#but man do they have good moments in that general vicinity

[iceunhie]

latibule.

premise. in which all too many intrusions come in the form of one particular shadow guard. (or, moze always looks to you to patch him up. inexplicably, you let him do so anyway.)

warnings: gn!reader, pining moze but he's too edgy to know, one kimi ni todoke inspired (?) scene, treating injuries, banter (obviously), probably ooc, feixiao cameo, based off of the new quest, kinda mid writing

notes: not proofread i have no excuse i just like him okay???? inspired by @luvether's mozeqiu/reader fic (i love ur works ☹️) ty @lowkeyren for the chinese help!

“You're here again, Moze.”

In the wee hours between 1AM to 3AM, it has become a daily occurence for you to tend to Moze's injuries.

He nods. “I'm here.”

Despite having a perfectly (super) capable healer who attends to even the Lady General personally at her behest, you do not know why Moze always ends up at your window of all things during the ungodly hours of the moon's turn, complete with stupid, easily treatable cuts all across his body.

As General Feixiao's Representative Proxy, such work is not your forte—and rarely do you ever employ your few practiced arts in healing; the result often clumsy and sloppy, just enough to treat the few cuts Moze sports.

Still, it has since become routine to patch Moze up, and despite your insistence that he take care of himself more, the ashy haired man never listens, instead ending up at your home. You wonder if he does this on purpose.

Next time, you think, you're never going to open the windowsill for him again.

You open the windowsill further to let him in. Hypocrite, your mind echoes unhelpfully. Great, you must be losing your mind.

“Got into trouble again, hm?”

His expression tells you that whoever he fought wasn't all that—show-off—internally, you roll your eyes. “...Will you patch me up?”

No, your mind tells you, the words are at the tip of your tongue; you're always sneaking in here at night, and making me go through all this trouble.

(Your actions betray a different tune altogether.)

You don't know when Moze started to make you his personal healer despite Jiaoqiu in the vicinity; a moment of worry led to one thing, and now here you are, Moze's budget Jiaoqiu at home. The thought makes you laugh to yourself. Compared to the foxian, your skills could be described as subpar at best.

(Complaining to your own Lady General was no use. Incredulously, Feixiao believed that it was because—

“You're special.” Feixiao says with a grin. “Is it not obvious that it is because he wishes to see you?”

“What?” Looking at her, your voice is a tired drawl of resignation. “....My Lady, it seems your recent exposure to the Luofu's romance novels have dulled your judgement. Shall I call for Jiaoqiu?”

“Wha- Hey, don't call me senile!” Your Lady General deadpans, “Anyway, I'm telling you, Moze likes you!”)

“Why is it always me?” you grumble under your breath, though it doesn't escape Moze's ears.

It's good that you don't expect an answer; if Moze had to be honest, he doesn't know why he always goes to you either.

“Why wouldn't it be you?” Moze says, not missing a beat.

Your cheeks warm, the heat crawling up your neck from his audacious words. Jeez, he really doesn't know his effect on people, did he?

“...Not to mention, Jiaoqiu is asleep.”

Never mind. “Know the shame.”

“I don't wish to disturb Jiaoqiu as well.”

“Oh, so you see it fit to bother me but don't bother with Jiao-gege?”

“You'll live.” Moze blinks. Frowns. “Wait, did you just call him... gege?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Yes, what about it?”

“Since when were you two so close?”

“Mm, since a certain guard stops by my home at twilight hour?”

“....”

Sighing, your hands are nimble against the bandages, looping the white cloth in your palm and dabbing at the corners of Moze's face, gentle. Up close, his face is all sharp edges and harsh lines. Whether he notices how you gulp when you approach closer, swiping the cloth along his lower lip, he holds his tongue, for fear of disturbing whatever it was, permeating between the two of you like a thick haze, afraid of destroying the peaceful silence.

He watches, instead, as you scrub away the little bit of blood on his cheek.

You're talking; something about him being too reckless, taking care of himself more, yet he finds that he can't catch a word of what you're saying, focusing only on one thing.

Your hands are warm.

Heat creeps up to his neck like coiling vines, twisting his stomach, all because of you. Moze's heart thrums, breath stolen away—you're so close, it's unbearable—and he fights to keep himself even remotely neutral. All because of you.

“Moze?”

What are you doing to him? Why does he always come back to you? Is he sick?

“You're burning up.” You press your hand against his neck; and funnily enough, the thought of leaning into your touch crosses Moze's mind—it's maddening how much he wants to do so.

Blinking once, Moze looks to find you pulling away, and before he can think of it, his fingers wrap around your wrist in an iron grip, carefully maintained distance discarded.

“...?”

“Ah, wait, it's fine— Just—” don't pull away.

What?

Moze coughs. “Just continue.”

The night's breeze flows throughout your home; the chuang kou is wide open, with Moze looking less like General Feixiao's most trusted aide and more akin to an obedient dog. It's humiliation, Moze thinks—but when it was you, his dignity could be in tatters for all he cares.

Your eyes soften, just a bit, “If you say so.”

Inexplicably, relief assaults Moze's senses like a balm to his soul. Because the idea of being perceived, heard—by you—affects him in a dizzying, confounding way, and he knows not how to cure such an ailment whose only cure is your presence.

And maybe, just maybe, it's why he can never stop returning to you. Let you think him a fool, an idiot—so as long as he ends up at your window, by your side, it's a small price to pay.

“Okay.” he affirms, loosening his grip, (never you, though) finally letting you finish patching him up as you plaster what remains of the white bandages upon his face.

Noticeably, he doesn't let go of your hand.

“Okay.” you echo, and finally, you're finished with your work. The sight of Moze all bandaged up perfectly and finally getting to sleep makes you happier than you should be, the prospect of sleep way too enticing.

“There, all done. Take care of yourself better next time, 'kay?”

He hums, “I'll keep that in mind.”

“You sure you will?”

“Yes.” Moze looks at you, and he looks at you like it would be a sin of the greatest kind to take his eyes of off you; holding your presence in his irises, emulating you deeply onto his pupils, his tendons and his limbs. “I will.”

(How could he ever not listen to you?)

You release him, much to Moze's reluctance—opening the closed chuang kou. The night breeze welcomes Moze, kissing his skin, with the colors of the rising sun beginning to rise, vibrancy in the darkness of the inky night.

“...Moze?” you call, in the corner of your eye, seeing him already putting a foot on the rooftop.

“Jeez, if you wanted to see me that much, just tell me instead of going through all this trouble, really....” you mumble, glad that your back is turned from him, lest he sees the heat dusting your cheeks. You know Moze has probably left, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

Well, you'll bring it up another time, then. Something tells you he'll listen, this time.

This time, you don't ignore the flutter of the butterflies in your stomach.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

(“Jeez, if you wanted to see me that much, just tell me instead of going through all this trouble, really....”

In the darkened corner of shadow, a figure slumps disgracefully with a loud thud. Using a hand to grip the side of the wall, nothing can compare to the burning heat crawling up Moze's skin, positively flushed.

Moze puts a hand to his face, slumping further to a near kneel.

It's warm—just like the ghostly feeling of your hands upon his skin minutes prior.

Maybe he'll take you up on your offer.)

a/n: sorry for the long sporadic activity :,D this is what a chuang kou looks like btw

[0luv9]

forlorn || mattheo riddle

Summary: based on this request.

Beware: angst, fluff, slightly aged-up characters, Hufflepuff reader, sweet reader, she/her pronouns used, mostly in second person, jealousy, mistreatment, a little bit of blood, slightly commanding(?) and intimidating Mattheo.

Words: 7.8k (not beta read)

Note: I am sorry luv, I don't think I did justice to the request. I also apologize for taking so long. I still hope you like it, even if it's just a bit. @cat-loves-music

Mattheo Riddle, son of Voldemort, or Tom Riddle if you will—for a more humane approach. But then, there's no humanity in the way he's treated. Always an outsider, always a monster.

There is wealth to his name; after all, he is the only living heir of Salazar Slytherin. However, his blood is corrupt, shunned by the very people who kissed the steps his baby feet took. Looked down on by the blood supremacists and not accepted by the other side, the "good side."

Even he was tired of the same sob story. He doesn't even need to introduce himself; they already have a preconceived image of him in their minds. He could try to fix his image in an ideal world, but even then, what would he say?

'Hello, everyone, I'm Mattheo Riddle, son of the man who once threatened your lives. Please welcome me with warm hands.'

Too cliché? Yes, but it's true and the only truth he knew.

Riddle didn't even know why the name Riddle was cursed and didn't know what his father did that made everyone's hate transcend generations. What made their hatred justified and his hate a crime? He didn't know until it was too late.

Mattheo was raised by the only living relative of his, his mother's aunt—the one who died recently. The one who kept all this hidden away from him hid all the Hogwarts' letters, raised him like her own, and protected him until her last breath. She loved him but all within the vicinity of the manor. He didn't know the world that existed beyond those walls.

He knew about the world outside only through the books she'd let him read. He thought it would feel liberating to step off the lavish floors onto the rich earth. It was everything but that.

"But Nona, why can't I go outside?" he remembers asking that silly question when he was about nine. What he wouldn't do to get that naivety back.

"Because, my dear, there are people out there who wouldn't like you. There are bad people outside ready to punish you," he also remembers crying when she told him that. He didn't understand why people would hate him. He just wanted to try the chocolate frogs he read about.

He just wanted to talk to all the different animals out there, the same way he could talk to the garden snakes.

"But I didn't do anything wrong, Nona. Tell them that I'm a good boy. I can even give them some of my toys. Will they like me then?" If only it were that easy. His Nona cried for the first time in front of him then, looking at all the toys he had set onto her lap, looking at her with teary eyes, pleading, "I didn't do anything wrong, Nona, I promise."

Mattheo didn't understand her tears back then, but now as he stands all alone, those same tears fall out his eyes. It's useless. "They'll know that someday, moon pie. You aren't wrong. They'll know." They'll know? What a fucking joke.

Mattheo tries to enjoy the view in front of him, you know. But how can he? When his batchmates are out there partying and enjoying life, he's been a lone wolf all his life. Yet in moments like this, he seems to forget his old ways of existing.

There's not much he can do anyway; he's not needed anywhere. In fact, they all want him gone. Finding beauty in small things is hard when misery clings to him. There's self-loathing in the way he thinks about the night and himself. There's nothing positive he can say.

You'd think that he must've gotten used to it all by now. No, he hasn't; it only got worse. At least little Mattheo held hope that people would understand someday or the other. Every bit of hope was destroyed by the very people who would've feared him had his father been alive. In moments like this, he wished he could see the man, live as the son they paint him as.

He'd have someone to lean onto then, someone to call his own. At least his father would've loved him. But this last bit of consolidation too was stolen away from him when he got to know that he was a backup plan for his father. Mattheo Riddle was not supposed to exist. His father wanted to live on forever; he was the last option the so-called Dark Lord had, to produce an heir and have them further his cause, and control his life as Tom lived on his last lifeline.

But all of it died with him. Mattheo promised himself that he would never be the man they all expected him to be, the man they wanted to point fingers at. So, he stayed in line. But then he thinks, sometimes, maybe, what if—you know?

He simply stares up at the brightly lit sky, it's a shame that he's the only one out there to appreciate the scenic beauty because he's physically and mentally incapable of appreciating anything, you can't blame him now, can you?

Cold breeze in mid-August, how fucking ridiculous just like this life of his, so unlike his peers, who were out there partying and having the time of their lives, the music vibrating through the walls was like salt on wounds. He'd like to drink a few and chat with his friends but then again, he hasn't got any. And it's the bitter truth that he's not welcome there, he'd be greeted with nasty looks if he tried to enter any such party, they'd all glance his way like the ominous thing he is. It's times like this when he really contemplates it.

Mattheo looks down from the height he's on, no one would care anyway, the fall will kill him, might just give it an actual try unlike those previous attempts- he's been a coward all his life, never ready to face the extremes of life but he has nothing to protect at the moment, he's come far too long, life was never going to be worth it.

He climbs over the railing onto the brick ledge, sitting down for a moment, to take it all in for the last time ever. Mattheo remembers all the whispers that followed him, the suspicious looks passed along the way, those words of disdain- at the same time the thoughts of a happy life enter his mind, it all feels unattainable, in fact, he's so far gone he can't even picture joy, all he sees is bright colours when he thinks of a happy life.

Mattheo had desperately sought relief all his life, but the pain only worsened with time, it's only reasonable to want to end this feeling of hopelessness. The weight of his family's legacy feels heavy on his shoulders. He slouches over and looks down once again, sighing as his eyes shift to the ring on his finger, the other Gaunt ring, he slowly removes it- a pathetic heir he is, he doesn't deserve it, couldn't live up to the name, disappointing both sides of the world.

Maybe they should have destroyed this along with his father's ring but apparently, his dear sweet Nona thought he could change their fate, change the course of history, change the Gaunt legacy for the better, fuck- he couldn't even try and change people's perception about him. Even in this sense, he's nothing like his predecessors, incapable of leaving a mark, of changing the world, be it for the better or the worse. He's just fucking worthless- he fiddles with the ring as he shifts a bit closer to the edge, ready to let go of it.

"Nice ring," he turns around startled, "Mattheo, isn't it?" not Riddle? He hadn't heard his own name in a long time, no one had directly addressed him in years let alone called him by his first name. It all feels foreign, he simply nods not knowing what to say. "Do you mind if I join you?" you don't wait for a response though and carefully bend and climb through the gaps between the two rails, settling down beside him. "Hi, I'm-" he doesn't hear it, he's too focused on your face, you were dolled up, for the party he thinks, but then why are you here of all places? Was this some kind of prank? He steals a glance back at the entrance and the seemingly empty hallway, to see if anyone is waiting for a reaction.

"You know you shouldn't sit so close to the edge, you might fall down," you grab his forearm urging him to move back, your hand feels warm on his skin, it feels unnatural, his hands are always cold. Even though it's on him for a couple of seconds he can't help the multiple emotions going on about in his mind and before he can sort them out, his mouth decides to act on its own, "Why aren't you at the party?" "Oh-" you look disappointed, and he apologises right away, not wanting to upset the only person who had the decency to talk to him, "Sorry, I shouldn't have asked," he's quick to defend himself, it's a natural response after all but you only seemed amused, "No, it quite alright, I was just surprised by your voice-" "Is it that bad?" "Gosh no! It's just not what I expected, quite rough, it's nice," you are quick to shut him up, "And about your question, I am annoyed at my friends forcing me to try more drinks and all, I just came up here to relax."

"I can leave if you'd like," you add on as an afterthought, but you really didn't want to go, it was the only place with some peace, unlike the loud corridors and dorms, where you were mad at your friends and were in no mood for a party. "No, it's quite alright, I was just surprised," he tries to lighten the mood, repeating your words jokingly, it works, you laugh and properly look at him instead of the waters ahead.

"Haha so funny," you say in a monotonous voice, trying to act like you didn't just laugh but you can't contain your smile, and he finds it quite beautiful. You look down at the ring between the two of you, "it's a beautiful ring I must say," You compliment it again since he hadn't acknowledged it before. Mattheo thanked you quietly trying to think of a response that might not make you run away from him.

It's been only a few minutes and you've said more nice things to him than he has ever heard in his whole life, it's quite ridiculous when he thinks about it, seemingly you find it quite easy to compliment him. He stays quiet not knowing how to take a compliment, but you don't let the silence continue, you look around trying to find something to talk about and soon enough you start talking and he's glad, "You know about those plants right there?" you point to the shrubs at some distance from the castle walls. Mattheo shakes his head unable to recall if he had seen them before. "It's alright but now that you know, you have something to look forward to this upcoming month!" you smile yet again, cheerful that you have something to share.

"What's special about them?" "It's not the plant itself but the fireflies that live there!" Mattheo tries hard to keep up with your energy and pace, "Why aren't they out now? They aren't migratory, are they?" "That's what makes it special unlike fireflies that are present throughout the summer, these ones light up only for the last week of August," "I'll look forward to it," "You should! I missed it last year and then everyone thought I was lying when I mentioned it." Mattheo frowns, "No one knows about them? Not even the professors?" "The professors would know but it wasn't that serious that I'd take it up to them," Mattheo finds it difficult to relate, he always would let everyone know that he was in the right if the facts favour him because no way in hell would he let anyone see him in the wrong light, he couldn't bear to be in the wrong.

And it slips out his mouth, "I would've argued till they knew I was right," "I don't like arguing though, reminds me of my parents, they parted ways because they argued a lot, so I try to avoid it myself," his lips purse trying to think of an appropriate response, "Anyway, you are in Slytherin right?" it wasn't a question, you just knew, "I'm in Hufflepuff, nice to meet you!" you turn towards him and extend your hand with a smile, he can't help but mirror your smile, "Nice to meet you indeed." Your hand feels soft in his, he was finding it hard to let go but you pull your hand back almost instantly- remembering something, "OH right I forgot, do you like chocolates?" Mattheo was quite taken aback by your energetic self, it was infectious, "Of course you do, it's a silly question, I mean who doesn't like chocolate-" you stop midway and fix him with a scrutinising look, "Unless you are some heartless monster-" "Nah I like chocolate alright," "Good good."

You fish through your jacket's pocket and pull out two chocolate bars, "It's muggle chocolate," you place one in his hand, "Muggle? I've never had muggle candy," Mattheo inspects the small sweet in his hand, "You are missing out then!" you chuckle as you take the wrapper off yours, "I'll eat it tomorrow, thank you," He pockets it and looks ahead with a small smile, tonight's beautiful now that he looks at it.

"You are a muggle born then?" Mattheo can't help but want to know more, because how dare his fucking father go after your lot, "Yep, I was surprised you know? To receive the letter, I thought it was some prank but of course, after a few days I realised how real it was, couldn't have been happier, to be away from home." It's funny because all Mattheo wants to do is go back to the gloomy old mansion and here you were saying the opposite, the stark difference between the two of you was obvious to him.

You ramble on and he listens, it's nothing but enjoyable to listen to mundane stories being narrated with such interest, he finds himself smiling a bit too much, to the point where his face hurts but he doesn't care because you are quite the lovely company to be around.

Muggle-born, the same year as him, Hufflepuff, living with your mom- it's not the best back home he gathers that much. You were angry at your friends and were going to hold a grudge if they didn't apologise. He learned a lot about you in that one hour and learned a few things about him as well, he didn't know he had jokes like that OR you were just too kind to laugh at his bad quips, whatever it was he was grateful because you didn't make him feel bad or like a burden. Mattheo was glad that you were the talkative one and that you didn't expect him to share anything if he wasn't comfortable, also the fact that he didn't want to send you running away by talking more about himself.

He admires the fond smile you wear when you talk, the stars reflect a bit too brightly in your eyes, and he inhales breathing in your scent, it's surreal, the moment. Mattheo didn't quite think properly until you left, wishing him a good night, "it was nice spending time with you, Mattheo!" He wonders if you knew how much it meant to him.

...

He finds out your name the next day and sees you everywhere, it's annoying because he was tired since he couldn't sleep thinking all night about you and now he has to see your face again. Now that he knows you, he can't seem to avoid you, earlier it was easy to be blind but now, everything else seems like a blind spot but you. Or maybe it's that his head is not hanging low, avoiding looking up at people.

Mattheo got over the irritation rather quickly, discreetly looking at you, eyes following every movement of yours. But you don't look at him once, he was just like any other guy to you, the realisation both hurts and feels nice, knowing that you don't demonise him but also the fact that he's no one special either. And maybe, he can live with that.

He notices the large number of people you keep around, you are never alone, always surrounded by a group and you are always the one talking, you are clearly popular. How had he not noticed you before? But then again he knew no one in the school apart from the professors, he never tried to get to know anyone because of course his fate wouldn't allow that.

Mattheo seeks out the solace of the library to keep you out of his mind for a while but the plan doesn't seem to work when he finds the chocolate you gave him in his bag. He simply sighs, knowing that there is no escape, unwarps the sweet and pops it into his mouth, shutting his eyes, and recalls your sweet smile. Warmth takes over his body, it feels nice like this, he has to talk to you once again because that can't be the only interaction he has with you, not when it's all he can think about. He breathes out slowly, staring down at the wrapper and mindlessly reading the information on the back, his jaw tightens as he realizes his stupid pathetic feelings. Mattheo puts the wrapper in his quill case and tries to study with a head full of you.

...

Okay, now it was really starting to bother him, he practically couldn't keep his eyes off you, it's like a spell had charmed him in. He wasn't even trying to be discreet at this point, he downright stared at you from a distance, it was creepy, he was aware of that but he couldn't bring himself to give a damn. Mattheo doesn't like this new feeling you've instilled in him, it's sweet and it's fucking uncomfortable. He finds it extremely difficult to get rid of you from his thoughts, so he gives up on trying and lets his mind go on autopilot.

The way you talked to him without any judgement in your eyes that day, the images of you repeated over and over again in his mind. Even when he sees you with someone else he can't help but think you are in front of him telling him a story, with those animated expressions of yours, but then seconds later he comes to his senses and sees the smile that's not directed at him, the one you gave to everyone, him too. He thinks it was your pity, that made you talk to him. He didn't feel like he was burdening you then but now when he thinks of approaching you, he knows he'd be burdening you. Your life looks no different, every day is full of joy, and you aren't smiling any less.

Why would you talk to him of all people? Perhaps, you only talked to him that day because you needed a change of scenery and not because you wanted to, he's wrong in thinking that but he's also deluded. It's the only way he keeps himself at peace, to not see meaning in your words, to not long for your company.

But he's a Riddle after all, some things just run in your blood, he has his eyes set on you and he finds it difficult to look away. New dream of his, and he'd like to have it, no matter how unattainable it feels. Yet he hasn't got a clue, it's all too new, and he doesn't know what to do, he'd like to have a plan but what would the plan even say? Go and talk to her? Yeah, like he's about to embarrass himself in front of her.

...

Your eyes stretch at the sight of him sitting in the library, alone but not in some deserted corner, he had claimed the whole couch in the centre of the room, sitting right in the middle, reading a book leaning back, a frown on his face. He looked intimidating, and to be honest, you were scared of him, the little beer in you that night had given you the courage to approach him, maybe your fate was too kind to let you find him that night but now your nerves were on fire.

It was no secret to you that he had been staring at you the past couple of weeks, but you couldn't understand the look on his face, his jaw was always clenched, eyes narrowed, and not a hint of emotion on his face. Was he mad at you? Was he the planning on-

No. You didn't like to think about it, you didn't want him to be the man they paint him as, he's just a boy, your age, maybe that's another reason why you hadn't approached him. Staying away because you were scared that they'd be right, you'd rather delve into what ifs than actually be heartbroken, your imagination brought you bliss.

But would it really be your mind if it would let you just forget it? You think and think, getting worked up over every little interaction you've had with him. How could he be evil? He talked to you so nicely the other day, even- even though you were a muggle-born, a mud blood. But when you see how he looks at you, you can't help but feel scared.

It really was an intimidating sight, your courage wore thin but you had made up your mind. You approach him cautiously, as you greet him, you start feeling jittery and flushed, "Hey Mattheo."

Mattheo jerked his head up as he heard your voice, surprised, caught off guard in fact, he didn't trust his words just yet so he simply nodded at you, acknowledging your presence, closing the book and setting it aside, all his attention on you. "I came here to study and noticed you," you look around bashfully before continuing, "I just wanted to ask you if you liked the chocolate I gave you the other day, you know the one with dark brown wrapper-" "Yeah I did," He stops you from rambling on, not that he had any problem with it but you clearly seemed nervous, he just wanted to ease your nerves, "Right so-" you quickly pull out a small pack of the chocolate from your sling bag placing it beside him, straightening up, "I'll go then, enjoy-" you are quick to turn away from him, cursing yourself in your mind, blaming yourself for making things more awkward than they already were.

Mattheo stops you in your tracks as he calls you by your name, you turn around, and he speaks in that cold voice of his, "You said you were here to study right?" you nod timidly, clutching onto the straps of your bag, he leans back and with a flick of his wrist, a table and chair are summoned in front of him, "then study," he motions to the chair opposite of him.

You were quite taken aback, you stood there for a bit before actually registering his words, and you quietly sat down, you didn't have it in you to disobey him, he was Mattheo Riddle for fucks sake, he looked and sounded like someone who doesn't take no for an answer.

A small smile tugged at his lips as he watched you carefully sit down, looking down, not meeting his gaze, he couldn't believe it, you obliged his wishes? Mattheo leaned back fully, arms folding as he watched you, brown eyes capturing each detail, amusement crawled over his face as he watched you pull out multiple books all at once, various colourful stationery items sprawled out all over the table. You looked pretty like this, stray strands of hair framing your face, lips pursed in concentration. He knew how creepy he was being, so he opened his book again and tried to read but he simply couldn't not when you were sitting in front of him, he relished your presence and this was so unlike the others, every time he had looked at you- you had been surrounded by people, so it was a sight to behold, only for him to admire. So he did, in secret, glancing up at you, every few seconds.

It's been two hours and not once did he get bored of looking at you, a small smile lingered on his face as you closed your books and looked up at him, "How's that book?" you nod towards the book in his hand- the one he was supposed to be reading, "Good, good" he bites the inside of cheek as he lies through his teeth, "Got everything done?" he sets his book aside, fixing you with a soft stare, "Yes, I just wanted to revise a bit, I forget stuff easily if I don't revise regularly," you tilt your head a bit, his eyes were much softer now, and it made your heart flutter a bit, feeling a lot more comfortable than before, so you do what you usually do when you are comfortable- talk.

"By the way, did you study for the upcoming herbology test?" And before he could answer, you pulled out a piece of paper from your bag, "This is like the holy grail, a senior gave it to me last year, it has all the specifics, of recognising plants and how to make generalised guesses about their uses-" you speak in a hushed voice, slightly leaning over the table, eyes wide as you shared your little secret, "you can have it, I have it memorised haha" You bless him with that pretty smile of yours, pushing the paper towards him, you don't let him refuse the offer and start talking about something else, he gives you a small smile, and it makes your insides turn into mush, you bite your lip trying to contain your smile, eyes shy as you start fiddling with your hands on your lap.

You talked for hours, he was much more open this time, and the conversation flowed smoothly between the two of you, it was you who mostly did the talking but he didn't seem to mind he looked more than pleased, he didn't like talking much, it seemed, so you filled in the gaps, made it look so effortless like it was easy talking to him, maybe it was easy for you but to him, it made him feel warm and fuzzy inside. You two stopped only when the librarian came in and told you it was curfew time, your eyes widened as you turned to look back at him, an amused smile on your face, both of you got up, walking beside each other, not uttering a word till you were out of the librarian's stern gaze.

"I made you miss dinner-" your eyes widened further as soon as the two of you got out, stepping into the empty hallway, "it's alright, I don't mind," you playfully rolled your eyes at him, he chuckled at your antics, "yeah sure, but your stomach would, but- we can sneak into the kitchens, you know, sneak some food out," you wiggle your eyebrows at him with a sheepish grin on your face, he scoffs in disbelief, a fond smile gracing his face, "something tells me, this isn't your first time sneaking around."

"No, it's not," you chuckle a bit before continuing, "So, are you coming or not?" you purse your lips, looking up at him with doe eyes and he questions your motives right then because there's no way you didn't have a clue about what you were doing, "would be an idiot to say no," he muttered under his breath shaking his head, "I didn't catch that-", "Yes, I am."

You give him a pleased smile, you looked so happy at that moment, he was rooted in his position as you started walking ahead of him, he had to look away to catch his breath, "Merlin" he exhaled, a hand reaching over to his chest to soothe his loud thumping heart, and in that moment he knew he was a goner.

"Mattheo-?" you turned around since you didn't hear him walk with you but soon he rushed to your side the moment you looked back, you gave him another smile as he walked beside you, he looked straight ahead then, you needed to stop doing that because no fucking way- would he be able to let go of you.

You lead him to the kitchen, both of you cautious, well just you- he was having the time of his life, getting a detention would be worth it, just a small price to pay. Mattheo repeatedly stole glances here and there, the moment you entered the kitchen, you grabbed his arm and pulled his painfully slow self in, "gosh- you sure do walk slow," you glare at him, but there's no malice in your eyes, instead they are just amused, you roll your eyes when he just shrugs in response, moving over to the tables. Mattheo just looked at you with fond eyes, he was just trying to buy more time with you by walking slowly and he didn't feel one bit guilty about it, he felt a bit too proud. 

You sigh dramatically before returning to him with a small tray in your hands, "I didn't find anything else, apart from these blueberry muffins," your eyes wander around once more trying to see if you missed something, "usually there's still stuff left, that's weird- oh well, at least we have these," you give him a small defeated smile, setting the tray on the table, shrugging as you felt that muffins weren't worth the effort of sneaking around and that you only troubled him further. Mattheo saw through you and he hated that you were feeling that way, "didn't I mention this to you? I love muffins, especially the blueberry ones." he gave you a small smile, picking up the muffin, taking a bite, "yeah, that's good, way better than the dry vegetable and chicken pies they make." He didn't look at you as he said that, but you smiled, realising what he was trying to do, you wanted to cry, why was he being so considerate? You were now beginning to go down a spiral, of all the times you thought of him in the wrong light, how dare you even think like that? 

Mattheo caught you staring and it was hard for him to control the heat that rose to his cheeks, he cleared his throat, "What? You don't like these? Well, guess they are all for me-" he teased, taking the tray in his hand and started walking away, "Hey! No-" you rushed after him with an amused smile, "I want one too," and the tray was shoved back into your hands, "better not eat all of them, yeah?" he gave you a small cheeky wink, leaning against the table, finishing the muffin in his hand. 

Mattheo offered to walk you back to your dorm, he didn't have to insist much, after all, you wanted to spend time with him too, you easily agreed after a couple of tries. You two walked in comfortable silence, as you neared the Hufflepuff dormitory, you were thinking about how you'd part ways, overthinking about what would be appropriate and in the mix of it, you just gave him an awkward side hug, squeezing his arm a bit before mumbling a quick "goodnight" and rushing in. 

He couldn't believe his eyes, were you blushing? No way, he must be imagining things. Mattheo could still feel your warm touch lingering on his side, the scene playing over and over again in his mind, he wanted to scream out of excitement- he was getting cuteness aggression, had to be it, his fists clenched at his side as he stared at the door, for god knows how long, if he could- he would've squeezed you into a bone-crushing hug, but you were quick, left him speechless. 

He walked back to the Slytherin dorm without any trouble, he closed the door behind himself and leaned back against it, he was pretty sure his skin was burning with all the warmth that was flowing through his veins. Merlin, he was embarrassing! Mattheo sighed contently, a big smile on his face as he replayed the whole day, your smile- 

...

The next few days, you guys didn't talk at all, he was back to staring and this time, when you did catch him in the act, instead of pretending you didn't see him, you gave him a knowing smile and a wave. Lingering looks, and subtle greetings, were sweet, Mattheo was now on a new high, he couldn't get enough. But for some reason, he maintained his distance, he stuck to looking at you from afar, it felt comfortable this way, not wanting to taint your reputation by talking to you in front of others, he'd talk to you if it was only you but you were never alone. 

Mattheo starts seeing life for what it is, when he looks at the trees outside, the castle in its entirety, he feels like he is seeing it for the first time. How had he missed this? He finds himself back at the astronomy tower, he looks at the lake ahead, it was a sight to behold, and he is starting to appreciate the view, these days he didn't care about much, you were all he could think about and you were more than pleasant, it was as if the grey lens of his life was replaced with a coloured one, and it would be foolish to credit anyone else but you for it, and he was fucking grateful for it. The reason he was here was, that it was the end of August, and the fireflies you so damn wished to see would be out tonight, he came here just in the hope that he'll get to see you alone. 

He was zoning out when some movement near the edge of the lake caught his eye, it was you- with a few of your friends, his smile faltered the moment he saw some blonde Hufflepuff dude pull you to his side, slinging a hand over your shoulder, you all walked towards the shrubs and didn't have to wait long before the fireflies lit up and started raising above the shrubs. He was about to leave, he was mad for some reason, really pissed- but then he took another look at you. You were standing a bit behind your friends, who had all their attention on the flies ahead, you seemed sad, looking down, messing with the soil beneath your shoe, hands in your jacket. Mattheo could make out the pout on your face, the deflated shoulders, you then turned to look right where he was, and he felt his breath catch in his throat.

Your posture straightened immediately, the pretty smile returning to your face as you looked up at the astronomy tower balcony, having spotted him, you waved at him. Mattheo nodded, forearms on the railing as he leaned forward, a smile gracing his features, the anger leaving him. You excitedly pointed at the sky, and he nodded, you turned back around when your friend called you and he couldn't look away, he was staring at you till you left, Mattheo started feeling the warmth creep up to him when he saw you making an effort to steal back glances at him. He felt seen, fucking special- 

...

Mattheo still hadn't talked to you, he couldn't catch you alone really, it was starting to get to him, he longed to hear your voice, hear you talk to him- and yet, he didn't have it in him to approach you in front of others, it would ruin you, you thrived in the company of others, he couldn't snatch that away from you. Maybe if he was a bit more selfish, he'd do it, snatch you away from others, have you all to himself but he wasn't about that life, it was something his father would do, he's sure of it, go after what he wants, not caring what others would think- 

Mattheo feels like passing out when you deliberately look at him just to give him a shy smile, a flushed look on your face. He walks away because he cannot handle looking at you, the urge is too strong, to just take you into his arms, he walks out to the empty hallway, a hand over his chest- it had become a subconscious habit of his, whenever you gave him that smile, the one that felt like it was just reserved for him, yeah that one, he felt like he was in heaven, you sent his heart rate through the roof when you did that, it borderline hurt him since he couldn't do much to satiate this feeling. 

The longing was etched into his eyes when he looked at you, one thing he realised was, that when he had his head up, no one dared to look his way, he was enjoying that power for some reason, it filled his veins with something dark, he liked seeing people look down instead of him looking down, it felt fucking nice, and it felt even better when the only person that did look at him, was you. People averted their eyes when he entered the room, choosing to ignore his presence but the fear was very much evident, so he knew they didn't see him staring at you but at this point, he really couldn't bring himself to make an active effort to look away even if someone noticed. 

It was no lie, that Mattheo wasn't up to date with all the gossip and news, he just lived life passively but now that he was out there more, he couldn't help but hear the words that fell onto his ears, Yule Ball, huh. WAIT- ball dance? That meant having a date, who were you going with? Fuck his mind was rambling shit to him, he could not let someone else take you to a fucking dance as their date, no, he wouldn't let that happen. He had to get to you before someone else did, it was nighttime, and tomorrow's the weekend, approaching you will be the first thing he'll do after he wakes up, he has to plan shit out, you know, make it special and heartfelt, you deserved nothing less.

But his heart nearly broke when he overheard two Slytherin guys talking about you. The way one of them talked about you made his blood boil, his jaw clenched tight, nails drawing blood from his palms as they dug into his coarse skin, "I told you not to ask her out, plenty of guys tried and guess what? She rejected them all." the guy who was being talked to only scoffed angrily, "She's a fucking slut, that's what she is, leading people on-" the other boy just stopped him and Mattheo exhaled, a bit relieved because if it wasn't for him, Mattheo would've smacked the guy and pushed him to the fucking wall, "dude, come on, that's not true, all she did was smile at you when you gave her your seat, she's a nice girl," these guys were in the fifth year, he recognised that much, "sure, whatever," the guy walked away to his room, making sure to loudly slam the door behind him. 

Mattheo then gets up and walks towards the guy left behind, the one who stood up for you, when he stands in front of him, he sees the dude cower into the seat, Mattheo tries to speak in a polite voice but the anger is still radiating off him, his irritated stare didn't help either, "she doesn't have a date, yeah?" his hands were behind his back, over one another, the blood still fresh, "who-o?" the guy stutters out, looking around for help but no one was there- "You know who," he fixes him with a glare, before uttering your name out loud, "no no, she doesn't, rejected them all." Mattheo then nods at him and leans back, then finally he walks back to his room, allowing the guy to catch his breath. 

Mattheo feels relief wash over him as he lets the information sink in, okay good, you didn't have a date but then again, why were you rejecting them all? What if you reject him as well? Yeah, he couldn't handle that wound, he'd fucking die, he contemplates whether he should ask you or not but he's done fucking waiting, waiting for his fate to fuck things over, if things are going to be fucked, he'll be the one to do it. 

...

Mattheo puts on a black shirt and black pants, not caring to tuck his shirt in, the cold metal ring stings him as he puts it on, the feeling is grounding, he's doing something his dad would've done and for some reason that doesn't feel half as bad, he feels like himself, it was like something had possessed him, the confidence was unwavering, even as he stepped out into the crowded hallway, hands in his pockets, looking ahead, people parted, giving him space and Merlin, did that feel fucking powerful. He rolled his sleeves up to his elbows as he approached the room you'd be in, you always were there on the weekends, with your friends and he didn't think before he stepped into the room, heads turning towards him in shock, even yours but the shock on your face was soon replaced with a smile, quietly waving at him and that right there, fed right into his ego.

He walked over to you in a few quick strides, eyes zeroed in on you, nothing else mattered at that moment, "Can I talk to you?" To say you were surprised would be an understatement, you were ecstatic, you've wanted this for so long, to talk to him in front of others, you never knew if you should because he might've felt uncomfortable, "Yes ofcourse, what is it?" you nod, a smile still on your face, "Alone," his voice was cold, "oh yeah, sure-" you step towards him, thinking he'd lead you somewhere private but he stayed rooted in his place, eyes never leaving yours, he stayed quiet for a bit, taking in your whole self, the bright clothes you were dressed in, the equally bright smile on your face. Then he looked over your head, to the shocked faces of your friends, "Alone." It came out as an order, he couldn't care less. 

Mattheo liked this newfound authority, he also relished in the fact that you were being so compliant as if you wanted this to happen and he couldn't be more glad, "Guys, I'll be back, you can go ahead, don't worry," you explained, seeing their hesitance, his unwavering gaze was back on you, brown eyes were intense. The apprehensive group slowly emptied the room and just went the last person was out, Mattheo muttered something under his breath, and the door slammed shut, locking itself. 

Mattheo cursed that pretty smile of yours before smiling back, "You have a date? For the ball?" you lowered your eyes to the ground at the question, a shy look grazing your features as you shook your head, the more he looked at you, the more positive he got. "Good."  He finally pulled his hands out of his pocket and suddenly there was a bouquet of your favourite flowers in his hand and a velvet box, he wordlessly handed them to you, your eyes were wide, full of amusement, face warm, you noticed how the lights around you got dimmer, the small mock firefly charms that floated in the air, you didn't have a clue on how he was doing all this without his wand but you couldn't bring yourself to think of it, not when you had him standing in front you, in all his glory, about to ask you to the ball, gosh you felt like you were on cloud nine, the guy you were waiting for had actually approached you? You had to be dreaming. 

Then out of nowhere, you hear your favourite song but on strings, you look down at the box curiously- "It's the muggle chocolate you were talking about, the one you said was hard to get your hands on," he shrugged nonchalantly, as if it was no big deal but in reality, he was finding the courage to finally tell you what he was feeling, ask you out. Your brows pinched together, as you noticed that all of it was a muggle, even the flower arrangement- the song, how did he do all of this? You looked up at him with an amused look. "No questions please," he breathed out like he was out of breath, you then smiled at him gratefully, and he quickly averted his eyes, his hand subconsciously reaching over to his chest, "Oh Merlin," he exhaled quietly, not being able to look back at you. 

He then slowly gathered the courage to look back at you, you were just looking at him patiently, the smile still on your face, Mattheo cleared his throat before opening up, "I have never been the one to be graceful but I want to do this properly." he inhaled sharply before continuing, "Ever since that night, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you, I think I've gone mad honestly," He lets out a dry chuckle shaking his head, looking into your eyes, "I think I've taken a liking to you, your voice, your smile-" and then he interrupts himself, forgetting the little speech he prepared as he watches your smile widen at his words, "yeah that, more of that please," and that makes you blush, the genuine interest in his eyes, the way admiration shines in his eyes, you are so close to him, that you can hear his heart thumping loudly, "I'd like to have the honour of taking you to the ball," then he says your name quietly, "would you like be my date?" 

"Yes yes!" you couldn't be more excited, you are quick to throw your arms around him, and all the worries leave his body as soon as he is subjected to your embrace, he closes his eyes, pulling you closer, finding everything comfortable in your grip. His heartstrings thrum at the moment, it was embarrassing how quickly you got him flustered but he didn't seem to mind it. He whispered a small "thank you," before hugging you tighter, you just giggled into his chest and Merlin, did he feel like he had just won the lottery.

...

<<prev work: this love || mattheo riddle

[starsexplodeatnight]

Tf141 guys x Reader

Okay, Sooooo

I don’t know what this is per say, just

John Price x Florist!reader

Kyle Garrick x Dog-walker!reader

John Mactavish x Nurse!reader

Simon Riley x Preschool-teacher!reader

Price first!!!

This old dog is not having a good day. The first time you two meet? He’s looking to order a sympathy piece… a fallen solider. So, he’s not in the best mood when he enters your shop.

Then, you come out the back with your sweet smile. It feels like lip balm on chapped lips, soothing the cracks splintering his heart in this moment.

“Hi, I’m *Name*. Welcome, how can I help you?” With a soft look on your face.

Fuck him, he needs the kindness. You’re so understanding when he tells you, not overly patronizing just… kind. Understanding. You’d have to be, having to make arrangements and funeral pieces as much as you do.

While you’re quickly piecing the arrangement together you talk to him, just a natural flow of conversation. He does pause when you ask. “What do you want in the arrangement? What would you like it to look like?” “Sympathetic?” And you laugh. “Fair enough.”

He likes that laugh.

You hand him the arrangement and tell him how to take care of the flowers to make them last longer. Then give him this sweet, sweet encouraging smile…

Yeah, he comes back a week later. Up front asks: “You want to get dinner Love?” Makes you flush, your co-workers in the back giggling until you shoo them away. “That sounds lovely.”

‘Love really does bloom, doesn’t it?’ He muses.

Generally? Your life together is sweet.

You’re together for about a year before he proposed. He’s a man, he’s old enough to know what he wants. He wants to wake up with you ever morning with the safety of that ring around your finger. That, if anything ever happens to him? He could still provide even in his absence…

You hate it when he talks like that but, accept that you need to be realistic… deep down? It makes you feel loved. A painful, sorrowful, love.

He helps you when he can. Whenever he’s home? He’s at your shop helping you get any extra work done so you can spend as much time together as you can while he’s not deployed.

You need help assembling an arbor for a wedding? He uh- he has carpentry skills… let him help, love. He builds you the sturdiest arbor in the industry!

Deliveries? He’ll run those, he’s got time. He doesn’t mind. Warms his heart a bit to do some good delivering flowers to people… they get so happy when he shows up with flowers.

He helps you set up the flowers at weddings! He also refuses to do anything that puts him within the vicinity of the bride and her party! They mistook him as a stripper once, never again. Never again. He’s a happily married man, thank you very much!

What kind of male stripper wears a hat like his any way? Wrangler jeans and a L.L Bean shirt that’s probably older than the bride!!! It was actually very cute to see how steamed he was after that…

You make sure to give HIM flowers. Most men don’t get flowers until their funeral … You don’t want that to be John. He melts a little when you bring himself home flowers you arranged yourself just for him.

You’ve looked up and seen him leaning on the table with a rose between his teeth. As soon as you made eye contact, he wiggles his brows. It made you crack up, he did it just for that reason. A rare moment of silliness from your John.

Will judge other brides choices when you bring home the files for the weddings you’re hired for. But, nothing will ever compare to your wedding to him in his eyes because your wedding was the best. Ever.

He saved your bouquet, dried it and framed it. Gave it to you as an anniversary present.

He then played your wedding song and you two slow danced in a circle together…. Sigh…

Gaz!:

Kyle was on his morning run when he saw you. Across the street with a few dogs, you looked so fucking happy, that made you look so fucking pretty.

You’re wearing an over sized t-shirt, sweatpants and look frazzled as you wrangle 4 dogs at once. You don’t even notice the Adonis across the street as you try and regain steady footing as the dogs all do their best to keep you on your toes.

Brock the 3 year old yellow lab was a puller… and he is CHONKY so you didn’t have much time to pay attention to anything else.

Kyle now tries to ‘bump’ into you. Timing his run to make a meet cute happen. Fuck him if he’s already done his run and doesn’t see you only to spot you once he’s on his door step sweaty and gross! EVERY TIME!

He’ll try and go again even though his legs are burning. This? This stunt catches the dogs attention, not yours. You’ve got 5 today and they HAUL ASS to go see Kyle. And you’re just dragged to his feet.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry! They’re all friendly, I swear!” You wheeze, Kyle laughs. “Don’t worry Luv! S���fine. It’s cute,” He’s not looking at the dogs, despite the Jack Russell ‘Shermie’ making eyes at him.

Ah ha! Kyle has ingratiated himself! He get’s so pumped as soon as he gets home! You invited him to walk with you! ‘Anytime!’ Fuck yeah! He does a fist pump and dances foot to foot.

He finds dogs are a good judge of character and, these dogs? They love you. And you are devoted to them despite them not being yours. He finds those qualities incredibly attractive.

Generally? You two are cute.

He’ll take the high energy dogs on jogs for you when you meet up. He can keep up with them! *subtle flex*

He despite his athleticism? He likes the small, slow dogs. Like the blind, cross eyed Shi tzu ’Louie’ and the grumpy old Bassett ‘Geraldine’

It gave him ample time to walk leisurely and talk to you… You, Gaz and Geraldine went on many walks together.

He love, love, loves whenever you send him a selfie of you and one of the dogs! He’s got a whole folder of them and the newest picture you send? That one is always his newest Lock Screen.

Has worn a dog papoose and, has carried a dog while wearing a dog papoose. He is not ashamed, you thought he looked cute. And he takes all compliments of any kind. Hell yeah he looks cute, thanks baby!

He loves those prissy little toys. ‘Teddy’ the Pomeranian is one of his favorites, Teddy just loves being held. Oh, Kyle looks so attractive holding that spoiled little poof… he’s so sweet and caring with it too. Fuck!

He holds you if one of your regulars dies. Losing an animal is hard, especially when you’d been walking that dog since it was a puppy… he’s here luv, it’s okay. His eyes are misty too because, he cared for that dog too.

He get’s a Bassett stuffed animal, ‘R.I.P Geraldine, you helped me find something worthwhile.’

He proposes to you that night.

You have a little Bassett hound topper on your cake as a small tribute to the dog that helped you get closer…

He will and HAS gotten between you and an aggressive dog. He doesn’t like hurting animals but, fuck if he was going to left anyone hurt his baby and her charges! Tries to beat the piss out of the owner.

His wedding gift to you? A dog. Not just any dog! He wanted to get you one that will keep you safe while he’s deployed and one that will help you handle your charges. So he get’s you a very highly trained Belgian malinois.

Her name is Gracie and she helps you both sleep better at night…

Soap!:

Oh, oh Soap. He get’s lambasted during a mission and gets put into hospital. His nurse? An over tired, over worked, grumpy woman who will not put up with Tom-fuckery during her shift.

In rolls in Soap: a battered pile of tenderized meat who immediately attempts a pick up line while she’s trying to make him comfortable. Oh, it’s going to be a long recovery.

Every goddamn shift! He’d light up every single fucking time you walk into the room! Oh, it makes you want to smother him with a pillow -cute aggression-

It’s not fair! You wanted to hate him! Be the grumpy bitch nurse and go on with your day! But, he makes it hard!!!

He seems so genuinely interested and not some creepy perv hitting on a nurse! He asks you how you are in such a genuine way, he leans in to listen, retains information! He does try and rile you up but, only because he thinks your ‘angry face’ is ‘cute’ the bastard! Who gave him the right to call you cute!?

And he loves, despite how angry you present yourself. You are the gentlest nurse, you care, you’re still a good nurse despite trying to act as jaded as the older nurses. You remember he does like certain foods, you get blood on the first draw and you always know what he needs…

God, it’s tumbling down the slippery slope faster than you ever imagined. You weren’t supposed to catch feelings! That’s not allowed!!! But when he’s finally discharged? He finds you, and offers to walk you home instead of going with his friends to celebrate his discharge.

He knew how much it meant to you for him to acknowledge what you’ve done for him… even behind the tough wall you put up.

He’ll always remember you stayed far past your shift to watch him when he spiked a fever and was critical…

You two are sour and sweet.

He rips those jaded glasses off your face and gives you a big kiss.

You’re kinda just- not codependent! but, something on the healthier side of that. You have a comfortable rhythm. He’ll go out with friends at night, stalling until you come off your shift and he can pick you up.

He gets to spend time with friends, you get to walk home knowing you’re safe at 2 in the morning… even if you have to steady him on the way home after one too many pints.

He has bought a sexy nurse costume for you. He mainly wants you to wear it, he has worn it as well…

He loves your stories! You have the best stories! He’ll sit you on the bar so you can regale his mates that story of that guy! “You know- that guy! The one that got that thing stuck up his ass!” “Which one?”

Sometimes you just, put your hand over his eyes. He looks at you with such fucking love it’s ridiculous. He just pushes further into your hand when you do this.

He will lie down and offer to be your dummy if you need a refresher on anatomy. Wiggles his eyebrows for emphasis.

It’s a personal victory whenever he makes you laugh.

He is lord and savior to the children in the hospital. He will come to visit the children’s care unit, full gear. You find him, and he is their god. They cling to his arms and legs, he’s still moving around, strong enough to keep on going even with 7 kids clinging to him.

He will use his little minions to his own personal advantage. Make them give you, like drawings and paper flowers just to see you smile. And for his own amusement.

It’s like Syd the Sloth and the tiny sloths.

He tells you he can’t wait until you have your own… you never imagined you’d actually ever get baby fever after working as a nurse again… Johnny makes that happen.

He makes you cry when he’s deployed. Wipes your tears away with his thumbs. “Oh, lass. Don’t cry! I ‘Ken you can put me back together if I come back in pieces.” He tries to joke, only makes you cry harder…

He holds you a little tighter after that one.

He never wants you to have to put you through that, ever. He cringes every time he remembers he said that… that he thought it was okay to joke about putting you through that.

Marries you after he comes home from deployment. He comes back in better shape this time too. He’s got to be careful now, doesn’t he?

Ghost:

This man? This man falls for a preschool teacher.

He’s just sitting in the park, minding his own business when he see’s you pass with your little class walking behind you like ducklings. Fuck, when was the last time he’d seen someone so pure?

Your preschool was just on the edge of the park and you, with a few other handlers, were letting the kids explore the park under supervision. Their ‘task’ is to find the ‘fauna’ of the park!

Imagine his surprise when more than 4 of the little crotch goblins run up to him specifically. He thought he was scary to the little kids, well apparently not! You rush over to his rescue when you see them using him as a piece of playground equipment.

Oh, he looked so confused. Frozen like a deer in headlights as you stifle your giggle, peeling the 4 year old girl off his lap. “I’m so sorry!” “No, s’fine… cheeky buggers.” The kids all giggle, eager to play with him again.

Ghost then adds it into his schedule to mosey past your school every afternoon. You always know when he does because it’s always at recess and all the kids (except a few) flock to the fence to say hello to ‘Mr Ghost.’

He feels like a celebrity… softens his prickly heart to see all these sweet kids admire him… he thinks so poorly of himself, then he looks at these kids and you? You all look at him with such adoration…. Makes him feel like a human being again instead of a war machine.

And you look at him with such love. You find it sweet he takes his time to come see the kids, graciously accepting their pictures they drew of him.

He was kind of awkward at first, he’d stood ramrod straight like he would with his old drill sergeant and informed you of his record. He wasn’t a creep, he was in the military, and this was his little… respite from all the bile he had to face.

You couldn’t turn him away. You welcomed him every time you saw him over the fence. He remained behind the boundary of the fence and was . He was very grateful you didn’t think he was a creep and trespassed him from walking by.

You two were blissful.

You asked him out on a date. He asked you how many children you wanted… so sweet. lol

He finds you absolutely beautiful, bouncing one of your students on your hip whenever he stops by. He can’t help it. He can’t wait until you have kids of your own, you’ll teach them to be such wonderful human beings. He’ll teach them how to defend themselves and he’ll keep you all safe.

He becomes a bit of a helper around the preschool whenever he’s not deployed. He’s certified in cpr- why not? He mostly just watches the class room to see if any kid is doing anything wrong and preventing anyone from choking.

Kids take turns sitting in his lap whenever he’s sitting. He acts like he doesn’t care but you know he adores it.

Little girls will bring him stuffed animals and by the time class ends he’s surrounded by every stuffed animal in class. He remembers all of their names too. Oh, you can’t help it you get cute aggression with him!

Will walk around with your lipstick prints all over his balaclava. He will dodge envy attempt to wipe them off. They’re his!

After a long day, he’ll help you clean up the class room. In his mind he’s playing this scenario out, like you two are cleaning up after your own kids.

Hates the moms. He hates every single one of of the moms. They’re annoying. They’re coming after his fine ass because they didn’t find a man that treat them right, like he does you and he’s not putting up with it!

Asks you to give him hickeys once. ‘‘But love, yes.’’ After you tell him ‘‘no!’’ “We work in a preschool!” “And? They bite each otha’ all the time.” “Simon!”

He is their god, part 2.

They laugh at all of his stupid jokes, which in turn makes you laugh and now he’s a smug bastard.

Vibes with Bluey, you two watch it together. Aims to be like Bandit when he’s a dad. Takes it as a compliment when you tell him. “You’re pretty much a dead ringer for him already love.” Like, stunned for a second before he’s kissing your temple.

He hates deploying now.

All the kids cry when he does, it’s awful. Then, it makes you cry too. You were trying so hard to be strong and now you’re crying along with them.

Makes him feel like a worse monster than he thought he was.

Tada! Idk what this was! But there ya’ go! Enjoy!

[lavendermin]

jing yuan is definitely the type of man to take your hand and kiss your fingers one by one WHILE keeping eye contact (literally STARING, waiting for u to break, become flustered and look away), and when you do, he would say smth along the lines of "look at me" / "is something wrong? why did you look away?" with that shitty grin of his

We’re dealing with a whole general in charge of the Luofu. That man is trained in the art of finding weaknesses to use to his advantage and effortlessly play off them. This partially translates into Jing Yuan’s methods for expressing love as well.

And he wouldn’t call these aspects your weaknesses per se. No, he would never degrade you like that. But he knows what makes you tick, what makes you short circuit, what buttons to push and when. Jing Yuan is well versed in the little things that draw out his favorite reactions from you. Something akin to cuteness aggression some might call it. His fondness for you is just that great. And your relationship is one that is lighthearted and filled with playful banter.

cw | suggestive, fem reader

He knows how to make your heart leap. Takes you to some secluded gardens past the hustle and bustle of the main city areas, away from prying eyes. He’s someone who prefers to love you in private, wanting to bare his soul to you and you only. The light breeze brings a beautiful rain of delicate petals from the plum blossom trees in the vicinity. With his tall stature he picks a low hanging flower from the tree without much effort, delicately placing it in your hair as he continues the pleasant conversation without missing a beat. It’s something that makes you momentarily fall out of step, caught a little off guard with the gesture. Your pulse quickens and the smile he wanted to see finally beams on your face, albeit shyly.

He knows what little things to do that get you looking at him with that lovesick gaze. During brief breaks between meetings he’ll bring you to the gardens in his estate, a blanket sprawled out for a quick afternoon snack to enjoy in good company. Some are favorites, other little additions are new and some just readily in season or imported. Jing Yuan always wordlessly insists on hand feeding you himself. Loves the flustered look in your eyes as he puts a slice of fruit to your lips, slowly parting them and glossing them with the nectar that drips from the treat. A sigh of contentment leaves you and he can’t help but smile fondly, leaning in to quickly place a peck on your lips.

Your eyes twinkle, heart full with the notion that he imported one of your favorite delicacies from a neighboring star system—and with such a limited season they are available in. He licks his lips, the sweetness from the kiss he stole lingering in his mouth with the taste of you. An ideal afternoon he wishes could be longer than thirty minutes before he’s off again. Might as well spend them with you.

He pulls you onto his chest as he lays back on the picnic blanket, eliciting a squeak of surprise from you.

“Just for fifteen minutes, let’s stay like this,” he whispers, pulling you down to press his lips to your forehead. It’s an intimacy that simmers and leaves your hearts full longer.

And with a smile you can’t help how love-struck you look at him, so prettily under you. Something that he mirrors equally as you both settle into the tranquil moment.

He’s especially good at teasing—knows what little habits you have and how to exploit them for his amusement (in good fun). And there are a lot of little habits that come with your shy demeanor.

You bite into the flesh of a peach, the juices running down your hands. He’s quick to seize an opportunity to take your hand, kissing each of your glistening fingers slowly—hungry gaze steadily holding yours. The action has you holding your breath without even realizing it. It warms your face with the intimacy of his soft lips pressing to the pads of your fingers—a heat quickly surging through your body like a wildfire. And you can’t move even if you wanted to (you don’t), his grasp firm on your wrist.

It’s almost like a little game of endurance. You’ve never felt more like a doe in a lion’s den than in these kinds of moments. His lips move to press to the second finger, the third finger…

“Eyes on me, little dove,” he mutters, voice an octave lower than usual. Commanding. The smirk on his lips reveals the mischief in his intention. “Don’t look away. Not for a second.”

Your eyes that had desperately tried to dart anywhere else are immediately back on him. Almost involuntarily. You can’t help but worry your lip to try and suppress any little gasps and whimpers that may threaten to leave you.

“That’s my sweet girl.”

He kisses the fourth, a subtle tremble on your own hand he can just barely feel. The glimmer in his honey eye tells you he wants to play with to his dinner today. You can only pray your weak heart can withstand what teasing he has in store for you as he slowly drags his tongue up your index finger. His mouth chases the sweetness of the fruit as it coats your hand, your eyes following the wet muscle with an involuntary whimper and shift of your thighs when he licks sensually between your index and middle finger.

And just like that he places a kiss to your palm and leaves you hot and bothered. Trembling and breathing a little uneven with a want settling deep in the pit of your belly.

“Were you hoping for something more?” Jing Yuan asks with that mischievous, innocent-looking smile he wears. His thumb swipes at the corner of his lips to catch remnants of the sweetness he stole from your delicate hands.

Sly goddam fox.

[mrsrookhunt]

hi, hi! could I ask for pt 2 of the twst "what to expect when your lab experiment drinks formula," I just thought it was rlly cute!☺ you can do any sort of characters, I don't mind!

What to Expect When your Lab Experiment Drinks Formula Pt. 2

Hihi! Actually, I wrote that scenario for all the characters in twst I'm writing for right now (I'm new to the fandom), so I've gone ahead and made this into a followup on how they're doing as parents, hope you don't mind! Thanks the ask!

Warnings: Mild Chap 7 spoiler (Lilia), Rook & Floyd want so many kids your house is going to look like the 100 baby sims challenge.

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Part one! Rook Hunt! Part Two (here), Part Three!

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Malleus Draconia

Malleus is running wild with the new heir. As much as he loves you, so much of his time is occupied by playing with his baby that you don't even see him around as often as you used to.

Your new baby is named Ormr, an ancient name directly meaning 'dragon'. Malleus pouted for a bit that it didn't start with 'Mal' but you assured him that it could be a great fresh start before the Draconia family ran out of names.

While you were still a bit disoriented by the strange circumstances, you were adjusting just fine to being a parent. Your little one kept you on your toes, breathing fire onto your homework when you weren't giving them enough attention and flying away with your food when Malleus taught them how to fly short distances.

Get out the broom. There's a dragon baby with a pb&j on the ceiling.

Malleus' love of your child surprised you a bit. Though you had known that he had technically set up the entire creation of the child, you never expected for Malleus to take so strongly to the little dragon fae.

To be fair, the entirety of Briar Valley seemed to rejoice at the news of your little one, so you supposed that your child was more important than it would be to a normal family. This was the continuation of his bloodline, without posing any risk of losing you, his favorite Child of man.

It was perfect, a blissful life together.

Malleus is constantly supportive of you and works hard to be both a father and a partner. He never fails to make your family feel loved and connected, even in trying times.

Rook Hunt

Rook's baby is... Rook's baby.

The little creature is mischievous, even for its young age.

It may not be able to crawl, but provided anything of importance is in its general vicinity, it will be swiped, hidden, or destroyed with an innocent giggle.

Rook manages the child much better than you. Although you love your child to death, they seem to have inherited Rook's predatory mind in their entirety, and it makes Rook far more equipped to handle the baby's demeanor.

When you look away, you'll most certainly be hit with the first thing in reach of your little one. You blame Rook for this, who reveled in showing them documentaries on hunting through the ages from birth.

Soon, it's more complex weapons. Sharp rocks from your trip outside to play have somehow become entrapped in a very deliberately tangled slinky and thrown at the back of your head.

You know it's all in good fun between Rook & your little one, but your baby will be as skilled a hunter as Rook someday. He was not wrong to call your child his little hunter from the moment it fell into your arms.

Rook wants a large family, so you'd better be prepared for lots of little predators running around the house. Good luck trying to keep them from attempting to murder each other.

Extra: Rook is the type to remember that recipe to a tee. If you so much as mention having another child, ten more are going to show up the next day. Honestly he's waiting for you to slip up and mention it. He's absolutely in love with your family, and would be overjoyed to expand it. Best of luck to you.

Floyd Leech

As soon as you were asleep that night, little child snug in a makeshift bassinet next to you, Floyd was already sneaking out to create more children.

You woke up to six more on the bed with you, one of which woke you up directly by biting you for attention.

Overall you've had much trouble managing all the little literal ankle biters. If it weren't for the liberal help from Jade, Grim and Ace, you would not be able to manage all seven.

However, this does not stop you from loving them entirely. The babies love you to death, and you're extremely bonded to them as well. When you and Floyd fight, there's suddenly seven growling creatures lined up behind you, at the ready to attack.

Despite being 110% like Floyd, they are very certain in their favoritism. Two of your children refuse to have him nearby at all.

He claims it breaks his heart, but you catch him praising your little ones with frozen grapes and soda to reinforce their bond with you.

Definitely not what a baby should be fed but when you said they couldn't eat seafood he switched gears to 'land food', and would take no further criticisms.

The best times are cuddle nights. Twice a week, all of you cuddle up in your Ramshackle dorm room and cozy up to a movie and snacks. This continues until well into their childhoods let's be honest. It becomes a Leech family tradition.

Sebek Zigvolt

"Human! Get it! GET IT!!!"

Your baby is very adventurous.... or something close to it.

Always tumbling off furniture and rolling off changing tables, or falling down for some reason or other.

You can have ten sets of eyes on this child and it does not matter, this baby will stubbornly look into your eyes and throw itself off the couch.

There's so much chaos, constantly, when it comes to little baby Zigvolt.

Sebek's excellent training is the only reason that your child has not been hospitalized for concussions.

But his excellent training has not saved him from the baby's love of biting their father. So, so many times. Every time Sebek catches it.

Chomp.

Every time he bathes it.

Chomp.

Everytime he changes a diaper.

Chomp.

Sebek is covered in tiny little baby bites.

But oh, how your baby adores you. In between bouts of defiance and finger-snacking moods, your baby loves to lie in your arms and cuddle.

It's arguably the most comfortable time you get with Sebek and your baby.

And I do mean arguably, because Sebek swears up and down that the baby is happiest in the presence of Malleus, and it's a hill he's willing to die on. But you know he really just wants an excuse to show off your baby to Silver.

Silver is not impressed.

Your baby is the very definition of a headache to Sebek. They cry everytime they see Malleus, they hate any sort of regimen, they love to play and play and... play more. All day long. No work or training to be seen here, baby Zigvolt will NOT be having it unless you want 4 hours of ear-splitting tantrums. And the baby still won't do the work when they're done.

But still, you see Sebek in every aspect of your baby. The strength, the way your child loves you unconditionally, but treats everyone else cautiously, and overall, the refusal to do anything that doesn't align with their little baby whims.

You've lovingly termed your baby 'Stubborn Ziggy the Second'. Sebek is not a fan, but he allowed it after you let go of 'Swamp dog & Swamp puppy'.

Lilia Vanrouge

screaming.

And more screaming.

It is not the baby. It is you trying to find the baby.

"OH MY GOD I LOST IT, I LOST OUR BABY OH MY GOD---"

And then--

"Weh!" The baby pops its head out of a cabinet with its hands up the way Lilia does to scare them.

The baby giggles and coos at its own joke, making grabby hands while it waits for you to come get it.

You're just dumbfounded. You're going to have to scold Lilia, because now your little one is picking up on yet another one of his pranks.

Your baby is a lot like you, with one exception-- your baby is so playful and teasing that it honestly gives The Great Lilia Himself a run for his money.

Last week, you were frantically searching for an expensive piece of jewelry, when it dropped down on your head from the spot where little baby Vanrouge was apparently levitating it from.

Oh yes, your child's magic is coming in strong. Though Lilia's is fading, you tease that perhaps the little one is just absorbing it from him outright, showing him videos of your child's most recent magical displays of strength.

Your family bonds through jokes and playful faces, entirely. Lilia is probably a candidate for The Worst Parent on Earth, so you do most of the housework. It's not like Lilia's never offered, it's that you promised Silver not to let Lilia traumatize his little sibling. All of your best moments are spent by making space in your schedule for your family time.

Lil Vanrouge needs all your love, and Lilia Vanrouge does too. It's a fine balance between upsetting either of them, though dealing with hours of screaming and petty annoyance is not a hard decision.

Just make sure both are getting enough cuddles, and maybe don't judge growing-up lil Vanrouge when they decide they love gaming...

Azul Ashengrotto

Don't forget about Azul, please.

Your baby has the chubbiest cheeks and the cutest smile, but is it as cute as Azul? Cuter, probably. But don't tell him that.

Azul loves your child with all his heart, but he's a bit miffed that it requires so much of your love and attention.

You and baby Ashengrotto are very bonded, so it's rare to see you apart for a moment. And in that moment... Azul is putting on Full-Drama Mode. Cuddles, cuddles. More cuddles. Give him a kiss. Could you please take a bath with him? He's just so tired, he doesn't think he can take a bath by himself. Would you mind giving him a massage? You're too tired? That's ok, you scratch his back and he'll scratch yours. He's not too tired after all. He'll give you a massage.

Your little one is so much like their father, wanting all the attention and love in the world, but getting the priority treatment. Little baby Ashengrotto is Octavinelle's favorite thing ever. Everyone just wants to love on them and see their cuteness.

Azul was going to charge people to see them until you put your foot down and said no.

Azul knows how precious his child is. Secretly, he does want another. Two, just for a healthy statistical number's sake. But he won't tell you that. He's trying to come to terms with the shift in attention with one tiny octomer right now, maybe waiting a couple of years would be more optimal. He will never admit that he's jealous of your child, but claims that he's 'working through his issues when you bring it up.

But Azul will always prioritize his baby as well, even if unintentionally. In the end, the wellbeing of his family comes first and foremost.

And maybe showing off mini-mer to the Mostro lounge staff.

[ghoulishneeds]

✦ ° ✦Cooper (The Ghoul) Howard ✦ ° ✦

✦ NSFW Alphabet ✦

° I’m so sorry I want him so bad °

◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆

◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

I hate to break it to you but you’re not gonna get much out of him. Just really a general once over and he’s tucking himself back into his pants, and back on his feet.

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

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He’d be hard pressed to pick a favorite on himself. If he had to, his eyes. They’ve kept that, whiskey in sunlight color and he finds himself favoring that.

On his partner, anything particularly soft and fleshy. Tits, thighs, ass, stomach anything in that vicinity. He likes the way that skin feels under his rough hands.

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C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Has a thing for cumming buried in you. Dragging you back, flush against him, pressing his weight down on you. I wouldn’t call it a “breeding” kink more like an ownership thing.

He likes watching it drip back out of you.

But if he’s feeling particularly mean, he likes painting your face nice and messy. He likes the look of indignation you give him, gets off on making you mad.

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D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Sometimes likes taking on a more submissive role (very rarely)

He still needs control in some facet, but he’s not above teaching you how to tie a good knot, if you know what I mean.

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E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

The man’s been around for over 200 years, he knows what the fuck he’s doing. You’re in for a good ride.

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F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Cowgirl, but SPECIFICALLY when your arms are tied behind your back. He likes watching you struggle a bit to reach your own pleasure. Watching your tits bounce is an added bonus.

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G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Definitely serious, I’d even say threatening. However, definitely consistently makes his little quips and remarks through the entire encounter.

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H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Bro looks like a hard boiled egg.

Moving on.

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I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Almost no intimacy, eye contact is even a power move from him. If you want intimacy from him you’re reeeeeaaaalllyyyy gonna have to work for it

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J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

I gotta be honest, I feel like he’s not doin it that often. Like, when he does it’s 100% a tension/stress release and he moves on.

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K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

B O N D A G E. I guarantee 9 times out of 10 you will be tied up in some way.

I also think he’s into knife play, he likes to mark you up a little. Leave his mark permanently.

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L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He’s not picky. Anywhere, anytime. Doesn’t matter to him.

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M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

A good fight gets him going. He likes it when you get a little feisty and fight back, try to run. Anything that triggers the hunter instinct really does it for him.

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N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

I gotta be honest I’m coming up blank here. I don’t really think he’s above doing anything.

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O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Absolutely prefers receiving. Number one fan of skull fucking. Likes watching you drool around his cock while he pushes it down your throat.

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P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Very rough. Sets a fast, hard, punishing pace from the start and stays in it. You ache for DAYS after.

That’s fine though, he likes watching you wince when he fucks you the next time.

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Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

They’re frequent. You’re in the desert jumping from town to town. Any chance he gets, he takes.

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R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Nothing makes him nervous. He takes risks left and right. Big fan of semi public fucking. He likes watching you struggle to stay quiet.

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S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Decent stamina, lasts for a good amount of time. But let’s face it, mans is suffering from radiation poisoning, he probably needs a second after to catch his breath.

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T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

That’s a big ol nope.

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U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Oh he loves to tease. He’ll make little comments throughout the day. Says outright vulgar things. Grinds himself up against you every chance he gets.

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V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not particularly loud but runs his mouth the whole time. He says absolutely filthy things. Little grunts and curses.

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W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Secretly, desperately craves intimacy but would drop dead before asking for it.

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X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Thick and curved. Probably an average length. Probably looks the same as the rest of him. (Insert ribbed for her pleasure joke here)

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Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He’s probably got a high sex drive. When he wants it, he takes it. Ready to go just about whenever.

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Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

You’re not fully convinced he even sleeps. He’s careful to make sure you’re asleep before him, not wanting to let his guard down like that.

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[oleanderscorner]

Thick-skulled, thick-skinned.

Yan!Dr.Ratio x reader x Yan!Acheron

TW: Yandere content and all that comes with that (gore, violence, obsession, ect), biting, fighting and bickering between yans—viewer discretion is advised.

So these two seem like unlikely pairs right? But honestly I think they have the same time—the emotionally intelligent type!

Veritas gets to you first actually—he clocks you as a member of The Express and becomes intrigued as you’re calming down PomPom. It’s something that just barely catches his attention—honestly it would be but a footnote in his thousands of thoughts if it wasn’t for seeing you do so again with other people around this place…

All whilst making a fool of yourself.

See you may not know what you’re talking about in calming down say…a student of his from a bad exam grade that they aren’t used to—it’s clear from your approach that you don’t know the material but somehow you’re able to calm them down anyway so they can see where they went wrong themselves—at least partially so…

That’s when he realizes he has been watching your approach to people and finds it utterly fascinating and yet idiotic how you are.

Just as he does—you’re off to Penacony!

That’s where Acheron catches you…

See Acheron does not know how to open up their heart ever or again…and yet, in the same breath she cannot help but stare at your visage as if the warmth and gentle feel you have radiates off of you.

When she first catches why such a thing can come from your very image, she sees you navigating a conversation with a very upset looking girl—eventually leading to her calming down for a moment and becoming excited over something—likely a new toy or some sort of treat.

She can’t comprehend both how and why you did that—so she watches over you, then it becomes justifying continuing watching over you even when you think you’re alone or not interacting with others—after all she has to keep you safe and in case you do gain an interaction, and then she just never wants you to leave her sight just in case danger happens when she just isn’t there so she continues watching…until not even she realizes she is obsessed.

Too bad Ratio is just on her tail

—

You were making coffee in the little room you had confined yourself in for the day—of course you loved going out and enjoying the day within Golden Hour…but you needed a mental health day—your energy was getting the best of you.

See—it was getting harder to rest when it wasn’t entering this dream. Always feeling like eyes were upon you…even as you kept your eyes glued shut you just couldn’t seem to really sleep for very long. Sure you got an hour or two as finally your eyes being shut for so long forced your brain to let you sleep but it was hardly enough…

Perhaps that was simply what it was like here—honestly you were just surprised that you needed sleep in the first place with being in a dream most of your days. But at least the confines or a room in here were far better than that other room where your body decided to rest.

You had just taken a sip of this dreamy coffee when it felt like a jolt of your mind and soul had brought you out of water—and not just a pool either, like you were dragged from an ocean in but a split second.

You expected to see March or Himeko—maybe Welt even…but golden eyes stared back at you—you recognized this man, Dr.Ratio. He had once been but a figure of intimidation in your life as it seemed he found you as nothing more than a nuisance and perhaps even less—but slowly as he saw you more as a person and not as just a being in the situation, circumstance, and general vicinity he was in he had become somewhat your friend. He clearly needed someone to talk and rang to himself and you provided that—always such a good friend to help…even if sometimes he called you an idiot or an imbecile. He seemed hard-pressed about something and held your arm tight in his hand.

You would freak out, but your immediate reaction to do so had long been suppressed as you quickly assessed the situation. Something was wrong, and he was going to explain it whether or not you asked—so it was better to start making things calm now by getting the situation in order.

“Is anyone hurt? Is everything alright?”

His brow was furrowed as he made a “tsk” sound and quickly pulled you up as he walked you down the hall to explain. You were always too good at keeping calm even when someone was taking your body and dragging it off like it was nothing more than a pebble on a string.

“You haven’t been getting my messages, so I went to check up on you only to see a woman with a weapon exit your room before I could get down the hall. So, obviously for your safety, I’m seeing to it you are located elsewhere until the threat is found and neutralized.”

Panick set in as you listened to his words—he was straight forward and left no room for you to argue. But even still you tried.

“What about the others—“

A quick cut off like chalk hitting a blackboard—he was prepared for this question.

“They are being informed by others, worry not. I wouldn’t be so idiotic to leave them behind.”

You believed him as he continued to drag you out of the vicinity. All seemed well for a moment until a shade of purple whip close to you and you felt the driving force of someone else tug you back out of the man’s grip—the edge of a sword just barely in your view as most of your vision was blocked by a hand.

A familiar and yet unknown voice rang in your ear in an instant as arms held you tight…and yet so gently, like the chains of slumber as you barely wake up on a soft pillowy bed.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

—

Actually living with the two of them is quite a challenge.

After their initial fight, which you were carefully taken care of to be unconscious for, they came to an agreement to share you. So, they both had to move themselves and you to a secure living location.

You being so emotionally intelligent can be damaging as both can easily be turned against the other in this situation, so, to keep that from happening they have to convene once a week on what you told them, even if it was meant to be a secret.

Acheron is with you most of the day, honestly she’s silent but she will teach you self defense if you beg nicely enough. She will accompany you to perform daily tasks and be the one you confide in the most just as she latches to you for her own sanity. She’s far easier to talk to and handle as she will be less willing to tell Ratio everything so long as it doesn’t pose a danger to you or herself—and so long as you don’t ask to leave.

If you do she’s willing to let things slip to teach you a lesson.

However she could never herself physically harm you…

Until it’s late at night, when she’s holding your back to her chest and she’s having night terrors again. She needs something to remind her you’re there and you won’t leave her…

So she bites—hard enough to leave a mark for the morning and to leave a mark to trace her fingers over as a reminder that you’re there.

Just hopefully you don’t wake up screaming and wake Veritas.

Other than that she helps however she can—really, she’s a good cook so she tries to prepare dinner so Veritas isn’t the only one cooking and lunch is always prepared by her—although she does appreciate it if you do make a snack for the two of you to share during the day.

She also does most of the cleaning as she makes sure to guard and watch over you while doing so, really, she can’t have you being hurt by something accidentally breaking or getting sick from the abundance of cleaning chemicals to keep the place spotless, while surely making your bed and such is fine—why lift a finger when she can do it and make sure you aren’t hurt?

She will also take the really hard tests with you—just to make sure you don’t get a headache from everything…

Because goodness knows what would happen if you got hurt even a little…

Veritas on the other hand spends the most time with you in the morning and afternoon. Once he gets up you’re to get up with him and perform a light brain exercise of a standard Calculus I test while you have a nutritionally well-balanced breakfast that he has prepared. In fact, aside from lunch he prepares every meal—even if he doesn’t cook it himself.

He makes sure you read at least 2 books a day and write a summary on each and answer a series of vague questions that allow you to pick the books you read while also making sure you’re using your brain—after all, you can’t be stupid intellectually. He grades these in the afternoons over dinner, which has you doing some light Chemistry or Biology work.

Veritas may not be so easily softened, however he is desperate in his own way as he clings. He rambles on topics and if you get something wrong and come to him and let him explain it, even if he ends up calling you some amount of names you can see the glimmer in his eyes as he gets to talk about the subject. Although if you get too many wrong sometimes there is just a slight bit of extra annoyance.

He starts nearly every bickering fight with Archeron—especially if he doesn’t like her methods. Of course you should be cleaning those chemicals are safe—he can make an assignment about it and you should know how to work an oven and a stove without burning yourself, if not then that’s on you and not them.

He knows Acheron does the biting thing—and everytime he wakes up to it he dresses your wound and once you’re asleep he’ll bicker with her day and night over it. He doesn’t see it as good or ideal…but in the end he knows the arrangement is best. Afterall, he only was able to keep a stalemate due to his statues—and Archeron is a good guard when he’s away.

While they bicker often—it’s really not all that bad.

The times (other than some meals) you all do get together is bath time. You all take a bath together as Veritas insists on it—and honestly them taking care of you during this time of cleaning is just so relaxing…it’s probably the best time of the day. You let them ramble and rant while doing so as you whisper and encourage them and talk with them through the vents and tribulations of their day and such.

Although you’re starting to suspect they may also like eachother in this arrangement…and part of you is worried that if they work together more than this arrangement, they’ll be less inclined to consider your decisions on things when you already get so little…

Afterall darling, what’s two against one?

AN: A little OOC but I hope you all enjoyed!!! Truly an idea I’ve had for a bit now that I just needed to get into text. Lmk any requests!!

[kaorisun]

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 immortality is an abundant curse (1)

pairing : blade x reader

tags : angst, hurt no comfort, reincarnation, canon divergence

word count : 5.3k

chapters : one • two • three

crossposted to : AO3

Summary : Like most good things involving his past, Blade keeps them buried deep within, only allowing himself to reminisce in the privacy of his own mind.

or

Blade recalls the events that caused him to curse his immortality.

Blade smirks at the way the Cloud Knights beside him tremble as they escort him to face the General. His footsteps echo throughout the hall— the only thing he could hear in the silence of the Shackling Prison.

He can hear the General address his underling before he feels a gaze settle on him. Glancing up, he wears a fierce expression as he meets Jing Yuan’s eyes.

The General speaks, “Do you remember me?”

“I remember,” he states, the following words grained into his mind as if they were coded into his very being.

“Of five people, three must pay a price,” Blade starts, smirking at the way the two visibly tense.

“You are not one of them, Jing Yuan.”

Before the General’s young protégé has a chance to react, Blade breaks free from his shackles, the metal flying off his wrists with ease. The Cloud Knights react a moment too late, allowing him the window of opportunity he needs to act first and throw them back.

A watery sword flies past his face, but he merely leans to the side out of the way.

Despite the young swordsman’s skills, his lack of experience and the gap between them is apparent.

With a triumphant expression, he looks to Jing Yuan, anger filling his gaze.

“Goodbye, General. I have more important matters to attend to,” Blade states before disappearing within the shadows of the prison. He can hear Jing Yuan hurriedly command his men to chase after him, but he knows nothing will come of it.

As Destiny’s Slave predicted, they were woefully unprepared, he thinks to himself.

The moment he’s out of their vicinity, that once smug expression falls, returning to its usual stoic, empty state. In his times of solitude, he seems to wear this blank expression often. Without the fires of vengeance fueling his emotions, he becomes a husk of who he used to be.

For a moment, he glances back at the prison he fled from.

Jing Yuan.

While he’s certain he’d be able to pin some sort of blame on the man for his suffering, he refuses to do so. There’s various reasons, but one stands out in his mind as the most prominent.

After all, there was once a time that he trusted his most precious treasure to the man. And that treasure of his was rather fond of the General.

Blade feels a small sliver of warmth at the memory.

Of course, you’d never forgive him if he brought his wrath upon Jing Yuan. You easily angered when he bickered with the man, insisting that the two had to talk it out and make amends. With your peacemaking, he could never stay mad at the other for long.

Besides, he thinks, there are others more directly responsible.

Staring blankly ahead, he pushes the thought aside as he arrives at the designated rendezvous point, eyes gazing off into the distance as Kafka approaches him.

“It took you long enough, Bladie. Thought I’d have to go ahead and get myself arrested without you here,” Kafka chides lightheartedly, “Did the General start monologuing or did you keep me waiting on purpose?”

“I waited for the opportunity to escape, as the slave instructed me to do,” he responds curtly. Kafka looks at him with a small smile.

“Still with that? Elio prefers being called by name, Blade,” she teases. Blade ignores her comment, focusing instead on the way his “name” sounds as she speaks.

“Blade” is but another thing borrowed from others to keep himself afloat. From the clothes on his back to this new name of his, it seems like everything holding him up is borrowed. Even long before he acquired said name, everything he owned was not his.

At least, almost everything. Though, it fills him with bitterness as ghosts of the past enter his head, lingering and meddling in his conscious mind.

Aside from his true name, you were his, were you not? Of course, he’d given you his heart and received yours in return, but that relationship was something that unequivocally belonged to him. It was not something gifted to him, nor was it something lent to him by a bosom friend.

What he had with you was something only the pair of you could understand or claim ownership over. A connection unlike any other— had he been more of an optimist, he’d have called you his soulmate.

Or, rather, if you were still around, perhaps the word “soulmate” wouldn’t drip off his tongue like venom.

Alas, aside from his past relationship, he, too, has his true name. Ren, a name that also belonged to him. Despite that, he prefers to continue on as “Blade” or “the unnamed.”

The name only served as a constant reminder of what is absent, however, so he no longer uses it. Just as he’s grown to no longer recognize the reflection staring back at him in the mirror, the name “Ren” seems less like his own and instead that of a stranger.

Without you there to say his name in the voice he’d once adored, his name became nothing but an untouched fragment of his past.

Alongside his memories of you, he refuses to allow his real name to be tainted by the vengeance, anger, and bitterness that fuels him today.

Like most good things involving his past, Blade keeps them buried deep within, only allowing himself to reminisce in the privacy of his own mind.

“…en! Ren!” a familiar voice calls out to him. Blade cracks open his eyes, finding that he is no longer his Stellaron Hunter self, but Ren.

He remembers this, unable to stop himself from smiling as he sees you fast approaching, a wide, loving smile on your face as your eyes meet. Ren doesn’t need to look around to know that he’s in a memory of his past— much preferring to enjoy this moment.

“You’re back early! Jing Yuan said you’d be out until sundown,” you chime, stopping in front of him. Glancing behind you, Ren spots the General, who offers a casual wave. Chuckling, he looks down at you.

“I finished my duties earlier than expected, so I returned early. What have you been up to? Causing the General trouble?” he asks teasingly, You hit him gently on the arm— a touch not meant to hurt— one that he misses dearly— before smiling.

“He’s causing me trouble, Ren. I’ve been trying to gather herbs and work, but he’s been bothering me incessantly! He seems to only live up to the title of ‘Dozing General’ when it suits him!” you outwardly complain. Ren has to hold back laughter lest he further provoke your ire, so he distracts himself by looking back at Jing Yuan with a quizzical expression.

“I was only telling this one that they work too hard... they could afford to learn a thing or two from my reputation. Ren, why do you allow them to continue overworking like this?” Jing Yuan questions, a docile smile on his face as he approaches, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“It’s because Ren gets injured all the time! He lets me work hard because he likes being pampered,” you retort, glancing over at him with a teasing smile. Ren narrows his eyes.

“I do not enjoy being pampered, as you so claim. You’re merely skilled at healing, so naturally, I’ll come to you for aid,” Ren responds simply. You raise a brow at him before your eyes wander to his arm, gasping.

“Hey! Why didn’t you say you were injured? Come on— I’m patching this up now! See, General? This is precisely why I had to find those medicinal herbs today!” You insist, dragging him off so you can properly tend to his wounds.

While you gather your needed supplies, Ren engages in a game of chess with the other man, using his good arm as you take hold of his injured one with a careful gentleness.

“Ren. Are you that unskilled of a swordsman, or are you doing this on purpose?” Jing Yuan inquires as he observes the board. Ren clicks his tongue.

“Neither. Even our enemies are able to strike me from time to time. I’m not immune to getting injured,” he says, wincing a bit as you disinfect his wound. The other man laughs.

“You also aren’t immortal, Ren. You and this restless lover of yours have short lives. You shouldn’t be so careless,” Jing Yuan scolds, overtaking him and winning their match with ease as if to punctuate his point. You laugh.

“Please, I keep forgetting you’re an old man. You know, I’m not exactly young either. Besides, there’s no such thing as true immortality. There never will be, so don’t be so silly, General. None of us are immortal, and I’m certain none of us take our lives for granted,” you speak gently. Ren glances at you, smiling.

“If we’re truly talking about someone considerably old, then shouldn’t we be talking about—” Ren is cut off by another voice.

“How many times must I mention this? I am not that old.” Imbibitor Lunae approaches with a terse expression. Ren opens his mouth to offer a greeting, but is interrupted once more.

“Injured again? You are lucky your lover is an adept healer, though you should be more careful,” the dragon says before seating himself at the table.

“That’s what I keep saying, but he never listens!” you insist, wrapping bandages around his injury before sighing, “Ren, you’re lucky I love you enough to do this for you.”

“Oh? Does that mean you’re allowing me to make a habit of this?” Ren asks.

“Absolutely not!” you retaliate.

The group bursts into laughter, even Lunae happens to be holding back a faint smile at your annoyance towards Ren’s carelessness.

Ren can’t hold back his own fond expression as he looks around the table— happy to be surrounded by those he cherished, by the people he loved.

Then, his smile falls as his eyes settle on you once more, and he has to remind himself that this is but a memory.

A phantom of what used to be.

No longer is he surrounded by the warmth of close friends. No longer is he familiar with the gentle touch of his lover— all of this is a distant part of his now extended life.

During these times, he was happy.

Despite being surrounded by Vidyadharas, Xianzhou natives, and Foxians, he adored the life he once had. Unlike many others, he did not lament over the span of his life in comparison to those around him. Even if his existence was short-lived, he would be allowed to spend it in its entirety with you.

You were both destined to have a short lifespan, but how lucky he was to be able to spend the entirety of his ephemeral existence with you. The Aeons had truly smiled upon him, allowing him the opportunity to live a fulfilling life alongside someone who had the same outlook.

You both saw the direct effects of chasing after immortality— witnessing the havoc brought by the Denizens of Abundance. Aside from that, having each other was enough to keep you both content.

You’d live together, then you’d eventually die together.

You were supposed to live and die together.

Ren was never supposed to be alive without you by his side.

With that bitterness, the memory quickly fades back into black, another voice bringing him back to the reality he wishes never was.

“Blade? Bladie! Have you always been this unresponsive?” Kafka murmurs. Blade huffs.

“I was thinking,” he mutters.

“I didn’t know you could do that, but could it wait? We still have work to do. First things first, you’re covered in blood, and I have no interest in knowing whose it is, but you should clean it,” Kafka mentions. Blade doesn’t need to look to know it’s his own.

His expression becomes grim at the glaring reminder of what he is: immortal with a monstrous healing ability. More importantly, he’s unable to die.

Blade has become considerably inhuman. Healing salves and medicine are things of the past to him. No longer does he need careful hands to clean his wounds— he just allows them to scar over these days.

Distantly, he can hear your voice echoing in his mind, scolding him for not taking care of himself— insisting that he had to clean his injuries lest they scar over.

But he sees no point. If it isn’t the familiar warmth of his lover, he doesn’t want any sort of first aid or assistance.

Perhaps, each scar is a manifestation of the monster he’s become. Maybe it’s merely his way of punishing himself. Either way, he cares little about it. He thinks it’s counterproductive to ponder about these sorts of things. Thoughts seldom bring back the dead.

“There you go again, lost in your head,” Kafka complains, crossing her arms. “At least enlighten me. You remember parts of your past, don’t you? Care to share with the class?”

Blade remains silent, causing Kafka to laugh a bit.

“Come on. There must be a reason that you’re gloomy and pissed all the time in private. You only have that aggressive ferocity when it has to do with your revenge. Otherwise, you’re practically a husk. So? What’s your story?” she asks with a smirk. He looks away, expression remaining a blank slate.

Such things aren’t her business. Those memories would remain untouched.

“Beyond my need and targets for vengeance, I don’t remember anything,” he claims in a monotonous tone. Clearly, it’s convincing enough for Kafka because she quickly continues with her own train of thought.

“Well, I’ve heard through the grapevine that you used to be less… bland. You used to be cheerful, apparently. I can’t imagine it, personally, much less what could’ve happened to change you into the polar opposite. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was just a rumor,” Kafka muses.

“I can hardly believe it. It’s likely just a baseless rumor,” Blade expresses, though deep down his chest tightens. Reminded of your expression, he knows that there indeed exists a time where he could truly consider himself happy.

All of it is so far in the past that he hardly remembers how it feels— true joy. He’s familiar with the burning sensation rage brought, and the slight satisfaction of getting the upper hand— but happiness?

Much like his former self, it’s a concept that’s become foreign to him.

Despite how he may feel about that, it’s unimportant. The joy of his past is insignificant in the face of the tragedy of your passing and his “prosperity.”

Nothing can change the fact that you’re gone and he, by some curse, isn’t.

Above all else, revenge on your behalf is Blade’s top priority.

He still needs to pay for taking everything away from him.

For cursing him with his current disposition.

Initially, Blade— Ren is naive to just how awful a curse immortality is.

On the brink of a premature death, he lies near motionless in Imbibitor Lunae’s arms, vision blurring in and out of focus. Breathing is painful, yet his body is numb.

He rasps out your name, wishing only to see your face in his final moments— wishing that he had more time with you.

It’s too soon— I need more time, he thinks to himself.

I don’t want to die.

Perhaps, Imbibitor Lunae can hear these thoughts of his, or perhaps, driven by his own desires, refuses to allow Ren to die.

Before he knows it, it feels as if a new life is being breathed into him, his body rapidly healing, taking in a sharp inhale as his vision clears and his body repairs itself.

With wide eyes, he looks to the Vidyadhara, communicating all of his thoughts through a single expression.

Fear.

“I’m… healed..? I feel different… you…” Ren trails off. The other does not speak, and the silence is the answer he needs.

He says nothing. Because that day, he is allowed to return home to you and your loving warmth. Ren fools himself into believing that, perhaps, immortality is a blessing in certain circumstances.

Wrapped up in your arms once more, he actually believes himself to be lucky to have immortality bestowed upon him.

However, just as quick as Lunae made the decision to breathe immortality into him, he’s reminded of why immortality is nothing but a curse of abundance.

Ren finds himself coming to believe that he would’ve been better off dying and awaiting your arrival in the afterlife. Though he would’ve broken his promise to live and die by your side, you both would’ve been better off.

You both would’ve been happier.

Instead, he’s forced to watch you slowly crumble with age. Strangely, you never visually grow any older, but he can see the way your body slows— the pain you’re in.

Jing Yuan, Lunae, and himself are forced to watch as your cheery disposition mellows out as you grow older, unable to run around and gather herbs as you once did, hardly able to keep fighting alongside everyone else anymore.

Despite that, you still dutifully mend his wounds. You make no comment on his immortality or the pace at which he healed— you never did since finding out about it. Whether it’s for his sake or yours, he doesn’t know.

He doesn’t know if you detest him for it.

With time, your mellowness becomes weakness until you can only be out for a couple of hours at a time— bedbound when your body no longer allows for activity.

Your outlook is grim. Ren knows this just as well as his close confidants do, but he never leaves your side. His love for you never wavers.

Just as you did for him in your younger years, he cares for you dutifully. The man makes your meals, mixes your medicine, entertains you— anything you need.

Though you both remain the perfect picture of your younger selves, your body is breaking down while Ren remains as he did the day he was granted immortality.

Desperately, Ren attempts to ignore your incoming demise— trying to push down his pain when he sees you become more and more tired, the color of your eyes dulling with each passing day— the only physical sign that you’re nearing your end.

Before he knows it, before he’s ready, that fateful day arrives.

Ren is forced to leave your side to tend to his duties. As much as he doesn’t want to, he has to go, hardly able to bring himself to walk away, let alone bid farewell, even if it’s temporary.

“Leaving…? When will you be back?” you ask in a gentle voice, the warmth never leaving your tone no matter how weak you’ve become. Ren smiles softly, trying to save face as he runs his fingers through your hair.

“By nightfall. I’ll be back by your side before you know it,” he promises. There’s an expression in your eyes that he can’t quite place, but you speak before he can acknowledge it.

“Ah… but it always feels so long for me,” you mention with a light laugh. The sentence holds an unspoken weight, acknowledging the vast differences in your lifespans. Ren has to hold back tears as he leans down and kisses your forehead.

“Either way, I’ll be back today. I won’t keep you waiting,” he says, pulling away. Ren glances over at the door where Imbibitor Lunae and Jing Yuan stand, soon forcing himself from your side and walking over.

“They’ll be okay,” Jing Yuan states, a silent oath to watch over you visible in his determined expression. Ren nods, preparing to leave before you call out.

“Ren?”

He looks back at you.

“Yes? What is it? Is something wrong?” he asks. You pause, searching his expression.

“If something happens… Promise you’ll find your way back to me,” you say. Ren’s heart tightens at the fragility in your gaze— the worry in your tone. Forcing another smile, he hopes to reassure you.

“Nothing will happen to me. I promise. I’ll return to you,” he swears. For a moment, you seem like you have something else to say, but bite your tongue. Instead, you nod, regarding him with a saddened yet adoring expression.

“If you insist. Goodbye, Ren. I love you,” you say.

“See you again, my love. I love you too,” he responds and walks out the door.

The day passes and upon his return, he wishes that he’d never left in the first place.

“They’re gone, Ren. I walked away for just a moment and they left,” Jing Yuan insists.

“It can’t be that simple! They have to be around here somewhere— we have to find them!” Ren insists in a panic, about to dash out the door.

This time, Lunae stops him with a firm grip of his shoulder.

“They’re no longer with us. It’s been hours since their disappearance. Jing Yuan already searched tirelessly and fruitlessly,” the Vidyadhara reminds him. Ren wants to retaliate— he desperately wants to insist that you must be out there, but Jing Yuan interrupts him before he can start.

“I had a feeling. They said goodbye to you, Ren. They knew. I don’t think they wanted us to see them like that. They didn’t want us to remember them in… this state,” Jing Yuan explains, a grim expression on his face as he glances over at the empty bed. Ren feels his heart shatter, tearing himself away from the two.

“No! I have to see it for myself!” he insists angrily, running off in hopes that you’d be out collecting herbs like you always did— hoping that you’d return to him with a loving smile.

Ren never found you.

Years passed, and aside from tales written in stories and memories, it was as if you never existed.

No matter how hard he looked, he never found you, dead or alive.

As time continued on without you, his resentment grew as grief shattered his mind. Ren learned the true pain of being immortal— living knowing that all he’d ever loved had departed from this world.

Ren will never meet you in the afterlife. And you will never return.

This fact causes him to bury his memories beneath vengeance and fury— his mind set on delivering karmic debt to those who caused this predicament. Cutting himself off from who he used to be, he wanders— an unnamed whose existence becomes bathed in blood.

He’s desperate to die— to meet you once more, but he'll be unable to face you if he doesn’t drag those who caused this down with him. Immortality is a sin, but more so is the centuries he’s been keeping you waiting in the netherworld.

It is then that he meets Kafka and Destiny’s Slave, Elio.

While unable to return you to him, they provide the promise of death in return for his cooperation.

Thus, “Blade” was born, now enacting his plans for vengeance in hopes that at the end of it all,

He’ll be freed from this curse, finally able to reunite with you in death.

Firm in his resolve, he turns towards Kafka once more, having become clearly disinterested given the way he continuously ignored her.

“We shouldn’t idle around. Let’s go,” Blade states, eyes alight with passionate fury once more.

Aboard another section of the Xianzhou Luofu, a lone Vidyadhara stares curiously at a pair of wanted posters newly plastered on the bulletin.

Eyes trained on the male, you feel your heart tighten, a strange feeling of longing filling your chest.

“Blade… Blade…?” The name feels foreign on your tongue, but the face of this man is anything but. A single tear rolls down your face, causing you to reach up, wiping it away with slight confusion.

“Why am I…?” your voice trails off as you look back at the photo. It all feels so familiar, but you’re unable to place it. It’s disheartening.

“Hey! There you are!” a young voice calls out. You turn around, smiling as a young swordsman prances up to you.

“My apologies, I didn’t know you were looking for me,” you say softly. Yanqing hums.

“Not me, the General. The Healer Lady finished your medicine and she wants to see you aga— are you okay? Were you crying?” he asks worriedly, concern etched into his features. You laugh lightly and glance back at the poster. Yanqing’s eyes follow your gaze and he has to hold back a gasp upon realizing what you were looking at.

“It’s nothing. This man just seems… familiar to me. It’s been so long and everything is still so foggy to me… I wonder if he’s from my previous incarnation, but I cannot be certain,” you explain, clearly distressed. Yanqing gently grabs your hand, leading you forward.

���W-Well! Lady Bailu always says you shouldn’t force it, so let’s get going. You can talk with her about it. I’m sure she’ll give you much more insight than I could,” he chimes. You smile, nodding in agreement.

“That’s true. Bailu is far more familiar with this than I am despite reincarnating much more recently than I. I’m grateful to have been in her care. Oh, and of course, I’m plenty grateful that the General has been caring for me now, as well,” you hum, allowing the boy to drag you off to the Seat of Divine Foresight.

Upon your arrival, the General glances over with a fond smile. This man also seems very familiar to you, but as Yanqing mentioned, forcing memories of your past is unwise. Without having anyone who knew your last incarnate, you just had to wait. If they return, they would do so naturally.

“General! I found them,” the boy called out. Jing Yuan nods.

“Welcome back. How was your stroll?” he asks kindly. You walk over, offering a warm expression.

“It was lovely. Though I can’t journey out behind the Exalting Sanctum, I still enjoy the scenery,” you express. Jing Yuan chuckles.

“I'm glad you don’t mind the restriction. It’s for safety purposes. Of course, I’m sure your work with Bailu will allow you more freedom. It’d just be better if you didn’t venture out without an escort,” Jing Yuan explains, watching as you acknowledge his statement with a smile.

“I know, and I understand why. Ah, Lady Bailu is waiting for me, right? She’s checking up on me, then I have to tend to my duties with her,” you mention. The General nods.

“She’ll be here shortly. While I still have you here, have any new memories come through?” he asks curiously, a slight glimmer of hope in his eyes. You look away, that painful feeling returning once more.

“Yes, but… it’s… that man in the wanted posters. He looks so familiar to me, but the name doesn’t feel right,” you murmur before offering a wry smile. “Perhaps he just reminds me of someone I once knew? I’m not certain, but it’s something.”

Jing Yuan remains silent for a moment before brushing it off quickly before you notice. With a sympathetic smile, he walks over and places a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Even so, it’s a step closer towards remembering. Now, why don’t you await Bailu’s arrival outside? I have a few matters I need to discuss with Yanqing,” the General says. You glance between the two before bowing politely.

“Of course. I’ll see you two later. Yanqing. Stop by later so I can replace the bandage on your face. If you don’t keep it clean, it’ll scar,” you chide lightly. Yanqing pouts a bit at your insistence but agrees nonetheless.

“I will! See you later!” he chimes. You wave at the pair before exiting the hall. Soon after you leave, the young boy’s expression falls, looking over at the General.

“I know Blade is evil, but… is this really right, General? Keeping their memories from them and hiding their existence from him seems…” Yanqing trails off. Jing Yuan releases a deep exhale.

Truthfully, your return had come as a shock to him as well. Just as Ren did, he firmly believed you were a human.

Imagine his shock when you returned, not as a human, but a Vidyadhara. It was then that he learned that, like Imbibitor Lunae, your horns and tail would appear at your will, and your ears were far less pointy than your draconic counterparts.

When you had disappeared that day, you had done so to properly reincarnate once more. However, he only managed to find you now in your young adult years after seeing you work alongside Bailu.

Since that day, he’d been keeping his promise from ages ago to watch over you and keep you safe. All of it was an easy feat given that you trusted him rather quickly, likely due to an inherent familiarity you had toward him.

You couldn’t remember who he was, those memories buried deep within your consciousness, given that you’d spent years on your own, mind foggy and memories shattered.

While he’s certain that it’s but a matter of time until your memories return, he sincerely hopes it won’t be anytime soon.

Keeping you hidden away from the public eye is difficult enough as is. If you remember, he’ll have no choice but to respect your wishes, no matter what they may be.

Turning towards Yanqing, Jing Yuan gives him a stern gaze.

“Yangqing. It goes beyond the comfort of knowing. If I told Re— Blade, he’d want to remain by their side,” he starts and his expression becomes grim. “Tell me. As he is now, an IPC fugitive and a Stellaron Hunter, do you think Blade could provide them with the life they deserve, or the stability they need?”

Yanqing quiets momentarily before speaking up again, “But..! Back then, you always told me they were so close— that Blade is this way because he lost them. Maybe if he at least knew…”

Jing Yuan sighs. He cannot fault the naivety of a child, let alone the pure hopefulness in his expression, but he has to explain it properly lest the boy do something rash.

“If he knew, he’d stop at nothing to be with them. Right now, he longs for death solely to be reunited with them. Blade has long since abandoned the righteous path. While I cannot fault him for it, I also don’t doubt that he’d burn down the entire Luofu if it meant returning with them,” the General explained. Quickly noticing Yanqing’s saddened expression, he ruffles his hair playfully.

“It’s better this way. I promise you that,” he assures. The young swordsman sighs.

“I know but it’s all so sad! They saw his picture and started crying. I didn’t know what to do…”

“Well, they’ll learn the truth someday. All we can do is keep them safe until then. When the time comes, they’ll make their own decision of what to do with the burden of their past.”

Yanqing frowns. “It seems cruel to have to make that choice. I wish they didn’t have to…”

Jing Yuan hums in agreement, but allows the conversation to taper off, leaving them in silence.

Perhaps, there exists a timeline where neither of you were cursed with immortality— a world where, back in those lighter days, the two of you lived and died together.

However, it seems that the Aeons had other plans for you two. The General considers himself lucky to have been saved from such a tragedy.

After all, Jing Yuan is certain that you and Blade are soulmates. No amount of pain or suffering will change that.

What he’s clueless about is if, or rather, when your memories return to you and you recall the way your soul was once intertwined with Ren’s,

Would you allow it to remain but a distant memory, something to be left to the times of your past? Or…

Would you stray away from the proper path to return to Blade’s side?

Only time can tell, and that time, he knows, is fast approaching.

[ihatealimore]

Honey Whiskey

(word count: 2,135)

As Kurapika sits beside Leorio at the bar, he observes his friend chatting energetically while downing a mug of beer quickly. Occasionally, Leorio flashes a wink at the bartender or any woman who approaches the general vicinity of the bar.

Initially having no intention to drink himself, Kurapika finds his resolve wavering when Leorio brings up how (Y/N) would often join him for drinks. Perhaps indulging in one or two beverages wouldn't be such a bad idea after all...

"How's your drink, Kurapika? Do you like it?" Leorio prods him after finishing his beer and setting the glass back down on the bar.

Kurapika picks up the glass of whiskey his friend had ordered for him, examining the transparent liquid with an indifferent gaze. He takes a small sip, the drink burning down his throat and making his eyes water slightly, "It's strong."

Leorio easily became distracted by the bartender taking his empty glass and walking away. He turns in his chair to face Kurapika, hopefully asking, "Oh, do you think she would give me her number?"

The blonde-haired man casts a glance towards the bartender then back at Leorio who keeps trying to make flirty eye contact with her. He sighs lightly and takes another sip of his whiskey, "Leorio," He starts in his usual stern tone, "Your chances would be better if you behaved more maturely."

"You're so mean," Leorio pouts, crossing his arms petulantly, which was really only proving Kurapika's point, "Girls like me! I haven't gotten anyone's number yet but-"

Kurapika interrupts him with a smirk, "Failing to get any numbers isn't exactly convincing evidence in your favor, is it?" 

The alcohol was starting to loosen his normally iron grip on his composure.

"You'll see!" Leorio chugs down another mug of beer, earning a chuckle from his friend, "What about you and (Y/N)? What's going on there?"

Kurapika's laughter quickly fades at the mention of your name and his gaze drops to his own drink, "There's nothing going on," He responds stiffly, avoiding Leorio's teasing gaze.

"But she talks about you a lot and it seems like you guys spend a lot of time together," Leorio is quick to point out to him.

The Kurta takes a moment to process Leorio's words, his grey eyes flickering with surprise. He had never realized you talked about him outside of work, let alone 'a lot.' 

"She... Talks about me?" He questions slowly.

"Yeah, all the time!"

"Really?" Kurapika's eyebrows went up, a rare show of surprise on his normally impassive face. He takes another sip from his drink to hide the sudden flush on his cheeks.

As the night progresses, Kurapika indulges in a few more drinks, thinking he knows his limit. He was wrong. He finds himself thoroughly intoxicated, while Leorio roams the crowded bar, talking to anyone who will look his way.

A presence in the seat beside him and an all too familiar voice draws his attention, "Kurapika, I didn't expect to see you here."

He turns to see none other than (Y/N) smiling at him, your eyes twinkling with amusement, "(YN)," Kurapika greeted, a bit too enthusiastically and louder than he had intended.

His mind is swirling but he's able to recognize your voice instantly. How strange. He needs to regain control of himself before you realize how drunk he is.

"Leorio dragged you here, huh?" You remark with a chuckle, flagging down the bartender to order a drink, "Is that whiskey? I'm surprised."

Trying to regain some sense of control over his inebriated state, Kurapika responds a little more defensively than he meant to, "Leorio wanted company and... It's not bad."

"Let's agree to disagree. Whiskey is disgusting," You say as you take your own drink from the bartender, thanking them before taking a sip.

Despite his drunken state, Kurapika finds himself chuckling along, playfully stating, "Then I suppose it's a good thing I'm the one drinking it."

"We can agree on that. I figured you weren't much of a drinker," You muse with a teasing grin.

"I'm not... Usually," He admits as he lets his gaze drift towards you, "But it seems there's something about being around you and Leorio that encourages such behavior."

You can't help but let a laugh slip from your lips, "Mostly Leorio though, right?" You wonder as your eyes scan the bar, trying to spot him, "He wandered off and left you here, huh?"

Kurapika nods, more as a confirmation to himself than to you, "Yes, typical Leorio," He mutters with a faint smile on his lips.

"Very typical," You finally make eye contact with Leorio from across the bar, offering him a friendly wave.

A sudden, unexpected pang of jealousy flares up in Kurapika's chest. It's a new and confusing sensation that he quickly tries to dismiss, "(Y/N)," He finds himself blurting out without thinking, "I don't want you to look at Leorio."

He surprised himself with his burst of possessiveness. It seems the alcohol is revealing parts of him even he wasn't aware existed. But it also feels genuine. He wonders if this feeling has been hiding somewhere deep inside all along.

"Eh?" You tilt your head in confusion, your brow furrowed, "Why's that? Did he do something stupid?"

"No, it's just..." He hesitates before leaning in closer, his inebriated mind deciding to spill everything, "I want you here with me," He confesses, his eyes locked on yours.

Your eyes widen in surprise before a knowing smile forms on your lips, "Oh, I get it. You're drunk, aren't you?"

Caught off guard, he blinks at you a few times before laughing weakly. His face flushes more than it already was from the alcohol as he admits, "Hmm, maybe."

A chuckle escapes your lips at his hesitant admission, "I never thought I'd see the day."

"Neither did I," He replies, finding himself smiling back at you, "It's strange but not entirely unpleasant."

"It's cute, you know," You begin, "To see you act more open. And maybe even a little jealous?"

"Cute?" He echoes, his brows knitting together at the unfamiliar word. At your insinuation, his face turned a darker shade of pink, "I... Maybe."

No one has ever described him as cute before. And you noticed the jealousy too. Maybe it was more obvious than he thought.

"Don't worry," You reassure him, setting your hand on top of his, "You have my full attention."

He stares at your hand on his, his mind swimming in a heady mixture of alcohol and emotions. With a small nod, Kurapika responds softly yet sincerely, "Thank you, (Y/N)."

You take another sip of your drink, adding, "I'm all ears. We can talk about anything you would like."

He blinks at you, feeling a slight sobering effect from your words. He isn't sure why but he trusts you in this moment more than anyone else, "I want to talk about us."

Is this what people call 'liquid courage'?

"Us?" You contemplate, "What about us?"

"Well..." The Kurta begins, fumbling for words. His inebriated mind is struggling to find the right ones until he finally manages to say, "I suppose... How we feel about each other."

You're caught off guard by his words, speechless for a moment before nodding, "Sure, but are you okay to talk about this while drunk? I don't want you to say anything you'll regret."

"I... I think it's okay," He mutters, not quite trusting himself but feeling like he needs to say this, "I want you to know how much I appreciate your presence in my life."

Even if the words are slurred and uncertain, they come from a place deep within him, one that holds enormous respect and affection for you. It doesn't matter if it's alcohol-induced or not. These feelings are real.

You find yourself smiling at him reverently, the next words falling from your lips easily, "The feeling is mutual."

Hearing those words from you, Kurapika can't help but feel a sense of relief washing over him. He offers you an appreciative smile in return and whispers softly, "I'm glad," Watching you take another sip of your beverage, he bites his tongue in vain, unable to stop the next words from slipping out of his mouth, "(Y/N), I feel more than just appreciation for you. Much more."

"Much more?" You question him, echoing his confession. 

Kurapika takes a deep breath, trying to shake off the dizziness brought on by his sudden admission, "I think I might have feelings for you."

The words are out in the open now and there's no taking them back. As terrifying as it is, part of him feels relief, maybe because they were so long overdue.

Silence hangs in the air around him for a lingering moment until you look up from your drink, your eyes boring deeply into his, "I'm glad it's not just me then."

His heart pounds loudly in his chest as he digests your words. A smile slowly spreads across Kurapika's face, visible relief wrapping around him, "You feel the same?"

He never allowed himself to entertain this possibility but you have feelings for him too? It feels like a dream, too good to be true. Yet, it's real.

"Is that surprising?"

"A bit, yes," Kurapika admits, his honesty shining through even in his drunken state, "I didn't think someone like me could evoke such feelings."

You raise an eyebrow at his statement, wondering, "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean... Someone who is so focused on their past, and vengeance, and," He pauses momentarily before murmuring, "Someone who doesn't know how to love or be loved."

He has always been aware of his shortcomings when it comes to emotional connections. But having them brought to the surface like this makes him feel vulnerable yet eager at the same time.

"But those things don't define you, Kurapika. I like you for who you are," You explain, setting your drink down to take both of his hands in yours, "You're intelligent, stubborn, annoyingly so sometimes. But most of all, you're caring and kind."

His heart warms at your words, a genuine smile tugging at his lips, "You really think so?"

"I know so. You're someone that means a lot to me," You confess, squeezing his hands gently while maintaining eye contact.

"And you..." Kurapika begins, his gaze softening, "You're strong, resilient. You have this knack for understanding people that's truly remarkable. Despite your own stubborn nature," He gives a small chuckle at the thought, "You are incredibly patient and kind-hearted."

"That's very sweet of you," You respond with a smile, feeling touched by his words.

"You're beautiful, (Y/N)," He adds hesitantly, his heart pounding in his chest, "Not just outwardly but your soul too. The way you handle situations with grace and understanding, the strength that shines through when times are tough. It's all incredibly captivating."

It feels both invigorating and terrifying to be this open about his feelings towards you. But seeing you smile at his words makes it all worth it. You've always been his pillar of support when things get tough, someone he deeply cares about.

"I like seeing this side of you," You muse softly, "Drunk Kurapika is a real sweet talker."

Kurapika gives an amused chuckle at this, nodding in acceptance, "Well, I can't promise this sweet-talking version of me will stick around once the effects wear off, but it's nice to know you aren't entirely opposed to it."

"Not at all," You reassure him, "Though I do wonder how much of this you'll remember in the morning."

Kurapika lets out a hushed sigh, raking his fingers through his blonde locks, "I'm not sure. But if I forget... Would you remind me of this conversation?"

"Of course, I will," You agree with a nod before teasing him with a small smirk, "If you weren't so drunk, I'd be inclined to kiss you."

Kurapika feels his heart skip a beat at your words. He blinks, stunned and somewhat hopeful as he responds weakly, "I am... Not that drunk."

Your suggestion brings an unexpected flutter in his stomach. A mix of excitement and nervousness floods over him at the thought that you might want to kiss him too, just like he has found himself wanting on multiple occasions since you and him started opening up about your emotions towards each other tonight.

You snort out a laugh, "Oh, is that so? Can you say your ABC's backwards?"

"Z, Y..." Kurapika begins before stopping and groaning. His mind is too clouded to think clearly enough for a complex task such as this, "You're asking the impossible, (Y/N)."

"That's adorable," You reach out to ruffle his hair playfully, "I appreciate your attempt."

He gives a wry smile at your comment, swatting your hand away gently from his hair, "You're enjoying this too much."

"How could I not?" You muse with a laugh, adding, "How about this? I'll owe sober Kurapika a kiss."

Kurapika heart flutters in his chest, "Then I'll make sure to remind you of your promise when I'm sober, (Y/N)."

Even in his increasingly intoxicated state, this one promise from you holds a significant importance for him. A vow that brings forth an exciting anticipation within his chest. Maybe drinking wasn't such a bad idea after all. 

[anteroom-of-death]

Unnecessary Evil

Synopsis: What was going on in the Doctor's mind when he escaped the Confession Dial? At what limits did he let his mind wander to? What prompted his redemption?

A/N: it's so fun playing with characters that don't have concepts of human morality. Warnings for general darkness and such.

Coming out of Hell, his ears rang like a bomb detonated in his general vicinity. Deafening. Blood-draining. The paranoia seeping in. Both of his hearts shot cold.

He turned to face wherever he was.

Of course! His own traitorous, ungrateful race. Of course! Jealous and naturally unambiguous, these demented fools, ever so committed to his demise. At the cost of her.

Never satisfied. Even after he, all of him, bailed them out of the War. It probably caved in their illusions of dignity. Saved by one of the ones they cleaved into rejecting. Useless unless used…

He craved to reach into the chest of whoever was responsible, and crush their hearts. Probably Rassilon. Or that general who called him mad, even as he held the fate of their entire survival in this hands. Mangle theirs as his had been. He craved to beat them as bloody as he was in that dial. (Although, the blood draining from him each time took on new levels of pleasure in her absence.) He felt more animal than Time Lord, all fried nerves and the lust to take his teeth and tear into their jugulars. Every single last of the arrogant high-born class he had the displeasure of being born into. Watch them regenerate helplessly as he ran their lives out.

No plan, yet.

And violence on this level would disappoint her. His beautiful Clara, her rage would never cease if he saved her after he slaughtered every single last one of them.

He had to do a cleaner job for her sake.

The image of wanting to reach his hands into their bleeding chests still gave him a rush. A just cause- a million lives for one…he had done it before.

What did he call himself once? The Time Lord Victorious.

Yeah, he could do that once more. Being the only one of his kind seemed delicious at the moment.

Even the Gallifreyans that weren’t a part of the Time Lords would benefit. Lives under such disgusting and pathetic ponces would be better off erased from the count of the universe. The elite grew fat off pretense while everyone else starved- where they could still breathe, his Clara lay dead in the long-forgotten past on Trap Street.

A past that the High Council and him remembered. That stupid little human he regretted saving had probably blotted her from her bratty memory. All of Clara’s loved ones lay dead and drained of existence.

All but erased.

It sucked the air from his lungs and felt like glass had waded its way into his guts.

To forget Clara Oswald, in her infinite sass, her boundless character, her goodness? A sin worse than any recorded by any faith imagined by any weaker mind. How nobly she had gone off to die! Without him.

How he regretted not going to her, to hold her warm, little hand as she breathed her last. Not alone, die in her place or even die right with her? To lay in his final death beside her? To lie in the cold ground of Earth right beside her? Silent bliss. What he was owed.

Another sin.

A necessary evil to blot out an inexcusable one? He already knew he wasn’t a good man. He’d long since established that within himself.

He wouldn’t grieve for her, he’d go to her. Save her. Fix this. Burn this planet and all its people out of existence.

A plan began to form.

Alone with all he stood for draining out of him. He needed new clothes. Nothing she would call Doctor-y or enjoy.

Doctor no more.

Of course the wee folk, the ones that truly recognized his sacrifice over the years would welcome him, and they did.

The hospitality was worlds-class as he laid himself down and rage took over.

Of course, the first thing these parasites did was threaten them to get at him. Weak, parasitic creatures. Getting an immortal earthling to bring him to heel?

One line was drawn in the sand.

He crossed another line.

Rassilon had all of time now to run terrified of him, terrified of what the bastard son of these Time Lords may do to him. His hearts could stop in fear every time he saw a shadow. His brain may eat at him in agony of it all. Maybe he’d become a sacrifice to a mad Dalek or even worse, some foe of the Time Lords that they blotted out of reach and memory.

Maybe he’d chase him down. Nowhere to run, just get it over. Dispatch him as cleanly and get it over as quickly as that man ordered the death of her. The Lord President, frozen in fear as he realized that he had no way out, no place to run. Not even a scream escaping his lips as he died like a fox torn by beagles.

Good.

That image felt good.

He found himself the new President, control slipping as he sat around as they quizzed him on the stupid myth of a hybrid. The ludicrous rumor of something half Time Lord- half Dalek…

He couldn’t lie to himself; the windows and walls would benefit from a coat of every single one of these aristocrat’s blood as paint. This body loved to draw and paint. He could even draw his beloved Clara’s face (even though he always had trouble with faces and found it difficult to memorize even his favorite face, hers…) in exquisite detail. Then he could drag the rest of the Time Lords up here and make them apologize to her as he dispatched them.

A slow genocide…

Every single time someone called him by his chosen name, he recoiled. The Doctor was someone Clara could count on. Some title that felt more natural off her tongue. Someone, something that belonged to her.

Who was he now? Was he that Valeyard, whom he would become eventually? Possibly. He didn’t feel there yet. The name didn’t feel remotely natural. He’d have to find a new one to bridge the gap between the Doctor and the Valeyard…

The Sisterhood of Karn stood there as his world divided. Useless. Saccharine. Pretending to play both sides.

There were places in the cosmos where they’d fetch pretty prices. Maybe he could sell them? He had no use for money, but their faces as he sold them to people who’d ruin them in body, mind and spirit would please him. Perhaps he’d purchase the services and watch them flounder in service to him…

The white-hot rage burned through him. All but purifying his mind and detaching himself from the table in which he sat.

So he sat, trying to figure out a new plan, a new name, a new anything. Something to rid him of this guilt, he felt a tug at his gut and an image blind his mind.

Her face.

His Clara’s face. Finally clear, despite this current body’s inability to process faces. Radiant as the day he lost her.

Unlined, except for crinkles around her eyes just beginning to form. Brought on by years of laughter and smiling at him when he managed to save everyone and everything. The little furrow that would smooth itself out after a few hours she’d get when she was deep in thought or grading papers aboard the TARDIS. All these effete elite’s faces had lines from regeneration and ageing into their bodies.

Clara was cut off before she would go grey, before she could wrinkle. Before he could add more lines to her face with smiles and proposals. He was thinking of making their life together official, in a way close to her species. He’d give her anything, a wedding, a million little Clara’s totting around the TARDIS, as bossy and good as their mother, adventures to all of time and space…

Anything. She was what was best of him.

She stopped him from teetering into the entrance of this body’s darkness and preoccupied with morality. She made him good when he didn’t know if he was good.

She wouldn’t want him like this.

Clara wouldn’t want him to be this.

Could he do this? Save her and remain the Doctor?

Did he want to do this?

Could he want this?

The images of what he could do or have done to his entire traitorous race still brought him glee. Glee and pleasure. He still wanted them to pay. He wanted them to feel a single grain of sand compared to the desert of pain he felt. He knew it was sadistic, but he'd been sadistic before. The thin, young, freckly man with the dark eyes and brown hair was certainly a sadist. So was the broad one with the curly blonde hair and a penchant for cat pins and sarcasm. Certainly, his first body was. Before Susan taught him to bleed it out of him. That little blonde bastard enjoyed killing Torvic for Koschei. He enjoyed the god-like feeling that killing someone with your bare hands gave from the very beginning.

Why did this form of sadism feel remotely different?

Options and his plans that started to form became colored with her of course! Clara wouldn’t enjoy his sadism.

Wasn’t he the smartest an most exemplary of then all? He could have his cake and eat it to. If he wanted. He could be sadistic and good too.

Many things can be true at once, he reasoned with himself.

Clara wanted him good.

He could be good for her.

He could bury these past mad days behind him and focus on that. Follow her orders.

He was in obeisance only to her. Even Missy knew. Missy even enjoyed it.

A plan snapped into place. He knew what needed done.

The image of Clara in a woven wedding dress slashed out of his mind’s eye. If he were to save her, he’d never get to offer himself to her on bended knee. Never get to hear her laugh or insults again, or that soft warm slightly-tanned hand in his large pale cold one. Her stomach round and tight with child…

He mourned the infants they should have had. Cradles sadly empty, tombs gladly never filled…

He prayed for love and his mortal dreams now dashed. Prayed to her, his Clara. His life never realized. Her life only a quarter-lived.

Their lives together, cut dreadfully short.

No more yesterday’s or tomorrow’s…

He set out and went to make her happen, to make her happy and alive.

Maybe that would be good enough, to echo her alive like her echoes did theirs. Not ideal, but just enough to give her a chance.

That was the man that he’d want to be for her. Good, or at least trying his best to not be, and not totally stained with the reality of what he was. What she refused to see. What she formed him to be. Different that he should be.

Her perfect Doctor.

And thus, the Doctor was reborn once more…

[theanonymousninja247]

Pretty Random Turtle Thunks: Baby Clothes

Scenario: You’ve just handed said Rise Aged Up Turtle a tiny baby outfit. Whether your child, a niece, nephew, sibling or just some infant you saved from the streets, just know there is now an itty bitty baby human within your general vicinity you are now taking care of

*Rating: Milk🥛(aka for anybody)*

Raph🧸❤️: Tears. Just. So. Many. Tears. Makes Niagara Falls look like a trickle. This man is literally loosing it, hand over mouth can’t stop staring at the ridiculously tiny piece of fabric in his hand. It’s barely the size of his fingers.

…Sweet Pizza Supreme in the Sky…

ItS BaReLy ThE sIzE oF hIs FinGeRs.

You find him hunkered down in his room immediately after the news, surrounded by the remains of over a dozen, half started knitting projects, tears still on his face as he tries to fathom the very idea that something can be that small.

He’s been trying to knit the perfect baby blanket, but his anxieties start to take over every time he starts over. He worries the material is gonna itch the baby’s skin. Is the baby gonna suffocate if the stitches are too tight? Will the baby drown in fabric if he makes it too big? Will the baby get too cold if it isn’t big enough? etc etc etc…

You’re gonna have to talk him down a little bit because he’s gonna work himself into a frenzy getting ready for the baby.

Donnie🤔🟪: Just looks at said article of clothing. Looks back up at you, face slightly pinching in confusion, then back at the outfit. Cue a slow curious thumbing of the fabric. Slow blink. Body suddenly freezes. Eyes comically begin to grow wide. (Give him a second, give him a second; he’s computing) Before his head suddenly snaps back up to stare at you and then almost frantically back down at the garment as the realization hits. There’s no outwardly facial reaction, but the tell tale sign is that his hand fumbles for his goggles as suddenly he’s going full inspection mode.

You are more or less not surprised when the article is met with immediate disdain.

Cue Donnie spending hours researching the best materials for baby clothes. They’re going to be 100% organic and made of the softest and most sterile fabrics he can find. And if he can’t find any brands that suit his high class fancy, well he’ll just design a machine to do the job himself. He’s not the founder of Genius Tech for nothing.

This small infant will be associated with HIM of all people and a such deserves nothing but the highest quality. The best of the best for the best. Obviously.

Your child will be the most finely dressed child of the century after being in the hands of Donnie for more than 5 seconds. There will be a fashion show. Period. Being a baby never looked this good. 

Leo✨💠: Realization that slowly unfurls like a blossom in the morning sun. This turtles face is so bright with excitement when it finally clicks that he literally becomes the sun for like solid minute it’s just that big. However that smile immediately folds into that signature cat smirk that warns of nothing but impending deviousness.

Your child is in trouble, for it now lies in the hands of an evil mastermind, hell bent on causing tomfoolery that will last through out the generations to follow.

He’s always wanted to leave a legacy, and he will seize this moment and milk for all its worth. 

All the dad jokes. All of the horrible groan-inducing, eye-rolling, awful puns. All the stupid slapstick, low brow kind of humor are now practically plastered to your child’s clothing. He thinks he’s the funniest person alive and will do everything his power to infect said child with the same vein of humor.

Also, be warned of leaving your child alone with this man, because if left to his devices for too long, you will receive an unfathomable amount of memes and edited baby photos of your child and Leo in hilarious re-enactments scenes.  

Mikey🎨🧡: Pretty sure a missile just went off Because the squeal of excitement that erupted from this turtle was the only warning you got, before you were all but tackled in a hug like a rugby player, pretty much burst not only the sound barrier but your ear drums as well.

There! Is! So! Much! Excitement!

It. Can. Not. Be. CoNtAiNeD!!!!

It’s literally oozing out of him and man practically reverts into a child himself as the foundation of curiosity is exploded, and you are all but drowned in a relentlessly loving sea of questions. He wants to know EVERYTHING. All the time! Because he just - he just -he just can’t wait! All this time to prepare for another little bundle of joy!  It jumpstarts his creative spark in a way you have NEVER seen before. He now spends his time religiously spent in three locations: locked in close and glued to your hip, a culinary cabaret in which you are very much the honored guest who just has to taste test his newest recipe (your taste buds have never been this happy) or in his art studio working on just one more thing for the baby.

He’s designed his own baby clothes, painted more than enough scenes for multiple nurseries to be completely filled, and even written a couple of his own baby adventure comic books that he is just dying to read the awaited little one.

He’s beyond ecstatic at the thought that there’s now something tinier than him that he can help take care of and love. 

Bottom line: Both you and your baby are about to be welcomed into the arms of the most excited and loving family you will ever have the privilege of knowing. Just…good luck trying to get their arms off of you. Because they will never and I mean EVER let either one of you go. That is both their threat and their promise!

Shout out to the besties who proofread @anobodyinabog and @saspas-corner 🧡

As well as the ever incredible @avery73 (hope it’s ok to tag you in this, but I just realized that I lowkey based my turtle thunks after reading yours, and I wanted to give you the credit. Thought you might enjoy?)

[curlycarrion]

Popsicles

Reader: gn reader

Warnings: nsfw but nothing too bad. More suggestive than anything actually happening

MDNI

Context: When walking through town the both of you decide to get something sweet

Wc: 2.1k

A/n: Howdy y'all! I'm relatively new to writin and decided I wanted to give it a shot. This is my first fic so I hope y'all like it

It was a rather nice spring day on the island that you had found yourselves docked at. A cool breeze blowing by occasionally with the faint scent of flowers carried along with it while it kissed your skin with each pass, fresh grass having sprung up from it's winters sleep and swaying calmly in the wind, and the sun shining overhead with a spare cloud occasionally passing in front of it. It really was a nice day for exploring what the island had to offer.

Most of the crew had broken off into their own groups to do what they liked in this nice little break from the sea. Luffy running of to decimate the local food population, Nami and Robin meandering through the streets of the town looking for anything that may catch their eye, and you tagging along with Sanji as he decides to walk through the local markets for any new ingredients or spices to collect or try. Making idle chat between shops to occasionally fill in the silence, not that you really needed to. The rare silence actually being a welcome change of pace from the typical noise and banter the crew seems to create wherever they go. The silence wasn't the only benefit of this little trip of course. The trip gave you an opportunity to watch Sanji while he's not in a state of falling over himself whenever any pretty little thing walked by or working to fill the stomachs of the crew. No this was a moment where you could watch him calmly go about his day. The tall man seeming almost like a normal person while he appraises the wares of each market on the street you stop at. No sign of annoyance in a furrowed brow from the captain's yelling and antics or the swordsman's bickering and fights, no shows of the superior strength or abilities you've seen him demonstrate with ease countless times, and no cupped hands quickly brought to his nose in an attempt to keep blood from running down his chin to his throat.

Instead it was just Sanji, sweet kind-hearted Sanji. The man who puts his friends and loved ones first even if it means he gets hurt in the process. The man who could easily snap someone like a twig without breaking a sweat that handles his cooking and the women in his life with a gentle care that'd lead you to believe he was handling the most fragile glass. The man who was, most of the time, always dressed so nicely you'd think he was prepared for a fancy dinner or date at anytime.

"Y/n? Are you ready to go?" The sound of his voice quickly breaks you from your thoughts. Realizing you had zoned out while he was talking to the merchant and hadn't noticed him trying to grab your attention for a few moments.

"Oh right yeah, yeah sorry my thoughts were elsewhere." You apologize with a smile as you begin to follow along when he begins down the street. Noticing how he seems to have shortened his steps a little to slow down his pace so you don't have to walk quickly to keep up. The smoke from his cigarette trailing lazily behind him with each step. Managing to move your lingering eyes from the tall man beside you to observe your surroundings. The stalls of the markets filling the air with various scents and sounds that cover the smell of spring in their vicinity. Most of the fragrances coming from a little further down where there's various people selling street foods, baked goods, and snacks in general that leave you with a thought of grabbing something for yourself.

"Would you like to get something mon cheri? You deserve a treat for choosing to accompany me when you could've spent time with Nami and Robin instead." He offers with a sweet smile, almost as if sensing a rise in your interest in the idea of food. Looking around your surroundings you spot a little stand in the distance selling frozen goods, feeling a sweet tooth pop up at the prospect of something cold and sweet on the spring day.

"You say that like I need a reward for spending time with you, getting something sweet is just a bonus." You tease lightly as you take his hand and happily lead him over to the stand, not noticing the smile that comes across his face at your touch and the words that had left you. Letting you lead him along to the stand before paying for your choice of popsicle while ignoring your protest.

"Now what kind of a man would I be if I let you pay for your own dessert?" He asked rhetorically as he gave your hand a gentle squeeze as it was still wrapped in his. Taking the opportunity he finds a spot a bit away from the busy streets of the market to rest and enjoy the frozen treats you had gotten in peace. Sitting under the shade of a tree on the soft grass as you both settle and lean against the trunk.

"Sanji yours is going to melt before you end up finishing it." He blinks a couple times as he registers your words before quickly turning to his own dessert that had sat in his hands forgotten. Right he had something of his own.

"It's a lovely day today," He comments idly with a calm smile gracing his features as he continues with a sweet tone "perfect for enjoying with equally lovely company." He steals a glance over to you after speaking while taking a bite of his sweet before nearly choking on it. Seeing you beside him licking a stripe up the side of your popsicle before sucking on the tip of it with a pleased hum at the flavor.

"You're too sweet Sanji, if anyone's the lovely company here it's you." The words fall on deaf ears as he finds his focus set more on the movement of your tongue and lips as you take the treat into your waiting mouth once more. Watching the brightly colored dessert disappear between your lips and swallowing in tandem with you when he sees the movement of your throat when you swallow the fluid that had melted in your mouth. Unable to help but imagine other situations in which your mouth would move in a similar manner. Feeling heat begin to rise to his ears and the familiar twitch down below at the thoughts beginning to form in his head. Unsure of how long he had been lost in thought for until you turned your eyes up to him beside you. Seeming unknowingly innocent of what you're doing to him as you slowly pull the popsicle from your mouth and lick your lips. Clearly able to see the color staining your tongue from the bright flavoring when you point to his hand.

He feels a small wave of guilt wash over him for a moment at being lost in lewd thoughts of you, though a small part of him can't help but want to see more. Caught in an internal battle between the two as he chastises himself while simultaneously replaying the image in his head. Resuming in eating his dessert as an attempt of a distraction from the tantalizing sight beside him. This is his friend after all. He shouldn't be having these thoughts while you sit right next to him, naively pushing the popsicle deeper into your mouth after you'd finished speaking. Blissfully unaware of how much the sight of your lips wrapped around the sweet treat made his composure crack and the blood threaten to sting his nose. How he manages to keep the blood in he doesn't know. Wanting nothing more than to pull you close and taste the flavor to see what made you so glad to invite it so deeply into your mouth without a second thought. To see if you'd react the same way if it was replaced with something of his own. If you'd just as happily sink your pretty lips down around him if given the opportunity, maybe even happier to do so. Maybe you'd be shy about it. Careful in your movement as you look up at him with doe eyes for approval.

God he needs to stop thinking about this. Each thought gets him closer and closer to cracking and possibly doing something he'd regret. He'd never hurt you of course, god no he wouldn't even dream of it. If he had the opportunity to even touch you in a more than friendly manner he'd treat you like royalty having come down from the heavens themselves, something greater than himself that he'd gladly get on his knees and worship to. You deserved nothing less as someone who sends his heart souring with just a smile sent his way. No he needed to stop his thoughts so he didn't accidentally push you away.

You were his own angel. A dear friend. Someone who brings both joy and calm to his life with each breath you take. He can't ruin this with his own lustful desires that simmer just beneath his skin and threaten to boil over with each sinful swipe of your tongue. Watching what isn't currently buried into the warmth of your mouth begin to melt and drip down in-between your fingers and palm as it reaches the inside of your wrist. Feeling his control hanging by a thread, a single rapidly fraying thread that snaps at your next movement. Noticing the dripping you remove the half gone popsicle from your mouth and bring your wrist up. Eyebrows furrowing disapprovingly at the sticky sensation between your fingers as you tongue moves to clean the juice moving down your wrist.

"You taste divine mon cœur, surely you'd make anything sweeter with just your touch. I hope you don't mind me tasting more." He compliments with a smile that looks both flirty and genuine. His eyes locking onto yours as his tongue wraps around your fingers before dipping between them in a lewd gesture that sends your heart hammering against your ribs. While he had flirted with you before, frequently in all honesty, this was a whole new level that the both of you had yet to reach until now.

Sanji moves without thinking, the possible consequences that might arise the furthest thing from his mind as he grabs your hand. Leaning close to you as his lips meet the inside of your wrist in a short and soft kiss, watching your eyes grow wide at the sudden movement as his tongue tastes the flavor sticking to his lips. Realizing what he did he goes to let go with a rapid apology for his behavior before stopping when he looks at you. Not seeing any disgust or anything negative in your expression or eyes, no. No you were surprised, your attention was on him, and most importantly.. you didn't pull away.

Feeling a small surge of confidence he decides to test the waters. His tongue coming out once more to follow the sweet colored line left behind from your wrist to your palm. Happy to find your surprise growing along with a flustered expression joining your features.

"S-Sanji?" You manage to squeak out in a slightly stammered voice. Clearly unexpecting of the action as heat quickly crawls to your cheeks and ears. Pleased by your reaction he decides to continue in his ministrations both to see how far he could go with this and for his own desires. A quiet groan rumbling from his chest at the taste of the popsicle combined with your skin.

The feel of his facial hair against the skin of your hand. Those grey-blue eyes staring dead straight into your own almost daring you to look away as he drinks in your every expression. And his lips parted to make room for the wetness of his tongue to travel across your skin in a manner that sends your thoughts to a similar trajectory of his own. It was a sight that seared into your mind, making you suck in a sharp breath and and ache to pool in your lower stomach. While you hadn't known how you had affected him and what had caused him to suddenly become so bold he was well aware of what he had done to you. Knowing exactly what affect his purposeful movement had done from the look on your face.

One thing became crystal clear at the end of the day, and that is that you'd both be the death of each other.

[anotherhumaninthisworld]

Apart from C-A Prieur, did anyone else in the CSP remain a friend with Lazare Carnot after Thermidor?

I think @aedesluminis and @sieclesetcieux are better suited to answer this than I am, I’m generally pretty unfamiliar with the Office CPS dynamics (I honestly don’t even know which of the members were friends of Carnot beforethermidor). But I’ve at least managed to dig out the following:

In volume 3 of his memoirs, Barère writes that he, following getting relieved of his legislative duties, wrote two or three letters to Carnot expressing some ideas on European politics and the power of the Directory, but that Carnot expressed no interest towards neither the letters or the man Barère had sent to hand them over. ”From this time my correspondence with the Director Carnot ceased; he either could, or would, do nothing for me, he forgot me altogether, and himself disappeared soon afterwards from this disunited, ill-matched, and utterly incapable Directory.”

Barère also writes that he in 1800, after having returned to Paris, had dinner with Fouché and Lamarque, ending with another encounter with Carnot: 

After dinner Lamarque told me that he wished to be reconciled to Carnot. I thought that the circumstances were favourable for the reconciliation of true patriots, as misfortune ought to unite all shades of opinion. I went to Carnot, and introduced to him my friend Lamarque, who had defended me during my proscription from the tribune of the Five Hundred.  "No doubt," replied Carnot ironically, "but he was the president of that council when I was transported as a member of the Directory." I perceived somewhat too late that there are some men whose memory is too good, and we parted rather disconcerted at this misunderstanding.

Later that year, Barère claims Carnot walked in on him and Napoleon having a conversation, and tried to help Barère obtain a position in the new regime: 

The conversation had reached this point when the Minister of War, Carnot, arrived with his portfolio to work with the First Consul. To give Carnot his due, he seemed very pleased to see me in close conversation with Bonaparte. He thought when he saw us tete-a-tete in the audience chamber that I was about to be appointed to some important office. In a few moments he said to the First Consul: "General, can you not usefully employ the talents of Citizen Barère?" The First Consul, who certainly had no desire to do so, and who had only offered me a miserable editorship, was silent, either because he did not choose to be catechised by one of his ministers, or because he had no favourable reply to make. I saw his embarrassment, and I replied to Carnot: "The First Consul would like to make me a bard to celebrate the glorious exploits of his warriors; but the age of Ossian has passed." This reply appeared to displease the First Consul, and I took my leave, considering myself very fortunate to have escaped being requisitioned as a journalist.

Collot d’Herbois mentioned Carnot once in his defence written 1795, attesting that the latter was hardworking. However, it doesn’t exactly tell us anything regarding if the two had stayed in touch or not:

I hastily ate a frugal meal every day in the vicinity of the committee. Carnot was forced to do the same, as was Prieur (de la Cote-d'Or.) They know of my assiduousness; only theirs and that of Lindet could surpass it.

As for Saint-André, I could find nothing when searching for ”Carnot” within the 1848 work Jean-Bon Saint-André, sa vie et ses écrits by Michel Nicolas. The same thing when searching for him Billuad-Varennes — mémoires et correspondance (1893)

That leaves us with Lindet and Prieur de la Marne, both of whom have left so little written material behind that I can’t say anything for the moment… There might be something in Notes et souvenirs inédits de Prieur de la Marne, but I don’t have access to those…

[itsagrimm]

König is a bit nerdy

He might be an active, intimidating, focused and somewhat private man during missions but that basically goes out of the window as soon as he returns home.

Big into board games. It's his main friend circle and they meet up every time he gets back for a night of pizza and a new addition of Carcassonne, Munchkin or CATAN. König would love to play more Pen & Paper style of games as well but since he is in town so irregularly they never really do it.

Listens to audiobooks when traveling because it's easier than to pack all those tons of Sci-Fi and Fantasy books he is into. Currently re-'reads' Eragon because of the nostalgia.

Oh, he likes dragons (obviously).

Owns a closet full of costumes for Mittelalter Märkte / Renaissance Fairs. Also owns a traditional tent and everything else needed for a good LARP. Is 1000000% down for a couples costume.

König has the traditional not-leaving-the-house-for-a-day-when-coming-back-moment to play his favourite game (a certain AAA shooter). Due to the lack of practice and unfamiliarity with the map he isn't the best at it, which his teammates who know him irl tease him mercilessly about. Also, he prefers the sniper position and puts hours into decorating his avatar.

Used to be an avid reddit user. But got annoyed by some incels and left.

Likes going on bookstore dates with his S/O. Also really enjoys some quiet time with them just doing parallel play while being close.

Extremely specific about his keyboard preferences and cap designs. Generally enjoys researching how to improve his set up.

Treasures his old DS and was extremely happy about it turning on and working fine when he found it in an old box at his parents house.

Definitely has done the naruto run during a workout at home.

Can give a 45 minutes impro presentation about something Star Wars related. Will never grow tired of mocking Star Wars, it's a complicated relationship.

Always travels back home to Austria via Germany because the books are cheaper there and he stocks up especially on Mangas and Comics instead of paying an obscene amount for the shipping.

Has played Pathologic.

Has finished Pathologic.

Will not shut up about Pathologic. Yes, his S/O is very used to getting infodumped.

Currently learns polish to read the Witcher books in the original.

Owns and unironically uses themed kitchen utensils from his most beloved franchises. During Christmas time he brings out an absurd amount of cookie cutters for Plätzchen in fantasy themes like swords and witches. And in summer he serves up ice cubes in Death Star shapes. Has a very frilly apron because it reminds him of cliche anime stuff and he thinks him wearing it is funny. (he is right, it looks ridiculous and barely covers his chest.)

Can and will become extremely serious and intimidating again should someone say something sexist or racist or generally mean in his vicinity. He is here to enjoy himself with some nerdy shit with the people he cares about and not here to witness a hate crime or aggressions. He knows too much about that already from work and will become A TREAT if necessary. Don't try that shit around him otherwise you will be faced with spitting-fire-soldier-König and not goofy-nerd-at-home-König.

Likes cute shaped foods and always gets himself or his S/O to try out or as a gift.

Should he ever have kids they will have the most down to play games dad. They will grow up in a house filled with playful things and toys. And reading fairy tales with doing-all-the-voices-König becomes a nightly routine.

[droplet-dread-cat]

Not a single moment goes by where I don't think about Sampo "volunteering" at Belobog's museum

like, listen... he has the (technically second, since he has 93 points and a random NPC has 94 but still) highest tour duration and the actual highest education value stats but absolutely zero visitor appeal

this means whenever he's uh... "helping out" (aka being forced to work by the Trailblazer) he's constantly side-eyed and sneered at and just generally avoided but when someone accidentally catches wind of how interesting his tour actually is, they can't help but stay and listen as Sampo tells them about the history of, idk, art theft linked to the paintings that are currently displayed on the wall and I feel like they don't even notice for just how long they've listened before Sampo declares the tour's end

or maybe the tours are all equally long so the tour duration stat just states how many hours in a month that character is volunteering - which I'd honestly prefer in that case, since it'd mean Sampo's basically working an entire job at the museum

it's just... aaaaah, it's such a great starting point for an AU

Museum Tourguide!Sampo AU

imagine the Trailblazer hiring both Sampo and Gepard (who btw has the second highest education value out of the non-NPC characters behind Sampo, the second highest appeal at 83 points right behind the Supreme Guardian herself who has 85, but a tour duration of 5) for the art section of the museum

first of all Gepard constantly looks like he's swallowed a lemon when he's catching sight of Sampo just casually working.

secondly, this is a great set-up. not even from a shipping perspective. there'd be an inevitable rivalry of knowledge between the two - imagine they're working five metres apart from each other and when people come to Gepard for questions (let's be real, no-one goes to Mr. Cold Feet for answers), Sampo will just shout it over the heads of the visitors and Gepard, once again, will be livid af. like it's growing into a game of who can answer the fastest and they oftentimes have disputes, since Gepard obviously only knows the official stories and not the dirty bits that Sampo can bring to light.

in any case, apart from the work dynamic with Gepard, Sampo also has to interact with Uldan, this no-nonsense gramps who was instructed by the Trailblazer to "fend off Sampo's wandering fingers" - every time Sampo tries to pickpocket someone, Uldan will play up the senile grandpa act and do a whole bit where he acts like Sampo's his actual (grand)son, making it virtually impossible for Sampo to commit any crimes within his vicinity because Uldan will just scold him super loud, like "I didn't raise you like that, young man!"

and the thing is. Sampo is good at this whole volunteer thing. he excels at it, in fact, and I feel like with every tour he guides he enjoys it more and the people, too, grow to appreciate him more the longer he works at the museum. we all know where this is headed, right? there comes a point in time where Sampo doesn't follow a lead or initiate contact with a potential client and instead heads to the museum to cover a shift. I'm definitely not saying he gives up on his ways entirely but in my mind he inevitably becomes an actual staff member. sooner or later, Uldan's going to ask him to stay permanently and I mean, come on, the angst potential? the questioning of morals and identity? the realization that he wants to work a legitimate job? come oooooon

[reikunrei]

It's Always the Dad

Yes, we have another installment of comparing Stranger Things and Doctor Who! Today we'll be going through:

Season 1, Episode 8: Father's Day

The general premise of this episode is Rose and the Doctor going back in time to the day her dad, Pete, was killed in a hit-and-run accident. Initially, she just wanted to be there for him during his passing, since he died alone with no one around. However, in a split-second decision, Rose runs out and pushes him out of the way, thus saving him. This causes a "wound" in time, as the Doctor puts it, which summons creatures called Reapers that start killing and "consuming" everything in the vicinity. It even makes the Tardis unusable, leaving them stranded with no way out and no clear method to fix things.

Immediately getting hit with the name Peter is soooo... even getting an Alan in there?? Anyway.

We open on a flashback of Rose as a young child talking to her mother, Jackie, about Pete. Jackie mentions that how, when he died, "I only wish there'd been someone there for him." Now Rose, in the present day, talks to the Doctor about how she wishes she could be that someone, and asks if he could take her to him. He agrees, but when the moment comes, Rose freezes up and Pete dies before she can go comfort him.

She asks if she can try again, but the Doctor warns her that they have to be very careful this time. He says it's dangerous having two sets of them there at the same time, though he doesn't elaborate further than that, instead simply warning her that, while she doesn't "have to do anything [she] [doesn't] want to," this is the last chance they'll have, as they won't be able to come back a third time without it getting risky.

However, overcome with the sudden understanding that she could save her dad, Rose runs out before Pete's been hit by the car, exposing herself to the past versions of Rose and the Doctor, and shoves him out of the way as the car peels off around the corner. The past Rose and Doctor disappear and Rose introduces herself to Pete, who notes how it's a "coincidence," seeing as she shares a name with his baby daughter.

Blurting out that she knows of the wedding Pete was on his way to, she goes with the Doctor and Pete back to his apartment to finish getting ready. We then get an overhead shot, shrouded in red, of the city from the eyes of an unseen creature.

Obviously, what Rose did was bad. Really bad. But we have yet to see the full damage, and first get this exchange between her and the Doctor at Pete's apartment.

Rose protests, saying that now her dad is alive, that what she did was a good thing, but the Doctor counters with the fact that his entire race of people is dead and "Do you think it never occurred to me to go back and save them?" Rose further argues, saying that it's not like she "changed history" in a meaningful way.

Obviously this jumps out in conjunction with Vecna's "he was an ordinary, mediocre man" comment about Brenner. The idea of Pete being important because he's ordinary will come up again later in this episode, and it's something I've spoken of before in some of my prior DW posts.

This concept is present in Stranger Things, and, notably, for the most part, it is presented as a very good thing. It's often highlighted that our protagonists are underdogs and outcasts, specifically people who, while on the fringes, are still very ordinary. They're messy, they're imperfect, and characters like El, who are extraordinary, have a desire to become ordinary, or at the very least to just fit in and live as normal a life they can lead. Characters like El and Henry and the other lab kids are put on pedestals for their abilities, but we're shown time and again that it's really not all it's cracked up to be, especially if they want to be able to exist out in the world and be loved for who they are, not for what they can offer.

This does then, however, quite neatly lead me back around to Brenner. Our protagonists are shown to be ordinary, but so are our antagonists. Everyone in Stranger Things is just someone, and that means everyone. No one character is any more "special" than another, and that's a core facet of the entire show. And again, I mean everyone. Even the bad guys. Even Vecna. They are all ordinary.

Thus, our "good guys" and our "bad guys" are put in the same camp. They're equated to one another. Therefore, one can't simply be cast aside, because doing so entirely undermines the other and strips the story of one of its load-bearing columns.

When it comes to Brenner, as I spoke about in this post analyzing another episode, this idea leads me to believe that we're meant to deeply humanize Brenner. Brenner is said to be seeking out greatness in others in order to uplift himself, in order to make himself extraordinary, and while Vecna makes his "...ordinary, mediocre..." statement as a means to knock Brenner out at the knees, I believe it's also meant as a way to ground him in with all the other characters in the show. If our "big bad," the guy who created the Child Torture Basement, is "ordinary," then what does that make the rest of us? Certainly not worse than him, but not better either.

Moving back to the DW episode, the spat between the Doctor and Rose continues, and we get this gem of a back-and-forth that (combined with the last screenshot in the previous collage) reads very much like the byler rain fight scene and thus also the brennry argument in TFS (which you can see side-by-side comparisons of here from @henrysglock).

Even with the pseudo-"you'll come crawling back" line? Please.

So, the Doctor storms off, leaving Rose with Pete, who tries to comfort her about her "boyfriend" walking out on her.

Tell me I don't need to get into detail with this. Even the stuff with the loony bin? Come on, now... Even the little comment about the Bermuda Triangle, which is something @aemiron-main has cooking up in a post somewhere/has spoken about it personally with me in the past... wrow.

Then we cut to the church where the aforementioned wedding is taking place, where multiple people comment that so many guests are "missing." In a prior scene, we got more of those red overhead shots followed by people in the city being snatched up by our unseen danger. The groom's father jokes with the groom about how it's not too late for him to back out.

Of course we combine time being weird with it getting cold and a “turn back the clock” line… sure.

While driving to the wedding, Pete asks Rose how she knows Jackie, and Rose says that Jackie, when talking about Pete, says she "picked the most wonderful man in the world." Pete scoffs at this, saying, "Must be a different Jackie, then. She'd never say that." This is something Rose finds odd, but I'll talk about it more in-depth and my thoughts on it later.

They're interrupted by the radio suddenly changing channels, which begins playing a rap song that Rose recognizes as having not been released yet in 1987. She pulls out her cell phone to check her messages and presumably call the Doctor, but all she gets is a repeated voice saying, "Watson, come here. I need you." Then, the car that almost ran Pete over earlier appears in the rear view mirror before disappearing.

Pete and Rose pull up at the chapel, and, again, the car appears out of nowhere and nearly runs into them.

Then Jackie comes over and immediately begins a row with Pete while Rose just gawks. The following screenshots are a collection rather than the shot-for-shot, line-by-line progression because... boy she has words.

Jackie has always been fiery and hot-headed, so this isn't exactly out of character for her, but Rose is shocked by the fact that they're fighting so terribly when all Jackie ever told her growing up was that Pete was wonderful and they were happy. Briefly after this, Rose does see them sort of "make up" and have a firm but more civil conversation about Jackie being upset about their instability and Pete promising things will get better, but even after that, she's still very short with him and insults him repeatedly.

While, obviously, it's not the same situation, it made me think of what 001 partially monologues about in 4.07, wherein he complains that while his family put on this happy, perfect image, it was all a veneer to hide how dysfunctional they really were. In DW, Jackie, after his death, spoke highly of Pete, possibly so Rose wouldn't think poorly of him (though, knowing Jackie, I'd say it was also partially to soothe herself lol). When Rose was at their apartment, she saw all of his awards and accolades on display while, in the modern day, they're all boxed up and tucked away. Rose commented on all of Pete's entrepreneurial goods scattered around the house, and though Jackie spoke exasperatedly of it all, it's framed very much as a fond exasperation. Meanwhile, in this chapel scene, it's clear that Jackie vehemently hates it.

I still need to do some exploring through more episodes of DW, but I have a little hunch that aspects of Rose's character and arcs may have been at least partial inspiration for the Creels and Henry specifically, so seeing this family dysfunction crop up had my radar beeping a little faster.

We then get a brief scene of several children at a nearby playground being snatched up one at a time by our red-tinted villains, and one boy races around to the church shouting about monsters "going to eat us!" and one of the other wedding guests asks, "What sort of monsters, sweetheart? Is it aliens?" and several of the adults laugh. Okay.

At this point, we've also been made aware that the Tardis is out of service. The Doctor, after having left Rose at the apartment, finds that the Tardis is empty, just looking like a normal police call box on the inside. He races back to where Rose is (he goes crawling back!), finding her at the church and yelling for her to get inside as we get a first look at our monsters.

They're giant bat-like creatures, of course, because what else would they be, that swoop down and consume several guests (including the pastor) on the outer steps of the church while everyone else races inside to safety.

Rose, babygirl, quit saying Henry words.

The Doctor is also given the groom's father's cell phone, which is also receiving that "Watson, come here. I need you" interference. The Doctor excitedly says that that's "the very first phone call" from Alexander Graham Bell. I'm sure you picked up on it when I mentioned it before, but evidently with this "wound" in time, we're getting a "bleeding" effect where time is sort of overlapping. The area is now unstable because of the way Rose interfered, so we're getting snippets from long before and after 1987.

This makes me think of all the stuff with anachronisms in ST, which has been spoken about heavily by Em and others, specifically in posts like this one irt TFS. This "bleeding" phenomenon is even present on-screen, specifically with the newspapers that Nancy and Robin read at the library, given that they see a newspaper with the name Edward Creel in it, yet they come to only verbally mention Henry. While we're not sure why this is happening in ST yet, as it's used here in DW, it's meant to be a hint toward an overlap/collapse in time and space. Therefore, who's to say it's not something similar, or at least some hint at general instability, in ST?

I also want to briefly highlight the religious undertones we get within this episode, due to the fact that the majority of it takes place inside the church. We already had that one shot I posted earlier of the groom and his father talking, in which we get a prolonged moment on the stained glass window depicting the crucifixion of Jesus followed by the comment of it being "cold." Here, now with everyone hiding inside, we get this shot of the shadow of one of the Reapers through the same window.

This happens several times through the episode across all the windows of the church, but this one is especially pointed and instantly makes me think of all of the TFS promo that heavily favored religious imagery, as well as the recent ST5 leaks showing that a church will definitely be involved, even with UD vines covering it (Creel exorcism, anyone?). To bring it even closer to the MF, these shots of the Reapers remind me of the MF looking through the gate as El closes it in ST2.

We even get a moment later where the Doctor stands behind the pulpit in order to explain their plan to get the Tardis back. That paired with Brenner's Time Lord imagery, and even Mr. Newby in TFS originally being listed as Father Newby, sure had me raising my eyebrows.

Pete and the Doctor have a brief moment while they're going around making sure all the windows and doors are locked, wherein the Doctor spots the disappearing-reappearing car that almost hit Pete going around the corner. Pete catches a glimpse, but when he asks the Doctor what it was, the Doctor says it was nothing to worry about and moves on.

Then we get one of my favorite moments.

This had me jumping for joy because of the Fringe of it all. Spoilers ahead, but, in Fringe, after Peter Bishop was wiped from the universe, he was returned only for the universe around him to not shift to accommodate his presence again. While he still had all of his past memories, even ones that he shared with Walter and Olivia, nobody else had any of those shared memories. He wasn't inserted back into their world retroactively, he was just placed in the present as-is. In the original universe, Olivia and Peter were in a romantic relationship, but that ceased to exist when he was wiped, yet she begins acting like they're in a relationship and being affectionate. When Peter asks why she's doing that, she says she doesn't really know why, just that she knows she loves him even if she has none of the memories to go with it.

Earlier in this DW episode, in the screenshots I posted above shortly after the Doctor leaves, Pete admits he feels he knows Rose from somewhere. Deep down, he knows he's her dad, but he just had to see it.

Given that Fringe is a huge inspiration for ST, I was so pleased to see this concept crop up here too. It reminds me a lot of what we see in the NINA arc in ST4, wherein El is dropped in front of 001 and seems to almost instantly trust him with her life. She doesn't remember what happened, but she seems to know that she loves him and he loves her, which feels further aided by her lashing out at him when he appears "off" to her. Hell, even her still trying to break through to Vecna points to the idea that she knows she loves the man (allegedly) in there, and perhaps even knows more about the truth of the situation than she remembers/than what Brenner has led her to believe. She's being presented with the worst possible image of this person, but part of her still hesitates in condemning him.

Now let's return again to our lovely idea of ordinary being best. The Doctor is approached by the bride and groom of the wedding, and the bride asks if he'll save them.

While these people are deemed "ordinary" and they think themselves "unimportant," the Doctor protests. They have their own individual, unique lives and experiences, ones that he, by virtue of who and what he is, will never get to experience. This is a big reason why the Doctor, across the entire history of the DW series, always comes back to Earth. He's fascinated by humans, which is something I've spoken about before. It's very reminiscent of Gandalf being smitten by Hobbits in LotR.

I've already spoken about how our main characters in ST are deemed "outcasts" and "freaks," and while those monikers feel inherently at odds with the "ordinary" label I slapped on them earlier, the whole point of our main cast is that they're representative of “the everyman,” and they’re meant to be generally sympathetic to everyone in the audience. We're even shown the "ordinary" characters being anything but that (specifically thinking of Karen and how Nancy talks about her in ST1 compared to their conversation in ST3; and Jason being the "perfect boy" before he snaps and loses his head entirely; and, of course, the Creel family seeming picture-perfect before revealing in TFS that Virginia really was Like That with Henry). Point is, there's the "ordinary" we're told, and then the true "ordinary" we're shown.

The "ordinary", or "normal" as it's often dubbed in ST, we're told about it always a facade of some kind, and in fact almost everyone in ST is un-ordinary beneath the surface or due to varying circumstances. In short, this is an extremely long-winded way of, again, saying that there isn't really any "ordinary vs freaks," because everyone is on the same playing field.

So for just one second I want to be That Bitch and talk about how this made me think of the comparisons between Henry and Will, and the common fanon idea of bringing Will "up" to "Henry"'s "level" of supposed greatness by giving him world-altering powers. While I don't doubt that Will has some kind of ability that will aid them, especially given that he can still sense the Shadow when he's back in proximity of it, I find it quite a stretch to believe that he'll be given powers akin or adjacent to what El or Henry have.

While El often falls back on her powers to help/defend herself and others, we also see her crave a "normal" life and claim she "doesn't belong" because she's different (read: has/had powers and lived a wholly different life from her peers because of it). It's something that's heavily emphasized with Henry in TFS as well, with him claiming he's not "normal" and that something is wrong with him because of his affliction with the Shadow and his newfound powers he has yet to understand or control. His entire life has been turned upside down (ha ha), and flashes of medical reports in the play outline that he was a "normal" boy before his flaying in the (alleged) Nevada cave. Overall, the powers are framed as something undesirable that makes life harder than it already is for them.

Obviously everyone knows that Will's homosexuality and El's powers are meant to sort of parallel each other in this sense. And thus, I can kind of see the argument that, if he had powers of his own, this could be a way to tie it together. If he had powers of some kind, they could be another literal representation of his queerness or otherness that needs to be "accepted." However, I find that, to put it bluntly, completely pointless. Him being gay already represents him being gay. It feels demeaning to his arc to give him a proxy to accept himself through rather than just accepting himself... for himself.

Besides, we already have El grappling with the powers aspect on her own in her "am I the monster or the superhero?" struggle. She already has that whole idea covered, so why does Will need to take it from her? Why does he have to accept it first before she does?

Rather, as I've been discussing, I believe it's because Will is "ordinary" (read: doesn't have powers) that he'll be of greater help toward fixing things. He, along with El, very closely parallel Henry's life experiences, with El paralleling his time in the lab and Will paralleling his time outside of it/prior to it (which is something James has spoken of in the past, though I cannot find a post about it !!). However, it's less about them being the same and more about highlighting how they're different.

- Will's family stuck by his side and tried to help him while Henry's tossed him to the dogs. - Will had his life saved and the Shadow removed while Henry was left to fester with it for months, at the very least. - Will had a group of friends willing to give him the benefit of the doubt/help him when he was flayed while Henry never had someone listen to his side of the story, instead choosing to believe he really did everything of his own volition.

Therefore, it feels extremely logical to me to assume that Will would be left without profound powers like the ones Henry gained (which, for the record, we still don't know how he got). They're not meant to match each other beat for beat, but, as people, they're meant to highlight a disparity within society and what circumstances can do to a person. They share experiences, but they don't share outcomes.

I can't say all of this with complete confidence, obviously, as the Duffers haven't given us all the answers yet, but i feel very confident in my agreement with James, as I stated before, that El is meant to closely parallel Henry as a lab-kid and someone with powers, while Will is meant to closely parallel Henry pre-flaying and who he is without powers.

In short: having nothing "special" going on (aka not being a Time Lord or having psychic abilities) is not a detraction and, in fact, just being who you are is what makes someone exceptionally important.

Back to the episode!

The Doctor, in a moment of reprieve while he's trying to think of how to get everyone out of there, is tasked with keeping an eye on baby!Rose. Adult!Rose approaches, but the Doctor physically prevents her from touching her infant self. Doing so would cause a paradox, since they're the same person, and any further disturbance in time might make the Reapers strong enough to break into the church.

At this point, the Doctor is still miffed at Rose for having unintentionally caused all of this, and we get a fun moment where she snaps at him that she's "not stupid" and he responds with "could've fooled me." Hey, Russell T. Davies called, he wants his ST2 El and Hopper arguments back.

Ultimately, Rose apologizes, because she does feel guilty for causing this, and then the Doctor holds her face and hugs her... in the same way Pete just did not long ago but hey we don't need to unpack her love interest acting like her dad right now that's fine-

At this point, Pete still doesn't know he's supposed to have died, so he asks Rose if he and Jackie are still together in the future and if he's a good dad. Rose spins a tale that he read her a bedtime story every night and they all went out for a picnic every Saturday; that he was always someone she could really rely on. All Pete responds with is "That's not me."

I discussed this earlier, but while this does remind me of the whole "facade" thing we have going on in ST, it reminds me too of the idea of alternate selves and different timelines. Which, in the case of DW, I swear is not a stretch because later in season 2, Rose and the Doctor go to a parallel universe where they meet the Pete from that world, who didn't die, and ultimately becomes a great father figure to Rose.

Eventually, Pete figures out that he's meant to be dead. He sees the disappearing-reappearing car going in its loop around the corner, recognizing it as the one that almost ran him over, and on top of the weird way Rose has been acting with his questions and the cryptic way the Doctor keeps talking about how "the thing [Rose] changed will stay changed" (wow, cool TFS word), he finally puts the pieces together.

At this point, Jackie finally overhears Pete call himself Rose's dad, which they'd since been keeping a secret, and we get... uh

Sorry, this one really just made me laugh. Don't mention the lab child breeding program, it's fine.

She even balks at him calling her Rose, asking if he "calls them all Rose," because she assumes Rose is an affair partner and is disgusted that he'd give his own daughter a "second-hand name" from his mistress. I can't even get into this, I just have to move on.

Pete, in his attempt to get her to understand that they're the same Rose, makes to hand baby!Rose to adult!Rose. Too late for Rose or the Doctor to stop it, they touch, and the paradox gives one of the Reapers enough strength to make its way into the church. The Doctor puts himself between the Reaper and the rest of the people, saying that he's "the oldest thing in here" and thus just what the Reaper would want most. It consumes him and disappears, and Rose cries that he's dead and the whole world is over because of her.

Pete, however, realizes what he's meant to do. He tells Rose that he's going to sacrifice himself and complete what was meant to be completed. He even convinces Jackie that Rose is their daughter, and the three of them have an incredibly somber moment.

My leaking tear ducts aside, the "extra hours" reminded me of some weird language that comes up in TFS, specifically something Brenner says to Henry about his "missing hours." Pete gets extra hours outside of "real hours," hours that were never meant to happen, like how Henry may have “lost hours” without actually losing time, if that makes sense. It even makes me think about NINA and how 001 very well be sentient in there, at least to some degree, and therefore would he feel like interacting with El in there was like getting "extra hours" with his daughter?

James has also spoken to me about how time moves strangely in TFS, and not even in the sense that "it's a play and that's just sort of how the transitions within that medium work." Specifically, he's pointed out how the days and scenes bleed into each other in ways like Henry's skipping around hours (which, coincidentally, is similar to a phenomenon that occurs in another DW episode I've spoken about). A really obvious example is Henry in the attic scene in which "he" kills Prancer, wherein it should be at night/before bed. However, when he comes out of it, Virginia is knocking on the attic door telling him it's 9:45 and they need to go to church. Henry even squeaks "in the morning!?", just as shocked as we are to learn an entire night has passed in such a brief sequence of events.

Also I don't have any real commentary on the rest of it other than I would Die if we get a similar exchange between Victor and Henry, or Henry and El, or something. Pretty please. Something something you have to be your dad, but for good. Something something doing everything they can to save their children.

With no other feasible plan, Pete leaves the church and rushes to the street corner, where he steps out in front of the car and allows himself to be hit. This time, Rose does go to him, and holds his hand as he passes. As soon as he dies, the Reapers vanish, time stops going wonky, and everyone who'd been consumed is returned, Doctor included.

Now, we get another flashback like the start of the episode, with Jackie talking to kid Rose, but this time the story of Pete has slightly changed. Jackie says that the guy who hit him was just a kid, it wasn't his fault, because Pete just stepped out into the road. Jackie even mentions a "girl" who stayed with Pete until he died, and then she just... was gone, and they never found out who she was.

Oh yeah btw peep that date lol lmao.

This I thought was really interesting. Sometimes the trope of “history has to say the same” can become boring and predictable when there’s no way around a specific outcome. However, when it’s done well, it’s done well. I don’t think this is one of the best ever examples of this, but I did find it very intriguing that, while the same outcome occurred (Pete was killed), the situation surrounding it has been slightly recontextualized.

Where Jackie once lied (strong word, but you get the point) that Pete was the most wonderful man in the world, now he really was the most wonderful man in the world because he decided to correct the error that was made and save the world by sacrificing himself. It should be noted that, iirc, no one remembers what actually happened because Pete essentially just reset the timeline to where it’s supposed to be.

It’s something I could very easily see occurring, at least in a symbolic sense, in ST, especially what with the truth of Henry’s situation being so murky. Even if it’s without an attempt to “change” things, simply the act of looking at what happened through a different lens can make everything click into place.

Now I just want to wrap this up with some final odds and ends of what various parts of this episode reminded me of irt ST that I haven’t touched on yet.

At the start of the episode, we learn that Rose’s motive for visiting her dad on the day of his death is so she can simply be someone who’s there for him when he passes; she doesn’t want him to be alone. The concept of loneliness is not unfamiliar to ST, and it’s especially on the nose with Henry and Patty in TFS, and comes up fairly frequently with characters like Will, Mike, and El on-screen. We see it in scripts for ST4 with Brenner, and we get it in ST1 with Joyce berating Jonathan for doing things alone. It all comes back to community and support. Being with someone to curb their loneliness can make all the difference, especially when it’s genuine. Especially especially when someone is going through something scary and otherworldly.

And that’s the whole point, isn’t it? Being there for each other, even in our worst moments?

This isn’t a form of compassion that’s exclusive to “the good guys” either. As I said above, the plague of loneliness even affects Brenner, and even a character like Vecna, who’s been trapped alone in the UD for years, probably just needs a good shoulder to lean on for once.

Henry, as per TFS, didn’t really have anyone. We’re told about a boy (or two) in Nevada who very likely was close to him, but he’s otherwise very reclusive from his family (at least post-flaying). When he meets Patty, he latches on the moment he finds her compatible and, despite her mistreatment of him, he doesn’t let go. He’s finally not alone anymore, and even if it resulted in disaster, he wanted it to work. There were just too many outside forces at play convoluting things. All he needed was someone to be there for him with genuine intentions, and I believe that’s something he will receive, come ST5.

I also want to touch on Rose having to “try again” at the start of the episode. I don’t have too much to say about this, but it did make me think of James’s theories irt Henward possibly having turned back the clock in order to save himself. Something about going into it with neutral-to-good intentions, only for something to go wrong and bring it all crashing down. Not that we know for certain if that’s what’s going on with Henry, but there’s something in the continuous tragedy of his life and the earnest attempt at making things better, only for it to go much, much worse, and having to return to the un-ideal square one.

It doesn’t even have to just be about Henry doing it to himself. Someone else might be sticking themselves in, toying with timelines, in an attempt to help Henry, only for other, unknown forces to muck it all up. But now we’re getting a bit into James’s territory, so you can just chew on that concept a bit. The last thing I’ll say on it is I did find Rose seeking out her dad reminiscent of TFS Brenner seeking out answers to his father’s experience in Dimension X, but alas, I’m running out of steam.

Exploring this DW episode wasn’t much anything new, but I found it very satisfying to see even more concepts confirmed and expanded upon that I’ve spoken about in my other posts, as well as touching on ideas that my friends have talked about before. Overall, I’ve reached the conclusion that I need to explore more of Rose’s episodes and see what’s up lol. There's even more within this episode I could pull on further, but a lot of it is just pointing at the words that are said and going "that's the words!!! the words from the show!!!" so. Sort of an "iykyk" situation atp. But! Lots to chew on, and likely more to come in the future!