#and it was just... so enraging and made me feel so like.. helpless

[unityrain24]

is tumblr stealing my information SPECIFICALLY so they can attempt to trigger me

[tinkerbelle05]

hiii I love ur work, was wondering if u could do a midoriya x reader or todoroki x reader where reader is kidnapped by a villain to get revenge w one of them? and they have to rescue reader?? angst + hurt/comfort, happy ending preferred :>

thanks and have a great day!!!

My Hero

Paring: Pro Hero!Izuku x wife!reader

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

TW: Kidnapping, violence, angst

You felt uneasy the moment you stepped out of the house. A gut feeling maybe, but nevertheless the hairs on your back were standing tall and stiff, and had a chilling feeling running down your spine.

This feeling followed you like a shadow as you exited the supermarket with bags in hands ready to load the trunk when you felt something or someone hit you hard on the head. You stumbled to the ground, and the last thing you saw was someone standing over you with a smug smirk before everything faded to black.

You woke up to your arms and legs bound to a chair, you looked around the dingy and poorly lit room you were in. It was sparsely decorated and littered with papers and beer cans.

“Look who’s finally awake..” a deep voice, probably a man and you could feel the smugness dripping from his tone. It made you ill.

He roughly grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him. He was wearing a balaclava that concealed his entire face, leaving just his eyes visible to you. They were cold and had a crazy look to them, that’s all you really remembered about them.

“Mrs. Deku, huh? Slasher will pay us a hefty price for you.” He revealed to you, taking joy in your face, visibly paling at the name.

While Japan has returned to its era of peace, there were still people who hated the society they live in, and those who would fight for their twisted world to come to fruition.

Your husband, the pro-hero Deku was well-loved by his fans and well-hated by his enemies, especially Slasher. So hostage situations were something you were prepared for, but facing the real thing was nothing like those simulators they had you do.

You swallowed nervously and the man chuckled at your fear and uncomfortableness. All you could think about was “us”. You wondered how many of them were there. How many of them could, would hurt you. How would they hurt you, to what end.

“Well, get comfortable, princess, you’ll be here for a while—ow!” the man paused in his taunting of you to winced as the other kidnapper threw something at him.

“Stop with the taunting already and make sure she’s bound well so she can’t escape. We still need to be on alert, we ain't getting paid until she's out of Japan, dimwit.” the older one barked. He had much serious expression on his face as he

You had to remind yourself to be calm, looking at the window it was still bright outside. So it could not have been that long ago since you were taken. Izuku will find you, he always will. You kept that mantra in your head as you sat helpless in the chair but overtime you started to doubt as the sun dipped in the sky.

You didn’t want to lose faith in Izuku, because well he was your husband, your best friend, and he was someone you could always depend on. But the day was slowly turning into night and there was no sign of him or any help.

Then you heard an explosion. The older man cussed under his breath and in a flurry of action, he grabbed you and ran out the back door.

“Hey, what about me?!” The other man said but he ignored as the older man dragged through the alley.

“Hey! Stop, give her back now!” You heard an enraged voice yelling at your kidnapper. It made you stop in the tracks as the familiarity of the voice reached you and a weight had been lifted off your shoulders as relief flooded you.

Izuku was here. He had found you.

Your husband was in his hero suit, green electricity surrounded his body as he set his thunderous gaze on your kidnapper.

Immediately sensing danger, he moved you in front of his body to shield himself from Izuku.

“Don’t come near or she dies!” He threatened Izuku, you could hear the shakiness in his voice. It was as if all the confidence he had was sniffed out in the presence of Izuku.

The death threat did nothing but increase Izuku’s wrath, his green eyes zeroing in on the man. He stood silently and stiffly, simply tracking him with his eyes. Waiting for an opening to strike. His eyes made contact with you, and his face softened measureable.

He looked back at the man, “You have two options; let her go and cooperate with the police. Or don’t, and I will ruin you.”

The threat wasn’t directed to you but you felt the effect either way. Izuku is usually caring and kind that you forget how intimidating he could be when he wanted to. Especially with his towering height and bulky frame.

The kidnapper backed away in shock and fear from the threat, which made Izuku follow his every step like a predator stalking his prey, waiting for the kill. He must have found it because he pulled out black whip, dragging the kidnapper towards him and they both engaged in a violent battle.

Eventually more pro heroes and police officers arrived at the scene to help and they cornered him. Izuku immediately goes to you once the kidnapper is apprehended and you fell into his arms, resting your head on his shoulders as sobs rocked through your body. He held you tighter, if that was possible in response to your cries.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you? I swear—“ Izuku started to mumble as his eyes scanned your body for injuries.

“No, no I’m okay, Izuku. They didn’t hurt me.” You reassured him and saw the look of confusion on his face.

“They? There’s only one of them…?” Izuku looked at you with a puzzled look on his face. Vines spouted from the cracks in between the concrete and slammed into Izuku. He instantly moved you out of the way and took the impact of the kidnapper number 1’s quirk. Those same vines wrapped you up in their tight hold and all your attempts to fight was meaningless.

“Let her go!” You heard Izuku scream in a rage as he fought with the villain and eventually you were released from the vines as the kidnapper’s full attention was on Izuku. You went with a police officer to safety, but all you could do was look at Izuku fighting. You knew his chances of winning were big but you couldn’t help but worry for him.

You watched as he fought with the kidnapper, using all of his quirks in tandem to stop him. Quickly the fight is over and the kidnapper is taken into custody.

After Izuku pulled you into a quiet area, away from the prying eyes of the public; some concerned for you and others curious, he enveloped you into a tight and crushing hug. His arms rested arms at your waist and pushed you into his chest like you’ll disappear at any moment.

“I’m so sorry it took me so long to find. I’m sorry I couldn’t find you,” he rambled to you as he cried into the crock of your shoulders. You sniffed as well, feeling your adrenaline rush die down now that you were safe in his arms.

And you didn’t want to let go, ever.

Likes and reblogs are appreciated! Request info

[cardiac-arresting-sweetheart]

Enneagram of Personality - but yanderes!

click me for the google docs version of this

made this entirely for fun. i'm not a psychologist or anything... just really obsessed with the enneagram and yanderes.

referenced enneagram user guide and advanced personality's enneagram wiki for making this as i based this system on the actual enneagram types. the regular enneatype (and tritype) is probably (exceptions likely!) the same as the "yandere type" but this is how each enneatype would behave as a "yandere."

i put way too much effort into this.

Type One: The Perfector

1 wants to mold their darling. 1 will make strict demands of their darling and often have some kind of set of “rules” for them, even if it is not externalized. Feels most responsible for their darling’s behavior as though they are their misbehaving pet. Very possessive in a watchful way. High standards for Darling, will explode on them if they don’t live up to expectations. Feels entitled to Darling, similar possessiveness to 8, but it is self-righteous in 1 rather than protective in 8. Similar to 8 in forcing Darling’s dependence on them, but 2 is self-sacrificial while 8 is dominant. Similar to 2 in thinking "I CAN FIX THEM!" but 1 is more behavior-correcting, 2 more emotional comfort.

Sees their darling as someone flawed who needs to be corrected and controlled.

Most strict, demanding type. Most likely to kidnap their darling.

Trigger: Darling “misbehaving” and failing to meet their standards—or even worse, if 1 makes the mistake themself.

Type Two: The Savior

2 wants to save their darling. 2 will suffocatingly devote all of their being to them and thus suffocate them with affection. If they see their darling relying on another person, they snap. They ensure that their darling depends on them the most. Likely to create problems for darling just to solve them and be the “hero”. Very possessive in a needy way. Goes to great lengths for their darling but has internal resentment for Darling if they are not appreciated enough that will cause them to snap one day if not managed. Similar to 1 in thinking "I CAN FIX THEM!" but 2 is more emotional comfort, 1 more behavior-correcting.

Sees their darling as helpless. “Poor thing!”

Most self-sacrificial, manipulative type. Most likely to isolate Darling.

Trigger: Darling failing to appreciate 2, seeing someone else as more helpful. Someone else being nice to Darling will enrage 2.

Type Three: The Performer

3 wants to feel valued by their darling. 3 will accomplish major tasks in order to wow their darling and push their own feelings aside in order to achieve success and bolster their image. 3 makes offerings to their darling. Desires to make their darling proud of them. 3 wants to be seen as the “perfect couple” with their darling. Would probably get stupid matching couple pajamas and all that.

Sees their darling as a reflection of their success, a “trophy wife/husband.” Also sees Darling as inferior to them.

Most competitive, dedicated type. Very highly image-conscious, more obviously than 2 or 4. Likely to collar their darling, like, literally make them wear a collar. Likely to sabotage Darling’s success so they can be “better” and more “important” than Darling, keeping their attention.

Trigger: Darling seeing them as inadequate; rejection or failure or Darling overshadowing their own success.

Type Four: The Soulmate

4 wants to be the most important person to their darling. 4 will do anything for their darling to keep them from leaving them and often base their entire self-worth and identity on their darling. They are incredibly envious of others and set off by even the smallest actions that could suggest their darling thinks someone is more interesting.  Thinks that Darling is the only one to ever “understand them.” Daydreams a lot, similar to 5 and 9. Mostly quiet resentment to others but expresses it more than 5 or 9. Often appears like 2 but 4 wants Darling to rescue them rather than them rescuing Darling like a 2 (exceptions possible). Likely to guilt-trip or “sui-bait” darling but not intentionally like other types—they just feel too strongly.

Sees their darling as their “true love” or soulmate, a missing piece to fill a void inside 4.

Most emotional, sensitive type. Most delusional type. Most jealous, envious type (of course, because 4’s Passion/Sin is Envy).

Trigger: Darling overlooking them (not being “the favorite”) or misunderstanding them. Also Darling showing interest in anyone else.

Type Five: The Stalker

5 wants to understand their darling. 5 will watch from afar and seems to “take notes” on everything about their darling. They are incredibly observant and analyze everything about their darling, but are often too anxious to act and get truly close with Darling.  Resentful to everyone in Darling’s life but unlikely to act on it. Daydreams a lot, similarly to 4 and 9.

Sees their darling as fascinating.

Most observant, avoidant type. Type that stalks Darling the most. Type with the most quiet hatred.

Trigger: Infringement on their interest with Darling

Type Six: The Watchdog

6 wants to feel a loyal, secure connection with their darling. 6 is very paranoid. They see Darling as the only source of safety and stability in their lives. They constantly test their Darling’s loyalty and are likely to make other people ask their darling questions or play tricks on them to see if they’re truly loyal. Constantly on the lookout for rejection or disloyalty. They are very insecure in their relationship with Darling. Goes to extreme measures to keep Darling close, such as manipulation (very likely to guilt-trip them or “sui-bait”) or threatening other people.

Sees their darling as a protective source, most trustworthy.

Most clingy, suspicious type. Type that will become most enraged by cheating. Archetypal “murdering everyone he’s ever looked at” yandere.

Trigger: Darling betraying them, even if it is only perceived that way. 

Type Seven: The Thrillseeker

7 wants to live an exciting, happy life with their darling. 7 thinks that their darling is the key to happiness and fulfillment in their life. Very madly in love type, puppy love-esque. Overwhelming need for love from Darling. Sick with optimism and blinds self to see only the good side of Darling and love. Daydreams excessively about love. Idealizes and tolerates Darling so much that it becomes detrimental to self. Overly trusting. Loves dates and adventures with Darling.

Sees their darling as their ultimate source of joy.

Most “love at first sight” type. Hopeless romantic, in the rose-colored glasses way. Noncommittal due to being restless rather than 4’s noncommittal traits due to being fragile. One of the most clingy types. Loves love the most. Most gullible type.

Trigger: Darling limiting them or making them upset; terrified by Darling setting up boundaries. Also triggered by Darling spending time with other people.

Type Eight: The Dominant

8 wants to protect and dominate their darling. 8 sees their darling as an extension of themself and ensures that no one else has power over them. Similar to 3 in that they want everyone to know their Darling is theirs. Probably refers to Darling in possessive terms like “my [Darling].” Similar to 6 in paranoia about not trusting others with Darling, but it is more controlling in 8 versus distrustful in 6. Due to their own fear of being vulnerable, they force Darling to become vulnerable to them in order to have power. Will probably try to isolate their darling. Similar to 2 in forcing Darling’s dependence on them, but 8 is dominant while 2 is self-sacrificial.

Sees their darling as their vulnerable “toy.”

Most possessive, aggressive type. Most likely to “mark their territory”. Most likely to become violent.

Trigger: Darling or others questioning their authority; enraged if Darling tries to become independent or questions them.

Type Nine: The Lapdog

9 wants to merge their life with their darling and live in harmony. 9 avoids conflict at all costs, greatest fear of losing their darling. Suppress their own needs not out of viewing them as lesser like 2 or an interference like 3, but due to fear of conflict. Fear of negative change expressed as a fear of any change as it becomes more unhealthy into the comfort zone. Seeks fulfillment with Darling’s contentment but does not fully engage and avoids making any decisions themself. Hides in a comfort zone. Daydreams a lot, similarly to 4 and 5. Quiet resentment like 5, but it is more passive-aggressive in 9. Likely to guilt-trip Darling, on purpose or not.

Sees their darling as a “safe person.”

Most submissive, passive type. Most passive-aggressive type. Most subtle manipulation.

Trigger: Darling being upset with them.

thanks for reading :3 i may edit this some more later...? but please reblog, i'd like to see what people think of this!!

quiz assessment is here if you want to try it.

[gatheringbones]

[“HOW TRAUMA PLAYS OUT IN GROUPS

Horizontal Violence

When we can’t strike back at those who are truly harming us, we often lash out at those we can reach. We yell at our lover because we can’t yell at the boss. In groups, we may fight even the most minor conflict to the death. We attack our fellow group members with all the unexpressed rage that really belongs to the perpetrators of violence. In our minds, we are always fighting for our lives. Just as enraged dogs will attack one another with no regard for their relative size, we lose sight of real power differentials and may demolish a group member with a blast of anger without realizing that we have shifted from victim of abuse to abuser.

Horizontal Violence Strategies

Friends don’t let friends abuse one another. A group that sets healthy boundaries and standards for behavior needs to hold one another accountable for keeping them.

Offer constructive critique and honest feedback.

Collective intervention: Others in the group can support one another to tell the raging group member that their behavior is not acceptable. Couple this with:

Good cop/bad cop: While one or more group members set and hold clear boundaries, another might offer help and support to find counseling, coaching or mediation.

Mentoring: Assigning the offending person a mentor can provide long-term encouragement to both change behavior and look at deeper patterns.

The Perpetual Victim

Some people cling to the role of victim, claiming center stage. Whatever issue or drama erups somehow always ends up being about them. Their patterns may originate from deep hurt and trauma and we can feel sympathy, but colluding with them is not helpful either to the person or the group. Fruitless efforts to appease them can drain the group’s energy and undermine its effectiveness.

When we are caught up in the role of victim, our speech and actions reflect our sense of powerlessness. To regain our sense of empowerment, we might begin by challenging the inherent assumptions in our words and practicing alternative framings and affirmations.

Blaming

Statement: “You made me feel …”

Assumptions: I am at the mercy of other people’s speech and actions. I am helpless to do anything but respond to how others treat me.

Alternate suggestion: I choose how to respond to other people’s statements and assessments. I can choose what to take in and what to discard. My feelings are real and valid, but I can move through them quickly and separate them from my own assumptions and other people’s judgments.

Blurting

Statement: “I have to speak my truth.” Translation: I’m about to blurt out something hurtful in the most blunt way possible. Assumptions: Truth is uncomfortable, painful and festering. My feelings and perceptions are The Truth, and I must get it out just as I might vomit up a bad meal, regardless of consequences.

Alternate suggestion: I choose to speak my truth, using all my sensitivity, wisdom and skill so that I can be clearly heard and effective.

Bleating

Statement: “I’m being silenced.”

Assumption: If people actually heard me, they would agree with me. So if they don’t agree with me, they are shutting me down.

Alternate suggestion: I can advocate for my own perspective — whether or not others agree — and respect their right to differ. I do not need anyone’s permission to advocate for myself.

Strategies for Transforming the Role of Victim

Clear, fair and transparent ways that people can earn power in the group will provide constructive alternatives to victimization.

Structures and practice of constructive critique can provide positive channels for complaints.

Encourage responsibility with questions like: What would you suggest to make the situation different? What structures would you like to see in place that would help us address your needs and concerns?”]

starhawk, from the empowerment manual: a guide for collaborative groups, 2011

[rainba]

Hihihihi!!! How would the sillies respond to a darling who's self destructive (both socially and physically, like self harm and self sabotage)? I love ur OCS btw ur writing is amazing 💘

Aww, thank youuu!! :3c

And thank you for the ask!! It's really made me think....

Huge warning for these responses, they are very… Dark. If these topics make you uncomfortable, please feel free to skip this one!

TWs/tags: self-harm, toxic behaviors from the yans.. Lots of angst (plus comfort)

For Kairos, it’d be a really unhealthy situation. He, too, engages in really self-destructive behaviors, and if his darling also does it, he’d only end up enabling you even further. In some way, Kairos would see it as “beautiful”, the two of you suffering together at your own hands... He’d be one of those people that would watch you cut yourself and then kiss your scars right after… And then he’d cut himself in the same places, just so you two can “match.”

And if you’re socially self-destructive? Pushing everybody away because you just feel like everyone secretly hates you, or for some other reason? It’s okay– all you need is Kairos, anyway! You can destroy all of your other relationships, so long as you keep Kairos close to you.

He’ll love you forever and ever, you never have to worry about him leaving you. If you push him away, he’ll keep coming back. You could be at your absolute worst, and he’d still view you as a perfect angel. It’s… Not healthy. But he can’t help it.

However– if you were to ever put yourself into any life-threatening situations, or if you genuinely wanted to die, he'd become downright terrified and would try his best to make you stop your self-destructive behaviors. After all, he loves you too much– he doesn’t want you to die. The two of you need to live long, happy lives together! If engaging in all these self-destructive things with you might lead to your death, he’ll do everything in his power to make it stop, and he'll also make sure that the both of you get better. He'll hold your hand every step of the way, recovering alongside you. And he'd never judge you for relapsing.

Basically, it's sort of like this: if you want to get worse, Kairos will also get worse. If you want to get better, Kairos will do everything in his power to help you, and he’d also try to help himself along the way. It’s almost like he’s mirroring you, in some ways.

As for Luka, he’d have a totally opposite reaction to Kairos. He would be enraged that you actively hurt yourself. He’d handle it pretty badly. If he found out that you actively harm yourself, he would refuse to take his eyes off of you and would be monitoring your every movement... You'd suddenly never get a moment to yourself.

When you’re using the bathroom, he’ll be standing next to you the whole time. When you shower, he’ll be showering with you. When you go to sleep, he'll be caging you in his arms.

If you have a job, he might actually force you to quit, just so he can monitor you even further. Either that, or he’ll make you take a temporary leave from work until he knows that you’ve stopped hurting yourself.

It’s… Absolutely not a good way to go about it, he knows this, but it’s the only thing he can think of doing. It's his gut reaction to it all.

Luka would keep asking you ‘why’ as he holds you tightly in his arms, glaring at you while also having pitiful tears in his eyes. For one of the first times in his life, he feels so deeply hurt and confused. He isn't prepared at all to handle the feelings that are bubbling within himself. Luka would also start losing lots of sleep.

When you’re sleeping peacefully in bed beside him, he’d sit up and bed and just… Stare at you for hours.

Slowly, he'd start kissing your cheeks, stroking your hair, and then holding you close as he tries not to be upset with you. He knows that you’re hurting… And he loathes how helpless he feels. While he��s not the biggest advocate for therapy, he would ask you to go see a therapist. He knows that he alone can’t help you– and that it’s impossible for him to just monitor you every second of every day.

If you refuse to see a therapist, he’ll be upset, but he won't force you to go. All he tells you is that if you need it, he’ll listen to you– even though he’s horrible at giving good advice. But at the very least, he’s really good at just listening to you. He’ll remember everything you tell him. And any time you show signs of improvement, he will be proud of you.

As for socially sabotaging yourself, it’s the same as Kairos. All you really need is Luka, so… He won’t stop you from cutting everyone else off. ^^;;

[crowinkwriting]

Argument

[Discontinuing this cause I changed Rooks, but I'm very proud of how it came out so I'm keeping it posted. ROOK'S FAMILY TREE]

Warning: Minor end game spoilers in this chapter, mainly about Lucanis's questline.

“NO!” “Mom-” Rook was quickly cut off by her mother. The older woman looked more enraged than Rook had ever seen her. Passing the captain’s cabin, Angela didn’t even seem to care when her side hit the chair next to her desk. The anger was painted clear on she face as she processed what Rook was asking. Her daughter moving to Antiva? And with the First Talon at that?

“Do not ‘mom’ me! You are NOT moving to Antiva! And certainly not with him!” Angela snaps, pointing to Lucanis who had been quietly standing off to the side. He hadn’t said much since they’d come to talk to Rook’s mom. He knew better than to argue with the same woman who’d made her disdain for him obvious at day one, and didn’t seem to mind reminding him at every chance. So he let Rook handle her mother.

“Mom please-” Rook's plea was cut off again.

“Do you realize how crazy this is? You don’t even know any Antivan.” 

“I can learn.”

“And do what? Be a Crow? You’re not an assassin!”

“I’ll find something.”

“You’ve never even lived alone.”

“I won’t be alone.”

Regardless of any answer Rook was giving Angela she still didn’t seem at ease. Finally the older woman paused in her passing and looked at Lucanis. “Was this your idea?” She demanded. Lucanis hadn’t been able to get a word in before Rook spoke up again.

“It wasn’t him. I made this choice on my own.” Rook insists.

Angela sighs and steps forward, taking hold of Rook’s hands lightly. A soft hold Angela used to use when guiding Rook as a child. “Inky, darling, just rejoin the Lords of Fortune.” Angela pleaded. A look of desperation on her face.

Rook wasn’t sure what to say, she couldn’t say anything. Behind all the anger and resentment towards Lucanis she knew her mother was terrified. Another one of her daughters would be moving what felt like a world away. A world away where Angela can’t look after her. It almost broke Rook’s heart, but she knew she had to stand firm. “Ma’am I-” 

“I was not asking you, Crow.” Angela snapped, cutting Lucanis off. “Mom!” Rook was in disbelief at how hostile her mother was towards Lucanis. Rook sighs and steps back from her mother. “This… this isn’t up for discussion. I’m moving to Treviso.” Angela sighed in frustration and glanced at her desk before turning to Lucanis. “I would like to speak to my daughter. Alone.” She states.

He hesitated for a moment, but left the ship cabin without argument. After watching him leave Rook turns back to her mother. Before Rook can say anything else Angela lets out a loud sigh and sits in the interrogation chair at her desk. That chair had been a gift from Rook’s father. One of the first he’d given Angela when they became partners. Even with him gone Angela had made sure it stayed in perfect condition.

Looking at the old chair Rook was reminded of the life her parents had together, how much they loved and cherished each other. How much her mother still loves him, even with him being gone for almost two years now. Rook wanted that with Lucanis, but she couldn’t see why her mom couldn’t see that. “Do you have any idea what you are doing?” Angela asked, so quiet it’s almost a mutter.

Rook took a deep breath, trying to hold in the tears that were forming in her eyes. She knew breaking down and crying wouldn’t help her case, but she had never had to fight her mother like this. It made Rook feel ashamed and helpless. The plans were set and Rook was leaving but she didn’t want it to go like this. “Yes. Mom, it’ll be fine.” Rook says, trying to stop her voice from shaking.

“He is a Crow.”

“I know.”

“Not only that, he is the First Talon now!” Angela says with a sigh.

“I know. I was there when Caterina announced it.” Rook reminds her. “and I got to go to the party.”

“And yet you still let him in your bed!?” Angela 

“He loves me.” Rook muttered, finding it harder to keep it together. This had not been how she’d hoped it would go. Her mother had never liked Lucanis nor did she try to hide it. Still Rook had hoped she would come around, especially after everything Lucanis and Rook had done together.

Six months of taking things as slow as possible and Angela still didn’t trust the Crow. Her mistrust grew when news of his promotion had reached her. Rook sighed. Not out of frustration or annoyance, but of being tired. Rook was just so tired. Of the arguing, or the justifications, or defending Lucanis at every turn.

“Love is not a replacement for common sense.” Angela snaps, clearly frustrated. The older elf paused, realizing her growing frustration was not going to help this conversation go well.

“I know you think he loves you, and… maybe he does treat you well, but a wolf is still a wolf even if it has a collar on.” Angela insists, approaching Rook with a much softer tone. Getting close enough Angela puts her hand on Rook’s shoulder. “He is a very dangerous man, and don’t think you’re safe because he ‘loves’ you now.”

“If he was going to hurt me he could have already.” Rook points out.

“He is not the issue. It is everything that comes with him. The Crows, Antiva, the politics. I promise you nothing good has ever happened to anyone who’s married into the Dellamorte family. Especially the women.” Angela explains. At this Rook simply rolls her eyes and pulls away from her mother.

“We’re not getting married.” The young woman states, trying to think of any way out of this stupid argument. “I’m just moving to Treviso.”

Angela steps closer to Rook again, trying to reach out to her daughter. “Yet people will view you as an extension of him. A smaller and vulnerable extension.”

“Mom. I’m going.” Rook states, much firmer than she’d ever been with her mother. The older woman was a little taken aback by Rook’s tone. She was truly sticking to this choice.

The two stood in silence for a good two minutes, both refusing to back down. Eventually Angela looks her daughter up and down before stepping back.

“Just… if anything happens please promise me you’ll come home.”

Rook was visibly surprised by her mother giving in. She never gave in or backed down. Right or not the pirate captain was as stubborn as they came, especially about her kids. Sheepishly Rook stepped forward and let her mother pull her into a hug. “I will. I’ll make sure to write too.” Rook says quietly.

The two let the hug linger, Angela being too afraid to let go. Too afraid to let her child go. Two years away and she was losing Rook again, but somehow this felt scarier. Somehow her fighting a god was not nearly as scary as what Angela feared she’d meet in Treviso.

[ilydeku]

listen.. listen.. izuku doesn’t have time for reader because of being a pro hero ANGST.

BREAKING MY HEARTTT

culpability | izuku x reader

Your eyes fluttered open, waking up to the sound of items being shuffled around and bags being zipped up downstairs. At first, you suspected it to be a robbery but your thought changed when you realized Izuku wasn't in bed with you. You leaned over your nightstand and checked your phone. 11:38. What could he be doing up so late? Naturally, you got out of bed, stepped into your white fluffy slippers, and quietly headed downstairs. Your eyebrows furrowed as your eyes adjusted to the darkness, the living room coming into view. Izukus's back was turned and he seemed to be packing clothing and toiletries in, not one, but three large suitcases.

"Izuku..." He turned around, surprised by your sleepy voice. "...where are you going?" He gazed upon you with grief.

"I told you, y/n, remember? I have to go on a month's trip to America for a crisis that's been occurring throughout the state. Illegal activities like quirk disabling and amplifying drugs have been being processed throughout the state. Raids, arson, and homicide have also severely increased. America's hero council contacted top heroes from around to world to address the situation until the numbers start to fall," explained Izuku.

"What?" Your eyebrows furrowed once more. You leaned against the stair railing and crossed your arms over your chest. "You never told me this?"

Izuku frowned.

"I did. I said it on the phone last week-"

"But you didn't tell me this was a month-long trip, did you? You said it was for a week."

"I..." He averted his eyes out of guilt, turning around to continue packing. He could feel your eyes burning through him. He could feel you as you stepped closer and closer to him. He could feel every emotion emitting from you. "...I need to do this y/n, it's important." You huffed forcefully, temper clearly shown. Hero work, hero work, hero work. That's all he seemed to care about. There are some times when you wish he hadn't pursued the occupation, but you know that's wrongful thinking. But why doesn't he get it? He has a loving wife and two beautiful children. Does he not see the responsibility here?

"You know what's more important? Being here as a father for our 9-year-old son and 5-year-old daughter, yeah? You never spend enough time at home and you're always off to work every day, barely anytime to say hello or goodbye to them!" You snapped. Clearly, he wasn't paying you any mind.

Izuku sighed. "...It's only one month y/n, I promise I'll be ho-"

"So you're just going to leave us here? How the hell am I supposed to put food on the table when I have to be here with the kids?" Your voice grew louder and louder with every word, your teeth practically bearing. To you, it might've seemed he was ignoring you, but it's quite the opposite really. He flinched a bit with every shout of your voice. He's never seen you with so much fury. It made him miserable hearing your cries and shattering enrage. He stood up and turned around, placing his hands on your waist.

"Don't worry, y/n. The government will be paying us when I'm gone...I have to go soon. There are helpless people out there who need a hero to save them, criminals, to be captured, and chaos to be fought away. I'm sure you'll be f-"

SLAP

Izuku's eyes widened in shock. Your body dropped down to the floor, your hands hiding the flowing tears, followed by erratic breathing. Your face was burning with stress, anger, and sadness. You wanted to apologize for inflicting pain on him, but at the same time, you hoped that it stung as much as his actions did. How could he leave all of a sudden? For a whole month too? What if something bad happens to him? What would happen to you and your kids then? Izuku's reached his hand up to his cheek, still in shock by your measures. He stared down at your broken figure.

"Y/n...-" He crouched down to you and held out his calloused, scar-driven hand. The hand that intertwined with yours on your first date. The hand that slipped the diamond ring on your finger.

You slapped it away.

"No, Izuku. Just go." By then, your little ones were already up, quietly listening from upstairs. "Just go already. Maybe you shouldn't even come back. Leave us here." Tears were falling down his own face. His heart ached from hearing those painful words. He huffed, picking up his luggage and walking towards the front door. As he was about to leave, he muttered, "I'll be back soon," and left without another word. As the front door closed, you shot up and ran to it, swinging it wide open to see Izuku still in view. You clenched your jaw as tears threatened to fall again.

With all your anger, dejection, and sorrow, you cried out at the top of your voice, "You call yourself a hero!? You go around liberating society and its strangers, but you can't even save your own family!?"

He stopped dead in his tracks and turned around. There were no tears, no cries, yet he held the most remorseful expression you've ever had the heart to discern.

But he kept going, walking until he was out of sight, into the abyss of darkness you pray he'd never fall into.

support me? :)

[konigenblobbity]

It Wasn’t my Fault… [Part 1]

Javier Peña x F!Reader

Warnings: angst, cheating, arguing, cussing

—> [Part 2]

Summary: You’ve been with Javier for 3 years. And after a particularly successful mission you decide to surprise him by visiting the bar where they all went after work. The sight that awaited you as you got there wasn’t your boyfriend with open arms… It was him sitting at the bar with another woman, his lips pressed against her neck while his hands slide up her thighs. You felt your whole reality collapse…

“You really expect me to believe that?!” You were beyond livid at this point. You stand across from Javier, the man who you’d trusted more than anyone in the world. A man who’d stolen your heart effortlessly, who’d you spend countless nights thanking the universe for. But now, you didn’t even recognize him.

You had both your hands gripping the kitchen counter behind you. Trying to find some sort of purchase to keep from collapsing. You have to appear as composed as possible… because in a single moment you might give in and break down. And you know in that state you wouldn’t have the strength to push him away.

“Hermosa… just listen, I swear it wasn’t what it looked like” he spoke softly. As if he might scare you away if he spoke to loud. You were glaring at him, your eyes burning into his own desperate ones. Matching the desperate tone of his voice as he spoke… you’d never heard him sound so vulnerable. And that only enraged you more.

“Please. I think I saw enough, it’s not exactly something you can just explain away”

You and Javier had been dating for 3 years. Having met him during one of his cases. You happened to be a witness which they were interviewing. Javier admiring your body the whole time, and you couldn’t help but do the same. To keep it short… Javier ended up doing more than interviewing you.

You both thought it’d be a one time thing, but slowly as the weeks passed you couldn’t help but fantasize about him. Little did you know, he was doing the same, spending many restless nights thinking about you. The two of you ended up reuniting by chance a week or so later. Javier took that as his opportunity to ask you out on a date, which you happily accepted.

Since then, the relationship between you two blossomed. It was built on trust, love, and the idea that time is short, especially in his line of work, so you’d both enjoy that time together. He’d come over most days after work, just wanting to be close to you.

Today Javier and his team had finished a big case. So, being the thoughtful girlfriend you are, you wanted to surprise Javier tonight by heading to the local pub him and the others were celebrating. You arrived roughly 30 minutes after everyone else, wearing a black cocktail dress that Javier had threatened to tear to shreds multiple times.

When you walked in, you were immediately welcomed and greeted by a few agents, many of them recognizing you from when you would visit Javier at work. After greeting them, and exchanging a few hugs you went further into the crowd, searching for one man, the star of the night; your boyfriend, Javier Peña.

You smiled when you spotted his figure at the bar, immediately recognizing his shirt which you’d stolen many times, and his trousers which you’d always thought were a bit tight on him. However, your smile dropped in an instant when you finally got a good view of his face, well… that would be if it wasn’t stuffed in the neck of another woman.

His hands were on her thighs, softly caressing them as they slid under the thin fabric of her dress, making her giggle. What really made your stomach drop… was how he smirked against her skin when she did. Her neck littered with a few red marks. You could feel your whole reality collapse… none of it felt real. As if the sight before you was a dream or some kind of mirage.

Your entire body tensed and you couldn’t help the way your eyes welled up. Unable to look away, you stand there, frozen, helpless, beginning to fidget with the ring comfortably sat on the pointer finger of your right hand. He had given it to you two weeks ago… for your anniversary. Engraved in the inner band were the words “Mrs Peña”.

“A promise to you Princessa… that one day. I will give you my name. And with it, my entire heart, soul, and being” Those were the words he’d told you as he slid it onto your finger. Never had a man made you sob like you did that day… well. That was until right now.

You finally had enough and walked over to him and his mystery woman, slamming the ring down on the counter next to them. “You can keep your name you asshole” you words laced with venom, not wasting another glance as you marched out of the bar as composed as you could manage.

From behind you, you heard soft cursing and then the loud thud of a chair hitting the ground. You began walking faster, feeling your blood boil as you heard the woman yell after him.

Although he tried to grab you as you walked away, you always kept your distance, just focusing on getting home. Of course he was following you, calling out to you in order to grab your attention, trying to get you to listen. He was pleading for you to “Just look at me…” But you ignored every word.

Once you got home you threw your bag onto the couch and approached the kitchen counter, placing both your hands on the edge, facing away from him. You heard Javier’s footsteps walk into the apartment after you, the door shutting behind him before he spoke up again. “Hermosa please just look at me… I can explain everything”

You finally gain the courage to turn around and look at him. Still leaning on the counter behind you using your hands, gripping the edge tightly, desperately looking for stability. You stayed silent as you both took in the sight of the other. Javier’s face dropped, guilt visible in his expression, his brows were furrowed as he saw the betrayal painted on your features. The tears you were desperately holding back threatening to break away.

When you finally looked at him, you only got more irritated. The collar of his shirt was unbuttoned at the top, a smudge of red lipstick on it, his shirt slightly untucked from his pants… it all added fuel to an already raging fire within you.

“Come on then Javier. Explain” your voice was stern, you were trying to stay as level headed as possible, but the waiver in your voice showed just how unstable you were right now. As if you would explode at any moment.

“It wasn’t my fault, I was ju-“ he goes to say and you let out an exasperated scoff. “You really expect me to believe that?!” You were beyond livid at this point. You stood up straight and pointed at him; still frozen by the entrance of the apartment.

He raised his hands as if surrendering to you. “Hermosa… just listen, I swear it wasn’t what it looked like” he spoke softly. As if he might scare you away if he spoke to loud. You brought a hand up to your face, pinching the bridge of your nose as your eyebrows furrowed.

“Please. I think I saw enough, it’s not exactly something you can just explain away” you hear him start to step closer to you, causing you to look back up again. “no Princessa please, I ca-“. He reached towards you and tried to place his hands on your arms, you immediately shoved his hands away.

He paused for a second before dropping his arms to his sides, clearly now trying to hold back his own tears. He clenched his fists, his breathing growing shaky. “I would never cheat on you” he says simply and you immediately snap back “then what would you have called that? Hm? That you were just smelling her perfume? Just wanted to see what fabric her dress was made of?”

He was silent for a moment. Unable to think of an answer which both justified him and would satisfy you. “I-I… Hermosa it wasn’t like that… it wasn’t my fault!” He continues to plead to you. Hoping you’d understand. But how could you… everything he said did nothing to explain why he had his lips pressed against another woman’s neck.

“Bullshit Javier! You’re such a fucking liar! You can’t even own up to what you did! You haven’t even apologized yet!” You were yelling now… letting loose at this moment, berating and scolding him. Your tone did nothing to calm his growing worry… the worry of losing you. Of having messed up so badly that you’d finally decide to leave him.

“I know! You’re right! Look i’m sorry! Hermosa I’m-“ he tries to calm you, reaching his hands forward again and placing them on your arms. This time you don’t push them away. He took this as a good sign but it was just you trying to organize your racing thoughts. “Don’t call me that” You left no room for argument, your words like a dagger to his heart.

“No… Hermosa please don’t -“ you interrupted him again. “Don’t. Call me that Peña.” the way you spoke sent fear through him. He could feel you moving away, not only physically, but emotionally. He could tell how you were slowly letting your image of him slip, that image of him as your loving boyfriend.

“Wait… no please. I’m sorry. God I’m so so sorry” he begins to ramble, slowly dropping down to his knees in front of you, his hands sliding down to your waist where he wraps his arms around you tightly. Digging his face into your stomach as he began to sob. “Please. Princessa… I love you” his voice sounded broken. You looked down at his trembling figure.

You felt your heart cry out, wanting so badly to kneel down and hold him close. Tell him it’s okay. That you still love him. Because of course you did. You loved him more than anything in the world, but you no longer trusted him.

“I think I should leave. Go stay with a friend for a bit” you spoke softly, but still sounded completely unwavering in your words. He began to shake his head into your stomach. “No please… stay…” he began to plead and beg again, completely desperate now.

“I’ll make it up to you, I swear, I’m sorry. Im so goddamn sorry. Don’t leave me…” he continues to ramble and you move your hands to his arms wrapped around you. You try to pry them off of you but he won’t let go… his grip only tightens around you. “Peña. Let go” you hoped he would just listen, and not make this harder for the both of you.

But he doesn’t budge… only shakes his head. “No… no I won’t. Because if I do, it might be the last time I ever get to hold you” his voice was broken, tears now staining your shirt. You felt one of his arms move from around your waist, watching as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the ring that you slammed on the counter back at the pub.

“Please. I made a promise Princessa…” he says pulling away his other arm and instead grabbed your right hand. He then hovers the ring over the tip of your index finger. His hands were shaking, in fact… his whole body was shaking. You reach your left hand up, using it to slowly push away his hand holding the ring. “It’s too late. You already broke it. I need space Peña”

Once those words reached his ears he began sobbing again. He let go of your hand and his arms went limp at his sides. “No…” was the only thing he could manage to say. His head still leaning against you, it takes every part of yourself to step back, walking away from his kneeling form.

His head dropped down, eyes clenched shut as more tears fall down his face. You silently headed to the couch, grabbing your bag. “Don’t text me or call me. Just give me space” you spoke softly before your voice was broken with shaky breath and a soft cry.

You open the door of your shared apartment and turn your head one last time, Javier hasn’t moved an inch. Still kneeling on the ground holding the ring. “Goodbye Peña” you say as you leave, shutting the door behind you. You can still hear his broken cries through the door as you walk off, vision blurry with your burning tears.

“Please Hermosa… I can’t lose you. You’re my everything… how can I give space to the one thing that keeps me going”

[szasfuckingwife]

PROJECT Z

PT2 of PROJECT X

EREN YEAGER X FEM!READER

WARNINGS: a little fluff + angst, Eren grovelling for forgiveness.

a/n: idk how yall will react to this cuz i genuinely dk if it’s good or bad😩

You vividly remember the moment where you found out Eren cheated on you. Vividly, due the emotional crash you had the the two weeks after.

It was a Thursday and you were in his home. You’d just finished helping the stubborn boy finish his homework. One thing that was clear in memory was how he looked at you. With so much love and adoration, you would’ve never guessed what you’d soon find in his phone after he went to get snacks.

Once he left the room, a plethora of texts hit his phone from ‘LY’. Obviously, you were nosy and there was no doubt you’d try see who it was.

After two failed attempts, you finally guessed your boyfriends password that he seemingly changed.

However, you were met with a sight that changed the trajectory of your high school experience.

LY : Eren stop stringing me along

LY: Ik you said to give you more time but honestly i can’t

LY: you can’t just tell me you don’t love her than go on dates with her and shit

LY: I don’t wanna get hurt, I told you that

LY: whatever. you’re pissing me off n i’m done

Stupidly, you wanted to say sorry to her on behalf of Eren for how he was seemingly treated her. But why? Eren didn’t want you; he wanted her. The texts serving as proof to that. Nor ‘LY’ or Eren cared about you enough to admit to you the truth.

Why should you be the one feeling bad?

A sudden creak of Eren’s door made your heart skip a beat, and not in the way it did before when you saw him.

It angered you. The curve of the lips that you loved to kiss. The red in his cheeks after running upstairs, almost as if ran because he didn’t want you to be by his phone for too long. And his hair, that you had ran your hand through countless of times.

“You good?”, He chuckled, almost confused. That was until he saw his phone in your hand, and the messages with him and whoever ‘LY’ was.

When your eyes met with his, you almost broke down there in front of him. But you wouldn’t let him get that satisfaction, “What is this, Eren?”

The way you uttered his name showed him how helpless and overall done you were. He saw the way your eyebrows raised ever so slightly as if you were a baby, trying not to cry.

“What do you mean what is this-” “Who’s this ‘LY’, hm?”, You stand up just before he sits next to you. Anger was laced in your every movement that you made. You gripped so tightly on his phone that you thought it would snap.

But your face didn’t show that. Instead, an enraged girl was replaced by a heartbroken one.

“He’s…No, She’s some girl in my class. She means nothing to me, [Y/N].” Eren stands, looking down at you, desperately searching for a way to cover this up. “Why are you on my phone?”

His question took you aback. The loving boy was gone and in his place, a lunatic.

You struck his cheek immediately following his question, the sharp sound echoed throughout the room, contrasting the melodic Jhene Aiko playing from his speaker.

There’s nothing but disbelief on your face as you unwillingly tear up, “How can you ask me that?! You cheated on me, Eren. Y-You date me for a whole year and this is how you end it? Like this?”

He refused- no - he couldn’t look at you and see the girl he loved have nothing but hatred in her eyes.

“I trusted you. I let you into my home, meet my mom, my family. I meet yours…I-I show you my body, I trust you but you just don’t care, hm?’ Now, you’re sobbing. Words come out in a shaky rhythm with a voice break following it.

“[Y/N], she’s nothing, okay?”, He sighs and it breaks your heart. You couldn’t tell if it was an annoyed sigh or a desperate one. How was it that you couldn’t even tell if he was lying like you could before? “C’mon, [Y/N], you have to give me a chance to explain myself.”

“Explain what exactly?”

The silence in the room was thick. If you focused hard enough, you could’ve heard the rapid speed in which Eren’s heart was beating.

“If you wanted a relationship with whoever this is, you could’ve just told me.” Your hoarse voice frightened him as he looked at you pleadingly. “When did this start?”

He remained silent, annoying you further, “You owe me that. Tell me when it started-”

“After the party you planned for Sasha!”, He interrupted you.

It was stupid. Believing that he left your little gathering because his brother came back from college. But you did it anyway, because of love.

“This is fuckin’ crazy.” You chuckled, placing his phone on the counter and leaving his room.

When you left, Carla, his mother, looked at you with concern. It was hard to assume that she heard your conversation or if she just saw your tear stricken face.

She’s placed her bag on the coffee table, “Is everything okay, sweetheart?”

You nodded, and left the house.

Once you completed your homework, you felt the need to just sit and think.

What did you want?

Truth be told, you wanted Eren, minus the bad attributes. No gaslighting, no dishonesty, no disloyalty.

Just Eren and the way he loves.

Those nights where you were snuggled together, enjoying each other’s presence with sage wafting around in the air. Or him telling Connie to ‘Fuck off’ after you asked him to get off the game.

This was grief.

Yes, of a high school relationship, but grief nonetheless.

He mattered to you, and still does. You find yourself thinking about him in Psychology or staring at him when he read out a sonnet in front of the whole English class.

All you wanted to do is run up there, slap him him, kick him, yell at him. Then, kiss those bruises and hold him in your arms once more.

Whatever, it’s the weed talking.

Eren was a wreck. The suffocating smell of weed was taking over his room, essays were getting hand in late and he was just, overall, a wreck.

He was in chemistry contemplating whether to leave the classroom, or stay and listen to Mr Ackerman yap about whatever atoms were on the outer shell.

“Eren, bro, chill. You’re acting like a bitch, [Y/N] will come back-”

“No, she won’t.” Lana interrupted Jean, and silenced him. Eren mentally rolled his eyes, realising that if your best friend saw you do that, there was no way you’d get back together.

“Babe, if you cheated on me, I’d take you back.” Jean smooched his girlfriend on the cheek just before she protested.

Connie scoffed, “That’s ‘cause no one else would want your lame ass.”

“And because he wouldn’t find anyone better.” Lana added. She squeezed Jean’s cheeks with her hand and looked at him closely. “You’re also forgetting that I wouldn’t either.”

This was just what Eren needed. The concept of love being so far yet so near. His friends, his brother, nearly everyone he knew was in love with somebody; everyone but him.

“Lana.” Eren spoke. She glance at him, confused on why his voice was so serious. “I want her back.”

No one knew if it was shock or disbelief that made Lana look at Eren the way she did, but whatever it was, she wasn’t happy.

Her brows furrowed slightly, “And let you cheat on her again? Nah.”

“Lana, he was literally crying towards us on how much he wants [Y/N] back.” Connie chuckled slightly, not noticing the death stare his friend was giving him.

However, Lana just shrugged. “You should have thought about that before you cheated.”

She was right, and there was nothing Eren could do about it. Even if you guys did get back together, there would always be a left over mark on your relationship.

“But, I’m not gonna lie and say she doesn’t miss you.”

Eren’s head shot up at her words: there was hope. “She’s moved on but the fact that she’s still upset means she still cares about you. And, even if I hate you, I know you care about her. And it pains me to say that-”

“What she’s tryna say is that she doesn’t mind if you two get back together.” Jean interrupts his girlfriend, much to her anger.

“That is not what I was saying.” Lana shoved Jean . “I’m saying that if she takes you back, don’t fuck up.”

It was the night of senior prom and you felt awkward with your, or lack of, a date. Sure, it was nice soaking up all the attention your family gave you as you strutted outside in a gorgeous gown, but it was bittersweet.

“[Y/N], cmon lets go dance!” Sasha tried to pull you off your seat.

You smiled, shaking your head, “No, Niccolo will be lonely! He needs you.”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine, Connies around somewhere.” And as much as you disliked it, Sasha had you on your feet in the middle of the dance floor.

However, you felt no need for dancing. You felt the need to go home and cry.

He was here in a teal suit, contrast to the repetitive black you see amongst the boys. His hair, in a man bun as pear usual. He wore two diamonds stud and a pandora bracelet that you got him after two months together.

You watch him as he heads straight for his boys, basking in the compliments they were giving him. He smiles, pretending to blush as if his friends were spitting some actual game for once.

He looks so fine.

“I know you’re not looking at who I think you are…” Lana sighs as Mikasa and Sasha are on either side of her. “After the week of tears…[Y/N] I swear…”

You look down at your feet as you speak. “You know, he’s wearing the bracelet I got him…”

Your words silence them as they look at you with sympathy in their eyes. If it weren’t for Jean wrapping his arms around Lana at that moment, a tear might’ve fell from your eye.

“Babe, after they announce prom king and queen, I can drop you home if you want..?” He says to her. It’s wrong for you to be jealous, because it’s Lana, your best friend.

But, it reminds you of Eren.

“No, it’s okay I’ll-” Lana stops as you all hear the familiar melodic opening of a song you all know well.

The Lady of My Life by Michael Jackson.

For fuck sake you silently curse whatever possessed the dj to play this song.

Eren introduced you to this song. You remember one day, you were checking out his playlist and giggled at the sight MJ, seeing as Michael’s bouncy music contradicts with Eren’s intimidating demeanour.

But when you first listen to the song, and it’s lyrics, it’s different from how you normally perceive Michael. It’s slow, melodic and soothing.

Eren made you feel these feelings, no one else.

He introduced you to what actual love was, never mind his later regrettable actions.

You start to walk towards your table, deciding sitting down was better than wandering alone on the dance floor.

Until..

“You didn’t seriously think I’d let you sit when this is our song, right?” Eren appeared in sight and he held your hand.

You sigh. “Eren, just move-”

“Let me have this one dance. And then, you can forget I ever existed.” He smirks, digging his other hand in his pocket as if he was waiting for you to make a decision.

That stupid smirk, you thought. It wins you over every time.

Once more you sigh as he guides you to the dance floor. Whilst MJ is belting out how much he loves this girl, all Eren can think about is how, if given the opportunity, he’d be serenading you right now.

You’re all he knows, and hopefully, all he’ll ever know. After the basketball team, weed and his guard gets stripped away from him, all that’s left is a small boy that is trying to learn about love. His mother and father’s early divorce being testimony to that.

As the song plays, you find yourself laying your face on his chest, revelling in his scent.

“This is nice.”

You look up at him. “What do you mean?”

He shrugs, “Being this close with you again. We haven’t had chance to properly talk.”

A chuckle almost left your lips as you find the irony in his words.

Last time you talked, he called you a whore.

“What’s there to talk about, Eren?” You almost want to just ignore him and let bygones be bygones. But of course you don’t.

“The fact that I still love you. Never stopped.” The way that he admitted that, as if you wouldn’t believe him, moved you in some sort of way.

Whether it be the softness in his eyes, or the calming way in which he spoke.

You sigh, “You love me?”

He nods.

“But you humiliated me. You cheat on me, then call me a whore.” You speak bluntly, almost scaring him with your unruffled attitude. Your heart was screaming, ‘He loves you! Can’t you see?!’ but your brain told you the complete opposite.

And, if not your brain, maybe the stares that Lana passed to you.

“You know me, [Y/N], I was wrong. And, I am sorry. I hurt you in the worst way possible. I don’t know if you can forgive me but I promise you that I will stop at nothing if it means you do.” Eren smiled. “Like I said at the party, mom misses you.”

Everything holding your heart together melts at his words. Maybe it was time to forgive and move on. It seems he’s changed; Eren would never be this sentimental when you two were together.

“Okay.” You whisper. “I’ll let you make it up to me. That doesn’t mean we’re back together. Like, at all. It’s just me giving you a chance.”

Immediately, you see happiness radiate on his face as he nods eagerly.

In ten or so years, you’ll smile at this moment: the time you forgave your then boyfriend for cheating. Whether that memory is filled with regret or gratitude is up to him. You’d like to think in those years you’d be married with a kid on the way.

You’d host frequent dinner parties with Jean, Lana, Connie Armin and Annie and whoever else you guys cherished so much.

And, maybe, at the end of the dinner, he’d pull you in, embracing you. Maybe, followed with a whisper of ‘I love you’.

But for now, a sweet little senior prom dance is enough for you and him.

a/n: yall pls don’t bully me if this is mid😭😭

[clawbehavior]

zero context WIP game! thanks for the tags @killerandhealerqueen and @fourth-quartet 🥰🥰

i'm playing fast and easy with the rules of this one (which you can find here). instead, you'll find numbered snippets from a bunch of WIPs i am 75-90 per cent done but ambivalent about which to update first. gahan readers, what interests you most?

--

1. even gods can't change the past

gaon stares listlessly at the stickers lining the base of the night lamp. despite repeated disinfectings, they haven't come off, dinosaurs, trucks, sparkly muffins. things he had put there to make their hospital stay livelier. 

'i guess we're even now,' soohyun says, quiet and mostly to herself. 

gaon thinks for a while. 'chief jo?' he guesses. soohyun had a girlish fascination with her mentor that in turn made the normally gruff man go tongue tied. 

'what -- no. jishin,' she says as if this explains anything. when gaon looks over at his wife sitting on the bed beside him, she looks guilty, sad, and relieved. the guilt is most prominent. 

'what --' says gaon, having to swallow because his mouth is suddenly dry. 'are you talking about?'

----

2. unnamed modern strangers in a bar au

the stranger backs gaon up until he hits the brick wall behind them, none too gently. but the man pays no attention to this. he looks at gaon with desire both ferocious and unyielding. 

'this husband of yours,' says the stranger angrily, sliding his hands into gaon's thick hair and keeping them there. 'you talk about him like he walks on water but he's only a man.'

'he's my world,' replies gaon breathlessly, eyes fixed on the man's mouth. then the stranger is kissing him. 

---

3. omega spin-off of enantiomers

gaon spins in yohan's arms so they're back to chest, before sensuously dragging himself down yohan's front until he's crouched at yohan's feet. yohan's hands tighten around his when gaon looks up at him from the floor, smilingly and with heat. 

'that look is why i put a baby inside you the first time around,' yohan says, stroking gaon's hands. there's a hint of warning to his tone. and desperation. he can't be held responsible for what he does if gaon keeps this up. 

gaon laughs delightedly.

of course, that's when the bedroom emits a wail that filters down the hallway and into the living room.

--

4. everything everywhere all at once

soohyun's eyebrows go up in shock. 'you still love him,' she says accusingly. 'not just that -- you want to go back to him. your parents died because of kang yohan!' she yells this last part, stomping her feet in enraged helplessness. 

'good people die without good reason,' gaon replies, feeling his cheeks redden.

she looks at gaon like he's grown another head. 'are you listening to yourself right now? you'll forgive kang yohan, and for what? he broke your heart. you were devastated for weeks!'

'i'm not selfless, soohyun-yah. not like you,' gaon replies, voice cracking. he searches for the words, pulling them from deep inside him. 'after appa died, i kept the restaurant open to prove that i could. helping people came after. but i can't do it anymore. i can't keep dragging on like everything is normal when seeing how fucked up everything is is destroying me.'

soohyun visibly swallows her words, letting gaon finish. 

'i hurt,' gaon whispers, 'all the time. i'm so angry. it's like looking into an abyss but now it looks back at me. being with yohan makes me feel safe, like i'll survive this. like there's more to living than just pain.'

soohyun hunches over at the knees and hugs herself. 'why does it have to be kang yohan?' she says miserably.

'i don't know.' gaon approaches, choreographing his intent. he pulls her into a hug when she doesn't resist. 'it's fucked up. i'm fucked up but i miss him terribly.'

'what if he breaks your heart again?' she sniffles against gaon's chest, voice going flat with inevitability. 

'he might,' gaon admits, squeezing her in final consolation. 'but i'll go my whole life regretting it if i don't try.'

--

5. elevator troubles

‘bujangnim?’ gaon asks, knocking on the heavy wooden door for appearance’s sake before striding in. but yohan’s not there.

the sound of his harsh breathing fills the office. he makes his way over to where late afternoon sunlights spills through the floor to ceiling windows and stares at the traffic twenty stories below, tiny trucks and tinier people. 

he's livid. if he could, he would shatter every single window of this ministry building with the frequency of his rage.

a hand slips over his eyes, cooling their heat and blocking his vision. a body follows behind. 

‘shhh,’ rumbles yohan in gaon’s ear, moulding himself around gaon, silken wool and heat and support everywhere. his other hand lands on gaon's chest, over gaon's fast beating heart. 

gaon’s only reaction is a hitch in his breathing. his muscles remain tightly coiled, his hands clenched in fists at his sides.

'he told me that my parents would be proud of me for doing the right thing,' gaon says with long pauses between into the red blackness. 'when he -- when he was the one who helped doh young choon --' he breaks off with a stifled sound, enraged.  

yohan's joyless chuckle rumbles through gaon's body. 'min jung ho is a viper.' his inflection doesn't change when gaon grabs his wrist. 'down to his venomous words.'

'what gives him the right,' gasps gaon, eyes turning wet with frustrated tears under yohan's palm. he presses back into yohan's body. 

'none,' says yohan simply. 'just as he has no right to dispense justice.'

'i want to hurt him, so, so badly,' gaon confesses, pulling yohan's hand away. 

‘we will,’ says yohan. 

future promises aren't enough. gaon whirls around. 'now, yohan.' he pushes the unresisting older man backwards until yohan's thighs hit the heavy oak table. 'i want to destroy him now.' 

---

6. my heart goes back to you, i just don't know

trigger warning, beware.

jung sunah pulls gaon’s face up with a fistful of silky, dark hair. gaon’s pupils are blown wide. yohan catches a peek of red tongue as gaon swallows, sweat beading along the younger man’s temple. yohan knows this expression from when he looked into the mirror all those weeks ago after jung sunah had ambushed him. 

she drugged gaon.

yohan watches with a foreboding feeling as jung sunah simply stares at gaon. the hunger on her face is…not good. she cocks her head, hand traveling to gaon’s panting mouth. yohan watches her fit two perfectly manicured fingers, nails painted rouge into the seam of gaon’s mouth; feels somehow worse when gaon doesn’t resist. 

‘he’s nothing! a means to an end,‘ barks yohan. he sounds affected because he is. he knows what’s happening here, what jung sunah is making him a bystander to.

she ignores this. ‘you know, i never liked giving blowjobs,’ she says conversationally. ‘they’re demeaning. the power differential is obvious. men enjoy it.’  she tilts gaon’s face up using the fingers in his mouth.

gaon pants heavily, eyelashes turning wet as he blinks slow and hard. ‘seeing kim pansanim on his knees makes me understand the appeal of it.’

‘is that why you brought him here?’ yohan asks, thinking quickly. ‘to get to me?’

‘you put your hand on his shoulder on live television,’ she replies in a faraway voice, but yohan can read her now.

--

tagging @technitango @tenderlywicked @rocknghorss @thedeviljudges @briwates @mid-n0vember @eyesof-kkomi feel free to pass ofc and if you are a writer who enjoys being tagged, lmk so i can include you in the future

[hopecomesbacktolife]

thinking about how in the phantom of the opera (the musical, not the book; it’s been… 10+? maybe even 15+? years since I’ve read it so I don’t still remember all the finer points of character nuances in the book lol) during the all I ask of you reprise, the phantom sings

“I gave you my music / made your song take wing / and now, how you’ve repaid me, denied me and betrayed me / he was bound to love you / when he heard you sing”

and specifically those last two parts— “he was bound to love you when he heard you sing” is so interesting to me like. sure he gets incredibly obsessive and weird TM about both of them as a couple / as an entity later on in the show, but during this part, he’s kind of positing Raoul as an afterthought, almost. he was bound to love you; it was inevitable, almost, everyone loves Christine’s singing; it’s the fact that Christine loves (or even just likes, at this point) Raoul back, that she reciprocates that feeling, that enrages the phantom.

I find this so fascinating because the whole plot is such a fantastic gothic story and a cursory glance might make you think Christine is written as the maiden archetype, almost helpless in the love triangle mess aspect of the plot. But I think it’s fascinating that the phantom here acknowledges that not only did Christine choose Raoul, and what’s more, choose him over the phantom, that is the part he finds as a betrayal. It’s not Raoul’s love that’s his issue; it’s that Christine wanted it, and gave it in return.

idk, it just… acknowledges her agency and autonomy in one succinct line really well, and kind of adds so much more depth to the whole second act’s drama than if she was just.. passively along for the ride? She chose Raoul, and she chose not to choose Erik.

obviously I’m not arguing that the phantom is like this great feminist revolutionary narrative or anything lol— that is kind of irrelevant, tbh, looking at the story within the context of it being a gothic novel (and for the show, a gothic novel source turned musical) and doesn’t fit well into the puzzle prices of that genre to utilize our modern ethics as an analytical tool. I’m just thinking of how fascinating it is that the controlling, obsessive, possessive, friendless, and egotistical self-loathing character of the phantom/Erik still acknowledges that it’s Christine’s choices which create the changes upon which the plot hinges. idk it’s just Cool TM :)

I also am writing this in between work stuff on a crazy busy work day so any misspeaks/misrememberings or errors are due to that lol

also aw man now I wanna go reread phantom again too :((

[starryevermore]

you’d come back to me ✧ anakin skywalker

angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)

request: You're Padmes little sister and some of the clones start to take a liking to you and this enrages anakin for some reason???? He realizes oh shit, I like padmes little sister not padme 🤯 - @captainsbestgal​

pairing: anakin skywalker x fem!naberrie!medic!reader

summary: anakin skywalker is in love with padmé amidala. he has been for years now. but, then why does her sister vex him so? surely he’s not pining after the wrong one… right? 

word count: 5,929

warnings?: anakin and padmé are not married, idiots in love, jealousy, mutual pining, not proofread

While you were grateful for the Naberrie family taking you in, considering you a daughter of their own while sharing no blood relation to them, in a lot of ways, you often felt like a complete outsider. You looked to your family and you felt your accomplishments paled in comparison—especially when one of your sisters was Padmé, the former Queen and now Senator for Naboo. You were accomplished, sure, in your own field. Not everyone was able to serve as a medic for the Grand Republic Army, and certainly not everyone got to serve as a medic for the 501st. But you weren’t so foolish to think that your name was one that would go down in history. You were not the kind of person that would be remembered for years after your death. You were not the type of woman who would leave behind some grand legacy. When people remembered your family, you might only be a footnote. And you had long since been content with that. 

You loved your work, after all. For as long as you could remember, you wanted to help people. You supposed part of that came from how the Naberrie family helped you. You remembered being scared, being helpless, and how they comforted you, made you feel at home, made you feel at peace. If you could offer that same sort of comfort to others, why shouldn’t you? 

But, with that being said, there were some moments in your line of work that made you want to smash your head into the wall. You loved the 501st, but you weren’t sure if it was just the nature of the boys or if it was something that Anakin, their General, encouraged, but it seemed like they just didn’t know how to stay out of trouble. So, when you saw that you were going to be dealing with a potentially concussed ARC Trooper first thing when you started your shift, you already knew that it was going to be a long day. 

Fives was laying on one of the beds, clutching his head, whining to Echo about how much his head hurt. Oh, of course it was Fives. Of all the clones in the 501st, he seemed to be the most keen on getting into trouble. Sometimes, you wondered if he found trouble just so that he would have an excuse to talk to you. And, it almost seemed like you were right, when you made your presence known. 

As you walked up to the bed, you greeted the clones. “Good morning, Fives, Echo. Heard someone got into a fight with a cliff and lost.”

“Doc! You’re here!” Fives said, giving you a dopey sort of look. You fought the urge to laugh, knowing that would only spur him on more. “Was thinkin’ you were standin’ me up!”

You looked to Echo, who was holding his brother down, stopping him from jumping out of the bed. “Just how hard did he hit his head?”

“Hard enough to know I’ve fallen for you,” Fives slurred. He tried to sit up again, but Echo pressed down on his chest, stopping the movement. 

Echo shook his head at his brother. “Fives forgot his jetpack, so General Skywalker used the Force, but he miscalculated how far to throw him.”

“Sounds like I’m going to have to have a talk with General Skywalker,” you said, a scowl forming on your face. “That’s not the first time he’s done this. I can’t keep letting him hurt my boys.”

“Hear that, Echo? I’m her boy!” Fives crowed. He pushed away his brother’s hands, sitting up, letting out a groan as he moved. But that didn’t stop him for reaching for your hands, tugging you close to him. It took you by surprise, so you didn’t have time to pull away, convince him to lie back down. “When we’re in Coruscant again, do you wanna go to 79’s with me? My treat?”

“I was speaking about all of your brothers, Fives. All of you are my boys,” you corrected. 

His shoulders deflated. “Oh.” But then, he perked back up, his eyes once more filled with joy. “Well, they’ll all be there, too! It’ll still be my treat and all but—” 

“Doc? Did Fives make it down here alright? I sent him this way the second we got back from the mission, but you know how he likes to wander off—” Anakin’s words died in his throat as he saw that Fives was holding onto your hands, looking at you like you hung all the stars in the sky. “Ah, well, seems like I had nothing to worry about.”

You dropped Fives’s hands, turning towards the General, your hands coming to rest on your hips. “You’re gonna have something to worry about if you don’t stop putting my boys in unnecessary danger. Isn’t it bad enough that they’re having to fight in a war? Do you really need to be using the Force to throw them against cliffs?”

Anakin’s face burned red. He looked away, avoiding your gaze. It was curious, the way the usually confident man could not look at you, much like he was a child being scolded. “That was an accident. And, besides, Fives is fine—”

“We don’t know that, yet. I haven’t started his examination. And, even if he is fine, that doesn’t mean he will be the next time, or whichever clone you decide to use as a crash test dummy. They’re people, Anakin. Treat them like it.”

Behind you, Fives leaned over to Echo, whisper-shouting, “Is it just me or does she get even hotter when she’s scolding people?”

“Shh, don’t make her scold us next!”

“Honestly, I wouldn’t mind if she did. She can talk to me anyway she wants and I’ll fu—”

“Fives!” you snapped, looking at him and shaking your head. His mouth immediately shut and he dragged his fingers across his lips, mimicking a zipping motion, punctuating his silent statement with a wink. Letting out a sigh, you turned back to Anakin. “Be more considerate to them, okay? I know tensions are always high on the battlefield, that you might not be able to think everything through fully, but please always try to keep their safety in mind when you’re about to do something reckless. Promise me that, Ani. They may be soldiers, but they’re people to. Their lives matter.”

Anakin stared at you, a strange look in his eyes. If you were paying close enough attention, you might have said it was the same look that Fives had in his eyes when he looked at you. But you weren’t paying that kind of attention, because you were waiting for his answer and not analyzing his micro-expressions. “I promise.”

“Good. Thank you. Now get outta here, I got a soldier to patch up.”

He gave a curt nod, turning to walk out of the medbay. For a moment, you felt bad, an odd sort of sinking feeling settling in your chest. Had you been a little too harsh? It wasn’t often that you were out there, in active combat. Kix, as a clone medic, was the one who was out there. He took care of all of that. So you didn’t have the best frame of reference of the stress that Anakin might be under out there. Still, though, he should know better. Of all people, you would think he would empathize most with the clones. 

But, as you turned back to your patient, Fives was grabbing at your hands again, looking at you like you were an angel that just dropped straight down from Heaven, as he asked, “So is that a yes? You’ll come to 79’s with me?”

You sighed, knowing he wouldn’t drop it. You knew how stubborn the man could be. If you kept avoiding the question, he would keep asking, stopping you from properly treating him. You couldn’t do your job unless you told him you would go. Besides, it might be fun. You deserved a break, too, didn’t you? “Sure, Fives. I’ll go.”

If you were looking his way, you would have noticed how Anakin paused in his step, the way his fists clenched at his side. But, you weren’t, so you didn’t know. 

Anakin had never felt this way before. So conflicted, so confused, so hurt. Why? Why did he feel this way? Was it you? No, it couldn’t be. You were doing your job. You were tending to a patient. He had seen you do the very same perhaps a thousand times before. There was nothing different about seeing you today. But then…Why did his heart stop when he saw Fives holding your hands? Why did his heart sink when you agreed to go to 79’s with Fives? Perhaps…No. No. That was impossible. 

His heart laid with Padmé, he was sure of it. Since the first time he saw her on Tatooine, he had dreamed of her face. She had always been so kind to him. As he trained at the Jedi Temple, he hoped that there might come a day when he would see her again. Years later, he did. And, oh, he felt just the same then as he did when he was a boy. She was his soulmate. She had to be. 

So why did it feel like his heart had been beating for you ever since you joined his battalion? 

His comm beeped, pulling him from his thoughts. It was Padmé. Ever since they had reunited a few years ago, they had been in semi-regular contact. It was difficult, of course, given him fighting in the war and her serving as Senator for Naboo. But they always found time for each other. Yet, for a fleeting moment, he considered ignoring her comm. 

He didn’t. He ducked into his room, making sure the door was locked, before answering. “Padmé,” he said. Usually, he felt lighter, happier, when he got to see her face. This time, he only felt a shroud of jealousy and insecurity cloaking him. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you.”

She smiled. Anakin always loved her smile. He thought it made her angelic appearance become even more heavenly. But now, he found himself comparing it to yours. They were both beautiful, to be sure. But Anakin found himself more drawn to your smile. Why? What had you done to vex him this way? 

“I heard you were going to be arriving on Coruscant soon,” she said.

Anakin nodded. The boys were well due for leave. They needed a break. Though, Anakin thought bitterly, they didn’t deserve a break if they were going to use it to attempt to charm you. To Padmé, he said, “We’ll be arriving within the day.”

“I wish I could see you,” she said. Her smile faded ever so slightly. “I have to go on a diplomatic mission in a few hours. If you would like, you can stay at my apartment. I might be back before you have to leave again.”

He shrugged. Normally, he would love the offer. It made him feel like she trusted him, like perhaps she liked him as much as he liked her. It felt different, this time. Like he would be committing some sort of betrayal. “I think I’ll stay at the Temple. I’m going to take a page out of Obi-Wan’s book and attempt to meditate.”

Padmé’s smile fully faded. She was always so good at reading him. Anakin often wondered if she was the slightest bit Force-sensitive. Or perhaps he was more of an open book than he realized. “Is something wrong? Is something troubling you?”

Anakin looked away. He wanted to say. If it was anyone else, Anakin would have no trouble telling Padmé. But it was you. Padmé’s sister. How awkward would that be? Not to mention, it could ruin anything that Anakin may have with her. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Do you know if your sister is seeing anyone?”

Padmé stared at him, her brows raised. Kriff. That hadn’t come out right, had it?

“I just mean, some of the boys were…I don’t know. I don’t know if I’m reading too much into things, but it felt like one of them might be interested with her.” 

She still stared. Did he need to elaborate more? 

“I just was thinking that, if she was seeing one of them, I should probably have a talk with the trooper. You know, make sure they know they can’t use her or break her heart or anything like that. She doesn’t deserve that. She’s too good to be treated like that.”

Padmé hummed but said nothing. Anakin almost felt like a child again, when he had done something his mother explicitly told him not to do. He would try to hide the evidence, try to fabricate some story to explain the mess he had made. But his mother always knew. She always saw right through him. Padmé, Anakin mused, was a lot like his mother in that way. But he was grown now, and he knew that he couldn’t keep babbling on about a story that they both knew to be false. He had to pivot, had to redirect. Maybe then, the heat would be off him. 

Anakin looked away, then back again. He asked, “Do you know? If she’s seeing anyone?”

“As far as I am aware, no, she’s not,” Padmé said. Anakin knew Padmé well enough to know that there was more she wanted to say, and she was never the kind of person to hold her tongue. “You don’t have to lie to me, Ani. If there’s something more there, something beyond concern for her heart, you can tell me.”

“There’s—” The words couldn’t form. Anakin wanted to deny Padmé’s accusation. (Right?) But the words soured on his tongue. It felt wrong, to say there was nothing there. To be sure, Anakin wasn’t sure what was there. But to say there was nothing would be untrue. He couldn’t lie to Padmé. Instead, he said, “She only deserves the best.”

Padmé smiled at Anakin like she knew something he didn’t. “You are one of my closest friends, Ani. If there was anyone who I could trust with my sister’s heart, it would be you. If you choose to follow her, you would have my full support.”

She was gone before Anakin could even think of a protest. 

Dread settled in the pit of Anakin’s stomach as they arrived on Coruscant. The 501st, previously wore out from the stress of battle, had been rejuvenated at the prospect of well-deserved leisure, pleasure. When he passed some of the troopers, Anakin feigned excitement for them, though he felt anything but. All he could think of was Padmé’s words, of you agreeing to go to 79’s with Fives, of how he couldn’t figure out what this emotion was he was feeling every time he thought of your face. 

But rather than returning to the Jedi Temple, as he told Padmé he would do, he found himself lingering, waiting to see you. Perhaps he could convince you not to go. Perhaps he could make up some task that you need to complete immediately, something that would prevent you from going out to 79’s. Would that be cruel of him? Sure. But was it not more cruel to let your heart be broken by someone you might one day lose to this war?

Anakin wandered the halls, trying to figure out what he should do. He tried to think about what Obi-Wan would say. He was sure his Master would talk about how the Jedi Code does not allow attachments, that Anakin should leave you be and let you do what you please. That Anakin should return to the Temple, that he should meditate, that he should remember that pursuing you would be allowed so long as he remained a Jedi. (What was the point, then, of being a Jedi if Anakin would be denied your love?) 

Finally, Anakin decided he would leave you be. This was a fluke, he decided. The result of being away from Padmé for so long, of you being the closest thing he had to her on a day-to-day basis. There was no reason to bother you about this.

But, as he turned to return to the Temple, or perhaps to go to Padmé’s apartment, he saw you walking down the hall, the click-clack of your heels on the tile signaling him toward your presence. Against his better judgment, the judgment that told him he should try to place some distance between you and him, Anakin turned toward you. 

Kriff. 

He shouldn’t have done that. 

You wore a dark, shimmery dress that left little to the imagination. The dress had a plunging neckline, directing Anakin’s gaze down to your cleavage. He swallowed hard, tried to look again, tried to show you basic respect. But as he looked away, his gaze trailed down your legs. Maker, had you always been so beautiful? Had you always looked like a goddess among men? 

“Anakin!” you greeted. You smiled at him. He found it hard to look away from your painted lips. (What would it look like if it was smudged? What if he was the one to smudge it?) “I thought you would have left my now.”

He raised a brow. “Trying to get rid of me, Doc?”

Your eyes widened. “What? No! I-I just, you know…You have important Jedi duties. I-I thought you’d be back at the Temple already.”

He did. He really should have left a long time ago. Undoubtedly, the Council would have some sort of assignment for him to do while he was back on Coruscant. There was no benefit to remaining here. Except, of course, to see you, but you didn’t need to know that. 

“Are you on your way to the boys’ barracks?” he asked. He couldn’t find a way to explain himself, so redirecting the conversation was the way to go. 

“I—yes. How did you know?“

“I heard you tell Fives you’d go to 79’s with him,” Anakin said. He extended his arm for you to take. “C’mon. I’ll walk you over there, make sure you’re in safe hands.”

Though, he didn’t know if he should classify his hands as safe. Nevertheless, you held onto his bicep as you and him walked down the hall to the troopers’ barracks. It was quiet, the walk was. Anakin wasn’t sure if he liked that. He preferred listening to you talk. 

“You should come with us,” you said as you approached the barracks. “I-I don’t know if there’s some Jedi ban on going to bars—”

Anakin barked out a laugh. “—we’re allowed to have fun, Doc! It’s not all meditation and contemplation and boring things.”

“—I didn’t know! You all are so unlike everyone else. I didn’t want to make you feel pressured to break your Code!” you defended. You looked away. Anakin could feel your anxiety. He almost felt bad, laughing at you like that. “Anyways, I just wanted to say you should join us. If you’d like to, I mean. I-I know this war hasn’t been easy on anyone, and you deserve to have some fun as much as the boys.”

“Oh, I shouldn’—”

The Force did not seem to be with him. Just as Anakin was going to politely turn you down, they reached the barracks, the clones already barreling out, seemingly in search of you. Anakin’s words died in his throat as you were ripped away from him, Hardcase pulling you into a hug. Anakin’s jaw clenched. He didn’t like it, seeing another man touch you. But what could he do? He didn’t like you like that. If you were Padmé, it would have been different. Anakin would have had no problem making it clear that that sort of thing wasn’t going to happen. But you weren’t Padmé, so no matter what he felt, he had no right to step in on your fun.

“Move out of the way, she’s only going because I asked her—” Fives said, stealing you away from Hardcase. Anakin’s fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. “—which means she’s my date!”

“Oh, stop, I’m no one’s date!” you laughed. 

Fives pulled away, gasping, his hand on his chest, right over his heart. He turned to Echo, throwing his arms around his brother, dramatically crying on his shoulder.

Anakin thought the display was over and was ready to leave, sure that you were in safe hands, when he saw Rex approach you. 

The blond clone threw his arms around you, squeezing you tight, lifting you off the ground. “Can’t believe Fives finally wore you down, cyar’ika,” he said. He pressed a kiss to the side of your head. Anakin tried to stamp down the ugly green feeling washing over him. “Glad he did, though. I’ve been—We’ve all been looking forward to more time with you.”

Et tu, Rex? Of all the clones, Anakin would have thought that the Captain would have some restraint. But even the usually reserved man—at least, in comparison to his brothers—fell victim to your charms. If you could break down even Rex, were you really in safe hands? 

Jesse was the first of the clones to notice that Anakin was there. He titled his head, brows furrowed together, and asked, “General? What are you doing here? Did you have a job for us?”

“Oh, he was just walking me over!” you said. You turned around to Anakin, smiling. Maker, did you have to have such a beautiful smile? “I was just asking if he wanted to come along with us.” Your smile dropped slightly as you looked back at the boys. “If that’s alright with you guys, of course, too. I don’t want any toes to be stepped on.”

“Don’t dance with Fives, then,” Echo said. 

“Hey!”

“You don’t have to worry about stepping on toes,” Rex told you. “I think I speak for everyone when I say that General Skywalker can join us if he likes.” Rex glanced at Anakin. “No pressure, sir.”

Before Anakin could try to sort through whether he wanted to go or not, Jesse had slung an arm around your shoulders, tugging you close into his side. His head dipped, asking, “How’re you still single, mesh’la? With as sweet as you are, anyone here would be more than happy to make you theirs.”

You caught Anakin’s eyes. There was something…sad in your gaze. Anakin felt the need to reach out, to comfort you. But you were already looking away, looking back at Jesse. “I could never be with the one I care for. I could never ask him to betray his duties.”

Right. Of course. You could never ask one of the clones to betray the Republic. The clones had a duty to fight in this war. To do anything else, to contemplate a life outside of the war, would be treasonous. The clone would likely be decommissioned, you would likely be thrown in jail, if such a relationship ever was to become known. You were too good of a person to ever consider pursuing such a relationship. 

Fives threw his arm around your shoulders, knocking Jesse’s off. Jesse glared at his brother, but Fives ignored him. “Oh, c’mon, you’re worth more than duty and responsibility. If you asked, any one of us would leave all this behind.”

Anakin would, too. It was interesting. He hadn’t really ever wanted to leave the Order for Padmé. With her, he always thought he’d try to make it work. Try to be a Jedi and be a husband and not allow the two to become too overlapped. But with you…He found himself willing to throw it all away. 

Fives cast Anakin a look, his face paling, as if he just remembered he was in the presence of a superior officer. “Hypothetically, sir.”

Anakin looked to you, the way you chewed on your lip as you stared back at him. “Hypothetically,” Anakin said, “I would say you’re special enough that even a Jedi would be willing to break the Code.”

Your mouth fell open into a perfect “O”. Anakin pushed away the thought of what it might feel like to kiss you, to slip his tongue into your mouth, to hold you close, and—No. Stop that. 

“I do need to return to the Temple, though,” Anakin said. “Have fun, and stay out of trouble, Doc.”

“She’ll be in good hands, sir,” Rex said. 

Anakin wasn’t sure if there were any good hands you could be in besides his, but he held his tongue. He offered you a tight smile before turning to leave. He ignored the wave of sadness that washed over you. He couldn’t comfort you. It was not his right, and he didn’t want to give you the wrong impression. Besides, he was tired. He needed to get to bed. 

He didn’t sleep that night. 

Anakin Skywalker was avoiding you, and you couldn’t figure out why. Ever since that night you went to 79’s with the boys, he had made clear and purposeful attempts to stay as far away from you as he could manage. You couldn’t deny how much that hurt you. You thought…Well, when you saw him that night, for a fleeting moment, you thought he might like you.

It was a ridiculous thought, to be sure. Jedi didn’t do attachments. What greater attachment was there than being a relationship with somebody? Even if Anakin said that you were the kind of woman a Jedi would break the Code for, that didn’t mean he liked you enough to break the Code. It didn’t mean he was speaking of his personal feelings for you. It could have meant anything. It could have meant nothing. For all you knew, he could have been trying to assure Fives that he hadn’t spoken out of turn, not conveying a secret message to you. 

But then, why would he not look at you? Why would he not talk to you? Why did he send Rex and Jesse to tell you that you’d be joining them on the battlefield instead of telling you himself? He always liked talking to you before, always found a reason to see you. After all, did he really need to come to the medbay and check in on every injured trooper when he knew you were perfectly capable of healing them? Did he need offer to escort you when the opportunity presented itself? Did he need to make you feel so special and so ordinary all at the same time? 

Worse, when you tried to talk to Padmé about it, all she said was to let Anakin be for the time being. That he was sorting through something and that he needed space. Which would have been fine, if it wasn’t for the way Padmé looked like she knew something you didn’t. Maker, why couldn’t she just tell you? Why did she choose now to be cryptic and vague? Sure, Anakin was one of her closest friends, but you were her sister! Did that mean nothing? 

You were pulled from your thoughts as you watched a trooper fall. You ran to him, firing a few shots at droids who stood in your way. When you reached the soldier, you fell to your knees, searching for the wound. 

“We gotta stop meeting like this, Doc,” he mumbled. 

You paused for a moment, examining the armor of the trooper. Oh, of course. Of course it would have to be Fives. How he managed to become an ARC Trooper when he always stumbled head first into danger, you would never understand. 

“Well, that would mean you would have to stop having two left feet and falling straight into the line of fire,” you said, finally finding the blaster wound. With one hand, you began to apply pressure, using your free hand to open your medkit, searching for what you needed. “Your brothers should have called you Lefty instead of Fives. Would’ve been far more appropriate.”

“You have terrible bedside manner. You wound me,” Fives said. 

“No, that was the droid.”

Fives huffed out a laugh, then groaned, clutching at his ribs. “Kriff, don’t make me laugh, mesh’la.”

You hummed. You just finished patching the blaster wound, so you turned to the ribs. They didn’t appear to be broken, which was good. You didn’t have the time nor the supplies to be setting broken bones. “Looks like you bruised your ribs. I don’t got anything to treat that, but Kix should. I’ll send him over, okay? Just sit tight.”

“Am I gonna live, Doc?”

“You’d better,” you said. You leaned down, pressed a kiss to his helmet. “You’re my best friend, Fives. Who else is gonna annoy me if I lose you?”

“Echo’d do a pretty good job at it, I think.”

“Wouldn’t be the same. I’m gonna get Kix now. Don’t do anything stupid.”

As you rose back to your feet, you looked around, trying to mind the clone medic. As you searched across the battlefield, you found Anakin first. There was something beautiful in the way he fought, you realized. You shook your head. You needed to focus. You didn’t need to ogle over the General—especially not in the middle of the battle. 

But, Maker, it was so hard to find Kix. Couldn’t they have have given him a bigger symbol than the little one they put on his arm? With everyone moving around, it was hard to tell who was who. All of the paint on their armor was beginning to look the same. Couldn’t they have painted a big red symbol of Kix’s back or something? (Of course, that would make him a bigger target to the enemies. If he was easier to see, he was easier to kill. And if the medic went down…Well, it was easier to take out a battalion. But never mind that! You needed to find him for Fives, and it was impossibly difficult in these circumstances.)

“Doc, get down—”

There wasn’t enough time to react. By the time you saw the blaster being fired your way, you couldn’t have gotten down. It struck you in the side, right where you didn’t have any armor to protect you. You heard a scream—was it yours? Maybe Fives was screaming. It wasn’t a non-possibility.

You fell with a thump! as your head hit the ground and it all went black. 

When you opened your eyes again, you were under the bright, fluorescent lights of the medbay. Somewhere, there was shouting. Who was shouting? Couldn’t they step out into the hall? It was hardly good for the patients if someone was yelling. Healing required rest, and it was difficult to rest when someone couldn’t shut up for five minutes. 

You tried to sit up, groaning as you did, to tell the person off. Instantly, the shouting ceased. Kix was on one side of you, Anakin on the other. At the foot of the bed you lied in stood Fives, who looked like he just got the scolding of a lifetime. You looked at Kix, who seemed just as sheepish, then at Anakin. You could practically feel the anger rolling off hm. 

Perhaps you should have held your tongue, but you had gone over medbay etiquette with him a thousand times. For him to disregard it the second you were out? It felt disrespectful. You said, “You know you shouldn’t shout in the medbay.”

Anakin ground his teeth together. “And you know you should be mindful of what’s going on on the battlefield.”

Your brows furrowed together. “I was.”

“Oh? And that’s why you're here now? Because you were so mindful?”

“People get injured out there all the time. I wouldn't have a job here if they didn’t. Things happen, Ani. I’m fine.” You paused, then looked to Kix. “I am fine, right?”

“As fine as you can be given the circumstances,” he said. “Should be up and running by morning.” He glanced at Anakin then back to you. “Assuming that you’re allowed to rest instead of being chastised.”

“Watch it,” Anakin snarled. 

You sat up more, another groan escaping. Kix was quick to help you find a more comfortable position. Once settled, you said, “Don’t yell at him for something I did. And, kriff, don’t yell at me for trying to my job!”

“Oh, so your job is to just stand there, out in the open, unprotected!?” Anakin snapped. 

“I was trying to find Kix—”

“So you just stood there?! To find someone, you use your eyes! You don’t just become a karking target!”

“Kind of hard to find the other medic when he’s wearing the same armor as everyone else—”

“That’s why he has a medic symbol! It’s bright kriffing red! How the kark could you miss it?!”

Kix stepped in, raising his hands slightly, as if ready to push Anakin away if he got too angry. Anakin snarled at the medic. You were almost certain they were about to fight over your bed when—

“Sir, if I may—” Fives cleared his throat. “—it’s probably best that you go. Let the Doc heal before you reprimand her.”

Anakin turned on the ARC Trooper, his eyes flashing with…something. “Right, because you care so much about her—”

“I’m the one who helped her after she was shot, sir.”

“And you’re the reason she’s injured! If you hadn’t—”

“Get out.”

Anakin’s head whipped back around toward you. His gaze softened ever so slightly. “What?”

“I don’t want you here right now, and protocol is that the patient can have anyone be ordered to leave their room while they’re healing, even if that person is their superior officer. So, go. Come back when you’ve cooled down and we can talk about what happened. But you have no right to come in here and yell at me like I’m so petulant child when all I did was my job. I might have made a mistake, sure, but you can’t tell me that you’ve never made a mistake out there.”

Anakin stared for a moment, two, before saying in a softer voice, “I was worried about you. I care about you.”

“How much could you care when you’ve ignored me for weeks?”

Anakin blinked, slowly, then nodded. He turned to leave without another word. But, as he reached the door, Anakin turned back to you. He was too far away for you to read his expression. But there was something in the way he held himself, the way his shoulders slumped, the way he couldn’t quite stand still, that told you he was carrying a heavy burden on his shoulders. What was it? Could you do anything to help ease it? 

“I don’t like it when you’re out there, Doc,” he said. “I don’t know if it’ll be the last time I see you. I don’t know if you’ll come back to me. You’re not trained for battle. Anything could happen.”

“There’s more important things to be worried about than a single medic,” you said. 

“Not to me.” Anakin looked away, then back again. “I meant what I said the other day. You’re more special than you think.”

What he said? Was he talking about that night you went to 79’s? That was the last time you’d really spoken to him until now. But what had he said? Maker, you wished your head didn’t hurt. You wished Anakin wouldn’t speak in riddles. Oh! Wait, had it been something about leaving the Order? But, why would he…

Oh. 

Oh.

“I could never ask that of you, Ani,” you said, “no matter how much I would like to.”

“You don’t have to ask. I would do it anyways.”

And maybe the worst part was, you knew he was telling you the truth. 

[alicewritingstories]

Febuwhump Day 11: Time loop

CW: Fatal injuries, blood, mention of torture

Continued from Day 8.

AO3

---

Time set out an hour after his conversation with Four. He'd wanted to go sooner, but Sky had dropped into another fit of terrified screams and struggles. Despite his weakened state, he'd broken Hyrule's nose and bitten Wind's hand hard enough to break a bone before he collapsed again. Time hoped desperately that when - when - he recovered he would remember nothing and his injured brothers would indeed forgive him.

Once that was resolved, Time took Warriors and Twilight aside and told them, "Four has given me an idea for something that might help. I'm going to go back to that dungeon."

"I'm coming with you," said Twilight immediately.

"You're not," said Time. "I'm going back alone and I'm going to confront that mage, but I don't know whether my idea will work if anyone is with me. It's not worth the risk."

Warriors nodded. "Can you tell us what the plan is?"

Time shook his head. "This is all I'll say: I should be back in a couple of hours. If I'm not back after three, I'm leaving you two in charge. Do what seems best."

They'd come looking for him, he knew that, but he'd leave it to them to make their own plans as to how and when. He clasped each of their shoulders and added, "Take care of the others. And keep a good eye on Sky. I hope before long you'll see an improvement."

Twilight frowned and grabbed Time's wrist as he started to step away. "Old man… you're not going to do anything stupid, are you? Like sacrifice yourself in his place?"

Time shook his head. "That's certainly not what I'm planning to do."

Warriors smiled wryly. "I don't like the way you emphasized that," he said. "But all right, keep your secrets. We'll give you three hours."

Twilight was still gripping Time's wrist, but as Time met his eye he slowly relaxed and stepped back. "Be careful," he said softly.

Time nodded. "I will," he said firmly. He shot a last glance towards where Sky lay, Wild at his side now, his eyes still open and blank. Then he turned and walked away, heading back towards the dungeon where all this had happened. He didn't know if this would work. He didn't even know if the mage would have returned to their previous haunts having driven off the intruders. He just had to try.

***

He reached the dungeon after a walk of an hour and four minutes. It had taken two and a half hours to cover the same distance with a helpless, delirious Sky, but he couldn't think about that now. The door by which they'd fled was still open, almost inviting them to return, and Time could feel the same dark aura as when they'd been there before. He let out a disgusted hiss of breath through his teeth, then took out the Ocarina of Time, clenching his fist around it. It always felt cold in his hand. He had promised himself he would never use it again.

He especially didn't want to do what he was about to try.

But he knew how awful a time loop could be. Hopefully the mage would feel the same way.

Before the memories could start to gather in earnest, he marched through the door.

"Where are you?" he demanded.

He heard someone laugh. An echo of the sound rattled around the stone room, warping and twisting into a sound like Sky's sobs.

"Show yourself!" he called. His voice didn't echo at all.

The texture of the air changed and a figure appeared in front of him, quite clear though it seemed to be made out of gray smoke. The mage smiled.

"I wondered when one of you would come back," he said. "If you're here to apologize for invading my home and beg me to release that one I cursed, get on your knees and do so. I'll listen and judge if it's to my satisfaction." He grinned. "I am enjoying myself, though, so I may ask a price. It struggles so deli-"

"I'm not here to beg for anything," Time interrupted, forcing himself to ease his enraged grip on the Ocarina. Now would be a very bad time to find out if it could break. "I can trap you as surely as you've trapped my friend and I've come to demand his release."

The mage laughed again. "Oh, how wonderful! You might even be more fun, if you'd care to offer an exchange."

As Time had told Twilight, that was not the plan. With a deep breath, he tried to ignore the ticking noise that was starting to ring softly in his ears and raised the Ocarina, playing that familiar handful of notes. The world reversed around him, the mage disappearing before his eyes, and he was whisked back to the doorway.

He walked in again.

The mage appeared, this time without laughing. He looked quizzical.

"What was that?" he asked.

"How I'm going to trap you until you release my friend." Time smiled grimly. "We're going to replay this meeting and this conversation over and over again as many times as it takes for you to release my friend."

The mage snarled. "It's mine for as long as I want to hold it!"

Time played the Song of Time again. He was pulled back to the doorway and walked in again.

"Release my friend," he said as soon as the mage appeared.

The mage hurled a bolt of something that crackled like lightning and shone like steel. It caught Time in the chest and pinned him to the wall, his vision whiting out for a moment in agony. He heard himself let out a groaning cry as if from a distance. But he retained enough strength and presence of mind to raise the Ocarina to his lips and play.

He was back at the doorway. He walked in again.

"Release my friend."

It went on and on. The mage raged and cursed. He hurled magic and stones and weapons at Time. The mouthpiece of the Ocarina was covered in blood and blood bubbled at the finger-holes as Time played it over and over again through mortal injuries.

He lost track of how many times he'd been through the loop.

He lost track of how many times he'd used his final breath to play the Song of Time.

He just kept count of the minutes and seconds that passed every time. How far he had to go back to stand at that doorway and walk through it again.

"Release my friend." His voice was hoarse. He'd repeated the words so many times they sounded like meaningless noise in his ears, but he forced them out anyway.

The mage also looked exhausted, glaring at him from eyes that now glowed red in his gray face. Suddenly he grinned. He snapped his fingers, then started to cast another spell. Time recognised it as the one he'd cast on Sky.

He'd released him and was about to curse Time instead.

The plan wasn't to offer a trade. Though he knew reversing time would also undo the removal of the curse, Time's hands flashed up again. Again he was at the door. Again he walked in.

"No trades!" he roared. "Release my friend!"

The mage tried the same thing twice more. He tried releasing Sky and then killing Time. Time reset the loop over and over again. His vision was blurring. The ticking in his ears was getting worse. He could almost see the grinning face of the moon on the ceiling of the dungeon.

He played the Song of Time again.

And again.

And again.

At last, he and the mage were staring at each other in silence once more. The red of the mage's eyes had faded again. He looked like smoke now, insubstantial. Time wondered if he could waft him away with a hand.

"My friend," he said softly, hoping it wasn't obvious that his head was pounding and he felt like he was about to faint. "Release him and go."

The mage lifted a lip in a snarl.

"And if I return to my camp and find that you've tried to trick me, I can put myself and you back to the beginning of this loop," Time added. "This will go on for eternity if you do not release him."

"I release… your friend and in exchange you end the loop and free me," said the mage reluctantly.

"Yes. So you see, we made a trade after all. Him for you."

The mage snorted. "Done," he said. He snapped his fingers, then disappeared. The dark aura faded. Time was standing alone in an empty stone room. He turned and staggered to the doorway, gasping in the clean, cool air outside, suddenly terribly dizzy. It was starting to rain.

In a moment's cold clarity, as he looked down at his fingers clutched around the Ocarina, the time added up in his head.

Five minutes as far as the rest of the world was concerned.

Four days, eight hours, seven minutes, and fifty-three seconds for him.

With that thought, he finally collapsed.

---

(No points for guessing my favourite scene in Doctor Strange)

Continued on Day 18

[baby-yaga]

i totally get why art that seems "shock for shock-sake" is a turn off for some people. it honestly wasnt until earlier this year, after i remembered some really fucked up shit that happened to me, that i realized why i am so drawn to that kind of thing.

making a work that is shocking to be shocking isnt easy--decent writing, composition, themes, those all still apply. and then, theres the added challenge of writing about topics that are ~controversial~

i think the immediate thing that comes to mind is rape revenge, one of my favorite horror subgenres. one of my favorite rape revenge movies is i spit on your grave, the 2010 remake of the 1978 film. the original is, by todays standards, much more tame. the attack is far less brutal, the murders are less graphic, even the scenery [ connecticut in spring, as opposed to the remakes setting of louisiana in fall ] is much more green and vibrant, and more pleasant to look at in my opinion. i think both of these films have a reputation for being shlock--exploitative, misogynistic, torture-porn. and i dont even think they arent those things [ and the victim being a rich white woman, her attackers impoverished white men. these films are very classist in my opinion ].

rape revenge is a very controversial genre, made even more so by the fact that many of the most well known films are written and directed by men [ i spit on your grave, the original and its remake, same of the last house of the left and its remake, in fact female writers and directors are relatively new to this subgenre ]

if id been asked earlier this year, "what is it about this genre that you find so compelling?" i wouldve struggled to answer. i think the best i couldve come up with is something like, "catharsis." and i do find these films cathartic. they are tense and brutal, and at the end, when the bad guys have died their grotesque deaths, unable to harm anyone anymore, i breathe a sigh of relief. but the truth is, i like that they make people uncomfortable.

to me, these pieces of work existing, even though i havent made any of these works myself, are my own revenge. i want people to watch them, and i do get offended when someone finds them morally wrong. in the evilest parts of my soul i want to force people to watch these devastating, "pointless", "shocking-for-shocks-sake" films and feel even a fraction of what i do. for even a moment, feel as helpless, trapped, terrified, hurt, disoriented, enraged, and humiliated as i do. yes, i want people to be shocked. i want them to be shocked because i want them to feel it. i want their hearts and minds, souls and bodies to be as tainted as mine, even if its just a little bit. i want people to be as traumatized as i am.

i understand this isnt rational. for one thing, i am far from the only rape victim in the world. im not even the only childhood rape victim in the world. im not even the only victim of csam/sex trafficking victim in the world. im not the only person whos family had a "weird uncle", that everyone, even his victims, refused to acknowledge what he was. im not the only victim of sexual harassment and stalking. im just one of perhaps millions, a victim of all of those things. there are perhaps thousands of people with a history nearly identical to mine. but i dont care. i want them to hurt too.

art is supposed to make you feel something. its often said that art is a conversation between you and the artist. how do you feel when the artist wants to abuse you? how do you feel when the artist, knowing nothing of your own history, shows you the ugliest, most rancid, most infected parts of themselves, and they ask you to look?

look at me. look at what i am missing. look at how i am mangled. look at how i am ugly. i am not a palatable victim. i wasnt saved from abuse. the fbi never broke in while i was being photographed or molested and saved me from my fate. the worst happened. and it happened again, and again, and again and no one noticed, and no one saved me. i didnt even save myself. i didnt move away from it all, abandon everyone id ever known, and change my identity like i desperately wanted when i was a teenager. im broke, and i still live within a 1 mile radius of where all the worst things in my life happened to me. i live just 2 blocks away from where i was trafficked and used to make csam. i live just 2 houses down from where i was groomed and repeatedly raped by my best friends dad. im not there anymore, in the sense that years have passed, and i am an adult now. but i still live here, still see his house every day, still see the tree in front of the house where i was nearly drowned to keep me quiet and afraid.

yeah, i want the art i make to shock you. i dont think i have anything else to say.

[fatuismooches]

I've hopped on major angst train, which is sad, but someone has to make yall sad after tooth-rotting fluff, hehe hehe, but I saw HC of some harbingers reacting to their s/o being executed by Raiden and it gave me an idea

Basically, imagine Harbingers causing their s/o's near death experience with their actions

Such as: Childe's s/o almost dying when Osial attacked Liyue. Look, he was sure you're in safety, but in reality? You're too much of a kind soul, so you were helping people to save themselves, while also putting yourself in danger. Maybe you almost drowned from Osial's attacks or got caught in crossfire, either way you almost died

Scara's s/o being targeted by Fatui after Scara himself ran away with Gnosis. No matter how hard he tries to hide then away, Fatui never forget and forgive traitors. They won't calm down until they get both of you. You might be strong, maybe even a vision holder, but it's not enough...

Or his s/o being a Harbinger and the one who dies in Tenshukakku. Imagine him interrupting your duel with Traveler and escaping together. Scara curses you for being an idiot, but he's actually so so happy he made it in time.

Or... If he was a few seconds late and arrived to witness your death. I imagine that after he erased himself from Irminsul and regained his memories, the first thing Scara did - checked what happened to you, but reader is still dead

WTF ANON I'M IN TEARS 😭😭 Childe would be the most hurt definitely. He was reluctant to awaken Osial in the first place because getting regular people involved wasn't his style. So when he sees you hurt because of his actions he can't help but feel terrible. After helping you recover with the best of doctors he may even try to leave you. Not because he doesn't love you but because he genuinely can't bear to see you hurt, especially because of his line of work. He can't quit the Fatui, but he can still protect you... just in the shadows this time :(

Well for Scara... man that'd be scary lol. To be on the run for that long. He hopes that when he becomes a God, the Fatui will no longer be able to threaten you since one does not dare to challenge a God. But you get hurt anyway :( And he's absolutely enraged of course and wishes he could leave the robot to kill the person himself. But this just encourages him to hurry up and ascend to godhood already. Though when that fails he can't help but feel a bit helpless. Since now you are the one taking care of him, but at least Nahida has taken you under her protection as well. After he erases himself from Irminsul though, hopefully things change and the Fatui are no longer after you, since he no longer exists. And that is a price he is willing to pay for your safety.

Oh boy. He'd tell you to not go near the Raiden Shogun under any circumstances but you were dragged into it anyway. When he can't find you at the agreed meeting place he instantly knows where you've gone and for once he feels panic. This Raiden Shogun was not Ei, she has no mercy. But he has no problem confronting her anyway. Seeing the Traveler's shocked but irritated expression was also a treat. I wonder if the Raiden Shogun (puppet) would recognize him? I'm not sure if it was stated in-game. (Can't believe it's been 2 years since Inazuma 😭)

Scara would wonder if the Gnosis was really worth your death (it wasn't he finds out very quickly) + despise his creator so much more than he already did. He can only hope that he'll meet you again one day, and that you'd forgive him for his idiocy.

Can't wait to add Arlecchino to this list😧🧍‍♀️Focalors doesn't seem like the Archon to play around tbh😭 I've been really thinking about why the Oceanids don't like her...

[rosyrosethorns]

part 3

୨ ——- ♡ ——- ୧

“A witch… But a weak one nonetheless~”

From the way the ghost of Frollo loomed over Madi’s collapsed form, darkness in his eyes and a coy smirk on his face, the girl understood in that moment how so many people could have feared him in his life… There was a twinge of helplessness there; enough for her to grasp it as the memory of the timid bellringer she just met crossed her mind…

He was prepared to use the candle stand to strike her down. Despite how her body ached, she knew she had to act quickly.

“… I told you…” The ballerina waved her hand… “I’m not a witch…!”

Candles flew onto the ghost’s back; the flames leaving burns on his translucent body as his eyes widened and a groan of pain escaped his throat. Despite it not being enough to disarm him, it was still enough to delay his actions and give the girl time to stumble back onto her feet.

Frollo glared up at her as he took a moment to recover from the pain those burns caused him. “You expect me to believe such a statement… after you so blatantly mocked His will, used witchcraft against me… and even clad yourself in something so… primal??”

Both duelists were affected by their physical injuries to the point of inaccuracy. The malicious spirit swung the candle stand once again, yet a delay and slight miscalculation resulted in a sore Madi just barely evading his attack. “What? Ballet’s not primal!” the girl huffed.

“It’s all those feathers!… You resemble one of those wild men from faraway lands!” The ghost swung, yet missed again.

“I… Okay, you know what, I don’t—“ The ballerina was interrupted by another swing as she hastily ducked out of the way. “I don’t wanna argue anymore; I just… wanna deal with you quickly.”

Frollo swung twice in a second’s span of time; catching Madi off guard as the second swing whacked her on the head. With a yelp and a whimper, the poor girl held her aching head as she found herself more vulnerable now.

“The feeling is mutual,” the ghost replied with a sneer, “my little heretic witch~”

He raised the candle stand above his head as he prepared to deal a fatal blow… but a strange sound caused him to freeze as he dropped the makeshift weapon.

No—Not just a sound, but a musical tune. Music emitting from a flute. And Frollo found himself unable to control his spectral body as he spun across the cathedral floor.

Madi looked up with teary relieved eyes. Her lover, the Pied Piper, had made his way into the church—and he looked most displeased with the spirit as he played his flute.

“No…! No! More witchcraft!!” Frollo cried in disbelief as he found himself helpless in the Piper’s trance. “More heresy!! You’re all villains!!”

But what really upset the ghost was seeing Quasimodo and Phoebus following the mute Piper from a distance… Two of three people who he held the strongest grudges towards—now watching him dance in the Piper’s hands like a puppet. Despite how he turned his head and let out an enraged yell, there was nothing he could do to resist the flute’s power.

“At this point, this feels like a matter of perspective,” he heard the ballerina grumble before he turned back to her. Her outfit had changed color as she recovered from the blow to the head… What used to be white with a pink rose was now black with a red rose.

“And your perspective,” the girl continued as she opened the brooch, “is two-dimensional as fuck.”

A little jar materialized in her hand before she held it up, reciting these words: “I curse you to be condemned to this jar for the rest of your afterlife… Only when you come to peace with yourself and everyone else will your soul be free again!”

Frollo’s face paled. The moment the Piper stopped playing the ghost tried to move, but he was too physically exhausted to act fast enough before he was pulled into the jar; clawing at the air and hollering in the last second everyone saw him…

A cork was shoved into the jar, which was now emitting the same blue glow that the ghost had around himself as a light rapidly flickered inside. Madi’s outfit reverted back to its original white color as relief made her finally unravel, tears streaming down her face as she approached her boyfriend with a whimper.

“Darling,” she whined pitifully as she tightly hugged the mute Piper… “He hit me on the head…”

Her lover wrapped his arms around her, rubbing her head in silent reassurance with a sympathetic expression on his face. Judge Phoebus and Quasimodo approached the couple, simultaneously relieved the girl was alive and pitying the injuries she sustained from the battle.

“… I didn’t mean for you to stand off against him alone like that,” Phoebus apologized when Madi had pulled away from the Piper. “If… any of us knew he’d lock us out like he did, I’d have—“

“It’s okay…” A small reassuring smile appeared on the girl’s face amidst the tears. “I don’t think… anyone did.” She handed the jar to the judge with both of her hands. “But he won’t bother you guys anymore, like I promised…”

… The strained smile and furrowed brow Phoebus wore showed his obvious concern for her wellbeing despite his relief, but he took the little jar from her with a nod. “Thank you… Miss Madilyn.”

Quasimodo, however, was more sensitive to her pain as he approached her: gently taking her hands. “But—But are you going to be alright?” he timidly inquired.

The concern was touching, admittedly… Madi found herself melting in response to his empathy as she embraced him also.

“Oh… Thank you… I just… need to lie down… and decompress,” she whimpered. “That was… a lot.”

“Literally no one here can blame you,” Phoebus commented. “I was right when I thought bringing your boyfriend along was a good idea~ And Quasi…” He patted his friend on the shoulder… “Thanks for getting us in~”

The hunchback looked up at the judge as he pulled away from the hug, a smile crossing his lips in response to the gratitude.

“Well,” Phoebus continued after a brief pause, “let’s get that door unlatched, then we can all rest up” He held up the jar, watching the light inside continue to flicker. “It already feels like today was a loooong day.”

୨ ——- ♡ ——- ୧

Madilyn and the Piper left for home the next day, and the girl even made sure to ask Quasimodo for a way to keep in touch from how quickly they became friends. But when she was alone with her boyfriend, she made a confession regarding their recent job in Paris:

“That was… the most exhausting and slightly-traumatizing job I’ve done so far…”