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thesilmarillionblog · 2 months

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𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭: 𝟓

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: You and Soldier Boy want to create a family and move on from everything, even the Vought, but you also know that he has to face Homelander one last time to keep his vow to Butcher. However, nothing turns out as you had hoped.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: Heavy angst, hurt, memory loss, Soldier Boy gets hurt, reader gets hurt, language

Word Count: 6025

A/N: English is not my first language.

This is inspired by the song 'Remembrance' by Memoria Futuri.༊

Soldier Boy promised to help you remember him, so you and him took your time in the room for some time more, and you thought twice about what to do next. The most powerful Supe would never lie to you about you having a relationship with him in the past; it would be absurd. He had no reason for lying to an ordinary person. Still, you were afraid he might use you to track Butcher and the others. Even so, you had to proceed with caution.

You politely interrupted him to not ruin the mood by saying, “Don't get mad, but I still need to talk to Butcher first and ask him about... us and learn why he wouldn't tell me about you.”

His hands immediately left your face after you had said Butcher a hundred times, and you carried on speaking until he said something offensive: “I know you hate them, and it's them who betrayed you. At least that's what you're telling me, but I must listen to him as well. You have to realize that I'm confused and frightened, and he's the only person I can remember.”

He looked around the room, irritated that you remembered Butcher but not him, despite the fact that you shared a lot with him. You placed your hands on the hard, cold material on his chest, on the star symbol, to show him that you weren't too distant or that you weren't pushing him away from you straight away. You waited patiently for his response. Without a doubt, Ben was more significant and unique than Butcher and everyone else to him, and he tried not to get angry.

With a cold voice and an irritated expression on his face, Soldier Boy remarked, “I can't believe you actually remember that pussy, but not me. I don't like how your brain works at that point.”

“I'm trying so hard to remember you, or at least a little something about you, but I'm just not successful. It's not that I forgot everything on purpose,” you whispered, feeling a little guilty about the idea that you might, your old self, actually love him if what he said was true.

On the other hand, you had no feelings of love or affection for Soldier Boy. In reality, though, you were scared because he appeared to be unpredictable and cruel. Even if you lost all memory of him, wouldn't you still love him? When you were having memory loss, you had no idea how the brain functions, but that's what you felt at the time.

Rapidly, “I know, I know,” Soldier Boy replied. “I'm not angry with you or putting blame on you. However, that son of a bitch needs to pay for what he did to you, including throwing your body against the table, hitting your head, and not telling you about me. He crossed the line.”

You added, “He must have a reason, and I really need to talk to him. I just need to hear it from him too,” feeling concerned at the way Soldier Boy discussed the past as though Butcher was the evil guy. Still, you didn't find anything you said to be slightly reasonable. Instead of keeping what happened to you a secret from you, he could have told you that both you and Soldier Boy had a past and given you the explanation you deserved.

“Don't you trust me?” He was annoyed that you would continue to stand up for Butcher in the face of him.

“To be honest, I don't trust you, but please don't get upset with me.” You whispered, “You know I have no memory about you, and I need you to understand me,” and he gave you a hurt look. You tried to smile at him and said, “But I think you'd already killed me the moment you found me in this room if I was a total stranger to you,” as guilt filled your heart. “That must mean something, right?”

With a surprised low laugh and a nod, Soldier Boy said, “You're a smartass, aren't you?”

Uncontrollably, his smile made you feel a little more at ease, and you exhaled a sigh of relief that he wasn't being aggressive anymore.

“So, talking about trust issues,” he added, arching an eyebrow. “I guess you don't want to go back to them since there is a high possibility that I would follow you and find your precious pussy friends, right?”

“Yeah,” you said, not wanting to risk the lives of others or anything because Soldier Boy was too determined to kill them. “In this case, I think I better call Butcher and talk to him through the phone.”

He nodded, “Very well,” relieved that you were no longer so keen to return to the traitors. It was certainly because he had threatened to murder them, but which reason wasn't important at the time. When you were so confused and bewildered, he would never allow you to return to them. You were obviously brainwashed by Butcher.

You looked around and said, “Okay, I'll call him, but you can get me out of here first?” as he waited patiently for you to call them. “You know, there are other politicians and supes.”

“Yeah, it's better we get the fuck out of here now,” he said with irritation. “I hate discussing politics anyway. Personal matters should come first, right?” Soldier Boy said, giving you a wink and picking up the gun off the table and putting on his suit again.

You nodded to him and adjusted your jeans. You flushed under his focused gaze, remembering how he had torn off your panties simply to spill himself on moments before. It was as though his gaze were stripping you. As he found out about your memory loss and that you didn't require intimacy, you hoped he wouldn't try to touch you again. After all, you had given him what he desired from you—that is, protection from harm. Nothing more.

As he observed you adjusting your t-shirt and hair while blushing, Soldier Boy added in a hard, serious voice, “By the way, we'll talk about your that hand job later.”

You simply looked at him with a flushed face, not answering him.

“Let's just leave without paying any attention to this house. Stay cool.” He heard your heart race and raised an eyebrow as if to warn you, saying, “I'll be following you.”

One of the politicians commented, “Ah, he's finally back,” as he sipped his drink and waived his hand to Soldier Boy as you walked by his side during your exit from the room.

“It's unfortunate that I have to leave now, gentleman. There is so much to do,” said Soldier Boy, putting a slight grin on his face and placing a small hand on your back. “Homelander will be available shortly, and he'll be the one to talk to you about details.”

You exhaled a relieved sigh, and politicians didn't even look at you as if you didn't exist. You would have assumed that they were already enjoying themselves without Soldier Boy because they were eating anything the waiters brought.

“Homelander just told me that we would be talking to you too,” one of them remarked. “The public is still worried about you returning given what you did in New York. Things are difficult to restore, especially when it comes to trust.”

“Trust is overrated; it's simply built on perfect lies. Also, who the hell cares about the public? I thought you were more experienced and smarter than this. Through the media and a well-written dumb speech, it's simple to dominate their thoughts.” Soldier Boy spoke harshly, “You already know that they are unable to view the bigger picture properly in their own narrow worlds. What's important is to find who's responsible for planning assassination against the vice president, find those terrorists Butcher and his useless team, and prove that the CIA is behind all of the shit.”

“And,” Soldier Boy said in an authoritative tone as one of the politicians opened his mouth to speak. “It will be exposed that the CIA was responsible for my forty years of fucking torture in Russia. The public will discover the truth in this way, and they will once more support their one true supe. That's how we rescue our nation from the trash that's been dumped on it. Are we clear about this?”

After a brief glance around, you noticed that The Deep and Black Noir were eating and conversing as though they were starving. You thought about if it would be simple to shoot Noir without drawing notice, and you still had your gun with you. Well, you have to do this anyhow. It was likely that by keeping Soldier Boy a secret from you, Butcher had actually betrayed you. But it wasn't like you were prepared to abandon them and simply join Homelander and Soldier Boy on their own wicked team. Not fucking way.

You have to use the virus on a strong person quickly enough to start developing it. But first, you had to take care of your own issue.

One of them said, “But..”

“No buts, no deals, no mercy,” Soldier Boy interrupted him right away. “Homelander will handle the majority of the problem on his own. With the exception of the CIA and their pawns, of course, neither Vought nor I want to see bloodshed, but it's best to bring things under control as soon as possible. Remember that President, Vought, and Homelander are trusted by the public. It's best if you give it your all. Consider this a recommendation or warning—I don't give a damn. However, be aware that the president will always back us. I mean, I'll be giving my best for my beloved nation, isn't that right?” Soldier Boy patted the politician's shoulder as he spoke, who was trying to get free of Soldier Boy's cruel and tight hold on him while clearing his throat nerveously.

“Yes, without a doubt, we are going to help you fix your public image. It is quite unfortunate that you are one of the victims of the CIA. It's simple to mislead the public about your intentions by the media,” remarked the other politician, who was casually sipping his whiskey and acting as though Soldier Boy hadn't just threatened them. “We are all in the same ship.”

Soldier Boy grinned broadly and added, “Vey good,” patting the politician's shoulder once more before he stepped back, clearly indicating he wasn't willing to spend time talking for hours. “I guess we are done here.”

Calling out to Black Noir and The Deep, Soldier Boy surveyed his surroundings. You stepped back and briefly locked eyes with Soldier Boy. When he saw that you were becoming anxious, his gaze softened, but he remained silent and did not move.

Squeezing Black Noir's shoulder firmly, Soldier Boy remarked, “The Deep and Black Noir, my old loyal friend from the Seven, will be discussing details.”

You were startled and alarmed when The Deep briefly locked eyes with you, but you ignored him and walked carefully toward the door, knowing that Soldier Boy was almost done with them. You were relieved that no one paid you any attention or questioned you. All of them showed interest in chatting with Soldier Boy.

“Are you okay?” whispered Soldier Boy as you waited for him outside, and you shivered when you felt his hand on your back.

You lied, “Yeah, sure,” and he instantly withdrew his hands.

It irritated him that you had become such a liar. “You must know that my Supe hearing can detect when you are lying to me,” he stated. You used to be different from this, and you always told him the truth about everything. particularly in regards to your current state of mind.

Even though you were the same person, it was difficult to accept that you had changed somewhat. But something has changed about you, and that's when Ben started to get upset. He had best to do anything needed to make you remember everything.

He shot you a cold look, and you said, “What will you do if I say, 'No, I'm not feeling good'?”

“At least I'd know you are being honest.”

With a quick smile, you said, “Well, remember that I don't even know you,” as if it didn't matter what you might have shared in the past.

Soldier Boy gave you a grumpy and unhappy look before gently pushing you to the car. After you left the supe-filled house, there was silence between you in the car.

Thinking about how he talked to the politicians, you felt uneasy and disturbed. You couldn't stop thinking about what kind of person you were and loved Soldier Boy if he was right about you being something months ago.

“What's happening in your head right now?” Soldier Boy finally asked you after giving you a look while you were driving. as if he were whispering.

This time, you said honestly, saying, “I was thinking about the way you talked to the politicians,” unwilling to ignore it and feeling a little more brave around him because he didn't appear to be a threat to you.

“And?”

You shifted in your seat, and you managed to ask, “Is it true that you are going to really team up with Homelander?” after giving it some thought.

Since he had a personal issue with Butcher and the others and was now filled with a desire for vengeance, you could try to understand him about them. However, it didn't seem proper to team up with the worst Supe alive and carry on doing out vile acts for evil people on behalf of evil people in positions of power. All it was was modern-day slavery.

“Are you having a problem with that?”

You shook in your seat at that moment, unable to speak for a long time due to the extreme coldness of his voice.

“Of course!” you replied, raising your voice slightly as if his question were the most ridiculous thing ever. Your former self could not possibly approve of the way he handled the Vought and Homelander crises. “What makes you even want to work with him? Even though he is biologically your son, he is still cruel and vile, just another Vought toy.”

“What do you expect me to do?” He raised his voice a bit as well, unhappy about how your voice sounded critical and icy toward him.

“Well, you don't have to allow people to take advantage of your strength simply because you hate Butcher and the others. If Butcher truly betrayed you like you told me, anyone could do so at any time; Homelander, politicians, and Vought included especially.”

“Even you?” he asked quietly, seemingly interested in finding out what you thought of him.

You were about to say yes, but you kept your mouth quiet out of fear for his reaction. Ben sighed, disturbed by your overly cautious and controlled acts next to him, as he realized that. It was as though you had truly vanished, as though he was speaking to someone else. He sensed then that even though you were with him at that same moment, by his side, he was still missing you. You were just with him physically. He realized then that he had to find you again and help you remember what you had. It nearly disturbed him to have that cautious, angry woman without memory by his side. He felt guilt filling his heart when he gave you an odd look. He had to be more understanding and soft toward you and not let his hatred for Butcher take over.

Soldier Boy simply said, “Things changed. You must choose a side no matter what time. Despite knowing that Homelander was actually my son, I had Butcher swear to murder Homelander. I was prepared to murder him until Butcher attacked me.”

You firmly stated, “He would never stop anyone from killing Homelander,” knowing full well that Butcher despised Homelander.

“It appears that you either don't recall everything about him or don't know everything about him. Do you even recall that Homelander's wife had a son?”

You exclaimed, “What?” in shock, thinking he was going to lie to you.

“Go ahead, give him a call, and ask about Ryan, his wife's son,” Soldier Boy added, flashing you a cunning smile.

“It seems like he didn't tell you.” Not surprised that Butcher was taking rather too long to tell you the truth about what actually took place, Soldier Boy asked with a slight smile. “And you still trust him, but not me.”

You kept calling Butcher every single time, and you said, “He's not answering my calls,” in a hurt voice. You had the option to call the others as well, but at that moment, all you wanted and needed was to talk to Butcher, and his lack of response was leading you to believe that Soldier Boy had been telling you the whole truth.

With a heavy heart, you placed your phone in your pocket and showed him how weak you were by holding yourself back from crying suddenly with your hands by your sides. When you were with Soldier Boy, you had no idea what kind of person he was, but you didn't want him to see you were that vulnerable, at least.

Butcher's betrayal was not quite as heavy as Kimiko's. When she knew you weren't even a Supe, why would she even leave you with Soldier Boy? If he had believed that you had deceived him as well, he might have hurt you. You believed that you had become friends with her. She must have known you for a very long period as well. The realization that she had been lying to you hit you even harder.

Confidently, “Of course he won't answer,” remarked Soldier Boy. “He must be planning what to say to you and how to tell fresh lies to deceive you, leaving you even more confused.”

“He doesn't need to take any action in this case.” You said in a sour voice, “I don't think you're a good person at all after hearing you there and listening to the way you talked to those people.” You could not possibly just accept him collaborating with Homelander.

He gave you a tender glance and stated, “You love me,” without even trying to understand what you were trying to convey. “You, Butcher, and everyone else are aware of that. When you remember about us, we can have a proper conversation, alright?”

Ben was just bothered by the weight on his chest, which gave him the impression that you were a shapeshifter even if you weren't. Even though he was in love with you, he couldn't shake the unpleasant feeling that was eating him alive. It felt like he was trying reaching out to the real you that was hidden inside your body when he tried to speak with you. It was hard with your aloof,

nervous, and icy gaze. It was always easy to persuade him because of your understanding and kind tone, even when you two had previously had some disagreements. But now everything was different.

Saying with a sigh, “I don't know what kind of person I was before my memory loss, but I'm positive that I don't, and I can't be with you. I don't know if I'll be able to retrieve my memory, but if not, my feelings for you won't change. You are cruel.”

You were about to add something, but, “That's not what you really think of me,” he cut you off. “Let's simply spend the night somewhere tonight and talk to the greatest doctors who can help you tomorrow in the morning. We both need some rest. We'll get through this,” Soldier Boy assured you, quickly putting your hand in your lap and giving it a gentle squeeze to demonstrate his patience and sympathy.

With a strange expression on your face, you questioned, “What if I don't?” as your thumb lightly brushed across the surface of his hand. “What if I never remember anything about myself, you, or us despite all effort, even if the doctors and I do our best?”

“I gave you my promise,” he murmured, trying to show confidence and self-assurance as if there was no other option. “All you need is the best medical and psychological care possible. I'm everything you need. Not with Butcher's lies, nor any other person's. Me alone.”

You wanted to believe him at that vulnerable time, even though you could never be certain of the kind of person he genuinely was with you in the past. You wanted to think that he loved you more than anyone else. Looking at his powerful hands, which might have killed you in an instant, you held back your smile, seeing those hands were holding yours gently. You couldn't stop thinking about giving it a shot, but you didn't want to be too close or too far away from him. Given how simple it was for him to swap sides, he was obviously a cruel Supe, similar to Homelander, but perhaps you could change things.

“Since you were unfamiliar with me an hour earlier,” he added, changing the topic. “Why were you alone yourself on the third floor? You were there because Butcher assigned you another foolish and risky mission? Sending you there as if you were some prey?”

You lowered your gaze to the point where your hands touched and said, “You already know the answer,” as he looked at you.

“He's too fucking brilliant or too stupid to send you to me. I have to admit you had me distracted. If he had another plan in his stupid head by sending you to distract me, he is most likely successful.”

You said, “Butcher actually had no idea you were going to be there.”

“So you're saying I was lucky to find you, huh?” Soldier Boy winked at you and continued driving, barely checking at the road. You were afraid of him because of how careless he drove. He wouldn't die in a car crash, but you most certainly would. “I must confess that I was able to recognize your voice from the one noise you made up there. I suppose my supersensitive hearing was overly sensitive to you these days.”

He asked again, curious, when you failed to respond, “Why were you there? What would you do with that adorable little gun of yours that's still attached to your adorable pants?”

You instantly replied, straightening your t-shirt and widening your eyes. “Nothing!”

“Don't get excited; you can keep that useless gun with you, baby, if it will make you feel better,” he remarked simply, becoming annoyed when you immediately withdrew your hands from him.

“It's just a gun, nothing more.”

You attempted to sound calm and collected, but you were sweating and your heart was racing, so he could know you were lying to him again. Surprisingly, though, he remained silent and didn't make you tell him the details—for which you were grateful.

“Okay, keep that tiny, adorable toy if it makes you feel more secure. For the record, I can defend you more effectively than anyone, but I must warn you that hiring a Supe to keep you safe from criminals is incredibly pricey.”

This time, when he smirked and spoke to you in a lighthearted way, you couldn't stop giggling.

You laughed in response to his amusement, saying, “I need to think about this.”

“By the way, why in the world did you give me a hand job there while you really didn't even know who I was?”

Attempting to act cool, you crossed your arms over your chest when Soldier Boy brought up the intimate subject between you, drawing your hands to yourself and making a flushed face. This time, his tone was a little more stern and cold instead of playful.

“You made an attempt to take me there. It appeared to be an escape route.” You defended yourself. You were certain that your face blushed crimson.

“Fuck, baby,” he sighed in annoyance. “Of course I wouldn't force myself on you if you simply said 'no' and explained your situation to me.”

“How on earth could I be knowledgeable about that? I was frightened when a supe tried to take me on a table since you seemed so determined to take anything you wanted there.” You raised your voice to try to win him over. You weren't even brave enough to act reasonably there.

“What if someone else was attempting to... and it wasn't me? Fuck. I'd rather not even think about it. Now that you are sitting in your seat without your underwear, look what happened. I must admit, though, that I really enjoyed your little handiwork.”

Soldier Boy must have seen your heart racing uncontrollably again, because he said these things to either make you feel shy or excited.

You asked abruptly, hoping to annoy him with a hint of harshness mixed with curiosity, “And how on earth you couldn't tell I was lying if your supe hearing is too sensitive when I said I missed you too, because I was definitely lying?”

He added in a sour voice, “I was too fucking horny to focus if your heart beat was racing because of excitement or lying, sweetheart,” dismissing the fact that you had lied to him about missing him and ignoring the burise on his pride. “Who knows? Maybe both.”

You felt guilty as you noticed the lighthearted tone in his voice fade into a sort of sorrowful glimpse. He was aware that you were going through memory loss and that you weren't truly missing him or anything. It wasn't your fault, of course, but since he was your former personality's boyfriend and not your own, you wanted to cheer him up right now even if you didn't know how. It was hard to believe that you were the same real person as before, but you had the impression that your memories of him were more important to him than you were.

You whispered to him, observing his expression. “But if I were the same person as I was months before, I'm certain I would miss you. Of course, that is, if we were a real thing.”

When Soldier Boy saw that you were trying your hardest to cheer him up, he lit up with you a tiny smile to let you know he appreciated it. Your genuine behavior, sensitivity, and compassion were still present, at least.

He said, “It's okay,” with such firmness that you remained silent until you got there. “I just want you to be honest with me.”

You were unaware that he had been holding your hand the entire time.

When you realized that they had decided to stay in the house that Butcher had brought you to a few days prior, you asked in a hushed voice, “Why?” in shock. It was the home you most likely spent several months living in.

You knew that Butcher had told you to leave when he found out Soldier Boy was free since Soldier Boy had also must have lived in this house for a while.

“I promised to help you to recover.” He whispered, “We have to start somewhere,” and quietly closed the door while urging you inside. “This seems like a good place to start. It is too full with memories for us.”

You said, “Butcher told us to leave this home as soon as he knew you were free,” obviously not wanting to reveal too much.

“I thought so,” Soldier Boy agreed, unable to stop thinking about Butcher's cunning ways and how he did everything in his power to keep you away from him, and he angrily remarked, “He balls are not big enough to confront me.” You could never be taken from him. No fucking way.

You inquired, “Do we have good memories in here?” not knowing if he would be completely honest with you.

“Both good and bad. It took us a while to really start a relationship,” Ben said, remembering the unpleasant moments when he was being mean to you, and you found it simple to tell him how you felt, but he wasn't as ready as you were to do so. “Good memories were also there, though. In the last three or two months, we managed to work it out. It wasn't like we were toxic or something. Mostly.”

You only mumbled, “Hmm,” as you tried to imagine your relationship in your thoughts.

You followed upstairs without saying anything more, feeling the need to return to the room where you were assured it wasn't important. You wondered if your feelings would change if you spent time with Soldier Boy this time.

With a sigh of relief, Ben followed you there and watched you go to the room where he had spent months. He experienced discomfort and agony at the same time since you could remember the room where he stayed even though you were completely unaware of it.

Even if you forgot about him and everything you had, a piece of your love was still there, clinging to him and refusing to let go. Your body had its own thoughts about him.

“What did you choose this room?” As you closed the door behind you, Soldier Boy asked softly, hoping you would recall one small detail about him.

The emptiness and silence in the room created the same heavy sensation that was tearing at your spirit and couldn't even be named. It was a heavy feeling that filled your heart with aching thoughts. You knew it was important even if you weren't sure if it was the nothingness or the silence that affected you that hard.

“I found myself in this room when Butcher brought me from the hospital to this house.” You mumbled, “I don't even know why,” unable to contain your own sadness.

“And?” Soldier Boy asked, forcing himself to suppress a proud smile at your remarks.

“I'm not sure why, but I had a very depressing, possibly saddened feeling that I can't quite describe. All I can recall is that that evening, I cried all as I fell to sleep.”

Ben kept coming toward you, hugging you tightly from behind and kissing the back of your head firmly, all with a heavy heart. Your hands brushed his rough ones on your lower abdomen, but you avoided pushing him since you believed that being near to him would help your brain function. Nothing compared to how close and intense it was.

Saying in a rough, whispery voice, “This is the room I've been in for months,” he said. “You actually spent a lot of time in this room with me; we had many wonderful moments together. Your body must have a memory of its own.”

“I really tried hard, but...” you began to defend yourself, not sure for what, but he interrupted you right away with understanding.

“I know, I know.”

With a shy glance, you were able to save yourself from Soldier Boy just after you had a moment of silence. You clearly needed rest after such a difficult and stressful day.

You said, hoping to change the conversation and find out what his intentions were about tonight: “Will we stay the night here? I should mention that you have nothing to wear. The entire wardrobe appears to have been emptied. But I'll search Kimiko's room for something for myself.”

“Yes, we definitely will. Also, that's not a big deal,” he muttered as he hurriedly began to remove the cloth covering his chest and place it on the table.

Thoughts raced through your head as you held your breath for a moment. It appeared that a discussion regarding the best course of action was required.

With the knowledge that Soldier Boy was determined about sleeping by your side, you changed your clothes after finding clean underwear in Kimiko's room. God, you thought he might try to fuck you again after you had given him a handjob two hours earlier. This time, you believed that handwork would not be sufficient. You needed to speak with him in a serious tone.

You had no idea how your sex life with him would be, and you didn't think he would force you or anything, but he was still a supe, your so-called ex-lover or whatever. The situation was simply awkward. You had to let him know that you were different now. When you walked into the room, he was examining every inch of you while wearing a sly smirk.

With a trembling voice, you stated, “Well, I guess I need to be clear about something.” You really tried to sound tough and confident. It was becoming difficult to maintain your composure, though, under his playful gaze as he removed his jeans and boots. “I must tell you that I don't want any sexual stuff because, as you know, I can't recall a single thing about us. Until I regain my memories, you are, at the very least, a complete stranger to me.”

Ben grunted in exhaustion as he lay on the bed, rolling his eyes and holding back a smile in response to your explanation. You watched him nervously, waiting for an answer.

“Actually, I had no intention to,” he remarked honestly. “Of course, I still love you and want to give you a good fuck very much, we both need that, but you know, you kind of feel like a different person now. I suppose we need to go through this quickly so you will remember us. When things get back to normal in our relationship, that's when I'll give you a big, deep fuck, so you better heal quickly.”

His lighthearted remarks about how you were like someone else to him didn't make you feel better—in fact, they kind of broke your heart—but at least he was serious about staying away from you, which was good. What you shared in the room hours ago was already too much.

You turned your back on him and felt his naked upper body moving closer to yours instantly, but you remained motionless. You simply awaited his next action.

Once more, the hands of Soldier Boy stroked your lower abdomen, drawing you even closer to him and pressing your back against his bare and warm chest. You felt his power on your back. Uncontrollably, your hand contacted his rough one to see whether he would react to you and to feel something toward him. Although they were warm, rough, and understanding, surprisingly, his hands were not forceful.

He mumbled to your ear, wanting you to make yourself remember what you had. “We used to spend most of our time here, lying like this for months, for many nights,” he said.

Your hands lingered on his hands and said nothing, and he went on, “I miss you so much.” His tone was achingly sharp.

The way he'd said it, with his firm voice as though he was talking to someone else, was supposed to make you feel better, but it didn't. You wondered if he would still love and care for you, even if you felt like a stranger to him and you couldn't remember anything about him. With that kind of personality, wouldn't he love you? He had loved and missed the other side of you that he had been missing.

There was no more space between you two as he held you near to him; your back felt the warmth of his bare, powerful and warm chest, but you were agonizingly too distant to stay close and way too cold.

Next Chapter

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A/N: Comments are very much appreciated. They keep me going. ^.^

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sarafinamk · 5 months

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Fallen Angel (Smiling Critters Space Riders AU Reader Insert) Part 3

Summary: Without the red smoke to help you through rehab, you begin to experience thoughts and feelings that you never had before. It gets worse before it gets better, but don't worry. It DOES slowly get better.

Check out the other parts here. Also, check out Part 2 to my Incorrect Quotes if you haven't already. The Smiling Critters Space Riders AU belongs to @onyxonline. Enjoy!

TW: Mentions of Blood, Mentions of Injury, Imprisonment, Trauma, Death mentions, Mentions of murder, Religious Trauma, Religious Imagery and Symbolism, Religious Cults, Drug Withdrawal, Drug Addiction, Mentions of Self harm, Mention of Suicide Attempt, Mental Health Issues, Slight cursing, LOTS of negative thoughts, Implied Abuse, Conditioning

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You weren’t sure how long you’ve been imprisoned at the heretics’ main space station for. Based on the lines scribbled in your journal, and what those healers and heretics told you, the closest timeline you could estimate was a month and a half…

Could be more…

In your defense, being in and out of consciousness because of not only healing from your wounds but dealing with your hellish headspace gave you no chance of keeping track. You weren’t sure if you TRULY wanted to know how long it’s been though…

Some of your wounds, at least, have healed. If you weren’t wearing those power mufflers, all your wounds would have disappeared a long time ago. But, no.

Those heretics just HAD to insist you heal the hard way. It is bad enough that those healers and their knights were watching your every move on the cameras. There was no nook or cranny in your accommodation that wasn’t under constant surveillance. They didn’t even try to be discreet about them. What’s worse is that now you had your whole body, head, and face exposed, especially to the people hellbent on killing you. They didn’t even deserve to have a face to associate with the Archangel. It was for your own good, they said. All that did was leave you with voices in your head screaming at you to get out, run, and hide from those prying eyes.

So what if there were a few instances where you tried to scratch yourself until you were satisfied with the red on you? You just needed a way to stop yourself from feeling these weird feelings. It’s leaving you weak. What would the Prototype say if he saw you showing such weakness when you were raised better than this? The scratching never went as far as it did the first time, though and it would never be like that ever again. Not on the heretics’ watch. They would always intervene before the first sign of red.

You spent a lot of time thinking about the perfect escape plan. You would get those power mufflers off, destroy those cameras the first chance you get, create a void, (maybe kill a few heretics along the way to send a message), and make an easy escape back to the prototype. It’s just… you could never muster any energy to go through with your ideas. You hated that you grew so lazy and weak when no prison was able to keep you contained in the past.

What happened to you?

Where was your energy to fight back, to make those heretics pay for what they’ve done to you…?

But…

Why save you?

Probably to interrogate you, torture you for ALL the intel concerning your God, and once they get everything, kill you. They can sure as hell try, but you’d rather die than betray your God and family like this!

You groan, cradling your pounding head with one hand. You slide down against the wall. Even though you've been clean for some time now, but you're still trying to get used to this red smoke free headspace of yours. Now you're just left sitting with thoughts and feelings you never had to sit with before, and you hated how much it consumes you. You wished you had the red smoke to help you through this, to make you forget these feelings, to go back to normal. But the Prototype never came back for you… no rescue parties were made for you as far as you know.

A few healers and knights argued that if he really wanted you back, he would’ve come get you by now, but he didn’t, and none of your “friends or family” did either, so you might as well get used to being here. You reminded them every single time that you don’t have “friends” nor are you selfish enough to need any. The Prototype was all anybody needed. You had that argument about 26 times before you stopped. There was no point in continuing this fight if they just refused to see any sense.

You hated to admit it, but...

Maybe they're right.

Not once, in the entire time since you’ve been separated from the Prototype was he there when you needed him the most. Your chest and the back of your eyes burn. Your vision goes blurry. You clench your blanket draped around your shoulders and take a few deep breaths until the burning sensation is smothered, and your vision clears up. You are NOT going to let weakness consume you.

Not now.

Not ever.

Not as long as you’re at the mercy of the heretics.

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Here you are, three months deep into your rehab program, sitting on the floor, and studying another one of Bubba’s “philosophy books” as he called them. He gave you some so that "you weren’t left pacing back and forth in a cell or being stuck with your thoughts all day." Granted you do try to do a few exercises to build your strength back. You discovered it was the best way to distract your mind from the mere thought of desiring red smoke. At least the books give you more to do in your cell.

To you, it was all heretic propaganda to stray the weak-minded away from the divine truth. It was still intriguing to study about, all the same. Besides, if you're going to be staying with the heretics, then now is a good time to start learning about their world and culture. As much as you hate to admit it, you're beginning to understand why many heretics find these kinds of teachings appealing. Not only does it go against everything the Prototype preaches, but there were so many teachings to choose from. How do the heretics even know which teachings are true? How do they know which teachings they should follow for the rest of their lives?

It was all so strange.

Back home, there is only one absolute truth: everything that happens in the galaxy is thanks to the Prototype. He’s the eternal source of happiness, of wisdom, of strength, of a second chance at life. He is in control of all. He gives his people his gifts, and in turn, they serve him. They devote their lives to him. To not believe in this truth would mean certain death.

In the heretic world, it seems it is up to the individual to shape the world in their image. Apparently, to discover the truth, you have to be willing to question everything. But how do these heretics expect to survive if they're expected to find their own happiness? How can they be trusted to take control of their lives when they don't fully know whether they made the right decision or not? How are they able to peacefully co-exist despite their differing beliefs?

Perhaps it's something you can clarify with the Space Riders when they come in for yet another visit. They've visited you quite frequently, but it was all so strange. They never asked you anything about the Prototype or the cult. In fact, the topic of conversation was always about… you. They would ask what you have been doing in “rehab” as they call it, how you are managing your red smoke cravings, what you have learned, how are the books (in Bubba’s case), and possible arrangements that are to be made once you are back in their custody. When they exhausted those topics, then they would make conversation with you...

Er...

...More like they would TRY to make conversation with you and you would give short answers. Sometimes, you wouldn't say anything at all. They never forced you to speak, nor did they ever punish you for being insubordinate. Instead, they just moved on to a different topic. This was something you never understood, but maybe they just want you to let your guard down long enough before punishing you.

The echoing of footsteps gets louder and closer to your cell, pulling you away from your thoughts. The seven Space Riders greet you, make themselves comfortable in front of your cell, and begin with the usual questions about you. You bite the bullet and decide you might as well entertain them.

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bucketsofmonsters · 25 days

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Where the Light Enters - Part 4

cw: unreliable narrator, hurt/comfort, slow burn, eventual sex, enemies to lovers, past childhood sexual assault, past sex trafficking, referenced noncon, panic attacks, happy ending, the tags look scary but this is mainly a story about recovery

Cole/Female Inquisitor

word count: 3k

ao3 link

Masterlist

The place they were currently staying was called Haven.

She hadn’t understood the first few times, had thought they were saying that this place was a haven for them in this fight.

It didn’t feel like a haven to her.

Haven was a lot of things.

She was told there had been important things here, years ago. Some sort of religious symbol. She’d been told about it like it would mean something to her. Very little that they said meant anything to her, but at least usually it was about things in current times that might actually affect her, not just legends of some artifact long gone.

It was also allegedly a home, a place where they could seek refuge. If that was what it was, she thought she would probably hate it less than she did.

The cold was the first thing she took grievance with. She’d had to pull strings and call in favors to get enough furs to be able to survive the cold, let alone feel anything close to alright in it.

Everything was so far apart too, insisting you go out in the cold in order to get anywhere.

There was also the matter of how open it was. She was accustomed to squirreling herself away, letting her existence fade into the back of people’s mind when she did not need anything from them.

Even as an important figure for this group she’d stumbled into, she thought she’d be able to hide on occasion if it weren’t for the fact that there was no way to move in the open space against stark, white snow without drawing the attention of everyone within a mile radius.

Haven was a lot of things. Easily defensible was not one of them. So when the enemy came, seeking the power that had embedded itself into her palm, there was little they could do.

When the first chance to flee presented itself, she took it, running through old paths half remembered by some chantry member who’d been there far longer than they had.

She’d immediately taken the side of abandoning it all. This place was worth nothing to her, less than nothing even.

And so they fled.

They were out before the army could even really draw close.

Cole was nowhere to be found as Haven was taken, as their sanctuary was razed to the ground.

They escaped into the mountains, where it was somehow impossibly colder than Haven was. She was glad she’d been layered in her furs, half convinced she’d have frozen to death by now if she hadn’t. Every time she saw one of the chantry folk in their robes she would wonder how they could be standing and moving around like they were. Even in as many layers as she had, her hands were frozen solid, planted firmly between her thighs trying to sap some heat from the rest of her.

She saw a layer of frost developing on Cullen’s armor and shivered sympathetically. She hadn’t even considered how cold the metal would get in temperatures far below freezing.

Him and Cassandra seemed completely unphased by this, instead bickering about something in the corner. Josephine and Leliana quickly joined them, all fighting about something.

They kept trying to draw her into the conversation and get her to make choices. She steadfastly refused, bundled up on a crate under a hastily constructed overhang, trying to avoid the snow that lay in both directions.

She did a silent head count as she sat there. Bull came over and ruffled her hair affectionately, leaving her another blanket before heading off to help his Chargers.

She saw Solas stomping around and groaned internally, wishing that he’d been left behind somehow.

Varric smiled at her in the distance, off helping some stragglers alongside Blackwall.

Some new mage was there, and Cullen came over to inform her that his name was Dorian and he’d warned them of the coming attack.

She gave him a polite wave and then went back to ignoring him.

The only person she recognized who was missing was Cole.

It was too much to hope that he was permanently gone. It was not unheard of for him to disappear for long stretches of time. She was sure he would be back, sooner rather than later.

But still, she couldn’t help but wonder if he’d be able to find them, out there in the mountains, where even the monster that had come to hunt them couldn’t seem to find any trace of their army.

She wondered even more so when they found this new home.

Skyhold, someone had called it, she was fairly certain.

She shouldn’t have wanted to see him there. He was a nuisance more than anything.

And yet she found herself looking in dark corners and seeing if that vacant look would show up in anyone’s eyes as they got that nagging feeling that they’d forgotten something after Cole left them a little better off.

She wondered if maybe she’d begun forgetting him.

She wasn’t sure why Cole hadn’t made her forget it all already. It would make things easier for him.

But then again, he seemed a lot less concerned with ease than she was.

No, making things easy and safe was never something Cole wanted.

Part of her thought that he did it very intentionally. That one of two things was happening. That either he wanted her to remember all the threats, to make her careful, or worse, he thought remembering him might help her.

But she didn’t want to think about that so she stamped it down deep inside her.

And then, one day, a week into moving into Skyhold, she saw him. He was up on the battlements that lay on the edge of their new castle. He was perched on an overhang with no one else looking up at him.

She could see him. She wondered if she was the only one who could or if it was simply that no one had bothered to check.

Either was acceptable, so long as no one questioned him too much. With the secrets he’d gathered, she’d prefer if no one but her ever noticed him again.

Because that was the problem. He needed her alive, but somehow he hadn’t seemed to realize that he didn’t need her safe and happy, didn’t need her in a position of power.

Just alive.

She wondered why he hadn’t plucked the thought right out of her head the way he had so many others.

She didn’t expect to see him again for a while after that. He seemed more than content to lurk in the shadows on his own, far less friendly than he used to be. She stopped looking for him at all after she saw that he’d found his way to Skyhold.

It was unbecoming to look for him like this.

The next time she saw signs of him, he wasn’t actually present. There was a small pastry on her bed with a little nineteen piped atop it, one she recognized instantly. She’d been given one just like it on her birthday years ago, a lower number written across the top then, though she could barely remember what it was. The years all blended together. She’d been given it by someone who’d thought they were doing something nice. She supposed in that way it was a perfect mimicry.

It probably meant it was her birthday.

It turned her stomach to look at it. Even if it hadn’t been tied to a wretched man, it reminded her of her march towards undesirability, closer to losing the only thing protecting her.

She picked it up and disposed of it immediately, trying to purge the thought of it from her mind.

Cole graced her presence a few hours later. “I didn’t mean it to hurt,” he said, her heart skipping a beat as he appeared out of nowhere. “It was your birthday and I saw it. I thought it might help. It’s hard to tell with you, everything is so tangled in the hurt.”

“Fine,” she spat. “Next time you’re not sure, just leave it alone.”

“I don’t know how to help.”

“That’s why you should leave it. Since when do you try to help me anyway? What happened to me causing the hurt and you wishing you could kill me.”

“I can’t kill you. I should still do something.”

“There is nothing you can do for me,” she said, not even angry at him. It was simply true, a fact that she was informing him of. She was beyond helping. “Focus on people who might actually appreciate it, alright?”

She didn’t wait for a response before storming off.

Two weeks passed before she saw him again. He’d taken her advice and left her alone and she was better for it.

And then, in two weeks, Bull’s eyes got vacant in that familiar way that she’d come to understand meant Cole had helped him and she got mad.

It usually didn’t matter, when anger overtook her. It wasn’t like she was allowed to let anyone see.

But Cole had caused this, and she could be angry at Cole all she liked. Nothing she could do would make him buy into the meek girl everyone else saw so she could be as mad at him as she wanted.

So she went to see Cole.

She didn’t know where to look but it was like he knew she was looking. He showed up for her so quickly and she wondered if maybe he didn’t realize how upset she was.

“You helped him,” she shouted, accusationally. “You helped Bull. You know what he’s done! How could you do that?”

“He doesn’t know he’s done anything. It’s a mistake. You could tell him and he would stop.”

She was fully aware that she was being unfair and it did nothing to stop her. “You know it’s not that simple.”

“You hurt people,” he said softly. “And you deserve help.”

“It’s not the same,” she insisted.

“No, it’s not. You know you’re hurting them.”

Her breath came in stuttery and she hated that this was affecting her, that she couldn’t even be angry properly. “I’m doing what I have to. I don’t have another choice.”

“There’s always a choice,” he said, irritatingly and never-endingly inexpressive. She couldn’t read him, not even a little, and yet he could peer directly into her head like it was nothing.

It just wasn’t fair.

“Shut up,” she hissed.

“You can be mad if it dims the hurt,”

It made her ten times as angry to be given permission to be mad.

She picked up the thing nearest to her, some dusty book someone had forgotten about, and threw it at him.

He dodged it easily, without even thinking.

She stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her as hard as she could. The sound of it echoed through the stone hall. It didn’t make her feel any better.

She left without Cole the next day.

They were heading to a desert somewhere to go close rifts. Solas had begged her to look for elven artifacts and she’d promised him they would and then immediately disposed of the request mentally.

She’d brought that new mage with her, Dorian she was pretty sure his name was.

He seemed lovely by nature of his greatest virtue, not being Solas.

Bull offered to tag along. He never seemed to stop offering lately and she didn’t have the energy to shut him down, so he came too.

Blackwall also went with them, just by nature of being in the armory when they were suiting up to head out. She didn’t mind. He was a good shield and endlessly noble, set on ensuring she didn’t get hurt.

He seemed distressed over how young she looked, not enticed by her like some of the other men in the Inquisition were. It didn’t matter to her, as long as he kept her safe.

It was a quiet affair. Dorian was a chatty one, trying endlessly to strike up conversation, but neither she nor Blackwall would take the bait, just stomping through the desert.

Bull tried to engage him in conversation but Dorian was not fond of Qunari so that devolved quickly. She didn’t pay too much attention, more than content just kicking up sand as she walked.

A few hours into wandering the hot desert, they found a rift. It was hard to hide from the chaos of the battle in a desert, with far too few things to cower behind until it was all over. She just hunkered down as best she could and trusted her companions.

She was looking away when a stray spell from that new mage hit her, the bolt of light embedding itself into her shoulder, searing pain shooting through her.

She yelped, curling in further on herself in an attempt to make herself small.

It felt like an eternity before it was over.

Dorian rushed over, apologies spilling out of his mouth as his hand pressed into the wound.

She flinched away from his touch as it made the wound sting worse. Blackwall went to lift her up before Bull pushed past him, hauling her into his arms.

She wished Blackwall had been allowed to do it.

She barely paid attention to anything but the pain as they made their way back to Skyhold.

It did occur to her that with anyone else, they’d just push through this injury, take a health potion, bandage it up, and keep on going. She wouldn’t even have thought twice about it, except for when she had to feign sympathy.

She was dropped off at the medical tent at Skyhold and the three men were shooed away, the woman there insisting that they really did not have enough space for three grown men, one of them a Qunari at that, to be loitering.

They got her fixed up pretty quickly. It wasn’t too severe an injury, all things considered, necromantic spells just tended to leave a lingering bone-deep ache that other types of magic didn’t.

It would last a long time, she was told. She might feel it when it was about to rain, told like it was a joke that she’d be stuck with this pain, rolling in with the thunder.

She was given something for the pain when she asked, and she was sure she only got it because she was the Inquisitor overreacting to something that wouldn’t have phased any other soldier.

And then she was sent back to her room, the tent too busy with actual injuries to deal with her any longer, even if she was a girl who’d stumbled into a leadership position.

Any other leader would have given up their cot immediately, insisted that the medical care go to people who really, truly needed it. She just grabbed her pain medicine and left.

She should have gone to see Bull and milked this injury for all it was worth. Maybe stop by Blackwall if she couldn’t stomach that, or guilt trip Dorian a little without letting him realize that was what she was doing.

She returned to her room instead, set on doing it in the morning, knowing she couldn’t avoid it forever.

But for tonight, at least, she could rest.

Cole was standing beside her bed when she reached her room and she considered throwing something at him again, like he was a wild animal she could scare off.

He whipped around, eyes darting down to her bandaged shoulder and then back up to her face.

“You don’t mind it,” he said. “It means they’ll leave you alone and it means they think you’re small so you don’t mind.”

“I don’t like getting hurt,” she responded. “I don’t know where you got that from.”

“You don’t like it, but it’s easier. You like it when it’s easy. And you don’t mind this hurt quite as much.”

She shrugged, opening her little bottle of pain medication. “Can I just go to bed please?”

“Can I have some,” he asked, staring the bottle down.

“Why?” she asked, already knowing the answer the endlessly selfless spirit would give. “Are you hurt?”

“The pain claws at them, years gone but still in them, like shards of swords lingered. Some nights they want to claw it out but there’s nothing there to take.”

“So what, you’re going to drug people? I’m sure that will go over well, a bunch of soldiers who don’t know their inhibitions are off.”

He paused, seeming to really consider that. “I’ll make sure they know. Remember the medicine, don’t remember me.”

“Fine,” she said, emptying half of it out. “Take some. You just can’t give it to Bull.”

She knew exactly what she was doing. She was picking a fight.

He just looked sad.

“I won’t stop helping,” he said. “But I don’t want you to feel sick.”

“I always feel sick,” she said, verging dangerously close to honesty. She couldn’t afford that, not even with Cole. Anything else had been a lapse in judgment.

His face fell. “Not because of me. Never because of me.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself.”

“I won’t give them to Bull,” he declared. “I will help him away from you, do my best to soothe the hurt where you can’t see.”

It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. She shouldn’t even be mad. “Whatever,” she said with a huff.

“It does matter,” he said. “All of it matters. I didn’t think it did, but you’re a person alongside the bad and the hurt burrows in you. It’s not inside you, not fully. The rot can be cut out.”

“You won’t be cutting anything out of me.”

“I didn’t think I would, but it matters that you could. The rot is a part, not the whole.”

And she couldn’t stay mad, her already flimsy reasons collapsing in on themselves. He was wrong, but it meant something to her that he believed. Maybe just for tonight that could be enough.

She didn’t have to say as much. He was gone as soon as the thought crossed her mind, leaving her to finally get some sleep.

#dai cole #cole dai #cole dragon age #dragon age cole #dragon age inquisition #dai #colemance #where the light enters #In which Britches is unreasonable and Cole doesn't know how to apologize

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saphhhiree · 1 year

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solitary embers:

the deadly dance of the jack of hearts.

a/n: chishiya x flirty!clever!reader. this is during the solitary confinement game that’s played in season two! my first fanfic on here…. i’m trying my hardest LOL. anyway… list of flirting from the reader, chishiya definitely “hates” it. erm ya this will be a series with smut at some point enjoy!!! also.. i don’t remember like anyone’s name except for urumi, banda and obi

within the dark confines of teio prison, another sinister game of life and death began—the jack of hearts. each player wore a collar with a hidden card suit on the back, and the challenge was to deduce their own symbol without the aid of mirrors or reflective surfaces. the stakes were high, and the players' lives hinged on their ability to trust others to unravel the mysteries of their collars.

amidst the tension and uncertainty, you found yourself in a large room with 19 other players, including chishiya shuntaro, a master strategist that you played with during the game of tag. “chishiya!” you called out, relief washing over you seeing that at least you weren’t alone, you knew chishiya, he’s smart. you needed him on your side for this game specifically. he softly nodded in your direction.

as the hour of free roam began, players scattered across the prison, forming alliances in their quest for survival. you observed the interactions among the others, trying to discern who might be a trustworthy ally and who could be the elusive jack of hearts. soon you cautiously ventured into the prison grounds, your heart pounding with anxiety. the atmosphere was tense, and the sense of isolation weighed heavily on your shoulders. a large monitor displayed the faces of your fellow participants, a haunting reminder of the deadly stakes. as you continued your exploration, you spotted chishiya, he appeared deep in thought, you followed his gaze that was fixated on the same monitor. a part of you wished you could approach him, hoping that his keen mind might offer valuable insights. however, you hesitated, unsure if he would welcome any intrusion. you soon found the snack area, looked around at the large amount snacks and water provided. it seemed the prison authorities were intent on making this a long-lasting ordeal. the realization that this game could continue for what seems like forever only added to the weight on your shoulders. as you continued you search you wound up back in the main room, chishiya still there. you weren’t close in any means, but the shared experience of one game together meant you could trust eachother on a surface level.

"hey, have you figured out your symbol?" urumi asked, approaching you with a weirdly big grin. "um not yet," you replied, trying to keep your nerves in check. "but i’m working on it." you flashed two quick thumbs up with a sarcastic smile on your face. chishiya stood against a wall nearby, listening to the exchange silently. he glanced at you and raised an eyebrow, as if to say, "are you okay?" you offered a small nod, appreciating the unspoken support. you walked over to him,“chishiya.. have you noticed anything that could help us?” you asked, his eyes met yours, he smirked briefly and stated “observation is key. we have pay attention to even the smallest details.” youre curiosity piqued, you winked and leaned in his ear, making it look like you had something extremely important to say, “well, chishiya, i’ve done some observing, and i’ve deducted that you’re one of the most intriguing details about this whole place… i can’t help wonder what’s lurking behind those mysterious eyes..” you leaned back against the way a slight smile on your face. his lips twitched, finding it hard to suppress a smirk as the lightest shade of red dusted his ears and cheeks. “you know, flattery won’t get us out of here.” he turned his head as he spoke, thankful that it’s slightly dim in the room. “ah but it never hurts, does it chishiya? besides, we could all die tomorrow, why not have some fun?” you turned your head to meet his gaze, shrugging as you spoke. “let’s just focus on the game.” he couldn’t read you, were you being serious? or just trying to lighten the mood? or both?? “aw i promise not to distract you too much” you sarcastically spoke, he ignored you, and looked at the the groups trying to observe them without thinking about what you just said.

as the minutes dwindled, everyone walked to find their chosen confinements to say their card suit. you and chishiya slowly made your way to the cells, walking side by side. "i can't help but feel that this game is designed to sow distrust among us," chishiya said, his voice low but steady. you nodded in agreement. "of course our resident genius knows what to do, i get it, it's all about survival. we can't let ourselves get too comfortable with anyone." he rolled his eyes at the first part of your sentence, “let me say it again, flattery won’t get us out of here, y/n” you giggled a little bit side eyeing him. he intrigued you, it felt like forever ago since you guys played tag with usagi and arisu. you couldn’t hide the fact that he piqued your interest that night, watching from afar from the highest floor, then pulling out a homemade taser??? you wanted to break his shell. figure out if his quiet exterior hid a deeper level of insight and emotion. a voiced chimed to let the players know they should retreat to their cells as they had five minutes left. both slowly approaching your cells, you asked, “i can trust you right ?” and turned around. with a subtle gesture, chishiya reached out and lifted your hair, fingers brushing against you neck leaving a trail of goosebumps down your spine. your heart skipped a beat, you found him attractive yea, and this had to be done in order for you to make it to the next round, but you couldn’t help feel soothed by his electrifying touch, a tender twinge of intimacy in the midst of a deadly game. he pretty much read your mind, “i’m sorry, it’s the only way” he murmured, voice soft and hesitant, almost as if he wanted to explain the touch. he leaned in close to you, his warm breath grazing your ear, “hearts.” you bit your lip, trying to steady your racing thoughts. “thank you.” you whispered back, all the confidence you had when flirting with him previously gone. grateful for the moment of trust. you turned back around facing him, “well mr. mysterious, it’s only fair if i tell you yours..” you tried being playful to ignore the fact you could hear your own heartbeat in your ears. he took off his hood, “spades.” you said as he turned back around. he nodded, a silent gesture that was still appreciated.

you entered the cell, as it seemed to hold its breath as you waited for the prompt to give your answer. mind still flustered from the earlier interaction, “hearts.” moments later, a soft click echoed through the cell, confirming your answer was correct.

RAHHHH!!!!!

i will work on pt2 soon! i hope you guys liked it. still working on writing n stuff.. sorry if any of this is ooc!!! enjoy the rest of your day/night :)

PART TWO IS OUT!!

#alice in borderland #aib x reader #chishiya x reader #chishiya x y/n #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya alice in borderland #chishiya shuntaro x reader #solitary embers

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caker-baker · 2 years

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Placate

The hero wanted to believe it was one of their friends, an agency member, someone else, anyone else, they would have taken a burglar at this point.

But no. No friend, agency member, or burglar would leave the front door open so purposefully, so dauntingly.

They knew this day would come, they just didn’t imagine it would be so soon.

The light turned on.

“Where have you been?” The villain asked from the lounge chair, petting the hero’s cat.

It was very obviously a rhetorical question, the villain knew where the hero had been, because now the villain was here, too.

The hero’s eyes flicked down to their purring cat comfortable in the villain’s lap, back up to the villain’s expectant face.

“I was–am on an assignment.” They wondered how fast they would have to be to get their cat and then get to the panic button.

Not fast enough.

If they needed to be placating, they could be. It would what drew the villain to them, they knew that now.

“An assignment that takes six months?” The villain asked, lazily waving their free hand around. “An assignment that gives you this? It’s cutesy, comfortable. Too small for my taste, but you know that.”

It was a test hidden behind poisonously pleasant words.

Will you be telling me the truth? Are you foolish enough to lie?

A question the hero didn’t want to answer, but there were limited options.

Placate, placate, placate.

“It’s my final assignment.” The hero clenched their fists, nails digging into skin, forcing upon them clarity to think, a reminder not to stutter, not to feel. “Going civilian, for my safety.”

“Oh?” The villain’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second. “Do tell. What was so dangerous that your little agency felt the need to give you an identity change?

Another test.

“It was noted that the others–other–other villains,” The hero forced themselves to take a breath in, and clenched their fists even harder. “were targeting me, thinking it would hurt you.”

“Mm.” The villain cocked their head to the side, looking at the hero in an indecipherable way.

Disappointment? Amusement? Hunger?

The hero was never able to tell.

“Well. I can admit my faults, but this is an easy fix, my darling. I’ll handle the others. Now, the car’s been running just a bit too long, so if we could?”

The villain stood, still holding the hero’s cat.

“I can’t.” The hero’s fists unclenched, wondering if their cat could be swayed to jump from the villain’s arms. “I signed a contract. If I re-emerge, I could be considered an active threat, measures would be taken against me, um, I can’t.”

The villain smiled. “Now that is a bigger problem, but I could garner a few solutions. Come along, we can even bring…” They trailed off, looking at the cat’s name tag. “Chestnut.”

“I’ll become a public enemy. I don’t own the name Hero, I just use it, I–”

“And that’s the very problem, isn’t it?” The villain let Chestnut jump from their arms, watching the hero’s shoulders relax ever so slightly. “This day and age of heroics and villainy, it’s all very theatrical. We used to do this because of values, morals, plans for world domination.”

They gave the hero a once over.

“The other heroes are good at the limelight, thrive, even, it’s the whole reason they sign the contracts and take the name, but they can’t beat you in character, and the numbers of casualties in their fights versus yours speaks volumes. You weren’t good at the attention, not until I got to you, at least.”

“And I thank you for the help, but I’m done with the cameras, interviews, the saving people.”

“What a shame. You used to talk about being a symbol, about helping people, a hero through and through, not any of that pretending you’re a movie star. It’s what makes you…”

“Malleable?”

“I was going to say unique. No need for the dramatics.”

When the hero didn’t respond, didn’t move, didn’t even look like they were breathing, the villain’s polite mask dropped.

The hero hated that, how easily the villain could switch around their personality. They also hated the villain’s unblinking eyes.

The villain could blink, the hero was sure, but whenever it was just the two of them, the villain always made sure to be constantly watching.

“As I said, I can think of a few solutions to your problems.” They held out an expectant hand. “Shall we?”

“You were using me.” The hero blurted out. “You weren’t trying to help me be better, you were–you were–”

“I was what?”

“Making me into a tool. You would have turned me into a monster.”

The villain scoffed. “A monster? Please. You would have been beloved by the world, no contract or agency could hold you, you would have been second to none.”

“Except you.” The hero noticed that Chestnut was curling around the villain’s legs, slowly realizing that their best option at this point might have been to turn heel. “I would have been second to none except you.”

The villain smiled again, though it looked more like an animal bearing their teeth in annoyance.

“Eventually not. Once we’ve finished with the others, all the theatrics and the celebrity treatment, we could begin the real work. We could be equals, my darling.”

“You were manipulating me so that you could have the perfect opponent?” The hero felt bile rise in their throat.

There was evidence of the villain using them, solid proof shown directly after that scolding from the agency for allowing a villain to mentor them, but to hear it from the villain themselves was something else entirely.

“Twist my words in whatever way you’ll have. We both win. You won’t have to worry about the performance of being a hero, you can simply go out and save the day how you like. Tell me it’s not tempting. Now, it has been a treat tracking you down, my darling, they hid you well, but I must insist we leave. There’s a long drive ahead of us.”

“No.”

Chestnut had wandered closer to the hero.

“Ah, would you prefer we fly? It’s not my favorite, but–”

“I’m not going with you.” They reached down slowly, picking up Chestnut, hoping to make it look as though they were holding her for comfort.

The villain watched, their jaw clenched, anger barely concealed.

“I made you.” They seethed through an unusually quiet voice. “And if I have to, I will break you, and build you up again.”

The hero took a step back. “Find another hero to manipulate.”

With a deep breath, the villain collected themselves, never breaking eye contact with the hero.

“You know, part of the plan was to make you fall in love with me.” They admitted, taking only a step forward to match the hero’s step back. “Or at least have you grow fond enough of me that you wouldn’t betray me so easily. But obviously, it didn’t work. Lucky for the both of us, I can work with fear. You have an abundance of that, don’t you?”

The hero turned heel.

There was no placating a villain.

#villain #hero x villain #hero #heroine #snippet #villain x hero #heroes and villains #villainess #writing #heroes #possessive villain #villains #writing snippet #hero writes #villain writes #there is a corner upon which I sit and sometimes there are others there #sometimes they are with me but sometimes I am with Them #it feels so short when they are on the corner with me #and I wonder if it feels so short when I am on the corner with them #I’ve looked back to their corners with no more spots for me #but there will always be a spot for them at mine corner #and that is my own fault #bum bum bum bum bum bum bum bum bum bum bum bum #Mr sandman #that is a hint on what the next post will be about #I ate so much sushi so much sushi I need more though idk I think it’s a real issue at this point #sushi addiction is probably a thing but I’m scared to look at addiction stats of sushi consumption bc ik I’ll fall into the lower category #and remember kids drugs are bad #but so is too much sushi #pick your battles

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maxdurden · 4 months

Text

but slowly the instinct takes root in her throat

read it on ao3 here!

Story: but slowly the instinct takes root in her throat

Chapter: 1/1

Characters: Kipperlilly Copperkettle, Ruben Hopclap, Porter Cliffbreaker, Jace Stardiamond, (mentions of other Rat Grinders)

Summary:

Kipperlilly has been chosen by a nascent god of rage. She's proud of that fact, excited by what it might mean for her future. In the meantime, she's stuck on night watch during her sophomore spring break with Ruben Hopclap, her least favorite party member. She's been told to worship her rage, to accept it in all its savage glory. What could go wrong? -- A one-shot about my head canons for how the Rat Grinders' first quest to the Mountains of Chaos went down.

“It’s cold out here.”

The knife in Kipperlilly’s hand stuttered over a knot in the stick she was carving into a stake. Her motions were harsh and confident, but not well practiced. Woodcarving wasn’t a hobby of hers, but she would have done just about anything to dull the boredom in this moment—and to distract her from the incessant whining of her companion.

That she was being asked to keep watch at all was an insult. The thought sat under her skin like molten metal, but she pushed it away. Not only had she been chosen, she’d risen to the challenge. She could feel the symbol under the stiff, pressed fabric of her shirt, and the memory of the ritual was still fresh in her mind. Jace’s magic, the glittering red shatter star, the oath she had sworn to the god of rage.

Jace had continually checked his notes as he administered the oath, and Porter had seethed at the indignity. “Maybe I’d remember this better if I’d had the chance to undergo it myself.” The sorcery teacher was cool and unbothered around most of his students, but Kipperlilly had come to know him as a perpetually exasperated presence in her life. “But, no, it wasn’t this easy for me.” He said as he traced a slender finger down the page of his notebook.

“An eye for opportunity is well rewarded.” Kipperlilly had chirped unhelpfully. She smiled smugly in the direction of the barbarian teacher who, in an official capacity, was not meant to be attached to this quest at all. Even the rest of her party didn’t know he was here with them in the Mountains of Chaos. But he had revealed himself to her for this ritual, because she was his chosen, because he trusted her—

“It’s cold and boring. And doesn’t it freak you out that things are so dangerous here that we need a nightwatch?” The drone of Ruben Hopclap’s incessant complaints pulled Kipperlilly back to the present moment.

The stick in her hand snapped under the pressure of her knife. It was no real loss. She didn’t need a stake, just a distraction. She needed Ruben to shut up.

“It’s the Mountains of Chaos.” She responded curtly. “Of course it’s dangerous.”

“I heard Yolen Harris’ party is going to Harroway Bay to fight a sea serpent or something.” As he spoke, Kipperlilly grabbed a new stick to resume her carving. Something about the steady motion helped to ground her, and she needed that more now than ever. “I bet the serpent won’t be fun, but think about it: Toes in the sand and crystal service! Now that’s a decent spring break.”

Kipperlilly watched as the wood parted from itself in thin, curling layers and grit her teeth. “It’s also a monumental waste of time. People kill sea serpents all the time. No one’s gonna remember that quest in a month.”

She shouldn’t humor him with responses. Of all the people in her party, Ruben was the most indolent. Not that he lacked ambition; He envied Figueroth Faeth in all her stardom. He just didn’t have the actual follow through to do anything about it. It made Kipperlilly sick, and it was the lesser of the two things she hated most about him.

Kipperlilly was proud to say that Lucy Frostblade was her best friend. But, since they had met Ruben in middle school, she’d suffered the slight of having to share the claim to being Lucy’s.

“Who cares!” Ruben whined. He was always whining. She found herself wishing the high-pitched frequency of his voice would drive a nearby pack of wolves into a slavering bloodlust and they would come here to rend him limb from limb. As she turned the stick in her hand, and notched her knife into it once again, she imagined the violent scene in great detail. It brought her some solace. “I’m cold! I’d rather be at the beach! Who’s gonna remember us for coming to this empty, useless temple and looking for a dumb name, anyway? Even if we find it.”

He didn’t know the plan. He didn’t know they would change the world someday. That they’d create their own god, raise him from his mortality. That they would carve Elmville from its stubborn mundanity and reform it in the image of something worthy. They would be greater than the Bad Kids, or any adventurer who had ever graduated from Aguefort. Many alumni of the school had saved the world, but none of them had ever remade it.

“You’re probably cold because you dressed for the beach. Like an idiot.” She snapped, pointing with her knife toward his sandaled feet.

“Dress for the job you want!”

Kipperlilly felt hot, buzzing rage rising in her throat. It was a familiar feeling, like boiling water overcoming all her senses.

Her grandmother had once tried to endear her to her family legacy. She’d taken her to the kitchen, and showed her the Copperkettle, the magical item from which her family got their name. Most halfling families got their names this way, from heirlooms that often harkened back to a time before they came to Elmville. The Copperkettle was barely magical.

Newly immigrated to Elmville, the family had struggled to make ends meet, and the Copperkettle had kept them fed anyway, against all odds. This was the only version of the story worth telling, but her grandmother had embellished it with all kinds of details—the names of her ancestors, what kinds of stew the kettle had produced, the tale of their eventual agreement to share the stew. The story dragged on until there was nothing but a frustrating buzz in the back of Kipperlilly’s young head where the anger rose to meet it. She didn’t want to be standing in her kitchen, listening to a lecture about the history of the most boring family in Elmville—She didn’t want to be reminded that she was a part of that family.

She tried to sit still and quiet, to listen politely like her parents had taught her, but the anger ballooned inside her until it was too big for her tiny body to contain. She had felt near tears with it by the time she admitted it to herself, and acted on it. In her anger, she had scurried forward and kicked her grandmother’s knee—anything to get her to shut up.

She remembered being dragged away by her parents. They had sat her on the cold cement porch stairs outside their family home, wagged disapproving fingers in her face. And she’d known then that they were right—or thought that they were. Anger was something to ignore, to push down and suffocate.

Gods forbid it have the ability to suffocate back.

That night, with Ruben seemingly incapable of shutting his mouth, the same anger was starting to expand hot and fast in her chest. Her anger was always vicious and strong, oftentimes stronger than her, but there was something new this time too.

With the feeling, the symbol on her chest burned steadily. For a moment it was a grounding feeling. She could honor this anger, just like Porter had taught her. She could feel it and savor it—The way her face burned and the way her focus on the world sharpened until there was nothing but Ruben’s voice, and the knife, and the wood.

“And this job sucks. Even if it was memorable, we’ll always be remembered as the dumb kids who needed a chaperone on our sophomore project.” Ruben filled the silence when Kipperlilly didn’t respond.

Her stick snapped again, but this time in the tightening grip of her hand rather than under the pressure of her knife.

“And the solution to that is to resign ourselves to a lazy beach week?” She let the words claw their way from her throat, and seep through clenched teeth.

Her hand held tight to the pommel of her knife. Without the grounding repetition of sliding it along the wood, she started to think of other things she could do with it. She thought of nothing but wolves, and blood, and the heat of rage that clung to her every breath.

Ruben’s sniveling answer fell on deaf ears. She wanted nothing more than silence. She wanted peace. She wanted to not have to endure his weakness and whining.

The first plunge of the knife came without thought. It was a mindless thing that drove her to stand, approach and attack. It all happened in the flash of prickling anger that overtook her senses and mind. But the scream that came with it pulled her back to reality, made her angrier.

Kipperlilly was often angry. She had felt the urge to destroy—to tear the world apart, ruin her friends’ moods, to see things burn because of the fire in her stomach and on her tongue. But she had always felt remorse, too. That destruction, the harsh words, the cruel actions had always stopped her before—she always ended up just the same as that kid on the porch stairs, crying as her parents wagged their fingers in her face.

But not this time. This time, she relished in the anger. She did just as she was told. She let it consume her. It was like falling away from herself and being more present than ever all at once. She viscerally felt the skin and muscle part under her knife, felt as the blade scraped and stuck into ribs. She heard every scream, felt Ruben’s hand clawing at the sleeve of her pristine, white blouse. She saw the terror in his eyes fade into glassy, distant nothingness.

But the whole time she was wrapped in the resplendent ecstasy of wrath. It kept her distant and safe. It kept the fire in her belly roaring and hungry for more. It smoothed over the edges. It distracted her from the way her hand slipped on the blood slicked grip of her knife and the way the blade cut into the flesh of her own palm. It held her anxieties about being heard and her guilt at a distance.

She sat back from the unmoving corpse underneath her, and stared at the shredded chest of a boy she’d known since middle school. With shaking hands, she set her knife down beside them, in the fast collecting pool of blood. There was a fist-sized bloodstain on her blouse where Ruben had clung to her, but he’d long since lost the strength for that. Her sweater vest was ruined. Warm, tacky blood adhered her tights to her knees. Everything smelled so strongly like blood that she could taste iron on her tongue.

And then there were Ruben’s dark eyes, staring, staring, staring, and seeing nothing.

Kipperlilly lurched to the side and retched, but nothing came up. The weight of what she’d done settled on her like the sky falling. Tears blurred her vision, and she was grateful because she didn’t want to see. Whether they were tears of contrition or self pity, she couldn’t say.

Somewhere nearby her party was asleep, if they hadn’t already been awoken by the screams. Sometime soon, they would see what she’d done—or otherwise notice Ruben’s absence. And Lucy. What would Lucy think? How would she ever look at her again?

Sitting there over the dead body, for maybe the first time in her life, Kipperlilly couldn’t think of a plan. She could think only one thing: Porter.

She’d done what he’d said. She’d given into her rage. He had to help her fix this. He was the only one who would understand—even if he couldn’t have possibly foreseen that it would come to this.

She tried to stand and her polished bar shoes slipped in the blood, sending her tumbling downwards and face to blank, pallid face with the corpse. It was washed in the sickly green light of distant beacon fires, which only made the quickly paling skin look worse. She couldn’t leave it here. This time, she knew the thought was one of self-preservation.

Pulling herself to her feet, Kipperlilly carefully sheathed her bloody knife. Then, she gathered the body in her arms, and pulled it up the stone stairs into the temple. She slinked through the shadows, past the alcove where the rest of her party slept. It was some distance away and, by then, her arms ached under the weight but she hoped that the distance meant there had been no disturbance here. The rock face that made up the temple echoed with every sound, but things were quiet. There was no sound of confusion, or people rushing to arms.

She kept moving, past towering statues of proud warriors and their flaming horses, past the walls scrawled with words of prayer, until she reached the chamber where she knew Porter was staying. His presence was still unknown to the rest of the party and, at least as recently as the ritual, he wanted to keep it that way. This place, deep within the temple, was cavernous and massive. It was the place she had undergone her ritual earlier in the day but now, returning to it, she felt so far from the victorious spirit she’d clung to then.

She stopped once inside, letting the corpse slump to the ground far from the giant altar at the other end of the chamber in front of which a bedroll was laid out. Porter wasn’t sleeping, though, he was standing on one of the staggered platforms, facing the iron brazier that dominated the center of the altar.

Words failed Kipperlilly. She stood over the body and stared across the wide space between herself and the barbarian teacher—the soon-to-be god—who she’d worked so hard to impress, and couldn’t bring herself to speak. He had put so much faith in her, and surely this would be a grave disappointment. But in her panic, she didn't know where else to go.

“Kipperlilly?” He turned before she had to say anything at all, those dark eyes widening in shock. It must have been quite the sight. She was usually so well put together, but now she was disheveled and blood splattered. Not to mention the corpse at her feet. “What in the world have you done?”

“I—I didn’t mean to.” Now that she had found them again, words came tumbling out of her without her control. “He made me so mad. You said to lean into the anger! I pledged myself to it! It was supposed to be—You said it’d be holy, that it would be sacred, but I—” She got stuck on this word, stuttering it out too many times before the sentence died altogether in her throat. She couldn’t say it.

She’d killed him.

Porter jumped from the platform in one fluid motion and strode toward her. His features were pinched with a deep concern, but he didn’t seem panicked. Some small part of Kipperlilly wished that he did—maybe so she wouldn’t be alone with the suffocating feeling, or maybe because she thought it’d make her feel less small.

“Why didn’t you bring him to Lucy? She has diamonds, doesn’t she?” He demanded first, coming to stand in front of her and the corpse. She had to angle her face up to see him, always, but now she looked elsewhere. Anywhere but at him or the bloody mess at her feet. Her eyes fixed on the pictographs of war lining the temple walls.

The thought of bringing the mangled body to Lucy made her throat close up. She thought of her gentle friend. She tried to imagine the way hate would contort her features but, for all the awful things she had done, all the ways she had failed Lucy in the past, she had no frame of reference. She knew that even now she was avoiding the full reality of what she’d done. Facing Lucy would mean facing this, and she couldn’t do either.

“I can’t…”

Slowly, Porter nodded, “You’re right. She’d never forgive you.” He admitted callously. “None of them would ever look at you the same way again.”

There was a pause. Wind whistled through the colossal, empty stone halls. “You were right to bring this to me.”

She was right. No one else would understand. She sniffled, trying to pull herself together. “There has to be something—” Something that didn’t involve a cleric. “Professor Stardiamond could summon something.” Just like their training in the woods. All the appearance of danger with none of its teeth.

“How would a monster have gotten here?” Porter asked, shaking his head. “No, that’s sloppy. You can do better.” He pressed. Then, “You wanted Ruben dead, didn’t you?”

“No,” Kipperlilly said with so much conviction that she surprised even herself. She angled her face up to see the disbelieving expression looming over her. She allowed herself a glimmer of self-reflection, just a moment of honesty, to decipher her own meaning. “I wanted to kill him,” she admitted, “But I didn’t want him dead.”

“Those are the same thing.”

They weren’t. Kipperlilly struggled against the fog of panic and misery in her head, trying to piece the words together. She had wanted the violence. She had relished sticking a knife between his ribs, but the consequences of those actions weren’t welcome. She hadn’t thought about them before they were real. But Porter was right; How could she have been so stupid?

“I might be able to help.” Porter turned his eyes toward the still body between them. “But this wasn’t the plan. You were the one who agreed to the ritual. You were supposed to be my chosen.” He ground out the words in frustration.

“What?”

Some selfish dark thing seized in Kipperlilly’s gut. She remembered how she had felt special during the ritual. She had known that she would be relied upon. She would be great, with her name raised above the rest, when it came time for Porter to ascend. Despite the dead boy at her feet, she didn’t want to let that go.

“The others will know something has happened, but they’ve already made their choice. That’ll need to be fixed.”

“Fixed?”

“Go get Stardiamond.” Porter said, tone dismissive. “Bring him here and we’ll catch him up on the plan.”

“What do you mean fixed?” Kipperlilly had not asked for much. She obeyed dutifully. She paid her dues. She would follow Porter through the nine hells if it meant she got her shot at greatness; If she could be a legendary adventurer; If she could be better than the fucking Bad Kids. But, this once, she demanded an answer.

“Even if we bring Ruben back, they’ll see you as a monster. We’ve got to get them on our side.” As if from nowhere, he produced a shatter star. It bathed the chamber in a low, pulsing red light, shifting as he examined it. It tore itself apart into fractal pieces and slammed back into itself.

“How? They already made their choice.”

Some more than others. Oisin, under the right circumstances, might have been convinced. He had a legacy to live up to; He understood ambition. Porter had talked about not giving up, about continuing to evangelize about rage, and the unnamed goddess. The others were never to know about Porter’s plan to ascend. But, they could be won over with stories about a plan to resurrect a dead goddess, with the promises of the glory that that would bring. But, these weren’t the right circumstances.

“We would have had time to change their minds.” Porter’s words were harsh, but grounding. It was Kipperlilly’s loss of control that had brought them here. Even if she couldn’t own up to the rest of it, she had to own up to that. “But there are other ways. Watch.” He instructed, and stepped forward to kneel over the corpse.

The shatter star leapt forward from his hand, burrowing into the mutilated flesh in front of them. The forward motion was violent and eager, and the corpse thrashed disturbingly like a rag doll limp in the mouth of a vicious dog. Kipperlilly watched with wide eyes as blood splattered upward onto her already ruined clothes.

The motion stopped and, for a fleeting moment and eerie peace settled on the room. Kipperlilly looked up, half panicked, to see the way Porter’s steady, focused eyes were fixed on the body between them. Before she could demand to know what was happening, a rasping breath shattered the silence and Ruben came flying upwards, sitting ramrod straight.

An animalistic growl issued from somewhere deep in his chest. Kipperlilly stared—in horror or in awe she didn’t know—as Ruben’s wits returned to him and he turned on her with a murderous glare.

“You fucking killed me!” He roared, launching toward her with a ferocious speed. She stumbled backwards in surprise, still not having fully processed that he was alive, and fumbled for her knife.

Ruben’s hands were outstretched, his face contorted into a mask of animus and hostility. He was inches away from tackling her when he suddenly froze. He shook his head, and was left blinking in dazed confusion.

“We’ll have none of that.” Porter spoke, standing from where he’d been kneeling at eye level. “If you need to fight it out, let’s do it when there isn’t already a monumental mess to clean up.” He grumbled.

Ruben looked down at his bloody clothes, then back between Porter and Kipperlilly. “You killed me so I’d have to worship your stupid rage god?” His anger seemed more directionless, now, and that must have been just as well to Porter, who shrugged.

“You’d have to ask Kipperlilly why she killed you. My god and I just brought you back.” Porter brushed a speck of blood off his hands and onto his pants like it was a meer inconvenience, and added, “You’re welcome.”

“You’ll have to kill the rest of them?” Kipperlilly was slowly piecing it together.

Panic kicked at the inside of her ribcage. A tidal wave of thoughts came crashing down on her. This was her fault. Everyone could have had more time. She could have convinced them all eventually, the right way. But she had fucked it up. She had forced Porter’s hand. Ruben had chosen to worship rage rather than die. Everyone else would have to as well. But Lucy would never.

Lucy would never.

“Lucy’s stocked for revivify.” She blurted out, the words leaving her before she’d had time to process. “If she’s here while you’re killing the others—She can’t be here while you’re killing the others.”

She could feel Ruben’s glare boring a hole in the side of her head, but she kept her eyes fixed on Porter. She would follow him through the nine hells. She would convince her friends to worship rage. She would kill them all, or let them die, if she must. But not Lucy.

Lucy wouldn’t come back. Kipperlilly needed more time. She would have had it, if not for her own miserable wrath.

Porter seemed to consider her words. “Get Stardiamond, tell him to bring the others to me. You keep Lucy busy. Tell her you don’t know where Ruben is, make her heal that cut on your hand. I don’t care, just handle it. You’ve made enough of a mess.”

Relief rushed over her, and Kipperlilly nodded, ever the dutiful soldier. “Right, of course.” Her eyes flickered briefly over to where Ruben’s burned into her like hot coals before she turned to carry out her marching orders.

As she backtracked through the empty, echoing halls of the temple, she recalled slights against her and held them close to her chest like kindling for a fire. The way Oisin and Ivy would whisper behind their hands and snicker at her; Mary Ann’s brutal dismissal when she tried to bond with her; the betrayal of everyone when they changed their party name. The Rat Grinders could die. It was a price she was more than willing to pay for her own chance at greatness. It was easier to take ownership of it all. To foster the anger inside and pretend that this was how she wanted things to go, rather than admit to losing control. The symbol of an unnamed god burned quietly against her chest.

#kipperlilly copperkettle #the rat grinders #i don't trust y'all enough to put this in the general tag i won't even lie #fhjy spoilers #figs writes #i haven't published writing in... checks watch... over a year?? lol #anyway!!! here have a treat. porter's such a fucking manipulative ass #when i GET my hands on that man...#it's sooo over for him #kipperlilly is like #fucked up too yeah sure but i love my girl free my girl #just girly things (we've all wanted to kill our sapphic crush's best friend)#ruben hopclap #sorry to the ruben stans i love him but. he's taking lucy's attention away from klck #and really. that's a capital offense what can i say

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phant0msworld · 6 months

Text

Infuriating

Minors do not interact

Notes:Hello :) This is my second short Story English is not my first language , I hope you will enjoy this story

He hates to be nervous around you,and you exploit it for your own fun.

He acts like he hates how you flirt with him,and how you tease him,but he loves it secretly.

But you think it’s funny,always coming up with a new way to annoy him.

But then there’s this glimmer in your eyes when you see him getting annoyed,he’s see the way you glance at him from time to.

When he looks back with a raised brow and the toothpick in his mouth, he sees how quickly your head is turning and how the tip of your ears turn slightly red.

He won’t deny Thant he is attracted,to you quite the opposite.

His attraction started the first time you met.

He meet you on a mission they were one with the 501st, as the doctor of the battalion you were introduced to him and his brothers.

He found it quite endearing on how bubbly you were, and how everyone seems to like you.

Getting hurt on said mission was not on his plan,but he didn’t complain after getting in your care.

As he sat on your examining bead, and you were on your chair looking up at him with your big doe eyes to patch his face up,he couldn’t help his thoughts wandere.

First his attraction was only physical, but it soon started to turn into more than that after you were send on a few missions with them.Soon you were placed permanently with the squad.

At the start you were rather shy, but after some time you warmed up to them.

He could see that you always had a sly answer to his sarcastic remarks, wich only attracted him more to you.

He could feel himself falling for you,trying to ignore these feelings at first didn’t work, and when you protected him from an animal with all your power cause he was hurt. He was a goner for sure, he needed you not only your body but also your heart,your soul and your mind.

So now here were the two of you,both having feelings for one another but nobody ever saying it out loud, afraid of losing your friendship you build over weeks.

“How about we go to 79’s we’re on leave and I think having a little fun is no harm.”says Hunter and he sees how your eyes light up.

“That would be great,Hunter maybe some of the troopers from 501st are there.”

He rolls his eyes as he hears you mention your old teammates.

“What’s the problem Crossy, afraid some “rag” will steal e from you.”

The way you say this makes him, angry if he could he would shut you up right now right there.

“Why would I care who you kriff,non of my business, it’s not like you’re a virgin,but if you do it with a reg at least get a commander.”

He says this while looking at you from the side, he saw how your eyes widened, and how your ears turned a bit red as he mentioned kriffing.

You look away a bit ashamed, no it couldn’t be he thinks.

Surly you aren’t a virgin, you’re kriffing gorgeous.

He can feel himself getting turned on about the thought of being your first.

You say nothing after that for a long time and that is the only answer he needs on his question.

“Guys, you can go with out me, I will meet you there. But I will have to got to my apartment first,I hope this isn’t a problem.I can’t be in a bar looking like this.”

You say this while moving your hand to symbolize the dirt on you.

He know you don’t like showering on the ship, you only do it when necessary,and before you go in you inform everyone personally that you’re now taking a shower.

“Yeah no problem (reader) we will just meet there.” Says Hunter with a warm smile to you, does he also likes you he thinks to himself, while looking between the two of you.

Waiting for you was an agonizing,he still was one his first drink of the night and siting by the table he and his brothers were occupying.

Wrecker challenged some new regs to a drinking game, tech was on his datapad and Hunter sat beside him looking in to the crowd while sipping on his second drink.

As he looked at the door he could see you entering, you were wearing a short black dress wich only went to the mid of your thighs .

Your hair was down and curled, on sour feet were dark red heels, and on your ears were little silver hoops wich were complimented with the silver necklace and silver bracelet.

He was so lost in you that he didn’t register that you were coming in his direction, well not his precisely but rather the direction of his brothers and him.

But before you could reach them a clone approached you,the reg was directly in his sight of you.You looked behind the reg and pointed at them, he could read your pretty lips wich were telling the reg that you with you’re squad here.

Watching as your pretty legs finally made their way to him, he couldn’t help but wonder what might be lying underneath that dress of yours.

`Hi guys, sorry I’m a bit late.`you said while taking a strand of hair behind your ear wich fell in your face. This motion alone was able to making him want to kiss you.

`no worry’s (reader),got get yourself a drink, before wrecker decides he wants to out drink you too.`said hunter.

Watching as you make your way to the bar, he had perfect view of your backside,he certainly couldn’t complain about what he saw.Crossahir knew you had a good figure but that little dress you were wearing makes it more obvious.

His eyes were constantly on you, he could see a reg approaching you again, he taped you on your shoulder, when you turned around he saw how your face instantly turns into one of your beautiful smiles.

But what ticked Crosshair of, was how you pulled the reg into a hug, again you pointed at them and the reg turned around.

But it wasn’t just any reg, it was Rex.

He felt a bit better now but seeing how his arm was around your waist and how he held your dring for you, bothered him nonetheless.

Making your way over with Rex was something wich also catches attention of his brothers, he flicked his toothpick from one to the other side in his mother’s when you and Rex arrived.

`hey guys its been a while, how are you all doing.`Rex asks while sitting down with you at their table.

Everyone gives their answer, Rex and hunter fall into a bit of small talk.

Sitting beside you, crosshair notices that you dress has been rising up, a bit more and he could see what you were wearing beneath.

This thought alone made him choke a bit on his drink,with now the attention on him, you quickly reacted and were knocking on his back with you hand to help him.

Since he was hunched over, and you were bent over him a bit, he was able to have a little look down your neckline.

You were wearing black, that much he could see maybe a matching set, oh what he would give to see you underneath him in your underwear.

After his coughing had stoped and you were finished with your drink, Rex asked if you would like to dance a bit.

Of course you had to say yes.

It was infuriating to see you dance with another man, when he should be the one to do so.

`you know if it bothers you so much, why don’t you just take over.` says hunter while looking at him.

` I don’t know what you mean.`Crosshair answers with an annoyed look.

`oh don’t give me that look i know Thant you like her, infact we all know.

Oh and i know that she also likes you believe me.`

` Ok maybe i like her a bit, but she would never have something serious with a clone let alone something with a clone like me.` he said while looking longingly at your dancing form.

`I heard her,one night while she was you know what doing, she said you name just to let you know.`said hunter while looking at him with suggestive eyes.

When he heard that he could feel himself Harding, taking a deep breath he stood up and made his way over to you.

`from here on I will Handel her.`Crosshair said this while never breaking eye contact with you and ignoring Rex.

Without saying a word Rex made its way to the squad and watched from a far.

`Handel me huh, I don’t think you could.`he could see the glimmer in your eyes while looking in his eyes.

`No doll I don’t think you could handle me,` no leaning down to whisper in your ear he says,`I know your a virgin, i saw the way you reacted,and I also know that you said my name while touching yourself.`

He could feel yo tense up, now he was the one wearing a smirk,your big round eyes were looking at him with a mixture of schock and embarrassment.

You wanted to go, escape the humiliation, but he got hold of your arm.

He press you against him, so that you were captured in his arms.

`no need to run doll,I don’t mind quiet the opposite.I thought of you too, I must admit at first it was only because your pretty women. But after a while it turned into something more.I didn’t want to admit it a first but it was undeniably,i have feelings for you.And I don’t judge you if you don’t want to be with me, but you can’t deny that there is something between us.So please don’t go cause i need you, not only your body,but your heart and soul to, you already have mine.`

You turned around in his arm and looked at him with big eyes, it happened so quickly he didn’t register it at first.But you kissed him, it felt heavenly.

Soft lips met rough lips

Notes:I hope you liked this story, I would appreciate feedback and I’m also thinking about writing a second part if you are interested let me know.

You can read the second part here: Captured in your lips

#tbb x reader #tbb hunter #tbb crosshair #tbb #star wars #tbb crosshair x reader #captain rex #tbb wrecker #79s clone bar #tbb tech

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tae-rambles · 2 months

Note

Well, the ship looks like Elbaf-made (and now that we know how connected to the giants Shanks and his crew are, I think it really IS). And we now know that the giants are really pro-Nika, like that’s THEIR deity (if I remember correctly). So it is also possible that it’s part of their aesthetics and Shanks decided to leave it to not offend them and/or blend in.

Personally tho I HATE the evil!Shanks theory. I love Shanks and turn into putty when reading those parental!Shanks-Luffy fics T.T (also, I’ve always admired his non-confrontational/pacifist ideals).

But that smile in that episode looked somewhere between sleazy and unhinged to me. Idk if it was the animation style, but I think I got similar vibes from the manga too. Idk. But his expression when Kid was attacking and killing his subordinates felt genuine? So maybe he just doesn’t like how handsy they were being. REALLY don’t know. The scene made me smile tho, because this man is so loved! And his subordinates have zero fear. And unlike the other Emperors, he doesn’t do the whole tribute thing at all. There’s also the fact that he seems to be the only pirate that is hella respected on BOTH sides of the law.

Sorry for the rant. I reallly love Shanks :3 (AHHHH I don’t want him to be evil either ;-;)

hmmm... i wouldn't say the Red Force is Elbaf-made... it might look like it at first since it's one of the most realistic-looking ships in One Piece with quite a simple figurehead and Elbaf giants also use realistic-looking Viking longships with a simple figurehead and you could say the swirl markings and their placement on the Red Force are similar to the swirl markings on the ship Dorry and Broggy took to Egghead but that's just that, they are similar, not the same. the ship types are also different. Elbaf giants use longships while the Red Force is a galleon (or looks like it, i'm not an expert and One Piece ships aren't exactly realistic). also, Red Hai Pirates had a similar looking ship but smaller, less detailed and without the sun symbol (a barque, i'd say) but with a very similar figurehead in ch 1 which was before they even went to the New World. and last but not least, none of the Elbaf ships seen so far have the sun symbol on them. so i wouldn't jump to the conclusion that the Red Force was built by the Elbaf giants. i'm not ruling the idea out, it's just there is no airtight evidence to prove it to be correct.

about Shanks' smile ep 1112, i never thought of it as sleazy? more like a combination of mischievous amusement, fluster and drunkenness. those expressions are also anime only and i only accept the manga as canon. and those are these in ch 1079:

you can't really blame him for not being completely happy about being suddenly jumped on

after that he jokes about how his fleet is notoriously weak (btw the fact that his fleet is notoriously week yet still surviving in the New World is a testament to how strong Shanks and the Red Hair Pirates are that they can afford to take weaklings under their wings and yet no one dares to mess with them) etc. but we can't see his expression.

he is mostly calm/neutral discussing Kid and Blackbeard with his crew. but then he gets the vision.

he instantly switches to serious and stressed (you can see him sweating). Shanks just had a vision of those he swore to protect being torn apart in his name and we know how he feels about ppl hurting his friends since ch 1:

no mercy

so yeah, i do believe he genuinely cares about his people and the care is obviously mutual (it warms my heart :D)

#one piece #one piece analysis #shanks #egghead arc #tae rambles

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demvalhaken · 2 months

Text

I want coffee. (Art for you :D

*Insert funny thing here to keep your attention and hypnotise you into ignoring the anatomy*

THE COLOUR PALETTE ATE AND LEFT NO CRUMBS!!!

Okay everything past this point is literally just me talking about this shit

Greed demons originally had green eyes and not yellow ones. Idk but the yellow colour slays girl! It left no crumbs and cleaned the entire table! Butttttt…. There’s a sub-ring (Ring inside a ring) in the Greed Ring… LET ME COOK FOR A SECOND.

The Sub-Ring is basically just the Land of Gold as seen in Dante’s Inferno (Which inspires some rings). It’s a giant lake in the ring that has its own kind of ecosystem and society and stuff… So what if I just keep the green eyes and say “FUCK IT SHES PART GOLD THING!” Actually I think I’ll do that-

Let me just say, all marking on Greed demons are just poker symbols and stuff like that. Their tail tips will probably stay consistently either diamonds or hearts. Do you wanna know why Ace is named Ace? ACE OF SPADES BABYYYYYYY!!! Her lore is basically, you get born with luck curse, use it to win hundreds of casino winnings, get rich, get banned, get sad, be overprotective with sister. It’s been like that since 2023, don’t judge.

The rings of Hell aren’t really fully developed yet, they’re pretty underdeveloped like Limbo… I ignore that poor ring so much because I honestly don’t care about it. Plus I need to figure out sinners, AND I NEED A PROPER DESIGN FOR LUCIFER, SATAN, BEELZEBUB, MAMMON, ASMODEUS, LEVIATHAN, AND BELPHEGOR!!! AGHHHHHH!!! I’m literally just gonna make Satan fatherly goat man because that’s how he seems tbh

I HAVE SO MUCH TO DEVELOP AND ITS LITERALLY BEEN A YEAR OR TWO SINCE THIS STARTED!!! Also I literally don’t know which sin to draw first

Me talking for two paragraphs because I’m deranged :D

Is it just me or am I kinda dreading school, how am I gonna post frequently?! At least everyone sees me as a chill background character, so I probably won’t be bullied. Maybe I might be bullied for my outrageous body hair as a woman, idk I’ve never shaved except once like two years ago and I absolutely fucking hated it.

Completely unrelated rambles: you could probably tell but I am an avid fan of Vivzie’s works. Verosika deserved better tbh, she’s like my favourite character, go girl!!! I might sound crazy, but she’s not really a villain for me. Also people are getting mad at Vivzie’s tribute in the new Weird Al vid? I mean, I understand the hate… but I FIND IT FUCKING HILARIOUS THAT IT’S LITERALLY THE ALASTOR BASE MEME. I sound delusional, that’s fine I guess.

Oh yeah, here’s Ace’s original atrocious design. She ain’t got no lips and she got a receding hairline! Devious ahh smile 😭

Edit: WEVE OFFICIALLY REACHED 80 POSTS, LETS GO. I guess?

Edit 2: Dem fell off… fell off a cliff!!! Please don’t bully Dem

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cringengl · 7 months

Note

Hey!! It's the byler music fairy!! What are the songs you most associate with byler, Will, and/or Mike, and why??

(sorry for the lack of emojis... your askbox wouldn't let me add them D:)

aaaaahhhhh I have a couple of these haha

for byler, my fave songs for them i have is fly out west by yot club, which is literally s4 byler. like mike literally flies out west at the start of s4?? lmao. there's also lyrics like

Well, tell me, do you know?

You're all I dream about

Take it from me, I'm too dumb to recognize your doubt

Well, I don't wanna go

I'm in too far to leave

Tell me how you live so easily, young and naive

and

Talk bad, who's that?

Walk back to your place

I think you fake that smile that's on your face

which could honestly apply to both will and mike, one being all the other dreams about and being jealous about how naive they are, and also both of them faking their smiles, mike because of his failing relationship with el and will pretending to be ok with it.

ok so for the second one is true blue by boygenius, and although the title screams will as the chorus says that the love is 'true blue', which is obviously mike's colour, there's a bunch of lyrics that connect to both of them.

lyrics from mike's pov:

You can't help but become the sun - will has a bunch of light symbolism throughout the series, especially in the last ep where the light shines directly onto will from mike's pov

When you moved to Chicago, you were spinning out

When you don't know who you are, you fuck around and find out

When you called me from the train, water freezing in your eyes

You were happy and I wasn't surprised

i can totally see mike thinking that will was happier and trying new things in lenora without him, especially after the lies el told mike in her letters and then mike being a little upset about it.

this part is from will's pov:

Now you're moving in, breaking a sweat on your upper lip

And getting pissed about humidity and the leaky faucet- digging the grave for unnamed hero agent guy haha and creating el's mind fight bath

You already hurt my feelings three times

In the way only you could- it's not my fault you don't like girls, the lack of letters/calls when will was in lenora, and the rink-o-mania fight

You've never done me wrong

Except for that one time that we don't talk about

Because it doesn't matter anymore

Who won the fight?

I don't know, we're not keeping score

these lyrics also have major it's not my fault you don't like girls vibes.

and then finally from both of their povs:

But it feels good to be known so well

I can't hide from you like I hide from myself

I remember who I am when I'm with you

Your love is tough, your love is tried and true blue

Ooh-ooh

this is major painting scene vibes, with both will and mike feeling understood by the other, and not hiding from eachother.

finally, to finish this super long post off, here's a song that is soooo mike wheeler coded that literally every lyric can be applied, forever dumb, by surf curse. it's all mike's pov

I would run away from you, if I could

Never really wanted to, but I guess I should run - the first two lines obviously correlate to will and how mike feels about him leading to him wanting to run from him

I would fall in love with you, but I can't

It's too hard, maybe we'll just pretend- the next two lines are about his relationship with el lmao

But it's hard when I don't know what to do

I'm angry and I'm tired and confused

I got so many thoughts stuck in my head

And none of them make much sense- big big big mike vibes

I said I would follow you, but I lied

Don't be mad

Well, at least I tried- 'follow you' is both related to crazy together as well as mike's relationship with el

I never had a spot for you in my life

Which was true

Till I heard you cry- mike meeting el for the first time and taking her in or byler meeting at the swingset

And your tears dripped down your face into my eyes- either the van scene or el telling mike that he never said i love you

I'm sorry and I hate myself this time

Cause I got so many thoughts stuck in my head

And none of them

Make much sense

anyway, tysm for the ask!! (this was my reminder to change my anon settings haha)

here are the three songs!!!

#byler #stranger things #will byers #mike wheeler #asks

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aceofstars16 · 9 months

Note

7 for Stan, 12 for Ford, 1 for Mabel, 2 for Dipper; 9 for Chara, 10 for Berlyne, 18 for Apen, 6 for Idony; and then (let's hope a quick scroll got character names for Jade Torch right) 14 for Lune, 13 for Gabryl, 24 for Kennyth, and 4 for Soni, please?

It took me a while to get to this but I will attempt to reply now!

And so many fun fandoms! I'm tagging @dragonanne since there are Jade Torch characters here hehe

Stan: 7. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you like?

Hmmm, I'm not sure if it's 100% a *fandom* thing but like, I really do love all of the protective Stan things, especially when he's protecting Ford. Gotta love protective siblings! 👏

Ford: 12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?

Oooo, there are probably a LOT, but one that's I've been wanting to write about is the headcanon that Ford tries to get Stan to like...be healthier after the show. Like, exercise more, eat healthier, all of that. Of course, Stan is annoyed by it, but it's because Ford knows they already lost so much time with his brother and he wants to have as much time with him as possible 🥹

Mabel: 1. Why do you like or dislike this character?

Mabel! I mean, there are so many reasons to like her tbh. I think for me, I really just love her energy and excitement for life. She's just so fun, and she also makes me laugh so much, maybe even more than any of the other characters 😂

Dipper: 2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

Oh canon thing...I mean, you gotta love his care for Mabel. Just that sibling love and support makes me so happy! And his nerdiness of course, gotta love an excited nerd haha

Chara: 9. Could you be roommates with this character?

Oh man...I...genuinely do not know tbh...I feel like maybe? I've really only shared a room with my sister and as I've gotten older I've had a harder time sharing sleeping spaces with anyone beside family so...???

Berlyne: 10. Could you be best friends with this character?

Oooo...I'd like to think so? I mean, I think we definitely have differences in personality, but I feel like I could understand her enough to be friends at least?

Apen: 18. How about a relationship they have in canon with another character that you admire?

It's funny cause I had one gut reaction, then it changed...I think I might have to go with him and Bay? Like, even when Apen was little, he didn't antagonize Bay, and he seemed genuinely concerned about him. And even as he got older, he has never hated Bay (and Bay's care and concern (or maybe some guilt?) for Apen in Gallitan is just...😭)

Idony: 6. What's something you have in common with this character?

Oh hmmm...I mean, I feel like she cares a lot about people and I relate to that quite a bit 🥲

Lune: 14. Assign a fashion aesthetic to this character.

Haha this is funny because I just saw a modern drawing of her, so I'm thinking of that now lol. I feel like...green tank tops with maybe a leather jacket and black pants (probably some more stretchy material so she can fight in them haha)

Gabryl: 13. What's an emoji, an emoticon and/or any symbol that reminds you of this character or you think the character would use a lot?

Oooo...honestly...I'm thinking the 🥲 Just...for me, I love him but I also get emo about him...but also like...in a good way? If he used emojis....eh...maybe just the generic smile? :)

Kenneth: 24. What other character from another fandom of yours that reminds you of them?

I had a hard time with this haha...but I feel like I just settled on a mix of Kai from Lunar Chronicles and Gilan from Ranger's Apprentice? (though Gabryl reminders me of Kai too haha)

Soni: 4. If you could put this character in any other media, be it a book, a movie, anything, what would you put them in?

....is it bad I want to say my book idea that I haven't written yet? It has dragons and it would be fun if Soni could interact with my dragons haha 😂

#a message from fulcrum #gravity falls #the silver eye #jade torch

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httyddragonfox · 1 year

Text

Thoughts on TOH Finale

What I loved and what I disagreed with, because yeah, it wasn't perfect.

What's start with what I loved:

The animation was great, free flowing and felt like an anime, especially with Luz's power-up and the epilogue scene.

Everything was concluded nicely for the most part.

I loved the symbolism of Belos' death, all the people he had hurt and tried to possess and control represented by three people, while Luz, the person he tried to connect to based on their own humanity, rejects him. His own humanity has rejected him, while he's stomped to death by the implied descendant of Caleb, someone who thought for everyone in the isles and the Clawthorne's lover, and a titan. He's also melted by the boiling rain, in the end killed by the place he hated with a passion.

I love how powerful Raine is displayed to be, as soon as they wake up from puppetization they are fighting Belos, aware of what's he's doing and trying to stop him. Raine is amazing!

Subtly whilst frustrating has it's moments, for instance, Darius being the one to reunite with Hunter, implying Hunter has a family now on the Boiling Isles. Huntlow also has it's subtle confirmation, like Hunter staying with Willow until she reunites with her family, Willow pulling on his bow tie at Grom, and them consistently holding hands and each other in the epilouge. I just thought that was all so cute.

Now for what I had problems with...

No Caleb. Yeah, I get it...the group didn't need to know about him and Evelyn to deal with Belos. To be fair, I think they know enough (I'll get to that in another post). Yet, after all the build-up we had with Caleb over season 2 and 3 it was a little disappointing that he didn't have any part to play in the finale. It didn't have to be much, maybe as Luz is glaring at Belos, Belos sees Caleb glaring at him as well, maybe Caleb can turn away as Luz does. Maybe Belos can mutter Caleb's name in horror and then maybe turn his attention back to begging to Luz. We didn't need a flashback, we know the story, but it wouldn't hurt to put Caleb in there for a least a couple of seconds. Make Belos realize that not only humanity, anybody who could care about him, doesn't. He's burned every bridge and he's done for.

Hexsquad demotion. This is more of a personal opinion. Yeah I guess they wanted the finale to focus on the main three characters. It would have been nice though, because these five have already been through so much together, that they shared the final battle together. Raine was invloved, they could have involved the others too. Yeah they were exhausted, and what could they do against Belos fungus (You touch it and you die). Well they could have fought with glyphs, like they were doing in the archives. They didn't even need to fight anybody! It would have been beautiful for Amity to see her girlfriend all powerful, you could have added extra trauma by having them know specifically that Luz died. Amity and the others were exhausted, maybe they all would have gotten a surge of power like King and Eda. Yeah, they didn't want to leave the people in the archives, but maybe they could have gone to go save them with the collector. Yes, they didn't wake up for a while because they were puppets, but if Amity could make a glyph who says the others couldn't? Also, how did they know glyphs would undo the collector's magic?

What about Hunter? Someone did a compilation of all his lines in the episode...it's not much. He speaks the most in the dream sequence. I do like that he was the first to smile at Luz when they woke up for a moment, because he knows what Luz can do. However, Zeno's last line (besides "BYYYEEE") was "the collector?" Seriously?! What was the issue, Gus's character was voiced when everyone was reuniting, as was Amity, Willow and Hunter were silent! Maybe give a few lines between him and Darius like, "Nice shirt" "Thanks, I made it myself. These creatures are called wolves..." then start fading off. That could have been a good last line, him being a dork. They didn't give him any lines in the epilogue. Who had lines from the main cast? Camila, Luz, Vee, Eda, Lillith, Amity, Gus, Willow, King...and no Hunter. They could've given him a line in there! Like, Luz says... "You guys didn't have to do this." and Hunter says something along the lines of, "Of course we were going to do this for you, come on, it's you." But nope, nothing. I know Hunter is not a main character, he came in the second season, but like how Eda and Amity are deurtagonists, I'd like to think he is one too. It's not like they ran out of budget so they decided to cut some of Zeno's lines, they several beautiful animation scenes; It's not Zeno didn't want to do it anymore, he loves voicing Hunter. Hunter could've been further traumatized this episode, as they love doing that to him apparently, but didn't even do that except for the dream. It's almost like they like Zeno to pull off an emotional line instead of traumatizing Hunter. Another thing, everyone was exhausted? Hunter wasn't, at least he wouldn't be, he just got his powers! We only see him use them once in this episode. Why reveal he has powers at all if it's not going to be useful later? We could have seen him use them in the archives to save people from debris, or to jump up to catch Emmaline. I guess they wanted to show the entire Hexsquad using glyphs. They didn't even show if he had these powers in the future, like he could have used his flash step to catch up to Willow. Last note on Hunter, if he was there when Belos died, Belos could have tried begging to him to save him and calling him Caleb, Hunter could turn away from him and tell him that's not who he is. That would be a good conclusion to his arc and a good final line, that is if the Hexsquad went to meet up with Luz when the battle was over. Willow could've comforted him afterwards because it would still be hard for him to deal with. Then they could go meet up with their families. Speaking of, why didn't they all show up at the owl house with Amity and Camilla, they must've all been worried about Luz.

Huntlow? Again, a personal one. You don't need an "I love you," a "will you go out with me?" or a kiss to be canon. They're affectionate enough already. Still, I would like the antis to be quiet, so it would have been nice if they kissed in the epilogue. Maybe after they slid down the hill a kiss on the cheek, maybe seeing the fireworks a kiss on the mouth. Oh well, it's canon in my mind.

That's my little rant, maybe they would throw in some things I missed in the potential spin-offs. Other than those 4 things it was good.

#the owl house #toh #watching and dreaming #season 3 #rant #what could've been #hunter #huntlow #raine #belos #hexsquad #spoilers #epilouge #caleb wittebane

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macabremoons · 1 year

Text

Pretentious Poetry

Summary: Emotions are hard, but feelings for Benjamin, the boy she never thought she'd even like, are harder. What's easier, though not by much, is writing poetry. After all, isn't love the perfect muse?

A/N: This is for my friends birthday! Happy birth bestie!! Also thank you to @mouseinthegreenhouse for betaing, though they spent most of it making fun of Menodora. Keep in mind this is not canon to the Daycycle universe. This is just a ship fic. Enjoy! My masterlist is here

"I know what you want from me, Benjamin. It’s a horrible idea," Menodora says as Benjamin walks her to her door. She hangs in the doorway, watching only her breath turn to mist.

"Okay."

"Seriously.” She scrambles for something to say. She can’t think of anything else.

"Okay, Menodora." He sounds somewhere between tired and amused. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," she says. She shuts her door, ignoring how warm her cheeks feel.

My body crescendos, she wrote once. It's barely a line, not really poetry, but she tries to shove all the emotion she has into it. She fails.

There's hundreds more like this. Fragments of deep emotion. Talentless scarps of attempts to grow closer to the single truth.

If you were my disaster, another reads, I'd die directly in your arms. But you are my lighthouse so I love you like letting my ship take harbor before putting it out to sea.

She could just write I love you. It'd be so much more symbolic. It still wouldn't put to words the shame she feels.

She runs into him three days later in the rain. He laughs at her as she holds her book bag over her head before extending his umbrella to her.

"Sometimes I forget how much you hate the rain."

"I'll never understand why people like it," Menodora huffs. She leans closer so he too gets covered by the umbrella, ignoring how close this makes them.

"Not everyone has lightning in their veins, presumably." He turns a bit to look at her from the corner of his eye. "Have you eaten?"

"Oh— No. I had to get to class."

He takes his free hand and grabs one of Menodora's. "Come on, I'll take you to my favorite place. They have meat buns there."

It takes all of her willpower to not make her heart pound. A no is on the tip of her tongue, but then her heart leaps out of her hands; Benjamin smiles.

"As long as you eat too," is all she says instead. He grabs one of her arms without hesitance. She counts it as a win.

When they get to the cafe she orders a black coffee. He scrunches his nose. "Sugar doesn’t kill, you know that?”

“It can actually,” Menodora says, sipping her perfectly normal coffee. They sit down. “It’s not my fault one of us would drink sugar if they could.”

“That’s a very common thing.”

“And it’s unhealthy. And gross.”

Benjamin puts both arms on the table. “You just hate sweet things. You’re so…”

“Bitter?”

“Savory.” He mixes his coffee. “Not bitter.”

“Same thing.” Benjamin huffs. Menodora looks out the window. He’s wearing that hoodie she likes.

Focus. She can write bad unfinished poetry about this later.

She takes out her laptop and they study. Benjamin tells her about all the history he’s learning about. He makes Menodora laugh with horrible jokes, and she makes fun of his professor. She tells him about the music history of things around the same time, and she swears he hangs off her every word.

She finds herself wondering what his coffee tastes like during one of his rants about the typos in his study material. But it’s all gone. Menodora wonders if it’s still on his lips.

"What do you think blood is?" she asks. They lay on the cool back of his car.

"Like literally or?"

"Metaphorically of course. Non physically at the very least."

"Those are two different things."

Menodora shakes her head. "No, no. It's like, most people say blood is life—life energy, light force—but I don't believe that."

Benjamin turns to her. "What do you believe then?"

This curiosity is so faerie-like that she reminds herself of the hate she feels for anyone who doesn't consider him to be the fae. What vampire would humor her but him, a half fae? What vampire would love her so to withstand her constant fluctuations from adoration to maliciousness?

"Blood is the soul. Which sounds the same, but it's not. Life is existence, the plants the trees, but your soul is you. Maybe drinking someone's blood means understanding them past any way words could describe."

"You're good at that. Writing poetry out of nowhere."

"I could have read it somewhere," she defends. She feels the need to shift her head closer to his.

"But you didn't. It came from you. It came from your personal experiences."

If only he knew how true that was. "What constellations do you want to see tonight?"

"I don't care. As long as I'm with you it's fun." He looks back at the sky. Menodora is thankful. She doesn't know what she'd do if he was still looking at her. "And I don't know if I agree with your idea."

"Really? What do you think?" He's more knowledgeable on the subject anyway. Menodora's thoughts on the matter are scraps of requests that live and die on her tongue when she sees him.

"It makes the whole blood drinking thing sound pretty. It isn't. It's ugly and raw and, well, awful."

His face is so sour. He speaks as if he's some werewolf, ranting about vampires. He speaks as if he isn't one himself, as if human blood does not run in his stomach at this moment.

Human blood that is not Menodora's. Such a stupid thing to be envious of.

"Hard to know which one of us is more right. Historically one of us is the bitter and the bitten, but you know what blood tastes like more than I do. Still, I do think it's pretty. Like childbirth is beautiful without being beautiful. It's messy and miserable, but it's life."

Benjamin laughs. It makes the cool night air taste bitter on Menodora's tongue. "I wish I thought like that. How do you find it within yourself to find it pretty? Doesn't it, I don't know, scare you?"

Don't I scare you? The question hangs in the air, and Menodora shakes her head to dispel it. "No, it doesn't."

Scary how? She writes on a napkin as soon as she gets home. Your arms have never crushed me.

She groans into her hands when she can not think of another line. She repeats it out loud time and time again, but there's nothing to add. It's not perfect. Menodora knows it needs something to really drive the punch of phonetics in.

She has no more words to say. She realizes now that the words are more like a diary entry than a poem. It's fact, not poetry.

She goes back to some of her old lines in frustration. If she can not write something new, she can finish something old, surely. She spends hours at her desk over the next couple of days. She crumbles paper after paper, dashes word after word. She pokes her emotion like a bear for inspiration. She bargains with creativity.

She ends up with this:

My body crescendos

I crash crushed by the waves

I'd carve your name into the skin above my heart

I'd halt the heavens so they could hear you

I'd do all this, all this, but I wouldn't say I love you

It turns out that the real poetry is still a fact, this one Menodora had been hoping was fiction.

Menodora presses her face into Bonnie’s couch and screams. “I’m a horrible person.”

“No, you’re not.” Bonnie rubs her back. “Why do you think so?”

“Because. Ben likes me—thinks he likes me. But he doesn’t because he doesn't know how”—she makes a noise—”I am. So he thinks he likes me.”

“Insecure?” Menodora lifts her face enough to glare at Bonnie. “I’m sorry, it’s true. I’ve never seen someone do more mental gymnastics to convince themselves someone didn’t like them.”

“But he’s so pretty.”

“You are too?”

“And kind, and funny.”

“Again, describing yourself.”

Menodora shakes her head. She lifts herself up completely. She puts a hand on each of Bonnie’s shoulders. “I’m not, though. I am not kind. I’m disarming, not funny. I’m so me.”

“And he likes you, for all of that. He isn’t blind. He knows you almost got him expelled.”

Menodora gags. “Don’t remind me. That— I want to say that was a lapse in judgment, but honestly it was pretty in character.”

“Yeah, it was. And that’s why he likes you. Because you are kind, funny, clever, disarming, pretty, and miserable to the bone.”

Menodora takes a bite of her previously discarded food. She can’t believe she let Bonnie get into her head. She promised that this movie night would be an opportunity to stop thinking about Benjamin, but here she is thinking about his name over and over.

“He deserves someone better,” Menodora says, still chewing. Bonnie sighs. “I’m serious! A normal girl would have told him that she didn’t like him by now, but here I am studying with him and eating the food he bought me. Oh my God, I’m leading him on. Oh my God.” She faceplants back into the couch. “I’m a horrible friend.”

Bonnie puts Menodora’s head in her lap. She pats Menodora’s forehead. “You’re not friends. Well, you are, but be honest you guys have been half dating for months. Would it really hurt just to stop running away from your feelings?”

Menodora hugs Bonnie’s knees. “I don’t know. What if he doesn’t get it though? What if he thinks loving me will be easy and backs down when he realizes I am so haphazardly broken?”

“Menodora,” Bonnie says, as if Menodora’s name has powers, “no one is easy to love. Benjamin isn’t even easy to love. He’s reckless, careless, and a little emotionally insensitive.”

Menodora turns onto her back. “But he doesn’t mean to be, and he always apologizes, even if he can't.”

“Yes, but you never have to accept those sorries, but you do, because you love him. He’d accept a thousand of your apologies, Meno. He’d accept you.”

Emilio accidentally sees some of her poetry when it leaks out of her bag. The look of pure disgust is enough to make her laugh.

“You need help. From a higher power. All of them at once,” he signs.

“You don’t even know what the poem is about,” she signs back.

“Mute. I am not blind, I’m mute. One day that is going to get into your thick skull. I see the way you look at Benjamin. A pair, you two. Disgustingly odd and weird and crooked. I’m almost surprised you two aren’t dating.”

“You and everyone else,” she sighs. “I’m starting to wonder a bit myself.”

Emilio makes a face. “I do not want to know. Talk to Bonnie about this, if you must.”

Menodora gathers her papers. “Well obviously we don’t need to continue our lesson today if you know enough signs to insult me. You’re getting really good, by the way.”

Emilio smiles a bit. “Thanks. Though I will say, while I have… thoughts about Benjamin, he’d be good for you.”

From Emilio that’s as good as the Luna’s word documented in gold. It’d be foolish not to at least consider his words. Menodora has never considered herself a fool.

“Why do you like poetry?” Benjamin asked her once, months ago.

“I don’t know.” She bit into her bread, looking off for an answer. “As pretentious as it is, poetry feels like breathing to me. It’s something I do because I must. I enjoy it because it fuels me.”

“Many would consider poetry pretentious.”

“I resent that. Poetry is often just emotion put to words in its rawest form. Is emotion pretentious?”

Benjamin thought for a moment. “Depends. Entitlement is pretty pretentious.”

“That isn’t relevant to the current topic,” Menodora huffed. “I agree, but every poem is not entitled. It’s withdrawn, if anything. Poetry is all the things you wish you could say but you don’t.”

“What do you write about, then?”

This question rings in her head as she looks at her newest poem.

If you were a disaster, I'd die directly in your arms

But you are my lighthouse in a lighting storm

My love in a lawless land

I'd dock my boat near you without hesitance

And I'd leave your harbors with resistance

Darkness they deem you, but dare I call them wrong

There's so much light within you, my little hailstorm

Menodora hates this poem. She can’t tell if it’s because it’s bad, or if the weight of the things she keeps not saying is starting to weigh her down. Even if she is right in her thinking, is she right in her execution?

Menodora runs into Benjamin on his exam day. He’s a flurry of rants, even though he got a good grade. Menodora almost feels bad for her professor, and then she remembers that he docked twenty point from one of Benjamin’s essays because he felt it could be better. He deserves every true complaint that falls from Benjamin’s mouth.

At the end of his rant, Benjamin turns to Menodora. “Want to go out in, say, a week? I have to take my sister to this concert she’s excited about, but afterwards I’m free.”

Menodora ducks bread into her coffee. “Sure. Where do you want to go? I heard that there was a good movie in theaters.”

“One of your movies or mine?”

“Yours.”

Benjamin scrunches his nose. “So you can look like half on death’s door trying to keep in your criticisms?”

Menodora just doesn’t think that being shot in the leg is something you can walk off, and that media should stop presenting it as such so Emilio doesn’t have to deal with more dumbasses in his office, but to each their own. “I like going with you.”

Benjamin raises an eyebrow. “Is that a confession, my dear?” Menodora takes a sip of her coffee. “I’m joking.”

“I know. I didn’t say no.” There’s soggy bread crumbles in her mouth. How unromantic. “Take it as an invitation. I’d ask you out, but that’d be ruining your chance, no?”

She makes eye contact with him at her last word, and instantly regrets it. Benjamin looks so shocked. You’d think she told him he won the lottery or something.

“I can’t tell if you’re joking.” He pauses, and if he could, Menodora thinks he’d take a deep breath. “It’d be a very unfunny one.”

“No, that’d be cruel. I’m being honest.”

“You want to go out?”

“Yes.”

“On a date?”

“Yes.”

Benjamin narrows his eyes. “What happened to your whole reservations?”

“Maybe I realized I can’t make choices for other people, or that it isn’t even a choice I’d want to make for you. Also maybe I’m bad at being emotionally coherent.”

“But you like me?”

“I’m starting to regret this.”

“Come on! At least give me this.”

“Yes, I like you. I have for months. Admittingly I’m starting to think instead of letting you take me out I should apologize and forget this interaction existed.”

“Do not.”

“Ah, constraints.” She smiles. “I won’t.”

He waves a hand. “If you had told me that you didn’t like me, I would have stopped chasing you. Simple as that. But I knew that wasn’t exactly the truth, and I figured you would eventually cough up your reasoning. You never did though.”

“Must you shake the entire truth out of me?”

“Physically, no. Emotionally, yes. You’re a very confusing lady. Pretty, but still.”

“It just sounds silly to me. I am very unsure why you’d want to pursue a relationship with me. I’m not exactly nice, or darling. It’d be difficult to go to family gatherings. Kronos would probably hate anyone I hate, so that’s fine, but your parents like you. I like your parents. It’s embarrassing, I’d think.”

He blinks. “That’s… it?” He closes his eyes. “I understand your claims are serious and whatnot, but I thought you didn’t like me, or thought that dating someone like me would be too taxing.”

“Why would I care?”

“Better question: why would I?” He laughs. “You’re so interesting. You crushed me in debate months ago, but now you sit before me and tell me that you have nothing of value to offer. You’re wrong about that, by the way. You are very darling, and nice, when you allow yourself to be.”

“Which isn’t always.”

“Does it have to be? It’s enough for me.”

“We’re teenagers now, but what about later? It’s not like there’s many ways I could become immortal. It’s a coupling made for heartbreak.”

“That is a better reasoning.” He takes a sip of his coffee and pulls a face of disgust when it’s most likely cold. “I might be immortal, but I am still young. It will be a very long time before that means anything to me.” He rests his head in one of his hands. “Besides, I don’t think I could love anyone else.”

“It’s too soon to say.”

“No, it’s not. It’s not something I can explain to you that you would understand. Our elements are so different, and we aren’t the species, but this is something I just know. We were made for each other, not just here and now, but in the next a thousand years, in every universe.”

“Oh my God,” she groans. Menodora is not going to blush at that. “Are we going out or not?”

“Of course, darling. Though not the movies, what mild soul do you think I am?”

“Truly my mistake,” Menodora deadpans.

“Yes, yes.” He puts a finger to his chin. “Dinner? Somewhere fancy?”

“Okay.”

“I’ll pick you up—and pay. Don’t even try it.”

She rolls her eyes. “I wasn’t going to try to.”

His eyes soften. “You really are enough for me, you know that?”

“I think I’m starting to.” His phone buzzes. “Ah, right. You have a study group soon.”

“Actually I’m late for it.” He gets up. “We’ll talk later?”

“Sure.”

“Okay. Goodbye."

"Goodbye, Menodora."

Two weeks later they go to the movies like she wanted. Afterwards they sit in his car. He's completely leaned over to her side of the car, pressing kisses all over her face. She laughs, but he tells her it's quite serious.

"It's not everyday you get to kiss a pretty girl, you know. That's why you truly must savor the moment."

He drives her home and insists on pulling straight up to her house. When Kronos asks how her evening was with that boy, she feels less uncomfortable.

"Well, sir, I am dating that boy," she says. The look of disgust on Kronos's face is enough to make her giddy.

"You never show me any of your poetry," Benjamin whines one day, face planting into the crook of her neck.

Menodora side eyes him. "You're reading it now, certainly."

"It's the principle of the thing. My girlfriend, the most beautiful woman I've ever met, won't even let me read the thing she's passionate about. Maybe I have failed as a boyfriend because—"

Menodora isn't listening to that entire paragraph. "I didn't let you read them because they were about you."

Benjamin straightens up. "Really? Can I read one now?"

"They're not good. The word choice is awful. The things I was trying to express were cringey." None of her words are making him look less excited. "Fine, but if you start going on and on about how great you are afterwards I'm kicking you out."

She opens her draw and pulls out her poetry scraps. "I didn't finish a lot of it. You're hard to write about."

Benjamin takes the stack from her and pulls up a chair. She stops writing to watch him read. Curse him and his stupid vampire genes because his face is so blank as he reads it. He isn't doing it on purpose so she can't even complain about it. Menodora huffs.

She sees one of the full poems and she's immediately mortified. "Nevermind give it back."

"These are beautiful," he says, voice so full of wonder. "I love these. You're an incredible poet."

Menodora grabs at her poems. He lets her take them. "I appreciate it, but it's nothing, really. They are just stray thoughts about how I was feeling."

Benjamin's awe only grows. "Do you mean to say that your actual thoughts are just as pretty as that?"

"I will kill you."

Benjamin kisses her cheek. "I'd let you, sweetheart. It's a little bonding exercise."

She ignores the validity of the statement. "It's weird having you read those. I never thought you'd see them."

"There's no part of you that scares me. Besides, it's very flattering."

"What did I say about the ego thing?" Menodora warns, but the look in Benjamin's eyes keeps her from bantering further.

"I love you," he says simply, but it's for the first time.

"I love you too," she replies, warmer than she's been before.

#project daycycle #my bloody masterpieces #p. d: menodora #p. d: benjamin #mbm: Pretentious Poetry #my writing #vampire x human #original story #original writing #original characters

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quil12 · 2 years

Note

Can you do a Hanahaki au? Specifically with Yu having it.

(I'll completely understand if you don't want to)

I can't say that I've ever even read a Hanahaki fic lmao (so sorry if it doesn't go the way that it normally would go), but this was very interesting to write. I love doing love confessions, so this was an interesting way of getting there.

Yu stared down at the yellow flower petal sitting in the middle of his palm. He had just had an intense coughing fit and, before he knew it, there it was.

He had heard stories of this happening before. How if a love that you had was unrequited, your lungs would slowly fill up with flowers until there was nothing that you could do until you began to choke on them and died.

Of course, if the love became requited, the flowers would go away as well.

There was no way that his love was requited.

There was absolutely no way.

He curled his palm up, crushing the flower petal, then threw it into the trash can next to his desk.

- - -

Yu gazed out at the water of the Samegawa, enjoying the warm summer breeze as it blew through his hair. He had taken his tackle box and had come out here to do a little bit of fishing. It was always a pleasant way to spend an evening.

All of a sudden, he heard his name being called from the ridge up above him.

His breath hitched.

Yosuke.

“Hey, Yu, Partner, what’re you up to?”

He swallowed hard as he looked up toward his smiling face, the evening light casting him in a soft yellow glow. He was so unbelievably handsome. He didn’t know how he wasn’t supposed to fall for him.

He was the worst person to fall for though.

He wasn’t interested in men - he had made that stance abundantly clear when they had gone to rescue Kanji.

There was no way that he could ever be interested in him - not in any sort of romantic sense.

“Oh, I’m just fishing.” He gestured at the fishing pole.

“Want some company?”

“If you want to.”

“Of course I want to.”

As he started heading down the river bank toward him, there was a sudden tickling in his throat. He tried to keep it down, but it only got more and more insistent. He turned his head away from him, coughing into his hand.

Yosuke sat beside him just as he stopped.

“That’s a pretty nasty cough. Are you feeling okay?”

Yu nodded, shoving the flower petals into the tackle box beside him as discreetly as possible, “It’s just all the pollen.”

Yosuke groaned, “Oh, I feel you there. I feel like it never used to get this bad.”

He kept talking, but Yu was caught up in the relief of not getting caught.

He briefly considered telling him. Telling him that he was in love with him. If he told him, he did suppose that it would wipe out any doubt in his mind that it was completely unrequited. Wipe out that tiny sliver of hope that he had.

Then again, if he told him, he would hate him.

If he was going to die anyway, he might as well live in a world where he was still his friend and was allowed to be around him. He didn’t know what he would do if he wasn’t permitted that.

- - -

Alstroemeria.

That was the kind of flower it was.

There was no mistaking it now, especially not after he had coughed up the whole flower head, not just its petals.

He had searched it up online, and apparently, it symbolized friendship as well as a strong bond of love between two people.

That had made his chest ache.

Friendship. That part was definitely true. He knew that Yosuke considered him a friend - a best friend even. He thought of him in that way too. He did also love him as a friend.

It was more than that though. While the love between them might have been purely platonic from Yosuke’s point of view, it was wholly tinged with romance from Yu’s.

A strong bond of love could mean either of those two things. At least he knew that he loved him - though not in the way that he wanted.

- - -

Yu sat up quickly in bed. He couldn’t breathe. His mind was in complete panic mode. Was he about to die?

He closed his eyes, trying to calm himself down a little, before turning his head, forcing himself to cough. After a few seconds, he spat out two flower heads along with enough petals that he couldn’t be bothered to count them.

He took a deep breath, his lungs eternally grateful for the air they were finally getting.

He reached into his mouth, pulling out another petal, setting it down with the others on his blanket.

He just laid there for a while, staring blankly up at the ceiling. He didn’t want to die, but he couldn’t exactly confess to him either.

After a few minutes, he sat up, gathering all the flowers together, and throwing them away. For the time being, he was fine. He still had time to spend with Yosuke.

- - -

Yu stepped out of the house, starting the walk to school.

Everything was fine until he started to feel the now familiar tickle in his throat.

He took a breath. He couldn’t let anyone see. If they saw, then people would start talking about it. He didn’t know what he would do it Yosuke confronted him about it.

He turned down an side street, forcing himself to cough into his hand until his throat was raw. He needed to get as much out as possible before getting to school.

He still had the flowers in his hand when there was a familiar voice from behind him.

“Yu? What are you doing?”

He quickly turned to face him, holding the flowers behind his back, “Nothing.”

He winced. That had sounded so suspicious.

Yosuke furrowed his brows, walking over to him, and grabbing onto his arm, pulling it from behind his back and toward him. He stared at the flowers for a few seconds.

Yu’s heart was pounding in his chest. He was about to put it together. He was about to find out what was going on.

He frowned, “Did someone give you flowers or something?”

He could have cried in relief. An out. He was offering him an out.

“Oh, yeah. Someone did. I don’t really want them though.”

He opened his hands, letting the flowers float gently down to the ground.

“Wow, kinda harsh, don’t you think. Some poor girl is going to be heartbroken.”

Yu shrugged, “I guess.”

Yosuke shook his head, “Come on. We’re gonna be late for school.”

Yu nodded, following him as he started walking in the direction of the school building. Things would be fine for a little while longer.

- - -

“Hey, Yu, I was wondering if you wanted to hang out after school.”

“That sounds like fun.” Yu was already agreeing before he could even think about it. There was no way that he could ever say no to Yosuke.

“Great.” He beamed at him, his smile so bright it could light up the world.

Once school was out for the day, he went with Yosuke out of the school. It was getting to be the middle of fall, the whole countryside painted in browns, oranges, and yellows.

“So, what did you want to do?” Yu asked.

Yosuke shrugged, “I dunno. Just hang out, I guess.”

Yu smiled, “Sounds good to me.”

They walked around for a while, getting a ways away from the center of town. It was so rural and basically deserted out there. The whole walk was filled with Yosuke’s cheerful voice as he talked about whatever happened to pop into his head.

Yu listened to every word, just wanting to hear his voice.

Everything was going well until the all-too-familiar tickle started in his throat. He successfully ignored it for a while, but, as time went on, it started to go from a tickle to pain as it became harder and harder to breathe.

He needed to get away from Yosuke as fast as he could.

“I think I should start heading back now,” Yu said, keeping his voice as calm and level as possible.

Yosuke frowned, “Oh, all right. Is everything okay?”

Yu nodded, “It’s fine.”

He gave him a look like he wasn’t convinced, but didn’t push him on it, and for that, he was grateful.

They started walking back in the direction of town. They didn’t get very far though before the need to breathe became too strong. It was too hard, his vision swimming in front of him. He should have suggested that they go back as soon as he felt the initial tickle. He had to keep from coughing. If he saw him cough up the flowers, what was he supposed to do then?

“Yu? Are you okay?”

His voice seemed so far away. He realized that he had stopped walking. That was probably why he was asking that.

Yosuke grabbed his arm, leading him off the road, pushing him against a tree. He leaned back against it, sliding down to the ground. Yosuke was talking to him, but he couldn’t hear him over the pounding of his heart in his ears.

He was going to choke if he didn’t get them out. It was either do that or die. That realization hit him hard, panic starting to set in. He didn’t want to die.

He faced toward the ground, trying to keep at least partially out of Yosuke’s line of sight, then started coughing. Tears were running down his face, his chest and throat burning.

He managed to get out the flowers stuck in his throat, but there was still a feeling of fullness in his lungs. It really was only a matter of time.

“Yu? Hey. Look at me.” Yosuke’s voice was filled with panic.

He took a sharp breath, grabbing at the flowers underneath him, trying desperately to hide them away from him.

Yosuke grabbed on to one of his hands, pulling it up, moving his fingers apart, and taking the flower out of his palm.

This was it. He was about to figure it out.

He looked between his face and the flower, a sudden look of realization coming across his face.

“I… Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

Yu shook his head, looking down at the ground.

“Well, who is it then? I need to get you to them right now. I can’t…”

Yu shook his head again. He couldn’t tell him who it was. He couldn’t…

It was quiet for a few seconds.

“Yu, you need to tell me who it is right now. I’m not going to let you die. Please.” His voice cracked.

Yu bit his lip.

“Tell me, please.”

He sounded so desperate. He really didn’t like to hear him like that.

“What would you do it you knew?”

“What would I do…?”

“It’s not requited.”

“How do you know for sure?”

“I know.”

“There’s always the possibility that it’s not and that-”

“It’s you.”

Yu closed his eyes. There. He had said it. He didn’t want to argue with him anymore.

He was expecting him to yell at him. He was expecting him to be angry. He was expecting him to call him disgusting or walk away from him.

What he was not expecting was for him to lay his palm against his cheek and gingerly press their lips together.

It didn’t last for very long, just a chaste, gentle touch of their lips. They were so warm and soft against his. It made him feel like he couldn’t breathe, but in a much more pleasant way than had been the case before.

Yosuke pulled away, pressing their foreheads together. There were tears in his voice as he spoke, “You’re such an idiot. I love you. I love you so much.”

He loved him?

There was no way that this was real. There was no way that he liked him back.

“You do?”

“Yeah, I do.” He pulled back, “So don’t ever try and hide something like this from me ever again. I… I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I’m sorry.” Tears started rolling down his cheeks.

Yosuke shushed him, wrapping his arms around him, holding him tightly up against him.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice full of adoration and endearment.

#souyo #fanfiction

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