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prettyboykatsuki · 1 year ago

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ROTTEN FRUIT, CHERISHED SWORD | TARTAGLIA / AJAX

✮ tags ; fem!reader, dead dove: do not eat, yandere!childe, genshin canon adjacent, stalking, force, mild depictions of violence / physical struggle, mild injury, delusion, obsession, forced intimacy (one instance, not nsfw just kissing), choking, blood (reader bites), small age gap, power imbalance / power struggle, reader is a street orphan + member of the fatui 18+

✮ wc ; 6.3k

✮ a/n ; thank you to the beloved @bitchkiss for commissioning this from me and allowing me to post!! had a lot of fun with writing it. i have a few left of my first round but i hope to open them again soon.

✮synopsis ; childe can’t tolerate the fact you’ve left. he has no intentions of letting things stay that way.

It’s the most intimate moment you’ve shared together. Childe recognizes this with a bitter sense of irony. The soft spritz of oil from a ripe orange stains his fingers, noiseless and fragrant as it tickles the back of his throat.

You’re formal to the very end. You’re standing across from him, between you his desk (though it feels like miles) with your badge sat on the glazed cherry wood. Spick and span, so shiny it borders dazzling even though you’ve been wearing since you started so many years ago. Like you’ve taken care of it with honor, even though it’s not much more than a carved hunk of metal.

You bow your head first, then give the Fatui salute in a well-practiced steady motion. Childe keeps peeling the orange. Childe looks down at the desk and stares indignantly at your badge. 6 years together, and you’re leaving him.

He clenches his jaw, and he can feel some of the blood in his veins make his nerves throb.

“Thank you for everything, Captain,” Your voice is smooth as you speak, not a hint of devastation in it “From today on, I will no longer be serving the Fatui Harbingers.”

He finishes peeling his orange and discards the peel in a nearby bin, before sitting on the edge of his desk. He blinks, feeds himself a slice of fruit, chews and swallows before talking. He’s worked hard. It calms his nerves to go through each gesture slowly. He shouldn’t ruin it like this, even though the anger building inside him stokes every time you talk.

“Pierro has approved your dismissal?”

“Yes, Captain. Due to my great contribution to the Fatui and my involvement in the early seize of Snezhnaya, I’ve been permitted permission to depart.” You repeat, still not lifting your eyes to look directly at him. You’re focused on his steel-toed boots, a mark of your life as a soldier “I’ll be issued a new identity and sent somewhere overseas.”

“And what do you plan on doing once you leave?”

“I’m hoping to look for my master.”

“You mean the man who taught you the sword?”

“Yes, Sir,” You reply, voice softening. How agitating it is you hold so much affection for that worthless old man “I owe him a great deal. I’d like to contribute something of my savings towards his living expenses,”

“Well aren’t you loyal? I commend your efforts to be searching for him so many years later. Any leads?”

“No Captain, none,” You say, and then another wave of emotion passes through you “But if my memory serves me, he’d be living somewhere in the jungles of Sumeru.”

“What an odd change of pace,”

“He never liked the cold in Snezhnaya.”

Childe gives you a tight lipped smile that you don’t catch since you’re still looking down. He sighs, words muffled as he eats another slice and clicks his teeth.

“Still so impersonal with me,” He chastises, pushing his bottom lip out in a frustrated pout “After all we’ve been through together. Lift your chin up, at least?”

This is the only thing that gets you to look at him. You do as he asks without hesitation - not out of submission but loyalty. Your smile is small, humble, thankful. Childe feels strange looking at it. Your usual coolness fades, tapers itself into a warm and graceful set of features. It’s worn.

Your joy is weathered and battered, bruised by countless atrocities.

In more ways than one, it’s the thing Childe loves most about you.

Childe knows the details of how you’re stained. Like a toddlers plush toy that goes everywhere with them, it is easy to tell that something has happened to you. But, to be loved is to be changed, isn’t it? There’s nothing wrong with being different. So long as it’s him making you different. So long as he’s the one who orchestrates it, enough to bend but never enough to break. Childe knows you. It’s the job of a captain to train his soldiers. It makes his feelings towards you more potent, how well you can endure even the worst of it. You’re not timid, not fearful.

Your eyes are as crystal clear with honesty as they were the day you met.

Even bruised, even anguished, even tortured - there is something about you—so stark in your earnesty. You remind Childe of the fireflies he’d seen in the lands of Sumeru some time ago. To keep you in a tight glass, sealed off from flying far from his reach. The brightness that seems to surround you makes him reach for you even in the bitter dark. He’d never want to suffocate you so he pokes holes in the lids. Lets you breathe, lets you see the world outside of glass.

If a firefly spends enough time in captivity, glass walls can become religion. A widely accepted belief, indoctrinated certainly. There’s something to see but nowhere to go. That’s always what he wanted you to believe.

Had it all been for nothing in the end? The thought is sour, makes his mouth tighten like he’s swallowed rotten fruit.

“Sorry, Sir. Force of habit. I really am very grateful to have met you. You’ve saved my life more times than I can count.”

“And yet you abandon me like this. I’m really hurt, you know? Didn’t what we had mean something to you?”

You crack a pleasant smile - it’s a rare right, and it’s always genuine. You’re usually icier than the blizzards in Snezhnaya, the same neutral expression has stayed on your face for as long as he’s known you. You’ve been like that since you were 17. Back then you were much more hardened. He doesn’t blame you. A street urchin, robbing and stealing for food and shelter. Childe knows the story like the back of his hand.

When you met for the first time - your hair was cut short and your clothes were so baggy. It was impossible to tell back that you were a person, no less a woman - you felt like one entangled body of anger.

The Tsaritsa would’ve killed you had you not shown such great prowess. Underneath all the filth was a vision. A vision of Anemo, and incredible precision in wielding the ways of wind.

You’d gained useful skills during your time on the streets. But you were unpolished and violent. The Fatui watched you like a storm cloud lingering over the horizon. A typhoon waiting to swallow the world the minute you had the chance.

Back then, Childe wasn’t fascinated with you in the way he is now. You were just a brat he had to train. Pierro had put you into his possession on the basis of Childe’s cruelty. It was an endurance test and Childe had always believed you would fail. He’d put you through countless trials, each one more merciless than the last. Your expression never faltered, never changed, never suffered.

The first time Childe noticed you was after the death of your comrade. You were 18 then and it was the first time you’d ever lost someone you’d been attached to. The expression you wore - rough, hard, emotionless, crumbled into pieces in front of him. You cried at a shallow grave, the first and last time he’d ever seen such an expression in his life. Back then, he only comforted you out of curiosity. What exactly would you do?

But you braved your face. Despite all he’d put you through, you bore no resentment towards him at all. You’d wiped the tears off of your expression and looked at him solemnly. Silent but thankful and terribly honest.

It’s that honesty that drew him towards you.

You were angry, sure - but your righteousness made you different. Unlike the many street rats lurking in the Fatui, driven by money or greed - you were driven by simple things. You hated owing favors. You could be polished into something beautiful. Something interesting, more so than the rest of Fatui goons that flitted around him like gnats.

He’d spent the last 6 years doing just that. Not always intentionally, but always careful.

You’ve grown into something beautiful - poised while being unruly. A mortal paradox that he’s grown to be more fascinated by each passing year. He’s taken time to know the things that make you tick.

Yet you're leaving. He didn’t chain you by the neck fast enough in his attempts to be careful and now you’ve taken your own leash and walked right out of his grip. A shame. Childe is really so hurt by such a thing.

He doesn’t let it show on his face of course. You’ll be remorseful if you see him, but the pity won’t soothe his feelings this time. He has to remain calm so he puts on this delightful act to hide the hurt.

“I suppose you do mean a lot to me, Captain. In a different way.”

“Well,” He steps towards you, but you don’t back away. The proximity, strangely, doesn’t bother you. You are only this permissive towards him, and he counts it as a minor celestial blessing. He doesn’t know if you trust him that much or if you are simply naive. Maybe both. Maybe neither

“What way is that, pray tell? Maybe it will soothe my sorrows.”

“Well, you’re the only person I truly knew and admired. If that counts for anything,” You flush when you tell him this “My master was a great man but all things considered he was more like a father. But I really think very highly of you and your abilities, Sir.”

“What a nice girl you’ve become.” He says back, just to see the startled flush on your features “Isn’t that something?”

You make a face at him, displeased. It almost distracts him from how irritated he feels when he remembers why you started with this conversation in the first place.

“You talk about me like I’m a kid,” You show him just the slightest bit of attitude. It’s a step in the right direction, sends a chill up Childe’s back that he doesn’t dislike in the slightest “I’m all grown up alright? Don’t look down on me.”

He gasps in faux offense “I would never. It’s strange, you know? You’ve changed a lot. I don’t hate it though,” He gives you a once over - hands you a slice of orange. You lean down and grab it with your teeth, chewing and swallowing.

It’s those little acts of naivety that draw him to you most.

“When are you meant to depart, my dear subordinate?”

“Probably within the week,” Your voice is just a touch somber. “After I’ve got everything moved, this may very well be the last time we see each other.”

“It’s a shame then, really. I would’ve preferred being your comrade for much longer than this.”

“We’ll always be comrades, Captain.” You salute him one more time, this time with a smile “I’ll never be able to forget you.”

“You’d better not.” He says with a deep sigh, making you laugh.

Yes, it’s not as if Childe was ever really going to let you.

You disappear from his sight in an instant.

The first few weeks after your absence, Childe buries himself in his work. Pierro praises him for his sudden loyalty to the harbingers - but carrying orders is the only way he can work out his frustration without taking it out on civilians.

He plans from the day you leave to find you eventually. But he knows from the start it’ll be no easy feat. The nature of the business is that relocations are hard to come by and top-secret. If someone is to relocate and change their identity, no one in the Fatui knows where they end up. The only person who’s informed about the drop off locations is Pierro, and it’s not like he’s going to hand that information to Childe regardless.

But that’s different from knowing exactly where you’ve relocated. You’re a smart girl - too clever and too familiar with the Fatui to let them handle something of such importance. Your agreement was this: new money, new documents, new identity - but re-establishing your life would be completely and totally up to you. It makes sense. You’ve gained an incredulous amount of enemies in your time working in Childe’s care - and the matter of relocation is a delicate one. Most of the Fatui are deeply hated across Teyvat.

You’d have to relocate somewhere small where you can make use of your skills or survive on your own. If Childe knows you at all, you would’ve chosen the latter. A self-sustained life where you don’t have to depend on anyone unnecessarily suits you well. After all the blood and gore you bore witness too, isolation was like a second skin.

From the minute you disappear from his line of vision - Childe thinks about finding you. He thinks about what he’ll have to do to make it reality, and what will happen when he does. The minute you’re within his reach, he won’t be foolish enough to let you go again.

There won’t be any concerns about morals or abuse of power - this time, Childe will possess you completely.

Pierro tells Childe: There's a recruitment mission, it will take up to a year and you’ll be traveling all over the world to carry out various orders.

It’s bait. Pierro just wants Childe to get his hands dirty, and he knows that the 11th won’t be able to resist the temptation of finding you. Childe agrees despite knowing this. There is no order he can’t fulfill, no thing he can’t commit too - if it means there’s any chance to find you again.

If it’s for you, he can do anything.

___

For months, Childe soaks his hands in blood trying to find you.

Cheap intel is easy to come by but reliable intel is not.

His first mission in Mondstat. A small nation and one of peace - it’s difficult to stir up any trouble there when Diluc is around. Childe does his best to steer clear of him, since there’s no group the Dark Knight detests so much as the Fatui.

Recruitment in a small, quiet nation happens in slums. Orphanages are prime for this endeavor. A proxy pays a fee for adoption prices and word of the Fatui spreads through the darker corners of the city. Once the word of their presence spreads far enough, another message follows. The Fatui will pay greatly for intel. They’re looking for a woman in her early 20’s. If the information proves reliable, you’ll be paid a hefty sum.

Mondstadt, the city of peace, lives up to its name. The Fatui occupation of the slums doesn’t disrupt anything in the local government. It’s inline with Pierros orders. There’s something important about the city according to the Tsaritsa.

Of course - none of this is especially important to Childe. Once his role has been fulfilled, every minute is spent chasing leads and following trails to whichever path leads to you. It’s a compulsion. Each time he receives a knock on his office door, he feels his pulse rise all the way into his throat. He knows objectively that most leads are worthless - that people are simply trying to squeeze money from the Fatui in order to survive.

The piercing, celestial anger doesn’t settle with all the objectivity in the world. No amount of searching seems to lead back to you and his patience is already dangerously thin.

Of course Childe knew embarking on this endeavor would not be fruitful all at once.

Your speciality had been stealth from the beginning. If anyone knew how to disappear into thin air - Childe would first think of you. It doesn’t soothe him. Knowing it will be difficult to find you, and knowing especially that you don’t want to be found - none of it soothes the bone deep ache for you. Each night he carves the desire out of him, it won’t help him in his journey to carry.

But each morning, there’s a bruising sensation in his ribs that reminds him of the wound process. Each night he bore the injury of loss and there is nowhere for him to find evidence of it happening. Only the aftermath, and more pitiful breadcrumbs that he tries to trace back to you.

Childe chases the tail light of a firefly across every corner of Mondstadt. He turns over each chipped brick of dilapidated buildings, hunts down every one who even knows your name or any of your features. He rifles through cheap shot intel and thins out the swarm of greedy idiots through beatings.

Among the cheap dirty tricks, he finds one lead. From a child, no less - a boy who isn’t any older than 13.

In his office, two Fatui drag in a pair of siblings.

“I know who you’re looking for,” He says, slow and careful - on guard. There’s a little girl trembling behind him, shaking like a leaf. A big brother, through and through “I have proof.”

Childe takes interest immediately. This little boy reminds him of you, crystal clear eyes. Truthful. Childe leans on the edge of his desk.

“Proof? What, like a picture?”

“N-no,” He swallows. He reaches for something inside of his cloak, and the guards immediately stand to attention. Childe puts his hand up telling them to stand down. When there’s no longer any threat, the boy pulls something out of his pocket. A piece of paper with something drawn on it, and a coin within it.

Ah. The paper bears your signature, and the coin is yours too. To be more clear, it’s a coin relocated agents are permitted to carry once they depart. It’s a signature of honorable dismissal, and a promise from the Tsartisa guaranteeing your protection in case of more Fatui encroachment on the land. There’s an honor system. It’s rare that dismissal even happens given the nature of the organization. Agents with outstanding records get three total.

Childe can hardly believe it. But he does, because it’s you - and it’s something you would do. It’s not like a 13 year old boy would be able to coerce it out of you. It’s yours. You gave it to him.

Childe grips the coin into his hand. There’s a lingering presence. He closes his fist around the metal, paper crumpling underneath before kissing his closed fist.

“When,” He takes in a sharp breath “When did you receive this?”

“A few weeks ago,” He replies, visibly relaxed now that Childe seems to recognize its legitimacy “She s-stayed with me and my sister for a while. And protected us. Nobody messes with us anymore. She s-said that if the Fatui come, to give them this and they won’t bother us.”

“And you’re trading it in for money, you precocious brat?” Childe says with no real malice in his voice. The kid stiffens, but he can only laugh in reply “Well, I’ll respect the young lady's wishes. I like kids, after all.”

Childe makes eye contact with his underlings, and they salute him.

“Give them as much money as they ask for. And issue them another coin, but make sure it’s one of mine. I’ll be keeping this one,”

They speak in tandem “Yes, Captain.”

“You should be very grateful, kid.” Childe says, reaching his hand out. He’s in a good mood, hands patting the heads of both kids.

“You’ve experienced something truly invaluable, and it’s brought you great fortune. Go give prayer to your Archon for the blessing”

He traces your steps back to Liyue. He only knows this after interrogating those kids for a long while. Liyue is the easiest route to Sumeru, so Childe mostly works on a hunch.

He likes Liyue. It’s easy enough to recruit there since the Fatui already have a foot in the door, and beyond that - the citizens are warm if you’re respectful.

“Excuse me, maam,” Childe waves a hand at the woman working at the fruit stand near the harbor. An older woman and Liyue local, with gray hair and warm eyes “Would it be alright if I asked you some questions?”

The woman pauses from her task, squinting her eyes momentarily before humming.

“Sure, sonny, I don’t see why not,” She replies, continuing on with her work “Are you a foreigner?”

“Yes, ma’am I am. And I’m looking for someone who I heard passed through here recently.”

“Oh? Who’re you looking for?”

“A young lady. Early 20’s. A bit rough and about ye high,” He says, vaguely gesturing to your height. He gives a little bit more detail on your features and the woman listens to him carefully before her eyes widen with realization “Sound familiar?”

“Oh, her!” The woman smiles, sitting behind her set up with a knife in hand. She grabs a melon from her stall, balancing it on a cutting board. She wets her knife with water and wipes it, the reflective metal shining in Childe’s eyes as it goes through the fruit in one solid push. “Yes. She stayed here for weeks, though I don’t have any idea where. She came in every morning to buy something from me.”

“Could you tell me a little more about it?” Childe urges, trying to mask the desperation to know in his voice. The old lady hums pleasantly “Anything about her or where she might be headed?”

“Well, she said something about Sumeru,” The old lady relays, cutting the melon into thin slices - ripe and sweet “She had thought about visiting Fontaine, but decided on just Sumeru for now. Said she was looking for her Father. How do you know that young lady, might I ask?”

“A friend from childhood,” Childe relays, a half truth and lie of omission. He dawns an expression of embarrassment and sincerity. “I’ve been looking for her all of my life.”

“Well, aren’t you quite the romantic? Was she your first love, dear boy?”

“Yes. Something like that. I had heard she was in Mondstat and then she came here, but it seems like I keep missing her. And I don’t want to lose sight of her again, after all we’ve been through.”

The old woman's features soften, as she holds out a piece of fruit for Childe to take. He accepts, taking it graciously and with a soft word of thanks.

“To be young again would be a gift indeed,” She sighs wistfully “I admire your tenacious spirit. I’m sure you get a little closer to finding her each time you search. If it’s meant to be, I’m sure you will.”

Childe takes a bite of melon. It’s rich, mostly sweet and the slightest bit sour. The juice dribbles down his chin, and coats his mouth with the not-quite satisfaction. Sweet, but not sweet enough. Close but not close enough.

“Did she mention anything else?” He asks, wondering for more details “Or leave anything behind?”

“You sound like you miss her,” She says brightly before shaking her “Forgive my memory. The only thing I can remember was that she was preparing to settle down. She took seeds and supplies with her. After that, I didn’t see her again.”

“How unfortunate. But if she plans to be in Sumeru, then it seems like I have to go find her there,”

“You won’t be staying here long then, young man?”

Childe reaches the last of his slice, wiping his mouth with the back of a gloved hand.

“I don’t think so. But I’ll return someday. And if I find her, well,” He gives her a smile, picking a peach off of the stand and dropping a bag of Mora on the table “I’ll make sure we both come and thank you.”

Sumeru is Snezhnaya’s opposite.

In composition, in sight, in taste and in sound. The sweltering heat of the jungle, the plush of green, the wildlife that lays among the thickets. In all the ways that Snezhnaya is cold and precise, Sumeru is warm and bleeding. Each corner of the great nation bleeds into self. Culture bleeds into art and art bleeds into politics and everything is threaded together like vines of ivy through metal grates.

They are foreign lands to Childe. He’s spent his time across the world in other nations, but not Sumeru. The other Harbingers occupied it for years before Childe had the chance - and he does his very best to not trifle into Dottore’s territory.

(There is memory of another harbinger, like the faintest whisper of a ghost.)

But he can’t be sure of that. All he knows is that it’s his first time spending any time there for longer than a few days. It’s his first time there on a mission, to spend time among its people and make deals with the other mercenaries that roam both the desert and forest.

The Fatui are not particularly fond of the Eremites. Unlike other groups, there is no easy way to subordinate them. There are more intricate hierarchies and laws among them, laws of survival that do not cross over well to the Fatui. The Eremites have an honor system that many Fatui find foreign.

It’s not impossible to find common ground - but it’s difficult. If they are to stumble upon the wrong group of Eremites, they could very well end up in a losing battle. Sand is much like snow. If you don’t tread carefully, if you aren’t prepared - one step could leave you buried beneath soil before you could think twice.

There is one thing that both Eremite and Fatui bastards share completely, and that is greed for power and wealth.

Recruitment in the Sumeru region is difficult. But any information can be found if your pockets are heavy enough. They’re an efficient bunch since they don’t require much training.

Childe will have to look at his own books later. How much time, money, manpower he’s allocated in his relentless search for you. How many mountains he’s climbed, how many fights he’s gotten into, how much trouble it’s been. Mora is nothing, but altogether - your disappearance has cost a hefty price.

Still, you were telling the truth - as was the Eremite who found your new location, and the woman in Liyue who sold you fruit and the orphan boy who held your signature.

A trail of your very own light, the feeling of a cool breeze - everything that Childe has worked for has ultimately led him back to you in the bleedings lands of Sumeru.

A few weeks ago, he received new intel from an Eremite he’d recruited at the beginning of their stay. A 17-yr boy with a gift for the sword that had no particular loyalty to any other group of Eremites. A capable loner. Childe’s mission was simple -

(“There’s a woman you must find.

If you find her, I’ll give you anything you please.”)

Like a miracle, in 3 weeks time - the same recruit had returned to Tartaglia’s door with a photo of you.

(“You…you found her.” Childe mutters. He’s overwhelmed with too many emotions for anyone to show on his face. “Where?”

“In the jungle.” The boy says, voice cool and neutral “It looks like she built a shelter for herself and stays there. She wasn’t anywhere near the city,”

“No wonder it’s been so difficult to find you.” Childe mutters to himself before looking back up again “Can you lead me there?”

The boy rifles in his bag for something. A parchment paper that unravels to be a map with a line drawn on it.

“I thought this would be easier.”

Childe holds the paper in utter disbelief, staring at the line draw. A path forward to you.)

Last night, he departed alone into the jungles and followed the path carefully. The map was well marked with rest points and stops, and it wasn’t difficult to trek it once he was outside of the city. He’d gone alone with nothing but the clothes on his back. Eager and impatient, restless to find an oasis in the desert that has been draining the life out of him since he’d arrived.

Childe finds you at dawn. The sun has to rise completely but the world is lit, soft blue encasing it like a blanket. Off the beaten path is a cottage - a shelter built from jungle wood with a small animal coop and a garden. There’s a single light on in the kitchen, and enough windows for him to see what’s inside.

Many things overwhelm him once he catches the light on your face. You must’ve been awake for a while, because there’s no sleep left on your expression. Nothing but clarity, brightness, familiarity that Childe must’ve been searching for months now, maybe half a year.

The world feels like it’s stopped moving for him to take a step forward. It’s dark enough that a firefly draws past him, and Childe feels his body move nearly against his will.

He walks through the mud, through the dirt and grass - following the path to your door until he’s towering in front of it. He stands at the wood for a long, long while - in silent contemplation, before a sick sense of joy flutters through him.

A sense of sickness that parades around in his mind. Almost childlike. It’s been a long game of hide and seek, but Childe has finally found you.

He knocks on the door, lets each hit ring before he stops. And he waits.

You open the door without questioning it. Perhaps there’s someone from in town who visits you often enough that you don’t think to question it. Either way, you open it.

And when your eyes land on Childe’s expression, everything shifts.

He can practically feel the immediate apprehension. The confusion that you can’t make sense of, the feeling of bitter dread. Childe knows you like the back of your hand. Knows every little detail of your discomfort. You’re more confused than you are concerned for now, and your eyes are brilliantly honest like they’ve been from the start.

He’s giddy. The pure sense of euphoria is entangled so deeply with months worth or frustration, and he’s wound so tight he can’t help but grin down at you. You blink at him.

“Captain?”

“Comrade,” He says, voice a touch light “How have you been?”

He doesn’t offer you any more explanation than that. You stare at him and he stares back, greedily at the sight of you. He’s missed you, really - missed everything about you so much it feels like some part of him is ticking, preparing to detonate. You step back and Childe nearly steps with you.

He’s worried it will scare you off, so he refrains.

“What are you doing here, Captain?”

“Well,” He says first, contemplative “It’s a long story. Could I come in first?”

“Oh, of course,” You reply, because you presume it’s something important. You trust him enough to let him “Please, come in.”

So he invites himself in. You direct him to a small dining table with two wooden chairs. There’s sliced Zaytun peaches sitting on a ceramic plate. You pour Childe a glass of water hospitably, before sitting across from him with a look of concern. It’s easy to tell what you’re thinking - that there must’ve been some reason for him to come find you and that it must be important. You’re waiting for him to tell you that and soothe his nerves.

But being with you now, he finds he harbors no such desire. He eats a peach off of the plate in front of him. They’re sweet to the point it makes his teeth hurt.

He gives you a stare as you look back at him, and the two of you sit in uncomfortable silence.

“I’m glad I finally found you,” He says conversationally, looking down at his hands as he speaks “You didn’t make it easy, you know?”

“...You were looking for me?”

“Looked all across Teyvat for clues. I expected that, though. You were always good at disappearing when no one was around to see, comrade and I admired that about you,” Childe says with a sigh, shaking his head “I was very devastated to see you leave,”

“So you went searching for me? Why?”

He laughs hard as you ask him that, he almost can’t help it.

“Well, that’s the thing,” He says, taking another piece of fruit. Relishing the sweetness, almost as warming as the sudden proximity between you two “After all the years I’d spent crafting you into an excellent soldier, I thought it’d be a shame to let you disappear,”

He looks at you. Watches as your face changes.

“All those times I’d saved you, been a mentor towards you, taught and trained you. I’ve watched over you for so long and cared for you so fondly, and you disappeared just like that. I try not to be too bothered by things,” Childe laments, leaning back in the wood chair “I’m a patient man, for the most part. I’m an older brother, so I’ve always tried to be responsible. But there are some things I like to keep for myself,”

“...Captain, what are you talking about?”

Childe stands to his feet and walks over to you. The feeling of fear starts to build in you, mild but present in your vague tremble. You falter. He can tell from the way you stand. You must feel that something is wrong and your eyes show your distrust. Childe can’t stop peering into them, can’t stop searching for your every feeling wishing to pull them out of you and examine them.

He pulls away the chair behind you, letting it fall to the floor. He backs into you slowly, into the wall behind you where you stand underneath him. You’re afraid - tense, but not unwilling to fight.

“Did you think,” He whispers, voice filled with satisfaction “That every time I saved you was a coincidence?”

He stares down at you. Your eyes widen.

“I was just so fascinated. You can be really innocent sometimes, it's just adorable. But you’re also extremely direct and brutal. Naive but also completely trusting. I’ve never met a ruthless mercenary who was so forgiving.” Childe reaches for a piece of your hair, bringing it so carefully to his lips “I’ve come to love that about you. I just wanted to see if you could really endure all that. And you did beautifully. Really.”

“What the fuck are you saying?”

“When Valentin and Ilya died, you came back so crushed but your eyes,” Childe says, peering into them - hand reaching up to your cheek. You try to push him back. He feels the force in it - but he’s stronger than you by a lot where it matters “These eyes stayed the same. Clear and bright. A gaze that only spoke truth. It was mesmerizing. I’ve always been fond of beautiful things.” He says wistfully.

You push back. Your strong enough that Childe can feel the weight of you movements as you try to get away from him. You think of many clever moves, like going underneath him. You’re quick but he’s quicker. He pins you against the wall, cages you in with his body - his legs locks yours so you can’t use your knees. He traps you, just like he always wanted too.

It feels better than he could’ve pictured.

“I didn’t plan for them to die so brutally,” Childe begins, his voice against your ear. He can feel how your heart races through your skin, the painful pulse of each of your nerves as anger torrents inside of you. “I knew they were underskilled. I thought they’d only come back injured, but I was wrong. Torn to bits right in front of you. When you came back I thought you were completely broken but,”

He looks down at you, and you look up. There is burning, violent hatred in your unchanging gaze. He smiles at you affectionately, and it jars you enough that your own face changes in response.

“You looked at me with this same expression. Melancholy but crystal clear. You can’t help it can you? Not in the slightest. Time and time again, you came back and suffered tremendously but that never changed about you,” Childe whispers against your skin. Lets his lips brush against your neck, and your bare shoulder. He feels your body move hard trying to get him off of you, but you remain in place “One day, you’d get exhausted. And when that happened, I would help you. Take you into my own care. You could do whatever you wanted as long as you were with me. That was the vague inclination”

“You sick bastard.”

“But you ran,” Childe says. He releases you momentarily, trades his body in for a hand around your throat. You claw at him but the pain is easy to endure. “All that effort, and you decided to disappear. I was so annoyed with that, you know? I love you after all. Enough to empty every well of resources to find you. I searched for you in every corner I could look.”

With gloved hands, Childe hooks one of his thumbs into your mouth before hooking the other one - prying your jaw open completely. It shocks you enough to render you helpless - motionless as your hand rests on his forearm. When your mouth is open, he uses one hand to keep it that way. His gloved fingers violate your mouth, thumb brushing over the ridges in your teeth. He grabs your tongue with his thumb and forefinger, pressing it slightly like he’s reprimanding you. It’s warm and hot, making a chill run up his spine.

“But I won’t make that mistake again. From here and now, I’ll make sure you never leave my side. And with you next to me,” He presses his lips to your cheek while your mouth is pried open. He can feel your teeth dig into the sliver of skin exposed from his glove, biting hard enough that it punctures and bleeds. Childe is unfazed by it, almost a little fond at how hard he can feel your canines digging into his leather gloves “From now on, everything you do should be with me at the forefront. I’m being a little selfish, but it should be alright, yes? You’ve been under my command for a longer time, so you’re used to it.”

“Captain,” Your words are muffled by his fingers in his mouth, a touch sad - a touch betrayed, but not terrified. Angry like you want to kill him. To rip him apart with your teeth but too confused to do so much as move. Not scared of him despite everything that he’s just admitted. And your eyes, of course, remain unchanged “You fucking bastard. You rotten fucking bastard, they were—”

He pulls his fingers away from your mouth, cupping your face in his hands instead. Your reaction is refreshing.

“Kiss me, won’t you?”

Your response is to bite but Childe catches your mouth anyway. He holds your chin and keeps you under him and kisses you hard. He lets his hands circle around your waist, completely ignoring all the attempts you make to run. He kisses you, and your mouth tastes like blood. His blood, mixed with the faint taste of peach. Iron and sugar, perfectly entangled in the soft, warm heat of your mouth. You kiss like a dream.

Your cold stoicism melts under the weight of your shock, and you’re so startled you give in only slightly. Childe kisses you in apology. Childe kisses you because he loves how dreadful you find it. Because no matter how much it disgusts or sickens you, he can’t help but be addicted to the feeling of your lips and skin. He’s sure the coming months will make this newly explored affection a most miserable vice.

He wraps around a hand around your throat again, teeth nipping along your cheek before kissing the indentation of his own canine. His other hand clamps around your wrists, pinning them above your head as he cages you in once again.

“I’m not an opponent you will ever be able to best unless the Archon’s themselves come to kill me,” He whispers, faint and loving as he makes sure to look you in the eyes. “So stand down, soldier - and let your Captain lead you to paradise.”

#yandere cw #violence cw #dark content cw #stalking cw #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin impact x reader #yandere childe

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tyran-the-tyranical · 9 months ago

Text

I’m currently writing a fic and writing for Raphael is a little infuriating if I’m being honest.

Mostly because he has such a way about him, and unlike the other characters where there’s some room for deviation, he’s quite rigid in his mannerisms. So I’ve literally been scraping through his dialogue and ‘analysing’ his behaviour, and this is what I’ve ‘boggled’ it down to.

EDIT: This is actually really long, and in fact not boggled down at all, Keep Reading at your own peril...

(OK, So I've completely reorganized this post to be more readable)

Raphael is a complex and multifaceted character, but here are some main character traits of his that I'll delve more into as we go on;

-Manipulative and Deceptive

-Arrogant and Condescending

-Sadistic and Enjoys Suffering

-Cunning and Strategic

-Relishes Power and Control

-Patient and Calculative

-Dark Humor

-Alluring and Subtly Flirtatious

-Dual Nature and Contradictory

-Hedonistic and Indulgent tendencies

-Ambition

Though Raphael wants to paint himself as an honest person, that still doesn’t mean he isn't Manipulative with us, he uses many tactics to gain our trust, from crafting this honest and helpful persona to literally threatening us and building pressure to make a deal to escape ceremorphosis.

"I'm here to help, not harm”

"I am master here. A prince of bargains cloaked like scarlet satin. All that hidden under sublimely obvious truths that cannot be discounted." (From Chapter 3 of his Diaries)

“Come now, why playing hard to get when you're in deep over your tadpole head all those pretty little symptoms sundering skin dissolving guts they haven't manifested yet have they?"

"I'll be around watching you squirm like a tadpole through a nice juicy brain"

As we progress his threats go from subtle to outright fear-mongering, but this also goes into somewhat of his dual nature as when he moves past his honest persona to just pressuring you, he still wants to paint himself as some sort of Saviour. Of course, this is also just another tactic of his, painting himself as a friend or helper, as though he doesn't have his own ulterior motives, which sure he admits outright but in the ending where you do give him the crown he drops this façade and tells you he's planning on taking over more than the hells and will eventually come for you next. I also think this bleeds into his own needs to be adored, you can see this further in his little plaques he has around his house.

"Am I a friend? Potentially, an adversary? Conceivably, but a savior? that's for certain. Try to cure yourself. Shop around - beg, borrow, and steal. Exhaust every possibility until none are left. And when hope has been whittled down to the very marrow of despair that's when you'll come knocking on my door. Take all the time you need but make up your mind before you're counting down with tentacles"

Additionally, this all just feeds into his performative nature - to the extent that he sometimes borders on narrator territory. He has his little monologues as he talks about us as though we’re characters in a story and he’s just recounting our actions to some unseen audience.

[His speech before the Yurgir encounter is a good example of this]

"Through the dark, she went creeping and awoke what was sleeping"

"The Shadows grow long and the hour is late" - also wherever this quote is from works well too

There are even more subtle moments where he's still being performative, even when he's not physically present, which goes into his desire and constant longing to be seen as something akin to a True or Full Devil (or archdevil). Since he is a cambion he is restricted a lot by his mortal half. He is held back by his human needs like sleep and presumably food too. I think he tries to cover for this through excess, as if you go to the HoH in Act 3, you can see the food on the table is just filled to the brim of just rotten food, basically all of it wasted. Also, there are loads of scattered areas that have fruit or wine throughout his house. I believe he does this on purpose to try to come across as though food is nothing but a pleasurable activity he indulges in now and again rather than a necessity and he doesn't care if he wastes it (Also just saying he's rich, let them eat cake, L + Ratio).

However his façade isn't perfect since he is still fallible, and he can fail/die. We can see this because, at every opportunity he possibly can, he attempts to convey this front of being omnipotent and powerful - as close as he can to an archdevil. To be fair, he manages to do this pretty really well, At times he can even come across as this truly unbeatable force, that we can’t ever truly defeat. This is exemplified by the fact that, even if we kill him, if we look in his logbook of previous visitors, it hints at him trying to find a way to cheat death by transferring his soul into a clone or something adjacent.

Now whether he ever managed to accomplish this by the time we attack him is uncertain, (though there is a non-canon / cut content line where he begs for his father's help as we fight him, kinda of insinuating he never fully realized his backup plan in time and he’s actually afraid he’ll die, but that’s also not in the game so who can say for sure)

“I cannot lose to you. Not here. Not in my home. I cannot die! Mephistopheles, hear your son! I am at your mercy - save me!” - NOT CANON BTW, but omg do I love this line

Another slight hint that Raphael might not be as indestructible as he'd like us to believe is when he is playing lance board with Mol.

"My, the double counter Gambit. Vicious. Exactly what I would have done"

Now for all intents and purposes Raphael does not need to win against Mol, that wasn't the purpose of their game, either way he already had his eyes set on her to make a deal anyway. Yet it demonstrates that whether you cheat or actually manage to outwit him, he can be beaten, since he can't hide behind a persona when playing (Mostly).

Furthermore, Raphael is like an English teacher, he loves his little similes and metaphors, and just talking in a verbose manner, and it’s not just word vomit, no no no, he makes it sound interesting, he is performing for us after all. For me personally tho, it’s difficult to replicate, unlike other characters or companions where you can deviate their dialogue, like hearing Astarion say ‘fuck you’ to Cazador, I don’t think you could get away with that for Raphael.

"The mouse smiled brightly it outfoxed, then down came the claw and that love was that"

"Perfect, one more rhyme for Old Time's sake; The master was slain within his own house, they dined on him both, the cat and the mouse."

"Like a mosquito nibbling at a dragon, be gone"

I also think it's so interesting that the man who does nothing but spout rhymes and poetry will say this if you call his poetry out for being dirt;

"I admit it isn't my primary interest not, by any stretch"

Excuse me, sir? I do think he genuinely likes poetry/writing in general, he supposedly even wrote a play before sooo, also I just think that all these contradictory things he says are on purpose, he's trying to be mysterious to some extent, and he doesn't want you to be able to gauge or understand him, he just wants you to believe in his persona he's crafted for you and that's all. Though like I've said before, his mask can slip off, especially in private or when he's enraged. An example is when he's referring to his employees who have failed him.

"[A record of various associates of Raphael's, listing their duties, and their respective performance.]

Korrilla Hearthflame - field work - so far I've barely

had to singe the tips of her fingers. This one shows promise.

Archivist - naughty boy, supposed to be looking after the collection,

but has a tendency to drift. May have to start breaking his neck to

give his spine a chance to recover.

Nubaldin - little shit let Gortash get away. Not letting

him near the prisons ever again. Chamber of Egress will

do fine until I find a replacement for him."

Moreover, he’s also very condescending/patronizing. (I think even in one of his dialogues, the devs noted he should even come across that way). I think that’s just a part of his little superiority complex, he’s the chess player and we’re all just his little pawns (that is until we kill him ourselves, it almost makes me think that Tav/Durge is actually the other player in the game and to some extent Raphael knows this and tries to play accordingly). He constantly wants to portray this cool and confident personality, that he’s accounted for every possible outcome (and in a lot of ways he has) and that even if he doesn’t get what he wants, it doesn’t faze him, and in fact, he’ll try to make it seem like either way it benefits him, and sure in some ways it might, but I do believe he’s just saying that to mask his failure to achieve his goal.

"I should snuff you out and make coin of your soul, but it will be more amusing to let you see the consequences of your actions. Do you really think that the crown is safer in the hands of a goddess than in the claws of a devil?" (Look, I don't like Mystra, but do I think the crown is safer with her? UH yea)

"Such an eager little pup."

"You really do think highly of yourself. My sights are set on something much more valuable than your soul, succulent though it would be."

He's Definitely pissed at us for being a little shithead and giving the crown to Mystra (even tho in the game if you complete Gale's quests you rlly have no choice lol) But he still tries to play it off as this will be terrible for you but great for him, since if shit hits the fan, he's just gonna get more souls - Though I'm sure this is him just trying to save face, or at least to some extent. We can see him actually lose his composure if we ascend Gale.

"Do not toy with me, Wizard!" - R

"I thought you liked playing games? You can have the crown Raphael, but you'll need to come and collect it from my realm" - G

"You can't do this!" - R

"I hit him where he's most vulnerable, pricked his pride, and sent him back to the hells to lick his wounds. He'll be back, the question is will he find us side by side?" - G

This is really fun to see since even Gale knows Raphael has no power over him and can just mess with him, and initially, Raphael tries to gain control by saying like 'Oh no, I'm not going to take the crown Gale's going to give me it, like we agreed' and then when Gale fucks with him and it utterly infuriates him because there's not much else he can do really since Gale, though he might not be as powerful as Mystra, is definitely more powerful than Raphael. I also think it's very interesting that, even though we've basically gone against Raphael and screwed him over, he doesn't plan on taking it out on us, and I know he says he wants us to see the consequences of our actions but I think there's a different reason to why he doesn't take action against us. I think he's genuinely afraid of us, let me explain. He was clearly already afraid of our potential before any of the endings, shown in his dream he wrote about in his diary, and when we manage to survive everything that the game throw at us and defeat the nether brain, we've basically become undefeatable (Not really but you get what I mean) The only time he even suggests he'll take one of our souls is if Gale explodes while trying to ascend and well, there's not going to be much resistance since he's already blown up.

"There was one among them who spoke for the rest. They gestured to the melting hooks, suddenly glanced my way, and in their face I saw they had the best of me.

In waking, my courage has firmed. I progress my plans for

the tadpoled even now.

I am Raphael. I am not easily bested."

Raphael is not only fueled by his ambition but his fear (I'll talk more about that later too) and so he acts accordingly, he plans and schemes for hundreds of years trying to account for every possibility, and at times he can even come across as a total control freak lol. He has Korilla literally stalk us throughout the game, he also knows personal facts about our companions (he’s done his homework), and he’s literally planned and orchestrated events in the plot to help lean towards us giving him the crown in the end (it’s implied he helped vlaakith chain Orpheus or idk some other devil did with infernal chains, and he’s the one who helps wipe Ketherics lil army to just one justiciar) he’s had a lot of time to plan and plan he has. He’s constantly aware of your movements since he picks very specific points to appear to you. 

"[Laughter] The good thing is though there's only one little voice you really should listen to, Mine" - Total control freak behavior

"you'll be back, it's something of great importance to your master is it a love letter a warning or a deed of ownership I can give you all the Gory details"

"Carved into that Ivory skin of yours is one part of an infernal contract between the archdevil Mephistopheles and your former master"

"Karlach, why does that name ring a bell? hmm, perhaps I read it in a book somewhere."

An interesting thing to note is that I think his controlling and performative tactics are the ultimate reason to why he inevitably fails (If you decide to kill him I mean) Since he's spent so much time controlling the narrative literally and figuratively, he's literally altered events leading up to our arrival so that we can give him what he wants and he even talks about us as if we are just a character in his story he's created, he's been doing this so long he truly believes he can control the narrative, that he's predicted every outcome and he really doesn't think we'd go against that we could go against him. He's been so out of the narrative himself, an observer who might nudge things to go his way now and then but never be in the action himself that he truly believed he was untouchable, that he could just float above it all like he did with Karsus’s folly happened.

Now onto an aspect of Raphael I find very interesting – His relationship's with those around him. As I said before he’s a total control freak, and that’s clearly fueled (if not caused) by his narcissism and we can see that even outside of our protags. Look at Haarlep for instance, (there’s so much to dissect with these two) but Raphael strictly has Haarlep made to look like himself, and is the only form he’ll sleep with. There isn’t just one answer to why he’d do that, firstly, it just boils down to him being a narcissist sure, but on the other hand a point can be made that he’s doing it strategically.

Haarlep was sent to distract him, and presumably to spy and report back as well (Hypothetically, it's not confirmed) and presumably, Raphael is clever enough to realize that. So why would he reveal anything about himself in such a vulnerable way, so why not just make the incubus be in one form and one form only? It also serves as a lil bit of a punishment I suppose, since Haarlep can be 1000 different people but is forced to stay as one. There’s also another angle to this, that narcissists generally find intimacy difficult, and being vulnerable with other people. So why be vulnerable when you can stick to the devil you know?

Party member: How did you end up here?

Haarlep: Sent by Mephistopheles... distract naughty son.

He knows himself better than anyone, so why would he bother with anyone else? It’s a bit of a defense mechanism, he’s not willing to be vulnerable or let his guard down (and to be fair, for good reason) so it’d be better for him to stick to what he knows, what he’s comfortable with. I’m just going to throw this out here but he comes across as a total hedgehog dilemma sorta of guy, gives off real Shinji Ikari vibes tbh. (NOT REALLY, He's more Gman than anything but just without the charisma 💅)

Party member: Did you ever turn into forms besides Raphael's?

Haarlep: Raphael... loves... only... Raphael.

Now, this is just supposed to be a Raphael analysis but I find it impossible not to mention Haarlep and their motivations as well, since they are arguably the closest person (Literally) to Raphael. Haarlep comes across as a complete gossip type since they seem to just love to air out Raphael's little secrets, they even say how Raphael can Deny them nothing so either Raphael does trust them to some extent to make them his confidant or well, Haarlep just Wittles it out of him during their sessions. Either way, they hold some closeness to Raphael, yet I find it revealing that they immediately will expose him and actually help you (for a price ofc) and intentionally try to help you kill Raphael. Now whether they believed we could actually kill him or not is up for debate, but after you give them your form they do say that they'll enjoy misusing you and they do tell you what will happen when they use your form, so if they believed you were going to die why bother?

Haarlep doesn't seem to be the only one as in their letter to you in the epilogue it's revealed that even the devils in Mephistopheles's court seemed to hate Raphael.

"Since the timely end of Raphael's reign, I've gone back to Mephistopheles' Palace in Cania. Many of his Father's court are celebrating the demise of my little brat - behind closed doors. And I'm making a fortune selling evenings in his form now there is no contract binding me to secrecy. Rather tasteless to desire a dead man like that, even amongst devilkind, isn't it?"

Haarlep even calls Raphael their little brat, though perhaps it was out of endearment as even Haarlep remarks how low it is to desire a dead man when they use Raphael's form. This could possibly show some sort of remorse towards Raphael's death, but it's pretty unclear, yet that's also to be expected since Haarlep is a full devil and they even state they're a crueler master than Raphael so perhaps that was true as well. It genuinely seems that no one actually cares for Raphael, besides perhaps Korilla, and I mean that's fair in all honestly, considering how he treats most of his employees (Hope too) but it's also funny that the people he wants to impress or become most, the devils, also hate him or want to well.. Have some fun times with his form after he's already dead. I also think it's interesting that Haarlep refers to Raphael as a dead man rather than a devil, they don't even say 'amongst his own kind', It's interesting because Raphael himself is so adamant on calling himself a Devil rather than cambion or whatever (tbf he's not the only one, Mizora does the same or at least out characters don't care to make the distinction) Yet Haarlep doesn't care to make that distinction. Now, of course, man doesn't necessarily mean a mortal man or whatever, but it's still intriguing to note.

An interesting thing to note about Devil society is that, unlike Demons who usually just outcast or kill their cambions, Devils at least allow Cambions to intergrade into their Hierarchy, but at the same time it's a system that wasn't built for them to succeed in since cambions can't physically be promoted, they aren't guaranteed anything form their work, so everything they have, they've had to work hard for. Unlike those around him, Raphael has had to work extra for his position (though I'm sure his title of Son of Mephistopheles did help somewhat) he seems to have it quite good, and tbh I even initially thought he was his own free agent, and didn’t even have to serve under Zariel (but he does) he just has it really good, or at least better than most cambions from what it seems. At the same time, I find it intriguing that he sparsely even mentions who he is in relation to his father. Through subtle hints throughout that game, it's clear that Raphael actually probably hates his father or is perhaps extremely jealous of him, since at the same time he mirrors him in some aspects.

I think the Dungeoncast said it best when examining the devil's mindset that I also think apply to Raphael quite well too;

"Their dogma essentially revolves around seeking power over others, always adhering to an eye-for-an-eye principle. They exploit any kindness shown to them and show no compassion for the weak, exhibiting traits of a sociopath. Winning at any cost is their mantra, often cloaked in the guise of promoting personal excellence and independence. When they harm others, they rationalize it as providing motivation to succeed."

Even though his society basically looks down on him, whether he's successful or not, Raphael still believes in their mindset, mostly since that's probably how he's survived and thrived in the Hells. This mantra that the devils have has warped who he is as a person entirely and also his ambitions, he doesn't want any other than control, he sees no point in forming meaningful relationships or other interests, and he only sees domination and power as his goal since that's all his society has told him is important.

Another thing I’ve read about cambions is their sense of entitlement, especially over mortals, and well Raphael certainly fits the bill. Which might contribute to why he wants what he wants. I mean, why does Raphael want to take over the hells? To end the blood war? Sure, almost all devils want to rise the ranks but Raphael’s goals are a lot more lofty than that, and why is that? Is it solely his ego? To be seen as something kin to a god-like Asmodeus, or is it to best and humiliate his father? Perhaps both, or perhaps neither, it’s somewhat unclear, but perhaps he just feels entitled to something greater or maybe he wants out of the rat race that is the Devil's Hierarchy.

"It's the Fatal flaw of mortal kind take away their free will and they call you a tyrant, allow them to indulge it and they become tyrants"

A final point is since he’s a narcissist, he’s obsessed with his image, yea I know, very obvious. And it’s been mentioned a few times that this is probably why he and Haarlep look so different, it’s either insecurity or wanting to come across as something more mature, why he’d look older than Haarlep when they should be an exact copy. It’s the whole reason he’s been performing, curating this image to us, one that he barely even allows himself to break at home unless he’s enraged. If you look at it for what it is, it’s just insecurity and almost desperation. A desperate desire to be seen as something greater, something akin to his father (daddy issues are making their appearance) and it honestly comes across as erratic, and extreme.

He’s so obsessed with his image that perhaps when Haarlep said they’re a perfect copy of Raphael they didn’t mean as an exact copy, they meant they’re are literally a perfect version of Raphael, a better version (most likely a result of insecurities of how he's perceived). Who can say for sure what the reason is why they look so different if they’re supposed to be mirrors of each other. His whole obsession with is image really matches his father, since Mephistopheles is known to change his appearance and curates it for mortals as well (It's why he's confused with Asmodeus a lot since he just goes for a basic generic devil look).

One more thing, considering all the characters we meet throughout the game, Raphael is or is one of the oldest characters in-game, seeing as he's possibly 1000+ years old. Considering this, it makes sense that on top of him being a devil anyway, he finds himself detached from mortals as well as his own mortal half. Though he is quite proactive in his contract seeking seeing as he not only seeks us out but characters like Mol and Lyrthindor (Tho that was more towards orchestrating his own goals) Otherwise he can just sit up in his Ivory tower devoid of mortal's strive, I mean he even says multiple times that his house is a safe haven for the tired/sick/restless/etc. On top of him already trying to detach himself from his mortal half, he also has the benefit of being so old that he probably has already become numb to it, to mortal thoughts and feelings. He wouldn't be able to emphasize or understand it (tho him being a devil wouldn't have helped either) all he would understand is how to use their suffering to his own benefit. Any possibility for humanity within Raphael is either so faint it's practically not there or there is none left entirely.

"Never have I been so attracted to mortals as I am to those infested by the tadpole."

He even says this himself. Mortals have never had any impact on him, physically or emotionally. Yet in saying that, they've never really been given the chance to. The closest a mortal besides us the player to have ever gotten 'close' to Raphael or have impacted him is Hope. Raphael is not only a complex character but he has so many complex relationships with the few people he lets around him. As I said before Raphael is completely blinded to humanity, he's definitely a person who believes the ends justify the means and that has never been more evident than in what he does with Hope. He doesn't care what It takes just as long as it gets him what he wants, that's why he helps orchestrate the plot to lean in his favor, why he basically tricks Yurgir, and why he has no problem torturing Hope even though she's basically no one to him, she isn't even a debtor.

Though Raphael is almost completely removed from being anything close to a human being, even after all this time, whether he likes it or not, he still does have some human traits. His interests for one help humanize him (Which tbh he is probably aware of and uses to his advantage) Sure he likes poetry and literature, but he's also just obsessed with everything surrounding Karsus and Hope (or at least the concept) He even names his house The House of Hope and whether he renamed it that after Hope or whether that was it's original name isn't clear but either way he really likes the idea of hope in hell. You can see this throughout his house on the little plaques he has scattered throughout, he definitely wants to be people's last hope or perhaps just hope in general, it would make sense as well since he wants to literally break hope and bend her under his will.

"Karsus's folly the Bard and Scholars call it. I call it hope, the hope of creating a better world, and The Perils of unchecked hubris"

(Karsus and Hope are basically his only two special interests that he starts to literally combine them)

Another very human trait of Raphael’s is that Raphael has a fear of failure. He even has dreams about us destroying everything he's worked for and killing him.

"There was one among them who spoke for the rest. They gestured to the melting hooks, suddenly glanced my way, and in their face I saw they had the best of me.

In waking, my courage has firmed. I progress my plans for the tadpoled even now.

I am Raphael. I am not easily bested."

Even though he reassures himself that he is Raphael and cannot be easily bested it's clear he's still very desperate. The only variable in his plan that he can't truly control is Us and he definitely knows this. Even other characters like Gale can tell how desperate he is. His facade of Invincibility is one of the tactics he uses against us to keep us in check against him. To be honest, all these things lend to humanizing him far greater than any poetry or quote he could ever spout because it shows his vulnerability, it shows he's not as invincible as he'd like us to believe, that he does have weaknesses and can in fact fail. A very mortal trait to have in all fairness.

Also on another quick note, he totally has a special interest (obsession) in Karsus, like him seeing Karsus accidentally kill thousands of people in the netherese cities became a core memory for him, one that he’s never let go, even now. 

"The archdevil Mephistopheles snatched up the crown and squirreled it away in one of his vaults. He is not more than a frigid archivist"

"I want the crown that dominates the Elder brain and then we all Gather in the House of Hope me dressed in my finest silks, you skinless, hanging from a hook to watch as your world dies"

"you would have been Heroes if you only dealt fairly with me, instead you're not so different to doomed Karsus, overreaching your limits and burning your world to Ash"

"The screams oh the screams hundreds of thousands of people watching in horror as the ground came up to meet them"

His ambitions seem to be fueled a lot by his narcissism and this belief that he can achieve all he's set out for and actually do a good job in implementing order, etc. Whether this is a founded belief or not is debatable, since we don't really know what he achieves past supposedly Avernus.

"Though with the crown, I would impose perfect order, Unity, efficiency, control, my kingdom would control its borders and stay within them" (Sure pal)

OK, onto the kicker here; Raphael is a very alluring character, he can even come across as flirtatious at times (Also through his body language and I obvs can't demonstrate that here but u get it) Throughout the game he's saying how he'll wine and dine us if we give him what he wants, yet In the ending where we actually give him the crown, I think it's so telling that after all his promises of dining with him and getting to see him again if we deliver it, he literally doesn't follow through at all (There's a debate for this since we don't know if he might've once his plans were done) and this just proves what we were to him; that we were in fact just pawns to him. Even if he does invite us to dine with him, it'll most likely be with a purpose, that he wants something from us or for us to do something for him because otherwise he's gotten all we wanted from us, the facade has been lifted and he doesn't need to try charm or threaten us, he's effectively done with us (literally, since it is an ending). It's all just another aspect of his manipulation and Persona he uses against us (And I mean, It worked) We're all just a means to an end for him.

ALSO, A little side thing I should note is the silly lil Dark humor Raphael has. Raphael, being a devil and all, definitely has a dark humor. You can defo gather that from his dialogue but also the way he comes up with creative punishments for his debtors. Now some of it is just basic evil shit like the guy who does the Self-flagellation stuff and the one who's forced to act like a dog, but some of it is more than that, like the guy who worships his chamber pot which just so happens to be under the statue of Mephistopheles or the debtor who's forced to dance (which I think is a reference to The Red Shoes story/movie where the character is literally forced to keep dancing) or the chick who just voyeuristically watches what goes down in the boudoir, like yea it's horrible but sometimes it just cartoonishly ridiculous and you can't help but find it somewhat amusing.

"Hope [Laughter] such a tease" like when he says this, unbeknownst to us, he's referring to the real-life Hope, more of an inside joke to himself really.

On top of all that - this specific paragraph isn't really poignant to Raphael's character necessarily, it's more of a personal observation but - I think if there were to ever be a romance with Raphael the best option is to not give him the crown (tho I do kinda wanna see him with his lil crown being the prince of hell). It's similar to Gortash, in that if you want to be his equal you shouldn't grovel and just give him the netherese shards, you need to challenge him and show your mettle basically. Now I'm not saying Raphael would be pleased with this, but if you wanted to be an equal, this is the best route, otherwise, there's always going to be that power imbalance like with ascended Astarion. (AKA, kill him, Do It)

My final point that I wanna make is, that all the characters in Bg3 are designed with a fatal disbelief. Y'know Gale believes if he becomes a god he can prove himself to Mystra, Lae'zeel believes that Vlaakith is righteous and will allow her to ascend, Shadowheart believes she can find herself/ her purpose in Shar, and Astarion believes he'll finally be safe if he becomes the vampire ascendant, yet we that these believes are all unfounded and end up being untrue wif they achieve them, and the same goes for Raphael. Now, if Raphael achieves his goal of getting the crown, he most likely will still end up not getting what he wants, for two reasons; Asmodeus literally cannot be defeated - Let me explain; So there are a few origins for Asmodeus and to most popularized one (and the one I prefer) is the one where he and some of the other archdevils were actually previously angels that got corrupted while fighting demons.

Yet, in earlier editions, it's stated that all of that is just speculation and mythos surrounding Asmodeus and his real origin is that he is literally a cosmic force that was there at the beginning of time. OK. Now personally I don't care for this origin but either way, whichever one you believe I think my next point still stands the same. Whether Asmodeus is just a being that has achieved something as close to godhood as he can or a literal cosmic force of lawful evil, Raphael probably would still be unable to defeat him even with the Crown and scepter and any other of Karsus's little items, he most likely if anything could only get to the eighth layer. Now in saying this, this is still not his disbelief, because his personal belief is also one that all devils share, which is a complete lie, that being the entire hierarchy they abide by. Every devil abides by this meritocracy hierarchy, and the belief that if they become more powerful, and ascend - that they can reach Asmodeus status, but this is a complete an utter lie. Asmodeus keeps this facade that he could be defeated, but in truth, he's kinda way too powerful for any of the devils in hell, and he knows this and uses it as a tactic to keep them in his control.

Now Raphael to some extent knows that he has to basically cheat to be even able to ascend, since he's a cambion and the hells system wasn't exactly designed for him to be promoted. Yet even if he manages to conquer every layer up to Cania, he's still going to lose since he's basically destroying the hierarchy and therefore he won't have control over the devils beneath him. Now the crown can be used to literally dominate people but that's not what Raphael necessarily wants - He wants to be adored and willingly followed, and of course, he'll use the crown when he has to, but to wholly subjugate everyone in hell to mindlessly obey doesn't seem to be his goal. There are more practical reasons as well why there are certain devils that have control over the layers, and Raphael, no matter what power he can possess, is still just one individual, and inevitably it seems as though there would be a lot of chaos rather the perfect order he believes he can achieve.

I know that the crown can basically make you a god, and if Asmodeus has powers akin to a god and Raphael can theoretically do the same, then why can't he just defeat Asmodeus? well, it goes into Raphael's fatal flaw, his arrogance. If we look at Gale, for example, he made himself a literal god and still wasn't powerful enough to defeat Mystra, and yes, Raphael 'Is no mortal' but this is what I mean, he believes is above Karsus and Gale, that he'll succeed where they failed but that's just not the case. Like I've said before, Raphael desperately wants to be seen as more, his ego won't let him accept anything less but that still doesn't change the fact that he is fallible, and we don't have to look any further than when we managed to defeat him. Now in saying all this, this is all theoretical and kind of bleeds more into an opinion, since we don't know what plays out after he gets Avernus, perhaps the other archdevils managed to kill him before he achieved anything, or perhaps he really did manage to conquer Baator and the other realms, Who knows. (I might be cooked for saying this, especially since I do wanna see him be a lil prince of hell, but arguably giving him the crown, besides being our bad ending, is also his bad ending - No further explanation)

Like I know I said, this is what I’ve boggled it down to and well, it’s not very boggled, but that’s what I mean! There’s so much going on with this little guy, it’s almost hard to keep up with, you gotta write him as suave and mysterious but also somewhat threatening and intimidating, he has to be articulate and persuasive as well as theatrical, while also keeping in mind his manipulative and narcissistic/egotistical tendencies, which doesn’t come easy to write for.

This isn’t a slight by any means either, he’s a complicated character and that’s why I like him, but my sorry ass struggles to replicate it 🥲 though I hope this post will be a good reference to circle back to when writing for him.

#bg3 raphael #bg3 #raphael bg3 #baldurs gate raphael #baldurs gate 3 raphael #baldur's gate raphael #raphael the cambion #bg3 haarlep #haarlep #bg3 hope #baldur's gate 3 #korilla hearthflame

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lovelettersfromluna · 8 days ago

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Hi! Let’s talk :)

Let’s start off with the usual. How are you? Have you been eating well? Drinking lots of water? Getting enough sleep? Taking care of yourself? I hope you have been. This year has been really fucking crazy despite us just now finishing January, but are we really all that shocked?

I’ve tried making this post a few times, and I really hope I get this one right. I have so many thoughts and so many things I want to say, and it feels hard to convey all of it inside one tiny post. I wish I could just give you a voice memo of me rambling for 30 minutes instead.

I know what you’re thinking. “Luna, why didn’t you just make a post about taking a hiatus? Surely you were aware of how hectic things would get in a months time?” And you’re right! You are very very right. I made that post with every intention of coming back as permanently as possible, however things happen very quickly when you least expect them to.

To make a very long story short, I’m working now! Which greatly affects my posts on here. I’ve been working full time, alongside being a student full time, which fills my plate up a lot more than it was before.

I mean this when I say this, but I am not going anywhere, this page is not going anywhere. I have every intention of fitting this into my schedule, because this is my hobby. I write to destress, I allow my imagination to run rampant and write to my hearts content. However, there will be changes.

I plan on implementing a post schedule for this page, because if there’s anything I need to stay organized right now, it’s structure. I haven’t fully figured out when that’ll be, as I haven’t been working for that long yet. Once I have a better idea of my permanent schedule, I’ll be getting on that as soon as I can to set aside time for myself to write.

Regardless of what my work schedule will be, I won’t be on here the way I was when I first started my page. Posts will be a bit more spaced out, because I’m just one person. I’m only capable of so much, and I’m trying to avoid anymore burnout as much as I can.

This year alone, I’ve done things that have terrified me my entire life. I’ve had to cross so many hurdles within the span of a month that have overwhelmed me, exhausted me, and made me extremely proud of myself all in one. It’s a part of growing up, and I ask for you all to bear with me a bit longer.

I wish I could have all the free time in the world to be with you all, and give you the work you want, but my brain is only capable of so much.

This is not a hiatus post, so please don’t feel like it is. This is simply me discussing the future of this blog, because things are going to change. I understand if this upsets you, because I’ll miss writing until four am to my hearts content. I’ll try to do that whenever I can! I just won’t be able to do it as often as I used to.

Thank you all for your patience and kindness while I try to navigate my time here. This little space we’ve created together has been one of my greatest achievements and it makes my heart glow knowing I’m able to share it all with you. I’m still here, writing, reading, and doing what I can with the free time I have, and the idea I have are almost overwhelming. I can’t wait to share it all with you.

As always, Love Luna 🤍

#ask luna

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trungles · 11 months ago

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Processing Process, and More Processing

I made this post free and publicly readable on Patreon, but I'm reposting the whole thing right here too because, well, it's a free post, and I don't want to make you click away from your dashboard if you don't need to. But also if you want to support my work, here's the link to the post.

It's a little bit about cartooning, a little bit about drawing, and then it turns into a eulogy for a chicken.

I wrote “process” more than once, and now the word looks funny and is beginning to lose its meaning to me.

This post is about a few things, and it’s a little bit on the sad end of things. Nothing dire! No worries. There’s just a little mention of death, just as a heads up.

Before we get to that, though, I’ve been doing some work and had some thoughts.

I’m often asked about how I draw the noodle hair on my characters, and the answer is typically that I draw each and every line with my hand. But there are considerations of movement and volume that go into it beyond its texturally decorative purposes. I love being able to convey shape and motion with it. It’s less evident, I think, in my illustration work, but I think it’s much more obvious when I do sequential work. In the above image, you can see me working out a sequence of Angelica having a series of thoughts. Her head sort of moves, and her eyes follow. You can see I’d planned out the general shape of the hair and how I’d like it to move.

I wound up moving the drawings a little bit so that the readers eyes will actually follow the character’s eyes as it moves gently rightward on the page. The hair is there to accentuate the movement, like so:

It’s a consideration I employ in all my drawings, but especially when I’m drawing hair and fabric. I don’t use a lot of action lines, so this becomes an important way to give the reader the information that someone is moving through a space. Resistance, gravity, and motion are all things I have to keep in the back of my head when I’m doing these little drawings. I think the planning actually takes more time than the inking, which can happen pretty quickly once I map it all out.

In other news, I’m starting to take my extracurricular artistic development a little more seriously in the silliest way possible.

You wouldn’t know it, but I studied painting college—a medium I switched to after the printmaking professor and head of the Art Department at the time told me I probably shouldn’t be an artist (he gave me a hard candy for my trouble). I recently bought a bunch of little dolls, dressed them up, and am returning to my painting roots. It feels really nice to work in big blobs of color instead of lines. It’s an exercise I came up with in response to a common lament from art students.

One of the more aggravating generational tensions described to me by art school students is when professors describe a student’s portfolio as “too anime” without much explanation. I know what the professor means. They’re trying to get at how referencing your favorite anime or cartoons means that your style becomes a simulacrum, an imperfect copy of a copy, and you never learn to develop your own sense of judgment about where a line or a shape needs to go. And we can tell. It’s a way of working that is perfectly fine for cartooning because cartooning is closer to hand-writing than it is to drawing. I always turn to Charles Schulz’s work for an example. Those figures aren’t literally depicting children—with their little chessboard-pawn proportions and bread-loaf feet—but we read them as endearing children because we’ve come to a consensus between us, the readers, and Charles Schulz, the author, that those shapes mean those things. There are no whiskers or paws in the shape of the word “CAT” but you look at those three letters together, and you know the thing to which it refers. That’s an aspect of cartooning, too. Of course, what elevates it from mere writing is, in part, due to the fact that those little figures do not lose their meaning the more you depict them.

To really draw well, though, you have to do those fundamentals. You have to draw from life. There’s no way around it. It helps you develop a stronger sense of where you like to lay down your lines and shapes, no matter how stylized you like to work. It grows your judgment, and every artist’s best tool is their own well-honed sense of artistic discernment about their own work.

But that doesn’t mean you have to surrender the stuff you like or the things that inspire you to make art! I tell students that if they want to hold fast to their anime style AND hone their fundamentals to develop their eye as an artist, they should buy little figurines and toys of their favorite characters, prop those up against a light source, and draw them as still life objects. Like, yes, do the vases and the figure drawings and all those, I still think those are important. But if this is what you need to keep you interested in drawing from life, having some toys around is a great way to do it! Also, bless those sculptors and toy designers. They’re the best.

I think there’s something to be said about remembering to imagine the physicality of the things we draw, in all its dimensions and in the way it catches the light or casts a shadow. It helps sentimentalize things, too. Makes them feel more real, even emotionally.

Edwina died on Tuesday night, after a few final snuggles, surrounded by her favorite treats. She was about five years old, which is old for a chicken, and she had a very comfortable life. We buried her this morning. She was a good hen, J’s personal favorite.

It really feels like the end of an era. She was the last surviving member of our very first flock. After the other hens died, she really seemed to prefer the company of people over other hens. She is survived by Snooki and Nelly, our two other young birds who get along quite well together, actually.

A baby chick costs between three and five American dollars, typically. An egg-laying hen could be between twenty and fifty bucks, depending on the breed. There are roughly 26 billion chickens living in the world today, about 518 million of them here in the United States. They come pretty cheap. And a part of me was moved to cynicism, entertaining the thought that it might be strange to feel sadly over a little animal that, at most, might be roughly equivalent to the price of a fancy lunch and a coffee.

I watched the 1974 musical version of The Little Prince recently, and I remember it mostly because Bob Fosse was in it and scared the crap out of me as a kid—he played the snake that would take the Little Prince back into the sky when his body gets too heavy to take with him. Gene Wilder plays the Fox whom the Little Prince befriends and tames among a garden of roses. The Fox explains that he is like any other fox in the world, but he is changed—made special and particular to the Little Prince—with time, effort, and patience. So, too, is the Prince’s little flower special to him. Out of all the flowers in the universe, she was the one he watered and protected under a little glass jar. And that’s enough.

I knew my little hen would not live that long. It could be very easy to take a broad view of the life expectancy of a hen and distance myself from it by virtue of its mortality and its commonness. People who raise livestock do it all the time. But I also think it’s wonderful that we should all be capable of loving very small, very brief little things. Edwina is not, to my mind, the rough equivalent of a fancy lunch and a coffee. She was our little hen. For her whole life, she was ours. And I’m so happy she was here.

#cartooning #drawing #patreon #cw death #cw pet death #comics #trungles #artists on tumblr

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ominus-potato · 4 months ago

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Hi, just wanted some advice about fanfics on ao3, how do you write them? and how can I make my one shot fic impactful for the readers. I'm planning on making a fic but since it's my first time making I kinda don't know where to start.. It's fine if you don't know though! just thought of asking cause you're writing's really good imo.

Sneak peak of the next part of the Pining Mario series at the end!

Well when I write, I don’t do it on AO3. I draft my work on Wattpad and then cross-post it to AO3. This is because AO3 is a bit more complicated, can be dodgy with saving works and only work when I have Wi-Fi. With Wattpad, I can write offline which is very helpful. Some people also draft on google docs so there’s that as well.

In terms of ACTUAL writing, there are two ways to leave an impression on the reader. There’s the way liked with angst, pain and maybe a bit of comfort; and there’s the way of making a story so sickeningly sweet that the reader is gushing over every cute moment. The length of the story also plays a factor. If it’s under 4000 I’d recommend avoiding angst bc you don’t have much time to set it up and at it off effectively.

Personally, I pretty much never write angst unless I genuinely believe it’ll make a story better. I’ve read fics before where the author will just throw in a shit ton of angst for no reason other than to make the reader feel bad for the mc and it just feels really cheap. It’s hard to do angst right and it’s really tempting to just give everyone a super fucked up backstory and make them depressed or something but imo it’s just overdone to the point of exhaustion. It can make a story depressing and no longer a fun read.

Whenever I write angst, it’s a small part of a mostly fluff-filled story. Take the pining Mario series for example. 19,000 words of silly pining hyjinx with a few small drops of angst. Then have the angst bubble over a little in Shots and Cowboys, Mario has a small breakdown since we’ve been keeping up with the story from his perspective mostly. That then allows me to forward the story and give character a new motivation.

If youre going to use angst to get an emotional reaction, you MUST have good set up and pay off. Especially if it’s a longer story. Also, you don’t have to do this, but I’d recommend against adding angst unless it’s necessary. Don’t just throw it in there Willy nilly yk?

If you wanna know how I do my stories, I really enjoy making them sweet and adorable with a little bit of drama and comedy. Like “Love is not a foreign language” where it’s just Mario and Mr Puzzles being adorable as hell for 6000 words. Then the drama comes when Puzzles reveals he can understand Mario and that only leads to more cutesy love.

A lot of it comes down to the story you’re trying to tell and how you want your reader to react. When I write a story, I want my readers to be invested in the drama and rising tensions, enjoying the little spurts of comedy here and there and ultimately, finding the main ship really cute in the end. I try to make people happy with my work bc I write the kinda stuff I would love to read! Because if I would read it, someone else definitely would.

Also, I feel like I must add that I have only ever written ship stories. If you wanted advice on stories in general with no shipping then I wouldn’t really know how to advise you on that. I love relationships between characters. Whether it’s ships or friendships. It’s my favourite part of any fandom so it’s where I specialise in my work.

Sorry I don’t really have like a plan or anything. I just keep it all in my head, know a few plot points I want to hit, and write to them. I try to get around 3-5 plot points for my longer stories and then just 1 or maybe 2 for the shorter ones. I sometimes add them as I go if I think it’ll make the story better!

For example, my plot points in Shots and Cowboys were:

•Mario tries to buy Puzzles a drink

•Mario and Mr Puzzles are interrupted by Wren and Mario is jealous

•Mario and Wren do something to fight for Puzzles’ affection (IE, play pool)

•Mario looses Puzzles to Wren, sees them kiss and is devastated.

•Mr Puzzles thinks that Mario is heartbroken over SMG4 and promises to help him move on.

Then if I get any smaller points like certain ships, lines, dynamics or interactions I wanna add I just sprinkle them in where I can.

I don’t really have much advice outside of that. I tend to just think of a scene or an idea I’d love to write and then more ideas pop up around it. It’s just one major point that gets built around. IE, Mario being jealous was the premise of SAC purely just because there were a few jealous Puzzles stories and I wanted to see if I could switch the dynamic.

Sorry for the long wall of text. I just wanna make sure it’s detailed enough for you. Just make it up as you go along and write what you wanna read. I re-read my stuff all the time because I genuinely enjoy what I write and it gives me exactly what I want. Have fun with it!

And if you’re worried about it being terrible, I’d advise you to read my old Lego Ninjago fanfiction that I wrote when I was 13. My god it was awful. But it shows development!

First story:

Latest story:

Enjoy that sneak peak of the next part of the Pining Mario series :D

#smg4 #fanfiction #fanfic #writing tips #writing #ao3 #Wattpad #Marware #pining mario series #Ninjago

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junocandraw · 11 days ago

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What are some of your takes on any of The Morgue Files characters? :>

EEEEEK! WHAT A QUESTION!!! :D

Okay. So. This is going to be long because im VERY opinionated on the audio drama. I watched them probably a million times while i was working on a wall mural in my parent’s bathroom.

JEFF

Don’t get me wrong. Emo edgelord mcr stan sigma boy Jeff is GREAT. Its a CLASSIC. BUT. Its overdone. Its exhausting to see the same cycle of kid moves to a new town, kid gets bullied, kid goes crazy BECAUSE he gets bullied, in every single Jeff story.

David’s is unique in that Jeff was just BORN THAT WAY. he was born sick. he was like that the day he popped out of the womb. i also like how he leaves slenderman’s impact on him so vague. when you listen to the pinehearst sessions, jeff doesn’t call anyone out by name, he just uses super vague pronouns to describe the collective. “I’ve seen them.” “I know what they’re planning.” etc. etc.

not to mention the bloody parts? oh. perfection. he wanted to “wear” Christy? 10/10. my timbers were shivered. I can vividly remember the first time I listened to the video and I was just…jaw dropped. Its insane that you can understand everything thats going on gore-wise just by audio.

In short? David’s take was REFRESHING. It was new. It broke that cycle. It even influenced some aspects of the rewrite i did. (shameless plug there ;D)

TOBY

One thing that is glaringly obvious with this one is that the mental-illness portion was portrayed SO MUCH BETTER than the original. Toby was so much more believable in his struggles. I really felt sorry for the guy. You put it best when you said “he was just dealt a bad hand in life.”

Also, the brainwashing portion at the bitter end with slenderman was just great. it was amazing. AND THE LYRA PLOT TWIST???? DONT. GET. ME. STARTED. I WAS SHOOKETH. i wont spoil for all you peoples who haven’t listened to it but its CRAZY.

This one is my second favorite. Its great. Its scary. I loved it.

JACK

Honestly? INCREDIBLY underrated. THIS one is probably tied in first with Jeff. I can’t pick between them because Jeff just holds a special, nostalgic place in my heart, but this one. Ooh. This one.

Jack was the least of my concerns with this one. I’m talking about detective kent and poor sergeant norris. when the you-know-what happened with all of the proxies, my stomach was flipped. I forgot that it was even allowed to happen in this genre. in Hollywood, someone would have swooped in last minute and saved them, but that didn’t happen here. It just goes to show you how twisted david is willing to get.

we also get a lot of tim and brian in this episode!! i love them. i made a post about creepypasta and marble hornet crossovers, and this is a perfect example of a one thats done well. he didn’t make tim a measly little twink, or brian a shy wallflower, but he instead made his own, creative take on both characters. And its great. its all great.

i would dish my opinion on the sally one, but its been a hot minute since i watched it lol. ive watched all of these in the last month or two. I remember the one guy named like…aiden? or something? he disturbed me. i dont remember much else lol.

ONE MORE THING!! Im not sure if hes allowed to do this, but I think a HABIT cameo in one would be SICK. with HABIT’s gorey methods of murder and david’s twisted writing, that could be something AWESOME. maybe im just a die hard emh fan tho…idk…

anyways thank you for listening to my insane ramblings and GO WATCH THE MORGUE FILES IF YOU HAVEN’T EVEN IF YOU DONT LIKE CREEPYPASTA THEY’RE GREAT!! :D

#the morgue files #morgue files #david near #audio drama #i love these so much help

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familyvideostevie · 10 months ago

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hey.

okay. hello! i'm back. :)

maybe you noticed, maybe not, but i have been away for a while.

i wish i could say i've been out living my life, so caught up in happiness and joy and loving each day that i've just not had time for tumblr. but....that is not true. i have been having a tough time! being away has been good, as i've had time to do other things that i like and to put energy into my own well-being, but it hasn't been the best time, I'll tell you that.

i peeked on the dash every now and then to keep my queue full and reblogged soothing things to my main blog and tried my best not to feel guilty about it all (i was also booping on April 1 lol). i just...I really needed a break. i've really enjoyed being here the last six or so months as i've changed my blog and entered the pedro/tlou space but i've also felt so, so alone.

and i know that it doesn't really matter!! like, we should all take breaks and go outside and all that stuff. and I know plenty of people are not very active, but this blog has been such a vital part of my life and happiness since I started it almost two years ago, so any lapse in activity feels like a loss. I've met lifelong friends and flexed my writing muscles and learned a hell of a lot. the fact that I have started to feel isolated and alone on here is a sort of personal betrayal, and there is no one to blame but myself.

So, I’m pulling back.

it means a few things — i don’t know how much writing I’ll be doing from now on. For Joel, especially — it’s been wonderful to meet folks in that community but it has also been really detrimental to my passion for both the game and writing. I’d like to return to some other characters on my masterlist, but we’ll see. I’ve got endless personal projects away from tumblr that I want to pour love and time into (my non-reader fics, my newsletter, a romance novel, a sci-fi novel, poetry, etc). I need to fall in love with my own work again.

it's a me problem, I want to stress that. i'm working on it! irl stuff has been kicking my ass. I've had a really, really hard winter and my mental health has suffered probably more than ever before. i let things I love -- like this blog -- fester and become negative and no longer being me joy. writing became stressful and difficult and I was focused on notes and interaction and looking around me and seeing success and then looking at myself and only seeing lack.

but that's why I took a break! i am getting help and support irl, i am putting in the time and effort to feel better about being alive and to be a better friend and person all around. And I want to tell you all about it because I am so grateful for your time and attention and support, even if we’re just strangers on the internet. i know this probably seems silly -- who cares about a fanfic blog? well, i care! i care a lot! it matters to me and therefore it matters!

anyway. on to the important stuff. here I am! and here's what's going to happen on this blog:

I am working on replying to asks and reblogs and comments I missed. Thank you for being patient with me! I don't know if I'll get to them all but know I see them and I am honored every single time.

I made a totally separate ao3 account with this blog url. I'm working on uploading everything I've posted here onto there and hopefully will continue to crosspost. It is going to take a long, long time, so please be patient! (you can follow my other ao3 here for my non x-reader fanfic).

I posted this fic! Jackson!Joel pulled me back into his world. It’s the first thing I’ve written in ages, so let me know what you think. as of now it's the last planned fic for that series, but who knows!

I hit a milestone while i was away that I am absolutely blown away by. I'm planning a celebration around it sometime this spring (hopefully) and I’d love to see you participate :)

lastly, thank you so much to my friends for letting me complain, whine, winge, etc. I am so sorry for missing all of your work, your celebrations, your bright energies, and all the rest. i am so sorry if it seemed like i was ignoring you. you are my guiding lights, my silver linings, my touchstones. you make me want to be here. i will try to make it up to you!

I want to be online less but make sure I’m connecting more in the moments that i am here. I want to pressure myself to write less and not feel bad that I’m not engaged all the time. I want this blog to once again feel like a place that nourishes me and not sucks me dry. i want to stop feeling like shit about all of it!!!!

so. come hang out in my inbox, my dms, let me know what you've been up to. I am really sorry for missing so much. thank you for sticking around. <3

#personal #this is very long but please read it maybe?#emma rambles #I will reblog it a few times probably

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ask-modern-patrochilles · 6 months ago

Note

out of context where are you? :(

[ Hi! 👋🏼 I didn’t plan on taking another break but it sort of just happened for multiple reasons. I’ll be putting it under the read more tab because boy it’s a Lot ]

[ First off, there’s been a lot of hate going on in the fandom tags, and while I usually just block and go about my day, it’s really exhausting to see so many people hatefully criticizing something you love especially the way you interpret these characters (how they look, how they dress, body type, etc.). It’s made me feel very unwelcome in this space because I’ve seen so many people complaining about how they can’t stand ‘certain interpretations’ of these characters which is almost exactly how I draw and write about them. Every time I go to draw them, I just feel bad and it sucks so much because I still love them!

Second, the racism and elitism which I think speaks for itself. As a person of color (I am Puerto Rican), seeing racism consistently happening in classic fandom spaces is exhausting. My version of Patroclus is Black (with a mixed background), and it’s infuriating and so discouraging and disgusting to see so many people say that Greek mythology characters can’t be Black, despite the historical evidence that says otherwise. The rampant racism, and people making excuses for it, has been very hurtful and discouraging me from creating as well.

Lastly, and less related, I’ve been having a lot going on irl, my cat’s been hospitalized for a week and in process of recovering so I haven’t really had the time to draw these past two weeks even if I felt I up to it.

I’ll probably be back soon, I do have some big plans for this blog! And like I said, I still love tsoa, I love these characters and I’m still writing my fics over on ao3. However, I can’t lie, I’ve been feeling very discouraged from engaging in fandom because of the reasons above. It’s exhausting to see these things, and to post something you worked hard on only to see people being racist and hateful towards it in the end.

But I want to be very clear, there are still so many nice people in this fandom and I am very grateful to those who support my work and are very sweet with their comments in general.

So I hope this little break helps me get that passion for creating back, until then thanks for sticking around! I hope to update again very soon! In the mean time, you are more than welcome to send asks, I might answer a few with text responses if that’s okay with you guys 😊❤️ ]

#asks #not art #angie.txt #I’m so sorry for just disappearing y’all I just haven’t been having a great time in the fandom #like you know how sometimes you get fandom burnout? yeah #like no one that I’ve personally interacted with has made me uncomfortable or anything you guys have been so sweet!#I haven’t even been able to draw for myself though I think the fandom drama has really burnt me out creatively #I promise I’ll be back though!!! ❤️❤️❤️

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justmeinadaze · 1 year ago

Text

I Have Nothing (If I Don't Have You) Part 7 (Steddie X You)

A/N: I was going to release this later but it may be a week or so before I post anything written again because I'm moving. I was writing a lot more these past couple of weeks because I was avoiding packing lol Any way please enjoy the angst.

Warnings: Security Guards/Softly Dom Steddie X Sub Singer Fem reader, I AM PUTTING A DARK THEMES WARNING ON THIS! There is not smut but much angst dealing with addiction and overdosing. Y/N does have a slip and ends up in the hospital. There are talks about her ex and her parents involving trauma. PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS CHAPTER IF THAT MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE!

My inspiration for this chapter was "Dancing with the Devil" by Demi Lovato so that should give you some idea of what you're heading into.

Word Count: 4538

“I’m here with Y/N Y/L/N a few months after her cancelled tour and I think I speak for everyone when I say you look amazing. How have you been?”

“Aw, thank you. I’ve been doing really well actually. I’ve been sober for about six months—”

“Congratulations!”

“Thank you. Thank you so much. It’s been hard but I’m trying.”, you giggle.

“We’ll we’re all routing for you and are extremely proud of you! Now Y/N, I have to ask, do you have any comments in relation to what your ex has been saying in recent interviews.”

Eddie growled low at the question and Steve quickly placed his hand on his shoulder to calm him.

“Um, I mean, Simon can say what he wants. Our relationship was tumultuous to say the least but I’m not allowing him to bother me anymore. I’m in a new healthy relationship and I’d rather focus my energy there.”, you softly smile as your eyes hastily shift their way before coming back to the interviewer.

“Oh my goodness. You are just wonderful. I love it. Do you have any news for us on a new tour or maybe a new album.”

“Right now, I don’t have any plans for another tour but I am working on some new songs so hopefully you guys will get to hear them soon.”

“Well, we’ll keep an eye out and thank you for meeting with us today!”

“And we’re clear!”, a tech guy shouts and the interviewers smile promptly falls. “Oof I need a drink. Alright Y/N, thank you so much doing this.”

“No problem. Thank you for blind siding me with your question about my ex.”

“Hey, he wasn’t on the list of no go questions I got from your team and it’s not like I’m not going to ask when he’s blowing up every form of social media.”

Rolling your eyes, you stalk away from her and out of the studio into a hallway.

“Hey! You okay?”, Steve asks after they both follow you.

“Yeah. I can handle bitches like Becky Stone. I’m struggling a bit with Simon though.”

“I can understand that. Fucking dick has been everywhere since you started getting sober.”, Eddie sighs as he reaches up to pet your head. “You did really well out there.”

After checking your surroundings, you lean in and wrap your arms tightly around him.

“I’m so glad you both are here.”

***

Steve wakes up to the sound of music playing in their living room and you not between them. You had started spending a lot of time and nights at their house saying it made you feel safer. People didn’t know where they lived plus your house was littered with memories you were trying to heal from.

“Hey you. Why are you awake?”, he asked when he found you on their couch strumming your guitar.

“I just had a nightmare and couldn’t go back to sleep so I thought I’d come hang out here.” You smiled as your eyes scanned over his nonprofessional demeanor. Most of the time they were on guard securing you so they were dressed well and alert. In calm moments like this, you found them to be the most attractive. Steve’s honey brown eyes radiated a softness you hadn’t seen in a while. Him in only his black sweats allowed you visual access to the muscles in his arms that made you feel safe and secure especially when he held you. His chest and stomach were always extremely kissable especially when you pressed your face into him after they would make love to you or when you were falling asleep.

When Eddie was at home and relaxed, he usually sauntered around in his boxers and a band shirt of some kind. Curling up in his warm embrace and broad chest was one of your favorite things to do as you kissed his neck and ran your hands along his skin under his attire.

You loved being able to let down your own guard with them and allow them to take care of you in more ways than one.

“You know you should really learn to play, Stevie. With those beautiful hands, you could have all the ladies swooning.”

“Oh?”, he chuckles. “What if I only want one girl to swoon over me?”

“For that you can just use your hands for other things.”

He laughs again when you wink and smiles before patting his knee for you come sit on. Placing your guitar to the side you, you go to him, and seat yourself horizontally in his lap, resting your head in the nook of his neck. His palm gently caresses your bare legs as his other rubs along your back.

“Do you want to tell me what you were dreaming about?”

“I don’t want to make you feel bad.”, you coo as your voice dips into that little girl tone telling him all he needs to know.

“Was it about Simon?” Steve kisses your forehead when you nod. “I can understand that. You went through a lot with him and his more recent need for attention isn’t helping. You know, though, we would never let him hurt you again, right?”

“I know, baby.”

He grins when you place your lips on his.

“Come on, honey. Let’s wake up Eddie and see if we can help get you to sleep.” You giggle when he stands up with you in his arms and carries you back to the bedroom.

###########

“God, I hate Becky Stone.”, Sarah sighs before taking a bite of her food you guys had brought her. “But you did phenomenal, Y/N.”

Grinning at her, you glance towards the boys who playfully smile back before Eddie gestures with his eyes towards your own food silently telling you to keep eating.

“I’m still working with our lawyer about Simon and getting a cease and desist but there’s only so much we can do because it’s just him flapping his gums, you know.”

“I know. I mean fuck him right?”

“Yes, ma’am. Of course, the three of us will do whatever we can to keep him away from you. Speaking of…”, she turns towards your security. “How did the interview go with Pearce Security? I know we’d hate to see you guys leave but that is an amazing company.”

Their wide eyes find yours as everyone freezes.

“Um, we think it went well. We haven’t heard back from them though.”

“Good. If they need a recommendation…or…anything…Y/N, are you ok?”, your agent asked as she gave you her attention. Your eyes were closed as your breathing became a bit more erratic. No, you were not ok; you were panicking. Sarah grabbed a pen off her desk and threw it in their direction. “You assholes didn’t tell her?!”

“We didn’t want to worry her if we didn’t get the job.”, Steve explained.

“Of course, you’ll get the fucking job. You both are good at what you do!”, you shout.

“Y/N, honey, breathe.”, Sarah tried to soothe. “You two leave and let her calm down.”

Nodding, they exit the office and wait in the lobby. An hour passed before your agent’s door finally opened and your seemingly calm demeanor sauntered out, swishing passed them as you headed for the elevator. They followed you silently till you got to their car in the parking garage.

“I would like you to take me home, please.”

“I…I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Well, Mr. Munson, I don’t pay you for your ideas. I pay you to secure me so, please, secure me home.”

“Really? You’re going to throw a tantrum and we’re not even going to talk about this?”

“Oh, Mr. Harrington? NOW you want to talk? Honestly, there’s nothing to talk about. I really hope you do get that job. You’re great at what you do. Hopefully, your next client isn’t someone that requires as much up keep as I did.”

“Y/N—”

“Mr. Munson, I don’t want to hear it—”

“Yeah but you will!”, Eddie interrupts. “This right here is exactly why we didn’t say anything. We knew you would take it personally when quite frankly, sweetheart, this has nothing to do with you. This is our dream, Y/N. Just like with you and singing.”

“If we decided to take this job, we’d still be here for you, honey. You’re our girl. We…we love you, Y/N.”

Tears began to fall as you hugged your arms around yourself.

“People who say they love me abandon me or use me. Don’t love me. Just go and forget about me. You both deserve better than me anyway.” As you start to walk away, Steve grabs your arm but you promptly smack him before running.

Both men are hot on your trail before losing you as you jump into a cab and it speeds away.

##############

“FUCK!”, Eddie roars as he throws the pen he was using against the wall. “She’s so FUCKING STUBBORN! That’s a no on the hotel by the airport, Harrington.”

Both men had been hunting for you since you disappeared. Not playing games with them this time, you turned off your phone entirely so they couldn’t track you. They checked your house as well as any place you might normally be and had yet to find you. Currently they were calling every hotel in LA searching for any name they thought you may be under to no avail.

“Sarah’s right. We should have talked to her.”

“She’s still so fragile, Munson. We didn’t want to rattle her if we didn’t have to.”

“Oh yeah, Steve, because this is fucking better. Yeah! What?!” Eddie’s phone had vibrated to life with a number he didn’t recognize and he angrily answered without thinking.

“Heeeey Eddie.”

The metalhead’s head shot up as his eyes met Steve’s at the sound of your slurred voice, quickly putting you speaker.

“Y/N? Sweetheart, where are you?”

“Oh, honey, you don’t have to be so nice to me anymore.”, you giggle but there’s a huskiness behind you tone that tells them wherever you’ve been you’ve been crying.

As soon as they realized it was you calling, Steve went to work trying to find you. Your phone was still off but the number you were calling from was local.

“Ok…you don’t want me to be nice?”, Eddie sighs as he switches gears shifting into his more dominate tone. “Tell me where you are now, little girl. You already scared us half to death. Now, where are you so we can bring you home.”

“Home… I don’t have a home… This is ma life, sweetie. Gah, what was I thinkin’ pretending to be sober?”

Steve grabbed the phone from his friend and handed him his own.

“Y/N, you weren’t pretending. You were doing so well. If you slipped because you’re scared that’s ok. We’ll still love you, honey.”

“Stop. Saying. That.”

“What? Telling you the truth? I LOVE YOU!”

“STOP!”

“I love you to, sweetheart.” Eddie flashes Steve his screen showing him the number that you’re calling him from IS from a hotel that’s not too far from them.

They pause when they hear knocking on your side of line.

“Y/N…Whose there with you, baby?”

“Don’t love me. I deserve…I deserve men like him. At least I know what to expect…”

“Y/N! Did you OD in there or what?! I’m all alone out here.”

“Y/N.”, Steve warns at the sound of Simon’s voice as his tone drops into a strong authoritative growl that pushes through your inebriated brain. “You are not safe with that man. Do you hear me? Tell me where you are NOW.”

“I can’t—”

“No. This is security Steve and Eddie talking to you. You are in danger. We know what hotel you’re at but we need the room. If you don’t tell me, I swear to God Y/N, we will kick down every door searching for you. Do you understand me?”

“Yes. I…I’m sorry.”

As soon as you give them the room number, they grab their keys, and run towards their car.

“Listen to me very carefully. Stay where you are and keep the door locked. We’re on our way.”

The sound of you heavily inhaling through your nose makes them cringe in anger. They weren’t angry with you but themselves. They should have been up front with you and told you everything; reassured you that if they did move on to a different job they’d still be there for you because they cared about you so much.

You started saying something to them but it didn’t make any sense.

“Y/N, you’re slurring too much. I can’t understand you, baby.”

Eddie pushed his foot on the gas as he sped towards the hotel. He knew what that meant and knew they needed to get to you.

“…I say…I…love…you.”

***

They don’t even bother knocking, the door banging open as Steve kicks it in.

“What the fuck?!”, Simon drunkenly hollers as he tries to get to his feet.

“Stay down.”, the boy warns while Eddie runs into the bedroom and pounds his palm on the bathroom door.

“Y/N, it’s Eddie and Steve, sweetheart. Open the door.” After counting to five with no answer, his boot connects the wood and it swings open. Finding you on the floor passed out, he collects you in his arms, and lightly taps your cheeks. “Y/N, open your eyes for me, pretty girl. Come on, now.”

“Yes, we need an ambulance now!”, Steve yells into the phone as he grabs your ex’s collar and forcefully shakes him. “What did she take?!”

“Jesus, I don’t fucking know. Get off me.”

“What do you mean you don’t know!?”, he shouts as he smacks him hard. “She didn’t have anything on her so whatever she took YOU brought!”

“Oh please.”, he slurs. “She fooled you with that sober routine? Small town whores like her never change. Trust me.”

Steve punches him in the face, throwing him to the ground before running to the bathroom and watching as Eddie rubs your back as you throw up in the toilet.

“I know. I know it hurts, baby. You have to get as much of it out as you can.” Collapsing into his arms again, you cried into his neck as he rocked you back and forth. “Good girl, princess. Stay with us, okay? Everything’s ok.”

##############

Sarah fiddles with a keychain on her keys as the boys and her wait to hear anything from the doctor. As soon as the guys called her, she ran down to the hospital sporting her jeans and a pajama shirt. Eddie had offered her his jacket which she appreciated.

What she didn’t appreciate, however, was when Jack (your ex-agent) sauntered in with a smugness that made all three of them want to hit him.

“Wow, Sarah. You had her for what, six months, and she ODed. Good job.”

“Fuck off, Jack. Why are you even here?”

“Because you’re going to need me for something this big. After six months of sobriety, she overdosed on a hotel bathroom floor with the ex who’s been badmouthing her to the press in the next room.”

“I think you forget; I was her publicist. I know how to handle the press and her image. To be honest, that’s the last thing on my fucking mind.”

“That should be the first. At this rate no one in this room is going to have a job. Either she’ll kill her reputation or herself.”

Eddie angrily rose to his feet to confront the man but Steve hastily grabbed his shoulder.

“Get the fuck out. She fired you, you’re not welcome here. Get. Out.”

“As far as I can tell, you two are the ones that shouldn’t be welcome. She’s never been this bad.”

“Oh please. She was worse before we came into the picture but you were too greedy on the money she was bringing in to notice. As long as she continued to sing and bring in income, you didn’t care how wasted she was!”

“Last time I checked, you boys are security. You’re not her father or boyfriend—”

“Sure, because men like Simon and their opinions about her matter so much more.”, Eddie growled. “And last time I checked, her father doesn’t care about her either. She needs people in her life who give a damn.”

“Yeah well, you can take that up with her parents because I called them.”

“You what?”, Sarah asked as she rose to her feet as well.

“She’s their daughter.”

“Since when?”, Steve accused. “That was not your call to make. Their judgements are the last thing she needs right now.”

“For Miss Y/L/N?”, the doctor calls as he comes around the corner.

As everyone moves forward, Eddie places his palm on Jack’s chest, stopping him and motioning for the security guard behind the nurse’s station.

“This man is not with our party and he has no family or relatives here. If you could escort him out we’d appreciate it.”

“YOU’RE GOING TO NEED ME, SARAH!”, Jack shouts as they drag him towards the exit. “This is about to get out of control!!”

***

“So, she’ll be ok?”, Sarah asks as she anxiously adjusts the blanket by your feet.

“Yes, ma’am. You got her here just in time it seems. Legally, we have to keep her for 72 hours for observation but even if we didn’t I would anyway. She had a lot of drugs in her system… I know she’s an alcoholic…Thankfully we didn’t find any in her stomach. I fear if she had been drinking…”

“She’s been sober for about 8 months.”, Steve murmured as his fingers reached down to gently caress your arm.

“I see. Well…slip ups are normal. Honestly 8 months without one is a quite a feat. She should be proud of that.”

“Knowing her, she won’t. She’s going to wake up and blame herself.”, Eddie sighed as his eyes scanned your sleeping face.

The doctor could only nod before he finally continued, addressing the boys.

“We do have security watching the doors to keep out fans and paparazzi. Is there anything else we should be aware of or people we should be on the lookout for?”

“That idiot we just threw out said he called her parents but they’ve never come to California before and I really don’t think they will now but I have a picture of them from her social media. I can give them to your security.”, Sarah confirms.

“Also this man…”, Steve flashes the doctor his phone. “Her ex is not allowed anywhere near her. If we can keep him out of the hospital entirely that would be great. He ran off before EMS arrived.”

“Simon Gates? That’s the one the police are looking for. Ok. We can do that. She’s safe here, guys. I promise.”

Eddie offers Sarah a chair after the doctor leaves but she shakes her head as she gathers her things.

“Now that I know she’s ok, I’m going to go home real quick and change. I’ll post a statement and get anything else from her house she may want. I assume you two aren’t going anywhere?” She grins when they nod. “Ok, good. I’ll be right back.”

As the door swings shut, the metalhead reaches out to touch your face.

“This is our fault, Steve.”

“Eddie—”

“Look at her!”, he hisses through his teeth. “Look at her. We should have told her the truth. We asked her to put her faith in us and we still fucking hid something from her.”

“I know! I fucking know but THIS is why I thought we didn’t tell her.”

“How do you think that made her feel?! That we didn’t trust her enough to handle news that involved our future, a future that we want her to be a part of!”

They glared at each other before turning in the opposite directions but the sound of groaning got their attention as they towards you.

“Hey. Hey, pretty girl. How are you feeling?”

Your eyes took in their worried exhausted demeanors as you remained silent.

“Honey, are you ok?” Again, no response as you shifted your gaze towards the wall behind them. “Y/N, baby, please. Talk to us. Tell us what’s going on inside your head.”

Sighing, each boy took a seat as you quietly began to cry.

***

“Uh, Mr. Munson?”, one of the guards called as he poked his head into your room. “There’s a man out here claiming to be your uncle.”

Flashing the man a quizzical look, he headed for the hallway, bewildered by the sight of his uncle who was leaning against the wall waiting.

“Wayne? Hey, what are you doing here?” Extending his arms, they hugged each other before Eddie nodded at the guard.

“I saw on the news Y/N was hospitalized so I came down as quick as I could. With the way you talk about her, I knew this would be hard so I didn’t want you two to be alone.”

“You didn’t have to do that but I really appreciate it. The doctor said physically she’s doing much better but she hasn’t said a word since she woke up. We’re concerned.”

After entering your room, Steve stands to shake the man’s hand as Wayne comes around to sit in the empty chair beside him.

“Sweetheart, this is my uncle Wayne Munson.”

Your eyes flick towards him for a moment before shifting them back where they were causing both men to glance towards each other nervously. As the night droned on, you listened to them talk to each other until a nurse arrived to check your vitals and bring you something to eat.

“Y/N, honey, you have to eat.”, Steve cooed as you stared at the tray in front of you silently.

“Hey, uh, boys why don’t you take a break and go get some coffee. Bring me a cup as well, hm?”, Wayne suggested giving the man pause.

Tugging on his sleeve, Eddie ushered his friend towards the door knowing that his uncle would keep an eye on you while they were gone.

“My nephew says you have an extremely beautiful voice. He would definitely know. Kid’s been into music since he was born. His mom used to rock him back and forth when he would cry and sing some old songs from musicals she loved.” Wayne’s eyes shifted towards you but as soon as they met yours you looked away. “There was one she used to sing all the time from that one movie with Olivia Newton-John and he would just giggle up at her.”

Rising to his feet, he nonchalantly removed the plastic around your fork and opened the can of ginger ale they had brought you, pouring it into your Styrofoam cup.

“You remind me of her a bit. She was such a strong woman… I remember once, when she found out she was pregnant, she asked me ‘Wayne, what if I fuck up?’ and I told her that if she did that’s alright. Nobody is perfect. As long as you keep trying and keep working to move forward…if you falter…then, sweetheart, it’s ok.”

Your bottom lip trembled as you absorbed what he was saying.

“My brother, Eddie’s dad, never tried. Even after my nephew was born and his wife passed, he just kept getting worse till he ended up in jail.”

Lifting your cup, he brings the straw to your lips and flashes you a small smile when you take a drink.

“God, I wish I could remember the name of the song his mom used to sing it was something like ‘But now there's nowhere to hide since you pushed my love aside—”

“I'm out of my head…Hopelessly devoted to you…”, you sang in response making his grin grow.

It was just then that the two of you realized Eddie and Steve had been standing by the door watching everything unfold.

“Yeah, that’s the one.”

############

That following morning, you still weren’t very talkative but the guys were content with the fact that at least you were eating and doing things the doctors suggested. Whenever there was lull in the room, Eddie’s uncle would talk to you about random things making you smile occasionally.

Commotion in the hallway, however, grabbed their attention as they slipped into security mode and commanded you both stay put. As they entered the hallway, a couple of photographers were being held back as doctors ran through with a gurney into an awaiting operating room.

“What’s going on?”, Steve asked in a firm tone.

“Police found the boyfriend. They’ve been trying to revive him but nothing is taking.”

“Ex-boyfriend. What do you mean revive him?”

“A friend of his called saying he passed out on their floor. They found much harder drugs than what your client had.”, the hospital security sighed.

“Shit.”, Eddie exhaled as well, walking with his friend back to your room only to find you both gone. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

It doesn’t take them long to find you, skidding past an open door where you and Wayne were standing. The man kept a firm grip on your arm as you watched through the glass in front of you while nurses and doctors did what they could to save Simon.

“Honey, you shouldn’t see this.”

Steve reaches for your hand but you promptly yank it back.

“I’m not glass, Steven. You can stop treating me like any little thing is going to break me.”, you whisper.

“I see we’re back in our old mindset. Wayne, would you mind?”, Eddie asks as he gestures towards the door.

“I’ll be in her room. Be gentle, Edward.”, he warns making the metalhead nod.

“Sweetheart, this…”, he continues as he points towards your ex. “…this isn’t a little thing. Don’t treat it like it is. You need to feel what you’re feeling.”

“Stop. Stop talking to me like child.”

“Fine. Then let me talk to you like a boyfriend who loves you. That was you 36hrs ago… own it.”

“Y/N, you didn’t fail just because you made a mistake. You did the right thing by calling us and getting us to you. You could have been like him and ran but you didn’t. That’s a wonderful improvement. The old you would have been in jail or worse.”

Your head hung as you begun to cry and Steve gently reached out with his fingers to lift your chin.

“You deserve better than me.”, you reply in a hoarse voice.

“And you, baby, deserve better than this.”, he absently gestures around the hospital room. “The problem is you don’t believe it.”

Beeping fills your ears and the three of you turn just in time to see the machine flat line as the doctors in the room exhale heavily.

Your knees gave out and Steve quickly caught you, falling to the floor with you as he pressed your head to his chest. Eddie sunk down beside you, his hand petting your hair as they listened to you sob.

“It’s ok, sweetheart. Everything’s ok.”

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry for everything. I love you…”

“Shhh. It’s ok, Y/N. We love you to. We’re right here. We’re not going anywhere.”

Series here

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