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miranyx1337 · 11 months ago

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Alastor x reader

FEATHER chapter III

Tags: fluff (for now ) enemies to lovers, kissing, being protective, cuddles, sleeping problems, flirting, possesive reader is an angel, fem reader

He needed a new plan, something that would change her mind about him. He had always been able to enchant women, making them fall for him completely. Maybe that's what he needed now; since the fear of Adam wasn't enough, he needed something deeper – love. It was a strange word for him, when he tried to imagine it, all that came to his mind was a deep desire and craving.

Y/N was definitely one of the things he desired most throughout his afterlife, a gateway to freedom. Escape from the curse he brought upon himself.

The memory of her momentary outburst of anger made him blush, and his hand instinctively went to the ear she had touched.

He was not angry, her touch and closeness weakened his contract, unlocking dormant potential. It made him feel like he had a radio playing in his chest.

This cute angel had to desire his presence enough to bind her soul to him for eternity.

"Vaggie, my dear, how do you feel?" a cheerful radio voice filled the room. The fallen angel quickly scanned the room, looking for his spear.

"Calm down, sweetheart. I just need some information from you," he said, sitting on the other side of the bed, twirling a cane in his hands.

"What do you need, freak? And what are you doing in my and Charlie's bedroom?" she questioned.

"As I said, it's a matter of great importance, and I need information.

Speak before I wake up enough to kick you out."

"What does Y/N like? Generally, what do angels like, what do you find appealing in others? Why did you fall in love with Charlie?"

Vaggie needed to rub her eyes and analyze what the uninvited guest had just said. Why this sudden interest in Y/N? What did he want from her? She was an angel too, there must be something only Y/N could do.

"Listen, I don't know what you're plotting with that devilish smile, but nothing will come of it. She's an ANGEL, and a higher-ranking one at that. Why would she stoop to your level?"

"Let's say that majestic little angel charmed me from the first glance. So, what made you fall in love with Charlie?"

Vaggie couldn't comprehend this sudden alastor interest in love.

"I don't know if you'd understand even if I told you."

"So let me try," his tone sharpened with growing impatience.

I fell in love with Charlie because she was full of love."

This answer didn't help him at all, it even confused him more. Someone being full of love was the complete opposite of him, and yet, many had fallen for him before.

"I told you, you won't understand. She is an angel, she loves goodness, harmony, people ready to help and love."

So, he needed to become a lovely person. Nothing he couldn't do.

She sat behind the bar, helping Husk, occasionally lifting Niffty to dust the shelves, and with one wing, she created a breeze to dry freshly painted Angel nails. She was definitely full of love. Her long white hair tangled in the midst of these various activities.

Ugh he was doing it again, observing her from the shadows when it was time to act. He teleported in front of the counter.

Hello, everyone. What's with all the commotion?"

Charlie said she had a new plan to defeat the attack, so they were preparing for her speech - Niffty explained.

Alastor knew exactly which plan they were talking about, specifically his cannibalistic plan, slowly being put into action. Maybe if he suggested to the little angel that he killed Adam deliberately for her, she would fall at his feet?

Well, she would quickly flew back to the heavens. The death of Adam was no longer an option. A sudden, indescribable fear and shiver ran through his body at the thought. What if she truly left, and he never saw her again?

"Alastor." Snapped out of this sudden panic, he looked directly into bright blue eyes.

,,Alastor, you've turned pale. Is everything okay?" Her hand on his forearm made him feel better.

"Yes, don't worry, sweetheart. It's just a momentary weakness. You, on the other hand, need a little help."

She looked at him disoriented.

Remembering his last thoughtless move, he decided it was better to ask.

,‚Can I?" - pointing to her twisted hair.

Embarrassed by this fact, she turned around, trying to locate the tangle. Indeed, she should tie them up for cleaning. Long fingers in black gloves conjured a thin, decorated comb. Alastor began to slowly and gently untangle her hair, humming an unfamiliar jazz tune under his breath.

The atmosphere became quite specific and romantic, which Angel dust quickly noticed. Quietly, he grabbed Niffty's arm and signaled Husk to go with him to the exit. Some time ago, he noticed that Alastor behaved strangely in the company of his new friend. Especialy when he returned from work and caught him holding one of her lost feathers to his lips. Of course, he pretended to be too high to notice.

Alastor and Y/N didn't even notice that they were left alone, lost in their own thoughts. Y/N couldn't remember the last time someone had combed her hair, let alone so gently. Her attention was drawn to the sudden silence when the demon finished humming behind her. She began to feel awkward, trying to find some point of contact.

"I put a gift from you in the room," - she mumbled.

Alastor looked at her as if awakened from a dream - "Oh, that's great. You like it?"

"I like your touch too; it always makes me feel calmer."

"I'm glad to hear that."

Wait, what did she say? His touch always made her feel calmer. The only time Alastor could remember touching Y/N before was in the hallway when she was furious with him. The only direct touch he remembered.

Alastor swallowed.- "What do you mean, always?"

"Oh, you know, your little games with my feather. You know when you're sleeping with it, I also feel company in my bed ?

He didn't know what to say. She could feel that, every single time he kissed, touched, or bit that little thing, she could feel it.

"Y-you knew? Why didn't you just take it back?"

"Maybe I didn't want to take it back and stop you?"

For the next hundred years, Alastor wouldn't feel as embarrassed as he did at that moment.

Y/N looked at him with those pure eyes, clearly flirting with him. Was that enough? Showing some heart and affection to make an angel fall for you?

She leaned closer to him, their breaths almost touching, and he tightly gripped the edge separating them.

What could he do? No sensible answer appeared in his mind, and he couldn't just turn away or escape. So, he did something he always saw in those cheesy romantic comedies his mother used to watch.

Not knowing exactly what he was doing, he gently and quickly kissed her. It was like the first innocent peck in kindergarten, even though it was his first.

#alastor x y/n #alastor radio demon #alastor imagine #alastor x you #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel

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lotus-slumbers · 3 months ago

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Day One of Yandere Monsters and Myths! For October 2024 (1/?)

Content Warnings: stalking mostly and death of a loved one. Apply general yandere warnings.

A mimic that has had its eyes on you for weeks, ever since you and your lover had walked in the woods after sundown. Following you home, it’s stalked you by hovering by windows and prowling outside, waiting and listening through the night.

They’ve entered your life the only way they know how to— by stealing the face of your lover, having painstakingly memorized every detail of their body in the same way they wish to do to yours as soon as they have the chance. Up close and personal, inside and out with no pleasantries to spare.

Every scar and blemish on their skin that they watched you trace over, making constellations and kissing? In envy, they’re still there. The way your lover's hair had sat and their teeth? Perfect in placement. Everything seemed that way, down to the curve of their fingers from years of holding pens and pencils.

But those eyes that you once treasured so dearly— a gateway to the soul, so intimate, they'd remind you when leaning in close to see yours— just aren't the same. It's hard to place at first. Something is just off. Maybe they're sick, you think. Maybe unhappy? Depressed?

And they're so frustrated that they're almost furious. At first, it was wonderful. They thought that they had come up with the perfect disguise to invade your life with but you kept asking if they felt okay. Do they look sick and unhappy to you? Let them make it up to you and show you that they're not. They'll try harder to make the eyes they stole glimmer and shine the same way that you praised your original lover.

They show you incredible agility and stamina, believing that it would prove just how un-sick they were because humans who were sick couldn’t do these things. However, these things are all borderline inhuman. It’s startling, it scares you so much you try to force them to stop, and finally, the words you’ve been looking for form. You realize what’s wrong with their eyes.

“The white of your eyes has been pinkish-red for weeks now!”

Almost like they had been crying, constantly. You’d thought at first they had been and didn’t want to confess it to you but they couldn’t possibly be crying that much. You think it must be a warning sign of an illness and they need to see a doctor. That’s reasonable, with their recent attitude shift but you don’t get to say that.

For the first time, they don't have some reassurance to sing or a defense to play. Their face drops and they smile something sinister.

Perhaps they’d gotten a little distracted in their excitement to get to you but who could blame them? Really, it was your former lovers fault for being such a crybaby and a coward in the face of death.

No reason to hide anymore, right? If you're this perceptive, you'd figure them out soon enough. At least this way they could show you the full extent of how excellent they could truly be for you, all while finally getting rid of the last shred of that former, pitiful person you used to love.

You should only ever have eyes for them now.

#this is not proofread #yandere monster #yandere monster x reader #yandere #yandere x darling #yandere mimic #yandere Halloween

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melliae · 4 months ago

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The Great Seal’s Design

Considering how close Episode Aigis/The Answer is to being released, I think it’s time to point out one of the most interesting design choices in the game. Because everyone must have asked themselves why does the Great Seal look like this:

A golden door with 6 eyes and 4 spirals…

Well, the choice for it to be a door has an obvious source: one of the titles the Death card receives in esoteric traditions (in particular Thelema) is the “Lord of the Gate of Death”. This title also influenced the card rendition in P3 and P4.

The doors behind the skull? Yeah, they are the ones.

I don’t think I’ve to do an in-depth explanation of why doors—and thresholds in general—are a perfect representation for death and transformation/evolution, going from the known and familiar world into the great unknown, from the inner into the outer and vice versa.

“Man is a gateway, through which from the outer world of gods, daemons, and souls ye pass into the inner world; out of the greater into the smaller world. Small and transitory is man. Already is he behind you, and once again ye find yourselves in endless space, in the smaller or innermost infinity. At immeasurable distance standeth one single Star in the zenith.” - Seven Sermons to the Dead.

And as a curiosity that has no particular relation with the Seal’s design: Makoto created the Seal within Nyx’s body, yet The Answer showed him using it within the depths of the collective unconscious. Pretty interesting, and I can only link it with the Star mentioned in the previous quote, and thus with…

“An Indian picture of Shiva-bindu, the unextended point. It shows the divine power before the creation: the opposites are still united. The god rests in the point. Hence the snake signifies extension, the mother of Becoming, the creation of the world of forms. In India this point is also called Hiranyagarbha, 'golden germ' or 'golden egg.'” - Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious

How I lied about its importance xD

Again, I’m not going to repeat the meaning and role of Nyx’s here; I already wrote a post about it. So to put it shortly, Nyx isn’t something that can't be defeated, but only accepted, integrated and transformed. That’s why the Great Seal is a door, because doors are meant to be opened, to communicate the outer with the inner. However, as life and humanity are unable to confront their darkness, the Gate is sealed for the time being.

Now, moving into the next element, the 6 eyes! And I have a perfect quote once more.

“Eyes are round and in common speech are likened to ‘cart-wheels.’ They also seem to be a typical symbol for what I have called the ‘multiple luminosities of the unconscious.’ By this I mean the seeming possibility that complexes possess a kind of consciousness, a luminosity of their own, which, I conjecture, expresses itself in the symbol of the soul-spark, multiple eyes (polyophthalmia), and the starry heaven.” - Mysterium Coniunctionis.

That quote was in regard to an analysis of Ezekiel’s visions about (biblically-accurate, duh) angels, the cherubim and ophanim. Since those angels are the bearers of God’s throne, they become extensions of his essence and symbols of the Self as well, of the unified and whole nature of man. The animal and monstrous characteristics of the angels are due to said wholeness, which fully embraces the autonomous and (sometimes) beastly aspects of the unconscious.

At any rate, the same logic should apply to the Great Seal, with the multiple eyes it has being representations or outright multiples souls/complexes that are working harmoniously as one, constantly watching their surroundings. In this regard, the number of eyes also makes sense: 6 is the quantity of directions (above, below, front, back, right, and left) in a 3D-space like the universe. While the number doesn’t really fit with the hindu Lokapala, it does with their role as the guardians of the cardinal directions and eternal watchers of the universe at large.

However, as far as I’m aware, there’s no particular relevance of the number 6 within a psychoanalytic context beyond two mentions. The first one is in the explanation of Seven Sermons, where the candelabra named “Ignis” and “Eros” has seven arms due to the spiritual principle of the number 3, or “3 + 3 + a special 1”, which in turn connects with the second mention:

“Luna is thus the sum and essence of the metals’ natures, which are all taken up in her shimmering whiteness. She is multi-natured, whereas Sol has an exceptional nature as the ‘seventh from the six spiritual metals.’ He is “in himself nothing other than pure fire.” - Mysterium Coniunctionis

This one makes more sense, considering Makoto’s visage is a white/gray stone hanging near the center of the Seal. It can also connect with the alchemical symbol of the hexagram, representing the union of opposites during the Great Work and, as per Tatsuya’s Scenario, the macrocosm of space—or the macrocosmic universe (“大宇宙”). And just to put the final nail on the coffin:

“This sun has seven rays. A commentator remarks that four of them point to the four quarters; one points upwards, another downwards, but the seventh and ''best" points inwards. It is at the same time the sun's disc, named Hiranyagarbha.” - Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious

The six eyes are the multiple “consciousnesses” that watch over the ever-expanding and ever-developing outer word. They observe and change, focusing only on the reality that surrounds them. While the seventh ray, the most important and exceptional “metal” of all, focuses inwards, into the equal and contrary of the macrocosm: the human soul. And that disposition isn’t only found in Makoto’s “soul”, but also in the other element on the Seal, the 4 spirals.

“We can hardly escape the feeling that the unconscious process moves spiral-wise round a centre, gradually getting closer, while the characteristics of the centre grow more and more distinct. Or perhaps we could put it the other way round and say that the centre—itself virtually unknowable—acts like a magnet on the disparate materials and processes of the unconscious and gradually captures them as in a crystal lattice." - Psychology and Alchemy

4 is the number par excellence of the process of individuation and the Self, the sacred quaternity that’s ever so prevalent in mythology and folklore. And it’s present along with the figure of the spirals that, as previously quoted, stands for the movement of the psyche around its core and whole nature, the Self. Thus, the spirals go on forever, endlessly and fruitlessly getting close to the underlying archetype of life and humanity.

The eyes and spirals, then, present complementary imagery. They both represent the simultaneous collectivity and individuality of the Self, which is “smaller than small and bigger than big”. Yet, the divinity present on them is only fulfilled when the effigy of humanity is included, the immobile and changeless center from which every movement emerges and around which they move.

However, life is bound by time and change by definition. It transforms itself to accommodate archetypal wholeness. So what happens when that wholeness is achieved and embodied?

“That would probably mean—translated into our language—that when the Self, after having grown within the earthly man, has completely reached its goal, i.e., the mandala of the unus mundus, then it has a deadly effect on the earthly body because it has reached a form of definite oneness with the all-pervading cosmic One-continuum, which seems to be hostile to separated existence.” - Psyche and Matter, by Marie-Louise Von Franz.

The Self, the union between the outer and the inner, is the final goal of life, its purpose. And once it’s achieved, life is ready to “depart”, but not completely. Again, when individuation is finished the individual becomes one with the collective and world at large, and just like them, it keeps going even after death, though not necessarily in a physical manner. Again, the only thing that dies is the physical body, because the realized essence becomes everlasting, like stone itself.

“Then spirit, soul, and body become ‘the One, in which the whole mystery lies hidden.’ This ‘One’ is also described as a stone statue which is born out of the fire. It unites spirit, soul, and body and contains all four elements.” - Psyche and Matter.

The real stones that everyone knows of aren’t eternal, obviously. I’m not speaking about that kind of thing, but of their symbolic nature as things that surpass the lifespans of all living beings, that resist the weathering of time and the elements. Thus, what element better than stone to represent the non-bodily eternity of the soul? Even Erebus, with a strength that Elizabeth said was enough “to tear down mountains to the heavens”, can’t even put a scratch on Makoto’s effigy.

Following with the stone motif, Christ’s association with stones can also be highlighted, the eternal cornerstone of the house of god, as well as the Philosopher’s Stone, which, despite having red as its main color as seen with Trismegistus, is said to be a manifestation of God like Christ is, and the microcosm itself—the perfected human spirit. But again, the main idea behind the statue is that it’s Makoto’s crystallized life force, made to last as long as humanity finds life unbearable.

The Great Seal, the manifestation of Makoto’s soul and his final resolution, will forever remain in the abyss of the collective unconscious as a symbol of the potential that lies dormant within everyone—the timeless bond that joins everyone as one. And as long as it remains as such, the Gate will be eternally closed, immovable as a mountain.

He may look alone, but that's from the truth.

#persona 3 #persona 3 spoilers #persona 3 reload #makoto yuki #great seal #minato arisato #persona 3 protagonist

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dmitriene · 1 year ago

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cw: comfort, maybe slighty hurt, leon in need of acceptance, dog poem references, hints on established relationship, kisses, markong, hints of possesive behavior, slighty suggestive, female anatomy, just a blurb pairing: older leon kennedy x fem reader

every action has a consequence, and an violent dog does not become violent on its own, does not bite an outstretched hand simply because it likes it, and does not defend itself by growling and pressing itself to the floor when you approach it — because she is not like this on her own, but because of the influence of society.

leon is much different from a wild street dog looking for food in the gateways and biting those passing by, he is different in that he does not bite the feeding hand, presses his muzzle to the warmth and believes in the fleetingly offered sparks of comfort, even if over and over again he will still be abandoned, broken by society, closed in on himself, drowned in oppressive darkness.

he himself licks his wounds, licks them with a flask of alcohol, trying to keep his distance, baring sharp teeth in fleeting aggression and dark humor, but time after time he still shortens the distance and allows himself to invade his soul again,to caress in order to deceive later, to instill false hope in an already matured dog, who remains a puppy inside.

you were the first to reach out to him in an attempt to soothe him, taking small steps to meet his exposed, sharp teeth and loud growls — from small gestures, be it a good morning wish, to slow touches, straightening the collar of his shirt when you notice that it is wrinkled, or his dark strands of hair, shaggy here and there, feeling a little harsh under the palm, and lepn doesn’t twitch, growl, or even bite, he just wrinkles his nose and looks at you through narrowed blue eyes.

he opened voluntarily, exposed himself to stroking touches, bit not in order to defend himself, but in order to express affection, mark you for the eyes of everyone else with a scattering of scarlet bite marks, somewhere yellowed due to the applied force, purple hickeys blooming along the line of neck and shoulders, left for show, and descending down to the partition of your breasts and in passionate, burning spots even lower, where his fingerprints remain on your waist, and on the inside of supple flesh on the thighs, where there a familiar marks again, a path leading to the wet petals of the bud, folds, tormented and swollen from his worship.

from that moment on, leon had a place where he could come and where he would be greeted with warm hugs, where his problems would lie as open wounds on his bleeding heart, each of which you would cover up, sew up, and kiss on top, making sure that by the time he leaves there are no and traces of past traumas, and he can’t help but stay with you forever, can’t help but return here again and again, knowing that he will be accepted here, that he’s not a violet dog.

#.𐙚july's writings #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon scott kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy comfort #leon smut #leon scott kennedy fluff #leon scott kennedy x fem reader #leon scott kennedy comfort #leon scott kennedy x you #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy drabble #domestic leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy blurb

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storytowrite · 6 months ago

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|Beyond the tears ~ Bang Chan|

paring: Chan x Y/N

genre: angst with happy ending

word count: 4048

Warnings: self harm, hate, suicide, bullying, blackmail, 18+

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You entered the training room with your heart beating like crazy. You were a trainee at JYP Entertainment, one of the largest music labels in South Korea. This place, which was supposed to be your gateway to fulfilling your dreams, became your nightmare. You joined a band that was supposed to debut with a 4-piece lineup, but JYP said they needed someone from abroad. Your fellow members did not hide their dislike for you. Your debut was just around the corner and the pressure on you was almost palpable.

The only ray of light in this dark period was Chan. You knew him from Australia, where you grew up together. Now, as a member of a popular band, he had his problems, but he always found time to support you. He was your soulmate, and maybe even more, but you were glad you had him by your side when everyone else turned their backs on you. His words of support were like balm for your wounded soul.

The stage was lit with spotlights and the crowd of fans went wild, waiting for the next performance. It was supposed to be one of the last pre-debut shows before the grand finale. Your heart was racing and your hands were shaking as you stood backstage, trying to calm your breathing. Today was supposed to be a special day, but instead it felt like a storm was brewing.

Your moment has finally come. You stepped onto the stage, trying to focus on the lyrics of the song and the moves you had practiced. Everything was going well until your voice suddenly cracked. The audience froze and you felt as if the whole world stopped. However, you immediately managed to correct your mistake and finish the song without making a single mistake. Still, you left the stage with a heavy heart.

The cold reality was waiting for you backstage. The manager was furious, and the band members did not hide their disapproval. Words of criticism fell on you like hail.

"How could you mess up like that?", "It was a disaster!", "You let us all down!" Even the record company left no stone unturned on you. You felt like the whole world had turned against you.

But the worst came later, when you saw the comments under your fancam. The Internet was merciless.

"No talent", "She's not suitable for this industry", "She ruined the whole performance". Every word was like a blow to the heart. You couldn't believe that people could be so cruel because of just one small mistake.

You were sitting in your room, trying to control your tears, when you heard a soft knock on the door. It was Chan. He appeared like a knight on a white horse, bringing with him a ray of hope in this dark time. He sat down next to you on the bed and you instantly felt all your worries melt away.

“Hey, everything will be okay.” He said softly, placing his hand over yours. “Don't worry about the hate. You are amazing and I know you can do it.”

His words were like a warm blanket on a cold night. You felt yourself slowly starting to calm down. Chan continued, telling you about his own difficulties and how he overcame them. His stories encouraged you and you started to believe that maybe everything would actually work out.

At one point our eyes met, and a quiet, electrifying moment hung in the air. You felt your heart beat faster and the distance between you seemed to shrink. You were so close you could feel his breath on your skin. But before anything could happen, the door burst open.

It was Yumi, one of the band members. Her face was contorted with anger and her eyes flashed with lightning.

“Am I interrupting?” She asked coldly, looking at you with obvious dislike. You knew s she didn't like you, and now you had one more reason to find out.

Chan pulled away and you felt like someone had poured a bucket of cold water on you. Yumi had a crush on Chan for a long time, and seeing him close to you was unbearable for her.

"NO." Chan replied, getting out of bed. “We just talked.”

Yumi looked at you with contempt and then at Chan, as if to say she felt sorry for him for having to spend time with you. She grabbed Chan's hand and pulled him along. Chan looked at you apologetically and you were left alone with your thoughts.

"Sorry." He said quietly. “We'll spend more time together someday, I promise.” His words outraged Yumi even more.

When the door to your room closed you felt a pang in your heart again, you didn't like the fact that Chan was going with another girl. You had the feeling that you were starting to feel a little more for Chan than just friendship.

The next few days Chan was too busy with his activities and had no time for you. You tried even harder than before to recover from your mistake and your effort was not in vain. You practiced all day and night to perfect everything.

But your efforts required sacrifices. Sometimes you forgot to eat anything throughout the day, and sometimes you stayed up all night to perfect the choreography. It affected your appearance.

You walked through the halls of the studio, trying to avoid the stares of passers-by. Tiredness was visible on your face and the dark circles under your eyes were impossible to hide. Every step felt heavy, like an invisible weight was pressing down on your shoulders.

It was another day full of stress and challenges that seemed to have no end. The pressure of success, the expectations of fans, and your own ambitions were starting to overwhelm you. Just then, completely by accident, you collided with someone on the corner.

"Sorry!" You called out automatically, looking up.

It was Chan. He looked at you with concern and surprise. His eyes, usually full of energy and joy, were now full of concern.

��Y/N? What happened?" He asked, examining your face closely.

You couldn't hide your condition any longer. Not in front of him, even if you tried, he would discover everything. You sighed deeply, trying to gather your thoughts.

“It's... it's nothing, Chan. It's just... it's been a little hard lately.” You said quietly, trying to smile even though your eyes showed your true emotions.

Chan noticed how exhausted you were. Weight loss, dark circles under his eyes - all this was a signal to him that something was wrong. He couldn't ignore it.

“Doesn't look like 'nothing', Y/N.” He said softly, moving closer to you. “Can you tell me what's going on? We're friends, right?"

Your eyes met his. You fought with yourself for a while, but you finally felt like you could trust him. You needed someone to listen to you.

“It's all… the pressure, the demands… I feel like I'm losing control.” You confessed as tears began to stream down your cheeks. ”I don't know if I'm good enough, Chan. I feel shitty, like I'm just a talentless person."

His heart clenched at the sight of your tears. Without thinking, he stepped closer and gently wiped the tears from your cheek.

“You are the most talented and beautiful person I know, Y/N. Never doubt it. Everyone has their difficult moments, but that doesn't mean you're not good enough. You are amazing and special.” He said, his voice full of warmth.

You didn't know what to say. His words took you by surprise. Before you knew it, Chan leaned in and kissed you softly. It was like forgetting the whole world for a brief moment, as if only the two of you existed in that moment.

When the kiss ended, you looked at each other in silence. You saw more than just friendship in his eyes. It was a feeling you both hid, perhaps even from yourselves.

Your face turned raspberry red and you bit your lip slightly, smiling slightly. You weren't expecting it at all, but you had to admit that it felt very good.

Without heeding anything, Chan grabbed your hand and took you to his studio. He closed the door behind you and you leaned against his desk. In the blink of an eye, the boy was next to you and placed his hands on both sides of your body.

“You don't even know how long I've been waiting for this.” He croaked, moving between your legs.

Your face did not hide surprise, but you decided to give in to the feeling that was hidden somewhere deep in your soul. He leaned towards you and placed a kiss on your lips again. His movements were gentle, full of tenderness, but also careful, as if he wasn't sure if he could continue.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, letting him know he could continue. And that's when it started. His hands went to your buttocks and he pulled you closer to him. His kisses became more confident and passionate. You started to get aroused from just kissing.

You felt your body become hot and a huge knot began to form in your lower abdomen. His soft, full lips moved to your neck, leaving a wet trail behind them. A muffled moan of pleasure escaped your lips. Chan just smiled and sucked on one of your collarbones, leaving a raspberry mark.

The pleasure that came from it was unbearable and a quite loud moan escaped your lips.

“Don't do that, I won't be able to stop myself. “ Chan whispered, lightly biting your earlobe.

A pleasant shiver ran down your spine and your cheeks turned red again. Chan was about to kiss you a second time when you suddenly heard someone calling his name from the hall. You quickly pulled away from each other and laughed awkwardly when your eyes met.

“I have to go, beautiful, but I'll see you soon. Let it remain our sweet secret. “ He kissed you tenderly on the cheek before leaving the studio.

You waited for a moment, rejoicing like a child, and you also left the room and went straight home. The amount of emotions was too great to stay in this place for even a few more minutes.

When you got home you couldn't believe what happened today. You didn't expect that things would turn out this way and that you would have such a relationship with Chan. Your best friend, your childhood soulmate. Under the influence of high emotions and constant thoughts about this situation, you couldn't focus on anything at all and you didn't do anything productive for the rest of the day.

Finally at night, when your emotions calmed down a bit and you were able to function normally, you laid in your bed and were about to go to sleep when you received a message. Thinking it was Chan, you grabbed your phone, but to your surprise, it was a text from Yumi. At first you ignored her, but when more and more messages started coming in, you finally decided to check what she wanted from you.

As soon as you opened the message, you froze. You couldn't believe your own eyes. You were just looking at photos of you and Chan in his studio kissing. You didn't understand where Yumi got these photos. Your mind was filled with questions you couldn't find answers to.

Without hesitation, you wrote to Yumi: "Where did you get these photos? Delete them immediately!" The reply came almost immediately: "Meet me in 30 minutes at JYP and I'll explain everything."

You threw your phone on the bed and felt a wave of panic. You didn't have time to think. You quickly grabbed your coat and ran out of the apartment. The rain started to fall harder, but you didn't pay attention to it. You had to get to JYP, you had to find out what Yumi wanted from you.

When you arrived, Yumi was waiting for you in the hall, a satisfied smile on her face. You felt the blood rush to your head.

“What does that mean, Yumi?” You burst out, barely holding back your tears. "Why are you doing this?"

Yumi shrugged as if it was all just harmless fun.

“You see, Y/n, I have some plans. And you are part of them.” Her voice was cold, emotionless. “If you want me to delete these photos and not ruin your and Chan's career, you have to do something for me.”

You felt your heart sink.

"What do you want?" Yumi smiled broadly, a gleam of triumph in her eyes.

“You have to embarrass yourself on your next live. I want you to sing a song, but you need to be so out of tune in the whole song.”

You felt your world falling apart. It was degrading, after all, you didn't train so much to show this side of yourself, but you knew there was no other option. If you don't do what Yumi says, your career and Chan's will be ruined.

"I agree." You said quietly, feeling tears begin to flow down your cheeks.

For the next week, you avoided Chan as he prepared for his comeback. After all, you couldn't tell him about the situation with Yumi. However, the boy wrote to you every day, trying to comfort you as usual, even though he didn't know what was really going on. The hate from the band members and label continued to come at you, but you tried not to give up, remembering Chan's words that gave you strength.

The day of the live came and you were sitting in the dressing room, shaking with nerves. You knew it would be a nightmare. Yumi stood nearby, a satisfied smile on her face.

“Remember, Y/N, one wrong move and these photos will go out.” Yumi whispered, looking down at you.

As soon as the camera turned on, each girl began to show off their strengths. Their dancing, rapping and singing. Finally it was your turn, you took a deep breath and started singing. You deliberately mangled every note, feeling your heart break with each passing second. Your long-earned self-confidence and desire to show your best side have been forgotten. You weren't sure if you would ever get back what you had worked for so long, all you felt inside was pain.

Comments started pouring in almost immediately.

"What an embarrassment!", "Is she serious?", "It's tragic!" Yumi read them aloud, enjoying every cruel word.

You couldn't stand it. You ran out of the building, ignoring the screams of Yumi and the rest of the staff. The street was dark, the rain was pouring so hard that you could barely see where you were going. But it didn't matter. You had to run as far away as possible. Your phone was ringing, but you didn't have the strength to answer it. You were devastated, overwhelmed by the amount of negative emotions and stimuli.

Finally, unable to run any longer, you fell to your knees in a puddle, feeling the rain mix with your tears. You had nowhere to go, no one to ask for help. You were alone, in the dark, with your heart aching and your soul torn to shreds. After a while, you were so soaked that you didn't care.

Just when you thought things couldn't get any worse, suddenly your eyes were blinded by the glare of flashlights. People who recognized you started gathering around you, taking pictures of you and making fun of the condition of the "future big kpop star".

You tried to cover yourself somehow, but the number of phones being shoved in your face was too much. The whole situation led to a panic attack. The pain in your chest began to intensify and your breathing quickened significantly, preventing you from taking a full breath. You were afraid, powerless and alone.

Only the police, who were on patrol, chased away the onlookers and helped you calm down enough to go home. You entered the building, soaking wet, and locked yourself in your room, bursting into tears. You immediately grabbed your phone to check if any photos from the incident had leaked online.

You knew it was inevitable, but you still hoped for a miracle. Of course you miscalculated. The outpouring of photos and cruel entries was huge. Your name was trending on social media. To make yourself even stronger, you started reading the comments. Each subsequent one contained more and more venom. You've been scrolling through the comments for a long time, but you haven't found a single positive one.

You burst into even more tears. Under the influence of negative comments and the whole situation, your thoughts have gone very wrong. You grabbed a few cans of beer from the fridge and drank them in one gulp. The alcohol hit you very quickly. You didn't want to feel this pain anymore, you didn't want to suffer anymore.

Shaky and under the influence of alcohol, you went to the cabinet where you kept your medicines, grabbed a full bottle of painkillers and sat on the floor. The tears wouldn't stop flowing from your eyes. Still shaking, you grabbed your phone and texted Chan one word

"Sorry."

You opened the bottle of medicine and immediately poured all the pills into your mouth. They struggled down your throat, but you managed to swallow them. You grabbed your phone again and texted again

“I can't take it anymore...I love you.”

And now all you have to do is wait for the alcohol to mix with the drugs and you can finally rest.

Chan was in his studio when he received the news. At first he was surprised because he didn't understand why you were apologizing and he was about to reply to you when he received the rest of the messages. The terror shook him to his core. With a heart full of fear, he rushed to your apartment, breaking all speed limits without a second thought. In the meantime, he called an ambulance, sensing that something bad had happened.

When he got there, he was banging on the door, calling your name. However, he was met with no response. In panic, he kicked down the door and his heart broke. He saw you lying limply on the floor, with an empty medicine bottle and beer cans scattered around the room. He rushed to you, holding your head, trying to wake you up. However, it was to no avail.

“Don't die Y/n please!” He screamed through tears. He was helpless.

Fortunately, rescuers arrived moments later and took you to the hospital, where they fought for your life. Chan went with you and he was going crazy in the waiting room waiting for news from any doctor

Hours passed and still nothing was known about your condition. The only person who really knew about this whole incident was Chan, who, despite the persuasion of the guys from Stray Kids, did not want to leave the hospital. As soon as the news about Chan in the hospital spread on the Internet, there were hundreds of fans in front of the building wanting to take his photo, and the hospital security couldn't keep up with removing the intrusive fans.

Chan didn't care if they took pictures of him or talked about him, the only thing that mattered was you. The boy was angry with himself, he felt that he had let you down, he didn't notice your suffering and he wasn't with you when you needed it most.

Just as Chan was starting to lose all hope, the doctor came out and informed him about your condition.

“We managed to save her, but her parameters don't look very good. For now, she will need a lot of rest.” He said, writing something else down in the papers.

As soon as Chan heard the doctor's words, he felt a stone fall from his heart. You lived. Everything that had previously seemed to be the end of the world suddenly disappeared. Your bed slowly rolled out of the operating room and Chan immediately rushed to it, helping the nurses get you to your room. He has reserved a VIP room especially for you, so that you can have the best possible conditions. He didn't care how much money he spent - now the only thing that mattered was you.

Chan didn't leave your room even for a moment. He was still by your side, waiting for you to wake up. He ordered food to the hospital, he produced food at the hospital, he even stopped participating in Stray Kids activities just to be with you. His devotion was unwavering and his heart full of caring.

After three days, you finally woke up. The world was blurry, but the first thing you saw was Chan sleeping by your side. He was sitting in a chair with his head resting on the bed. Unable to help yourself, you smiled slightly and brushed the stray strands of hair from his forehead. The boy immediately woke up, and his face showed satisfaction. He snuggled into you and you both shed a happy tear.

Chan started to apologize to you for not being there for you, but you stopped him.

“It's not your fault,” you said quietly.

Chan confessed that he saw all the bad things that happened to you and he was very sorry that he was too busy to be there for you. You explained that it was all Yumi's fault, she took pictures of you two in the studio kissing and then blackmailed you. Chan was hurt by your words because he didn't want your career to be ruined because of him. He promised that everything would be fine now, that he would never leave you again and that he would personally make sure everything worked out.

After a week in the hospital, you were finally able to go home. Chan picked you up and took you straight to JYP Entertainment, where JYP personally informed you that you were leaving the band and would be a soloist. You were very happy and grateful to Chan for all this. Your career gained new momentum and your popularity was growing day by day.

Chan was with you practically constantly. In his very busy schedule, he always found time to at least write to you. Your relationship blossomed and your love became stronger. At one of the large galas to which you were invited, Stray Kids received an award. Chan confessed that he is in a relationship with you and plans to spend the rest of his life with you. You felt embarrassed, but Chan walked up to you and placed a kiss on your lips.

The room lit up with a thousand flashes and cheers echoed from the walls, but it didn't bother you, you were now locked in your own bubble that you didn't want to leave. Your hearts were pounding like crazy, you knew perfectly well that you were made for each other and you had been waiting for each other for far too long.

Videos and photos from this event quickly spread over the Internet, but lucky for you, the fans loved you. They discovered what kind of person you really are and how much talent you hide inside. Your songs began to gain more and more popularity and your solo career was gaining momentum.

Chan fulfilled his promise. He was with you in the most difficult moments, supported you in every decision and loved you endlessly. Your love has become an inspiration for many people, and together you have created a story that will remain in the hearts of your fans forever.

The years passed and your love only grew. You went through many difficulties together, but you always supported each other. Your solo career continued to grow at an incredible pace, and Chan continued to enjoy success with Stray Kids. You were the perfect duo – on stage and in life.

The love you shared was unbreakable. Every day brought new challenges, but you knew that together you could overcome anything. Because true love will always find a way, regardless of the obstacles.

Masterlist

#stray kids #skz reaction #skz #skz fanfic #kpop fanfic #kpop #stray kids reaction #bang chan x reader #skz masterlist #bang chan fanfic #skz bangchan #skz bang chan #bangchan x y/n #bangchan x reader #skz channie #stray kids bang chan

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offtorivendell · 11 months ago

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The Asteri, the Daglan, and Prythian's Court System

Disclaimer: this is a stupidly massive crack theory that could end up being disastrously wrong. Oh well.

Spoilers: the ACOTAR and CC series to date (I'm halfway through HOFAS right now, slowly plodding along, so nothing beyond that).

Image from ACOSF, Kindle edition.

Buckle up for some more of my nonsense! I think I could have discovered why Prythian's land has the Court and High Lord Systems. This theory still has a couple of wrinkles to iron out, but it's plausible, so I figured I'd share what I've got.

A massive thank you goes to @ladynightcourt3 and @psychologynerd for our chat yesterday morning, which led to this post. I love you guys! 💜

Full warning that this will A) be absolutely cracked, and B) contains Maasverse spoilers, including from HOFAS (up to around 40% I think), but I was mulling over what I'd read so far and this popped into my mind.

Part 1 - The Court System

Bryce made, I think, one hell of an assumption when she said the following in HOFAS:

Vesperus, the only Asteri left on this world, lay dead. - CC HOFAS, chapter 26

@wingedblooms and I have previously theorised that some of the barren regions in Prythian may be so because the death gods were trapped there, drinking the magic of the land, rendering it spent - lifeless - and possibly unable to power up a gateway to an interstellar rift. We both also think it's very interesting that one Elain Archeron was referred to as “a rose bloom in a mud field,” but I digress.

However, in HOFAS, we learnt that there was a Daglan/Asteri, called Vesperus (who considered herself the Evening Star and their god), trapped in a crystal coffin far below the Prison, which was once a land of Dusk.

The female’s long nails scraped along the lid of the coffin. She didn’t look at them as she tested the lid for weaknesses. “I am your god. I am your master. Do you not know me?” - CC HOFAS, chapter 24

It's interesting, no, that the region was named after the Daglan who ruled it? Was this common practice? Because we just so happened to learn, in Feysand’s ACOSF bonus chapter, that there was once an ancient Night Court goddess named Nyx.

You know, their son's namesake? Yikes. 🫣

“You may call me Vesperus.” The creature’s eyes glowed with irritation. “Are you related to Hesperus?” Bryce arched a brow at the name, so similar to one of Midgard’s Asteri. “The Evening Star?” “I am the Evening Star,” Vesperus seethed. - CC HOFAS, chapter 25

Silene, Theia's second daughter, who “escaped into the night,” gave us further information that appeared - to me, at least - to be incomplete. Or perhaps inaccurate? She had been taught by her mother, so she could have been fed certain things as facts. For example, was the land of Prythian really divvied up into seasons and times of day before the Daglan came to town?

The land strengthened. It returned to what it had been before the Daglan’s arrival millennia before. We returned to what we’d been before that time, too, creatures whose very magic was tied to this land. Thus the land’s powers became my mother’s. Dusk, twilight—that’s what the island was in its long-buried heart, what her power bloomed into, the lands rising with it. It was, as she said, as if the island had a soul that now blossomed under her care, nurtured by the court she built here. - CC HOFAS, chapter 19

The Cauldron was of our world, our heritage. But upon arriving here, the Daglan captured it and used their powers to warp it. To turn it from what it had been into something deadlier. No longer just a tool of creation, but of destruction. And the horrors it produced … those, too, my parents would turn to their advantage. - CC HOFAS, chapter 19

My sister and I grew older. My mother educated us herself, always reminding us that though the Daglan had been vanquished, evil lived on. Evil lurked beneath our very feet, always waiting to devour us. - CC HOFAS, chapter 19

Reading between the lines, I think it's just possible to link the powers of each land with the Daglan who once ruled over them. Perhaps each region - each “precursor” to a modern day Court - had a Daglan/Asteri buried underneath a barren peak, or in a body of water? Is this why the lands have frozen seasons, pools of starlight*, or powers based upon the light of the time of day? Because of a monster buried far, far below the surface?!

*Is there a Daglan entombed in a crystal coffin far below the surface, or is it a cache of firstlight, one that may be refuelled each Calanmai? Or, as @psychologynerd has suggested, is there a Made object of power that will draw Elain to the Spring Court?

Our home had been left empty since we’d vanished. As if the other Fae thought it cursed. So I made it truly cursed. Damned it all. - CC HOFAS, chapter 21

Despite my efforts to hide what this place had once been, a terrible, ancient power hung in the air. It was as my mother had warned us when we were children: evil always lingered, just below us, waiting to snatch us into its jaws. So I went to find another monster to conceal it. - CC HOFAS, chapter 21

I left, wandering the lands for a time, seeing how they had moved on without Theia’s rule. They’d splintered into several territories, and though they were not at war, they were no longer the unified kingdom I had known. - CC HOFAS, chapter 21

As a quick aside, I still suspect that Fionn may have been a Daglan - or similar, perhaps an Under King - who tricked Theia into thinking him a normal faerie and used her to overthrow his peers in order to gain more land for himself. It seems exactly like something a rogue Asteri would do.

Like I suggested earlier, could each region be named for its ruler? Because the names of at least one of the Midgard Asteri was, shall we say, coincidentally similar to the Daglan of Prythian, and others appear to match at least the solar courts.

Solar:

Dawn - Eosphoros

Day - Rigelus

Dusk - Hesperus

Night - Sirius

Seasonal (incomplete/unsure/probably incorrect):

Spring - Austrus?

Summer - Octartis?

Autumn - ?

Winter - Polaris?

As I said, the Midgardian Asteri don't perfectly match up to the seasonal Prythian courts, but it's too close to not consider as a possibility, imo.

Perhaps the lands of Midgard were broken up into solar regions and something else that wasn't seasonal? But given the Vesperus/Hesperus competition... maybe whatever species Asteri and/or Daglan are are strongest when travelling with a full complement of powers? And each "clan" (for lack of a better word) that travelled together had dawn, day, dusk, and night “lights,” as well as spring, summer, autumn and winter lights? Could it weaken them to be without a full cohort of powers? As @ladynightcourt3 said, it would explain why they were so upset about Sirius. Could Rigelus be hoping for a replacement to find them and return them to full strength, and that's why he keeps an empty throne?

Part 2 - The High Lords

No one knew that the infant who sometimes glowed with starlight had inherited it from me. That it was the light of the evening star. The dusk star. - CC HOFAS, chapter 21

An Asteri being buried under each Court could explain the high lord magic as well.The HLs are “a different breed,” per Lucien. Did the Asteri/Daglan need a Starborn Fae who is predisposed to holding, or withstanding, their magic? If this is the case, it would explain why the next in line to inherit the power - or who the magic chooses - isn't always a direct descendant of the previous high lord. Does it pass to the Fae with the strongest Starborn blood? And why the mountain shook when Mor got her first period. There has to be a Daglan/Asteri buried under the Hewn City.

That being said, why is it only men who can inherit the magic, and not women, especially when we now know that high ladies used to exist? Did Theia's betrayal made them distrust females in general, or was it something Seline did? Or is it because the women have the most/purest/strongest, starborn power, so did the men keep them down to use them as “breeding stock” in order to legitimise their rule, similar to what Pelias did with Helena?

Part 3 - Further Thoughts

I still wonder how Hybern and Hel could come into play here, because I think those lands are linked. A Valg/Hel Prince population on a different island?

@psychologynerd noted that we’ve previously connected the solar and seasonal courts, such Dawn = Spring, Day = Summer etc., and that it would track for Autumn and Dusk - an appropriately matched pair - to migrate together to Midgard. As an aside, this could tie in with the parallels shared by Azriel and Lucien, who may be/are linked to Dusk and Autumn. What if their power was connected via their “stars”?

@ladynightcourt3 wondered if Hesperus may have changed her name, hence Vesperus’ anger.

I can understand how a Daglan's presence may impart their magic into the land, especially if they're left buried - steeping? - in the soil for millennia, but how would that magic shape the faeries living there? Is it like I suggested in this post, that prolonged exposure to a powerful object allows a tie to be forged?

A bonus crack theory for fun - what if Merrill is a trapped Asteri? Either Nyx or Sirius, whom Apollion ate, and perhaps she escaped the pit of Hel through the base of the House of Wind library; nobody knows where she came from, she's descended from Rabbath of the Western Wind… her room is described as a cell and she called Nesta “girl” like Amren - an ancient - did. I dunno, but there's something about Merrill.

As always, thank you for reading! 💜

#hosab spoilers #hofas spoilers #acotar cc tog crossover theory #acotar theory #the dusk court #dusk court #the night court #night court #prythian #acotar #sjm books #maasverse #feysand #feyre archeron #rhys acotar #crack theory

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hazshit-hotel-hater · 9 months ago

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Husker Redesign! (6/7)

I wonder if anyone has noticed the silly song links on these

It’s my favourite furry!

A lot of this is just the same from my original Husk redesign you can read here, but to give you a bit more substance let me go slightly more in depth. I’ve already explained Husks gluttony and greed colour scheme but I wanted to note changes he experienced after making a contract with Alastor. First thing, the orange-y red bits are mostly in places similar to Alastor. The nose, the ears, eyebrows, tail, etc.

Them appearing after making a contract with Alastor also go a bit hand in hand with the sin of gluttony and turning to alcoholism to cope with depression and stress. Even after his contract with Alastor breaks, he still has the colouring for participating in the sin due to a contract, similar to how the change of shape in Angel’s markings remain hearts rather than going back to how they used to. I’ll get more into that when we talk about Angel though.

Not sure if anyone noticed with Niffty but she and Husk both share Alastors pupil shape because of that classic “eyes are the gateway to the soul” sort of thing. Not totally sure if Husk gave up his soul or just how power, might’ve missed that, but just in general it’s to show how prevalent Alastor is and the hold he has in their lives. Niffty also has his freckles!

This is also kind of pushing it a bit but in relation to Niffty, Husk, and Angel, they all have some sort of restrictions to their clothing. You’ll see Angel’s outfit eventually, but for Husk and Niffty, the stitches on Niffty’s dress and her thigh garter are hers, and Husk’s are his bowtie and suspenders. Some evil green magic stuff happens and Alastor is able to restrain them or pull them closer with those things, but just a little idea. Overlords being able to find symbolic vulnerabilities and use those is really interesting to me.

Even though he’s definitely the most overdesigned character in this lineup, he’s definitely one of my favourites to look at! Maybe drawing Warrior Cats for 13 years payed off. 🕷️

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nocturnesmoon · 8 months ago

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Chapter 3: Ghosts Of The Past

(Series Masterlist: Divine Violence) (Read on Ao3) (Inspired Playlist)

Series:The Divine Violence - Chapter 3: Ghosts Of The Past

Wordcount: 5.5K

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x John "Soap" MacTavish x Gn!Reader

TW: (View masterlist for series tw and tags) - DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, Religious Trauma, PTSD, Flashbacks, Hallucinations, Anxiety, Paranoia, Disturbing themes, Implied eating disorders, Jealousy, Past abuse, Underage drinking, vomiting

Description: Soap approaches you to eat lunch with him, you begrudgingly accept.

A/N: Wooo another chapter done! Finally getting into some of the angsty bits that's gonna be a gateway to things we're going to expand upon later in the story. Everybody stay hydrated and I hope you enjoy it!

[Prev chapter / Next Chapter]

The night is young and beautiful. Stars would cover the sky above you if it wasn't from the pollution of the city lights. You can still count a few, one, two, three, even four. They're bright here, one even seems to be blinking at you before you realize it's a plane.

It feels almost too ceremonial with the full moon in the sky, and Simon standing by the little makeshift fire in the pile of trash. It reminds you a little of your confirmation, years past by now. Though the church was a lot cleaner, the people like minded. Clothing of white making you shine in the sun, your proud mother with her uptight smile, and your father who had never before seemed proud of anything you did, now smiled warm toned at you.

You can still remember each word the priest spoke to you. Etched so deep in your brain it might as well have been carved into the back of your palm.

Thinking back to it, you realize it's different to this, so much different. The grittiness has a charm to it, but the real reason your nerves have skyrocketed is because of him. You take a step closer to the fire, watch him pop open the bottle of vodka. The one he had stolen from his father’s cabinet. Easier now that he wasn't home as much.

"Nervous?"

He grins at you, grabbing your fidgeting hand in his own. "We can still leave it be?" he offers kindly, but you quickly shake your head no. You had asked for this, you wanted to try it, because you knew the closest way you'd ever come to alcohol otherwise was the wine (Which wasn't even wine, it was grape juice) at the communion in church.

Simon had so graciously offered when you mentioned your want in passing. The curious nature in your soul wanting to try it at least once, even if you turned out to dislike it. You squeeze his hand, as if to jitter out your nerves. Being this far from home never felt good to you, a festering anxiety in your mind that your parents would find out and punish you.

There was a lot of things Simon could help you with, even take the fall for you should the situation call for it, but not this. No, this would be on you, and it would not feel good.

The fire crackles in front of you, something sharp snaps and brings your focus away from the bottle. You had no clue what was burning in there, but it provided a warm place for you to be so you didn't have much to complain about.

"Whenever you're ready Little Spider," he teases and brings the bottle to your hand.

You scoff and roll your eyes. "Does it really burn that bad?" you take the bottle with a small grimace. Your eyes nervously flicking from the liquid to him and back again.

"You seem very determined that this is what you want to do, so why don't you take a sip and find out?"

Another moments hesitance, and you bring the bottle to your lips. In the first second it doesn't burn, just so that the little thought of relief can enter your brain, before being squashed by the lit fire in your throat.

He quickly grabs the bottle away from you, when you start coughing and spurting. The sounds of your distress drowned out by his roaring laughter. His hand comes to pat you on the back, his eyes almost filled with tears from his laughter.

"Oh my oh my oh my, why why why did I do this."

"Oh c'mon, it wasn't that bad, was it?" he looks down at the bottle experimentally. Acting as if he hadn't tasted it countless times before. He brings it to his lips when your outburst calms down, taking a sip seamlessly, taking the burn proud and easy.

"How in the world," you sound astonished by his display. He tries to keep a straight face, but fails very quickly when he sees how you look at him like he's crazy. "Hey don't laugh!" you swat his arm, but soon fall into the laughter along with him.

The fire illuminates his face, casting shadows of you both behind on the wall. The soft orange glow makes some of his features stand out more than normal. His little scars close to his mouth that's normally almost invisible, now almost makes him look scary if it wasn't for how his face was lit up with joy.

"Oh wow," you grab the bottle back to read the inscription as if that would give you more clarity. "I don't understand how people drink stuff like this daily...I mean it's not that good."

His smile falls a little, his breathing catching up from the fit of laughter. "Well, drink enough of it and you'll start to feel funny," he explains simply instead of doing in-depth.

"Huh..." you look at the little alcohol percentage on the bottle, "have you been drunk before?"

He doesn't respond immediately, almost as if he seems ashamed of it. "A few times," he admits and trails closer to the wall, "with a few other guys from school." He leans on it, crossing his arms over his chest. It makes him look edgy, his dark attire and the illumination of a dumpster fire. He looks older than he is like that.

You come closer, tilting your head to the side slightly. He looks at you tentatively, taking in all that is you, the way you look, the way you move, the way you position yourself in front of him, so very close.

"What else have you done?" you ask in a knowing tone that didn't know much at all, "that you haven't had the heart to tell me about yet?" His eyes widen slightly panicked for a moment. You already know how he's compiling an excuse in his brain, or some way to explain himself away from anger, but you aren't angry.

"I just didn't think it was your thing...didn't want to bother you with it...make you feel like you had to," he explains quickly. You shake your head, making sure to give him a small smile as reassurance. His shoulders sag more.

"It wasn't..." you tell him, “But now I’m curious."

"Are you now?" his voice turns back to teasing. How you'd love to smear that smug smile off him, one way or another.

You bring the bottle to your lips, drinking way more than you probably should.

"Yeah, so let's find out."

Your throat burns whenever you throw up. It's become a much more frequent occurrence. The stress of your problems taking wear on your mind. You're no more surprised to find a singular grey hair protrude from your scalp, than you are from the blood mixed with bile in the sink.

That had been your breakfast most likely. The only meal you had found yourself able to sneak away to eat in peace of your assigned room. It left your stomach empty again, the pained hollow feeling you despised despite how much of your life was spent in it.

You'd take anything over this. Oh, how you wished you could be like anyone else, the majority of the reasons to throw up being a hangover, or being sick. Though alcohol hasn't touched your lips in years.

The fluorescent lights blink above you, the little buzzing drowned out by your heavy breathing. The space is better than what you've had the past while, but you did miss the privacy of the motel. People had a tendency to stare here.

You turn on the water, guiding it along with your hands to wash away the bile. Blood trickles down from your knuckles, the split ends of flesh flaking off the bone. You can see the white underneath. The sound of the door opening brings your attention away from it. You avoid the mirror despite its desperate pleas.

No what you can't just leave me here! Please you can't be serious! You're just going to let him keep me in here?! Please just look at me, don't go.

You look towards the mohawk showing itself first.

When you first met Soap, you had been taken aback. He had a very intense personality, a fire within that outshined in his actions. You have yet to determine your own disposition on him. He's friendly enough towards you, all things considered.

"Ah there ye are." He's been standing outside that door for who knows how long. He likely heard the wretched sound as your stomach gave in on itself. Why he chose now to step in, eludes you.

You clear your throat, the hunch in your back stretching out after you turn off the running water. Your fingers run over your knuckles; the wounds gone. "Do you need something?" keeping your voice steady and polite proves a more difficult task than you'd like it to.

"Have ye had lunch yet...?" he's being careful with you. It's a revelation you didn't expect to have for him, did he figure something out he shouldn't have? Does he know?

"Ah was gonna invite ye to join us this mornin' for breakfast, but ah couldn't find ye." Good that had been the intention. A part of you did recognize you couldn't hole yourself away forever though. You were already the odd one out in the group of four.

"Oh.."

Your voice is too weak

The mirror echoes.

"Right...I..."

You clear your throat again, it feels too constricted, the air in here is not enough for you.

You catch yourself in his vibrant blue eyes. You could see an ocean in them, the beautiful waves at sea, the smell of salt in the air. You can feel the surgent winds ghosting over your skin, the sting and burn as water enters your lungs, a warm hand on the back of your neck holding you down. A faraway chanting of prayer echoes muffled in your ears.

"No...I haven't" you try to muster a smile.

"Good," he says pleased "ye're with me then."

The sea is faraway.

The mess hall is the exact kind of hell you expected it to be. Loud, obnoxious, filled with potential social threats and unnecessary questions on the verge from the man sitting in front of you. The only bit of luck you seem to have kept, shows itself in the lack of soldiers here at all. Most of them had likely already eaten.

The meal Infront of you looked anything but appetizing. Yet Soap seemed all the more happy to devour it with no complaints. He's been talking your head off ever since you sat down, clueing you in on things at base. Most of it is useful information you manage to retain, but after awhile your ears goes deaf despite how much you want to listen.

Though you have to admit that it sounds like they're a tight knit group. The 141 formed quite awhile ago, managing to take out several high-level threats. It made sense to put them up against the divine principle, but you couldn't help the doubt in your mind that anything would come of it. Even if you managed to take the group down once more, they would just resurface years later until you took out the root of the problem.

You had failed to do it once.

"...are ye listening?"

Your eyes flicker up from your murky food, locking eyes with Soap. What the hell kind of name was that anyway. Was he good at cleaning dishes? A lot of code names tend to be teasing or insults, so maybe he got teased for it?

"Yeah," you reassure him by briefly giving him your undivided attention. You'd quickly trail out again.

"Ye can tell me to shut up, ah know ah talk a lot" he doesn't sound ashamed of it, but you can hear the hint of self deprecation. Someone's definitely shamed him in the past. You had no intention to do so, you quite preferred people who talk a lot. They talk fast, easy, and typically give way more information than they should which paints you a better picture. A bonus point that it fills out the silence you bring.

"No... it’s nice," you mutter and pick up your fork. You might as well try to fight some of it down, you hadn't even touched any of it yet, and Soap was practically done even with his rambling.

You didn't know whether the lack of people in a typically populated space made you more or less anxious.

"So, ye used to hunt these people a few years ago?"

You meet his eyes for the first time in what feels like forever. You're not sure what you were supposed to find in them, but definitely not the curiosity that shines. This entire taskforce is playing with a hellfire they do not understand. It's practically impossible to take it down, even from within, lord knows you've tried.

"Yeah."

You could bite your lip bloody trying to think of ways to continue the conversation from here. He goes wildly quiet for you. Is he expecting for you to elaborate? What does he even want you to say? What were you allowed to say? What did they know? How much information is appropriate over a lunch in a very public area?

You were starting to regret your decision of agreeing to all of this. You hadn't even started and the stress was pulling you down under.

"They're hard to find, even with a full team" he shakes his head amused, "ah can't even imagine what it must've been like hunting them practically all alone."

"I wasn't alone."

He seems surprised. Good.

Kate hadn't told them every detail.

"They were tenacious then; I don't doubt the group wont behave much different this time around. They always end up with the same values, the same goal." You ramble on, catching yourself by biting your tongue.

"What's the goal?" he asks.

"Doomsday preppers in a nutshell, just add a slimy layer of misguided religion on top of it." You finally take a big bite of your food. It slides down your throat slowly, the dryness, or size catching you off-guard.

Soap slides your glass closer to you. "Not new, but also not every day ye see it to this large of an extent."

"It's been organized for years now, they're not likely to stop from a threat from the authorities. Only way is to take out the roots." You mumble on after getting your throat cleared. There were quite a few ways to go about doing that, all of them left an acidic taste in your mouth.

You could see the way he wanted to ask more. He should refrain, wait for it all to be revealed in proper time instead of probing you for information in an informal interrogation. A quite nice one at that.

You had yet to decide on how close you wanted to get to him.

John MacTavish, Soap.

He was a sergeant, chatty nature, one for jokes, witty, smart. A person worthy to note, despite rebellious appearances.

The captain had yet to earn your respect, and likewise yours his. He was impressive on all accounts. He would also be the first person to throw you off this mission at a sign of weakness. Valuable in its own right.

Kyle was indifferent towards you, a bit cold perhaps, though he seemed a gentleman when it came down to it.

Ghost was......Simon.

You didn't know what you expected when you met Simon again. He's a lot more different than you thought he would be. Taking on the persona of Ghost, you suppose you can't blame him for needing an escape, but the motif still stirs something awful in your chest. Neither of you really got over it.

Maybe you'd have preferred it if he wasn't so aloof with you, a bit more direct in your long-awaited reunion. Perhaps it would have been better if it had mimicked TV, the rain and yelling and screaming in a scenic location to make it more meaningful to you. Unfortunately, reality tends to be far more boring.

"So did he always wear that mask?"

"Ghost? Aye, as long as I've known the bastard," he chuckles "can ask Price about before that, he's known 'im the longest."

There's a pang in your heart, something that feels an awful lot like a drop jealousy, but you can't allow that. It wouldn't be one bit fair. If you were the one to walk away from him then, were you really allowed to feel anything at all for him? Certainly not jealousy over the new relationships he'd build. You should be happy, you really should.

But how dare he abandon you so fast.

You shake your head free of the feeling. Wrongful, wishful, thinking wouldn't change the truth nor the fact he was supposedly better off here.

"Known him long?"

"Ever since we got assigned on this taskforce, give or take a few years now. And Ye?"

"Old acquaintances."

There's another sting in your heart that burns something fierce. All the nights you had spent wishing you were still in contact with him coming back to you. Times when it felt like a single word from him would make life worth living again. A single glance from him could make it worth anything.

You tried to ignore that bit.

But the mask had a symbolism you didn't like any better. You'd only be arrogant to think or claim that you still knew him and his thoughts, but it was still distasteful. Had he forgotten? You had both ran from it, difference was he now wore it on his face and you watched it creep in the shadows.

You had always hated the cold streaks in first signs of winter. When the temperature went freezing, the trees losing their colour, the sun hiding more often now behind threatening clouds. However still no snow. All the unfortunate parts with none of the benefits.

And standing on Simon's freezing front porch didn't help. He was taking too long. It had been half a minute since you rung the doorbell. Where the hell was he? His parents were supposed to be out, and despite his little brother still being home, the two of you would take any opportunity you could take.

You wrap your jacket closer around you. The biting frost nipping at your cheeks and nose. For a moment you debate whether you should ring the bell again, but you remember his words clear, he had told you to just go in, even if it felt wrong to do that without a formal invitation straight from the door.

You hadn't been here too many times. Some part of yourself too scared that the smell of smoke would sting your clothes, and that your parents would know exactly where you had been. You needed to be careful, one wrong decision and they'd forbid you from seeing him again.

You aren't sure if you could handle that.

The door creeks when you open it, too loud for your taste. It makes you grimace. You try calling out for him, to no response. There's a smell of freshly baked bread, likely at the hands of his mum.

A smile tugs on your lips, your stomach twisting hungrily in your body. Hurriedly you kick off your shoes, and hang up your jacket, emerging in the home's living room. For a moment you wonder if anyone is even home, it feels cold from the lack of interaction.

"Simon?" it's not like him to leave you alone like that. Was he even home?

You tiptoe towards the hallway peeking down the dark way. When you stare too long, the shadows move occasionally, takes shape like moving smoke. Another time you softly call his name, slowly coming up to Simon's and his brother’s bedroom.

It's cracked open very slightly, the shine of light coming from the slit. It illuminates the dying flowers placed neatly on a bookshelf. You move to open the door, but before you can get there, you feel a tap on your shoulder.

The hairs on the back of your neck rise, the subtle warm breath from someone else hitting your skin. It felt wrong, and in the back of your mind you knew who it was, what he was doing. You whipped around, the fear having already seeped into your eyes. You were ready to shield yourself, stare into the tall figure that looked like the personification of death.

The scream that erupted from your lungs, weren't only of fear but also from genuine shock. The figure wasn't tall like you had expected, instead you had to glance downwards to meet the eyes behind a white skull mask. You stumble backwards, crashing your body against the door and falling all the way down to the floor.

The boy stands above you, a fit of psychotic little giggles come from him which make your stomach churn with disgust. He holds a butterknife in his hand. It's the only reason you haven't gotten up yet as you stare at his display, trying to mimic his father.

"Tommy what are you doing!" you shout out offended. You hope it covers the tinge of fear you carry. In no universe should Simon's little brother look like this, in no world should he be able to scare you this badly.

The antsy sensation isn't just from the initial surprise, it swirls in your blood at the sight of a raised knife. It doesn't matter that it isn't sharp, it doesn't even matter that it's not directly pointed at you.

It makes you remember. The late nights, the early mornings, the fights that took place within your own home. The list of threats you'd heard, you could recite them as clear as your favourite quote from your favourite book.

"Tommy...put down the knife." You don't hear the tremble in your voice but he does. He tilts his head; a line of light falls over the skull mask. His eyes are illuminated beneath it, they carry nothing but distaste for you.

He's never liked you. You were fine with that, but this is just too far. Where was Simon anyway!? If Tommy was home then he should be as well, maybe even his mother if anything at all.

Like a saving grace, an angel sent from the heavens, you hear his uncertain voice call out shakily.

"Tommy what are you doing, give that to me."

Simon pulls you even closer to his form, your legs shift from how you're sitting halfway into his lap. He had practically forced you this close when you started to complain about the cold. Not that you minded the proximity itself.

"Are you sure we can't just lock a room, so he won't disturb us?" You nuzzle closer into his side. A big breath exits your lungs, it rises upwards like a little cloud. His arm pulls your jacket closer around, his hand settling on your waist to give you a little squeeze.

"We're fine here," he mumbles into your hair "got you all to myself."

"I know," you say exasperated "it's just why would he do that...it's not...its..."

You don't know how to formulate your words right. It's hard to explain exactly what you saw from your perspective on the floor. A terrifying display you never want to see on Tommy's innocent face again. That look was reserved for his father, not that you were any happier seeing it on him either.

"He's been acting up...mood swings and all that" Simon sighs and shakes his head. "He's done it to me too a few times when mom and dad are fighting...I... don’t understand it. Even when dad brought that snake in, he was all giddy...I don't think he really understands," Simon confesses.

"Wait, what snake?!" you manage to pull yourself away from his arms. You stay close in his hold to keep sharing body heat, but you raise yourself on your knees so you're looking down at his face. "Your dad brought a snake into your home, to you, and he just laughed?" you sounded pissed off, and rightfully so you were. He'd never told you this before now.

"Yeah, were years ago now but..." he raises a hand, his thumb brushing over to dull marks above his lips "it bit me."

Your eyebrows furrow and you have to hold yourself back from not yelling out in frustration. You bite down on your own lip hard, and reach a hand up to gently run your fingers over the two scars in the form of dots. He closes his eyes as he feels your skin on his, let's out a shuddering breath. He always gets like this now at your touch, he always seems so affected, always positively.

In the beginning you thought it was just hormones, puberty for him now that you're both well into your teenage years. A round of "Boys will be boys," as your mother would keep saying whenever you told her how you saw the boys at school pick on the girls in the most horrendous ways.

Simon's a boy but you've never seen him be that cruel. And then you started to think it might just be you he's like this with, that to anyone else, any other girl or boy that gets close never gets to see him have this kind of reaction.

He opens his eyes and your breath catches in your throat with an ugly little sound. It makes you snort, giggling into your hand as you listen to his rumble of a chuckle. His arms snake around your waist, bring you in closer, pressing your bodies up against each other as much as can be.

He looks up at you like you're the only person in the world.

Like you're everything to him, as if you were to go his world would collapse around him. And you know it's true because you feel the same way. If he were to ever leave, you wouldn't know how to function, you wouldn't have an escape from the abuse, a person to keep you afloat when you're drowning.

You lean down a little to place a soft peck just above his lips, on the dotted scars.

You're not sure what true love is, but if you'll ever have a chance at it, it has to be this. There can be no other explanation for that glint in his eye reserved only for you.

He looks at you with pure love.

Soap looks at you expectantly. The dull sounds of the mess hall fill your ears again, you didn't even realize you zoned out. You only pray it wasn't for an unusually long time.

"We knew each other way back, before he joined the military I think." You try your best to play it off as not a big deal. As if you hadn't been in deep with him once upon an easier time. You doubted Simon would want to bring more attention to it than necessary when it came to his teammates.

"Before? Woah, can finally say ah know someone who knew the legendary ghost before he became ghost." He sounds pleased with himself. You don't understand the difference.

Like speaking of the devil himself, the tall dark figure with a mask you wanted to rip off him, emerged into the hall. It didn't turn many heads, but the way you whipped your head dramatically brought Soap's attention to him as well.

"Well...speak of the devil..." he mumbled. You could hear the smile on his lips without looking.

It's a bit late to come in for lunch, but when you think about it you didn't see him go eat with the others, while you were actively avoiding them. He would always retreat into his own room or office, like you would do.

Both you and Soap watches as he goes up to select what his lunch will be. Occasionally you glance towards Soap, observing his interest in Simon, you try to gouge at their relationship. They'd likely be good friends, having a soldier camaraderie for years now. It made you wonder if Soap would now qualify as one to know more about the boy you used to be so close with, than you do yourself.

You look back to Simon, trying to get a proper glimpse of his mask again. You have to bite back an annoyed groan when they flood your vision again.

The shadows encompass his mask all around. They block out the once dirty white with a coal black. It moves around like a mass, obscuring his face, his head taking on spiky ends, then blocky, then smooth. It makes him look like the creatures in the mirrors, the only thing left being the uncanny clear view of his eyes.

They're so visible to you that they freak you out more than the moving shadows, looking straight out of an uncomfortable picture you'd find on the internet. When he finally picks up his food and turns to your direction, your breath catches in your throat with an ugly little sound.

Soap looks at you concerned, but you wave him off quickly taking a big gulp of your water.

You look back to see exactly what you thought it was. You'd recognize that look on him anywhere from just his eyes. People say eyes are the windows to someone's soul, you don't know if you believe it for everyone else or even yourself, your eyes look so dull in the mirror, but for Simon it's the truest statement you've heard.

Despite the time apart, that look is burned into your retinas. It's been an image you clung to over the years, you last remnant of him, something to remind you of what you once had.

And he's looking towards you, like he used to do.

He's looking towards you with an expression you haven't seen in person in years.

He's looking towards you with a look of love you'd never think you'd see on his face again.

He's looking towards you with such devotion that someone like you doesn't deserve from someone like him.

You realize it too late. You glance away from Simon and look to the man sitting in front of you

He looks at you with pure love.

He's not looking at you.

Are you seriously jealous over a man you haven't seen in years?

You know it's pathetic. You know it's nonsensical. You know you shouldn't.

Yet you pace back and forth in your room, the shadows louder than they've ever been in months. They corner you in on every side, lunge out at you when you get too close to the walls. Their thousand little voices overlap in a chorus of insults.

Vile, pathetic, weak, useless, killer.

Your hands raise up to cover your ears but it does nothing to dampen the intensity. Your clothes feel too tight on your body, the air too humid, a certain place in the room burning hot with agony and shame. The little space under your bed. The bag with the letters that once brought you comfort.

They burn hot even from a distance. A rush of hot and cold going through your bloodstream. Ice beneath your skin one moment and boiling blood the next.

Did he ever even look at you like that? Wasn't it different back then? He had the dumb puppy love for you none of that was real.

"Shut up," your voices breaks in your throat and comes out a meek whisper.

Just take a look at those pathetic letters.

"No..."

Each one of them so much later than the next. Spaced out perfectly to leave you in the dark, first a week then two then a month then two months then...

"Shut it!" you shout out with the animalistic ferocity you've been taught. The shadows retract slightly, giving you more room to breathe. Normally you try to ignore the voices that go through your head, you've found answering them only encourage their absurd bait. They could taunt you all they wanted. Voices instilled by vile men in your life, repeated over and over and over and over and over.

Until they manifested themselves within your skull and refused to leave.

In a way you know the things you are seeing aren't real, but it feels so solid. All of it just your fragmented mind trying to make sense of what you were forced to see. None of it could be real.

Sometimes you think that you could actually reach out and touch them, but anytime you've tried they just retract further away from you. You've always hated how it swims in your vision, distracts you from what's actually important.

You look towards the bed, under it, the bag, the letters that almost flood out of it from where you've thrown it. They call to you, scream at you so silently. Your legs are sluggish like walking through water as they carry you there. Your fingers touching what feels like knives as you pull out the nearest letter.

The little piece of paper he left on your bed before he left for the military.

To my love, my dear little spider

You read quietly, the whisper barely even audible on your lips.

I'm sorry that I have to go. Don't fall apart without me, okay?

See you soon, your Simon

Likes, Reblogs and comments are always appreciated, love ya! <3

Taglist: @chickennn-soupp @unlikelyaperson @ghostlythots @lilynotdilly @islnd-vybz @spicyspicyliving @kaoyamamegami

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zarnzarn · 8 months ago

Text

"You used to smile more," Lamb says.

Narinder flicks a ear to dispel the flies and looks out at the fading sun. "I used to have things to smile about."

"Am I not a thing to smile about?" Lamb teases. Narinder huffs and hits them in the arm, rolling his eyes, lips quirking.

"No, not that," Lamb says, an odd note in their voice. Narinder looks over. "These smiles I know. Amused, fond small ones or half-smothered flustered ones, or smug, annoying smirks. But you used to smile big in the Gateway, remember?" They stretch their cheeks with two fingers pointedly. "All teeth!"

Narinder shrugs and turns back to the sky. "Used to."

A few beats pass. Then, in a smaller voice than Narinder has ever heard it, "Do I not make you happy?"

Narinder sighs and closes his eyes. He had guessed where the conversation was going to go, but it didn't make it any easier to navigate. "Lamb..."

"Do you not enjoy my gifts?" They demand. "My compliments, my offerings, my touch? I have tried everything, Narinder, everything. But no matter what I do, not once in three hundred springs have I gotten that same easy smile from you, my one."

"Well, demanding it isn't going to get you one," He snaps back, irritation rising.

"Well then, what is?" Lamb sits up, crossing their arms. "What can I do to make you happy, Narinder?"

"I am happy," Narinder protests.

"Are you?"

Narinder thins his lips. "I am content."

"But you're not happy," Lamb says, raw and miserable, pushing themselves up to look down at him. "I- I understand you didn't like me taking the crown, I know your pride was hurt, I know you don't like being mortal, but how long are you going to sulk over it?"

They've raised their voice by the end of the sentence, face screwed up in repressed anger, cruel in the way they spit out the accusation. Narinder vaguely feels a pang of hurt at their words, but also mostly feels a whole lot of nothing. Mild resignation, maybe.

"I mean, seriously, the other Bishops are in the same place as you, but I'm out here playing knucklebones and ring toss with my murderers, and I'm still stuck at square one with you? What the fuck, Narinder, what do you want me to do?"

"I don't know," He replies honestly. Even thinking about drudging up a smile, a fake one, makes him feel more tired than an entire month's labour ever had.

"Do you want the Red Crown, even now? Is that it? Then, here," Narinder's chest squeezes painfully at the inhale he takes when Lamb aggressively pulls the crown off their head and holds it out. "Take it. It's yours."

Narinder stares at them with wide eyes. Looks to the Crown, which looks just as taken aback as him, at the easy surrender. For a minute, fire itches behind his teeth, craving the familiar force of the Red Crown behind his movements and the joyful annihilation that came with it, the peaceful passing of souls he used to help with.

Then he remembers white, and looks away. Besides, the humiliation of being handed something won off him in fair laws out of pity was too much, even for his tattered dignity. "I do not want the crown, Lamb."

A surprised inhale. "So then what?" Their voice cracks. "What do I need to do to make you smile at me again?"

"Lamb-"

"I used to make you so happy," Lamb's voice breaks with tears. Narinder pushes himself upright in worry, painfully wondering how long they'd been holding this in. "I used to make you grin ear to ear just by being there, I used to make you laugh, you used to like my jokes and my songs and my stories and my antics, and now, even on our wedding renewals your eyes barely crinkle. What can I do, Narinder, to make you love me again?"

The wound in his chest pulses agonizingly. "I do love you, Lamb."

"How, if you're not even happy?" They demand, tears rolling down their face. "I miss you so much, Narinder, every day- because deny it or not, I remember what you were when we met, and I know i only hold a part of you now. I'm asking you again, how do I get the rest of you back?"

"I-" Narinder can't think of anything to say. Can't find the words to fix this, stop the tears.

Lamb's face falls as the silence stretches. They straighten up, out of reach. "I see."

Narinder grimaces and reaches out, missing as the other stands up and takes a step back. "Lamb."

"Never mind, then." They walk away, a hand to their face and shoulders shaking.

"LAMB!" He shouts, but they're already gone. Narinder groans and collapses back onto the grass, a hand over his eyes. He'll have to track them down later now.

How to tell them that he hadn't truly smiled since he'd fought with his siblings, all those centuries ago? That what they had seen was- sickness or madness or something, fuelled by the prospect of finally being free, of revenge, of a vessel he loved always so eager and excited to see him? That being happy was something that sat well on him, but joy had always taken over his mind and body and drove him to smile with too many teeth and burn those around him when it came?

That every time he felt happy enough to smile, all he could think of was the knife in his chest as his siblings clawed out his heart, and the axe in his ribs as the sheep he loved did the same thing again a thousand years later.

How to tell them that the only way he still could was if they weren't next to him to watch?

He knew Lamb would fall to pieces if he admitted that he thinks he could smile, had smiled, with people other than them. Their history had been messy and stained even when they first kissed, even before it had been subjected to the usual strain of a century-long relationship and Narinder had no intention of finding out whether this was the thing that finally did them in.

With a sigh, he lets go of the misery for now, resolving to find words to explain later. No need to borrow from future worries, as they say.

Still. Narinder holds a palm up against the sun, watching his fur turn brown at the edges, warming his bones. Away from others, from all the tumultuous relationships and bitter mistakes and traitorous loved ones, he smiles, properly, at the gentle light, gentle warmth. It was tiring, for the anger and shame to still have such a hold on him, after all these years.

Perhaps it was time to try harder. He had done so many impossible things in his life; how hard could loving without a heart be?

#bpd bf vs anxiety partner FIGHT #cult of the lamb #narinder #lamb #narinder x lamb #true devotion #my fic #OH YEAH ALSO. WHERE R MY NARINDER GOT HIS HEART RIPPED OUT TRUTHERS. DO NO EVIL!!!

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thelaughtercafe · 10 months ago

Text

Sell Your SOUL*

Tea Type: Coffee

Potential Triggers: Mildly dubious consent for hypnosis

Pairing: Baggs/Reader

Length: 2.7+

Summary: You are a Human who opens an Empath clinic for monster kind; giving them a safe place to let out any emotions they may be feeling. Unlike the clinical and typically detached touch of therapists, you mirrored their emotions back at them, telling them what you felt, gently whenever possible and occasionally harshly if they refused to acknowledge their pain. Alphys finally allows you to meet Baggs, the one you know let them be released in the first place and you find yourself enraptured...he's just as curious about you. Oops. So much for keeping your distance. An interested doctor is a determined one. Hopefully it'll pay off.

After all...

Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.

It didn't take him long to notice. You tried though.

God, did you try.

You did everything possible to avoid looking at him when he did it. Actually, it was more like you found an excuse to leave altogether the second it began happening.

Becoming friends with monsters was something that came easily to you, being an Empath. Feeling others' pains and helping them through it in any way you could was what you were used to, and loved doing and none needed it more than Monsters when they came to the Surface. While Humans didn’t even consider Empaths real, Monsters had informed you it was actually a well-known and documented form of healing magic that Human’s once possessed long ago. With their help and support you'd even managed to open your own little practice, mainly catering to Monsterkind. Toriel has been the gateway to meeting everyone, but they all had such pain hidden within that you tried to help with. General had been no exception, nor had Undyne, Asgore or Alphys. Alphys...was how you ended up meeting him and experiencing his ability first hand.

-----

Instantly a chill went up your spine. A subconscious warning from your intuition that you should be careful, despite Alphys' introduction.

"Th-This is Baggs! He's really only allowed here for research, a-a-and his home of course, which is w-why you've never met him before on our outings, but t-truth be told, I'd say he spends more time here than home. Always hard at w-work on some e-e-experiment."

Her voice was light and chipper, but you'd come to know her well enough to see the signs of discomfort, the slight tremble of her voice, the stutter that slipped out here and there, and, perhaps most notably, the way she was very carefully avoiding looking Baggs in the eye, despite the skeleton looking directly at her

"I'll l-leave you two to get acquainted and make some tea and snacks alright? I'll be j-j-just in the other room!"

A warning for him and a reassurance for you.

Ouch.

You winced at the literal sting that went to your SOUL, quick and barely there as you pasted on a smile and nodded at her.

"Sure thing, Alph. I'm sure we'll be fine. I'm not worried."

She smiled despite it trembling at the edges and you felt her relax some before she was gone in a swish of fabric.

"not worried? heh. that's cute, for someone who hasn't deigned to meet my gaze yet. scared, little human?"

You weren't sure what you expected his voice to sound like but it certainly wasn't that. Dark, inviting, damn near on the cusp of being outright seductive while somehow still emanating danger.

You shivered and he snickered again.

You swallowed hard, and then you met his gaze, pushing through the shivers you'd just gotten and instead focusing on the pain you felt coming off of him in waves.

"Actually, I was just waiting for you to introduce yourself. I guess I should've gone first though, huh? Sorry. I'm pretty shy on first meetings, the lack of eye contact has to do with that, not because of what you did. If I was scared I wouldn't be here at all."

His expression didn't change but you felt how he was slightly taken aback, then the apprehension and finally the slight twinge of mischievous glee just beneath the surface.

You withdrew your Empathy just a tad. You didn't like going deep into what everyone was feeling without their permission, but you'd accidentally let your guard go up thanks to nervousness.

His eyes were just as pretty as you'd heard. Pink glowed vibrantly from his left eye as he drew closer, smile unflinching.

"you're certainly quite bold for a human. heh heh. or maybe just naive judging by that adorable blush on your cheeks."

You looked away briefly to try and collect yourself, huffing as you realized he was right. You were so focused on feeling your cheeks and calming yourself down you didn't even register your SOUL had been gently pulled from your chest until its purple glow was in front of you.

"hm. that explains it then. but what's-"

His browbones went down in concentration and confusion as he attempted to reach for your SOUL but you were already reacting, swiftly pulling it back into your chest protectively.

"No! I-please. Don't."

His once mildly friendly demeanor had turned to full on mistrust and you could see it from the blue starting to swirl in his left eye socket without any need for your Empathy.

"what are you hiding, little human?"

You merely shook your head, retreating slowly towards the door but you yelped as it abruptly closed without any input that you could see, whirling to see it slam.

You heard a whistle and when you jerked back, Baggs waved the remote with an eerie grin.

Oh, how the tables had turned.

"No offense, sir, but my SOUL isn't any of your business."

His smile widened, yet somehow he only seemed more menacing despite the even, soothing steps he took towards you. They echoed, perfectly in sync and never faltering. His tone sounded genuine but you could feel the underlying condescension and mocking.

"well that's not very nice of you, now is it? i thought you wanted to be friends. i'm merely curious. perhaps i can even help "

You gasped as your back hit the door and he easily caught your chin between his phalanges, and tilted your head to make you look at him, blue and pinknow both swirling evidently in his left eye. his voice was a purr.

"and please, do call me baggs. i much prefer to be referred to with the appropriate amount of reverence when that name is used, and i’ve no doubt you will use it…but not quite yet."

You felt...oddly heavy and the urge to squirm and shiver was palpable. What was happening? You knew you needed to look away, you had to, or else he was going to-

Well, what was the worst he could do? Alphys was just in the other room after all. She'd hear you if anything bad happened. Besides, Baggs was nice. He was handsome. He just wanted to help.

Why were you being so resistant again?

Resistant? Now why would you do that? Baggs was your friend. Don't you confide in your friends?

You searched for something, anything.

Grasped, struggled, for something to lock on to.

Something to feel-

Pure, sadistic, addictive, control

You awoke out of your trance with a gasp violently breaking away from Baggs' grip on your chin before cradling your head, hands shaking, eyes slammed shut and face turned away.

"Don't do that a-again."

You chattered a little, still shivering from the aftershocks of ecstacy forced into you. At least he hadn’t forced you to do anything.

"guess everyone is scared of something after all, hm? pity. i think you're cute when you're all helpless like that, you know. even scared as you are now you're adorable."

Your face lit in flame and the words were the spark you needed to lunge for the door again with a gasp, suddenly recalling the manual switch on the side and nearly bolting out in your haste.

When did you forget? Just how long had he been in your head?

Baggs' alluring laughter followed you all the way to the exit, as did his final words to you.

"see you soon, little human."

-----

Despite your...intense first meeting he hadn't made any effort to antagonize you since when you began seeing him again. He acted as if nothing had happened in fact, merely smiling your way and returning to chatting with Toriel nearby as if you'd had a normal meeting.

Alphys, the only other person who knew vaguely what had happened, as she’d ran out after you, merely sighed.

"A word of advice from someone who's k-known him and worked with him. Don't let him get to you. Or at least, don't let h-h-him know he's g-gotten to you. And...try not to let him do it a-again. It'll just-"

Her voice had quieted conspiratorially with every sentence but she was cut off as familiar bony arms latched around both of your shoulders.

"It'll just what, al?"

His voice was bright but you felt the anger ebbing off him in waves and Alphys abruptly smiled shakily, turning to him in an attempt to not seem afraid.

"you wouldn't happen to be talking about me would ya? haven't ya ever heard-"

"Actually, sounds to me like you misunderstood. You're not interesting enough to warrant talking about Baggs, hate to break it to you. We were talking about a game character. Jeez, are you always so self-centered~?"

Your tone was teasing but your light glare of warning for him trying to frighten Alphys into silence was evident. He didn't seem concerned.

"with a face this handsome? can ya really blame me? anyway, what game? sounds fun."

Alphys was sweating nervously, staring at you wide-eyed but you were quick on your feet.

"Nathan Prescott from Life is Strange. It's choice based, so it's important to not let him know he gets to you or frightens you when he defaces your room in game with a threat. After all, what good is a threat if you don't let yourself be affected by it?"

His eyes lit up then, and you swore you saw his swirl start up, along with the growl that left his lips but Alphys distracted you both by pulling you away.

"Speaking of, I just remembered! We forgot to save! Come on, before Undyne changes the game without realizing!"

You were so proud of her for not stuttering that you missed the swirling eyes following your exit, before he looked down at the object clutched in his digits.

Your phone was held in his grasp, his grin widening as he noticed you didn't have a password.

silly girl.

-----

It didn't take you long to realize your phone was missing, and you told Alphys to go on ahead, and that you'd hang with her later on in the week. Papyrus' car was gone by the time you made it back so he must've gone to drop Toriel and Frisk back home Of course it'd started raining so you were damn near soaked as you knocked.

A few moments later the door opened to a surprised, and then amused Baggs.

"back so soon? told you I was irresistible."

You shook your head, shivering a bit more intensely, making Baggs' eyes immediately scan your body before he grew business-like and moved to walk away.

"come inside, i will make you something warm and then you may take a hot shower. i shall lend you some of my clothes so you do not get sick."

You blinked and then hesitantly entered and nodded, just as you sneezed. Better trust him than get sick right? He was a doctor. He'd been bearable lately; maybe your first meeting had just been a test and you'd passed?

By the time you reached the kitchen he was already setting down a steaming mug in front of you.

"i'll go and get my clothes together. sit tight, and be sure to drink that entirely. it would be a pity if your stubbornness made you ill."

You watched him turn and leave before looking down at the drink in your hands, contemplative. A sip confirmed it was tea, sweet, somehow just as you took it. Paps must've told him about how you always had a mug in your hand. The slight tingle as it went down your throat confirmed it must've been a tea infused with monster magic, which you attributed to be the reason for the extra sweet aftertaste as well. You continued to drink as you let your thoughts take you.

Perhaps General had been right. He'd sensed your nervousness when you'd next seen Baggs while baking cookies with him and had reassured you that his brother was just untrusting of people he didn't know but would warm quickly. Maybe you'd been wrong to be so scared. The propaganda was everywhere; warning of his danger and perhaps you'd taken some of it in subconsciously.

You stifled a yawn and inhaled sharply as when you went to stand and move you swayed; making you grip the table tightly. Familiar fear rushed to the forefront of your mine, one you were used to having around Humans but never with monsters. No. He couldn't have-

"you alright there pet? you're looking a little pale."

His worry was evident and you couldn't help the slight tone of accusation as you sluggishly looked towards him, still not able to move, even as a pleasant shiver shot down your spine at the new nickname..

"What was in that tea?"

He blinked, before a slow smile broke across his face and he casually strode over.

"just a little something to calm you down. the warmth will spread through your system faster if you're calm."

"Why didn't you tell me first then? Or better yet ask? You have to know how this makes you look."

Fuck. Your words were slurring a little, your lips tingling in an almost numb, but not quite way. Everything felt so…hazy.

"how what looks? Giving my shivering friend a warm drink and tucking her into bed, so I know she's safe? it's not as if I drugged you. even small doses of my magic can help soothe. I suppose I overestimated how much you could take, human."

He chuckled, his amusement evident, but you swore you detected worry in his eyes.

"i doubt you can take a shower in this state. come. i'll give you my clothes, leave you to change and then get you settled."

"But- I have to go home."

You tried to protest, struggling to think clearly.

"well, I'm not letting you leave in this state. i'd walk you home if I could but...heh. pretty sure my bro would lose it if i left and he found out later I played hooky. best give in."

You frowned at that, glaring at him as you made to move towards the door.

"Good thing it's not your choice then-"

You were cut off as you were whirled to face him when he grabbed your arm, your equilibrium way off as you struggled to focus on the skeleton in front of you. By the time you realized you were looking directly into his eyes it was too late. That feeling from last time washed over you, blue joining the magenta and spiraling outward. You couldn't deny you felt oddly...safe, and the feeling of his phalanges carding through your hair as you slumped into him was nice.

Baggs is safe, Baggs won't hurt me. Why...am I so tired?

"that's it, good girl. doesn't it feel nicer when you give in?"

Feels...nice. Sleepy. Safe.

You nodded weakly, your filter which would typically make you deny on instinct completely gone. You blushed at your admission and felt Baggs chuckle beside your ear.

"you really do fall quickly for me. how curious. come, let's get you into bed, hm?"

You felt yourself moving and when you all but crumbled into the bed after quickly changing into clothes you didn't bother looking at, you were out like a light to the soothing feeling of bone carding through your hair.

You didn't even hear his parting words before slipping off into unconsciousness.

"what was that you said? what good is a threat if you don't let yourself be affected by it? i think you're right, pet. actions speak louder than words, wasn't that the analogy?"

-----

A/N: There's the first chapter, finally out into the world! So, funnily enough; I've had this fic near done for 2 years now, but just been petrified to publish it for some reason. I think I was panicking over not nailing Baggs as a character well enough, in particular, as well as the way he speaks. Still, I'm glad it's out there now and I can start working on the second chapter- I really hope you all enjoy it!

Please do tell me what you thought; it keeps me writing and motivated as an author!

This fic and also be found at https://archiveofourown.org/works/47766418/chapters/120411676

The amazing (and flustering) Megalosomnia belongs to @megalommi! Please go and shower her in love and adoration <3 This fic would not exist without her!

This is a fic set after Megalosomnia's characters have reached the surface. It's very much non-canon! I don't even believe the creator has brainstormed this portion yet so this is all just me spitballing and having fun with it!

#female reader #tlc: fic #sans x reader #sans x you #baggs x you #baggs x reader #megalosomnia #megalosomnia au #tlc: milk tea #undertale sans #undertale #sans #dr baggs #dr baggs x reader #dr baggs x you #tlc: nsft #tw hypnosis #tw dubcon #tw dubious consent

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