#No it's far from sad if it seemed that way

[dadvans]

i am just so sad right now. like going into s8 i didn’t think bucktommy would be endgame, but the way s8 started changed my mind, so to have them be literally so in love for 5 episodes straight just to have them break up in the most abrupt way?? it just feels so last minute which is shocking because in the interviews this was apparently a planned thing but it doesn’t feel like it at all. Like if this was a concern Tommy had why didn’t it come up at all? like little throwaway lines of Tommy making jokes of Buck getting sick of him or wanted to explore other options or whatever. I hope the backlash makes them rethink, and Tommy comes back but for now it doesn’t seem like it. I guess my only hope is that Buddie goes canon, but even then i won’t be able to really enjoy it. I seriously don’t know if i’ll be able to keep watching the show, not solely because they broke up, but because of how they broke up. (srry for the long ask, just needed to vent)

no apologies needed!

at the end of the day, so many of us found joy in their story, their chemistry, the way even up until the final second tommy admitted that what he wanted with buck was something that would inevitably break his heart.

they were good together. tommy fit into so many intimidating parts of buck's life with ease. tommy is (as far as we know) still good friends with buck's best friend! tommy loved him anyway, loved him warts and all, road shotgun to buck's worst fears and weirdest conspiracies.

at the end of the day, we have a few things:

we GOT them. we got to see them together, we got the soft looks, we got the kisses, the foundation of them that is real and canon in a way we could strike like a match against the edge of a box to light them up for real all over again. i don't think "being canon" gives any credence or superiority to a ship, and have shipped people or characters that have never interacted/existed together in a tangible way, simply because it's FUN. that's how i'll always have fun with ships and fandom, BUT! what a wonderful thing to celebrate that we DID have them, that we have this as a foundation for whatever comes next, that there is never a door permanently closed to them finding each other again when it was already real from the start

for a lot of us, this isn't how their story ends. it's insane that so much fic and content was produced for a canon ship like this. so often fandom is chasing down the what-ifs and never-hads. a lot of us invested in bucktommy because they had the compatibility, the fit, the chemistry, the potential. that's novel shit! that doesn't just evaporate because they broke up in canon. it certainly hurts. the kind of hype we were surfing will crash and sink back in the oncoming months, but i know talking to a lot of people tonight that we aren't done with this ship. we aren't ready to say goodbye.

i'm sad. i'm angry. i felt a real sense of queer euphoria whenever i saw them together, even for 30 seconds, teetering on the edge of this new couple joy learning each other into something new and weird and fun that always lingered as a promise on the edge of their interactions. i was so excited for who buck could become with tommy as his home base. shifting that has rocked me in a bad way.

i expect people to inevitably step away from this ship and this fandom, but i'll mention that non-canon ships like arthur/eames or mcshep or social network rpf or short-lived shows from 1996 (hi sentinel) have had long-lived fandoms and left long-lasting impressions in other fandoms that have lasted for over a decade of zero additional content. this is a playground that, just because they've parted ways for now, we don't have to stop playing in.

and i'll be honest: i have several WIPs i'm like, well trash that! after watching the most recent episode. but i also have a dozen new ideas. new ways they could fall in love now or again, new ways they could meet, new ways they could be for each other.

i'll keep creating. i'll keep dreaming. they won't ever not have the spark that they had. the show could end tomorrow but we'll always have an open door to believing and shaping the thousands of ways they can and will find each other again.

[bekkachaos]

I wish I didn't linger on every thought

8x06 coda | 700 words

Buck goes to Eddie's so he doesn't have to be alone. They don't really talk, but they don't really need to. aka, a continuation of the final scene in 8x06

Eddie didn't get up to turn the music off, in fact he was quite enjoying it. He never really played music around the house and it had been far, far too quiet lately.

As he leant back he turned his head to look curiously at Buck. He looked like someone had dropped him in cold water and put him out on their doorstep. Then there was the way he had already finished his beer when Eddie was only halfway through.

He took another bottle from his six pack and held it up, looking back at Eddie who just shook his head and gestured to his own bottle.

Buck sighed, cracking it open and taking another long swig.

"Slow down there," Eddie said, nudging Buck's knee with his own. "You only brought six."

He smiled like he was prompting Buck to do the same, but he didn't.

"I'm sure you've got one or two in the fridge," he said instead, sullen and monotone.

"Probably," Eddie said, putting his bottle to his lips.

He bobbed his head to the song as it played, taking in a deep breath and resting his head against the back of the couch. He was trying really hard not to feel guilty for taking a moment to feel joy, to do something silly and frivolous just because he could. It felt nice, and he was going to lean into that. He had to.

He turned back to look at Buck, now with his elbows propped on his knees and his fingers peeling at the label on the bottle in his hands.

"You... want to talk about it?" he asked, watching the way Buck's lips tightened as he chewed on the inside of his cheek.

"No, not really," Buck said in that same listless voice.

He turned his eyes to Eddie, and god they were so sad. Eddie thought that maybe there might have already been tears, or that they were so glassy because he was desperately trying to hold them in. He knew when to push and when to just let him be though.

If Buck wanted to talk then he would (usually it was impossible to get him to stop), but that didn't seem to be what he needed right now.

Buck's eyebrow cocked slightly as he gave Eddie a once over look.

"Do you?" he asked.

Eddie smiled, shaking his head and letting out a low chuckle.

"Nah," he said, taking in a steadying breath. "No I'm um, I'm good."

It might be the first time in a long time that he's said that and actually meant it.

"Good," Buck nodded, turning away from him and back to the disintegrating label at his fingers.

"You want to put a movie on or something?" Eddie offered.

He didn't mind just sitting there with Buck, but he seemed like he could use something to take his mind of whatever seemed to be revolving around in his head, not to mention some company.

"Yeah," he said, lips growing soft in the corners. "That sounds good."

"Any suggestions?" Eddie asked, and Buck turned to look at him.

"Risky Business?" he said, completely straight faced.

Eddie just looked back at him a moment, holding his eyes until he saw just the hint of a sparkle, and his lips pulled up in a smile.

It was a shadow of his usual one, but it was there, it was enough to let Eddie know that he was okay, just hurting.

Eddie let out a laugh and shook his head.

"Alright wise guy," he said fondly, getting to his feet with a groan and reaching for the rest of the beers at Buck's side. "Give me those, I'll put them in the fridge, you just pick something."

He started walking towards the kitchen when he heard Buck's voice call him back.

"Hey Eddie?"

He turned, resting one hand on the wall and looking over at him with eyes that answered his soft question.

"Can I crash here tonight?" he said, eyes crinkling in the corners. "I just... kinda don't want to go back home."

Eddie's smile was warm, feeling. Seeing Buck so in need of comfort left a tugging sensation in his chest.

"Couch is all yours, anytime. You know that."

Buck let out a sharp sigh and Eddie watched just a little bit of relief flood over him.

"Thanks," he said.

Eddie just gave him a nod, watching for a moment as Buck reached for the remote before going to put the beers away, and check that he had enough in the fridge in case Buck needed just a little more.

[sashaisready]

Since You've Been Gone: Chapter 1

Bucky Barnes x Reader

After a regrettable first meeting in the cemetery, you discover that you have something in common with a certain member of the Avengers. Unfortunately, you can't choose your neighbours, even in death.

(Setting is approx. post TFATWS)

Hi, I'm back! I have no idea where this came from, or where it's going! So apologies as updates may not be consistent while I figure it out. Warnings for death of parents, grief, mentions of cemetery/graves - please tread carefully if these are triggers for you.

🍂

It was a chilly Autumn day, but not unbearable. Your coat could more than handle the frigid breeze. You squinted at the headstone as you crouched on your knees, angling your head to make sure you hadn’t left any streaks or marks from the polish. Satisfied with your performance, you trimmed a few of the roses that were leaning against it before standing and taking a step back to admire your handiwork.

Immaculate as always, so neat you could almost be fooled into thinking you weren’t even outside. You could hear your parents’ voices in your head now, joking about being able to keep their graves far cleaner that you ever managed your bedroom to be, their frequent nags falling on deaf adolescent ears.

You smiled sadly as you looked at the intricately engraved text below their names on the shared stone:

Beloved parents taken too soon,

Waiting in heaven to be reunited with their only daughter

You’d never really like that phrasing; it was a little too whimsical for your tastes – especially all these years later. But a recently orphaned teenager wasn’t exactly an expert in choosing the best headstone wording. You’d been more than happy to let your aunt and the funeral home lead the way, too paralysed by grief to make even the smallest decisions in the hellscape that was death admin.

Still, you’d never want to upset your aunt by getting it changed, there’s a lot of strange emotion tied up in grief even when time has passed, and that mourning teen has become an adult. And it wasn’t like new headstones were cheap anyway…

As you packed up your cleaning kit your attention was drawn to the two graves next to your parents’ - George and Winnifred Barnes. They had both passed several decades earlier, long before your parents were buried next to them. They had died only a few months apart according to the text…maybe they’d couldn’t survive without each other.

It was easy to infer that they no longer had anyone left earthside. The graves had been long untouched, unkempt, and overgrown, the inscriptions getting harder to read – and you’d never seen any evidence of a visitor in all your time coming here. Except of course when the cemetery staff did one of their occasional mass clean-ups of the neglected graves.

About a year ago, you’d started tending to them alongside your parents. You weren’t sure why, it just seemed like the right thing to do. They were neighbours after all. And you’d want someone to do the same for your mum and dad if you weren’t around.

You’d cleaned their stones, wiped away the grime and given them a decent polish. You’d trimmed back the weeds and laid fresh flowers. The first time took a while, but after you’d got them to a reasonable standard it was all pretty easy to maintain.

You’d often wondered who they were. What they were like. The dates suggested they’d died of old age, a luxury your parents didn’t have. Were they kind? Funny? What hobbies did they have? They were around during the war, that must’ve been tough. You knew from the inscriptions that they had children who would’ve been over hundred by now. Maybe no grandchildren which is why nobody came by to see them anymore. It made you feel sad, how we could all be just a few generations away from being forgotten entirely. At least you could try to remember them.

You gave their graves a quick once over, took away the dead flowers and added some fresh roses in their place.

“Well, I’m done,” you said aloud, “see you soon, mum and dad. And you too, George and Winnifred. Sleep well”.

You sighed, walking back to your car and back to your life. You knew all too well that the dead may be still, but the world continues around them.

🍂

A week later you were back at the cemetery with your cleaning kit slung over your back, your arms full of fresh flowers.

“Afternoon, mum and dad,” you said as you placed your kit and flowers down and pulled out the foam pad that you used to kneel on, “and you, George and Winnifred”.

“Work has been kicking my ass this week,” you sighed as you got to work on your parents’ stone. “There’s only so much I can take of Brock’s moaning about the numbers…it’s getting harder not to smash my keyboard over his head – yeah I know, violence isn’t the answer, blah-blah-blah…”

You worked diligently, chatting away as you went through your maintenance tasks. It was nice, talking to them like this. You could say anything, really. No judgements, no admonishment, just silent acceptance of everything you told them. It was a bit like therapy for you. You often imagined your parents were sitting behind you as you spoke, just out of sight.

You liked to use old newspaper to buff up the marble. As you gathered your things together, you glanced at some of the headlines from the copy you’d brought with you. Lots of dreary grimness unfortunately. There was also a longread feature on the Avengers and where they were now, their photographs lined up across the top of the page. It was sad that a few of them were dead now, or at least no longer here. You felt a pang of sadness for their loved ones – you knew what that was like.

You didn’t know all the details of The Avengers and their associates, but like everyone else you knew the basics. It was a strange time, just a decade or so ago nobody had ever thought superheroes really existed…but then all of these ‘enhanced’ people started crawling out of the woodwork, revealing weapons and technology that previously had only existed in sci-fi movies. It was hard to believe, really.

You scanned the newspaper page, looking at the pictures for a few moments. You took your time studying their faces before sighing and placing it back down.

“All done…now let’s help out George and Winnie over here, looks like you guys need some new flowers…and all that heavy rain we’ve been having has really done a number on your stones…let me just-”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the gruff voice behind you demanded, causing you such a shock that you nearly joined your parents.

You spun your body away from the graves, horrified to see a man looming over you as you stared at him open-mouthed in surprise. You hadn’t heard him approach, not quite understanding how you hadn’t noticed him coming at all…

“I said what the hell do you think you’re doing?” he repeated to you, his blue eyes alight with anger.

He was big. Bigger than you. Even under his coat you could see his broad shoulders. A mop of dark hair framed his face, most likely quite an attractive face when it wasn’t pulled into a furious sneer like it was now. He wore black gloves as he pointed at you accusingly. The fact that you were kneeling on the ground while he stood towering at his full height had not gone unnoticed by you.

There was something strangely familiar about him, but you couldn’t place it. Did he shop at the same market as you? You couldn’t quite…

“I’m…I’m just-” you spluttered as you fumbled for the words, still caught in your surprise and the fact that this normally serene time had been interrupted by a stranger yelling at you…

“Get away from there!” he snarled.

You quickly realised he was talking about the Barnes’ graves. You bounced backwards, landing painfully on your ass in your desperation to do what he said. He had a chilling air of authority that you didn’t want to screw with. You weren’t trying to piss off an angry man while you were out here all alone…

“I was just tidying them up,” you managed weakly as you sat up and clutched at the flowers.

“Nobody asked you to,” he scoffed in response as he leaned over and ran a gloved finger over Winnifred’s inscription, “you shouldn’t be clambering all over graves of people you don’t know”.

You frowned as the initial shock of the encounter wore off, now annoyed now at his abrupt rudeness towards you when you only had good intentions.

“Oh, and you know them, do you?” you snapped back sharply as your felt your emotions surge and your eyes water, your cheeks hot with mortification, “well, nobody has been to visit those graves in years so-”

“Yeah, actually I do know them - I’m their son,” he spat furiously.

Your head bounced back in surprise and confusion. You curled your lip and frowned at his strange claim, he appeared to be his mid-to-late 30s at most – many years away from the very elderly man he’d need to be for that to be true.

What was his goal here, exactly?

Was this guy just looking to start an argument and decided you’d be his target? Spouting off nonsense about random graves just to mess with you?

And where did you know him from?

Despite your survival instincts, you couldn’t help but fight back. You didn’t appreciate being messed with at the best of times, let alone when you were only here to visit your deceased loved ones. Who came to a graveyard to fuck with people? And yell at them?!

“Huh? Son?” you scoffed with derision and jabbed a finger towards the inscriptions about their children, “well, that can’t be true as that would mean their kids would have to be over a hundred…and how many one-hundred-year-olds look like you…?”

“I’m 107 years old, actually,” he said venomously. He sounded utterly sincere despite the ludicrousness of his claim. His face was sullen, his eyes piercing.

You ignored the shudder that threatened to roll through you in response. It was a strangely familiar expression on his face.

Where had you seen that look?

“Oh, yeah! You’re 107…Sure!” you laughed sarcastically. “You just have the greatest plastic surgeon of all time, in fact there’s a bunch of centenarians wandering around looking thirt-”

You trailed off as a wave of recognition suddenly hit you and the penny dropped. Oh. Oh.

He wasn’t from the market…

It was him.

Your eyes panned down to the crumpled newspaper lying next to you. The same man’s face scrutinised you from the page, an exact mirror image of the brooding 3D version in front of you. A little older now, but still unmistakably the same man.

Oh!

Now you remembered that same picture on the news. Read about the terrible things he’d done before when he was under hypnosis. For the Nazis? The Soviets? Both? Flashes of recollection hit you at once, disjointed and scattered.

It wasn’t really him doing all of it, it was a mind control thing, they’d said. He was like the Captain…the first one from the 40s. Kept young…somehow. He had a robot arm. Then there was the big government pardon after he’d helped to save the world. The deep dive the New York Times had done on his assassin past. What had they said he was called? Iceman? Winter? Winter hitman?

The Winter Soldier.

Barton? Baines? No, Barnes.

Barnes.

As in…son of Winnifred and George?

Ah.

He must’ve seen your train of thought written all over your face as he nodded solemnly at you.

“Yeah. It’s me. And I only found their resting place a few weeks ago,” he said with disdain.

You got to your feet, taking a few cautious steps backwards. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. You didn’t need to be a jerk - I’ve just been coming here for years, and I’d never seen…”

You trailed off, he didn’t care. His focus was on the graves, one gloved hand gripping the top of his father’s stone as he peered down at the grass below.

You turned to leave, giving him his privacy, “I’m sorry for your loss,” you mumbled quietly as you picked up your kit.

You started to head back to your car, then turned to face him again after a couple of steps. You warily moved back towards him and leaned over, placing a single flower between the feet of his parents’ graves. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t pick it up and throw it back in your face, either.

As you walked away, you thought you felt the weight of his gaze on your back.

🍂

Another week passed and you were back at the cemetery once more, working the usual routine and doing your best to forget what had happened the last time you were here. Upsetting a war veteran slash Avengers superhero by accusing him of not being his parents’ child was impressively incompetent, even by your standards. But in your defence, he did just start yelling at you out of nowhere. And you were only trying to help. And he was a literal defiance of nature, time, and aging…

But then again, people weren’t always their best selves in a cemetery. It wasn’t exactly Happy Hour over here. And you’d probably freak out too if you caught a stranger tinkering around with the resting place of your parents. The parents who died of old age while you were cryogenically frozen and a prisoner in your own body…

You’d done a little more reading up on him, James Buchanan Barnes. ‘Bucky’. The man behind the scary winter soldier mask. The older images of him in his combat gear were chilling, as were the alleged stats of his kills, but mainly you just felt immense empathy for a man out of time. A man who had lost his youth, a limb, his autonomy, and everybody he once knew from his old life.

You tried to put it out of your mind, catching your parents up on what they’d missed and pretty-ing things up a little around their plot. You didn’t touch the Barnes’ this time, just gave them a little wave and concentrated on your own flesh and blood.

You were a million miles away, lost in the quiet fog that often seemed to overtake you when you were working in the cemetery. It was peaceful, really. This was the one place you could switch your brain off and quiet the chatter of your head, just concentrate on the tasks you knew so well by now that your hands did them on muscle memory alone.

You were just adjusting the newest flowers when a voice interrupted you.

“Hey,” it said.

It startled you as you were still in your own world and hadn’t heard anyone else approach. You whirled around slightly panicked as a pair of eyes the colour of sapphires met yours.

It was him again.

“Oh, hello,” you replied quietly.

He stared over at you, wrapped up in his coat as he was last time. His stare was still intense despite appearing much calmer than when you first met him. He wore black pants and boots, his hands tucked away into his pockets, a dark backpack slung over his shoulder. His face was more relaxed than it was during your first encounter. His blue eyes were just as arresting, but the absence of anger made them sparkle rather than burn. He had a soft dusting of stubble across his taut jawline, his dark hair was pulled back behind his head as he absent-mindedly ran a hand over it. He was…

…hot?

Fuck.

He nodded at you in acknowledgement and moved to George and Winnifred’s plot, kneeling in front of their stones. He pulled a candle out from his backpack and lit it with a lighter, placing it between where his parents lay.

You turned away sharply, not wanting to look like you were intruding during what was clearly a private moment of mourning. You focused on your own parents’ graves, clipping back the flowers as quietly as possible.

The two of you continued doing your own thing, the awkwardness thick in the air. You remembered how furious he’d been with you last time. You considered saying something, trying to explain that you were only trying to maintain the graves, but you didn’t want to provide any more ammunition for potential anger. Instead, you continued your routine in silence, keeping your eyes down.

After you finished you packed up your stuff and cleared your throat, ‘uh, bye,” you said quietly to him as you hurried down the path and back towards your car. He didn’t respond, but looked up at you as you passed, studying you intently.

[vscabarca]

a gavi fic in which he dispels the reader's insecure about her appearance? pleaseeee

"one tummy roll or two, I don‘t care" - pablo gavi

summary: before a date night you become insecure about your appearance, but gavi talks you out of it.

genre: fluff,

warnings: talks of body image

a/n: enjoyy!💞💗

———

„Amorcito are you ready to - hey why are you crying?“ Pablo originally wanted to check in on you to see if you were ready for the date he had planned.

Since he could play football again, you and the brunette hadn’t had much time for each other. It didn’t bother you - you loved seeing him smile again and do what he loved, but of course - you were excited to be taken on a night out again.

That excitement was long gone though.

When Pablo told you to dress nicely, you immediately thought of that one dress. The one you wore on the first date with the midfielder.

Everything had been going well so far. You took a shower, did your makeup and straightened your hair until it was time to put on the black dress.

Once you put it on, your heart sank. Why didn’t it look like the other times before? You tried to flat it out, maybe there were just too many wrinkles from being in the closet for too long.

After trying to adjust it better, you realized it wasn’t the wrinkles, it was you. Suddenly all the confidence you’ve had about your appearance vanished. The dress was too tight in all the wrong places, showing off your insecurities no one besides you would notice.

Your hips seemed to be too wide, your arms too big and your belly seemed to be extremely visible through the silk material. The smile gradually turned into a frown and you had to swallow down a forming lump in your throat.

Do I really look that bad? You questioned yourself, now looking at every detail of your body. More and more seemed to make you insecure. Did you gain weight? Why were there so many pimples on your forehead and why did your legs look like that? Your thoughts kept spiraling till they stopped at the comment section of your instagram profile. Since you and Pablo have made the relationship public, comments and tweets decorated not only his posts but also yours. A lot of them were just purely jealous, but a few also pointed out how you were not worthy enough to be a football star‘s partner.

They called you all kinds of names, but Pablo was always there to talk them out of your little head. At the beginning it was horrible. He even disabled yours and his comment section to show you his support.

Now, after several months, you have gotten pretty used to it. People still call you slurs and whatever, but you realized Pablo loved you the way you were. Yet there were days where the suppressed feelings came back to make life difficult for you, just like now.

You still stood in front of the mirror, silent tears rolling down your cheeks, messing up the pretty makeup you have done just moments before.

The sound of Pablo’s voice made your head spin and once you saw him standing in the doorway, you quickly wiped away the tears.

„Oh, I wasn’t don’t worry.“ You bluntly stated, not wanting to mess up the night.

„Bombón don’t lie to me, I see how you were crying before.“ Pablo said with a sad tone, slowly walking up to you. As he stood in front of you, brushing away the wet tears, your chin started to quiver even more. More and more tears streamed down your face as your boyfriend pulled you close against his chest. Pablo’s arms were tightly wrapped around you, soothing you and placing gentle kisses on top of your head.

„Do you wanna tell me what happened? I hate to see you cry.“ He whispered, trying to get you to look at him.

You finally did, looking into the eyes of your worried boyfriend who was giving you a weak grin.

„I hope I wasn’t making you cry with something I did.“ Pablo joked, finally getting you to crack a smile.

„No, of course not.“ You sniffled, mentally preparing yourself to explain to him why just everything seemed to disgust you about your body.

Pablo led you to the bed, taking your hand into his.

„I think I gained weight.“ You simply swallowed while new tears poured down your cheeks.

Pablo knew immediately what you were about to tell him. He wished you could see yourself through his eyes, how beautiful you smiled at people you loved, how soft your skin was and how you still turned his head upside down every new day.

„Bombón… I love you. I wish you could see how much you mean to me and how beautiful you truly are.“ Pablo softly caressed your cheek, trying to lift the weight off your chest.

„It’s just… I hate how I look in that dress. And then I think about all those comments I‘ve received. What if I really don’t deserve you?“

Pablo’s heart shattered right there. How could you even think of something like that while you were all he ever wanted in life?

„I am with you because you are all I want in my life. You complete me in every way possible. If one of us doesn’t deserve the other then it would be me. You are beautiful inside and out. These people who write these tweets are just jealous and don’t see how good you do me.“ He stopped his small speech, pressing soft kisses all over your face, achieving to elicit the sound of your giggles.

„You are gorgeous. I love your hair, your cute nose, the bushy eyebrows, your long legs, your tummy and your butt. I love everything about you. More or less weight, one tummy roll or two, I don’t care and so should you. You turn my head upside down wearing that dress, wearing anything basically or nothing, you decide.“

Finally, your laugh echoed through the shared bedroom, shaking your head softly at your boyfriend’s comment.

„I love you too, everything about you. Sometimes I don’t know what I would do without you.“ You said once you felt yourself relax and laid your head onto his shoulder.

„Mírame.“ Pablo said gently, making you turn your head to look into his beautiful brown eyes.

„Let’s skip our reservation and watch a movie cuddled up under some blankets. Maybe bake something? What do you think?“

You gave Pablo a gentle kiss, silently agreeing with his proposal before he took your hand and led you downstairs to the kitchen, making you forget all the worries from before.

[mc-lukanette]

Luka was still a child, far too young to worry about much of anything, yet he worried anyway because Marinette seemed worried. While she still engaged with him during their usual playtime and listened eagerly when he showed her the new toy he'd gotten, she felt distant and was more quiet than usual. It was a problem, not only because she was his friend and he cared, but he liked hearing her talk and ramble to him.

She wasn't doing any of that while she was so distracted.

He didn't ask about it - Juleka had told him once that girls were allowed to have their secrets, and he didn't know if this might be one of them - so he tried to find other things for them to do, hoping it might interest her more. They took a break to eat, went for a walk around the Liberty to see if the flowers needed watering, then searched for something to watch together.

He was starting to lose hope that he could cheer her up when she suddenly spoke partway through their movie search.

"Magic's not real."

He looked, seeing her hunched over with a movie in her hands. Not knowing why she'd say such a thing, he asked in reply, "Why?"

She pouted, fidgeting with the movie as she explained, "I had to write stuff for school about the story of someone we look up to. I was gonna do the tooth fairy, because Santa has a hard job too but the tooth fairy's tiny and works all year."

He nodded along silently to her story, agreeing with the logic. "Then what?"

"I wanted to know where they got all the money for kids' teeth, like a job, so I sneaked onto the computer when no one was around and..." She let out a groan, slumping and falling back onto the floor. "They're not real."

It was a shock to him too, though Marinette had been through it first without any support, so he can't imagine how it was for her. "But magic can still be real, right? Just not the tooth fairy."

"Santa's not real either!" she shouted to the empty space in the room.

Luka slowly realized how much she'd kept inside the whole time.

"I just wanted to give him the cookies I made last Christmas," she said, rubbing her face tiredly, "but then I caught Papa dressed up like Santa!"

"How'd you know it was him?" he asked with a tilt of his head.

"It's Papa! No one else looks like him."

That was fair.

"I thought maybe Santa was sick from the North Pole cold and sent Papa clothes so no one knew, but... the clothes were so cheap!" She threw her hands up, nearly sending the movie across the room in the process. "They just did it to trick me if I tried to meet 'Santa'!"

Marinette knew her fashion, so he believed her. He imagined that she'd let the Santa clothes go for all that time and it was only after yet another disappointment with the tooth fairy that she gave in.

For his own part, Luka had believed in Santa, but not that he was the one delivering gifts. According to his mom, Santa abandoned his wife, leaving her to do all the gifting, and she'd "throw him overboard" if he ever came back. He'd always wondered why the other kids told different versions, but if it was just a story, then it made sense.

A sympathetic, "Oh," was all he could say. It wasn't easy for him to grasp that magic wasn't real as, while he'd never seen people fly or cast spells, he always thought it was pretty magical that he and Marinette met and became best friends.

"And if magic's not real, fairytales aren't too," Marinette concluded, gently tossing the movie aside.

It landed in front of Luka and he finally got to see what she'd been holding that started all this: a typical princess movie with a prince, a fairy godmother, and a witch-y villainess. He frowned, picking it up and turning it around to look at the back as well.

He trusted Marinette, so it must've been true that magic and fairytales weren't real. He was torn, because while it was sad that he wouldn't be seeing "real" magic in his life, it was weirdly comforting that life didn't work out the way it did in fairytales.

He'd always thought that Marinette was cute enough to be a princess, or at least the girls in the movies who became princesses. At the same time, the only boys the princesses and those girls tended to be around were princes, and Luka wasn't a prince; he wasn't even close. He wasn't rich, he wasn't royalty, he couldn't do a ballroom dance, and he hadn't defeated any evil dragons.

But if fairytales weren't real, then he could stay with her. That was one good thing.

Marinette sat up, defeated, but not enough to ignore fixing her bangs and checking the tightness of the hairties holding her pigtails in place. Luka blinked, briefly distracted by the trail of freckles underneath her sad, half-lidded eyes.

He was sure they hadn't done any art or crafts that day, but she must've before she'd gotten there, as her freckles were sparkling like they'd gotten glitter onto them. His nose scrunched in thought, wondering how he could've missed that when she'd gotten there.

"I wanted to be the knitting fairy when I grew up. I wanted to make clothes for everyone that was super comfy and didn't go out of style," she mumbled, her hands tightened into fists against her chest. "A-and make it so bullies would have clothes that never fit and were always really itchy!"

Her eyes flashed with frustration, looking more blue than usual. Luka went closer to sit down next to her, wanting to comfort her but not sure how.

"You can still make clothes," he pointed out. "You'll be good at it."

"But—!" she began to protest, turning fully to him. "I had other stuff I wanted to do with my magic! Like—ah... nnn..."

"Marinette?" he called, alarmed as she started to shake. He knew intuitively that it wasn't from rage.

She shut her eyes tight like she had a headache, squeezing herself in a hug. She opened her mouth to respond to him—

Only to disappear spontaneously in a cloud of thick, pink mist. Luka recoiled, staring at what looked almost looked like cotton candy in cloud form that Marinette had been lost in.

Without a thought as to if it might hurt him or not, he thrust his hand inside desperately, hoping to pull her out. He tried to grasp at where her shoulder had been before, but couldn't feel anything except for the bizarre, almost fuzzy feeling mist. Still, he noticed that the movement had cleared some of it, so he waved his arm about rapidly to try and clear as much of it as he could.

A very Marinette-like cough sounded from below, her voice filling him with relief as she called out, "L-Luka?"

His arm pulled back, the mist separating and fading away into nothingness. He looked down towards the source of her voice, thinking that she might have collapsed despite him having not heard it, but that's not at all what he ended up seeing.

Sitting on the floor just as she'd been before was a wide-eyed Marinette, but small; small enough for him to carry around in both hands. Her pigtails had rounded and gained little hair accessories that reminded him of tiny pincushions, while her outfit had changed to a pink, fluffy minidress.

Most notable, however, were the glowing white fairy wings that were coming out of her back. He covered his mouth with both hands in shock.

"You're magic," he said, though it was muffled behind his palms. Even if Santa and the tooth fairy weren't real, at least his inclinations about their magical meeting still made sense.

"W-what?!"

She jumped to her feet, noticing how little she rose up, then turned and twisted every way possible to look at herself, which was when he noticed that she also had pointed ears. Even as tiny as she was, Luka was observant enough to catch the tidal waves of emotion passing over her face one after another. She was surprised by the change, but the wings and new clothes made her giddy, then she swapped to being horrified.

"Ah, but—but there's no tooth fairy!" She put her hands to her cheeks in distress, so fast that they made a slapping sound. "If I was gonna be a fairy, I wanted someone to teach me! Does that—" She gasped. "—Does that mean I'm the only real tooth fairy? All by myself?! I don't have any money to give to other kids!"

Luka fretted as she paced in a tiny circle on the floor, two children entirely lost without direction.

"Or do I have to be a fairy godmother? Do I have to go find a girl to godmother to? What if I pick the wrong girl?!" She whined, the pacing picking up as she threw her arms about. "And I don't know anything about being a god, or a mother!"

He didn't know anything about what was going on, but he didn't want her to worry so much. Perhaps impulsively, he put a hand out to block the path she'd been pacing.

Marinette nearly bumped into it, but stopped just in time. She stared up at him with her wide eyes pleading and confused.

"Maybe you don't have to be anything?" He shrugged helplessly with one arm, hoping for the same as her. "Did it come with rules? Like a board game or a toy you build?"

She perked, realizing that he meant an instruction manual, and immediately started patting herself down. There weren't many places for a guide to be put on her, though he noticed that pockets seemed to magically form when Marinette tried to search for some.

"...No," she concluded when she'd run out of spots to check. "I-I don't think so?"

"Then it's gotta be okay," he said; more decided, really. He might not have fought off dragons, but he would hide and defend her if any sort of fairy police came to scold her for rules they didn't know about. His mom had always been a rule breaker and encouraged him to break them in cases like these.

Well, she didn't describe a situation like his best friend transforming into a fairy, but it fell within the category, he was sure.

As Luka tilted his head to fully take in Marinette, he saw her glancing over her shoulder at her wings. She arched her back, shoulders tensing as she closed her eyes, but the wings only fluttered briefly before she gave up.

"You wanna fly?" he wondered aloud.

"Yeah? No—yeah?" She blushed, getting up on her tip toes to try and make herself seem taller. "You'll hurt your neck if you keep looking down."

He unconsciously touched the back of his neck, having not given an ounce of thought to that. She was the one who suddenly changed, so why was she thinking about him? He looked around, trying to get a gauge on how the room must've looked to her, then suggested, "I can pick you up?"

"Mm?" She hadn't considered the possibility.

He laid his hands on the floor, palms facing up, and raised a brow as if to ask, 'is this okay?' Marinette stared at his hands, taking a few steps closer and looking them over like they were a puzzle, then slowly raised a leg and started to get on. He kept perfectly still, not wanting to jostle her, though she still fell forward due to his hands being a more uneven surface than the floor.

He would've helped had his hands not been preoccupied for obvious reasons. He was vaguely upset at them for being uneven in the first place, as if he'd had any control over that.

He waited for her to sit up and get her bearings, then started to stand up. He kept his eyes on her all the way to the coffee table, walking carefully so as to not trip or bump into anything. When they did reach it, he lowered his hands and she jumped off a couple inches away from the table, falling down slowly like a feather to both of their surprise.

"Oh." Marinette glanced at her wings again, as if she could belatedly check if they had fluttered automatically during the fall. Luka had been watching, so he knew it was just how her new body worked.

He sat himself down on the floor, his arms on the table for support so he could lean towards her. "Do you wanna change back?"

She pursed her lips at him, rubbing her chin, then cheek, and finally the back of her neck. "...I dunno? How?"

He racked his brain, tilting his head from side to side like it might help the thoughts move around more quickly. He recalled their conversation and tried to piece together any connection to her changing. "You were thinking about being a fairy? And magic?"

He didn't know how saying that helped, but she picked it up from there. "So... I have to think about being a not fairy? A not fairy without magic?"

He shrugged.

Since they didn't have any other alternatives, she went with it. Putting her teeny tiny hands on her teeny tiny hips, she shut her eyes and tried to focus. It did feel like a shame to try and change her back when she'd just turned into a fairy, but it was just as important to know what she could and couldn't do.

Nothing was happening though. Her brow twitched, her feet shifting in place impatiently. She swayed from side to side, not unlike he'd done earlier while thinking, then she opened her eyes to look up at him. Letting out a whine from her throat, she turned her back to him and tried again. He didn't know how that was supposed to make it easier on her.

Nothing again. She was still a fairy, still just as tiny, and she turned back to him with the same gleaming blue eyes, pointy ears, and glittery freckles.

"I can't," she said. "Not yet."

Yet? "What's wrong?"

"I'm still thinking about magic." She hesitated, then stepped closer and reached both of her hands up. "Come down."

The words alone were a demand, but the tone made it a shy request. He obeyed, bending over and letting his chin rest on his forearms.

Going close enough to his face that he had to cross his eyes to watch her, she stepped off to the side next to his head, putting a knee on his forearm as she leaned forward. While he couldn't see where she was reaching, he felt her fingertips against his cheek, at the hair in front of his ear.

"If I just have to think about it hard..." she murmured to herself.

He was really curious, but resisted asking in case it broke her focus. Was she performing magic on him? Was that why it felt so warm where she touched?

"Ah!" she yelped, startled, but what came out as shock quickly turned to delight. "It...it works! It works!"

"Marinette," he protested with a whine of his own, unable to stand the suspense.

"Sorry! Here, here..."

She was excited now, a far cry from the anxiety she'd shown when she first transformed. She moved back to where he could see her better, and this time he could watch as she slipped her fingertips through his bangs.

Like, well, magic, his hair changed from black to blue where she touched. He sucked in a breath, watching it spread further until she was satisfied, then she moved onto another lock of his hair. He had to grip his arms, forcing herself to stay still and not spring upwards from her contagious excitement.

She continued until his hair was dyed blue at the tips all along the front, then stepped back and jumped, limps spread in joy as she fell slowly back down. "Ta-dah! I'll do the back later too!"

He popped back up immediately, running his hand through his bangs to feel her work. Mesmerized by how simple the process had been and how perfect the magic dye job was, he let out a long, quiet, "ohhh."

She bounced up and down, then pointed at one of his hands. "Those next, those next!"

He followed the pointing to stare at it, not sure what she meant, but he wanted to know with action, not words. He leaned over once more to watch as close as he could, resting his hand flat on the table.

Marinette knelt down in front of it, placing her hands under his. With a small, "huph," she pulled it atop her lap as much as she could, then reached out towards his fingertips.

He realized what was happening before she'd started, based on where she'd touched: one of his black fingernails. She traced her hand around the outline of his nail, fixing the tiny mistakes and spreading the nail polish further in places he'd missed when he'd done it himself.

She tried to move over to reach the next fingernail when she was done with the first, but he moved his hand for her, offering her each finger at a time and then his thumb. She was elated, which he could understand for the sheer coolness factor of it all, but something in the back of his mind reminded him of everything she'd been saying, as well as what she was cut off from saying due to the transformation.

When she was done with his hand, he swapped it out for the other and asked, "What was it?"

"Mmm~?" she hummed, half of her attention on his nail polish.

"The other stuff? The magic that wasn't for the clothes," he clarified.

She stopped tending to his nails for a moment, beaming at him and answering with her full chest, "Stuff for you!" She waved her whole arm to gesture at his hand, then up at his bangs. "You kept talking about dyeing your hair, and how long it took to do your nails. I knew if I had magic, then I could do it for you!"

And that's exactly what she was doing: she couldn't have even thought about being human again until she knew that she could use magic to cure him of what was essentially a mild inconvenience. He could only stare at her, speechless, at how a big part of her wanting to be a fairy involved him.

She was amazing. The best possible friend he could've asked for. Human or fairy, she was just as magical.

"Done!" she declared as she finished the nails on his other hand, standing up to look it over one more time. "And it'll be our little secret!"

She didn't even want credit for it, another shock to his system.

"Thanks," he managed, finding his voice again. He admired his nails and bangs one last time, reminding himself to look in a mirror later to see the latter in full. "It's so cool. Really cool."

Her smile would put the sun to shame; him being happy never failed to make her happy too, which only heightened the effect this was having on him.

It occurred to him then that, if magic being real meant that fairytales might still be real too, he didn't have to worry anymore. Marinette was a fairy, not a princess, so the rules he'd imagined didn't apply to them, and she'd made it clear that he was important to her.

He might not've been a prince, but he felt like a king.

[fangirl-erdariel]

Sometimes it fucks me up that Túrin was so loved, by so many people. And it didn't save him, and arguably it was Húrin's love for him that doomed him in the first place, given the phrasing of the curse. But he was loved. So many people did their best to ensure that he lived, that he was safe, that he could be happy. I just. aaaaaaaaaaaaa ;_;

I think in some ways it's especially interesting when contrasted with Kullervo, one of the direct inspirations of the character. Because it's maybe in my eyes the single most crucial difference between the characters. Like, both of them are tragic heroes, who are stubborn, and deeply hurt and angry, and make rash choices in the heat of the moment that often end up digging the hole deeper than it had to be. Both also have sisters they don't meet until they're adults, have sex with them, the sister finds out and kills herself by jumping into a river, and the hero asks his sword whether it would like to kill him, the sword is like "yeah sure i've killed innocents too so why wouldn't i kill you", and the hero uses the sword to kill himself near the site where the sister did.

But Kullervo is not loved or cared for, the way Túrin is. Kullervo is left as a baby in the hands of the people who'd attacked his father's lands, and made to work, and when he proves to be more trouble than they bargained for, he is sold as a slave, treated poorly by the lady of the house he's sold to, shit like that. It's... kinda a central point of the story, really. The version Lönnrot put in the Kalevala (which is not the only version of the story that would've existed in oral tradition, but I am really not at all familiar with any other versions of the story that one might still be able to find, and in any case, the version presented in Kalevala was the one Tolkien knew and was inspired by) quite explicitly says that Kullervo couldn't adjust to living a normal life because he was raised by people who didn't care about him, and that children raised without love/by people who are abusive towards them are gonna be messed up and struggle to live and act in society

So, yeah, I don't know, it's really interesting (and also heartbreaking) to me how Morwen and Thingol and Melian and others in Silmarillion seem to almost be specifically making every effort to ensure that Túrin avoids that fate. Obviously Kalevala and the tale of Kullervo doesn't exist in the setting, but you know what I mean. The way they try to make sure that he is not enslaved, that he is not abused, that he is loved and safe. And yet, it fails. Because of the curse (which, as far as it comes from anywhere but Tolkien's mind, comes from inspirations other than Kalevala) he ends up on a path to destruction anyway

and just. yeah. it's interesting, looking at the way Túrin's story is in some ways in conversation with Kullervo's story. and it's also so sad, how much the characters *try* to avoid that path, that fate, with ultimately no success

[alipeeps]

Episode 19

SERIOUS SPOILERS in this one, jfc do NOT read ahead if you have not already watched ep 19!! 😭😭

Wait where did all the other demons go? We only saw Li Lun let one out and leave with her.

"You're the reason I have nothing" says Li Lun??

Ooooh Li Lun killed all the people keeping the demons in cages... and the "fight" we saw a glimpse of earlier was Zhu Yan stopping Li Lun from killing one more person.

So Zhu Yan was trying to stop Li Lun from indiscriminate killing, which would surely get him in trouble, and Li Lun saw it as Zhu Yan putting humans over demons and protecting people who had hurt demons...

Oh SHIT!! Oh wait! That flare of power when he stopped him was NOT intentional! It was the ever-burning fire branch that was absorbed into Zhu Yan.... and Li Lun is a fucking tree demon! He accidentally kinda set him on fire?

He didn't mean to hurt you Li Lun, just to stop you from killing!

Shit he killed the clinic patients, not even the bad guys who imprisoned the demons. As I said, indiscriminate killing. But as far as Li Lun is concerned, all humans are the same, all are guilty...

Okay point of order, how come Li Lun calls him Zhao Yuanzhou in these flashbacks? Cos I thought he only got given that name by the Baize Goddess, and I thought he only started spending time with her later on, when he was mired in sadness? The Zhu Yan in these scenes is still young and (relatively) carefree?

Uh, your Zhuo Yichen fanboy is showing Zhu Yan...

Ayyy gang to the rescue!

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! What the fuck did you do to my baby boy?!!!

Divine power?! Is Bai Jiu part-god? Is he like Ying Lei and half-demon, half-god?

Ugh, Zhu Yan telling the others to get Bai Jiu to safety and confronting Li Lun alone... except he is NOT alone because Zhou Yichen stayed with him!

Oh dang. Well, she wasn't wrong that Li Lun would want to torture her in front of Zhu Yan.

Ooooh so he WAS trying to curse her and control her into hating Zhu Yan.

Another thing I love about this drama is the realism... which sounds daft to say about a very much fantasy drama but what I mean is bits like this... when the script/story calls for a character to get wet/be submerged in water... they actually DO it. There's no CGI/fake underwater scenes, and no actors with hair and clothing that has basically just been spritzed so it is barely damp... they actually get them properly submerged and wet.

Yes boi, use that ice water power!!

Damn boy, you so fucken cool...

Oooh he cut him with a blade coated in his own blood... and therefore malicious energy...

"I now carry blood with malicious energy"... meaning.. he didn't before? Or just... his malicious qi levels weren't previously high enough that it infected his blood too? I mean... Li Lun obviously knew about him absorbing malicious qi, hence the whole blood moon plot...

Oh fucking GO Wen Xiao!!

Took that fucker by complete surprise and swiped his weapon right out of his hands!!

Smash it! See how he fucking likes it!

Okay that was dumb, you decided to try and use it instead.

Oooh we saw that earlier when he escaped after the seal was broken - the skin on his arm is turning woodlike...

Yup... as I had surmised... Zhu Yan accidentally damaged him with the ever-burning fire back then... and because he is a tree demon... the fire of that burn has never gone out. He's been burning in agony ever since.

Aaaaaand that's another nice helping of guilt for Zhu Yan, who no matter how he tries seems to keep hurting people due to things that are out of his control...

Oh shiiiiit so being sealed by the baize token actually controlled the fire from the ever-burning wood. Otherwise he would have burned to ashes.

So if she hadn't sealed him, he'd be dead. And now that the seal is broken... he is burning again...

Wait up is he actually burning up right now? Like he's gonna die now? With 13 eps left?

Jfc give Hou Minghao ALL the fucking acting awards!!

So... the big bad is dead and gone? And we're only just over half way through.

So... am guessing the plot will now revolve around how to avert the two impending disasters of:

the wilderness collapsing if the baize token cannot be repaired; and

Zhu Yan destroying the human world when he inevitably loses control of the malicious qi.

Oh and here comes Chongwu fucking camp to join the party...

Oh so the bowl had the Yao water in it? But now it's polluted with blood...

I wouldn't necessarily believe what Li Lun said dude...

Yeah keep telling yourself that babes....

Oh wait, I hadn't realised it was Chongwu Camp AND Demon Hunting Bureau together?!

And let me guess, the purpose behind this unprecedented cordial entente is... to kill Zhu Yan?

Oh, arrest him is it? So your guy can then kill him and take his core.

Pleeeeeease tell me Demon Hunting Bureau isn't gonna sign off on this shit?

Since when is Sijing the Prime Minister's representative?

Also, Wen Xiao, sweetie, you should NOT be relying on Sijing to back you up... she's a fucking mole for Chongwu Camp!!

Aaaand there it is.

Uuuuuh okay... so mum is not dead? And yeah... there sure is a lot to explain to your kid fella... like how the fuck he's got divine power?!!

Can't see how Chongwu Camp's prison could hold Zhu Yan any better than Demon Hunting Bureau's if he really wanted to leave? (Am not seeing any demon-power suppressing charms). So I guess for the moment he doesn't want to leave...

Oh my, has our boy Yichen finally managed to acknowledge that things aren't quite so simple as black and white?

He sure fucking is!

I'm... starting to wonder if the dude behind the mask is gonna turn out to be... said prime minister?

Ooooh I stand corrected, they did put a bunch of suppressing tokens in his cell....

(Ngl my whumper's heart is still kinda hoping he will get injured/tortured whilst his powers are suppressed.... come on Chongwu Camp... do this one thing for me... )

Oh shiiiiiiit the Prime Minister is the "scholar" who attacked the dragon mountain god. He's had it out for demons since the start!!

Uhhhh that's a new look for Wen Xiao?!! I'm gonna guess this is a demon pretending to be her? Perhaps the same one that was doing the same in Li Lun's dream world?

Oh MAN, he were go again with flashback city!! And Zhu Yan has fucking known from the start that Sijing was a Chongwu spy and has used it against them!!

Oohhhh those fuckers lied to her that her brother was still alive and tried to use that as leverage - not knowing that she already knew for certain he was definitely dead.

So she's been pretending to be their mole all this time... to help Zhu Yan find out what they are up to.

Ahhhhh fucking epic!!

So Chongwu camp has been using demons for research... just like the clinic Li Lun and Zhu Yan busted all those years ago?

Okay wait I am CONFUSED. It was only 8 years ago that he and Li Lun busted the clinic? And that's what Li Lun was sealed for (so he's only been sealed for 8 years?) and that's when Zhu Yan wigged out under the blood moon?

So... Zhu Yan had already been hanging out with baize goddess long before that? And been given her brother's name?

But was also visiting the mortal world with Li Lun, seemingly carefree? So this hairstyle...

and this....

were a matter of maybe days apart? Was the grey hairstyle just something he used for visiting the mortal world with Li Lun? But we also saw him with that hairstyle being reprimanded by Ying Zhao for visiting the mortal world when he hadn't fully mastered malicious qi, which I had assumed was when he was much younger? Which is why I had assumed the grey plaited hairstyle indicated younger Zhu Yan? But I guess not?

Oh damn... mystery mask dude is... Xiao Bai's master? Ngl I did NOT fucking see that coming!

And he's been experimenting on demons all this time?

Has... has he experimented on Xiao Bai? Is that why he has divine power and was worried when asked if he was a demon? Have this fucker used demon/divine blood on him?

Oh FUCK and that's why he wants Zhu Yan's core! For his experiments!! A great demon's core!

Ohhh fuck that doesn't sound good...

I think this might be a trap...

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

WHAT

THE

FUCK?!!

NO! Noooooooooo!!! Not my baby Xiao Jiu!!

I AM NOT OKAY!!!

[vampsquerade]

May I request König with fem! Reader who has anxiety and insomnia? (She sometimes stay late, but tries to keep a good hygiene.)

I relate to him a lot since he was bullied to and apparently has anxiety as well :( </3

Thank you in advance ❤️

hi anon, of course i can! thank you for requesting, i appreciate it so much :,) and same dude i was bullied too so i understand how it can be a little easy to relate to him 💕 sorry you experienced that, you didn’t and nobody else deserves to go through that.

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König x Female!Reader: Inner and Outer Strifes

Trigger Warnings: hurt/comfort, mentions of: past trauma, bullying, physical altercations; insomnia, anxiety, self destructive tendencies, self-doubt, relationship insecurities

Having someone who actually understood what it was like to go through anxiety attacks, whether they be in regards to social or emotional, made it all the better to get through with life. König always made sure to take care of you, as you would do the same for him. He pampered you, treating you so nicely as he eased you out of those intrusive thoughts that kept you trapped in your own head. The feelings of eyes staring at you, watching your every move always waned off whenever König comforted you. He would also do whatever he could to get you to go to bed, as you suffered from chronic insomnia as a result of your anxiety.

König would use himself as a form of weight for comforting pressure on you sometimes, wanting you to feel safe with him. Tonight was one of those nights where you struggled to sleep, no matter what König tried. “Meine liebe…how about we go and try a nice, warm bath, hm?” König asks as he strokes your cheek gently with the back of his hand. You sigh deeply before nodding your head. “Yeah, maybe that’ll help me this time around,” you say in a slightly hoarse and somewhat defeated tone of voice. König frowned, seeing how frustrated you were at your lack of being able to fall asleep at all.

He lifted you up carefully, taking you to the bathroom and sitting you down on the sink’s counter. You stare at König almost blankly as he turns the water on, watching his large and scarred hand moving under the water just to feel it get warm. You could see the tenderness in his eyes, and a slightly bitter smile seems to form on your face. Your eyes are filled with a sharp and indignant gaze, as if feeling wronged for the unfairness of your own thoughts. Part of you wants to just flat out ask the question that runs through your head over and over to talk about it, and another one fights and restrains that thought immensely.

You’d gone through just as much as he did as a kid, dealing with being bullied by your peers at every waking moment you sat down in those little seats. No matter what you did, they wouldn’t leave you alone; it’s where that sensation that thousands of eyes were watching you came from. It was an awful feeling because no matter how close someone got to you, it would create a barrier between you and the person you’ve come close to. The fact that you were doing this with König despite already having dated for a few months made you feel like shit.

So you popped the question.

“Do you actually enjoy doing this? Taking care of me every waking moment you’re here?” The way you phrase it seems to take the Austrian by surprise. He never expected you to ask him something so loaded. König’s head immediately whips to you, and he looks at you with his soft, blue eyes in disbelief. His own anxiety seems to spike slightly, and he stands up from his knees next to the bathtub as he lets it fill with water. “Of course I do. You and I come from similar walks of life—you’ve understood me far better than anyone else had,” he says softly. His large hand comes up to grab yours, fingers intertwining within your own.

König’s eyes shone in the light within the bathroom, but the gaze in his eyes showed a profound sadness. He would silently bring your hand up to his chest, pressing your now open palm against it. The sensation of his heart thumping hard in his chest as it rose and fell, and you can hear the Colonel give a hesitant chuckle. “Please…let me understand and love you as you have me…let me help teach you how to take better care of yourself and manage your anxieties…you know that I’m here for you, and that I would do anything for you…” König continues to speak, his voice growing ever softer.

In your head, remnants of you still continued to think this way and all you could do was blame it on those inner thoughts that never stopped. But from how adamant König was becoming, how he grew anxious at the thought of you doubting his love for you. “Meine liebe,” he begins, standing in front of you and holding you close to his chest. “Love comes without conditions…love is all about caring for one another without acting like it’s a burden,” he continues in a much gentler tone. He could see the doubt still lingering in your gaze, causing him to become a little more anxious that you couldn’t believe him.

“I promise you that I don’t mind taking care of you,” König continues to tell you, “I will do so until my dying days. Just to make sure you don’t ever end up alone ever again.” You look at the hulking man once more, staring at the way he gently moved himself to embrace you tightly. Instinctively, your arms and legs wrapped around him to comfort yourself more. “I’m sorry for doubting you,” you apologize, nuzzling your face into König’s chest and inhaling deeply. His natural musk was something you loved more than anything and it was the one thing that helped keep you calm.

He chuckles softly, giving you a chaste kiss on the lips before gently helping to undress you. “Now let’s get you that nice bath and we can try to get you to go to bed,” König says with a tender tone of affection in his voice. He then lifts you carefully and sets you down in the warm water, allowing for you to take in the comforting aromas of the soaps you were using. Your eyes close as König takes this as the chance to massage your back, whispering reassurances and affirmations into your ears. They sounded like the ones he normally used to keep himself calm in certain scenarios…it made you feel special.

After a few minutes of König rubbing your spine and shoulders, cleaning you up, he drains the water and gently starts to clean any excess soap off you with new water. He goes to grab a towel and warms it up for a minute, leaving you there with your thoughts again. Your anxieties and potential insecurities about your relationship and how much König takes care of you rear their ugly heads, but from how loving and gentle he was with you, they slowly dissipate. You look up and see him there, a smile on his face.

“Here, my love…let me lift you up…” The Colonel says as he wraps the towel around you. Its warmth against your body makes you so happy, filling you with a sense of safety as his massive arms wrap around you. König gently begins to dry you off after sitting you down on the sink’s counter again, doing so in such a slow manner that it felt so romantic. You couldn’t help but smile and reach your arms out to hold onto his face. König looks up at you, a bit confused, before his eyes go wide.

“Mmh-” He hums briefly, closing his eyes slowly and allowing you to kiss him. The way König wrapped his arms around you again now that you were dry was actually making you feel tired. You pull back just to cover your mouth as you yawn, making the Colonel smile and chuckle at you. “Feeling tired now, aren’t you? I won’t keep you awake for much longer…” König mumbles against your lips, leaning in for one more kiss after pushing your hand down.

The Austrian dresses you once more in newer, more comfortable sleeping clothes, and carries you back to your shared room. He turns the lights off and pulls the curtains shut after closing the door, having laid you back down on the bed prior to any of this. König finds himself cuddling up to you and putting his hands back onto your body.

The gentle squeeze as he began to rub your back up and down as a way to get you to sleep seems to do it’s trick.

Your eyes are shutting…

Breathing is slowing…

And your muscles are relaxing…

“I love you,” falls from your lips wearily as you hide your face into König’s comfortable chest. “I love you too, my love. Get some sleep,” he mumbles in a much softer and soothing tone. You finally seem to fall asleep after trying for so long and the Colonel follows suit once he makes sure you’ree completely asleep. Safe and protected right in his arms…

[fushiguwu]

I hate you. getou suguru

CHAPTER 5 from the Summer Fever’s serie!

ft. dilf!getou and college student!reader

warnings: slow burn, enemies to lovers, confessions, use of cigarette (not reader nor getou), kind of angst conversation, use of pet names, sexual tension, making out.

words: 7.4k

a/n: hey sorry for the late but as you can see it was a long chapter, maybe the longest of the serie. hope u like it!

“Sure you got everything?” says your roommate while you two walk to the passenger boarding bridge. She insisted on coming all the way to the airport with you. “Passport, ticket, phone?”

“Yes, I do. I swear. I’m not that dumb” you unconsciously roll your eyes. You know she’s just trying to help you, deep down. She stops you right before getting close to the gates. 

“You promise not to fall in for that guy again?” your friend asks, staring deep into your eyes, holding your wrist, as if she wouldn’t let go if you didn’t say so. You swallow dry and look away. 

You had almost forgotten about him as the year passed: the classes and exams made you busy enough to think about anything else for twelve months. Sometimes, Gojo would send you a message or two, asking how you were doing, if you were going to spend your summer with them, etc. and that’s when you remember him, what he did, what he didn’t. His fucking best friend. Goddamnit. Your blood boils of thinking about it, him and the possibility of seeing him again.

You were thinking about spending your summer break with Nobara, but with her new girlfriend living with her, you thought that maybe shouldn’t invade her privacy that way. She couldn’t be stuck with a third wheeler for one month. So you ask your mom to spend this summer at your grandma’s beach house: far from home and Suguru. Just you, mom, and her two dogs (Gojo included).  

So you say that to your friend, with different words: “Of course! It will be a family vacation. I won’t get a sight of him. Promise.” you let go of her hand. She looks at you hesitant, as if wasn’t sure yet to trust. “I promise” you emphasise. 

It took you a while to digest everything that happened on your summer break when you first arrived back at your dorms, staying almost absolutely silent for a day or two before telling everything gradually  to your roommate. You were still a mix of sadness and anger and she seemed as shocked and upset as you did. She noticed you became hesitant about meeting other people and going to bars or parties after all of that: everytime she went off to a freshman party you chose to stay home and study, or watch a movie alone. Perhaps you were too traumatised to hook up with someone again, she worriedly thought. 

The truth is: you knew no one in there would be your stepdad’s friend or any related to your family again, you just didn’t feel the need to go out with some frat boy or veterans anymore. After being with someone as old and experienced as the fucker one, you unfortunately developed a very poor tolerance for boys your age. You did go to a party or two after the start of semester, but all those guys had such a boring talk: it was always about bragging what they had, what their parents had, how much time they spent working out or doing some sport, normally followed by them showing you their muscles. Needless to say it was all too pitiful —Of course there was a bit of trauma too, but it was mostly just indisposition. 

You hear the last call for the flight and hug her goodbye. She asked you to let her know when you arrived, as you showed the stewardess your ticket and headed inside the platform. 

The flight went well besides the time you spent sitting down on an uncomfortable armchair. Your mom got you on the airport and you went straight to the beach house. The sea horizon looked singularly beautiful as the gradient twilight became darker, and you closer to your destination. The wooden house was just across the beach, only for a thin one way street separating; the facade showed lots of windows, a triangular roof and a little balcony with nothing but a rocking chair and some sand, just above the entrance ladder. As you enter, it was more explicit to be a house owned by an older, and didn’t change a thing since the last time you were there: all the furniture seemed freezed on time, including the tube TV sitting on a small table beside the fireplace. Fortunately, the kitchen had a refrigerator and a microwave, and the bathrooms, hot water. The second floor had three rooms, two with a double bed and one with three single beds, which you thought were the one your mom would sleep in when she was little, with the other kids, the same as you did when you were. 

So you left your suitcase in the second double bedded room, with a huge window to the beach.  At this time, the sun had already set, and you could only hear the waves crashing and have the sight of the beachfront by the pole lights. The street had a very low traffic, reinforcing the neighbourhood’s lack of nightlife and making you realise that would really need to bear a whole summer without any kind of escape from Satoru’s annoyance. 

You were craving for an hour or two in a very hot bathtub but, talking about annoyance, someone wouldn’t stop ringing the bell downstairs while you were about to get inside the water. You screamed for your mom to open the door. No answer. Then Gojo, who didn’t answer as well. While the ringbell keeps doing its work. Fine. You put your clothes back on, giving up on your very deserved bath and heading downstairs with such frustration that you could swear you’d break the floor below at each step if you could.  You look inside the kitchen before attending the door and find a fucking Satoru making dinner with headphones, dancing like he had no shame —and he probably didn’t. 

“Satoru!” you try to scream to him. Of course, he doesn’t hear you and keeps on babbling a song while mixing something in the pan. You walk into him and take one of his headphones off. “Turn that heck down!” you scream at him again, and now he definitely listens. “What is that?”, he asks so calmly you forget why you’re mad at him for a moment. But a very brief moment. 

“There’s someone knocking on the door for ten minutes now! Are you deaf? Where’s mom?” you could notice he stops for a second to think. “Uhm, probably sleeping. She said she was tired”

You became even more dumbfounded. “How could someone sleep with this hellacious noise?” 

Satoru shrugs. “Don’t know. Answer it for me, please” And unhappily you go. 

You open the door, pulling it with more force than you’d do normally, giving the person behind it a definitely not happy face, and it becomes strongly unhappier as you realize who you were facing. The black haired man looks as surprised as you, with his phone in hands, showing that he was trying to call Satoru at least ten times. He had a suitcase and three more people behind his silhouette. 

“What are you doing here?” you and Suguru say in unison, arching one eyebrow each. You got a bit offended for him to have the courage to ask you this, actually. 

“Well, this is my family’s house?” you say, almost mocking at him. You unconsciously think he was still good looking, and just after that cringes from this intrusive thought. All his beauty had been fogged instantly by your remorse. 

“Well, me and my family have been invited to stay here, by Satoru and your mom”, now he was the one that seemed offended. When you were about to answer him a really bad thing, Gojo showed behind you, as happy as he could ever be, hugging his friend and apologising for not answering him sooner. You give them enough space to pass through the open door and as Gojo and Getou came in, you could now see Mimiko and Nanako’s bringing their own suitcases up the ladder and their mom, as beautiful as she’s ever been, right behind them. You swallow dry. The whole troop’s present and all your plans are turned upside down, in less than a day on vacancy. 

As you help your friends to get inside with their way-too-heavy-for-a-vacancy suitcases, you see that your mom is now chatting with Suguru and her husband, seeming not to notice you are fighting for your life to move those damn bags. You clean your throat loud enough to get her attention and ask where they would sleep —and, as you guessed, in the three single beds’ room. You just didn’t expect her to say you were going to sleep with the two girls there too. “What? Why?”

“Uhm, because Suguru and his wife are going to stay in the second double bedded room, and you don’t need such a big bed for yourself” your mom says to you almost as it’s obvious, and you don’t know why, but listening to that made your ears and tummy hurt. Suguru’s wife. Of course they are going to sleep together. Of course you are staying in the room with his daughters. Of course. 

So you ask for Mimiko’s help and carry her suitcase upstairs to your now shared room, heading to your ex bedroom once it’s done so you can sadly carry your own bag too. You remained silent while undoing your baggage into the wardrobe. You thought that doing it first, as you didn’t have as many things with you as the other two, would be easier than finding space inside it after they tidy their stuff. Gojo called for dinner and the girls ran downstairs as quickly as he spoke; their trip must’ve been a bit long too. 

Definitely having dinner together with Suguru wasn’t on your plans for today—nor for the whole month, so you choose your almost forgotten bath: with your clothes on hands you head up to the bathroom just across. The door opens to a shirtless Suguru, drying his recently washed hair with a pink towel while had a white one tied to his hips. You look away, ashamed and a bit angry for him to feel comfortable enough to walk through practically naked. The gears on your head start to spin and you realise the pink towel he’s using to dry out his hair was your towel. Your fucking pink towel. He was about to enter his room when you almost ran to him and pulled the towel from his hands. Suguru turns to you with a question mark above his head, which makes you angrier. 

“That’s my towel!” you say absolutely revolted. How could he be so shameless? Getou looks at you indifferently. “Is it, now?” He passes his hands through his long and silky hair semi dried, “Well, you can use it. I’m finished” and closes his door in your face. You blink once or twice with your mouth opened, not wanting to believe he actually did this. Your towel was soaked now and you’d have to use it like this. Fuck! Fuck him!, you thought, turning around to take your not so comfortable bath now. Before entering it, though, you say a “Fuck you!” loud enough for him to hear on the other side of the corridor, through his door. 

You actually did take a one hour bath, more because you spent almost the whole time staring angrily at your towel schematizing your vengeance. He knew that towel wasn’t his, so why the hell didn’t he ask for a new one to dry his hair out? You couldn’t think about anything else. You knew he did it purposely. 

So you got out and dried yourself with your Suguru-stinking towel,  still a bit wet. You put on your clothes and leave the bathroom, taking your pink towel with you. At this time the dinner had ended and you lost your appetite for the angry fogginess. Perhaps, deepdown, you’re not even mad about the towel anymore, just want some good reason to show him you did not forgive what he did to you. You head back to your shared room and the girls are chitchatting about celebrities biffing. You pretend to be interested in the conversation and laid down on your bed with the door open to see when Getou would come out with his pretty and dearing towel back to the bathroom, where you were going to accidentally drop it inside the full bathtub. Poor Suguru. 

Or maybe poor you, as the seek for revenge reveals weaker than your tiredness, and as you waited to succeed your scheme, fell asleep in a few minutes. It’s hard to be bad and sleepy, unfortunately. 

Only when you dreamt about tearing his towel apart with scissor hands, you realised you were sleeping, and woke up in a jump. The girls were sleeping too now, and the house was so dark you could see nothing but the things the yellow pole light outside shined. It was definitely midnight, and you definitely failed your plan. And you failed to fulfill your stomach, that is now hurting and screaming at your foolishness. You walk outside the room seeing barely nothing, trying to get to the kitchen without waking up anyone. The wooden stairs were so noisy that you frowned at every cracking step you made. 

You would‘ve headed straight to the kitchen if only the tube tv wasn’t turned on. It showed an eight's movie with the sound muted, but for the bloody scenes it was probably a horror one. As you were about to turn it off, you heard a loud breath coming from the sofa and almost fainted from the sudden sound. You turned around and found a deeply asleep Suguru, with his hair now completely dry and only a cushion below his head. He looked so defenseless like this you started regretting plotting to ruin his towel. He was probably watching that movie and fell asleep, as tired from his trip as you were. You actually felt a bit of pity for him sleeping on such an uncomfortable couch with not even a blanket. You hated to admit it, but you did grab a blanket that stayed in a little chest beside the fireplace and threw it above him. Of course you did it only because he was your mom’s guest, nothing personal. 

You woke up the next day to the noise of the girls taking clothes out of their suitcases, searching desperately for a pair of bikinis. The sun was shining through the opened window and it took you a while to adjust to the clarity in the room; by the height of the star and the weak warmth coming in, it was early in the morning and they were already this electrical. 

“You guys should take the cue and put your clothes in the wardrobe”, you say, lazily sitting on your bed and scratching your eyes. They both look at you puppy-like. 

“I think we forgot our bikinis at home, we’re screwed!” Mimiko looked like the floor would disappear under her feets at any moment, as if they wouldn’t be capable of going to the beach —which is just across the street, if not wearing a swimsuit. 

“There’s a pair or two of mine inside the second drawer, you can take it if it fits. I’ll take one of my mom’s“, and the two girls go search for it almost immediately. You get up to your mom’s room to see if she actually has a pair of swimsuits leftover. You find a cute black one and head to the bathroom to change yourself and other stuff you usually do in the morning. Besides the girls' drama, the house was silent, you didn’t even hear the tv on, nor Gojo’s loud voice, so you conclude they were probably at the beach already. Soon enough, you hear Mimiko and Nanako talking about being scared of fishes and going down the stairs.  

Having the house all for yourself for once was nice, you really enjoyed having your breakfast without an annoying Satoru complaining about you not eating enough. From inside the kitchen, you could hear the waves crashing; the anxiety to finally feel your toes on the sand coming towards you. So, when you finish eating and see yourself ready to meet the girls on the beach, you see Suguru entering the kitchen through the door that leads to the backyard, with a stupid fishing hat and rod. Why does he pass through every door you’re close to? Well, at least you didn’t need to ask him what he was up to, and with whom he was doing it, as Satoru passed the two of you with his own fishing rod and hat leaning on his shoulders, walking as idiotically as he always does, to the entrance door. 

“We are going fishing”, says Suguru, after a few seconds of awkward silence in the room, as you both follow Gojo and his stupid walk until he passes through the front door. You drink the coffee from your mug, looking at him from head to toe. Then, looked at Suguru and did the same thing: flip flops, camouflage shorts, a button up shirt with Hawaiian flower print —not to mention the hat with two or three visible holes in it. He could say you were judging it. all of it. 

“…Indeed” you said for politeness, as he was still standing there waiting for you to say something. Actually, he was the one who looked like wanted to say something else, gathering courage —or perhaps trying to swallow his pride. Suguru finally clears his throat before speaking:

“Thank you for the blanket yesterday” he says, fast, faster than he’s ever done talking to you. Getou, then, walked away from the kitchen, as if he was too embarrassed to thank you and to stay and listen to your answer, or even scared of your answer. His gratitude surprised you, though, as you thought he was dead asleep. Maybe he was a light sleeper, you wonder. You take the last sip and put your mug inside the sink. 

“Yeah. Whatever” he is about to leave the kitchen and you stay there a minute or two to avoid walking next to him to the beach. Just now you noticed your face getting hot and redder. It was, for sure, the hot coffee you just drank. Of course. 

You, your mom, Getou’s wife and daughters spent the whole day on the beach. Mimiko and Nanako took a bunch of pictures together before heading into the water, while you stayed there watching Gojo’s boat entering the open sea and listened to the moms talking about the good weather. The monotony you expected for a vacation, finally. Later that day everyone had the fishes the fishing duo brought home. Not you, though: you had the misfortune to watch them preparing the poor fishes and lost your appetite. So you had the leftovers from lunch for dinner. You saw Suguru sleeping watching movies that night too. 

“But I don’t want to” you try to say to your mom while she walks you to the garage. 

“Honey, it will be quick. You just need to buy a cute present for the girls” the car was parked on and you could see Suguru in the driver's seat and his wife by his side. Mimiko and Nanako had spent the whole morning on the beach and went napping after lunch, that’s when your mom dragged you to this situation. 

“But why both of them, if it’s only Mimiko’s birthday?” you stopped a few meters away from the car and spoke as low as you could, trying not to be rude with the girls’ parents just there. Your mom looked at you with a funny smile, like you were joking. Until she figures out you were not.

“…They are twins, honey.” What? Since when? 

“What do you mean, mom? The party last year was Mimiko’s only!” you whispering screams to her.  

“No, Nanako threw a surprise party for Mimiko, but it was her birthday too. They are your friends, how did you not know?”

“I don’t know… But they looked pretty alike, indeed.“ your mom rolls her eyes at you, laughing, and pushes you into the car, as Suguru honked lowly. “It’s our secret”, she says, putting the seatbelt on you. 

You could finally see his car closely: the same you saw taking the girls off your house, one year ago. It was huge inside, the seats in white leather and the sunroof above your head cleared the trip. It was a silent route until the nearest city, except for the times Getou’s wife asked something about your life to break the ice, such as ‘how is the college, what about the french boys, what do the girls like to do when you’re together?’ of course you omitted a little information on the last question… 

As expected, Suguru spent the whole time without speaking a single word, but you felt your heart race a bit faster when his wife asked the boys question and he looked straight at you through the rearview mirror, and waited for your answer as much as she did. You just said they did not interest you, looking away from the black haired man. 

The car parked close to a mall and the three of you walked inside to pick a present. You wanted to get a teddy bear or something, but their mom wanted to give them a pair of dresses. Yeah, it was probably better. Suguru went out of sight to look for a present himself. 

“What if it doesn’t fit them?” you ask, showing the two clothes on the hanger, black for Nanako and white for Mimiko. Both same number. Getou’s wife took the black one from your hands and hung it close to your torso, like she was measuring you. 

“You lent them your swimsuit, didn’t you? Then the dress is probably fitting you, too. And if it fits you, it must fit the girls” and pushes you along with the black dress to the fitting room; everything happened so quickly, you were still processing her sentence. You came out once finished to show her, the dress fits almost perfectly on your body, emphasising all your curves and showing off your shoulders. It was not too short, but not too long either: the perfect size to not be either nun nor vulgar.

“You look gorgeous!” you could hear her saying, but the moment you opened the curtain your eyes met immediately with Suguru’s. He had a gift bag in hands and was talking to his wife, something you couldn’t hear. And then he looks at you. And you forget all for a minute. His eyes, such beautiful raven eyes shining to you, completely mesmerised, staring from head to toe. Staring so much, you started getting shy and tried covering your body, insecure; which he noticed and looked away, ashamed as well. Just then you remember his wife was still talking and you smile at her. 

You changed back to your clothes and they bought the two dresses. You ended up buying a pair of teddy bears for the girls too. The way back went silent and, this time, Suguru didn’t look at you through the reflection. Not once. 

He was the first one to get off the car when you arrived, taking his present with him; you could hear the girls screaming from inside in happiness a few moments later.

“I noticed the way he looked at you” Suguru’s wife was looking at the sunsetting on the beach as spoke, and you were about to open the car’s door to leave. ”I’m not stupid.” 

You didn’t know what to say, or if you even should say something. 

“We are not together anymore, but you know that, don’t you?” She takes a moment to speak again, as lightened the single cigarette she kept in her pocket and rolls down the car windows. “Satoru and your mom keep on saying we’re together, since me and Suguru still live in the same house. The truth is: we have been divorced for two years now. You want to know why?” You didn’t need to answer. 

“Because I cheated on him. I cheated on him with a coworker, and then I felt so bad, I told him. And I knew it was over the moment I said to him, but I did. And I can’t go back now.” 

“You wanted to?” you dare to ask after two minutes of complete silence. She smiled and, for the first time in the conversation, looked at you. 

“More than anything. I still love him. He is the best thing that ever happened to me, the love of my life, the father of my children. And what a wonderful father he is.” She smiles alone. “He has lots, lots of problems, but he loves our girls with all his heart.” That confession made your heart tight into your chest and you looked away, not knowing why you felt so hurt hearing such words. Or maybe you knew, and decided to pretend you don’t. 

“You have no idea how it hurts to be looked at with cold, indifferent eyes, everyday. He tries to politely ask me to leave at least once in three months, but I always give him an excuse, hoping that, if I stay there, he will love me again…” you heard her voice cracking and knew she was crying, but couldn’t see her face. “But it’s over now. And it’s been hard for me to accept that, for a long time. I knew he went out to bars, that he met other women, but he never seemed to be affected by them. Of course, he didn’t talk to me about it, but I knew it from looking into his eyes every time he came back home late at night: meaningless, empty, cleaning a lipstick stain off his neck. It happened every weekend, and I never spoke a word, just stayed there, waiting for the time he would arrive, even hurting badly, because I knew it’d hurt more the day he came with sparkles in his eyes, when he truly met someone else." She finishes her cigarette and puts it out the window, then opens the door and gets out of the car, looking at you as asking to do the same. You do, taking the present bag in your hands, not saying a single word. It was already dark outside. 

“And, of course, it happened. Later than I expected, but it did. I noticed the way he started taking care of himself again, his good humor. He was actually talking to me, sometimes. Suguru planned the surprise party with Nanako, since she doesn’t , but Mimiko does. He gave her the pass to invite anyone she wanted to the party and, as I heard, Mimiko loved it. And I heard you were there, too” and looked at you, waiting for your response. It took you by surprise and, on a jump, you answered her a shy ‘yes’. She gives you a weak laugh. 

“He did the party not only for Mimiko, but because he knew you’d go. He knew you were friends with the girls. And it all makes sense now”  Your chest falls to the ground. The emerging anxiety. You felt it coming from the beginning. The moment she would say what you were most afraid of. Your legs started shaking. You can hear her laughing lowly again. “The way you two stared at each other when Satoru introduced you, I could see his heart falling from his chest, and you ran off as soon as yours started escaping through your eyes. Then, he ran too, not a bit worried about disguising. Neither of you.”

“Did you…?” you try to ask, hesitantly. “Hear your discussion? Yes. And I want you to know that he truly felt something for you. After that day, he stopped going out to bars and walked around like a ghost in our house, getting outside his deskroom only to visit Satoru.  I won’t lie, at first I was happy that you two didn’t work, but later I saw that it wouldn’t make him want me again…”  

You didn’t know what to feel. All this time feeding your hatred, all this time thinking he used you. His wife —or better, ex wife, stopped in front of you now, holding your hands. You could now see the smudged mascara on her face and the red eyes from the tears. It almost made you cry too. “You shouldn’t suffer anymore, neither of you. I  don’t know if you feel something for him yet, but talk to him, speak your truth. At least try. He deserves to be happy again.” 

And as she says it, looking deep into your eyes, Suguru shows up to turn off the car. You can hear him asking ‘why are you taking so long?’ from afar. The woman swipes the tears off her eyes and gives you a small smile before leaving. 

You see Getou getting closer and seeing his ex wife walking away, clearly not understanding what happened, and too hesitant to ask. You walk inside too, silent, still processing everything that she told you. 

A week and a half later passed and you didn’t talk to him. Nor to anyone, practically. You now knew he wasn’t sleeping in the living room unintentionally, and you observed that he would only enter their room to change after a bath when she was downstairs. It all made sense now.

You actually avoided staying much time in the same room as him after that conversation. You felt so confused with everything and everytime you tried to formulate a coherent discussion in your head, ended up mad alone. Even after all she said, you were still angry and remorseful. 

To try and quieten your mind, you started to walk alone to the beach at night with only a towel to sit on, as watched the waves crashing into the sand for a moment; the cold night wind kissed your skin painfully as you always forgot a coat. Sometimes, like this one, you brought an old book from your grandma’s shelf, just to pass the time without thinking much. 

“May I sit?” you hear a very known low voice from behind you ask. Fuck. For that sentence alone made you shiver more than the sea’s cold breeze. You ran from him the whole time and when you finally found a place to escape his appellant presence, Suguru shows up like it’s nothing. 

“No” you answer, turning the books page —not reading at all. He sits anyway, making the beach towel sink deeper into the sand. You do not even try to disguise your discontent with his presence, “Why are you so inconvenient?” 

“You forgot your coat on the couch” you look at him, searching for it in his hands, then look up, waiting for him to give it to you. He smiles at your confused face and you know he will laugh any moment. “What? I didn’t bring it with me” It made you remember why he and Satoru were best friends.

“Then why the fuck did you say it?” you get up, close your book and move away from Suguru, heading back home. That was the final drop. Everything he did made you angry and other many feelings you hate having. You can hear him screaming ‘wait’s from behind but didn’t mind looking back. 

You felt his hand reaching yours as you stepped on the entrance balcony; you looked down, Suguru was recovering his breath. His ebony hair messed by the wind covered his already low lighted face. You pull your hand back, huffling. “What is it that you want, Getou?” 

“Mai said you had something to say to me” he says, thinking you knew what he was talking about. “She told me you would be in the beach” 

“Who is Mai?” you ask him, as it was obvious you don’t know. 

“…My ex wife?” oh. Of course it was her. Of course she would say something if you didn’t for long. And how did she know you were going to the beach at night? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! You take a deep breath and try to look calm to him:

“I’m sorry, but I ain’t got nothing to talk about with you. She must have been mistaken” and you walk away. Again, he stops you from reaching the door. “Fuck! What!”

“You’re lying.” Suguru looked like a mountain blocking your way, his perfume inebriating your thoughts, giving you an almost headache. You try to say that you’re not, but he doesn’t let you finish: “I know you are. You’ve been all quiet since the girls birthday” 

“And what does it have to do with you?” you rasply stay on the defensive, not letting Suguru get a thing from you — 

“It has. I know. Don’t act foolish.” you say a hard ‘i’m not’ and he starts getting actually bothered at your brattiness. You only noticed he was blocking your way out by literally putting you against the wall. “Let me go, Suguru.”

“What happened to ‘Getou’, huh? I thought we weren’t acquaintances.“ you can see him arching his eyebrow within the yellow street light. He was turning the game against you. You looked away and gulped. “Why do you always have to be such a fucking brat? Can’t you act like a grown adult for a second?” Suguru had his hand beside your head and looked straight into your eyes, deeply. “Answer me. Answer or I won’t let you go.” 

You knew, deep down, that he would let you go even if you didn’t say anything, but his gloomy stare made you feel otherwise. “It’s you. You are my problem, Suguru. Are you happy now?” his gaze softened a bit on surprise, as he wasn’t expecting for you to really speak. “I’m fucking tired. I ain’t got a day of peace in my life since I met you. I asked my mom to come to this fucking house because I wanted to avoid you and, as a result, I’m stuck here with you and your family for three weeks. It’s like the most I run from you, the more I come closer. I can’t take this anymore” you were almost crying as finally overflowed your feelings. “And you think it’s been easy for me, now? Do you think it’s easy when all you do is treat me like shit?” Getou spoke so loud that he had to lower himself mid sentence to not wake everyone sleeping inside. “You deserve it all.” you two shared a stare as sharp as a sword, as deadly as a poison. 

“For what, you spoiled little brat? Huh? Tell me.” his face was as close to yours as it could be. His angry face made you swallow dry and feel your cheeks warm; his arms on each side of your head kept on preventing you from leaving. It wasn’t going as planned. 

“For wanting your bestfriend’s stepdaughter, who is your daughters friend as well, and playing with her feelings.” you raised your head, proudly.

“I never played with your feelings, darling.” the black haired man said it so softly you almost felt for it all again just by being called a pet name. 

“And what about you knowing I was your bestfriend’s stepdaughter, huh?” He gulped.

“...Is that a crime?”  You sarcastically laughed, not believing he actually answered you this. 

“Fuck off, Getou. I’m tired of this shit.” and you move his blocking elbow, heading to the entrance door. Fuck it, fuck him. It will never change, he just wants to fucking use you.

“Wait, it was a joke.” he says your name a couple times but you enter the house anyway, leaving the door open, as you knew he’d come after. “Wait, I didn’t know it was you when we first met!” Suguru tries an ultimatum to get your attention, which he succeeds. You turn around and stop to listen to him finally speak his truth, after a year: “Satoru showed us a picture of his wedding where you appeared. I asked him who you were, as I didn’t attend it. He said your name, and that you were his new stepdaughter. Then, I forgot about it.” you kept on quiet, not knowing if you should believe him or not.

“I didn’t approach you that night at the bar knowing who you were. I was actually observing you for a while before, I’m not the kind of guy to do that. I don’t usually approach women, just stay there waiting for some to come to me, but that night, I felt that I had to try it on you. I don’t know why. I did think your face looked familiar, but it had been such a long time, I didn’t remember the picture anymore. Just when you said your name it came to my mind: it was the same name Satoru told me. And, then, it was too late already. I tried to keep my distance after that, but it was so hard. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I told Nanako to throw a party knowing that she would meet you days after and invite you; I stayed home hoping to find you there, even knowing how risky it was for the girls to find out. I don’t know what you did to me or why I felt that way.” Suguru looked so nervous while speaking, like he had never shared his feelings like this ever in his life; his guard was so down, he seemed so vulnerable, as you’d never think would see him. You didn’t know what to say nor feel anymore. “Please, believe me. I can’t keep on with you hating me anymore.” 

“So you confess you knew I’d be your daughters friend and threw a party just to get me? So you were, indeed, using me?” you spoke after a moment of pure silence in between. Suguru couldn’t believe his ears. 

“Fuck! I just confessed to you, girl! You only listen to what you want, don’t you?” He seemed desperate now; you laughed at him, having fun on his frustration. You were actually happy to finally hear him confessing, but wanted to throw a tantrum anyway. Just because.

“Stop screaming. I don’t feel like forgiving you yet. You still used me, Suguru. Goodnight.” and you turn your back to him, heading to your room, laughing lowly by yourself. You hear him saying a ‘come back here’ and his steps coming after you. You try to run from him but the next thing you see is his back upside down, as he puts you up his shoulders. You wanted to scream but knew it’d wake the house, so you stap his back as hard as you could —not making a single scratch, though. Getou throws you on the couch he’s been sleeping for the last few weeks, and it smelled exactly like him. 

When you open your eyes, Suguru is on top of you, his long silky hair strands falling into your face, giving you tickles. You only noticed he was holding your wrists once you tried getting up. His face slightly changes and gets closer until you feel his lips on your neck. “What are you doing?”

“What are you doing?” He repeats your question. “I want you to forgive me, then do it” his voice was lower than usual. All Getou did was smell your beachy skin and only that shivers you from head to toe.

“You think I’m going to forgive you like this?” you try to look indifferent but are actually shaking inside. And you hate that you’re feeling it. You hate how easy he can get you again. 

“Yes. Is it working?” Suguru looks up at your face and you look away fastly. He smiles against your skin. He knows it is. 

“N-no” Fuck. Your voice betrays you once again. You gulp n shame and clear your throat before speaking: “It is not. Let go of me, please.”

“Do you truly want me to get off? Then say it.” You don’t answer and turn your head, trying to avoid his stare. He laughs at your face. “You can’t, right?”

“Fuck you.” Now you do answer and look back at him, who, as you knew, was already looking at you with a mother-fucking-son-of-a-bitch-he-is-an-asshole smile on his face. “Fuck me, love? That’s what you want?” your face turns hot. erupting hot. 

“I hate you.” you firmly say, but the heat on your face starts running down your body. He comes closer to your face, so close you felt his breath, his ebony gaze not blurring once. He lets go of your wrists and holds his weight on one arm supported beside your head. “Say it again”

“I hate you, Suguru. I fucking hate you for everything you’ve done.” 

He touches his lips on yours, not moving a single bit. Your whole body shivers feeling his free hand opening your thighs for him to fit in between. Your breath fails for every move of his and you stay there, static. He retreats his face a bit and stops for a moment, just staring at you. Then he clicks his tongue and starts getting up “Well, that’s it, then. If you don’t want me anymore, there’s nothing I can do about it.” you have a small panic, your body responds before you could even think and pull him over you again, desperately smashing your lips straight to his mouth. You could feel him smile, as if his plan had succeeded. 

You hated to admit, but it felt just like the first time. You felt your heart exploding, your whole body tingling, you didn’t want to let him go ever again. You unconsciously moan on his lips and he moves away to mock you. “Fuck you” you say, as he responds “I’m going to”. 

His left hand squeezed your ass the same time he started putting your shorts down, in pure desire. If you asked Suguru what day was, he wouldn’t know what to respond, the only thing passing through his head was you. you. you all along. “I missed you, love” he whispers in your mouth like a secret you’d swallow. “I missed you so much. I’m so sorry”, he kept on confessing between kisses, not giving you any opening to answer back. But, of course, you missed him too. Missed passing your fingers through his silky raven hair, smelling his delicious cologne, kissing his pretty lips. And, the most, missed his rough touch on your body. He made you feel like no other boy your age could ever do. 

“I wan’ you so much, Sugu, please.” you were practically begging him to do something more than kissing your lips feverishly, and you knew he was doing it purposely. He wanted to provoke you for being a brat. “But I thought you hated me, baby, what ur’ so eager for?” you whine loudly and he rubs his hard bulge on his sweatpants in your covered pussy just to stir you up.

When you were about to kiss him again, the two of you hear the creaking stairs and froze, looking at each other widened eyes. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! 

“Dad?” you could hear Mimiko's voice as she looked for the light switch at the end of the ladder. Suguru fastly gets up and you look for your shorts to put on. He throws his blanket over his pants and you get up from the couch, pretending to be speaking something with him. All of this happened so fast but you felt like minutes had passed when the girl finally turned the light on. You squeezed your eyes to the sudden change. “Oh, you’re here. I was going to ask dad to get you on the beach. You forgot the movie night? Gosh, it’s freezing here.” she says while hugging her arms. Movie night. Of course. 

“N-no, I was just heading up. Getou and I were talking about, huh…” 

“—She was telling me the time to feed Princess, that’s it.” Thank god Suguru took the hint. You nodded and smiled at her, who didn’t really care.

“Uh, are you guys finished, then? Let’s get going, Nanako was almost asleep when I came down” Mimiko turns around and goes upstairs again.  You look at Suguru and he smiles at you, as giving you the permission to go without feeling bad about it. 

“Sorry…” you say and walk to where he is sitting to give him a kiss goodnight before heading to your room. 

Fuck. 

[kimmie2me]

Greeny Ghost

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Ghost!Midoriya Izuku x AFAB!fem reader

.....

The alley stretched out longer than you’d thought, shadows swallowing the corners, broken only by dim streetlights. You’d walked down plenty of places like this before, but this one was unnervingly quiet. Your friends were supposed to be with you, daring you into the so-called “haunted” alley, but when you turned back, you saw—no one. Just empty space.

“Those jerks,” you muttered, kicking a stray pebble with an irritated huff. Just your luck to get abandoned in the middle of a ghost story.

That’s when you saw him: a faintly glowing figure at the far end of the alley, barely visible in the low light, his form flickering like static on an old TV. He wore a junior high uniform, like he was frozen in time, but it was his eyes, wide and curious, that had you rooted to the spot.

"What the hell." You blurted out, which caused the ghost to jump a bit.

“You… you can see me?” he asked, sounding more surprised than you felt.

“Guess so,” you replied warily, feeling your fists clench. You took a step back, but he stayed still, watching you with something close to wonder. “A-are you the… ghost? Y'know.. that one ghost?”

“No. I mean, yes, but… not like… like an evil ghost!” he said, frowning as he waved his hands in the air, trying to seem harmless. “I don’t hurt anyone or anything. I just… hang around.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? So why are there all those rumors about people going missing in this alley?”

He let out a dramatic sigh. “I have no idea! I’ve been here for years, and no one ever went missing because of me.” His arms crossed, and he gave you an indignant look, clearly offended. “I keep watch over the place. There’s a run-down building nearby, and sketchy people use it for… whatever sketchy people do. I’m just here observing them, making notes sometimes.”

“Uh-huh,” you said, unconvinced. “Sounds like something an evil ghost would say. Plus, why would anyone believe some… green-haired ghost taking notes?”

His frown deepened and he sighed. "Really? 'Green-haired ghost? I have a name and identity, you know? My name is Midoriya Izuku."

You shrugged, giving him a skeptical look. “Sure, whatever. and I'm giving you a new identity: ‘Greeny Ghost.’ Also, how am supposed to trust you? You're a ghost and the movies basically explain what you're supposed to do. Just don't haunt me or I'll pour holy water down your throat.”

He threw his hands up. “Why are you making this harder than it has to be? I’m just here because I, well, exist here.” His voice softened a bit, frustration giving way to a hint of sadness. “It’s not like I can go anywhere else.”

“Yeah, and every creepy spirit says that before they drag you into some other world and keep you locked up for eternity,” you replied with a smirk, folding your arms in a show of exaggerated defiance. “Sorry, but I’m not falling for the ‘poor trapped ghost’ act.”

Izuku groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose as if your words were physically painful. “You remind me so much of Kacchan! In a bad way!”

You raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Uh-huh. And what, or who, the hell is ‘Kacchan’?”

Izuku looked at you, his face twisting into an expression halfway between exasperation and resignation. “Kacchan! My… a friend from junior high. Sort of. He’s… well, actually, no, he’s nothing like you.” Izuku seemed to rethink this, blinking in realization. “He’s a lot worse.”

“Wow. So you’re saying I’m less tolerable than some guy named Kacchan, who, by the sound of it, doesn’t sound like someone with a good rep?” you said with mock offense, pressing a hand to your chest. “Way to compliment a girl, Greeny-Ghost.”

He looked like he was about three seconds away from floating back through the alley wall, giving up on this ridiculous exchange.

You look at him a bit more closer, and you note he looked about your age, but… different. Ghostly, of course, but there was something else, something in his eyes that almost seemed… lonely. You didn’t know if you believed him, but something about him made you stay.

“What’re you even doing here?” you finally asked, taking a careful step forward. "Are you trapped here or something?"

“Besides not being evil?” he shot back, still salty. But when he saw you weren’t about to leave, he sighed, softening. “A villain got me… in this alley. I was just a kid, and I never really… left, I guess. People pass by now and then, but nobody usually sees me.” He shifted, looking suddenly uncertain. “Actually, you’re the first one to ever talk to me.”

You studied him, noticing the worn edges of his uniform, the tired, resigned look in his eyes. He seemed less scary and more… well, kind of tragic. Still, you weren’t about to let your guard down. “Yeah, well, maybe people hear the creepy noises you make,” you challenged. “Y'know it freaks them out.”

He blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Oh! You mean the notes? I’m trying to keep track of the activity around here,” he said defensively. “Besides, no one told me my note-taking was creepy.”

“Right,” you said, biting back a smirk. “So you’re a scholarly ghost, huh?”

A light blush appeared on his cheeks. “Look, I don’t get many hobbies! Ghosts don’t have a lot to do except observe.” He crossed his arms, giving you a quick glare before his expression softened again. “Anyway, I’m not the villain here. The creepy noises? That’s just me muttering to myself or something.”

Your arms relaxed a bit, the eerie feeling of the alley giving way to something else entirely. His earnestness was unexpected, and honestly, a little endearing.

“Alright, Greeny,” you relented, softening just a little. “Maybe you’re not as evil as they say.”

He sighed, looking relieved but still a little skeptical himself. “That’s… comforting, I guess.”

You shrugged, shoving your hands in your pockets. “Guess I’ll see you around.” You turned, giving him a small wave as you walked away, his faint figure watching you until you disappeared around the corner.

.....

Three days later, you found yourself back at the alley. You weren’t sure why—maybe it was the way he’d looked at you, or that stupid hopefulness in his voice. This time, you came with something: a small letter in your hand, the ink smudged slightly where you’d clutched it nervously.

You called out, half-expecting him not to show, but he appeared, looking pleasantly surprised.

“Back already?” he teased, a lopsided smile on his face. "

“Don’t get too excited,” you shot back, trying to keep your tone casual. You extended the letter. “It’s… from your mom. I found her, told her I met you… and I convinced her to write something for you. Don't ask why I did it. You looked so miserable here, it made me miserable.”

His mouth dropped open, his expression turning from surprise to something you couldn’t quite name. He took the letter in shaking hands, his gaze fixed on it like it was the most precious thing in the world.

“She… she actually remembered me?” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. He looked up, tears pooling in his eyes. “Thank you… I can’t believe you’d go out of your way for… for me.”

You shrugged, feeling a little awkward under the weight of his gratitude. “Figured you could use a reminder that you’re not just… some alley ghost.”

He laughed a little through his tears, wiping his eyes. “I’m really not an evil ghost,” he said, voice soft and grateful.

“Yeah, well,” you replied, rolling your eyes with a small grin. “You’re still Greeny Ghost to me.”

Izuku blinked, visibly surprised by your small grin, and for a second he just stood there, processing it. Then, with an awkward but excited energy, he smiled back.

“D-do you want to, uh… stick around for a bit? I could, um, show you what I’ve written down,” he stammered, gesturing to a tattered notebook that materialized in his hands.

You chuckled. “Sure. Show me what a scholarly ghost looks like.”

He lit up, practically vibrating with excitement as he began flipping through his notes, talking fast as he pointed out every bit of information he’d gathered. You listened, half amused and half impressed by his careful, detailed observations. Each page was crammed with tiny, meticulous handwriting that covered everything from people he’d seen pass by to strange objects left in the alley over the years.

“I try to keep track of everything,” he explained earnestly. “It’s not like anyone really notices me, so I figured… maybe someday, if someone needed to know anything about this area, I’d have it all written down.”

“Sounds like you take your ghostly duties pretty seriously, huh?” you teased, glancing through his observations. "Well, I try to be a hero in my own way" He replied with a small smile. As you skimmed a particularly eerie note about some “sludge villain” incident that had occurred nearby, a thought hit you.

“Wait, was it… the sludge villain? Was that what got you here?” you asked, looking up to find his expression turn somber, yet resigned.

“Yeah,” he murmured, a shadow passing over his face. “It all happened so fast. I didn’t even see him coming. They said… All Might couldn’t get there in time.” He paused, then shrugged, as if he’d long made peace with it. “Guess it’s just the way it happened.”

You looked at him thoughtfully, and something in you softened. “You know… I think All Might was really sad about what happened to you.”

Izuku’s eyes went wide, almost panicked, like you’d just told him he’d accidentally disappointed a beloved friend. “S-sad? I didn’t want him to feel sad! I mean, All Might is my hero! He’s… he’s… I never wanted to make him feel like that. I was always cheering him on!”

You attempt to put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, which failed as it phases right through. After a second try, you deem the gesture to be futile. “Hey, it’s okay. All Might probably knew that. And who knows? I bet he even came to your funeral.”

Izuku looked up, the panic giving way to a kind of hopeful wonder. “You… you think so?”

“Of course,” you said, grinning a bit. “And hey, maybe that ‘Kacchan’ guy you mentioned showed up too. You’re not as alone as you’d imagine, Greeny.”

He looked at you, eyes brimming with a strange mixture of gratitude and disbelief, as if no one had ever told him something like that before. “Thank you,” he whispered, voice soft and full of warmth. “For saying that. It… it actually means a lot.”

You shrugged it off, feeling a little flustered under his earnest gaze. “Yeah, well, can’t leave a ghost like you feeling down, right?”

Izuku chuckled, the sound light and unexpectedly comforting. “I guess not,” he agreed, eyes still shining with gratitude as he turned back to his notes, flipping to a fresh page. “You mind if I write down that you came back? I think… I think I’d like to remember it.” You nod.

"Yeah, sure you can."

From that moment on, he followed you like a quiet shadow, slipping into conversations, teasing you as much as you teased him, and reminding you of the friend you’d found in the most unexpected of places.

[ferigrieving]

endless rebirth.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ all time ever does is pass / and all i ever do is remember.

a.n. this one goes out to all my best friend situationship survivors

⤷ masterlist ; requests open ; 3.4k

last seen online two minutes ago.

god was not a forgiving man. your grandfather often sat you down when you were little to give you advice. how to spend your money, what books you should read. the best way to cross multiply, and how to find if a watermelon is ripe. he spoke of god, how he put humans through misery so that they may turn to him in their darkest hour. but, you wondered, why would he go out of his way simply to bring suffering?

you’ve known it in every form, thoroughly, intimately, a constant companion that crept closer in the quiet hours of the night. you wore is as if it were a second skin, as natural as the ringing in your ears and the ache in your bones. but it was never the kind of suffering that led you to god. you held no reverence for heaven or forgiveness; you’d never prayed, not in any way that would make a difference. it felt pointless to call out for mercy that only ever seemed to find the pure-hearted, the faithful, the ones who deserved salvation. and if there was a god out there, watching from some celestial height, he must have looked upon you with indifference, untouched by the wreckage of a boy with everything he could want, except the one thing he’d ever asked for.

because even the blessed know loneliness; even those born with everything can feel like they have nothing at all.

you were one of them. you’d had it all—a family who could provide, a home you could call safe, a life laid out like a gilded path in front of you. even as a child, you were the one others looked at with envy, the boy whose future shone bright and certain. even if the family didnt see you as a child, and home was the creak in the night and the chair under the door. even if the life laid out for you didnt have your fingerprints on it, it was still a life, and it was still yours.

but as if that wasn’t enough, as if the gods themselves wanted to ensure your life would be untouched by misfortune, they’d placed him in your life: a boy with hair as white as the first snow, eyes a shade of blue that felt like eternity, so piercing they could reach into you and pull out every hidden truth you thought you’d buried deep.

touya todoroki had been your best friend, your everything. he was the kind of friend that came into your life like a promise, a constant that felt more real than the ground beneath your feet. you’d known him since you were small, back when the world felt endless, and the future was nothing more than an idea far out on the horizon. you’d played together in empty streets, found secret hideouts in crumbling parks, shared late-night secrets that felt too sacred to be spoken aloud. you told him things you’d never told anyone, and he listened with that quiet intensity of his, a fierce kind of loyalty that made you feel invincible. even in the silence between you, you felt understood, held in a way that words couldn’t touch.

and maybe that was your mistake—thinking that kind of bond was unbreakable, thinking he could feel the same way you did.

as you got older, your feelings shifted, grew deeper and darker, a quiet ache that settled in your bones. you couldn’t say when admiration turned to something more, when you started noticing the way his hair caught the sunlight, or the way his eyes seemed to hold a sadness he wouldn’t let anyone else see. you felt drawn to him in a way that defied reason, a kind of yearning that made you feel unworthy, a love so consuming it threatened to swallow you whole. he became the center of your world, the gravity that kept you steady, and for a while, you thought maybe that was enough. maybe you didn’t need anything else but this—just the two of you, a silent understanding, a love you could carry like a secret.

until you realized it wasn’t enough. you couldn’t settle for half-measures, for the pain of living so intimately with a person without ever telling them how you feel. you wanted to shout your love from the rooftops, to grab him and shake him and tell him everything, every little thing you knew he deserved to hear. to kiss him until he couldn't think of anything but the feeling of his lips on yours. to have the planes and dips of his skin memorized like the back of your hand. you wanted him so desperately it hurt.

and it was only when you left that you felt it, that quiet ache like an old wound torn open, raw and bleeding, a feeling that had been waiting patiently beneath the surface. distance brought clarity, peeled back the layers of friendship to reveal something darker, something heavier. you hadn’t wanted to admit it, hadn’t wanted to face the truth of it, but the miles stretched out between you like an open wound, and suddenly, you couldn’t keep it inside. you spent every night replaying his laugh, the way his eyes softened in the moments he let his guard down, the feeling of his hand gripping your shoulder like it was a promise. your first sleepover together, and how he stayed up to watch over you even in a house you both considered safe. and it struck you then, with a force that left you breathless—you loved him, in a way that made your heart feel both full and hollow, like it could shatter at any moment under the weight of it.

you couldn’t bring yourself to say it aloud. maybe you knew, somewhere deep down, that words would only turn him to stone, would only push him further away. so you confessed through the dim light of a screen, fingers trembling as you typed out the words that had been tearing at your chest: touya, i think i love you. i think i’ve always loved you, ever since third grade. im sorry for not telling me sooner. you dont have to answer. it was a hope and a surrender, a feeling you were willing to give up just for a moment of honesty, just to say the words you’d been choking on for years.

but he didn’t respond. silence—heavy, suffocating silence filled the space between you, creeping in like a fog until it was all you could feel. and then, slowly, as the days stretched on, he began to disappear. his messages grew shorter, colder, each one a reminder that you’d crossed an invisible line you could never uncross. you tried to pretend it was nothing, told yourself he just needed time, that he would come back when he was ready. but weeks turned to months, and with each passing day, the emptiness left by his absence settled deeper into your bones.

it was when you came home, after a year of thinking of his face, imagining the teary reunion that would surely happen, that you realized there was no more room in touya todoroki’s heart for you or your love. you begged, pleaded to see him. you went as far as asking his friends, his new friends that he, in the short times you two have ever spoke, would rave on and on about. they don't know who you are, but you know everything about them and then a little bit more.

longing feels like dying, you think, when the one you long for has already buried you.

before you left, you had had a going away party. a memorial for someone who was still alive. everyone and their mother came, but you had never once heard a ‘goodbye.’ it was as if it was simply just another day to everybody else, another tick on the to do list that made up their lives. you held your friends closer than anything in the world, even closer than yourself, but it seemed that you were simply an extra, unnamed background character number fourty two.

it was at your coming home party, that you realized that maybe, just maybe, no one truly ever did miss you. you had given, and given, and given, expecting nothing in return. yet, you still found yourself disappointed, a standard set by no one other than yourself.

coming home was supposed to be a celebration, or at least that’s what everyone had told you. they'd said it a thousand times over text, in passing messages with all the warmth of idle conversation: we miss you, you should come home, it won’t be the same until you’re back. their words had painted pictures in your mind, scenes where your old friends would smile when they saw you, arms open and waiting, voices ready to fill the quiet spaces with laughter and stories. so you’d returned, carrying the weight of those promises like fragile glass, hoping they’d finally feel real when you were back.

but the day of the party, the pavilion was empty, a hollow space filled only with the faint echo of all the words you’d once believed in. the decorations, scattered around like abandoned ideas, only served to highlight the absence—the banner you’d hung with such care, the chairs set out in neat rows, the quiet music playing to no one. you had spent hours upon hours making enough food for everyone, and then a little bit more, but you knew now that it would all go to waste.

you stood there, alone, in a park shelter meant to hold laughter, a celebration that would never happen. each empty table was a testament to how little you truly mattered, to how every promise had been nothing more than a passing thought, the kind of thing people say without a second of real intent.

and maybe you could have excused it, maybe you could have forgiven the empty seats, the quiet that lingered in place of familiar voices, if only he had shown up. you’d asked him, in a text you’d rewritten a dozen times, fingers hovering over each word as if they were spells that could either save or shatter you. you’d asked him to come to your birthday party, your homecoming, and for one wild, fleeting moment, you’d let yourself believe he’d say yes. because this was touya, your best friend, the one person you thought might still care, the one connection that had held you together even when he’d slipped away.

but his response had been cold, a few clipped words that cut deeper than you wanted to admit. he’d said he’d think about it, that he’d ‘try to make it if he could’, and you’d told yourself it was enough. you’d clung to the hope that he’d show up at the last minute, that you’d turn around and see him standing there, hands shoved into his pockets, eyes averted in that familiar way that always said more than his words ever did. but the hours dragged on, the shadows grew longer, and still, he didn’t come. each passing moment twisted something inside you, the raw realization settling deeper with every empty second.

you stared at your phone, watching as the screen stayed blank, no new messages, no sign that anyone had even thought to send a quick, sorry i can’t make it. you scrolled through old conversations, messages from a time when his words had been full of something you could almost call warmth, small memories that once meant everything. he wasnt even the one to send the last message. in a momentof weakness, of pure unadulterated desperation, you had fucking apologized. you had apologized to the boy who had ruined your life without even so lifting a finger. you had apologized to the boy who had thrown away a decade of friendship with no explanation. 

it was strange, really, the way people had been so quick to say they missed you, how they’d filled the distance with hollow words that felt warm at the time, only to leave you standing here, alone. and maybe you were foolish for believing them, for thinking that coming home would mean anything to anyone but you. but it was the kind of foolishness you couldn’t shake, the kind that clung to you like a second skin.

and as the night dragged on, you thought of him, of the nights you’d spent side by side as kids, when silence had been a comfortable thing, something you shared rather than endured. you thought of the promises you’d made to each other, the secrets you’d shared in whispered words and half-smiles. he was your best friend, you reminded yourself, though the words felt empty now, a title that meant nothing to the boy he’d become, to the stranger who had taken you place.

nothing feels quite so empty as the box of friendship bracelets under your bed, and the polaroids littered around your room.

you sat down in one of the empty benches, a strange kind of calm settling over you as you took in the world, as if you were watching someone else’s life unravel before your eyes. the decorations, the banner, the scattered plates and untouched cake—each one a relic of something you’d once held onto, a dream that had been stripped bare by the harsh light of reality. you realized, with a hollow sort of ache, that you were mourning something that had never been real, an idea you’d built up in your mind to fill the spaces touya had left behind.

and maybe this was the last piece, the final understanding that would set you free. you’d come home expecting something that had died long ago, hoping for a welcome that had never truly existed. you’d held onto him, onto the memory of what he’d once been to you, because it was easier than facing the truth—that he’d left you, that he’d moved on, that he no longer cared in the way you’d so desperately wanted him to.

and now, as the silence wrapped around you, you knew there was nothing left to hold onto, nothing but the empty echoes of a friendship that had long since turned to dust.

you sat there as the sun began to sink lower, casting long shadows that swallowed the room, filling it with a quiet, creeping darkness. the decorations hung limply in the dim light, colors fading into gray, and the quiet settled in heavy, pressing against you like a weight you couldn’t shake. time passed, though you couldn’t tell how much; the world outside had started to move on, but you were frozen, caught in a moment that refused to let you go. each second bled into the next, and the silence was deafening, louder than any noise you’d ever known.

then, a vibration—soft, unassuming, but it broke through the stillness like a crack in a wall you’d built too carefully. your phone screen lit up, casting a faint glow in the dim room, and you felt a pang of something close to dread as you looked down. it was a notification, one of those reminders from social media that knew nothing of timing or tact. one year ago today, it read, a cheerful, oblivious message meant to bring back memories you’d rather forget. you stared at the words, heart twisting, but your fingers moved on their own, opening the message, unlocking the flood of images you’d buried.

grief has a strange way of making you revisit the very things that caused it.

you scrolled, slowly at first, as if each image was a jagged shard of glass you were forcing yourself to touch. there he was, smiling in ways he never did anymore, a version of him you’d once thought would last forever. picture after picture of moments that had felt eternal at the time—a laugh caught mid-sentence, his eyes bright and unguarded, his arm slung casually over your shoulders like he belonged there, like he would never let go.

you’d saved them all—every photo, every fragment of time, a relic of a life you could no longer touch. they were tucked away, hidden in a separate folder on your phone, backed up to an old hard drive you kept locked in a drawer, like a secret you couldn’t let go of. you’d even printed some of them out, tucked them into an album you’d once thought you’d look back on with fondness, with the kind of nostalgia that softened the edges of the past. but now, they felt like a mockery, a taunt from a version of you who had been naive enough to believe in forever.

it’s a strange kind of grief, to mourn something that still exists, to miss a person who is still alive. 

photo after photo, and the ache in your chest grew sharper with each one. you saw yourself too, standing beside him, a younger version of you with eyes bright and full of a hope you couldn’t recognize anymore. you were looking at him in most of the photos, a soft smile playing on your lips, an expression that had meant everything, even though you hadn’t known it then. it was the look of someone who’d thought love was enough, who’d believed that the strength of feeling could somehow hold two people together, even as time and distance and life tried to tear them apart.

you swiped, faster now, letting the images blur together, a rush of memories that felt like quicksand, pulling you deeper the more you fought it. there were pictures from the park, the dimly lit streets where you’d spent endless nights talking about nothing and everything. the tree you’d both carved your initials into, as if that would somehow immortalize what you felt. you’d been so young, so certain, holding onto a faith in him that had become the foundation of your world.

but now, it felt like those memories belonged to someone else—a ghost of you who hadn’t known that love could be so easily discarded, so readily forgotten. the boy who’d taken those photos, who’d saved them with such reverence, was gone, replaced by someone who knew better, who understood that sometimes, love wasn’t enough. and the boy beside you, with white hair and that rare, brilliant smile, was gone too, replaced by someone who barely remembered the promises you’d made to each other.

you put your phone down, the screen darkening as the last image faded, leaving you alone again in the empty room, surrounded by the remnants of a life that no longer felt real. everything you’d held onto, every piece of him you’d preserved, felt hollow now, nothing more than echoes in a room that had once been filled with laughter and warmth. you could feel the weight of it all settling into your bones, the kind of ache that would stay with you long after the party was over, long after the decorations were taken down and the memories had faded.

the truth of it all was simple, brutal—no amount of memories could bring him back, no picture could capture what was already lost.

you stayed there, watching the last light of the sun disappear beyond the horizon, leaving you in the dark. you’d come home hoping to find something, some sense of closure, some sign that what you’d shared with him had meant something. but all you’d found was an empty park, a collection of memories that felt more like ashes than embers, and the hollow realization that he was never coming back, that you’d been clinging to a dream that had died long ago.

the world grew colder as night settled in, and you let yourself sink into the silence, letting go of the last remnants of hope you’d carried with you. the phone lay silent beside you, and you knew, with a certainty that felt like peace and despair all at once, that you’d never pick it up to look at those photos again.

you stood up, feeling the weight of it all settle into your bones, a heaviness that was both familiar and strangely liberating. the room was empty, yes, and so was your heart, but maybe that was what you needed—an ending, a final, brutal truth to cut through the illusions you’d been clinging to. and as you turned off the lights, as you left the room and stepped out into the cold night, you felt something inside you finally let go.

all you’d wanted, all you’d needed, was to see him one more time—to feel that connection that had once been your lifeline, to believe that maybe, somehow, he still felt the same.

but touya didnt love you. 

and, if you were honest, you werent sure if you loved yourself, either.

[councillor-roland]

It shouldn't really have been surprising, given what Adrasia was, to hear that he didn't celebrate pain. It was still hard for Roland to fathom, though, perhaps because they were so different. He had often celebrated pain, of those who'd hurt him, of those he disliked or hated and he'd certainly caused his fair share. Adrasia was, apparently, better than that, so much so that he was willing to hold Roland like this and offer him some measure of comfort. It was....admirable even if the idea was foreign to the vampire. Roland sighed, closing his eyes for a moment again at the weight of Adrasia's hand against his neck. "I suppose it wouldn't be." Roland was grateful for it even if he didn't feel he could voice that particular sentiment in any clear way right now and probably didn't really even deserve it.

His question seemed to have caught the angel off guard but Roland had known it was a stupid thing to ask as soon as he said it. Still, he didn't take it back even in the silence that followed, opening his eyes and watching Adrasia when he finally did answer. "I suppose not." He conceded, quietly, even if part of him had wanted a placating lie. It might have helped, just for a little while. That probably wasn't in Adrasia's nature either, though, and he was clearly conflicted enough given the way he was looking at Roland. He seemed to confirm that with his next words and if he'd had the energy Roland might have laughed at how well Adrasia had guessed at what he wanted even while claiming not to know him very well. He didn't really know what to say in response, though, despondent as he was. Roland was quiet for a moment. "All right." What else was there to say? Adrasia wasn't the type to provide comforting lies and perhaps that was better in the long run. There was another brief silence, Roland's fingers playing over the angel's chest again gently, finding some small comfort in the touch, before Adrasia spoke again. While he longed to speak of Rhys he knew without a doubt it would be too much and he didn't think he had the energy to explain it all or even to talk about himself very much. As vulnerable as he'd already been, even he had a limit in this state. "No." It was quiet but pained. "I...can't. Not right now." It was probably time to send Adrasia back to the Undercroft, really, though Roland feared the empty suite and the empty bed. He'd managed to explain it to Gwyn, to talk about it a little, but that had been weeks ago and he hadn't been so far gone. Now he felt like an open wound and couldn't bear the thought of poking deeper into the hurt. Roland swallowed and took a breath. "The offer is appreciated, though." The words were fragile as if they were made of thin glass and could break at a moment's notice. Roland was quiet again for another beat or two, laying his hand flat against Adrasia's chest. "I should probably let you go now." An odd way to phrase it but the words had just come out, sad and reluctant as they were, though he struggled to build up some defenses, to at least retreat to the dull tone he'd had before. He failed as the gratitude unstuck from his throat in a low whisper. "Thank you. For everything."

Adrasia couldn't help but feel he was groping in the dark, feeling blindly for the shape of Roland's grief with what little information he had on what had caused it. A broken heart, to be sure, and a recently broken one. But the words that Roland said seemed to imply a far older hurt -- perhaps one that had compounded into whatever was happening to the vampire now. It would be risky to ask to know more. He may yet have to. "I don't celebrate pain," Adrasia said simply, even as his heart clenched at the truth in Roland's words. It only reminded him of the oddness of the situation, the near-impropriety he felt at holding the master in his arms like this, hand stilling in its petting to lay as a warm weight along the side of Roland's neck. "It doesn't matter who's pain it is. It isn't in my nature." The celestial felt he had been saying that last sentence more and more frequently, half-reminding himself. Adrasia did not deny what Roland said, still.

He didn't answer the councilman's question right away, taken aback in the moment by the acute note of vulnerability in Roland's voice, a falseness to the tone that didn't seem appropriate for the obvious gravity of the answer. "I can't answer that for you," He replied finally, ducking his chin and trying to catch Roland's eyes the best he could. Adrasia's were narrowed, brow pinched, making no effort to conceal his own conflict and uncertainty. Honesty seemed the only path worth taking. "I... know you very little. I know your lover not at all. To speculate would be irresponsible, at best, and I know you would rather I say something far different than that. But I will not do you the disrespect of lying to you." The celestial's gaze slide sideways again, away from Roland's face, knowing it would be more distracting than the dim corners of the room as he tried to gather his thoughts. The longing to understand lingered, but Adrasia couldn't begin to know if it was wise to try or not. So much about this encounter had already gone too far. But Roland's pain would hardly cease to exist if he remained willfully ignorant about the details. "You could say more of either, you or your lover." Adrasia murmured, doubting himself even as he did, "So long as you ask with openness to what I make of it."

[bietrofastimoff23]

Gwaynston soulmates au, where are they… not soulmates. the universe didn't choose them for each other. none of them blindly dissolves into the other, their characters do not fit perfectly, like a folded puzzle, they do not have a special connection in which they understand each other without words, their experiences are different and their worldviews are not identical. but despite a lot of squabbles and misunderstandings at the beginning, they continue to stick together, they make efforts to make it work. This is not like a linear journey where there is a clear exposition-beginning-culmination-end. It is a winding path with many potholes on the road. but the love that fills their hearts, the realization that they are someone's priority, the sense that they are not alone in this world and the desire to share every moment with this person and no one else, makes all the hard work they do worthwhile. because the universe didn't choose them for each other, but they did.

[edwinisms]

i like to think, as a hc or a theory (because it’s definitely possible), that charles has had a few kisses throughout his high school years, sure, but past that he’s undeniably a virgin– well, kind of undeniably, because I think he’d deny it if found out by trying to use technicalities (“I mean that one time there was friction involved–“), but to any reasonable person, and by occult standards (see: edwin being a virgin sacrifice), he’s a virgin.

and i think this because it seems like him to fib about his level of experience (like he did when agreeing he’d sleep with crystal, matching her level of casualness about it) when in the presence of people who do, actually, have experience, in the hopes he doesn’t come off as lame or childish. given what we know about his “friends” when he was alive, they seem like the type to have teased or bullied boys– especially in their own circle– who haven’t gotten laid, or at the very least would’ve thought less of someone for it. and given what we know about charles, i don’t think he’d be nearly as sleazy and inconsiderate as his group when it comes to landing girls with the primary intention of adding to his body count. and considering he’s only supposed to be 16? and has never mentioned any significant relationships pre-death? it just seems unlikely.

all that to say– I can see him maintaining that facade of experience and confidence literally right up until the moment it matters, and in the heat of the moment getting nervous and embarrassed because “uhhh. so I may have been exaggerating some things.” though he’s not totally clueless either, I think it’d take a bit of a soft heart to heart moment for him to be reassured enough that he won’t fuck up and hurt his partner to go any further.

anyway not sure what the relevance of this is, but it’s something.

[unoriginal-starwalker]

ok. ok ok. hold on. this is gorgeous and i need to react to everything.

him being made of silica makes sense, although it's funny to imagine that he's made of styrofoam since that's what his real-life statue was made of on the inside lol

the color-changing chromatophores? so cool! and make a lot of sense with my thoughts of Euclydia and Bill's parents! the angsty possibility that the reason Bill keeps drawing them as only red and blue triangles because he only remembers them as the way they were soon before he 'broke out' of Euclydia - angry and distressed/sad. (i didn't come up with this idea, but idk where i saw it - lmk if you know who did!) it's so funny imagining them like the Boov from the movie Home, involuntarily changing colors based on their emotions - that possibility is ripe with goofy scenarios.

yeah, Euclydian's skin being black makes sense with the Theraprism clothes and stuff, I just think it's funnier if he does wear socks and gloves lol

ALSO YEAH it's killing me that we don't know for sure the texture of Bill's hands!!! In the video "How Not to Draw Grunkle Stan" there's a 3D model of Bill and his hands/arms look kinda fuzzy, but that's far enough removed from canon it probably only counts if you want it to.

oooh coelom! I've just gained knowledge! I love fluid-filled cavities!!

his eyelashes being antennae makes a lot of sense, and the retracting and stuff? very cool. we love making animation inconsistencies into lore - this triangle never has a consistent number of eyelashes lol

DUUUDE. "His lashes get longer and he flutters his eyelid more near Ford, probably because he enjoys his smell." AGSHDFHDSHFDS??? HELLO?????? BILLFORD SHIPPERS EATING GOOD TONIGHT

In the Book of Bill, on the page about destroying/liberating Euclydia, Bill says he hears "this loud buzzing in my ears", so theoretically he does have ears somewhere?

in regards to tasting and having a tongue, as far as I know we've never seen Bill with a tongue in canon, although i do subscribe to the headcanon that he has one

okay yeah the way his limbs and those muscles work makes a lot of sense, both the regular human movement & cartoony wiggly stuff! (also, Ford spotted!) i love the little illustration of him with his limbs retracted in his shell :3

lol i love "fictional geometric shaped people"!

"The guy has a thing for teeth" <- you are so right, he's a freak <3

the way his mouth works makes a lot of sense! it's so cool!!

"I also have no idea whether they have an anus and if it’s just one. This is just something I can’t tell you." <- lmao understandable

oh yeah he does like starch doesn't he? yeah he would not care about it being unhealthy lol, that's so him

oooh yeah breathing between his bricks! dude yeah and the voice echoey thing having an anatomy explanation??? especially knowing that you can recreate Bill's voice effect by copying the audio twice, pitching one higher and one lower! and the 'demon voice' being vocal fry makes a lot of sense too!!

"That's why Bill seems to glow when he speaks - he's actually vibrating." <- COOLEST THING EVER??? COOLEST THING EVER ALERT?????? IDK MAN I JUST THINK THIS IS REALLY COOL!!!!!

finally the us government did something good. giving us info about how bill's blood works

omg the heart diagram is so cool - i don't know nearly enough about cardiology to say how accurate it is but IT IS COOL

i think euclydians being cold-blooded makes sense, i've read a couple fanfics where bill 'photosynthesizes'. i just like characters who are cold-blooded (see: Janus from Sanders Sides) because then you can make them lay on warm rocks in the sun and have a joyous time. i'm normal

i love the complete anatomy chart you made of him!!!! your honor, forget obliterating that twink, i want that triangle dissected!

ok. there were my insane ramblings. i am SO excited for the remaining parts of this!!!! i love it when people apply super scientific knowledge to the silliest things, i am HERE FOR IT!!!!! THANK YOU FOR MAKING THIS MASTERPIECE!

Speculative Biology of Euclydians (and Bill Cipher) part 2

Part 1

So this part is what you've all been waiting for, it took so long, but you'll quickly understand why. This part is:

The Biology of Bill Cipher

As always, this analysis is based on two assumptions:

Before Bill Cipher became a demigod, he was a biological, living organism and so were the rest of his species.

Even after Bill Cipher became a demigod, he still retained some physical characteristics of his biological form.

And a fair content warning: This contains anatomy illustrations. This isn't anything gory, but there are people who are squeamish, so you've been warned.

Click on the images to get better quality!

And without further ado, let's begin.

External structures

Euclydians are animals with a very specific shape. They have a shell in a form of a geometric shape and four limbs. Bill is an equilateral triangle, so my analysis will be just on triangular Euclydeans.

They have bilateral symmetry. This type of symmetry is characterized by having a left and a right side placed like mirror images of each other. Humans and majority of Earth’s animals also have this feature.

Bilaterally symmetrical organisms usually have a distinct head region, because of a process known as cephalization. This process moves the animal’s brain and sensory organs towards one end of the body – the head. Euclydians have a head. It’s the “tip of the pyramid” on Bill and that’s where the eye and other sensory organs and brain are located.

Finally, Euclydeans are segmented. Their segments are clearly visible as those weird brick lines on their body. Bill also often separates his body into three segments. This is a part of his god powers, but it tells us that Euclydeans have three major body segments, I’ll call them the tip, the middle and the base. Each segment contains specific organs.

Euclydeans are invertebrates. And yes, I know this image exists, but this is just Bill’s trolling. He’s making fun of human classrooms where we often find skeleton models. That skeleton wouldn’t even be functional, because it doesn’t have any joints in arms and legs, so it wouldn’t be able to move. And it has a hole where the brain would be, so you know, the fucking brain would fall out.

It was outright stated that Bill has an exoskeleton. Having both external and internal skeleton would be a big waste because you have two systems that do the same thing. Besides, the way Bill's limbs move is much more similar to an invertebrate. His shell is also somewhat bendable which would not be possible if it was made of bone. And the eye-mouth complex that Bill uses to eat would also be completely impossible with a set of vertebrate jaws.

Euclydean shell (or exoskeleton) is nothing like anything here on Earth. It’s most likely made out of silica combined with proteins. I say this because Bill turned to stone when he died and he also likes to eat glass, which is pure silica.

The exoskeleton is made out of several parts. It has a front (ventral) and back (dorsal) part. Both the front and the back part of the exoskeleton are made out of head region (the tip) and three layers of “bricks” which are just segments of the exoskeleton.

The front tip is probably made of more protein and elastic tissue than the back, because Bill has a very expressive “face”. This means that he also has quite complex facial muscles. The back of the head is probably the hardest part of the exoskeleton because it protects the brain. Bricks are in the middle since they have a very important role in speaking and breathing, but also allow the shell to bend.

Can Euclydeans change color, or is it just Bill Cipher using his god powers? Well, since he changes his color on instinct, I think they could! Bill can change color to black, yellow, red and blue. This means that he has a complex system of chromatophores – cells that contain little sacs full of pigment. When the sacs inflate, the body appears to be the color of the largest sac, whilst those deflated are invisible. Color changes depending on the pigments contained in inflated sacs. In Bill, the pigments are red, blue and yellow. Yellow is the standard color, it signifies neutral or content emotional state. He turns red when he's angry or wants to look intimidating and blue might signify fear, despair and cry for help. Black is the color of Euclydean’s skin, so when they look black, it’s because all pigment sacs have deflated and the transparent shell allows us to see the skin underneath.

And yes, Euclydeans have black skin. I know some people say that Bill wears thigh high boots and long gloves, but to me, that doesn’t make any sense. Like, that image of him in Theraprism is showing him with clothes over his supposed gloves and boots. Why would they make him wear sneakers over boots? And why baby Bill has yellow hands? Well, that’s something I’ll tell you in the next part where I’ll talk about babies.

Anyways, the skin is black, but we have no idea what it feels like. Seriously, so many people shook hands with Bill and nobody wrote down how his skin feels like! But we know that he has fingerprints. That means that he has very sensitive fingertips and that those little paws were made for grabbing things. Also, Bill doesn’t have any growths on his skin: no nails, hairs, scales etc. I know a lot of people love to draw Bill with claws, but he doesn’t have claws, not even in his most eldritch form. His fingers always remain small and soft. The legs have no fingers and the skin of the sole of their feet is probably thick.

Internal Structures

Coelom

Coelom is one of the most important organs, that you probably don’t know you even have! It’s a fluid filled cavity whose role is to separate internal organs from the muscles of the body wall. This allows organs to move and grow independently of your muscles and it also protects and cushions them against impact. In humans coelom is complex and it’s made out of pericardial cavity (around the heart – allows heart to pump blood), pleural cavity (around lungs – allows lungs to expand while breathing) and peritoneal cavity (around digestive system – allows for expansion and movement of digestive organs).

I believe that Euclydeans also have some form of a coelom. Coelom is even more important in invertebrates, as that’s where their immune system is and it can also serve as a supportive hydroskeleton. Since Euclydeans have a hard shell, they need the protection around their organs. Every shelled animal on Earth has coelom for that reason. They also need room for the food they eat, since the shell can’t expand and their limbs can enter the shell, so they need room for that too.

2. Nervous system

Euclydeans have a vast range of emotions, capability to communicate using speech, body language and even color shifting. They are as intelligent, or more intelligent than humans. They have a highly developed eye and other senses and all of this requires a nervous system. We saw Bill’s optic nerve when his eye got pulled out during Weirdmageddon, so he does have a nervous system, but I can't tell you how exactly it looks like.

There’s one part of Bill that I bet is similar to human - it’s his brain. Bill claims that he can take control over any being a long as they have neurons. This is his god like power, but then, why just beings with neurons? Well, most likely, because he has neurons too and kind of understands how they work. Maybe his brain even produces similar neurotransmitters as ours, so we’re easy to control with them. The brain is in the tip of the pyramid, slightly above eye and it likely has a lot of neurons and a very complex structure. I can’t tell you how exactly is his brain organized, but since he's bilaterally symmetrical, it’s very likely that it has hemispheres. He likely also has two neural cords, like most invertebrates, and those run down the dorsal (back) side of his body

3. Senses

Euclydeans have camera lens type eyes. Now here I can only speak of Bill, since we haven’t seen any other Euclydian. Bill’s eye is large, placed in the center of his “face”. It has eyelids with “eyelashes” (more on them later) and produces tears (Bill cries after his break up with Ford). The pupil is slit and vertical and there is no iris. However, there are muscles that can change the shape and dilation of the pupil. The eye looks similar enough to human that I can confidently say that he has cornea, lens and sclera. The eye is filled with refractory fluid and has some form of retina in the back. Bill’s eye changing color and being used as a projector or to shoot lasers are all parts of his god powers, however, it is possible that his species has a tapetum lucidum, a reflective layer of cells which help animals see in low light conditions and also makes the eye glow in the dark. Bill has color vision and he claims that he can see every part of the electromagnetic spectrum, but I think that's a part of his god powers. However, Euclydeans definitely could see in color, since their alphabet was basically a color code and they also use colors to express emotion.

Since Bill has fingerprints, we can confidently say that his fingers are the most sensitive part of his skin. Bill can feel through his shell too, just like every shelled organism ever (that's why he used Ford as a backscratcher). Tactile senses are very primitive, so Eucliydeans could feel cold, heat, pain, pressure, vibration and everything else just like we do.

Bill has a sense of smell and he even says which scents he finds attractive. This could mean that sense of smell plays a big role in reproduction of Euclydeans, but where is it located? Well, on the eyelashes. Except, those are not eyelashes, they are antennae. Bill has total eight of these antennae, 4 on lower and 4 on upper eyelid. They are very soft and sensitive, so he can retract them inside the eyelid. He does that when he feels threatened, so it’s probably a fight or flight response. His lashes get longer and he flutters his eyelid more near Ford, probably because he enjoys his smell. They are also located close to the mouth, so that’s how he samples the scents of the food.

Euclydeans have great hearing. They communicate vocally, sing, Bill can play the piano, so obviously, they hear. But I have no idea what they use to hear. It could be the bow tie, since it does look vaguely ear shaped, but it's possible that the bow tie isn't actually an organ. In that case, they could have an unknown structure inside them or they could just use their thin exoskeleton to catch sound vibrations.

They taste using their long tongue.

4. Muscles and movement

We have seen Bill’s muscles and they are striated skeletal muscles like mammals and insects have.

As the shell is kind of bendy, there is a lot of muscles underneath it. Those are the muscles of the body, they also move the face and bricks while speaking. The limbs have muscles too and two kinds at that.

When Ford shoots through Bill’s hat (which also a part of him) it is shown that inside of it are strange bone-like structures. These are not bones, since they aren’t articulated, but muscles do connect to them. They kind of remind me of echinoderm ossicles, but they don’t really look like them. This is another fully alien structure and I’ll call them anchors.

You know how Bill’s limbs can both bend just like human arms and legs, like he has elbows, wrists, knees and ankles, but they also bend like goofy rubber-hose cartoon anatomy? Well, that’s because there are two types of muscles in them. There are muscles attached to the anchor points and subcutaneous muscles.

Anchor points are located in the same places as joints in humans. Muscles that attach to them are long and strong and they are used for regulated, precise movement. The subcutaneous muscles (the one we see in his Weirdmageddon image) are used to bend the limbs in every other manner. They are not attached to anchors, but to the skin, so they resemble muscles of octopus arms. They are shorter and less strong, but when they act together they move the limbs in coils. These muscles are also responsible for squishing the limbs inside the shell when they are hidden.

Bill has incredible control and dexterity of his muscles, especially in arms and fingers. Even though his paws are soft and small, he can use them pretty much as efficiently as humans use their hands.

Possibly the strongest muscles in Bill's body are his jaw muscles, so let's talk about those jaws.

5. Eye-mouth complex and the digestive system

Having your eye used for feeding seems wild to us, but this adaptation is seemingly common in fictional geometric shaped people, as it has convergently evolved in Flatland’s inhabitants as well. And, speak what you like, but Euclydeans can’t choke on their food, so they have it better than humans.

I don’t know what Flatlanders eat, but Euclydeans are definitely predators. Now, I know that Bill sometimes depicts himself with human like teeth. The guy has a thing for teeth, especially molars, but he doesn’t have mammalian teeth. In every image where he opens his mouth that was not made by him, we see that he has cone shaped sharp teeth, like a predator. These teeth are great for biting and subduing prey, but they suck at chewing. Euclydeans can’t chew, so they they feed by swallowing chunks that they bite off, or swallowing their food whole if it’s small enough.

Here I depicted how this “eye-mouth complex” functions:

Euclydeans have a stomach in the middle of their body, but I have no idea what goes after it. My best guess is that they have a branching intestine. Our flattest organisms (flatworms, sea stars and brittle stars) all have this type of intestine. It basically means that, instead of just going like a tube, the intestine branches into different parts of the body. I also have no idea whether they have an anus and if it’s just one. This is just something I can’t tell you.

Since Euclydeans are capable of eating a lot of various things, I expect that they have accessory digestive glands (that’s liver and pancreas in humans). Strangely, despite the fact that his anatomy indicates a predator, Bill likes eating starch (pasta, empanadas, sandwiches etc). Most carnivores are unable to digest starch, so I went with god powers, but he ate sandwiches when he was a kid and had no god powers. So, we have two options. Either Euclydeans are omnivores (which, with those teeth, I doubt) or the animals on their planet store their excess calories as starch, not fat, so predators evolved the ability to digest it. If the second one is true, then Bill eating pasta is like your cat eating pure butter. It’s probably not healthy for him, but I don’t think he’s a guy who would give a single crap about that.

6. Breathing and speaking

In The Book of Bill, Bill says that “dumb trapezoids and rhombuses were sucking up his rightful oxygen”. This means that Euclydeans are aerobic organisms – they breathe oxygen. Their skin is dry, so they don't use it for breathing and they also speak, laugh and sing. All of this tells me that they have lungs.

I believe that their lungs are located near the base where the bricks are. The gaps between bricks have little tracheae that lead to the lungs. Bill most likely breathes in from his back side and breathes out from the front. The air is probably forced to travel through small crevices inside the lungs so that it can exchange the oxygen with blood. We don’t know whether Euclydeans exhale carbon dioxide, but they probably do, since they can eat our food, so they probably have similar metabolism to us Earthlings.

Since Euclydeans can speak and laugh, they probably have some kind of a diaphragm. In fact, I think they have two! Their voice has an echo, which means that, most likely, their lungs don’t always expel air at the same time. Air expelling causes the bricks to vibrate which produces sound. That’s why Bill seems to glow when he speaks – he’s actually vibrating. This action is also controlled by muscles. Depending on which row of bricks is vibrating and how many of them are involved, Bill changes the pitch and tone of his voice.

And the growling noise? Well, when Bill uses his demonic voice, he is doing one of two things. He is either using his god like powers to modify his voice, or that’s just how Euclydian vocal fry sounds. If you don’t know what vocal fry is, it’s produced when the vocal chords are vibrating slowly and they become out of sync. This produces a very specific sound and that sound can be made voluntarily. That’s how Mongolian throat singing works. Similarly, Euclydeans could slow down the rate at which their bricks vibrate and make them out of sync to produce that menacing “demon voice” as a threat display.

7. Circulatory system

We know how Euclydean blood looks like. It’s silvery and kind of seems like it glitches. It also contain chemicals that can make humans sick. This means that Euclydeans have much different blood from animals on Earth, but it certainly serves the same function. It’s used to transport nutrients and oxygen through their body.

Since the agents from The Book of Bill were able to draw his blood, it’s clear that Bill has a circulatory system and a closed one at that. The closed circulatory system means that blood vessels end in capillary nets and don’t open inside the body cavity like they do in molluscs and insects. If the agents used syringe to pull Bill’s blood and he had an open circulatory system, they could actually collapse the entire thing as they would pull his organs as well. That’s why I believe that he has a closed circulatory system.

Closed circulatory system requires a heart and I believe that Bill’s heart is located between his lungs, like ours. I have no proof that his heart looked anything like in the illustration, but I looove cardiology, so I did all this just because I wanted to draw a weird heart. I don’t think Euclydeans have a super complex four chambered heart like we do, they most likely have two or three chambered heart. The heart separates lung and body circulation and regulates their blood pressure.

The capillary nets are all located in important places: lungs where they exchange oxygen, intestines where they absorb nutrients and brain where they feed the neurons. Euclydeans have a rather large brain, so it probably uses most of their calories and oxygen.

8. Other systems

I can’t tell you anything abut Euclydean excretory system. I don’t know whether they produce urine or not, if they have kidneys, nephrocytes or something completely different. I genuinely have no idea.

They have to have an immune system because they are multicellular. Every single multicellular organism including sponges and plants has some form of an immune system. I believe Euclydeans have something similar to coelomocytes - a very common type of immune cells in invertebrates which reside in coelomatic cavity.

I'll talk about reproductive system in Part 3!

Are Euclydeans warm or cold-blooded?

This was a very tough one, because they could be both, but I am leaning more towards cold-blooded. They have very little muscle mass and heat is produced within the muscles via trembling or metabolic heat (heat released in various chemical reactions in the body). When an animal has very little muscle it isn’t used for that. Even mammals like sloths who have significantly reduced muscle mass become dependent on the surrounding temperature. Also, Euclydean flat shape can easily distribute heat they absorb, so they wouldn’t need to waste energy making their own. On top of that, Euclydeans don’t wear clothes, which can be a cultural thing, sure, but they could also not wear clothes because they need their skin exposed so that it could absorb heat.

Here's how Bill Cipher's complete inner anatomy looks like:

There, I hope you enjoyed this! I'll see you hopefully next week to tell you about Euclydean reproduction and development.

Thank you @ok1237 @unoriginal-starwalker and @chrystalitar for your support :D

(Also, I hid Ford Pines in one of the anatomy illustrations. Can you find him? Click on the images for better quality!)

[roboyomo]

hey. pspsps. for whenever u need it. hands u a Talk About Yuor Beasts ticket for azrael and kenix. disappears into my shrub again. woe

HELLOOOO HAI. I FINALLY WROTE THIS HOLY SHIT. just to prepare you people, this thing is going to get LONG. EXTRA LONG COMPARED TO MY USUAL OC RANTPOSTS. 57 paragraphs and about ~7000 words. Yeag ^_^ read at your own risk and if you have a Lot Of Free Time Alrightsies? And also if you want to hear about fucked up and doomed little queer guys! I had tried to cover everything about azranix in here so let's goooo !!!

okay so first of all i will Definitely be reusing some of the old info i have already said about them before because Yeag ^_^ it is definitely needed for context for all the other people that have been following my blog and never read my previous rant posts. And those who just Never Saw Said Oc Posts dhehdsh just so this all would make some sense

and God. i've had kenix and azrael for abouttttt 2+ years by now i think ? ? and their story have changed a lot but GOD they still have such a grip on my soul.,,, cannot think about them without being Plagued very intensely and extremely and severely. they were this one Thing but then their dynamic and relationship evolved and so did they as people and it makes me So Sick of them soemtimes i swearrrr.. . .

so to start off! yeah the already known thing is that they're part of the seven deadly sins order of characters but to make it easier i'll just call them either sins crew or seven sinners. For my own Convenience. The concept of the sins crew is that they are mirroring the main original timeline cast. While the main cast is blessed by the divine in the name of keeping peace of their perspective duties. the sins crew Unfortunately did not get such treatment. To be part of the sins crew is to be abandoned by the gods above Basically. which is exactly their fate! they have curses and not blessings and. to make it short that's just how they have been punished for even having desires! Quite Unfair,, , ,

each of them have their own perspective sins and here, azrael and kenix have envy and lust as their assigned sins respectively. each of their actions that lead to this point are represented by said sins ofcourse but in their own ways (so No not That kind of lust for kenix i know please do not) i think i have explained all the needed context before i get to both of them on their own and then together ^_^ firstly i'll explain azrael because Yeag.

azrael is kind of. Complicated to say the least. a living weapon of some sorts! grown up in a hostile environment where the sole goal was To Win. there was little importance in personal happiness because it was all either to kill or to be killed. and he just grew tired of it yk? his hands only knew the warmth of blood and not the warmth of an another person. A dull and terrified view on life. He could only yearn to know how it is like to live normally without having to worry about being someone's next target.

and then there was someome who knew such happiness. a nameless girl, so full of life. just like him, she had no name from birth. Only a serial number. But yet. She was someone that had no worries like he did. Someone who Had So Much. stood right next to azrael. It felt unreal. Like a dream! A false scenario because surely! Surely that kind of bliss wasn't possible in his world! and yet. Yet. someone knew that feeling that he wished to knew the warmth of himself. Was right in front of his eyes. But he also was envious of her to some degree deep down. envious that she had what he yearned for his entire life while working with these bunch of assassin-esque people. but also!

it is very very safe to say that she meant Everything to him. Like how could she not? her attitude changed his worldview on such a fundamental level that azrael was. Fully convinced that he wouldn't be able to exist without the bright colors she intergrated into his life. spending all of his time with her. her happiness and optimisim was everything he needed. It (the whole relationship) wasn't even exactly anything to Her. like both of them very much saw each other as friends! but azrael meant something different by friends Me Thinks,, , , more like a person that he committed himself to.

"oh you are my friend and i am yours? okay then you have my devotion now. We are Friends and More Than Friends at the same time now :)" like they had something Very Intense and at the same time so one-sided. which is Unfortunate for azrael because! Wow my dude you trusted someone So Much you have let your guard down! Bad Choice my guy! because now it wasn't azrael who was the target. It was her. the nameless has been seen with him so many times that she was in danger because of him. and since he has let his guard down it led to. You know. Her death eventually happening.

the loss of the nameless girl not only broke azrael but changed his worldview once again. Because now he wasn't just apathetic to the entire world around him like he used to be before she appeared in his life, but he despised everything about the world. he was so jealous because now seemingly everyone had everything he had ever wanted! that source of happiness! something he had just mere moments ago! the warmth of blood on his hands coming back to haunt him!

It felt nauseating to see others have that joy. and in a series of overthinking it all, he came to the conclusion that. The others surrounding him have decided to keep happiness a secret from azrael. they were all on it. They knew what they were doing when she died. it is like they have purposefully taken the girl whom meant the world to azrael away from him! but of course how could he not see the truth that was displayed in front of his him this whole time!

coming to that conclusion utterly broke everything azrael knew and built it all anew. His envy was ever so clear to see. he knew that the people surrounding him wanted him to keep being envious of their joy. And so he just decided to ruin it all for them! after all. how come they get to have such happy moments while he has to be left behind in the dark, destroying his youth away for this constant cycle of death to keep going in circles on and on? it felt so utterly unfair to him. There was no use to continue doing what he always did when there wasn't a reason to keep doing it from the start besides living. and how could he live now without the person he treasured by his side?

in the end, his envy of others spiraled into a huge breakdown and caused him to go on a rampage. there were no exact names as his targets, only what his heart and shattered mind told him was the target. and that whole ordeal lead to quite a lot of deaths. ranging from people who at least were azrael's enemies from the past to some degree to innocent bystanders of the world who didn't know that azrael even existed

he found weird comfort in their deaths. Like "wow. i have finally gave in and destroyed what only worsened my misery and envy.. .," he kind of just, , did not feel sorry at all for the murders. even relishing in them in a ?. ? Way. but it all came back to stab him in the back. And Quite Literally too! that is what lead to his death and now his current state. being cursed and with the sin of envy being forever carved into him as a person, his jealously turned into pure venom. like Actually. he has venom running through his body, created from the purest desire for happiness. A man now destined to roam afterlife, forever seen as the pure embodiment of Consequences

so spiteful. so hateful at his very core. although he may be hiding it, but the Venom is present and is very obvious when you look closer into it! his only way to deal with this is to be distant from people. there is no reason to be conversing with the beings that once saw him as such a lowly being. azrael's way of thinking this through is just. Very confusing to say the least. he acted upon his desires but tries to rationalize them at the same time. trying to show that he doesn't care. No he doesn't care. . at least he is convinced so but Truly it is just ?.?? it is clampicated to describe for him. Or something

and now about kenix. Oh god This Dude Man. kenix is Incredibly Fuckjng Complicated as a person man. To start off, i will refer to him as his real name (Yi Dal) sometimes alright? kenix is Very Much a very deeply troubled guy that just represses such feelings. ever since he was born, he was in the dark. Metaphorically and kind of Literally?. since he was a child, he had the whole thing between him and his parents and just His family in general. which was Just Good Fucking Lord how much Inferior he felt to them. he was mostly, if not all the time, reduced to a "servant" for the family. which really contributed to him trying to seek value in himself through being useful to his family

obeying all the orders from his family? No questions asked, although it may hurt, he will at least get some attention. No matter positive or negative. he really just. didn't have a say in anything. for both of the parties, it is all just listening to what he is told to do. And his parents and siblings made that decision consciously. there was never any reason for him being neglected. not that kenix even knows of one! but it was like he was destined to be unacknowledged by them.

kenix was scared to take up space, because what if they find something to be angry about? Something to scold him for? Something to hit him for once again? he may be seeking attention but not in the form of being yelled at or having objects thrown at him. such treatment is still terrifying to him to this very day, a haunting memory at best. He genuinely felt like a little tiny being not deserving of attention with how obvious it was that his siblings were favored far more than him.his parents' treatment towards him made him think that he doesn't have the right to exist in this place without value or a purpose.

the neglect coming from his parents, the humiliation from his siblings. the embarrassment of being treated like a stranger whenever the family was in public. all of those factors reinforcing the idea that kenix is nothing of importance or relevance into his consciousness. kenix really just wanted to be free damnit.he yearned for it, he prayed for such salvation to come save him on a random day of his life but there was. No response as expected. he had never properly felt the warmth of the sun and freedom, only the cold air in his room at night. feels kind of suffocating in here, doesn't it? such a sheltered view on the world. It really is No wonder that kenix wished to escape this place. lacking social interaction and awareness of the outside world, , A shame, really

yi dal had been planning his escape from this god forsaken household for so So long, and he has finally been able to execute it when he was still a teen, about 17 years of age. An opportunity so perfect it truly felt unreal to him. An opportunity to finally feel the fresh air for himself forever and ever? you mean it you mean it you really mean it ?? <- deep down he was so Hopeful man. Man. the first time he was outside in nature by himself?? oh yeag. Yeag that felt like heaven that he himself couldn't believe in. feeling the grass beneath him, the light wind in his face, the chirping of the birds sitting on the trees. what else could he have possibly been missing out on? neither kenix or i know how he has survived about 16 years alone as a 17 years old guy with no social skills or concept of how the world really worked. he did make a fool out of himself but. He got the hang of it! Kind of! Normal social life was hard to get used to but!! ^_^

it truly was impossible for him to predict that at the age of 33, he would be found by his siblings and eventually tracked down, oblivious to what was planned for him. poor poor yi dal. only barely made to his early 30s and yet There It Is. Him laying on the floor, completely devoid of his ability to move his body. a small puddle of blood. Was it his blood? Was the blood of his brother he had manage to stab before being paralyzed? no reason to ponder that now, for he could only watch what was about to happen to him and. That was The Most amount of fear he had ever ever felt in his life. nothing could come close to how he felt when he saw his sister holding something in her hands, his brother following behind her. there were so so many things they could do. and it scared him on such a deep level that he didn't even know existed.

there he is now, a dead man walking and roaming the afterlife. the difference between him and azrael is that kenix acted upon his deepest desire only after he had been killed. the desire to avenge himself. to feel what it was like for his family. to be one of the higher-ups. To finally feel Superior. lusting for power in a way that breaks his morals (hence why this guy is assigned lust as his sin). a desire so strong it basically just Breaks Him Completely. In a way that leaves him so vulnerable that just. Makes him so easy to take advantage of. Disturbingly Too Easy. And that is exactly what fucking happens!!

"prometheus", or well, ephai is at fault here for that. no longer having a physical form, they saw a vessel so perfect in what was left of kenix. A soul that has been shattered into pieces since the start. Kind of. He needed just a little bit of a kick to fall over the edge and never come back to what he was. And they have seen it as an opportunity to prove the existence salvation to kenix. You Know. The guy that even fully gave up on religion and "salvation". And it worked of course it worked on kenix that Little Hopeless Thing— yeag. I could go on and on about kenix and prometheus but this is about azrael and kenix not these two's toxic relationship

prometheus is the key to kenix achieving his goals and in a moment of desperation. When he was offered a chance to avenge himself. To strike back at the people who degraded him the most. To feel in power. He didn't even hesitate to agree to the offer which lead to a little "contract" of some sort happening between them and that's just how kenix has been cursed. kind of like being oblivious to the fact that the salvation he was promised was a punishment in disguise. but it's not like he cares now.. . he has stolen fragments of powers from all kinds of divine beings, all for the sake of fulfilling his own wishes. trading his sanity for power. to the point of almost worshipping the one who has given him this opportunity and making ephai to be a divine entity

kenix himself though, is now more than just a god-like being. he is the flow of time himself. But Uh Oh! Bad News Motherfucker! You are Not Alone in this! because to keep existing like this, he had to take the body of an alternate timeline version of himself. Which just so happened to be the Yi Dal from the main cast's timeline. Who was already part of the main cast. And so essentially while taking over Ken's body, he had to replace him altogether unless they switch hosts. which kenix forbid to do because Good God he doesn't want ken to have anything Really. reasons that i'll get to later because Yeag ^_^ another problem is that prometheus is Also There with them. a third wheel or something so no you got 3 whole separate people in a singular body

so now kenix got himself stuck in a situation where he has to keep up a kind of play. Not pretending to be the version of himself he has replaced per se, but to always appear calm, continue to be soft-spoken and amicable with a formal attitude. because such etiquette and manners are what have enforced into his subconsciousness by his family while he was still living in that household. The manners that have been engraved into his mind by his own will. The facade of not caring about his surroundings. He destroyed his chances to live normally for the sake of his desire. so now kenix just has to pretend that everything is fine when really. Really. he never felt like a person, let alone an indepedent one. it is always him being the shadow of someone else and not seen as someone of his own. previously being the shadow of his siblings and now to be the shadow of ken because. Kenix is not perceived as his own self. Not that he has an identity really! But we will Also get to that later ^>^

now to finally talk about azranix together. their relationship had a pretty Rough start i'd say. Like it wasn't bad! But with azrael's decision to purposefully distance himself from others.., it was Hard for kenix to get closer to him without exactly going against his boundaries. Yes, he did pay attention to when he was getting far too close for azrael's comfort. for what reason did kenix even try to get closer to azrael? Well You See ^_^ he just wants to playfully mess with someone! No other reason! Just innocent little teasing that's all! but both of them have started to note. A lot of things about each other. with azrael's distrust, he was very wary of everything single move coming from kenix. And kenix well just. Tried to notice all the details there are about the person he pursued to know. pure curiosity if you could say that. to azrael there was always Something that was off about kenix and to kenix there was always Something about azrael that peaked his interest.

at the start with how used azrael was with seeing people as some sort of assholes trying to ridicule him, he looked at kenix with a bit of disdain. What if he was also one of such people? Why would he try to seek azrael out of all people? There is that sense of cautiousness that haunted him and his actions. and kenix ultimately decided to become a non-threat in azrael's eyes. otherwise how could he get such an interesting and peculiar person to trust him? to lose on such a great opportunity? no! he had to do it. He Had To. (no no it's not for any particular reason you see, it is just. .)

with every single encounter they have had, azrael just kind of like. Questioned everything about this guy! What Is His Problem! Why Is He Trying To Pry On Me! and so on. and with enough amount of times of them meeting each other in various places, azrael just went "fuck it, i'll try to get the answers to my questions straight from him" and such thinking led him to the Confrontation part. with his frustration present, he really just could not wrap his head around the fact that someone wants to know more about Him. that someone would even find Him interesting. he is trying so hard to avoid such relationships for the sake of himself and. Others to some degree. That an idea that someone once again would want to be a companion to him is just a Bizarre Concept. and kenix answered his questions, albeit not exactly. only a smile and "Wouldn't you want a friend yourself, in this place?"

which is exactly what was needed to crack azrael's front, even just a tiny bit. perhaps kenix was right. this place was Lonely. So Incredibly Lonely. maybe even reminiscent of azrael's past. and that made him realize just how much worse the situation was. to finally be aware of he had to stay here like this for hundreds of years, if not thousands. If not for all eternity. Destined to slowly disappear into thin air. with a few other people who are just like you by your side. a reminder that everything that could've saved you has Abandoned You. Even the divine above have abandoned you. A reminder that there is no one. And nothing. that is coming to save them. He is Alone. And Will Be Alone. his decision to distance from his only source of human interaction has always been a self-fulfilling prophecy of him swallowing his own venom. denying himself everything out of envy and hatred that is wallowing inside him. like a serpent on his shoulder. azrael is just a self-fulfilling prophecy of self-destructive at times that it is like Hey Dude. Please Don't Continue To Do That.

realizing just how fucked up everything in this situation is possibly may have made him just a tinyyy bit Desperate. more willing to finally open up to others a little. more accepting of letting people into his life. It is so fascinating that a single question from kenix is what managed to change his mind. azrael letting his guard down after so long! truly a miracle that we Cannot tell the aftermath of. and thus azrael has started to seek kenix out on purpose while still noting more things about him. Trying to figure him out like what kenix has been doing this whole time, you know? if kenix gets to pry on his life, then azrael might as well just do the same

it was a slow, slow way of actually getting to know each other at a deeper level because kenix. Like always. has tried to keep his past and his general life a secret. A mystery of some sorts. he wasn't really an enigma, azrael just. Never could figure out things about his family, his past life and what else has brought him here like the rest of the sinners. there were always moments about his story that he always left out on purpose. he never went into detailing anything he explained about himself. giving azrael only (mostly) surface level bits of information about himself. and azrael well, did much the same because he still felt that kenix shouldn't be trusted fully.

despite all that, azrael and kenix did manage to start bonding more! they both learned more about each other's story and felt. Sympathy for each other's struggles. as well as bonding over facing the same Horrors™ each day and they just had to learn to get through it together. To survive the troubles with each other by their side. learning more about each other through such dangerous encounters with the unknown things unable to be communicated with. having to find comfort in each other's presence if you understand what i'm trying to convey here. which then evolves into far more intimate moments being shared between them both where one helps the other with his problems and their opinions of each other turning into "ohh so we are one of the same to some degree. then i'll trust you more because i have seen you struggle with the same problems i have in the same way i do"

with the circumstances they were in, they got attached to each other's company Pretty Easily. considering how both of them severely lacked such companionship in their lives. it was a change of pace for the both of them For Sure. after years and years of being together, the trust they built in their relationship was Incomparable to anything else to be honest. they knew each other so so So long that it is now like both of them wouldn't be able to get anywhere without each other. they both had their own reasons for pursuing each other in this sense in specific but for kenix. it always was a desperate attempt for find someone to be there for him covered up as curiousity. kenix has always and Always followed orders his entire life, at first from his family now to listening to whatever prometheus whispers in his mind. his decisions always had this underlying tone of not being by free will. he does what he is told to do.

But trusting azrael and trying his best to be a trustworthy person in his eyes is the first decision that kenix has done by himself. It was his own free will which wanted to befriend azrael in specific. clinging onto him, knowing that azrael could be the one person to understand his troubles. kenix is very much aware of his fate being abruptly ended at some point and he knows that it will come soon. It is only a matter of time. following the orders of prometheus is the only way he can buy himself time to survive. Because he Needs to.

He must persist and keep living. he grasped at the concept of him being allowed to live only if he brings value to others for this long that. he just couldn't bear the thought of becoming Nothing if he wasn't anything of such value. seeking attention and validation through all means possible. all of his terrific actions had no reason other than desperation for recognition behind them. A villain who seemed to be enjoying all of this has only done this for the sake of surviving an another day.

Yet. every time kenix wanted to actually open up to azrael, it turns into a blockage in his throat. Unable to speak up, becoming a voiceless being of some sorts., , the reason being the fear of rejection in his soul. Kenix had to grasp at anything that would've given him a purpose. being prometheus's vessel was exactly done out of that desperation he wasn't even aware of. without the facade, kenix is No One. there is No One behind his carefully curated formal facade. Nothing but an incoherent mess. kenix lacks an identity. But the lack of it, then, is his identity: nothingness, absolute null. All of his emotions and feelings have always been repressed and they continue to be repressed even now. So no matter how hard he tries to differentiate himself from others, he'll end up being someone unintentionally because there is No Originality in him. And that is exactly how there is nothing about his real "self" that he thinks people would want to stay for.

with how much kenix has been repressing his emotions, discarding them and thinking of them as "fake" because he thinks that anything he felt emotionally is a lie. Because he built his whole self on a lie. A lie that he wanted this. he has now managed to lie to himself. thinking that the affection and love he holds for azrael is not real. That their bond is not real. That if he tried to show what he has been hiding behind his front for years, he would drive azrael away from him. When their relationship very much is real! kenix has no idea how to tell what was true and what was fake in him apart, so he just decided to think that everything he feels is a lie

yet. The repressed feelings, the suppressed emotions. They're all still there. Forming an incoherent mess inside of his mind and body. but even then without that mass of emotions, there is nothing else about kenix that is distinct. pure nothingness. and it Truly Scares him to even think of a scenario where azrael finds out what hollow husk of a man kenix is beneath his facade. The fear that azrael would be disgusted. That he would see him as a lowly creature. so kenix can never be truly honest about himself with azrael out of fear that the only person who understood him will leave. he tries to be so careful when talking to azrael lest he would let something about him slip. he can't just lose someone him, no.

but azrael is patient with him, he always has been. he shall wait all the needed time until kenix finally gathers the courage. he may not know what kenix has been meaning to tell him this entire time, but he can see his attempts ever so clearly. kenix is trying his best and azrael wants to make sure that kenix knows that it's alright. azrael may not be an overly kind and positive person but. If it means that someone who needs to be reassured will hear it. Well then. . . yet kenix could never be able to wrap his head around how that could be true. because of how much he was used to the lie he convinced himself with. he has told himself the same thing over and over again so many times that finally being told the opposite truth is just Shocking to him. the fact that someone doesn't want him for his value but for who he is a person

to bring back a previous point, kenix's problem with ken too, is just how much ken makes kenix realize that he is the extra one of the two. Ken had a normal life, he had a normal family, he had everything, ken had it all !. and kenix had nothing to himself. All of it - stolen. it is not even his own physical body, but the body of the original. he is perceived as someone else, he is not distinct from that someone at all in the eyes of others. despite all of his attempts to show himself as an independent person, he will forever be considered. A shadow of someone else. a shadow of the original and it pains him. and now azrael and the other sinners are the only people to ever treat kenix like a person. not like he is somebody else. But his own self. And he couldn't be more grateful that they do. That Azrael Does.

yet he can't be honest. No. No that would destroy everything he has built. everything he has worked for. but the desire. The wish to stay true to the only person he ever would consider being honest with. it has only grown stronger. The reason why he hasn't managed to tell azrael anything is solely because kenix simply felt like it wasn't the time. it will never be the time. so his one and only option was to finally tell azrael his real name. Yi Dal. although it doesn't seem like much, azrael understood the importance of this to kenix. from connecting the pieces of kenix's past story from everything he has ever told him, he could figure out that kenix only has bad associations with his real name regarding his past.

maybe. Just maybe. he could change his view on his real name, the same way kenix changed his view on his surroundings. To become the positive association that is worth remembering whenever kenix is referred by his real name. To be that something to look back at fondly.

And then the Creature™ phases come around with each of them turning into some sorts of fucken beasts ^_^. the cursed forms that in all shapes and forms represent their desires and their inner selves. for each sinner and other curse bearers, these forms are different. but for azrael and kenix.

azrael's form is completely unable to speak in full sentences. it barely speaks Actually. seeming to be straight-forward but it only just shows how azrael was not able to speak out what he thought. he was all action and no talk. which is exactly how his rampage started. he only came to conclusions from so much overthinking and hasn't tried to communicate with anyone. he just thought ot everyone as a traitor and shallow people. it really highlighted just how much he trusted his jealousy and envy rather than confirming things for himself

yet the creature seemed. More over fine with kenix's presence. Like he wasn't just a little friendly being to him! he still lashed out and acted irrationally because this form reflected on azrael's loses and overthinking that jumps straight into conclusions! but he still acted less aggressive with kenix. he didn't need to overthink his actions because of the trust he has in kenix. a bond that was stronger than the envy whispering all sorts of things into his ears. He Knows that he doesn't have to doubt him. yet he is Stuck in this box. a labyrinth of constant hesitation to Trust not only others but himself too. he wishes to free himself from such shackles but it is hard. it has always been hard to let go and change his mindset when it always was his only defense mechanism from being hurt. all of these struggles shaping themselves as a scorpion, a serpent, a venomous creature. something that symbolizes hidden danger. and yet, kenix has found beauty and something to love in such a devasting depiction of his partner. the purest way to show what he truly felt. how much he just hid this somewhere inside of himself. something that he couldn't help but feel pity for

and kenix shall do anything to prove that even then. it's going to be okay. he knows it's okay. azrael has always told him it is alright to feel like this, so surely he meant it for everyone? all struggles will pass eventually and you'll become stronger than ever, that's what azrael has told him a long time ago. even if kenix doesn't see a future for himself, he wants to make that promising future for his only love. To help him become resilient Together. He knows that azrael can do it, he had been through so much. he know he could get through this as well and break free from the curse.

and as for kenix's cursed form and the overrall story it is. So much more .? ?. his cursed form is much more bizarre compared to others. a constant variation of geometrical shapes and other possible physical forms, emiting a some sort of glow. He has lost all of his human characteristics. The true form of his self. the mass of emotions and feelings that have been repressed for decades, even centuries, has finally spilled over. creating a mess out of himself. A fool now no longer bound to a facade but is now letting all of that anguish out. so much madness, frustration and sorrow suppressed in him that is now out in the open for everyone to see. a being no longer able to communicate, for he has turned into something that is only capable of Wails. Sobs out loud. Muffled screams of agony. so many emotions he had yet to properly address yet that it is all coming in as an overwhelming wave of terror. he can no longer hide himself beside a neatly made front

a seemingly unapologetic "villain" reduced to a sorrowful creature. a being so clearly desperate for freedom. to know who he is. to finally be free from these principles chaining him to a life of silence until his death. he feels that his demise is coming soon. and he can't do anything about it. for now he can only be a hostile monster. a vessel, a prophet for prometheus's salvation. because this was planned to be his end a long long time ago. this was his purpose. his only value. once this is done, he will be gone for too. finishing his duty, being allowed rest. despite how much he yearns to keep living. but kenix has always been about acceptance. acceptance of his fate. This Miserable Fate

yet azrael found himself only feeling sympathy, for this was the moment that he has finally learned about his partner's true feelings. and it hurt to hear someone so important and dear to him wallow in pain and anguish like that. that version of kenix was a hostile being, but he still so clearly needed help. he needed the courage to overcome this. to break free from prometheus's influence over everything he did because he never had confidence in such actions. and azrael wanted to help with just that despite their current barrier where they cannot understand one another. just like kenix helped him, he wanted to help kenix create his own future to look forward to. without death. with azrael by his side. to survive. to keep living just like kenix desired to this whole time.

the end of their chapters as cursed beings meant that the both of them could finally experience relief together. a moment of Bliss. the realization that it is over. they get to exist, unshackled from the burdens that once plagued their minds. a possibility for salvation. a chance to live without being bound to their past or their inner desires. just peace and tranquility, their one true wish

But Uh Oh! Bad News Motherfuckers! Y'all forgot this shit was a death timeloop! With how i previously mentioned that the actual protagonist of the story, Yaku, has started a timeloop rooted in the desire of saving what meant the world to him that was dying at the end of the journey. The same kind of important people who cruelly had their lives cut short. And The only other character aware of this timeloop was well. Kenix! with this sudden ending of lives for most of the casts, azrael had also became a victim to these abrupt endings.

having to witness his love's life fade away before his eyes, it is only natural for kenix to also be shocked at the situation that yaku is also stuck in. and this scenario is exactly how yaku became the last one to be cursed, his curse rooted in his one biggest desire. a selfish deed covered up as an act of selflessness. their timelines' restarting, the flow of time now looping on and on until yaku manages to save everyone from these deaths

kenix had no control over this, he was forced to watch the protagonist and his nephew descend into madness over a singular goal. while also having to relive his entire life over and over again. a cycle of misery for everyone involved. the others would never be able to realize that this was a timeloop, so the first and the original time they had done this. Has became their script. that everyone, including kenix, had to follow until the end

of course in the first few loops, kenix had also tried to do everything in his power to ensure that his friends. that azrael. would be safe from their gruesome demise. yet their endings had already been written as part of the unchangeable fate by the forces above. neither kenix or yaku had a chance at succeeding. despite kenix's own attempts to save his partner, there was nothing he could do. he could only Watch how his impending doom was slowly getting closer

it was Painful. he could see azrael, he feel him, talk to him, interact with him in general just like normal. yet it wasn't him. no that could never be azrael ever again. that azrael felt surreal. abnormal. like he was programmed beforehand. there was nothing new about him and he felt so Off. Because kenix was aware that this is just the repeating of their original story. it's like he talked to someone playing pretend. his original feeling of "this doesn't feel real (positive)" when he first met azrael has turned into "this doesn't feel real. (derogatory)" kind of feeling. seeing azrael like this was just tormenting. a painful reminder that he will, one day, leave him not by will. and kenix will have to learn to live without him

to live without the person who had shown him love and how to love for the first time ever. a someone who had changed the course of his life so much. brought down what kenix had thought of the world and built it anew. keeping his silence about the truth because now. it was the only the thing that he could never ever tell azrael. what he had seen that day. None of it. for his sake.

perhaps, if they had never met here. if they had met at a different time.

In short, they are so fucking Doomed.

smth smth. Yeag. Good Fucking Lord They Make Me Sick