#*it can be argued the degree of horror but I still did it anyway

[danganronpa96]

Yay happy hall of ween! Here an ensemble of the horror* media fellas! ...Hm? But, where's Hiroshi?

...He tried his best, at least.

[bradshawed]

OKAY OKAY YOU DONT HAVE TO LISTEN TO THIS AT ALL BUT YOU SHOULD WRITE LIKE A STEVE ONESHOT THING WHERE HES DATING (Y/N OR OC IM NOT PICKY) BUT HES STILL PINING FOR NANCY AND LIKE STILL IN LOVE WITH HER SO HIS S/O BREAKS UP WITH HIM BC SHES TIRED OF BEING LIKE "A BACKUP OPTION" AND ALWAYS SECOND CHOICE TO NANCY AND ITS LIKE SUPER ANGSTY AND BASICALLY IT TAKES BEING WITHOUT THEM FOR STEVE TO REALIZE HOW MUCH HE LOVED THEM AND THEN THERES LIKE A LOVE CONFESSION. (THAT WAS A CRAZY RUN-ON SENTENCE OMG)

YOU CAN IGNORE THIS IF YOU DONT LIKE THE IDEA THO <3

Second Best — Steve Harrington

summary — nancy wheeler, the one who got away. she’d always be his first love and you’d always be second best so what was the point of pretending he could love you even just a little?

warning/tags — fem!reader, she/her pronouns, angst, steve being dumb, swearing, bits of stancy, arguing, fluff, the gang scheming

note — thank you so much for requesting! I absolutely adore this idea and loved writing it so so much, I hope I did it justice even if I did slightly go off the prompt. you’re an incredible writer, one of my favourites on wp, and I can’t wait to read your works on here too. I love you tons! thank you again and I hope you like it <3 also, credits to soph for steve’s middle name, ilysm!

word count — 2.5k words

This was the third time in the space of a couple of minutes that you’ve caught Steve staring at Nancy from where he sat on the couch, to say you were sick of it would be an understatement.

It had been movie night with the whole group which had truthfully been long overdue and very much needed but surprisingly difficult to plan with everyone’s hectic schedules. But here you all were, finally relaxing for the first time in months in Steve’s spacious living room among a bundle of cushions, in what should’ve resembled a fort built by the boys. The second movie of the night was playing on the projector that Robin and Max had set up and an abundance of snacks and sugary drinks had been brought beforehand to account for everyone’s tastebuds. With the way things were going, however, it seemed like staying over at Steve’s after the night was over was simply out of the question.

Dustin sent you a sad look from his position on the floor smothered by multiple duvets. It would have been funny if it hadn’t been for the situation. The room seemed to cool another ten degrees when Steve unwrapped his arm from around your shoulders mid-scene, shifting away from you slightly. You were both oceans apart and yet he didn’t even seem to notice the space between you. And this wasn’t the first time it had happened either.

The credits rolled in and Nancy offered to grab more snacks while the kids decided on the next movie. Steve practically jumped at the chance to follow her to the kitchen, or maybe you were just overreacting like usual. It didn’t matter anyway, the fact was that he was with her, not you and the way he looked at her told you everything that had been left unsaid.

You quietly got up from your place on the couch, surrounded by colourful blankets and softly padded around the room, picking up your car keys from where you’d left them and moving to the hallway to put on your coat and shoes. El moved to stop you but Eddie gently placed a hand on her shoulder, letting you go with a sad nod. You couldn’t stay, they knew that, but still, some part of you wishes they would’ve asked. You might have not been there from the beginning but they loved you all the same, if not even more and vice versa. You were the missing piece in their family and for them, you’d do anything even if it meant watching Steve pin for his ex girlfriend.

You’d almost made it to your car before Steve appeared at the door, the expression on his face a mix of everything and seemingly nothing you were looking for all at once. “Where are you going, the movie’s about to start. Mike’s picked out some cheesy horror movie which I know you love to watch and Nance has opened up the last pack of those giggles cookies you love with the weird faces on them-” You hated horror movies, regardless of if they were cheesy and predictable or not, and those giggle cookies with fudge and vanilla cream in them- god you hate them too. You’d eat fudge by itself but for some reason when it’s added to something else it just doesn’t taste right to you.

“Steve.. I’m not feeling great, I’m gonna head home a little early.” You knew he didn’t believe you. You never could lie to him, and his judging eyes told you enough. Not to mention you called him Steve, you never call him Steve, but he didn’t notice.

“You seemed fine a while ago to me. What’s wrong, maybe you can lay down in the spare room?” There he goes treating you like you’re one of the kids and not his girlfriend but that’s not what irks you the most, it’s the fact that mentions the spare room. Not his room, the spare. “Nance can give you one of her green teas, they’re magical I swear, you’ll feel better in an instant. Actually, let me ask her now.” He walked away towards the door, completely disregarding anything you’d said, acting for a moment that he was even paying attention to you tonight bringing up Nancy again and suddenly, you’re done.

“No!” Steve pauses mid stride, hand on the half opened door, slowly turning around shocked by the volume and the panic in your voice, “I’m done Steve, I’m done. I can’t do this anymore.”

“Wh-what?!”

“You’re in love with Nancy.”

“I’m what-?!”

“Ha, see you can’t even deny it.”

“Because there’s nothing to deny!” His voice raises even further. He’s never raised his voice at you. He knows how much you hate it and it reminds him of his father so he never did; guess there was a first time for everything.

“Don’t. You don’t love me, you never have. You don’t even know my favourite movie genre or my favourite snack-”

“Yes I do, I just told you!”

“Those are Nancy’s fucking favourites! See you’re pinning after her with those love sick eyes of yours and you don’t even know it.”

“What so not knowing your favourite movie genre or snack is a crime now?! So I’m expected to know everything about my girlfriend?” This elicits a rather loud scoff from you causing Steve to clench his fists in frustration and anger. “We’ve been dating for almost a year so yes, I do expect you to at least know those two things.”

Steve starts again but you cut him off fearing that if you don’t get it out now then you’ll go back to apologising to him the next day and burying it even deeper within you. “It’s her, it’s always been her. I don’t know why I even bothered but I thought you were over her, I truly did. But every time she walks into a room your eyes brighten and they don’t leave her for a single fucking second. You bring her up into every single conversation as if her ghost wasn’t already haunting our relationship and I feel like I’m always being compared to her in everything that I do. Stevie I love you, I truly do but I’m sick of feeling like I’m second place.”

Silence. He doesn’t say anything for what feels like forever. You wished he’d say something, anything, do something to prove you wrong, to tell you it was all in your head or that he’d change, that things would get better. A flash of emotion appears on his face before he puts back on his ‘King Steve’ mask. He never used that with you.

“Okay.” That’s all he says before turning back towards the door and leaving you standing out there in the cold.

That was months ago and here you were with the gang calling you from a pay phone on a Sunday. It seemed like your plans of crying your eyes out to another sappy romance movie that reminded you of your relationship with Steve had been ruined. “Heyyy Y/Nnnn”, came a sheepish voice from the other end of the phone call.

You knew they could feel your eye roll from there, “What do you guys need?”

“What, can’t we call our favourite adult and tell her that we miss her?!”

“Ignoring the fact that this is the first time you’ve called me in months, no Dustin, you can’t call without wanting something first. And favourite?! Ha, nice one. What do you want?”

“Can you please pick us up from the skatepark?” At least he had the common sense to give the phone to Max when the gang wanted something, they all knew she was your soft spot. Then for the millionth time that day, like every other day, your mind went straight to Steve. Where was he? Shouldn’t he be picking up the kids? Why would he just leave them there? They could’ve called anyone else, so why you? And then as if she knew the thoughts running through your head she added, “we didn’t want to bother Eddie and Steve was meant to pick us at two but we got bored and felt bad for asking him to pick us up earlier when he was already in a bad mood this morning and-”

“It’s okay sweetheart, hang tight and I’ll be there in ten. Don’t go anywhere and stick together okay?”

“Yes mum.” And Dustin was back.

He hung up the phone and you went to get changed as quick as you could, sliding along the wooden floor in your socks. If Steve was here now, he’d be laughing his beautiful laugh, teasing you before acting out the scene from ‘Risky Business’, maybe even twirling you around the living room. Shaking your head to prevent more tears from falling, you grabbed your coat and car keys and made your way out the door.

There was a catch. Of course there had to be a catch. Why didn’t you think about this before?!You’d successfully picked up the kids and they’d all piled into your car with their gear when Dustin remembered he’d left something important at Steve’s and needed to pick it up. So here you were driving to your ex boyfriend’s house cursing wildly in your head. It would be fine. You were only going to stay in the car. You wouldn’t even have to see him… right?

Wrong. Fate, aka the kids, had different plans.

Pulling into the driveway, the first thing you noticed was the fairy lights stung around the house. It was still light out, Christmas and New Years were over, Valentine’s Day was even further away, so why were there fairy lights? Why were there sunflowers lining the driveway? Had you stumbled upon Steve’s love confession to Nancy. Oh god. You hoped not.

Here you were, standing on Steve’s porch, knocking on his door instead of Dustin and you hadn’t the slightest clue of how you got there except you figured you’d been roped into some wild scheme that wasn’t going to end well. Fuck me.

Steve Willow Harrington opened the door in all his beautiful glory holding a bouquet of sunflowers, a pack of care bear waffles and ‘The Breakfast Club’. Who the hell allowed him to look so good?!

“Hi.”

No, this was absolutely not happening. He would not turn your heart into mush with one syllable. You started to turn around to leave but his reflexes were faster and he grabbed your hand, the skin heating up under his touch and your heart kickstarted into motion at the electricity that danced along his fingers onto yours. “Please. Don’t go.”

You froze in place. Head and heart conflicted but once you saw the expression on the kids’ faces you understood. He gently pulled you towards him, albeit with a little caution, turning your body but still you refused to look at him. “These are for you.” You accepted them, focusing on the sunshine petals instead of his face until your felt his fingers gently gripping your chin, tilting your head upwards so you were looking into his eyes. Steve’s eyes shone with the telltale sign of tears and regret and something else that you’d only seen when he looked at her. It was love. No. It couldn’t be. You took a step back needing the distance to gather your thoughts. He didn’t get to do this to you, he didn’t get to hurt you all over again.

“I’m sorry. I-” you shook your head, your own tears glistening your eyes making them shine in the fairy lights. “I had a whole speech planned out funnily enough but I see you again for one second and you’ve got speechless. God I- I drove over to your house in the middle of the night to apologise after that day and I chickened out every single time until they all knocked some sense into me.” He nodded behind you towards where the kids were anxiously watching the scene unfolding before them.

“I thought I heard your car but every time I’d look out the window there was no one there so I stopped looking.”

Steve sighed sadly, “You deserve better- you deserved better. I shouldn’t have done what I did. I shouldn’t have taken you for granted. I shouldn’t have made you feel like you were second place, not to Nancy and not to anyone. I should have showed you I cared, that you mattered, that I did know you loved binge watching those sappy romance movies and pointing out bits that reminded you of us and that your favourite snack were those ridiculously overpriced care bear waffles with the rainbow specks of berries because you’d had them since you were a child and refused to give them up. But I didn’t do any of the things I should have. I fucked up and I don’t deserve you. And the worst thing is, I don’t even have a reason why I did them. I think some part of me was terrified of the uncertainty, of the unknown, of how it felt to have someone I was scared to lose. So I buried how I felt about you and turned to something familiar, to something that I could hold onto even if I didn’t actually care about them. It took losing you to realise just how wrong I was and how badly I’d treated you. And I know it doesn’t justify any of what I did to you but I want you to know that I’m sorry and if I could do it all over again, I would do it differently. I would fight for you instead of leaving you there and I would show you exactly how I feel about you.”

You were both crying now, “and how do you feel about me?” The air stilled in anticipation, your fingers twisting around the fabric of your sleeve in a nervous dance.

“I love you.”

That admission of love, and the fact that he said it so easily like it was a fact that everyone should know, knocked the air out of your lungs. You felt breathless after his speech.

“I won’t deny that you hurt me and maybe I do deserve better but I know you can give it to me just as I hope I can give it to you. It won’t be easy and it will take time and a lot of work to get to- to us but if you’re willing to put in the work…” Steve nodded his head enthusiastically, tears slipping down his cheeks for he’d feared the worst, “then I am too.” Then came his megawatt smile, eyes crinkling at the edges from pure happiness. He pulled you into a hug, wrapping his arms around your shoulders delicately so as to not damage the flowers, while yours wrapped around his waist. The kids were dancing by your car, pumping their fists into the air but neither of you payed any attention to them.

“And for the record, I love you too Stevie.”

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Steve Harrington x WednesdayAddams!reader [533 words]

“Can you just take the sweater?” Steve sounded mournful, nudging your cold arm with the soft material. “It’s like, thirty degrees, you’re freezing.”

You sniffed, folded your arms across your chest a little tighter and hoped your lips weren’t turning blue.

“I don’t feel the cold,” you said flatly.

Eddie snorted and quickly turned around, catching the way you glared at him.

Steve sighed, moving closer to you with his smart coat and his stupid scarf and all of his warmth. He smelled good, like cologne and the shampoo you’d left at his. He nudged his nose to your hairline, skimmed his lips there in a quiet display of affection.

The park was crowded, a hustle and bustle of townsfolk as the committee did their best to make sure the firework display would happen on time. Steve had coaxed you into going, promising a night of horror movies and that mint hot chocolate you liked from the cafe on the way home.

You had played pretend, shrugged like you didn’t know what he was talking about but Steve saw the way you scrunched your nose to hide your smile. And you needled your arm through his without much fanfare, letting him tug you down Main Street, staying close to his side.

But he’d been insistent about walking home first to get you a jacket, despite insisting that you were fine.

(You weren’t, you couldn’t feel your fingers.)

And now, he was trying to shove that yellow sweater into your hands, pulling it from his trunk before you met up with the rest of his friends in the middle of the park, everyone watching the dark sky expectantly.

“It doesn’t go with my outfit,” you frowned, pushing your head towards Steve’s lips, not wanting him to stop his kisses despite the way you protested against everything else.

You saw Max out of the corner of your eye, smirking at your need for the boy’s touch and she smirked. You scowled, glaring darkly but it made no difference. She was the only one of the kids who wasn’t somewhat terrified of you, despite Steve’s insistence that you were a sweetheart.

“You’re literally wearing all black, babe,” Steve commented mildly.

“Exactly.”

“You’re impossible,” Steve sighed but it was soft and fond and it made Eddie roll his eyes from beside you both.

“Thank you,” you replied politely, chin resting on his chest as you looked up at him, eyes wide.

You were a little shy about it, still unsure around so many people you didn’t really know, but you tucked your hands into the boy's jacket, palms curling around his sides.

“I see your game, you’re not slick, you know” Steve snorted, but he pulled you into him anyway, chest flush with yours, face tucked to his neck. “Warmer?”

“Warmth is for the weak,” you grumbled into his skin. But you placed a kiss there anyway, soft and undeniably sweet, just for Steve. “…and yes.”

You couldn’t see him, but you felt the boy’s smile, amused and pressed to your temple. He didn’t argue, he knew better by now. So just wrapped his arms around you a little tighter and ignored the way Eddie smirked.

“Good.”

[wilcze-kudly]

Siblings in turmoil; the Katara+Sokka /Bolin+Mako comparison

So after making this post about the interesting parralels between our two favourite pairs of siblings, I wanna play around more with the parallels and similarities between them. Mind you, this will not be a one to one comparison, since both pairs of characters are simply much too different from one another to perfectly fit into one archetype.

This post serves more to compare these characters, their respective dynamics. You know. For fun. Because overanalysing traumatised children is fun now.

I think the set of similarities that jumps out at us first is the one connecting to Katara, Mako and their respective losses.

I mean, it is very obvious. Kid witnesses horrific, violent death of parent(s), keeps a dead parent's belonging around their neck, acts as their other sibling's parent to some degree.

If we look to the other corner, Sokka and Bolin have some surface level similarities. They act more as comic relief, and seem less affected by their circumstances than their siblings. They also somehow are incredibly popular with the ladies (and guys). It's that ole autistic rizz.

Mako and Katara's losses are the, let's say, centrepieces of their characters. To some extent, the pain and horror they went through as children, guide them through life and influence how they see the world and how they make decisions. You know, as trauma does.

Both of these characters had to step up and fill a void left in their and their siblings' lives.

Katara is on multiple occasions described as "motherly", which does make sense. Katara's loss of her mother impacted her tremendously, and it most likely shook her family dynamic to the core. Therfore, Katara takes on certain maternal characteristics. She also fulfills the chores that a mother would in a traditional household.

It is important to note that Sokka also takes on a typically parental role with Katara. However, rather than filling a void left by a mother, he fills the void left by a father. Hakoda and the men of the village leaving was not only very traumatic for Sokka, but also a very heavy shift for the rest if the village. Sokka being the only man, even only teenage boy leads to him not only taking on this role in his family but also the 'leader, chief, provider' role that men traditionally took on in their environments. This is still emblematic in how protective Sokka is of his companions, often even shielding them with his body, putting himself in harms way.

In Bolin and Mako's dynamic, however, Mako takes on both parental roles. To some extent. Where Sokka and Katara still had a certain amount of adults who could take care of them, Bolin and Mako were completely alone. This leads to Mako's care of Bolin being more focused on literal survival than emotional wellbeing.

Korra: [Side shot; unsure.] So, why is Bolin running around with the Triple Threat Triad, anyway? Mako : [Uncomfortable; evasively.] Well, we ... we used to do some work for them back in the day. Korra: [Dismayed look on her face.] What? Wha- Are you some kind of criminal? Mako : [Defensive and angrily.] No! You don't know what you're talking about. I just ran numbers for them and stuff. We were orphans out on the street; I did what I had to do to survive and protect my little brother.

Now, Bolin is the outlier in this group. Rather than stepping up into a caretaker role, Bolin seems almost intentionally like a child. This may seem counterproductive to Mako and Bolin's survival, but I'd argue that Bolin acting in this hapless, childike role is very important to the brothers' codependent dynamic. While it would seem like the better option for the brother's to both be able to be independent, the leader/follower dichotomy they have may actually have felt safer and more direct for them. Also, by being more easygoing and cheerful, Bolin is able to support Mako emotionally.

I can even make an argument of Mako infantilising Bolin, and stifling Bolin's growth (not deliberately or consciously, of course) because of the comfort this type of relationship brings.

It's also important to note that Bolin's behaviour also had the added benefit of endearing the brother's to people. The whole reason they became pro benders is because Toza took a shine to Bolin and whem the brothers were kidnapped by the Red Lotus, Bolin immediately pivots to trying to befriend them. When you combine this with the fact that the brothers probably lived off of the kindness of strangers as children, his demeanour starts to look like a behaviour learnt in order to survive.

Katara and Sokka aren't nearly as codependent as Mako and Bolin. They do both parent one another to some extent, Sokka has unconsciously replaced images of his mother with Katara. While on the flipside, Sokka often tends to try and steer Katara's actions, not unlike an overbearing father would. Katara, unlike Bolin, however, doesn't take direction well and will often outright disagree with or even mock Sokka.

Sokka: [Camera closes in on Sokka and Katara next to each other.] I know you all wanna fly, but my instincts tell me we should play it safe this time and walk Katara: [Leans forward at her brother and smiles.] Who made you the boss? Sokka: [Points his finger at his chest; to Katara.] I'm not the boss, I'm the leader. Katara: [Amused.] You're the leader? But your voice still cracks!

Both Mako and Katara have strong caretaker instincts. This is mainly how they express affection. You can see this not only in their relationships with their siblings. Another their romantic relationships with Korra and Aang respectively. The difference here being that Aang is quite receptive and willing to reciprocate Katara's caretaker type love, whereas Korra has different needs in her relationship. It's honestly quite fun that Korra's first love interest has a very similar love language to Aang's wife, and Korra and Mako braking up is a very good way to differentiate these two Avatars even further.

So that's it, Mako and Katara have a lot of similarities and Sokka and Bolin have some as well. That's it case closed. Except not so because we I'm here to disagree with myself.

Where Katara and Mako differ, is how well in tune they are with emotions, both their own and those of others. Katara is very, very open about her anger. She's very quick to escalate conflict and she feels emotions very strongly. A stark comparison to this is Mako's very avoidant approach to conflict.

This, once again makes sense with their environments. Aside from the loss of family, Katara has had a huge amount of her culture stripped away from her, a wound made even more painful by Katara being the only waterbender in her tribe. She's also just a naturaly passionate and determined person, I think. While, for Mako, anger and conflict usually could mean that either he or Bolin are going to get hurt, especially at the time when they were running with the triads.

Now, the main thing setting Bolin and Sokka apart, is also the thing that ties Sokka and Mako together.

Mako is... cynical, very jaded by the world. His pessimism and distrust of others shows how broken down he was by his difficult childhood, growing up around dangerous people.

Sokka is similarly jaded, as we see at even the beginning of the show, with his stark oppositon to fun and potty breaks.

Where Mako and Sokka come together, is that they were both tasked with protecting their family members, with Sokka also having to step into that role for the whole village. For them their rolee of protectors force them to always consider the worst possible outcome and any potential danger.

Sokka: I'm coming with you.

Hakoda: You're not old enough to go to war, Sokka, you know that.

Sokka: [Desperately.] I'm strong, I'm brave, I can fight! Please, Dad!

Hakoda: [Lays a hand on his son's shoulder; grimly and sadly.] Being a man is knowing where you're needed the most. And for you right now, that's here, protecting your sister.

Contrasting Mako and Sokka's pessimism is Bolin and Katara's powerful optimism. Hope is what drives these two forward, as well as their huge compassion for others, both human and animal.

Mako: What are you doing? Are you trying to get us in trouble with Shady Shin? Bolin: No! I just ... Maybe I'm not as mean as you! Maybe I just can't turn my back on people when they're down!

This often causes arguments between the respective pairs of siblings. Mako and Sokka wanting to protect their siblings from danger, while Bolin and Katara's need to help others draws them into risky situations.

Katara : Well, what was I supposed to do? Sokka: Leave! Do nothing! Katara: [Angrily.] No, I will never, ever turn my back on people who need me!

The difference between Katara and Bolin, of course is that Katara is able to stand her ground for her strong morals, while Bolin, due to his upbringing, is much more "go with the flow".

But it is still a very interesting and compelling comparison, the younger sibling, full of hope and kindness, and the older sibling who shields them from danger.

I really enjoy these two pairs of siblings, and they easily make for some of my favourite dynamics in the show. I like that while they have certain overt similarities, there's much more to this comparison than meets the eye on surface level.

I think Sokka and Katara's relationship is incredibly wholesome, yet rather deep, watching them both mature side by side is very satisfying, if not a little sad. Bolin and Mako's relationship can be frustrating, but also fascinating. You can tell that they mean everything to one another, despite how dysfunctional their relationship can be.

Avatar has a knack for writing wonderfully complex siblings and the main two pairs of siblings are no exception. This is one of my favourite aspects of the show.

Anyway, that's been me telling you that these two pairs of siblings have both similarities and differences. Glad you sat through the stupid rant. Tune in next time for when my dumbass tells you that the sky is blue and the grass is green.

Bye bye

[imagineimpact]

Could i request Diluc angst oneshot where reader and him get into a big disagreement or argument where Diluc makes them cry and feel really bad about themself so they go and end up hanging out with Kaeya a bit much cause he offered to cheer reader up and Diluc won't apologize. until he see's his s/o hanging out with Kaeya

I actually wrote 2 different versions of the ending for this, but this is the one I decided to go with! If you want the more angsty version do let me know.

Anyway,

Harsh Words

Diluc x Reader

Screaming. Yelling that could be heard throughout the Dawn Winery residence late into the night, heard only by the maids, the night security, and perhaps a late worker or two.

And of course, by the two individuals who held the voices.

It was rather unusual for the two of you to be at odds; and, on the occasion in which you were, it wasn’t nearly to this degree.

But the two of you were outright screaming at each other. It wasn’t even about one thing anymore - it was everything. Whatever you had been arguing about had reached the point of irrelevance; It never should have reached this point and you knew that, but you were under fire and you couldn’t stop.

All you knew was that this was Diluc’s fault, and that you couldn’t take this kind of argument.

“If you just thought about your actions for once-”

You cut him off, “Oh don’t try me with that, you’re the one treating me like I’m an idiot and trying to control my-”

“If you had just listened for once and been less of a selfish bitch then I wouldn’t have to!”

His words had cut far deeper than either of you had expected, and you physically recoiled at the words, a sudden wave washing over you which forced tears from your eyes. The truth in his words was irrelevant - It felt true, even if it wasn’t.

You turn away from him. In spite of your state, he makes no move toward you. None, not even to give you the slightest feel of any comfort. You knew - he wanted the words to cut through you.

You go to the door and slip on your shoes, leaving the room as fast as you humanly could.

You can’t take this anymore.

But you don’t make it past the front door. As if by telepathy, Diluc has two of his night security waiting by the door in a stance showing you that they’re ready to make sure you don’t leave. They block your path, silent in their menace. When you turn around, only then do you notice Adelinde and Hille quietly staring at you. Diluc’s footsteps down the stairs are a slow horror, an even pace which served to only emphasize that feeling of dread; Very easily, this felt like the perfect time to be murdered.

The drawl of footsteps approach, yet cease a few meters away - he’s far too distant to do anything himself. His eyes lock on yours, quietly assessing you.

“Diluc, let me leave.” You hiss through streaming tears. You nearly choke on the tension in the air.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment. His eyes don’t show any expression, show any remorse or guilt, or even happiness. Truly, there is nothing in his eyes.

“Let me make myself clear: You are not leaving this premises in the middle of the night. Do you understand me?”

“Not even slightly.”

Silence. His eyes flicker, the way they do when he sees an abyss mage, or when Kaeya makes a comment that goes a little too far - pure anger.

“Adelinde, fix up the guest room.”

“No need. I’ll be leaving now.” You scoff.

Diluc tilts his head, peering over you and towards his security as if to say ‘don’t you fucking dare let them through’.

Then another look, and you feel yourself being pushed into the house again, the slam of the doors behind you.

A wave of anger washes over you, and you can’t help the excess of tears that fall, harder now than they had been before.

Diluc holds his ground, staring at you silently. You shake your head and look away, not sure what to do with yourself. Their staring puts you in pure disarray.

“Adelinde.”

“Yes, sorry.” She mutters, bowing and taking her leave in the direction of the guest bedroom in order to prepare it for you.

When she’s gone, you shake your head. “I’m not going to be sleeping.”

“Then stay in your room. I don’t care.” He huffs, turning away and wandering back up the stairs, his footsteps seeming less menacing now.

The argument was done.

Your eyes catch a light outside the window, seeming to exist a far distance away. Maybe it was the fire of a hilichurl camp.

What time was it? Surely the sun would be up soon anyway.

Fine. You would leave then, no matter what.

When you got to your room, you actually did manage to sleep. Not nearly enough; An hour was nothing in the long run, but it was still just slightly enough to not feel entirely exhausted.

Still, the sun was up when you arose, and you lay in the bed, uncertain as to what would happen when you left the room.

If Diluc wasn’t going to apologise, you wanted nothing to do with him.

So, after a little while of resting, it was a surprise to hear a knock at the door. You were summoned to breakfast. Nearly the entire time, you and Diluc sat across from each other - an oddity indeed considering he would always insist that he wanted you seated beside him - this time, however, you were as far from his as possible within the confines of the seated table. The usually empty seat felt hard beneath you, not softened by an everyday presence. Your usual seat to his right - where your plate had been placed before you had taken it to where you were now - was empty.

Neither of you could look into each other’s eyes. The silence, broken only by the light clinks of cutlery, felt burdenous.

You expected him to say something, anything really. You could barely eat the food on your breakfast plate, and without any words, you didn’t feel all too comfortable anyway. You let out a quiet sigh and stood up, tucking in your chair and lifting your plate to take it back to the kitchen.

“Where are you going?” Diluc’s voice was quiet but the harshness in it was unmistakable.

“I’m not hungry.” You looked down at the plate in your hands. “I’m going to Mondstadt.”

Diluc stood up suddenly, pushing back his chair and stepping close to you. The sudden movement caused you to shutter slightly, and he pulled back a bit. Still, he tore the plate from your hands and placed it on the table. “When you return, be ready to have a serious conversation.”

Oh.

You opened your mouth to speak, but then huffed and turned away. “Right. I’ll look forward to getting yelled at again.”

Diluc scoffed, “Stop acting like a petulant child.”

“I’m not doing this right now, Diluc.” Your feet are moving before you can even think about it. This time, as you approached the door, no one was there to stop you. You left with no present company to watch over you, and you knew that today was going to be a long, long day.

——

Mondstadt thrives with life, as per usual. Because of how bright and pleasant the place is, any spec of gloom is extremely obvious on a day like this.

You took to the adventurers guild to take some commissions. Maybe killing some hilichurls or slimes would take your mind off of it all, or maybe just delivering some needed materials to someone.

The entire time you had been speaking to Katheryn, you felt eyes watching you, but you didn’t want to make it obvious you knew. Alas, it was only moments later that you startled at the feeling of a hand on your shoulder.

“No need to be so surprised.” The familiar voice chuckles beside you.

“Good morning, Kaeya.” You let out a soft sigh, the exhaustion of the day before wearing into you. You thanked Katheryn and turned your attention to Kaeya. His eyebrows twitched and his expression shifted as he studied you.

“What happened?” He asks rather blatantly, eyes clouding over. “Was it Diluc?”

You took a deep breath. “Wanna join me for commissions?”

Kaeya scans your eyes. “As long as you tell me what’s wrong.”

“Come on.” You nod, wandering out of Mondstadt with him.

The slowly falling night brought you back to Mondstadt. You agreed to go to the tavern with Kaeya, a subtle kind of thank you for spending time with you today. It wasn’t like you were doing anything else anyway.

The tavern was already busy before you got there, people crowding around for a nights drink. You subconsciously step towards Kaeya as if shading yourself away from the crowded atmosphere and he is wary of your proximity. He draws you to his side, a friendly notion, and steps inside before you.

Charles waves at you both from behind the counter. Kaeya quickly orders a round of drinks and takes you to a table away from the bar.

“Hey, look who’s been dragged in.” Rosaria wanders over, quietly making soft chatter with you. It wasn’t unusual for the two of you to spend some time together.

Kaeya eventually wanders away, grabbing your drinks and bringing them back over.

Time seemed to dwindle away, the mindless chatter with your friends giving you more than ample distraction from anything else that might have been happening.

“Master Diluc! Didn’t expect to see you here today.” Charles’ voice rings out.

Of course, that wasn’t going to last long.

You lift your head slightly, tensing up. Diluc is scanning the room, twisting his wrist lightly as he speaks quietly to Charles; The words miss you. You freeze as your eyes lock. For just a moment you’re caught in that discerning gaze before he nods at you and turns back to talk to Charles. Kaeya draws your attention back away, and you slip back into your conversation, not wanting to deal with anything else.

“I’ll get another round.” Rosaria gets up and makes her way through the tavern, leaning over the bar and making another order for the table.

“How many are we on?” You ask, already flushed from the… how many glasses had you even had?

“Five.” Kaeya laughs, leaning on your shoulder. “But now that the killjoy’s here, he’ll stop us from having our well-earned fun.”

“I heard that.” Diluc scoffed, passing by you.

“Good.” Kaeya wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you closer to him, more out of a delicate affection than anything else. Diluc’s eyes narrow at his brother, who just laughs in response.

“Get your hands off of-“

“Oh don’t worry, brother. I would never keep them somewhere they don’t want to be.” Kaeya mocks. “You, on the other hand, can’t say the same.” Even with his words, he loosens his hold on you and leans back a bit.

Rosaria returns with your round, greeting Diluc casually as she slips back into her seat. Your pissed off boyfriend wanders away back to his work.

It clicks in your hazy mind that the only reason he’s here is likely because you are. You laugh at the thought, then clink your tankard to the group and drink.

—

As the evening wears down, many people in the bar until it’s pretty much only your group and a few others left there. Diluc lets out a soft sigh as he watches you, trying to soften that jealous pounding of his heart. He takes a sip of his own drink - apple cider, of course. He could never slam back drinks the way that your group currently were. Where had the hours gone?

Oh, no. How many drinks had you had? Whatever was next, he swore to himself that he would make sure that it was watered down. At this rate, you were pretty much welcoming alcohol poisoning with open arms.

Kaeya, wobbly as ever, decides to be the one to approach the bar this time (mostly because Rosaria was leaning against the table, head folded into her arms as she groaned). Diluc shook his head. “No, no. The three of you will drink this whole tavern dry if I don’t stop you.”

“Oh, I’m not here to get any more.” He leans on the countertop. “I just want to know what the hell you did.” Kaeya motions over to you. You’re just giggling at Rosaria’s complaining, leaning over and patting her on the head.

“I’m not talking to you about this.” Diluc leans back, crossing his arms stubbornly.

“Suit yourself.” He straights up. “I should probably get her out of here before you say something stupid.”

“I’m not going to be saying anything stupid.” Diluc shakes his head, looking over the list of all the drinks you’ve had this evening. “You’re all wasted.”

“And yet, you haven’t said last call.”

Seemingly to spite him, DIluc immediately does. He signals over to Charles to round up the remaining people. He knew to leave you last.

Kaeya’s laugh is enough to haunt him. “You make this right, Diluc.” He runs his finger over the counter. “Otherwise I will.”

“Get out of my sight.”

The cavalry captain laughs again, then wanders over to your table. He practically drags Rosaria back up, but she pushes away from him and made her own way to the counter - always a good spirit, she paid for her own portion of drinks and left. Being a nun, she probably didn’t need to use the money elsewhere.

Kaeya was two steps away from just carrying you out the door, but through his drunk mind he finds the clarity to understand just how absolutely inappropriate that would be to do, especially in front of Diluc. Alas, you lean on his shoulder as he assists your steps.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Diluc’s voice calls out, as if to stop you both.

“Usual billing.” Kaeya calls back.

“No, no.” You both look back at him. He shifts on his feet, eyes locking with yours. “I’ll be damned if you go home with him.”

“Then damned you are.” You roll your eyes, turning away.

He calls your name softly. “Step away from him. Come here.”

You take a deep breath. “I am so glad I don’t have to remember any of this.”

Diluc places a glass of water in front of you. “Drink this. You wreak of alcohol.”

“And you wreak of your hatred.” You sit down in front of him, knowing that it wasn’t about to get better.

Diluc’s eyes flicker up to Kaeya. “Get out.”

“Not happening.”

“Kaeya, this doesn’t concern you.”

“Their safety is more than enough concern.”

“It’s alright, Kaeya, just wait outside.” You pipe in, not wanting even more stress.

Kaeya agrees, quietly slipping out the door. Charles is told to escort him away, an act which may have varying success.

Either way, you sat in front of Diluc, not sure what exactly to say to him.

“I’m tired, Diluc. I’m tired of this. I can’t put up with-“

“I’m sorry.” He blurts out, interrupting you. “Please, hear me out.”

“I’m not going to remember-“

“Then I’ll tell you again when you will.” He leans over the counter, not wanting to be apart from you. He calls your name again, as if to hold your attention, “Can we talk about this?”

“I think we talked about this already.” You groan. “Yesterday, plenty of yelling. The Maids and guards can confirm.”

Diluc takes a long breath out. You lift the glass of water and take an even longer sip.

Maybe the barrier of the counter between you made you feel better. But, as tears sprung to your eyes, you felt so, so much worse.

“Do you hate me?” You ask, your voice squeaking. “Do you want to break up with me.”

“No, Y/N.” He reaches for your hands, but you had pushed your stool too far away from him beforehand that he couldn’t. He circles around the bar and gently grabs both of your hands, soft enough in his hold for you to be able to pull away. “Don’t ever say that. I love you.”

“Then, why?” You sob, turning your face away from him, hands still in his. “Why did you yell at me? Why wouldn’t you talk to me this morning?”

“I…“ Diluc stops himself, taking a deep breath. “I was angry. We were both angry.” He shifts, pulling out a stool and sitting in front of you. “I wasn’t acting rationally.”

“When you said you wanted to talk this morning, what were you going to say?”

Diluc hesitates, gripping your hands just a little bit harder. “I was going to ask… I was going to ask if you were happy.” He admitted, quietly. “But I can’t do that. I can’t put you through that.”

You tug him toward you, pulling his hands close to your face. “Why would you say that? I love you.” You sob into his soft skin.

He takes his hands away from your gently, slipping them around your waist and pulling you close to him, into his lap. He tightens his grip. “I’m sorry.” He repeats. “I’m so sorry. I never want you to cry.” He feels his heartbeat heavily in his chest, a distraught washing over him. “Don’t ever destroy yourself like this again.” He runs a hand over your back.

You don’t say anything. You’re way too drunk for many more coherent thoughts to pass your lips. You lift your head and plant a soft kiss on his cheek, and he softly kisses your forehead, pulling you back to his chest so that you don’t try to kiss him anymore - He wasn’t about to let that happen, you were far too drunk.

Diluc was ashamed of his thoughts. His guilt, rising only when he saw you in the present company of his brother, showing affection and finding comfort anywhere except for him. He didn’t want to admit it to himself, nor to you, but as you cried into his shoulder, he couldn’t help the wave of disappointment in himself that washed over. Why could he never be there for the people who needed him most?

“Come on, finish your water, let’s get you home.” He insists, though he holds you tightly still until you stir.

You take the water, sipping it with a slight indignance. He would have to apologize to you again in the morning, but he would do anything to get you to trust him again.

(Part 2 here)

[wallflowerimagines]

*TW PERIOD MENTION*

If you're comfortable with this, could you do some hcs for the lords (but mainly moreau) with an s/o who gets HORRIBLE period cramps? Like they're literally writhing in pain and even after they take pain meds it's still miserable. Only do this if you feel comfortable of course, I totally understand if you dont want to do it❤

Hi, sorry folks, I bumped this to the top of the list, cuz I don't know if it's time sensitive for you, hope it brings comfort❤️ (Moreau's will have some extra)

TW: Period Mention, Reader is still Gender Neutral

Alcina Dimitrescu

Ah, she remembers those. She hasn't had to deal with one in a long while, due to her mutation, but even for her the experience was not pleasant.

This, however, looks very different.

Alcina cannot imagine the pain you must be in. You are curled into yourself on the couch, humming in an attempt to distract yourself from the pain, and you might try to hide them but she can see the tear tracks on your face.

Alcina takes care of you. Any of her day to day tasks can and will wait-- you are far more important. She doesn't leave the room unless you ask her to, and the Maids aren't let into the room unless it is to bring HER the things she needs to take care of you.

She will do whatever you need from her, no question. Cuddles, heated blankets, she will even read aloud to you as a distraction. Pro tip--her hands can get pretty chilly, and if you're someone who does well with ice packs, her hands work 100% better to cool off your skin.

Don't worry about her loosing control at the smell of blood--you are obviously in pain and she has far too much self control to let a little bit of blood bother her. (But depending on how hungry her daughters are, they might not be let in the room unless they have fed recently)

She will also use her contact with the Duke to find you a proper doctor. It's not normal for you to be in this much pain. Dearest, it doesn't matter if someone else has said there's nothing more to be done-- she's getting you a competent Doctor to get a second opinion.

Donna Beneviento

Donna is panicking.

Lady Beneviento is stressed the hell out by seeing you in pain--she hates it. You're lying in a pile of blankets on the floor, unable to be even the slightest bit comfortable because of the pain, and in such obvious agony that your hands are shaking.

Still, she's more than ready to make you feel better. Other than pain pills and more traditional treatment, Donna firmly believes in the power of distraction.

She will use books, movies, heck with your permission she might even use the pollen to craft a hallucination for you to help take the pain away.

(Ethan's encounter with the demon fetus was able to cause him enough harm that he felt it, Donna would definitely try to see if she could use her powers to trick your brain into not feeling as much pain)

She will also be attached to you at the hip, if you need space or can't be touched during your period, you need to tell her up front. She'll be very clingy when you are this miserable.

A little self indulgence here: while Donna does like her tea, she makes a KILLER hot chocolate. If chocolate brings you joy during your period, she has a constant, steady supply of it sent up to your room.

Salvatore Moreau

Salvatore engages Doctor mode immediately. For you to be in this much pain is both not normal and completely unacceptable. He's going to do his best to help.

This man absolutely used to be the Village doctor before his mutation, and as a result does Know His Shit. His siblings and mother may infantilize him to a certain degree, but that is mainly because Moreau's main issues are short term memory problems and his obsessive devotion to Mother Miranda that can make him regress. He's still competent as a doctor, and if he needs to reference anything, he still has some copies of medical textbooks.

He was also a Small Town Doctor, meaning he knows how to treat pain without access to traditional medicine, since often times he didn't have access to it.

It doesn't matter if you're not a tea person, you're still getting tea, made with herbs you don't know the name of and couldn't pronounce even if you did.

He doubles this up with more traditional pain relief methods like extra strength ibuprofen and heated compresses on the area. He might even talk you into doing a few exercises--it can help a lot with pain relief.

Still, when he's caring for you, sometimes he has to leave the room. He uses getting you a glass of water or another blanket as an excuse, but it's really so he can take a deep breath and center himself. Moreau is an empathetic man who loves you to pieces, and watching you cry silently into a pillow just...hurts.

Salvatore also does his best to distract you with anything he has on hand, mostly movies. While you two might normally playfully argue about which ones to watch, he will absolutely defer to you. I would recommend taking this time to watch a scary movie if you're a horror fan, there's literally no other time where Moreau would let you get away with it.

He is at your side constantly, and will only give you space if you ask for it. Even then, he will pop back in every few hours to check in.

Now for Fluff stuff: If you're not careful and watch him like he watches you, Moreau will run himself ragged trying to keep you comfortable.

The best solution to preventing this is coaxing him into bed with you. He might let out a couple of token protests, but one look at your pleading face takes all the fight right out of him.

He will cuddle up to you as close as possible and rub little circles into your back or stomach, whatever feels best. If you two are face to face, you can start to feel yourself relax in time with his breathing, and both of you slowly drift off to sleep together.

It's the best you've felt in days ❤️

Karl Heisenberg

Magnet Man is just... So lost...

You are writhing in agony in your bed, sobbing into a pillow, and so obviously suffering. He HATES to see you like this, because you're hurting and he doesn't know how to fix it.

Karl wants to hurt the things that hurt you, but when it's your own body rebelling against you and causing you pain...He wants to make it better for you but he can't.

He swallowed his pride IMMEDIATELY and called Moreau to the factory. Heisenberg might consider The Lord of the Reservoir to be a little slow in the head, but he used to be a doctor, and Karl is taking zero chances with your health.

He also pops by the Duke to pick up any kind of pain relief possible--Karl literally brings back 8 different brands of acetaminophen, hot water bottles, cocaine, opium, and enough alcohol to give an elephant a blackout. (Maybe he can get you to pass out long enough that you'll sleep through the worst of it?)

You will have to ask directly for cuddles if you want them--as handsy and clingy as Heisenberg is, he is so Bad At Feelings that he will just hover in the corner and work on projects to keep his hands busy. He doesn't know if you want to be touched, and is afraid to ask...but he really wants to keep an eye on you anyway.

[contemplativepancakes]

sunsets for somebody else

Daphne runs into her long lost husband arguing with another man in the grocery store. Things start to take a turn when she realizes they're married.

The bottle of bleach drops from Daphne’s hand into her cart, landing with a sloshing thud as she takes in the scene in front of her, frozen in her tracks. Emmanuel is standing right in front of her, arguing with another man about cleaning supplies.

Wearing a beige trench coat for some inexplicable reason—it’s almost 90 degrees outside—Emmanuel listens to a man who’s explaining in minute detail how to clean an oven. They’re both wearing wedding rings, and Daphne’s heart swells for a moment before she realizes it’s a different ring from the one she gave Emmanuel all those years ago.

“Dean, I don’t think this is safe for Jack. This is going to create noxious fumes,” Emmanuel says, squinting at the ingredients of the cleaner apparently-Dean had thrust at him.

Dean pinches the bridge of his nose, and Daphne squeezes the handle of her shopping cart harder, feeling faint. It’s not every day you come across your long lost husband at the Stop N’ Shop.

“I think the kid can take some fumes,” Dean says, plucking the bottle out of Emmanuel’s hands and putting it in the cart. “We wouldn’t even have to worry about this if someone didn’t let the pizza fall onto the bottom of the oven.”

“The directions said to put it directly on the middle rack!” Emmanuel protests, and Dean rubs a hand down Emmanuel’s back in a familiar way that makes Daphne’s stomach roil.

She’s not jealous, she’s not. She was just helping Emmanuel when she found him, after all. Their marriage was simply one of…convenience for Emmanuel. It’s not like he had a birth certificate with him, or a social security number. What did Daphne get out of all this? Well. Daphne looks at his cheek bones wistfully, her gaze dipping down to his strong forearms his trench coat is rolled up to reveal.

Dean rolls his eyes fondly, and then he tugs Emmanuel into his side, kissing him on the temple. Daphne jerks her stare away for a moment before returning it, noticing now that their wedding rings match.

“Emmanuel?” she chokes out, against her better judgment.

For a long second, she doesn’t think Emmanuel heard her, but he turns around. “Daphne?”

Daphne nods, her words forsaking her. She doesn’t miss the way Dean clutches possessively at Emmanuel’s hip.

“I…thought you were dead,” she finally says. “I filed a missing person report.”

Dean squints at her, before something like recognition passes over her face, and now that she thinks about it, Daphne recognizes him, too. He’s the one who showed up right before everything went to shit. Horror stories of Stockholm syndrome flash through her mind.

“Emmanuel, are you…happy?” she settles on.

Emmanuel gives her a smile, leaning harder into Dean. “I am.”

“Good. That’s. Good,” she says, a strangled look on her face, she’s sure. “Would you want to catch up some time?” she asks before she fully registers what’s coming out of her mouth.

Emmanuel gives her a warm smile. “I’d love that.”

As they set up a time to get coffee, Daphne tries to ignore the glare Dean levels at her throughout the whole conversation. He insists that their meeting be tomorrow, since apparently they won’t be in the area for long. Daphne tries to ignore the warning bells in her mind that tell her she’s about to get murdered and takes solace in the fact that at least they’re meeting in a public place.

Besides, even if Emmanuel’s husband is a serial killer, surely Emmanuel won’t let him murder her, right?

-

The next day, Daphne hems and haws as she debates what to wear. Whatever this is, it’s the exact opposite of a date, anyway. She knocks on the door of her foster child, Alex, to wake them up before she goes into the bathroom to do her hair and makeup. Really, she’s just doing it for herself. She’s allowed to want to look nice!

When she finally deems herself as ready as she’s going to get, she goes back to Alex’s room to make sure they’re actually up. To her pleasant surprise, they’re sitting on the edge of their bed putting on their socks and almost ready. “Excited for school today?” she asks.

Alex makes a face at her. “Never,” they say, but their voice at least has the edge of a smile to it.

They’ve come a long way since they were first placed with her, and even though Daphne knows she shouldn’t be getting overly attached, she can’t help it. She walks down the steps and into the kitchen, deliberating for a moment on breakfast before putting frozen waffles into the toaster. If she’s about to get murdered while Alex is at school, she can at least make sure the last thing she made for them wasn’t cereal.

Alex tromps down the steps, dragging their bookbag behind them, and Daphne hides her smile behind her glass of orange juice. Alex lights up at the sight of the waffles, disturbingly easy to please, as always. They inhale them, as teenagers do, before putting their dishes in the sink. Daphne cracks open her laptop as they wait for the bus, attempting to get some of her work done for the day since she’ll be taking a break later for the coffee. She really hopes her boss doesn’t try and call her while she’s out.

Or, maybe she does. She’s not sure she’s prepared for the level of awkwardness that she’s about to go through, but maybe it won’t be as bad as she thinks. She really wants to know what Emmanuel has been up to for all of this time. She’s still…embarrassingly hung up on him, and it would be nice to get some closure.

The bus pulling up in front of the house jerks her out of her thoughts, and she gives Alex a wave before they race off to get on. She watches them settle into a seat with one of their friends, and smiles at the fact that they even have friends now.

In the end, Daphne doesn’t manage to get much work done before she clambers into her car and drives to the coffee shop they agreed on. She doesn’t really think she needs caffeine with the way her leg is bouncing already.

Emmanuel and Dean are already there when she walks in, Emmanuel with a cup of black coffee he’s dumping sugar packets into and Dean with something with whipped cream and chocolate syrup drizzled on top. She gives them a tentative wave before ordering hot chocolate for herself, settling herself delicately in the seat across from them.

“So,” Dean says. “You were Cas’s wife?”

She squints. “Cas?”

Emmanuel speaks up. “After I regained my memories, I remembered that was my name.”

“Oh.” Smiling weakly, she tries to reconcile that. “You have them all back now?”

Emman—Cas nods.

“Just forgot about me, though?” she tries to ask lightly, but it comes out a little garbled.

“You took advantage of him!” Dean explodes from the other side of the table, making Daphne flinch. “Who the fuck finds someone naked with no memories and marries them?”

“Dean,” Cas chastises, his arm shifting like he’s putting his hand on Dean’s thigh under the table.

“I was helping him,” Daphne says hotly. “Would you have just wanted me to leave him there?”

Cutting Dean off before he can say anything else, Cas looks at Daphne and smiles in a way that makes her heart flutter. “I’m very grateful. I don’t know what I would have done without you. I’m sorry I didn’t reach out to let you know I was alright.”

Dean crosses his arms over his chest and leans back in his chair, taking a sip of his sugar monstrosity. He comes away with a whipped cream mustache, and it’s hard not to laugh as he wipes it away in total seriousness.

“So,” Daphne says. “You two have a kid? Jack?”

Scowling, which seems to be Dean’s automatic reflex, he exchanges a glance with Cas before softening. “Yeah, we have a kid. He’s four.”

Daphne thinks maybe Dean should have been a little bit more concerned about the fumes of cleaning chemicals if they have a four year old, but she keeps her judgments to herself. Cas beams. “He’s very bright.”

Returning the smile tentatively, Daphne asks, “How long have you two been married?”

“It’s almost our one year anniversary,” Dean says gruffly.

Daphne tries not to let it affect her, even if that’s more time than she ever got with Cas. “Practically newly weds, then!”

“It’s been an adventure; that’s certain,” Cas says, smiling serenely even as Dean elbows his ribs. “Tell us about you, Daphne. What have you been doing?”

Daphne shrugs a shoulder. “Oh, not too much.” Mourning the man I pulled out of the woods and saved and married, she doesn’t say. She knows Emmanuel never felt the same way about her that she did him. “I got approved to be a foster parent, so I’ve had a few kids come through.”

“Helping people has always been your calling,” Cas says softly.

Daphne takes a few minutes to gush about Alex, and her previous kids before them, before she notices Dean’s not actively glaring at her anymore.

“That’s…nice,” he begrudges when she finishes.

“What do you do, Dean?”

Looking like he just dropped something on his foot, he stammers before he hastily says, “I work construction.”

Daphne squints at him. She has the feeling he’s lying to her, but she has no idea why he would be.

“And what about you, Cas?”

“Oh, I mostly just take care of Jack.”

“You’re a stay at home dad?” she asks, the thought making her stomach twist into knots and heat rise to her face.

“Of a sorts,” Cas agrees.

God, they’re making it impossible to carry on a conversation with them. Daphne keeps a smile pasted to her face. “What do you two do for fun?”

“I’m convinced Dean thinks fun is superfluous,” Cas confides, even as Dean splutters at him. “But I like to drag him to thrift stores with me. Dean likes to bake, also.”

“I work on cars, too,” Dean says, and Daphne can feel his desperation to maintain his facade.

She tries not to quirk a smile at his discomfort. They chat for a while longer, Dean getting increasingly dodgy about the questions she asks before she finally excuses herself to go to the bathroom. She shuts the door behind her and looks down at the dank floor. Is she getting what she wanted out of this? She has no idea what she even imagined happening when she asked to catch up. Emmanuel running away with her? Maybe in her wildest fantasies. Taking a deep breath to ground herself, she looks in the mirror and checks her makeup, rubbing at her under eye circles before walking back out of the bathroom.

Cas is at the counter ordering another drink, for Dean, by the sound of the sugar content, and she walks over to him. Hesitating before she bites the bullet, she asks, “You’re not…like, being held against your will, right? That Dean seems,” she pauses, “interesting.”

Cas laughs warmly, putting a hand over Daphne’s. “No, nothing like that. This is a choice of my own free will, believe it or not. Dean is much more caring than he lets on.”

Well, Daphne’s not sure she believes it, but. At least he’s happy, and in the end, that’s all she’s ever wanted for him.

[kumaradosha]

I’m seeing a whole lot of bad takes and ignorance of past/present content and lack of critical thinking or ability to understand character motives regarding this most recent Dream SMP lore. So please, allow me to lay down some facts, some sense, and also some speculation of my own. This’ll be really rambly, because I’m tired, and I want to say a lot. Rewatching ALL the streaming perspectives now, my thoughts start here:

Considering Sam doesn’t want to enter the cell to dirty his hands himself, he clearly has some aversion or moral qualms about torturing prisoners, but Quackity has convinced him to go along with it. Quackity spends a lot of time before he goes into the cell repeatedly making sure Sam won’t have a change of heart and intervene, which indicates Sam probably has some misgivings. Quackity feels he has to remind Sam that this is for the greater good and to stand back and let him do his thing and that this will probably be the last time. These are all reassurances and instructions that would not be necessary if Sam were known to be totally cool with it all already.

Sam believes the stringent measures Dream put in place for the prison are just desserts for him to suffer, but Techno doesn’t deserve the same cruelty, because Techno didn’t enact those rules. And that’s why Techno gets baked potatoes from Sam, and Dream doesn’t. Sam clearly believes this harsh treatment is justified, because Dream was going to do it to someone else. He thinks he’s being just. Of course, allowing the torture, though not his idea and not really comfortable to him, was still crossing a line, considering physical torture was not something Dream did to his victims (and besides, there’s the argument that not everything a criminal has done is morally correct to be done to the prisoner regardless). That, he was convinced, was for the greater good, to get the revive book. Quackity manipulated him; he thinks he’s doing what’s best, but no, of course that doesn’t make him right or his hands clean.

Sam wanted the dog dead because it’s a security risk, especially with Quackity entering the cell with two other people. He killed it later for the exact same reason. Y’all act like nobody else has ever killed an animal in Minecraft RP; get it together. Is Sapnap also evil? Tommy? He killed his own cat. Random animals are not treated with the gravity you guys are giving them; it makes no sense to call out this one time.

When Techno raised the point that he would be fine if Quackity killed him, because Dream could just bring him back, Dream countered with his warning that Techno doesn’t want to experience death, judging by how messed up it made Tommy. What motive would he have to argue that, aside from actually caring about Techno’s well-being? If Dream was only thinking of himself, he would benefit from Techno being willing to die and be brought back to life by him, giving him an easy reason not to give the resurrection knowledge to Quackity. I honestly can’t think of a reason he would argue other than the fact that he doesn’t want Techno to die even temporarily or experience death--that he cares. Interesting...

Dream hiding in the escape tunnel to make it look like he disappeared too was 5,000 IQ, but he didn’t do it just to be silly or smart. Quackity literally threatened to kill Dream when he came back. Dream HAD to pretend to disappear, because he was legitimately in fear for his life. You saw how terrified he was when Sam found him, how he just immediately begged him not to tell Quackity. He was afraid Quackity would come back and kill him before Techno managed to come back and break him out. He believed that would be his fate and had to make a last ditch attempt to avoid that outcome.

Phil confirmed on stream that the blueprints Techno was led to via coordinates are for the prison. Not Tubbo’s missing nuke, like I’ve seen speculated.

“Steve is your polar bear” was written on stream during the “Prison Podcast” Technoblade lore. This is not a mystery. Dream said he wrote it down when Techno started talking about Steve rescuing them.

If Sam doesn’t approve of Quackity killing Dream, why doesn’t he just tell Quackity Dream is still in the prison but not allow Quackity in anymore? Quackity needs Sam to lead him inside, to let him in. Since when did he have any power against Sam to force him to let him in? I don’t understand why Sam has to keep it a secret just to keep Dream alive. Just don’t let Quackity into the prison anymore. Clearly it was a bad idea, since all these security risks happened while Quackity was getting a free pass to not follow the rules of the prison.

Dream casually walking in the way of Sam’s pickaxe to disrupt his swing once Sam almost had the bell broken gets me every time.

The rapport between c!Dream and c!Sam in prison fascinates me. Clearly Dream is much bolder with Sam than Quackity and still seems to trust his sense of duty to a degree. Sam is also more malleable, convinceable, his fatal flaw being actually listening and talking to Dream, even after it clearly messes with him psychologically. He let Quackity manipulate him, too, and he compromises too much. That might seem weird to say, considering the harsh conditions he has Dream in, but. He does give in to a few things.

I’m wondering if Dream wanted to go to the courtyard hoping it was less secure and easier for Techno to break him out of.

Sam has no reason to lie and gaslight about Dream being the one to suggest raw potatoes and sealing up the courtyard. That’s not in his character to do. So clearly Dream suggested these things. In fact, we have proof. Search for the clip of Dream revealing a teaser for future lore, with him telling Sam the hole in the courtyard ceiling for the light is a security flaw. He straight up says that. Update yourselves. Furthermore, are the recordings we have of Dream suggesting nicer features for the prison even lore? Are they in-character, or was it cc!Dream and Sam making plans? I’m genuinely asking, because I don’t remember/am not sure. In any case, clearly the plans changed at some point, and they were Dream’s idea.

Dream said he didn’t realize how bad it was until after he experienced it. This could very well be a lie. However, it could also be a wake-up call. We just don’t know. Dream clearly possesses low empathy, and every person at some point doesn’t fully realize how poorly another being can feel in a bad situation. Sometimes it actually does take experiencing it yourself to realize how it feels. People can do cruel things to others before the empathy fully clicks. It is possible that Dream really does only now understand how harsh his plans were. Unfortunately, it’s just as likely he doesn’t care and is pretending to, because he has a history of acting, lying, and manipulating. We just do not know, and I think that’s part of the fun, the speculation. Note that none of this is excusing what he’s done; that bores me. I just like understanding characters and their psychology and motives.

Sam is ASKING if Dream had this prison built for Tommy. He is suspicious that that is the case. Dream did not TELL him this, because OBVIOUSLY Sam would have absolutely nothing to do with building a prison he knew Dream meant for Tommy. So no, Sam thought it was for something else. And guess what? It was. Back during the disc war finale stream, Dream told Tommy and Tubbo that the prison was originally intended for someone else (maybe multiple people, the number was not specified), but that he changed his mind and would now put Tommy in it (ha ha punny). Tubbo asked who it was originally intended for, and Dream wouldn’t tell him, preferred to keep it a mystery. Dream had zero reason to say this if it weren’t true. In fact, it would have been more impactful to pretend (or admit) he intended it for Tommy all along. Think of the horror, or even the betrayal finding out Sam, his friend, helped make it. So yes, there is every indication that it is the truth--Dream meant the prison for someone else at first.

And Dream didn’t argue with Sam’s accusations, because why WOULD he? If he didn’t tell Tubbo who it was for, he wouldn’t tell Sam now. Plus, he wouldn’t want to argue with Sam, make him more heated and less sympathetic, and risk him deciding to tell Quackity Dream was there after all. Dream has no reason to speak up. Let Sam think what he wants. Dream’s silence does not mean confirmation. This is not a new thing with him. He keeps things mysterious, and there is a lot about his planning and mindset he does not disclose.

Now, whether Dream made the prison harsher before or after he decided he wanted Tommy in it is up for speculation. We don’t know that timeline.

Anyway, Sam’s speech about Dream getting what he deserves is really delicious. All these people out here mocking Dream fans for Dream still being in prison (like Techno’s not imminently coming to break him out, hello?) and being told off by Sam, yet plenty of us are enjoying it, too, like?? Bruh, what kind of Mary-Sue-touting asshole likes characters who are flawless who never go through strife? Can’t be me. I love watching my favs through triumph AND despair, so this is all just a win for me, thanks.

It is possible to sympathize with a bastard who is highly flawed and wrong AND to understand his motivations without justifying his actions AND to realize he deserves punishment (though to what degree I don’t care to argue). All the black and white morality and taking one extreme stance of “this character is perfect!” OR “this character is wholly evil and only ever does things to be sadistic!” and polarizing the community is cringe, yo. You need to calm down. Enjoy the ride or like...get off?

Anyway, Dream is my favorite, Techno is my second favorite, I adore Sam, I really enjoy Quackity, and the SMP wouldn’t be the same without Tommy. So much love for all of this creative work and its creators. I’m having a blast.

[going-dead]

Phasmophobia

Danny was very sick of tourists coming to explore Amity park. Like very sick of them, especially the ‘ghost hunter’ ones. In the end they just caused more problems than the actual ghosts, getting in the way of the fights causing Danny more stress and injuries than normal. Not to mention they sucked at their so called jobs. He was pretty sure even a single elementary schooler of Amity was a better ghost fighter than all of the tourists combined.

But at the moment it was the dead of winter and probably one of the coldest weeks of the year. So only the stupidest of self proclaimed ghost hunters would venture out to hunt ghosts in weather like this. While it was nice not having to worry about danger prone tourists Danny still was miserable, he could deal with the cold just fine in fact he preferred the cold. The problem was that It was the holiday season, the worst time of the year. At least the ghost attacks were less frequent as they all prepared for the Christmas truce party.

Still he supposed it could be worse. His parents weren’t fighting as much this year, though that was probably due to the fact they were still treating him like he was made of glass half of the time after he told them about the whole half dead thing. Danny figured that was due to the fact they blamed themselves for the portal incident, causing them to coddle him to an almost tortuous degree. It was as if they expected him to disappear if he was so much as bumped in the wrong way. It had gotten a bit better at this point at least, if things continued as it did at the beginning Danny was pretty sure he’d rather have them still be shooting at him. Now they only tensed up when he left the house instead of not so subtly stalking him all day.

At the moment Danny was sitting on the counter in the kitchen with his mom while she was cooking dinner. “Danny dear get off the counter that’s where the food goes not you.” Maddie said shooing him off the counter with a spatula.

Danny floated off in a huff, “This is ghostphobic mom. The counter is a perfect seat.”

Maddie rolled her eyes, “The term would be phasmophobic, and no it’s not it’s; I don’t want your butt all over where I’m making our dinner-phobic.”

“Fine transphobic then.”

“How about asking you to set the table? What would that be?”

Danny mulled it over for a few seconds. “A reasonable request I suppose.” He phased his hands though the cabinets grabbing the plates. Honestly he could have just as easily grabbed them normally but he was still trying to get his parents used to him having powers. “Oh by the way Sam, Tucker, and I are hanging out tomorrow to celebrate winter break starting and school being out for two whole weeks.” “Alright sweetie, but be safe okay?”

“Of course I will be mom.”

“I mean it Danny, please.”

Danny sighed “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to text you regularly to let you know I’m safe. I’ll be fine and stay out of trouble, I promise” Maddie nodded seemingly plated at least for the time being.

The next day Danny was really regretting making that promise. The day started out so well too. Danny, Sam, and Tucker were walking along the park trail. Danny was walking a few steps in front of the other two, subtly making the path easier with his powers. The only people out insane enough to bear the cold were people who had to go to work and teens who were bored out of their minds.

“All I’m saying Danny is that if you want to choose that class you should choose a race other than human for once. Hellspawn would be the best option in your case.” Tucker argued.

“Says the dude playing the race for furries.” Danny shot back turning his head to look back at his friend.

“Hey! The beastmen race is a perfect fit for my class, they have an exp boost for trickery and magic skills  it’s the best for playing a character who mains in ambushing with traps.

“Boys boys stop arguing. Danny will be fine playing as a human he’s just gonna have to spend more time grinding. Also he’s right, beastmen are so the furry option.” Sam cut in.

“Whatever, I just don’t understand why he always plays the most boring race in every game he plays. I mean why would you want to play as a human when you could be a fantasy race like an elf or something.”

“Well that’s easy for you and Sam to say you both are still hum-,” Danny was cut off mid sentence by his ghost sense and a glowing red circle surrounding the group. He hardly had a chance to go ghost before being fully enveloped by the light.

When Danny was finally oriented enough to open his eyes he vowed to never complain about getting motion sick while his dad was driving again if it meant he would never have to go through that awful experience again. It felt like getting sucked into the Fenton Thermos if it was the size of a straw and being spun in a blender all at the same time. He looked around seeing if his friends were brought along with him. And just his luck, of course they got pulled through whatever the hell that was too.

“Ugh, you guys okay?” He closed his eyes again and focused on stabilizing his core and getting the last of the nausea to leave.

“Bleh I think I’m gonna hurl.” Sam groaned from beside him.

Danny heard Tucker shift beside him. “Yeah I’m good, I guess all that time staying up late playing VR games kinda helped against motion sickness. Landed on my arm though so definitely going to bruise later. Where are we anyway?”

That actually was a good question, Danny lifted himself off the ground literally, using legs to stand was lame anyway. The sight he was met with was both confusing and surprising. Looking down he saw that the three of them were in some sort of red magic circle or something, with candles lit around it. Looking past that was the part that was surprising. He was expecting this to be the work of a ghost but standing in a circle around the three of them were six  humans in different colored robes. He couldn’t recognize any of them though, they must have been from out of town or just total shut ins. He was pretty sure he recognized where they were though, it was the basement of an abandoned building next to the mall, Sam was super into urban exploring the year before and it was one of the first places she dragged the two boys to.

“Haha uhh hey didn’t know there was a costume party going on, I would have dressed up, looks like you got all the colored robe thing going on though. Would my hazmat suit work instead of a robe?” Danny looked at the group around him and cracked an uneasy smile. Maybe it was some sort of accidental ghost summoning or something, it wouldn’t be the first time. Though the fact it brought his friends along pointed to it either being on purpose or something much more powerful, or both.

The man in the black robe turned to a woman in a white one. “Why did the spell bring two kids along with it .”

Danny tried to ignore being called an ‘it’ not like his parents didn’t do it before they knew about his identity. “I’m not the murder clown and I do have a name you know.” But his words seemed to fall onto deaf ears.

“I did the calculations right if that’s what you’re trying to imply, as you can see the subject did appear in the circle as planned. We probably just underestimated how much power the sacrifice would provide with the addition of the solstice.” White robe snapped. Great, this was totally just what Danny needed at the start of his winter break. Not only did they seem like ghost hunters they were the crazy obsessed culty ones.

“Either way the goal was achieved in the end, we have the ghost boy.” Black robe pointed to two men, one in yellow and one in blue robes. “Take care of the two bystanders, but don’t kill them. After all we shouldn’t kill our soon to be followers.” Yeah that wasn’t concerning at all Danny thought.

The one in the yellow grabbed Sam and the one in the blue grabbed Tucker at the black robed man's command. Danny assumed that probably meant the black robed one was the one in charge here. “Hey! Get your hands off me you freaks!” Sam yelled, struggling against the man’s grip.

But Danny’s friends didn’t have a chance against people twice their size. Before either of them could struggle more the two men slammed their heads to the ground in almost unison, knocking them out almost instantly. It happened so fast all Danny would do is watch on in horror. He felt like he watched their now limp bodies for ages, their chests shallowly rising at least giving him the relief of knowing they were still alive. But the sight of small puddles of blood forming around their heads snapped him out of his horror and into a rage.

Danny placed his feet to the ground turning to look at the two in the black and white robes. “Why?” He seethed, “You said they were accidentally brought along when you were trying to get me here. Technically in a way this falls onto me. So tell me, why?”

The man in the black robe seemed taken aback from being confronted so suddenly. The woman in white didn’t seem to have the same problem, maybe they both were in charge? Honestly though Danny didn’t care at this point. “We will take over the little town you haunt. After we do that we will find out where all the ghosts are originating from and then make them into our soldiers so we can take over the country and then the world. To do that we obviously needed you out of the way since you seem to be the only one capable of combating the other ghosts that come into this world. Or you would just defeat our pawns before they could take true action. So we found a way to summon and trap ghosts, then brought you here so we could get you out of our way.”

Honestly Danny was disappointed hearing that more than anything, his rage almost completely disappeared after hearing the plan. “Hold up that is the stupidest plan I have ever heard.” And that was saying something seeing as he dealt with Vlad's plans on a weekly basis. “First off you do realize it would be very hard to get or even force ghosts into your service if you don’t offer them, anything in return. Not to mention how some ghosts have almost godlike powers and you expect to overpower them? Also I am not even close to the only one who can fight ghosts. Everyone in Amity Park has at least some know how when it comes to ghost fighting. They sell basic ghost protection equipment at the supermarket. I just happen to be better suited than everyone else because I y’know can like fly and go intangible when chasing them. Using ghosts to take over the world is so stupid do you even know how to properly catch a ghost? Seriously this is like next level dumb, not to mention how did you even know the summoning would work if it didn't you’d just all be standing in a darkly lit room looking dumber than you already do.”

That seemed to anger the white one a lot. Apparently she didn’t like her intelligence questioned. “Why you little-.” She stomped her foot. “This plan was thought through down to the smallest detail. You want to know how it worked huh? How about asking your friend over there. I wonder what happens when the dead are killed? You will find out soon enough.”

Danny looked over to where we gestured and his refound taunting attitude vanished. Laying over in the corner inside a smaller less complex looking circle was a ghost or the ectoplasmic remains of one at least, the core was completely destroyed. Judging by the fact that the ectoplasm was red it probably had a fire core before it was destroyed. From the lingering ecto signature Danny doubted the ghost was even sapient. It was most likely the remains of something like a blob ghost or the ghost of an animal or even a weaker ectopus. Still all he could do was stare at the remains in horror.

“Of course summoning you was harder so we used that thing for its ghost energy to help power the circle. Instead of chalk we used it’s ectoplasm to ensure the strength and longevity of the seal to hold you in the circle.” The woman smiled as if she achieved something great. Achieve something she did indeed, but it certainly was not what she intended.

The rage Danny felt before came back in full force. Before with his friends he at least knew they would recover, all three of them got injured fighting ghosts more often than they should. But to injure a ghost to the point where not even their core remained was something so taboo that only the most despicable ghosts would do. Even Skulker kept the cores of his prey stable enough not to fade away completely. A ghost's form could be completely destroyed but as long as their core remained they would reform back where they first formed in the Ghost Zone. The only ghosts Danny could think of who would go out of their way to destroy a core were some of the ancients like Pariah Dark or Nocturne.

Danny finally managed to tear his eyes away from the ghost's remains to lock eyes with the woman. She and the black robed man took a step back out of instinct. Looking into his eyes they felt the feeling every animal of prey felt when it knew it was being watched, being hunted. The temperature in the room dropped and frost started to crawl across the walls. Danny took a step towards the two leaders before pausing to reconsider and turning and starting towards the two men standing above his friends.

Then men in yellow and blue robes looked to the man in black for guidance, unsure of what action to take. He looked uncertain as well but shook his head. “There’s no way it can pass through the seal, we tested it.”

Danny's eyes flicked over to the man then back to the two who hurt his friends and gave them a predatory grin, his teeth now looking slightly sharper than usual. He made no sound as he stepped over the circle with ease closer and closer to the two men. They both reached for their weapons, small bats, apparently they were the muscle of the group, and swung at the approaching ghost. Danny simply went intangible causing the two to overswing and hit each other instead, knocking the wind out of them both and causing them to drop their bats. While they were catching their breath Danny grabbed them by their hair and knocked their heads together. Their bodies crumbled to the floor just a few inches from the teens they did the same to just minutes before.

The one who had yet to say or do anything, dressed in red, made her way towards Danny while his back was towards her. Just as she got within arms reach of him she slipped and fell. The temperature had dropped even more at this point causing the ground surrounding Danny to ice over. Danny hardly acknowledged the large thud behind him simply trapping the fallen woman up to her neck in ice as he walked past and headed towards his final two targets.

When first summoned by the group Danny could, within reason, probably be passed off as a weirdish looking human excluding the glow around him. But now as he stalked towards his prey that was no longer the case. His chest no longer moved like it was breathing. His feet made no sound as they made contact with the ground. His eyes, non-blinking, no longer had pupils or even whites to them just a void of endless ectoplasmic green. His ears were pointed almost bat like. The tips of which, along with his lips, were tinted blue. His hair, normally white like snow, now was just the white that came from complete absence of any color. The hair was defying gravity almost as if it was underwater while smoke like wisps trailed off from his hair as he moved. His mouth was twisted into an emotionless smile splitting through his cheeks showing needle like teeth all the way back to where his molars would have been, there was no tongue or throat behind them, just another endless green void. The skin of his neck that was showing past the hazmat suit was marked with lightning like scars. The glow around him seemed to absorb all the light in the room.

The man in the black robe looked between the approaching horror and his partner before running towards the exit. Danny moved so fast it was almost as if he materialized right in front of the man. The man stumbled back falling down in shock but still tried to scramble away from him crossing his chest as he did so. Just as Danny started to raise his arm towards the man he paused and lurched back.

He looked down at his chest where an ornate knife was now lodged. Holding onto the hilt was the woman, she gave the knife a final twist before letting go and herding her partner into the corner farthest away from Danny. Danny showed no pain as he grabbed the knife and pulled it out, the blade was dripping with ectoplasm, and dropped it on the ground. The wound in his chest already healing, filling with more ectoplasm to replace what was lost.

The smile that was marring Danny’s face was replaced with a scowl as he made his way towards the corner where the two were cowering. Placing a hand on their necks he lifted them both up against the wall and started slowly burning their skin with an ectoblast. He let them go, letting them fall to the ground only when their screams of pain turned silent as crushed vocal cords and burnt throat muscles took their toll. Both cult leaders looked up at him in horror faces pale. "What's wrong?" Danny smiled, "It looks like you've seen a ghost."

The woman looked at him in fear as she grasped at the raw skin of her throat, which now was covered in blisters and charred in some of the worst places. “Wha-, what, what are you?” She managed to rasp out before coughing up some blood.

Danny let out a dark chuckle, his voice echoed over itself. “I-,” he snarled, “am a Phantom .”

After Danny sent an anonymous tip to the police about the cult, he brought his friends back to his house. Of course his mom freaked out after he stopped responding to her texts and even more when he phased into the living room with an unconscious Sam and Tucker. He was pretty sure she was about to break out the BOOmerang if she didn’t hear from him for much longer. She was more than willing to take the two of them to the hospital to get them checked out.

Danny made a quick stop into the ghost zone to tell Clockwork to spread the word to other ghosts to be on alert and that there were humans that were trying to summon and capture ghosts. After telling Clockwork what happened, in much more detail than the briefest summary he gave his mom, including how he probably went a bit overboard with dealing with the cultists. He also admitted he didn't regret it even if he did go overboard. They hurt his friends and caused a ghost to completely fade, and in Danny’s opinion they deserve whatever came to them. The whole story caused Clockwork to also start fretting over him making sure to let Danny know that his reaction was a completely normal response to someone threatening something that falls within his obsession especially since it happened in his haunt of all places. Danny swore that his ghostly mentor could be worse than his own parents sometimes especially when it came to reassuring him about his more ghostly tendencies.  

Luckily after being released from the hospital it turned out the worst Sam and Tucker suffered were concussions that would heal in a decently short amount of time. That didn’t mean they weren’t complaining about it though.

“Stop laughing about my suffering Danny! I won’t be able to start playing Fantasy War Online VII until my two week tech restriction is lifted by my doctor. It was bad enough I had to go to a hospital but to be taken away from my lovely devices as well is just too much.” Tucker lamented.  

“Quit complaining and suck it up. I’m on the restriction too Tucker.” Sam pointed out.

Tucker huffed. “Yeah well you’ll probably manage to catch up to all the people who are getting it on release day easily, since you’re scarily good at MMO’s.” He flopped back onto Danny’s bed. “Hey at least this gives us more time to convince Danny to play something other than a human for once in his life. Like I said before the hellspawn is the perfect race for the build you’re going for.”

Danny just rolled his eyes. “And like I said before, I like being a human.” “Whatever dude just don’t complain when I utterly beat you if we end up fighting because you wanted to be the lamest most boring race ever.”

Danny shrugged. “Somehow I’ll cope, I just think it’s nice to be seen as normal and not scary.”

Sam laughed. “Danny you are the least scary person like to ever exist. The only things scary about you are your grades and your wacky parents. I doubt you could be scary if you tried.”

Danny looked out the window watching the stars as they started to appear in the sky. “...Yeah I guess you’re right.”

[iconic-ponytail]

there's always money in the banana stand

riverdale promptathon week 3: yellow + business

Even as the sun sets, even as the breeze blows, the hell furnace of July in Riverdale burns on. It’s triply as sweltering inside the tiny booth running three freezers, offloading heat to sustain the frozen merchandise inside. “How can it be so hot in there when we are supposed to be selling frozen bananas?” JB complains, at least twice a week.

She’s twelve. Complaint is her new first language. She complains about being left in Riverdale while Gladys went back to Toledo. She complains about living in a trailer park that usually does not have warm water. She complains about their father being imprisoned for covering up a gruesome murder. But most of all, she complains about working in the banana stand.

Child labor laws aside, Jughead can’t blame her for that one. He hates the damn banana stand, but it’s their best shot.

Gladys’ monthly check covers rent and utilities for the trailer. Everything else is on him, now. The idiot eighteen year old who decided to petition the court to be his sister’s legal guardian. Well, and his idiot mom who signed off on it. So he needs money, and the Jones family has never been particularly flush with cash, just trampled over by FP’s failed “business opportunities.”

Enter: the banana stand.

It’s not the fastest revenue stream, Jughead finds. But it’s got potential.

Initially, Dilton doesn’t let him sell during the Twilight Drive-In’s concession stand hours. Before or after the movie, sure, but no overlap. “I’m not worried about competition, Jones. It’s just too humiliating for me to watch you sweat through that horrible yellow polo you call ‘branding.’”

But when customers asked him more than twice a night when the banana stand would be open, Dilton caved.

It’s not like being open during the screening hours is a whole lot more preferable. He only just transferred from Southside to Riverdale High last spring; now he’s the rising senior who hands out phallic symbols from inside a giant phallic symbol. Not exactly a boon to his popularity.

Still, recently the money is enough to pay the internet bill and keep JB fed for dinner when she can’t go to the summer breakfast and lunch program at the local park district. It’s still not enough for him to eat particularly well, and the smell of hot dogs and slurp of his classmates’ slushies makes the heat feel like a minor inconvenience.

He eyes the tip jar, willing himself to wait on rampaging the concession stand until the beginning of the film roar dies down. It’s a double feature tonight, which means maybe he can score enough cash to cover those damn college application fees his counselor will start hounding him about week one of school.

Then he sees her—Betty Cooper. She’s laughing, watching Archie Andrews try to catch popcorn in his mouth, tossed by his paramour, Veronica Lodge. She pauses to sip from her slushie straw, her lips—which he’s watched argue against homophobic and racist comments in their advanced lit class, or pressed to the cheek of her other best friend, Kevin Keller. Which he’s imagined, doing slightly less savory things, though the mere thought of said imagining has his heart pounding wildly.

(Jughead’s been eating way too many fucking bananas. Someone needs to check his potassium levels.)

His absolutely pathetic gaze, once available three times a day in their shared classes where Jughead has still not managed to exert any confidence whatsoever regarding speech, eye contact, or general acknowledgement of Betty Cooper’s existence other than whatever drooling may or may not be happening, all of which he finds he has no control over… is all interrupted by the absolute polar opposite of Betty Cooper. Hiram Lodge zooms up to the banana stand on his segway, angling to a stop just before taking out the stand’s foundation.

“Still getting a hang of that, Mayor Lodge?”

Hiram grimaces. “Just checking that you’ve renewed your business permit, Jones.”

They do this once a week. It’s still the same permit.

“You know,” Hiram starts as Jughead rustles for the paperwork to make him go the fuck away, “I could find you an arrangement with a better banana supplier. For a discount. If you’re interested.”

Jughead rolls his eyes. “I’m not interested in your GMO, black market bananas, Hiram.”

Hiram gives him a pointed look. Jughead rolls his eyes even harder. “Mayor Lodge.” He proffers the papers, Hiram waves them away. “I’ll take one chocolate peanut butter dip. With peanuts.”

Jughead kisses his teeth. “That will be $3.50.”

Hiram’s whole face goes serpentine. “Not between business partners, Jones. Put it on my tab.”

Jughead grits his teeth, handing the finished banana so aggressively he hopes that the chocolate splatters and stains Hiram’s $500 tie. It is only slightly worth it to watch Hiram struggle with navigating the segway one-handed, frozen banana in the other.

He muffles a chuckle before realizing he’s used the dead end of the chopped peanut topping, and exits the stand to update the order board hanging on the outside. It’s mostly an excuse to feel a ten degree drop in temperature, a sweet relief he might be able to extend by grabbing a hot dog before the intermission rush.

He’s crossing off peanuts from the topping list and spinning around when he hears a shriek and a sudden, cold slosh across his chest. The yellow polo drips with artificial blue slushie, but Jughead swallows his fucking hell when he sees that the shriek, gaping stare of horror, and stumble in question all belong to his very own blonde kryptonite.

“Oh my god. Oh my GOD, jesus, shit, I’m so sorry!”

Jughead is frozen while Betty grabs about half his napkin dispenser and starts pawing at his shirt in a vain attempt to right the giant sticky blue mess all over his chest.

Finally, Jughead swallows the golf ball in his throat and chokes out. “Honestly, it’s fine. That stand is a sauna. I needed that.”

Betty stops, both her blotting and her stream of apologizing (which includes a fair bit of cursing, and he is a little revolted with himself by how much this turns him on).

“It’s going to get very sticky, soon. Maybe I should buy a bottle of cold water?”

Jughead can’t help himself. “Oh, impromptu yellow t-shirt contest?”

Betty grins.

I did that.

“Do you have any employees who could bring you another shirt?”

Jughead shakes his head. “Just my sister. She’s playing video games at home. There’s no earthly way she’ll bring me a spare.”

Betty cocks her head. “I had a feeling you were more than the silent back row kind of guy.”

The fact that Betty Cooper has, at any point, considered what kind of guy he is triggers full-on nervous blathering. “I’m usually very tired at school. I have this little sister—but I’m kind of um, her guardian. So I’m doing this stupid banana stand thing because it’s like one of the three assets to our entire family name I guess? Anyway, it’s hard to engage with Haggly’s basic discussion questions at eight in the morning when you spent the whole night dreaming about wholesale banana margins.”

He’s essentially vomiting words, but Betty is still smiling.

“Anyway, I should crawl back into my fruit-shaped purgatory and let you go back to your friends.”

She’s biting her lip, hedging. “Honestly, they’re probably using the alone time to make out in the car, and I’d rather let them get all their sexual tension out so that I don’t have to feel it radiating off of them for the whole second half of the double feature.”

Jughead laughs and tamps down the impulse to offer her a frozen banana, because he cannot possibly say something like that without making it sound sexual.

“What are frozen banana profit margins like, anyway?” Betty asks, either genuinely interested or legitimately flirting with him. Jughead finds both potentials baffling.

Jughead hesitates, then ducks inside the stand, pulling out his spiral bound notebook. “I’m still kind of figuring it out. All my records are in here.”

Betty sidles up to the stand, taking up the whole window. They’re both leaning over the scribbled line items on college ruled paper; he can smell her shampoo. She takes the notebook, scanning thoroughly.

“Do you have a pencil?”

He hands her one and observes her going to work, writing out some algebraic formula and calculating quickly in her head. There is a calculator within his reach, but he thinks handing it to her might come off as an insult. (Jughead wouldn’t know; he assumes Betty is in an advanced math class. Jughead is not.)

After a few minutes of watching her devoted focus, thinking about her hands touching his pencil, thinking about her hands wrapped around his hand, or his—

“I don’t know how to tell this to you, Jug.”

The shortening of his name stops his heart for a jolt, and his response is embarrassingly delayed. “What is it?”

Betty winces but smiles through it, a combination she’s surely learned to use when delivering bad news. It’s well earned, it really does soften the blow.

“There’s no money in the banana stand. At least, not with these margins.”

Jughead finds himself less than devastated by this news, mostly because it makes a hell of a lot of sense. The messenger doesn’t hurt, either.

“But,” she interrupts. “I don’t know if you’ve nailed down your course load for senior year. But I’m taking AP Econ? This could be, um, a good project. Like, if you want to take the class. Or even if you don’t. Not that you’re like a project or… whatever. I’m just saying we could figure it out. Make lemonade out of… bananas.”

Betty Cooper is extremely cute when she stammers.

Jughead doesn’t know what to do, so he gives her an easy out. “I can’t like, hire you, if that wasn’t obvious by the whole… deficit spending or whatever the whole negative circled number at the bottom of the page really means.”

She flushes. “No, that would be highway robbery. I just thought there might be an… opportunity. For um, us. I mean, for you and I. I mean—” she clears her throat, as if it’s closing up. “An academic opportunity. Or, in your case, professional. Well, a betterment of your livelihood. Okay, um, shit, just… I should go!”

She turns away, her face the deepest scarlet he’s ever seen.

“Betty, wait.”

She pivots back, eyes down at the ground.

“How about I buy you a new slushie and you come back into the booth. Tell me everything I’m doing wrong for the rest of the night.”

Betty looks up, biting the corner of her smile. “Sounds like a deal.”

They shake on it.

[jean-kayak]

Falling Back Into Your Bed

Summary: One night was enough to have you crawling back to him

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x black!fem!reader

Warnings: college!au, (smut 18+!!), fingering, oral sex, unprotected sex, degradation, Eren's a little shit, little bit of ass smacking, mentions of sex under the influence (consensual), enemies to lovers sort of?

Word Count: 3120

A/N: This is has been in the drafts for a while, and it wasn't supposed to take the turn it was supposed to but I'm happy with it lmaoo. Completely unrelated, but I like making headers lol

It happened one time. To say you weren't really in the straightest mindset, but it happened once and now you're hooked. Your brain only filled with those images from that night. You groan as you pull at your hair, no matter how hard you try, you can't focus on studying. Your brain completely occupied.

"You seem troubled? Need some help?" The snarky comment comes from your right, and you scoff as you rub your forehead.

"Shut the fuck up," you spit with a little more aggression than you intended as you try to focus on anything but that amazing night.

"You thinking about that night? It could always happen again." The words whispered against your skin makes the images flash fully in your head, and you push him away from you, which only gets a chuckle in return.

"Fuck off, Jaeger," you groan as you close your textbook.

"You alright?" Sasha asks you, and you sigh as you nod.

"Yeah, it's just been a long day. I think I'm gonna head back to my dorm." You end your study session with your friends, stuffing your books in your bag, giving them a wave of goodbye as you walk out of the library, sighing in content when the sun rays hit your skin.

You slept with Eren. The only person who can get on your nerves to the nth degree. You woke up in horror realizing what you did, but the horror was that you liked it. It was amazing, the best sex you've ever had. Of course, it has to come from the person you despise the most.

It was a party that Jean wanted you to go to, and he happened to be there, annoying you to no end as he usually is, and then he was kissing you, and then you're walking up to his room and the rest is history. The memories of that night flood your head again.

The way his hands felt hot against your skin, branding a path all over your body. The way his lips brushed all over your skin, stopping to show some parts of your body some love by sucking dark marks onto the skin that took you forever to cover up.

The way his d--

Wait, stop! What am I doing?

You shake your head as you take another deep breath. This is not how you thought your week was going to go.

"I don't know if you have mind-blowing sex what's the big deal? I'm failing to see the problem," Hitch says, and you roll your eyes as you fall back on your bed.

"The problem is that I don't like him. He gets on my last nerve. Why can't I have amazing sex with a guy that I don't wanna stab on a daily basis?" you argue, and Hitch scoffs as she rolls her eyes.

"Well, maybe it's the fact that you don't like each other that's making the sex great."

"I just wanna stop thinking about it," you admit.

"Well, it doesn't seem to be bothering him as much as it is you," she responds, and that part is what makes you the most irritated and confused.

You were sure you weren't that bad,  but it's like he isn't even fazed by it, only teasing you about it in the best way possible. You groan as you roll over, burying your face in your pillow.

The only reason why you're forced to interact with him is that you're friends with Armin who's best friends with Eren. If that wasn't the case, you probably would never see him again, let alone be in the same room as him where he can annoy you.

"Whatever. Maybe I just need to get laid again, get him off my mind," you mumble into the pillow, and you know Hitch is giving you a look without even turning your head.

"Yeah, okay. Whatever you say," she muses. "Speaking of getting laid, there's another party tonight if you want to go."

You turn your head to the side to face her. "Weren't you just a party last weekend?" you comment, and she shrugs.

"You only live once." You raise your eyebrows at her answer but shrug anyway.

"If I don't have anything to do, then I'll go."

~

You should've stayed the fuck home because this party is not it. You don't know if it's because you really don't want to be here or the fact that you're sober, but you can't help but sigh in annoyance as you walk through the crowd until you find a corner where anyone isn't making out.

You nurse your drink, but the taste of the beer is slowly making you sick after two sips, so you just hold it to give you something to do. "You look like you're having fun."

You roll your eyes at the familiar voice, tilting your head to the side as you look at him. "I should've known you'd be here." You knew that you should've listened to that weird feeling in the back of your head the moment you stepped into the room. "I'm not really feeling it," you say, and he steps closer to you.

"Well, we could always go somewhere else, and I can make you scream while I split you open on my dick again." You clench your jaw as you find something else to look at, trying and failing to ignore the way his words make your body hot all over.

You scoff. "Yeah, in your dreams."

"Really? You don't miss this?" he asks, pulling you into him, and you can't help when your mouth falls open slightly your breath hitching. "Cause I sure miss the way your tight pussy clamped around me."

Your thighs squeeze together subconsciously as you let out a small moan, luckily it's muffled by the music, but he doesn't miss your reaction. "Yeah, I'll pass," you muster, and he smirks as he chuckles.

"Fine, have it your way. The offer still stands," he says before he walks away, and you sigh heavily as you drink from your cup. You have to get out of here.

Eren can't take his eyes off of you as you walk around the room. You've filled your cup back up, but you haven't drank from it, the only thing on your face is that you want to get out of here. Even as you talk to some blond guy, Reiner he thinks his name is, your face is very evident in showing that you're tired of this conversation, but you're too nice to leave.

He walked over to talk to you just to tease you but ended up doing the same thing to himself. He finds it funny that you seem to deny what happened between you two even though you reacted the way you did. If he could take you in front of all these people, he would.

Well, he can, but he's better than that.

He doesn't tell you this, he doesn't think he will, but you're the only thing that's been on his mind, but he's just better at hiding it. He can't count how many times he's thought about your body, the noises you made, how fucked out you looked as you took his dick. Every time he touches himself, those are the only things he thinks about.

And every single time he finishes, he declares that he's going to get you back into his bed.

Which is why he decided to come to this party even though he didn't want to. He knew Hitch would drag you out here, and he knew that there was no way he was letting you go.

He almost feels bad for the guy. Even though he can't hear the conversation, he knows Reiner is trying and failing to woo you with his awful flirting tactics. He can recognize your fake laugh from a mile away.

He decides that he can't stand to watch this horror show any longer, and he moves over to where you are, rolling his eyes at a lame pick-up line he hears come from him. "Hey, I need to talk to you," he buds in, and you give him a look.

"I'm in the middle of a conversation." You state the obvious, and he gives you a lazy look.

"Yeah, not really," he responds, and you squint at him. "Come on, it'll take a second."

You sigh, giving in before turning to the buff guy next to you. "I'll be right back," you tell him, and only Eren knows that that's not true.

He eyes Eren before giving you a smile and a nod, and you follow Eren as you walk the too familiar walk to his room. He closes the door behind him when you walk in, and you cross your arms. "What was so important that you had to pull me from my conversation?" you question, annoyed, and he smiles at you.

"Yeah, it totally looked like you were enjoying that little chat." You roll your eyes as he takes your cup out of your hand, setting it on his dresser. "How much have you had?"

You frown at him. "To drink? Not enough because it's difficult to have a conversation with you sober."

He chuckles lightly as he walks closer to you until your knees hit the bed. "Can I say something?" he asks, and you try to act like his close proximity isn't bothering you.

"If it'll make this end sooner."

"All I've thought about is that night," he tells you, and he moves closer, making you fall down onto the bed as you look up at him with wide eyes. He hovers over you, one hand on the mattress next to you, the other trailing down your body, making goosebumps break out over your skin.

"How good you felt, how loud you were, how fucking soaked you were." His lips brush against yours as he runs a hand down your tube top, biting your lip when he rolls his finger over your nipple.

"What does this have to do with me being sober?" you ask breathlessly, and he smirks as his hand moves down to your shorts, and he doesn't miss the way your thighs tense like you don't know whether to close them or not.

"Because I want to see if I can make you scream just as loud." He crashes his lips down on yours, making you squeak in surprise before you finally let him in, moaning when his tongue rubs over the roof of your mouth.

You thought your thoughts about Eren would change if you were sober, but he's just as addicting as he was that night, and you find it difficult to object to anything he's doing.

He crawls with you as you move up further on the bed, your body flushing hot all over. He works your shirt off, throwing it somewhere off to the side before trailing hot, wet kisses down your neck before moving to your chest.

Your hand makes its way into his hair, messing up the bun that it was in as he mouths at your nipples, pulling the taut bud with his teeth and his fingers before switching. "Did I ever tell you that you have nice tits?" he tells you with a playful smile on his face as he fondles them, and you scoff at his childish comment as you shift on the bed, the rough abrasion of your shorts against your crotch becoming extremely uncomfortable.

He works his shirt off as he slides down your body, his lips just grazing your skin to be teasing, and he unbuttons your shorts, peeling them off your legs, letting out a huff when his eyes land on your panties.

"You're so fucking wet," he mumbles, and you hiss at the cool air hitting your sensitive core when he pulls the fabric down and off your legs. You start to say something when he doesn't move, but you let out a low moan in surprise when he licks a broad stripe up your folds.

Your back arches off the bed at the sudden stimulation, and he lays an arm over your hips to keep you still, his other hand digging into the flesh of your thighs as he keeps you spread open. "And you taste so fucking good," he groans as he moves from licking between your folds to flicking at your clit.

"Fuck, Eren," you whine, pulling at the roots when his tongue prods at your hole.

"Come on, baby, I know you can be louder than that," he challenges, pushing one of your legs over to give him more room. His tongue prods at your hole before he replaces it with his fingers, his mouth going back to focus on your clit.

He's already curling two fingers inside of you as he sucks on the bundles of nerves, pulling it into his mouth, before circling his tongue around the bud. What you definitely didn't forget was how amazing his head game was. Your toes curl as the grip on his hair tightens, and it takes a few more pumps on his fingers hitting that sensitive spot inside of you to make you cum, moaning loudly as your orgasm hits.

"There we go. That's better," Eren says before moving his tongue to your hole to lap up your release. You're panting as he moves back up towards your face, his covered in your release. "But I still think you can be louder."

"You sound like you're all talk," you challenge even though you're still breathless.

He chuckles darkly before getting rid of the rest of his clothes, putting himself right back over you. "Sounds like you're undermining my skills," he jabs back as he lines himself up.

"Sounds like you're overestimating yourself," you counter, but you trail off before you can finish the last word as he pushes himself in, and you both moan at the feeling.

"Shit, I'll never get over how amazing you feel," he breathes once he bottoms out, and you're urging him to move, which he quickly obliges, your mouth falling open at the feeling of being stretched out with every stroke.

He moves himself so that he's on his knees, your hips angled upwards as he thrusts into you way too slowly for your liking. "Come on, Eren," you whine, knowing he can make you feel way better than he is right now. "Fuck me harder," you plead, and he coos at you.

"Aww, but I'm trying to make love to you, princess," he drawls, and you groan in frustration as you try to move, but he holds you down, making sure he's the only one moving.

"I don't want you to make love to me," you whine, desperate to have him fuck you until you see stars.

"But I like seeing you beg for me, seeing you so desperate, it's cute, keep going," he says, and you roll your eyes.

"Fuck--" He cuts you off with a sharp thrust, nailing your g-spot with ease.

"Me? Well, you're already doing that, sweetheart." You scrunch your nose at the stupid pet name, and you scoff before you smirk at him.

"As I said, you're all talk," you taunt. "Pretty sure Reiner could make me scream louder than you ever could." The playful demeanor in his face drops and his eyes are going dark, and suddenly he's pulling out of you, and rolling you onto your stomach.

He pulls you up to your knees, and he slams into you, making you cry out at the sudden intrusion as your eyes roll back. "You think you're funny, huh?" he spits before pulling you to his chest by your shoulder. "You wanted to get a rise out of me so that I could fuck you like a filthy whore."

You can barely respond, your body feeling like it's being shocked every time he rams that spot, and you jolt when he pushes on your clit. "Already going stupid? I haven't even done anything yet."

He pushes you back down, pushing your back until your chest is flush against his bed. "You're such a needy slut, aren't you?" A smack to your ass, the sting snapping you out of your daze. "Answer me."

"Fuck yes!" You can barely get it out, your knuckles starting to hurt from how hard you're gripping the sheets.

"Who's fucking you this good?" You don't answer quick enough, it's not like you can, but that only makes him fuck you harder. "Who?!"

"You! God, Eren, you," you moan, and you release your grip on the sheets as you feel yourself starting to drool.

"Who owns this fucking cunt? Fuck." His head falls back on his shoulders as you clamp around him, and he pushes on your clit again when you don't respond.

"You, oh fuck, 's all yours." You buck your hips back, meeting his, and he smacks your ass again.

"Come on, baby, you can say my name." He sounds just as wrecked as you, and his name is the only thing you're coherent enough to say, and you know that you're loud and that anyone walking past the door or on the other side of the walls can hear you.

"Shit, your pussy is so," he cuts himself off with a groan, his body curling as he feels his high building up as you suck him back in.

"Eren, I'm--" You try to tell him that you're close, so close, but you can't, tears running down your face from the constant stimulation on that spot inside of you.

He responds with a groan, and you know he's close too, and the next thing you know, you're cumming hard, your body going rigid. Your orgasm triggers his, and he cums with a moan of your name, his climax hitting him so hard, he falls on top of you.

Both of you fall down on the bed, his ragged breathing fanning against your neck, and he rolls the both of you over before rubbing up and down your top half softly. "You okay?" he asks against your neck, and you can feel the smirk on your skin.

You respond with a content whine, and his grip on your waist tightens when you try to move. "Stop moving. I'm trying to cuddle you."

You scoff before chuckling lightly. "Since when you do cuddle?"

"Since now. Now, shut up, I'm trying to go to sleep."

You roll your eyes at the words, but there's no heat behind them, and you feel sleep catching up to you as well.

Eren Jaeger might annoy to no end, but maybe this isn't so bad.

[lynnpaper]

Hey :) Great work. Could you write something were Ahsoka gets a panic attack and Anakin and/or Obi-Wan help her?

I could! I'm writing this as a part 2 to this fic, but it works as a standalone too. :)

Read it on AO3

They’re sparring.

There is nothing unusual about that.

The temple training grounds are empty, the sun having set hours ago. She’s doing well—maybe the darkness gives her confidence, fuelled by the reassurance that Anakin must work harder to watch her strikes. All she sees is a dark whirl of robes and a blinding blue saber, and the twin blades in her own hands, so familiar they now feel like mere extensions of her arms.

But her opponent is one thing. Her surroundings are another.

So it’s no surprise when her back hits the wall, but she’s not prepared for her throat to close in.

It doesn’t have far to go—the hand around her windpipe does a good job of cutting her air off, but the unexpected terror pulls the very breath from her chest from the moment she feels stone against her skin, and suddenly she’s blind, her head spinning from the impact.

She should be able to push him off. She’s trained for this, her sabers are in her hands, and he’s standing right in front of her, five different openings for her to kick or shove at. It’s almost as if he wants to lose, practically inviting her to beat him away and draw her saber and press it to his neck. She should be pinning him to the ground right now, waiting for that blessed solah.

But she doesn’t, because she can’t.

The grip on her neck turns into a gnarled purple hand, the face of her beloved master into that of a rugged feline, the warmth of plasma blades into burning electro-whips. She’s not a padawan, but a slave; she’s not in the training courtyard, but in a secluded alley; she’s not in the Temple, full of comforting Force signatures, but alone, her voice too small to scream for help, her body too weak to resist the disgusting advances they’re making on her—

Ahsoka.

The grip on her throat falters. Her sabers fall somewhere beside her as she crumples to the ground.

Anakin goes with her. He pulls her away from the wall before she hits her head against it, but she pushes him off before he can do any more. A desperate sound tears from her throat, and horror floods his mind because he’s heard that before.

Anakin kneels in front of her. Her breaths come too quick, too shallow, and he belatedly wonders if she is dizzy yet. The darkness hides her face, and if it didn’t then he wouldn’t be able to see it anyway, for how she holds her gaze straight below his. Cowering.

Ahsoka scrabbles at the ground, the rough stone scraping her fingertips raw. The physical pain is a welcome reprieve from its counterpart in her mind. Her fingers wander, searching frantically for something to hold on to, something to ground her, some semblance of a handhold before she falls off the cliff.

“Breathe, Ahsoka,” she hears.

She can’t breathe. “I can’t.”

“You can,” Anakin soothes. “I know you can.”

“I can’t,” she gasps. She can’t.

“Hey,” Anakin says softly. It’s unfair that he’s calm. “Breathe with me, Ahsoka.”

Ahsoka sobs, curling in on herself. Her chest hurts and her hands shake and her fingers are numb. There’s a nudge at her chin, cool as the night air, and she lifts her head almost on instinct before the nudge can turn into a push.

She meets his gaze. For once, she wonders how it would feel to not have the night vision of a predator—she wishes she didn’t have to see the sadness in his eyes as clear as day. Her species evolved to hunt, to seek out prey in lightless terrains. Not for this.

Anakin takes her hand, squeezes it tight. “Feel that?” he asks softly, calmly. It is hard to hide his own fear, hard to shape the words into what he wants them to be.

Ahsoka nods.

Good.

“Focus on my touch, alright?”

Please don’t touch me, she’d said.

“Okay,” Ahsoka rasps. Is that her voice? Force.

How she wishes he would wrap his arms tight around her. How she wishes he would hold her, the way he always does when she breaks. She would resist at first, but calm down soon after, because the warmth of Anakin’s arms could never be mistaken for the claustrophobic grip of that Zyge—

“Breathe, Ahsoka,” Anakin says again. It’s an order. But he doesn’t know—can he hold her? Will she shove him away? The mission on Zygerria ruined tactile comfort forever, and without it he doesn't know what to do.

Perhaps the darkness is a blessing. If Ahsoka saw Anakin’s distress in response to her panic, it would only make matters worse.

She tries again, for there is only one road out of this, and it is littered with broken glass.

The first true drag of air burns her throat, her chest aching as she takes a shuddering breath. She lets it out in a shuddering exhale, and starts again. Then reaches blindly in front of her, finding familiar cloth beneath her fingers.

Anakin embraces her tentatively. Tentatively, in case she recoils. Tentatively, in case she decides this is too much. Anakin Skywalker is not tentative—Anakin Skywalker rushes into things, instinct overriding rationality. His saber thinks before he does.

But he can make an exception. For her.

“You’re okay,” Anakin says softly, and if he can shape the words into something tangible and physical, then maybe the promise will hold. “You’re gonna be okay.”

Ahsoka’s breath hitches, and she shudders in his arms. Her chest is tight. Oxygen does not come easy.

This is her lifeline—this is what she holds on to when the current grows too strong. This is her determination, the friction that keeps her on her feet when the water lashes at her thighs and the rocks beat at her ankles.

Five things you see. A collar, a cage, a whip—

“I’m sorry,” she tries, in a voice which is not hers. There is nothing else to say.

“Don’t be,” he answers instantly. There is nothing else to reply.

Four things you hear. His voice, his voice, his voice, his voice—

She can say, with some degree of certainty, that she will not sleep tonight.

So Ahsoka searches for the old list in her mind, a growing collection of ways to stay awake, how to look alive, how to stave off exhaustion. Unfiltered, honest advice, scoured from conversations not intended for her to hear, passed between older padawans and knights. Hushed whispers in the barracks, the solemn voices of brothers trickling in like sand. Quiet fights between her master and his, which ultimately only served as eavesdropping practice for her.

Three—

“What happened there?” Anakin asks, a hand rubbing circles into her back.

Ahsoka takes another shaky breath. She’s good at learning things, but learning how to breathe again is far beyond her capabilities now. “When you held me—” She pulls back, unconsciously touching her neck with freshly scraped-raw fingertips, the phantom ache lingering like dirt on her skin.

Anakin takes her hand, guiding it away from her throat. He replaces it with his own, brushing over invisible bruises and a racing pulse; carefully tilts her chin up, his eyes tracing the smooth line of her neck, as if any marks will show at all in the muted light of the moon.

He is so gentle. Ahsoka cannot believe these are the same hands that knocked her against a wall, and held a lightsaber to her throat, and battered bruises into her shoulders before she learned how to dodge them. The same hands that untangled the beads hanging behind her lekku, and pulled her back to her feet every time she fell, and held her when nights were too long to sleep through alone.

Ahsoka places her hands over Anakin’s. The worn leather is smooth under her palms. “Felt like him,” she says hoarsely. A name waits behind her lips, bitter on her tongue. She so badly wants to spit it out, but she doesn’t have the energy left.

“Did I hurt you?” Anakin asks. He cares so much—it terrifies her.

Not in that way, no.

“No,” she whispers.

Anakin frowns. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

It’s difficult to find the right words at the moment. Anakin waits for them to find him instead, lest he say something wrong. Anakin is very good at that—saying something wrong.

“Let me try again,” Ahsoka whispers.

Anakin shakes his head. “Ahsoka—”

“I can do it. I won’t panic this time.” Some things are not worth crying over. But it’s an empty promise. Who is she to assume?

“No,” Anakin says firmly. “No more. We’re going home.”

It is impossible to fight him on this, so Ahsoka nods, pressing her face harder into his robes. Her weapons are somewhere behind her, waiting to be retrieved before she goes. The thought of searching around in the dark is vastly unappealing.

Yet his arms don’t loosen around her. She could argue that this is home, but—

“You ready?” Anakin asks. He almost hopes for her to say no, for it will give him a reason to stay longer, to hold her precious youth in his hands before it spills like water into desert sand. He wonders how much she has left—if he can afford to spill any more.

Ahsoka wipes at her face, her hand coming away wet. “Yes.”

Anakin takes her hand and pulls her to her feet, another moment to add to the hundreds before. He calls her sabers to his hands before she can, the quiet thump of metal hitting firm leather echoing quietly off the walls of the courtyard.

Ahsoka can only watch, a grey blankness filling the space of her mind previously occupied with some familiar form of devastating fear. She thinks, absentmindedly, that the hilts are so much smaller in his hands. It’s such a mindless, trivial realisation—hysteria offers to bubble up her throat, but she presses it down with her dread, lest Anakin think she is insane.

He must already think she is insane, for believing it will be any better if she tries again.

Ahsoka closes her eyes, still reeling from panic. Her arms hang slack by her sides. Anakin presses the weapons to her palms, shoto in her left and saber in her right.

The metal is cold. He closes her fingers over them, his gloves soft against her knuckles.

“I’m sorry,” Anakin says.

They stand there for a moment. Ahsoka breathes, relishing in the very fact that she can.

Someday the war will end. She knows it will end—it must end. And when it does, she and Anakin will scour the galaxy for slavers, and they’ll free every slave they can find. If she can spare one more padawan from what she’s seen, and if she can spare one more master from what Anakin now second guesses—then it all will have been worth it.

“I’m sorry, Ahsoka,” Anakin says again.

“You couldn’t have known,” she replies, for it is the answer he wants and needs to hear, and she, here and now, must convince herself that it is also the truth.

Helplessness is not an emotion to be treated lightly, yet it is an emotion easy to forget. Anakin realises this as he searches her face for a flicker which would betray her, an excuse to keep her close for one more night, and finds nothing.

“Are you alright?” Ahsoka asks with a little frown, ignoring the fact that she had been the one hyperventilating on the ground mere minutes ago.

“I—” Anakin clears his throat before his voice can break on him, rearranging his features into a less expressive mask. “Yeah. I am. Why are you asking me?” He nearly laughs in disbelief. “Are you?”

“I think I am.” A nonchalant tilt of her head, moonlight reflecting off the white stripes on her lekku. “You can decide.”

You’re not, Anakin thinks, but he doesn’t say a word. What good will it bring?

[hawks-supremacy]

Apprenticeship

Summary: You decided to start a two year apprenticeship for school while doing your classes online, but you never expected to find love in a funeral home.

Pairings: Matsukawa x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of death (it’s a funeral home there’s gonna be death) I think that’s all.

Genre: Fluff, no angst I promise.

Word Count: 2.5k

When your family had first said that they could see you being a mortician you laughed it off and didn’t think anything off it. Then you were looking at a list of future careers the guidance counselor handed you and under the M’s there it was staring you in the face: Mortician. When you asked her why that was on there she simply said that the list was printed from a test you took. A test that tells you what job suited you best.  

Now here you were two years later half way through schooling to get a mortuary science degree, looking for an apprenticeship. You had two options, apprentice at a funeral home in Tokyo where you were attending school or move back home to Miyagi and apprentice there while doing online school. The second option seemed much more tempting. So you packed your bags and moved back to Miyagi but found an apartment much to your parents' dismay.

You may have lived in Miyagi for your whole life but you never paid attention to where the funeral home was. After finally navigating your way through the streets, getting lost only twice, you arrived at your destination. As you entered the building you didn’t see anyone, you were 30 minutes late, you couldn’t expect them to wait forever. So you decided to wait and look around at some of the caskets displayed in the front. 

You started walking towards a black and red casket that had caught your eye when something had popped out of the dark blue and white one next to it. You screamed and fell to the ground knocking the wind out of you. As you were trying to catch your breath the person with brownish-pink hair who had jumped out at you quickly ran to your aid. “Shit I am so sorry. You were not who I was trying to scare.” You waved him off as you heard someone running towards the front.

Turning your head you saw a taller man with messy black hair probably a few years older than you. “Makki what the hell did you do?” Were the first words out of his mouth after accessing the scene. Thinking back he probably thought he’d need to do an impromptu funeral based on your scream. You uncovered your mouth to give him a small smile and wave. You stood up and dusted off your clothes while who you assumed was Makki explained the reason behind the horror movie scream he had heard. The unnamed man then turned to you as you picked your bag off the floor, “Sorry about him he’s a dumbass. What can I help you with?”

“Oh right uh I’m Y/n. The new apprentice? Sorry I’m late I got a little lost.” You apologized after finishing processing things. He raised his eyebrows in surprise before moving behind the desk, “I’m Matsukawa Issei, the idiot who scared you was Hanamaki Takahiro. He doesn’t work here, he doesn’t work anywhere actually.” Matsukawa said with a pointed look, “I don’t own the place but I do run it. The person who owns the place retired last year but he still comes in every once in a while.” You followed him around as he gave you a quick tour, his friend following you both. As you reached the front Matsukawa turned to look at you, “Any questions?”

While you didn’t have any it seemed that Hanamaki did, “Yeah hey, if you want to work in a funeral home why did you get so scared when I jumped out at you? Shouldn’t you be hard to scare?” You narrowed your eyes at him before you answered, “Sorry, but if I’m not mistaken corpse’s don’t jump out of their caskets.” He let out a “Fair enough.” before sitting down in one of the chairs, “Can we eat now? I’m hungry.” 

You turned around to face Matsukawa and saw him sitting at a desk looking through papers, “Did I interrupt your lunch? I’m sorry.” He looked up at you before looking at Hanamaki and back at you, “No I told you to come at this time after all. He just likes to show up whenever and demand things.” You heard Hanamaki let out a protest before being interrupted, “However, since he’s here anyway we can go eat. Do you want to come? I’ll but since he scared you.” You were about to answer when Hanamaki answered instead, “Are we still on that? Let it go, that was so long ago.” “It literally happened fifteen minutes ago what are you talking about?” Matsukawa retorted. They argued for a few more minutes while you watched like a tennis match before breaking it up, “Let’s just go eat! Yeah?” You nodded and started walking out of the door.

You were already at the corner when they ran out looking for you, “How do you know where to go if you got lost on the way here?” You gave Hanamaki a look of offence, “Yeah okay, I got lost coming to a place I’ve never been before. However, for your information I did grow up here so I know how to get to other places.” Matsukawa laughed at his friend getting told off by someone he barely knew before a look of dread replaced his features. 

“Mattsun, Makki! Hai Hai!” Matsukawa sighed as a familiar face swung an arm around his shoulders, “And who is this cutie?” You scoffed as you furrowed your brows, “In your dreams Oikawa.” Everyone looked at you in confusion, “Do I know you?” Oikawa asked. “Uhm no, however seeing your face reminds me that I know all of you. Anyway, where are we eating?” The boys were still confused but answered your question saying they were meeting some of the other old Seijoh players at a ramen shop. You nodded and listened to the rest of the guys catch up while you walked to your destination. Oikawa explained that he was visiting while he had a break in training.

Upon walking into the ramen shop you didn’t get far before hearing a familiar voice, “What the fuck are you doing here with them?” You whipped your head towards your voice giving yourself potential whiplash, “I don’t know, breathing? Fucking Existing? What? No, nice to see you Y/n it’s been a few years I missed you. Good to see you too Kentaro.” He rolled his eyes as he pulled you into a hug mumbling a good to see you. “Seriously though, what are you doing here?” He asked as he pulled away from the hug. “Well I was supposed to be starting my apprenticeship with Matsukawa, but instead I’m getting treated to lunch because Hanamaki decided to play zombie and give me a heart attack instead.” He glared at Hanamaki about to say something when you interfered, “Kentaro, I’m fine I swear.” 

Oikawa raised his hand like he was in school and you only gave him a questioning look, “Am I the only one that’s confused here?” Everyone else chimed in with a no and you sighed, “My name’s Kyotani Y/n. I’m Kentaro’s younger sister, that’s how I knew who you were.” After you answered a few questions like, what school did you go to and why didn’t they know about you, you guys finally sat down and ate. After eating and a little bit of small talk on your end you finished eating. You tried to pay your bill but before you could Matsukawa took yours and paid for it only shrugging in response to your glare. You were about to start walking about to the funeral home when Kentaro pulled Matsukawa aside. They talked for a bit before Kentaro walked over to you and pulled you into a hug saying “See you later.” 

The walk back was silent for a while before you decided to break it, “So what did he say? I’m assuming he threatened you for some reason or another.” Matsukawa laughed before answering, “Yeah a little bit, but that’s fine. Nothing I’m not used to. So why’d you recognise Oikawa and not me or Makki?” You sighed thinking of a way to put your answer, “Kentaro complained about him the most I guess? Plus he’s all I heard about in college and in high school. Didn’t matter if I didn’t go to the same school. I wasn’t really interested, I just knew that when I attended your guys’ games his name was the one I heard in the stands.” He hummed as he took in your answer. “Do I need to invest in some 7 inch platforms?” You asked suddenly. You laughed as he let out a “What?!” in response, “Well I mean you’re at least 6 feet tall right? I don’t want to have to go to a chiropractor every week from craning my neck to look at you.” He laughed at your explanation before wiping away fake tears, “No, we’ll be sitting most of the time so you shouldn’t have to look up that much.” 

It’s been a week of working at the funeral home and so far it’s just been paperwork. No one’s been dying, and while that’s a good thing, you need to practice more than just paperwork. You looked at Mattsun hopeful as he answered the phone. You were about to ask before he answered your unspoken question, “Yes you’ll get to plan a funeral.” You felt like celebrating but figured that would be insensitive to the person who just died and their family so you nodded instead. “I thought you’d be more excited than this, or do you enjoy filing paperwork with me all day?” You sighed and shrugged, “As much as I love sitting here doing nothing but writing the same information all day and spending time with you, I do need to learn other things as well.” He hummed in agreement and you went back to completing your homework for the week. You’d been working on it for a good ten minutes before you felt Mattsun walk up behind you. You continued working as he put one hand on the back of your chair and one hand on the desk so he could lean down and read over your shoulder. “Oh I remember doing this.” You felt goosebumps begin to form on the back of your neck as his breath hit the back of your exposed neck. “That answer is B not C.” He commented and pointed at the question. You hummed and reread the question, “Oh I guess it is, thanks.” You looked at him, you hadn’t realized just how close you were when you turned your head. You were both silent staring into each other's eyes as you were nose to nose. A knock on the doorframe broke you apart, Mattsun quickly straightened as he turned to look at the intruder. 

Makki stood there with a wide grin, “Sorry if I was interrupting anything, just wanted to drop by and see what was going on.” As he talked he moved from the door frame to Mattsun’s desk seat. “You didn’t interrupt anything, why are you here?” As Mattsun answered you felt a little sad hearing him say nothing was happening. Spending a week with Mattsun with nothing to do but sit there and file paperwork you got to know him. He was pretty funny as he told you stories about his work experiences. Come to think of it he wasn’t bad looking either. You never really got a chance to date in high school with your brother scaring everyone off. Not that you minded, you weren’t really into any of the guys in your school anyway. “Y/n? Are you listening?” Hearing your name you snapped out of your thoughts and answered with a “Hmm?” Makki laughed as Mattsun repeated his question asking if you wanted anything to eat, that they were ordering takeout. “Oh.” You said and told him what you wanted. 

As Mattsun left to go order the takeout Makki started his interrogation. “Do you like him?” You looked up from your homework, “Yeah? He’s my boss, it’d be awkward if I didn’t.” Makki let out an exasperated sigh, “No that’s not what I meant, do you like him like him?” You snorted, “What are we in middle school?” He narrowed his eyes and you coughed, “A little? Why am I telling you this? I barely know him, way too early to know if I wanna date him.” Makki shrugged as Mattsun came back in saying the food was going to be here soon.

It was a month later and you still couldn’t get what Makki had asked out of your head. Why did he ask in the first place? Was it because he came in at an awkward moment? Did Mattsun like you? Did you like Mattsun? You got to know him better since Makki had asked the question. If he had asked you today you’d probably say yes. However, you don’t know if you’d want to risk confessing to your boss. What if he didn’t like you and Makki was just asking so Mattsun could find a way to let you down gently. All this thinking was hurting your head, not to mention you had a test coming up. You could ace that in your sleep though, Matsukawa had been helping you with things you didn’t know as well and he was a pretty good teacher.

“Everything okay?” Mattsun asked as he set down the coffee he bought you down by your laptop. “Thank you, yeah just a test coming up. I think I’ll be fine though, you helped a lot.” He nodded in understanding before thinking for a moment, “If you pass I’ll take you out to celebrate.” You glanced up for a second before looking back at your homework, “Like out for drinks?” He hummed, “I was thinking more of like a date.” You started choking on the coffee you had been drinking before he started talking and he quickly got up and started rubbing your back, “We don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just really like you, I thought you liked me too but maybe I was reading it wrong.” You started shaking your head as you calmed down, “No! Oh my god no! I like you too! I just wasn’t expecting that! I would love to go out with you.” He laughed as he sat back down, “Thank god, that would’ve made you working here 10x more awkward than it needed to be. So it’s a date then.” You nodded, “It’s a date.” He smiled before continuing, “Only if you pass though, and I mean like high marks.” You sighed, “Only if I pass.”

You passed the test. Highest marks in the class.

[latenightcinephile]

#719: 'Hour of the Wolf', dir. Ingmar Bergman, 1968.

Ingmar Bergman: <makes Hour of the Wolf> Me: that's a trap. Me: <walks into trap>

According to people who have seen a lot more of Ingmar Bergman's filmography than I have, this is an interesting actor's piece, but not a very successful film overall. They cite the overall reliance on suspension of disbelief, and argue that if you have to actively tell your audience to put their critical thinking faculties on hold for the plot to be persuasive, then you haven't made a very good film and you shouldn't pretend your artifice is deliberate. One of the things I've always tried to avoid when writing about the films on the list is pretension. If I think a film isn't very good on its own merits, then I don't feel the need to defend its watchability. Something can be important without being good or fun, and I try not to pretend I know more than people who make a living discussing films just because I have a degree and can scroll to the sources at the bottom of a Wikipedia article.

All that being said, I think Hour of the Wolf is a trap Bergman has set for people who analyse films, and I think I can discuss the trap without falling into it myself. I think. Let's see.

The plot of Hour of the Wolf is pretty simple: A woman tells us the story of how her husband, an artist, disappeared. They moved together to an island owned by a wealthy couple who lived in a nearby castle. The artist Johan (Max von Sydow) is beset by nightmares about strange figures, and forces himself to stay up all night, even through the hour just before dawn, which is where the film's title comes from. The wife, Alma (Liv Ullmann) is visited one day by an old woman who knows where Johan keeps his diary, and she encourages Alma to read it. Reading the diary, Alma discovers that Johan is hallucinating the figures from his nightmares, and also his former lover, Veronica Vogler (Ingrid Thulin).

Johan and Alma are invited to the castle for dinner, along with other inhabitants of the island, who we've seen through flashbacks are the same people pestering Johan. Everyone is a big fan of Johan's work, and everyone knows his history with Veronica, which makes the whole dinner awkward bordering on eerie. They seem to view art as a commodity, and artists as figures to be humiliated as a kind of public service, but all in good fun. During their late-night discussions, Johan admits to Alma his previous traumas, which test her faith in her husband. They are invited to another dinner, and promised that Veronica will be there. Johan shoots Alma (fatally, he believes) and runs to the castle to be reunited, where he discovers that the guests are the nightmarish beings he feared. Nonetheless, he finds Veronica, but is unable to make love to her while the assorted spectres watch. Alma finds Johan in the swamps, where he is attacked by the monsters before disappearing. Back in the film's framing device, Alma asks if she was unable to protect Johan because she didn't love him enough, or if she loved him too much.

Before diving into the more meta analysis, I think it's worth saying that this film is really good, and that Bergman makes it compelling in an interesting way. Watching it (and especially the 2016 remaster) I thought that it could be summed up as 'crisp'. Bergman and his cinematographer, Sven Nykvist, use sparse settings and frame them from unusual angles that highlight textures. Everything is still and quiet, and it feels like you have a sense of how every object in this film feels. Because of that crispness and quietness, it becomes easy to share the fears and internal experiences of Alma and Johan, who are frequently filmed in such tight shots that they physically block the camera from having a full view. That silent claustrophobia is what makes this film so unsettling, although there aren't many points where that unsettlingness becomes outright horror.

A lot of the critics that disliked Hour of the Wolf weren't able to make that leap of belief that Bergman seemingly wants from the audience. With a director as renowned as Bergman, who frequently made heavily allegorical films, people were quick to read the film's content, searching for what was autobiographical in order to fit it into the larger pattern of his work. Critical analyses abound in which Johan is a stand-in for Bergman, in which the character is read through theories of psychoanalysis and sexuality; parallels are drawn with Mozart and E.T.A. Hoffmann, August Strindberg and Henry Fuseli. Johan's nightmares are drawn from dreams that Bergman acknowledged having, so it must be autobiographical; Bergman must be trying to express something about himself.

Okay. But if he is trying to express something about himself, let's step back to look at the film's plot, retold in broader strokes to make the overall picture clearer. An artist meets some people who are fans of his work, and who seem to know his history and behaviour better than his wife does. They oppress him to the point that he turns to violence to get rid of them - in fact, this is the one common denominator of all of Johan’s violence: people observe him too closely. All that changes when the fans offer to reunite him with his lost object of obsession. They all love her too, you see. It must be tempting to be rewarded by the people who know you best, but they never seem to want that for your sake, only for theirs.

Now imagine you've made a film about that, and fans of your work, who seem to know your history, try to tell something about you through it. They observe you and your work closely. They want to use it to figure out how you feel about your past. They like your work, but in the confines by which they understand it - as an allegory, as a commodity, and as a reflection of you.

This is why I think this film is a trap.

Now, if you follow the instructions Bergman lays out, you'll escape alive. Start with the opening credits, during which you can hear the film's crew setting up for a take. That's your first hint: this is a fiction; it's been carefully constructed to make you believe it's real. Enjoy Hour of the Wolf as a film and as a story. Bergman has drawn some elements from his own life, as all artists do, but don't let yourself be distracted by which things are real: Bergman has nightmares, but he's probably never killed anyone, and anyway, that's the whole point. This film spends a lot of time trying to make you decide whether the monsters are real or not. Ignore that. Assume they exist, because the film will eventually tell you. Did they exist beforehand and start haunting Johan, or did Johan will them into existence? Would they exist if Johan wasn't still obsessed with Veronica? Has Johan really done those awful things, or does he just say he has to try and drive Alma away?

Hour of the Wolf is just a story that ends in a swamp. Analysing it is a whole other swamp of its own.

[samwinchestersgf]

obsession (part one)

prompt: “oh my god! he’s obsessed with you!”

warnings: horror, gore, obsessive weirdo, protective sam. nothing worse than what’s in the show, but still unsettling.

pairing: sam x reader

note: any message y/n sends is in ‘’. her other messages are not.

“excuse me?” i clear my throat.

a tall man with smoldering eyes turns around and looks down at me. “hm?”

“this is so random, but could you give me a ride? i’m supposed to be meeting my boyfriend, and i’m really late, and my phone is dead, and i just-“

“sure. but, are you sure you should be getting in the car with a stranger.” he raises an eyebrow, questioning my sanity.

“i noticed the uber sticker on the back of your car.” i point out with a smile.

“y’know, i’m off the clock...” his voice trails off.

i clear my throat, “that’s fine. um, i was just wondering. have a nice day!”

i turn around and awkwardly shuffle awah as the thunder roars even louder. soon, the small mist coming down from the sky will turn into a heavy pour. sam is probably worried sick about me, and i just can’t do anything. there’s no pay phones or anything, and i don’t have is number memorized anyways.

“no!” he calls out to me as i turn around. “i mean, it’s okay, really. i don’t mind.”

the first thick raindrop splashes onto my head. ���thank you so much! i can pay you once we’re at his apartment. i just-“

“it’s fine. i’ve been looking for my random act of kindness for the day anyways.” he shrugs, opening the passengers door for me.

i duck in, clutching the knife in my pocket just in case. i might be making a stupid decision by getting in the car with this random man, but it’s my only choice. i may as well being insane in a safe manner.

“how far?” he asks, starting the car.

“only a few minutes. it’s 327 park way.” i respond.

he takes a left. “if you don’t mind me asking, what were you doing out there all alone? it’s, like, 11 pm.”

“he was supposed to meet me at this coffee shop. we, uh-“ i make up a lie on the spot. “we have a lot of college work to do. then, he called and said he wasn’t feeling well and that we should just cancel.”

“so, he left you stranded out there?” he asks.

i shake my head vigorously. “no, i decided to go over to take care of him, and i said i’d be there in a few minutes. well, my phone died so i couldn’t call an uber, so i kept walking. i still had a mile or two to walk, and then i saw you.”

“maybe next time don’t walk in the first place. uber straight where you’re supposed to go, especially at night.” he advises.

“noted.” i laugh.

“if i had a girlfriend, i wouldn’t let her go walking at night alone, even if it was just across the street. this city is full of creeps.” his tone gets a little more serious.

“he normally wouldn’t. he’s just been sick lately.” i assure him. “i’m glad you’re just a normal person though, not a creep.”

“i dunno, i pour my milk before my cereal.” he jokes.

i snort. “you are a creep! you’re a self-aware creep!”

“it’s just better that way.” he throws his hands up in defense, before returning them to the wheel.

“you think cereal is better soggy? god, get me out of the car.” i fake vomit.

“what other reason do people put milk in their cereal?!” he chuckles.

“it’s a flavor enhancer.” i roll my eyes.

“that’s why i add it first.” he points out.

“disgusting.” i huff in a joking manner as he parks the car.

“is this it?” he asks.

i nod. “yep.”

“this is phil’s motels.” he raises an eyebrow.

i rub the back of my neck. “uh, yeah.”

“you said you needed a ride to your boyfriend’s apartment.” he catches on to the lie.

look, i lied a lot. sam’s not my boyfriend, but i told him that he was so that he’d know i was going to see a man, so he wouldn’t try to follow me in. this isn’t his apartment, it’s a shabby motel because we’re on a hunt.

“ummm...” i hesitate.

he laughs. “did you make me drive you here for some shady hookup?”

“no! my boyfriend and i are just traveling.” i lie.

“why didn’t you just saw so?” he tilts his head.

“because of you’re reaction to the motel!” i laugh and smack his arm. “i didn’t want you to think i was a prostitute or something!”

he stares at me for a second. “i never caught your name.”

“it’s y/n. y/n l/n.” i cheesily shake his hand.

“i’m bryan. say, why don’t you let me give you my number so that you know who to call next time you need a ride.” he offers.

i show him my phone. “dead.”

“well, you give me your number, and i’ll next you so you can save my contact when your phone is charged.” he suggests.

“okay, sure.” i grab his phone and type my number in. i hand it back to him. “you know, it’s raining really hard. why don’t you come in and let me make you a coffee while the rain settles?”

“i dunno. maybe your boyfriend wouldn’t-“

i interrupt. “oh, he’s harmless. seriously, let me return the favor.”

“okay, okay.” he agrees, taking his key out of the ignition.

i walk him up to the door, and pull my key from my pocket. i wiggle it into the cheap motel lock and finally get it open. when we get in, i slip my wet shoes and coat on. he keeps his on.

“sam?” i call out.

he comes rushing over from the side room. “holy shit, y/n! i was worried about you.”

“i’m okay, i’m sorry. i’ll explain later.” i frown.

“who are you?” he asks, looking at bryan.

“babe,” i emphasize, hoping he’ll catch on and play along. “this is bryan. he gave me a ride over so i offered him inside for a coffee.”

“um, alright. thanks for getting my girlfriend home safely, bryan.” he shakes his hand.

i walk over to the coffee pot, which is conveniently still hot, and pour some into a mug. he clears his throat.

“actually, um, i think i’ll go.” he says awkwardly.

i turn around and catch sam giving him the death glare. i place the mug on the counter. “are you sure? i promise he doesn’t bite.”

i nudge sam in the shoulder, and he shrugs me off. then, he wraps his arm around my waist, playing into the role. he changes his tone, “the storm is awfully bad out there, bryan.”

“no, um, it’s okay. i have somewhere to be. take care.” he rushes out the door.

i turn to sam. “you’re such an ass.”

“what?” he asks innocently, drinking from the fresh mug of coffee.

“you scared him off!” i laugh.

“he’s a creep, y/n. he was looking at you, and...” his voice trails off.

“and what?” i roll my eyes.

“it was creepy!” he finishes.

“he didn’t have bad intentions, never did. he knew, well, er, thought from the start that you were my boyfriend and still wanted to help me.” i inform him.

sam scoffs. “really? did he give you his number?”

“he tried. my phone is dead, that’s part of the reason i needed a ride.” i answer, shrugging.

“so, there was no number exchanging?” he raises an eyebrow.

“well-“

“y/n! you gave him your number?!” he throws his hands up exasperatedly.

“look, he was nice, okay? he helped me, and i’m still alive!” i argue.

“guys don’t normally kill girls that they’re in love with.” he raises his voice.

“he is not in love with me. we were in the car for 10 minutes tops.” i groan.

he pinches his nose. “i’m telling you, it’s a guy thing. we can just tell.”

“you can’t be in love with someone you don’t know.” i cross my arms.

“tell him that.” he answers smugly.

“you are so weird! he probably won’t even text me.” i tell him.

“plug your phone in. there’s probably already a text.” he hypothesizes.

i do as he says, plugging my phone in. it makes a minute to reboot, and we both sit in silence watching it. once it turns on, i connect to my data, and sure enough, there’s a text.

hey, it’s bryan. i sure hope you didn’t give me a fake number lol

i roll my eyes, “that doesn’t mean anything.”

“it means everything.” he testifies.

i throw my hands up. “you know what, who cares?! maybe he does like me. is there a problem with that?”

“no problem.” he answers quickly. “just super weird.”

i ignore him and text bryan back.

‘haha, no. this is my real number.’

he replies almost instantly.

good, good.

is your boyfriend mad?

i laugh.

‘he’s fine.’

i sit down the phone. “he’s not that weird, sam.”

————————————————

i shiver in my coat. my fingers twirl around the loose strings in my pockets. i really need a new coat, especially if sam and i are gonna keep working cases in chicago in the middle of winter.

i order my coffee at the counter, thanking the barista as i grab it. my small hands are instantly warmed up, and i take a much needed deep breath. i notice how i shake as i do so. is it from the nerves or the cold? i guess i’ll never know.

my phone buzzes in my pocket. it’s sam texting me. unknowingly, i smile and take a seat while texting him back.

everything okay?

‘everything’s great. i got coffee.’

iced?

‘i’m not a maniac. it’s like, 4 degrees out here.’

i sit my phone on the table and take another sip of my coffee.

stay warm, and please don’t get into random guys’ cars.

i roll my eyes and reply. ‘okay, dad’

just looking out for, that’s all.

what coffee shop are you at? i have a minute. i can meet you.

i pick my phone up to reply, but i get distracted by a tap on my shoulder. i turn around, and give my eyes a second to adjust to the person right behind me.

“bryan?” i ask.

“haha, yep. is this seat taken?” he asks, gesturing to the seat in front of me.

“um, no.” i shake my head.

my phone buzzes again. hello? did you fall off the face of the earth?

“you look super cold.” he points out.

i smile meekly. “can you blame me? it’s like, 4 degrees outside.”

“it’s in the 30s, nowhere near as cold as it normally gets.” he chuckles. “you must be from somewhere warm.”

did you get into a stranger’s car again? :/

“i’m not really from anywhere,” i explain. i pick up my phone.

‘haha, super funny.’

“i’m sorry, am i bothering you?” he tilts his head.

i shake my head. “sorry, no. my boyfriend is just blowing up my phone.”

“is he meeting you?” bryan asks.

“no, he’s busy doing stuff.” i respond.

seriously, where are you?

i begin responding, ‘joe’s cof’ but i’m interrupted again before i can send the message.

“stuff?” he raises an eyebrow.

y/n please answer your phone

“yeah, he’s a busy guy.” i smile and nod.

“too busy to meet his girlfriend for coffee?” he takes a slight dig at sam.

you’re worrying me

can you just answer

y/n what the hell answer the phone

“he was going to try. but, yeah, too busy at the moment.” i laugh his insult off.

“you should come back to my place with me! i’ve got the heat on. it’s just down the road.” he suggests.

my phone vibrates on the table. i pick it up and give bryan a sorry look. “that’s him.”

“oh.” he blinks.

“maybe another time. bye, bryan.” i wave and pick up my coffee, and then answer my phone. “hey, baby.”

“can you seriously not answer a text? i was worried about you.” he sounds frantic, but not mad.

i walk out the door of the coffee shop. “i’m sorry. that bryan guy from yesterday was talking to me.”

“talking as in, like, he was actually there?” sam asks.

“yes, he was. don’t start.” i warn him.

“i won’t. can you come to the address i texted you? it’s just a simple ghost case and it’ll be really good to teach you.” he questions.

“yes, i’ll be there.” i agree.

“please don’t ride with bryan.” he emphasizes the word with extra venom.

i scoff, “i won’t.”

79 christopher road.

i show up at the house, and sam is standing outside waiting for me. he smiles, probably because bryan is no where in sight and briefs me about the case. apparently, these people buried their daughter in the backyard, and now she’s haunting them. they went out of town, so its a simple salt and burn.

“now, sometimes when you burn these things, they try to stop you.” he tells me. “so, while i’m doing this, your job is to look out and protect me, okay?”

“right, got it.” i nod as he gives me an iron bar.

it’s already dug up. he coats the body in salt. i don’t watch. then, he drops a match and the body bursts up in flames. it smells very bad.

“sam!” i exclaim as i see an apparition.

“hit it!” he shouts.

i swing the iron rod and it goes fully through the ghost, causing her to disappear. the adrenaline is coursing through my body. i can hear my heart beating so fast that it might jump out of my chest.

“she’ll come back.” he warns.

i swing the rod again, causing her to disappear once more. “she’s angry.”

“we’re killing her. of course she’s angry.” he laughs.

sam just watches as she appears again. he trusts me, and knows what i’m capable of. he knows when he needs to step in, and when i can handle it. right now, he knows i’m able to handle it.

she appears for the third time. i groan and get ready to swing, but she stops mid ‘step’ and bursts into flames. i jump back and watch as she burns and evaporates.

“and, that’s it.” he smiles, high-giving me. “you did really well.”

“this isn’t really a celebration moment, but, just know, i’m excited.” i point out.

he snorts. “right. grab a shovel.”

after reburying the body and leaving the premise as if nothing happened, sam and i take his car back to the motel. my phone buzzes in the car.

did you get where you’re going safely?

‘yeah. i’m good.’

“who are you texting?” sam asks.

“bryan.”

“bryan sure texts you a lot for someone who thinks you have a boyfriend.” he scoffs.

“he’s friendly.” i dismiss him.

that’s good. i’m glad you’re safe.

“what’s he saying?” sam asks.

“wow. in my business, much?” i roll my eyes.

“you’re gonna tell me either way.” he laughs.

i cross my arms. “he was just making sure i got to you safely.”

“oh god!” sam exclaims. “he’s so obsessed with you!”

“he is not!”

“if a guy is making sure you’re safe all the time, it’s because he loves you.” he explains.

“you’re reading too much into it.” i counter.

“i just think it’s weird that he loves you, when to him, you have a boyfriend.” he pushes further.

“last time i checked, you aren’t my actual boyfriend.” i sigh exasperatedly. “so, unless you are, you can’t tell me who i can and can’t text.”

okay, maybe i do wish sam were my actual boyfriend. he’s a sweet guy, and definitely not unattractive. i like him a lot. but, it’s obviously not reciprocated.

‘thank you.’

———————————————

another case, same town, and the same coffee shop. it’s the same temperature, too, so i’m basically freezing down to my bones. i get the same coffee order and text sam.

‘do you think i’ll be able to help you today?’

‘or am i gonna have to be lonely again?’

sorry

this case is kinda extreme.

i’ll try to finish quickly so we can hang out.

‘yes please.’

“why, hey stranger.” someone calls out to me. i look up, and bryan is sitting in front of me.

“hey bryan.” i wave. “are you stalking me?”

he furrows his eyebrows. “this is a very common coffee shop.”

“i know, i-“

“i’m not some kind of weirdo, you know. i’m just a nice guy who offered you a ride and is trying to be friendly.” he defends himself. “i’m also a local here, so i’ve been getting coffee from here for a long time.”

“i’m sorry. i was joking.” i apologize awkwardly.

“oh.” he clears his throat.

“yea.” i nod.

“my bad. are you busy today?” he asks.

“uh, no, actually. my boyfriend’s busy all day so i’m kind of just.. alone.” i explain.

“come to my place!” he suggests.

i sigh, “ummm...”

“c’mon. i thought we already established i wasn’t some weirdo.” he jokes.

“fine, fine.” i laugh.

i hop into the familiar passenger seat. we listen to the radio on the way to his place. i sing along, which he finds funny. i catch him staring at me every now and then. he even missed a green light or two.

my hunter’s instincts go off. sam has trained me to be careful around these kinds of people. he’s obviously not a ghost. if he’s a werewolf, i’m not in any immediate danger because it’s not a full moon. so, maybe he’s a vampire and he’s luring me back to his house to kill me inconspicuously.

we walk into his house. it’s pretty nice. the hardwood floors are almost spotless, and the furniture shows no signs of any stains. i clutch the knife in my pocket.

“make yourself at home. we can watch a movie or something.” he suggests.

“um, yeah. of course.” i nod.

he looks puzzled. “are you nervous or something?”

“i-“

“y/n, we’ve already been over this. i’m not some psychopath that kills people.” he sighs.

“i know, i know.” i deflect. “i think i just had too much coffee.”

“jittery?” he asks.

“yeah.”

my heart beats way too fast. i feel like it’s going to burst out of my chest. it’s not the good type of adrenaline that i enjoy when i’m hunting. it’s not the helpful kind of adrenaline that has saved my life so many times. it’s adrenaline based off pure fear.

with my defeaning heartbeat echoing in my ears, i decide to bite the police. i slice my palm with the knife in my pocket and then bring it out. bryan turns around with a look of concern.

“i, uh, could i have a bandaid or something?” i ask.

“how did you cut your hand?” he asks, confused.

“i have a pocket knife in my pocket.” i half-lie. its not a pocket knife, but...

“you’re so clumsy. follow me.” he beckons.

i follow him into the bathroom. he opens the cabinet and hands me the biggest bandaid i’ve ever seen, with a slight smile on his face. i observe his smile. there’s no fangs in sight. he’s just a normal guy.

“thanks.” i smile back, bandaging myself up.

my phone rings and i pick up. “hello?”

“hey. my case is over. meet me back at the motel?” sam’s voice stings my ears. i miss him.

“of course! yea, i’ll be right there.” i smile.

“okay, bye. stay safe.” i can hear the smile in his voice.

i hang up the phone and turn toward bryan. “i’m sorry to cut this short, i-“

“ditching me to go hang out with your boyfriend again, huh?” he asks bitterly.

“uh, yea. sorry.” i offer him a faux smile.

“at least let me drive you back,” he offers. he grabs his keys off the counter and jingles them.

“actually, i think i’ll just get a cab. thanks for the offer.” i wave at him and grab my coat from the front door.

i feel uneasy. i walk down the street as fast as i can without looking suspicious. now, i realize the severity of the situation. he might not be a creep, but if he is, i am very much in danger.

he has my phone number; he knows where i’m sleeping; he knows i’m alone most of the day; he knows everything and i’ve known him for two days.

but, that’s not anything to worry about. bryan is just a normal guy, right?

right?

——————————————

if you enjoyed, feel free to reblog or comment or something! stay on the lookout for the final part. thanks for reading :)

[idontblushsrry]

Inuyasha Characters As Roomates

In honor of yashahime’s release i’ve decided to post this for no real reason.Can you tell who my bias is lmao. Lmk if I should do a Part 2 with the people I missed. Also I apologize I haven’t updated in like a year I have a post addressing this coming up soon. Thank you for your continued support despite the fact that I’ve been updating infrequently, I really appreciate it. Without further ado:

Warnings: Some swear words oop

Word Count: 1632

Inuyasha

You want Inuyasha as your roommate???Chile anyways...

No but fr tho in general Inuyasha isn’t an awful roommate, he pays his bills on time(ususally), doesn’t make too big of a mess but that’s just because he owns like 3 things and 2 outfits.

No, the real problem with Inuyasha is that he is LOUD

You walk outside to throw the trash away and he’s in his room screaming about a video game or something and the WHOLE neighborhood can hear him. 

People pokin they head out in concern and everything

Another time he was watching a horror movie and you guess the characters did something stupid because you hear a scream from the character and then Inuyasha screaming “WHAT THE FUCK, WHY WOULD YOU GO THAT WAY DUMBASS! THAT’S WHY YOU’RE DEAD NOW!”

Shit woke you up out of your sleep

After that incident you knew you’d have to ask him to be a bit more considerate of your eardrums.

So, you ask him to quiet down and he pouts like a child and huffs and puffs.

He does quiet down tho...for about 2 minutes until he stubs his toe on the end of the couch

God bless you and your patience but god bless his girlfriend Kagome

She’s a saint

If it were up to Inuyasha your groceries would consist of a cabinet of ramen like the man has the budget for ramen and paying his share of he bills why would he spend money on things like fruit???

This is where Kagome comes in, she comes by pretty regularly and she brings food or groceries because she of all people knows how terrible Inuyasha’s shopping habits are.

Bless her soul truly and every time she does this you thank her lmaoo

Inuyasha eventually does move out with Kagome but he does apologize for being loud before he leaves, you aren’t sure if he did that on his own or if Kagome made him do that

Kagome

She’s so sweet

Fair share of chores, groceries, she cooks for yall sometimes, truly a saint

Only 2 problems:

Ms. Girl has no moneyyy

Poor Kagome, she always tries to pay her bills on time but between trying to feed Inuyasha, helping out her family, and school the paycheck only spreads so thin(She does eventually quit school to start working more but)

Nothing wrong with this but you do end up having to cover for her sometimes.

She of course thank you and you don’t usually mind and your routine was functional for you two, until you meet problem number 2 

The loudest mf on the planet Earth, her boyfriend, Inuyasha

One day you’re in he kitchen grabbing something to eat and you hear pounding on the door like the police showed up.

You proceed cautiously because...what the fuck and you almost reach the door before you hear 

“I’ll get it!”

You’ve never seen Kagome run faster

She opens the door and you see this 5′5 mf who was banging on the door like he paid the bills

Inuyasha just has rbf but you don't know that so you think he’s making faces at you

Immediately you have a problem with him

“Hey Kagome, who’s this?”

She looks between you two before immediately rushing to introduce you to each other

“Oh, I forgot my purse be right back guys.”, Kagome left not knowing that yall were about 2 seconds from fighting

You didn’t like Inuyasha for banging on the door and glaring and he didn’t like you for glaring at him

After that you just avoided talking to inuyasha for the sake of keeping the peace

When he came over you exited stage left 

Eventually Kagome does move out with Inuyasha and she asks why you and Iuyasha had never spoken to each other

“Are you kidding me the first day we met he was already glaring at me?!”

“Ohhh, that’s just his face, he’s really sweet promise :D”

You doubted that

You liked Kagome as a roommate but you were glad she was moving out so you could find someone who could pay the bills on time.

Sango

She a baddie ngl

Aside from that, Sango is the perfect roommate

However, I hope you aren’t allergic to cats or Miroku because they’re pretty much a package deal

Also hopefully you don’t hate children because she does have Kohaku to worry about

But she makes pretty good money at her job so expenses aren’t a issue

She also isn’t home too often between her job, taking care of Kohaku and Kirara, and her relationship

She ends up spending more and more time at Miroku’s place anyways

Sango finally moves in with Miroku when she gets pregnant, yall still keep in touch tho because you’ve become good friends

And thus you say goodbye to the best roommate to ever grace this Earth lmao

Miroku

Miroku is the shortest lasting roommate on this list

Mans is a little creeper pervert and that shit gets annoying after a while

You’ll be walking out the shower and Miroku’s standing there like “hey lil mama lemme whisper in ya ear”

Needless to say you smacked the taste outta his mouth and he stopped with that real quick

He stops but you’re surprised when you see Sango come over 

Your hand starts itching with the urge to slap him again...

You meet Sango and what she sees in him is... baffling, scientists to this day still don’t understand 

Baby girl, you’re Sango do better, self love

Anyways, Miroku moves out eventually and he takes his nasty ass ways with him

Later you find out that Sango moved in with him and sje’s gon have a baby by him

But you know that’s none of your business 

Koga

If you thought Inuyasha was loud...

Inuyasha doesn’t have any friends, Koga has a wolf pack...

Parties all the time good luck homie

If you were tryna study, sleep, do work, etc. best wishes lmao

You come home and mans got 2 random people over like how ya doin   O-O

“Hello”

“Where’s Koga?”

They point to the kitchen and you head here ready to just “talk” with Koga

He turns around and gives you the cutest smile known to man and you immediately lose your will to argue

Can’t argue with a man that beautiful sorry...

Anyways besides being loud af, Koga is HYPER

Mans is up at 5 am knocking on your door like “hey you wanna jog to the gym”

“No Koga, goodnight”

‘No problem, it’s the morning btw!”

He’s actually a decent roommate and he moves into a bigger house with his friends and calls it the ‘pack house’

He actually invites you to come move in w him and his buddies 

You tell him you’ll think about it

Sesshomaru

The king of “I’m better than you”

He has his life so well together and you’ve gotta give him props

Mans is basically Caspar the Friendly Ghost of roommates 

Does he actually live here? the lights stay on and his name is on the deed so... I guess

Seriously tho, Sesshomaru doesn’t need a roommate but he does need someone to mind Rin

You might ask, what about Jaken, Jaken is busy (following Sesshomaru) or so he claims

Sesshomaru isn’t too bad honestly he covers the majority of the expenses in exchange for you watching Rin and feeding Ah-Un

So you’re basically Rin’s stay at home nanny

But you don’t mind because she is a SWEETHEART

Ah-Un isn’t too bad, just feed 2 lizards

(Although depending on who you are feeding them bugs might be your worst nightmare)

Jaken and you buttheads all the time, it’s almost comical

The times you interact with him mainly consist of you telling him to leave Rin alone or him telling you something Sesshomaru said

Speaking of Sesshomaru you don’t see him often and the only times you hear from him are in the form of notes he leaves around the house to the degree of ‘I fed Ah-Un this morning’ or ‘Make sure Rin takes her vitamins’ 

The other times you “hear” from him are when Jaken comes by saying things like ‘Lord Sesshomaru has requested that you prepare Rin to go out’

And for a while you were like who tf does he think he is because like yea he pays most of the rent but like he isn’t paying you for this so why does he think he can order you around indirectly

The first time you see Sesshomaru, it’s late and Rin’s been asleep for hours.

You walked into the kitchen and didn’t bother with turning the lights on but then you heard the smallest shuffle and a groan

And the moonlight comes through the window at the perfect angle and it reflects so beautifully off his silver hair

He turs some and you see his face and immediately take back all the times you’ve cussed him out mentally

And the you realize you’re in your pajamas staring at this man you’ve never met before that’s sleeping on the couch. For all you know he could be some random guy who broke in

He looks so peaceful that you loathe to disturb it but you poke at him w a stick and he groans out something to the tune of “Go away Jaken”

“I’m not Jaken”

He immediately sat up and stared at you like he was trying to figure out who you were in his head for a moment 

“Don’t you want to sleep in your room?” you asked him. He stood up and begun to walk towards his room in response 

You just watched him walk away but before he turned the corner into the hallway you swear you heard him say “You should get some sleep too.”