#blank and mute mc

[sharieb]

Held in the Hollowed Fragments 3: The Ones Who Fade pt 1

Genre: Angst (not proofread)

Pairing: LADs x MC (Still a non-Mc fanfic, but this chapter is in MC's pov for the plot)

Word count: +2k

Writer's notes: Hey everyone! Welcome to this chapter of this series. This chapter will be divided into 2 parts and will focus on getting a glimpse of the guys' behaviour through MC's pov. I tried to keep the boys as original as possible but also display the turmoil that simmers within them through their day, so I hope you all enjoy.

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The rain had followed her all morning, clinging to her coat like sorrow. It tapped quietly on the windows of the Hunters Association building, whispering like an omen. MC stepped inside, brushing droplets from her shoulders. The Hunters Association was quieter than usual. The usual hum of chatter and footsteps was muted, shadows hanging heavier in the corners.

Lately, something’s been off with one of the boys, from what others have been telling her. Everyone says he has not been himself lately. And it’s been days. No matter how much others try to reach out, it feels like they are chasing shadows and hitting dead ends. She needs to visit him, needs to see him face-to-face. She won't give up until she somehow pulls him back from whatever’s holding him down. She owes him that much.

As MC sat at her usual post behind her desk in front of the computer screen, her eyes flickering from data to him, Xavier. He’s hunched over his desk, pale light painting shadows beneath, his fingers hovered over the keyboard, still as his eyes, repeatedly scanning the same line on his report like it holds some secret he can’t quite grasp. His usual quiet sweetness is masked by a distant, colder edge, and his restless eyelids betray how little sleep he’s gotten—probably from those damned nightmares again.

She approaches Xavier, who didn't look up, as MC tries to keep her tone light but gentle. “Xavier, you’ve been stuck on that page for twenty minutes. Maybe it’s time to step away for a bit?”

He doesn’t look up, voice low and clipped. “Can’t. There’s too much to do. Need to refine the data.”

“You’re staring at a blank field.”

That made him stop. Not because she was wrong, but because she noticed. He closed his eyes, dragging a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply.

“I’ll get it done. Just… give me a minute.”

She frowns, sensing the strain beneath her partner's words. “You don’t have to carry it all alone. I’m here, you know.”

He finally meets her eyes, exhaustion flickering through his usual calm. “I’m fine. Just... tired.”

MC wanted to say more. Offer warmth and comfort. But the words felt like stones in her mouth, heavy and misplaced. So she nodded and sat beside him, letting the silence do what words couldn’t. Soon, Captain Jenna came over to where they both sat and handed them their mission for today before sending them off.

While out on the field, the duo found themselves in the middle of a fight with wanderers. As MC fought, she noticed a change in how Xavier moved—usually his movements were so sharp and precise—but today his steps were heavier, his reactions just a bit slower. It’s like the weight of those sleepless nights and haunting dreams is dragging him down. Even during the fierce battle, the distance in his eyes is hard to miss. Once the fight was over and they started to head back, MC softly nudged Xavier's arm. "Hey… you sure you're okay? You’ve been zoning out all day. Thought maybe we could grab hot pot or something. Your treat, of course."

Xavier paused for a moment and looked over to MC. He gave her a tired smile, even though his gaze still appeared distant, with the smile not reaching his eyes.

"Heh… tempting." His voice lowers, eyes now shifted back to the ground. "But… not tonight. I’m—" Xavier exhales, running a hand through his hair, shoulders slumping "—just really tired. Think I’m just gonna head back home and get some more sleep." MC frowned and try to get a read off of Xavier as she knew how much Xavier loved a good hotpot after a long mission.

"Xavier, this isn't like you. You've been off for days. Talk to me, please."

Xavier looked at MC for a moment, contemplating if he should talk to her about what was going on in his head, in his dreams, but the tiredness and then unusual night of insomnia he suffered with for the past couple of days got the best of him in the end.

"It's nothing, MC. Just tired. That's all." His voice was almost a whisper, nearly audible as he walked past her, down the sidewalk.

"Just really tired."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

MC decided to visit Rafayel at Mo Art Studio. As she entered, the scent of turpentine and old canvas clung to the walls.

His space used to be full of life — beautiful colours, wet brushes in jars, half-finished portraits leaning against every surface. Now, it looked more like a graveyard of ideas. The floor was scattered with torn sketches, overturned paint bottles, crumpled rags, and a drying canvas smeared with abandoned strokes.

MC stepped in carefully. “You’ve redecorated,” she joked gently.

He was sitting on the floor, legs sprawled, a paintbrush twirling in his fingers like a cigarette. His shirt was stained and hanging loose off one shoulder, hair a bit of a mess, but somehow still intentional. That flair never left him — even now.

“I call it: ‘Melancholy in Eight Shades of Beige,’” he muttered. “It’s performance art. Very exclusive.”

She knelt beside him. “Want to tell me what happened?”

He sighed, dramatically, dragging his hands down his face. “My muse has left me. Again. And this time, I don’t think it's coming back. I’ve stared at that canvas for hours, and all I managed was a panic attack and three broken brushes.”

“Four,” she corrected, pointing to the one snapped behind him.

He huffed, somewhere between a laugh and a groan. “Ugh, tragic. I’m a disaster.”

“No,” she said softly, “you’re just stuck. It happens.”

He looked at her then, eyes tired but still burning with something deep. “Yeah… just stuck, I guess. Nothing’s coming out right.”

MC offers a small smile, “Maybe a break? Or a walk on the beach? Sometimes stepping back helps.” He shrugs but doesn’t argue, eyes still distant. The air feels heavy, like the frustration is settling deep in him. MC notices Rafael’s usual flair is dimmed, his voice lacking its usual sass as he mutters,

“I’m fine… just a bit stuck, nothing more.”

That quieter tone sets off alarm bells for her. She leans in, voice gentle but probing,

“Raf, this isn’t like you. What’s really going on?” But he just shrugs, eyes flickering away, shutting her out with that distant, closed-off look she’s never quite seen before.

“You’re always popping up whenever I’m trying to work, huh?” His voice had that usual edge, but today it lacked its usual bite — more tired than annoyed.

MC raised an eyebrow, watching him carefully. “You don’t sound like yourself. What’s going on?”

He gave a short, almost bitter laugh. “Maybe I’m just out of ideas. Or maybe the ideas have outpaced me. Either way, it’s... draining.” His usual sassy grin was gone, replaced by a distant look that didn’t reach his eyes.

MC stepped closer, softer now. “You don’t have to face it alone.”

Raphael’s eyes flickered, a moment of vulnerability breaking through. “It’s not about facing it. It’s about not knowing how to keep up.”

He turned back to the canvas, but the paintbrush trembled slightly in his hand, betraying his tired mind. Rafayel soon placed the paintbrush down with a sigh and a tired smirk, shaking his head. “Thomas has been on my case nonstop about the next exhibit. He keeps pushing for new work, new ideas. Honestly, I’m running on empty.”

He glanced at MC, voice softer but firm. “I appreciate you dropping by, but maybe give me some space to breathe. I need to focus before I lose it completely.” Soon, MC reluctantly granted his wishes as she steps back quietly, sensing the weariness beneath his sass, and lets him be, giving space without pushing too hard. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was the weekend when MC visited the Akso Hospital to see Zayne during his break. Even though the hospital tends to be hectic on some days, Today in particular, the place was really busy and tense due to the large flow of patients coming in and even that didn't stop some of the nurses and doctors, who knew her from giving her uneasy glances.

“Dr. Zayne's… tense today,” Yvonne whispered. “Snapped at three interns already. Might not be the best time, MC. Just a heads up.”

MC thanked Yvonne and went in anyway and made her way down the sterile halls of the facility to Zayne's office. Under the dim glow of Zayne's office, he sat slumped in a cracked vinyl chair, eyes closed but mind racing. The endless beeping of monitors and distant echoes of hurried footsteps seeped through the walls, relentless as the weight settling deep in his chest.

When she entered, he didn’t turn to see who came in. “If you're here to check on me for the fifth time, Greyson, don’t. Not now.”

Just as he spoke, the air thickened, a sharp cold creeping through the room like a frozen breath. MC notices but says nothing at first, just watches him with concern.

“I’m not. Just passing through.”

His eyes flash icy for a moment before they soften a bit at the sight of MC. He sighs, visibly forcing the chill back into control, rubbing his temples like he’s fighting to stay steady.

“Sorry, didn’t see you there… It’s just been a rough few shifts, and I wasn’t thinking straight.”

"I can tell. You're more snappy than usual, Dr. Zayne."

MC replies as she steps quietly into the office and sits in the chair in front of Zayne's desk, a delicate box of macarons clutched in her hands. MC recalls Dr.Greyson's words, while making her way to Zayne's office, on how relentless Zayne's shifts had been—back-to-back, no room for rest. This was his first real break in what felt like forever.

And yet, he sat hunched over a tablet, eyes bloodshot but fixed on the screen, fingers scrolling through endless reports and surgical notes even now. The room felt colder than usual, the hum of the fluorescent lights pressing down on them both. "I brought your favourite,” she said, holding up a paper bag, holding a box of macaroons from the café they both loved. “Still warm.”

Usually, the moment he saw the macaroons, he’d pause to grab one—his small, sweet refuge amid chaos. But today, he barely glanced at the box.

“No thanks,” he muttered, not looking up.

MC hid her surprise at Zayne's unexpected rejection of having sweets for once. MC hesitated, not knowing what to do now as she set the box down beside him.

“You don’t have to push so hard,” she said softly. “Even the greatest fighters need a break.”

He let out a breath like a knife scraping over glass. “Not yet,” he said, voice tight. “There’s no time.”

MC didn’t respond right away. Instead, she sat quietly beside him, the macaroons untouched between them. Her phone buzzed softly with incoming messages—little updates from the others, Yvonne, Greyson, even Dr. Noah, checking in or dropping quiet remarks about Zayne. Every mention of his name came with the same strained tone. Not judgment. Not envy. Just… concern. As if they, too, had noticed the subtle shift in him. The growing coldness. The apparent distance.

She looked at him again—really looked—and spoke gently. “You don't have to be here all alone, struggling, Zayne."

That finally made him pause. His fingers stopped moving. Slowly, he turned to meet her eyes. Tired. Sharp. Haunted. Eyes that looked past scalpels and blood, that had seen death and refused to blink. He kept hearing those words for the past few days from everyone was if they were broken records to the point it was getting on his last nerve.

“Don’t make this harder than it is,” he snapped. It came quick and edged, like a reflex he couldn’t control, more defence than malice.

MC blinked at the sudden sting, but steadied herself, holding his gaze. “I’m just trying to help.”

“Help,” he echoed, and this time the word dripped with quiet bitterness. “That’s a luxury I can’t afford.”

The silence that followed settled between them like frost—unmelting, undeniable.

Still, she didn’t leave. Her presence, quiet and unmoving, was the only warmth in the frozen room.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I'm stopping this part of the chapter here for now and starting the second part of the section very soon. As you all already know, this is just an ooc version of the LIs based on the previous chapters, so their personality and reaction to situations like these won't be entirely accurate to how they might have reacted. Besides that, thank you all once again for reading, and shout-outs to everyone who likes, reblogs, and comments on my content. I deeply appreciated your support, even if it seems small to you all.

taglist: @plzdonutpercieveme

[pampushky]

Teaser: My Name Is Brutus (And My Name Means Heavy)

Alpha! Lando Norris/Omega! Lauda! Reader

oooo what's this?? me dropping a juicy little teaser of probably one of my favorite things I've written??

so. this is basically an ABO au with a race engineer & lauda mc, with the wonderful trope of enemies to lovers thrown in, as you will soon see from the scene I'm releasing a bit early.

other things about the fic: slow, and i mean fucking slow, burn. exploration of what disabilities would look like in the ABO world (especially centered around the sense of smell and how that could be considered a disability if someone doesn't have one in a world where most things are communicated by smell), societal pressures about what the ideal alpha/omega/beta should look like to the rest of the world which leads to Lando making assumptions about MC's secondary gender/sex, mentions of past emotional & mental abuse, PTSD, scarring, and worries about self-worth. Oh. and obvious hurt/comfort. But again, and I cannot emphasize this enough. Slow. Fucking. Burn.

uhhh i guess i'll do a tag list too for this so. tell me if you wanna be on that.

“I do have… issues, with the way you run things here,” you scratch your claw into the wood of the table, a low rumble in your throat. The scent blockers you have on are distracting to Lando. He wonders, briefly, what your scent is like, when it’s not so medicinal. “You need more discipline. Less media. It makes you seem… soft.”

“Soft?” Lando leans forward, tilting his head. You look back at him with your constantly blank stare, a slight frown on your lips, icy eyes that challenge even the Lauda death stare. “What do you mean?” You hesitate, looking to Zak and Andrea, who both gesture for you to continue. You then look at Oscar, who bites his lip and makes eye contact with you, and shrugs softly, as if permitting you to say whatever you were about to say.

“....you will take offense to what I’m about to say, I’m warning you.”

“Please, I’ll be fine,” Lando waves it off, grinning lazily. His nose twitches. The heavily medicinal smell of your scent blockers is getting to him. Do you truly need to cover your scent that much? Are you worried that he’ll act aggressively because you’re also an Alpha?

“.... no. You won’t. I’ve seen your interviews.” You say dryly, and fold your arms. Lando balks. 

“I beg you pardon?”

“You don’t take criticism well.”

“I take it just fine!” Lando shoots back, feeling himself starting to get frustrated. Why did you have to wear them? Even if you are an Alpha, the medication provided by the FIA should be more than enough to keep anyone’s tempers from flaring.

“Then you won’t throw a hissy fit when I list out all my problems with the way you work?” 

Your tone is icy. Even. Perfectly calculated. 

“Oh, you know I want to hear about your issues with me,” Lando slams his hands down onto the table, and you just raise an eyebrow at him. He’s down to his undershirt, his fireproofs hanging at his waist as you stare at him. “So say it! Don’t hold back!”

Andrea just massages his temples as Zak looks like he wants to be anywhere else. 

“Only if you don’t throw a tantrum when I’m right.” You state, examining your nails from where you sit, as though this is boring for you. Monotonous and icy-calm. 

Lando hates your voice. Specifically how robotic and monotone it sounds. What little he knows about you— which is as much as the rest of the world, with how private the Lauda family is— is that you apparently have some vocal chord and brain damage. Nothing substantial enough to impede your thought process or the way you speak to make you mute, but enough to have caused the monotonous way you talk. A small enough problem that Lando doesn’t feel like a total dick for what he’s about to say.

“Oh, just fucking say it, you robotic bitch!”

That gets your attention. You pause, slowly bring your hand down, and look at him. With the classic, terrifying Lauda glare. Your eyes pierce his soul, and for a second, just a second, Lando considers apologizing. Tucking his tail between his legs, his ears folded back. But then, he remembers who he is, and he meets your glare with his own, lips drawn back to bare his teeth....

[my-soul-sings]

the days of us: ch 12 - the days ahead

Fandom: Love and Deepspace Characters: Zayne, Caleb and MC Genres: Family, Comedy, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Angst

Summary: The three were pretty much inseparable, until it was time to say goodbye.

// A collection of stories about Caleb, Zayne and MC until they part ways.

ch 1 | ch 2 | ch 3 | ch 4 | ch 5 | ch 6 | ch 7 | ch 8 | ch 9 | ch 10 | ch 11 | ch 12 (end)

*See replies to this post for the AO3 link.

+++++++++++++

Zayne was no stranger to the first days of school by now. 

He was standing in front of the class, a sea of blank faces staring back at his own, and he kept his chin up and eyes straight ahead by devoting and compressing his vision to a single point at the wall at the back of the classroom. The teacher had a hand on his shoulder, a gesture that probably should have been comforting but which he found mildly disconcerting; it was a crushing pressure that kept his heels rooted to the floor. Despite the urge to hunch his shoulders forward to relieve himself of some of that weight, Zayne kept his back straight. His parents had always reminded him not to slouch; that a good first impression mattered. 

Not that it would really make a difference where first impressions were concerned, for him at least. Zayne couldn’t quite make out the expressions on his new classmates’ faces since he wasn’t actually looking at them, but he could already imagine that it would be no different from the other times he had been introduced to his new classes after skipping a few grades. 

He remembered seeing skepticism and disdain applied thickly on the faces of the older students, eyeing him like he had infiltrated their ranks for no good reason. He remembered hearing whispers along the hallways or in huddled groups when they thought they were out of earshot, talking about how he must be an arrogant prick, that he acted like he was above them just because he was smart. 

Zayne didn’t think it would be any different this time, just because he was in a different city now. He would simply have to maintain a stiff upper lip, pretend he was blind, deaf and mute, and keep his head down and study. After all, his goal here wasn’t to make friends. He was here to get the results he needed to get into medical school. 

“This is why you don’t have any friends, Zayne-oppa.”

A memory. He leaned into the comforting warmth of it, over the teacher’s droning in the background. 

MC pointed to his mouth, her index finger poking at the corner of his lips. 

Zayne gently pushed her wrist away, turning his head discreetly to breathe out into his palm. 

He sniffed at the air briefly, before asking with a confused frown, “...Does my breath stink?”

Caleb snorted as he laughed from the couch, tossing his game console aside and leaping off to join MC in the Tease-Zayne-Oppa party. 

“You’re so silly!” she giggled, shaking her head and mimicking his earlier actions to make fun of him. 

Zayne didn’t take any offense at that, but he did take offense at the way Caleb was laughing so hard he had folded himself in half on the floor. 

“I wasn’t trying to make a joke,” Zayne explained seriously, a line which only ever made the pair take him even less seriously. 

“That’s the problem,” Caleb managed out eventually when his laughing fit died down and he was able to sit up cross-legged on the floor again. He rubbed at his abdomen which was probably sore, while trying to catch his breath. “You’re just so serious all the time.”

“Yeah,” MC agreed a little too enthusiastically for Zayne’s liking as she clinged to his leg like a koala bear, “if you were one of the dwarves in Snow White, you’d be the grumpy one!” 

“I’m not grumpy,” Zayne objected, trying his best to suppress the scowl threatening to form on his lip. “But I’ve been told that I’m boring.”

“You’re not boring,” Caleb protested this time, and pointed to the wide grin on his face. “You just don’t do enough of this.”

“Laugh and make fun of people?”

“Smile. Geez hyung, you must be pretty bad at Charades.” 

“I only smile when there’s reason to,” Zayne said. “And I haven’t played Charades before.”

MC brightened up, her hand shooting up in the air like a rocket. “Ooh, I wanna play!” 

“After you finish your homework,” Zayne gently reminded her, which earned him a sulking pout and an exclamation that he was “no fun”.

He glanced over at Caleb, who was now hinting heavily to him by drawing a crescent shape on his face with his index finger. 

Reluctantly, Zayne forced a smile at MC. “Please?” 

She was not impressed. “Zayne-oppa, you look kinda creepy. I prefer it when you smile like you normally do.”

Zayne sent Caleb a pointed look, as if to say: see? This is why I don’t fake smiles. 

Caleb sighed, shaking his head. “It’s not that hard, you know. Just think of something that makes you happy. Like, I don’t know, chocolate? Macarons?” 

“Chocolate macarons?” MC chimed in, very helpfully.

“Eating those makes me happy, not just thinking about them,” Zayne countered. He knew he was being deliberately obtuse, but he just didn’t want to lose the argument here. He just didn’t see the point in it; smiling and acting friendly towards people whom he would only see around for the next year or so. Besides, if his classmates were going to be mean or nasty to him anyway, he’d prefer the way things were over having them smile in his face while wielding knives behind their backs. 

When he noticed Caleb staring, he added, “I’m fine without friends anyway.” 

“But, aren’t we your friends?” MC asked, looking confused. 

“You’re different,” he quickly said, in case she took it the wrong way. “You and Caleb are different.”

“How are we different?” 

“For starters, you didn’t hate me before you got to know me.” 

“Because you were nice to us,” Caleb interjected. To illustrate his point, he continued, holding out his fingers as he counted. “You made the snow seals and cats for MC, and you helped me with homework. You make shaved ice for us on demand. You’re a walking air-conditioner in the summer. And you smile a lot here. Less in the beginning because you were shy but now you’re always smiling.” 

“That’s— That’s because…” Zayne’s voice trailed off as he struggled to think of a way to put it in words. 

Then when he was finally able to put it into words, the words remained unspoken.

After all, it felt embarrassing to admit that they were the reason he could smile every day now. 

“I’m just saying— it’d be easier to make people want to be your friend if you looked more friendly,” Caleb said with a shrug. 

“Yeah, Caleb-oppa’s always smiling at all the girls, that’s why they all have a huuuuuuuuge crush on him.”

That offhand comment from MC had Caleb’s face bursting into red-hot flames and he leaped to his feet immediately, sputtering that there was no such thing and that he didn’t care if anyone had a crush on him anyway. 

Zayne didn’t really understand the outburst and just watched the argument unfold like a movie, listening to MC start singing about various people and Caleb in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g, and wondering exactly how MC’s comment could be worse than when she called him a creep just minutes ago. 

“...introduce yourself?” 

Zayne felt a nudge on his shoulder. Startled, he glanced up to the teacher who was now smiling at him, and nodding in the general direction of the rest of the class. 

Oh, right. Introductions. 

He had rehearsed this so many times that he wondered if this was how preparing for job interviews in the future would be like. Clearing his throat uncomfortably, Zayne allowed his eyes to roam over the faces of his new classmates. For the most part they looked bored and indifferent, and the ache in his knees indicated that the teacher had spent far too much time yapping about things no one cared about. 

As he opened his mouth to speak, Zayne hesitated. His heart began to race as his cheeks flushed, suddenly acutely aware that all eyes in the room were trained on him and that this was it: his do or die. The defining moment that would determine whether or not he lived the rest of his school days the exact same way as before, or if things would finally be different for once. 

Fear crept up his body like vines, constricting his chest tightly and turning his breaths shallow. What if he messed up? What if they didn’t like him? What if they were worse than his classmates back in Linkon? 

But then he remembered: Caleb’s smile, which always felt as warm as the sun, and MC’s laugh, which chimed like light bells in the summer breeze.

His only two friends. His best friends.

They had found something to like in him, so surely that had to count for something, didn’t it?   

Eventually, he spoke, and the words came out more confident than he felt at that moment. 

“Nice to meet you. I’m Zayne.”

The fears flushed and melted away, and the boy felt a light, but decidedly not unpleasant, ache in his cheekbones. 

It was a fresh start, and he would do his best to make it count, even if they weren’t here with him anymore. 

+++++++++++++

All things considered, Caleb should have been happy. 

After Zayne left, things went back to the way they used to be. He would wake up in the mornings, drag MC out of bed so she could brush her teeth and get ready for school, and he’d do the same. They would head out to school together, go through classes for the day, then head back home together. Maybe they would stop by the playground to play with the kids, maybe they would get into a fight if the usual bullies in the neighbourhood were up to no good again, but they’d go back home, take a shower, do some homework, maybe take a nap, and also have fun together. 

Sometimes they would pretend to go treasure hunting at home and snoop around Grandma’s things, flipping through and acting as if they understood the thick textbooks she had in her study. On other days they would experiment with their Evol when Grandma wasn’t looking. He would make things fly around MC, or use his Evol on her and laugh when she got angry. Sometimes MC would strike back with a prank, but on the days when she was especially irritable (usually from hunger), she would go straight to Grandma and cry about him being a “big stupid meanie”.

All was right with the universe again. It was just him and her, and no one else. There was no one else vying for MC’s attention, no one to rival him at being the best oppa in the world. 

Caleb should have been happy. 

And he was happy. Sort of. 

It had been a month since Zayne left, and it was one of those days when he and MC were on the way home from the playground. Because she was sleepy, he was now giving her a piggy-back ride home, and he could feel her nodding off on his shoulder. Still, that didn’t stop either of them from reminiscing and feeling sad today — a day that felt colder than most. 

“I miss Zayne- oppa.” 

“Hm?” He turned his head to look back at her, and noticed the pout on her lips from the corner of his eye. 

Turning back to face the path that led straight home, he nodded. “Yeah. I miss him too.” 

It had been a month. A month of an additional empty chair at the dining table, a month of not having a mediator around when he and MC got into one of their usual spats, and a month without any bad jokes that made them either laugh out loud from surprise and incredulity or cringe with wrinkled noses. 

Caleb didn’t want to admit it, but on some afternoons, he had even found himself absent-mindedly wandering out to the porch, waiting for Zayne to show up, until he remembered that Zayne had already left. 

Caleb should have been happy, but he wasn’t. Zayne was the person to go to when he didn’t know how to do his homework, and the person who would give him his share of the last snack when there wasn’t enough for all three of them. Zayne was the one who made Caleb feel like it was okay to be like MC occasionally. 

And now, he was gone, whisked off far, far away to Skyhaven.

“I wanna visit him,” MC said in Caleb’s ear, bringing him out of his thoughts. “Do you think he’s lonely in Skyhaven?” 

“Hmm. He should have made some friends in school by now.” It came out a little more forced than he wanted it to. Caleb honestly didn’t know how likely that would be, given Zayne’s history as the friendless nerd in school. He just hoped Zayne wasn’t having too rough a time there — he would gladly go over there and beat up whoever he had to, if needed.

“Do you think he’ll forget about us?” MC asked. He could feel the little vibrations of her voice against his back. 

“Nah.” He shook his head. “His memory’s too good for that.” 

“Right? He’s so smart. A little too smart. Sometimes I think he’s a robot; that’s why he knows everything.” 

Caleb laughed at that, and then they continued to walk in silence — or rather, he continued to walk while MC presumably dozed off on his shoulder.

Except, MC apparently was still awake, which he realised only when she started swinging her legs, her shoes kicking his thighs. 

“Oppa. ” She sounded uncharacteristically serious. 

“Yeah?” 

“One day, will you leave too?” 

“Caleb?”

Caleb glanced over at the sound of his name, raising a curious brow at Zayne, who was sitting next to him on the couch and looking out the window at the falling snow. He watched as the older boy’s gaze flitted back and forth from the window to his lap. Zayne pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose a few times and his legs swung about restlessly as he hesitated to speak. 

Caleb found it strange; it wasn’t at all like the bespectacled boy to be so wishy-washy when he was typically the more direct of the two. Not to mention, Zayne had been the one to call him out from the room before he could wake MC, because he had wanted to talk alone, although there hadn’t been any indication of what he wanted to discuss exactly. Caleb had just gathered it was something serious from the way Zayne had been so sullen and grim — more so than his usual, anyway. 

“So…” the older boy eventually found the nerve to break the awkward silence between them, “I didn’t know how to say this yesterday. I was supposed to tell both of you. But I couldn’t. Not in front of MC.” 

“Uh-huh.” Caleb’s tone grows serious. “What is it? Did something happen? Is something wrong?” 

“Well…” After a few more seconds of deliberating, Zayne squeezed his eyes shut. Then he opened them again and said in a clipped voice, “I’m leaving.” 

…That was it? 

“Duh.” Caleb gestured to the front door. “You said your parents would pick you up before lunch. What time are they coming by again?” 

“No, I meant I’m leaving the country,” he clarified. 

“Oh. For vacation?” 

“I’m relocating.” 

Caleb straightened up then, the news completely unexpected. For a second, he thought he had heard wrong because he just wasn’t fully awake yet. Or worse yet, some kind of sick joke from Zayne who thought this would be funny on boxing day. But then he dismissed the thought when he remembered this was Zayne — the last person in the world who would pull his leg over something as huge as this. 

“Why? Where are you going? This is— It’s so sudden. You’re sure it’s happening?” The questions came tumbling out of his mouth one after another. 

“We’re moving to Skyhaven,” Zayne replied. “My parents need to move there for work, so I’ll have to follow them.”

“But can’t you stay? Maybe stay with us while your parents are working? Will they be working there forever?” 

“It seems like a long-term move,” Zayne confirmed, and after a long sigh, continued, “and they want me to attend school there. It’ll mean better chances of getting into the medical course at Skyhaven University.” 

“I… I see.” Caleb didn’t really know what to say. The news was so sudden, after all. Getting used to having another person around him and MC had taken some time at the start, but now that Caleb had gotten used to having Zayne around, it felt odd, to say the least, to hear that he was leaving so suddenly. Still, it made sense. Ever since the day they first met, it had been clear that Zayne would follow in his parents’ footsteps. 

Then Caleb’s thoughts wandered to the sleeping girl upstairs, and he regarded Zayne with a serious look. “Are you… going to tell her?” 

Zayne grimaced, taking his glasses off to wipe the lenses against his shirt, probably to give his hands something to do. “I know I have to, but I… don’t know how.” 

Caleb nodded with understanding, wincing inwardly as well when he imagined how the news would go down. “She’s going to cry,” he said bluntly. “A lot.” 

“I know. That’s why I couldn't say anything earlier.” 

“When are you leaving? Next year?” 

“Four months.” 

“That’s… fast.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Do you… want to go?” 

“I… don’t know.”  

“You don’t sound excited about it.”

“Yeah. I suppose I’m not.”

  The boys fell silent once more, and Caleb fumed silently to himself. There seemed to be no solution to this problem, and Zayne would almost certainly be leaving for good, all because the adults said so. He wondered if Zayne’s parents had even asked him if this was what he wanted, but Caleb knew Zayne was the responsible sort who would never say no to them. He would listen and obey, because he was the good, well-behaved model kid that all the adults loved. 

“Will you come back to visit?” Caleb asked, looking down at his lap. 

Zayne shook his head. “I’m not sure. Maybe. But the only relatives we have here in Linkon are distant, so it won’t be as frequent as I’d like it to be.” 

“I see.” 

“I’ll still be coming by for a while. We need time to sort out the move, so this isn’t goodbye yet.” 

“I know, but we’ll have to say goodbye eventually,” Caleb grumbled bitterly. “Why can’t your parents just stay here and work? I don’t get it.” 

Zayne only shrugged helplessly. “I trust they’ve thought this through.” 

Caleb bit his tongue before he could say more. It wasn’t his place to comment on their family’s choices, after all. Even if he thought his parents were being stupid. Being doctors didn’t give them a pass for everything. 

“When I tell MC,” Zayne began again, in a softer voice this time, “and after I leave, please take good care of her. Don’t fight with her so much, and keep her out of trouble. She’s a magnet for disaster.”

Caleb barked out a laugh at the casual remark. “I know, I’m her oppa. I’ll take good care of her.”

“And don’t forget to take care of yourself.”

“I won’t. Don’t worry.”

“I mean it.” Zayne placed a hand atop Caleb’s head, stroking it gently. Caleb hated that he was starting to get used to this, and he would soon have to adjust to its absence again. 

“If you’re ever in trouble, or if you’re in a difficult situation, don’t take it all on yourself. You have MC. And if you don’t think she can handle it, there’s me.” 

“Because you’re my hyung?”

“No. Because I’m smarter than you.” 

That earned Zayne a punch to the arm, but not hard enough to bruise. 

Zayne grinned at Caleb. 

“Yes,” he corrected, “because I’m your hyung.” 

Caleb knocked his head back lightly against MC’s.

“Hey, I’m your oppa, remember? We’ll always stick together, no matter what. So no, I’m not leaving, not even when you tell me to go away because I’m stinky or because you’re mad at me. I won’t ever leave you.” 

“You have to promise me,” she insisted, extending her arm out to hold out her pinky finger.

“Pip-squeak, you realise I’m carrying you right now? If you want to hook pinkies, I’ll have to drop you first.” 

“Just bend down!” 

She was demanding as always, but it only made Caleb smile. He bent forward slowly so that she was leaning parallel to the ground, used his Evol to make her a bit lighter, and once she was secure he unhooked one arm from her knee and raised his hand to hook pinkies with the gleeful girl. 

“It’s a promise,” he said. “We’ll always be together.”

“You and me against the world?” she asked, quoting one of their favourite lines from a passing advertisement they had seen on the television years back. The words had stuck, simply because it had resonated with them. Ever since becoming family, they had stuck together through it all. Through the fights, through the pranks, through the fun times. 

Even through the short time that they had with Zayne.  

At the end of everything, there would always be them. Side by side, hand in hand, ready to face whatever was next head-on. 

With a grin, he nodded.

“You bet.” 

-end-

[jazeswhbhaven]

Here cums the sun, spring has sprung! (here at least anyway)

It's March y'all and well....February literally just showed up and said BYE like....

I really gotta apologize for my absence during that month too...I was barely on here 😭 part of it had to do with burn out and the other part was just handling other things in my daily life that needed my attention/chronic sickness crap.

So I essentially have a l o t to catch up on, including requests/inbox stuff so bare with me.

There's been a few new peeps that have followed me so as per usual here's my ground rules!!

💙Don't follow if you're a minor, this game is not for minors despite whatever the hell PB calls themselves doin' with that 13+ version. I will block and it's nothing personal. I just don't want to be talking with kids about what is clearly an adult centered game.

💙If your page is blank and you look like a bot, you're getting treated like one, please indicate you're an adult of age on your page!

💙None of that silly shit on my page, or you get blocked (not limited to: bigotry, racism, colorism, p3do shit and apologist, that sort of silly shit)

💙Do not come into my inbox to spread gossip about another user or to "call them out" through me. If there's an issue that needs to be addressed DM me, but I'm not a mediator.

💙I post a bunch of cxc stuff and I do answer the MC hate asks in my inbox. I don't put them in the main tag, but I do have a tag called "cw mchate" and "cw whbmchate" that you can mute if you don't want to see them on my page but still follow. For any of the cxc stuff I tag that accordingly too

💙Replies to requests are slow rn and I'm still catching up, thank you for all of your patience and I will get to everyone no matter how long it takes!

Things to look forward to in March!

As I said before, I have a lot to catch up on. I still have reacts for Mammon's Victory and Beel's Torture card. I'm still fucking editing the rewrite I'm doing for Satan's Torture card 💀 In-between that I will be answering a lot of requests I imagine that PB will have something new for us in March too so be prepared for me to literally get distracted lol

As always, you're awesome, lovely, and I appreciate you 🖤😌 your admin, Jaze O(∩_∩)O

[kay9leo]

Out of Time - Part 1/?

- A New York Yankee in Hogwarts' Courtyard, 1890 -

I'm inspired by @sychenb post the other day about wanting more angst and keeping the angst ball rolling and I thought, "What if MC finally got to go back home to her time period, but never told Seb she was from the future nor did Sebastian ever find out? And Sebastian doesn't figure it out till near the end of his life that his best friend was from the future, but he won't even live long enough to even make it to the year she was born?

As for his wand wood? I went with willow due to this post: Sallow Family Name

(The green ribbon line divider is by @bernardsbendystraws)

Out of Time

"MURDER!" One of the court spectators yelled at him.

I'm going to Azkaban.... Sebastian grimly thought to himself as some court official casted a spell on his willow wand, allowing it to reveal all the spells it casted on a a certain date.

And that date being Imbolc, when he sealed his uncle's fate on a holy Gaelic day.

Flipendo...Despulso...Expelliarmus...

As the spells he casted that night poured out of his wand, Sebastian felt dread in him grow as the he waited for the last spell he casted that night to echo out in the Wizengamot.

...Bombarda... Solomon's form Auror buddy smirked at him with a smile that would belong more to a basilisk than a person. He was the only one who demanded this trial when he somehow found out WHO really did kill Solomon Sallow despite all the work Ominis and Iñaki did to hide his crimes to the world.

...Confringo...

Ominis frowned at him from the spectator's bench. Anne was still not speaking to him, but she was there as well, tears swelled up in her eyes as she avoided looking at him.

Iñaki was the only one who was no where to be found. Sebastian sighed.

It's better if she isn't here... Sebastian thought with remorse as the prosecutor kept reading out all the spells he casted that infamous night. The Hero of Hogwarts doesn't deserve to have her name soiled by having me as a friend...But is it selfish to want her here? To see my best friend one last before they send me off? Surely, she should have heard...or was she that ashamed of me she couldn't bare to even be in the same room as me anymore...

Sebastian swallowed the tightness in his throat.

I know she became distant from me not much soon afterwards that Battle of Hogwarts when Professor Fig died...but I thought she would come around...I thought she still cared enough with how she tried to cover my back....but why can't she at least stop by to say goodbye?

He narrowed his eyes, hoping to hide the tears building up in his eyes, refusing to look weak in front of the court.

In front of his sister.

Even after all this time, even when his neck was at the line, he couldn't appear weak to her. He had to be strong for his sister. It was the only thing he ever agreed with from what Solomon taught him.

He gave a tight smile at his sister, as if to try to tell her, everything will be alright, but Anne never looked at him as the spell that would forever separate them rang out in the court.

AVADA KEDAVRA.

At that, Anne began to cry as she hid herself in Ominis' chest, with his best friend rubbing her back as the court room gasped.

"ORDER. ORDER IN THE COURT!" The judge ordered, slamming his gavel against the desk, activating a rune it struck to cast a muting spell on the spectators. The judge frowned as he glared at Sebastian

"Are you aware Mr. Sallow that the last spell that came out of your wand on that day is an Unforgivable?"

Sebastian stood up straight with a blank look that he hoped didn't show fear as his lips tightened into a fine line.

"I'm aware." Sebastian nodded with narrowed eyes.

"And that any unforgivable used is an almost instant sentence to Azkaban?"

"I'm aware." Sebastian stated, his own voice sounding so far away, as if he wasn't even there.

"How do you plead?"

This is the moment of truth. I can't deny that I didn't want to kill him either with how that spell use is now out in the open. Sebastian bitterly thought as he looked back to Ominis and Anne.

The only two people left in his world.

Not even Iñaki was here.

A pain he tried to ignore in his chest as he glanced at the third empty seat before looking back at the judge. He took in a deep breath and said,

"WITNESS FOR THE DEFENCE!" Iñaki's voice boom through the court room as everyone gasped as the courtroom door busted opened and Iñaki marched in. Her eyes, lightning blue as her ancient magic, were narrowed and sharp, eying everyone in the court room before zoning in onto Solomon's former Auror friend.

The Auror frowned. "And you are?" The judge stated despite his own eyes widening open like everyone else as whispers filled the court room once more. It's the Hero of Hogwarts!

She's the Troll Slayer who saved Hogsmeade in the beginning of the school year!

She saved my town from the giant spiders!

When did she get that new scar on her eyebrow?

Probably from doing something heroic as she is know to do.

What's she doing here? I thought she disappeared at the end of the school year. No one could find her. Not even Sallow. One of his year mates said, the daughter of some high Wizengamot member said from the spectator's bench.

It's been two weeks since school ended. Two weeks since she vanished. A week since he received his court summons for the murder of Solomon Sallow.

And now she was here.

In the flesh.

"My name is Iñaki Carmen Martinez Cariaga. But you may better know me as the Troll Slayer of Hogsmeade. The Hawk that took down Rookwood. HERO OF HOGWARTS who stopped the goblin rebellion underneath said school." Iñaki listed out, unamused as if she was forced to list out the potion ingredients for Wigglewend.

"R-r-right. Of course. The Hero of Hogwarts." The judge nervously shuttered as Iñaki's sharp magical blue eyes met his. Sebastian nearly pitied the man; he's been a recipient of her glare before. Meeting her piercing magical blue eyes unnerved him when she glared, its very magical lightening blue hue ever present as a side effect of using ancient magic or being around magical places build by it. While Iñaki's pupils were normally a warm dark oak, her azure blue were preternatural.

would always cause her ancient magic to show in her eye color.

As if reminding the world the power she wielded.

Sebastian wouldn't lie, it was a bit unnerving when the force of her ancient magic could just be felt just by meeting her magically blue eyes head on.

For once, he was happy it wasn't him who had her attention.

"I am here to provide evidence." Iñaki stated.

"Evidence of what?" The judge frowned as he tried to not finch back.

"Evidence of Mr. Sallow's self-defense on that day. I was there." Iñaki stated as the courtroom gasped and the judge had to use his gavel once more.

From there, things were a blur as Sebastian stood there frozen as Iñaki provided two major evidence of her claim: Solomon Sallow's wand and her memories.

When Solomon's wand was reviewed in court, it turned out it wasn't just Sebastian who casted an unforgivable on that day.

Then Iñaki took out a string of smoke from her head and placed it on the pensieve before a court member cased a spell on said pensieve. Smoke rose from it and engulfed the whole room into the scene of that faithful night from her perspective.

Of Iñaki finding him in the catacomb.

Of the inferi being knocked down.

Of Solomon destroying the relic.

Of Sebastian firing back.

Sebastian glared at memory-Solomon as he fired a shot at Iñaki, dragging her into the fight as well. Then when a spelled fired by Solomon slammed her against the rocky walls, the scene became dark. Not even her breaths were audible as the darkness continued, but the sounds of spells firing and his own voice calling out her name out.

"Get up Iñaki! PlEase." He shouted as his voice cracked as the room heard spells continuing to be fired as the scene was still dark.

"She cannot be healed, Sebastian." The court room gasped at Solomon's voice. "You must stop."

Sebastian frowned.

They weren't talking about Iñaki here, but Anne.

But when he looked back to Iñaki while everyone was listening to the scene unfold, Iñaki had tighten her lips, and slowly shook her head as if to say:

Keep quiet. Let them decide what they want to see.

Spell kept firing in the darkness before Iñaki's memory had her finally opening her eyes slowly as she looked up to see a rock in front of her. A second later, it was blasted apart from a green spell.

She flinched away with a grunt.

Sebastian didn't even realize she was almost struck by a stray spell in the crossfire as the memories showed from her view her backing away from the destroyed rock before she looked at down at her hands, blood dripping on it like raindrops.

Her blood.

Sebastian could barely remember the minor head cut she got in the duel but suddenly it seemed relevant here in the courtroom as they heard his voice shout out:

"Argh! I won't let her suffer. AVADA KEDAVRA!"

The crowd gasped as Iñaki's vision slowly looked up to see memory-Sebastian's back to her, as his body covered her view as he struck his uncle dead.

Iñaki's eyes glanced back to the blood dripping on to her hands before it slowly blinked closed, causing the scene to turn black. Then they heard her body collapse onto the ground with a grunt as well followed by the deafening echoing sound of his wand hitting the catacomb floor.

The memory ended.

The smoke returned to the pensieve as Iñaki stared at the judge while the murmur in the room grew.

Solomon attacked the Hero of Hogwarts.

It was in self defense! Did you see how that stray spell struck that rock in front of her?

He isn't a cold blooded murder, he was protecting his friend! Did you see the way he was standing in front of her

Solomon Sallow was out for blood. You saw how he nearly killed the girl if that Sallow kid didn't kill him first!?

This happened before that goblin attack at Hogwarts...Sallow saved her before she saved us from the Goblin Rebellion!

So that's where her new scar came from!

He's a hero!

Sebastian glanced over towards Solomon's old Auror friend who looked nearly as shocked as the rest of the crowd and then at Ominis who looked at Iñaki with fright and concern for her while Anne's eyes were the ones that struck him the most as she stared opened mouthed at her as well.

They were filled with horror.

She never truly did believe that Solomon was out to get him. And it seemed that she must have thought the same thing as the courtroom when he and Solomon were speaking in the memory.

That they were arguing about Iñaki, not Anne.

He glanced back towards Iñaki as she stared at the judge, her ancient magic forceful behind her magical blue eyes. And suddenly, that faint scar line at her eyebrow that extended to her temple seem to be even all the more relevant.

Even he could see how the Judge was studying it.

"Your honor, as you can see, Sebastian Sallow saved my life from an unprompted attack by Solomon Sallow. The moment he shot at the inferi, should be noted as the first attack as it got in the way of directly striking Sebastian Sallow. The fight started there as there was no need for him to attack us when he could have very well just spoken to either me or Sebastian Sallow. The inferi were docile as the Relic allowed Sebastian to control them. See, he was looking for a way to control the dark magic to see if it can reverse the curse that Victor Rookwood placed on his sister. While unorthodoxly, as you saw, Sebastian Sallow never attacked me nor did he started the fight with Solomon Sallow. Solomon Sallow shot first. And you saw how the fight went." Iñaki said, staring at the Judge who nodded back.

"Sebastian Sallow also happens to be my boyfriend-"

Boyfriend? Sebastian felt his heart beat faster, wishing it was true.

"-we were seeing each other in secret as to confirm some of the school rumors about us."

The crowd gasped as he heard his sister huff quietly with a self satisfied voice, "I knew it!"

"As you saw from the fight, I was knocked out enough to nearly pass out. Enough to fool Mr. Sallow here-" Iñaki nods towards Sebastian before looking back to the Judge. "- to reasonably think that Solomon Sallow could have killed me. Solomon Sallow's death was that of a crime of passion as if you noticed, none of the spell Sebastian Sallow casted was an unforgivable until that green spell destroyed the rock in front of me and knocked me out a bit afterwards."

The courtroom murmured, approving of his actions, no longer painting him as a cold heart blooded murder but as a protective lover.

A title he didn't really hold.

He was protective...but not her lover.

"ORDER IN THE COURT ROOM!" The judge said as he slammed his gavel on the rune once more. The room was silent save of their breathing as the Judge stared at her once more.

"Why were you late? Where were you?"

Indeed Iñaki...where were you this entire time. Sebastian thought with a frown. He spent days looking for her without a sign. She found him instead.

"I needed to tie some loose ends with the Centaurs. I can't share details, but it was for exchange for their help in helping me take down Rookwood. I was able to just leave in time...you know how Centaurs are." Iñaki sheepishly smiled at the judge.

Sebastian knew it was a lie. It was that same smile that she gave him when she said she wouldn't go after Harrow when he found out what she and Natty were doing.

It was the same smile she gave to him before she vanished.

The judge nodded, believing in her lie before he called for a vote on whether to send him to Azkaban or not.

It was unanimous.

Sebastian Sallow would be walking out as a free man.

After the court session ended. Sebastian found he only had one major charge to serve - community service in St. Mungo. Specifically the sector that dealt with dark magic misuse for the entire summer.

He was alright with it as he felt Ominis hugging him once more the moment he could find him outside the courtroom. Anne was next to him, looking at Sebastian with tears in her eyes, apologizing for not believing him about what he said about Solomon. About Solomon nearly killing Iñaki.

"It's water under the bridge." He said as he hugged his sister who was finally, FINALLY talking to him once more and no longer saw him as something vile and unfamiliar. No longer seeing him as a monster as Solomon made him out to be.

"Where's Iñaki?" He finally said when he realized they were missing the one person he was wondering about the most.

"She went down to talk to someone in the Department of Mysteries." A clerk said, walking to him. "She said to find her at the entrance of the ministry."

When he found her, he gave her a hug and swung him around as she laugh before giving him a sad smile.

"You're free Seb, now what do you plan to do with your life?"

Sebastian frowned.

"Where were you? We were looking for you for days." He narrowed his eyes at her.

"I was around..." Iñaki mumbled looking away before looking back at him. "So what will you do now that you're free?" "None of this "What will I do as a free man". You didn't answer my question. Where were you? No body knew where you were for days." Sebastian said as she held her by her shoulders, staring at her, as if daring her to tell a lie.

"I can't tell you...not now." Iñaki said as her eyes darted around the room before looking back at him.

Sebastian took a deep breath and sighed as he said,

"Alright, but when we're out of here, I expect you to give me the full story."

"Of course." Iñaki gave him that smile again.

That sheepish smile.

Right than and there, Sebastian decided he'll get the truth out of her some way, some how.

...

[wifeiy]

YAYY thank u for the tag @mustardd !! us when we get to know each other better... :3

— favourite colour: do not rlly have one . i like muted colours, pastels, certain palettes (pink/green, pink/brown, red/cream, blue/orange, etc) etc but i can see the beauty and usage of all... 🫡🫡

— currently reading: notes from underground (dostoevsky) + the girl from the other side (nagabe)

— last movie: httyd 2 rewatch... last new movie would be ring 1998 i think !

— last song: foe tha love of $ (bone thugs-n-harmony)

— last series: arcane maybe... being so serious i've just been watching (mc)yt for the past like 6 months guys

— sweet, savory, or salty: sweet but i like all 3! :]

— currently craving: macarons + peaches ☹️

— coffee or tea: vry sweet coffee 🫡 frappes...

— currently working on: 2 papers etc etc Etc. i'm behind as fuck. i have never been this behind. non-academic wise blank house writer positions can u hear me /silly /hj /thinking /debating /contemplating /rolling on the floor groaning

Um. actually don't have 9 ppl to tag. that i haven't before. I'm so sorry. there's so few of u here can u do me a favor and do this if u see it. or perhaps send me a fun fact about urself/ur day. love u guys 🦔🪩

[ikemen-trifecta]

Obey Me! Mammon x Selectively Mute Reader - Part 3

Part 2

╱╲╱╲╱╲╱╲╱╲╱╲╱╲╱╲╱╲╱╲╱╲╱╲╱╲╱╲╱╲╱

🎗Part 3🎗

　You returned to class once you heard the bell ring, eyes probably red and raw from crying. You were thankful for that boy keeping things confidential, though. Luke, however, noticed your face right away and commented on it.

　I’ve been having a rough first day.

　“What happened? What can I do to help?” he insisted.

　I met someone who was really chill, so it’s okay.

　“YO, MC! Where’d ya go?!” yelled Mammon, pulling the classroom door open. Luke rolled his eyes.

　“Well, it’s definitely not that guy you met.”

　“Listen, MC. I’m sorry for freaking you out. How can I make it up to you?”

　I just want to go home, you confessed. The angel and demon looked at each other.

　“Alright; we’re going to the roof!” Mammon announced suddenly.

　“You can’t go to the roof! It’s time for class!” Luke protested.

　“What’re ya gonna do about it, Fido?”

　“Who are you calling—” But he was already pulling you out the door and up the stairs. You passed the sleepy boy you’d met earlier.

　“Hi, Belphie! Bye, Belphie!”

　When you two had made it to the rooftop, you took out your notebook.

　You know him?

　“‘Course. He’s my youngest brother.” He contemplated. “Wait. You don’t know my brothers. Can I borrow your notebook?” You didn’t feel completely comfortable parting with your only source of communication, but you complied.

　He drew little doodles with labels on a blank page. “This is Lucifer, my older brother. This is me. This is Leviathan…”

　After he was done, you took back the book.

　So Lucifer is your brother??

　“Yeah,” he said exasperatedly, “He’s always on our asses about something or other. He’s got a soft spot for his hound, Cerberus, though.”

　Isn’t Cerberus a three-headed dog in Greek mythology?

　“Pffft. No. Who told you that?”

　Books and school.

　“Human schools are weird.” He sat back, leaning on his hands. “Well, school is just weird in general. I’d rather be out spending time with my Goldie,” he said wistfully.

　Who’s Goldie?

　“She’s my one true love. My beloved credit card!” He clasped his hands together. You stared at him with a deadpan expression— moreso than what you’d already been looking like. He didn’t notice, though.

　“But Luci stole her away,” he declared ruefully, “and has yet to give her back!”

　Why’d he take it?

　“I may have borrowed money from my brothers and have yet to return it…”

　You two conversed until school ended.

╱╲╱╲╱╲╱╲╱╲╱╲╱╲╱╲╱╲╱╲╱╲╱╲╱╲╱╲╱╲╱

Part 4

[starlightandetherealshadows]

Hello! Feel free to ignore this, but I wanted to give my two cents about the MC's initial personality while playing. Now, this may be blunt, but at first, I was incredibly disappointed. Usually, I tend to play stoic/quiet MCs who don't lash or speak out, and it seemed to be quite the opposite to the distrusting and stoic mc in the game. However, I was thinking extremely hard about this, and I actually get why the MC was so outspoken, especially when V literally pointed a gun at them. Stoic and stubborn MC, from what I saw in the prologue, could easily be more nonchalant *before* the alien invasion, but that, obviously, changed. When C found them and brought them to the hideout, I didn't take into account that MC was in a vulnerable position, and I only focused on the part that MC hadn't interacted with another person in years. So, yeah, of course, MC may be overwhelmed, but their not gonna let people (V *cough*) walk all over them. I guess the thing was that I was so used to stoic MCs in IFs just standing on the sidelines and observing, but that is obviously not that kind of IF. The thing that had gotten to me the most, however, was the second-hand embarrassment of MC actually talking back to V after he blatantly insults them because I could never😭 I guess what I am trying to say is that even though I was seriously taken aback, none of the characters (including MC) are not gonna be 2-dimensional (as you have stated multiple times), and it has definitely grown on me, even if the MC was a little more of a fire-cracker than I expected. I am really looking forward to seeing where you take this story, and I will absolutely be eating it up because even if I might have to be tossing my phone across the room occasionally (bc my second-hand embarrassment is so easily triggered😭😭), I cannot get enough of your writing and characters!! I hope this made sense because I was just rambling about my take on if you are willing to make the MC a little more stoic or have some mute choices, which I am not against, but at the end of the day, I will still be reading the fuck out of Memento Mori! Have a good day/night!!! MWAH💋

Hi sunshine!

I appreciate your super-thorough analysis of both MC's personality and also your initial/developing reaction to it!

Just wanna offer some perspective on why I'm writing MC the way I am (you've already nailed a lot of the points but this is gonna be a succinct explanation from my head hehe)

MC is ultimately a fully fledged character in Memento Mori. While writing, I have about six different MC's in my head, each with distinct personalities, motives, and reactions to events. As I'm writing Ch. 2 in particular, I'm using these characters to influence the choices available and the stat checks necessary for certain actions. MC was never going to be a self insert. I love a good self insert sometimes, but it doesn't work with this if!

What makes characters feel realistic and multi-dimensional to me is their ability to break out of their different archetypes. We all know the ones like The Mean Girl or the Shy Kid or the Comic Relief. We can use your Stoic!MC example. Do we as humans act the same exact way every single day with every single event and interaction? No, we don't. Because we are complex, muli-faceted individuals that can have conflicting thought and actions, or opinions. What makes a character feel flat is when they are only given like 3 personality traits and stick to those regardless of what happens around them in the story.

So in Memento Mori, your Stoic!MC will have moments where they're outspoken and opinionated. The Charming!MC will lose their cool and lash out rather than smooth talk. The Friendly!MC will snap at someone without thinking. We aren't perfect, neither is MC, and I think that adds dimension to what can easily be a very blank slate kind of character. This isn't exclusive to MC, either! Veronica/Vincent will be nice to you sometimes for seemingly no reason. Zero will have moments where he is not okay and rejects your comfort when he reads it as pity. Cecelia/Chase will not always be the bouncy comic relief that uses humor to make everyone smile.

To add insult to MC's injury, like you mentioned in your ask, they are suffering from extreme amounts of PTSD and trauma. They have lost everyone and everything, they're a young adult living in complete isolation for two years. They're starving, they're injured, they hate themselves and being alive. It's going to take them a while to feel like themselves. In the span of one day, they've been nearly killed by a monster, then they're covered in blood guts and sweat when they meet C, then C brings them to meet 6 other people (including two aliens) and now they're going on this extensive journey with complete strangers, while that very morning they were contemplating ending it all. it's a lot.

By the time MC meets V, they are already at their limit of dealing with bullshit so V pointing a gun at them was never going to fly. V insulting them was a no-go either. Now, in the future, MC can ignore V more often because they'll be less on edge than when they were all first introduced. Once they have time to process, then they can react what is most familiar and comfortable for them. It will take time.

I laughed when you called MC a firecracker! I'd say they're more...unpredictable as a character when they're under high stress. As time goes on, they'll adjust and mellow out in some ways, but right now? MC has had ENOUGH with feeling like shit all the time.

I'm really glad you were a bit embarrassed by MC talking back to V because that was my goal AHDSEWLKMFRLK it's supposed to feel a bit uncomfortable. It's MC trying to clap back on someone when they have lost most of their social skills. It made ME cringe while writing it. Like oof MC, just ignore them???!!!

I'll definitely be adding some more options to be a bit more stoic or selectively mute in chapter 2, and as for chapter 1, I think more options to stay silent while talking to Cecelia/Chase or when they're speaking with Delphine/V could be good too. I'll see how it flows!

You'll see at the beginning of Ch.2 that MC already feels a tiny bit better. Nothing much but at least they aren't alone anymore, and they have a hot shower and some real food. So small wins for MC!

I think that's all I wanted to say for now!!! Thank you again for your message, my friend!!! I'm glad you're liking my writing and my characters, it does mean a lot to have your support!! <3

[the12thnightproject]

Chapter 6: The Negotiation … Setting the terms of the working agreement between Katsu and Mitsuhide goes about as well as one would expect.

Mitsuhide x OC; Hideyoshi x MC (Mai)

All Chapters Archived on Ao3 

Logline - With Mai, Hideyoshi, and Aki missing, Mitsuhide and Katsuko reluctantly team up. Disguised as a merchant and his concubine, can they outsmart the man known as the God of Deceit?

“Calm down, Brat – you’ll find me a most accommodating employer as long as you behave appropriately.” After brushing his finger across my wrist one more time, Mitsuhide finally let go and retreated to his desk. “Shall we discuss our terms?”

I presumed that was rhetorical and stayed mute. I also presumed that “our” meant “my.”

“I do not want the headache of keeping you a physical prisoner here, nor do I want to waste precious time hunting you down if-” he flicked a quick glance at my face, “-when you escape. Therefore, let’s agree on this – if you help me find Mai and Hideyoshi, I’ll return the favor and help you find Akihira.”

Ugh. I didn’t want to work with him… but he was probably right that we’d have more success if we pooled our resources. “Even if he’s not with them, even if we find your friends first, you’ll continue to search for Aki.”

“Even if.” He nodded at the shogi board that was sitting on the corner of the desk. It was a reminder that he and Aki were friends of a sort and had known each other for several years. “I expect the same of you. If we locate Akihira first, you will continue to help me.”

“Of course.” I’m a professional. If I agree to something, I stick to it. Sure, I’ll happily lie if necessary, and successfully at that. But if I make a promise, I keep it. Hm, speaking of professional… “We should write up a contract.”

“I hesitate to put anything in writing that I wouldn’t want anyone unauthorized to see.” He tapped the top of the desk. “After all, some sneak thieves can pick locks.”

Oh, enough with the locks.

However, it might be worth it if he thought that I knew how to pick locks, and thus not bother to lock things. “I would feel more comfortable with a written contract, but if you’re really that concerned, we could write it in code.” That awarded me a single raised eyebrow. Hm, could I put, ‘please teach me the single eyebrow raise’ into the contract? “I’m the only person who knows all Aki’s codes, so it’s safe.”

“All of his codes?” He unearthed a blank scroll of paper and patted the cushion at his side. “So be it.”

With a shade rattle of doom echoing in my ears, and an odd anticipatory feeling coursing through my veins, I moved to sit next to him. Why does it seem like I’m making a contract with the Devil? After a quick conference we decided to use the code that he normally used to correspond with Aki and got to work laying out the terms of our agreement.

The first rule, the quid pro quo of helping each other find our missing friends was the easiest. After that, things devolved rather quickly…

“I don’t see why we cannot have equal say in everything. It’s not like I’m planning to boss you around.” Internally, I saw the point of having one person – Mitsuhide – be in charge. But his attitude made me want to protest everything. Besides, if I appeared to give way on the things that I was prepared to accept, then hopefully, he would be accommodating when I ran across a deal-breaker and wouldn’t budge.

“Were you and Aki equal partners?” The look he gave me dared me to lie.

“No. But Aki is my father.” At least Mitsuhide thought he was, and I wasn’t about to disabuse him of that right now. “And you are not.” I had always trusted Aki (more or less). This one, I did not, would not, could not, trust. “I only want to have a say in things.”

He placed one finger on the side of my jaw, turning my head to face him, forcing me to look into those amber-gold eyes. I had the impulse to hold my breath. No. He would notice that. Natural breathing. Ha! Like that’s possible.

His voice was low, and clear, and all the teasing and amusing was stripped from the tone. “I have been doing this kind of work long enough to know that some decisions need to be made in an instant. Orders need to be followed without question or people could die. Is that quite clear?”

I nodded.

“Good.” We stared at each other for a moment, until he let his hand drift back to his side.

That weird prickly feeling returned. I felt off balance, needing to pull back some control. “When we’re in our disguises, or when we are in an urgent situation, you may be in charge.” I managed to infuse that with an unspoken ‘I’m doing this because I want to and not because you say so’ tone to my voice. “When we are here, in private, at our leisure, I will do what I want. And I want my own room.”

“As long as when we are in public, you dress as I say, act as my concubine, and follow my orders to the letter.” He watched over my shoulder as I wrote that down. “When we are alone in this building, if we are not actively working, you may happily ignore me.” He sighed.  “I shall endeavor to live with the loneliness.”

“And my own room? I will not in truth be your bedmate.” I shouldn’t have needed to spell that out, but better to do so now and avoid an awkward conversation later. If this place didn’t have a second bedroom, I supposed I would have to bunk in this not terribly private office.

“A bed technically is not required. You might be surprised at what can be accomplished against a wall, or … on a desk.” He ran his fingers along the smooth lacquer of the desk. The sound his nails made as they slithered across skittered down my spine.

He was teasing again… I think.

Not interested in either kabedon or desk-a-don. “Well, what is life without a little unsolved mystery?”

“What would you say if I pointed out that our charade requires that we be able to act as if we’ve enjoyed certain intimacies?” Before I could move myself out of reach, he tangled his hands in my ponytail, leaning closer as if he meant to kiss me. He smiled, gazing at into my eyes as if I were the most precious person on earth. “Lovers… have a specific look to them. They smile and flush when exchanging glances. Intimate touches when they believe no one is watching.” He let go of my hair, and his hand stroked my cheek before his expression and attitude returned to the more familiar amused condescension.  

“I can pretend.” I can pretend as well as you just did.  “In any case, people saw you buy me. Noone would be surprised if I look like I hate you.” Something evil inside me made me add.  “I doubt you’re unfamiliar with the concept of ‘faking it.’” Before he could react to that … in fact, afraid that he would indeed react because I had probably gone too far there, I hurried to write, “no sex.”

He lifted the brush out of my hand, carefully dipped it in ink, and added, “unless she begs.”

“Are you crazy? That’s horrible!” I snatched the brush back and marked out his words with thick dark lines.

“You certain display a lot of confidence for one so young.” He tapped his finger on his lip, drawing my attention to it again. “I promise you, if would not be ‘horrible.’ While it is true that I am renowned as a torturer, what people don’t understand is that one can torture with pleasure as easily as with pain. If I put my mind to it, I could have you on this desk, desperate for me. You would most certainly beg… and eventually discover that ‘horrible’ would be the very last word you would use to describe the experience.”

He'd done nothing but speak. That’s all he had done. He hadn’t touched me at all. Yet I felt a jolt of … revulsion, yes, revulsion, it had to be that, all through me.

Ok Jareth-with-better-teeth, dial it down a few hundred degrees.

“Well, thanks for that warning – but that wasn’t what I meant. Begging is demeaning. It’s …” Gross, but he wouldn’t understand that word. “If, in the, completely improbable case that I decide, I decide that I want to sleep with you, I will inform you of that fact.”

“Inform me.” There went the eyebrow.

“Well, how would you like it if I told you that I would only sleep with you if you begged me?” I could almost picture the look on his face if I said that. It would probably be similar to how he was looking at me right now. Snarkily amused.

“Point taken.” He took the brush and wrote, Intimacies in private will only occur upon mutual renegotiation. “Does that meet with your approval?”

I had a feeling he was just humoring me, but I had gotten what I wanted so I let that go. “It will do.”

In any case, the chances of my wanting to renegotiate that particular item basically lived in the category that also contained airborne pork and figure skating in hell, so it probably didn’t matter all that much anyway.

Once again, my brain inserted a shade rattle of doom into my thoughts.

The rest of our contract was less fraught with disagreement. I mean, it wasn’t completely peaceful by any means, as he seemed determined to tease me into agreement, but in general, his requests were as reasonable as mine (or as unreasonable – I refused to be the only one responsible for cooking and cleaning) and after concluding the negotiation, he’d guided me to the top floor where I would indeed have a room of my own. “Kyubei has been sleeping in here, but as I’ve sent him back to Azuchi to pretend to be me, no one will be using it anyway.”

I filed away the information that he and Kyubei regularly swapped places as potentially useful. I supposed that explained why Mitsuhide was wearing that long dark wig. When he and Kyubei stood next to each other, they did look pretty similar.

“Does this meet with your exacting approval?”

It took me a moment to realize he was talking about the room, and not his current hairdo, so I spared a glance around to check it out (not that I believe he would have cared at all if I didn’t like it… the room or the wig). It was on the small side, but with a fair amount of neatly built in shelving. The color scheme was rather grim, though. The red and black lacquered panels from the hallway had continued into this room, and a trifold screen depicted a wood carving of a yokai transforming from a basket into a snake. “Interesting décor. Did you pick out the furnishings yourself?” That screen at the very least, was going to need to be turned to face the wall.

“The prior owner, who found it necessary to vacate the premises urgently, sold it to me, furnishings included.” He lit a lantern for me, an act that added sinister shadows to the room. “It does not reflect my taste. Nor does that brown atrocity you’re currently wearing.”

Ugh, yeah, the brown kimono was a relic picked out by Fume, who had never warmed to me (and that’s a kind way of describing it). I brushed away some of the day’s dust from the front of it. “It is impolite to comment on a lady’s attire. This charming outfit fits the role of Kaya the maid, whose unfortunate displacement in the war led to her appearance in the slave market.”

“The alias, you may keep. Kaya.” He gave the brown kimono another judgmental glance. “The clothing must go. ‘Kyubei’ the merchant,” he pointed to himself, “prefers his playthings in silks, hrm, yes, pink, pale green, and lavender.”

Ugh, why does it have to be pink? Pink… and my least favorite nickname. I was trying to figure out which battle to choose when he preempted me.

“No argument? Good. Be ready just past sunrise tomorrow. We need to remedy the deficiencies in your wardrobe.” With a mocking bow, he left me standing in the middle of the room.

“I hate pink!” Too late. He was gone. I would have to revisit that debate tomorrow.

Even if I had to wear the dreaded pink when ‘Kaya’ was in public with Mitsuhide, there should still be an opportunity or two for me to investigate Sakai in my ‘Katsu’ disguise. At least, I hoped so. Mitsuhide couldn’t demand all of my time. Unfortunately, I had left all of my personal items at Francisco’s and I couldn’t count on him to bring them to me (or… find Mitsuhide’s townhouse again).

So, as soon as I could be certain (or relatively certain… or… ok, I guesstimated) that Mitushide was tucked into his own bed for the night, I climbed out the window of ‘my’ room, scampered up to the roof, and hurried the few streets over to land on top Francisco’s machiya. The front door would likely be bolted shut at this hour, but why use a door when a window will do?

Francisco apparently didn’t sense my entry (probably because he was snoring loud enough to muffle anything short of an explosion), and rather than bother to wake him up, I simply retrieved my clothing and weapons from his office. I wasted no time returning to the identity where I felt the most me. Between the boy’s kimono and hakima pants, my sword, and my archery equipment, I felt almost fortified enough to deal with Mitsuhide (not that I planned on shooting him if he annoyed me – but it’s good to have options).  Unfortunately, the brown kimono, as ugly as it was, might still be a useful disguise at some point, so I stuffed it back into my pack.

More important than the Katsu disguise, and admittedly the reason I had snuck out of Mitsuhide’s house, was Aki’s letter to me. I unlocked Francisco’s desk and retrieved it, and after a moment’s consideration, liberated some of my money too. Though I wanted to sit down and read the letter right away, I only had an hour or so before Mitsuhide’s prescribed ‘be ready at sunrise,’ and another visit to make. So, I retraced my steps past the still snoring Francisco, and in moments was making my way across the rooftops to Shojumaru’s warehouse.

Though dawn was only hinting at the horizon, the building was already a hub of activity, with sailors hauling crates inside. From my perch on the roof across the street, I could see young Hiko darting about, looking like he was directing the workers to stack the boxes, while a white-haired man dressed in rich gold and brown silks was inspecting the boxes themselves.

He was clearly in charge – was this then, the merchant Shojumaru?

The angle of the roof to the street wasn’t sharp enough to allow viewing of what was in the crates. Most were only carried by one man, so they couldn’t be too terribly heavy. Fabric, maybe Chinese silk or Indian cotton, seemed to be the most likely contents. At least today then, no one was importing Nanban weapons.

I considered climbing down and introducing myself, using Hiko as a facilitator, but decided to observe Shojumaru from afar first. If I wanted to ingratiate myself with him, it would be good to have an idea of how he personally operated. The sailors who were bringing in the goods treated him with deference, though he kept a healthy amount of personal space between them. He was more overtly affectionate toward Hiko, treating the boy to a rare, and seemingly genuine smile. The only time I noticed him becoming at all uncomfortable was when a poorly balanced crate fell off a cart, landing a puddle with a splat.

A spray of watery mud was flung out in a circle, splashing everyone in the vicinity. When the mud hit Shojumaru, he froze and a look of revulsion crossed his face. He whipped out a hand towel and scrubbed at his cheek and clothing.

After brushing off his clothing, Shojumaru tossed the hand towel to Hiko, and disappeared inside the building, which pretty much ended any plan I might have had to casually encounter him and Hiko in the street. I supposed I could go in and simply introduce myself, but someone just doused in mud was unlikely to be in the friendliest mood. Then again, people who are upset tend to reveal more about themselves. Still, it wasn’t great timing, and…

Timing.

Crap. I needed to Cinderella myself back to the townhouse before my “master” woke and found me gone. With a few regretful thoughts about the less than successful morning, I turned, and hurriedly retraced my steps, zipping across the rooftops as if I were a vampire and the sun would turn me to ash.

But even though I managed to return before the sun had fully risen… Mitsuhide was indeed waiting for me when I climbed back through the window.

Speaking of vampires…

Mitsuhide lay on my futon, his arms folded across his chest, almost in a vampiric pose… hm, if he were a vampire, it would explain a lot.

Without opening his eyes, he said, “Good morning, Brat. Did you have a fruitful morning ramble?”

He didn’t sound angry. The second thing I hate about Mitsuhide. He never gets angry at me when I expect him to.

@bestbryn @mllorei @tele86 @lyds323 @selenacosmic @akitsuneswife

[squerunit]

was just reading another of those shojo manga where the divorced parents of MC and heroine marries each other and now the two dating/exes/friends with feelings teens have to live together under one roof and the drama and thought like...

why is it always the kiddos? I wanna see the parent's POV! Imagine you're this 45yo salaryman whose wife died or divorced and now have to raise your one and only son alone, dedicating your life to him in a way you never thought possible before and be there for him so much that suddenly, you realize how time has passed and not a single of its seconds spent on you so you're like, alright, that's fine but there's that yearning for romance, to have a peer you wish you can talk to in equal setting, the nostalgia of having warmth by your bedside and seeing someone smile at you as the first thing you see in the morning...

of course, you won't try to justify why it's that co-worker/senior/boss of yours that keeps filling the blank default of those fantasies! That's improper!! you know better than to confuse respect with adoration!!!

anyway, that doesn't matter! You're out of the dating pool anyway, with the age and your son, and them being so professional with their job (ah, always so impeccable!) there's no way they're interested. What's fun this week is hearing that your teenage son asking if you're busy this weekend because his girlfriend's parents wants to meet you for dinner, to celebrate their graduation! How exciting! You've always wanted to meet the parents who raises such a lovely young lady, even though events never seems to align before, but now there's no excuse!

So you make sure that your weekend is clear(getting a weird look from your co-worker but also, encouragement for having plans that isn't resting at home. that might or may not make you blush and floaty for the rest of the worktime), dress up in a way that feels like a faraway muscle memory from time long time ago. even if you're not the one going to date today there's no way that you can embarrass your son! with the best fit you have in your decade old wardrobe, you and your son walks into the restaurant and gets escorted to the seat when-

"Oh."

that familiar voice.. it can't be?

"That's.. huh??"

Oh no. That is.. what?! what are they doing here?? they look so good though dressing up like that... sitting with your son's girlfriend..??? Now that you look at the two, the similarity is so uncanny. How did you missed this?!

once their eyes finish taking count of the situation (since surely it can't be you that they're looking at!!), you see their surprised face turn into a smile you never seen before and instantly, all of the world fades and shatters, you can't tell if its the sounds fading or your heart racing that mutes it all. "Oh it's really you! What a small world!"

It really is. you say, holding back the flood of emotions that's border on embarrassment and mortification(and heartbreak). It really, really is :'D

[fictionfixations]

this disturbing nightmare i had at one point

i dont think i ever talked about it because it really fucked me up like holy shit what the hell

but then i just found it while doing something else. remembered it happened. and anyway its kind of interesting? one of the few nightmares with games or references to it (there was one of me building a bridge in mc creative and then i fell. or this weird field trip roller coaster fnaf nightmare). annd i typed it down

SO. its like two months old btw. i kind of still remember it but also not really

cough cough

-------

i had a very disturbing nightmare?? it was basically about this whole horror game

but i think it mightve been bleeding into reality?

and the last thing i remember is so basically the (PROBABLY tw warning)

we were trying to hide but like. something something, and i think we accidentally triggered the phone? so it was just constantly ringing. so we were goin to die soon. i just hear screams. i have my own phone, i type nonsense into it (keyboard smash), realize 'wait shit im gonna die' and quickly deleted it nad typed in 911. ring ring. theres a voice. its like. 'i SweAR i diDNt CheAT' and like 'DONT [blank. blank. i dont. remember . and i dont wnat to??]' and it was. terrifying. and i muted my phone.. and then me the character i was playing as screamed as they were dying. think the kind of horrifying scream from one of those terrifying vhs horror series. i think i called like. my. actual lover though? the other person we play as who was too late to save us. and. i. it. was very. disturbing. for some reason trying to leave the game browser brought me to like a really old roblox? and iwas trying to navigate to discord. ..because i wanted to share my experience there, my horror experience where i was on like a walk or something and being chased and hunted and something something. headbang.

i think my mind just got increasingly annoyed. because i kept wanting to go to discord to talk about it (whether about the game, the dream, or the 'real experience' i have no fucking clue) i remember having that urge. to. get. up. but i wasnt actually awake. so i just got increasingly confused and lost and panicked because i was trying to leave but i couldnt??

rereading this the 'type nonsense' probably doenst make sense. clarification: im viewing this as both as playing a game and also 'holy shit tHATS ME'. i was like 'fuck im dead anyway'. had that realization of 'wait shit I'M gonna die???' and did a last ditch effort to call 911. i knew though. we were. gonna die anyway though?? i had like this inventory thing i was messing around with while figuring it out and resigned to my character's death [honestly. it was probably some sort of weird time loop thing idfk except only i am aware. and i forget half the time]

--------------

honestly. it was so confusing and horrifying. that maybe ill take this and write it into something for character angsty times

[rosescries]

help it's been over a year since I've been here- all I saw was wet cat mc and buff mc before I left. hopefully you guys don't mind if I bring up a different type of mc from tsm, blank and mute mc. mc who pretty much has little to zero reaction to anything done to them. oh edge grips onto their arm a little too tightly? doesn't matter, they just keep making eye-contact with him until he lets go and off they go to tend to themselves and go about their day. but the plot twist is that mc is mute but they're never given the chance to sign out anything so they just...give up on communication. why bother communicating if they refuse to even listen? imagine if it's because Taylor never even mentioned them being mute tho. sorry for the long ask tho-

Oh, it's been a bit since wet cat and buff mc were brought up. Though I have no clue when that actually was.

Not a whole lot would change? They'd think it's a bit weird she's not reacting, but she's still listening so..... okay? They not really looking for a reaction out of her, they mainly just wanted her to stop doing the things they thought she was doing i.e. making a lot of messes, bringing strangers into the house (which they weren't actually caught all that often), and bothering Taylor. Otherwise they left her alone and she left them alone.

Mutt would tell them she's mute pretty early on, basically as soon as he learned she was, and they'd believe him. Despite her "reputation" there's no reason to fake being mute, so why wouldn't they believe it?

[longtimenospooning-luci]

Namjoon:

Updated 01/14/24

Out of the Woods - @angelicyoongie

Promising Jihyo that you were going to stay away from your writing for one weekend had been easy in theory, but much harder to actually do once you reached the little cabin the woods. To make matters worse, the only thing that rivals your inability to keep promises is your terrible luck – and after a particularly bad choice leads you to get lost in the mountains, you suppose that it’s only karma that you end up face to face with a wolf that looks ready to rip your throat out.

Black Silk - @bangtanfancamp

Mafia Arranged Marriage AU with whipped Joon and cute shy Reader.

Ruin Me - @borathae

He knew that wearing this shirt would be a good idea…

Forever Rain - @ddaenggtan

Being dead isn’t anything exciting. Just a lot of walking the same halls of the same apartment day after day after day. Things change when the new tenant arrives, though. Kim Namjoon isn’t anything you could have expected; not the way he’s so careful and gentle with his plants because he breaks so many other things, not the way his friends joke that he’s psychic because you refuse to let him get in the face one time, and certainly not the way he comes home after literal months spent moving things away from table edges for him and announces that he knows he’s being haunted and he has some questions for you.

Begin Again - @jamaisjoons

It’s been three months since Namjoon broke up with you, so what happens when you’re at a mutual friend’s wedding and he wants you back?

Russian Roulette - @jimlingss

Blanks and a bullet - it will only take one to die and one chance to live.

La Vie en Bonsai - @jungshookz

Selectively Mute MC with cute clumsy neighbor Joon, featuring MC's best friend Yoongi. Fluff overload!

Please Don't Die - @justcallmenikki7

I think I’m in love with you and that scares me half to death.

Needy - ^^

your boyfriends alter ego loves your attention and affection, something that was a little different from Namjoon.

Trust Me - ^^

Namjoon wants you to trust him, because you are the only good thing that has happened to him and he cannot lose you. 

Till Death Do Us Part - @justimajin

Mafia arranged marriage AU featuring Boss Joon and enemy gang heiress MC with a twist!

There Was a Bug - @kimnjss

you and joon have been best friends for years, unexpectedly his feelings start to grow more than platonic. deciding to keep this to him, joon stays as your best friend and roommate. things are going fine, until one night you’re forced to sleep in his room.

Kakistocracy - @kpopfanfictrash

Political Satire AU featuring Senior Aides MC and Joon of the opposing parties.

Secrets - ^^

Spy/assassin AU featuring exes to lovers trope!

Drunk in Love - ^^

Friends to lovers au!

Never Alone - @kpoptart216

Aaaaanngggssstttttt with a fluffy(?) ending

Dangerous Game - @lachimolala7

Bodyguard Joon and Idol MC, super cute F2L

Bonsai - @leefics

where a bonsai plant brings you and your husband closer together.

In Too Deep - @luxekook

you had always grown up being told tales of terrible jobs with tyrannical bosses. but now, you’re left to wonder why you hadn’t heard more tragic stories of all-too-wonderful jobs with all-too-beautiful bosses… did falling for your boss only lead to heartbreak and a two weeks’ notice? or could it yield the possibility of romance?

This Can't Be - @mirahuyooo

Four years and it all came to this. (Absolute fluff, read if you want a pick-me-up)

Come back Home - ^^

Even as a fight ensues, all Namjoon wants is for you to come back home.

Silence - @monochromaticinsignias

Being a famous idol in the country of Korea has pros and cons, and he used to think that there were more of the good ones than those of the latter. Having a loving girl by his side made him all the more happy in spite of the struggles around each and every corner. He can’t be lucky enough. But this time, it looks like as if it’s the other way around.

Edge of Tonight - @park-jimin-isnt-real

A part of him died that night. A larger part died when they couldn’t find you, and over the years whatever was left of him grew cold and hard. It was that ice inside him that got their gang to the top, that gave them power, and money, and all the things a normal mafioso would be more than satisfied with. But none of it meant anything to Namjoon. All Namjoon wanted was you back in his arms. That was the underlying motive in everything he did. For the past ten years, Namjoon built himself an empire, just so he could find the reason his heart beat.

The Bodyguard - @rmnamjoons

Ambassador daughter reader and bodyguard Namjoon in an insane cross-Europe chase with dangerous kidnappers on their heels.

Castaways - ^^

Sassy MC and Joon get washed overboard on a cruise with their mutual friends. Landing ashore an island full of romance.

Embrace - ^^

Cuddly snuggles with best friend Joon that leads to more.

The Truth Untold - ^^

Best friend Joon saving MC from her toxic relationship, leading to a healing new love.

Roomies with Joonie - @sahmfanficbts

Roomies with Joonie Series (PhD candidates KNJ and Y/N)

Ambidextrous - @softlyjiminie

soulmates were a common thing in this world, yours could hear the thoughts in your head. the only way to know when you’ve met him, is to hear that one keyword.

Dangerous Situation after an Argument - @thebangtancloud

exactly what the title says, i love this series, perfect angst!

You're No Longer Alone - ^^

God hears you when you ask him to make you feel less lonely.

Spoils of Fortune (Patreon Exclusive) - @untaemedqueen

Neurosurgeon!Namjoon x Spoiled Brat!Reader, Arranged Marriage, Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut.

Post Blue - @writtenwhalien

He knows you do it on purpose, getting under his skin with your obstinate attitude and willful ways, but he also knows why — you’re wary of life, and you’re silently calling for someone to make you feel protected from its cruelties.

Guilty - @xjoonchildx (Absolute Fav!!!!!)

as the man at the top, kim namjoon has almost everything he wants. almost. could a familiar face from the past change his future?

Close Call - ^^ Drabble to Guilty

when a noise wakes you in the middle of the night, you find your husband in a bad way.

[kookieswan]

Red Light - White Walls

Nightmare!Hoseok x Psychologist!Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Genre: Horror AU, Monster AU, Psychological horror, a bit angsty, odd fluff lol.

Warnings: Talk of killing and blood. It should be noted that this story will contain themes of horror/psychological horror and also explore obsessive behaviors and codependency. Many characters are morally gray. Please be warned!

Summary: Seokjin’s been away for a while, and it makes him wonder just how much he’s missed. Yoongi, thankfully, is surprisingly loose lipped.

Notes: No MC or Hoseok, but we get to see Yoongi and Seokjin interact. Again with a different pov, I hope everyone likes it! This takes place the night of “The Happiest of Trails.”

This is the 15th part of the Red Light series. Find the Masterlist here ♥️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seokjin hasn’t been doing much else beside staring at the blank white walls of his cell since he returned. Things haven’t been nearly as eventful as he hoped they’d be, the usual whispers much quieter than normal. Sadly, it seems as though he’s jumped from one dazzling hell to another.

The Nightmare slides his eyes over the the larger rooms door as it clinks, two guards wrangling in a rowdy Yoongi. He snarls the whole way to his cell, snapping his teeth and hissing almost like a cat. There’s not much he can do like this though, arms trapped in a straight jacket, feet chained together. It’s more than comical, but Seokjin refrains from laughing. It’s a passing thought, but it’s a bit puzzling to not see Jungkook here instead.

They push him in roughly, causing the man to nearly rip over his own feet. He yells obscenities out as the guards lock his cell back up, clearly more seasoned than the newer workers around here. They leave without a word, slamming the door shut behind them and leaving the locks to echo out through the room like a ghost.

“So.” Yoongi’s deep voice crackles over from his cell after a few quiet minutes, throat seeming to be raw. It’s surprises Seokjin, enough to make him glance up at the other Nightmare full on. He looks a little banged up, standing in the middle of his cell with his head cocked to one side, face void of any telling emotion.

“So…?” It’s unusual for Yoongi to want to talk willingly, but then again, Seokjin has been away for some time now. Things around here can change in a second flat, something the Nightmare had learned the hard way. Yoongi sways a bit, nose wrinkling up before he finally looks away. Seokjin readjusts himself, spreading his legs out against the pale flooring.

“How was it down there?” It makes Seokjin giggle to himself as he taps his feet against the floor, the uncertainty in Yoongi’s voice new. Always so sure of himself, hearing the small stutter has a smirk playing on the side older Nightmares lips. Not being able to resist himself, he coos out his words like he’s speaking to a baby.

“Aww, is Yoonie concerned about me?” The shorter Nightmares face twists up in disgust, scrunching as he observes where Seokjin sits on the floor of his cell. Said man just smiles back, playing with the sleeve of his jumpsuit, enjoying its inky color much more than the medical grade white that surrounds him. He can’t see it, but he allows his hair to shift from black to pink slowly for some comfort.

“Hell no. I’m just curious.” An unbelievably muted reaction, this time something Seokjin really wasn’t expecting. Yoongi’s always had a decent temper, but something has changed. The question is what, but Seokjin will find out in time. He always does.

“Curious because you think you’ll be going next?” Sometimes he wishes he were Hoseok, it would make situations like this easier. Alas, asking his roommate straight out is the only way he’s going to get any answers right away. Yoongi doesn’t say anything but his eye widen, continuing to stare at Seokjin till the older gives up and sighs as the pipes in the ceiling wail.

“I won’t lie to you, it wasn’t very pleasant. The things they did to me just to see if I would recover… Heh.” It was terrible. Horrible even, but it’s behind him and he refuses to dwell on the last weeks. It was for a good cause after all; he’d do just about anything for Namjoon, including going on a killing spree. It was even a little fun if he had to say so.

Yoongi’s legs finally give out then, likely fro exhaustion, causing him to plop down on the floor. He looks unsettled, eyes blinking aggressively as he works through his own thoughts. Seokjin watches on with morbid curiosity, unsure of how the other Nightmare will handle the information.

“I suppose I should cool it on my pretty art projects then. A pity, I loved seeing Jungkookies reactions… Always so beautiful…” It comes out cheerful, but Seokjin wouldn’t expect anything less when Jungkook is involved. It’s almost cute, how taken Yoongi seems to be by the guard. That’s why he had purposefully spared Jungkook when he let loose, walking right past the bloody guard and going on to the next.

It makes him think of the most recent break out attempt, the one he sadly missed out on. Seokjin has limited knowledge on it, but he knows enough. Enough to have more questions than answers, leaving him more than a little annoyed. One thing that’s caught his attention though, however…

“They don’t like her, the new psychologist. Either that, or they seem to like her a little too much.” Yoongi stares back at him, face unreadable at first. Then, it spreads into an easy smile, one full of teeth that somehow glares brighter than the walls around them. It makes his eyes hurt.

“She’s lasted longer than I thought she would, longer than any psychologist. I don’t mind her; she’s the only one that hasn’t told me to leave Jungkookie alone.” All the other psychologists had disliked Yoongi’s interest in Jungkook. Seokjin would always return to his cell with a whining Yoongi on the other side, the nightmare throwing a fit every damn time. This new one though… She’s odd.

“She does seem rather tolerant of our choices. I don’t believe she knows everything though. They’re keeping secrets from her, leaving her in the dark. It’s not wise of them.” Seokjin knows a lot, has been around a long time. From what he’s seen and heard so far, she’s very inquisitive. Maybe a bit too much, enough to get her in trouble. But maybe, just maybe, she could help him, intentionally or not.

“I don’t suppose you have any updated info on Joon for me?” It doesn’t hurt to ask, even if Yoongi’s been cooped up in isolation for days, the guards like to gossip like old women. He shakes his head however, blinking sluggishly back at the other Nightmare.

“I don’t. He didn’t cause any trouble when I unlocked the doors and he stayed put from what I heard which wasn’t completely surprising after what happened.” After what happened… It makes the rage boil in Seokjin’s insides again, but he does his best to contain it. Tilting his head back, he squints at the white ceiling, then closes his eyes to fade back into the comfort of darkness.

“… I’ll fix him. I don’t how I’ll do it yet, but I’m going to fix him.”

[reilliane]

Remedy ★ Alatus

— ★ Scry: Ecliptic Umbra + Alatus — ★ Genre: Romance + Fluff & Angst — ★ Concept: Facing the hardships together is a better remedy than shouldering them alone. — ★ Words: 2.3k A/N: It's my first time writing a stoic, kind of aloof MC, so this is a wonderful challenge to write >:)) I'm pleased with the results though~

The origin and stories of Yakshas aren’t known in the city of Liyue, long has their fame dwindled, lost in the interest of the general public but the scholarly.

Still, even if a minor few are aware of such existence, they know very little of the warriors who, up until now—are fighting an eternal war.

War against gods who know no rest and peace, retaining their wickedness even when they have long since seeped under the earth. But such is foreseen—they never truly die, after all.

And throughout the centuries, Yakshas carry their purging, all whilst burdened by karmic debt until they too, succumb to their suffering. One by one.

Until no one but two remains.

He’s always been the oddest out of the group, that Alatus. His story is nothing new to you; coming out of a wretched god’s manipulation, only to serve Rex Lapis.

His only purpose is to serve and yet—how can he be so optimistic, still?

You don’t understand it, really.

Or more like you fail to see the beauty in things after the scarring war and pivotal karma you’ve been subjected to.

But it’s normal, no? Can people blame you for being reclusive when you’ve already dawned upon the true horrors this world has to offer?

Ah, not like you care for others’ opinions.

“You’ve cleared this area before I can even arrive… as expected of the Frostborne,”

You sense him coming before you see him appear in the middle of the battleground at Guyun Stone Forest, a location that’s active of evil’s influx.

Turning your eyes away from the fellow Adeptus, you glance at your worn catalyst.

Its splendor has waned throughout the years, leaving a dull luster behind the shards of noctilucous decorating the weapon’s body. Maybe you should refine them… this grimoire is a gift, after all.

“You really went all out,” you see the man trek around the remains of Cryo, thoroughly conducting his observation, “No longer can I detect a speck of evil… looks like Guyun won’t be visited for a while.”

He pipes up and you roll your eyes with a muted scoff. He’s annoying…

Not passing him a glance or any of your attention unless it’s important, you dematerialize the weapon and pinch the space in between your eyebrows.

It’s getting unbearable, again… this karma.

It always acts up whenever you quell the curses of the deities that try to break free.

Looks like you’re going to need more of the medicine you’ve been learning to brew to last another night without tipping over to insanity.

“Hey, [Name],”

Moving your stare to fixate on him, you see the Yaksha looking at the bright moon past the mouth of the cave housing Guyun’s domain. He’s smiling again.

“You don’t visit Wangshu Inn that much, anymore. It gets a little lonely sometimes, so, will you—”

“No thanks.”

Your swift response only drives him to chuckle, looking at you with a gleam of bemusement in his chartreuse eyes.

“You don’t hold back, do you? And here I thought we’ve bonded over the eons. You’re still sharp.”

He lifts his hands in joking surrender at the narrowing of your stare, the smile in his face not once dropping as his shoulders vibrate along with his snickers.

It’s unbelievable how he’s able to find mirth in little, trivial things. You’re getting peeved by the second.

Alatus just doesn’t break.

He wears that stupid grin of his everywhere, parading around as if he doesn’t have nightmares clawing the depths of his psyche and demons whispering for him to go insane.

He humors the musings of mortals, and albeit caged in yet another contract, remains a free spirit.

Anger is a foreign emotion to him—hell, you haven’t even seen him frown for once in thousands of years. The most he can do is a blank face.

Why does he do that? You click your tongue when the Conqueror goes off on another talking tangent.

Why can’t he be mad at this accursed world for everything it’s done to him? No one is going to blame him.

You don’t think you’ll ever understand this man. Why he feels like hiding his immense suffering under a damned smile is a necessity.

“Rarely do we see one another outside of joint exorcisms, [Name]… last time I saw you was almost a year back.”

You’re too holed up in your thoughts to notice the drooping of his jubilant tone, a subtle change to one of longing that you remain oblivious to.

“As it should be, unless you want to stir up chaos. Us Yakshas can’t stay put in one place for too long—our karma may accumulate, and you know what comes afterward.”

He lowers his head at this, obviously aware of what you’re trying to say.

Madness will take hold, the beholder may lose themselves to the clutch of mania… and wreak ruin. Like how the Yaksha of Geo has fallen to it and thus slain one of their comrades bearing the element of Hydro.

It is too risky to have karma play its part once more, especially now that there are only two of you remaining. Bosacius’ status remains unclear… but from someone who got out of a grueling war, you’ve come to assume the worst.

Sighing, you shake your head, trying to keep your voice firm as you state, “An encore must not play out, for the betterment of both of us.”

The isolation, the loneliness—of course it burns.

Of course it hurts, but the risk is too high for you to bet. That is why, until you are able to perfect a healing concoction, you must remain vigilant.

Gambling with too high of a risk is the same as putting your life on the line.

“That doesn’t mean we can’t try,” he whispers, stepping closer to you. “Can we?”

Yet this man is more than willing to throw himself away regardless of the risk.

Again with this endeavor of his. You mull, attempting not to stare in the depths of his emerald eyes—ones that speak so longingly of his want to entwine his life with yours.

You thought he’d stopped wishing for something impossible when you turned him down after the Archon War, but you thought wrong, it seems.

Pushing down the sentiment of relief and opting to stare at him with furrowed brows, you ask him with a voice of genuine wonder.

“It’s been centuries. Why do you try so much, Alatus?”

When the Yaksha in question notes that you don’t shy away from his approaching figure, he reaches for your hand—holding it in his own.

His gloved hands, though calloused and firm from millenniums of slaughter… are surprisingly gentle.

He whispers his sincere response in the breeze carried by the night air.

“Is it wrong to want you by my side?”

The hitching of your breath doesn’t go unnoticed, to your chagrin, but he doesn’t comment on it. Other than that, you’re plenty aware that he has also taken note of the way your hand twitched in his.

He’s always been good at reading your bodily cues.

“Also… I could ask you the same thing,” he starts fiddling with your fingers, “Why are you trying so hard to distance yourself from me?”

Don’t say it, Alatus.

You purse your lips. The truth you shy away from—if he mentions it, you may cave in, you may fall deeper. And you may imperil both of you.

Don’t say it…

But he does.

“What hinders you from accepting what we mutually desire?”

You vanish, leaving only a wisp of black and a frosty rain of snowflakes—and there, Alatus stands underneath the moon once again, alone. His chest is hollow, but there is a smile on his face.

There is a faint pain, but why must he dwell on it when he knows that his feelings are well reciprocated?

It’s safe to say that you openly distanced yourself further after that confrontation several moons ago. You don’t shirk away from your duties even if the hammering guilt persists, telling you to take the chance for once.

A chance to be happy.

But you don’t let the whisper of greed get to you—it’s what led to your doom eons ago, if not for Morax rescuing you from it. The stakes are too much to play with.

Even if it feels like this opportunity with Alatus is different—in a sense that you truly will be happy—you can’t, you can’t jeopardize anything.

You’ve put up with silencing your own want for centuries, who’s there to say that you won’t be able to do it again?

‘Ironic that you do this to prevent yourselves from being hurt, but you’re hurting him more this way.’

Speaks your guilty conscience one night as you send a rain of freezing swords and spears down the creature that has manifested out of the land’s lingering curses.

You’re thankful that you’ve gotten rid of the curse as swiftly as possible. If your damned sense of moral continues to trip you down the guilty lane, you would’ve suffered more injuries than necessary.

That said, you didn’t quite get out of this battle scot-free compared to usual…

You hiss at the trail of blood that drips from your temple.

Getting distracted in the middle of a battle is a rarity, but you suppose that you can’t avoid it now that this distraction ropes in the very being of a fellow Yaksha.

Speaking of him… you haven’t seen nor felt any remnants of his Anemo in his usual battlegrounds. Is he doing alri—

You slap your cheek, ignoring how you may have done it a little too hard, but the sting is much needed. Being carried away is not on the agenda tonight.

For centuries, you’ve gone without thinking much of what your avoidance does to the green-eyed Adeptus, you can do it again.

But, as you trek away from the battered and dry grounds of Cuijue Slope, the weight in your chest gets heavier—and so does the shame that’s been hanging in your mind for a long time.

‘Isn’t it hypocritical for you to turn against something you want in the first place? Especially when you share the same wish as he does.’

Groaning in resignation, you run your fingers through your tresses. You’d think your conscience would’ve perished in the tides of unforgiving war, but that’s far from being true.

Thus, with bitterness—yet eager, though you refuse to acknowledge that—you change the direction of your journey, setting the destination to the one place you know him to be in.

Wangshu Inn.

It’s late in the night when you step foot in the architecture, months after your last visit. Thankfully, there are few people, so you could care less about striding in without hiding away.

The woman behind the desk, Verr Goldet, looks surprised to see you—and, to be honest, you can’t believe that you’re standing there yourself. But alas.

She knows you not to be a conversationist unlike the other Yaksha, so all she does is say her greetings before nodding her head towards the upper balcony.

With a grunt of recognition, you walk up the wooden stairs, trying not to let frost cover the ground as a reaction to your nervousness.

It’s ludicrous, you mull as you enter the balcony. But here I am.

Looking for the man who has been triumphantly plaguing both your mind and heart. He’s nowhere to be seen, however.

The temperature is oddly low, like an abundance of Yin is suffocating the air and you stagger with a choked gasp. This is…

It reeks of miasma and karma, you note with a harsh click of the tongue. And mine is reacting to it.

This is what you fear the most, but you can’t bring yourself to leave, not when you now know that he’s emanating such powerful waves of karmic debt.

If he keeps this up at this rate then- then there is a possibility that he may lose himself.

With adroit maneuvers, you’re up on the roof of the inn, eyes flitting back and forth to search for—there!

Alatus is visibly writhing in pain, eyes scrunched shut and cold sweat trailing down his exposed skin.

His hold on the thick branches of the tree he’s situated at is desperate as if he’s doing his best to stave off the urge to succumb to the darkness.

He pants, heaving breath after breath amid the torments of his karma. Heavens, it’s unbearable. Too much, it feels like it’s gotten worse and—

His alertness comes into play when he feels an incoming presence, but before he can do anything, his head is being tipped back and some kind of liquid is entering his mouth.

“You’re such a fool,” you grumble, pulling the empty bottle away and letting him cough in bewilderment, “Rex Lapis provides us medicine for a reason,”

It takes Alatus several moments to register the fact that he isn’t dreaming, but very much awake when he sees you sitting next to him with a glare that can rival an angered Archon.

Ah, he realizes, the pain has lessened a lot.

Relieved, he rests his forehead on his hand, taking the time to collect his bearings and breath more properly before providing an answer.

“I... ran out of it.”

He hears a scoff.

“And you think the best way to get around such adversity is to be silent about it? You talk big about trying, yet you keep to yourself. You’re infuriating, you know that?”

Not expecting the insult to come in a straightforward manner after a show of vulnerability, Alatus jolts in his place, mildly offended.

“Hey—”

But that sentiment disperses into the wind when he sees your eyes brimming with an angry layer of tears. Silence captures him whole as you spat.

“How could you smile your days away pretending that nothing’s wrong? No one is asking you to hide it away, you’re free to get angry—yet you don’t let such emotions consume you.”

You choose to drop the bottle onto the floor lest it shatters in your hand, and you divert your stare elsewhere.

With coiled fists, you continue. “You’re hurting, aren’t you? So why do you have to act that everything’s fine when it’s not?”

There’s no answer for a long minute—or perhaps it’s even more, you’re not sure. But you don’t care, you said what has been troubling you for so long.

This is a point of no return.

In truth, you assume that he’s gotten tired of your snappiness, and you feel more than inclined to depart that instant to save what’s left of your pride—but the hand on your wrist stops you from leaving.

Slow in your pace, you bring your eyes to meet his, though reluctant because this is it- there's no going back. The second you hear his answer, you know, you know you'll give in.

“It’s easy to be distracted when you’re still here, alive, with me. Stand by me, [Name]."

Expression soft, chartreuse eyes genuine, Alatus is smiling, as always.

And that sight, along with the answer alone are enough to spill your tears and for your stubborn walls to crumble once and for all.

Centuries after holding it back, you finally allow your heart to flutter.

"... I will."

bonus: MC's titles are: Frostborne Beast | Subduer of Curses

bonus short (fluffy scene :D)

a/n: aaaaahhhhHHH don't you just love it when two equally broken people find solace in one another ajdnuiwaehfhuiwa please even if it's Alatus give him a hUG-

@cherryflushz @e7t3 @scarlet-halos @lordbugs @nebulaera @koi-chairowo @uwu-dreams

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭'𝐬 𝐒𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐆𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬

[gloryseized]

9. why were you drawn to each one of your characters?

Ask Meme: Multimuse Meme!

ohhhh this is a fun question!

Link -- I think it was back in 2017, right around when botw first came out that I ran across some artwork exploring the idea of Link being mute and I thought that character idea was so cool! Exploring both how a character could be powerful but then have the 'weakness' of not being able to speak was fascinating to me, and also empowering. Not only was it a new way (to me) to explore a relatively well-known character and a new challenge as a writer, but placing someone who didn't speak specifically into a fantasy setting I thought was very cool too. So when I decided to take the plunge to make this blog, I decided to throw this guy in there after he'd been rotating in my head for years.

Akira -- Again, there's some heavy influence of fanart and fanfiction that helped to inspire/maintain interest in this character. I was intrigued by his story, how he gets thrown into all the nonsense--how he somehow knows the right choices to make while also clearly flying by the seat of his pants. And similar to Link, we get basically a blank canvas for Persona 5 MC, and I thought it would be fun to see what I could bring to the table for this muse given the things that are locked into canon. It's a sandbox with the walls where I know how far to go and then all the toys inside to play with ^.^

Will -- I love Will. I see a lot of myself in Will's character and I didn't want to write him for the longest time because I write his significant other Nico who (still) has me by the throat and will not set me free ever. But because I made the multi, I decided to throw Will in too.

Marinette -- I recently got the husband to start watching this show together after I took a break sometime during season 1/2 when it was first airing. And we were immediately hooked. I don't tend to find myself drawn to female muses, so I wanted to see if I could try my hand at writing Marinette. I definitely vibe with a lot of her insecurities, and taking the step back to write them has been nice to get an outside perspective.

Mimir -- I do love an old wise muse, especially an old wise muse that's been through a lot like Mimir has. I love all the nuggets that are dropped about his history in the different stories he tells, but I also love his characterization and support he gives to the main characters in gow 2018/ragnarok.

Duck -- She is baby. (This sentence was the first thing I wrote to reply to this meme before anything else.) Princess Tutu is an anime that deeply influenced how I think of stories and hope and earning happy endings. I loved Duck in the entire show and any chance to write her here as been a treat.