#grief of the person i wanted and thought he was

[sunderwight]

Shen Qingqiu gets hit by a rare wife plot.

And it actually is a rare one because Airplane didn't even write this one down! He toyed with the idea before ultimately dismissing it as being too controversial for the tastes of his readers, and adapting only a few of the same elements for a subsequent chapter of PIDW.

But apparently the System can pull inspiration even from the author's thoughts, especially when there's nothing to contradict the concept and even a few threads of it still to be found in the original, and somehow Shen Qingqiu runs afoul of this previously-unwritten plot bunny.

The core concept was a cuck scenario, of all things. One of the Luo Binghe's wives gets afflicted by a poison that can only be cured by dual cultivation, but specifically can't be cured by by dual cultivation with anyone who has mastery over demonic qi. Something something conflicting energies, something bullshit something. Peerless Cucumber would have ripped the chapter to shreds if it had actually made it to publication, not just for the insult of implying that Luo Binghe should let one of his wives sleep with someone else, but also because why would Luo Binghe -- able to use both kinds of cultivation -- somehow not be able to keep his demonic energies from influencing the situation just in this one case?

Well it turns out that in his specific case it's because sex gets him too worked up to keep things strictly separate, and the degree of control required to treat the affliction whilst dual cultivating is extensive enough that even a little slip-up would be fatal.

Of course, in the actual chapter of PIDW, this same plot device was altered and used to create a harem orgy where Luo Binghe oversaw several of his wives "treating" one another's "afflictions", but Shen Qingqiu just had to go and get a fatal of dose of the more severe version (he didn't realize the risk, because again, this version didn't even make it into the novel).

Anyway, of course this ends up with Shen Qingqiu trying to figure out another way to cheat death, while Luo Binghe goes through the five stages of grief before accepting that he's just going to have to let someone else fuck his husband. This leads to an argument because of course Shen Qingqiu's not going to cheat on Luo Binghe, and he's especially not going to force one of his martial siblings to sleep with him, come on now, and Luo Binghe trying not to cry tears of blood while bringing himself to explain that a fair few of Shen Qingqiu's sect siblings would be happy volunteers for this task.

Shen Qingqiu's just like, well of course you think that, for some bizarre reason you think everyone wants to sleep with me. Bias is what it is. Really it's flattering Binghe but obviously every other person we know is straight, that's just statistics, and everyone in the entire cultivation world knows that Qi Qingqi would sooner chew glass than have sex with a man!

Luo Binghe, weeping now: Shizun please. This is serious. I need you speak words that make sense in the order you're saying them.

They argue, they reach an impasse, the clock is ticking. So Luo Binghe reluctantly turns to the most reliable source of information (outside of himself) on Manipulating Shen Qingqiu to Do Things That Are in His Own Best Interests -- Shang Qinghua.

At first Shang Qinghua is like, well I'm flattered Junshang but I don't think I could shoulder the baggage of fucking Cucumber-bro for you. But then Luo Binghe is like no I need someone who is way hotter and more capable than you, if Shizun is going to fuck someone else at my behest they're going to be TOP TIER so that when I fuck him better afterwards he's really impressed with me. Liu Qingge, obviously.

Not Yue Qingyuan, Shang Qinghua asks? (He'd take the insult a little more personally but honestly he's just relieved that he's not being asked to navigate this social minefield.)

No, Luo Binghe says. He's not 100% sure he could beat Yue Qingyuan in a fight even to this day, which in his mind also translates to not being 100% sure he could do sex better than him either, so Yue Qingyuan is an emergency last resort. He's way more likely to cry on Shizun too and Shen Qingqiu is into that shit, it's too risky.

Alright, says Shang Qinghua, and he thinks about it, and then he comes up with the beautifully simple solution:

Luo Binghe has to fuck Liu Qingge first.

Because of course the crux of the issue is that even with permission, Shen Qingqiu doesn't want to cheat on Luo Binghe. But in the twisted annals of his mind, Luo Binghe himself is still entitled to a harem, even if Luo Binghe is also happily monogamous in this life. So if he shacks up with Liu Qingge first then Liu Qingge essentially joins Luo Binghe's harem, at which point if Shen Qingqiu sleeps with him it's not an affair, it's the gay version of those fanservice-y 3P scenes that the wives in PIDW did. Shang Qinghua translates the concept as best as he can to Luo Binghe, who -- though slightly dubious -- must accept that so far Shang Qinghua's wisdom hasn't steered him wrong with regards to his shizun's eccentricities.

Luo Binghe's mission: seduce Liu Qingge, or at least convince him to have sex, or possibly to lie and (convincingly!) tell Shen Qingqiu that they had sex. That last one is the longest shot so he's probably going to have to just fuck him (Luo Binghe still underestimates how willing his husband is to believe that just about anyone would have sex with him).

Shang Qinghua's mission: convince Shen Qingqiu that he owes his husband steamy threeway gay sex or something so that this plan he pulled out of his ass doesn't backfire and get him killed.

[kiame-sama]

HAE Valentines Special~

Valentines really isn't a thing in the HAE AU, given the have mostly different holidays, but i figured y'all could have a little confession/love thing. I was going to write NSFW for the Dorm Leaders for Valentines day, but time got away from me. instead, here is a little something different.

Warnings: Still yandere, HAE TWST AU, monster AU, Human/Reader is (They/them) to be inclusive, suggestive themes, ficlets, kissing, confessions, suggested cannibalism (Azul path), Unicorn, Nemean Lion, Caecilia, Genie, Harpy, Shinigami, Dragon

Riddle Rosehearts:

"Everything needs to be perfect!"

The Unicorn huffed as he looked over the preparations for the day's Unbirthday party. This would officially be the fifth time he has rechecked the preparations and Trey couldn't help but feel amused at how stressed his friend was.

Though Unbirthdays were common when it came to their dorm, this was supposed to be a special one for several reasons. The beloved Human of Night Raven College was going to be attending this one and Riddle was planning to confess his feelings for them. It was no secret the Unicorn had feelings for the Human, though the Human seemed to be unaware of how the Unicorn actually felt for them.

Still, that didn't mean Trey couldn't have a bit of fun with his close friend.

"I don't know, Riddle, do you think the roses should be painted a different color?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, painting the white roses red is traditional for an Unbirthday party, but this isn't just an Unbrithday party anymore. Why not paint them something that goes with (Y/n)? Like their favorite color?"

"That's-! Actually... that isn't a bad idea."

The Unicorn turned back to look at the roses but another voice cut in before he could decide what to do. That voice belonged to the Human that everyone seemed to adore as they walked over with a warm smile on their face. If anything, it was more surprising that the Human came to the Unbirthday party at all given how Riddle reacted during the first Unbirthday party they attended.

He was determined to not make the same mistake.

"(Y/n), you're early!"

"Well, I thought I could show up and lend a hand! I am enjoying the party too, I shouldn't just get to sit on the sidelines and not help out. What do you need me to do?"

Riddle was thrown off by the sudden offer to assist him and he could feel his chest tightening as his face warmed with a flaming blush. He wanted to wait to confess his feelings for them at the height of the party, perhaps even during croquet. Still, something about the affectionate and kind Human made Riddle absolutely melt and all of that careful planning fell to the wayside.

"(Y/n)," He started, picking up their hands in his own and kissing the back of one affectionately, "the only thing I need from you is for you to listen."

"Okay?"

Riddle swallowed hard, suddenly feeling his mouth go dry as he tried to cobble together what he wanted to say. Nights spent practicing and rehearsing for this moment all suddenly seemed so distant and far out of his reach as he struggled to find the words he was looking for. Luckily for him, dear (Y/n) was as patient as ever to let the Unicorn gather up his thoughts.

"I have spent my life trying to be the best I can, from classes, to being a son, and yet it always felt so hollow and empty. Despite everything I could want being available to me, there was nothing I actually needed. Not until... until I met you. I know I have no right to ask this of you, and I understand if you turn me down but I... I..."

He struggled to force the words out of his mouth as he found himself choking at the last minute. The idea that this amazing person could turn him down poisoned his thoughts and made tears fill in his eyes, especially because he knew he wouldn't be able to handle being rejected. He needed the Human to accept his love completely and wholly or he would lose his mind in grief.

"I love you too, Riddle."

Those words made his mind come to a screeching halt as his breath caught in his throat. He was quick to glance up from their hands to their gently smiling expression as his heart leaped into his throat.

"Y-you do?"

"Of course I do. How could I not?"

"Because I'm such a mess! I attacked you when I Overblotted and-"

He cut off sharply as their hand rest against his cheek, gently pulling him down to lock their lips with his. The Unicorn couldn't help but let out a soft little squealing neigh at the feel of his lips pressed against their own and he hungrily melted into the gentle affection. Their warm body against his own had his face blushing bright red. Riddle found himself panting and longing for more when they broke the sweet kiss, pulling back to look at him adoringly.

"I love you, Riddle Rosehearts."

"And I love you (Y/N). I always will."

~~~~~~~~

Leona Kingscholar:

"Oi, Leona, get up and help!"

Ruggie grumbled his complaints to the dorm leader, who was lounging on some sun warmed rocks as he spent the day dreaming and thinking about what could be, if he only tried. The dorm had been cleaning and tidying up after a rather eventful evening in anticipation of that blessed Human stopping by. Naturally, the lazy Lion wasn't too interested in helping out his Pride even though he was the primary reason the dorm was so messy.

Wrestling and playful fights were common in Savanaclaw and Leona had been the undefeated champion of his Pride for a while now. The night prior has gone about the same and made it clear to all the newcomers that Leona was the leader of his Pride for a reason.

"Nah."

"The hell you mean, nah? (Y/n) is gonna be here any minute-!"

"That's why you're here, Ruggie. It's your job to clean, not mine."

"You-!"

The Gnoll seemed more than a little annoyed with Leona and was about to voice that frustration when another voice was carried over on the wind. (Y/n) had said they would come over for a visit and maybe even make some lunch for the dorm, so they were an expected presence. Still, it made Leona's heart leap up into his throat when he heard them.

The Lion was quick to rise to his paws when he heard the shouted greeting and seemed to have a kind of energy now that he knew his favorite squeaky toy was present. He couldn't resist the lazy smile pulling at his face as he saw that soft Human making their way over to him with a happy smile. What he wouldn't give to have that smile for himself, to keep and to be the only one that got to see such an affectionate expression.

"Mousey, took you long enough."

"Oh, hush. You know it takes a lot for me to be able to slip away from the others to even come here."

"I know. Did that Lizard throw a fit over it?"

"Of course he did, you know how Malleus is, Leona."

He did know.

Leona knew that the Dragon was far too interested in (Y/n) and it made hate burn in the pit of his stomach to think about that overgrown Lizard getting his hands on that soft Human. The idea that he could be relegated to second place yet again only made the anger burn brighter. Years of being second place to everyone else left a chip on the Lion's shoulder regarding the way others perceived him and how he always seemed to be the secondary choice.

He wasn't going to let himself stay second place anymore.

"So what did you want to do-"

The Human's questioning tone cut off as the Lion pulled them to his chest, locking his lips almost immediately with the surprised Human. They hesitated for just a moment before reciprocating the kiss, much to the Lion's enjoyment and vague astonishment. He figured they were fond of him to some extent, but it felt so nice to be able to have that affection returned in full.

As he broke the kiss, he almost chuckled when he saw the slightly dazed expression of that soft Human staring up at him. If they kept looking at him like that, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from taking more than just a little kiss from them.

"You're mine, you got that, Mousey? All mine. That damned Lizard doesn't get to have you anymore. I am your number one."

This made a small smile pull at their lips as they leaned into the hold of the Lion. It was almost laughable to Leona now to think that he ever believed they could possibly like that Lizard more than they loved him. He was dangerous and came from a long line of Human eaters, but they were never bothered by what his ancestors had done in the past.

"All yours."

~~~~~~~~

Azul Ashengrotto:

Azul nervously sat glancing at the phone in front of him as he awaited the arrival of his date for the evening. He had gone though countless plans and countless ideas before he settled on the current one, and now he had to wait while the time ticked away.

It was a relatively cool evening in the Mostro Lounge and Azul had ensured to reserve the entire VIP section just for this occasion. If anything he was nervous and vaguely worried that his invited date wasn't going to show up despite the fact that they had agreed and it was still early to the time he requested they arrive. Still, he found himself constantly looking back to check the time only to see seconds had passed despite the fact that it had felt like hours to him.

The VIP section was lit with small candles and had been cleared out of everything excepting one round table that had two chairs on either side of it. The view of the large external aquarium was quite lovely from where the table was placed as a pair of whale-sharks slowly swam by, circling and dancing together in playful affection. Even the silk table cloth he had placed over the table seemed to have the gentle reflections of light through the water shining onto it, making it look just as fluid.

"Oya, Azul, you seem so pent up and stressed. Could it be you are worried about being rejected?"

The gentle teasing of his second in command and childhood friend, Jade, chimed out and Azul couldn't stop the way he glared over at the smiling Eel. Of course he was nervous and terrified. He didn't know what he would do if he was rejected after going through all of this effort to put together a nice dinner for himself and the soft Human he adored.

There was a part of him- the part he kept mostly hidden- that insisted there was no way the Human could ever love a crybaby like him. Why would they go for someone like him when they could have their pick of anyone in the world? Princes, wealthy tycoons, Kings, anyone they wanted would happily accept their affections, so why would they settle for someone like him?

Jade was well aware of Azul's stress, as the Octopus couldn't even snap back in reply to the light teasing. It was clear to anyone that knew Azul that he was nervous and could hardly sit still in his own seat. His eyes glanced back to the time and he felt his three hearts pound heavily in his chest.

It was time.

"Hey, Azul! Hope I'm not late."

The kind voice of the Human he adored filled his head and only made his hearts hammer even faster as he stood to greet them. They were breath-taking, dressed in the fine clothing he had sent along with the invitation to this candlelit dinner and he almost swooned when he saw them. They looked absolutely enchanting beneath the shining light from the aquarium and he couldn't help but blush bright blue.

"Goodness, this place is beautiful! I don't think I've ever been in the VIP section before. Did you do all of this for me?"

He did. Azul had even gone as far as to sever one of his own tentacles- it would grow back- so he could have a unique dish to serve them just for the occasion. It was typical of male Caecilia to offer their own tentacles as a meal to their mates, he just hoped the Human would accept him as their mate.

"It isn't much," he stated, gently leading the Human to the waiting table, "but I do hope you like it."

"Of course I do. But, this doesn't seem like a friendly little dining experience, is it? This seems more like a date to me."

"W-what? I- Well this isn't- I mean, it could be if you wanted? If you don't want it to be-"

Azul stumbled over his words, feeling his entire face flush a deep cerulean as he tried to save face. Those thoughts and ramblings all came to a screeching halt as the Human gently rest their hand against his cheek, pulling him into a light kiss that left him breathless.

"I would love for this to be our first official date."

"I love you, (Y/n)!"

"And I love you too, my sweet octopus."

~~~~~~~~

Kalim Al-Asim:

Food of varying spices and make were lain out among the various seating areas of the Scarabia dorm, while the dorm members happily sat and talked to one another in excitement. It was normal for the dorm to be having a little celebration amongst themselves, but there was to be a unique guest of honor arriving soon and it had them all buzzing in excitement. Almost everyone in the dorm adored their dorm leader and they were all hoping that the party would go in his favor.

Unlike most in Night Raven College, Kalim Al-Asim was a kind soul who tried to help others despite his own failing in magic. Those who were in the Scarabia dorm had long come to appreciate the Genie that greeted them with warm smiles and affectionate behavior. They were also all in on the plan to get Kalim and the Human he so clearly adored together in a relationship.

Jamil- Kalim's right hand and Vice-Housewarden- was not of the same enthusiasm as the others, but he was still willing to lend his help to the Genie he had spent his life serving. He had been the one to craft all of this fine food, after all, and he was willing to do what it took to keep the Human close, even if meant he had to share with the air-headed Genie. Now, all that was needed was the Human themselves and then the party could really get into full swing.

"Kalim!"

A familiar voice called out and the Genie was quick to rush over to them, almost tackling the Human in an excited hug as he nuzzled against their neck. They chuckled and returned the affectionate hug with their own as they allowed the Genie to pull them to where he had been resting as the head of the group. A kind of hush fell over the gathered students who were all excited to see their beloved Housewarden with the Human he clearly adored.

"(Y/n), before we get the party started, I have something to tell you!"

"Oh? And what would that be?"

Kalim found himself somewhat nervous, but his face didn't show it as he smiled at them, trying to get his ever bouncing mind to calm down just enough to speak his peace. He really hoped that (Y/n) would return his affections at best, or at worse still want to be friends with him after he confessed his feelings for them. The only thing he had to do was actually confess to them the way he had planned.

He seemed to remember the speech he and Jamil had written out has he quickly grabbed the paper from his pocket, looking over it quickly to try and find exactly what he was looking for. He frowned at the paper- as well written as it was- and decided that he no longer needed it. If he was going to pour out his heart, he couldn't let some silly paper get in the way of it.

"(Y/n), I know I'm not the best at magic, and I know my wishes are dangerous, but even with all of that, you're always so nice to me. You don't get mad when I forget things. You don't yell at me when I get a little loud. You're always there when I need you to be and you don't ask me for things in return for you kindness. I feel like I can't think most days, but suddenly I can think like a genius whenever you are close to me. (Y/n), I like you. I really like you. No, I love you, and I was just wondering if there was a way you could possibly love me too?"

There was a moment of silence as the surprised Human stared at him and he felt his heart racing in his chest. Only in that quiet did he possibly think that maybe the Human didn't feel the same way for him as he felt for them and that idea made his heart constrict. He was almost ready to nervously shout that it was all some joke before they smiled at him, pulling him close to press their lips against his.

The moment their lips touched, the other students in the dorm began to cheer, but it all fell on deaf ears. Kalim couldn't believe it. He was actually kissing them! They were so soft and gentle against his lips, he couldn't help but excitedly pull them closer as his Genie tail wound around them to hold them against his chest.

"Of course I love you, Kalim. How could I not?"

The Genie let out a loud cheering whoop which was echoed in kind by the others around him as the Party began in earnest, the Genie never leaving the side of the Human he adored. Even as the Naga glared from the sidelines, feeling maligned and ignored in the height of it all, it did mean that the Human would stay close, and perhaps he could worm his way into their heart the same way Kalim had.

He just needed to bide his time and let the chips fall where they may before he made his move.

~~~~~~~~

Vil Schoenheit:

Another day done, another meaningless photo shoot. As per usual, the great Vil Schoenheit looked amazing on the cameras and off of them, yet he found himself missing a key piece to his the event. No matter how many photos he took or how he posed, he never seemed to have that same spark as he did when his beloved (Y/n) was taking photos with him.

Something about the way they fit in his arms and melted into his hold had the Harpy yearning for their touch and their ever affectionate smile they gifted him that always seemed to be able to make him breathless. He could feel the way his tail ruffled and moved when he thought of them, just wanting to display and dance for the Human that he wholeheartedly adored. What he wouldn't give to have them by his side and hold onto him the way he longed to hold onto them.

Even as his manager spoke with the photographers and parsed out more deals and photoshoots to be had, he found himself not interested in the simplicity of their conversations. Not even the modeling contracts he had held the same interest they once did before he met the Human he had fallen so hard for. Countless others swooned and praised his name, longing for just a moment of his time or attention, yet his heart was set on the one who never seemed to seek him out.

"Roi du Poison!"

The familiar name his boon companion used for him drew the contemplative Harpy out of his thoughts, his purple eyes flicking over to see what it was the eccentric Drider needed from him. The moment he saw the Drider everything else seemed to fall away, as that soft and lovely Human was approaching with him. Naturally, the photographers seemed to notice the profound change in the typically icy model as he warmed and a smile took over his smooth expression.

This was no demure smile, mind you. The smile that pulled at Vil's lips was one of genuine affection and joy as he turned to fully face his two favorite companions. Several photographers paused their disassembly, even choosing to put the cameras back in place just in the rare case that they were going to see something amazing take place.

The Human paid no mind to the cameras or to those who were watching curiously and instead chose to approach the smiling Harpy with and equally excited smile.

"(Y/n), to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

"Just wanted to stop by and see you! Rook said you would have a moment after you photoshoot and I wanted to know if you wanted to come over to Ramshackle for a quick bite to eat before your next activity?"

"I would love to."

"Really?"

"Of course. Why would I refuse such an invitation?"

"Well, I was just worried you might be too busy since you always seem to have so much to do..."

The almost shy behavior of the Human warmed Vil's chest as he felt his tail once again stirring to display itself for the sweet Human he adored. Perhaps, with the better lighting and the relaxed atmosphere, his tail would have a greater impact on them than it had in the past when he fist chose to display for them. As they rambled off about how busy Vil always seemed to be, he caught their hand, quieting them quickly.

"(Y/n), do you know what it means when a Peacock Harpy displays their tail for someone?"

"Rook said it means that the Harpy is interested that person and wants to be their mate."

Vil smiled at this, his tail and crest feathers rising up to a full display, the light catching the many colors as his wings extended out to either side of his body. Each feather moved and seemed to create the illusion of dancing as the Harpy circled the Human, parading his feathers for them to behold in his own dazzling display of affection. The Human seemed surprised by this sudden show of affection, but they also seemed to take it in stride as they caught the dancing Harpy in a tight hold, surprising him slightly.

"So, does this mean what I think it means?"

"What do you think it means?"

Instead of answering the Harpy's question, the Human pulled him into a quick kiss, locking their lips with his own. He almost broke the kiss to yell at the nosy photographers as he heard the many sounds of cameras clicking, capturing the moment on film. Rook was actually the one to begin admonishing the photographers for Vil as the Harpy broke the kiss, resting his forehead against that of the sweet Human he adored.

"It means I love you, (Y/n). Judging from your response, you love me too."

"How could I not? You're amazing and absolutely beautiful, Vil."

~~~~~~~~

Idia Shroud:

"Idi-nii."

Another win down, another win to go. Idia was on a hot streak and there was no way he was going to slow down for anyone. If he kept this up, he would be able to get drops for all the gear he needed to complete his set. He might even be able to get gear for his secondary character that ran DPS.

"Idi-nii!"

"What?"

The insistent voice of his little sibling drew the Shinigami out of his trance, moving one headphone off of his ear so he could turn to look at his exasperated little brother. He was about to complain at Ortho that he was busy and interrupting his streak would throw off his game when he noticed the littler Shinigami was not alone. Standing next to the technomantic Shinigami was a familiar Human that made Idia's heart skip a beat and made him turn away from the game, his streak quickly forgotten.

"Did you forget (Y/n) was coming over to play games with us?"

"... Maybe?"

"Idi-nii..."

Otho was clearly frustrated with the behavior of his older brother, but the Human was not put off by the forgetful behavior of the older Shinigami. Instead, they chuckled softly in response to his nervous statement and it made him smile. Usually he thought others were laughing at him whenever someone chuckled around him, but he couldn't help feeling that the Human was actually fond of him.

Most avoided the awkward older Shinigami who kept to himself, but the Human had made it their mission to actually befriend him however possible. Even as he smiled back at them, he could feel the way his hair changed from the consistent blue to a gentle magenta. Unfortunately, the Human seemed to notice this as well.

"Hey, Hellkitty."

"Hello to you too, Gloomurai. You ready to play some games with me and Ortho?"

"Yeah, just let me log off of this and I can get a game started up for us."

"Okay. Quick question, though."

"What's up?"

"Why does your hair change color whenever you see me?"

This actually threw Idia off as he began to stutter, stumbling over his words to try and come up with a reasonable lie to throw off his true feelings for the Human. He didn't think he was ready to confess that to them, or to anyone really, and he was worried that there was no way the Human would possibly love such a weirdo back. He had to think of something quickly.

"Well, you see- you see it means- I- I mean it- it is because-"

"It's because Idi-nii loves you, (Y/n)."

Idia could practically feel himself blue-screen as Ortho easily said the words he struggled to find and he felt the sting of betrayal deep in his chest. How could Ortho, his trusted brother, do this to him? To voice his feelings just like that for the Human to deny or even be repulsed by? He didn't know if he would be able to forgive-

"Oh, is that all? Well, good thing I love him too, or this would be really awkward."

"... Huh?"

"I said, 'good thing I love him too', you silly Shinigami."

"L-LOVE?? You love me?? Really? But why? I'm just a freak with flaming hair who-"

Idia was cut off mid rambling by the sudden feeling of lips against his own and his entire brain seemed to shut down completely. His hair burned a deep magenta as he rest his hands over their shoulders and pulled them deeper into his affection, his long limbs wrapping around them to hold them close. He could faintly register the bright glow of his hair as the magenta color reflected off of their skin, giving them that same bright glow.

"I love you, Gloomurai. I don't care if you think you are weird, I adore you in all of you awkward glory."

"W-Weeheehehe~!"

~~~~~~~~

Malleus Draconia:

The evening was a lovely one, not too cold and not too balmy either. Somewhere in between with a warm breeze that seemed to soothe the turbulent soul and a soft caress of an affectionate lover. It was the prefect kind of evening to allow the pair to walk mostly undisturbed across the campus.

As a Nocturnal Dragon Fae, Malleus was more at peace in the evening than he was during the daytime, allowing him to let down in guard under the cover of night. Even as the Human walked by his side, he knew they were happy and protected in the cover of darkness. All felt right with the world, so long as he had his Human by his side.

Overhead, the stars glimmered and shined like the very cosmos were rejoicing in the peaceful moment shared between two souls. It didn't matter how the shadows clawed for attention, not a moment would be spared spent focusing on anything other than the Human that held to Dragon's arm. He would ensure they were protected and nothing else truly seemed to matter to him as the two walked together.

The Dragon had a reason to spend this auspicious evening by the side of his Beloved and he was ready to lay his heart out for them, if only for a few more seconds of their treasured time. Of all the gifts that they had given him- from his quirky nickname to the simple moment spent enjoying one another's company- he had yet to give them something that could compare to the joy they had given him. He planned to correct that oversight with his own heart offered up to them to keep.

"It's a beautiful evening."

They commented off handedly, keeping their voice low to not disturb the peace that had settled over the usually lively campus they wandered. It was certainly lovely, but nowhere near as breathtaking as the Human he held in his embrace.

"Yes. Very lovely."

"Did you want to just have a nice walk, or was there something else that you wanted to talk about tonight? You even told Lilia he couldn't come, so I'm guessing you have something in mind?"

Ever the observant one, (Y/n) always seemed to know when there were thoughts plaguing the Dragon even before others did. It was that observative behavior and quick understanding of him that Malleus valued above all others. So few could read the Dragon half as well as his beloved Human could, and he knew he could never let the crown jewel of his Hoard escape his embrace.

He needed to let them know how he felt about them.

As he paused by their side, they were quick to turn their curious gaze to him, looking up with their head cocked to one side in an ever endearing way that made his heart swell in his chest. To think, the precious short lived creature had managed to entangle the heart of the lonesome Dragon with such adeptness he didn't even realize how hard he fell until his own emotions seemed to slap him across the face.

"(Y/n), I've been meaning to talk to you about something. Something that is very important to me."

"What is it, Tsuno?"

He paused and relished the feeling of his beloved so close to his chest and so warm against his own naturally cold body. They seemed to fit perfectly in his hold and he couldn't stop himself from pulling them closer, chuckling as they gasped ever so softly.

"I find myself thinking of you whenever we are apart. Longing to hold you, to taste your lips, to embrace your body and soul with my own. I have never felt such a rush from anyone other than you, and it kills me to think of anyone getting to hold you the way I long to."

"Malleus..."

"(Y/n), Dragons love deeply and fiercely. I don't want to consume you in the flames of my passion if that is not what you want of me. I love you (Y/n) (L/n). I would burn the world to ash if you only asked it of me and I would embrace you in the ruins of the burning land around us for the mere pittance of your smile. If you don't want this... if you don't want me-"

The Dragon was cut off as his head was pulled down into a passionate kiss, feeling his chest swell with adoration for the gentle and fragile soul he held in his arms. There as no more need for words to be said, the action speaking far louder than any sweet nothing that could be whispered into the night. Such adoration made his heart ache in affection as he embraced the love of his life, knowing they willingly embraced him in return.

He could live thousands of years with no one other than (Y/n) as his company, and they would be the happiest years of his life. All he needed was his love by his side and the gentle embrace of their affection to fill his heart.

He would never let them go.

[strangesmallbard]

i do think it’s interesting that severance fans often default to discussing the outties and innies as two separate people—like yes, functionally, they are right now. lumon does its best in-universe to separate outties and innies. for example: banning contact between outties and their innies’ coworkers, banning contact between outties and innies themselves. they create that distance and the fantastic acting also helps create that distance. it’s fundamentally important to the show that we acknowledge that difference.

and like. yes it’s a philosophy question: at what point do outties and innies become truly different people? is a person stored in their memories, their upbringing, or their instincts? etc. as we’ve seen so far, this separation creates some of the most fucked up consent issues you’ve ever seen. but also, and this is so easy to forget, there is also no separation. mark scout is mark s, helena eagan is helly r, and visa-versa. one is just missing necessary history and context to be the other person, but the vestiges remain. essentially: i don’t think they can truly become two different people and therein lies some tension.

for example: mark s has mark scout’s frankly impressive ability to repress any and all grief-related emotions. (i was wondering yesterday, actually, whether an innie who experiences some of the same life events as their outtie will eventually morph into them. like a manual reintegration.) another example someone else brought up: helly r has helena eagan’s entitlement and strong belief in her own personhood.

the outtie vs innie conception is particularly interesting when it comes to how fans discuss helly r/helena eagan. many people love helly and hate helena and it has me going “huh!” because, like. that could be the same gal! in different fonts. they both want to believe they’re completely different and want everyone else to believe that too. but we’ve been shown differently.

i’ve also seen some cognitive dissonance in discussing helly r/helena’s actions, which is also very interesting. there’s a very human urge to paint one as evil, the other good. but that’s never how it goes. yeah irving says “helly was never cruel” but he’s biased! (which is a good thing! i love when characters are biased). helly tried to kill helena last season (i know i just said they’re not separate people, but helly doesn’t agree with me). in season 2, helena stole her body and assaulted mark s. again, absolutely insane consent issues inherent in the severance process. (maybe it doesn’t come down to the good/evil dichotomy at all but rather: power. who has the power and when are they justified to wield or fight it)

anyway! no tl;dr. just food for thought. please try to enjoy each sentence equally etc

[gangstalkerbarbie]

You're not a god, technically. A god is one of them big ones, the extraterrestrials, see?

You, like everything else in the world, were born here; your beginning is not before time and outside the world. Not a god. You're a daimon. It's a common misconception.

Still, in the space of that misconception there's honest work.

You're not sure the council upstairs (if it's even a council anymore) pays much attention to most of mortalkind, really, otherwise there wouldn't have to be witches to do work scholars are jealous of, but doesn't someone have to?

Sometimes the ones that do enough of it become angels. Sometimes the ones that do something better than anyone else become... well, just what is Silence, actually? Is that still what he goes by? When he was Death All-Devouring he had a few more teeth, you think.

Anyway: when official channels fatfinger a prayer, you have to know, and it's just sort of the case, ethically speaking, that you're to do something about it. Even if only to keep up the illusion that the world-machine works. That's kind of a duty incumbent on all of you immortals, these days. Just until the big boss ... well, the big boss cannot be said to ever be doing or thinking or going to do or think anything, so you're not sure where that was going.

And that's why you're here at this wedding — because a hundred, two hundred years ago they realised the big kahuna might not be listening, deep down, somewhere, and so now you are the wight of the marriage bed. Some say the angel. They're not sure. You're not sure either; you have perhaps a dot more free will than angels tend to, but you find yourself doing a lot of angelic kinda work.

Is the Immanence here, like She's supposed to be? Doctrinally (you are a daimon, you don't really care about doctrine outside the mechanics of your own existence) She doesn't fuck with mixed marriages, but She also conveniently is present every time two men talk about lofty matters, yes, even if they're talking objectively heinous anti-sense about women and children and beasts. So, you know. It's kind of touch and go here. Is mixed marriage more bad than womanhatred? Very important scholars debate the issue even now. Six thousand years of debate have yielded the answer 'yeah idk probably'. You cannot perceive the Immanence. You wouldn't know.

You do, however, know the future, and in the next thousand years, thankfully, they will perfect the shaping arts and learn to make men into women, and maybe they'll all be women then, what the hell. It's an optimistic thought. The other immortals kind of snicker at you and tell you to go look forward at what they do with chymics, self-made new forms of life, in that future, and what they themselves go mad with pain and grief and loneliness and do, for which reason you kind of don't want to.

You might go and listen in on some of those last debates instead, except, again: wedding.

To your profound disappointment, this wedding expects to make you co-in-laws, sort of, with a small unfriendly god, one of the daimons that really believes in it, waves their essence around. This is... about to get really annoying.

You actually don't even dislike Sowulo. Everything you know about them boils down to the fact that they've been experimenting with themself after their mortal followers degendered them — that's the trouble with the overreliant ones, the essence moulds to the understanding of the souls they shepherd and then you end up in no end of annoying circumstances. This would be why personally you've never investigated what gender you're supposed to be. Less for your people to contradict that way. Maybe you predate gender, how's that for a thought exercise? (You don't; you were born in the middle of the Age of Chitin; they don't have to know you're something smaller and duller wearing an old god's pelt.)

And, well, it's just... they're a little weird? OK. They're a lottle weird. You are pretty sure they are, like, super mega ultra weird. The situation is like this: their people, their little guys, they used to be these peaceful cattle nomads. Then the Aeon of Sails and the Great Industrialisation, and the dire circumstances that led them into the ghettos, and so on — and somewhere in that transition, the travelling spirit of the warmth of the sun that was their constant companion came into conflict with the new State doctrine that the stars are unfeeling miasmas of incandescent plasma. (Is that doctrine? That's how you understand most things. You're not sure of the semantics.)

So now: degendered, deprived of influence, a cold light, not a warm one. Invoked, at best, at afterbirth burials, confirmations, weddings, cremations, premarital haircuttings, housewarmings, slaughters, and for the end of winter when it dies under their hand. They're annoying and dangerous and haggard and raw-voiced as a hungry buzzard because they are starving, because they have lost themself, because they don't remember what they used to be and they don't know what they want to be now.

Sometimes a ship launches from the harbour of this city, and you are there because you have one of your people to look after, and they look out at you from shore, forlorn, jealous, abandoned, so hungry. So hungry. Mourning something they half remember, something they are convinced you have. That's why they incite their sophonts to kill yours, maybe. You wouldn't know. You've never asked. You're busy doing your job, keeping those sophonts safe.

They envy you your vitality. They wish they knew what they were. They think you know what you are, and they want you to get off your inconceivably tall high horse.

You're not on a high horse. You just are, and you try to make sure your sophonts can just be, too. But Sowulo doesn't know that.

Sowulo knows that their people are small and broken and scattered, and that each wedding with any other people weakens them — weakens the people and weakens their god.

Sowulo hates you.

And, like, you don't really play favourites, all mortals are the same to you deep down, but you understand that there is a Teensy Weensy little problem, perhaps, with the favourite son of their most warlike clan's Great Chanter running away from home to elope with a witch-midwife from beyond the Pale. Not because she's yours, but that doesn't make it better. Her own huntedness and fear and old pain doesn't do anything for the situation either. Sowulo doesn't understand yet that suffering is a universal condition of settled life.

Your marriage priest, a jolly little roundish woman in veils against the interference of spirits with her work, pounds her cowhide drum and begins her chant. Sowulo's shakes his solar rattle, completely unaware that his god is seething in the rafters of the fane. Are you going to have to save his life, then, before the sun is up? This is going to be a very long, unnecessarily laborious, and probably also very interesting night.

You are a god whose most devout follower is marrying your rival God’s follower. Normally that wouldn’t be a problem except you both are asked to bless the union, and for that both of you must attend.

[randomasfuk]

Hi, I just saw your post criticizing people calling Dick “a whore,” and I agree with it all; expect “Tim and Bruce are the family whores.” I just wanted to point out that I think it’s equally wrong to call Tim a whore because of the amount of times that boy has been sexually assaulted and/or harassed. If you criticize people calling Dick a whore, I personally think it’s in equal bad taste to call Tim one.

I see where you’re coming from but Tim Drake is a serial monogamist with a hole dam roster of love interests. He has had two love interests at the same time, balancing relationships both as Red Robin and as Tim Drake.

After abit of digging to refresh my memory, here’s an expanded, detailed breakdown of his confirmed romantic relationships, including what runs they were from and whether they were fully developed or just implied crushes/flings.

Tim Drake’s Canonical & Consensual Relationships (Confirmed Roster)

1. Stephanie Brown (Spoiler/Batgirl) – The OTP

• First Appearance: Detective Comics #647 (1992)

• Main Relationship: Robin (1993) #16–#183, Batgirl (2009), Red Robin (2009)

• Status: Longest and most iconic love interest

• Notes: This was Tim’s longest relationship, though very on-off-again. They had multiple breakups, but DC consistently revisited them. Strong emotional connection, and one of the few love interests who truly understood Tim.

2. Ariana Dzerchenko – His First Girlfriend

• First Appearance: Robin (1993) #1

• Main Relationship: Robin (1993) #1–#74

• Status: Official girlfriend before Stephanie

• Notes: she was his first real gf and the relationship was actually pretty stable, they broke up bc she thought he was cheating

3. Zoanne Wilkins – High School Girlfriend

• First Appearance: Robin (1993) #148

• Main Relationship: Robin (1993) #148–#183

• Status: Civilian love interest

• Notes: very similar to his relationship with Ariana

4. Tam Fox – Love Interest in Red Robin Era

• First Appearance: Batman: The Dark Knight #1 (2011)

• Main Relationship: Red Robin (2009) #1–#26

• Status: Strong romantic subplot

• Notes: Daughter of Lucius Fox, and Tim’s love interest while he was leading Wayne Enterprises. Very close to becoming serious, but Tim’s mission got in the way.

5. Cassie Sandsmark (Wonder Girl) – Grief-Driven Romance

• First Appearance: Wonder Woman (1996) #105

• Main Relationship: Teen Titans (2003) #92–#100

• Status: Brief, grief-fueled relationship

• Notes:

Happened after Superboy died and it was more about coping with loss than real romance. Ended quickly once they realized it was unhealthy.

6. Bernard Dowd – Current Canon Boyfriend

• First Appearance: Robin (2004) #121

• Main Relationship: Batman: Urban Legends (2021)

• Status: Tim’s first confirmed same-sex relationship

• Notes:

Bernard originally appeared in the early 2000s but was reintroduced in 2021. Their relationship officially confirmed Tim as bisexual.

Lesser-Known or Minor Romantic Connections

These relationships weren’t as major but still counted as actual romantic interests.

7. Darla Aquista – Briefly Dated, Became a Villain

• First Appearance: Robin (2004) #121

• Status: Brief romance, turned into a villain

• Notes:

She was introduced as a civilian love interest. Later became the magic-powered villain Vittoria under Penguin’s gang.

8. Dana (Last Name Unknown) – Minor Love Interest

• First Appearance: Robin (1993) (exact issue unclear)

• Status: Barely developed romance

• Notes:

She existed, but not much is known about her. Possible high school crush that went nowhere.

9. Zoe (Last Name Unknown) – Another Minor Love Interest

• First Appearance: Robin (1993) (late 90s issues)

• Status: Minor high school romance

• Notes:

Similar to Dana—barely developed and mostly forgotten.

10. Charlotte Gage-Radcliffe (Mademoiselle Marie II) – Short-Lived Romance

• First Appearance: Batgirl (2006) #53

• Status: Brief romantic interest

• Notes:

• hardly a relationship, during his Red Robin era. Nothing serious came of it.

Thares also Xin Liu but I believe that was retconned although I wouldn’t have used it anyway bc she’s a manipulative bitch wtf was that.

Also if I’m wrong about anything please let me know as much as I do read comics I don’t actually own many which makes it hard to go over what happened, I had to kinda research to refresh my memory so if I’ve got anything wrong let me know.

SIDE NOTE: really needs to stop using sexual assault in storylines it’s so unnecessary especially when it never gets mentioned again.

[urprettylildoe]

𝓢𝓽𝓾𝓹𝓲𝓭 𝓬𝓾𝓹𝓲𝓭 (𝓥𝓪𝓵𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓮 𝓭𝓪𝔂 𝓼𝓹𝓮𝓬𝓲𝓪𝓵)

yandere anti-cupid × (fem) cupid reader.

Synopsis: you bring couples together and he breaks them apart. A rivalry ensues between the two of you. And while Vexian seems hellbent on destroying everything you've built, we often forget how close hate is to love...or perhaps obsession is a better term.

Contains: yandere thoughts/behaviour, mentions of side character death, blood.

Note: HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY ANGELSSSS ♡ Sorry this came out after valentine's day! I was so busy but here it is. (Wrote this to make myself feel less single) but anyway enjoy!

♡

Strange dreams had been plaguing your mind. And not just any dreams, ones of him.

Vexian, an anti-cupid — whose favourite indulgence was picking apart people's relationships, watching them crumble under the pressure. A heart made of stone, and a head even harder.

Then there's you, a cupid. The embodiment of everything pure and happy, the very person who fosters love. Too sweet, too gullible.

A match made in heaven, right?

You would dream of lips caressing your skin like silk, whispers of sweet promises fanning over your ear. It felt all too real each time you shot up, covered in cold sweat.

But, this couldn't possibly be true. How could it when he glared at you like you were dirt on his shoe?

A being born from evil could not be capable of such tenderness.

♡

A lazy yet smug smile adorned Vexian's lips as he watched the couple quarel. It was music to his ears, humans unknowingly dancing to his tune like puppeteers.

He doesn't remember the last time there wasn't a hole gaping through his black soul. It was a bottomless pit of hunger. It was only satiated when he fed on heartbreak and grief, and even then it would crave more.

Whether he liked it or not, he had grown addicted to his guilty (or not so guilty) pleasure of having power.

One obstacle stood in the way of getting what he wanted: You. A pretty winged thing who scurried around with a cute arrow and bow, desperate to give everyone a taste of romance.

Too selfless for your own good.

"You're wasting your time, y'know." Vexian drawled, towering over you. The air surrounding the two of you was distorted and sizzling; it pulled you in yet made you uneasy.

"How am I wasting my time exactly?" Your brows furrowed, a pretty pout on your lips that was adorably frustrating.

He could crush you under his foot like a bug, but he doesn't want to. The game is much more fun that way. The silver cracks that ran through his otherwise perfect skin practically glowed. "It's funny, trying to fix things that were bound to break eventually." A finger reached out to twirl a strand of your bouncy hair around it, his thumb rubbing it.

He continued, "Emotions make you weak. They cloud your judgement and do nothing but disrupt the so-called peace you strive for."

Holding your chin high, you attempted a glare that could only do so much to rival the crazed intensity in his. "It makes people happy, though."

"That could only do so much in the long run," his eyes crinkled. "And I can't wait to watch you realise that."

As quickly as he appeared, he vanished.

Back then, you didn't realise that there was something lurking in his eyes while he looked at you.

Perhaps it came from his desire to prove you wrong.

Vexian did everything he could to watch everything you built fall so graciously to the ground. He meddled into all of your relationship, hoping for a disheartened expression. The only thing on your face was a small smile as you continued aiming your arrows at each and every person.

Something fluttered inside of him. You were so fascinating, even more than the night sky he liked to stare at.

He recalled those evenings where he'd come to your place to discourage you, only to find himself in a trance..

The moonlight streamed through the window, bathing you in an ethereal glow. Your lashes cast shadows on your cheekbones as you slept.

And Vexian couldn't bring himself to hurt you.

Other evenings he'd watch over you while you were out match-making, just to quell the storm inside of him.

Perhaps it grew more wild as he left things on your windowsill.

The anti-cupid finally found something new he could study. How could your spells counter his own? What did you have that he didn't?

A new kind of beast awoke inside him. If love was so powerful, then shouldn't he get to experience it firsthand? That sounded only fair.

Yet, he didn't want any kind of love.

No, he wanted yours.

♡

Disappointment washed over you, replacing any initial excitement. Why didn't your arrows work? Why did it turn love into something unrecognisable, monstrous?

All the couples you worked so hard on matching ended up hurting each other. Jealousy would rear its ugly head into their lives, and so would obsession right after.

No, no, you could not fail. This was your one purpose, your true reason for living. If you couldn't fulfill your job, what would you do? Where would you go? What if-

"Hey, hey, relax."

That velvety, haunting voice sounded so deceptively sweet, prompting you to look up into his eyes. For a moment, you were almost fooled...until his hand on your shoulder snapped you out of it.

You wrenched out of his grasp, jabbing a finger into his solid chest. "What did you do?"

He hummed, "I'm not sure what you're talking about, baby." The pure amusement in his voice practically gave it away.

"You did something to my arrows, I-I don't know what it is but you're ruining love." Your voice sounded strained with distress. It could only make him croon. You always gave and gave and gave to those pests, but never got anything in return. He plans to fix that.

Tweaking your arrows was rather easy. A little dark magic here and there then it all fell into place, like a perfect puzzle piece.

Feigning sadness, he sighed dramatically. "And here I thought you'd like what I prepared for you. I just altered it a teeny bit to perfection. After all, shouldn't the feeling of it consume you?"

You flail your arms in wild gestures, "no, it shouldn't."

"Oh?" Then why did he feel that way when he looked at you?

Before he could utter another remark, his gaze drifted over to where you had been staring before he arrived.

A measly man. Was he another one of your projects? Yes, that must be it. It's probably-

You turned to follow his gaze and you stared at the human...

...with hearts in your eyes.

His body froze up. The world around him spinned and the air thickened around him, crackling. He couldn't speak, couldn't think of anything else except you.

How dare you love another? Go against your morals? Lovers didn't betray each other, you knew that.

Fists clenching, he recoiled from your form but you didn't seem to notice, too entranced by the pathetic man. The gears started to turn in his head, jaw clenched.

No one should have your love. You should've noticed him, whose love burned brighter than the stars. But no matter, he will have your love. Vexian will be back soon enough.

After all, Valentine's day was approaching, right?

♡

14th of February.

Romance, love letters, sappy confessions, dates, all of it was on this fateful day.

You had a skip in your step, wings fluttering behind you as felt giddy about your favourite holiday. You got ready — adding a pretty gloss to your lips and a clip to your curls. You wore a short, white sundress for the occasion.

Things were going to be a bit different this year.

It was time you finally rewarded yourself on Valentine's — maybe a cupid could have a chance at love too?

Fluttering around your house, you looked for your bow and arrows. Could have sworn you put them on the vanity-!

They sat proudly, carefully, on the small kitchen table. There wasn't any time to ponder as you reached for them.

A large hand enclosed around yours.

Your breath hitched as the other arm wrapped around your other side, trapping you against the table.

Warm breath fanned over the nape of your neck, "Happy Valentine's day, my love." Vexian pressed a kiss to your temple, making your chest tighten. What is he doing?

The lack of response on your behalf only encouraged him to continue, "thought I'd bring you a gift. What kind of lover would I be if I didn't, hm?" You had half the mind to call him out, if it weren't for the supposed present being thrusted into your hands.

A white rose, dripping in crimson.

Your ears rang as the thorns prickled your skin, sending golden blood running down your hands. "What- I-I-"

Vexian hushed, smoothing down your hair, "Shh, baby. I got rid of that pest for us, aren't you happy?" The flower dropped to the ground. Pest, did he mean-

No, no, no. Not him. Please. Your quiet sobs wouldn't come close to the turmoil twisting your very organs around.

"Don't cry, Y/N." He cooed lovingly, cupping your chubby cheeks and squishing them together as tears ran down in streaks. This was a nightmare. A terrible one.

You managed to sputter, sobbing, "what have you done?"

His chuckle sounded more like a rumble in his chest, dark wings mocking your tiny ones that he's come to love so much. "What have I done? I made sure no one stood between us anymore." That only made you spiral deeper and deeper, drowning in your tears.

Sigh. "Baby, I understand your hesitation. You fear what you don't understand, right? I do not love like you do. I love like the moon loves the tides—pulling, controlling, devouring.” a soft smile has the audacity to grace his lips, "but the way I see it, you wouldn't need to worry about my loyalty. The devotion I have is eternal, unlike that human."

"He didn't do anything to you!" You bawled hysterically, both because of your demise and the man's. Your shaky hands reached up to grab his, trying to pull them off of you.

"Oh, but he did. He took your attention away, and that alone is unacceptable." He peered into your frightened eyes at such a close proximity, "but enough about him, I want to show my real gift."

Raising his hand, Vexian snapped his fingers. And the world around you spun before collapsing.

♡

You could finally look around, but this was not your home.

The luxuries surrounding you were hard to ignore — walls made out of marble stones and intricate carvings, jewels and expensive trinkets littered the room and a heavenly view was cast outside. This location was too peaceful, too relaxing, too perfect.

Realisation dawned on you that this was no ordinary place, but a palace. You almost forgot about Vexian if it wasn't for his warm hands placing themselves on your waist.

"Do you like it here?"

A sniffle escaped you as your gaze flickered up to him, "W-where are we?"

He spread his arms wide open, a cheek grin making its way onto his features. "Home."

"H-home?!" You repeated a moment after.

"Home," he confirmed. "I made this world for you, for us. Time is a bit different here, but other than that, everything you desire shall be at your feet."

Your body flinches at the impact of his words. This guy expected you to go running into his arms, didn't he?

You whisper softly, "No, I won't stay. What about my life back there?"

"You're still thinking about those pesky humans? Your only purpose right now is to accept my love," he stepped forward, pushing you down on the golden, silk sheets of the king-sized behind, hair spreading out beneath you like a halo.

Struggling under his grasp, you yelled. "And what makes you think I'll actually stay here?" You expected anger, but it never came. His gentleness was a contradiction to his existence, so much that you couldn't believe this was the same man who hated Valentine's day with a burning passion.

Silver eyes gleamed under his tousled locks of black, "you will, one way or another." Slowly, he extracted a blade, shushing your protesting cries with a peck on the nose.

You screamed and thrashed, trying to get him off. "You monster, let go of me!" Hands clawed at his chest, trying to free yourself. It was all in naught though as he pinned you down.

He cut his own palm then did the same to you. Then, he interwined your hands together — silver and gold mixing — before leaning down to kiss you. You turn your head to the side, only for him to grab the back of it and force you to look him in the eye.

"I've waited so, so long to do this. M'not wasting my chances, my love." His lips suddenly smashed down on yours, the kiss speaking volumes.

You tried to break free, but the spell was strong. Your resistance grew weaker and more futile. It was a silence to your pleas. You could no longer flee.

He pulls away, pupils dilated. Finally, you whisper softly, succumbing to your fate, "you don't understand love at all."

Pressing his forehead against yours, he smiled adoringly.

"Then teach me. After all, we have all eternity."

♡

Yours truly,

@urprettylildoe

[binomech]

I keep thinking about the simplicity and kindness with which Severance treats grief, and death. That you can express your pain in a million different ways but ultimately, what it always amounts to is: This person was alive, and I loved them, and now they aren't, and I still love them. Love is the only thing pulling us forward, even as it forces us to look back.

There's a few quotes from the show under the cut. There's not much else to this post, just like there isn't much else to someone you love dying. It hurts, and you miss them. It will always hurt a little bit, and that's okay. That's what remembering does.

Ms. Casey about Mark Scout:

Your outie can parallel park in less than 20 seconds. Your outie can roller-skate with grace. Your outie pays all of his gas and electric bills within three business days. Your outie listens to music while shaving, but not while showering. Your outie prefers two scoops of ice cream in a serving, but they must be the same flavor. Your outie once captured a butterfly.

Mark Scout about Gemma:

My wife was extraordinary. My wife was allergic to nutmeg. And when she sneezed, she always sneezed twice. My wife liked other people's dogs. My wife thought cardigans looked ridiculous. I loved all these things about her... Equally.

Dylan and Irving about Burt:

Irving: The last time I was happy was when all I knew was MDR. When I was good at my job and not trying to be happy. I'm going to leave, Dylan. Dylan: It is not leaving. So stop fucking calling it that. I know, you want... I know... Just fucking try. Irving: You're a good friend, Dylan. (...) I wanted you to know before I left. Dylan: Okay. Well, you're not. You... No. Stop it. Stop it. Listen to me. Look, I'm sorry that outie Burt has a hot husband or whatever. But he is not the point. Innie Burt is the guy you fell for, and I know because I encouraged the courtship. Irving: I... I want it to be over. I want the pain to be over. If he's gone and I'm gone... Dylan: Stop saying that. Irving: ...then somehow, we'll be together. Dylan: He wouldn't want that. Irving: How do you know? Dylan: Because I don't want that. Because I would be sad, and I would be less productive, and I'm really good at what I do here, whatever it is. And you're part of what makes me good at it. So please, do not go. Irving: Dylan... I'm your favorite perk. Dylan: Don't bring them into this. All I'm saying is, if Burt was still here, he would be telling you to stick around and figure out what the fuck this is.

Felicia and Irving about Burt:

Irving: I can't... My God, he was... he was fearless! Felicia: I worked with Burt for six years. And I only ever saw him scared of one thing: He spent two hours on his hair the first time he went to visit you. Irving: Really? I should... I should show you something. I'd draw [one portrait of him] every day I couldn't see him. My numbers went down, but I didn't even care.

Dylan about Irving:

It's hard to pinpoint a favorite Irving story. For the least fun guy in the world, he was really fun. He put the "dick" in contradiction. One time, he was pissed at me for watering down the toner, so he put toner in my water cup. He stopped me before I drank it, though. He just wanted to make a point, not harm me physically. But I did accidentally take a sip of it later, 'cause I forgot he said that. He asked me for help with something near the end, and I didn't listen. And in his final moments, he would have been totally justified in telling me to suck my own fuck. But he didn't. He was awesome, and I miss him.

[legendaryandroid]

My favorite ship currently is Sazantos/Scarecrow from CotC. More broadly it's Sazantos/Chosen One.

I really like the idea of Sazantos- proud, just, and capable Sazantos- who was raised with the idea that he's special, that he's important, coming face to face with the person he was meant to be, who accomplished what he did not, and having to reckon with the fact that he is perhaps not the things he thought he was. I think it'd cause him to have a lot of complicated feelings for the Chosen One (not all of them positive) and I want him to fall in love at the same time with this person who is so determinedly trying to do good.

For Scarecrow specifically, the two of them are protectors and the idea of them being able to step back from that role and let someone else take care of them for a change makes me happy. Also neither of them are wordsy people so they can enjoy each other's company in silence.

Also also (cotc spoilers for BoA4). I think it'd be interesting for them to explore their similar but opposite grief together. Sazantos having lost his mother, and Scarecrow having lost his child (and wife). They could reassure each that their lost loved ones would not hold their failures against them from that perspective.

IDK I just want them to be soft with each other in a way they don't really let themselves be with other people.

I miss octopath yapping with people so uh yknow what! We’re gonna play a game!!

Explain in the notes what y’all’s favorite ships are and why you like them!!!

Only rules are

1) do not explain why everyone should think your ship is canon, as that is not the point of this post 2) do not put any other ships down bc that is also not the point of this post 3) ALL games are included (yes including cotc) 4) ANY SHIPS ARE ALLOWED!!! GO NUTS!!!!

[zolo-san]

Some thoughts on Law and his image of himself

Law clearly has a lot of conflict around being seen as "good" or a "good guy" I think he want to be a good person, and he actually is, but he doesn't see himself that way, so he has a hard time accepting when people try to suggest that he is good And I think that there are several reasons for that

Law and Survivors Guilt

Law clearly holds a lot of survivors guilt throughout his life and I think it takes a big toll on him When he was younger, not only did he out live his parents and his whole town, but he "failed" to save his little sister as well We see him go out of his way to try to save her specifically, but in the end, he's still not there when she needed him the most The loss of his family also lead him down a path of which he chose to be angry and violent (ooooo we love the stages of grief lol) and take out his feelings of guilt and resentment on others despite being raised by a family of caretakers As a doctor, his father put everything he had into trying to help the people in their town and I think that Law would have looked up to him and wanted to be just like him, but after everything that happened something really broke in him I can't help but think he would feel bad and like he failed again after he moved past the angry violent reaction - just like I think he later felt quite a bit of guilt over stabbing Corazon after the fact Corazon tried everything to save Law and gave everything to him and I think that that too would add to Law's feeling of guilt, especially because it took him so long to realize that he had been too guarded and untrusting to see that Corazon was genuinely trying to help him Once he was able to accept and recognize that, however, Corazon ended up dying shortly after Obviously, Law has a lot of guilt, specifically survivors guilt, surrounding Cora's death Corazon not only risked his life for Law to live, but Law was unable to use his fruit to save him because he didn't know how, then when Law did try to get Corazon help (against Cora's wishes) he managed to "get help" from the wrong person and put Corazon in more danger, leading to his death

Ironically this is not dissimilar to the way his sister died Law had told her to hide while he get help and not only did he not get help, but when he returned, his sister had been killed

I also think that Corazon's confession to Law about being in the navy as he was about to die adds to Law's guilt because he already knew that to be true and I think it hurt him to realize that someone who cared so deeply for him and was literally dying for him still felt bad and was worried he's disappointed him

There's also something to be said about Corazon dying with a smile and the fact that Luffy is also someone who always has a smile on his face, especially when it comes to helping others I think this very much molds the image that Law has of who a "good person" is

Law lived because he knew it was what Corazon wanted for him It was all Law could do for him (I do wonder if there's also some guilt he feels about dedicating the life Cora gave to him to revenge)

Law and Selfishness

I think Law truly sees himself as selfish for many reasons, one being that he was so driven by revenge, and I think he has a tendency to overlook the good that he does because of this

I think he even sees him saving Luffy at Marineford as a selfish act

I think that seeing the efforts that Luffy was going through to save his brother made Law feel that he had failed his sister all over again He would feel that he never tried that hard And I think that it's partly for that reason that he felt compelled to save Luffy

I can't help but feel that Law, without realizing it, was trying to absolve himself of his own "sin" of not saving his sister by saving Luffy I also think the idea of Luffy, after all his efforts failing to save Ace, really broke Law's heart and he couldn't stand the idea of Luffy having to go through something like he did, especially after all the effort Luffy put in

But because of Law's view of himself and his actions as being selfish, I think that Jinbe thanking him for helping Luffy was already too much for him He didn't see his act as selfless or "kind" he saw it as him acting in self interest and I think that's why he tries to present it as such He claims that he essentially saved Luffy because he thought it would be a shame and a waist to let someone with Luffy's potential die then and there, but I think there's so much more to it and I think a lot of it has to do with Law viewing Luffy as an actual good person and something that he's not Law leaves before Luffy can thank him because he doesn't think he deserves thanks

The next we hear of what Law did during the two years that Luffy was training, we hear about his collecting pirates' hearts and becoming a warlord He does this all as part of a plan to exact revenge on Doflamingo and as part of this plan, he leaves his crew behind with no explanation and fully expecting to never see them again (tho he doesn't tell them this) This brings up an interesting fact that even though Law claims he never intended to fight Doflamingo, he also never expected to live through it

I think that Law feels incredibly guilty about leaving his crew behind because he does really care about his crew and I think that lying to them knowing full well he's going on a suicide mission hurts him a lot But I think that despite his choice being fueled by a want to protect his crew, he would feel that it's a selfish choice When he's on Punk Hazard, Law is fully in the throws of pretending to be this other person that he isn't at heart He's trying to be that cold, selfish person he sees himself as, but I don't think he can really do it So I think for this all these reasons, Luffy's mater-of-fact declaration that he is "a good guy" would make Law incredibly uncomfortable I think he sees Luffy as the type of caring, honest, and straight forward person he wishes he could be When he thinks of a good person, he thinks of someone like Luffy - someone like Corazon - who doesn't hesitate to help others at his own risk and would die for his crew and the people he cares about

Luffy obviously shares a lot of traits with Corazon and I don't think that's lost on Law So having someone like that imply that Law is the same as him is something Law can't handle

In addition to this, I think that Luffy's willingness to fight for Law at every turn and his inherent trust in him only adds to Law's feeling of inadequacy next to Luffy And I think that his survivors guilt and the fact that he feels that he's nowhere near as good a person as Luffy are all contributing factors as to why he decides that if Luffy dies fighting for him then he has to die to

I genuinely think that the idea of surviving someone so good like Luffy (and Corazon) again is something that Law cannot handle and cannot allow to happen This is also why I can't help but think that we will see a point where Law attempts to kill himself via his fruit to save Luffy I think Law would rather he die knowing that he insured Luffy's survival than to outlive someone so kind and good Though I think there would be a lot of guilt and conflict here as well I think that whenever we get to this point, it will be abundantly clear to Law that choosing to kill himself for Luffy would also be a selfish act that Luffy would never forgive him for How could he curse Luffy to eternal life knowing that Law died to give it to him?

But regardless of Law's own self image, we see repeated examples of him actually being a good and kind person He has a strong sense of right and wrong and cannot abide injustice, especially the mistreatment of innocent, good people And even if he didn't go about things the best way when he was a kid, this feeling of right and wrong and a need for justice (not in terms of the law but more in terms of karmic, moral justice) was something that was instilled in him at a young age He was taught by his family to care for others in need and to put others before himself And he tries desperately to do so when his town is being erraticated He reaches out to Luffy at Saboady when he sees, in Luffy, the same moral values and the same demand for moral justice and fair treatment of others (something I think is very important to Law given the treatment he faces for his condition as a child) Law then saves Luffy out of compassion for him, whether he's willing to admit that out loud or not He goes out of his way to try to make sure his crew is safe when he goes on his suicide mission to take down Doflamingo and even tries to assure them that everything is fine to ease their concerns When in Dressrosa while he was obviously focused very much on Doflamingo, his plan also helped benefit so many other people in Dressrosa and the world who were suffering because of Doflamingo He also refuses, at every second, to leave Luffy's side and nearly kills himself several times in the process (not to mention taking a beaten and battered Luffy into his care for the second time at his own risk) When they get to Zou, he leaves to get to his crew fairly quickly because he want's to be sure their okay and he accepts their love and happiness at his return with no argument And when Luffy asks him about altering the plan so he can go get Sanji, Law's first thought is of the people of Zou

I think this is partly because he can't stand the injustice of what happened to them, but also because he knows that insuring their saftey is something very important to Bepo since it is his home country and his people (even if he didn't really grow up there)

The people of Zou thank Law for this and he immediately shrugs it off because he doesn't see himself as someone worth thanking (especailly not after he heard of all the good the strawhats did - how could he compare?) Despite it all tho, Law makes room for Luffy - he accommodates Luffy's request because he knows how important it is to him to get Sanji back And again, he does this all selflessly and at his own risk, tho he doesn't see it as such, Law changes his plan to help Luffy and he does so without really any hesitation

There are other examples of Law going out of his way to do good and be a good person despite the image he has of himself (I'm just currently only just finishing up Zou so I haven't gotten there yet, I just know things~)

But in short, Law clearly doesn't see himself as "good," tho he desperately want to be a good person, but regardless of how Law views himself, he is clearly "a good guy"

[tenderwatches]

summary: our disaster scientists... talk

e·gal·i·tar·i·an /ēˌɡaləˈterēən/ adjective relating to or believing in the principle that all people are equal and deserve equal rights and opportunities. "a fairer, more egalitarian society"

No one has ever called Viktor emotional—most people hardly pay attention to him at all, in fact. But one person has always seen him. One person with amber eyes so soft and soulful they stir in him some warm sensation deep in the bottom of his lungs. One person with whom he had never felt the need to don a protective veneer.

The memories come like a tidal wave—laughing to tears in the early hours with his partner in the exhilarating early days of Hextech, grasping uselessly for whatever had decimated their composure; letting his gaze linger over handsome cheekbones and a sleepy smile, never understanding what that fondness meant; warm hands squeezing his shoulders with unbridled excitement as he rattled off their equations.

If he thought his emotions coming up to the city were tumultuous, he has no words for the ones overwhelming him when Jayce had walked out of those doors. The other man’s gaze had locked onto his own, holding it as if it were a challenge. Then, it had slid away with something that looked inexplicably like disgrace.

When Heimerdinger met him a short while after, Viktor was distracted, still slightly numb. His head was light with surprise and a sudden rush of muddled memories. He remembers agreeing vaguely to review the work that Jayce has been doing, littering Heimerdinger with absent platitudes as they walked down the hall to his newly assigned Academy quarters. (These quarters are closer to the labs than the ones in his past ever were, and he suspects that the professor’s guilt may be bubbling to the surface.) There was no talk of his previous work, all that he’d been researching and theorising before being ousted from the Academy. It’s as if he had never done the work at all.

Now, he finds himself alone, leaning heavily on his crutch with his fingers frozen. It’s then that, like a sheet of snow finally giving way to its own weight, he feels everything he should have felt in that moment outside the council room. Anger flushes his skin whilst betrayal tears at his heart, leaving ugly gouges. It’s followed by a deep grief that nearly renders Viktor to his knees. He grasps the length of his crutch for support, managing only a few steps towards the bed before he succumbs to it. Hunched over and gasping, his stomach roils with embarrassment at his own weakness, this human sentimentality.

This is a man whom he’d bared his soul to in its raw and vulnerable state, when thoughts were nascent and still finding their legs. That man had turned around and confirmed every prejudice these topsiders had ever unjustly held against him.

Viktor’s fingers dig half-moons into the thin skin of his palms, and he lets the sting there draw his reeling emotions back in. I could have explained. He could have come to me. Fatigue begins to overtake his previous outrage, bringing it to a dull simmer in his chest, where it’s kept alive by the memory of Jayce’s face, mouth slightly open as if in mid-word at the sight of Viktor on the bench in front of him.

His ire gives way to a hollow feeling that sits at the break of his bronchial tubes, hard and knotted and carving him out. It becomes heat and heaviness, lodged there like it has found a home in him and claimed him. The desire to reach out pulses through him, aching with every heartbeat. He wants to touch hands, skin, lips—this softness melts down all the else that overcome him every time he catches those honeyed golden eyes with his own. He wants contact and absolution. It’s irrational; it’s bound to him as tightly as his own identity. It’s love.

In spite of everything Jayce Talis has done to him, Viktor still loves him.

—·—

Viktor stays in his quarters for the next nine hours.

There have been few days he’s known exhaustion like this, even with his illness and stays in Zaun accounted for. Physically moving from the Undercity to the Academy, making promises to Heimerdinger that he can scarcely recall, and seeing Jayce again are enough to make him finally crawl into bed and sleep for six of those hours. He sleeps the kind of dreamless and unsatisfying sleep that one wakes from questioning if any time has passed at all. It’s a twist of hunger that rouses him, but even tentatively considering food makes his stomach lurch dangerously into his throat. So, in an effort that rivals a team of miners outfitted with Atlas Gauntlets, he unpacks the steamer trunk, sets his things to right, and finally exits into the hallway and heads in the direction of the labs with a small stack of books tucked under his free arm.

The labs are still in the direction he remembers them, and though it seems slightly ridiculous to visit the labs at this hour, having an opportunity to take it all in without anyone else around will do him good. He’s always preferred moving around the Academy after dark anyways—less a chance of seeing others in its lengthy hallways.

At the very least, stopping by in the evening will certainly be better than trying to get his bearings in the midst of a lab in full operation, except—Jayce Talis is in the lab.

All the air vacates the room, and Viktor wonders if he imagines the sensation of his vision narrowing until Jayce is the only thing within its field. He’s sitting at one of the workstations with an air of discomfort that gives Viktor the impression that he might prefer to be anywhere else in the world. His hands, which Viktor knows to be rough with time in the forge, fidget with an overstuffed notebook in his lap. He curls the corner of a slip of paper tucked between its pages; the action is so juvenile, so vulnerable. Viktor remembers a simple sketch of his own face stashed between research notes and inner musings.

“Viktor,” Jayce starts, being the first to crack under the weight of the tense silence.

Viktor drops the books he brought onto the table with a crack that echoes off the bare walls. “I don’t appreciate being accosted in my lab,” he replies in clipped tones.

“I’m n—Viktor, I’m not accosting you,” the other man sighs, letting his eyes drop to the books Viktor has begun shelving with far more force than necessary. Each one thumps against the back of the bookshelf next to the lab table and elicits a flinch from Jayce. “I—I didn’t think—I mean, it’s been so long.” Viktor allows him to struggle, his usual eloquence and confident demeanour gone. “I—I’m glad to see you, is—is all. I’m glad you’re here.”

A laugh escapes him. It’s sour in his throat.

The simmering in his gut from earlier in the day resurfaces, a splash of acid. The agony of this moment crashes around him all at once—to be standing here, watching this scene play out, helpless to stop it. “You’re glad? You’re glad?” You aren’t afraid I’ll conduct some unethical experiment?”

Jayce’s face adopts a complicated expression, but he endures the slight as if expecting it. He neither shrinks away nor rallies against it—Viktor is fascinated and infuriated all at once. “You couldn’t let me have it, could you? This one thing.” Viktor’s hand clenches around his crutch. “I barely had a prototype.” The metal bracket digs into his palm, grounding him against the bitterness that roars to life in him at the thought—his research, his work towards an adapting, thinking Hexcore. All killed in its infancy.

His eyes are locked to Jayce’s, a challenge in his level gaze, daring Jayce to deny his accusation. Perhaps once they have it all out, it will be the last moment they ever have together at all. He hates that feeling—hates that he would rather they claw each other to pieces than spend more aching months in the numbness of separation.

“V, I’m—”

“Don’t.”

The sharpness of the word pierces the softness on Jayce’s face, the imploring expression beginning to shape his features into something that might beg for reason. It’s a gentle turn that might counsel them to show each other patience, forgive—but a darkness stirs in him—the selfish, wild urge to hurt, to wound. He wants to make Jayce regret saying it. He wants his indignation to be as righteous as it is deserved, because forgiveness feels too much like a consolation for being discarded like yesterday’s waste.

“We are not so familiar anymore,” he admonishes, watching Jayce’s gaze fall away. Jayce’s dark lashes brush the arches of his cheeks, and Viktor wants to press his lips there, consume him, so badly that he disgusts himself with the need for it. “Yes, we were partners once, but I don’t see how you would turn your partner in for ‘unethical conduct regarding human subjects.’” His recitation of the charges—baseless lies—against him is quiet, intense, and precise. Why shout Jayce into silence when Viktor will simply go back to missing the sound of his voice? His feelings for this man are a trap; they rob him of all sense and render him in reckless fits and starts.

“I didn’t—” Jayce begins again. His fingers twitch against the leather cover of the journal in his hands, and Viktor suppresses the shiver of need that crawls up his spine. Watching Jayce smother the urge to reach for him does something animal to him. Gods, he wants those hands—but it’s a sick, self-annihilating desire. He levels the other man a chilly stare and holds tight to the feeling of breathing poison for months, of waking cold and lonely and hopeless, far from not just the tender condescension of the Piltover society, but his work, his goals—all the things he’d abandoned his home for.

He suddenly wants Jayce to feel shame, to be ashamed in the same way Viktor felt, staring up at the crack of light in the sky through the gloom of the Zaun Gray, knowing how much less he is in the eyes of people above. To have a life that feels small and dirty and pathetic when staring down Piltover’s Man of Progress, how loving him, gods, loving him is such an agony.

“You might be glad I’m back, Jayce, but I was beginning to make my life in the Undercity mean something.”

It’s not exactly a lie, but he realises it is, nevertheless, dishonest. Representing the months of miserable decline as a personal triumph for him, no matter what he’d actually been able to accomplish, is feeble and thin. A wisp of rage at this misrepresentation, this palatable farce, rises up, and he grabs tight to it instead of facing the half-truth. “There are people out there who need help, people you happily ignore up here. But why should I be surprised? As gifted as you are in selling the dream of a better world, you’ve never had the courage to sacrifice for it.”

Jayce’s grip around his notebook is white. Had he brought that to show Viktor? Did he want to review his work like the old days? Viktor can’t imagine that Jayce is so stupid, but perhaps he’s that naive.

Momentum carries Viktor forward, accusations spilling forth because it’s so much easier to lean into this than to step back and face the way seeing Jayce makes him feel. “It is so like you to pretend as if we can hand-wave all that away. We can’t all operate with your lack of consequence, Jayce.” He hisses the other man’s name like a curse and sees that this, bizarrely, is the thing that makes Jayce flinch back. His words are quiet, intense. “You thought I would what, forget all of that?”

Words begin to get away from him now, tumbling, things he felt from before, vicious and snarling like they were when he first opened Heimerdinger’s letter all those months ago. His hand rises to the bridge of his nose, trying vainly to massage away a pressure that has begun to mount there as he continues. “You thought I would be grateful that Piltover deemed me harmless enough to come crawling back? I came back because I had to, not because I wanted this again. Heimerdinger has asked me—”

“If you would just let me explain—”

“Explain what?” The question is a bulwark, not meant to be answered. He sees frustration swell in Jayce. His jaw is tight, biting back something ugly to lob at Viktor in return. He does so hate to be spoken over, as if Viktor hasn’t spent their partnership being quick to silence himself at a single glance from this man. In a second as quick as one of those looks, the desire to fill the silence between them pulls Viktor into its undertow. Whatever careful and curated explanation Jayce has to justify his actions, whatever he had seen in Viktor that had cleaved his trust enough that he went to the committee rather than speaking to his partner—the thought is enough to turn Viktor pale. “Nothing is ever your fault, is it, Jayce Talis?”

“You never talked to me!” Jayce insists, his voice rising.

“Why do I have to be the one to talk to you?” Viktor lets himself feel it then, the most uncharitable of assumptions he can make—that their partnership has always catered to Jayce’s whims. He is Piltover’s Golden Boy, the astonishing young scientist who came from ‘nothing’ and rose to the fanfare of the crowd to the admirable ‘creator of the Hexgates.’ It’s the self-effacing lie he tells to get the paternalistic elite to shake his hand and pat his shoulder whilst conveniently ignoring Viktor’s presence in the background. It’s a wholly unfair thought from him; Viktor has always been close enough to him to know the shape of the Golden Boy better than most. Viktor is wholly familiar with the softness in Jayce’s heart, the gentle, naive hope that lights his face when they talk of the true nature of progress. It is hard to hate that man—too easy to forgive him. It’s much easier to hate the mirage he constructs now; that’s all he can bear to gaze upon. “What would we talk about, anyway? How you don’t trust me?”

Jayce responds with an incredulous huff of derisive laughter. “Trust? Really, Viktor—you’re the one who disappeared—” He’s clutching his notebook between them like a shield before him now, and Viktor can’t help himself. He wants to grab it, wants to dive into the stupid, ridiculous, impossible dreams he knows are in there, to help them take shape, to feel himself again.

“Disappeared?” Viktor repeats, the word tearing itself from his throat. He strikes Jayce’s journal with furious energy, sending loose pages fluttering. “They told me I was ‘unwelcome to continue my research’ here.” His voice drops to a dangerous whisper. “That the ‘Academy does not condone such flagrant disregard of the Ethos.’ I didn’t disappear—I was banished.” He throws his spite into the journal now, sending it tumbling from Jayce’s hands. Neither move to retrieve it.

In the stillness, Jayce’s face begins to harden, like he’s finally in this fight. “Yes, to the Undercity—I’m aware. What did you expect me to do? Comb every street looking for you?”

A flare of humiliation bursts to life in the midst of Viktor’s outrage because there was a tiny, irrational part of him at his sickest, most desperate moments that had hoped for exactly that. It’s an admission worse than any other—that he’d let himself want to be tracked down and whisked back to their old life. “Oh yes, because gods forbid you get sump water on your shoes,” he sneers, pulling his anger around himself like a protective shroud that can keep the shame out. “I thought you cared enough about your partner to at least—”

“Of course I cared!” This time, it’s Jayce jumping in. He’s moved a pace closer—an unsafe proximity. Viktor catches the slight tremor in Jayce’s hands. A dark lock of hair has fallen across his brow, drawing Viktor’s gaze to the tiny white scar there. These imperfections undo him. Viktor used to be better at deliberately failing to notice these details, but absence has made him weak. He isn’t accustomed to this closeness anymore. “You just—just vanished! You froze me out, Viktor, like you always do—you didn’t come to me—”

“Like how you came to me about your, what, concerns? Fears?” His words rush onwards, voice frantic. He’s running from the way he catalogues the minute features of the man in front of him—the way Jayce’s body tilts towards his, how his chest expands and contracts against the tight cut of his vest, like he’s a bit winded.

An unhinged part of Viktor’s brain urges press himself nearer, to feel each breath break against him like a wave. They’re both coming unspooled in a way that feels dangerous. His vision is hazy at the edges now. Viktor’s body trembles, and he hopes Jayce is too furious to see. “No, you went to the committee that held dominion over my very presence here. You never saw it, did you? The only thing keeping them from throwing me out of the city was that I was useful to you.”

“I have never—cared—where you’re from!” Jayce is shouting. He’s impassioned, the way he gets when he’s emotional, heart laid bare. The hand he runs through his dark hair destroys its polished style, and Viktor could strike him for that alone.

“Exactly. You never look at it. How could I expect you to care? That reality has always been far away for you—you’d never choose to look at it. You’ve never made one decision in your life without someone else holding your hand—me, Heimerdinger, Mel Medarda. So desperate for the approval of your betters. You’d sacrifice me on their altar because I was just someone you used for your success—”

“How dare you!” If he assumes the rebuke of Jayce’s character will drive him further away, he is wrong. Jayce dives into that blistering accusation, alight with his own kind of fire. “Who used who here?” A wild, emphatic gesture brings Jayce a step closer. He’s so near now Viktor can feel the heat coming off of him; he wants to be burnt by it. ”You let me dress up and walk around the parties of Piltover so the wolves out there might throw us their money. I called it our dream, and you couldn’t even stand up there with me. I never erased you, Viktor. You erased yourself.” Viktor bristles, his stance growing defiant—he refuses to let Jayce loom over him. In this moment, their breathing intermingles. Viktor notices that Jayce’s aftershave is still the same. His breath hitches.

“It never mattered—they don’t want me here, Jayce. I thought you did.” He snaps his jaw shut to bite back a sound close to a sob or a shout of rage.

When Jayce speaks next, his words are a whisper in the scant inches between them. “You have no idea how hard these last two years—” he begins, and Viktor can’t do this. He can’t hear this plea of sympathy from Jayce—not with just this brittle distance to keep him from crumbling.

”I have no idea?” He hisses out, tearing away to retreat, to get back some space that will clear his head. Instead, his vision goes narrow, his body and brain seeming to move apart from one another. Viktor can’t breathe. The room tilts. His crutch clatters to the ground as his balance fails, making him stumble. Practice and reflex usually compensate for his body in these situations, but the world falls away from him too fast. He gives into the momentum to save himself a shattered ankle; if there is one thing he learnt young, it’s how to fall safely.

But the floor never meets him. Instead: warmth. Strong arms. Jayce’s face above his, eyes wide with concern. Their bodies pressed together like the worst of his lurid fantasies. Viktor’s reaction galls him—he wants to let it all go, then, whatever wrath he has, whatever cruel things he still needs to say. But Jayce seems to have seized the sense that has left him. The other man steadies him and steps back to let Viktor breathe, watching him owlishly, tracking Viktor’s trembling fingers as he wipes the sweat from his own brow and leans against the table in silent mortification.

When Jayce speaks, it’s not with scorn or pleas to explain himself. It’s broken, awful. The kind of shame Viktor wanted him to feel earlier is evident in his tone, and Viktor finds no satisfaction in it. “You look… sick, V. I’m sorry. We shouldn’t be doing this.”

Viktor’s rage drops away in a cold flash. He has never had the patience for pity, but from Jayce, it’s unbearable. He balls his hands into tight fists. “You can leave.”

“Viktor, I’m sorry—” Jayce tries, but Viktor has rooted his eyes firmly to the ground. He simply doesn’t have it in him any longer to try and stare into the supernova of Jayce’s gaze with the lingering past threatening to blind him.

“Out.”

Jayce inhales deeply like he’s about to argue, but the words—breathless—disappear. Viktor notes the hang of his head as he turns and scoops up his journal and loose pages in his large hands, his actions harried and rough.

He stands there until Jayce’s footsteps are long gone past the door despite the sharp pain now radiating up his leg. He doesn’t realise he’s holding his breath until it escapes him when he sinks down into one of the workstation chairs. He closes his eyes. What a catastrophic failure.

Logic creeps into his addled mind. He should focus on his original purpose: surveying the lab, getting his bearings. He should neaten up, return to his quarters, maybe make a note of the day if only to remind himself to scorn Jayce rather than love him. He should eat—actually, he can’t recall the last time he did.

Viktor groans as realisation dawns upon him. Idiot, he berates himself silently, resigning to the punishment of painstakingly lowering his body from the chair to the floor, glad that no one is around to see his ridiculous state. He reaches for his crutch where it lies, halfway lost beneath the workstation table. The room’s spinning now makes sense. Stupid, careless—oh, what a mess. His self-reproach halts at the sight of papers covered in Jayce’s unmistakable scrawl, swift and erratic.

He pulls them closer, squinting at notes scattered amongst meandering sketches of hex crystals, points here and there emphasised with frenetic circles and short bursts of exclamation marks. Nostalgia twists in his chest, forcing him to settle long enough to page through the papers he’s gathered up. Of course he should have realised that Jayce would still be working on improvements to the miraculous little batteries that powered Hextech. It had been their dream, after all, to make Hextech into something that wasn’t barred to the masses by exorbitant prices, and this looks like it might be a step in that direction.

Viktor worries his thumbnail between his teeth as he reads, gears of his mind turning through the problem of stabilisation once again. It appears as though their old tried-and-true method of ‘crank it’ didn’t bear fruit this time, and Jayce has outlined a number of runic patterns to try instead. Viktor shuffles through the pages, searching for the formulae the patterns are based on, but turns up nothing—he’s missing the beginning, the foundation of the subsequent hypotheses. He glances at the vacant doorway. A tired groan escapes him. This—this intriguing problem that has so easily wormed its way into his psyche—is a problem for Tomorrow Viktor. Today Viktor is going to find food.

𓊈 first chapter | previous chapter | next chapter on AO3 𓊉

AN: This was Chapter 3, "Egalitarian" from our fic Lies We Tell Ourselves! we've been enjoying sharing with y'all on tumblr, thank you everyone who has commented and reblogged, it means a lot to us that you'd like to share our writing!! in continuation of posting a full chapter on tumblr the day before update day, here's one before tomorrow's special Valentine's day update, when we'll be posting chapter 16 on AO3 :)))

[megamuscle885-blog]

I picked Bakuda/String Theory, and I'm glad people are recognizing it for the fallout that it would be. Fallout is exactly what I would call their ship. I'll type out my thoughts on the others though; Night/Fog: Tragic though undercut by their nazi affiliations, their pantomime marriage is the only thing keeping them anywhere near sanity. Assuming they don't outright murder each-other over whatever caused the divorce, they both now have to figure out how they're going to function when they no longer have anything to tether themselves to. Likely to end up living weapons in separate nazi groups, or join the S9 when Jack blows through town. Casualties would be no more than usual for parahuman nazi scum. Fog might go on a directionless killing spree as he mutely works through what little feelings he has left. Night's monster form can't physically cry while she's alone and unobserved more than usual now. Though, thinking about it, both are true for the other. This doesn't really spark much of a comment in the parahuman community, other than the increased killings.

Defiant/Dragon: Also heartbreaking, because their main draw to each-other was a relationship built on respect and vulnerability. If it were Armsmaster, he might've said something wildly misogynistic or something that made her distrust him with her AI secret, and they would've cut ties personally but maybe maintained a professional veneer. A Defiant/Dragon split means they exposed their mutual vulnerabilities and still weren't able to make it work. No casualties. The antithesis of a messy divorce, they would split from each-other and cry very privately, but stay together for the kid (Weaver). The kind of divorce where the love has died and trust/respect has left. People didn't really know about their relationship that much.

Foil/Parian: Maybe Parian realizes the power dynamic is a little skewed, with Foil abandoning everything else to be with her. Maybe the age gap comes up in a messy way. Whatever the divorce reason, the fallout isn't significant beyond them both leaving the Undersiders. They weren't really part of the team except to be for each-other. Tattletale sees it coming a mile off, but for whatever reason, she doesn't do anything to stop it. I haven't read Ward yet, so I'm not sure on the intricacies of their relationship. March might swoop in to take advantage of Foil's grief. In which case the casualties aren't even their own fault. Impact would be limited to their henchmen and associated Undersiders fans/henchmen.

Imp/Regent: Regent becomes a little more careless with his thralls. He found someone who made him feel a little more human and now she's gone. Except Imp is never actually gone. She begins to haunt him, a constant voyeur and a gaping hole where someone should be. I'm actually struggling for a divorce reason here though. His death stayed with her for years after, despite her anger at his self sacrifice. I don't think either of them would go out of their way to lash out and cause casualties. If they want each-other dead, they're both uniquely equipped to counter each-other. Brian would comfort Aisha once he sees her genuinely upset. I don't think there would even be any Heartbroken with the Undersiders if it wasn't for Imp/Regent.

Assault/Battery: We've seen what kind of man he turns into when Battery is out of Assault's life. Compared to the above, their divorce is actually a long time coming. His perceived guilt over causing her to Trigger, any lingering blame over the loss of her father, his sexual harassment, her career being reduced to ex-villain babysitting for her corrupt bosses. Again, this divorce has been a long time coming. Assault becomes reckless, vindictive, punishing. Desperate to prove himself to her, or to prove her wrong, he goes overboard on criminals and villains and might even end up kicked out of the protectorate and jailed himself. She rectifies a massive smear on her career and moves on from Brockton Bay, though jaded and untrusting of a system that rewards usefulness and punishes the principled. Merits little more than a PHO thread from their respective fans.

Trickster/Echidna: This divorce is hard to see because his whole deal is that he's ride or die for her even though their relationship isn't ride or die. It's very much a problem that he's so willing to do anything for her. Canonically they made an S-Class event even worse, blew up the PRT's whole global mission, led to the underwhelming performance at Behemoth which also caused the largest casualties faced in an Endbringer battle to date (not sure on the civilian casualties but New Delhi is rather populated). It's not their divorce that is messy, it's their fucking 'marriage'. So, I think a divorce, so to speak, would probably involve Noelle being cured and Trickster no longer having an excuse to do horrible things for her/to keep the Travellers together. The casualties in that event are probably limited to the Travellers, and even then, maybe just their interpersonal relationships. They can never be together again. Trickster has been called a reverse Skitter by a few essayists here, and I think nothing shows that more than how Skitter's relationships are forged in fire, but Trickster's break apart in the crucible and he holds the slag together with his bare hands.

Bitch/Skitter: Oh. Don't leave her Skitter. Please don't go. She's your ever faithful dog. She'll wait for you. She'll build a shrine for everything and everyone she's lost, and keep a beehive there for you. She's always been trying to get the world to leave her alone, but she would be happy if she was alone with you.

We already have Canon. We know why she had to go. We know the casualties. Billions died. The end of the world.

Accord/Blasto: I can't decide if their divorce or their relationship is messier. Opposites definitely do not attract as often as they are depicted in fiction, as fun as it is to pair them up. Accord is practically the opposite of Blasto in every way. I also can't decide if their breakup is as messy as people have tagged. Either Blasto sees it coming or he doesn't. Accord, once slighted and once he decides the relationship cannot continue, will have Blasto's still beating heart in his hand and his severed head mounted on the wall. Mess is not Accord's thing, after all. A clean execution will be just the thing. If Blasto sees it coming, or if he's the one to break it off (which is a lot more likely and funnier) then he's got approximately one hour to release the Morrigan and get the fuck out of the eastern seaboard.

Miss Militia/Piggot: How does the marriage even kick off here? Piggot is unlikely to date a co-worker, a subordinate or a parahuman in increasing degrees of unlikeliness and Miss Militia doesn't seem to have much going on for her outside of being a living weapon for the Protectorate. Decidedly unmessy divorce though. Piggot may be forced to resign, Miss Militia might transfer out. Neither of them are likely to cause collateral damage, and neither of them show a lack of restraint with their emotions. Sparks a little inter-office gossip, but largely from the fact that nobody knew they were dating in the first place. I don't think I've ever read a Miss Militia/Piggot ship, so I am utterly unimaginative with this one. I'll accept recommendations.

Bakuda/String Theory: Yeah. Why is anyone else on this list? We know who's going to win. It's them. Lets say that they meet in the Birdcage, that Bakuda gets put in String's wing rather than the Fairy Queen's. Lung is stopped by a coalition of Tinkers once they reason out what he's there for, and his little display of power strategy has to be rethought once the entire prison makes it clear that nobody fucks with the people who keep the TVs working. So they begin a relationship, miss Bakuda and the String Theory. The marriage and the divorce are practically the same thing. Threatening to kill each-other at the end of every conversation. They describe how they'd do it, of course. Bakuda would trap her in a single moment of time, like a bug in amber. String Theory would squash her like a bug, like a high orbital kinetic hammer striking the most arrogant, Bostonian accented nail to ever exist. You have the two most volatile lesbian Tinkers to have ever existed, both of them academics largely disrespected and ignored to the breaking point, and both have had their careers of ruling others through fear. They're even both ticking time bombs in a way, Bakuda's literal examples and String Theory's timed weapon firing. The hate sex will threaten the structural stability of the Birdcage. The makeup sex will also threaten the structural stability of the Birdcage. They would make each-other worse by combining their strengths and the fallout would lead to the destruction of an entire earth of their own once they're released from the Birdcage together. I'm actually wondering a little if Wildbow intended for Bakuda to be a narrative copy of String Theory because of how similar they are to each-other. The leaders of the respective wings (excluding String Theory) meet to discuss contingencies if they actually manage to kill each-other. Lab Rat just can't get any peace and quiet anymore, now that there's two of them. He's the third wheel in their relationship and wishes he wasn't there to hear them complain about each-other/plan to kill each-other.

Glory Girl/Gallant: Oh, so this time it's for real? Maybe they finally hit the last straw here. Maybe Amy's whole deal comes out in a messy way, and they blame each-other for their neglect. Jealous supergirl trashes rich boy's new car by kicking it across the parking lot. They made a C-tier movie about this concept I think, starring Uma Thurman and Luke Wilson. Yawn. I think it's just going to be limited to Arcadia's gossip mill about Victoria and Dean, and if he's going to be grabbed by his ankles and slammed into the side of a building like a hamster.

Brandish/Flashbang: Hilariously, I accidentally typed Brandish/Manpower while going through the list before I realized my mistake. I don't think we need to guess the reason they divorce. Isn't she a divorce lawyer too? This one is the most stereotypical divorce on the list, and they don't even split up beyond sleeping in separate beds. The 'stay together for the kids (and team)' kind of divorce that just makes his depressive states worse and her walls come up higher. Tragically, Victoria thinks it's her fault. The casualties are New Wave as a whole and potentially whatever happens once Flashbang detonates in Brandish's face. If the secret gets out, things get worse. Maybe things get better for Amy once the pretense of a nuclear family ruptures and she's able to get out from under Carol and gain some breathing room. Victoria tries to hold everyone together.

I need to do another dumb poll.

I had fun with those.

Um...

How about...

It's 420am I should probably just sleep...

Now I would like to note:

This isn't which ship you like the most. This is which would have the messiest divorce. The sort the whole cape community is talking about.

Everyone's going "did you hear what happened down in ___"

[jo-harrington]

Corroded Coffin Fest Valentine's Day Pop-Up: It's Complicated

Summary: Jeff, Gareth, and Dave all confront their feelings on the 30th anniversary of Eddie's death.

Word Count: 2189

Rating: M

Warnings/Themes: Grief, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Time Skip, Older!Corroded Coffin, Canonically Dead Eddie, Mention/Implication of Kas!Eddie, Post-Season 5 World/Vecna Defeated

Notes: Thanks to @corrodedcoffinfest for this wonderful pop-up. Oh I've been contemplating what to write for this for a while.

Dedicating this to my beloved @dr-aculaaa who had an idea as we were chatting about art. Has had me noodling for weeks at this point, and although this is not necessarily in line with that idea, it's a spin on it.

This can be read on it's own...but I would like to think that it can also be read as a bit of an off-shoot of my fic, As Above, So Below. There are no real plot spoilers for AASB, I just think it could happen.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

Hawkins, Indiana - March 2016

They didn't want to do it, but they knew that they had to.

They needed the closure, and 30 years was a long time to wait for it.

Because you don't stop thinking about the week your life changed forever.

The reunion almost didn't happen; they hadn't talked or seen one another in person in so long. It was the miracle, known as Facebook, that got them talking regularly again. Sending videos back and forth, commenting on each others throwback Thursday photos.

High school, then college, then jobs and families and vacations. Lives lived separate, when in another universe they might've stayed on the same trajectory together.

"Remember when we thought we were gonna hit it big?" Dave laughed sardonically after they'd greeted each other with handshakes and hugs and tears. They'd laughed and pointed out this beer gut and that thinning hairline. "Now I help people plan for retirement."

"Didn't think you were smart enough for that, Davey," Gareth chuckled, causing the older man to grab for him to try and put him in a headlock, just like he did when they were younger.

It was a beautiful day. Sun and fluffy cumulus clouds, unseasonably warm for March but none of them could complain about it.

"Leave it to us to not see each other in decades and we start off the conversation about the weather."

"You can take the boys out of the midwest but you can't take the midwest out of the boys."

They'd settled into lawn chairs, courtesy of Gareth, who hauled them all the way back to Indiana in his soccer-dad-minivan.

"Soccer, huh?" Jeff questioned mirthfully.

"Laugh it up," Gareth snorted. "I also have a kid that's an absolute menace. Couldn't be caught dead playing sportsball."

"Takes after Uncle Eddie, then, huh?"

They all went silent at that.

Because there were only three lawn chairs.

Three lawn chairs and a headstone.

They sat in front of it as though it was a television set, but there was only one thing on display.

Edward J. Munson Beloved Son, Nephew, and Friend.

The stone was chipped, weathered, covered in moss and other debris. There were also remnants of red paint clinging to the edges of the inscription.

People had gotten bored of defacing the grave a long time ago; no one cared about Hawkins anymore. No one cared about Eddie. The rest of the world had moved past the alleged murders and the earthquakes and all of the mysteries that had plagued the small town all that time ago.

Except the three of them.

That's why they were here.

"Do your kids...call him Uncle Eddie?" Gareth asked tentatively.

Jeff wasn't sure how to respond. How his old friends would react if he told them the truth.

"It's complicated."

There were a few beats of silence, before he spoke again.

"They do." Then he dove into an explanation. "They found a box of stuff at my mom's house a while back. Polaroids we'd taken at the trailer, at StarCourt, on Halloween. Copies of our fliers. Even my old Hellfire shirt. So I told them about Uncle Eddie, who taught me how not to be absolutely shit at guitar."

Gareth hummed and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Come on," Dave lightly hit his arm with the back of his hand. "Don't act like you've never thought about him for the last 30 years."

"I've really tried not to."

"Then what are we doing here, Gare?" Jeff scoffed. "Why did I drive 10 hours to come and sit in front of his grave if you're gonna act like he wasn't our friend."

Gareth worried his bottom lip for a pensive minute, trying to keep his tears at bay.

"I was really angry for the longest time," he finally admitted. "My parents made us leave with that initial wave of evacuees...after the first quake. We only took what could fit in both of their cars. We left my drum kit behind. And I didn't...I didn't even know he was..." His breath hitched as he was unable to say the word; 30-year-old emotions kept it stuck in his throat. "...for a whole week."

He pulled it together, letting the necessity of stereotypical, stoic masculinity that he had to adapt over the years take over and lock away the 17-year old he used to be again. The one that had been allowed to be stupid and upset with his friends.

"Once I heard, I started to blame myself. Because if I hadn't told Jason Carver where he could've found Eddie...Eddie could've gotten out of Hawkins and he'd still be alive. And I know...I know...who could've guessed that Victor Creel's copycat killer would've been on the loose. Or that there'd be an earthquake. But he'd been running around...hiding because those assholes were looking for him."

On and on, he spouted off his theory about what that fateful week had looked like, the through line between the murders. How if Patrick McKinney hadn't been part of the group looking for Eddie, Eddie wouldn't have been anywhere near when Patrick was killed. And if that was the case, he wouldn't have died in the quake either.

Of course, Jeff and Dave still asked questions, trying to get some sense of logic out of everything that Gareth said, but he snapped at them.

"It's like Jeff said. It's complicated. I've had enough time to convince myself I'm wrong, and I still don't. That's why I don't talk about it; it's easier not to. I don't know what else to tell you."

A dog barked in the distance, a breeze blew through, and there was a flapping of wings.

"At least you believed that he was innocent," Dave piped up. "My mom and dad...god, they believed all of that insane devil worship stuff. You guys left Hawkins right away. We stayed...for almost a whole year before they decided enough was enough. They made me get rid of all my DnD books, all of my tapes. Anything that could be tied back to Eddie. I didn't even...I couldn't even say hi to Wayne if we saw him at Bradley's."

He gestured a few feet away, to another headstone with Wayne's epitaph carved into it. It hadn't been a shock to see that the old man had died. But only a year and a half after Eddie? That had been a surprising sting that they'd all felt.

"You don't know how bad it got," Dave concluded solemnly. "We might have made it out right before the second quake hit, but they never let up. Eddie Munson's name was not to be mentioned again in our house. So be lucky that you had the choice of whether or not to think about him. Because I certainly couldn't."

There was a somber tone in the graveyard for a moment as they all reflected on their years spent apart.

Because, though the subject mainly rested on Eddie...there was also the unspoken accusation that they'd all also conscientiously needed to give each other up too.

30 years was a long time to grieve over a dead friend. But had they ever grieved the loss of one another?

It had been easy to reconnect, as though they'd never been apart. They'd been excited, eager to chat online. None of them had hesitated when the possibility of this pilgrimage arose, to see each other. Now, though? It was clear to see how far the trajectories of their lives had gone from one another.

Always the one to resolve conflicts between them, Jeff suggested that they move on to another topic of conversation: lunch.

Dave ran to get the cooler from the back of his truck. It was packed with sandwiches and beers and all manner of snacks.

All Eddie's favorites.

They set an old bandana onto the ground and piled it high with a ham and cheese sandwich and raspberry zingers and all sorts of little bites that they'd left behind in their youths once their metabolisms caught up to them.

"I don't think I've had a Mountain Dew in years," Dave stated after the most refreshing, crisp first sip of the bright green soda.

"Remember when you used to be able to burp the alphabet," Jeff chuckled.

"Remember when you used to have the most toxic dorito farts?" Gareth laughed at him. "Eddie almost kicked you out of the van that one time because you just ripped ass on the coldest day of the year and his windows were iced shut."

"Remember when he kicked you out of the van for..."

On and on they went then, reminiscing. Back to old times together, rather than lamenting over times apart. The topic, invariably, strayed back to Eddie.

"Did you guys ever..." Jeff trailed off, then shook his head. "Nevermind."

"What is it?" Dave asked.

"Nah, it's stupid."

"Come on, Davey and I almost fucking cried, full snot and all, in front of you. Don't get shy now," Gareth insisted.

Jeff sighed and settled into his lawn chair as he contemplated speaking his mind.

It was silly, foolish. The first time the thought had crossed his mind, he'd been young and stupid, and he'd missed his best friend. He'd even had a dream, once, and he'd woken up crying. After that, he'd decided that he needed to move on.

But here they were now, and there was no better time than to bring it up.

"Have you guys ever wondered...if he didn't actually die?" Jeff finally asked.

The other two men's heads snapped towards him and they gave him looks that definitely made him feel like he was insane.

So, he elaborated, "I mean, you've heard of witness protection and what not. This place was swimming with the feds. They never caught the copycat killer, right? Or so we know? What if Eddie was the next victim on the list? Or he saw who the real killer was? And so they hid him away."

Jeff tapped his fingers against the sides of his soda can nervously.

"What if he did exactly what all of us did? He left Hawkins and he never looked back," he concluded.

Dave and Gareth let out sighs of relief.

"Well, we know he never became a heavy metal star if that was the case," Gareth offered. "Could you imagine if he had? Lucky bastard, I would've had to kill him myself."

"Where do you guys think some alternate identity would've taken him?" Dave wondered. "Someplace cool, do you think?"

"They probably shipped him off to Alaska or something," Jeff scoffed.

"Oh he would've hated that," Dave laughed. "Do you remember when he'd need to go out for a cigarette in the winter? Almost lit his mittens on fire?"

Jeff got out of his lawn chair and hopped around like Eddie had on the porch of the trailer, trying to keep warm because he'd never bundled up properly.

"He'd hate to live someplace warm just as much," Gareth pointed out. "Remember how insufferable he'd be in the summer?"

"Wayne would tell him to get a hair cut so he wouldn't overheat?"

They all did silly impressions of him this time, laughing all the while.

They all fell back into their seats with a sigh.

"I...It's stupid," Jeff muttered. "I wouldn't give up my life...my family for anything. But there are just some days where I wish that he would've gotten to grow up with us too. He was my best friend, and I loved him so much. And I know you guys did too. I...he...he didn't deserve this." He gestured to the headstone. "So I hope that...that my silly thought is really what happened."

The other two muttered their agreements, and they knocked cans together in a salute to the missing piece of their puzzle.

There was a beat of silence before Dave piped up again.

"You know, that's not as crazy as what I thought you meant," he chuckled.

Jeff eyed him suspiciously. "What do you mean?"

Dave lifted his soda to his lips. "Nah, it's...I thought you were gonna ask if we thought he'd actually made a deal with the devil or something."

"See, this is what we get for hanging out together after a thousand years, I was thinking the same thing," Gareth agreed. "That Jeff was about to say that he was some kind of vampire or demon."

"Oh shit, or a necromancer. Actually that could've been cool!"

"Only Eddie could've thought about a vampiric, demonic necromancer," Jeff laughed along with them. "His own homespun version of Kas the Bloody Handed."

They all complained about the last campaign they'd played with Hellfire Club, Eddie's Cult of Vecna, and then agreed that they'd plan a night where they'd play some kind of RPG-type game over Skype, in his honor.

They stayed in the graveyard until the sky turned shades of pinks and yellows, and then they parted ways with more hugs and tears and promises not to wait another 30 years before they got together again. Then they drove off into the sunset, the perfect end to their perfect day.

A day that Eddie had blessed them with, as he looked upon them and wished that he could join them too...but...that, too, was complicated.

[moonchildreads]

small town

Chapter 27 - Kids in America

IN THIS CHAPTER: Independence Day, fun fair shenanigans, and Chrissy gives everyone a fright [5.3k]

WARNINGS: explicit eating disorders, parental abuse and unhealthy food related behaviours (specifically mentioned but not described: binging, purging and starving oneself) [if you've seen st4, you know what this is about], friends trying to help a friend with said eating disorder but they're not therapists so keep in mind that everyone is just trying their best, brief discussions of grief/mourning and PTSD

A/N: happy late valentine's day, pookies! hope you enjoy your present <3 someone asked me to be added to the taglist and i can't find who it was, let me know if it was you! (if it wasn't you and you still wanna be added, also let me know lol)

masterlist - prev - next | playlist

Bright lights, the music gets faster Look, boy, don’t check your watch, not another glance

Friday, July 4th - 1986

Dottie’s first Independence Day in the sleepy little town of Hawkins, Indiana was a very interesting experience. As someone who had never had a backyard until very recently, she was delighted to see that the holiday provided her neighbors with a chance to throw garden parties for their extended families, their heads popping up over the fence to say hello to her and her Dad who had willingly chained himself to the little grill he had splurged on when they first moved into their new house.

The decadent smell of meat and veggies sizzling on the grill, the sounds of children laughing and running around playing with sparklers, glasses of lemonade and cans of beer being passed around to be shared with loved ones -  it was, all in all, the perfect picture of the so-called American Dream, and Dottie was enjoying the festivities thoroughly, only a tiny bit sour at the fact that her Dad would be leaving for Florida for almost two weeks the following Monday.

It wasn’t the fact that he was leaving what was upsetting her, more so that she couldn’t join him because she’d made a commitment to cover Donny’s (now postpartum) sister’s shifts until she left for college, and she tried to never make promises she couldn’t keep. Sticking by her own personal code of honor meant that James would be spending the first half of his trip in stuffy conference rooms and the second half resting by his parents’ pool while Dottie stayed back in Hawkins and served countless freshly baked pizzas to increasingly impatient customers.

The joys of adulthood, she thought grimly, before deciding it could always be worse. She could be Gareth, who was currently stuck bagging groceries while everyone else was enjoying their hard-earned day off.

“I think you may have overdone it, Dad,” Dottie said, noticing the amount of food sizzling on the grill.

“I didn’t want you to go hungry while I’m gone,” James joked.

“You say that like we both don’t know you’re gonna eat all the leftovers by Monday.”

“Are you calling me fat?” he said, inflating his belly and rubbing it dramatically; she fondly rolled her eyes at him. “Actually, I was just thinking - maybe we could invite the Munsons next year. I’m sure Wayne knows a thing or two about grilling, right?”

“Yeah, that- that’d be nice,” she said, feeling sheepish. “I’m sure they’d appreciate the invite.”

On Monday afternoon, Eddie had brought up an interesting point. They’d been cuddling on the pillow-filled seat under Dottie’s bedroom window watching the rain drip down the glass when he announced that their first monthiversary was due the following day. His theory, as he relayed it to her in a theatrical fashion that was so endearingly Eddie, was that since they’d confessed their feelings to one another after the party fiasco, the first time they’d said I love you to one another had been after midnight, and thus, on June 1st.

Dottie had initially been surprised he was so into the idea of celebrating their first month together and after a bit of prodding, she’d gotten the truth out of him: Eddie had never thought he’d be in any kind of relationship long enough to even reach a monthiversary. And so, after dropping their very suspicious friends off with the excuse of getting home before the oncoming storm hit them, the pair headed towards their spot at Lovers’ Lake where Dottie gifted Eddie a homemade mini cake - triple chocolate, much to his delight. They’d shared an ungodly amount of sugary kisses on the back of his van and, on the ride back home, Dottie decided that she’d tell her Dad about Eddie being her boyfriend once he returned from Florida.

There was no need to tell him earlier, she reasoned, just in case he wouldn’t let Eddie stay over anymore while he was out of the house. James wasn’t a horribly strict father but if she could save herself from any uncomfortable conversations involving her still very new sex life, she would take any chance she could get.

“You going to the fair tonight? Heard it’s gonna be packed,” James asked, jostling her out of her thoughts.

“Yeah, Donny’s picking me up later. I’m kinda iffy on it, though.”

“Yeah? Why?”

“Gareth said people complained that last year’s fun house was for babies so they got a spookier one this year and I’m not really into that.”

“It’s a fun house, not a haunted house. How bad can it be?”

“It’s circus themed.”

“And?”

“You know I hate the circus!” Dottie argued.

“You aren’t scared of the circus though, you just hate watching the animals,” he reasoned.

“Well, yeah,” she said, angrily. “I’ve seen Dumbo, I know what they do to them when people aren’t looking.”

James let out a snort and went back to his grilling, thinking of the little Dorothy who begged to watch the “flying elephant movie” only to then become the world’s biggest circus hater. Later that night, waving at her as she got into Donny’s car - and noticing she was wearing an old roomy red romper Margaret had worn during the early days of her pregnancy with the same child who was now donning the outfit -  he had never been more aware that his baby girl had fully blossomed into an independent young woman.

He knew that if it were up to him, she would never have to leave the nest. If he had his way, they’d continue with their comfortable daily routines until the end of time; she’d always come to him first for advice or a hug, and he’d always be the doting father whose entire world revolved around the life he had helped create. But James wasn’t stupid, and he also wasn’t mean enough to clip her wings for his own comfort’s sake.

They’d never spent more than a couple of days away from each other in Dottie’s entire life. Maybe this upcoming trip would be a blessing in disguise. Maybe they’d both learn something about themselves by the end of it. As Donny’s car pulled away from the driveway and Dottie leaned over her friend to wave goodbye through the rolled down window, a father could only hope that he had prepared his baby for whatever the future threw her way. And, if everything else failed, they both knew he would always be there with his arms open to catch her when she fell.

“Okay, where to next?”

“Can we sit down for a minute? I think I’m gonna throw up.”

“Oh my god, you’re such a baby!”

Eddie Munson’s stomach was fine. It was always fine, because he was 1) a teenager who loved shovelling junk food into his mouth like there was no tomorrow, and 2) he practically had no gag reflex as discovered one very enlightening night at The Hideout, but his friends didn’t need to know that. No, all his friends needed to know was that he felt sick and they could hop onto the next ride while he hung back with Dottie, who was already rubbing his back like a dutiful nurse ready to tend to her patient. Once they were gone, he figured he could reveal the truth to his girlfriend and they could sneak some kisses behind the darts booth. Easy peasy, like his Grandma used to say. Or not.

“We could go sit down near the stage,” Jeff suggested, his usual heart of gold shining through. “There’s supposed to be a show soon, maybe it’ll be good.”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” Donny said. “My mom went to get her nails done yesterday and overheard the Mayor’s wife say they’re doing a tribute for the people who died last year.”

“What happened last year?” Dottie asked, curiously.

“The mall fire I told you about,” Eddie said. “The one Dustin, Erica and Mike were in, that happened today last year.”

“Ah, yeah, I forgot about that,” she nodded, deep in thought before mumbling to herself. “Kinda get it now.”

“Get what now?”

“Mike,” she simply said, and Gareth motioned for her to explain further. “I talked to Nancy earlier this week, she mentioned Mike is being like… super weird lately. He was supposed to be in Cali by now but the only plane ticket they could get was for this weekend so he’s locked himself in the basement for days. Their mom is getting worried.”

“You think he’s having a hard time because of the mall fire?” Donny asked, crossing his arms on this chest.

“Maybe. Who knows what they saw in there? He could be thinking about that because it’s the anniversary.”

“That happens to soldiers sometimes, y’know? They relive things,” Jeff said. “My Dad told me he knew this guy who would start crying whenever his wife made popcorn. That the sound reminded him of guns going off.”

“Well, that isn’t a depressing thought at all,” Gareth said sarcastically, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Why do you think I’m such a pacifist?” Jeff said, grim smile on his face.

“Dustin’s coming back this weekend, right?” Eddie asked the group at large; Dottie nodded in response. “Maybe we should go hang out with him so he doesn’t turn into a hermit like Wheeler. We could play a one-shot or something.”

“I’m in,” Donny said. “I’ll give him a call when he gets back, see if he’s feeling up to it.”

“If we’re not gonna see the show, d’you guys wanna get on the Paratrooper?” Gareth asked.

“Why don’t you go check out the fun house while Dot and I go get some food?” Eddie said. “Still kinda want to sit down for a sec.”

“Meet us by the picnic tables after?” she proposed to the group.

With arrangements in place, the boys quickly got lost into the crowds as they hurried to get in line for the fun house. Eddie put his arm around Dottie and started guiding her towards the other end of the fair where the food stands had been placed this year, cozying up to her without a care in the world as to whether people saw them or not.

“You didn’t actually feel sick at all, did you?” Dottie asked with a mischievous smile on her face.

“Well…,” he grinned, knowing he had immediately been caught. “Would you be mad at me if I told you I lied ‘cause I wanted to make out with you?”

“Hmm, good question. I guess it depends.”

“On?”

“Are we still getting food or not?”

“Pfft,” he scoffed, wrapping both arms around her and squeezing tightly. “Of course we’re gonna get food. What kind of boyfriend do you think I am, huh?”

“Stop it, Ed!” she laughed, thrashing around and trying to escape.

“Accusing me of letting my girl go hungry like I’m some kind of asshole, you’re gonna pay for that,” he argued playfully while still dragging her towards the food carts.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” she begged. “I won’t do it again, I promise!”

“Okay, okay, I’ll let you go,” he said, finally getting into the queue leading to the hot dog stand. “But only if you pay your fine first, you fiend.”

“You’re so corny,” she said fondly before grabbing his face and pulling him into a kiss. “I’ll go find somewhere to sit before the guys get here. Can you get me-”

“Fries with ketchup on the side? You got it, princess,” he said knowingly, kissing her again before she disappeared behind the booth. “Don’t go too far!”

Dottie walked around the picnic area in search of an empty table but found them all to be overcrowded, as if everyone had chosen that exact moment to grab a bite before the show started. From the lawn where they’d set up the tables, you could see the stage they’d built just for the occasion and, off to the side, the Hawkins High School marching band, patiently waiting with their instruments in hand to start entertaining the growing crowd.

Absent-mindedly, she watched them get into position while wondering just how many people in the cozy small town she’d grown to love had spent the last year in mourning without her paying any mind to it. She thought of Mike, Dustin, and Erica, far too young to have witnessed tragedy. What had happened to them? What things were they still seeing behind their eyelids every time they went to sleep? Was that why Mike had been holed up in his basement all week instead of hanging out with them? Did the fireworks waiting to be set off behind the stage remind him of the gates of Hell opening up as the flames consumed the building he and his friends barely escaped from?

Dottie shivered at the image and quickly turned around as music started playing in the distance. She fully intended on going straight back to Eddie and finding a nice patch of grass to sit on and indulge in their shared food but the sight of someone standing in the darkness between two booths made her stop abruptly. Narrowing her eyes to see better, she realized she recognized that strawberry blonde hair swaying in the warm breeze and began walking towards the secluded area.

“Chrissy?” Dottie called, trying to catch her attention to no avail. “Chrissy, is that you?”

Weaving through groups of people heading towards the stage to catch the show, she approached her friend in a rush, happy to see her after almost a full month of zero contact yet concerned because of her strange behavior. Dottie called her name again once she reached the stands but Chrissy never turned around. She just stood there, unresponsive, her back to the crowd as she faced the edge of the clearing leading to the woods.

“Chris? It-it’s me, Dorothy. You remember me?” Dottie said, a little bit spooked.

She lifted her hand, confused as to why Chrissy was not even acknowledging her presence when she’d always been so kind to her before. Slowly so as not to startle her, her fingertips brushed Chrissy’s bare shoulder while she called her name one more time; upon contact, the blonde’s head was immediately thrown back as her body became lax, falling in slow motion before she passed out right into Dottie. Acting on reflex, she managed to wrap her arms around her friend but could not stop the fall in time, both of them careening onto the floor and hitting the grass with a heavy thud.

“Oh god, are you okay?” Dottie said, still holding the blonde close while feeling for a pulse.

“Dottie?” Chrissy said, mouth dry. She felt damp in her own clothes, like she’d ran a marathon and only now noticed the cold sweat on her skin. “What- what happened? I don’t remember-”

“You passed out on me,” she replied, lifting herself up onto her elbows. “Are you okay? Do you need water? I’m gonna go get you water.”

“Wait, don’t go!” Chrissy grabbed her arm to stop her movements. “Please, don’t leave me alone, what if I pass out again?”

“Okay, yeah, you’re right. I’m- I’ll stay,” she nodded. “Um, lay- lay down and lift your legs. Here, against the wall like this.”

Chrissy nodded and lifted her pink sneakers to rest her feet against the warm metal booth wall without letting her friend’s hand go. Her skin was clammy and pale, her heart rate erratic and the circles under her eyes even darker in the shadows that surrounded them. Dottie sat behind her, cushioning her head with her thighs and rubbing calming circles with her thumb on her friend’s shoulder. Slowly, Chrissy’s breathing returned to normal as they stayed there, listening to the band playing in the distance and waiting until danger was seemingly out of sight.

“Are you feeling any better now?” Dottie asked, softly.

“Yeah, thank you,” she smiled, but her eyes remained fearful. “This… this is going to sound insane but - I think I was hallucinating before I passed out.”

“Have you eaten anything lately? Maybe your blood sugar is low.”

“Yeah, I had some fruit earlier. And a smoothie,” Chrissy said.

“When was that?”

“Um, breakfast, I guess? I gained some weight during the holidays so I’m on a diet. I’m so hungry,” she chuckled before she realized what she’d just said. “But I’m okay, seriously, you don’t have to worry about me.”

“Don’t worry about you? You need more food than that, you can’t eat just an apple and call it a day!” Dottie said in disbelief. “Come on, I’m getting a soda in you right now.”

“No, please, I swear I’m okay!” she pleaded, suddenly agitated. “I’ll have some soup when I get home, I promise.”

“You just passed out standing here, it’s a miracle I even saw you in the dark! You need food now, Chris, not when you get home in a few hours.”

“Please, Dot. You don’t understand, my Mom will kill me if she sees me eating anything from here.”

“She doesn’t have to find out,” Dottie said, helping her into a sitting position. “We can hide in Eddie’s van, I’m sure he won’t mind.”

“Oh, no, am I ruining your date night? I’m so sorry, I’ll just go-”

“You’re not ruining anything, we came as a group. It’s not a date,” she reassured her. “And even if it was, I can’t let you go like this! You’d be worried if it was me, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course, but-”

“No buts. Just let me help you out like you’d do for me. If anyone asks where you went, just tell them I was the one feeling sick and you took care of me for a bit. Nobody needs to know. Not your Mom, not Jason-”

“Oh, god, Jason,” Chrissy groaned, throwing an arm on her eyes. “I forgot about him!”

“What, he’s here?” Dottie said, craning her neck to see if he could spot him nearby.

“No, no, it’s… ugh. I’ve been avoiding him all week. I saw him with his friends by the teacups - that’s why I was here when I passed out, I was hiding from him. I must have gotten winded from running away or something and, you know…,” she gestured vaguely.

“Why are you avoiding him? Did he hurt you?”

“No, actually I hurt him.”

“What?”

“I broke up with him,” Chrissy explained in a tone that could only be interpreted as annoyed. “I just have too much going on right now. I have no time to see him with all the training I’m supposed to do before the preseason starts. And, well, he didn’t take it well. Like, at all.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Dottie snorted. “He’s trying to win you back?”

“No, he, like, refuses to accept that I broke up with him. Says it doesn’t count because I didn’t say it to his face.”

“Oh my god, you broke up with him over the phone? Chrissy, you dog!”

“I know, shut up!” they laughed together. “I know it was mean, I just didn’t want to see him cry, okay?”

“He cried?!” Dottie cackled loudly as if they were having a sleepover in her bedroom and not sitting in the dark between two food stalls. “I’d say I’m sorry but you don’t look too sad.”

“I’m not,” she said truthfully. “I mean… I don’t know, he isn’t a bad boyfriend. He loves me and he really tries but I just can’t deal with my Mom, him, getting ready for college, everything at the same time. It’s too much right now. And I keep having these horrible nightmares that just feel so real. I just needed a break, that’s all. It’s not his fault.”

“Well… maybe avoiding him is not doing you any good either,” the brunette reasoned. “It’s definitely stressing you out if you have to actively hide from him. I’m sure if you told him everything that’s going on in your life, he’d understand.”

“He’s going to think I’m losing my mind.”

“Welcome to the club, sweet cheeks,” Dottie palmed her face sarcastically, making her snort. “Look, it doesn’t have to be now, okay? Just think about it for a while and do what your heart tells you to do. Preferably after we get some food in you, please.”

“You’re so pushy sometimes,” Chrissy said kindly.

“I know,” she grinned in return. “Come on, let’s find Eddie and borrow his keys.”

Upon standing up, Chrissy’s legs didn’t even get the chance to wobble before Dottie was throwing an arm around her waist to help support her weight. Feeling equal parts thankful and embarrassed, she let herself be carried through the picnic area as they both scanned the crowd for the tall metalhead that had orchestrated the beginnings of their friendship. They found him standing on his tiptoes trying to spot a familiar face, hands and cargo short pockets full of goodies to share with friends.

“Hey, Chris!” Eddie said when they got near him. “When did you get back from up North?”

“Hi, Eddie! Uh, last weekend,” she said. “Sorry I haven’t called, I’ve just been so busy training and everything.”

“Ed, can we get your keys?” Dottie asked. “Chrissy isn’t feeling well and there are no free tables here where she can sit.”

“Yeah, sure. They’re in my back pocket,” he turned around and popped his butt out so Dottie could grab them for him. “You okay?”

“I’m better now, thank you,” the blonde said. “I passed out and Dot caught me, thank God she was there.”

“You passed out? I can go get you water if you want,” he offered, following the girls towards the parking area.

“I think she needs some sugar,” Dottie said. “Did you get any sodas?”

“Yeah, in my pockets,” he jiggled his foot a bit in the air to demonstrate how full they were. “I didn’t have enough hands for everything.”

“Sorry I abandoned you back there.”

“It’s okay, Chrissy needed you more.”

Once the trio was safely tucked in the back of the van, Chrissy filled Eddie in about what was going on in her life and, as expected, he reacted similarly to his girlfriend when it was revealed that Jason had indeed cried over the phone while getting dumped. He was much less insistent on her talking to her now ex-boyfriend to sort out their issues, but he still remained fairly supportive of her choices as he had always been.

Dottie picked at the basket of fries as Chrissy and Eddie talked, carefully paying attention to her friend’s eating habits. She had initially accepted the cold can of Coke Eddie had offered and taken a promising sip from it, but after that it remained untouched, condensation forming a ring on the floor of the van. Chrissy ate a total of two fries with no ketchup, and only took a tiny bite out of Eddie’s jumbo pretzel when he said that salt would help her blood pressure go up after passing out. Dottie knew this was likely much deeper than just this new diet her Mom had put her in and wasn’t really sure how to approach the situation gently. There was no need to, however, not when Eddie was three steps ahead and not willing to take no for an answer.

“You don’t like ketchup?” he asked her, shoving a fry into his mouth.

“No, I do, it’s just… I’m not feeling well,” Chrissy lied, rubbing her stomach. “I’m still a little dizzy.”

“You should drink more, the sugar will help,” he pushed, but not unkindly. “I can get you a different one if you don’t like Coke.”

“Sorry, I… I know I’m being weird,” she said, embarrassed.

“Chris, no one here is going to judge you for eating junk food. It’s a fair, it’s what you’re supposed to do at these places,” he patted her knee. “You can do whatever you want.”

“It’s not that simple, Ed. My Mom will literally kill me if she finds out.”

“You’re 18. You’re moving to Ohio in a few weeks. Fuck what your Mom says, you’re practically skin and bones. Just eat the damn pretzel, please.”

“You don’t get it,” she muttered, eyes beginning to fill with tears she’d been hiding for a lifetime now. “My new uniform doesn’t fit. I- I know I gained weight during the holidays, but it wasn’t that much. She must have gotten the wrong size on purpose because it’s so small. I’ll never fit in it.”

“God, Chrissy,” Dottie said, leaning to pull her into a hug. “I’m so sorry, she shouldn’t have done that. Can you exchange it for a bigger one? You can use my address for the delivery so your Mom doesn’t find out.”

“I called them already, you can’t send it back because it’s made to order. I have to get a new one or alter it, and my Mom already said she’s not helping me.”

“I can alter it for you! We can call my aunt for advice, she’s a great seamstress. I’m sure she’ll know what to do, we’ll figure it out!”

“It’s so unfair,” Chrissy said, her jaw tight. “I’m working out for hours every day, I’m barely eating, and I’m still not losing enough weight for her. I’m just so… so angry all the time!”

“Good! Get angry!” Eddie said. “We’ve been friends for months and I haven’t seen you eat more than three bites at a time. You deserve more than this, sweetheart. It’s okay if you’re pissed off, we’re not judging.”

“You also deserve to be healthy,” Dottie said. “And sometimes, healthy means sharing a basket of fries with friends. Do you think you can do that today? For us?”

Ever since she’d come back from her trip, Chrissy felt like her life was rapidly spiralling out of control. No matter how much she tried to hide it, the years of starving, binging, and purging to be followed by constant verbal abuse within the walls of her own home were finally catching up to her. She’d spent the last week eating cabbage soup and drinking herbal teas and weight-loss smoothies and she was so tired.

She was tired of everything, of the expectations placed upon her, of the persistent burning in her throat, of having to lie to her boyfriend, to her friends, to her doctors, to her own father. But most importantly, she was tired of the ever-present pang of hunger at the base of her stomach, and about feeling guilty of both getting rid of it or forcing herself to sleep the pain away.

With more anger than she’d ever allowed herself to truly feel in her entire life, she leaned over the basket of fries to reach for Eddie’s jumbo pretzel. Her friends watched in awe as she ripped apart a big piece from it, dunked it in the little cheese sauce container next to it and shoved it in her mouth, letting out a happy moan at the taste of the first appetizing food she’d had in forever. Without missing a beat, she grabbed the Coke can from its place on Eddie’s van floor and hurriedly gulped half of it, a stray drop escaping the side of her lips and falling onto her waiting hand under her chin.

“Goddamn, Chris!” Eddie exclaimed, clapping wildly for her.

“That was awesome,” Dottie said, eyes shining with delight.

“It felt awesome,” Chrissy said, both proud and shy at the same time.

Two booming hits to the side of the van made them all jump in their spots, a familiar nasal voice loudly ringing from the outside before the back doors had even been opened.

“If you guys wanted to go make out somewhere, you could have - oh,” said Gareth, clearly stunned to see Chrissy inside. “Hi?”

Still holding the can of Coke mid air, she opened her mouth to say hello when a huge belch came gurgling from the depths of her throat. Gareth, Jeff, and Donny stood there, completely shocked as the blonde turned to look at the only other girl present, both of them instantly dissolving into a fit of giggles as soon as they locked eyes with one another. Dottie enveloped her again in a tight hug and Chrissy returned it, feeling more like herself than she could ever remember being.

“You three joining the party or what?” Eddie said, scooting to make room.

“We thought you guys had ditched us,” Jeff said, climbing in while holding another basket of fries, a big plastic cup of fresh lemonade and a corn dog with mustard on it.

“Sorry I stole them away,” Chrissy smiled at him. “I was feeling sick so they’ve been taking care of me.”

“You okay?” Donny asked, dropping a huge funnel cake with powdered sugar and a popcorn bag in the middle of the circle for everyone to grab.

“I feel much better, thank you.”

The boys quickly got into a dramatic retelling of the contents of the fun house, which according to Gareth was for babies but still miles better than last year’s. Dottie and Jeff were discussing what ride they wanted to get on next while Donny and Gareth were sharing bits of funnel cake, commenting on the pros and cons of the different rooms inside the fun house they’d just visited when Chrissy felt movement next to her.

“Hey,” Eddie said, voice low to keep the conversation to follow as private as he could.

“Hey.”

“You don’t have to deal with everything on your own, y’know?” he said, leaning to grab a few pieces of popcorn. “We’re here if you need us. I know we’re not, like, cool or popular or anything, but we take care of our own.”

“I know, Eddie. Thank you,” she said, pulling him into a hug that conveyed how much trust she had in him and how meaningful his words were to her.

“What are we hugging for?” Jeff asked, passing his half eaten corn dog to Dottie who took a bite with gusto.

“The power of friendship,” Eddie replied theatrically.

“Alright, I guess.”

“Y’all wanna hotbox the van in the name of friendship?” Gareth said, pulling a little metal case from his pocket.

“Yes, please, I haven’t smoked in forever,” Chrissy said, snacking on a long fry.

“Fuck yeah, man, let’s do it,” Donny said as he relaxed against the walls of the van.

“You wanna go to the Ferris Wheel while they smoke?” Dottie proposed to Jeff, the only other non-smoker in the group.

“Come on, we’re not kicking you guys out so we can hotbox the van,” Eddie said, stretching behind Chrissy to shove her shoulder lightly. “We’ll open the windows, we’re not animals.”

“We can still do the Ferris Wheel later though,” Jeff said. “Should be fun.”

“You guys wanna go to the photobooth later too?” Chrissy asked while Gareth tightly packed a joint.

“There’s a photobooth?” Dottie said, instantly down for the new plans. “Do you think all of us can fit in together?”

“Definitely not, but we should try anyway,” Donny laughed.

It had never been easy for Chrissy to rely on others, and it wasn’t going to be easy to start now, but for these friends, her first real friends, she was willing to try. Besides, Eddie was right. Just a few more weeks and she’d be in Ohio, away from her overbearing mother and starting a completely new life, meeting new teammates and attending classes that actually interested her for once. She could only hope that these friendships she was beginning to develop would accompany her until her last day in Hawkins, and possibly even beyond that.

Freedom was so close, the finish line in sight. She just had to keep moving forward, one step at a time and victory would be hers. It was a shame, really, that she didn’t know someone else was quickly gaining on her on the inside track.

taglist: @munsonology @kurdtbean @eg-dr3amer3 @oneforthemunny @munsons-queen

@cinemabean

[kazuhahalol]

— love for you! | kurapika kurta x reader

It’s Valentine’s Day and you can’t help but notice your boyfriend is running late. No texts, calls, nothing. You go to bed feeling lonely that night.

Warnings: none

You never resented Kurapika for his priorities. His mission, his revenge, the weight he carried—it all existed long before you came into his life. You accepted it, understood that he wasn’t the kind of person who could drop everything for a single day of romance.

But still, as you walked home through streets lined with glowing storefronts and couples exchanging gifts, a quiet sort of loneliness settled in your chest.

It wasn’t that you needed flowers or chocolates or some grand declaration of love. You just wanted… something. A reminder that, even if his heart was burdened by grief and vengeance, there was still a part of it that belonged to you.

Your phone stayed silent the entire night.

You tried not to let it bother you. You told yourself it was fine—he was probably on a mission, or maybe just exhausted. You curled up in bed, pushing the thoughts away, and let yourself drift off, the chocolate you had bought him sitting on the nightstand untouched.

When the clock hit 12:02 on February 15th, sound of the door unlocking stirred you from sleep.

You blinked, groggy, as a familiar figure stepped inside, carefully shutting the door behind him. His blond hair was slightly damp, his coat heavy with the scent of cold air. In his arms was a large basket, brimming with chocolates, candies, and small, neatly wrapped treats.

“Kurapika?” Your voice was hoarse from sleep, confusion laced in your tone.

He set the basket down on the nightstand before sinking onto the edge of the bed. There was a hesitation in his movements, as if he wasn’t sure where to begin.

“I lost track of time,” he admitted, voice quiet. “By the time I realized, it was already past midnight.”

You sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. “You must be exhausted.”

“I am,” he said, finally looking at you. There was something raw in his gaze—an unspoken apology, a silent plea for understanding. “But I didn’t want to let today, or yesterday, pass without doing something.”

Your eyes drifted to the basket, filled to the brim with sweets. It was almost ridiculous, but the thought behind it, the effort—your heart ached in the best way.

“You really didn’t have to…” you murmured, reaching out to hold his hand.

“I know,” he said. “But I wanted to.”

His fingers closed gently around yours, grounding, steady.

You knew he wasn’t good at this, wasn’t used to softness, to set aside his burdens for something as simple as love. And yet, here he was, burnt out but trying. Choosing, in his own way, to remind you that you mattered.

You gave his hand a small squeeze, a smile tugging at your lips. “Thank you.”

Kurapika exhaled, tension easing from his shoulders. “I’ll try to do better next time.”

And you knew he meant it.

[mariyekos]

I've never done one of these before, but I figured why not give it a try! I wanted to cover a variety of fandoms for this, so I limited myself to 2 fics for each. The list is ordered by the date I bookmarked them, not by favorite. Links and summaries below the cut!

Heart Weather by bleachbleachbleach (kalliel) - Bleach

Living to see the end of a war is not the same as surviving it. In the wake of the Thousand-Year Blood War, the cosmic fabric of Soul Society has been fundamentally altered--and when Hitsugaya gets put in charge of managing the weather, it seems the prognosis can only get worse. Meanwhile, the consequences of his battle with Gerard are starting to catch up with him; and as the body count ticks up ever higher, the tolls of war are going to catch up to everyone. No body can contain all this grief.

Lead Me into Life Renewed by EclipseMage - Devil May Cry

Mundus made Trish for one purpose and that's to get back at Sparda and his bloodkin. Dante was only the cap of her project plan since they already had Vergil, and making Nelo Angelo was no easy matter.

Snatches of the past by WhiteBeakedRaven - Devil May Cry

A sharp taste, dripping with the essence of magic, suddenly blossomed in Vergil's space. Quicker than one could blink, the pen was switched out for the Yamato, Vergil changing his position to that of a crouched ready stance in one fluid motion. His sharp gaze was immediately drawn to the demonic presence he could feel, spotting the form of a person not too far from him. They were crouched as well. Two pairs of eyes of the same shade of blue met in the dim darkness. Recognition flared to life in both of them. “It’s you…” ----- Or, the five times Vergil met a misplaced man. And the one time Dante didn't recognize him.

ten piedad by aquilaofarkham - Castlevania (Cartoon)

“So you felt validated when Hell opened up and nearly swallowed this country whole.” The priest’s grip on his composure begins to loosen. “Never. Why would I feel validation or satisfaction in the suffering of others? To see those… things terrorize innocents?” The stranger lowers his head, face obscured behind locks of golden hair. Too beautiful for one who makes bold accusations. “Not all of them were innocent.”

eclosion by AayriSolassa - Final Fantasy XIV

Aymeric’s face turns white. ‘I had heard… stories but I always thought they were hearsay. Tales to scare children.’ Estinien laughs weakly, because he’s seen twenty seven summers and he’s fucking terrified. Aymeric’s jaw sets. ‘Well. ‘Tis a good thing I don’t scare so easily.' (or: the ritual of choosing the vessel for the new Azure Dragoon is all fun and games until wings burst from your back and aeons-old monsters speak from your lips)

Respite by u_andcloud - Fire Emblem: Genealogy of the Holy War

In the spaces between battles, where his life's purpose can't guide his every action, Finn finds himself keeping unexpected company.

Will There be Birds by Aloice - Final Fantasy XIII Series

He thinks he’s mourning her a little better than he mourned his childhood. (a collection of snippets, XIII-2 and LR, Hope POV)

give me the bones of what you believe by Dawn_Blossom - Fire Emblem: Awakening

It doesn't take a sword and a shield to end a god. Grima is Robin, and he is Chrom's tactician.

Take Heart by ScribeOfRhapsody - Final Fantasy XV

Wake up, try, fail, die, repeat. Will he ever be free of this hell? Will he ever be able to keep all of them alive until the end? (M rating for darker themes, nothing more.)

tu fui, ego eris by vanitaslaughing - Final Fantasy XV

Ignis would do anything to change the fate he foresaw. Even if it means joining hands with a man he hates. Even if it means betraying those he holds dear. Even if it means tormenting them under the guise of being loyal to the Accursed. He can turn the tide if he just stays close to the man. Night falls. Noctis stays.

Welcome to Feedback Fest 2025

Welcome to International Fanworks Day Feedback Fest of 2025! To participate, leave a comment under our post recommending 10 fanworks and spread the joy of fandom! Read more at: https://otw-news.org/yckvy6vh

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[badcountryofficial]

The way that u really have to choose clarity that hurts over hope that confuses it sucks

He rlly just wanted to scrub his life clean of me and move on after 2wks like if that isn't a very clear indication he wasn't the one for me idk what is. Idk what is. He wanted to be soooo mad at me for Leaving but then turned around and deleted anything that involved me and found someone new to obsessed over in 2 weeks. Like I'm better now and I'm coping and I'm moving on too but once in a while I think abt it and I do cry. Because I really thought he was the one. I wanted it to be him so bad I gave up SO much I sacrificed SO much and he wouldn't move a foot outside his comfort zone for me. It just hurts. And then for him to move on so quickly because he's just so vindictive. And I know very well that could have all been a lie to aggravate me and make me feel like shit but I'd rather believe he really did move on. I'd rather believe that than believe he'd lie to upset me, that's so much worse.