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mrsbuckybarnes1917 · 1 year ago

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FINDING YOU Chapter 4

Summary: You're in a relationship with Steve Rogers, but his best friend just always seems to be around!

Word Count: 4.1K

Warnings: angst

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 4

The murky morning light barely permeated the drawn curtains as your eyes opened to your phone alarm. Steve's place was empty beside you, he had gone for his morning run and let you sleep in. You were glad, it had been a late night and you were struggling to get up as it was. The sound of wind and rain pounded on the glass and a chill crept through your spine as you eventually threw back the covers. You sighed, it looked like it was going to be a rather gloomy day.

Steve hadn't made it home before you needed to leave and Bucky was nowhere to be seen. A pang of loneliness stabbed your heart and you tried to shake off the ridiculous feeling. You had no reason to feel that way, you had a wonderful boyfriend who loved you and a secondhand best friend who continued to keep you at arm's length, but had a strangely comforting presence in your life. So you shook off the insecurities and set up the coffeepot for them to use when they got home.

The morning seemed to plod along as a series of mundane lessons, the kids in your classes seemed just as apathetic as you felt that morning. So instead of micromanaging their activities, you let them run wild with their training. At least you had lunch with May to look forward to, her pragmatic approach to life would shake you out of the Monday slump you were in.

You were imagining just how she'd roll her eyes and glare at you until you had forgotten about your problems. Head in the clouds you almost ran face first into Agent May.

"Hey!" you smiled at your friend and colleague.

"Come," she turned on her heel and marched off in the opposite direction from where you'd come.

You sighed. This wasn't going to be good.

"Where're we going?" you asked. "May?"

Melinda May ignored you, and kept walking. And like the good agent you were, you followed orders. She led you to her car and got in.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?" you asked, sliding into the passenger seat.

She started the ignition and pulled out of the car park.

"May, you're scaring me. What is going on?" You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, the anxiety bubbling up, just waiting to boil over as you demanded an answer.

You studied May's impassive features, watching her open and close her mouth a few times, trying to find the words. "There was an… incident."

"What kind of incident?" You felt exasperated by her lack of clarity.

"We found a time jumper."

"Ooo…kay? And how exactly does this affect me?"

"It's Peggy Carter."

May's words rang in your ear like an exploded bomb. It felt like your whole world had slowed down, your heart sounded louder than you'd ever heard it, your mouth went dry and you couldn't focus on the road in front of you.

You hardly registered May calling your name or the short lived hand on your shoulder. The transference of your emotions from you made her withdraw sharply.

Thoughts whirled around your brain like a tornado. How did this happen? Why did it happen? Why was she here? Was there another end of the world catastrophe that needed to be dealt with? In the end, none of those questions mattered. You knew one thing was certain, you'd just lost the man you loved.

You heard your name again.

"Yeah?" you turned to face May, eyes taking in your familiar surroundings. She had pulled up outside your apartment building. "Why are we here?

"Peggy is asking for him," she said, softly.

"So you brought me here because…?"

"I thought you should tell him."

You scoffed. "Gee, thanks. What do you expect me to do? Go and tell him that the love of his life is back and that he can have her?" You sounded slightly hysterical and tears had filled your eyes.

May's stoic expression remained unchanged, but her eyes betrayed her sympathy.

"I assume he is upstairs?"

"Yeah," you sighed.

Reluctantly you climbed out of the SUV and trudged up the stairs to your second floor apartment. You paused at the door, steeling yourself to the inevitable conversation once you'd entered. The key slid in and turned with ease and the door swung open without you even trying.

"Steve?"

"Ace? What're you doing home?"

You opened your mouth to answer but no sound came out. As soon as you told him everything would change, was it wrong of you to cling on to those last fleeting moments of happiness? You walked over to where Steve was washing dishes.

The urge to break down and let him hold you was overwhelming. The blonde had the warmest, most comforting embrace and you wanted nothing more to be consoled by the one person who was about to break your heart.

"Ace?" Steve's look was concerned.

"Yeah?" You pushed back the tears.

"Everything OK?"

"Yeah." You made a show of taking off your jacket and putting it on a chair so you could hide your face. It was annoying how easily he could read your emotions.

"Give me a minute, I'm almost done with this."

You couldn't wait, you didn't want to. It was much easier to wrap your arms around his waist and bury your face between his shoulder blades. So you did just that. The heat he emanated, his strong steadfast sturdiness is what you clung to.

Steve dried his hands and wrapped his fingers around your wrists. Gently he pried your finger apart and turned around to face you.

"Talk to me Ace, why are you home in the middle of the day?"

You shrugged, "I wanted to see you?"

"Now why don't I believe that?"

"OK, but I need you to do one thing before I tell you."

"Ace, what is it?" Concern was etched across his face.

"I just need one thing from you first."

"What do you want?"

"Kiss me," you whispered.

"What?" Steve was astounded by your request.

"Kiss me, please?" You wished you didn't sound so desperate.

He complied with your request, leaning down he placed a quick peck on your lips.

"No, Steve. Kiss me like you mean it."

"I always mean it, Ace."

"Then show me."

Steve wanted to demand a reason for your behavior from you but he knew you could be just as stubborn as he was. It was easier to give you what you wanted. Not that it was a difficult request.

He bent forwards again, locking his lips with yours and you closed your eyes to take in every sensation, committing it to memory; the pressure, their texture, how soft they felt against yours. The eternity you wanted to be lost in was over in mere seconds. Steve’s hands lingered on your face, his thumbs caressed your cheeks for a little longer, leaving you with a gentle forehead kiss.

“Ace?”

You held his hands to your face, hoping he would never let go.

“Hey, talk to me,” his voice was low, as though he was talking to a scared animal.

That’s how you felt, skittish and ready to run with the slightest movement. Instead you took a deep breath and broke away from the perfect bubble you’d wrapped yourself in. You took his hands from your face and led Steve to the couch.

“Let’s sit for a bit.”

Steve sat beside you, your knees touching, your hands wrapped around his. He watched you expectantly.

“Steve… you remember how you were able to time travel?”

Steve nodded and you heard yourself continue to speak, almost like you were watching someone else.

“Well that’s not the only method of time travel. We’ve had someone who has traveled here from the past. Someone you know.”

Steve frowned quizzically at you.

“Peggy.” Your voice was barely audible.

It was slow, but you could feel him pulling his hands from yours. Your doubts, your fears, your worries, every single one of them had been confirmed at that moment.

“Are you sure?” The hope in his voice felt like a knife through your heart.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “May told me.”

“Where is she?”

“S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters.”

Steve stood up, he looked like a deer in headlights, not knowing what to do next. He was looking at you but you knew he didn’t see you.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“May's waiting in the car.” You heard yourself say the words, all the while a voice inside you was telling you to shut the hell up. Instead you put a hand on his back and guided him to the front door. “Let’s go.”

The car ride to the new S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters was deadly silent. It wasn't that you were a stranger to silence, you'd spent enough quiet time with both people in the car in the past, but today was different. May was driving, her grip on the steering wheel was more tense than usual and you knew her empath powers could sense both your emotions and Steve's.

You cast your eyes across to the side mirror where you could see Steve's reflection in the back seat. He was staring out of his window and though his eyes were open, he looked like he was lost so far in his thoughts that you'd never find him again. Steve had always been a pensive soul and there had been many occasions where he'd float away to a place you couldn't follow.

What was he feeling? Steve had always kept his cards close to his chest but you'd thought he had let some of his guard down around you in the last year. But the man who sat behind you was much more like the closed off person you'd met all those months ago. You'd spent so much time peeling back the layers of thick skin, coaxing him out of the shell he'd built around him, only for the barriers to go back up in mere moments.

You tried to put yourself in his shoes and exercise some of that empathy you were supposed to have. What would it be like to have someone you'd loved in the past come back to the present? Someone who had been ripped away from you, someone you'd never stopped loving. The feeling of tightness in your chest worsened. Empathy didn't feel like a helpful skill to utilize at this moment in time. You looked back at Steve in the mirror, wanting to wrap your arms around him and hold him closely until the anguish left his beautiful features.

This line of thought got you wondering about Peggy Carter. She was the founder of the organization you had worked for, she’d accomplished so many incredible things and had done so at a time where women got even less respect than they do in the present. You hated yourself for comparing your own achievements to that of another woman, but the overwhelming feeling of inadequacy was crushing. In your heart of hearts, you knew that your relationship was over but you were looking for a way for it all to hurt less. What chance did you have against the legendary Agent Carter?

Directing your resentment at Peggy would be the simplest solution, but the logical part of your brain strongly advocated her innocence. You wanted to hate her, the person you had held in such high regard, almost worshiped prior to this day. Did you dare fight for him? You’d heard the tales of their romance and you knew he still kept an old compass with her photograph in the cover. You’d found it once at the back of his sock drawer. How could you even compete? He had previously confessed that the only reason he had stayed with S.H.I.E.L.D. was because of her association with it.

Did you know him as well as you thought you did? Steve was a man of few words, but what he lacked in language use, he often made up for with small acts of service. One of your favorite things that he would often do, without you even realizing when he had done it, was fill your car with gas. It was never empty! He’d make small sketches and leave them on your bedside table for you to find when you woke up, or would slip them in your bag for you to find at work. They were often accompanied by a quote or poem which warmed your heart and brought a smile to your face. It was often little things which made you happiest and to you it counted more than larger romantic gestures which were few and far between. He made you feel comfortable in a way that no one else had and you thought you were special to him.

Sam had often regaled you with tales of their old exploits, saving Bucky from his HYDRA tormentors, the feud over the Sokovia Accords and so many others. You recalled a fond memory of you, Steve and Bucky visiting him in Delacroix, where you’d ended up spending most of your time helping him fix the family’s fishing boat and it almost made you smile. Steve gave his time often and freely to people he cared about. But he did the same for strangers too. He was willing to lay down his life for people he barely knew or had never met. Did that lessen his feelings for you? In the past you would have said no, but the crippling anxiety you sometimes felt was rearing its ugly head.

The emotions and thoughts swirled around inside you, threatening to erupt like a volcano, waiting to leave disaster in their wake. Just when you thought you couldn’t cope with sitting in the SUV any longer and May pulled up in front of your destination. Every movement you made after that felt like you were submerged under water, every step you craved oxygen, but wave after wave pushed you further down. You tried to claw your way to the surface, but you were met with paralyzing resistance, your anguish weighing you down like an anchor, suffocating your very essence. You watched the events unfold through the lenses of frosted glass; entering the building, watching Peggy run towards him, the way he wrapped his arms around her. He didn’t look away, he didn’t look back.

It was excruciating and yet you watched. You watched until you couldn’t. Then you waited. What if he needed you?

At the end of the day, May took your arm and guided you out of the facility. She didn’t drive you home, instead she drove to her house. You’d often suggested that the two of you should live together after you’d left S.H.I.E.L.D. but May had vetoed the idea with a look of pure disgust. But if you’d never moved into your apartment, you’d never have met Steve.

“Do you need help?” you asked. Standing nervously at the breakfast bar watching May move around the kitchen.

“Yeah, make dinner.” She handed you a knife and you standing alone in the kitchen.

One skill that May had never mastered was the art of cooking. You were happy to start slicing and dicing vegetables, trying not to let the knife accidently take off your finger tip as you vehemently attacked the innocent onions. You’d reached the stage of throwing food into hot oil when May returned, with a ridiculously large glass of your favorite wine.

“Wine, really?”

“What were you expecting?”

“To be honest, a sparring session.”

“Easily arranged. But no physical contact, I’m not in the mood to deal with your emotions today.”

“That makes two of us.”

“You’d prefer I get drunk and you get high from that?”

“You remember that alcohol is a depressant, miss M.D?” she said dryly.

You glared at your friend before taking an unnecessarily large mouthful of wine. Even though May had little time for comforting others, she cared deeply for you, something you had once doubted. You were very grateful for her friendship and the support she was currently giving you. It was the small act of kindness which tipped you over the edge. Tears welled up in your eyes, spilling over drop by drop.

“What do you think he's going to do?” you whispered, your lip quivering dangerously.

“Does it matter what I think?”

“He isn’t going to stay with me.”

“He doesn’t deserve you.”

“You think Captain America isn’t good enough for me?” you asked skeptically.

“No.”

“Is anyone?”

May shrugged.

“But I want him,” you sniffled.

Even as the words left your mouth you felt pathetic and desperate. He had never stopped loving her. The voice in your head scolded you for ignoring the fact that you were the one he had settled with. It was your fault for wanting to be special.

Your mind wandered back to the weekend you’d spent with Steve and the baseball game you’d taken him to. It was one of your best memories with him. The joy on his face throughout the game had warmed your heart. You didn’t know a thing about baseball, nor did you care to and it held not a single iota of interest for you. But just because you didn’t understand it or find it interesting, you understood why people could be passionate about a sport. That passion was one of the reasons you’d fell in love with Steve when you’d met him.

That was when you felt like Steve had really opened himself to you. It wasn’t the sex, it wasn’t the words he had used, it wasn’t the way he had said ‘I love you’. It had been the moment he had let himself be vulnerable with you. Steve didn’t talk about his fears to anyone, except maybe Bucky. He was a very reserved individual with strong morals and being given the mantle of Captain America had given him an even bigger reason to uphold an image of strength. It wasn’t an easy responsibility to shoulder and it clearly weighed on him a great deal. Everyone needs someone who they could share their burdens with.

Bucky Barnes was Steve’s best friend, they had a number of shared experiences, he would have been the natural choice to be Steve’s confidant. Except Steve now spent most of his time and energy taking care of the broken supersoldier. It made you feel special, to think that you were the one he had chosen to take care of him, to be his partner, to be worthy of his love. But now you had lost it all.

Dinner was a somber affair following which you curled up on May’s couch. Sleep didn’t come until the early hours of the morning when the tears finally stopped falling.

The coming days were spent hiding out at May’s. Steve tried to call you a number of times but you couldn’t bring yourself to face the situation. You knew you had to go home eventually and there was no way you could avoid him then.

You felt instant regret as you entered your apartment late that night. Sleep deprived and physically exhausted after an intense day of training with May, you rushed into your home and fell into bed. It didn't take long for you to enter a deep slumber, dreaming of the life you could have had.

Morning came far sooner than you would have liked. You washed and dressed on autopilot, trying not to think of the different ways you might run into your beloved Captain. It happened much sooner than expected and liked. On your way out, you heard voices through the door. They sounded happy, full of laughter.

Maybe if you waited, they would leave and you could escape undetected. After a few moments of silence, you peeked through the peephole, the coast looked clear. You pulled open the door and ventured out only to come face to face with the happy couple locked in a kiss.

There was nowhere to go. You'd already closed your front door, trying to unlock it would attract attention, so would any attempt to slip passed. You were well and truly trapped in a nightmare.

Peggy spotted you first. "Oh, hello. You must be our neighbor!"

"Ace," Steve said your name so softly, you wondered if you imagined it.

"It's nice to meet you," Peggy held out your hand.

The years of training allowed your body to respond appropriately while your brain felt like it had been put through a blender. You shook Peggy's hand politely.

"Nice to meet you, too."

Steve was looking at you like he'd been caught committing a crime.

"Hi," you felt compelled to fill the silence.

"I didn't know you were here."

"I got home pretty late last night."

"You two know each other?" Peggy interjected.

Steve introduced you to Peggy. "She used to be a S.H.I.E.L.D agent. Now she is a teacher to some pretty special kids."

"Wow, everyone's part of the family here." She smiled at you warmly.

"Ace, do you think we could have a chat, please?" His eyes were pleading silently.

He wanted to talk about your relationship, your former relationship. Did he want to do it in front of her?

"Maybe we could go for a walk later? After you're done at work?" he clarified.

"Yeah, after work. I should go there, to work, now." You nodded and pushed past them.

"Have a good day," Peggy called after you.

"Thank you," you answered without looking back, not wanting either of them to see your pain.

There was bedlam when you arrived at the Academy. Two of your students had taken it upon themselves to practice their sparring while they waited. Needless to say you spent most of your morning mediating the animosity that had been created in your absence.

By the time you had scratched the surface of your lesson plan, it was 4pm and your students practically dismissed themselves.

"We're not done here! I'd better not come in to any more destruction tomorrow!" you yelled after them.

You received a cacophony of goodbyes with few assurances of peace. You loved your kids but they were exhausting! As you finished cleaning up and making progress notes, you noticed the time and the conversation from the morning came flooding back to you. It was probably time you headed home to face the music.

Steve was waiting for you outside the building. You spotted him before he saw you and you grabbed that moment to admire his physique and how much you missed how he held you.

“Ace!”

His voice broke through your reverie. “Steve,” you greeted him softly. “It’s nice to see you.”

You weren’t lying. It was wonderful to see him, regardless of the situation and what you knew was coming next. Neither of you seemed to know what to do next, the temptation was to fling yourselves into the other’s arms, but that was out of the question. And you could tell Steve was thinking the same.

“Can we go down to the park?”

“Sure.”

“Let me take that for you.” Steve took your bag from your arms, chivalrous to a fault.

You let him, you would have let him do anything in that moment. The walk down towards Prospect Park was tense, both of you felt like you were walking through a field of landmines.

“I spent the whole day trying to figure out what I wanted to say when I saw you. None of it sounds right now you’re actually here.” Steve finally spoke.

“I don’t know if there is anything to say, Steve.”

“The last thing I want to do is hurt you, Ace. I lo-"

"Don't." You reached up and put your fingers across his lips. It was a little more invasive a move than you'd intended but you couldn't bear hearing Steve tell you he loved you. Not after you'd seen him kissing the love of his life that morning.

"What do we do now?" he asked as you withdrew your fingers.

"Judging by Peggy's greeting this morning, I assume you haven't told her about our… the relationship we had."

Steve didn't answer but the shame on his face spoke volumes.

"Then the answer is simple. We're neighbors. Do you think we can do that?"

"Ace, I don't want to lose you."

"We don't always get what we want, Steve."

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #peggy carter #agent carter #bucky barnes x reader #buckybarnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fan fiction #finding you

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whumpsoda · 8 months ago

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imagine Nevan having a want, a need of sorts. Darius wouldn’t care of course, but Adrastus spots it simmering beneath the surface and invites the thrall to state his need, without any punishment, but also without guarantee that it could be accommodated.

Nevan fights it at first but after Ad commands it via thrall he finally whispers that he wished Malak was less enthralled so he could have someone to talk to—like he had been when he was sick. a disgustingly selfish need on Nevan’s end that he fully expects to be punished for suggesting.

idk what happens next but I doubt Adrastus would be angry, perhaps having sympathy for the thrall while remaining firm that Malak would remain the way he is(??)

WOHEO Masterlist cw: hypnosis, captivity, servant whump, vampire whumper

———————————————————————

“Something wrong, dear?”

It was obvious to the vampire that something just had to be poking at the man’s usually muddled brain. From Nevan’s furrowed brows to his lack of concentration, his mind was clearly elsewhere.

Adrastus had been aiding him in washing some of the thrall’s dishes, bored of sitting around endlessly with nothing to do. The kitchen was tainted with a pinch of awkward air, but neither seemed to mind too much.

Nevan blinked hard, catching himself and swiftly continuing to scrub the dish between his fingers, flustered. “Um… no, no, of course not, master.”

“Nothing troubling you? Nothing at all?” They pressed, leisurely scraping food scraps into the sink.

Adrastus wasn’t an idiot. Of course he’d say no. He’d probably learned very quickly that his own master was in no way fond of entertaining the feelings of a thrall. A bit sad, if you asked them.

“No, sir.”

They sighed. “Nevan,” he stopped as they turned to face him, avoiding eye contact and biting his lip. “Do not lie to me. If something is the matter, tell me.”

For a moment, he hesitated. “Everything is, is fine, master. Nothing… nothing is wrong.”

“Love, I don’t appreciate you hiding things. I’m not going to punish you for whatever you have to say, I swear on it.”

“Master, I’m, I’m fine!”

They placed a hand to his exposed shoulder, rubbing their thumb over his lush skin. “Shhh, darling, you can trust me. You can trust master, I would never hurt you.”

Their smile only hardened as they noticed him easily slipping under their luscious control, eyes going glassy and muscles relaxing under their sweet, sweet touch. How utterly adorable. “Master… I… I’m fine…”

“You trust master oh, so much. You trust me with every single thought in that little mind of yours, even the bad ones. Master just wants to help you. Master can help you.”

He carefully dropped his plate to the counter, body swaying with silky ease and calm. “I’m… I…”

“C’mon, baby. You can tell Master. You want to tell Master.” Their aura was amping up with hypnotic force, tugging his secret right out from under him.

“I… I wish…”

“Nevan. Tell me.”

His voice fell to a soft whisper as his relent snapped into a shatter of tiny pieces. “I, I wish Malak was… awake. Like me. So, so I could have someone to talk to… like when he was sick.”

“Oh.”

How pitiful.

Yet, how utterly and undeniably endearing at the same time.

“Oh, dear.” Adrastus’ grin faded, falling into that of a compassionate pout. Pulling Nevan into a tight embrace they dug their head into his chest, contact he fully melted into.

After a moment of pleasant, warm hugging, Adrastus pulled the thrall to their level, cupping his chin. “I… understand that. Yes, I could see why you’d yearn for such a thing.”

Their heart split just the tiniest bit at the glimmer in his eye, like he dumbly believed they would consider such a thing. It was silly, really, but only made him ten times cuter. “Though, I’m sorry little love, I just can’t ease up on him like that. He needs such a heavy spell to quell his ever present anxiousness and messy mind. He needs it to feel good.”

“You understand, don’t you?”

“Yes… master…” his words were coated with dissatisfaction and disappointment, but still muddled with daze. So eager to please, he was, even when had he been more conscious he would’ve easily argued.

They would never let that happen.

Adrastus’ grin returned in full, almost as if it had never left. “Good, good. Such a good boy, you.” They tussled his hair, sending his mind reeling and his dopily happy expression to return as well. “Now, just remember, you can always tell me anything else your little mind stirs up, alright? No judgement here, baby.”

“Oh- okay. Of course… sir. Tell… tell you… anything…”

They chuckled, pecking him right on the forehead and whispering beside his susceptible ear. “Such an obedient thrall. Just splendid.”

In that of a flash their demeanor flipped, patting the thrall on the cheek and awakening him from their trance. “Now, back to your chores you go, darling!” Nevan quickly picked back up his task, this time with complete focus and attention like always.

Before they let the conversation go and risk the talk washing right out from Nevan’s memory, Adrastus leaned in close just one more time. “Then make sure you go spend some time playing with your little friend, okay?”

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Taglist- @softvampirewhump @iys-cloud @battyfantasy @xx-adam-xx @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @mylifeisonthebookshelf

If anyone wants to be removed or added to the taglist, please let me know! :)

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heliomanteia · 13 days ago

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Hi! I've stumbled across a couple of your posts about Calypso and I just wanted to say that it was nice to see someone that thinks about her the same way that I do. She is deeply flawed and does things that are wrong, but she's also a whole person being used as a punishment by the gods for some random man they don't like very much. It's just so wonderful for me to see a person that can see her whole character instead of just her poor meow meow Odysseus potential

(like the rape headcanon which has a single (ONE SINGLE LINE) of evidence in the entire saga for. I'm so sick of people taking this character that probably doesn't even know what sex is and deciding that she's a rapist because she was in the original Odyssey. Literally no one else gets this treatment but her)

Hello, Epic!Calypso means a lot to me and every time I see an incessantly mean post about her I grow to like her more in defiance /lh

I feel a lot of ways about Calypso and I'm very biased because I resonate with her on some deep personal level. But also your ask allows me to rant and so I will:

🌊 I like Calypso as a character because she's complex. She has close to no known lore in the Odyssey and I choose to ignore other texts that mention her because, well, Epic is loosely based off the Odyssey. The musical expanded on the little personality she had in the text in a good way, in my opinion. She's more than a foil/functional narrative part she was in the original text.

🌴 I feel like you're making a good point by saying she probably doesn't know what sex is. While she's clearly an adult woman, she was supposedly imprisoned young (if you follow the general myth, then during Titanomachy) and it's never stated she had prior lovers. She probably has an idea of intimacy but no experience of intimacy. She's also not socialized properly. I would compare her experience to someone living in total isolation or solitary confinement. Of course her people skills are limited. She needs therapy, not public scrutiny.

🥥 Whether or not you believe immortal beings age and mature depends on the source but mythology (generally) offers us examples of growing up and becoming of Gods so I believe Calypso grew up on that island. Her saying she was imprisoned "when young" also kinda hints it imo. With that said, this girl might have as well spent her formative years alone. Loneliness has devastating effects on psyche, I'm surprised she's not deathly depressed. That is, if we choose a sympathetic route — which is what I choose to follow because Epic is overall written as a sympathetic narrative. If it wasn't, I'd just call Odysseus a war criminal that deserves all he got.

🐚 This one is controversial but I cannot help but feel sympathy for the way Calypso imagines a happily-ever-after and genuinely believes in that illusion. It reminds me a lot of how someone with a stigmatized mental disorder would view reality in a distorted way — and sometimes even hurt other people without meaning to hurt them. Toxic (this word is so overused), suffocating love? And from both of her songs we know she didn't mean to hurt Odysseus. Her actions were wrong, her reasonings convoluted, but she did not mean harm. She hurt him without an intention to hurt him and she can't see that she hurt him because her world rotates on completely different system of axis. You could say she understands she might have been wrong but she won't apologize for it.

🍹 I will never keep repeating that she's an immortal character that lacks human morality overall + she's never been around others before Odysseus. The way she's scrutinized for the same things other Gods across mythology do (most of whom are constantly around mortals and have a track of seducing them) is such a knee-jerk response it's funny.

Like I said before, I personally choose to interpret Calypso's "ambush" as at least somewhat physical, but at the end of the day it is an assumption/personal preference. You reminded me, though, how, hm, peculiar it is that she's so far the only character whose mythical counterpart overpowers her musical persona in the fandom about the musical. I appreciate that people are aware of the text of the Odyssey enough (I hope) but there has to be a limit to the complaining. Jorge works hard to create fleshed out characters for his own loosely inspired story that he fills in with his own narratives. I think it gets to the point of ridiculous when a fleshed out character is ignored in favor of a barely defined myth counterpart.

Her character didn't get absolved of the blame, she got two banger songs that completely align with her myth persona, literally what is that thing that makes people so mad about her. Because if it's personal distaste then it sure overpowered the ability to enjoy complicated narratives and characters that do not align with what the main character needs.

#❔#I cannot believe I have to explain a complex character to a fandom about a musical about a complicated man smh 😔#epic the musical #epic calypso

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batsplat · 2 months ago

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reading your fabio/casey post, im curious: how much sympathy do you give to riders who have chosen money over success? fabio could've gone elsewhere but he chose The Bag and while i feel for him given how bad the bike is (and that there's only two bikes, etc) he did tie himself to the project for years to come

(x) hm interesting one. there's a few different things here

first off, in general I have an extreme lack of sympathy for athletes who choose wealth over success. I understand it's an inescapable part of how sports works, but that doesn't mean I have to like it - these are sums of money that I just feel are fundamentally immoral. nobody should be paid as much as some of these athletes are. now, obviously not all riders in motogp are all that well paid, I get that they don't have a lot of career security and I also get that this is a reason why everyone's jumping at those factory seats. for instance, I do have some sympathy for jorge martin's choice to switch to aprilia, even though he too is of course choosing a less competitive bike. from the estimates of these guys' salaries to us available and considering expenses, that man is not being paid in a manner commensurate to his abilities or success. (though if the adage of 'ducati pays shit salaries but great bonuses' holds true, I imagine he too is very much fine.) still, by the time you get to the numbers fabio was getting chucked at him, fundamentally I... do not care anymore. like that's dumb amounts of money, I don't care how many yachts you can buy. it's disgusting

but, well. it's also what these big money offers mean, right. it's a way for manufacturers to show riders how much they're wanted - and while I also don't like... love that the way to do this involves this many millions, that's how this process works. the reason why casey ended up switching from ducati to honda wasn't a competitive calculation where he saw that ducati was trending downwards and decided to jump ship. it's because he went to ducati and told them to make him a suitable offer, and they didn't do so. from his autobiography:

After the way they'd behaved I had pretty much decided that I was through with Ducati and even though they put a new contract in front of me, for 2011 and 2012, it was going to take a much grander gesture to make me stay. I told them I wanted them to show me what I meant to them. 'What do you mean?' they said. 'That's up to you,' I told them. I gave them months to do it and nothing happened. In the end I had to spell it out. I said, 'Rip up my current contract and show me what I am worth to you.' They wouldn't do it, and that told me all I needed to know. Up until then there was a chance that I'd stay but that effectively made my decision easy.

now, listen, casey's situation was very much its own thing, his bridges with ducati were already burnt and it was always highly unlikely he'd stay. but as he puts it, he was willing to give ducati a chance - if they put enough money on the table to show him they care. this is obviously not a performance-based decision. if casey stays with ducati, he does not win a second championship - it's as simple as that. riders want to feel wanted, they want to feel valued... and the money symbolises that to them, a commitment of faith on part of the manufacturer to the rider. martin's choice wasn't primarily financially incentivised, right (and tbh, if ducati weren't willing to put a large sum of money on the table for him, factory seat or not, they're idiots) - it was that he wanted to feel wanted. it's emotional but it's also practical in that you want to know your manufacturer will rally around you and do whatever it takes to make you succeed. it helps if you know they have a big stake in your success... money plays a role in so many of these decisions - and while I really don't like it, it's also tough to penalise fabio specifically too harshly for it

all that being said, if it really were just about any of the stuff I just listed, I would have less than zero time for the choice. I'm an old fashioned kind of bloke... for me sports is about one thing, and that's winning. but the real problem fabio faced was a lack of great options that could help him achieve said winning. let's quickly run through them:

yamaha: currently laughably uncompetitive. this season has been disappointing from them, even by the standards of their modest pre-season expectations... you would have hoped they'd be a little closer by this stage in the year. but, well, by the start of the year it was clear this would be a long-term project. they have made personnel changes in line with fabio's demands, have made shown themselves willing to follow his development direction and commit fully to him on every level as their star rider. he knows the project, he knows that the money is there - and unlike the two non-ducati european manufacturers, yamaha has a proven track record of winning championships

aprilia: the second/third best manufacturer at the moment, but far off the first. sometimes have the pace to challenge for victory, frequently don't. part of that will be down to the inconsistent riders and not just the inconsistent bikes, but it also doesn't help that it's also the number one technical problem team. aprilia had some strong early season pace around the time fabio was making his choice (remember, vinales really should have been leading the championship coming out of cota - though the fact that he wasn't does of course also tell you what you need to know about aprilia)... but at this stage it seems a little unlikely they'll have a bike in championship contention next season. the manufacturer with the least spending power, still doesn't have a title sponsor

ktm: seemingly full. now, obviously, whenever ktm says they want to stick with their current riders, you can reasonably assume they will change their minds. and they did change their minds, which is how we now have a completely new tech3 line up for next season. but realistically, given pedro's golden boy status and binder's contract spanning roughly until the next ice age, that was the best fabio could have hoped for. yes, there were murmurings both jorge and marc might be an option for the factory team - but I never took those all too seriously, and both riders have a more substantial history with ktm/red bull than fabio does. in any case, ktm will be built around pedro. I suppose you can say fabio should back himself to beat pedro, but that's the kind of call you can make if you think you'll be fighting for championships the moment you join the manufacturer. if ktm isn't there yet next year (which is likely), then what fabio would have had to do is attempt to assert himself against the next great thing, already more established than him within the manufacturer, from a satellite bike, with zero guarantee that ktm will actually be in championship contention any time soon. eh

ducati: well, look, a factory seat was never on the cards for him anyway. you'd have to think he could have gotten a satellite seat of some type, if he really had been willing to take whatever was on the table. ducati has generally liked collecting all the strongest riders, and you'd hope would've been up for it... who knows what spec he would have been able to acquire. if he's on a year old bike, then winning a title would always be a tall order. even if he's on the newest spec... the template here of course is marc, but it felt from the start that this gresini gig was supposed to be a stopgap. fabio is not at the stage of his career where he should be looking for stopgaps, and he still wouldn't have an obvious place to go for 2026. whichever way ducati ended up arranging their riders, there would have been no short to medium term route into the factory team for fabio

honda: lol

at a certain point, it does make sense to go with the manufacturer that is willing to back you as its star. now, look, maybe jorge martin wins the championship next year, in which case fabio's decision will obviously have aged poorly. but you'd have to say that's unlikely... fabio's bet here basically has to be that switching to aprilia might have brought him race wins next year, but sticking with yamaha might bring him more titles eventually. at this stage, neither of his two most plausible options look like championship contenders until 2027. yamaha, however, have a lot of money at their disposal - which they proved by signing him. if he switches now and the aprilia dream doesn't come off, it leaves him in a weaker position for 2027 than the path he's currently on. none of these options are great exactly... but there is a logic to the reasoning here. if there were an equivalent to honda 2011 for fabio to jump ship to, obviously he'd be an idiot not to accept. there just isn't, though, is there? he tied himself to the project for two years, which puts him in sync with basically the entire grid. it lets everyone completely reset for 2027... until then, you'd have to say it's pretty unlikely that anyone who isn't on a ducati will be winning any titles - and if they do, my money would still be on ktm. maybe you think fabio should back himself and take the risk, which is an understandable position. but equally, I do get how sticking with the devil you know and will go to war for you might make sense in the medium to long term. if it really was just the money, I have zero respect for that. but I don't think it was, so I'll spare him a little sympathy. for his troubles

#side note: when i wrote the words “puts him in sync with basically the entire grid” i was mentally going through the riders' contracts #and realised that two of the only exceptions are. hm. luca and franky #which feels like a situation that could become a bit. hm. if the honda relationship doesn't survive #//#brr brr #batsplat responds #current tag

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pelagaye · 1 year ago

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red shoes on yellow brick

fandom: honkai star rail pairings: sampo, dan heng, gepard x reader summary: y/n is no dorothy but upon reaching the magical place of welt, y/n sees no issue in helping a number of its people. perhaps even providing them more than what they seek with how unique and charming this individual with red shoes on is. notes: tada! it's a wizard of oz au and may this first fic of mine be to your liking despite the length ehe i kinda had so much making it <3

it's a simple wish truly because when a big unwarranted tornado whisks you away from the comfort of your own residence, all you can want for is just to get back home.

seeing how troubled you've becoming, some lil chibi people who refers themselves as "the mole munchkins" that helped you earlier from the wreckage advises that you go meet a mighty powerful being that calls himself the wizard of welt who can grant any wish you long for.

sounding like a fairy godmother, it definitely captivated you so you might as well see what he's capable off.

the munchkins gives you a pair of red sandals they found on the sides, believing it can help you on the way to the wizard.

honestly, you'd trade the nice pair of red shows you now had on for the sake of getting back if you can.

bidding goodbye to the little fellas who told you to just follow the yellow brick road, you and your rabbit pompom begin the journey you didn't ask for the slightest.

here's to hoping the casts you meet along the way are nice.

sampo as the scarecrow

it is a long way to the place you had to be and the never-ending surface of yellow brick just had to emphasize that.

pompom hops around you indicating the both of you should rest before the pain comes through.

your home would still wait for you no matter what, right?

imagining of the place you yearn for, you notice how you ended up in the middle of a enormous cornfield of crops almost glistening like gold.

in between it all, is a scarecrow on a high pole that looks like it's attempting to do its job of shooing pesky birds away.

for something just made of old clothes and straw, the built of the figure was wide, as if he'd have muscles if he had to be human.

you, being the curious type can't help but stare longer than intended on the decoy figure, as there just seems to be so fascinating about it.

"take a photograph it'll last longer."

a voice shakes you from the trance.

when you try to find who it belongs to, there could only be one place-

looking at pompom before directing your eyes to the scarecrow, it winks at you, almost too naturally.

you inquire him how is able to talk and move.

swishing his threads of blue that acts likes bangs, he tells you if you can maybe bring him down he could explain more.

you find out his name is sampo, he asks what's a pretty person like you going to places like this cornfield.

ignoring the flattery, you share your plans to meet the wizard of welt to get back home.

sampo has no clue about the city you are to visit nor the person you seek.

it doesn't make sense to you that the man made of straw has no idea about the info you shared after the munchkins shared everyone knows about the wizard.

"maybe i can tag along? as a scarecrow with no brains, it might help me out. do you think the big shot can do that?"

sampo explains he's tired always being labeled as an idiot so how will he ever know much more if his head is filled with anything but a brain.

your sympathy gets to you first for some reason.

maybe it's the way how he holds your hands as he begs the question, or perhaps it's the way how he softly smiles as he towers in front of your small figure causing the lack of proximity.

"i'll ask the wizard for everything he can offer for you," you tell him.

sampo as a scarecrow, doesn't deny the determination in your voice, and he feels likes the straws in his stomach getting replaced with something else.

maybe he doesn't need a brain when your wit is enough to keep him afloat above any field.

dan heng as the tin man

ever since he was young, relatives and others have told dan heng he had no heart with the cold exterior persona the young man displays usually.

and with all the metal that's part of him to carry like a burden of his own predicament, dan heng could only accept their false accusations to not make the situation any worse than it already is.

just like in the og game, dan heng flees.

after all who wouldn't with that situation?

he comes across a pink haired girl who he eventually becomes accustomed to.

he tells her about his issues and his friend immediately perks up.

"oh??? then why not visit the wizard of welt??" march suggests.

and so he does, alone.

along the way, through the depths of the forest, he doesn't expect rain to happen.

this becomes an inconvenience to the tin man putting a stop to dan heng's expedition.

all because of a damn rain pour that causes him to rust.

there was no way of contacting march in any way and as much as he tries to budge, he remains where he is.

months might have already passed and dan heng could only reflect how much of a troubling life he got to experience.

that is until a pair of red shoes comes into his view.

the man made of tin cannot bring his head up to see who is messing with his parts but he prays to himself that the newcomers are simply just trying to help his pathetic position.

and next thing he knows, he's functioning again! what a surprise!

dan heng doesn't miss a second to offer his gratitude for the oil he was provided.

but before he even tries, he's taken aback by the beauty you hold as you were explaining you were just passing by with sampo the scarecrow with the help of the yellow brick road to get to the wizard. also explaining you were helping sampo in the process as you'd do anything for people in need.

"you have a beautiful heart," dan heng thinks to himself.

he is surprise to think of this coming from his own mind and seeing that he himself doesn't have one of his own.

at least, that's what he thought he has done as he fails to notice the creeping color of red on your face, matching the shoes you wore.

it fades quickly as dan heng humbly requests if he could come, practically silently pleading to whoever is listening that you accept.

thankfully, your kindness allows to agree.

the journey is much more bearable with your company after that.

everything you do in full willingness, even if it's the bare minimum, is enough to encourage dan heng to get that heart from the wizard of oz no matter what.

what he doesn't know, is that he has already gotten one from the fact he has unknowingly fell in love with you.

gepard as the cowardly lion

for someone who's supposedly a "vicious" "feline" with not much courage, it takes not even a fool to realize how much of a sweetheart gepard is.

at least, that was established after being ambushed by the big blonde whom tried to inflict fear on the current party you had going on.

poor pompom having to deal with the fact he was the main target being the smallest.

regardless of such attempt, gepard was secretly frighten by the unexpected retaliation lil pompom pulls back at him without much effort.

you, already exhausted enough from the bs sampo and dan heng does with each other, decides to put an end to the one sided battle going on with the lion and rabbit.

pompom, at long last, stops beating the poor feline and lets you do your thing with what you've already done with all the strays you've been picking up.

putting in his place by placing yourself in front of gepard, staring back into his blue eyes, you decided to execute the only idea you had.

you boop his nose, catching everyone off guard.

"you are nothing but a big coward," you tell him without missing a heartbeat.

still looking back at each other, gepard lets out a sigh of defeat.

"i am painfully aware of that," he frowns.

he explains that he's both a younger and older brother to two sisters whom he cares about so much and they're practically both the main reason why he wants to be much courageous.

he'd sacrifice everything for the sake of their safety, so until he learns a thing or two, he promises to not comeback to them until then.

so he tries to train himself by being scarier in some way or another.

even if it means attacking strangers out of the blue. what a big dumbie i am so in love with him.

"there are many things i can do and cannot. the very least thing i should attempt is prove to myself that i can find the heart and not be the coward i have been my whole life."

you're practically shaking inside hearing his chivalric sentiment.

while no longer a threat despite not being one in the first place, the honesty he holds convinces you to urge him to join your party.

unlike the other two, it's really you this time who's trying to appeal to gepard the idea of heading to the wizard of welt.

"is that right? you wish for me to come with your pack? that's very kind of you but wouldn't i just cause harm such as earlier?"

you tell him that as long as he can apologize to pompom, who seems to still hold a petty grudge, no hard feelings will remain.

gepard smiles at you softly, admiring the valor you've shown him even if it's in your way.

there's no way for him to decline your offer at this point.

he vows to keep you all safe no matter the dangers that'll try to stop, despite how scared he still is deep inside.

you hug him immediately without much thought when he expresses his confirmation.

it's extremely bold of you, yes, but gepard doesn't mind.

he hopes he can return it asap when he gains the courage he hopes for.

#if i can i might make part 2 and include the wicked witch of the west casted by kafka himeko as glinda and the wizard obvi being welt >___<#hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #sampo x reader #dan heng x reader #gepard x reader #hsr x you #honkai star rail x you #sampo x you #dan heng x you #gepard x you

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listenheresweaty · 6 months ago

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BURGER VAN BURGER VAN—- Top text, Bottom text. ——— REVIVEBUR X READER - omg guys it’s here can you believe that I took four months to post something I had already written out

——-

Warnings: copious alcohol consumption, mentions of ableist remarks, allusions to underage drinking, jokes about alcoholism by people with drinking problems (addiction is a mental illness guys. Please be respectful about it.) The alcoholism stuff started off as humor based on my own experiences*. I had intended on expanding on it and making it into a larger plot line about recovery/etc but I do not know if I’ll ever continue this work.

*alcohol has played a role in my life but I am not technically an addict. If anything in this fic is offensive, please let me know and I’ll change it/ take it down.

Reader is called “guy” but is otherwise gender neutral.

There are a couple jokes about Beeduo flirting but it is intended humorously, not with any romantic intent.

—————-

It was a blisteringly, stupidly hot day, made only more intolerable by the long expanses of hot sand and lack of vegetation. Although, you supposed it was your fault for deciding to get a job in the Las Nevadas Casino- quite literally smack dab in the middle of a desert. Fortunately, just in the edges of the desert territory, where the sands met fresh green grass, sat a quaint, almost minuscule burger van. It received very few customers, partly due to the uninhabited nature of the area and partly because of the owner’s less than appealing reputation.

You believed that the owner’s— his name was Wilbur-- reputation was mostly undeserved. Sure, he had done some extremely questionable things in his past, and continued to carry himself with a madman’s easy grace and confidence, sending people scurrying out of his way— it was fair to say that most of the people you knew were afraid of Wilbur, despite his lack of physical strength. You, however, could never find him intimidating. He was too much of a loser complete dork.

Wilbur certainly wasn’t imposing as you walked up to him, eyeing his tall form awkwardly making its way through the van that was clearly too small for him.

He looked so silly, leaning over the burgers as they cooked, that it was hard to imagine that this was the same man everyone spoke about with such fear. You had to laugh.

Wilbur stood up straight at the sound, bumping his head against the van’s ceiling and letting out a stream of curses that stopped abruptly when his eyes landed on you.

“Quite the colorful vocabulary you have.” You teased, approaching the vans window with a playful smile. “Perhaps we should wash your mouth out with soap.”

Wilbur stood still for a moment, hand still braced against the van ceiling, before he relaxed and sent you a lopsided smile. “Only if you do it, darling.”

“Oh shut up.” You laughed. “Why in the world would you make the van so small, anyway? It’s not like it benefits your coworker- the kid’s even taller than you are.”

“Never question the logic of a genius.” Wilbur sighed like a cat stretching out in the sun, leaning out of the van with his elbows against the windowsill. “What are you doing all the way out here, anyway? You should be working. Don’t tell me-“ he grinned impossibly wider, leaning even closer, “that you missed me that much?”

You snorted. “Absolutely not. You must be concussed. How hard did you hit your head?”

Wilbur’s bottom lip pulled downwards in an exaggerated pout. “Quite hard, actually. I think I might need to see a doctor.” He sighed, dramatically.

“Awww, poor baby.” You cooed with false sympathy, reaching up above to run your fingers through Wilbur’s brown curls. “Where’d you hit yourself? Here?”

Wilbur was struck dumb, mouth opening and closing without any sound coming out—clearly, he wasn’t used to being flirted with. He regained his composure quickly, leaning into your touch with a self-satisfied smirk.

“Mhmm.” He sighed, keeping up the act. “I’m afraid it’s terminal. They’ll have to pull the plug on me.”

“Is that so?”

“I’m already hallucinating.” Wilbur announced, ever so dramatically. “Oh, [Name], sweetheart, will you cry at my funeral?”

“Of course.” You snickered, trying hard to keep a straight face. “Hallucinating? Really?”

“Hm.” A smirk pulled at Wilbur’s lips. “I’m already seeing angels.”

You rolled your eyes. “Must every sentence you utter twist itself into a pickup line?”

“Only for you.” The corners of Wilbur’s mouth pulled upwards to form an uncharacteristically genuine grin. The smile disappeared as fast as it came, making you wonder if you had only imagined it.

“Why don’t you come inside?” Wilbur offered, leaning back into the van (and nearly hitting his head, once again, against the top of the window frame).

You hesitated.

“I have air conditioning in here.” He added.

“Open the door.” You said immediately, making your way to the back of the van and jiggling the doorknob. You heard Wilbur laugh and cross the threshold quite quickly, almost frantically unlocking the doors in order to grab your hand and hoist you in. You sighed in relief at the feeling of the cool air washing over you, whisking away the sheen of sweat that the heat had formed on your skin.

Wilbur patted the counter next to him and you complied, sitting on the cool marble surface and letting your feet dangle as she observed the world outside the van window. It was a beautiful day outside, all things considered.

Wilbur gestured to the burgers that were still cooking (actually, at this point, you were fairly certain that they were burnt). “Do you mind if I continue churning out my mediocre meat meals?” He asked.

You snorted. “Go ahead.” After a few beats of silence, you spoke again. “You know, your burgers aren’t that bad.”

Wilbur hummed, but maintained focus on the dark slab of burnt meat he was trying to chisel off the grill with a spatula. “Is that so? They sure don’t seem to be bringing in many customers, do they?” He leaned in with a teasing grin. “Flattery isn’t going to get you anywhere, darling.”

“It isn’t flattery.” You said. “It’s not your burgers that—“

You cut yourself off abruptly, cursing your mistake.

Wilbur clearly understood what you had been about to say, and raised an eyebrow. The quality of his business wasn’t what customers were avoiding- people avoided him.

“I suppose your right.” He said shrugging. His easygoing and flippant attitude had returned, but there was a more sullen, guarded undertone to his words. You wracked your brain for something to say, but nothing surfaced.

A clinking of glass broke you out of your thoughts. “Want a drink?” Wilbur offered, eager to change the subject.

You nodded absentmindedly. The sun was setting in the horizon, marking the approach of closing hours for most businesses in the area, including the van. Wilbur rummaged through a wooden cabinet before pulling out two expensive-looking bottles and handing one to you. “Help yourself.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Vodka? Where did you get this?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Just a little place I know. Tiny little store far from here.”

“Hm. And this tiny little far-away store sells vodka with the Las Nevadas logo on the cap?”

You heard him curse softly.

“Damn.” Wilbur chuckled. “I forgot to remove those.”

You held out your glass as Wilbur filled it, before leaning back against the wall of the van. Wilbur leaned against the counter next to you.

You swirled your cup around, eyeing the moving liquid before tilting your head back and taking a rather large sip.

“So, what have you been up to?” You asked him. “When you’re not stealing expensive liquor from the casino?”

Wilbur shrugged. “Well.. not much honestly. I’ve just been working here at the van. There’s not much I can do on most days— since my fry guy either forgets to come to work or is out flirting with the rival fry guy across the street. Then, I… ‘visit’ the casino.”

You hummed, draining your glass and gesturing for Wilbur to refill it. Wilbur complied.

“Aren’t you permanently banned from the casino? My boss would kill you if he caught you on the premises.” You continued, only half joking.

Wilbur laughed. “Oh, he could certainly try. But if a few bans can’t stop me, neither can he.”

“Can’t he?”

“Of course not.” Wilbur snickered. “He’s like half my height.”

“He could still snap you like a twig. Hell, I could snap you like a twig.”

Wilbur smiled. “Oh, I know. It’s hot.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What’s hot? The fact that I can beat you in a fight or that my boss can beat you in a fight?”

Wilbur choked on his drink. “Wh- YOU. Not- I’m not-“

You burst out laughing. “Damn, okay. I didn’t know that’s the kind of relationship you had with him.”

Wilbur spluttered. “N-no—!”

“I guess there’s more to your rivalry than meets the eye.” You sighed, grabbing the vodka bottle to refill your glass yourself since Wilbur was too busy coughing to oblige. “How romantic.”

“NO. I-I meant YOU—- I don’t have the hots for Quackity, for Gods sake. “ Wilbur looked somewhere between abashed and scandalized. “I hate the man!”

You drained your third glass. “Mm-hmm.”

Wilbur huffed. “Well, going back to the topic of whether or not Alex— sorry, ‘your boss’—could beat me up-“

“He could.” You interjected.

Wilbur sighed. “Don’t interrupt me. Anyway, YES he could beat me in a physical confrontation— stop smirking!—but you’re forgetting something important. Our rivalry is based on genius. On cold, calculated planning, ALWAYS staying one step ahead…”

“…and burgers.” You said.

“And burgers.” He agreed, finishing another glass. “Whew, I should quit drinking for today.”

“You should.” You found yourself saying, the vodka having greatly loosened your tongue. “We wouldn’t want one of today’s beautiful minds to go to waste for a pint or two of heavy liquor.”

Wilbur stiffened, turning toward you slightly to look at you with wide eyes. His cheeks looked darker than usual, although that might have been the alcohol he had consumed.

You blinked. “…What?”

Wilbur paused before speaking, raising an eyebrow. “‘Beautiful mind’?” He repeated, trying to portray smugness but the waver in his voice betrayed some other emotion. “Me?”

You nodded, watching a crimson blush that certainly had nothing to do with the alcohol settle on Wilbur’s cheekbones. You continued speaking. “Yeah. I’ve never met someone who views the world like you do, or has the same talent with words as you. You’re like a poet, honestly. .. you’re pretty incredible.”

Wilbur stared at you, caught completely off guard for the first time in his life. He opened and closed his mouth, trying to form coherent words, but failed. Oh, the irony.

It was the last thing he had expected to hear, you realized as you studied his flushed face. After his return, people had been whispering about Wilbur, using several adjectives to describe him-- none of them pleasant. “Insane” and “a ticking time bomb” had been some of the nicer ones. To hear someone compliment the very same thing that everyone had chosen to pick apart and belittle must have moved him greatly.

You wondered how people could be so foolish. Wilbur had done some reprehensible things, and continued to be morally gray at best, but he was still human.

“Broken mind,” they had all said as he walked past, thinking he wouldn’t hear.

“Beautiful mind,” You had told him.

Wilbur looked like he wanted to cry, glancing away from you with a poorly suppressed, wobbly grin.

You wanted to hug him. Perhaps he’d appreciate that, after having been isolated and despised for years.

“I mean that, you know?” You hastily added as Wilbur tried to scoff and brush it off.

His head tilted. “…Of course.”

You actually moved to hug him, startling the both of you. Standing a few inches in front of him, you hesitantly opened your arms, praying to the gods that you hadn’t made anything worse.

He shuddered slightly, nodding, and sank against you, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning his forehead against your shoulder.

⭐️⭐️⭐️

The next day, you forced your way through the casino, with sluggish movements and a pounding headache. You must have drunk more than you thought yesterday. Regardless, you took off towards Wilbur’s burger van as soon as you had the chance. This time, there were two tall figures moving about in the van. Wilbur’s fry guy, a shy kid named Ranboo , had finally returned.

Ranboo dipped his head in greeting as you approached. Wilbur remained facing towards the grill, seemingly determined not to burn more meat and unaware of your presence.

“Hello Mx., what would you like to order?” Ranboo asked.

“Hmmm… I’m a bit indecisive today. What do you suggest?” You responded.

At the sound of your voice, Wilbur whipped around, swiveling the upper half of his body toward you and Ranboo.

You met his eyes and smiled, eyes soft.

“Well, our five-spice burger is pretty popular right now. If you, uh, aren’t a fan of spicy foods, then the chicken patty is also a popular option.” Ranboo was saying. You turned your attention back towards him.

“Spicy burger sounds great, thank you.”

“And to drink?”

“Just a water, please.” You didn’t think you could handle alcohol after yesterday. Wow, you were a lightweight.

“Water?” Wilbur asked as Ranboo turned to prepare the ingredients for your burger. “That’s kinda lame.”

“Shush, you.” You retorted. “How are you holding up, anyway?”

Wilbur hesitated, and Nadia saw Ranboo glance at them curiously. He probably didn’t want to discuss his moment of weakness in front of his employee.

“The hangover, I mean.” You added. “With all the alcohol you consumed yesterday, I’m surprised you came to work.”

He relaxed a bit. “Yeah, I’m alright. Doing better than last night at least, but the headache’s a killer.” He frowned in mock offense. “And don’t you twist the story around! You drank almost as much as I did.”

You frowned. “I did not!”

“You did too. Alcoholic.”

“I am not an alcoholic. I’m not the one with three bottles of stolen vodka in a drawer.” You pointed out. Ranboo handed over your burger and water. “(Thank you, Ranboo.)”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Wilbur snorted. “You seem more of a wine person to me. You probably have a stash of Pinot noir under your bed or something.”

“Under my bed? Why the hell would anyone store alcohol under their bed?”

Wilbur shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s a wine aunt thing.”

“I give you wine aunt vibes?” You asked. “I don’t even have any nephews or nieces. Or have ever been responsible for any kids.”

“Thank god for that.”

You grinned and halfheartedly slapped his shoulder, ignoring his last statement “Silence, fool.”

Ranboo coughed. “Uhh… if you guys are done flirting… it’s my break now. Can I go across the street?”

Wilbur waved his hand. “Yeah, yeah, go ahead.” When Ranboo was out of earshot, he turned to Nadia and sighed. “Hypocrite. As if he isn’t heading to do the exact same thing.”

“Kids.” You shrugged, ignoring the part about the two of you flirting.

“He’s seventeen.”

“Still a child. Until he turns eighteen, he’s still a child.”

“Fair enough.” Wilbur stared off towards where Ranboo had run off to before turning back to you hesitantly. “So… since he probably won’t return for the rest of the day, how about you and I go somewhere? Together? You can finish your burger along the way.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Go where?”

“I-I don’t know.” Wilbur’s confidence seemed to falter, his metaphorical mask slipping and revealing the nervousness beneath. “Just… walk? In general? I-I know some nice places— or, well, I know that there are nice places around here-“

“Sounds nice.” You interrupted, placing a hand on his arm. “Should we go now, then?”

Wilbur froze. “Yeah. Now. Now sounds good.”

That’s it I’m done I can’t with this pacing

#sweaty “writes”#c!wilbur x reader #revived wilbur #revivedbur x reader #Sweaty Learn how normal people talk and write passable dialogue challenge: impossible #I communicate through clicks and body language like a cow I do not speak complex sentences #Hopefully the c!wilbur fandom is still alive #I’m on fucking deaths door here

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myalchod · 1 year ago

Note

Silrah + AU in which Farah's not killed but sent to Earth forgetting everything about the Otherworld

Another one that didn't come out the way I intended to, but I've been staring at it for long enough that I'm just gonna go with what I have at this point ...

1. It’s Sky who finds her, chasing a rumour that he hopes might be Bloom into the First World. He watches only long enough to be sure that she doesn’t know him — their eyes meeting across the expanse of parkland, the complete lack of recognition in hers — before returning to the Otherworld. “It’s her,” he tells them, sitting around the table that evening, and sees hope flare in the eyes of the man who raised him. “I know it’s her. But …” and that light fades as he continues.

2. Of course Saul goes. For her, he would always go; even if the rumour proves false, he would risk far more for the possibility that it’s his fairy out there. The bond between them has been dead since the day he’d been dragged to the Solarian prison over a year ago, leaving him certain that Rosalind had killed her, but as he watches the woman who could be her ghost, he feels, or imagines he does, something stir in his chest.

3. He doesn’t approach. At first it’s fear, because there’s a possibility that he’s wrong and this isn’t Farah, but when Musa accompanies him on his next scouting run, she confirms what he’s known in his gut from the moment he first set eyes on her. There’s such sympathy in her gaze that he has to look away, focussing instead on the clouds overhead, wondering if this is the same sky as they see in the Otherworld. The thought is less comforting than it should be.

4. They had talked, in the years after Aster Dell, about what it might be like to forget that day — if walking away from the past might let them find some measure of happiness once freed of its weight. Remembering those conversations, he tries to tell himself that he should stay away; she’s achieved that, and he has no right to wake the demons of the past for his own selfishness. And yet he comes back, again and again, because the pull remains too strong, and because his own nightmares persist and he needs to know she’s safe, she’s well, that at least one of them has broken free.

5. He thinks he’s been discreet, and so he’s entirely unprepared for the day she sits down on the bench beside him. “I don’t bite, you know,” she says without preamble, and as she smiles he’s struck yet again by the lightness of this woman, and the unfairness of bringing the weight of memory to crash down on her again. (And yet.)

6. If this was a First World fairy tale, that first brush of her lips against his would right everything once more. But he knows, better than most, that those tales hold little of reality, and so it is nothing more than a kiss.

[ ask me another ] [ all answers ]

#fate the winx saga #au headcanon meme #farah dowling #saul silva #silrah #au: canon divergence #asked and answered #charis writes #i'm so sorry #except not because of course not #(and also because i think anne will endorse pain for these two)#i wanted so badly to resolve it but i couldn't decide how #so there are at least three different possible endings in my notes somewhere

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fallen-in-dreams · 1 year ago

Text

CHAPTER EIGHT on AO3.

Chapters on Tumblr: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven.

Pairing: Gaara/Sakura.

Summary: Her descent into madness came after her friends were all dead and before she was sold off like livestock. To him. He knew a thing or two about madness. And there was peace to be found in the violence of that madness. Even if only for a time. Canon divergence AU.

Rated: Mature.

Chapter word count: 8,363.

Status: Ongoing.

Reminder: the tags/warnings are important.

Warnings: dark themes. Arranged marriage (not what you think). Eventual smut (level and degree of that warning being necessary is subjective). Death. Suicide talk. Self-harm. PTSD – expect some well-known symptoms and some not well-known ones. Please don’t read if you’re triggered by psychological &/or emotional-related trauma and effects.

Enjoy. ^_^

Tumblr version:

… Chapter Eight: In the Light of Day. ...

.:.

I was a stranger to myself A flicker, a memory I was a fragment, an empty shell 'Til you got a hold of me

-- Like You Mean It, by Ruelle

.:.

There were no more explosions. No more bursts of unpredictable fire. No more screaming. The initial panic had subsided.

In the light of the next day, smoke from the doused fire had an otherworldly quality to it. It looked harmless and non-pervasive. The dust and ashes of collapsed rooves, fallen stucco and broken supports littered the streets invaded the senses. She would not deny it excited her. This was horrible. But it was not the monotonous lifestyle she’d come to expect from being stuck here. It was different. This was something that tore apart her day and ripped a hole through her boredom. Things had to break for there to be something to fix. She was a healer. She needed an injury to mend. It fed the beast inside of her, the medic part.

The dead part.

At least, it was dead, until now. She still cared. Sakura could feel the pang. That pull to sympathy. The past two years hadn’t eradicated it entirely. This was a relief. But she still couldn’t feel too bad about the fires. Nobody had died and she had work to do. The people coming into the hospital needed attention. They needed fixing. She had a purpose again.

And the council can’t do a damn thing about it.

Gaara had overruled them. He had to. His words. This was an emergency. It stung a little, that her assistance came only when they were in dire need, but at least she was here. The Suna Hospital was not lacking in staff, but the search and rescue efforts required medics to accompany teams in case they found people in need of emergency healing, leaving the hospital short staffed. The damage had been widespread but not entirely catastrophic.

So, as long as she didn’t stop to wonder if the parties responsible were waiting to blow up the building she was in, Sakura could look at this as a win.

Sakura had not slept a wink since that sleep paralysis woke her up. She’d never experienced anything so terrifying before. Coffee couldn’t have made her wider awake after that scare. She needed something familiar to take up her time. Something she could do with her eyes closed and had less risk of setting off her anxiety.

The rest of the morning went swimmingly. An hour after Gaara had left with Kankuro, the redhead returned. While the sun began to peak over the horizon, he informed her that he’d had a word with the council and if she wanted to, Sakura would be welcomed at the hospital to help treat the incoming wounded.

He’d leaned in, whispered, “I trust you” in that deep voice of his.

Stay calm.

It made her heart swell. It sent the logical part of her brain into the abyss, letting her imagine all kinds of weird reasons he’d have for saying that. Her heart made her wonder if he was just being nice for the sake of it, or if he really wanted her to like him. To want him. To turn this fake engagement into something real. Whisper sweet words. Make provocative promises. Stare with those captivating eyes of his. Trick her into thinking he was the perfect man. Make all her wishes come true.

Gods. She was hopeless.

“Watch out!”

Sakura looked up from her work in time to watch as a genin crashed heavily into a wheeled medical bed being pushed by a chunin. Except the latter was dressed in the long-sleeved red robes and pale vest of the medical division while the former looked bedraggled enough to have just come from a bomb site. She had to suppress a chuckle at the sight. There was no patient on the bed but that just made these two idiots lucky, not defensible.

Watching an aging nurse as she reprimanded them, Sakura couldn’t help but think of Lady Tsunade and her infamous anger. Once upon a time it had been her in the crosshairs of a superior medic when she’d bumbled while moving the medical bed in a hurry. She smiled wistfully.

“Sakura?”

“Hm?”

“The fracture?”

She blinked heavily. Right, she was healing a hairline fracture on an elderly man when the commotion started. The civilian medic who’d brought her attention was looking at her funny. The woman had her hands on the patient in question, pursing her lips.

Stay calm.

“Sorry,” she said, and the man just nodded, wincing when she held her hands over his wound once more. Green chakra made quick work of the bone and she moved her hands away, clenching them against her lower back. She looked around. There was a long line behind the man, and she needed to hurry up down the line. Before her inactivity could draw any more attention to her, Sakura moved over to the next minor injury.

Minor, right.

Sometimes she wondered about the labelling system of other villages. Or even her own, these days. She took a deep breath to steel her nerves.

The next in line was a brown-haired young man with a gash that a civilian medic had wrapped tightly but without gauze or even any medical tape, clearly assuming he would receive chakra healing once someone got around to him. The man was staring at his bandage, a grimace marring his features as he pressed his muddied hands against the wound. She hoped that meant someone else had told him to do that and not that he’d had to figure it out for himself.

They’re run ragged right now, she reminded herself. They’re doing the best they can.

Their triage department had more patients than nurses. It wasn’t their fault. Pushing down her annoyance, Sakura stepped over to the man. He didn’t react. She grabbed the clipboard next to him on the emergency room chair; his triage chart had him at a Priority Two, colour coded with an ugly orange hue.

“Akihiko?” She asked, glad her voice sounded so professional at least. He finally looked up at her. Dark green eyes had watered slightly at the edges, but he nodded at her.

“Y-yes.”

A civilian nurse had written down his information and it was good to know. But Sakura was a chakra using medic. She didn’t need to confirm every point again. The chart claimed he’d been given pain killers. She just needed to infuse her healing chakra into him and move on. She considered those hastily scribbled words on the chart to be an order and put it back down.

Sakura put on an award-winning smile. “Let’s have a look at you, shall we?” she asked, and he released his hold on his leg when she moved closer before gently unwrapping the makeshift bandage. The wound had been cleaned, at least, by the look of it. Everything was ready.

Sakura removed the bandage and held her hands over the wound. “This will take a little bit,” she said, and started to focus.

Even these small healing sessions made her feel human again. As Sakura knitted muscle together and sewing nerves, she still couldn’t stop her mind from wandering. This man had a few burns on his arm and chest as well, but they weren’t bleeding out, so she intended to leave them until last.

She wondered how back the damage to Suna really was. No-one had died but she’d seen a few cases where the patient had to be placed in a medically induced coma. It was a few people who’d been found under debris that had almost crushed their lungs. Lucky for them, the team that found them had had a chakra healer and not a civilian one, on hand.

Gaara had been sure to tell her that this incident was being treated as subterfuge and not an all-out attack, which was why there’s been no more attacks since the initial onslaught. He’d said it so matter-of-factly she wondered if it was a regular thing. But surely if this happened every so often, the medical teams would be more prepared, right?

The fires had spread through a third of the civilian district causing no deaths, only cases of second and third degree burns and smoke inhalation. One man came in with the first batch of patients with a hairline fracture on his tibia sustained from searching rubble for his daughter. The five-year-old in question had been perfectly safe, which just left her father exhausted and more pained. But clearly happy.

Other than that, there was nothing serious to tend to for the first few hours, just gashes and follow-ups on healed patients. But Sakura had been keeping busy, following the instructions of the matron she’d been assigned to and performing her tasks diligently. None of Suna’s medics were trained ninja but a third of them could use chakra. Most had been deployed on site, however.

“There you go,” Sakura said confidently, and the brown-haired man winced under her hands as she removed her chakra from his leg. He didn’t complain, however. “Let’s check those burns.”

He let her remove his shirt. A salve had been rubbed into his skin and his upper torso bandaged. Sakura removed the wraps and inspected the marks before summoning her chakra again. This time, the man sighed into her treatment, like the painkillers had finally started kicking in. She could use a few of them herself.

Stay calm.

A composed but high-pitched voice nearby reminded Sakura of her ranking in this place. The matron. Or Sue Yagen, as she was called. She had no idea if the older woman was like a head nurse or doctor. She had a grandmotherly air about her, much like Tsunade. And despite being middle-aged. But Sakura wasn’t worried Sue was going to break a wall in frustration.

She also made Sakura wonder where Matsuri and Yukata were currently working, since it was unlikely that they could be spared for more wedding planning right now. Sakura finished her work on the man, and he bowed slightly, offering a pained, “thank-you” before wobbling to his feet and insisting he was fine to move.

The next was a woman with a hairline fracture and after her an elderly couple with superficial scratches.

Sakura worked in silence for most of it, feeling the energy that had gotten her through the morning begin to wane. It was almost nine o’clock now and she wondered if anyone would miss her if she ducked into the cafeteria. The noise around her was beginning to wear on her. She just needed a little time separate from the crowd.

Sakura finished off her line of patients and made a show of heading back to the beginning of the line, keeping her eyes on Sue while repeating stay calm to herself over and over. She ducked out of the room when the woman turned around and quickly headed over to the almost empty room. There was just a chunin who was reading a large medical tome, their eyebrows narrowed in confusion.

She made herself a coffee, musing on the fact that she didn’t feel guilty about ducking out. It took a few minutes to make her liquid caffeine, about five minutes to drink it and another few minutes to psyche herself up to heading back out. Really, she must be having a good day. So far, no breakdowns.

Sakura chalked it up to the fact that she’d missed working in hospitals. Her inner crazy was sleeping, content.

She spared a quick look for the tome-reading chunin, who was still looking anxious, before slipping back out into the chaos. The sound hit her on all fronts at once and she had to repeat her stay calm mantra again, but she avoided a panic attack. She glanced up at the clock.

Almost ten o’clock now. She could do this. Sakura had had longer and more chaotic mornings before.

But when Sue saw her, it all came crashing down. A fog of rushing water in her ears almost knocked her off-balance. The woman looked harried. She grabbed Sakura’s elbow gently and started urging her in a different direction altogether, but not unkindly.

“Sakura, dear. The rest of the wounded are being seen to. I need you in the children’s ward. There’s…”

The rest of what she was saying fell on deaf ears. Suddenly, she could hear them. They were moving closer. Or maybe she was moving towards them. Sue let go of her as someone drew her attention, clearly confident Sakura would stop and wait for her.

The sounds of children pierced her ears. There was a childcare centre in here, maybe not too far from the hospital greenhouses and perhaps an indoor recreation area that looked like a park. Sakura had heard it earlier but hadn’t paid much attention. Her mind was on other things. Like healing people. And pretending she was a person again. But now, the noise was rising in volume, like an oncoming storm. A thunderous reminder of something she’d lost. And painfully. Her heart started to race, and she clenched her fists.

No, no, no, no, no.

She inhaled sharply and closed her eyes for a moment, her heart hammering loudly in her ears.

Stop it.

Sue didn’t seem to notice, peering at the patient chart in her hands that someone had run over to hand to her. The middle-aged medic was one of the most studious working in the hospital, that Sakura had seen so far. Truly, dedicated to her work.

Stop having weird panic attacks or she’s going to think you’re a weirdo.

It had happened several times already; once upon entry to the hospital first thing in the morning, another time when she was helping a patient into a wheelchair, and again when her healing chakra had flared after a patient had gushed about being rescued from falling debris by the Kazekage.

This one makes the most sense though.

She didn’t need to hear the sounds of children playing. It reminded her of what could’ve been and what had been ripped away from her. Her almost-motherhood, she’d called it, when the blood had finally stopped gushing. But she had her autonomy now and needed to get a hold of herself. Gone were the days when she was a toy for the rich men that Danzo had sent her to seduce or kill. Yes. She had control over her own body now and these stupid panic attacks needed to fuck off already. She took a deep breath, hand on her heart, and tried to stop the images in her mind, groaning softly when that failed.

When it showed her how it happened.

Dead bodies. Burned beyond recognition. The putrid smell of decaying flesh. The pulsing in her womb as blood trickled down her legs. Her tear-stained face as she tried to rationalise her decision and the silent sobbing of her heart when she came to terms with what she’d done.

What I’d had to do.

What Danzo would’ve done anyway, if she’d returned to Konoha in that condition.

Fuck.

“You’re an idiot.”

Sakura forced herself to stand straight and glanced at her mirage. All morning she’d avoided seeing it. From the moment she left the Kazekage mansion until this panic attack there’d been blessed silence. And no matter how much she tried to wish it away, the thing wouldn’t leave. It just stared at her like she was some kind of dumb arse with a death wish.

“Lord Kazekage.”

That snapped Sakura out of it. She looked up so quickly her neck twisted painfully.

Gaara was striding through the room, from the direction of the main doors to the hospital. He seemed to be on a mission, sparing a curt nod toward Sue (whom Sakura was beginning to think was a bigger deal than the older lady had let on) and a slower nod to Sakura, his mouth softening into an almost smile, as he kept walking. Sakura watched him intensely before he disappeared.

They hadn’t talked about what she did to the almost-assassin. He seemed to just want to forget it. But Sakura wasn’t naïve enough to think that it would never come up at some point. That the council would just let it go. She was still waiting for the moment they dragged her into an interrogation room. As an ally (allegedly) it would be inappropriate, but Sakura had no illusions about how the official members of Suna’s hierarchy felt about her.

She didn’t want to talk about it.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Sue asked, snapping Sakura out of her musings, and shooing at her. “I said head into the children’s ward. It just needs a bit of tidying up. Give you something to do, dear.”

Did you really say that?

She couldn’t remember.

Sakura found herself following Gaara unintentionally. It seemed the children’s ward had been his destination all along. She’d heard talk of him visiting all the main sites affected by the fires in Suna, like he was a dignitary making rounds. It had to be a morale thing. She was sure his skills would be better put toward fixing structural problems. But obviously that was done now.

She lost sight of the redhead for a minute before stepping into the children’s ward. She inwardly groaned.

He’s talking to him.

Sakura had just met him that morning and already didn’t like the boy. Ryou was a volunteer in the children’s ward and a prideful boy of sixteen. A civilian with the ego of a genin fresh out of the academy. She’d seen him herd the wounded kids to the children’s ward hours ago, bossing them around like an older brother. They responded to him, even when only petulantly, and he won them over with a kind but no-nonsense attitude.

The one time she’d interacted with him had been an hour later when they’d both gone looking for the same supplies in the nurse’s station. Sakura felt uncomfortable around him immediately. The old version of her would appreciate his work ethic and dedication to the children, but the new her couldn’t get past the way he looked down his nose at her.

Staring at him now, she pursed her lips in disgust. He talked with Gaara like the redhead was just another person instead of his Kazekage, which Gaara didn’t seem to mind. Ryou even scowled at him a few times. But what they were talking about, she didn’t know. Not that it mattered. She didn’t want to approach them. Even if Gaara did hold her to higher esteem. Her nerves frayed just thinking about it.

Sakura did as Sue instructed and started clearing out the area, beginning in the area furthest from Gaara and Ryou. This was the library section with a small play area. It was a mess. She glanced over as Gaara left with the children and Ryou, to some outdoors area she wagered. The redhead spared her a light smile as he exited the room and Sakura glowered at the retreating group. Ryou scowled at her when he noticed, shook his head and left.

Fuck him.

Sakura worked in silence, moving toys and books off the floor. She tried not to think of the tiny hands that would play with these, lest her heart start to squeeze her in panic again. She wished this hadn’t been Sue’s only idea to the “what to make Sakura do now” question. She didn’t want to be here any more than Ryou wanted her to be.

Ugh. I could break both of his legs and drag him into the medical corps by the scruff of his neck.

That would be something for her to do. Never mind that he was only sixteen. Still a child, really. She didn’t care. When she was sixteen, Sakura had already endured worse just in training session with her shishou. She grinned maniacally at the thought of doing the same to him. Of putting him in his place.

An hour went by. It has passed in a series of dissociations in which she fantasised about Ryou’s gruesome death. Maybe it was the fault of the Cold War and the budget for the hospital was unimportant to the council, but the security in this hospital was a joke. Only the larger areas like the emergency room and highest floors of the building were under constant surveillance. Back when she was slipping through civilian defences to find targets that were hiding behind technology-based security systems, this place would have been easy to sneak into. Her genjutsu was perfect for this kind of mission. She’d have been in, found Ryou and wrung his fucking neck, and out in under fifteen minutes. Even with other shinobi around.

As long as they weren’t S-rank and adept at genjutsu themselves.

Then it would get increasingly more difficult and dangerous.

Sakura mused on it for the time it took her to finish her current task. But when she came out of her daydream, she was unsurprisingly and very quickly bored out of her mind. Deciding she’d had enough, Sakura left the playroom, heading in the same direction Gaara had left. The door at the other end led into a hallway, a small kitchen (and several gossiping nurses), and then opened up into an outside garden area. Her presumption had been correct.

There he is.

Ryou was nowhere to be seen, thankfully. But Gaara was still with the children, helping a few of them to build what looked like a fortified castle in the large sandpit. With his hands. She smiled at that. She leaned against the door and just watched them. Watched him.

If she hadn’t come to Suna under duress, Sakura might have entertained the idea of starting something with him. There was no longer anyone else she thought of when she touched herself. And she’d been doing that a lot lately. Inserting a little fun time with the Kazekage might get her way too much attention though, regardless.

I’m too fucked to fuck, anyway.

She sighed softly but the soft exhalation hadn’t been soft enough and pale green eyes scanned the area and quickly fell on her. He looked mildly surprised to see her but offered a genial smile, which she returned without thinking. Gaara turned back to the sandcastle at the prodding of the children.

Cute and good with kids.

She watched as Gaara continued to play with the children. She blinked heavily. Voices of children in the background. She was reminded of wistful thoughts she’d once had about what might have been. How differently her life could have gone. A more peaceful version of herself.

The world around her blurred and she fought down a groan. Hazy tendrils of light and blackness played across her vision. She blinked heavily but it wouldn’t go away. Sakura slumped down to the ground, still pressed against the door. Shaky and closing her eyes as the children doted on the Kazekage. They spoke and her mind homed in on them.

“It’s really pretty, Kazekage-sama.”

Blood everywhere. Streaking down her legs, her thighs. Caking her skin.

“More sand, please!”

Sharp, stabbing jolts of phantom electricity surging through her abdomen.

“My castle won’t stay up!”

Cramps. Painful, searing cramps that lingered for days.

“I wanna be strong and kind like you, Gaara-sama!”

She couldn’t stop the groans and gasps of pain. One hand on her stomach, one on her head. Nestling her head against the door frame like it was a lifeline. She didn’t hear the footsteps approaching.

“Sakura?”

The deep, familiar husky voice broke through the cracks in her memory. But it was a welcomed one. She attempted to exhale, her breath coming out shaky and ragged.

“Sakura?”

Warm hands encasing hers. Fingers stroking her skin. Minutes passed. Sakura blinked heavily. Her vision cleared and her tremors receded. She took a deep breath, unable to summon the energy to be embarrassed that Gaara had seen her panic attack. If anyone understood, it was him, right? It was a new level of self-awareness and just not giving a shit. Maybe she just wanted him to see her.

Sakura took a chance and gripped his hand firmly. He didn’t flinch or hesitate, returning the gentle squeeze. She couldn’t look him in the eye, however, lowering her head further. So, her mind wondered. Was he looking at her? And why did she care? She took a deep breath and thought about pulling away. The Kazekage was crouching in front of her, holding her hand, waiting out her panic attack. How odd did they look?

She had a fleeting concern about the children. Small mouths spread words fast.

“Sakura?”

His deep voice drew her eyes to him. Sakura blinked slowly. “Huh?”

He tugged on her gently and she let him help her to her feet. She trembled. He still hadn’t let go of her hand. Wait, what was he asking?

Gaara was addressing her again, a concerned look on his face. “Are you well?”

Loaded question.

She just nodded. Her skin was flushed and tingled. It was clear she was lying. But she kept the fake smile plastered to her face, willing him to understand. He got the hint and finally nodded back. But she saw the worry etched along his face. The way he hesitated to leave her behind when the children called for him. He wanted to say more and almost did. It was all over his face and in his body language as he reluctantly walked back to them, glancing at the pinkette a few times.

She kept the smile on her face, hugging herself and leaning against the door frame again. Gaara was full of surprises. Sakura, meanwhile, was having an epiphany.

He went back to the kids. Sakura went back to the emergency room. Nobody mentioned that she’d been gone for over an hour. She wouldn’t care if they did. She slipped into autopilot as Sue piled more work on her. Small things that were usually only dumped on genin or untrustworthy foreigners. Innocuous tasks. But important all the same. She did them all without complaining. And without really paying attention to what she was doing. They occupied her for the rest of the morning.

There was only one thing on her mind that mattered to her right now: how Gaara had been towards her. And how her heart raced just remembering it.

He sees me.

.:.

She had to escape.

There was no panic in her steps, no rush to her movements. She just knew, unequivocally, that she had to leave the medical corps. Finally. There was still work to do but it wasn’t important. It was boring. And the tedium was driving her insane. Gaara had likely left already too. It had been a couple of hours since she’d seen him. Maybe more. Maybe less.

Of course, he’s gone by now.

Sakura slipped out of the empty, tiny office she’d been stuck in for the last forty minutes. She hadn’t brought a bag with her when she arrived in the hospital, first thing in the morning, but Sakura found herself seeking out the nurse’s station as though she had. Behind the station was a small supply closet, less stocked than the ones on the main levels but stocked enough. Her feet moved in that direction.

Who’s actually in control of me, really?

Finding the nurse’s station empty, Sakura slipped into the supply closet and closed the door behind herself, breathing a deep sigh of relief. She needed to escape the strange looks and judgement. Some people were praising her work, making her nostalgic for the days when that wasn’t a rarity, and other people were treating her like she was an alien from another planet.

It’s too much.

After her panic attack in front of Gaara, Sakura was done. But first she needed to get her heart rate under control. She leaned back against the door, not caring that if someone opened it, she’d fall arse over tit. It was surprisingly comfortable as she counted her breaths, feeling her pulse. A few minutes and she was no longer shaking. But now she had a new problem.

Voices. A man and a woman. Unfamiliar and from the sounds of it, taking up positions in the nurse’s station.

Shit.

Sakura moved away from the door, grateful that even the chakra wielders of the medical corps didn’t seem to have any sensory ability. Even comparable to her own pathetic skills. They continued talking as though they were alone. They started referencing “that foreign medic” and it didn’t take a genius to realise who they were talking about.

“Sakura Haruno?”

“She’s a quiet one, that one.”

“She’s been under Danzo’s thumb, give her a break.”

“Lord Danzo.”

A scoff. “I hear his dark Anbu squad are all minors, like it’s a fetish.”

“He’s creepy.”

“I know, right?”

“I heard he rounds up the kunoichi every week and personally inspects them.”

“Eew!”

“Think he takes some—”

“Gross! He’s like, a hundred years old!”

They continued back and forth until the man left, and Sakura bounced on the heels of her feet impatiently. She didn’t care what they had to say. They didn’t matter. She just needed to get out.

Do I have a jutsu for this?

Genjutsu. Yes. But if someone else happened by while she was sneaking out, she could get spotted. And there was no exit plan for her escape from the village. Unlike her previous missions, she’d have to come back here and act like nothing happened. The risk was too great. She waited a few more minutes but the nurse’s humming indicated she wasn’t going anywhere any time soon. This was just fucking great.

She sighed softly and turned around.

I’m in a medical supply closet.

It hadn’t really hit her until now, to take advantage of this. She smiled. Sakura searched the lines of drugs and supplies with her eyes. Most of the drugs were of no use to her or out of stock and she had no need for the medical tape or alcohol pads. Or the limited variety of stationary supplies.

She stepped forward and squinted at some of the labels. One of them in particular caught her eye.

Prazosin.

Sakura reached up and carefully grabbed a bottle, turning it over in her hand thoughtfully. Prazosin was a medicine typically prescribed for high blood pressure, but it could also be used to combat nightmares. Reducing the severity and frequency. This had potential.

I need it.

Sakura knew she shouldn’t be self-prescribing (or stealing) like this but she was desperate. She hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep since she got here. Suna might have been an easier pill to swallow than she’d initially thought, but left alone with only her warped mind for company, she was going to go insane.

Even more than I already have.

For high blood pressure, the maximum dose would normally be about one milligram capsules, two or three times a day. That would be three milligrams in one go if she swallowed all three and she figured it was a bit much for a first dose so Sakura dry-swallowed a single pill.

There was nowhere on her person to put the bottle in that wouldn’t look suspicious when she walked out. There were, however, resealable bags on the bottom shelf that were small enough to fit in her bra. She fiddled with her clothing, puffing up her breasts to accommodate for the extra packaging. There was no way anyone was going to look at those things if she exited the supply closet.

When I exit the supply closet.

There was no way to guarantee that she would be able to return to the hospital, but she couldn’t risk stealing anything else. The security might be lax right now, but that could just be coincidental. She knew what the security was typically like at a medical corps, as well as the punishment for being caught thieving. The Prazosin would have to do for now.

Sakura pressed her ear against the door and waited.

Should I just go now or wait? She had no idea. The clock above the wall said it was almost midday so she decided to stand and watch the big hand to hit the two. When it did, the nurse made a shuffling sound, giving a long sigh. The woman groaned a few times, like she was doing stretches and pushed her chair back. Sakura continued to listen but the click clack of the woman’s shoes moving away was all she needed to hear.

She tentatively pushed on the door and let out a sigh of her own when the nurse’s station looked empty. She closed the door and made to leave, pausing when she noticed something sticking out from underneath the desk. She almost laughed out loud. It was a dirty magazine.

She fingered the magazine, smiling. That was the silver lining of her crazy mind. Her libido was strong. She had been self-recreating more often since her arrival at Suna. Old Sakura was a closet pervert. New Sakura might not be shouting her perversion to the rooftops, but she had come to terms with it internally, at least. Men dressed in barely anything. Men not dressed at all. She flicked through it quickly before putting it back. Unfortunately, she had no way to smuggle that out of the hospital.

I wonder if there are any in Temari’s room.

The idea of sneaking into the bedroom and stealing things from a woman who may or may not be dead felt wrong. But the magazine was putting idea in her head now, and Sakura needed something. She was currently living with two men who were very easy on the eyes. One more than the other, in her opinion. She needed a little distraction.

Something to take the edge off.

An ink bottle caught her eye, reminding Sakura that she hadn’t done anything with her version of Sai’s ink jutsu in a few days. She’d made her decision to perfect the ink bird and have it scout out the boundary of the village and needed to keep that promise to herself. If nothing else, it was something to do.

I’ve been so distracted lately.

There was nothing else she felt confident trying to steal. She couldn’t spot any cameras but there would definitely be a live feed once she stepped back into the emergency room, which just so happened to be on her way out.

I have to get out.

Resolved, Sakura left the nurse’s station and searched for Sue to let her know she was leaving.

I have more important things to do.

.:.

“It’s too dangerous!”

“A kunoichi with a weapon. Right.”

“You scoff now, Lord Baki, but wait until–”

“Sakura Haruno is here as our guest,” Gaara reminded the councillors. “At your behest, no less.”

“That may be, Lord Kazekage,” Sajō said, “but we cannot allow this. She is no longer a kunoichi. She is your future wife. Ninja weapons do not belong in non-ninja hands.”

“Are you punishing her for killing that assassin?” Kankuro snapped.

“Kankuro.” Gaara understood his brother’s stance. He had been wondering this himself. Why do this now? The council had been informed about the would-be-assassin immediately. But only recently had he decided to inform them who it was that had killed him. And now, they’d pried the existence of an uncatalogued kunai that nobody had retrieved from her. They were so determined to have every weapon in Suna under some kind of surveillance. Even Gaara’s family training grounds had been stripped when this Cold War had escalated.

It was so opportunistic and conniving to be making a big deal of this, but that was politicians for you.

They bickered a few more times. Gaara could easily pull rank on them. He wanted to. And he noticed Ebizō watching him intently, like he was waiting for the Kazekage to do just that. Debating the pros and cons of whether or not to anger the rest of the council on such a matter, Gaara had no idea if it was even worth it. If he knew how Sakura would respond, he could use that help balance his yes or no dilemma.

The council room felt extremely confining and stuffy all of a sudden.

“We are still waiting the return of Lady Temari and her team, you recall.”

The mention of his sister brought Gaara’s attention back to the meeting. They couldn’t have finished bickering already. But this was likely a momentary reprieve from the discussion at hand. He needed to pay attention.

“She will be fine.”

Please be fine. Gaara didn’t know what he would do if she never returned. If she became another statistic on a scroll that the lead medical examiner in the Suna Pathology Lab sent to him to read. He would not be able to handle that.

“What was she even thinking, leaving the village?”

“She wanted to help.”

“The Kazekage clan should be holed up behind the walls during this time of strife, not out fighting and potentially getting killed.”

Gaara swallowed heavily.

“This is all well and good, gentlemen,” Ebizō said, “but let’s get back to the topic at hand.”

Gaara had no idea which one of those options he hated more.

“Yes, yes. We need to disarm the Leaf kunoichi.”

Kankuro scoffed. “I thought she wasn’t a kunoichi anymore.”

Grumbles of “disrespectful” and “how dare you” rolled off Kankuro’s back as he glared right back at them. The only thing keeping him from being forcibly removed from the room was his position as the Kazekage’s brother.

“With that Root member lurking about, we don’t need any more problems.”

“It was your idea to have him lurking about in the first place.”

Dear Kami, Kankuro.

The outraged reply was white noise in Gaara’s head. He stood suddenly and the room went quiet.

“I will deal with it,” he said gruffly, then summoned his sand and teleported out.

.:.

Sakura was nowhere to be found.

The memory of her panic attack had him worried. Surely her day in the hospital had improved. He could still feel the warmth of her hand on his when he helped her through those moments. But when Gaara decided to search the hospital first the head matron, Sue, informed him the pinkette had been gone since lunchtime. Sakura wasn’t exactly a social butterfly these days so he presumed she’d returned to the Kazekage mansion.

As the sun set behind him, Gaara re-entered his home much earlier than his normal office day would allow. He couldn’t sense her at first, reminded of how her chakra often seemed to elude him, like she’d trained herself to suppress it autonomously.

There she is.

Sakura was walking down the internal staircase. He moved past the library and stilled at the sight of her. She was smiling at him but Gaara’s eyes were drawn to something else. Her nightdress (or whatever it was called, he didn’t know) was simple but hugged her nicely. Snugly. But not skin tight. Her legs and arms were bare and toned. He licked his lips, his eyes trailing her greedily.

Where did she get the nightdress?

Sakura ran her hands down the front of the nightdress, further drawing his eyes to the shape of her body. He swallowed heavily.

“I hope you don’t mind,” she said. “I found it in a hallway closet and I presume it’s Temari’s.”

Gaara nodded, not knowing what else to do. She looked amazing. He couldn’t stop noticing how it complimented her figure.

She has filled out nicely since returning to Suna.

Gaara cleared his throat. Well, she hadn’t looked very healthy that day on her arrival to Suna, so it was clear she’d been underfed. And there was always plenty of food in the fridge so the one thing Sakura wouldn’t be able to complain about was starvation, even with Kankuro around. His brother’s appetite rivalled Naruto’s at times.

How long does it typically take for someone to regain their natural, healthy glow?

He sighed.

“So…” Sakura stepped toward him and he stiffened slightly. “I was coming downstairs to get some icecream. Want to share?”

She didn’t wait for an answer and Gaara followed her quietly as she found the freezer and started rummaging through it, looking for the perfect icecream no doubt. The unstable woman from earlier that day, who’d been clearly having a panic attack, was gone. And a far cry from the confident kunoichi in front of him. She was holding herself different too. His body was reacting. Gaara unconsciously licked his lips.

Sakura pulled out a tub of icecream and grabbed a couple of spoons, running them under hot water for good measure. The flavour she’d chosen was one of Gaara’s favourites: kinako (roasted soybean flavour) which went great with black honey. He didn’t have a sweet tooth but this was one of the few exceptions. And a staple of his family. His mother had (allegedly) loved it, and so did his siblings. He had no idea what his father had thought of it.

The clang of the spoons as Sakura wrestled them out of the drawer reminded him of the twang of steel. Of kunai. He needed to bring up the subject of the kunai but also really wanted a bite of that ice cream. Gaara accepted the spoon and moved to stand adjacent to her at the island in the middle of the kitchen. They leaned over and started eating. Sakura let out a few soft moans as she ate, immersed. He watched her out of the corner of his eye.

They ate quietly for five minutes before Gaara pulled away from the tub, twirling the spoon in his hand thoughtfully. Still watching her. Then he dug back in, mostly to distract himself from the noises she was making.

Is she aware how erotic she sounds?

He couldn’t tell.

Gaara was determined to nip this in the butt before he got too worked up over something he couldn’t have. He cleared his throat and moved away, putting his spoon in the sink, to stop himself from eating anymore. He needed to bring up the kunai with her. But he couldn’t think of a way to segway into that conversation.

Sakura pulled away as well, now looking at him with a thoughtful smile. “The children at the hospital really like you.”

He nodded. “They are orphans.” His heart clenched at the memory of their faces and Sakura inhaled sharply. He was actually thinking of adopting one of them. Several had shown promise in ninjutsu and he could imagine himself raising a child that could even one day succeed him as Kazekage. But there was a niggling feeling that told him it would be unfair to adopt for that purpose. He wanted to form a bond, not just adopt a student. He didn’t want to turn into his father.

Gaara had slowly come around the idea of being a father one day, but that normally came with romantic entanglements – something he’d never been a fan of. If things could work out with someone he actually respected, like Sakura, it would solve all his concerns about that. Relationships were never easy, of course. He just wanted the people in his life to feel like they were worth it. Having a girlfriend or wife just for the sake of it wasn’t an enticing prospect for him. And he’d be the first to admit that sexual attraction, while a fascinating reaction he did indeed possess, was even less important to him than having a real connection with someone.

The topic required more contemplation on his part.

“How… how is the repair work going? I mean, after the fires.”

Gaara was not expecting that question. “Well enough,” he said and she nodded, her face pensive. He continued. “Most of the structures that were affected are salvageable but a few need rebuilding from the ground up. I’m sure you’re aware of the current climate and the state of inter-village interations.” She nodded again. He probably shouldn’t be telling her this, but found he didn’t care. “This is just another stunt from enemies who are annoyed at us for some reason or another. Closing off Suna’s borders, in this climate, would be seen as an intention of war, bringing all matter of chaos down on us.” He frowned, staring at the wall for a moment. “So sometimes a visitor goes unseen around the village because we cannot spare enough eyes to watch every new occupant. We must seem to be running the village as we always have. Any change would draw the wrong eyes.” He sighed. “It is unfortunate that inter-village relations have regressed to this point.”

He might as well have just said, “Danzo’s spies would take their observations of our goings on to report these as valuable secrets to other nations”. He couldn’t let Suna appear weak, in this current climate. In any climate.

Sakura continued to nod her head as though it was the answer to all their problems. She seemed to understand.

It had been decades since relations between villages were as bad as it was now. The Third Great Shinobi War had been devastating and it was only an armistace between Konoha and Iwa that finally ended it. The Leaf earned the respect as the nation that had come out on top. That war had started with skirmishes along borders, a lot like the war the nations currently found themselves embroiled in. Except for the fact that the skirmishes weren’t being officially recognised.

Time will undoubtedly change that. If nothing could be done to prevent it.

Short of a miracle, it was inevitable at this point.

“I remember a few incursions back in Konoha,” she said, and it was his turn to nod along. She spun the spoon in her hand absentmindedly. “I lost....” She cleared her throat. “Fires in a village whose specialty is fire was a really ironic move.” She seemed lost in thought now, a haunted look on her face. “Maybe they thought there wouldn’t be enough water jutsu to put the flames out. Stupid, really.”

He agreed with that. It would be like this recent sabateour attacking with wind or sand, given Suna’s natural inclinations. These would be easily combated by sand shinobi. But this topic was the perfect excuse for what he’d really come here to say.

“Appearances are important,” he stalled. He frowned at himself before looking Sakura dead in the eye. “The council know you have an unregistered kunai.”

Sakura stiffened, narrowing her eyes at him.

He didn’t want to keep talking, but he continued. “They have demanded it be turned over to them.”

No reaction. Not for all of five seconds. Then she growled. She threw the spoon at the sink. Not into it, but at. It startled him and Gaara almost took a step backward. Almost.

“No, they can’t have it. It’s mine.”

Her voice trembled with every syllable. She pursed her lips, her chakra flaring.

“I killed him,” she said, her voice croaky. “It’s mine.”

“Sak—”

She cut him off with a strangled, sudden sob. “I always do that. It’s all my fault.”

The shift from angry to devastated and then crying gave him whiplash. Her eyes shone with tears and a weight settled in the pit of Gaara’s stomach. He shouldn’t have done this. He should have just told the council where to stick it. A single kunoichi with a kunai in a village of armed ninja? No threat. Even if she did avail herself of the training grounds that he’d offered her. And the kunai was not from a Suna shinobi. Technically, they had no right to confiscate it. Not unless it had been used to attack one of their own ninja. And it was very clear they didn’t consider Sakura to be anything like that.

I’ll tell them off later.

Sakura let out a sob and he moved forward to catch her when she fell; they sank to the floor in a heap. She didn’t push him away, digging her face into his chest as she cried openly. She fisted his shirt, pressing herself against him almost intimately. The reality of her bare legs and arms came crashing down on him. He tried to be respectful but their positions on the floor made it hard to hold any part of her that was clothed. The only silver lining was that their legs were not entangled. If his knee moved even a few inches to the left, gravity would kick in and without interference, his knee would slip between her legs easily.

Gaara closed his eyes and turned his face from her, trying to push out those thoughts. Her body was warm and heavy against his. It was more intimacy than he’d gotten in a long time. But even though he knew he should move them into a less scandalous arrangement, Gaara didn’t want to. His arms encircled her. He wanted to support her. To comfort her. They’d spoken so many times and yet said so little to each other. There was a dull ache in his chest that wanted to change that.

She hiccupped. “I’m s-so sorry, G-Gaara.”

He pulled her tighter. “It’s not your fault.”

“I’m so f-fucked up. You deserve better.”

Had she ever sworn before? He’d never heard her. It sounded so unnatural coming out of her mouth. And there was no honest way to respond to her confession that would actually make her feel better, so he fell silent. He just continued to hold her closely. The warmth of her, the scent; he breathed it in. Her bare legs pulled up against his and he no longer had to worry about accidentally parting them. He relaxed further into their mutual embrace.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he whispered, not knowing what else to say. “You can keep the kunai.”

.:.

#GaaSaku #fanfiction #my fanfiction #A Beautiful Lie

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yallemagne · 2 years ago

Text

I dunno if I'm gonna include citations because I can't. I just. Don't make me read Harry's words.

DROSIAN SORId DORINA

DORIAN finally has thoughts of his own-- and yeah, his first draft was shitty-- but he feels remorse for his cruel words and lack of sympathy and the desire to make right by Sibyl. Now, too little too late, but it's a sign of humanity. And we don't exactly know whether he actually does want to do the right thing or if he's so scared of the possibility that his cruelty makes him a bad person that he's just doing whatever he can to repent. He does say to Henry that he's afraid he isn't feeling as bad as he should, but that's a natural response to death. He's in shock and has not had much time to process, and if Sibyl died for her grief then what is he to do??

Either fucking way, Henry sees Dorian's first thoughts and PISSES ALL OVER THEM. Henry sees Dorian feeling remorse and says BLAH I WOULD KILL TO HAVE SOMEONE DIE FOR ME. (Dorian's portrait is noting that down for later /j.)

He isn't comforting Dorian, he's just saying "You're FINE. You're blameless. It's fucking good that the bitch died. Honestly, it's poetic. Women love being abused, why else would they take it? I wish someone would die because of me, then I'd have a reason to love." Henry, I wish you'd die for me, choking on your own dick, you massive bitch. You absolute stain of a man.

This is the part where it is Henry's fault. Dorian is so willing to accept whatever makes him a good person, and he's having a (slightly) older man tell him that he doesn't need to feel bad for anything, that it's just good that there's nothing linking him to the death or else he'd be suspected as a murderer. Dorian was so willing to marry Sibyl and keep his promise, but he learns "oh, she's dead? oh, I wouldn't have needed to apologize even if she had lived? that makes it so much easier! I'm still a good person!"

Wilde should have fuckin given Sibyl two gay dads and just had her live like I asked. It wouldn't make the book... inherently better... but I'd be less angry.

Also, tiny lil footnote, but the foreshadowing--

Was it all true? Had the portrait really changed? Or had it been simply his own imagination that had made him see a look of evil where there had been a look of joy? Surely a painted canvas could not alter? The thing was absurd. It would serve as a tale to tell Basil some day. It would make him smile.

--has got me FUCKED UP.

#if I don't see an influx of sibyl lives fics in the next few days #I'm gonna lose it #what 'it' is or the severity of the loss? I DUNNO #but it will be lost #the picture of dorian gray #dorian gray weekly #dorian gray #lord henry wotton

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goose-mk · 6 months ago

Text

(The prolog was based on this song!)

Prolog: Winding Nights

The air seemed cold, seemingly so chilling that the dead under the soil seemed to shiver with each blowing wind from the snowy night.

A boy marked with the tattoos of a criminal seemed to have the right to be stuck in the snow in the eyes of passerby, who would aide the boy marked with the cursed marks of treason and death?

To be the fool to disregard the marks, the ones of death too.

Yet this boy seemed to prevail, this small feeble and well versed boy with the streets, a small bag to only claim as his own besides the skeleton mask on his face and the thin cloak on his back. He was marked as a criminal, no matter even if it wasn't needed. A boy of this sorts should need no help of course. Alike a dark cloud of smoke, a familiar dear of the night and the pest to those within the light. The boy has found his new prey, only it seems this home seems to be very welcoming... ...Warm... perhaps a little more? One can hope or wish, in his case a wish.

"Let's see, there shouldn't be anyone home. Only an old guy, no traps...? Odd, seems he is too eager for the world to enter through his door."

The boy creeped up to the door, slowlyturning the handle to only end up snared like a simple animal caught for game. He began to struggle, seems this old man was brighter than he originally thought. He'd continue to wriggle around, now successfully taking ahold of his dagger before he saw a shadow of a gruff figure emerge from the door that seemed so welcoming and warm, to see an old battered and stone faced man. Without warning the man took ahold of the net the boy was trapped in, only thinking with his fighting instincts the boy instinctively kicked the older man's face. Only to become shocked that the man only slightly stumbled, but held the net on tight as he rubbed his nose.

"What's a muskrat like you doing trying to rob my house? One desperate enough to find the taste of death so eagerly?"

The man took a pause, fully accounting the details of the boy infront of him.

"You're just a mere child... What are you even doing out here? It's too cold and late for someone as young as you to be like this."

The gruff man's tone began to shift of one of indifference and sympathy.

"Your so small for a boy."

"What is it to you anyways, I was just about to rob your house!" The boy huffed

Seemingly at a slight ease before being picked up by the scruff, lifted out of the net like a stray cat in an alleyway.

"Come, no child should be out here. You are all but too weak for this weather, not all too well suited for it."

The boy stayed silent, not all too welcoming to the thought of angering the man and complied as man sat the boy in his rocking chair with a blanket and some rations.

"Eat, your all too small. A shame."

The boy stared at the man, shocked and hesitant. For all this boy could think this was a ruse, a trick, a cruel prank, a thing that would be a thing the man would ask for something sinister in trade for this shelter.

"What do you want from me? Why are you helping me, and what is your gain from this?"

The boy questioned, digging into the man's mind for answers for this out of the blue empathy and kindness that even other adults seem to lack. An absolute failure.

"No child should have to endure what you're seemingly going through. I can only imagine what could've truly happened to you for you to end up in my trap, in the middle of the night, boy."

The man sighed, now squatting down infront of the boy to stop looming over him.

"Where are your parents, they must be waiting for you to get home no?"

His accent was thick, Greek, Austrian maybe? It's hard to put down.

"Don't have any." The boy mumbled.

"Ah... My apologies for asking then."

The man stood up, now slowly backing up and grabbed a bag. Packing it with rations, a bag of coins, and a cloak.

"Whenever your ready to leave the doors open of course."

The man turned around as the chime of the grandfather clock rung through the house to see the boy passed out, asleep.

"Poor thing, let's get you to bed."

The man would gently pick up the boy, climbing up the steps as each one creaked from wear over the years. Then finally sat him in the bed, setting the bag on the table in front of the bed. Finally, the night seemed to envelop the home and blanket the people within the home a peaceful slumber.

The morning slipped through the cracks of the window, awaking the small boy fromthe bed. A slight panic settled in his heart as he sat up, unfamiliar with the place the boy checked the place and spotted the man, asleep in the rocking chair in front of the fireplace, and next to his only exit. The front door, what a wonderful sight to see as a lad on the streets taken in by a gruff and cold man during the snowy night. Now taking a good look at the man as he made his way down, the man had long dark brown hair littered with bold pieces, and Cream colored streaks and a thick beard, his ears long with elvish nature, the man's clothing loose and considered undone. The man's skin seemingly becoming brighter as the sun hit his cool almond skin, with some scars making their appearance, seemingly littered all over him.

"Gods what did this man do, fight a bear?" The boy questioned himself quietly before sneaking around and retrieving his things, then saw the bag. Curious, the boy grabbed it and made his was to the door. Unfortunately there was a muscle tank blocking the door.

"Where are you going, boy?"

"I'm going back to where I came..."

"That's it?"

"Yes, can I go now?"

"You can, just be careful. Someone of your age should worry about where they lay their head to rest, you understand, boy?"

The boy nodded, and the man moved out of the way. Not even a second after the child ran out the door, without the second glance, the man shut the door. Knowing well that he most likely scared the boy off for good, he'd settle back into his rocking chair. Humming a melody that this home knew before, before drifting off. A melody such as this has its own dark path. As all melodies are sweet, the sweetest happen to weep when heeded apon by another.

#oc writing #oc #oc art #original story #writing #i think i ate a rock while writing this #help me it was a rock #dude im dying #artwork #artists on tumblr #digital art #Spotify

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doodle17 · 1 year ago

Note

Dion song associations - lightning round!

"Line Without a Hook" By Ricky Montgomery; water themings and longing vibes made me just kinda latch this song onto Dion for no real reason. it vibes.

"The Kids Aren't Alright" by Fallout Boy; this one vibes so hard actually. I don't have an infodump as to why it's connected I just think the refrain fits Dion pretty well.

"Semi-Automatic" by 21 Pilots. "The family will be better off when YOU'RE out!" Dion you mean little bitch. You mean little asshole I am going to crumple you like a piece of paper. Oughhhh

"Dazed & Confused" by Ruel is such a HUGE Dion/Gisu song to me. Just. Dion grappling with his bigotry and what Gisu's actually like,,, the BRIDGE oh my godddddd this is. You get the vibes right

"Painkiller" by Ruel. idk man something about the vibes. The slow dance feeling of this song. The "Heartbreaks, headaches / the doctor says I'm diagnosed with / shit days, mistakes / but I'll be fine." Do you get my vision do you feel the vibes.

"Wrecking Ball" by Mother Mother. Just. Dion making these awful little mistakes that hurt his loved ones because she's an emotionally repressed teenager with Issues. Feeling remorse over how she's not as good an older sibling as she wants to be. hhhhhhh

"Trampoline" by The Front Bottoms. Dion & Frazie reconnecting after the events of the games vibes, after the psychophobia and secrets and adolescent stresses pushed them apart.

"I Like Me Better" by Lauv. Kind of a joke one but like. Dion/Gisu Dion/Gisu Dion/Gisu Dion/Gisu Dion/Gisu. I am a sappy little romantic at heart and I very much love the idea of these two being able to be happy together.

"Turn Off the Lights" by Panic! At the Disco. This is mostly a vibes one but also "Our consciences are always heavier than our egos / I set my expectations high / so nothing ever comes out right" and "So I'm taking every chance I got / like the man I know I'm not" and "I need a little sympathy / disarm my insecurities" LIKE DO YOU SEE IT. DO YOU SEE MY VISION

"Forest" by 21 Pilots. Something about these lyrics just,,,, I might have to do a full infodump on the vibes I get and the animatic I imagine but stuff like "I don't want to be heard / I want to be listened to" and "I took some food for thought / it might be poisoned / the stomach in my brain / throws up onto the page" and like. The whole bridge but especially "Something happened to my imagination / this situation's becoming dire / my treehouse is on fire / and for some reason I smell gas on my hands" and Dion growing up too fast because of her parentification. I just. I just. oughhh

"I/Me/Myself" by Will Wood; GENDERFLUID DION GENDERFLUID DION GENDERFLUID DION

"Be Nice to Me" by The Front Bottoms. This is also a "Raz is babey and tired after the games" song to me but like. It also vibes to Dion so so well, like just "There are certain things you ask of me / and there are certain things I'll lack / the beginning we were winning / now I'm just making up facts" and "I try to write you poems, but the words they don't make sense / The hand tries to grip the pencil, but the fingers are too tense / I try to show emotion, but my eyes won't seem to wet / I'd love to tell you stories, but I can't remember how they went" and then just. "I think you're changing / Don't worry you don't gotta stay the same" and Dion slowly coming around to everything that's happened, to Raz' embracing of his powers. I just. Yeah this is a huge song for the Aquatos in general but Dion brainrot go brrrr

"Glowing Eyes" by 21 Pilots; this is a vibes one but like. Dion having to work through their issues.

"Trapped in the Thought of Free" by Faith Marie. No I have no idea how to explain it but it vibes I swear. Dion would listen to this unironically and also it vibes with his character trust me

"prom queen" by beach bunny. You can't tell me this song doesn't vibe with Dion Aquato I will not hear it. I'm too busy having fun with the knowledge that this song vibes with Dion Aquato and he would unironically listen to this.

"Way Less Sad" by AJR. Yeah it's really easy to make AJR songs vibe but like. This one definitely vibes with Dion. She's getting better but it's slow. It's not an easy process.

"Prom Dress" by Mxmtoon. Do you see my vision. Do you see it. "I keep collections / of masks upon my wall / to keep myself from / revealing it all / upsetting others is the last thing I would do / I keep to myself though I want to break through" and "I'm sitting here / crying in my prom dress / I'd be the prom queen / if crying was a contest / makeup is running down / feelings are all around / how did I get here / I need to know" DO YOU SEE MY VISION. DO YOU SEE THE VIBES

"Demons & Angels" by Marina. Another vibes one but trust me it fits I swear. "Try to change / but I can't get a grip / wondering if I was born like this" and just. the entire fucking song are you getting these vibes

"World's Smallest Violin" by AJR. I think about that ending bit so much. I think about it and my Dion brain ideas so much. And like. Yeah Dion's got issues but so does the whole family!! So Dion feeling like his issues are small and unimportant in comparison to everyone else's but still needing to vent. mm

"MANiCURE" by Lady Gaga. Again this is both vibes and "Dion would listen to this and enjoy it. Dion would sing this to themself under their breath while working" and I am RIGHT.

"Sorry About Your Parents" by Icon For Hire. This is another vibes one, mostly the whole vibe of "yeah shit sucks but you can't just lay around crying about it because that's no way to live" and how that fits Dion in my mind. Also the song is a bop.

"Pieces" by Icon for Hire because yes. This fits Dion so so well oh my godddddd like just. "You can fight just like you've been taught / it won't undo the life you've got / Cause the pieces won't pick up themselves you know" and "You're not running just enough of a wreck / to hold the hurt heart everybody expects" and I'm going to explode this is such a Dion song to me AUGH

"Venom" by Icon for Hire. Yes I know I just put down three Icon songs in a row I'm going in the order of my playlist. Anyway. "Misery, Misery is the venom in my brain" and "Don't meet their eyes, it's hypnotic / make you forget that it's toxic / caught up in all the chaotic / sold you a lie and you bought it" and "I can't tell if it's real though / Don't know if it's lethal / did we drink the poison / or just a placebo?" and "Don't look down / you won't get far / you're only as strong as you think you are" and this is a Dion song. Yes I know I didn't explain it well but you gotta trust me on this.

"Allies or Enemies" by The Crane Wives. This is a Dion & Raz reconciliation song and I will not hear otherwise. "The words I speak are wildfire and weeds / they spread like some awful damn disease / I swear I didn't mean what I said / I swear I didn't mean it" and the way that Dion's so mean to Raz, the flicker of regret on his face after telling Raz the family would be better off without him, augh augh augh. And then "Remember when I could tell you not to smile when you were mad? / And you would always crack / and we'd both be laughing in the end" THEY USED TO BE SO CLOSE BUT "And now you're not so quick to forget" THEY'RE NOT ANYMORE. And then just,,, "I'll admit I've had my doubts / But I want to be let in, not out" and the refrain as Dion and Raz being able to reconcile and try again, ough ough aughhhhh

"Disco in the Panic Room" by Bug Hunter. Definitely a Dion song. Like. Look at this kid. Look at this kid with his struggles and anxieties and tell me that this song doesn't fit him. "If I look cool I'm fooling you / at any point you can assume / my mind's computing every path that screws up what I wanna do" and "I made a promise / now I feel nauseous... I'm honestly exhausted" and "The things that I can't shoulder well / I pass onto my older self / and hope I learn to cope so I don't end up broke or overwhelmed" and I just. this whole song is a bop and it fits Dion so well

"Problems" by Mother Mother. Dion would listen to this. Dion would vibe to this and this song lowkey vibes to him and yeah,,,

"It's Alright" by Mother Mother. DION WOULD VIBE TO THIS SONG AND I AM RIGHT. He would hear this and it would hit his chest and he'd listen to it unironically I am correct. "Oh hey / I had a night I had a day / I did one million stupid things / I said one billion foolish things / I'm not okay" like. That's a Dion line right there.

That's not every song on my playlist bc some are more AU-related or harder to explain, but it's most of them I think.

Omw to youtube music

#doodles rants #psychonauts #dion aquato

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sewersewersewercouch · 1 year ago

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Dion song associations - lightning round!

"Line Without a Hook" By Ricky Montgomery; water themings and longing vibes made me just kinda latch this song onto Dion for no real reason. it vibes.

"The Kids Aren't Alright" by Fallout Boy; this one vibes so hard actually. I don't have an infodump as to why it's connected I just think the refrain fits Dion pretty well.

"Semi-Automatic" by 21 Pilots. "The family will be better off when YOU'RE out!" Dion you mean little bitch. You mean little asshole I am going to crumple you like a piece of paper. Oughhhh

"Dazed & Confused" by Ruel is such a HUGE Dion/Gisu song to me. Just. Dion grappling with his bigotry and what Gisu's actually like,,, the BRIDGE oh my godddddd this is. You get the vibes right

"Trampoline" by The Front Bottoms. Dion & Frazie reconnecting after the events of the games vibes, after the psychophobia and secrets and adolescent stresses pushed them apart.

"I/Me/Myself" by Will Wood; GENDERFLUID DION GENDERFLUID DION GENDERFLUID DION

"Glowing Eyes" by 21 Pilots; this is a vibes one but like. Dion having to work through his issues.

"Trapped in the Thought of Free" by Faith Marie. No I have no idea how to explain it but it vibes I swear. Dion would listen to this unironically and also it vibes with his character trust me

"Way Less Sad" by AJR. Yeah it's really easy to make AJR songs vibe but like. This one definitely vibes with Dion. She's getting better but it's slow. It's not an easy process.

"MANiCURE" by Lady Gaga. Again this is both vibes and "Dion would listen to this and enjoy it. Dion would sing this to himself under his breath while working" and I am RIGHT.

"Creature of Habit" also by Bug Hunter also fits Dion so well fr fr. Mostly as a vibes thing though.

"Problems" by Mother Mother. Dion would listen to this. Dion would vibe to this and this song lowkey vibes to him and yeah,,,

This is kind of a joke one but. Icon for Hire's "Off With Her Head." Dion psychophobia guilt. "Your way to life / has only shown me what a fool I am" and "My enemies belittle me / reminding me the penalty / of all my deeds / despite my pleas / is death" but the enemies are Dion himself. Again this is lowkey a joke suggestion but also consider it. bc it's a banger song and I think it's funny.

these next two are a little weird but "Enough is Enough" from Central Park. Not sure who Dion would be singing to but like. He would love this song's energy. He would hum it under his breath while working.

And then "Trying Too Hard" also from Central Park kind of fits? Just,,,, "In a world where no one wears disguises / we would all be free / but being divided / is what was decided / so that's how it has to be" and "And just remember / you're never alone / if the back that you've got is your own" and "Gotta be unique / but gotta blend in / hide my inner geek / and keep pretending / gotta keep em laughing / though I'm only half-in / gotta put a show on / 'til I know they like me" and like. Dion trying so hard to seem cool and impressive and Grown Up when in reality he's just distancing himself from his siblings. The refusal of vulnerability on his part. The desire to be seen as impressive when he is, in fact, quite pathetic. hhhhh

And then I got this one from a comment someone made somewhere but "Tip Toes" by Half-Alive is SUCH a Dion song fr fr. "I'm on my tip toes / trying to get past my ego / reaching for something more than / this feeling of being important" DION AND HIS EGO AND HOW HE NEEDS TO PULL HIS HEAD FROM HIS ASS DO YOU SEE IT DO YOU SEE THE VISION

"Level Up" by 8 Graves fits in that generic "this asshole has a lot of growing to do" kind of way. And also it's a bop.

"I Won't" by AJR is like. like it doesn't exactly fit Dion (look at how much he sucks up to his parents) but also it does fit his attitude, the way he tries to seem unaffected and cool and how he's so so tired all the time. And also it fits the way he's not taking having his whole world turned upside down very well.

"Words" by Scotty Sire is. Yes. This is a Dion song. This is a Dion being an awful flirt song. This is a Dion song.

And lastly (for now) we have Steffan Argus' "Ship in a Bottle" which is just. OH MY GOD. the themes of struggling alone, of putting away all his thoughts and not being honest about how he feels,,,, "Oh, Captain/ let's make a deal / where we both say the things that we both really feel" DION BE MORE HONEST WITH YOURSELF CHALLENGE. "I feel scared and I'm starting to sink / and I only sink deeper the deeper I think" THAT'S A DION LINE TO ME FR FR. DO YOU SEE THE VISION

That's not every song on my playlist bc some are more AU-related or harder to explain (and i have "Surface Pressure" in there like four times lmao), but it's most of them I think.

Sorry this took me so long to answer! I’ve simply been chewing on it so hard but wow I love all of these my aquato family playlist is going to be feasting

#psychonauts #long post

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