#but i have to think about it more. and find out if my mother will actually let me lol

[worshipthecrow]

"Meeting the parents"

Summary: You received a call from your mother while you were with Sylus, your parents want to meet your boyfriend.

Content: Sylusx Female! Reader, Reader is exaggerating the situation in her head, death threats.

A/n: I introduced Sylus to my parents with the tete-a-tete function and more or less the things that happened are portrayed here, some comments were made after explaining them the whole game and stuff. English is not my first language, if you find any mistakes, let me know so I can correct them.

One, two, three breaths you took before opening the door and stepping inside with your heart pounding in your chest and cold sweat on your back, Sylus was waiting for you to return from your phone call.

His shirt half open and his lips swollen from the long kissing session would be a hot and inviting sight if it weren’t for your mother’s voice booming in your brain.

We want to meet him, you’ve been with him for how long? A year? And you still haven’t brought him home, if that was a lie don’t worry honey, my friend’s son is still single and very handsome.

Your mother’s playful tone made you frown, you exchanged a few more words and hung up the phone.

He smiled sideways at you, waiting for you to sit back on his lap to continue.

“Hey…” you didn’t let him finish when the words came out of your mouth like a suppressed cough, fast and violent “

“My parents want to meet you”

You noticed the slight change in his gaze and posture, but then he relaxed again, held out his hand for you to take, which you did without thinking because of habit, and making you sit on his lap, tangling his finger in a lock of your hair.

“When?” a simple question, you expected more, maybe nervousness, maybe that he would refuse, but there was only one question.

Why don’t you bring him tonight? I’m making pork ribs, your favorite, it would be a good time to meet him.

It wasn’t a question, it wasn’t a suggestion, it was an order said sweetly with a little threat.

“Tonight” you whispered, he hummed caressing the skin on your arm, nervousness didn’t let you enjoy the sweet touch.

“All right, if that’s what you want, sweetie” you let out a heavy sigh you didn’t know you were holding in.

And for the rest of the afternoon, it was you, stressed to the bone that what would happen in this inevitable disaster, someone would die, and you hoped it would be you, just to get away from this situation.

Sylus took you to your parents’ house on his motorcycle, you would have preferred to go by car, taking advantage of the traffic to get ready or to fake an emergency, but no, the way was too short and fast and now that you were in front of the door you wanted to vomit your guts on the floor.

It was he who rang the doorbell, just long enough to be heard but not annoying, the door was opened by your mother, the image was endearing, the chubby little woman greeted the two of you with a sweet smile letting you in, she still had her apron on, wet and you guessed she was washing the utensils she used to cook.

Your father was in the living room, you noticed the tiny sauce stain on his shoe, and you knew that today, of all days, would be the worst day of your life, nothing good came out of it when your father was helping your mother cook.

Your mother called everyone to the dining room, your stomach was doing somersaults, you walked stiffly to your seat, Sylus, out of habit, opened the chair for you to sit down and then sat next to you.

Your mother served your plate first, as always, the smell of the ribs, that delicious smell that always made your mouth water made you feel the worst nausea you had ever experienced in your life.

You watched her prepare your father’s dish, and the familiar fight of “one more” “no, the doctor said to watch your cholesterol” took some of the tension out of the situation, but knowing that the next dish to be served would be Sylus’ only reminded you of the chaos that was about to unfold, you prayed to any god that was willing to listen to you even though you had never been devoted to any of them.

Your mother took the plate placed two ribs and you held your breath as your mom’s voice came through your ears like the scream of a banshee.

“So, Sylus, what do you do for a living?” the smack of the mashed potatoes against the plate almost made you squeal.

“I run a family-owned business that covers a range of services and offers various products. We deliver fruit and even sell state-of-the-art technology and I work with a lot of talented individuals. If you’reinterested, I’d be happy to discuss it in more detail another time.”

You buried your fingernails in your thigh, the way your father bit into the rib meat made your heart stop for a second and the look on your mother’s face didn’t make you feel any better either, you slowly chewed the tender juicy meat, feeling it like lead in your mouth.

“And what do you do in your spare time?” your father’s piercing gaze said he wanted to give him a shot between the eyebrows, too bad that wouldn’t work, you knew it too well.

“My hobbies are very simple. I collect vynil records, play the organ, and occasionally sing. According to your daughter, my singing isn’t too bad.” The sideways smile made you blush as you shoved mashed potatoes in your mouth and avoided the zucchini from the boiled vegetables. “Do you like to sing? If so. You’re always welcome to visit my private karaoke bar.”

“Do you live with anyone? Your family?”

You bit into the carrot so hard that your teeth hurt.

“I live alone and I have a relatively flexible schedule” you blushed and drank from your pomegranate juice as your mother looked sideways at you, you knew what was going through her head. “I stay at my base most of the time. Otherwise, I’m in a hotel for business meetings or go to my private ranch when I need to unwind.”

Sylus smiled softly, and you swallowed saliva admiring how his factions softened.

“I own several beautiful horses, and one of them has grown particularly fond of your daughter. The two of them offer frolic together at the ranch. I like seeing her be carefree and happy” you held back a surprised gasp at his words, you needed to scream, preferably at your best friend, as you melted into a puddle of mush, that was too sweet, ugh. “… if I might ask, are either of you interested in shooting or racing?”

Now you wanted to scream, but out of hysteria, even though you were a wanderer hunter it’s not like your parents were too happy about it when they expected you to be something else, like a doctor, a lawyer, even a teacher, gun handling was always a constant discussion when you lived with them and expressed your desire to be a hunter.

“I have licensed facilities filled with the necessary equipment. You’re welcome to enjoy them to your heart’s content, while it might not be obvious at first glance, I’m very good at taking care of people”

You decided to concentrate on your plate, while eating, you blinked for a couple of seconds noticing something strange but ignored it in favor of continuing eating your pork ribs.

“Because of our time together, I developed new interests. I enjoy taking her to auctions and fashion shows, I like seeing her shine, And her happiness is my happiness”

Your heart stopped at the softness of voice, you wanted to cry in his arms and tell him you loved him, but that would be too dramatic at a family dinner and you could do that when you got back to his house in the N109 Zone.

“What about the future, hmm?” everyone had finished as they spoke, you felt a lump in your throat hard to swallow, what about the future indeed, you squeezed your glass as you took a swig.

“I’ll always support her with whatever she wants to do. I’ll also stand by her side without question”

The Table was silent for a few seconds while your father picked up the dirty dishes and your mother took something out of the refrigerator, you recognized the pot immediately, you had seen it so many times during birthdays, anniversaries, Christmas and New Year.

You got up and opened a drawer and took out a plate and helped your mother unmold the flan, the color of the caramel reminded you of your childhood, when on your birthday your mother made a small mold just for you, of Christmas fighting with your older brother for the last slice, which in the end you shared sitting on the floor playing on the console.

It had been so long since you had eaten your mother’s flan, that seeing it now was just a balm for your stressed heart.

You left the plate with the flan on the table carefully, your mother took the knife out of a drawer and returned to the table to cut it.

“Everything you said was very nice Sylus” your mother’s voice gave you a shiver that went all the way down your spine to the back of your neck. “But alas for you where you hurt her, I don’t want to see her cry because of you, because I swear every time you go out you are going to have to watch your back, because if I have to, I will disappear you and no one will ever find you, was I clear enough?”

The sight was hilarious, your mother, the short woman, shorter than you in fact, was threatening the leader of Onychinus with a kitchen knife shiny from the caramel for having cut the flan, with a sweet smile as she offered him the plate with the dessert.

Sylus wasn’t expecting it at all from the look of utter surprise on his face, accepting the plate with a sideways smile.

“Like crystal” he replied softly and your mother smiled again as she handed out the plates, you breathed easy that she hadn’t stabbed him, your father poured the coffee, you put sugar and milk in yours.

The rest passed relatively quietly, lighter conversations and your father constantly telling you to take care of yourself on your missions and your mother reminding you that you could always come home if you decided to quit your job.

After finishing dessert and coffee your father took you to the garage, saying he had something to show you, you followed him thinking it would be some new car he was repairing, or a modified motorcycle, but no, he sat in his folding chair and you sat next to him, nervous about leaving Sylus and your mother alone for too long, you didn’t know if she would try to stab him in the back.

“Does he treat you well?” your father looked at you with his dark eyes, the ones you had inherited, and you nodded.

“He does”

“He seems nice, and he has money” you nodded, uncomfortable about that last “I was worried, when he said he stayed in hotels, that he worked with “individuals”, I thought he would cheat on you” your heart pounded in your chest, you once had that same thought but the fact that Sylus would always answer your calls, messages no matter the time or place removed those doubts a long time ago, “but then, he started eating the zucchini off your plate when you put them aside and the looks, he looked at you like you were the moon, like you put the sun in the sky, it gave me diabetes”

And you laughed, so hard that you threw your head back as you laughed at the top of your lungs, you laughed until your stomach hurt and your father looked at you like you were insane even though he was smiling subtly.

Sylus appeared a few moments later as you were catching your breath, your cheek half numb.

“Your mother wants you to help her dry the dishes”

You got up from your chair and walked towards the door, when Sylus turned to follow you your father called him to talk to him, you looked at him and nodded, you weren’t worried, if your mother didn’t try to kill him your father wouldn’t either, you went to the kitchen and your mother greeted you with a cloth to dry the dishes and you waited.

“I like him” she said “I like that he talked about you like that, he almost doesn’t seem real” you snorted under your breath, wondering what the two of them must have said while you were gone. “Better than your exes, definitely”

You groaned, remembering that your closest group of friends from high school still called your ex from that time “evil cockroach”, and still laughed at his love misfortunes when they got to hear something about him, you were fine staying out of it, but your mean side also felt satisfaction when it turned out that his last girlfriend had dumped him.

“He has everything you like as well, music lover, animal lover, and I am relieved to know he has gun licenses, that means he will always be able to take care of you and you will have good weapons for your missions” your mother dried the flan pot and put it back in its special drawer.

“The hunters association provides us with enough guns” although you weren’t going to deny that the Harrier 700’s were your favorite.

“He’s very much in love with you” your mother evaded the subject of your job, as always, you knew her stance on your safety and the many times you had been scolded over the phone when you were in the hospital was reminder enough “tie him up”

“Mom!” you shouted, shocked, you knew she meant ‘marry him’ but with Sylus it could be very literal that matter.

“What? You would have cute babies” you covered your face in embarrassment, leaving the plate you were drying on the counter so as not to throw it on the floor “and he has nice buttocks”

“MOM!” you shouted in a high pitched voice, definitely embarrassed and your mother laughed at you, you were aware of Sylus’ attributes, but you didn’t want to discuss them with your mother.

“He hides things doesn’t he?” you nodded, calmer at the change of subject, although it wasn’t something you wanted to discuss either, you continued drying the plates and glasses. “But you know what it is?” another nod from you “Well, as long as you know it’s okay, but I don’t want to get you out of prison”

You rolled your eyes but smiled anyway, aware of the approval your parents were giving, your mother a little too enthusiastic, your mother and you finished drying the dishes just as Sylus and your father were coming back in.

The goodbye was better than the welcome and without the stress you felt tired all at once, you wanted to go back and sleep for the next week.

With a last hug to your mother and the mortification that she gave you a condom, you rode up behind Sylus on the bike and hugged him around the waist until you returned home.

You threw yourself on the bed, ready to accomplish your desires, Sylus pulled off your pants as you grunted and tucked you under the blanket, then lay down behind you, brushing your face with something, you opened your eyes and ripped the platinum package from his fingers and threw it on the nightstand, you cursed your mother.

“Don’t even think about laughing” you said through your teeth.

“You are kinda like your mom, she’s the one in charge isn’t she?” you sighed and laid on your back.

“Yeah, my dad has a bad temper, but my mom is the one in charge, if she says do it you do it” you saw his sideways grin.

“It runs in the family I guess, you’re bossy too, Kitten” he kissed your neck and even though you wanted to get mad you couldn’t, you were tired and wanted to sleep, until…

“What did you and my mom talk about?” The kissing stopped and Sylus lay back, towering over you resting his head in his palm and his elbow on the pillow.

“Your past relationships and veiled threats disguised as funny comments, who is ‘the evil cockroach’?”

“Ugh, my chronically unfaithful ex” you shrugged “that would be a better story to tell when you meet my friends, they make it funnier”

“Oh, so I’ll meet the group too?” the comment had come out of nowhere, but if you introduced him to your parents, who you were most worried about them meeting, your friends should be easier no?

“I guess so, although I’ll have to arrange the meeting when we’re all free” you were already getting a slight headache just thinking about squaring schedules so you could set up a meeting.

“I’ll be available whenever you want” you smiled softly at him, you were too grateful that he seconded you on all the things you wanted to do, whether they were ridiculously childish or not.

“I’ll talk to them tomorrow, now I want to sleep” you turned in bed and wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him down and put your face in the crook of his neck, Sylus wrapped his arms around your waist as he gently stroked your back.

You drifted off to sleep, as you thought about the best way to tell your friends that you wanted them to meet your mysterious boyfriend you talked about all the time. Maybe something like…

“Hey, do you guys want to meet my boyfriend?”

Yeah, that might be nice.

[vaspider]

Spider, can I ask you and your followers for some input in a situation? I want some unbiased opinions, especially from parents of adult kids (bonus if your adult kids are disabled). I've tried to be as unbiased as possible and include both sides. I am aware that you're under no obligation to actually answer, but I'm hoping that if you're not able to provide any input, then one of your followers might be able to.

TLDR at the end.

The context:

Basically, I am an adult in my late 20s. I haven't lived with my parents since they threw me out at 19 for being diagnosed with autism and they were told that I wasn't capable of living independently without years of occupational therapy. I was homeless for 13 months. Like literally two days later, they dropped me off at work, confiscated my house keys, and said to find somewhere else to sleep because I wasn't coming back home. (My parents insist that I wasn't actually homeless because I already had my current job and was able to afford to stay at a youth homeless shelter. I say "what the fuck do you think Homeless Shelter means??") After that, I was able to get a government grant for chronically homeless youth that allowed me to get a room in a student housing complex. It's not dorms, but it works like a dorm. I do have a private room.

My bedroom of my apartment is a mess. My bedroom has always been a mess. I have AuDHD and multiple disabilities, including extreme fatigue so that's not unexpected. During lockdown, it was especially bad. I had to move out of my last apartment in 2021 because one of my roommates was a bigot and my building wanted a new tenet so they could charge more rent, so between the two of them, they forced me out for being a "safety concern" due to the mess (the roommate did things like lie and say I didn't bathe, even though I was literally still wet from the shower). My parents ended up helping me pack up my stuff and move to a new place. I've been here for a few years and my roommates here have always been okay with the mess because it stays confined to my room.

(Also I wrote this at like 5AM and I'm half asleep but I wasn't going to be able to go back to bed until I ask someone unbiased. So please excuse any typos, and I hope everything makes sense and nothing came out as gibberish because sometimes by brain refuses to Word Good.)

The problem:

My mother decided when I moved in that my dad was going to be inspecting my bedroom in order to make sure it's clean. He's been putting her off but she's been on his ass about it for three years so he's finally caved and said that next time he's here to bring me something (I cannot drive due to disabilities), that he would be inspecting my room.

I do not want my room inspected. I've been very clear about that since day one. Yes, my room is a mess, but I'm also a grownass adult. My parents say that since they've given me some money for my rent over the past few years that they're entitled to inspect my room. I say that it's a violation of my autonomy. My room is my safe space. My mother is an obsessively clean person so growing up, my room wasn't really mine, and everything had to be to her standards whether I liked it or not (including things like what color I paint my furniture that I owned).

My parents do not care about my boundaries, and would say that since I've proven incapable in the past (re: because I'm disabled, not that they'd ever admit it), that they're trying to protect me by keeping me from being kicked out again.

I am skeptical about this and believe it's more about controlling me (see: throwing me out for having autism and just generally being extremely controlling my entire life). My parents have refused to stop giving me money for my rent every now and then (I have a job and pay at least the majority of my rent, but there are some months where business is slow and I don't get many hours, and no one wants to hire me because I act Autistic and use a cane) and I end up short. I have resolved to do everything I can to not need their help, including having my sister pick up my prescriptions, in order to avoid my parents coming over and inspecting my room.

Also, my building already does quarterly inspections and they've always been okay with my room, but I know my room won't be to my parents' standards. I don't have any local friends that I could ask for help cleaning up, but like, I'm a Spoonie. I clean my toilet and then have to go lay down because I'm getting dizzy. I am not making much progress myself.

The question:

Are my parents right? Have I shown that I cannot be trusted to keep my room clean, thus entitling them to come inspect it to make sure it's not a mess. They will definitely yell at me and have threatened to withdraw what support they do give me if my room is a mess or I refuse to let them inspect it? Or am I right to put my foot down and enforce my boundaries?

Side note, my parents have a history of being abusive and controlling. That's something I had to prove to the government to get my grant. They would insist that it's not abuse. Some of it was quite bad but I'm not going to get into it here.

TLDR:

I'm an adult with disabilities who has my own apartment. My parents think they're entitled to come inspect my room to make sure it's clean. I say that it's my apartment and I say no. They have threatened to withdraw what support they do give me if I refuse. Are my parents being unreasonable, or am I the one being unreasonable for refusing?

Your parents have no right to inspect your room. You are an adult. This is your apartment, not theirs. Your mother is wrong. Your parents are being invasive. I think they think they're being reasonable bc they care about your well being, but they aren't respecting your autonomy.

Sometimes, being a parent means you gotta let your kids not do things the way you would or even not do things the way that is best for them. It's hard, but it's necessary.

If you still lived with your parents and your lack of cleanliness was affecting their lives, it might be different ... but this is just your parents being fucking weird.

[newtidalwave]

woahg tagged in a thing yippeee

Last song: The Wallflower Equation by Vylet Pony. one of the best songs ever made for real please go listen to it. also there are naked furries on the album cover. whether that's a warning or an advertisement is up to you to decide

Fav color: #ff033d. it's a nice bright red c:

Last book: Qualia the Purple by Hisamitsu Ueo. still reading so can't give a review but it's great so far. has cute girls.

Last movie: Revue Starlight The Movie. i rewatch it very often. 10/10. watch revue starlight pleaseeeee. i could type an essay about it here but there already is one in my drafts soooo

Last show: Flip Flappers. also a rewatch... it's crazy how episode 7 literally has cocona retreat into an internal world where she tries to figure out what the fuck her relationship to papika actually means and she finds NAIL CLIPPERS and then i've still seen people say it's not explicitly gay. bitch literally the entire anime is about cocona realizing she's so so so in love with papika. and then her non-existant mother is so homophobic that she throws a tantrum and the world explodes. anyway yeah it's good 👍

Relationship: single................ fucked up. where oh where is someone to give me cuddles

Last thing I searched: Thomasson (very cool)

Current obsession: i find myself strangely devoid of fixations right now... i guess i'll say revue starlight because that's the eternal neverending obsession

Looking forward to: girlies i gotta be honest there is not all that much to look forward to right now. hm... i'm finally getting an ID with my real name on it in a few weeks! which is awesome but also a mixed bag because then i gotta do more legal stuff. bleh.

Tagging: girlies i gotta be honest i am being followed by one (1) person and while she seems to be very super cool and awesome and stuff she is also the one that tagged me here. i don't know what the etiquette is for tagging people when i have interacted with like three blogs. so i won't.... like it'd be weird to tag a bunch of people that very much don't know me, right. i think that'd be weird.

Ten People I’d Like to Get to Know Better

tagged by: @orphiclovers

last song: It’s all been Christmas retail crap or if you count the radio on the drive home playing Avril Lavigne

fav color: this pale seafoam green for things or white for clothes

last book: Eclipse by Wilder (poetry)

last movie: Deadpool & Wolverine

last show: N/A

sweet/spicy/savory: sweet and savory 

relationship status: 4 people proposed to me this year. 1 meant it fr 🥹 (engaged irl) otherwise I have a harem on AO3 going.

last thing i googled: how big is a wintermelon?

current obsession: cooking and Infinity Nikki

looking forward to: I’m planning a road trip with the girls later this week!!

Tagging: @auuwmk, @ssunfish, @ajhaijma, @stoneclaw, @quiteboared, @kiwiandmint, @dgeneralacc, @rex44201, @readingdreaming4951, @thottykunikida

[mr2swap]

Stepdad and son time

-Calm down old man, A cigarette won't ruin “My” body-

My stepfather Steve smiled confidently at me and then flexed his huge arms just to reinforce his point.

-I even think they are a little bigger than the last time you saw them, right Steve?-

Despite being outdoors the powerful aroma that came from the smoke reached my nose, that aroma was so familiar, but at the same time it was different I could remember the taste, however I had never tasted one. It was the old and dry lips of my stepfather, those Who remembered the delicious and soothing taste of that horrible habit.

-Oh! How rude I have been... Do you want any of this?? -

Steve took a couple of steps towards me and held the cigarette towards my face, the same face he had left behind 3 years ago. I'm not sure how he did it, but I have no doubt that he is to blame for what I now look like. As an overweight, middle-aged Southern man, I couldn't resist the soothing taste of a good cigarette.

Suddenly my mind relaxed and all the hatred I felt for the guy who had ruined my life vanished. Steve looks as damn happy and confident as the last time I saw him. We continue fishing, drinking and talking as if we were really a couple. Stepfather and his son having a good time, son of a bitch…

When I lived with my mom, he and I never got along well, sometimes we went days without talking even if our room was only a couple of meters away. To me, Steve was just a lazy idiot who was lucky to find someone like my mom.

Although my mom tried to get us closer multiple times, she didn't succeed, Steve and I were very different. I used to be a sports fan, I spent time with my friends playing all day or sweating in the gym, but all that changed when I turned 21 years old, Steve suddenly began to take an interest in my life in a somewhat obsessive way. He started watching the videos I posted about my workouts on Instagram and looking at my friends' profiles.

But the most obvious proof that he was the cause of all this was that just a week after we "mysteriously" woke up in the other's body, Steve left the house in the middle of the night with my motorcycle, the selfish bastard. The only thing he left me was his social security number and a small message:

“I'm sorry that we couldn't find out what caused us to exchange our bodies, but I think we should both continue with our lives. Take care of your mother and don't worry... I'll go visit.”

Since that day my life has been shit, I don't know what the fuck he did to me, but since that day I've had to fight every day with that little voice in my head That makes me act like an idiot, Sometimes and all I can think about is How damn hot it is in the house and how good I could use a six-pack of beer. I guess he thought he would do me a favor by doing that to me to blend in more, or maybe I'm just his trash can where he dumped his shitty habits including his taste in women and Susan, my mother.

Every night before I go to sleep I try to be so fucking drunk that I forget what I do at night with my own mother and when I can't get my mother to give me money for the beers I masturbate furiously in the bathroom to relieve my desire for the disgusting sex with mom

If you're still horny and want to read more of my m2m bodyswap stories, subscribe to my Ko-fi I have over 250 stories in my archives

[neovillains]

DEATHBED | PART TWO

( HE'S NO DEADBEAT : NANAMI KENTO ) nanami believed he raised his son well, only for him to turn into a deadbeat right in front of his eyes. don't worry, he'll make it up to you. | watch time: 3.8k words.

── gilf!nanami & fem-bodied!reader, she/her pronouns, single mother!reader, adopted grandfather!nanami, deadbeat!yuuji itadori, high age gap, cunnilingus, clit stimulation, unprotected sex, multiple (2) orgasms, creampie, pussyjob, etc.

note. i am going so feral over my own series. like,,, i want to gnaw on the skin of gilf nanami so bad !

“I just don’t understand,” Nanami sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he throws his head back in the stress of all this. “You told me a couple of months ago that you love the girl. Now, you’re going back on your word the moment the child’s born? This is not the man I raised you to be.”

“Yeah, well,” Yuuji mumbles on the other line. “I’m sorry for disappointing you, but I just— I don’t think I’m cut out to be a father. I didn’t— I didn’t—”

“You didn’t realize how much responsibility it would be?” Nanami finishes for him. “How old are you again? I thought we were over this conversation the moment you left for college.”

“Why are you giving me so much shit?” Yuuji groans, voice getting more agitated the more his adopted father continues to chastise him. “(Y/N) and I had already had a discussion about things and I would financially provide for the child. That should be enough.”

“That should be enough?” Nanami scoffed, baffled by the words of the pink-haired fool on the other line. He could tell that Yuuji was still naive and idiotic to think that money would be the only thing that you needed to provide for a child all on your own. “What about doctor appointments? Emergencies at school and (Y/N) having to call off work to get them— did you consider instances like that? One person isn’t supposed to juggle the job of two.”

“I’m pretty sure she’ll be fine,” Yuuji hums. “You’ve done it with me—”

Nanami couldn’t take anymore of it, pulling the phone from his ears and immediately clicking on the red button to end the call. With a sigh, he brings himself out of the kitchen and towards the leather recliner that’s starting to fade. The burnt umber starting to dull in its color and having more of an orange hue to it. Relaxing in the seat as he leans back, he shuts his eyes. Over the years, he’s finally gotten a chance to relax. Slaving away in an office for hours and hours nearly everyday and coming home to provide for a young Yuuji, it’s brought a toll on his body. Gradually letting himself go, his stomach has grown a bit more pudge to it and the blond of his hair has completely dissipated to white. 

When Yuuji had found you, bringing you home to meet his father, he was happy for his son. You were such a sweet person who managed to handle Yuuji’s outgoing nature. You were someone who could provide him stability, something that Yuuji was in dire need of. However, Nanami should’ve seen this coming when the two of you had been together for ten years and he never mentioned the idea of dropping down to one knee. 

“Fuck,” Nanami curses as he rubs circles into the temples of his forehead. He thought that at some point Yuuji would get it. That he’s no longer a child and has responsibilities to tend to. But instead, he’s still running from adulthood instead of embracing it, coming to terms with it, and stop solely feeding into his inner child. Though it could be a gruesome thing, aging did have its perks. It was sad to see that his son didn’t seem to find that within you and his son. 

He wondered how you were doing. How you truly were doing. Reaching for his phone, he had never called you so periodically before. However, when he heard that you were pregnant, he wanted to be a present grandfather. But when he heard how Yuuji had broken your heart after so many years together, he felt ashamed to have ties with the younger lad. 

Last contacted: Two Weeks Ago.

With a heavy sigh, he presses the call button and waits. He’s expecting you to decline the call but after four rings, your voice— soft— sounds from the other line. “Hello? Nanami?”

“Hello, (Y/N). How’ve you been?”

—

You’re a very eclectic person. That’s what Nanami has learned about you from over the years. When you and Yuuji moved in together, you had taken over all aspects of interior design, having a more maximalist approach to things as countertops were littered with drinkets and pieces that were so vibrant and full of color. He couldn’t tell what your style was— bohemian chic with a mixture of rustic and historical? You mismatched a lot of things, but they always seemed to be coordinated in some sort of way. In the end, your home was an organized chaos that he’s come to admire. 

However, as he sits down on your couch, half of those decoratives and staples to your home are gone. Packed away in boxes as you’re ready to raise a child. Conversations between the two of you were short and brief, that light in your eye that he’s so accustomed to is starting to blow out and he can’t help but feel guilty for the role he has to play in this. 

“How’ve you been holding up, (Y/N)?” He asks out of the blue. “And be truthful with me. Don’t worry about me relaying the message back to Yuuji because I’m not— if that’s what you’re worried about.”

For the first time in the two hours he’s been here, you chuckle. The newborn laying on your chest as you rock your little boy to sleep, you shake your head as the corner of your lips rise. “I’m not worried about that, trust me. I’m just trying to think about that as much as possible, to be honest. It’s been a rough couple of days. With postpartum and everything, it’s taking a toll on me while I’m trying to keep it together.”

“Has he been sleeping well?” Nanami gestures to the baby. “If you need any help with him, you know I’ll be here as much as I possibly can.”

“You know,” you hum. “He’s really not that bad. I don’t want to jinx it, but he’s been good at night. The days, too. He’s been easy so far.”

“Probably because he can detect what you’re going through,” he lets out the comment absentmindedly before clearing his throat. “It’s good that he’s not giving you much trouble though. All you need is easy right now.” 

By the fourth hour, Nanami removed himself from your home. Seeing him out, you were about to shut the door when he stopped abruptly. “And I mean it, (Y/N). Call me if you ever need help. Don’t try to do everything on your own. I’ll be there for you as much as I possibly can.”

Your eyes glisten with tears as you nod. “Thanks, Nanami. I really appreciate that.”

—

Nanami had taken the initiative to do what Yuuji couldn’t. Making regular visits to you to spend time with you and help with the baby as much as he can. Months passed by and gradually you were forgetting about Yuuji. Even with Nanami in your presence, you no longer cared about the guy you had been with for ten years as the older man seemed to be filling this void inside of you as you didn’t feel alone. And when Yuuji would call, you’d always keep conversation short as your voice gained a bit more pep and you were able to get more decent amounts of sleep. 

There was something stirring inside of you when Nanami was around. It was like he made the sun shine brighter. 

Was this right— to be on the verge of developing plausible feelings for your son’s grandfather, your ex’s father? Adopted father, your brain corrected. Nonetheless, Nanami raised Yuuji as if he was his own. Were you just trying to fill that hollow void inside of you that was yearning for connection?

You loved Yuuji. He was childish and didn’t want to hold any responsibility, oftentimes making you do the brunt of things. Truthfully, you shouldn’t have stayed so long. But, you loved him. His childishness made you smile, his want for fun made the days go faster. However, you ended up getting the short end of the stick because of his ways. But still, you loved Yuuji.

Nanami was a tie to Yuuji. And whatever that was going on in your mind was still tied down to Yuuji. 

The pipe was running for far too long that it called for Nanami’s attention. Stepping inside of the kitchen, he stands behind you and reaches to turn off the pipe. He looks down at you when you jump, your back hitting into his chest. Making eye contact, you smile sheepishly as he looks down at you in concern. “What’s wrong?”

He doesn’t ask if there’s something wrong, he knows that something is. And in the whirlwind of your mind, you blurt, “I think it’s best if you go now.”

The immediate switch up is perplexing, catching Nanami off guard as he instinctively takes a step back. “Huh— did I do something wrong?”

“No, but— but I think it’s best if you stop your little visits,” you continue on, turning your back away from him as you grab the sponge, squirting soap on it. 

“(Y/N), talk to me.”

“I don’t think I want to talk anymore.”

“I don’t care if you don’t want to talk anymore, you’re going to,” he pulls at your wrist, dragging you away from the sink. “Tell me what’s with the abrupt decisions?”

“I—I—” you groan in frustration, flinging yourself against Nanami as you pull him in for a kiss. It lasts for only a second before he’s pushing you off of him, trying to collect his thoughts and understand what just happened. Your face heats up feeling like a complete fool. 

“I’m so sorry. I just— This is why you need to—” However, before you can even finish your sentence, he’s pulling you back into his embrace. The warmth of his body makes you melt as you taste his lips, fingers scrunching in the baby blue t-shirt hanging off his body. The tension from inside of you is relieved as your hand goes to drape around his neck as you let out the slightest of moans. It’s then that he pulls away, a string of saliva following.

Nanami’s brown eyes stare into you, no longer filled with the youth of his younger days like how you’ve seen in his photo albums. However, you can see how they brighten up with you in his hold. In a low and raspy voice, “If this was what you were scared about, I would’ve assured you a long time ago that you’re safe with me.”

He plants another wet and chaste kiss on your lips, adding, “Don’t worry. I’ll be sure to take care of you for the rest of the years I have.”

With your son fast asleep, the two of you become so enamoured in each other’s lust that reality slips past. Nanami’s veiny hands grip onto your hips with purpose and pull you closer into him. From the time he’s been spending with you, you’ve made him realize how much he’s missed out on companionship. How he had been so occupied with work and providing for Yuuji that he never took the chance to really connect with anyone. Aside from the occasional women and a few sporadic dates, his life was one of loneliness. Your lips are soft and full of life, transporting him back to his late twenties— blond hair and unblemished skin, green-tinted spectacles that hid his beautiful coffee-toned eyes. He was stressed out then, but imagine if he had found someone like you back then? Closer in age and held the same stupor that would make him realize his mistakes much sooner, he wouldn’t have ended up in the predicament he is in now. Kissing on a girl that’s nearly half his age, the mother of his grandson. He should feel ashamed of himself— disgusted— but his body craves this. Craves you. 

You manage to guide him to your bedroom without his knowing, his mind so preoccupied that the moment you gently shut the door, he’s disoriented. The two of you have moved so seamlessly in the heat of things that it makes this all too real. But still, even when you’re sitting on the edge of the bed and he’s climbing over your body, he can’t stop himself. Lust-blown eyes that gaze into yours, he breathes heavily. “You’d willingly love an old man like me?”

“Yes,” you breathe with a faint nod. “Need someone to take care of me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?” Nanami breathes. “You’d let an old man use this beautiful body of yours— ruin it with his old cock?”

You go to cup his face, eyes gleaming when you say, “You could never do that, Kento.”

He grounds his erection into your covered heat, pressing his lips down on yours before haughtily saying, “Oh, but I want to.” 

And your eyes say it all, giving him permission as you feel the fire that ignites in between your legs. Arousal continues to build up as Nanami’s breathing gets heavier. Aging lines that protrude the skin, cheeks sucked and exhausted eyes that reflect those many years of labor. You remember the words of your ex telling you about him, speaking so highly of his father and how he worked endlessly. Yuuji always said that his father needed a break, and finally does it feel like he is. Spending leisure time buried inside of your pussy.

Nanami knows he has to be careful not to strain the bones inside of his body, knowing that one bad ache can be detrimental. However, he’s eager— way too eager to have a taste. Traversing down your body, he stops himself at the hem of your shorts. One leg on the floor with the other knee pressing into the mattress of the bed, he grabs at the elastic of it and slowly drags it down. Your hips rise up from the sheets as your thighs press together before he’s flinging the two garments down to the ground. Your body was slowly getting back to what you used to recognize it for. After going through labor, your stomach had felt like it became a deflated balloon, gaining more and more stretch marks than you originally had. When you took Nanami up on his offer to help you, he encouraged you to get out of the house as much as you can. It had helped, but you were still coming to terms with the new you.

However, with every gentle touch that Nanami places on your body, it feels like nothing has changed. The way he caresses your waist, gently tugging you down to his lips. Hands pushing at the hem of your shirt and making it rise as your stomach is exposed. The gentle kiss to your left inner thigh and the soft rub to your stomach is a simple gesture that makes sparks fly. He spreads your legs slowly, but his eyes glued on yours as his hands come to travel higher up. He’s so close to you, his breath dancing over your pussy as he mumbles, moreso to himself than to you, “God, so beautiful.”

Simple gestures and simple words that give you enough validation as you say his name, Kento. Your legs tense up before relaxing, your body beginning to jitter the more he gets so transfixed with it. It’s only for the palm of his hand to stop and relax you before spreading you open even further. “Don’t get shy on me now, love. I’ll take care of you, just like you need to be.”

The first kiss to your lips is short, a simple taste test to your nectar— you’re the finest honey he’s ever tasted. Your arousal has him addicted, pressing his nose into your clit as he inhales your scent. Intoxicating and tantalizing, he finds himself getting lost in a matter of seconds. Your body shudders, making your spine arch with the way his tongue presses down into your warmth. One hand digging into your sheets while the next knots inside of his hair, pulling at the thinning strands of his scalp. However, he couldn’t care less as he finds himself impeccably lost. Your short tugs has him moaning, a sign of encouragement for you to continue those savoury sounds as his hand goes in search for the next to guide it where it belongs. 

With both of your hands tangled in what used to be blond, your legs trap him inside your heat as his arms wrap around your waist. There’s an ache settling inside of his legs, but he keeps himself still as his pink tongue prods at your folds. You’re a mewling mess as your eyes are shut and basking in this bliss. Your breathing becomes heavy as you can only think of the man making you feel so good. You gnaw on your bottom lip in hopes to ground yourself as his tongue swirls against your labia, nose nuzzling into your clit as he presses the muscle deeper and deeper within you. 

Wet sounds start to seep within the air as Nanami’s not caught up for breath once as you’ve got each other locked in each other’s hold. His moans are deep and from the soul, his arms tightening around your waist as he can feel it before you can. That coil deep within your body, shortly undoing and bringing you to the brink. Arousal dressing his taste buds, your juices continue to seep out as your back arches off the bed and your fingers get tighter. “K-Ken… Kento!”

“I know,” he pulls up for a first. “And I’ve got you.”

Nanami tips you over the edge, knocking you out of breath the moment he presses a finger to your clit. A high-pitched gasp leaving your mouth as you close your eyes shut and cry out in pleasure. “Kento, ohmigosh!”

You drag out a long-winded ‘oh,’ building up pride in the older man as a smirk graces his lips as he laps up your orgasm. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull as your upper body falls back into the sheets and your chin points to the ceiling. Your breath is ragged as you slowly fall from your high and feel the bed shuffle. A deep groan settles from off of his chest as Nanami has to take a moment to stretch out his limbs. He reaches to pull off his shirt and undo his pants, the tight-fitted boxer briefs resting on his lower half when your eyes start to flutter open once more. Chest rising and falling, you admire the chub of the man before you. 

He dropped the habit of working out in his early sixties the moment he realized the amount of strain it was putting on his body. And no longer did he care for it, not bothering to wake up in the early mornings or get ready in the evenings for it. Instead, he opted in for daily walks and called it a day. But even those had become a biweekly hobby. He was no longer sharp and strong as he used to be, but the remnants of it and the roundness of his body was more comforting than ever. Eyes lingering to the bulge inside of his undergarments, you ogled at the size of it, white hairs leading down to it. Inching towards you, he brought your attention to his face. Your glossy eyes no longer transfixed on the length hiding under the elastic cloth as he inched down to you. One hand cupping your face as he breathes heavily, giving you a once over. 

“My son,” he starts before clearing his throat. “My son never knew how to handle a woman like you.”

It was gradual. You didn’t know when he had managed to slip free of his underwear. “Could’ve never taken care of a woman like you.” 

You didn’t know when he managed to hike your legs up over his waist, his tip kissing at your clit and making you absentmindedly shudder. “That’s why you need me.”

It isn’t until you feel the press of his cock head inching inside of your heat that you’re taken out of your trance, your mouth falling open into an ‘O’ as a whimper leaves your lips. “Only I can take care of you. Be everything my son isn’t— a man.” 

“Yeah,” you agree with a meek nod, feeling the intrusion of his cock seer through you. 

“Yeah?” Nanami hums, pressing deeper and deeper into you until he’s fully sheathed. His breathing staggers a bit before regaining control. “I’m the only man you need. The only man that can give you what you need, hm?”

“Yes, Kento,” you whine and whimper, feeling how he pauses to get you acclimated. “I only need you. You’re perfect for me.”

One more chaste kiss before he’s pulling out of you, the head prodding at your entrance. A thought he’s unaware he’s said out loud, And you’re perfect for me. 

His length is thick and stretches open your walls, making you feel fuller than you’ve ever felt with any of your past partners. His hips don’t move with that same motion he had in his younger years. No longer languid movements, but growing rougher in age. Each thrust is calculated and hard against your pussy. His deep groans and grunts make your mind spiral and your eyes constantly flutter as each sound spills from his mouth. At some point, he comes to hold your face and does nothing else. A small and simple gesture that makes you melt into him. 

Your pussy, while used, sucks him up in a tight grip that doesn’t make him want to ever leave it. He finds himself stuck at the thought of leaving the sweetness that it is, your cunt a gift to him from heavens themself. Your hands wrap around his neck, nails digging into his fragile skin and sure to bruise as your legs tense up around him, his eyes flutter shut. “Gosh, it’s like your pussy was made for me to enjoy.”

And when he brings you to orgasm, you entrap him with your legs and call for his release as well. You milk of what he’s worth, letting him empty himself out into you without any concerns of the repercussions. You let out high-pitched mewls and moans when he rolls to the other side of the bed, having to take a moment to catch his breath. However, with your body running ablaze, a heat still sparked inside of you, you tiredly move yourself to hover over his frame and catch him off guard. “Wha— What are you doing?” 

“I need more of you.” The tip of his cock still leaking his seed and your pussy dripping of your intermingled cum, you press your cunt against his length. Grinding yourself against his softening length in hopes to liven him up again, you watch as he chuckles exhaustedly. “A pretty thing like you will surely lead me to my deathbed.”

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[sturnlsstuff]

GHOSTFACE!CHRIS HAS BEEN IGNORING YOU & YOU FINALLY DECIDED TO CONFRONT HIM ABOUT IT.

[ angst, cursing, mentions of murder ]

the feeling of being ignored never bothered you much, usually if someone did that to you your response was simple— you did the same. you didn't care at all, not going to waste your time on someone who didn't want to talk to you.

so why did you feel like this now?

chris didn't talk to you for over a week. at first, you were too busy with your classes and the material you had to catch up on to notice it, but eventually the fact that he wasn't texting you back at all started to weigh on you. the feeling of not knowing why made you anxious, catching yourself at thinking that maybe he had his own 'stuff' to take care of, but it wasn't a problem for him before. so something was going on.

after a few more ignored messages again, you decide to take matters into your own hands and that's how you found yourself at the frat house, entering chris's room, which turned out to be empty. you sigh, deciding to just wait until he comes back from wherever he is.

you look around his room, rolling your eyes at the empty pepsi cans and clothes laying all over the place, which you decide to pick up with the intention of organizing them just at least a little bit, but then the door opens and your eyes fall on chris. shirtless, sweatpants hanging loosely on his hips, a bag of chips in his hand as he stuffs a handful into his mouth, slamming the door shut with his foot.

his eyes finally find you awkwardly standing there, slight surprise on his face before he hides it. stopping in the middle of the room, he looks at his clothes in your hands. "the fuck you doin'?" he frowns, licking his fingers clean.

"you've got quite a mess here," you reply casually.

"and who are you, my mother?" he scoffs, walking over to you and ripping the clothes from your hands only to throw them back to the floor, almost daring you to try and pick them up again.

"no?"

"then don't act like one," he flops down onto the bed, putting the bag of chips next to him and reaching for his phone, completely ignoring your presence. and that just confirmed your suspicions— he really had been ignoring you this past week. you had to find out why, knowing it couldn't be your fault.

"what's your problem?"

"my problem?" there's a hint of annoyance in his tone while he continues scrolling, without giving any glance in your direction. "you're the one who's here when i didn't even tell you to come over."

"well, it'd be hard when you don't even reply to me."

"i'm a busy guy."

"for sure," now there's a scoff leaving your lips. "busy killing people?"

this makes him finally look at you, clearly pissed off, his jaw clenched. "the fuck do y'want, huh?" he sits up, not looking away for even a second. "coming here, tryna arrange my things, as if you owned the place and now you can't even mind your business?"

"can't mind my business?" you raise your eyebrows, shaking your head in disbelief. "my business is the fact you're ignoring me without a reason and act like an asshole."

"m'not ignorin' you, just clearly got overwhelmed spendin' everyday with your bitchy ass, can't understand that?" he stands up, "even nick asks me why don't i have time for hanging out anymore and m'not dreamin' of explaining why."

his words were like a punch to the gut. you were aware you both got a little carried away and were seeing each other constantly, but it wasn't that big of a deal. and it affects you harder than you'd like to admit. "then maybe quit being a ghostface so you'll have time for your brothers."

he takes a step closer to you, tension radiating from his body, voice low and gruff, "who do you think you are, huh? jus' admit y'want my attention all the time 'n stop stickin' nose into my life."

"oh, your attention is the last thing i want, don't worry." you speak in your usual sarcastic tone, trying not to show how his words were making you feel. "act like a man for once and at least tell me if you want this to end, instead of acting like a child who can't communicate."

"want what to end? us having sex? why, when is the only thing y'can offer me?"

chris's words hit too close to home, reminding you that what was going on between you two was only sexual. you knew it, didn't expect anything more— but you felt like that slut everyone thought you were when your ex spread false rumors about you. and what was even worse was the fact chris knew it while saying that.

you hold his gaze, ignoring how your heart sinks. "fuck you," you hiss through your teeth, putting all the hate you felt for him into it, desperate to hurt him as some form of defense. "you're such a pathetic hypocrite, chris. explaining your actions by the fact that other guys have no morals and aren't respectful, when you do the same. you're the biggest asshole of them all and you probably hate yourself for it so you take it out on them. so what can you offer me besides sex? your awful attitude? no, thanks."

chris falls completely silent, almost giving the impression that he didn't hear you, but from the annoyance written all over his face, you knew that he did hear very well. he wasn't able to ignore this like he was ignoring your texts. "the only pathetic thing here is the fact you claim to hate me yet you came here."

"oh, i still hate you, don't worry." you reply.

"then the fuck you doing here?"

it was a good question— too good for your liking, it made you look like a fool. if you didn't care, you wouldn't even think of coming here to talk to him.

"wasting time, apparently." you say, hating how your voice cracked, the anger growing within you, while chris's expression stays unreadable. "you're clearly too immature to talk like normal people, so—"

"yeah, yeah," he scoffs and rolls his eyes, his tone sharp, like he was exhausted by the very thought of explaining this. "look, i thought you were smarter than this," he says, his words cutting through the space between you. "i never promised you anything, not once. you ain't my girlfriend, and honestly, i thought you got that by now, but clearly i was wrong. not my fault you got attached or some shit, so quit that stupid talk, 'cause i don't owe you anything. it gotta finally click in your head, 'cus m'not sayin' this again."

his words hanging in the air, heavy, like they'd been pressed into the glass. they're echoing in your head, louder than the ringing silence in the room, while you try to feel anything— anger, maybe, or relief— but there was nothing anymore. you already knew this, chris wasn't your boyfriend, you had no right to be mad at him for not replying to you, but the feeling of being ignored by him weighed on you.

you just stare at him, knowing he's probably expecting some kind of response, maybe even another sarcastic remark, that would show him how much you don't care. because you don't— right? you should laugh it off, tell him to go to hell and move on with your life. you never expected promises from anyone, least of all him. you weren't surprised, should've been okay with the reality of it all, knowing that you didn't want to be with chris, never even expecting that, but damn. it still stung.

your chest tightening, a dull ache spreading through you, a small half-laughing, half-sighing breath leaving your lips. it wasn't supposed to feel like this, the disappointment you felt flickered in your eyes.

"right. got it," you nod, turning away to leave. and that was it— you wanted to say more than that, to show him you're not aching inside, but the other words got stuck, caught in the mess of your chest.

and you left his room, pretending you didn't feel every word he'd just said as if it was a weight you'd been carrying all along.

autor note: uh oh what's going onnnnnn.... 🤨

taglist: @certifiedstarrr @chrislovespepsi @le4hsblog @sturnsxbitvh @sweetlikesug4rvenom @xaristhings @mattsfavbitchhh @lvrsturniolo @r0s3luvr @slut4brunettes @madisonsturnioloss @chrispillowprincess @sturnioloslutttt4 @ashlishes @mattsbitchh @hi-people-who-are-alive @stellward123 @inssanely @matts-girlfriend @imnotalive420 @emely9274 @shadowthesim @yunkilm @sophiaxsblog @namelesssav @demyackerman @fratbrochrisgf @lvrsturniolo @chrisweetheart @chrisfavoritewhore @sturnslutz @ncm9696 @certified-sturniolo @mattsobvimyfav @swagalicious260 @giannalovessturniolo @sophand4n4 @brazyturtleneck @jocelyncsblog @sophand4n4 @giannalovessturniolo @alesturniolos @ilovenmcs @seluky10 @chriss-slutt @ribbonlovergirl @icrazy106

[spindle-girl]

Alec predicted Piggot, but not Sophia

How the PRT treats Sophia is something that used to be debated a fair amount a few years back when I was on other forums. Both in the canon scenario and potential what ifs that Wildbow answered to an extent. I don't think it's too hard to piece together if you're going back and looking for any mention of Sophia/Shadow Stalker, but it is spaced out between a bunch of different arcs and some of what Wildbow said got misquoted so I wanted to compile it all into one go.

Lots of quotes with explanations below, so the short of it is:

Alec wanted Sophia to keep quiet about the extent he controlled her for and guessed how Piggot would react in order to scare Sophia from speaking up. She didn't, but Alec turned out to be right. Piggot dropped her, Shadow Stalker no longer being worth it to keep around, and to sell that, she ensured Sophia was sent to jail where before she would have stayed as a member of the Wards. The biggest change for that being that she was compromised by Regent.

We know from 9.1 that Director Piggot believes her role as Director is ensure parahumans are integrated with regular people:

“You likely know Director Armstrong in Boston, how he tends to prioritize research and understanding parahumans. I concern myself with more concrete affairs. Public relations, parahumans as a part of America.”

At the end of 10.x, Alec's interlude where he controls Sophia up to the very end, he nails this attitude Piggot has and uses it to put doubt in Sophia's mind to stop her from telling someone and getting help:

“Here’s the thousand dollar question,” he mused, as he began following the steps outlined in the video, putting the knot together, “Will your boss tell your mom what happened with me controlling you?  If she keeps her mouth shut, well, this paints a pretty ugly picture, doesn’t it?” A tear rolled down his cheek.  He scoffed a little, blinked the tears out of her eyes. “But if she does tell, if she lets mommy know, then shit hits the fan.  It looks pretty fucking bad for her, and if word gets out, it’s as bad as it gets for public relations.  Scary, dangerous parahumans.  Not just lives at risk, but you could be controlled.  Ooooh, scary.  Nobody would ever be able to trust their coworkers or neighbors.  It’s the kind of stuff they want to keep quiet.”

Then, he threatens Sophia to keep quiet about him controlling her up to this point, telling her to sell the lie he told the other Undersiders, that he was going to let her go after walking her across the city, in order to keep the heat off him and maybe so his teammates don't find out he lied:

“I can feel your emotions.  I know I’ve convinced you.  You leave town, and if you don’t want me paying a visit, wherever you wind up, you keep your mouth closed about tonight.  They don’t need to know this was all my doing.  Things get messy that way, yeah?”

However, in later talks with Piggot (14.4, 16.3) we find that Sophia did tell her about him controlling her to threaten her mother and later herself with the suicide fake-out. Alec got it wrong. She trusted Piggot with that info, presumably hoping Piggot would get her mother to believe her story about being body-jacked when Alec used her to threaten her and maybe so that they'd go after Alec more seriously:

“The power has range.  I suspect the creator can stay miles away and still manage some control, but ventures closer for voyeuristic purposes or because it offers more control and faster response times.” “Much like Regent, hmm?” Tattletale paused.  “So you know that.” From the tone of the conversation, I would have expected a ‘No, you just told me.‘, but Tattletale wouldn’t have done that.  More likely that her power confirmed her thoughts. “Shadow Stalker debriefed us. What do we know about this woman who controls-”

~14.4

“I don’t think so,” Director Piggot replied, turning to level a glare at him.  She looked almost feral, even as her voice was controlled.  “See, I know you might try to kill me if these others weren’t around.  But the others won’t let you.  There’s Regent too: little to no compunctions, as we saw with Shadow Stalker.” Her eye darted to Tattletale, then to Grue, and finally to me. “Do they know the full story?” the Director asked. “No,” Tattletale replied.  She sighed a little. “Tell us what?” I asked. “I’m interested, too,” Grue added. The Director only smiled.

~16.3

So Piggot knows, but Alec was right about her having to make a choice. Does Piggot tell Sophia's mother, letting her know that her child didn't really try and attack her, that her body was stolen and she couldn't do a thing but watch?

Nope!

“Because of what happened, because she was still reeling from the time she spent as your meat puppet, she attacked her mom, who called the authorities.  They caught up just in time to catch her in her room, electrical cord around her neck.  Cost Shadow Stalker her probation, meaning she got stuck in some parahuman detention center until she’s eighteen.  And word is her mom doesn’t want her back when she’s finished the three-year sentence.  Last straw and everything.  Her life, put on hold, her family shattered.  Maybe she was damaged like you said, but you took her captive and tormented her until she went off the deep end.”

~18.3

She takes the other route Alec laid out. She kept quiet and used the opportunity to get rid of a compromised, potentially PR-damaging tool. And I think that's the real reason why she got sent to juive, because we know from Weld in 10.3 that Piggot wanted to keep Sophia around before finding out she was compromised despite attacking Vista and that it was Weld pushing for something to be done:

“No. This is serious. You assaulted a team member. I’m not about to let that slide.” ... A few seconds passed before she finally asked, “What are you going to do?” “After these guys are securely in custody, we’re going to have words with the Director. She wants you on this team, for whatever reason, so I don’t expect your probation will be broken, but there’s going to be consequences.”

There is the matter of the text messages Alec sent to the school and the police that may have helped changed how Piggot reacted, but it's doubtful because why would either of those institutions care enough about a months-old bullying incident with the city in the state it was in to contact the PRT about it? Dragon didn't mention informing Piggot either when she found it in her interlude.

Also, Piggot already knows Sophia was bullying a fellow student at this point. Her "guardian" in 5.4 was sent by the PRT for the school meeting and Armsmaster talked about knowing the incident in 7.x, Miss Militia's interlude.

None of what Wildbow said out of text would counter this either:

It's hard to unseat a crook-turned-cape once they're on board, because then you run the risk that the public discovers you're bringing less than savory types on board. Besides, in the PRT's view, she was more or less playing ball. Getting therapy, using tranq darts, attending patrols (if alone), attending her track team, and going out to movies with her best friend. If something came up at school, it was generally seen as a bump in the road to recovery. This is why she was as pissed as she was over the meeting at the school where everything came up. It straight up overturned her act. In a calmer situation, if things hadn't gone shit-sideways, stuff would have gone through and things would have changed. Not enough, but they would have.​ If Taylor had pushed and pushed and pushed (or if Taylor had joined the team and made an issue of it), maybe something would have happened, but even then... what do you do? It goes back to the question of how problematic it is to get rid of troublesome recruits. Sophia stays on the team in an official capacity, makes appearances, but generally it's for show, and she isn't allowed to patrol anymore (at which point she gets restless and snaps, which the PRT may or may not anticipate, depending on what's on the table).​

Had Leviathan not shown up in Brockton Bay, the PRT would eventually address the bullying issue brought up in 5.4, but their efforts wouldn't amount to much. It's contrasted with the scenario of her getting benched, where that would only happen if Taylor kept making an issue of it for the PRT or if she joined the team, giving Piggot another Ward to use. So if the text messages were relevant enough to fall under "If Taylor had pushed and pushed and pushed", Sophia would either get benched, or accounting for Regent being able to control her, just get sent to another team in another city. It would not be her getting sent to jail.

What's more, Piggot didn't just keep it from Sophia's family. None of the heroes, Wards or Protectorate, know about it either (15.x, 18.3). They're under the impression that Sophia had a breakdown after being let go and went home and threatened her mother before trying to kill herself.

“I’m tired of losing people,” Vista said. “We lost Gallant. Aegis too, and Velocity, Dauntless, Battery…” “Yeah. And Shadow Stalker,” Triumph offered. “She left,” Clockblocker said. “I’d still consider her a casualty,” Triumph said. “We might not have liked her, but she was one of us, and the enemy basically took her from us.”

~15.x

“Our focus right now is you.  You, who drove Shadow Stalker into a corner, to the point where she flipped out on her mom and tried to hang herself with an electrical cord.”

~18.3

They also weren't aware of her using lethal ammunition, also shown in 18.3, so she wouldn't have been jailed for that either:

“She was a hero because the other choice was juvie,” I said.  “In the months leading up to our kidnapping her, she was using real crossbow bolts.  Shooting them at people, Grue included.  If I remember right, she wasn’t supposed to have or be using any lethal ammo, on penalty of jail time.” “Do you have evidence?” Miss Militia asked. “Would it matter?  Does it matter?  Judging by what I saw, in my limited interaction with her, she was pretty psychotic.  There’s no way you guys spent all that time with her without something crossing your radar.  The night we took her, I baited her out and she tried to cut my throat.” “I understand where you’re coming from,” Miss Militia said, “But again, I have to ask for evidence.  I can’t take you at your word, there’s procedures to be followed.”

Piggot knows it wasn't Sophia that attacked her mom, she is already aware of the bullying at school and a few more text messages wouldn't change that with the city in the state it's in, Weld is having to push Piggot to act on Sophia attacking Vista, and she doesn't know about the lethal ammo. She still sent her to jail.

None of the above mattered to Piggot in making that decision. What mattered was the bad PR. That word could get out if people thought Sophia had been hurt, rather than her doing the hurting. If word did get out, then civilians would see the PRT failing to capture Regent and it would hurt their authority. But by ensuring a parahuman who "snapped" was successfully sent to jail, it shows that the PRT is able to address any problems within it's purview. Becoming convict is another way to add doubt to Sophia's story and being stuck in jail would keep her from easily talking to others about it.

Sophia risked telling the truth about what happened to her, but she couldn't operate in Brockton Bay anymore. She was compromised. She was useless and potentially harmful to Piggot's goals, so Piggot got rid of her.

[guess-my-next-obsession]

endure & survive | iii. close call

pairing: post-outbreak!joel miller x single mother!reader

chapter content: MINORS DNI, written in dual POV/first person POV, no description/name given to reader, reader is a single mother, age gap (twenty-ish years), gun talk/threats, violence, threats of SA (not from joel or reader), descriptions of blood, death (no main characters)

word count: 3.4k

series masterlist | previous chapter

READER 

I wake to the sound of a dull thump outside and a colder bed than I’m used to. My eyes bolt open as I reach for my son beside me, only for my hand to land against the mattress. I waste no time in getting to my feet, my boots stomping across the rickety floor until I’m opening the bathroom door, but he’s not there either.  

Shit. 

At the sound of laughter coming from outside the cabin, I whip the front door open and take in the sight of Colt and Ellie tossing snowballs at one another from their respective snow forts on either side of the lawn. I want to feel relieved, want to feel happy that he’s having fun and being a kid in a way he doesn’t always get to be, but I’m too protective and paranoid to feel anything but anger.  

“Colt!” I shout, not violently but loud enough for him to know I mean business. Never in his life has he left the cabin without me. I don’t know what’s come over him.  

I watch as Colt attempts to hide behind the mound of snow in front of him, as if we hadn’t just made eye contact from across the yard.  

“Colt, I’m giving you to the count of three. One...two...thr—” 

“Fine!” he shouts, popping his head over the mound as he stands and stomps his way across the snow to the edge of the porch.  

“What do you think you’re doing out here?” I scold, scanning the yard for any sign of Joel. Not that I trust the guy to watch over my kid. I find him on the side of the cabin, chopping wood with the rusty old axe I’ve been neglecting this winter.  

“We were just playing,” Colt pouts, kicking his boots into the snow. “I heard Ellie outside when I was sleeping and wanted to come out and see what they were doing. I knew you’d say no if I woke you up, so I just—” 

“Decided you’d give yourself permission?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest. He looks so damn adorable and innocent peering up at me with his father’s eyes that I can’t help but soften a bit. Reaching a hand out, I cup his cheek and give it a gentle brush of my thumb. “Babe, that’s not how this works. I don’t say no just to be mean. I want you safe, so when I tell you you can’t do something, trust that it’s for a good reason.” 

His only response is a mumbled, “Okay.” 

“And FYI, I wouldn’t have said no,” I add with a half-smile. “I might’ve been grumpy about having to get up and come out here with you, but I wouldn’t have said no.” 

“So…I can keep playing?” he asks, his eyes brightening along with the smile that stretches across his face.  

“Yes,” I sigh, folding my hand back against my chest. “I have to speak with Joel, anyways.” 

Colt doesn’t seem to give much of a shit about what’s on my to-do list this morning as he bolts back to his fort and shouts that the fight is back on to Ellie.  

Stomping my way down the porch, snow crunches beneath my boots as I make my way to where Joel’s standing, chopping wood. “I’d appreciate if you made sure Colt had my permission before letting him come out here.” 

Joel pauses what he’s doing and turns to stare at me with furrowed brows and a blank look in his eyes. “It’s not my job to watch over your kid.” 

“No, but any decent human being would double check that a kid’s parent knows where they’re at,” I counter, staring back at him just as gruffly.  

“He said you knew. Not my fault he lied.” 

“You’re a dick, you know that?”  

“Been told a few times,” he says, turning back to the log in front of him and raising his axe in the air to strike at it. I don’t flinch when the wood splits in two, even if he hit it a bit more forcefully than was necessary. “We done here?” 

“You’re—” Rude. Callous. Arrogant. Unfortunately good looking. A nightmare cocktail of traits. I settle on keeping it simple, though. “An asshole.” 

“And you’re fuckin’ naive if you think that kid’s going to be safe out here forever,” he counters, loading up another log without missing a beat. “Ever heard the story of Rupunzel? Keepin’ him locked away in your cabin isn’t gonna teach him a thing about survival.” 

“Oh, I guess I should be putting a gun in his hands and taking him out for target practice, then?” I step closer, fueled by the wild desire to yank that axe out of his grasp and chop him down with it. For civility’s sake, I restrain myself from doing just that. “You have no idea what it’s like to be a kid and have to do the kinds of things it takes to survive out here—how it fucks up the mind. I do. And as long as I have a shot at preserving his youth, protecting his innocence, I’m going to do all that I can to keep him away from all the shit that’s turned people like you into cold, unfeeling assholes.” 

Joel’s only response is a scoff, a humorless smirk, and a strike of the axe through the log in front of him. When it becomes clear that he has no interest in continuing our argument—I'm clueless as to why I wish he did—I turn on my feet and head back to the porch to stew and watch over my apparently hopeless son. He’s still playing with Ellie, but instead of throwing snowballs at each other, they’ve moved on to building a snowman. Colt’s giggling and smiling like I’ve never seen before, and the sound is healing.  

I don’t give a shit what Joel has to say about my parenting. Colt is happy and safe, and at six years old, that’s all he needs to be.  

JOEL 

I’m not used to feeling remorse. It’s been years since I’ve been forced to tap into these sickly kinds of feelings—dangerous feelings. But that kid is turning me soft.  

It’s the only explanation for why I’m standing here scolding myself for being such an ass to our host. I hadn’t meant to attack her parenting skills. I remember how it felt to be judged and scrutinized for the way I chose to raise Sarah by myself rather than make it work with her mother. I remember how hard it was to do it alone, how every decision I made felt like it would end up changing her life.  

So, why the fuck was I coming at her like that?  

Maybe it’s the way she’s so unflinching in approaching me. Even with an axe in my hand—a stranger’s hand—she strolled right up to me and let me have it. Her fearlessness made me feel a little defensive, as if subconsciously I knew who would come out as the victor if we were to go at it. I might know how to fight, might have hands made for survival, but she’s got something I’ve lost long ago.  

She’s got something to fight for.  

Ellie’s the closest thing I’ve come to that in a long fucking time. But it’s not the same when I know she’s capable of fighting, too.  

That little boy out in the yard hasn’t seen a fight in his life, and it needs to stay that way.  

“Still taking your old man frustrations out on these logs?” Ellie’s voice is a welcomed interruption from my thoughts. She’s covered in snow from head to toe, but she hasn’t looked more like I kid in all the time I’ve known her.  

“Somethin’ like that,” I reply, swinging the axe into the stump and lodging it there before turning to face her. “Probably got until this evenin’ to get settled before the storm rolls in. Just tryin’ to make sure everybody’s got enough wood.” 

“Thoughtful,” Ellie says, though judging by the look she shoots towards the yard where Colt and his mother are making snow angels, she wants to say more. 

“Out with it,” I sigh, propping a hand on my hip.  

“Do you have to be such a dick? I mean, I don’t expect you to be Mr. Friendly all of a sudden, but she is kind of going out of her way so that we don’t freeze to death out here.” 

“I’m not doin’ it on purpose,” I admit with a shrug and a shake of my head. “Just not used to actin’ any different.” 

“Well get used to it, please. Or at least learn how to act like you’re civilized. We’re only here for a couple more days. I’d really appreciate if we—” 

Silencing herself, Ellie whips her head over to the tree line behind the shed, her eyebrows narrowed. I turn that way, too, even if whatever she heard went completely missed by my shitty hearing.  

“What?” I manage, keeping my voice a whisper. Slowly, she inches towards the shed, opening the door and grabbing the pistol out of her backpack before tipping her head towards the cabin in a silent demand that I follow her.  

Grabbing the axe out of the tree stump, I make my way over to the porch and wait for her to fill me in on what kind of threat we’re dealing with this time. Our host and her son seem to be aware of the noise as well, the two of them joining us in eerie silence.  

“You wanna tell me what the fuck’s goin’ on?” I whisper to Ellie, keeping my voice deadly silent.  

“You can’t hear?” Our host asks, her face scrunched up like she was disgusted by something.  

“Old guy’s a little hard of hearing,” Ellie says dismissively. “It’s a group of dudes. Just beyond the trees.” 

“There’s a clearing thirty or so yards that way. They’re probably waiting there,” our host says, her gaze lingering on mine for a beat before falling to her son. “Listen to me, baby. I need you to go inside, lock yourself in the bathroom, and don’t come out until I tell you it’s okay. Do you understand?” 

“What’s going on, mama?” Long gone is the happy kid that was playing in the snow with Ellie. Now, he’s just a ball of fear.  

“We’ve just gotta go check something out, okay?”  

“No,” he whines, latching onto her leg as she tries to usher him into the cabin. “I don’t want to be alone.” 

I look over at Ellie, catching her frowning at the boy. I know she likes to be involved in the chaos, but right now, I think there’s a better job for her. “Stay with the kid.” 

“What?” Ellie whips her eyes to mine. “But I—” 

“You’ve got a gun,” I whisper. “If anything happens to us, you’ll be able to protect the two of you.” 

She only looks like she’s about to argue for a second before Colt’s hands find her arm. Ellie melts a little as he clings to her the way he was clinging to his mother just seconds before, and with a sigh, she gives me a solitary nod. “Be careful. Both of you.” 

READER 

With weapons in hand—a shotgun in mine, an axe in Joel’s—we make our way through the snow as silently as we can. There’s no telling if this group means us any harm, but with them this close to discovering my safe haven, I can’t take any chances.  

It’s one of the uglier truths that come along with this new world, but only one side is walking away from this fight today. Joel and I, however at odds, have to protect ours. At whatever cost. 

As we’re nearing the clearing, the voices Ellie and I had heard earlier grow louder, causing Joel and I to glance at each other. He tips his chin towards the large pine tree beside me, a silent request that I hide myself behind it, and moves over to one nearer to him.  

“It’s a whole little family they’ve got over there,” a man says, his accent distinctly southern. It’s not like Joel’s subtle drawl; this guy sounds like he’s straight out of Deliverance. “Should be easy enough, once we get rid of the dad.” 

I glance at Joel, finding his jaw ticking and fingers gripping his axe tighter. I haven’t been particularly afraid of him in the twenty-four hours I’ve known him, but now I can see why he’s lasted so long out here. Take the kid away, give him a weapon, make a threat, and he turns into murder incarnate right in front of your eyes. It’s as terrifying as it is attractive.  

Maybe that says more about me than I realize. 

“I say we kill the dad, then the kids, then we have some fun with the mom before takin’ her out too,” the same man continues, and my stomach sinks. Not just because of what they plan on doing to me, but the thought of them coming anywhere near Colt and Ellie.  

Not on my fucking watch.  

Joel’s eyes meet mine and he gives me a subtle shake if his head. A silent promise that I can’t help but believe he’ll keep.  

“We gotta be smart, now,” another, older voice chimes in, sounding like the crackling of a fire. Clearly, this one’s the leader of the bunch. “We don’t know if they got guns. All we got is our knives. We need to wait until it’s dark out and they’re asleep to do anythin’.”  

Fucking cowards. And idiots. Now that I know I’m walking into a knife fight with a twelve-gauge, that sick feeling from before is long gone.  

Joel catches my attention, mouthing, “How many?” 

I peek around the tree and squint, spotting three men huddled around a small fire. There’s the oldest one, and then there are two identical looking men, save for the hundred pound difference in one of them. In another world, they’d look like a father and his twin sons on a camping retreat. In this world, though, they’re just three sick fucks looking to kill and pillage.  

I turn back to Joel and hold up three fingers, earning a solitary nod.  

“You got a clean shot?” he mouths, and I line up my scope to check it out.  

The eldest is up and pacing around now, stroking his beard while the twins sit there and watch. I can’t get a clean shot on him, but the younger ones are doable from the ten or so yards separating us.  

But the second I pull the trigger, they ones I don’t hit are going to be up and running.  

I give Joel a nod, keeping my gun lifted just like Kit taught me all those years ago. A skill I never wanted to be taught, but one I’m thankful thankful to have now that he’s gone. Joel raises his hand, counting down from five with his fingers before giving me the go ahead to shoot.  

And the minute I do, shit turns to chaos.  

JOEL 

I hardly have the chance to breathe before I’m being grabbed from behind, an arm handed around my throat threatening to suffocate me.  

There must’ve been another member of their group that we hadn’t seen, one waiting in the trees just in case. But judging by the shouts and slurs being hurled out into the air, I’m guessing that my new companion—or whatever the hell she is—has decent aim. Hell, she might’ve even taken him out in one shot.  

“Joel,” she gasps, her attention torn between the men we were watching and the one trying to wrestle me to the ground. But I don’t want her focus, not when she’s still got two men to handle. I’ll be able to fight this one off myself.  

“Shoot,” I choke out, kicking my boot backwards into the shin of my attacker.  

“Fuck,” he hisses, his grip loosening just enough for me to shove out of his hold. Facing him, I raise my axe and swipe at his legs, slicing the back of his knee. He shouts as he goes down onto one knee, calling out for his friends. “Fuck! Brady! Two out here!” 

A shot sounds, the bullet whizzing through the air.  

Then another.  

And another.  

Still, there are two voices hurling promises of pain and misery.  

She’s getting nervous now, her aim sloppy. I’m not looking at her, not as I strike clean through the man in front of me’s neck, cutting his head off in one harsh blow.  

It’s sickening—the sight, the blood, the feeling of tearing through flesh. But it’s either kill or be killed. And they plan to do a hell of a lot worse than kill my new companion.  

“Joel!” This time, her voice isn’t laced with concern for me. No, she’s scared for herself. And as I whip around to see why, I feel my stomach drop with dread.  

A man at least three times her size is rushing at her like a linebacker, ready to take her out.  

To take her away from her son.  

From me.  

Fuck that.  

I charge at him like a bull, hitting him from the side right before he runs right through her. She drops her gun in the process of scrambling back, her eyes wide as she watches me straddle him, my fists pounding his face into the snow until he no longer looks human.  

“Get the fucking gun!” I shout, still fighting off the hands trying to clasp around my neck. I hear her scramble to the gun, but not before the final intruder—the oldest one—stomps his foot into the barrel. Right as I deliver the final blow to his friend’s skull.  

“Y’all thought it was okay to kill my boys?” His voice is pure evil, pure grit. If I were a bit more hillbilly, it might’ve sounded like me. “You got any idea what I’m gonna do to y’all to pay you back? Startin’ with you, sugar.”  

I’m panting and sore, my knuckles bloodied and teeth bared as I watch him kick her chest with enough force to break a rib. She lands against the soft snow and coughs up some blood, but her eyes don’t flicker with pain. No, they’re alight with fire. Promises of sweet vengeance.  

“I’ll leave him alive long enough for him to watch what I’m about to do to you,” the old man says, lifting the gun and slinging the strap over his shoulder before turning to me. “You think you’ll like that? Watchin’ me play with your toy?” 

“You lay a hand on her and I’ll take my sweet time in killin’ you,” I promise, spitting out a mouthful of blood, the crimson staining the pure snow.  

“How you plannin’ on doin’ that when you’re dead?” he chuckles, turning back to her. “That’s a real gentleman you got there. Too bad he can’t save you.” 

“No, but I fucking can.”  

Ellie.  

Fuck me, she shouldn’t be out here.  

And neither should the six year old at her side, holding a kitchen knife.  

Just as the old man opens his mouth to speak, Ellie shuts him up by putting a bullet through his forehead. Just like I taught her.  

“Shit.” Ellie’s shaking, her eyes fixed on the man she just killed as he falls the the ground, along side two of his dead companions, the other somewhere in the clearing alone. “Shit. Joel.” 

“I know,” I blurt out, rushing over to her and blocking both her and Colt’s view of the bodies. His mom gets onto her feet, stumbling and gripping her chest as she reaches her son.  

“Mama,” he cries, dropping the knife in the snow as he clings to her.  

And fuck me if the sight doesn’t make my chest ache.  

“C’mon,” I say, scanning the woods around us to make sure there aren’t any more surprises in store. “Into the cabin. Let’s go.” 

[lenorenevermore99]

Why 457 is actually valid af and not just a "joke" ship

I wanna start this by saying that I'm in no way, shape or form convinced 457 is canon nor I think there will be anything remotely romantic between the two of them in season 3. But people seem to think it's just a joke inside the fandom, while actually, their dynamic is pretty fucking valid and I want to analyze that in this post.

One of the most discussed things (if not the most) when it comes to this ship is the stares.

Some think this is the stare of love, others think In-ho just enjoys seeing him suffer. Well, let me tell you it is neither.

But before we delve into the way In-ho stares at Gi-hun, we first have to go back to talk about Hwang In-ho as a character.

As we know, Hwang In-ho is the Winner of the 2015 Squid Game. He went into the games so he could have the money to treat his sick, pregnant wife, much like Gi-hun who did the same for his sick mother. Both of them won the game, but both of them were too late to save the person they loved from a sad fate.

This lead to In-ho becoming the Frontman. We don't know exactly what happened in the timeframe between him winning and him becoming the Frontman, but we can safely assume that after loosing his wife, In-ho lost faith in humanity. The games have destroyed him, they turned him into the villain he is today.

And the thing is, when he looks at Gi-hun, he sees his past self in him. This was confirmed by both Lee Byung Hun (In-ho's actor) and the director of the show himself.

Or to be more precise, he sees his past self. He sees who he was before the games changed him. And this is what led to his fascination and obsession with Gi-hun, because here's the thing; the games traumatized Gi-hun, but they didn't break his faith and hope in humanity, like they did with In-ho himself.

And this is the thing that, in my view, both fascinates and deeply angers In-ho. Deep inside, subconsciously, he is thinking, "Why were YOU able to retain your hope in humanity? Why were you able to remain a good person when I couldn't?"

In-ho was genuine when he told Gi-hun he wished he'd try to be happy after winning (or to better say, surviving) the games. I find it especially interesting when he tells him "Just pretend it was all a dream."

In-ho wishes he could pretend it was all a dream, but he couldn't. Think about it: he's a billionaire, but he lives in a shitty, small apartment. He doesn't talk to his mother, he doesn't talk to his brother, he doesn't even go visit his wife at the cemetery. Pardon me for borrowing the phrase from The Hunger Games, but he's not living the life of a victor. whether it's because he feels guilty or something else, I guess we'll find out in the next season, but that's not the point. The point is, that In-ho wants Gi-hun to do what he wasn't able to do after he won. He wants him to be happy because he sees himself in Gi-hun.

This is the most important point in this post.

Now I wanna focus on these moments. During the second game, during mingle, and during the lights-out massacre, we see Gi-hun being absolutely destroyed over the players that were killed. He's undoubtedly blaming himself for it. And here we see In-ho staring at him, not with the look of love, not with joy at his suffering, but with sorrow. He's sad for Gi-hun, because he could have spared himself further suffering if he didn't stubbornly decide to go back into the games.

What In-ho is thinking right here, in my view, is; "See? There is no hope. There is nothing you can do. Stop torturing yourself, just give it up already. How much more pain do you have to go through before you give up? Accept you can do nothing and go on with your life. Try to be happy."

Now you might be asking, okay, but what does that have to do with romantic love?

Well let me tell you that these feelings I just described can easily and quickly turn into love.

Many philosophers over the centuries have come to the same conclusion; we see part of ourselves in the people we fall in love with.

"The Front Man believes that Gi-hun is wrong in his way of thinking, but perhaps, he reflects on himself through Gi-hun. He does want to destroy Gi-hun's belief. I felt that a small part of him, unknowingly, might be hoping for Gi-hun's thoughts to be right. And rooting for him in some way."

These words Lee Byung Hun said about In-ho, makes me think of Jacques Lacan's theory in particular (which is a rather complex topic and I will try to summarize as shortly and as simply as I can).

For Lacan, love, at least in the beginning, is essentially a form of narcissism. When we fall in love, we're also falling in love with ourselves. We see ourselves in the other person, but we also see in the other what we subconsciously think we are lacking in ourselves. Which doesn't mean the other person will fix us because, at least according to Lacan, this lack is something that can never actually be "fixed".

And I think that's exactly was is happening with In-ho. He sees in Gi-hun what he's lacking in himself. They were traumatized the same way, but reacted in two completely different manners. In-ho became cruel and disillusioned with humanity, while Gi-hun still believes in humanity and wants to save everyone.

I know that this way, 457 seems like a one-sided kind of love, but that's honestly my personal interpretation of the ship. I think Gi-hun could have fallen for Young-il, for the person In-ho was before the games, if they had more time. But the Frontman In-ho? The person he became after becoming the Frontman? There's no way.

Not all loves are meant to happen, not all lovers get to be lovers. Some are meant to just leave us wondering what could have been. Which is what makes transformative works so fun and interesting! From the canonverse toxic fics to the wholesome alternative universe flower shop fics, I think their dynamic is valid as fuck.

I rest my case.

[hearts4johnwick]

SUMMARY. 𝜗𝜚 your husband has been missing for almost two months now, yearning for him is making you relive some of your best memories.

CW. 𝜗𝜚 mentions of od’ing, fluff & angst (whose page are you in??? ofc it’s angst 👅) bold = flashbacks

A/N. 𝜗𝜚 umm i know absolutely nothing!!!about south korea or their schools, so this is purely based off of american schools bc my latina ass is not cultured on this, if yall wanna correct me or help me in some stuff, pls do! just know i’m writing this for fun tho <3

the voice of your teacher announcing a new student catches your attention, a boy with slightly longer hair stands beside her, holding onto his backpack. “this is kang dae-ho, he is transferring from seoul, and as your new classmate, you shall treat him with respect.” your eyes analyze dae-ho, he’s cute, you think. you glance over to your friend and she raises her eyebrow in a flirty manner, you smile.

“find a seat, dear.” there were plenty of seats available, but the seat beside you was the one he was eyeing the most, and you did not mind at all if he sat next to you.

the two of you make eye contact and you watch his eyebrows raise slightly, he quickly makes his way to the seat beside you. you give him a soft smile and he returns it, a soft hint of redness grows on his face.

“of course.” your friend playfully rolls her eyes and you chuckle before the teacher begins the class.

once the class finished, you head to your lockers to put away your books, in the distance you see dae-ho and your friend speaks. “you should go and talk to him, maybe we can go to the bakery after school.” you look at her and nod.

“that’s a good idea.” you walk away from your locker, your hand holding your other over your legs as you make your way toward him. dae-ho turns and his heart begins to race as if your beauty leaves him speechless, or you coming up to him caught him off guard. “dae-ho, was it?” he nods. “nice to meet you, I’m y/n.”

he smiles widely. “cute name for a cute girl.” you smile, his confidence taking you aback for a slight moment.

“thank you.” you feel your face heat up, but you brush it off. “my friend and i were wondering if you’d like to join us at the bakery right across the street after school? we usually go there for some lunch, since the lunch here is not too good.” you make a disgusted noise and scrunch your nose, he laughs and you smile.

“I’d like that,” he says and you smile.

“great. see you there. what’s your next class?” you ask him, and he tells you that it’s math, you exclaim when you look at his schedule and realize you have every single class together.

after classes finish, the three of you do as you agreed and head to the bakery. you get to know a lot about dae-ho, and you find out you have much more in common than you ever thought. he’s energetic and kind, and you admire that.

“so, do you have any plans after graduation?” you ask him, breaking the silence your friend left you both in after her mother came to pick her up.

he hums, taking his time thinking what to say. “joining the marines is a good idea.” you raise an eyebrow. “but, apart from that—i’d love to marry a pretty girl, maybe start a family with her, maybe move back to the city, or move to costa rica, i’ve seen pictures and i think it’s the most beautiful place i’ve ever seen.” you can’t help but smile at his plans, they’re quite nice. “and you?” he asks you your question.

“i want to become a veterinarian. i love animals so much, i’ve rescued some! dogs and cats!”

“what do you do after? do you keep them?” he questions.

“oh no no! i’m allergic to cats, i just send them to a shelter or put them up for adoption. when animals stay in shelters too long they sometimes kill them, and i hate that. i wish i could keep every animal i rescue, but ive only kept two dogs, two german shepherds.”

dae-ho laughs. “remind me not to mess with you, then.” you laugh at his joke.

“yeah, don’t.” you suck on your bottom lip and look at him. “but, apart from becoming a veterinarian, I’d also like to marry a handsome guy, and maybe start a family, although, I’m alright with dogs—how many kids do you want?”

“i want 4.” your breath hitches, and you grimace, you’re acting as if you’re gonna be the mother, but, you couldn’t help it.

“your poor wife.” you place your lips into a thin line. you two share a short laugh and continue to get to know each other.

you and dae-ho grew fond of each other in only 3 months, he was even walking you to your house, no matter the fact that his house was nearly 20 minutes from yours.

one night, you and dae-ho stand in your front steps, before you say goodbye, he grabs your hand and caresses it softly. “y/n.” he begins, he has all of your attention. “why don’t we… take a break from the bakery and go to an actual restaurant…maybe tomorrow?” he pauses between his words, thinking thoroughly about what he’s saying. when he sees your expression soften, he knows it’s going great.

“i’d love to.” you smile widely and place a hand on his cheek gently. the two of you share a sweet moment, he said he’ll text you the details, and you dismiss him with a kiss on the cheek and the blood rushing to his cheek makes your heart flutter.

one date led to another, and then another, after that, another one, until it became a weekly thing. when the two of you graduated, he quickly went off to the marines, and you were proud of him for that, he could do what he wished for, but you were terrified at the same time, terrified that one day he might not come home, and the thought of that destroyed you.

him coming back home permanently meant everything to you, you thought that maybe you could start a family now, you were at a fine age, you were married and financially stable, your job was paying you very well, and so was, dae-ho’s, but now that he’s back—forever now, that might change—and, it did.

you turn sideways on your bed, your hand brushes the cold spot next to you, it’s empty, you don’t like that feeling at all, it makes you feel empty. you remember the moments when dae-ho kept you warm, the times after intimate moments when you would just lay in his chest, staring into his eyes, or simply when you would fall asleep in each other’s arms.

you check the time, and it’s 2:34 am, you sigh and stare at your ceiling, and you start to feel tears pooling in your eyes. you stand from your bed and head over to the closet. there, you take one of dae-ho’s jackets and hug it, as if he was wearing it as if you were hugging him. his scent made your heart ache, this was the closest you’d been to him in almost two months.

you sob your heart out as you slide down the wall, softly murmuring his name like a prayer, hoping he’ll hear you.

your finger softly curls dae-ho’s hair, and the two of you admire each other in the spotlight, his hand on your hip and yours on his shoulder, sharing the prom king and queen dance.

“prom king, huh?” you raise an eyebrow.

“no thanks to you, prom queen.” he chuckles and you roll your eyes.

“what’s a king without his queen?” dae-ho raises his eyebrows and nods. “this is so embarrassing, i hope they’re not looking—or looking at you.” you chuckle.

“no, trust me. they’re looking at you.” your eyes light up, and your face gets hot, but you don’t know if it’s because of embarrassment or his compliment. “you look unbelievable tonight, y/n. i can’t imagine you on our wedding day.” he says, your mouth opens and your heart flutters, god, you cannot wait to marry him, he’s all you’ve ever wished for, you don’t care that he’s your first love, you think he’s the love of your life—you know he is, and that’s what matters, not what people think.

“i love you.” your confession catches him off guard, he’s said it before, but you never said it back, only ‘me too’ but the words ‘I love you’ have never come out of your mouth, and even though you’ve been wanting to say it ever since the moment you laid eyes on him, something has been stopping you, but you knew it was about time.

“i love you more,” he says back, and you smile widely. you embrace each other, but continue your dance until it concludes.

shortly after graduation, the two of you decided that after dae-ho serves his time in the marines, you’d get married—and so you did. your wedding was beautiful, it was intimate, with only two or three family members from dae-ho’s side, for obvious reasons, and almost your whole family tree.

your family loved dae-ho as if he was their own, and that made you feel very grateful, dae-ho had a rough childhood, and seeing him get the love he never had growing up was better than anything you could ever ask for.

the day of your marriage was truly the happiest day you’ve ever been, and let’s not even talk about the night. from then on, you appreciated every single moment with dae-ho, you always have, but you’re treasuring them even more now. the two of you began to travel, you started with costa rica, of course, and so on—you went to some places such as japan, tennessee, bali, dominican republic, and all of europe, you’d hope that between this year and next, you can finish traveling the caribbean because dae-ho loves the caribbean and the beaches.

you had planned for the bahamas on your next trip, but this is around the time when your husband was struggling, and when he turned up missing.

dae-ho has been missing for almost two months, he just vanished into thin air, he didn’t leave you a note, or a text message, he just… left. and you missed him dearly, you thought these months as an eternity, and you couldn’t take it anymore.

the orange bottle of full pills was tempting you—you wanted to end this pain, you wanted to end it now. he could end it, if he would just show up on the doorstep, just him, you don’t even want flowers or a gift, you just need him, or the other reason to end it is to just not keep living.

why would you need to keep living? the reason you are hasn’t been here with you these days—you have no reason to keep living, so why not just finish it?

your brother found you, he took you in his arms, sobbing and calling out your name. the bright hospital light was bothering you, your vision was blurry and your heartbeat was steady, slower than usual, but it was still beating, and that was the important thing.

the cold, dry air of the hospital made you feel sicker as if you were actually dead. you had your eyes closed when you felt a familiar, warm touch in your hand. you try your best to open your eyes, but your vision is still blurry.

“dae-ho?” you croak, a drop of wetness rolling down your cheek in pain. you hear no answer, so you don’t know if you’re hallucinating, or dreaming, but you cry.

you had thought that maybe—maybe he’d been back, oh, god you wish he’d been back, just so that you could spend the time you have left with him—but one thing is for sure, and it’s that you’ll soon be seeing him, whether that would be in the flesh, or the after life, is still to be decided.

❛ i wish i could live without you

but you’re a part of me. ❜

[sassenach77yle]

Outlander 7x16 "A Hundred Thousand Angels"

I COULDN’T GO to sleep. I’d given Fanny her tea, provided her with suitable cloths—not at all to my surprise, she already knew how to use them—and talked gently to her, careful not to raise any more of her personal ghosts. When Fanny had come to us, Jamie and I had agreed that we wouldn’t try to question her about any of the bits of memory she dropped aloud—like the bad men on the ship and what had happened to Spotty the dog—unless she seemed to want to talk about them. I thought she would, sooner or later. Bree and Roger had agreed as well, though I could see how curious Brianna was. Fanny had mentioned Jane now and then, offhandedly, but in a way designed—I thought—to keep a sense of her sister alive. Seeing her distress tonight, though … Jane was much closer to her than I’d thought. And now that I’d seen Jane’s face … I couldn’t forget it. Knowing only what I did know about the girls’ lives in the brothel in Philadelphia was upsetting; I really hadn’t wanted to find out how they’d come there. I still didn’t … but I couldn’t keep the worm of speculation at bay; it had burrowed into my brain and was squirming busily through my thoughts, killing sleep. Bad men on a ship. A dog thrown into the sea. A pet dog? A family—if Fanny and Jane had been with their parents on a ship that encountered pirates … or even a wicked captain, like Stephen Bonnet

… I felt the hairs rise on my forearms at thought of him, but with remembered anger, not fear. Someone like him could easily have taken a look at the two lovely young girls and decided that their parents could be dispensed with. Faith. Our mother, Fanny had said. I’d looked more than once at the miniature in the locket—but it was too small to show anything more than a young woman with dark hair, maybe naturally curly, maybe curled and dressed in the fashion of the times. No. It can’t be. I rolled over for the dozenth time, settling on my stomach and burying my face in the pillow, in hopes of losing myself in the scent of clean linen and goose down. “It can’t be what, Sassenach?” Jamie’s voice spoke in my ear, sleepily resigned. “And if it can’t, can it not wait ’til dawn?” I rolled onto my side in a rustle of bedding, facing him. “I’m sorry,” I said, and touched him apologetically. His hand took mine automatically, warm and firm.

“I didn’t realize I’d said it out loud. I was … just thinking about Fanny’s locket.” Faith. “Ach,” he said, and stretched himself a little, groaning. “Ye mean the name. Faith?” “Well … yes. I mean—it can’t possibly … have anything to do with …” “It’s no an uncommon name, Sassenach.”

His thumb rubbed gently over my knuckles. “Of course ye’d … feel it. I did, too.” “Did you?” I said softly. I cleared my throat a little. “I—I don’t really do it anymore, but for a time, just—just every now and then—I’d think of her, of our Faith—out of nowhere. I’d imagine I could feel her near me.” “Imagine what she might look like—grown?” His voice was soft, too. “I did that, sometimes. In prison, mostly; too much time to think, in the nights. Alone.” I made a small sound and hitched closer, laying my head in the curve of his shoulder, and his arm came round me. We lay still, silent, listening to the night and the house around us. Full of our family—but with one small angel hovering in the calm sweet air, peaceful as rising smoke. “The locket,” I said at last. “It can’t possibly have anything whatever to do with—” “No, it can’t,” he said, a cautious note in his voice. “But what are ye thinking, Sassenach? Because ye’re no thinking what ye just said, and I ken that fine.” That was true, and a spasm of guilt at being found out tightened my body. “It can’t be,” I said, and swallowed. “It’s only …” My words died away and his hand rubbed between my shoulder blades.

“Well, ye’d best tell me, Sassenach,” he said. “Nay matter how foolish it is, neither one of us will sleep until ye do.” “Well … you know what Roger told me, about the doctor he met in the Highlands, and the blue light?” “I do. What—” “Roger asked me if I’d ever seen blue light like that—when I was healing people.” The hand on my back stilled. “Have ye?” He sounded guarded, though I didn’t know whether he was afraid of finding out something he didn’t want to know, or just finding out that I was losing my mind. “No,” I said. “Or not—well, no. But … I have seen it. Felt it. Twice. Just a flash, when Malva’s baby died.” Died in my hands, covered with his mother’s blood. “But when Faith was born, when I was so ill. I was dying—really dying, I felt it—and Master Raymond came.” “Ye told me that much,” he said. “Is there more?” “I don’t know,” I said honestly. “But this is what I thought happened.” And I told him, about seeing my bones glow blue through the flesh of my arms, the feeling of the light spreading through my body and the infection dying, leaving me limp, but whole and healing. “So … um … I know this is nothing but pure fantasy, the sort of thing you think in the middle of the night when you can’t sleep …” He made a low noise, indicating that I should stop apologizing and get on with it. So I took a deep breath and did, whispering the words into his chest. “Master Raymond was there. What if—if he found … Faith … and was able to … somehow bring her … back?” Dead silence. I swallowed and went on. “People … aren’t always dead, even though it looks like it. Look at old Mrs. Wilson! Every doctor knows—or has heard—about people who’ve been declared dead and wake up later in the morgue.” “Or in a coffin.” He sounded grim, and a shudder went over me. “Aye, I’ve heard stories like that. But—a wee babe and one born too soon—how—” “I don’t know how!” I burst out. “I said it’s complete fantasy, it can’t be true! But—but—” My throat thickened and my voice squeaked. “But ye wish it were?” His hand cupped the back of my head and his voice was quiet again. “Aye. But … if it was, mo chridhe, why would he not have told ye? Ye saw him again, no? After he’d healed ye, I mean.” “Yes.” I shuddered, momentarily feeling the King of France’s Star Chamber close around me, the smell of the King’s perfume, of dragon’s blood and wine in the air—and two men before me, awaiting my sentence of death.

“Yes, I know. But—when the Comte died, Raymond was banished, and they took him away. He couldn’t have told me then, and he might not have been able to come back before we left Paris.” It sounded insane, even to me. But I could—just—see it: Master Raymond, stealing out of L’Hôpital des Anges after leaving me, perhaps ducking aside to avoid notice, hiding in the place where the nuns had, perhaps, laid Faith on a shelf, wrapped in her swaddling clothes. He would have known her, as he’d known me … Everyone has a color about them, he said simply. All around them, like a cloud. Yours is blue, madonna. Like the Virgin’s cloak. Like my own. One of his. The thought came out of nowhere, and I stiffened. “Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ.” What if—all right, I was insane, but too late for that to make a difference. “What if he—if I, we—what if Master Raymond is—was—somehow related to me?” Jamie said nothing, but I felt his hand move, under my hair. His middle finger folded down and the outer ones stood up straight, making the sign of the horns, against evil. “And what if he’s not?” he said dryly. He rolled me off him and turned toward me so we were face-to-face. The darkness was slowly fading and I could see his face, drawn with tiredness, touched with sorrow and tenderness, but still determined. “Even if everything ye’ve made yourself think was somehow true—and it’s not, Sassenach; ye ken it’s not—but if it were somehow true, it wouldna make any difference. The woman in Frances’s locket is dead now, and so is our Faith.” His words touched the raw place in my heart, and I nodded, tears welling. “I know,” I whispered. “I know, too,” he whispered, and held me while I wept.

24 Alarms by Night~GO TELL THE BEES THAT I AM GONE

[aboutcustardcreams]

For love, we gladly pay the price

Summary: As Lady Death struggles with an impossible choice (flashback), you and Agatha find yourselves entangled in a very awkward/ uncomfortable situation. The question here is: what does the Road really want from you?

previous chapter

You made your decision– one each mother, in your place, would make. Your son is going to regain consciousness any moment now. And you made it possible. With your incredible power and stubbornness, you gave the boy another chance in life, a proper one. But at what cost?

“Please–” Rio never begged, yet there she was. You’d barely recognize her voice if you listened to it. “I could not persuade her to let him go, if anything– I encouraged her to save him from the start,” she confessed in a pained murmur. 

In the dimly lit hall stood the three sisters, their expressions stoic, yet contemplative giving the illusion that they could still be convinced into changing their mind. They had summoned Lady Death and that alone couldn’t mean anything good. 

Atropos, the eldest, stepped forward. “We can’t ignore what she has done,” her voice echoed like a thunder, taking up the entire space. Rio flinched, but didn’t back away. “Her defiance comes with a price. I’m sure your job has taught you that much, hasn’t it?” 

The Green witch’s jaw tightened, her teeth grinding at the words. Of course, she knew. She had known the moment the Fates discovered her secret; how she had hidden Nicky away, shielding him from the River of Souls he was meant to cross at birth. The punishment had been swift and merciless. She had endured it all in silence. Not a word of it ever passed her lips, neither to you nor to Agatha. Because nothing could have been done to change that anyway so why bother you and Agatha too?

Despite everything, her lips curled into a bitter, defiant smile. “she fulfilled the purpose she was born for. Necromancy is her gift. You can’t condemn her for who she is.”

Atropos’s eyebrows shot up as her head lightly lolled to the side. She let out a sound between a scoff and a chuckle at Rio’s tenancy. For being a Celestial being she surely looked quite small now. The other two shared a glance, their eyes lingered as to decide which of them would speak second, in support of their eldest. 

Lachesis, the middleborn, took a soft sigh as she approached. Her long golden skirt swept over the floor, leaving a trail of sparkle in its wake. “I understand your concerns for her– my sisters do, too. In spite of what you might think, we’re not heartless.”

Rio didn’t let her guard down, nor did she allow those ‘apparent’ hopeful words to get to her head, before learning more. “If that’s true, then spare her life.” 

The eldest let out a quiet chuckle. Three heads snapped towards her. “Oh, you’ve definitely gotten sentimental, Lady Death.” 

The witch’s heart started pounding in her chest at great speed, her throat clenched almost painfully as she tumbled out, “it’s my wife’s life we are talking about. I’m allowed to be worried about her.” 

Her mind spiraled, imagining the ruin your death would bring and not just to her, but to Agatha and Nicky. Eternity was a long, unrelenting road to walk with a heart that was very likely to shatter into pieces and bleed forever. Agatha, she knew, would never forgive her. And Nicky, her sweet, pure-hearted Nicky would grow up with that same resentment festering inside him. He’d nurture it, shape it into something raw, something dangerous, especially now that he shared the same magic as yours. 

“This is my domain,” she said, hands turning into fists. “It’s mine alone to determine when a life ends. You cannot interfere with that–” 

“I believe there’s a little bit of confusion here,” Atropos argued. Her eyes flicked to Clotho, who had swiftly moved to sit in front of the chassis, her delicate fingers spinning the shimmering thread within with practiced grace. The motion was almost hypnotic. Rio’s face fell, her frown deepened. Could that be your life Clotho was holding? 

“We do not mean to take your wife’s life before its time,” the youngest admitted. Her voice didn’t match the depths of her power, the way her fingers could create as much as destroy. 

“Contrary to your lover, my sisters and I know where we stand. We would never interfere with something that doesn’t concern us, so I must confess you, it’s not death we wish for the necromancer, but life–” 

Rio blinked in disbelief. “I don’t understand–”

“A tormented life,” Atropos corrected, with a grin. “Something you experienced in a way, but not quite.” 

“I’m sure you’re familiar with our distant cousins, Lady Death,” Lachesis added solemnly. 

Rio’s mouth parted in slight shock, a bitter sound slipped for her lips, “and you said you are not heartless?”

“I take that as a yes,” Atropos replied. Clotho kept her eyes focused on the thread, Rio couldn’t be sure, but she spotted a glimpse of hesitation in her posture. She was touching that thread ever so gently as if she was lulling a baby to sleep. Maybe she didn’t agree with her sisters’ decision, but being the youngest of the three, forced her to submit to their will and play along with it. 

“Clotho, please—” Rio’s shoulders sagged. “It’s not right. You must know that– you–”

“Do not try to manipulate our sister!” The eldest’s voice came out so loud and sharp, Rio flinched and had to cover her ears. 

The youngest swallowed lightly, as she averted her gaze, “I’m truly sorry, Lady Death. If it’s any consolation, the torment will not last forever,” she glanced at her sisters. 

Atropos nodded with a wave of her hand, “sure thing, sister. What were you thinking? Fifty years?” 

Rio’s heart picked up, “that’s insane!” She cried out. Her magic crackled dangerously around her. “She would never survive that and you know it!” 

“A fair compromise for her not to lose her mind and die would be between two and five years,” she admitted carefully. “As we already mentioned, we don’t want to kill her, right Atropos?” 

She grimaced, clearly displeased with the proposition. 

“I suggest two years,” Clotho tried. 

“You’re too soft, sister,” Atropos scolded her. 

“Please–” Rio’s knees dropped at this point. A part of her knew you could make it, however that was not enough reason for them to put you through that. Their cousins were no joke– she had known mortals who had wished to die in less than a month. And out of mercy, she had taken them to the other side. 

“I will accept the three years, and considering you were so adamant into being punished in her place, I want you, Lady Death, to curse her.” 

She looked terrified at the idea. Horrified even. “I-I can’t… I don’t want to…”  

“Oh but you will–” Atropos’ lips curved in a sinister grin. “Or shall we ensure she suffers far worse than what we’ve promised?”

Rio swallowed hard against the lump in her throat.

She had known it would come to this. She had tried to warn you— both you and Agatha, but deep down, Lady Death couldn’t entirely blame you for ignoring her. Bringing Nicky back wasn’t a crime in your eyes, nor it broke the natural balance of all things. It was an act of love. The love of a mother. 

But the Fates didn’t see it that way.

This wasn’t about your actions, not really. 

No, their wrath wasn’t fueled by what you had done but by who you were and who you challenged without a second thought. You had challenged their authority and proved yourself more powerful than they dared admit, and they hated you for it. Well, Atropos sure did. 

Clotho gave Lady Death an apologetic glance, “behave wisely.” She didn’t speak, yet Rio heard her in her mind. 

“So, do we have a deal?” Lachesis asked, picking at her fingernails. 

Lady Death’s chest tightened as she stood. Those words would have haunted her for the rest of her existence, of that she was sure. “We do.”

-

Present time

“Feels like we just came out of Mount Olympus!” Teen muttered in awe, staring down at his robe-like ensemble: a rich blue tunic adorned with intricate golden embroidery around the neckline hem and sleeves. Underneath the tunic, he wore white, loose-fitting pants, cinched at the waist with a sturdy leather belt that held a small pouch and decorative golden chains. 

“Check me out–” Agatha purred, as she admired her reflection in one of the tall mirrors placed against the ivory walls. 

She wore an elegant chiton, a deep shade of purple that hugged her figure with effortless grace. Its fabric draped like liquid silk, hugging her waist and hips before cascading softly around her thighs. The asymmetrical shape of the chiton left one shoulder bare, which caused your mouth to go dry as soon as your gaze drifted there.

“Oh, I am.” You drew closer, a subtle grin on your face, as your arms draped around her waist, and your head peeped out her bare shoulder. 

You’re hidden behind her body– almost purposefully. You didn’t want to distract her with what you were wearing, not just yet. “If you’re not a celestial being, then I don’t know who is,” you purred, your lips a few millimeters from her ear elicited goosebumps to her skin. 

She watched your face, through the mirror and her cheeks darkened a bit. You’d recognize that look anywhere. She wanted to see you, needed to, so she spun around and as soon as she did, her mouth parted in awe. 

Your dress, though beautiful, had barely crossed your mind until now. But the way she was looking at you made you suddenly aware of every part of it. 

“Woah, I’m– you are…” 

You did a little twirl for her.  

“Not bad, huh?” you teased, a soft chuckle slipping from your lips. 

The top of your outfit fitted as if it had been sewn just for you: it was a white bodice with a V neckline, adorned with a thick belt of black and silver filigree. The balloon skirt, layered with a silvery overlay evoked the jew/elry in your hair and swirled like shadows over the black underskirt that peeked through with each movement you made. 

When her hand found the side of your cheek, you leaned in, eager for more contact, more of her warmth and she obliged, thumb tracing sweet patterns over your skin. 

“How can you be so beautiful?” She breathed out like in a daze. 

You pursed your lips at her compliment, then tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “I could ask you the same thing-”

She pulled you even closer, taking a firm grip onto your waist. “You know, I think more and more that the Road appeared to test me, and only me.” 

A flicker of amusement flashed through your eyes. “We both know this trail is for me.” 

Her face dimmed at your words. The grip around your waist loosened a bit and you frowned. “Don’t do that,” you lifted her chin ever so gently, when she dropped her gaze onto the floor. “I’m fine. We’re both fine.” 

She tried to smile at your optimism, but her worries for you were eating her from the inside. “And let’s be real,” With your arms around her neck, you tried another tactic and pulled her in for a gentle kiss. “We make quite the hell of a team, don’t we?”

Her smile stretched into something far more genuine, making your heart swell with love at the sight. “The very best–” 

“Oh– There is wine after all,” Jen observed out loud, causing you all to turn towards her. There was a lovely cruet, sat invitingly on a low dining table. “And fresh fruits.” 

“Don’t touch it,” Lilia warned. “Could be poisoned.”

“Wasn’t going to–” she retorted, with an eye roll. “I’m not as desperate as someone else here…”

Your eyes narrowed at that jibe. 

Agatha shot an eyebrow at her and clicked her lips. “Careful there, Kale. Your obsession with me might be misunderstood as a crush.”

The witch made a ick sound, “Sorry to disappoint, but you’re hardly my type.”

“Course, I’m not,” she chuckled, with a wave of her hand. “That’s all the ladies say.” 

The others shared a quiet laugh, whereas Jen spun around and growled, trotting away from Agatha. 

You sighed and tiredly pinched at the bridge of your nose, before your eyes landed on Agatha’s again and you mouthed, “what was that?” 

She shrugged innocently, a playful grin tugged at her lips. 

“There’s something else here!” Alice called out after a minute. On an armchair lingered a piece of scroll, folded gracefully with a thin, red tape. 

You all circled the protection witch in a rush, eager to  figure out whatever was written on the paper she held. As she carefully unfolded it, the tension was palpable. Without realizing it, you leaned closer to Alice, your shoulder brushing against hers. You two shared a nervous glance before she started to read. 

She dared to grasp what none could hold. Each path and twist respond to our will. We wove the threads, but she cut the rope and stitched it back with cursed skill. The lies they spun must now unwind. The debt is due; your fate aligned. 

“What does it mean?” Teen asked, looking at each and everyone of you for clarity.  

“Well, I don’t know the details but you kind of challenged the Maiori, didn’t you?” Alice trailed, her voice soft, not accusing at all. 

It brought a tight smile on your face. At least she was trying to have some tact and tolerance. “I did, yeah. Or they challenged me. Depends how you look at it.”

Agatha’s brows met in a frown, as she surged forward to grab that piece of paper from Alice to take a second look at it. Was it a warning? A threat? What did it mean for you? Were you in danger?

Lilia and Jen shared a look, before the elder one spoke, “the cursed skill would be your power, commonly known as your silver,” she continued, giving a wave of her hand to help her reasoning. 

Your lips flattened. Correct, again. 

“It’s not cursed,” Agatha grumbled, flashing her a smarted glance. “It’s her. As simple as that. Her essence is necromancy and it’s about time witches– you all stopped harrowing her for it.”

“Lilia is just trying to help, Agatha–” Teen commented. 

“Exactly. I was merely paraphrasing,” the divination witch pointed out. 

“Of course,” Agatha mumbled, still looking irritated. 

You sighed, your fingers started to play with the tips of her hair. “It’s okay, really,” you added, calm as ever. “Plus it’s not that she wrote it. It’s just part of a puzzle…”

“I hate puzzles,” to Agatha’s remark, you couldn’t help but let out a quiet chuckle.  

“If I may interject–” Teen stepped in, snatching the scroll from Agatha’s hands, not without earning a glare from her. “I don’t think this is only your trial. I mean the message addresses a ‘she’ at first, that could be you, but then, it mentions a ‘they’ and a ‘you’ so it probably refers to more than one person,” he looks up at Agatha, eyebrows furrowing in thought. “Could it be you?”

She hesitated, “I’m not sure.”

“The lies they spun must now unwind–” Alice repeated the line, trying to make sense of it. 

You averted your gaze, eyes dropping on the floor for a moment. 

Jen’s head lolled to the side, suspicious. “Does it mean that… you lied to someone?”  

You gaped, then stuttered out, “N-no, what? It doesn’t make any sense,” a forced, nervous smile tugged at your lips. But it didn’t last. “It’s not clear… it’s–” you sighed, a tad exasperated. “We need more hints. This isn’t going anywhere.”

Agatha watched you closely, catching and worrying about your sudden discomfort. It was her turn to reach out to you. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Jen stepped in before you could formulate a response. “Maybe it wants you to tell the truth about what happened during the Salem days?”

“Yeah,” Lilia agreed, with a nod. “Since we were told the wrong version of your story,” she added, although both you and Agatha could grasp the hesitation as she stressed on the word ‘wrong’. 

“Sweet.” The succubi witch let out a short, dark chuckle as she shook her head. “And if we didn’t want to share our story? Then, what?” She dared to ask, in a mocking tone. 

Alice sighed and folded her arms over her chest. “There could be consequences.” The sudden seriousness in her tone made Agatha recoil. 

“What kind of consequences?” Your voice came out barely above a whisper. 

“I don’t know. Maybe your girlfriend should fill us in,” Jen shot back, rather boldly. All eyes turned to Jen, your collective frown deepening. “I mean, she’s been here before, hasn’t she? Or was that just another lie?”

“As I’ve already explained,” Agatha replied, her voice clipped with irritation, her eyes refusing to look at her for obvious reasons, “the road is never the same. It shifts and changes depending on the witches who walk it.”

“Oh, great. So basically, you’re useless,” Jen deadpanned, her tone dripping with exasperation.

“I don’t see how you’re making yourself useful here, Kale,” she hissed back. Hadn’t Agatha been powerless, she would have blasted that witch against the nearest wall, or mirror. Depending on how badly she wanted her hurt. 

“Guys, stop–” you stepped in, the faint beginnings of a headache pulsed at your temples. You pressed your fingertips to them, rubbing in slow circles as you fought to stay calm. “Can we not tear into each other right now? I thought I made it clear– we are supposed to be working together.”

“It’s a hard task with a witch killer giving you eyes,” she mumbled, though everyone could catch the bitterness behind her tone. 

“It’s a pity your vocabulary is as rusty as your magic,” Agatha quipped mockingly. 

Jen growled. 

“Not helping–” you gave her a pointed look. 

She lifted both her hands in surrender, “alright, fine. I’ll be good.” 

You blew a raspberry. She could fool them, but not you. 

“Umm, as you were when you killed your coven?” Jen inquired. 

Agatha stilled, her jaw tightened and this time she said nothing for herself.  The witch in pink had been dancing on thin ice for far too long, pushing and prodding without care. But this—this was the last straw. Resenting Agatha’s behavior in the present was one thing, but dragging up her past and passing judgment without knowing a damn thing about her reasons? It pissed you off. 

So you snapped. “Oh for fuck’s sake!” 

The room froze, Jen flinched, Agatha… well, she appeared pleased for a second, considering you successfully gave poor Jen a fright and were able to shut her mouthy mouth.

"You are, without a doubt, the most infuriating, insufferable witch I've ever had the misfortune of meeting. And yet, somehow, I’m not spending every single second we’re stuck here reminding you just how deeply you irritate me. Nor, might I add, am I blasting you through these walls like you so thoroughly deserve—” Your hands trembled, and before you could stop it, magic surged through your palms, a darkish hue of gray loomed over your outstretched fingertips, desperate to be lashed out, but you managed to contain it… sort of. 

Teen flashed Agatha a worried look, silently prompting her to do something. She groaned and muttered something like ‘spoilsport’ before walking up to you. That’s when she noticed your eyes turn silver. 

“Love, come on now, look at me–” her voice sounded so soft to your ears, your eyes darted towards her, but only for a mere second before turning back to Jen. 

With a sigh, Agatha stepped in front of you taking up all your front vision, and when she did, her hands opted to cup your cheeks instead of holding your hands. It was not because she believed you’d hurt her. Quite the opposite. Why? Because she was a succubus. It was in her nature to steal magic. And yours was very available and very tempting at the moment. 

“Hush, please-” she bored into those beautiful silver orbs of yours and you into her blue ones. You caught her lips curling upwards, then. “You’re sexy when you’re mad, I’ll give you that,” as she predicted, your anger dissipated, and turned into slight amusement at her evident joke. She always knew how to make you laugh, even in a situation like that. 

“Atta girl–” When magic vanished from your palms, she took a sigh of relief she didn’t know she was holding, and then pulled you in a hug. 

Once you pulled away, you looked at the others, at Teen in particular who had his lips pursed in a grimace. Had you gone too far? Had you scared him? “I’m sorry, I…” you stuttered, embarrassed. 

Teen gave you a shy smile as to tell you that no harm was done. Same did Alice and Lilia. 

Jen remained quiet. 

“You should apologize to both,” Teen told her. 

The potion witch gave him a quizzical look, “w-what?”

“I second that,” Alice quipped, with a nod of her head. 

“I hate to admit it, but you poked the bear,” Lilia continued. “Well, bears.” 

Both you and Agatha shared a look. You chuckled at Lilia’s choice of words, also pleased with the fact that finally someone was taking your side. At last. 

“Fine, ugh– whatever,” the potion witch rolled her eyes and waved her hands in mid air. “I’m sorry, alright? I went too far.”

Agatha hummed, torn. “Say that like you mean it, toots–” 

“Don’t push it-” that’s all she said, before walking away from her, and from you. 

“We will take that,” you conceded calmly. 

You knew you’d have a hard time gaining Jen’s trust, so for now you accepted her not-so-felt apology and moved on. 

Lilia’s eyes landed on something she was sure wasn’t there before, or if it was, had sat still till now, unmoving. It was an hourglass, whose wedged white sand had just started to trickle slowly. She nervously cleared her throat, then. “You know, I’d really hate it if demons, snakes or whatever ambushed us, so… whenever you’re ready…” 

“Shit… alright. Okay!”

You slumped back against one of the couches arranged in a circle around the table laden with wine and fresh fruit. “I will take a glass after all,” you muttered, with a quiet, humourless chuckle. “Maybe two.”

Agatha sat down next to you, at your right, Teen at your left, followed by Alice and Jen. Lilia took a seat across from you instead. 

Your lover gave the wine a skeptical look, as she tumbled out, “I hope this isn’t the cheap stuff,” the glass in her hand filled to the brim on its own. So did yours. 

“As long as it’s not poisonous…” you retorted, taking a long, large sip.

[ravenwind-75]

The boy who became Indigo

Word count: about 1468 idk

Characters: Sebastian Sallow

Warnings: Angst

a/n: No beta (wrote late at night) and unedited. You can thank all the tiktok edits of Sebastian to this song lately. And @heylorrain who introduced me to this song.

tagging @butternutt613 who wanted to see this.

—————————————

There used to be a boy who shone so brightly. A boy full of curiosity and joy. Laughing and frolicking with his sister on summer days, his best friend with a beaming grin beside him. Days at school spent pulling elaborate pranks, studying together long into the night. All Sebastian wanted to do was live, to live as fully as he could. To learn, explore, to see the world in its fullest. Sebastian had dark days, but that was before magic came into his life. He was too young to help his parents, too young to learn something that could have saved them. His uncle was old. He only knew the old ways. Sebastian was sure that there was something that he missed. His parents had always told him that books held the answers. And his uncle didn’t read.

When magic came into his life the world opened up so much more to him. He could create things at the flick of his fingertips. He could do the impossible. There were endless possibilities and he wanted to do them all. He loved the thrill that came with dueling, with controlling an element as powerful as fire with a thrilling whoosh of a simple piece of wood infused with magic. Magic that came from inside of him. His mother had called him her golden boy. And the magic he felt inside him, the magic others saw, was just as warm. Ominis had told him that one time.

“You’re like the sun, Sebastian. You’re warm and gentle, but fiery and explosive at times. But it compliments you. It fits you. You just have this essence, that’s pure, positive, and dependable. Bright. And you’re valuable to me, my most prized, only friendship. You have a heart of gold.”

Sebastian had ruffled his hair, and laughed it off, not knowing what to do with the praise. “You’re one to talk Mr. Golden hair himself. You’re more perfect than me. My uncle seems to think so.”

“You’re blinding, that's why. If I was any metal I’d be silver. Cold, pure, and reflective. Of you.”

~~

The first scratch, the first flaw to cut into that heart of gold was a large one. A long big chunk out of the middle. The piece that belonged to his sister. When she was cursed so was he, each scream scraping along that heart of gold and chipping away. But even flawed gold can shine. It can shine in a flashing grin when it sees something brighter than itself. Something that sparkles with brilliance. The girl who knocked him down.

Sebastian was always there for her. First to jump in to take her to Hogsmeade, fight beside her in crossed wands, carry her books between classes, and help her find a lost book.

Ominis noticed that Sebastian shone again for her.

The gold had been fading away as he pined for his sister, little impurities sneaking in and there, impacting his quality of life as he spent many nights poring over magic of all types, selling himself for answers, filling the holes with everything else.

As the sun shone brighter again, it cast rainbows through the diamond, which reflected on the silver. All was well...

Yes, they ignored how the laser-like curse cut through Sebastian with the guilt he felt. How when the relic made one fade it made the other who reflected fade too. And how when the diamond dimmed in the shadows, she never lost her clarity of it all. Of what he was becoming.

Oh, the golden-hearted boy- how he faded. He was barely gold anymore. He was imperfect and flawed. He lacked depth and was cold and detached. He was prone to fully breaking. He was a purple gold now, fragile, hard, and brittle. Subject to crack at sudden impact.

~~

Sebastian’s heart was fracturing, the cracks spreading wide enough to slowly change him. Growing larger every day. Sebastian had been cold for a while now- cold with the guilt, the absence of his sister's once radiant presence.

The boy who once lived fully, loved fiercely, shining like the sun now looked at the world through a dull reflective sheen like aluminum. A distorted image of himself and others. His magic, once pure and warm, felt as hollow as his dark eyes. The heart of gold was becoming something- it had become something less. Less brilliant, less luminous, a mere shadow of itself-himself.

When he was alone he felt it the most. That all that was left of him was a ghost, his former self gasping for air as it faded every day, away forever. Each piece fell away as he cracked. Mostly it was his uncle. The man who had never believed in him, never even his childhood dreams. The man who told him to give up on saving all he had left of his family. He never saw past the old traditions, he was convinced it was futile. “It’s impossible”! He always said.

Sebastian even when he was shining wasn’t good enough. Always inadequate. Every time he looked at him with disdain, dismissed him, and crushed his hopes in front of Sebastian’s eyes, the cracks got deeper. The pressure built. The weight of his failure, his guilt, the fear of losing Anne - became unbearable.

His diamond girl, her sharp true words cut through him the most, cutting deep into his melancholy purple-gold soul. Even pure gold can be cut by one. And he was even more fragile than that.

The breaking point came- the final snap.

When his uncle stood before him, lecturing him about dark magic and threatening his diamond girl. When he snatched all Sebastian had poured himself into out of his hand and destroyed his hopes once and for all. Taking the hope of being with Anne again away forever.

At last the cracks split through.

The words echoed in his mind, “You are not enough."

In a flash, in a flare of hot rage and despair, he uttered the words summoned from the darkest depths of his soul. A curse he had never dared use. One he didn’t even know would work but the hatred, the suppressed emotions all exploded from him in a violent surge of green crackling energy.

He watched with horror as his uncle fell to the cold floor, the light going from his eyes as he was wrapped in death’s embrace. Sebastian stood frozen and numb as his wand tumbled from his hand with a small echoing clatter.

~~

The next few hours passed in a blurry haze of numbing tears. Anne no longer wanted to see him. Ominis wanted to turn him in and she was bruised by her conflicted feelings. He knew it was his fault- that he had gone too far. He had murdered his family. He was fully and completely broken, irreversibly.

“The thing is I think I’ve lost my sister, my twin. Forever. She refuses to even see me. I can’t blame her. I couldn’t really blame any of you if you gave up on me entirely.”

Sebastian’s tears mixed with the girl he loved, the weight hanging over him still even as she pulled him closer. He realized he was no longer the boy she fell in love with, the boy anyone loved. He was no longer that golden boy with a heart that shone brighter than the sun. Sebastian was now broken and darkened, full of regret and guilt. His soul was now a mixture of something still faintly, tragically beautiful that only she could see. The red mixed with the blue of his sorrow, indigo. A beautiful melancholy color of quiet aching for healing.

He however only saw destruction. Not a single good thing left in him. There was no trace of the light from before. No sense of beauty.

He saw his hands stained with his own blood, the boy he had been. The boy who lived with hope and light. All that was left was a cold, broken reflection of someone who tried to fix something, not his to fix. Something already fractured beyond repair. The golden boy was gone, he’d also murdered himself.

~~

In the cold silence of Azkaban's cell, he hoped she would forgive him for turning himself in. That she would understand the one thing that he did, that everyone else did. His heart would never be gold again. He had shattered that part of himself forever. He’d completely lost himself.

Impure gold loses its value, its purity. And its color dims.

No one wants something that is less.

No one would want him.

Sebastian closed his eyes as they came for him. Knowing they would drain away every happy moment of his existence.

But it was okay.

He was dead anyway.

~~

“And I used to shine bright like gold,

Now I’m all indigo.

My colors are darker and cold.

I think it’s time that I went home.

And I don’t understand why I always feel

Dead and alone….”

[strryhaze]

bobby & david kennedy

“There was some level on which David tapped his father’s sensitivity. You would find him walking with David or with his arm around David. David just seemed to need it.”

— chuck mcdermott.

“If his father’s death hit David harder than the others, it was because there had been a special bond between them—both were the runts of the litter, sandwiched into the middle of a large family. He was the only one in the family who hadn’t been enthusiastic about the run for the presidency. For weeks after his father’s announcement, David had been plagued by recurring nightmares about Bobby’s death. Distraught over episodes that seemed premonitory, and missing the special attention his father had given him, David had gotten in trouble for throwing rocks at cars passing by Hickory Hill. The day of the California primary, he had joined his father in Los Angeles. The two of them had been swimming and he had felt himself being carried out by the undertow when his father grabbed him, scraping his own head on the ocean floor as he reached for David’s slippery arm. With a teenager’s melodrama, David had decided that he owed his father a life and would look for an opportunity to pay him back in the years ahead. That night as he sat in front of the television set in his room in the Ambassador Hotel and watched [his father] bleeding on the floor downstairs, one of the thoughts he had was that the debt would be forever undischarged.”

“As the worst year of their young lives came to a close, they decided to surprise their mother at Christmas with a book comprised of letters about their father. David’s said: ‘Daddy was very funny in church because he would embarrass all of us by singing very loud. Daddy did not have a very good voice. There will be no more football with Daddy, no more swimming with him, no more riding and no more camping with him. But he was the best father there ever was and I would rather have him for a father for the length of time I did than any other father for a million years.”

— the kennedy’s, peter collier & david horowitz.

“David looked at himself in those pictures like they were a strange sort of mirror. He looked at them half a dozen times at least, mesmerized by them, and he kept asking me questions. There was a tremendous desire to know his father, to really know him.”

— john seigenthaler.

“David and Bobby were so close. They were inseparable. David was small, a runt like Bobby had been.” Ethel then explained to Noelle (her secretary) that David had always been a very sensitive youngster, very introverted, "not like the other boys. He and I would go and pick flowers while his brothers were killing each other with their crazy games", Ethel recalled with a smile.

— ethel kennedy.

“I think about death a lot. Time hasn’t erased the death of my father from my mind. My family thinks I’m no good and that I’ll never beat my problem. They’ve written me off. I’m trying to get it together, but it’s so difficult. I’m having a terrible time at it. And the thing I want most in the world is the approval of my family, but they want nothing to do with me. All I want is to be with my father.”

— david kennedy, april 1984.

“Like his family, his friends had all wondered at one time or another if he would kill himself; but when it finally came his death was nonetheless shocking. ‘I keep asking myself why. Why David? Why now? All I can come up with is that maybe his father was looking down from heaven and saw all the hell these people were putting him through and said, ‘Come on, You’ve suffered enough. It’s time you were up here with me.’”

— nancy narleski.

Years after David Kennedy’s death, his cousin, Patrick Kennedy recalled a haunting and heartbreaking recollection he had with his father, Teddy, sitting beside his cousin’s casket: “My father remembered Bobby telling him that, as a father, he needed to spend more time with David. He also recounted a story Uncle Bobby had told him just before his own death. On the day before the California primary, the Robert Kennedys had gone swimming in Malibu, to relax together. David had been knocked over by a wave and got caught in the undertow, and his father had come to his rescue. When Uncle Bobby told my father this story, he talked about ‘the undertow’ in broader terms, how there was an undertow in life and David, who was only then thirteen, already seemed vulnerable to it. And then, just hours later, Uncle Bobby was murdered as David watched the TV coverage in their hotel room upstairs. It was unbelievably poignant to hear my father tell this story. David was in the casket next to us. And I wasn’t that much older than David when his father worried whether he could survive the undertow.”

[chipperchemical]

here's a headcanon for most Skizz ships to prove my theory that he is the most shippable man to ever exist

Bdubs/Skizz - Skizz pampers the HELL out of Bdubs. giving him random gifts, constant PDA, always letting him steal his clothes. (you know how when cats lick and clean rabbits, both the rabbit and the cat think they're the dominant one in the exchange? yeah. that's them.)

BigB/Skizz - they have the strangest uncle vibes you've ever seen. they'd show up to the gathering with homemade desserts, forget everyone's names twice, refer to each other as "roommate" while wearing wedding rings, and leave with the bowl of Doritos. cryptid couple.

Etho/Skizz - as they lay together, they'll both trace each other's scars oh-so-gently with their fingers. sometimes they'll trail kisses down them. Etho isn't much of a touch person, so Skizz treasures these rare moments when they're so intimate.

Scar/Skizz - they have watched the entirety of the Star Wars franchise about three times by now. Skizz still isn't really sure what it's about because Scar likes to ramble over the dialogue with trivia about each individual scene, but he prefers it that way anyway.

Grian/Skizz - it's pretty common to see them both up in the air, having a flying competition. Grian is objectively much better: he can swoop and curve and dive with such elegance, while Skizz can barely change direction without a bit of stumbling. they're both too competitive to give in though, and it's just so much fun! so far, the score is 82 - 0. (and hey, if all that flying exhausts them both so that they get home and cuddle until they sleep, then bonus!)

Impulse/Skizz - Skizz always seems to know when something is bothering Impulse, to the point where he'll fly across the server to see him because he "just had a bad feeling". it's always correct, and Skizz always makes sure to comfort Impulse.

Martyn/Skizz - they make each other laugh SO hard. it's rare to see them not smiling around each other because of how much chemistry and banter they have. absolute chaos bringers.

Mumbo/Skizz - Skizz can very easily pick Mumbo up as if he weighs nothing. if they're together, Mumbo barely gets the chance to walk anywhere because Skizz just loves carrying him bridal-style to various places. sometimes Skizz will even have Mumbo in one arm and another hermit in the other just to show off; Mumbo finds it quite handsome.

Pearl/Skizz - Pearl makes Skizz bouquets of flowers as random gifts, "just cause!". he keeps all of them in a vase in his base, keeping them until they're wilted and dying until she gifts him a new one. occasionally he'll put a flower in his suit pocket when they go out, to match with one in her hair.

Ren/Skizz - they're constantly play-arguing about who's the better lover, who's better at flirting, etc. they will only stop when Skizz pulls Ren in for a kiss so he physically can't argue back.

Scott/Skizz - they're all softness and sweetness. Skizz will talk to Scott in a softer voice than usual, making sure he bundles up warm or has a hearty breakfast; Scott laughs and pushes him away ("I don't need you mothering me!"), but he does find it quite endearing to not be so independent for once. bonus: they're totally like parents to the rest of the group. they've grounded Jimmy twice.

Joel/Skizz - the MOST competitive couple on the server. if they're going somewhere, it's a race; if they're flirting, it's a challenge; they are just non-stop. at first, Skizz tried to reign in Joel's competitiveness a bit, but it's just so much more fun to make everything into a playful competition. they are the reason Uno was banned at the group hangouts.

Jimmy/Skizz - refer to themselves as "jizzle" when together. they enjoy the sheer rage and disappointment that it's always met with.

Tango/Skizz - they are the MOST PDA couple you will EVER see. Tango is constantly calling Skizz handsome, hanging off of him, gently biting him on the arm; likewise, Skizz always has an arm around Tango, squeezing his cheeks as he tries to talk, pressing kisses all over his face and arms. it's sickeningly sweet.

Cleo/Skizz - they're both so chaotic but in such different ways: Cleo is one annoyance away from setting fire to someone while Skizz is one funny idea away from setting fire to himself. sometimes they have to reign each other in, but most of the time Cleo is burning down a building and Skizz is cheering them on from the sidelines. he brings little cheerleader pom-poms.

Zedaph/Skizz - they are banned from the kitchen after trying to make instant noodles in the coffee machine <3

[academicdisasterfic]

Writing Interview

tagged by the inimitable @lqtraintracks 💗

What’s your total ao3 word count? 181,945

Your top 5 stories by kudos?

- Sourdough with 3692

- Half Awake with 1333

- In the Shape of Things to Come with 1133

- A Melody of You & Me with 1023

- Career Day with 866

Do you respond to comments?

I try, but honestly, I’ve spent the last two years so burnt out and exhausted that it’s fallen to the wayside. I read and appreciate absolutely everything and try to respond when I have the energy; I still get flutters at Ao3 comment notifications in my email and I am fervently hoping one day to make up the slack.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

lol I absolutely am allergic to anything but a happy ending: I’d say a tolerance for pain but it has a sequel so not quite! Some of my microfics are quite angsty.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

All of them lol - I think the one that makes me the happiest is Half Awake. Objectively A Melody of You & Me or Sourdough is much fluffier but something about the way H&D learn each other in Half Awake feels closer to my own idea of what finding happiness feels like.

Do you write crossovers?

Not yet! Never say never - I’m thinking all the time of how much fun it’d be to write Drarry in various other universes.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yes and it’s hilarious to me every time. Girl who’s got the energy

Do you write smut?

I try but I am absolutely no connoisseur. I tend to write sex scenes more quickly & with less detail than I intend, but it’s something I’m working on!

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes and it made me so happy! It’s such a huge compliment.

Have you ever co-written a fic?

An absolute banger that will never see the light of day with @cavendishbutterfly

What’s your all time favourite ship?

There’s Drarry, obviously, but Wolfstar is equally as sacred to me.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I started writing a longer fic about three years ago that was intended to be a very slow burn friends to lovers and was kind of processing my own divorce. I think I just moved on, both in my own life and as a writer. I ended up using some bits of it for When the Flood Comes - the description of Hogwarts at the start and the Golden Trio’s dynamic is from that other fic, particularly the part where Ron wakes up and has to reassure himself that Harry came back from the forest.

What are your writing strengths?

I’m definitely a character focussed writer - I love writing dialogue and emotions, and I think that’s probably what I’m best at. I also love writing setting & atmosphere but I’m not quite where I want to be with it yet - that being said, none of my writing is where I want it to be, I’m chronically dissatisfied with all my words.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I am not a plot guy. I struggle with holding suspense over longer works and I think I rush too much. Sometimes I worry about being autistic and the way I express thoughts and emotions: I’ll read other work and think mine is too simplistic. I’m not very good with descriptions either, I don’t tend to describe appearances too much.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in fic?

Big yes!!! So many fic writers speak English as their second language and have to write in English all the time; I love seeing mother tongues being written in. I probably wouldn’t feel confident enough to write in a language I didn’t speak but I’ve seen people do it really well with betas who can translate.

What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

I think I’ve written everything I really want to - perhaps one day a short angsty Narcissa/Pansy, I’ve loved the idea of them for a while but I’ve not had the time.

What’s your favourite thing you’ve ever written?

My favourite fic I’ve written is When the Flood Comes - political intrigue was a new beast for me, but I loved writing it, and I also love Harry and Draco’s dynamic in it. Outside of fic, my original novel is my favourite overall, and I’m so proud that I finished it. I didn’t really believe that I’d be able to write a full novel until I actually did it, and it changed how I thought of myself as a writer. It’ll always hold a special place in my heart.

Tagging @cavendishbutterfly @saxamophone @saintgarbanzo @nv-md @sleepstxtic @oknowkiss @basicallyahedgehog @moonmanateee and anyone who wants to participate - I love reading these, please tag me!