#i seriously need to stop cutting it on impulse though i should really do it properly

[limewatt]

i NEED to stop impulsively cutting my hair i wasn’t even looking in a mirror this time .i think there’s something wrong with me

[princessofgotham777]

Dating Jason Todd (Part Two)

fanfic type: angst, fluff, comfort (ongoing)

If you liked the Titans show but wish they handled Jason’s story line differently you might like this fic!

Hey so this is in fact my first time writing fanfiction (idk what my life has come to). Sorry if it’s cringy but also I would eat this up cause I LOVE some good angsty comfort fanfiction. I won’t write smut. I don’t think I’m gonna do requests but if you have any ideas feel free to let me know. Also of course I don’t own any DC characters this is purely fanfiction. Although I’ve had tumblr for a bit I’m not really used to posting stuff so sorry if I don’t format everything well. Thank you and I hope you enjoy. (I hope you like run-on sentences💀) (if you don’t like it don’t be rude just move on dude😃🧍‍♀️)

So story line, this doesn’t really take place in any specific universe but I’m gonna be pulling concepts from Titans, The Batman, Under the Red Hood, and whatever lore I remember from the CW shows cause I grew up watching those, then just my imagination of course. The beginning takes place when Jason is still Robin but he’s no longer apart of the titans. Reader is referred to as she/her btw.

Warnings: talking about death, suicide, depression, torture (it’s not graphic I hate gore it’s just sad)

Part Two: Fear and Love

You stood in Dick’s bedroom as he packed. “You can’t just leave me here,” you said.

“I have to go find Jason and you can’t come with me,” he says.

“You know I can help.”

“I also know joker is after you, if you came to Gotham we’d be giving joker exactly what he wants,” Dick says. “Come on I’ve gotta wake up the others before I leave to let them know Jason’s off to get himself killed.”

“Dick!” You say. He looks at you with that cold glare you’re oh so familiar with. “You need to promise me something,” you say seriously.

“I’m listening,” Dick says.

“And you can’t tell anyone I’m asking you to do this, especially not Jason,” you say. You and Dick were inches apart now, making eye contact so intense you could feel a shift in the energy of the room.

“What is it Y/N,” Dick says softly.

“I need you to protect Jason,” you begin saying.

“Y/N, you know him he’s impulsive and if he wants to do something nobody can-“ you cut him off.

Teary eyed you say, “I know, but if anything happens to him I won’t forgive myself…and I won’t forgive you. Just promise me you’ll do your best.”

“I promise Y/N” Dick says. His voice is cold yet soft, almost like he wants to say more but is stopping himself.

Dick woke everyone up and told the team Jason had gone to Gotham.

“Idiot,” Kori said.

“Literally took the words out of my mouth but unfortunately he’s my problem,” Dick glances at you, “Our problem.”

“Should anyone go with you?” Gar asks.

“No, I want you guys to stick together,” he says to Kori, Gar and Rachel. “And keep an eye on Y/N.” Dick adds.

That sentence pissed you off. He starts to leave and as he walks past you say, “I don’t need a fucking babysitter.” This was one of the times Dick realized why you got along with Jason so well. Dick leaves and you immediately head for Jason’s room.

You start searching for any note he might’ve left you. After you look in his room you go tear apart your own trying to find any message or hint Jason left you. Ten minutes later you find a folded piece of notebook paper under your pink baseball cap that says “Chicago”. Jason had bought the hat for you after you found out he was Robin.

Y/N, I’m sorry for leaving you alone but right now you being as far away from me and Gotham is the safest thing for you. Stay at the tower, even though it pains me to say it, I know Dick will keep you safe, and hell if he fails then pretty sure our friends with sunlight, darkness and animal transforming powers will be enough to protect you. Don’t come looking for me, I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to you. I’ll be back in no time.

With love -Jay

You called Jason…he didn’t answer. You called Dick…he answered.

“What’s up,” Dick said.

“I will stay at the tower on one condition,” you say.

“Let’s hear it,” Dick says.

“Call me with updates and if anything drastic happens don’t wait till everything’s fine to tell me, I don’t care if it’s bad news or good news I just can’t be in the dark,” you say.

“Of course,” Dick says.

It had been three hours, no calls from Dick, radio silence from Jason, Barbra had no news, even Alfred knew nothing. You had exhausted everyone you possibly could have asked when suddenly you remembered one more person. Jason’s best friend, not you, not Gar, Roy Harper. You didn’t have his number but you had his girlfriend Thea’s. Thea Queen also known as a close friend of yours who happens to be the sister of Oliver Queen, the arrow.

“Thea hey I’m kinda having a crisis,” you say.

“Oh? What’s going on?” She said with a mixture of valley girl and New York accent.

“Jokers been leaving threats against Jason and I around Gotham and he’s gone without me and nobody can find him…so I was wondering if Roy has heard anything?” You asked.

“Oh my god, I have no idea but here I’ll put him on the phone,” she said.

“Hello?” Roy says.

“Hey do you know Jason’s missing?” You say.

“I do now, what’s going on?” He says.

“Jokers been leaving notes around Gotham threatening Jason and I, Jason left last night to go by himself even though him and Dick were meant to go together. He doesn’t have a tracker but we’re positive he’s gone to Gotham to try and find joker alone.” “So he’s not called you or anything?”

“Wow…no this is the first I’m hearing any of this, so where are you now?” Roy asks.

“Titans tower in San Francisco,” you say.

“Okay I will try to get ahold of Jason and actually if he has the wallet I gave him there’s actually a tracker in there…I didn’t know it was there when I gave it to him, courtesy of Oliver’s failed attempt at tracking me but I’ll try to see if I can find him.”

“Okay thank you so much, call me back as soon as you can,” you say. Twenty minutes pass and you hear a knock on the door. You open it to see Rachel with a plate of food.

“Can I come in?” She asks.

“Course yeah,” you say.

“So how are you doing…sorry that’s a stupid question” Rachel says.

“No it’s okay, I’m doing umm…I mean I’ve been better,” you laugh nervously. “I just wish he accepted Dick’s help and didn’t go off by himself.”

“Yeah,” she says to let you know she’s listening.

“And I understand why he did it you know it’s not because he’s got anything against Dick or Bruce or titans despite what everyone thinks, he just wants to be good enough. I wish he understood getting help and working with others doesn’t mean you’re weak and incapable.” You say. Just as Rachel’s about to say something your phone rings. It’s Dick.

“What’s happened?” You say quickly.

“The cops are all here, we’re at that abandoned amusement park near the pier. Jason’s not here but we think he was. There’s blood, it’s not a concerning amount…we’re sending it over to the lab. We pretty much know it was him though cause said blood is on playing cards,” Dick says.

“Shit,” you say. “Okay wait so I called Roy and he said there’s a tracker in Jason’s wallet so if it’s on him and it still works he’s gonna call me,” you say.

“Okay call me when-“ Dick gets cut off when Roy calls you. You pick up quickly.

“The wallets at some random street in Gotham…” when Roy gives you the street name you immediately recognize it as where Poison Ivy kidnapped you a couple years ago.

“Okay thank you I’m gonna call Dick,” you say. You call Dick and put him on speaker.

“The wallets at 345 Ribbon St,” you say.

“We’re on our way,” Dick says.

I hope you guys liked part two🫡🩷 Please like the fic if you enjoyed it and want to see more cause I’ve got a whole storyline and backstory and many more ideas and want to know people are enjoying my writing.

Here’s my Masterlist so you can read the other parts.

Masterlist

[fogwitchoftheevermore]

Assigning Every Fall Out Boy Song to The Life Series

because i'm a normal person with normal person feelings about fall out boy's discography and the life series. trust me.

“every” is a strong word here because fall out boy's discography is Literally Like 150+ Songs so i’m only doing the songs off their main 8 albums in this post. if enough people ask (which i seriously doubt will happen), i’ll do the eps+remixes as well.

sorry if there is an overabundance of certain characters/a lack of certain characters. i tried to include people are frequently as possible but a: i am inherently biased (though some of my faves are pretty underrepresented), b: not everyone has the same amount of content to draw from because they haven't all been in every season and c: some of these guys are simply not fall out boy characters to me. it's just how it is.

so, under the cut will be, in release order, every fall out boy song assigned to a life series character/event+the lyric that i think best represents why i assigned it.

TAKE THIS TO YOUR GRAVE

Tell That Mick He Just Made My List of Things to Do Today: DL!Pearl

To my favorite liar, to my favorite scar (to my favorite scar!)/I could have died with you/I hope you choke on those words that kiss that bottle/Confess (so bury me in memory)

Dead on Arrival: SL!Gem and Pearl (Gem POV)

This is side one, flip me over/I know I'm not your favorite record/The songs you grow to like never stick at first/So I'm writing you a chorus, and here is your verse/No, it's not the last time, 'cause I'd never say no to you/This conversation's still dead on arrival/And there's no way to talk to you/When you're dead on

Grand Theft Autumn / Where Is Your Boy: DL!Etho (JUST TRUST ME. AND ALSO GO WATCH THE BIT WHERE FINDS OUT BDUBS+IMPULSE ARE SOULMATES)

When I wake up/I'm willing to take my chances on/The hope I'd forget that you hate him more than you notice/I wrote this for you (for you, so…)/You need him, I could be him/I could be an accident, but I'm still trying/And that's more than I can say for him/Where is your boy tonight?/I hope he is a gentleman

Saturday: SL!Gem

Pete and I attacked the laws of Astoria with promise and precision/And mess of youthful innocence/And I read about the afterlife, but I never really lived/More than an hour (More than an hour)/When I say/Two more weeks, my foot is in the door, yeah/I can't sleep, in the wake of Saturday

Homesick at Space Camp: Post 3L!Skizz

Tonight is all about "We miss you" now/These friends are, new friends are golden

Sending Postcards From a Plane Crash (Wish You Were Here): Post DL!Joel

Every friend we ever had in common/I will sever the tie, sever the tie with you/You can thank your lucky stars/Everything I wish for will never come true/When you go, I will forget everything about you

Chicago Is So Two Years Ago: LimL!Martyn

You want apologies, girl, you might hold your breath/Until your breathing stops forever, forever/The only thing you'll get is this curse on your lips/I hope they taste of me forever

The Pros and Cons of Breathing: DL!Pearl

Woah, I want to hate you half as much as I hate myself/You know that I could crush you with my voice/Stood on my roof and tried to see you/Forgetting about me/Hide the details/I don't want to know a thing

Grenade Jumper: The Heart Foundation

They'll say it's not worth it, so we'll leave this town in ruin/Living like life's going out of style, and you came to watch us play/Like a "big shot talent", but at the end of the day you know/Woah, those busted lips we take back home

Calm Before The Storm: DL!Ren

You said/Between your smiles and regrets/"Don't say it's over"/Dead and gone, dead and gone, yeah

Reinventing the Wheel to Run Myself Over: DL!Jimmy and Tango

I can't wake up to these reminders of who I am/A failure at everything, 18 going on extinct/I know my place, it's nowhere you should roam

The Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes: SL!Jimmy

I'm all ears and I'm all scars/To hear you tell me, "Boys like you, you try too hard/To look not quite as desperate," I'm hanging on/But I still know the way to make your makeup run/So, and when it all goes to Hell, will you be able to tell/Me "sorry" with a straight face?

FROM UNDER THE CORK TREE

Our Lawyer Made Us Change The Name Of This Song So We Wouldn’t Get Sued: 3L!Impulse

We're only liars but we're the best (We're the best)/We're only good for the latest trends/We're only good 'cause you can have almost famous friends/Besides, we've got such good fashion sense

Of All The Gin Joints In All The World: 3L!Ren and Martyn

You only hold me up like this/'Cause you don't know who I really am/Sometimes I just want to know what it's like to be you

Dance, Dance: DL!Bigb and Ren (Ren perspective, also this is specifically applicable most antagonistic moments of their relationship we get, to be clear. This is not the usual approach I take to them.)

You always fold just before you're found out/Drink up it's last call/Last resort, but only the first mistake, and I/I'm two quarters and a heart down/And I don't want to forget how your voice sounds/These words are all I have so I'll write them/So you need them just to get by/Why don't you show me a little bit of spine/You've been saving for his mattress, love

Sugar, We’re Goin Down: Martyn

We're going down, down in an earlier round (Take aim at myself)/And sugar, we're going down swingin' (Take back what you said)/I'll be your number one with a bullet (Take aim at myself)/A loaded God complex, cock it and pull it

Nobody Puts Baby In The Corner: LL!Cleo

I keep my jealousy close/'Cause it's all mine/And if you say this makes you happy, then I'm not the only one/Lyin'

I’ve Got A Dark Alley And A Bad Idea That Says You Should Shut Your Mouth (Summer Songs): Joel

Joke me something awful just like kisses on the necks of "best friends"/We're the kids who feel like dead ends/And I want to be known for my hits, not just my misses/I took a shot and didn't even come close

7 Minutes In Heaven (Atavan Halen): LimL!Grian

Sitting out dances on the wall/Trying to forget everything that isn't you/I'm not going home alone/'Cause I don't do too well on my own

Sophomore Slump Or Comeback Of The Year: SL!Skizz

We're the therapists pumping through your speakers/Delivering just what you need/We're well-read and poised/We're the best boys/We're the chemists who've found the formula/To make your heart swell and burst/No matter what they say/Don't believe a word

Champagne For My Real Friends, Real Pain For My Sham Friends: DL!Joel and Etho

Strike us like matches, 'cause everyone deserves the flames/We only do it for the scars and stories, not the fame/At least everyone is trying, everyone is shining/Everyone deserves the flames but it's such a shame, such a shame

I Slept With Someone In Fall Out Boy And All I Got Was This Stupid Song Written About Me: Scott

I'm the first kid to write of hearts, lies, and friends/And I am sorry my conscience called in sick again/And I've got arrogance down to a science/Oh, and I'm the first kid to write of hearts, lies, and friends, now

A Little Less Sixteen Candles, A Little More “Touch Me”: LL!BigB

I confess, I messed up/Dropping "I'm sorry" like you're still around/And I know you dressed up/"Hey, kid, you'll never live this down"/And you're just the girl all the boys wanna dance with/And I'm just the boy who's had too many chances/I'm sleepin' on your folks' porch again, dreamin'/She said, she said, she said, "Why don't you just drop dead?"

Get Busy Living Or Get Busy Dying (Do Your Part To Save The Scene And Stop Going To Shows): DL!Grian and Scar (Scar POV)

I know this hurts, it was meant to (it was meant to)/Your secret's out and the best part is it isn't even a good one/And it's mind over you don't, don't matter

XO: LL!Mumbo (Look, this is a stretch, I'll be real, but this song was giving me so much fucking trouble. Let me live.)

To the "love," I left my conscience/Pressed between the pages of/The Bible in the drawer, "What did it ever do for me"/I say/It never calls me when I'm down/Love never wanted me, but I took it anyway/Put your ear to the speaker and choose love or sympathy/But never both, love never wanted me

Snitches and Talkers Get Stitches And Walkers: SL!Tango

Here's a picture with a note, "No, don't turn out like me"/It's only for your own good/No-oh, oh, oh/And haven't you heard, the word on the street is/"I lost it, called it quits," get out into the sun

The Music Or The Misery: LL!Bdubs and Etho (Etho perspective)

I got your love letters, corrected the grammar and sent them back/It's true, romance is dead, I shot it in the chest then in the head/And if you wanna go down in history then I'm your friend/Because they've got me in a band where I've never seen a heart I couldn't break

INFINITY ON HIGH

Thriller: SL!Scar

Last summer, we took threes across the board/But by fall, we were a cover story, "Now in stores"/Make us poster boys for your scene/But we are not making an acceptance speech

“The Take Over, The Breaks Over”: LimL!Cleo

Wouldn't you rather be a widow than a divorcee?/Style your wake for fashion magazines, oh-oh-oh/Widow or a divorcee?/Don't pretend, d-d-d-don't pretend/We do it in the dark with smiles on our faces/We're trapped and well concealed in secret places/We don't fight fair

This Ain’t A Scene. It’s An Arms Race: SL!Scar

I am an arms dealer/Fitting you with weapons in the form of words/And don't really care which side wins/Long as the room keeps singing/That's just the business I'm in

I’m Like A Lawyer With The Way I’m Always Trying To Get You Off (Me & You): SL!Jimmy and Martyn

We're the new face of failure/Prettier and younger, but not any better off/Bulletproof loneliness/At best, at best

Hum Hallelujah: LL!Cleo

I thought I loved you, it was just how you looked in the light/A teenage vow in a parking lot/'Til tonight do us part/I sing the blues and you swallow them too/My words are my faith, to hell with our good name

Golden: Joel (LimL especially, but also just in general)

How cruel is the golden rule/When the lives we lived are only golden-plated?/And I knew that the lights of the city were too heavy for me/Though I carried carats for everyone to see/And I saw God cry in the reflection of my enemies/And all the lovers with no time for me/And all of the mothers raise their babies/To stay away from me

Thnks fr th Mmrs: LimL!BigB and Pearl

Been looking forward to the future/But my eyesight is going bad/And this crystal ball…/It's always cloudy except for (Except for…)/When you look into the past (Look into the past…)/One night stand…/One night stand off!

Don’t You Know Who I Think I Am?: LimL!Skizz

They say quitters never win/But we walk the plank on a sinking ship/There's a world outside of my front door/That gets off on being down/Oh-oh, oh-oh/I could learn to pity fools as I'm the worst of all/And I can't stop feeling sorry for myself, whoa-oh

The (After) Life Of The Party: Scar, again. I don't know what to tell you, this is a very Scar album.

I'm a stitch away from making it/And a scar away from falling apart, apart/Blood cells pixelate and eyes dilate/And the full moon pills got me out on the street at night

The Carpal Tunnel Of Love: LL!Mumbo and Jimmy

Tired yawns for fawns on hunter's lawns/We're the has-beens of husbands/Sharpening the knives of young wives/Take two years and call me when you're better

Bang The Doldrums: DL+LimL!Jimmy and Tango

The tombstones were waiting, they were half-engraved/They knew it was over, they just didn't know the date…/And I cast a spell over the west to make you think of me/The same way I think of you/This is a love song in my own way/Happily ever after below the waist/Best friends, ex-friends 'til the end/Better off as lovers

Fame > Infamy: LL!Joel

I am God's gift, but why would he bless me with/Such wit without a conscience equipped/I'm addicted to the way I feel when I think of you, whoa/There's too much green to feel blue

You’re Crashing, But You’re No Wave: This is far from the only FOB song about a sensitive topic but it's one of the like... two that I don't feel comfortable assigning to something.

I’ve Got All This Ringing In My Ears And None On My Fingers: DL!BigB

You're a canary, I'm a coal mine/'Cause sorrow is just all the rage/Take one for the team/You all know what I mean/And I'm so sorry but not really/Tell the boys where to find my body

G.I.N.A.S.F.S.: DL!Impulse and Bdubs

Trade baby blues for wide eyed browns/I sleep with your old shirts and walk through this house in your shoes/You know, it's strange/It's a strange way of saying that I know I'm supposed to love you/I'm supposed to love you/I've already given up on myself twice/Third time is the charm, third time is the charm/Threw caution to the wind, but I've got a/Lousy arm

It’s Hard To Say “I Do”, When I Don’t: Am I allowed to say this is a Watchers song? I don't care I'm saying it.

I speak fast and I'm not gonna repeat myself, no/So listen carefully to every word I say/I'm the only one who's gonna get away/With making excuses today/You're appealing to emotions that I simply do not have

FOLIE A DEUX

Disloyal Order Of Water Buffaloes: Impulse

Oh, I'm a loose bolt of a complete machine/What a match, I'm half-doomed, and you're semi-sweet/So boycott love, detox just to retox/And I'd promise you anything for another shot at life

I Don’t Care: LL!Fairy Fort

Let the leaves fall off in the summer/And let December glow in flames (In flames; oh)/Erase myself and let go/Start it over again in Mexico/These friends, they don't love you/They just love the hotel suites now

She’s My Winona: SL!Martyn

We didn't come to compete, this is a demonstration/Even the young ones become irrelevant/They always bring up how you've changed

America’s Suitehearts: SL!Gem

Let's hear it for America's suitehearts, but I must confess/I'm in love with my own sins/You can bow and pretend that/You don't, don't know you're a legend, oh/Time, time, time hasn't told anyone else yet

Headfirst Slide Into Cooperstown On A Bad Bet: LimL+SL!Cleo, Bdubs, and Etho

Does your husband know the way that/The sunshine gleams from your wedding band?/Does he know the way, does he know the way/Of the crickets that would convince me to call it a night?/But I will never end up like him/Behind my back, I already am

The (Shipped) Gold Standard: LimL!Bdubs

All the yes-men said "No comment"/My mouth got going/The wrong way, and all the calls started snowing/The time my dad caught me a horseshoe crab/And I asked him if throwing it back into the sea would bring our luck back/I wanna scream "I love you" from the top of my lungs/But I'm afraid that someone else will hear me

(Coffee’s For Closers): LL!BigB

Though change will come, oh, change will come/I will never believe in anything again/We will never believe again/Kick drum beating in my chest again/No, we will never believe again/Preach electric to a microphone stand, oh

What A Catch, Donnie: This song is a compilation of different vocalists from bands associated with the band, a compilation of previous songs of theirs, and one of the only FOB ballads. I can't pull a specific lyric, but this one could be solidly used for a compilation/retrospective of every season so far.

27: This is the other one I don't feel comfortable assigning to anything. Moving on.

Tiffany Blews: SL!Lizzie

I'm not a crybaby/I'm the crybaby/A caterpillar that got stuck/Mr. Moth, come quick with any luck/A long walk to a dark house/A Roman candle heart, keep us far apart/I'm cocktail party doin' alright, hate me baby/Maybe I'm a piece of art/Oh, my friends all lie and say/They only want the best wishes for me

w. a. m. s.: LL!Mumbo

I'm a young one stuck in the thoughts/Of an old one's head/When all the others were just stirrin' awake/I'm tryin' to trick myself to fall asleep again, whoa

20 Dollar Nose Bleed: Dogwarts

When I look at the man who would be king, the man who would be king/Goes to the desert, the same war his dad rehearsed/Came back with flags on coffins and said, "We won, oh, we won"/Permanent jet lag, please take me back (Please take me back)/Please take me back, (ooh, ooh)/I'm a stray dog sick, please let me in

West Coast Smoker: SL!Joel

Wishes bounce me weightless/The infrared scope on pointlessness/The bulls are sedated/And this fight's fixed

Pavlove: SL!Tango

Something make my chest stir/Something make my head blur/Oh, oh, I'm not ready for a handshake with death, no/Oh, oh, I'm just such a happy mess, whoa

SAVE ROCK AND ROLL

The Phoenix: Team TIES

Bring home the boys in scraps, scrap metal the tanks/Get hitched, make a career out of robbing banks/Because the world is just a teller and we are wearing black masks/"You broke our spirit," says the note we pass

My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark (Light Em Up): LL!Cleo

I've got the scars from tomorrow and I wish you could see/That you're the antidote to everything except for me/Through a constellation of tears on your lashes/Burn everything you love then burn the ashes

Alone Together: The Roomies (Cleo, Etho, and Grian)

I don't know where you're going/But do you got room for one more troubled soul?/I don't know where I'm going/But I don't think I'm coming home/And I said, "I'll check in tomorrow if I don't wake up dead"/This is the road to ruin and we're starting at the end

Where Did The Party Go: LL!Tango

I'm here to collect your hearts/It's the only reason that I sing/I don't believe a word you say/But I can't stop listening

Just One Yesterday: LL!Bdubs and Etho

If heaven's grief brings hell's rain/Then I'd trade all my tomorrows for just one yesterday/(I know I'm bad news)/For just one yesterday/(I saved it all for you)

The Mighty Fall: DL!Divorce Quartet

Your crooked love is just a pyramid scheme and I'm dizzy on dreams/(And I'm dizzy on dreams)/But if you ask me two's a whole lot lonelier than one/Baby, we should have left our love in the gutter where we found it/(Gutter where we found it)/'Cause you think, you think your only crime is that you got caught

Miss Missing You: Impulse and Bdubs (Impulse POV)

Baby, you were my picket fence, I miss missing you now and then/Chlorine kissed summer skin, I miss missing you now and then/Sometimes before it gets better, the darkness gets bigger/The person that you'd take a bullet for is behind the trigger/Oh, we're fading fast, I miss missing you now and then

Death Valley: This is the soundtrack to the LL Battle Royale Finale

We're going to die, it's just a matter of time/Hard times come, good times go/I'm either gone in an instant/Or here 'til the bitter end, I never know

Young Volcanoes: The Heart Foundation

C'mon, make it easy, say I never mattered/Run it up the flag pole/We will teach you how to make boys next door/Out of assholes (Hahaha!)/Tonight, the foxes hunt the hounds/It's all over now

Rat A Tat: LL!Grian and Mumbo (mostly Grian POV)

But I'll take your heart served up two ways/I sing a bitter song/I'm the lonelier version of you/I just don't know where it went wrong

Save Rock And Roll: DL!Pearl

I cried tears you'll never see/So fuck you, you can go cry me an ocean, and leave me be/You are what you love, not who loves you/In a world full of the word 'yes', I'm here to scream/No, no (No, no)/Wherever I go, go (go, go)/Trouble seems to follow

AMERICAN BEAUTY/AMERICAN PSYCHO

Irresistible: SL!Gem and Pearl (Gem POV)

Count me in unannounced, drag my nails on the tile/I just follow your scent/You can't just follow my smile/All of your flaws are aligned with this mood of mine/Cutting me to the bone/Nothing left to leave behind/You ought to keep me concealed just like I was a weapon/I didn't come for a fight but I will fight till the end/This might be your battle, might not turn out okay/You know you look so Seattle, but you feel so LA

American Beauty/American Psycho: LL!Scott

I think I fell in love again/Maybe I just took too much cough medicine/I'm the best worst thing that hasn't happened to you yet/The best worst thing/You take the full, full truth, then you pour some out/You take the full, full truth, then you pour some out/And you can kill me, kill me or let God sort ‘em out

Centuries: LimL!Martyn

And I can't stop 'til the whole world knows my name/Cause I was only born inside my dreams/Until you die for me, as long as there's a light, my shadow's over you/Cause I am the opposite of amnesia

The Kids Aren’t Alright: The Mounders

It twists my head just a bit to think/All those people in those old photographs I've seen are dead/And in the end/I'd do it all again/I think you're my best friend

Uma Thurman: 3L!Cleo

You'll find your way/And may death find you alive/Take me down the line/In Gem City, we turn the tide

Jet Pack Blues: Impulse and Bdubs

Honey, don't you leave/Don't you remember how we used to split a drink?/It never mattered what it was, I think/Our heads were just that close/The sweetness never lasts, you know

Novocaine: Guess what, it's Joel again. I'm not even a Joel main why is this happening.

In the truly gruesome do we trust/I will always land on you like a sucker punch/Singing I am your worst, I am your worst nightmare

Fourth Of July: LL!Lizzie and Cleo (Lizzie POV)

I said I'd never miss you/But I guess you never know/May the bridges I have burned/Light my way back home on the fourth of July/I wish I'd known how much you loved me/I wish I cared enough to know

Favorite Record: Post DL!Jimmy

You were the song stuck in my head/Every song that I've ever loved/Play it again and again and again/And you can get what you want but it's never enough

Immortals: 3L!Grian and Scar

I am the sand in the bottom half of the hourglass, glass (Glass)/(Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh)/Oh, I try to picture me without you, but I can’t/'Cause we could be immortals/Immortals/Just not for long, for long/And live with me forever now/Mmm, pull the blackout curtains down/Just not for long, for long

Twin Skeleton’s (Hotel In NYC): SL!Martyn and Jimmy

I just need enough of you to dull the pain/Just to get me through the night 'till we're twins again/'Til we're stripped down to our skeletons again/'Til we're saints just swimming in our sins again/And there's a jet black crow droning on and on and on/Up above our heads droning on and on and on/Keep making trouble 'til you find what you love/I need a new partner in crime and you, you shrug that

MANIA

Stay Frosty Royal Milk Tea: 3L!Ren

I'm 'bout to go Tonya Harding on the whole world's knee/And I'm stuck, night vision, so stuck, night vision/But I come to life, come to life/Some princes don't become kings/Even at the best of times, I'm out of my mind/You only get what you grieve

The Last Of The Real Ones: Bdubs

My head is stripped, just like a screw that's been tightened too many times/When I think of you, when I think of you/I will shield you from the waves if they find you/I will protect you, I will protect you/Just tell me, tell me, tell me I, I am the only one/Even if it's not true, even if it's not true, yeah

HOLD ME TIGHT OR DON’T: DL+LimL!Etho and Joel

I got too high again, realized I can't not be with you/Or be just your friend, I love you to death, but I just can't/I just can't pretend, we weren't lovers first/Confidants but never friends, were we ever friends?/But when your stitch comes loose, I wanna sleep on/Every piece of fuzz and stuffing that comes out of you/You, I took too many hits off this memory/I need to come down/An-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-nother day goes by/So hold me tight, hold me tight, or don't/Oh n-n-no, no, this isn't how our story ends

Wilson (Expensive Mistakes): LL!Bdubs

There's nothing more cruel than to be loved by everybody but you (but you)/Than to be loved by everybody but you, (but you) but you/If I could get my shit together/I'm gonna run away and never see any of you again/Never see any of you again/I hope the roof flies off and we get blown out into space/I-I always make such expensive mistakes

Church: SL!Lizzie

I love the world/But I just don't love the way it makes me feel/Got a few more fake friends/And it's getting hard to know what's real/And if death is the last appointment/Then we're all just sitting in the waiting room (Mr. Stump?)/I am just a human trying to avoid my certain doom

Heaven’s Gate: LimL!Skizz (right at the end)

I got dreams of my own, but I want to make yours come true/So please come through, honey please, please come through/Oh, go out in the world, start over again and again/As many times as you can

Champion: SL!Pearl

I got rage every day, on the inside/The only thing I do is sit around and kill the time/I'm trying to blow out the pilot light/I'm trying to blow out the light/I'm just young enough to still believe, still believe/But young enough not to know what to believe in/Young enough not to know what to believe/If I can live through this, if I can live through this/If I can live through this, I can do anything

Sunshine Riptide: LL!Scott

The world tried to burn all the mercy outta me/But you know I wouldn't let it/It tried to teach me the hard way, I can't forget it

Young And Menace: LimL!Martyn

We've gone way too fast for way too long/And we were never supposed to make it half this far/And I lived so much life, lived so much life/I think that God is gonna have to kill me twice

Bishops Knife Trick: Bad Boys

I got a feeling inside that I can't domesticate/It doesn't wanna live in a cage, a feeling that I can't housebreak/And I'm yours 'til the earth starts to crumble and the heavens roll/Away, I'm struggling to exist with you and without you, yeah

SO MUCH (FOR) STARDUST

Love From The Other Side: SL!Etho

I'd never go, I just want to be invited, oh, got to give up/Get the feeling, get the feeling, don't fight it, fight it/Sending my love from the other side of the apocalypse/And I just about snapped, don't look back/Every lover's got a little dagger in their hand

Heartbreak Feels So Good: 3L!Grian

Is there a word for bad miracle?/Nobody said the road was endless/Nobody said the climb was friendless/But could we please pretend this won't end?

Hold Me Like A Grudge: DL!Pearl

(You put the "fun" into dysfunction)/Hold me, hold me like a grudge/The world is always spinning, and I can't keep up, woah/Faster and faster, can't do it on my own/Part-time soulmate, full-time problem, yeah/So hold me like a grudge

Fake Out: SL!Lizzie

But I didn't take the love when I had the chance/But I swear I'm not sad anymore/So make no plans and none can be broken/No plans and none can be broken/Do you laugh about me whenever I leave?/Or do I still need more therapy?

Heaven, Iowa: 3L!Scar

And they don't know how much they’ll miss/At least until you're gone like this/Talking to the mirror, say, "Save your breath/Half your life you've been hooked on death"

So Good Right Now: DL!Bdubs

And I know, I know I've made mistakes, yeah/And I know, I know, but at least they were mine to make/They were mine to make/And all of our wildest dreams, they just end up with a-you and me/So, let's drive until the engine just gives out

The Pink Seashell: Ok, I cannot pull a lyric for this because it is the world’s most specific monologue, but the general message of it (“Life is a lottery and bad shit happens all the time, so might as well find happiness in the good things, even the small things.”) feels like it could be Skizz. Just trust me. This one is so fucking difficult.

I Am My Own Muse: LimL!Jimmy

Here I am, not sure you should take a chance/I like playin' dumb, lettin' you figure me out/But I was faded, in my own defense/So, drop a bomb on all the things we dreamed about

Flu Game: SL!Joel

Last night I dreamt I still knew you/You/I carved out a place in this world for two/But it's empty without you/I got all this love I've got to keep to myself/All this effort to make it look effortless

Baby Annihilation: Scott

The first time I took the mask off, just had another one on underneath

The Kintsugi Kid (Ten Years): LimL+ SL!Martyn (but mostly LimL)

Passed my old street, the house I grew up in/It breaks your heart, but four of the Ramones are dead/I felt you at the beginning, but needed you at the end/We're goin' low, low, low, low

What A Time To Be Alive: SL!Bigb

When, when, when I said, "Leave me alone", this isn't quite what I meant/I got the quarantine blues, bad news, what's left?/So, it seems the vulture's gettin' too full to fly, oh/What a time to be alive

So Much (For) Stardust: Ren

I'm in a winter mood, dreamin' of spring now/Burnin' myself down, burnin' myself down, burnin'/I feel like something that's been stretched out over and over again/Until I'm creased, and I'm about to break down the middle/Split me right down the middle, right, right down the middle, yeah

[spock-smokes-weed]

The Kenobi show is like fine, but I’m screaming and crying over the fact that it could have been great, if they had focused on what makes Obi-Wan a compelling character to begin with.

They touch on it, there are a lot of scenes that touch on his grief, guilt, pain, and sadness, but it takes a back seat to the milk toast plot.

The main crux of the plot isn’t even that bad. Sad old man Obi-Wan having to protect baby Leia? Amazing. Show stopping. No notes. However Leia and Obi-Wan feel kind of secondary, even if they are important characters.

Like it shouldn’t have been a plot driven show, it should have been character driven. My biggest gripe is that it feels less than the sum of its parts, and that it feels afraid to really pull anything from the prequels and the clone wars.

I understand the impulse to make the show beginner friendly, but a legacy character focused show literally can’t do that. You can’t make an obi-wan show beginner friendly without making obi-wan feel flat. Obi-Wan has already had decades of life before we see him on Tatooine. He’s had over a decade of life with Anakin, and if the show is about Obi-Wan’s relationship with Anakin’s children, then it should have really dug into the meat of that relationship and exactly why Obi-Wan mourns so heavily over Anakin.

Stop with the vagueness!!! If you’re an obi-wan show actually dig into the psyche of this pathetic old man. Use more from the prequels and clone wars than just small references I’m BEGGING.

Like after watching the show, I couldn’t help but think about the original idea for the show having Darth Maul as the main villain. And while I love Reva, and she was absolutely one of the best parts of the show, I wish they stuck to the original idea. I’m not exactly sure how it being Maul would have played out, since I know he’s in Rebels, however I love the idea of the villain being an Obi-Wan specific villain. I get that Vader is kinda that, but Maul and Obi-Wan have a history together and if you wanted it to be more character driven, having someone dangerous directly from Obi-Wan’s past come back to haunt him would have been so good.

I KNOW that’s what they were trying to do with the inquisitors and Vader, but Vader was seriously weak sauce. Like the way he was utilized in the plot. I wouldn’t even want to cut Reva, I just wished her and Obi-Wan’s plots and journeys meshed better and they had more personal connection. I wished they got to interact more as characters. 

And even tho I though the freedom fighter characters were fun, they should have absolutely been cut. Obi-Wan is a sleepy old man, he doesn’t need to be involved with these elaborate networks. All the characters felt like they should have been in a different show, it did not mesh with Obi-Wan’s established vibe of laying low. They threw in a reference to Quinlan as an oooooooo look clone wars fans, look we mentioned a character you know. But afterwards it just got me thinking: why didn’t they just use Quinlan in the show. Like I think if you replaced all the freedom fighter characters with just Quinlan, the show would have been a lot smoother, and it would give us an other character for Obi-Wan to talk about the past with. Quinlan can even mention the net work of ppl out there trying to help force sensitive ppl, but I think it would have been far more impactful to bring in another Jedi character we already know and love to share their perspective on life post-order 66 and living under the empire. The show should have been quiet and characters focused but it wasn’t and I just AHHHHHH

I also think the show should have buffed out the roles of the Organas and the Lars. Obi-Wan’s relationship with the twins, filtered through the lens of his relationship to their parental figures was soooo interesting. I wanted more of it. Also Owen Lars is objectively the most interesting character in Star Wars and he deserves to have more screen time. 

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary217

4/19-20/2024

friday - saturday

i think my broken shoes are actually fine basically, i snapped them back together.

glue would be nice but it can wait it seems like. just need to be a little more careful with them.

what i can't stand today, or i guess it's a couple things, i cut my bangs and i think they're at least even now but too high but blehh whatever they will grow out and stuff or i hope they will and they'll look how i want but really i can't stand these fucking bugs in the house i can't take it anymore there are too many it's just an infestation and i can't do anything about it i really really don't know what to do to keep them away from us, they've just been here and i can't do anything other than kill them, spray this essential oil stuff at the areas i think they're living in / near and stuff but they're just, there's so many, there are so many young, i must have killed over 10 today. i just really feel like i can't live here anymore or something i can't deal with this i can't stop thinking i'm seeing them on food and things and i feel like i need to throw so much out. i want to die.

i seriously can't stop thinking about how it would be so much better to just die or hurt myself so i stop thinking about them so much i keep imagining them and stuff little black dots all over the floor disappearing as soon as i can focus any better. maybe i am crazy and stuff but it's so awful i feel helpless and i can';t do anything, i am just like fucked or something. this place feels so impossible to clean and i work and i can't do anything about it. i don't want to be in the kitchen because they're in there, they have to be living on all the motor parts of the fridge and stuff and i hate hate hate it.

i hope my bangs are cute when i do them and stuff tomorrow. i feel so awful. i probably deserve it or something.

i am listening to my album now at least, to see how i feel about it. 3 songs in so far, i like it, everything is feeling pretty right up to then at least.

i will put my notes here

track 4 feels slightly unbalanced, i should lower the guitar synth + reg synth in the chorus + the crashes/hats/stuff (all by somewhere from 1 to 3 db), and then unity gain up that instrumental track, maybe boost vox a touch too (probably only around 1db).

track 5 might need an added vocal take to make a transition part in it less awkward? but sounds good i m o... i do need to add some brightness to the vox, a little extra high end i suppose...

need to bump vocals on track 8 (by like 2-3 db honestly) + make space for the kick, probably just bump it as well? sounds very right though.

too much sibilance in track 13, need to tame that + reintroduce some mids back into the vocal mix. + bump vocals too.

track 14, maybe add some gain to the instrumental while lowering guitars a touch (1db maybe).

track 17, needs space for kick, need to get the guitars to have more low-mid content maybe, cut some of that from the bass? idk. seems mostly there.

track 18 is one of the problem tracks, but it sounds a lot better, maybe one issue is that i need the kicks to be a bit higher, so i can cut the bass a touch maybe, it kinda 'hovers in a weird way, the song could also be too loud, maybe, so i can lower the gain on the mastering chain on .. the master track , whoa ...

track 19 maybe could use some of the unity gain stuff i've been doing, but the guitars are kind of where i want, maybe it's the bass i have to lower here, but like, 1 db, both of the basses i use i think,,, huhmmm, that seems like a good idea tbh, the bass is a little monstrous but it does sound really good, i want it to be pretty prominent.

track 20 needs to be re-exported cuz i left one thing on solo, whoops, but what's there is kind of a mess maybe, the guitar sound could have too many low mids, i could shelf that out but like, 1db maybeee, that would be good.

track 23 i think i might want to try a different amp sim / impulse on the guitars to see what happens, could be very useful for me t b h.

track 25 i might need to do the unity gain stuff, guitars down by 1-2db i think, and then master instrumental up. bass down too maybe in that case but less than the guitar sounds.

track 27 guitars down, rest up in unity, by 2-3 db i think. bass too w/ that maybe but idk, raise vocals too if i do that but i think i like this one a lot, it just needs some more volume to be more legible i think.

track 29, i need to boost bass a little.

so 12 little changes here, that's a lot less than i expected, and they're also all a lot less messy seeming to work w/ than i thought.

i am glad i am liking it more this listen, i know i oscillate a lot but it's really nice for now, i guess i need some kind of bright spot today. not that today has been terrible it's just i wanted to be able to relax, focus on other stuff, but i couldn't. i am just too unstable becuz of work, because i get so fried from it i guess.

anyway i need to sleep soon, so

byebye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[husbandohunter]

You know ur small predicament post?? you should make a reverse version where s/o is smaller!

A Smaller Predicament [Genshin Impact x Smol!Reader]

Characters: Scaramouche, Diluc, Kaeya, Childe, Xiao, Zhongli, Albedo

Synopsis: Not only did you shrink, you went pocket sized as well!

(A sequel to "A Small Predicament")

(A/n): Sorry for the long wait anon, and I kind of added a twist to the scenario for more diversity hahaha hope you don't mind >_<. And why is Childe the poster boy for this series lmao.

------------

Childe

When Childe walks in, he doesn't see you....until he looked down. He almost crunched you beneath his feet if it weren't for your constant flailing of arms and screeching voice. He blanks out for a hot minute as you clung onto his toes, doesn't dare to move an inch because he's so petrified (even though there's nothing to be afraid of??). But honestly if Childe moved right now, he might accidentally flail you to the side and that's the last thing he wants.

"WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU??" He screamed so loud it nearly blew you out of proportion. Seems like he's going to have alot of adjusting to do. Childe is a tall man (canonically the tallest) and he knows how impulsive he can get which is why he bought a handmade dollhouse from one of the Liyue merchants for you to stay in.

Though there's something about your tiny size that makes his heart flutter. With your face so small with a pair of eyes far too big, *clutches chest* "My oujo-chan is so cute" -Childe probably. He won't stop saying them over again and you were growing tired of his gushing reactions. He can't help it. He wants to spoil you rotten. You fit right onto the flat of his palms, the way you just snuggle up againts his finger and he just- swoons, might tear up (bruh).

Toys may be for kids but for Childe it was now his favourite pass time. While you navigate around the wooden dollhouse, he pitches in by moving around the furniture to make it easier for you. Offers to carry you through the rooms like a personal elevator. And please, please let him tuck you to bed. He has to pinch his fingers to grab the blanket. It's so adorable to him.

Loves it when you snuggle up against his collar. He thinks it would be the best area for you to be nearby him since the risk of you getting hit by anything (or him) by accident is very slim chance. Sometimes he pulls up his collar so that you're more comfortable and cradled within. He would have to avert his eyes down rather than turning his head if he wanted to look at you otherwise you'd be hit by his chin and that would hurt.

The poking sensation with you by his neck can bother him since he's veeeery tickilish there. Plus, Childe can get easily sweaty so have fun with that.

You have a feeling that he wasn't so pleased when you transformed back. You might be right. Actually, you are right. He secretly has an extra potion hidden somewhere...just in case.

Diluc

Mortified, his soul just left his body. To think things couldn't get any worse ever since he turned into a child to the point no one took him seriously, now you're literally the size of an apple. Oh god what if his bird suddenly swoops in and gobbles you right up? Or the wrath of the wind comes by, swirling you away towards a tornado. Needless to say, Diluc grew paranoid over your well-being ever since.

Due to your extremely small size, he will ensure that you are supervised by him (except at night where he has places to go). In otherwords, you're slipped into the inner pocket of his coat. It's super warm, you can fall asleep (and feel his heartbeat awww). Diluc doesn't like keeping you in places where people can see you, it would be too easy for outer things to access your tiny form (or maybe he secretly likes the feeling of you in his pocket.)

And he's such a gentleman about it. You noticed how careful he moves among his footsteps because he's worried that you might get dizzy. Diluc guards the pocket at close parameter, keeping an eye on things so he won't bump into them. As if he was treading on thin ice (you even suggested it was best to leave you home but he's too overprotective for his own good).

You're like his little assistant. Diluc does so much paperwork through out the day and although the act was small, he finds it endearing how you would help bring the papers back to it's rightful pile or pushing the ink bowl towards him. Or during his shifts at Angel's Share, crawling around the glass utensils and trying to find a specific wine beverage on his shelf. Of course that only happens when the shop is closed, how is he going to explain to his patrons that you shrank and now live in his pocket?

He dislikes the thought of you wandering too far. It's so easy for you to get lost especially when the mansion is so large.

At night you now sleep atop the fluff of the pillow. Diluc is a calm sleeper so he won't have to worry about hitting into you. However he radiates warmth so you just subconicously roll towards to his face. He usually wakes up with you sprawled over his nose. He can hardly breath (careful, he might just sneeze too).

This all happened because of the experiements you participated with Albedo. Diluc ensures that doesn't happen again. It will take some tencaious effort to convince him otherwise.

Scaramouche

Fuck this guy. He treats you like his new pet, a new toy (though you technically are one). He has this arrogant, smug and sadistic look as if he was a predator looking at his prey and grabs you by the collar before dangling you up in the air.

"Hmph, looks like the tables have turned," he says while toying with your state. You tell him he's just angry because he's short himself and mad that everyone else in the Fatui organization is taller than him. Scaramouche demon face activated. He's about to devour you. (Maybe you should keep your mouth shut this time. Honestly your relationship with him is pretty weird).

His hat is so fun to play with. You'd swing around like Tarzan using the strings that were hanging from it. His head was your playground now which annoys him to an enourmous extent because it makes him look ridiculous. Scaramouche will have a hard time catching you since you move around so much. Climb around him, especially the back of his neck. He'll start wheezing when you tickle him there.

The type to put you in a box but also the type to keep you on his shoulders. Being relied on makes him feel taller (lmfao). Scaramouche seemse to have developed a habit to poke your cheeks whenever he needed your attention and you bit him back once when he pushed too hard that you nearly fell off. Despite your size, your teeth still hurt. He threatens to put you back into the box if you don't behave and the outcome ends with a full out brawl as he tries to grab you again while you run around, pulling the strands of his hair to climb on top of his hat. (This is literally Tom and Jerry wtf.)

After transforming back, he outwardly admits his disappointmen. Scaramouche says it suits you better (when he actually meant that he highly prefers you small). You marked his words, keeping an extra vial for your own entertainment in the near future.

Xiao

Xiao was face-palming against his forehead real hard about this. For the love of Rex Lapis, what kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into this time? First it was the child incident, now you're the size of his finger? Good grief, looks like he will have to keep an eye on you from now on but at the same time he's scared to get too close, you are nothing but a tiny mortal in which he would have to double his effort to look after.

He lets you sit at the crown of his head rather than anywhere else. You insisted since it was easier to see everything at a nice distance (plus he's short so you won't have to worry about him bumping into door frames). You noticed that Xiao also has a little strand sticking out from the center (ahoge) and you sometimes grab onto it for stability. Turns out he's quite sensitive there and winces when you pull too hard.

For the remaining week as the antedote was being prepared, Xiao became extremely aggressive over your well-being, he looks as if he's ready to massacre everything in his way...which he did. Clears out the monsters off the path before going on daily strolls with you, you wouldn't have to lift a finger from now on. No one except for him is allowed to hold you unless they're a trustworthy person. You could feel his sharp eyes glued on you like a hawk when walking into the grasp of Zhongli's hand.

You once accidentally tripped into his almond tofu when he wasn't looking and he almost ate you. Turns out being small made his job as your gaurdian ten times harder (especially when you're the clumsy type). If you were to fall off the table, he would have to catch you right? Xiao often bumps into furnitures in the process...ouch!

He's very soft. It's all over his forehead, his mouth, his eyes. When he looks at you, his tense eatures melted away and there's an invisible fondness over them as he cradles you in his palm. The way you snuggle in them is lke the most precious thing in the world.

When you turn back, there's a wave of relief. He was really stressed out you know?

Zhongli

His first thought is to get you as far as he can from the Funeral Parlour before Hu Tao finds you. Who knows what that child might have in mind. Zhongli takes one of his empty tea pots and urges you to go inside, or carries a tea cup with you in it, he likes placing you on objects while carrying you around.

Zhongli realizes that you can no longer use the household items like before so he has to remake them to your standards- especially when he realized he doesn't have the mora to buy you a dollhouse. He improvises. Takes a handkerchief to make your blanket, his cups for your bathtub, Zhongli had to cut the foot into byte-sized too. But in terms of clothes, well he had to make them as well. Living thousands of years would mean he would have lot of experience. Sewing was one of them luckily. But that would mean he has to take your measurements as well. In the end, most of the things he made were dresses since they were alot easier.

You like to sneak in between his shirt and his vest tucked behind the coat he wears. Unfortunately Zhongli doesn't seem to have visible pockets (most likely the reason why he doesn't carry mora either), though if you don't hold on tight you might just slip down his vest and right to his stomach. It makes him chuckle when that happens even if the amount of effort to get you out took more than he thought since his attire is quite complicated to put on. If you really want to climb on him, he'll find a seperate pouch (but realizes it won't be a good idea when there's alot of pick-pocketers in Liyue streets).

All of a sudden he reads you bedtime stories. It's some sort of inner instinct that tells him he's taking care of a child now (he's right though). You realized that his voice was equivalent to a thunder's roar due to size difference. He would have to whisper now.

It will always be part of his precious memories when you turned pocket-sized. Zhongli still keeps the clothing he made somewhere in his closets too.

Kaeya

Amused by this eventful situation. Absolutely thrilled! He's not evil like Scaramouche but this new version of his s/o is both adorable and fun at the same time. You're so easy to tickle, just one poke using his finger against your hips makes you yelp. Sometimes he twirls your hair or taps your forehead gently despite your protest, he's so handsy like always in an affectionate yet annoying way.

Kaeya picks you up and places you among the fluffy comfort of his feathery scarf. You sneezed, the last time he cleaned it was before he went on a mission with the knights. Though you have to admit, it's the best feeling in the world. It's so soft you might sink deeper into the fabric. He likes to put you in places where he can talk to you easily, sometimes on the table while he downs on his wine. Normally you have to take the bottle away before it gets too much, now you have to push it away which he finds very entertaining at your futile attempts.

"Don't you have anything better to do?" you tell him. Since you turned byte-sized, he can't seem to stop playing around. Takes his two fingers and pretends they're legs walking across the surface. You would turn around and he halts, Kaeya sends you his signature grin. When he promises that he wouldn't do anything funny, you would let him hold you. Since hugs are out of the equation, Kaeya gives you his finger instead to wrap your arms around. He can't get enough seeing you like this, things he couldn't do when you were normal-sized. he enjoys your reactions way too much.

His favourite pass time is helping you brush your hair because the hairbursh is too big for you to handle. Kaeya ensure he's handling things delicately but he would love to help style it for you as well. Pretty please? At this point one request turns to another because he's having way too much fun. But it couldn't be helped since you would need his assistance in almost everything so there's really no escaping.

You were so happy when things were normal again but Kaeya would bring this up again during your conversations (how next time he would like to put you in his drinks while you're wearing a swim suit).

Albedo

Legit blurted out if he could put you on a hamster wheel.

What about trying out the little maze he just made?

Or participating in a race against slimes of different elements?

No? Okay, then he'll just turn you back.

Albedo isn't going deal with this as along as he can help it (especially when he remembers what Klee did to him when he turned small.)

[hpimaginesandblurbs]

PLEASEE we need a part 2 of Draco arranged marriage smut with preg readerr😩❕

mixed with this request: hey, can i request a combo of smut, angst, fluff draco x fem reader where she’s his wife, but draco’s been very busy lately and she needs him, she thinks he doesn’t find her attractive anymore because they hadn’t had sex in a long time, but draco tells her that he still loves her and make love to her? sorry if this is weird, and only if you’re comfortable. anyways have a good day

pairing: draco malfoy x reader

word count: 2.5k

warning(s): 18+, pregnant!reader, mentions of negative body image, mentions of weight gain, oral (female receiving), breast play, pregnant sex

a/n: this is actually part 3 to the arranged marriage draco series, so feel free to read the other two before this one if you haven't already! i love these ones so much. also my fbi agent probably thinks i'm a really kinky pregnant lady based on my search history while writing this but oh well.

part 1 / part 2 

It had been almost two years since your arranged marriage to Draco Malfoy and a lot had changed since then.

Firstly, you two were very much happily in love. Your engagement and the first two weeks of your marriage had been awkward and tense, leading you to find pleasure in the arms of your ex. After an impulsive move to admit your mistake to Draco on the very same day, mixed in with some aggressive sex, you two had decided to give your relationship a real shot. It was the best decision either of you had ever made. And now, two years later, you could happily and honestly say it was a real marriage filled with love.

Secondly, Draco had fully taken over as the sole leader of the Malfoy’s family business. You still weren’t entirely sure what the business entailed even after he had explained it to you a dozen times, but you were still proud of him. He worked hard and that hard work was all for you and your growing family.

Oh, right.

The biggest change in your lives has been your pregnancy. It wasn’t exactly planned but it wasn’t exactly an accident either. The two of you had simply decided to let fate decide, and fate was deciding now. You were six months in and you were really beginning to show. It wasn’t the bump that was the problem, but your husband's reaction. Or non-reaction. You understood he was busy with work and more than likely tired when he finally made it to bed, but he had barely touched you over the past few weeks other than small kisses. You knew he loved you, there was no doubting that, but you were starting to have your doubts about his attraction towards you.

Which led to the current situation unfolding in your bedroom.

“Why are you wearing that to bed? You never wear that much clothing to go to sleep,” Draco asked, his face laced with concern as he stripped from his work clothes near the bottom of the bed.

You almost wanted to roll your eyes. Or scream. Because of course he noticed. He noticed everything. You settled on giving him a non committed shrug, but of course he wasn’t having any of that either.

He quickly rounded to the bed to sit down beside you. “Are you feeling alright?” He asked, already bringing his hand up to feel your forehead.

You quickly pushed his hand away and this time you couldn’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes. “I feel fine,” you replied shortly, praying that he wouldn’t keep pestering you about it.

In truth, you were wearing a full set of pajamas to bed because you just didn’t feel attractive wearing your usual over sized shirts or skimpy, small sets anymore. You knew, rationally, that most of it was in your head, but his lack of libido for you lately wasn’t helping you feel much better about your current weight gain.

“Why all the clothing, then? Are you cold? I can turn the heat up if you’d like,” Draco continued, but he stood back up to continue changing.

“Draco, I said I was fine,” you insisted, barely keeping the annoyance out of your voice.

“Do you have a sexy set of lingerie underneath that you want me to find?” He asked, playfully now.

You scoffed. “Not that you’d fuck me if I did anyways,” you whispered under your breath.

But of course he heard you.

“What was that?” He asked, spinning back around to face you, his shirt half unbuttoned and his tie around his neck. Damn him for looking so good.

“I know you heard me. Don’t make me repeat it,” you replied coldly, rolling over so you didn’t have to face him any more.

“Y/N,” he called, trying to get your attention, trying to get you to turn back around. Once he realized that wouldn’t work, he rounded the bed so he could see your face. “Why do you think that?” He asked calmly, but you could see the desperate confusion all over his face.

“‘Why do I think that?’” You mocked, the question riling you up enough to force you to sit up. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you haven’t touched me in weeks. I know I’ve gained weight and I know I’m probably starting to look like a whale but-”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he cut you off, swiftly climbing onto the bed so he could be closer to you. “Darling, please calm down,” he pleaded softly, gently dragging you onto his lap so he could hold you. You let him move you easily, but you were still uneasy. He held you close and waited for you to calm down a bit and get settled before he started.

“First of all, you don’t look like a whale so let’s get that out of the way. You never have and you never will no matter how big this baby gets. You’re growing a child inside of you, darling. Please don’t be so hard on yourself for something you’re supposed to be doing right now,” he told you, absentmindedly stroking your growing belly. It was a new quirk he had picked up once you started showing - either of you started talking about the baby and suddenly his hand was on your stomach. The familiarity of the movement put you at ease and you leaned further into him.

“Secondly, I haven’t initiated anything because you were telling me how tired you’ve been. I didn’t want to push you into something you didn’t want or end up hurting you or the baby, so I didn’t try anything. I realize now that that was a mistake, because I hate that I made you feel this way, darling. I should have just asked. But please trust me when I tell you I’ve wanted you every day, same as it’s always been and always will be. Merlin, the past few weeks I’ve been going to bed and waking up hard enough to pound nails,” he admitted sheepishly, causing you to giggle.

Even the thought of him being hard had you clit throbbing and your body perking up. The past few weeks had left you desperate and aching despite the fatigue and other pregnancy symptoms wreaking havoc on your body. Despite the seriousness of the conversation, you wanted him now.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He finally asked, cutting off your train of thought.

You debated lying or even brushing off the question, but you knew he wouldn’t drop it unless he was certain you were being honest. Serious conversations called for honest responses.

“A couple of reasons I guess. You work hard all day and I know you’re tired by the time we get to bed, so I felt bad asking. And with the thoughts I was having it didn’t even really seem worth it to try anything because I thought you’d just shut me down,” you confessed, not even daring to look up at him.

“Darling, the day I say no to sex with you is the day my cock doesn’t work,” he said with a chuckle, but his hand came up to grab you under the chin to turn your head to face him. “I think you’re beautiful, Y/N. I have since the day I met you and everyday since. I don’t call you ‘my pretty girl’ for no reason. If you wanted me to make you feel good, you could have just asked me.”

You gave him a small smile, your first genuine one all day. But you jumped at the opportunity. “Even right now?” You asked bashfully, referencing the less-than-sexy pajamas you were wearing.

He didn’t even bother giving you an answer. On your next breath, he was pulling you into a heated kiss that you have been waiting weeks for. You both have been waiting if his enthusiasm was anything to go by.

Gently, so gently as if you might break if he was any rougher, he moved you both until you were laying flat on your back without breaking the kiss once. In mere moments he was stripping you bare, removing your layers until you were finally exposed to him. He didn’t give you a moment to be insecure, though.

“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he murmured, his dark eyes trailing over every inch of your body. You might have thought he was just feeding you compliments if you didn’t see the utter rapture in his eyes, but his look of lust was unmistakable.

You were breathless just from the way he was looking at you, equally stunned and turned on by the way he was devouring you with his eyes. But when he immediately ducked down to lick a harsh trail up your soaked slit, a moan of pleasure got ripped from your throat without hesitation. After weeks of nothing but self inflicted torture, feeling his tongue on you was an otherworldly experience.

“Fuck, I missed this,” he murmured against your aching clit before unleashing himself on you like a starving man. He started on your clit, giving it kitten licks and sucking it in between his lips until your legs were shaking. Eventually, he made his way down to your entrance to fuck you with his tongue, making you writhe against the sheets and practically scream his name.

“Cum for me, pretty girl. I can feel how close you are,” he demanded, his lips a caress against your sensitive skin as he worked you closer and closer to your release with his tongue.

He sucked your clit into his mouth one last time, and that was your undoing. You came with a scream, your back arching obscenely as wave upon wave of pleasure coursed through your body. Despite not having made you cum in weeks, your husband certainly did not disappoint. You doubted he ever would.

You could feel Draco staring at you as you came down from your high, and when you cracked your eyes open you were just as transfixed as he looked. His usually perfect hair was a mess, sticking up in odd places from the way you had mused your fingers through his locks. His lips were swollen and wet, in equal measure from the kisses you had been sharing and his exquisite ministrations on your still throbbing cunt. And his eyes were dark with lust, staring into yours like you held the answer to every question he ever had.

“Did that feel good, darling?” He cooed, his hands trailing possessively up your body as he raised himself to hover above you.

“I want more,” you told him honestly as he took your tender breasts in his hands, tweaking your nipples just to force a whine out of you.

“Keep making those pretty noises and we might be here all night,” he said with a smirk, his head ducking down to suck on the nipples he had just been playing with.

It felt so much better than it usually did, probably thanks to how sore they were. His tongue was soothing every inch of you and every movement caused another pulse of pleasure to go directly to your clit.

“Fuck, I think I can cum like this,” you gasped, pulling his head impossibly closer to your chest.

With graceful ease he doubled down on his actions, licking and sucking on your nipples with fervor as he slipped a hand down to play with your clit. Your body was in sensory overload as he worked you closer and closer to the edge, never once stopping what he was doing just to get you there.

You arched your back, suffocating him with your breasts as you reached your peak. Your cunt clenched around nothing as he worked you through it, his own moans vibrating against your sensitive nipples.

Draco wasted no time in stripping the second your breathing evened out, settling himself in the cradle of your thighs once he was back on the bed at lightning speed.

“Tell me if it’s too much. I don’t know how gentle I can be right now,” he said softly, a warning you’d probably ignore because you needed him inside of you just as badly as he did right now.

You could only nod back, your voice caught in your throat in anticipation. In one swift movement, he was buried inside you to the hilt, both of you giving strangled moans at the sensation.

He started slow, letting your body readjust to his impressive length and girth. You weren’t even sure which noises were yours and which were his, but you did know you were fighting not to roll your eyes back in your head in order to watch him work. He was clearly holding back, but his impeccable self control was shattering as he thrust inside of you.

You knew just how to break him.

“Fuck me like you mean it. Draco, please. I want to feel it in the morning,” you whined, your voice breathy from just his slow movements. You knew you’d be helpless to your own desire once he broke, but you knew it would be worth it.

He took a moment to look at you, an assessing gaze in his eyes. It was sweet that he didn’t want to hurt you, but that’s not what you needed or wanted right now. Far from it, really. He must have liked what he saw because from one breath to the next, you were screaming his name.

His next thrust was brutal, deep and hard just the way you were craving. You knew neither of you would last long like this, not with all the pent up arousal, but it was worth it to feel the powerful movements of his hips as he ruined you.

Despite his lack of control, he was still meticulous in the way he tore you apart. Slowly, he dipped his head down once more to suck a nipple into his mouth. Your back arched as you writhed under him, only pushing his cock deeper inside of you. Once you felt his fingers on your clit, you knew you were done for.

The world was a blur as your climax hit you, your vision and hearing almost nonexistent as he fucked you through it. It was only when you heard Draco let out his own ragged, breathless moan that you felt your body falling back into place underneath him while he released deep inside of you.

You both stayed like that for a time, your bodies still joined and close as you both came back down to earth. It felt almost impossible to catch your breath, but when he pulled out and wrapped you in his arms you felt your entire body settle into him. The silence that fell over the room was peaceful and content, but a stark contrast from what it had been mere minutes ago.

“Go to sleep, pretty girl. I’m staying home tomorrow and at this rate it’s doubtful we’ll ever make it out of bed,” he finally said, his promise coming with a smirk you couldn’t see from your angle but you knew was dancing across his face.

“I like the sound of that,” you conceded, slowly succumbing to the sleep you desperately needed after that, but the last thought you had before sleep took you was that you had never felt more loved, more cherished, more beautiful than right now in his arms.

[feanorianethicsdepartment]

Alright, I read your recent post and need to know - what is your interpretation of Maglor’s relationship with the twins?

askjdhslkjag my biggest self-inflicted problem in this fandom is that my take on maglor, elrond, and elros' relationship is so intensely detailed and specific i am forever tormented by none of the fic i read ever quite getting it right (from my perspective; i’ve read plenty of fic that presents a good interpretation on their own terms, it’s just never mine.) it’s simultaneously way darker than the fluffy kidnap dads stuff and nowhere near as black-and-white awful as the anti-fëanorian crowd likes to paint it, it’s messy and complicated and surrounded by darkness, and yet there’s also a sincere connection within it which mostly serves to make all those complications worse. angry teenage elrond is angry for a great many reasons, and the circumstances around him being raised by kinslayers account for at least half of them. there’s lots of complexity here, and i don’t see it in fic nearly as often as i’d like

(warning: the post... feathers? i already have an internet friend called faeiri this could be awkward - anyway, the post she’s talking about includes the line ‘everyone is wrong about kidnap dads except me.’ this post follows on from that in being as much a commentary about why various popular interpretations of both how the kidnapdoption went and the way people subsequently characterise the twins just don’t work for me as it is a setting out of my own ideas. i’m not really interested in getting into discourse here, i’m just trying to get my thoughts down. i’ve read fic with these interpretations before that i’ve liked, even, don’t take this as a Condemnation, aight? also this turned out long as hell, so i’m putting it under a cut)

i can never buy entirely fluffy depictions of kidnap dads

which isn’t to say i don’t read them! sometimes all i want is something sweet, for these kids to get to be happy for once. it’s not like i think their time with the fëanorians was completely devoid of laughter

it’s just. the pet names, the special days out, the home-cooked meals, it can get so treacly it stops feeling like the characters they are in the situation they’re in and turns into Generic Found Family #272

it soaks out all the complexity - which is the thing i am here for - and acts like oh, these kids were never in any danger, they were perfectly happy being abducted by the people who murdered everyone they knew, there’s nothing possibly questionable about this relationship at all

and... yeah. that’s not the characters i know. that’s not the context i know they belong to

i just can’t forget the circumstances that led them to meet

rivers of blood, the air filled with screams, a town ablaze, a woman choosing to die. every interaction the three of them have is going to proceed from that nightmare

(sidenote: i tend to hold it was maglor that raised the twins, with maedhros looming ominously in the background not really getting involved. it’s mostly personal preference, i’ve been in and out of the fandom since before this kidnap dads thing blew up and when i joined that was a perfectly standard reading)

(also the cave thing was a dumb idea, old man, if only because it implies beleriand had streams safe enough for children to play in at that point. the way it separates the twins from the third kinslaying is also something i don’t particularly vibe with)

probably my least favourite angle i’ve seen on the situation (edged out only by ‘maglor was actively abusive towards the twins’ which no no no no no no no no NO) is the idea that maglor (and/or maedhros, append as necessary) took the twins specifically to raise them

like, i get where it’s coming from, but it makes maglor come off as really creepy

(i have read fics where it is indeed played off as really creepy, but that’s not a maglor i have any interest in reading about)

(’mags 100% bad’ is just as facile a take to me as ‘mags 100% good’)

even if you’re saying maglor took them in because they had no one left to take care of them - i highly doubt they were the only children the fëanorians orphaned at sirion. idk, it always makes maglor seem much less sympathetic than i think it’s meant to

i prefer to think of it as more... organic? something that evolved, not something that was preordained. them growing closer gradually, the twins finding an adult who might maybe be on their side, maglor becoming invested in them almost by accident

and then the twins are so comfortable with the second scariest monster in amon ereb they frequently sass him off and maglor’s gotten so used to not hurting them he’s not even thinking about it any more. no one’s quite sure how it happened, but they’ve made a Connection

‘wait aren’t they a murderous warlord of questionable mental stability and a pair of terrified small children who’ve lost everyone they ever knew? isn’t that kinda fucked up?’ yup! that’s the point! complexity!

another idea i don’t like is the idea that maglor was an objectively better parent to the twins than eärendil or elwing

other people have talked about this already, i won’t rehash the whole thing. i will say that while i don’t think elwing was a perfect parent - someone so young, in such a horrible situation, i wouldn’t blame her for screwing up - i do think she (and eärendil) did the best by them they possibly could

this is one of the few things they have in common with maglor

something i come across now and again is the idea that sure, elwing and eärendil weren’t abusive or horrible or anything, but they were a couple of basically-teenagers with so many other responsibilities, there was only so much they could do. maglor, on the other hand, is an experienced adult who could take much better care of the twins

and...

first off, it’s not like mags doesn’t have a job. he’s a warlord, he has a fortress to help run, military shit to handle, lots of other stuff that needs to get done to stop everyone from starving or getting eaten by orcs. i feel like sirion had enough of a government there was plenty of opportunity for elwing to take days off and play with her kids, but in the fëanorian camp nobody really has the time to chase after a couple of toddlers, least of all one of the last points on the command network. they just don’t have the people any more

(seriously, the twins getting a formal education with tutors and classes and shit is a weirdly specific pet peeve of mine. this is a band of renegades, not a royal household; if there’s anyone left with those kinds of skills they almost certainly have more important things to do)

more than that, though - well, a quick glance through my late stage fëanorians tag should tell you a lot about what i think maglor’s mental state is like at this point. he is so accustomed to violence death means nothing to him, he’s lost most of his capacity for genuinely positive emotion to an endless century of defeat and despair, he hates everything in the universe, especially himself, he’s only able to keep functioning through a truly astounding amount of denial, and he covers it all up with a layer of snark and feigned apathy, which he defends aggressively because he’s subconsciously realised that if it breaks he’ll have absolutely nothing left

(maedhros, for the record, is... i’d say more stable, but at a lower point. maglor may interact with the world mostly through cold stares and mocking laughter, but at least his mind is firmly rooted in the present)

(on the other hand, at least maedhros lets himself be aware of what they are and where their road will lead)

which... this doesn’t mean maglor doesn’t try to be kind to the twins, or rein in his worst impulses around them

there’s just so little of him left but the weapon

he stalks through the halls like a portent of death and gets into hours-long screaming matches with maedhros and has definitely killed people in front of the twins

not even as, like, a deliberate attempt to scare them, but because when you solve most of your problems by stabbing them it’s pretty much a given that people who spend a lot of time around you are going to see you do it at least once

and sometimes, he curls up in an empty hallway, and weeps

... suffice it to say i don’t think elwing’s the more preoccupied, or the less mentally ill, parent here

just. in general, the fëanorians aren’t cackling boogeymen, but they’re not particularly nice either

no one has the energy left for that. not these isolated and weary soldiers at the end of a long losing war and the beginning of the end of the world. they don’t really bother to guard the kids against them escaping. where else are they going to go?

the sheer despair that must have been in the fëanorian camp after sirion, the knowledge that the cause cannot be fulfilled, that they are utterly forsaken, that they’re really just waiting to die -

it can’t have been a happy place to grow up in, under the shadow of loss and grief and deeds unrepentable, and the slow march of inevitable defeat

they would have had a better childhood if they stayed in sirion, raised by people who knew how to hope

but that isn’t the childhood they had. and despite everything i’ve said, i don’t think that childhood was an entirely awful one

yeah, see, this is where the other side of my self-inflicted fandom catch-22 comes in. just as much of the pro-kidnap dads stuff comes off as overly saccharine and simplified to me, i find much of the anti-kidnap dads stuff equally simplistic in the opposite direction

the idea that maglor and the fëanorians never meant anything to elros and elrond, that they had no effect on the people they became at all, that it was just a horrible thing that happened when they were children, easily thrown in the rear-view mirror...

that’s even more impossible to me than the idea that life with the fëanorians was 100% fluffy and nice

like, i’ve seen the take that elros and elrond hated the fëanorians from start to finish. they were perfect little sindarin princes, loyal to their people and the memory of doriath, spurning every scrap of kindness offered to them and knowing just what to say to twist the knife into the kinslayers’ wounds

... dude. they were six. hell, given their peredhelness, mentally they could easily have been younger

what six year old has a firm grasp of their ethnic identity? what six year old is fully aware of their place in history? what six year old would understand the politics that led to their situation?

don’t get me wrong, i can see hatred in there. but something else that doesn’t get acknowledged alongside it often enough is the fear

some of the stuff i’ve read feels like it gives the kids too much power in the situation. they’re perfectly happy to talk back to and belittle the people who burned down their hometown and killed everyone they ever knew, like miniature adults who don’t feel threatened at all

and, like, six. i can see them going for insults as a defensive measure, but it is defensive. it’s covering up fear, not coming from secure disdain

(and a lot of those insults sound, again, like things an adult who’s already familiar with the fëanorians would say, not a scared child who’s lost almost everything. why would a six year old raised by sindar and gondolindrim know what the noldolantë is, let alone what it means to maglor?)

(... i’m just ranting about this one fic that’s been ruffling my feathers for five years straight now, aren’t i)

i mean, i write elrond as the world’s angriest teenager, who snipes at maglor pretty much constantly, but the thing about angry teenage elrond is that he’s angry teenage elrond

he’s spent long enough with the fëanorians he has a pretty secure position within the camp, and he knows that maglor won’t hurt him from a decade and change of maglor not, in fact, hurting him

but as a small and terrified child abducted by the monsters his mother had nightmares about? he fluctuated wildly between ‘randomly guessing at things to say that wouldn’t get him killed’ ‘screaming at maglor to go away in words rarely more complicated than that’ 'desperately trying not to do or say anything in the hopes of not being noticed’ and ‘hiding’

(and i don’t think the twins were never in any danger from the fëanorians, either. quite besides the point that before they started orbiting maglor nobody was really sure what to do with them... well, they wouldn’t be the first children of thingol’s line the minions took revenge on)

(fortunately for them, maglor did, in fact, take them under his wing. by this point even their own followers are shit scared of the last two sons of fëanor, nobody’s going to mess with their stuff and risk getting mauled. tactically, it was a pretty good decision for a couple of toddlers)

more to the point, i feel like a child that young, in a situation that horrible, wouldn’t reject any kindness they were offered, any soothing touch in a universe of terror

in a world full of big scary monsters, the best way to survive is to get the biggest scariest monster possible to protect you. that’s how elros rationalises it when they’re, like, eight, mentally, but at the time they were just latching on to the only person around them who seemed to care about them

that’s how it started, on their end. two very young very scared children lost in a neverending nightmare clinging tightly to the lone outstretched pair of hands

as for maglor...

i’ve called mags evil before, but i see that as more of a... technical term? he is evil because he did the murder, he remains evil because he won’t stop doing the murder. hot take: murder bad

but that doesn’t make him, like, a moustache-twirling saturday morning cartoon villain. he is deeply unhappy with the position he’s in and the person he’s become, and he’s always trying not to take that final step over the edge

it’s not that i can’t see a maglor who is abusive or manipulative or who sees the twins more as objects than people. it’s just that that characterisation is one i am profoundly uninterested in. i do occasionally read fic with it, but it never enters my own headcanons

horrible people can do good things!! kinslayers can do good things!! the fallen are capable of humanity!! people can do both good and evil things at the same time, because people are complicated!! maglor is not psychologically incapable of actually taking pity on these kids!!!!

it’s... again, complexity. the fëanorians straddle the line between black and white, which is a lot less sharp in the legendarium than it’s sometimes characterised as. it’s what draws me to their characters so much, why i have so many stupid headcanons about them. pretending they fall firmly on either side of the line is my real fandom pet peeve

and, like, this moment? this sincere connection between a bloodstained warlord and two children who will grow up to be great and kind in equal measure? i may not entirely like the direction the fandom’s taken it recently, but that beat, that relationship, it still gets me

so no, i don’t think elrond and elros’ years with the fëanorians were an endless cavalcade of abuse and misery. i think there was love there, despite the darkness all around them

an old, tired monster, and the two tiny children it protects

maglor never hurts the twins, not ever, not once. his claws are sharp and his fangs are keen, if he so much as swatted them he’d rip them in half. instead he folds down the razor edges of his being, interacting with them ever so carefully. he has nightmares of suddenly tearing into their skin

seriously, the power differential between them is so great, maglor so much as raising his voice would break any trust they have in this horribly dangerous creature. fics where he does corporal punishment always get the side-eye from me

the mood of their relationship is... i find it hard to put into words. melancholy, maybe, like a sunny afternoon a few days before the end of the world. three people who’ve lost so much finding what respite they can in each other as the world slowly crumbles around them

there are times when it feels like the three of them exist in a world of their own, marked out by the edges of the firelight. maglor telling stories of the stars, elros giving relaxed irreverent commentary, elrond getting a few moments to just be, all their troubles kept at bay

they are the last two lights in a world sunk into darkness, the last two living beings he does not on some level hate. he will tear his own heart out before he sees them in pain

he teaches them to ride, he teaches them to read, he gives them everything he still has left. the twins should never have been in this situation, maglor probably isn’t entirely fit to take care of them, but it is what it is, and they take what love they can

(maglor depends on the twins emotionally a bit more than any adult should rely on any child. he’s still very much the caretaker in their relationship, but that relationship is the only one he has left that’s not stained by a century of rage and grief. he’s obsessed with them, maedhros tells him frequently. maglor’s standard response to this is to try to gouge maedhros’ eyes out)

(that particular darker side to their relationship, where maglor’s attachment to the twins turns into a desperate possessiveness - that’s not something i think i’ve ever seen in fic. which is a shame, it feels much closer to my own characterisation than the standard ways this relationship gets maleficised. darker, in a different way than usual. horribly compelling in its plausibility)

however you want to read it, i don’t think you can deny this is a relationship that defines elrond and elros’ childhood. they were raised in the woods by a pack of kinslayers, the text is quite clear on this

but i’ve seen a lot of talk about how elros and elrond are only sirion’s children. they are completely 100% sindarin, they love and forgive eärendil and elwing thoroughly and without question, they identify with doriath over - even gondolin, let alone tirion. the fëanorians - the people who raised them - had zero effect on the people they grew into and the selves they created

and that, more than anything else, i find utterly unbelievable

look, i get what this is a reaction to. a lot of the kidnap dads stuff paints the fëanorians as elrond and elros’ ‘real’ family, and i’ve already talked about what i think of the idea that maglor-and-possibly-also-maedhros were better parents than eärendil and elwing. i think it’s reductive and overly optimistic and just a little too neat

but to say instead that elrond and elros held no great love in their hearts for maglor, no lingering affinity with the fëanorians, no influence on their identity from the people they grew up around, none at all? that after it happened they just left it behind and resumed being the same people they were in sirion?

that strikes me as just as much an oversimplification. it sands down all the potential rough edges of their identity, all that inconvenient complexity that stops them from fitting into any well-defined box, and replaces it with a nice safe simple self-conception i find just as flat and boring as declaring them 100% fëanorian

we can quibble over who they call ‘father’ (i personally find that whole debate kinda petty) but denying that it was actually maglor who was the closest thing they knew to a parent for most of their childhoods, and that that would, in fact, affect the way they thought of themselves and their family, elides so many interesting possibilities out of existence

(i’m not even going to get into the most braindead take i have ever heard on the subject, namely that because their time with the fëanorians was such a small fraction of elrond’s total lifespan it was like being kidnapped for two weeks as a toddler and had no greater significance than that. do you not understand what childhood is????)

like, i tend to think of elrond as a child as being very loudly not-a-fëanorian. elros is more willing to go with the flow - hey, if the creepy kinslayer wants kids, elros is happy to play into that in order to not be murdered - but elrond is very firm that he’s not happy to be here and he doesn’t belong with them

(this is after they get over their initial terror, of course, when they’ve realised they won’t be fed to the orcs for the tiniest slight. even so, elrond only really gets shirty about it around people he’s comfortable with, whose reactions he can reasonably guess at. naturally, the first person he does it to is maglor)

elros calls maglor their father exactly once, when they’re... maybe early preteens? this is because elrond hears him do it and immediately loses his shit. they have a dad, elrond says, in tears, and a mum, and any day now their real parents are going to come to pick them up and take them home

... right?

it gets harder to believe as the years roll on, as their memories of sirion fade, as they find their own places within the host, as maglor watches over them as they grow. elrond still mentally sets himself apart from the fëanorians, but it’s more of an effort every year. life in the fëanorian camp is the only one he’s ever really known. he can barely remember his mother’s voice

then the war of wrath starts, and the fëanorian host drifts closer to the army of valinor, and the twins come into contact with non-fëanorians for the first time in forever, and it becomes clear just how obviously fëanorian elrond is. he always insisted he wasn’t like the kinslayers at all, but he dresses like them, talks like them, fights like them

the myth cycles the edain tell are almost completely unfamiliar to him, he barely remembers the shape of the songs of lost doriath. even these sarcastic commentary and subversive reinterpretations he made of maglor’s stories - those were still maglor’s stories! he’s been trying to guess at the person he was meant to be, but it’s growing nightmarishly blatant how little elrond ever knew about him

instead, the people he was born to are as alien to him as the orcs of morgoth. he is a fëanorian, through and through

... yeah, elrond (and/or elros) having an absolutely massive identity crisis upon being reintroduced to his quote-unquote ‘true kin’ is another angle i’d love to see in fic that i don’t think i’ve ever come across. all those potential grey areas around who they are and who they’re supposed to be sound utterly fascinating, and i think it’s the complexity i hate to see elided over the most

i really, really doubt they could effortlessly slot back into being eärendil and elwing’s children. not when they’ve been surrounded by, lived alongside, been raised by the people who were supposed to enemies for most of their lives

they just don’t fit into that box any more. they can’t

speaking of eärendil and elwing, while i do agree that they both (especially elwing) get a lot more flak than they deserve, i don’t agree that therefore elrond and elros were never the slightest bit mad at them and fully forgave them for everything with no reservations

because, well, they were left behind. elwing had no other choice, but they were still left behind; it led to the world being saved, but they were still left behind. all the best intentions in the universe don’t erase the weeks and months and years of waiting, of a hope that grew thinner and frailer until it finally quietly broke

that’s a real hurt, and a real grievance. even if the twins rationally understand that their parents were making the best out of their terrible situation, you can’t logic away emotions like that. it’s perfectly possible for them to know they have no reason to resent eärendil or elwing, and yet still harbour that bitterness and pain

(i did write a thing once where elrond loudly rejects eärendil as his father in favour of maglor, but something i didn’t add in that i probably should have is that elrond later regretted doing that)

(not like, several centuries later, when he’d grown old and wise. two hours later, when he’d calmed down. but he was still legitimately angry at eärendil, because the one thing angry teenage elrond was not lacking in was reasons to be mad at the adults around him, and before he could figure out if he had anything less furious to say the hosts of the valar left middle-earth behind)

(it’s another element to the tragedy of the whole thing. in that particular story, which is mostly aiming for maximum pain, the only thing elrond’s birth parents know about their son for thousands of years is that he hates them)

(and he doesn’t, not really. you can’t hate someone you’ve never known)

not that i think they couldn’t ever make up with their parents! fics where elrond and his birth parents work past all the things that lie between them and form a functional familial bond despite it all give me life. i just don’t like the idea that there’s nothing difficult for them to work past

i don’t like the idea that elrond and elros would naturally, effortlessly identify with the mother they last saw when they were six and the people they only vaguely remember. i can see them doing it as a political move, i can see them going for it as a deliberate personal choice, but i can’t seeing it being immediate and automatic and easy

no matter how great a pair of heroes eärendil and elwing are, that doesn’t change the fact that to elrond and elros, they’re at most a few scattered memories and a collection of far-off stories. and so long as the twins stay in middle-earth, they’re never going to draw any closer

compared to the dynamic, multifaceted, personal, and deep bonds they have with the fëanorians - who, and i know i keep saying this but i think it gets tossed aside way more casually than it should, are the people who actually raised them, their birth parents must feel like a distant idea

and that’s why i can never buy interpretations of elrond as 100% sindarin, a pure son of doriath, with no messy grey areas or awkward jagged edges to his identity. given everything we know about his life, it seems almost cartoonishly simplistic

honestly it seems like a narrative a bunch of old doriathrin nobles trying to manouevre elrond into being high king of the sindar or something would propagate. it's neat and nice and tidy, something that’d be much more convenient for everyone if elrond did feel that way

but i just don’t see how he can. this narrative is easy and simple in a way real people never are, it ignores all the forces pulling him apart. elrond being uncomplicatedly sindarin with the life he lives and the people he's close to - that doesn’t make any sense to me

which isn’t to say i think he’s 100% noldorin, from either a gondolindrim or a fëanorian perspective. (i find it a little more believable, given, again, who he grew up around and who he hangs out with, but it’s still a bit too reductive for my tastes.) it’s also not to say i couldn’t believe an elrond who made an active choice to emphasise his sindarin heritage

it’s not how i think of him, but it works. i don’t have a problem with other people interpreting the complexities of the twins’ identities differently

i just have a problem with people acting like it doesn’t exist

in general i think there’s a lot untapped potential that gets left behind when you declare the twins, separately or together, as All One Thing

they’re descended from half the noble houses of beleriand, and they have deep personal ties to most of the rest. they belong to all of the free peoples even the dwarves, somehow, probably and i feel like that was kind of the old man’s point? so many peoples meet in them, to say they wholly belong to any one species is probably an oversimplification

they sit at a crossroads of potential identities, and rather than narrowing down their worldviews to one single path, they take the hard road and choose all of them. that’s what you need to do, if you want to change the world

and, to bring this back to my ostensible topic, in my estimation at least this mélange of possible selves does include them as fëanorians! it’s not overpowering, but it’s certainly there, and the adults they grow into long after they’ve left the host still bear influence from their childhood

nothing super obvious, nothing that wouldn’t stand out if you didn’t know what to look for, but there’s something almost incandescent in how fiercely elros reaches out for his dreams

there’s something almost defiant in elrond’s drive to be as kind as summer

as for who they publically claim as their family... honestly, it depends. while it’s usually more tactically prudent for elros to connect himself to his various human ancestors, on occasion he does find a use for his free in with the elf mafia, and elrond, code switcher par excellence, is famously the son of whoever is most politically convenient at the moment, which is rarely, but not never, maglor

(in the privacy of their own minds, well, eärendil and elwing may have been the parents elros was supposed to have, but maglor was the parent he actually had, and elros doesn’t particularly care to mope over what might have been. elrond, for his part, figures that after all the shit maglor has put him through, the least that bastard owes him is a father)

but honestly? i think before any of their mountain of identities, before thinking of themselves as sindarin or gondolindel or hadorian or haladin or fëanorian or anything, elrond and elros identify as themselves

they are peredhil, they are númenóreans, they are whoever they make themselves to be. that’s how elrond finally resolved his identity, figured out who he was and found something past the pain and the rage

he wasn’t doriathrin, or gondolindrin, or falathrin, or fëanorian, or whatever else. he was elrond, no more and no less

and that person, elrond, could be whatever he chose to be

... elros came to a similar conclusion, with much less sturm und drang that he’s willing to admit. being able to go ‘hey, i can’t possibly be biased towards any one of your cultures, because i’m descended from all of you and i was raised by murderelves’ makes it a lot easier to unite people around your personal banner, turns out

the stories other people tried to force on them shattered into pieces, and the peredhel twins were free to shape themselves into anything they could dream of

and as the new world struggles alive, these lost children of an Age of death begin to bloom into their full glorious selves -

i just. i love the poetry of that. despite every single shadow that hangs over their past, despite all the clashing notes pulling them apart, they harmonise it all into a greater, kinder theme, determined to make their world a better place in whatever way they can

they fail, of course, but so do all things. the inevitable march of entropy doesn’t diminish the long millennia they (and their descendants) held onto the light

and their growing up in the fëanorian host definitely had a huge effect on the noble lords they became. you can see it in elros’ loud ambition to create a land of happiness and hope, elrond’s quiet resolve to heal all the hurts inflicted by this marred reality

it wasn’t a perfect time by any means, but neither was it a nightmare. it was what it was, a desperate existence at the edge of a knife where, nevertheless, they were loved

even after years upon decades upon centuries have passed, it’s hard for the wise king and the honourable sage to separate out and identify all the conflicting emotions swirling around their childhood. they never knew eärendil or elwing, true, but they also never really knew maglor

not as equals, not as adults, not as people who could truly understand him. he disappeared into the fog of history, leaving only childhood memories of razor-sharp, gentle hands

it’s messy and it’s complicated and getting any real closure would be like shoving their way through a thornbush with bare hands even if elrond could find the shithead, and yet at the core of it all, there is light. not the brightest of lights, maybe, but an enduring one

that contrast, above all, that note of warmth amidst the shadows, is what fascinates me so much about their relationship. three screwed up people in a screwed up world, finding a little peace with each other

and the fact that somehow, it does have a good ending - the children grow up magnificent and compassionate and just, they become exemplars of all their peoples, lodestars of the new world born out of the ashes of the old - that makes it seem to me like this relationship must have contained some fragment of happiness

but, fuck, all the darkness that surrounds that love, all the tangled-up emotions its existence necessitates, all the prefabricated self-identities it can never slot into - nothing about it is simple, nothing about it is easy, and i find that utterly enthralling. especially how, despite everything, that flickering light never goes out

well, i don’t think it does, anyway. my take on this relationship is both complicated enough no one else ever quite gets it right and well-defined enough every single ‘error’ in other people’s interpretations sticks out like a kinslayer in rivendell

it is an entirely self-inflicted problem, i will admit. other people are allowed to interpret those complexities differently from me, and it’s entirely my own fault i lack the :waves hands around nebulously: to write my own hypothetical fic on the subject at a pace faster than glacial

still, though. i do wish there was more fic out there that engaged with these complexities. a lot of the common fandom interpretations of this relationship just sweep it all away

[admiringlove]

[iv] the one that ruined it all

+synopsis: hq boys and the one that ruined it all.

+genre: angst; headcanons. 

+characters: bokuto kōtarō, mattsukawa issei, hanamaki takahiro, iwaizumi hajime. 

+warnings: none, except sadness.

+author’s notes: i always write these on impulse decisions. 

+navigation: part i, part ii, part iii.

BŌKUTO KŌTARŌ doesn’t understand why you can’t respect his emotions. he’s happy. why can’t you be happy with him? he understands you’re swamped with college assignments but you should spare him some time, right? he gets it —college stress can be overwhelming, he went through that too. but at least he’s making some time for you. he comes home straight from practice to see that you’re on a videocall with someone and are doing something on a document. what, they’re more important than him? why do you keep telling him that just because his schedule has free-time, yours doesn’t have to? why are you yelling? was he the one to start this fight? he doesn’t want to fight though. all he wanted was to spend some time with you. you’re stressed and tired. but so is he. he’s exhausted beyond his imagination. but why can’t you understand that?

MATTSUKAWA ISSEI doesn’t get why he has to tell you he loves you every time you say it. what’s the point? you know how he feels about you already, so why do you want to know every. single. goddamn. day? why do you say that you want him to say it? to him, it’s just a hindrance he’ll get rid of because of his unwavering personality someday. everyone leaves. you will too, after you see how nonchalant he is about everything. he doesn’t like to portray his emotions with his expressions or his words. but you want affirmation from him. he just can’t give you that—but it hurts him every time he sees you cry. it hurts him because he does love you; he shows it through small actions, but you’re too blind to see them. he cries the night you leave. for the first time in a while, he expresses his emotions through his facial features in such a way that it shocks even the closest of his friends. it hurts him to see you move on, but maybe, the next person who comes along will get to see his emotions more than you ever did. i’ll do it right next time, he promises himself. but when will ‘next time’ come, if not you?

HANAMAKI TAKAHIRO is shocked when he sees you sobbing in the bedroom when he comes back home after meeting up with a few friends. you’re wiping your tears the moment you see him, and he slowly learns that the way he jokes around actually hurts you like a thousand pricks cutting into your skin. his words are harsh, he knows that too. but do they really hurt that much? he means it as a joke, he says. he chuckles a little and hugs you a little tighter at night as reassurance, but somehow your insecurities slowly creep behind you. he doesn’t understand why you’re sobbing again—or why you’re packing up your things and leaving. he only stood there for a minute, blinking and processing what just happened. did you seriously just leave? what are you, a six-year-old? why are you getting hurt over pointless things? he didn’t even mean them. he... didn’t mean them, right? you’re overreacting, aren’t you?

IWAIZUMI HAJIME is not a vulnerable man. he’s never been a liability to anyone. he’s always the asset—the strong one of the group whom everyone leans on for help. he doesn’t cry. hell, he doesn’t even show he’s sad. he’s always there when you need him, but you’re always wondering how he doesn’t need you. are you that worthless to him? does he not trust you? no, it’s none of that. you confront him, and he just says things that are the least connected to the argument at hand. things that don’t even matter. “i never cry, okay?!” he shouts. this fight is unnecessary. you don’t want to fight. all you want to know is why he won’t share his problems with you. you don’t get it. you’re exhausted and he’s yelling countless insults as you press your palms to your ears. you don’t want to listen, and neither does he. he’s calling you a lot of names you never expected to come out of his mouth. and then he stops. he steps back, and for once, he’s crying. he’s sorry. he didn’t mean to. but you’re crying too. and you don’t know if it’s really worth it. 

© all works belong to admiringlove on tumblr. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

[redorich]

Hey, so your Hermit!TommyAU has been living rent free in my head and I can’t stop thinking, what if the Blood God works on the same rules as The Santa Clause? You kill the Blood God? Congrats! You are now Blood God. Impulse and Technoblade go through with finding and killing Khorne and it ends up being *Impulse* who lands the killing blow. Impulse is now the Blood God. Thoughts????

Impulse walks in on Techno pulling on his armor, already prepared for war.

“Nope. You’re not doing that,” Impulse says.

Technoblade pauses, tugging on the strap of his netherite shin guard. “Just what am I not doing?” he asks quietly, dangerously.

The hermit huffs, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorway. “Going off all alone to fight the Blood God, like an idiot.”

Standing up to his full imposing height, Technoblade glowers down at Impulse. “You’re the one who told me I should kill the Blood God in the first place, need I remind you?!”

Impulse scoffs, drawing his sword. Technoblade tenses, but Impulse hands him the sword by the hilt, blade-down.

“I said that you should end the cycle of senseless violence and disregard for the lives of other people, Techno,” Impulse says, relinquishing his sword into Technoblade’s grasp. “You’re missing the whole point if you intend to do this alone.”

Technoblade falls quiet, examining the enchantments on Impulse’s sword. The sword is completely maxed out to the exact specifications that Techno believes are best. Impulse must have actually been listening to him when he ranted about enchantments ages ago.

“You’ll get yourself killed,” Technoblade says. “You don’t have infinite respawns where we’re going.”

Impulse looks him in the eyes, smiles, and says plainly, “I’m willing to risk my life for this.”

He takes back his sword from Technoblade’s grasp, loosened due to shock, and hums as he sets about laying out his entire inventory on a nearby table for Technoblade to examine and critique as he sees fit. Techno opens his mouth to say something, but Impulse must be able to read his mind, because he cuts the piglin off even with his back turned.

“It’s my choice, you know,” Impulse says. He places a stack of golden apples next to a potion of instant health. “If I die, it’s my own fault, not yours. Xisuma knows where I’m going, and if I’m not back in time he’ll know what happened to me. I intend on coming back, though.”

“Why?” Technoblade croaks.

Impulse turns around. “Why what? Why am I helping you? Because you’re my friend. Why am I volunteering even though it’s dangerous? Because I’m not letting you do this alone.”

Technoblade laughs wryly. “You’re an idiot.”

Impulse smiles back at him, steady and sure. “Takes one to know one.

-------

It’s been three days since Technoblade and Impulse left. Xisuma’s starting to seriously worry. He doesn’t like that the two left on their insane quest at all, but they’re adults. As much as Xisuma would like to tell them that they’re not allowed to go off on quests that will get them killed, Impulse is a grown independent man, and Technoblade’s not even a hermit.

He checks the console, as he has every hour on the hour since the two men left. Still nothing-- wait!

Right before his eyes, Xisuma sees the console update.

05.02 19:43:53 [Server] INFO Technoblade joined the game

05.02 19:43:54 [Server] INFO impulseSV joined the game

05.02 19:43:54 [Server] WARN Player [impulseSV] files do not match last known save. 

Xisuma takes off flying toward the world spawn, then decides to throw “fairness” and “decorum” out the window and teleports himself there. He falls into the water where the tiny spawn island used to be, and is quickly whisked down by the water elevator of his own design into the large area filled with resources.

Standing there, looking dazed but not dead, are Technoblade and Impulse. They’re leaning on each other heavily, covered in dried blood and potion residue. They’re weary but triumphant. Did they actually do it? Did they kill the Blood God?

Something’s wrong about Impulse. He appears to be the same person that left three days ago, but there is now a godly miasma of death about him.

“Hey,” Technoblade coughs out, “Funny story. We may have made a small, tiny, inconsequential really mistake...”

“So it turns out when you kill the Blood God, you become the Blood God,” Impulse wheezes. “Who’d have thought?”

[nanowrimo]

Contentedly Creating Comprehensive Characters

We all get stuck on our characters eventually, but maybe all we need is a fresh reminder on how to make those iconic characters. Luckily, writer Cyra Blue has a guide for how to create in-depth characters:

Chances are, if you’re reading this, you have a story (and by extension, some characters) mucking about in your brain. But how to make your forgotten prince stand out from among the many, many others of his kind, shape your villain into something more than a cardboard cutout of Jafar, or give that side character a personality other than “quirky alchemist”? I’ll give you a hint: it’s going to take some planning.

Put away your pitchforks, impulse writers. As a “pantser” myself, I know the urge to spit out your story without really thinking is great, but often comes at the cost of poor storytelling, confusing plot points, and bland characters. A bit of planning will help with that (and might even end up being fun!).

So, characters. Step one is to figure out what the character is doing in the story. Stop styling their spiky black emo hair for a second and pay attention, this is the most important part. In Plato’s Poetics (which is an excellent guide to writing tragedy, by the way), he emphasizes that the plot is the most important part of the story, and characters are intertwined in that, meant to carry the plot to its completion. Therefore, your characters must have a place somewhere in the plot, otherwise, well… they don’t matter. In creating characters for a story, ask yourself: 

“What impact does this character have on this story, and how do they help move it along?” 

If your adorable kitty girl doesn’t really do much for the gritty fantasy murder you’re writing, it’s time to make some cuts.

Now that you know what your character is doing with their life, you need to give them a personality. The easiest way to go about it is to pick up your cousin and drop them into the story without warning. Seriously. In my experience, I find the character creation process becomes much simpler if you have a good base to start off of. I can’t tell you how many times my brother has made it into my stories, whether he’s the main character or some weirdo walking down the street. The trick is, though, you don’t want to put the person in exactly as they are, especially if they’re going to be reading your story. Rather, you should take them as a base, stripping away all the identifying features until you get to their bones… that is, their personality. From there, you can add details until your new character is fully formed.

Think of it like casting roles in a play: you want the best possible person to play each part. For example, say your best friend is usually cheerful, but works hard to achieve their goals and is motivated to be better by their failures. You can very easily turn that personality into a character just by adding the necessary details, and all of a sudden you have the perfect character type for that extremely important old woman who raises the definitely-not-prince.

Alright, now we get to the part everybody likes: the details. My favorite way to do this is to fill out a character sheet, a myriad of which you can find with a simple Google search. There, you can finally give them their emo hair and favorite food, as well as a backstory, a family, goals, weaknesses, epic karate skills, and whatever else you desire. Looking for more help with their personality? Take a Myers-Briggs personality test as your character to get a feel for how their mind works.

And that’s it! If you follow these steps, you should end up with a good idea of who your character is and what role they play. Now, get out there and try it for yourself. Best of luck to all of you! 

Cyra Blue is currently a student at Thomas Aquinas College, where she is pursuing a degree in the Liberal Arts, which should explain the Plato reference. She does not have any currently published works, but is simultaneously working on an anthology detective series and a fantasy novel that may or may not involve a cat girl. In her free time, she enjoys acting in musicals, fooling around with art supplies, and keeping up with way too many cartoons. You can follow her on Instagram @ceruleancyra.

Top Photo by Alice Dietrich on Unsplash  

[littlemisspascal]

Death and an Angel part 14.5

Death!Din x Cupid F!Reader

Summary:  And it’s unbelievable, truly, that he’s found someone who makes him feel as though he’s flying and falling simultaneously. 

Rating: T

Word Count: 3,701

Warnings: angst, dialogue heavy, language, angst, Violence, plot plot plot, did I mention angst? Cuz it’s here

Author Note: Texas weather is no laughing matter and never have I hated snow more than these last few days. This is definitely more of a transition segment so I wrote shorter snippets as a result, but there is some serious plot development nevertheless. The response to last chapter was so amazing I can’t thank everyone enough for all the love and support 💖💖💖

Links to Part 1 and Part 14 and Part 15

Cross-posted on AO3.

Photo Inspiration:

Ahsoka hijacks the Razor Crest as soon as Din teleports her aboard the ship. She pushes Din out of the cockpit, refusing to let him so much as glimpse the coordinates of the destination she inputs into the nav computer. The Oracle hadn’t been kidding when she said she didn’t trust him going alone to rescue his soulmate.

Bo-Katan hadn’t been phased by Ahsoka’s arrival, adapting to her presence with the same ease as a duck to water. However, Din couldn’t help noticing the moment her mask of cool indifference slipped when Ahsoka asked the reaper to stay in the cockpit with her, claiming they had important matters to discuss. 

Din climbs down the ladder into the hull, recognizing that the conversation about to ensue is not one he needs to be involved in. Fingers twitching restlessly, he commits himself to checking each of the weapons in his armory, sharpening his vibroblades and loading a set of whistling birds into his vambrace. He’d made a promise to Ahsoka against killing Moff Gideon, but he’d made no vow against scarring the Seraph beyond recognition.

When Din’s finished with him, Gideon will be a warning to the rest of the galaxy what happens if you steal from Death. 

He stills at the thrum of satisfaction that runs through his body at the thought of pressing Gideon’s eyeballs out with his thumbs. The darkness within him has grown stronger since he killed Hess and it’s becoming an increasingly harder challenge denying its craving for bloodshed. If not for Ahsoka’s intervention, he would have reaped Xi’an’s soul, breaking another sacred rule. He should feel grateful, but the darkness expresses annoyance instead, upset to have been denied its kill. 

There is a thought that has been plaguing the back of his mind, shackled in the same corner as his other doubts and regrets. He once had iron control over his powers and emotions, but now he’s holding onto his human façade by a mere thread. So slowly he hadn’t even been aware it was happening, his darkness has usurped his morality. 

He’s meant to be a neutral entity, but when he looks at his reflection in the fresher mirror all he sees is a weapon. 

Obsidian orbs have replaced brown eyes. Flawless tan skin has become dissected by lines of ink that once were blue veins. 

Darkness is corrupting him from the inside out, making him a slave to the power he once mastered.

And he doesn’t have a fucking clue how to stop it. 

~~

Bo-Katan joins him in the hull an hour later. She doesn’t say anything , just leans against the wall across from him, and Din continues cleaning the barrel of his amban rifle as if he doesn’t see her. 

The silence isn’t tense or uncomfortable, but he feels her gaze trying to penetrate his helmet. He knows the reaper well-enough to tell there is a question on her mind, but her hesitance to voice it unsettles him. Bo-Katan rarely holds her tongue around him, preferring blunt honesty over sugarcoating, which means whatever is on her mind must be serious. 

He bites back a sigh when she starts restlessly shifting in place and pauses his task. “Ahsoka told you,” he says at last.

“That Moff Gideon fucked with our lives?” Bo-Katan snorts humorlessly. “Yeah, she showed me everything.”

“I’m sorry about your sister.”

“Me too. But it’s...good not being in the dark anymore. I needed to hear the truth,” she replies stoically, but the pointless adjustment of her headband betrays her internal strife. There is a moment of pause before she looks at him again. “I heard about your promise,” she says, and it’s not really a question, except that it is.

Din’s fingers tighten around the rifle. “Did she make you swear the same one?”

“No.” Bo-Katan shakes her head. “No, she didn’t.”

He’s not surprised by the answer. He actually thinks he should have expected it, considering the universe has always held him to a stricter standard than other entities. 

“Ahsoka made it clear to me that this is something between you, Gideon, and your angel alone. I cannot interfere just like you cannot kill him.”

There is bitter resignation in her tone. He recognizes it because he felt the same when he made his promise to Ahsoka. No one likes being told no when they want something. But this—knowing with absolute certainty Gideon is the one responsible for hurting their loved ones and being told you can’t do anything to avenge them? This is the kind of pain that will linger for years to come as an ache in their bones and a scar over their hearts.

It isn’t fair. But Din’s lived long enough to know the universe never intended life to be that way.

“Can I ask you a favor?” Bo-Katan asks, pulling him out of his thoughts.

He blinks at her, realizing this is the question she’d been withholding since she came down the ladder. Never has she asked him a request before. “What is it?”

“You must separate Gideon from the Darksaber,” she answers, expression one of absolute seriousness. “The Armorer warned my people if the Lightsaber was ever mishandled, it would turn against the wielder by transforming into the Darksaber. Instead of empowering you, it deceives you. Fills your head with delusions until you lose your grip on reality entirely.”

“And you want to spare Gideon’s sanity?” Din asks slowly.

“Of course not. The son of a bitch deserves to be punished for his crimes. Even if I did want to,” her lips curl into a snarl at the thought, “there’s no way of undoing the damage done to his mind. What I want is for the weapon to be returned to the Armorer. She’s the only one who can properly dispose of it.”

“Right,” he agrees quietly. Anything that comes out of the Armorer’s forge is built to last the length of eternity. He could toss the Darksaber into the center of a sun and it’d remain whole and unaffected, waiting to twist the mind of the next wielder. Nodding his head, he assures her, “I’ll take care of it, even if I have to cut off his hands.”

“Good.”

~~

Din paces the length of the hull, each thud of his boots making contact with the metal floor blends with the low hum of the engines. Usually he’d ignore the creaks and groans of his home, but the metallic symphony is the only thing capable of drowning out the thoughts in his head urging him to storm the cockpit and retake control from Ahsoka.

“Pacing isn’t going to make us arrive any quicker,” Bo-Katan tells him, not even bothering to open her eyes as she lounges atop one of his storage crates. “Ahsoka said it will be another hour at least.”

He has a retort ready on his tongue when a voice calls out his name from somewhere beyond the Razor Crest.

“Din!”

Din freezes in place as unexpected, heart-wrenching hope slices through his chest. He knows that voice. It’s his favorite in all the galaxy.

“Death?” Bo-Katan asks, concerned by his stillness. “What’s wrong?”

He tentatively reaches out towards the bond, giving it the slightest of tugs. When he feels the distant flicker of a reaction on the other end from his angel he nearly forgets how to breathe.

“The bond,” he murmurs, voice thick with awe and relief. “I can feel it again.”

Longing fills his chest where the hollowness used to reside now that the invisible block separating them is gone. It wraps around his heart, squeezing so tightly he nearly falls to his knees. Din pulls at the bond again on impulse, possessed by the all-consuming need to see her, to have her at his side where she’ll be safe.

The bond protests the harsh treatment, too weak to physically bring them together across the vast distance separating them. He snarls a curse under his breath, hating being helpless to protect her. It’s unfair, he finds himself thinking for a second time. Unfair how it hurts more now being able to feel her presence compared to when he couldn’t at all.

A paper airplane flickers into existence on the horizon of his mind, flying straight into his hand when he reaches out for it. I can’t leave this place. Not yet, the note says. The words themselves are unsettling, but it’s the strength of the emotions she’s attached that has him reeling with shock. For one crazy, electrifying moment he thinks he’s passed onto the afterlife. 

Another note arrives. I miss you, Din. I want to see you so much it hurts. And it’s unbelievable, truly, that he’s found someone who makes him feel as though he’s flying and falling simultaneously. 

As he sends a message of his own, never has he been more certain that if anyone can put an end to the darkness inside of him—it’s her.

~~

“The Moff is an expert when it comes to defensive warding,” Ahsoka says as the three of them stand looking up at a canyon wall that extends in either direction as far as their eyes can see. “But even he can’t hide from my sight.”

Din scuffs at the salt-covered ground with his boot, still coming to terms with the fact all this time Gideon’s been hiding out on Crait of all planets. As much as he wants to believe Ahsoka’s right, his powers can’t detect even the barest hint of the Seraph’s presence.  

Bo-Katan’s eyebrows arch with skepticism. “You’re sure this is the right place? It’s kind of remote.”

“Perfect for building an army,” Ahsoka replies without missing a beat.

Din exchanges a look with his reaper, realizing this is the first time either of them are hearing about this. 

“Gideon has an army?” he asks. “Who—”

“Mercenaries,” she interrupts, turning around to face them. Her blue eyes are distant and cloudy, entranced by a vision. “When I break the warding, all but one will meet the end of their mortal lives attempting to overpower us.”

“All but one? I don’t think so.” Bo-Katan rests her hands deliberately on her blaster pistols. “Anyone who works for Gideon is an enemy in my book.”

“Migs Mayfeld is not to be harmed.” There is steel in Ahsoka’s voice as she blinks back into the present moment.

Din nudges Bo-Katan with his arm when it looks like she wants to continue arguing. The reaper huffs a quiet breath of annoyance, but eventually jerks her head in the tiniest nod of compliance. 

Ahsoka grabs her twin sabers from her belt and ignites their blue blades. She handles her weapons with deadly grace, altering her appearance from peaceful Oracle to fierce and cunning warrior. Turning back to the canyon wall, her gaze trails over the red-brown rocks only to pause and narrow at seemingly random points.

Bo-Katan tries and fails to follow her line of vision. “What are you—”

The Oracle leaps into the air with surprising agility, lashing out with her sabers against the rock. Blinding light bursts forth from the point of collision followed by a flickering glimpse of a gigantic metal door. 

“—looking at,” Bo-Katan finishes quietly, watching Ahsoka swing herself higher to attack another portion of the canyon wall where the next segment of warding is hidden. 

There is something undeniably satisfying about seeing the door materialize as the wardings cloaking it are destroyed. Every precise strike of Ahsoka’s sabers brings Din one step closer to reuniting with his soulmate.

As if spurred by the mere thought of her, fear ripples across the bond like a gust of icy wind, stopping his heart cold. His angel is terrified. Din reaches out as far as the bond will allow in its fragile state, trying to get her attention by pulling at it and shouting her name, but none of his attempts breach the storm of panic. 

“She needs me,” he mutters to himself, stepping forward with clenched fists. His vision narrows until all he can see is the door in front of him, an obstacle that must be dealt with. “She needs my help.”

“Wait,” Bo-Katan calls out, but her voice sounds as if it’s coming from thousands of miles away. “Ahsoka isn’t finished with the warding yet!”

If he were capable of rational thought in that moment, he would have heeded her warning. As it is, he summons his power into the palm of his hand, the darkness inside of him crowing in wicked delight. He winds his arm back, preparing to slam his fist against the door, only for a whipcord to wrap around his wrist with an audible zip. 

He’s pulled backwards onto the ground, breath knocked from his lungs as he lands with a heavy thud. Bo-Katan appears not a second later and pins him in place by straddling his waist. The darkness is demanding he push her aside, knowing with absolute certainty the reaper is no match against him, and it takes all his strength to wrestle the urge under control. 

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” She glares at him, eyes resembling green flames eager to incinerate him.

“I—” he rasps, breathing heavily. His hand starts trembling, a burning itch under his skin. “I can feel her fear. She needs me.”

Bo-Katan blows out a long, frustrated breath. “Well, shit.” She jostles him then, forcing his head to momentarily clear as his helmet smacks the ground. “Look, soulmates are soulmates for a reason, right? I heard it’s like being two halves of the same whole. So if your soulmate is anything like you, she’s not going to give up without a fight. You have to trust she can take care of herself right now. That she’ll be fine.”

Din bristles. Trust is not the issue here. There is no one he trusts more than his angel—not Bo-Katan, not Ahsoka, not even Kuiil. The issue is he’s being asked to deny the instinct to shield her from danger which is woven into every cell of his being.

“She’ll be fine.” The words come out sounding sharp around the edges, cutting his tongue like shrapnel. “Everything will be fine.”

Bo-Katan disconnects the whipcord and rises to full height, apparently satisfied by his agreement. Din pushes himself onto his feet at a slower pace, his hand still shaking as if it's electric. He looks down at it, noticing for the first time the flesh is gone, replaced entirely by shadow. His expression tightens as he observes the change, realizing the black tendrils are slowly creeping up towards his wrist. 

An alarm rings out, reverberating off the canyon walls like an explosion. Din’s gaze snaps up just as Ahsoka lands on the ground in a defensive crouch. Now that it's been fully unveiled, the door bears a striking resemblance to ones he’s seen at military fortresses across the galaxy, ridiculously massive to intimidate enemies and impenetrable from outside attacks. It makes sense, he thinks with a scoff, someone as power-hungry as Gideon claiming an abandoned base as their lair. Without the wardings, Din is able to detect the massive number of souls gathering on the other side, resembling vermin crawling over one another in their haste to arm themselves. 

He searches for his angel’s soul, even just a glimpse of her bright light, only for his powers to instead encounter a massive cloud of dark, negatively-charged energy within a distant corner of the underground tunnel system. It fills an entire room, prohibiting him from sensing if anyone is inside. There is something strangely familiar about the energy, like he’s encountered its essence before, but he can’t recall the specifics of when or where. 

“It’s time.” 

Ahsoka’s voice reels his focus back to his physical surroundings. He notices the way her grip on her sabers tightens in anticipation and out of the corner of his eye Bo-Katan withdraws her blasters from their holsters.

The bottom of the door begins to raise with an earsplitting groan, but the mercenaries only wait the minimum amount of time it takes to pass under without hitting their heads to start charging forward. 

Every mortal has a beginning and an end just like everything else in the galaxy. These mercenaries are no exceptions, having long sealed their fates when they agreed to accept Gideon’s payment. So when Din’s shadowy hand phases through a man’s chest and tears his heart out of its cavity, staining the white salt under their feet crimson as blood bursts from the vacant hole, Din tells himself he’s simply fulfilling destiny. 

He repeats it when he discharges an assault of whistling birds, each one puncturing the throats of each target they encounter with a shrill warcry. And also when he rips a devaronian’s horn out of his head, a fragment of skull and bits of brain matter still gruesomely attached. 

Again and again, with each permanently silenced voice and every shattered fragile bone, destiny is fulfilled. 

~~

Din would be lying if he said he’s never wondered what it would be like to die. To pass on from this world into a new realm for him to explore. He’s imagined the idyllic afterlife mortals have written poems and novels about, describing it as a blissful safe haven where sorrow and tragedy have no definition because they do not exist. He’s familiar with their opinions of damnation’s appearance, too, as an infernal place of fire and brimstone and screaming.

They were wrong about that.

Damnation is not a distant hell. It is found in an underground lair on Crait. 

Instead of flames and sulfur, a Cupid’s blood is split and a soulmate bond is snapped in half. 

Instead of screaming, a madman laughs.

“I’ve waited so long for this moment,” Gideon says through his chuckles, hauling himself onto his feet. His voice is an abrasive rasp, as if he’s shredded his vocal cords by screaming. “I’ve had to be patient, wait to find your weakness so I could catch your attention. It’s a shame, really, she had to be the one you fell for. She was quite the little spitfire.”

Din stares at his soulmate’s motionless body, frozen in place. Please, he pulls at his severed half of the bond, resolutely ignoring how cold it feels. Open your eyes, angel. Don’t leave me. Please.

There is no response. Just heartbreaking silence.

“I sense your anger, your hurt, and grief. Those are mortal emotions.” The Seraph grimaces in disgust, then lets out a low hiss when he agitates the wounds on his face. “By living amongst their kind you’ve forgotten your true potential. You are not their equal, Death. You are their superior. Immortals are meant to be better than them. To rule over every aspect of their pitiful lives.”

“I don’t want to rule anyone,” Din says, dragging his eyes away from his angel to glare at Gideon. Both his hands begin to shake as his mind plunges into a gaping abyss of remorse and despair. “I just want a life with her.”

“Even dead, she continues to blind you.”

Din snarls viciously in response. His control is pushed closer to the brink, holding on by mere fingertips, and darkness engulfs the entire room as a result. 

The glow of the Darksaber persists, reflecting off his beskar and Gideon’s armor. It reminds him of moonlight, and he thinks for all that Bo-Katan warned him about the weapon’s sinful qualities, she did not mention its beauty. Even Ahsoka’s vision had failed to truly capture its radiance, just as a holovid can never compete with a face-to-face conversation. 

His powers are drawn to the Darksaber. The energy it emits matches the one encountered earlier when searching the tunnels for his angel’s aura. This close, there is no ignoring its familiarity, not when his brain feels seconds away from exploding. 

“I used to believe love conquers all,” Gideon prattles on, seemingly oblivious to Din’s torment. “I chose it as the Cupid motto because I thought there was nothing mortals cared more about than the health and happiness of their loved ones. Only after our fateful encounter did the Lightsaber reveal to me the truth.”

Lightsaber? Din’s head jerks up to stare at him, biting back a wince when the throbbing in the back of his mind intensifies at the movement. Does Gideon not realize the weapon has transformed? 

By connecting Ahsoka’s claim that Gideon didn’t fully understand the consequence of corrupting the Lightsaber with Bo-Katan’s explanation that the Darksaber deceives its wielder, the answer is an obvious one: he doesn’t.

Gideon mistakes Din’s confusion for interest and his lips slowly curl into a smile. “Mors aeterna. It means—”

“Death is eternal.” The translation slips unbiddenly from Din’s lips before he even realizes his mouth has opened.

“There is no one more feared or respected than you. But for what reason? What have you done to earn your reputation?” Gideon demands, spit flying as his anger flares. “You are no more than the universe’s favorite puppet. Mindlessly obedient to its every demand.” 

Hearing the truth always hurts, but hearing it from Gideon is especially torturous. Din’s creed to the universe has dictated his actions the entirety of his existence. He never fought against its orders, never thought of his own desires as more important than what it wanted.

Until he matched with his soulmate. She changed his priorities and shifted the center of his entire world by revealing to him even Death could experience love. 

There had been no hesitation when he broke his creed for her.

And he doesn’t hesitate breaking Ahsoka’s promise now.

“I just murdered your soulmate right in front of you and you do nothing. Did you ever love her at all?”

“I do.”

Din summons every trace of power and darkness he possesses and combines them together within his core—a volatile, pulsating mass of pure chaos. His beskar armor starts to crack and chip away, unable to withstand the increasing pressure. 

He thinks of his angel’s smiling face, the sound of her laughter, how bright her soul shines, and he thinks all those things are gone now. Not even a chance to say goodbye.

“More than anything.”

And Death lets go.

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[robininthelabyrinth]

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 4 - ao3 -

“Qishan Wen has sent the invitations for the discussion conference,” their father said. “They will be holding a competition.”

The elders murmured thoughtfully in response.

Lan Qiren wasn’t sure why, since the Wen sect always held some sort of competition when it was their turn – the other sects tended to vary the main event, feasts and hunts and academic discussions, but the Wen sect loved competitions. Although perhaps it was just Wen Ruohan himself who did; since he’d been the sect leader for so long, it was impossible to tell the difference between his preferences and his sect’s.

“Qingheng-jun can lead the disciples,” one of the sect elders said, and Lan Qiren’s brother stood and saluted respectfully before sitting back down. “As for the rest…what skills should we select for?”

“Equestrianism,” their father said. “And music.”

“Music?” one of Lan Qiren’s teachers – an old man who usually all but slept through these meetings, but respected enough that no one commented on it – asked, blinking awake and rubbing his eyes in a way that suggested he thought he was being discreet.  “Since when does Qishan Wen appreciate music?”

Lan Qiren's teacher in music, who'd clearly been about to ask the same question, shut his mouth with a poorly-hidden smile.

“They don’t have to appreciate it,” another teacher, this one of swordsmanship, said, his tone distant and cynical. “They just have to have someone in mind that they think will win. Qishan Wen values victory over all else.”

“And they are crafty," yet another said, nodding. "Including it in the listing might be a stratagem to get us to send more disciples talented in music and fewer in other areas, to reduce our chances of winning the main event –”

“Both riding and music are listed as the main events,” Lan Qiren’s father said, his cold clear tone slashing through the others’ voices and putting an end to the debate. “Let us proceed in selecting disciples to attend.”

The list was quickly settled, and for once Lan Qiren was nominated to go. He hoped it was on account of his musical talents, which he was pretty proud of, although he acknowledged it might very well be due to his heritage. He made plans to go to visit the library pavilion at once, thinking about what scores might be appropriate to study in preparation – based on the description in the invitation, there would be a technical challenge, in which they would all play the same piece, and then an individual selection where each player could show off their personal skills…

“Looking forward to showing off for your lover?”

Lan Qiren slowed to a stop. It was one of the wittier, more personable disciples, a distant cousin of his named Lan Ganhui – one of the ones that thought they were funny, and others seemed to agree.

“Are you talking to me?” he asked, puzzled. It seemed as if he were, but at the same time... “I don’t have a lover.”

“Really?” His cousin was smiling. “But we’ve all heard how highly Sect Leader Wen thinks of you.”

Lan Qiren blinked. “He complimented me once. Three years ago. When I was thirteen.”

With the benefit of hindsight and age, it was clear to him that his father must have been right about Wen Ruohan’s motives: he had only been making trouble deliberately, trying to stir things up. A test of his brother’s mettle as the prospective new leader of the Lan sect, no doubt.

Occasional teasing aside, what were the chances that he'd actually found Lan Qiren to be interesting?

“You’re far too modest, Qiren-xiong. Everyone knows how picky Sect Leader Wen can be – you must have done something to get his attention.”

Lan Qiren was not good at understanding people and their subtleties as a general rule, but he had sufficient practice at childish taunts to understand the implication, and he felt his ears burn.

“Do not speak ill of people,” he said, putting his hands behind his back to hide how his fists clenched. “You should report to the discipline hall for violating the rules.”

“Violation excused,” his brother said from behind him, voice calm – even cold – as always. “Don’t take things so seriously, Qiren; it’s only joking between friends.”

Lan Qiren was not friends with Lan Ganhui, but he probably should be. It was his duty as one of the heirs of the main clan to be magnanimous with the other disciples of the sect.

As irritating a task as that might be.

“Walk with me,” his brother ordered, and naturally Lan Qiren obeyed.

They went in silence for a while, their path the familiar one used to make the rounds of the Cloud Recesses – it was a task they were all assigned once they were old enough, and Lan Qiren recognized the twists and turns of it at once. He wondered what that meant, if anything.

If he were with one of his teachers, he would be able to extrapolate that the subject of imminent discussion was not a serious one; that they felt they could both fulfill their duties and speak with him meant that it was not a subject that required their full attention. But somehow, despite their closer relation, Lan Qiren sometimes felt as if he did not understand his brother anywhere near as well as he understood his teachers: it was possible that in this case the subject  was  important, but his brother more capable than their teachers of splitting his time and attention, or maybe simply didn’t care about one of the two tasks he was performing.

That was one of the things Lan Qiren had never really understood about his brother. His brother was the great hope of their Lan sect, the bright light of their generation; when he finally became sect leader, it was expected that he would help lead them to an ascendant position in the cultivation world and allow their clan to flourish, one andall. Yet sometimes it seemed as if he saw his duties as merely a burden, to be completed as quickly as possible – he was always trying to do more than one task at a time, trying to finish and put them aside, as if he had compared them to some ideal in his mind and found them wanting, purposeless, and therefore irrelevant, even if the task were key to the well-being of their sect.

Their teacher in swordsmanship – one of the few people his brother seemed to really like, though of course he was properly filial to all his teachers – said that he had the best chance of any in their generation of becoming a true immortal, if only he devoted himself, and Lan Qiren supposed that that was his brother’s goal. After all, hadn’t Wen Ruohan raised his sect higher and higher simply on account of having been there longer than anyone else…?

“This will be your first discussion conference in several years,” his brother said, drawing Lan Qiren’s attention. “Will it not?”

“Since the last time our sect hosted,” Lan Qiren agreed. It had been the Jiang the year after, and at fourteen he was too young to go to an official conference; then the Jin the year after that, and the Lan sect never sent too many people to suffer the rush and bustle of Lanling City. If he had had some extraordinary achievements, they might have sent him, but he didn’t.

This year, though, he was sixteen – just under the official age of eligibility for those not in the main families of the Great Sects, which was seventeen – and known to have some talent in one of the areas in question, so it would be a loss of face for their family  not  to send him. Otherwise, he suspected they would have waited another year until the discussion conference was held by the Nie sect, who as a close ally to the Lan sect would offer a much safer way to be introduced to the cultivation world.

“I see,” his brother said, and continued walking some distance. “You will need to be mindful of your actions, of course.”

“Of course,” Lan Qiren echoed, and despite his best efforts he felt some dissatisfaction. Beyond the resentment he bore him on account of their mother’s death, his brother had never really paid him all that much attention; Lan Qiren had been assured by several of his teachers that he was merely imagining how much his brother didn’t like him, or at least that the irritation would pass as he got older and more accomplished, less of an embarrassment. Most of the time, his brother’s gaze was turned inside to himself and his own cultivation efforts just like their father before him, so it made sense for him not to know too much about Lan Qiren, but…still. It wasn’t exactly like Lan Qiren was a known troublemaker that needed to be taken aside and especially warned to be on his best behavior.

He idolized his brother, Lan Qiren reminded himself. Just like everyone else. It was only the itchy emotionality of adolescence that was causing him such frustration.

“You understand what you did wrong, then, and will not repeat it.”

“…what I did wrong?” Lan Qiren ground his teeth together, realized he was doing it, and stopped at once. No one else had ever said he had done something wrong during that discussion conference, but perhaps they were only being polite. “Xiongzhang, I am too ignorant, and do not understand. Please tell me what you mean.”

His brother looked at him sidelong. “In connection with Sect Leader Wen.”

“Xiongzhang! I didn’t –”

“You are old enough now to understand how dangerous he is,” his brother said, cutting him off, and Lan Qiren fell silent, because that much was true. When he’d been thirteen and even more single-minded than he was today (and truly, how could he condemn his brother’s disinterest in so many things when he himself was similarly focused on his own interests?), he had been ignorant of the rumors that swirled around Wen Ruohan. It was said that beneath his seemingly composed countenance, he could be violent and moody, impulsive and selfish and cruel – how he had to have the best of everything for himself, and would stop at nothing to obtain whatever it was, no matter who it harmed. And then there were the stories of his mysterious Fire Palace, where he was said to collect implements of torture and to enjoy sating his bloodlust by practicing them upon those unfortunate enough to be his prisoners –

How much of that was true and how much merely rumor, Lan Qiren did not know, but he knew that it was well-accepted enough to be considered news rather than frivolous gossip.

"Yes, xiongzhang," he muttered, and dropped his eyes to the ground. "I know."

"This isn't like last time. We're going to be in the Nightless City, on his ground, not ours - you're not adept at politics, so you might not know it, but Sect Leader Wen's arrogance is beyond belief; he only sometimes considers himself to be bound by the laws and customs of the cultivation world, not like the rest of us. If something happens, I won't be able to protect you."

Lan Qiren nodded. He appreciated his brother's concern for him.

"Try to avoid him entirely," his brother instructed. "And if you do end up seeing him, don't pester him this time! Think beyond yourself: our sect cannot afford to draw his ire, if it turns out that he does not find you as amusing as he did before.”

It hadn’t been Lan Qiren’s fault that Wen Ruohan had found him amusing the first time. It wasn’t like he intended on spending time with the man – it had just happened!

“And what if he approaches me?” Lan Qiren asked, more to be contrary than out of any actual belief it would really happen. Wen Ruohan had seen him as a tool to needle his brother, nothing more, and had probably put him out of his mind long ago - it'd been three years, after all, and Lan Qiren was very young still; if it hadn't been for the Wen sect's selection of music as a main event, he probably wouldn't be going along at all.

“If he starts speaking with you, then you are to respond gracefully, and comply with his wishes until such time as someone can come to collect you.”

Lan Qiren frowned. “Are you sure?"

His brother stopped and frowned at him.

"I just mean, we've met in person before," Lan Qiren explained. "He won't mistake me for a servant; he'll know who I am. And the Great Sects are all equal, so isn't there a chance that we might lose face if one of our main bloodline yields to everything he wants at first request, as if we were some nameless clan beneath his…”

“Are you questioning me?”

Lan Qiren faltered. “No, xiongzhang.”

“I don’t want anything disturbing the discussion conference,” his brother said, his gaze already sliding away and his fists tight at his sides. Lan Qiren thought over his words and was ashamed of himself: he shouldn't have reminded his brother that he was part of the main bloodline, same as him; he knew it was a painful subject for his brother, and to bring it up anyway probably came across as arrogant and tactless. “I am acting as leader for this trip, and the responsibility for everything that happens is mine. Do not make me lose face. Do you understand?”

“Yes, xiongzhang. I won’t lose face for the sect.”

“Good. Dismissed.”

[hangovercurse]

I’ll Be Here

Colson tries to take you out for a nice dinner, but things don’t go exactly as planned.

Request: “hey there !! i absolutely love your work and was wondering if you'd consider writing something where the reader struggles with an ED? and Colson finds out? Just an angsty hurt/comfort-y kind of thing maybe? If you aren't comfortable/don't have the time then no worries !! I hope you have a lovely day ♥️🐇”

Colson x reader

Warnings: Eating disorders (explicit), cursing, vomit

A/N: If you are struggling with an eating disorder, there is help. The National Eating Disorders Association Hotline is 1-800-931-2237 and the national hopeline (for any and all crises) 1-800-442-4673. It gets better, I promise.

A/N part 2: This is really personal to me, as I am currently in treatment for an ED and still very much suffer from those impulses. If you are struggling and need to talk to someone who has been where you are, my dms are always open.

Word Count: 3107

Friday nights were always date nights. They had been since you and Colson had gone out on a Friday for your first date, 3 months ago. And tonight was no exception, but you wanted nothing more than to cancel.

Colson had announced he would be taking you to a very fancy restaurant that would be serving you both a five-course meal. “Babe, I won’t be able to eat all of that.” You told him, being completely serious.

He laughed it off, thinking you were just being overdramatic. “Don’t worry, I’ll eat whatever you don’t.” You pretended to laugh along, but in reality, your stomach was churning with the thought of how much food you’d be eating come Friday.

And now it was here, and you felt no more confident in yourself. You hadn’t eaten in almost two days to prepare for this, even though you’d gone longer for less before. You had been trying to eat more whenever Colson was around so he wouldn’t pick up on anything, but he was starting to be around a lot more, and it was getting harder to fake normalcy.

You were getting ready at your house, your hair and makeup done. You pulled the dress you planned on wearing out of your closet, a loose black dress with gold accents on it. You were hoping that it’s flowing would hide your figure. You caught a glimpse of yourself in your mirror, only a bra and underwear covering you. You scowled in disgust at your figure, sucking in your stomach and straightening your posture to try and flatten yourself out, but it didn’t help.

Before you could get more upset with yourself, you turned away from the mirror and put the dress on. “Tonight is going to be a good night.” You chanted to yourself.

Colson picked you up, looking sexy as ever. He was in a pair of blue pants, a plain white t-shirt, and a blue jacket. “You clean up nicely.” You smiled as he pulled you in for a quick kiss.

“You look fuckin’ incredible, babe.” He told you as he separated your lips. “Like, seriously, how did I get so lucky?”

You rolled your eyes, cringing internally but externally walking to the other side of his car. “If anyone here is lucky it’s me.”

The restaurant was, as he promised, hella fancy. The hostess led you both to a table in the far corner of the restaurant, away from peering eyes. You were handed a menu with five course headings on it and 3 options under each.

You looked at Colson with wide eyes, only to find him grinning at the menu. You decided not to say anything, not wanting to ruin his good night with all of your problems. You knew he would find out eventually, but you determined that tonight would not be that time. So, you gave the waitress your orders. Colson ordered a bottle of white wine for you two to sip on.

Before you know it, the first course had arrived. It was small, thank goodness, as it was only hors d’oeuvres, but you usually only ate that much food in a day, you couldn’t imagine how the next courses would go.

You had to admit, despite your hatred for food, the shallot and pancetta tortilla crisps were good. You figured this could be easy if you just let yourself relax. You let yourself fall into easy conversation with your boyfriend.

Then the appetizer came out, stuffed mushrooms. You struggled your way through, eating very slowly so that Colson would hopefully not notice that you were only eating half the amount that he was.

You got about halfway through your salad before your entire body said “stop.” You physically couldn’t eat anymore, the thought of holding your fork made you want to throw up. You got distracted by trying to calm yourself down that you were completely ignoring Colson.

“Y/N, are you listening?”

You snapped your head up from your plate to meet his eyes, a sorry expression coming onto your face. “Yeah, sorry. I just got distracted. I’m good.”

Colson eyed you wearily before continuing whatever he was talking about. The waitress brought out the fourth course in the meantime; your main meal. You had gotten Chicken Francese, hoping it would be the lightest thing on the menu. You were wrong.

The chicken was huge. You tried to smile at the waitress, but you couldn’t even look her in the face, too focused on how the hell you were going to pretend to eat this chicken. Colson sent a look in your direction before giving the waitress a polite, “thank you.”

Once she had left, he glared at you. You looked up once again, “what?” Your voice was quiet.

Colson grumbled, “nothing.” You gave a small pout when he looked away from you, cutting into his food. You decided it was better not to respond to him.

Instead, you returned your attention to the food in front of you. The tossing and turning of your stomach reminded you how disgusting you already felt. You could hear the faintest whispers of the devil in the back of your mind.

You’re gonna eat all that? Think about everything else you’ve consumed already! No wonder you’re so fat.

He’s never gonna stay with someone who eats as much as you do.

You shooed them away, taking your fork and knife in your hand. You cut the chicken into a few small pieces, taking nibbles at them, and pretending to enjoy it. You and Colson had stopped talking, and you could feel his irritation building.

You looked up to see his plate almost half empty, Jesus how could he eat so fast? He met your gaze, glancing down to your plate and scowling. “Why aren’t you eating?”

You looked down, a small sigh escaping your mouth. “I’m just not that hungry, I guess.” You bit your lip, about to continue when he cut you off “I told y-“

“Do you not like it?”

You shook your head, “No, it’s no th-“

Colson let out a frustrated sigh, “well, sorry Y/N. Tried to do something nice for you but apparently even this isn’t good enough for you.”

You wanted to scream at him, “that’s not what this is about you fucking idiot!” But you were in a very nice restaurant and the patrons would not appreciate that at all.

If you kept pushing, it would end up going in that direction, so you decided not to explain yourself. Instead, you forced the food down, showing Colson that you were eating it. He scoffed every time you made a show of putting the fork into your mouth and chewing the chicken.

Every swallow felt like an anchor dropping into your stomach. Your stomach was bubbling like some kind of witch’s brew.

When dessert arrived, you wanted to get up and walk out, but Colson was already on edge and you didn’t want to make it any worse. You both hadn’t spoken much, but you could tell he was getting frustrated with you. It was the worst feeling in the world.

Your stupid insecurities are ruining his life.

You can’t even stop thinking about yourself for one night to let him have a good time?

Talk about selfish.

You pushed the thoughts down, taking a small bite of the apple crème brûlée. It felt like a tipping point, like if you ate anything else you would throw up right then and there.

You placed your spoon down onto your plate, harsher than you had hoped. You mumbled out a quick, “I’ll be right back.” Before standing up and making your way to the restrooms.

Luckily, there was no one inside, though you knew that could change at any moment. You locked yourself in the stall furthest away from the door, crouching down in your heels.

It only took a few moments before the food you had just eaten came up, your vomit filling the toilet bowl. You tried to keep your gags quiet in case anyone were to walk in.

He tries to take you on a nice date and you’re in the bathroom, puking.

Like I said, selfish.

I don’t even know why he stays with you, honestly

You’re not pretty, you’re not very smart, you’re not much of anything at all, really.

You’re a drama queen!

Maybe you should just stop eating for good

Then this wouldn’t be an issue

You don’t know when the tears started, but they were streaming down your face. You grabbed a handful of toilet paper, softly dabbing your face to hopefully clear your skin of any makeup that may have run off.

You flushed the toilet, piecing yourself together haphazardly. You stood up, stumbling out of the stall, and facing yourself in the mirror. Your eyes were slightly puffy, but none of your makeup had smeared, luckily.

Disgusting

You sighed, glancing up to prevent more tears from falling. You put a fake smile on your face, walking out of the restroom and to your table. When Colson saw you, he stood up abruptly. “I already paid, let’s go.” His voice wasn’t loud, but it was harsh enough for you to know he was angry.

He walked in front of you as you made your way to the car. His hand never found yours like it normally would, there was no warmth coming from him, only a cold distance. The car ride to your house was silent. You wanted to say something, but you couldn’t quite find the words. At one point you’d reached out to place your hand on top of his, but he jerked his hand away, his other hand gripping the wheel tighter.

When he finally pulled into your driveway, you sat there for a few moments, studying his face as he looked straight ahead. “Colson,” You whispered.

“Don’t.”

You sighed, your eyes filling with tears again. You hated almost everything about yourself, but you hated when he was mad at you even more.

You don’t deserve him.

You nodded to yourself, opening the door and stepping out of the car. As much as you wanted to explain yourself and beg him to forgive you, you knew what was best for him. If you let him leave now, he wouldn’t have to bear the burden of your problems. He could be free to find something better. Someone better.

So, you went inside, tears falling down your face the entire way in.

Colson almost didn’t catch the glossy look in your eyes, or the red swelling around them. But he did, and it made him feel all sorts of weird inside.

Why did he have to get so mad?

It was just a stupid dinner.

He knew he was being too hard on you, but he was just trying to do something romantic.

Is that too much to ask for?

Apparently so.

But he shook off his thoughts, turning his car off and making his way to your now closed door. Even if he was upset, he needed to make sure you were alright.

When he walked in, the lights were all off, the house very dark and very quiet. You had only gone in a few moments before him, where were you?

His questions were answered by small gasps coming from your guest bathroom, mixed with sobs. He ran to where you were, throwing the door open and turning on the light.

He found you sitting over the toilet, your bile in the bowl. A look of worry immediately flooded his features, and he kneeled down beside you. He wrapped one of his arms around you loosely, his other rubbing your back. You leaned back into his chest, sobs shaking your entire body. “I’m- sorry.” Your words were very choppy, interrupted by your gasps for air.

“It’s okay, baby.” He sighed, resting his chin on the crown of your forehead.

You shook your head, determinately. “I tried,” a sniffle, “really hard.”

His arm on your back joined the one around your waist, rubbing circles into your stomach. You pulled away from the motion, but he kept you firmly in his grasp. “I couldn’t do it.”

Your whispers sounded so weak, so pathetic. Colson wracked his brain for an explanation. This had to be more than just the food not tasting good. Maybe you were sick?

“Shhh, baby. It’s okay. I’m not upset.” He whispered, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your temple. You both sat like that for a while, your chest heaving and his soft words calming you down.

Eventually you were able to collect yourself enough to form coherent thoughts. “I’m sorry I ruined date night.” You mumbled, your hand moving to stop his from their movement.

“It’s okay, babe. You can’t control this shit.” He whispered.

“You shouldn’t have to deal with this shit though!” You shouted as best as you could, your hoarse voice making it sound more like a whine. “If I weren’t so-“ You cut yourself off, wanting to save him the burden of knowledge. If you told him he would either feel disgusted with you and leave or feel sorry for you and stay. You didn’t know which one you were more scared of.

Colson brought his lips to your temple again, “Babe, it’s okay. You should’ve told me you were sick. We could’ve rescheduled.”

His words made you let out a dry laugh, “I’m sick alright.” You mumbled, tears rolling down your eyes again. “But not that kind of sick.” You whispered.

You looked back at your boyfriend, turning so that your entire body was facing him. You could see the confusion in his features. “I want to help you, but I have no idea what’s going on. I can’t read your mind, babe, you gotta tell me.”

You shook your head, looking to the floor. “Trust me, it’s better if you don’t know. You don’t want to know.”

He took your chin in his hand, guiding you up to look at him again, “I do wanna know, Y/N. I wanna help you.”

Your eyes looked everywhere but his, shutting momentarily as more tears fell. You took a deep breath in through your nose, trying to find where to start.

“I have an eating disorder.” You whispered, trying to get the words out as possible so you couldn’t take them back. Colson’s eyes went wide with realization, “I was diagnosed with a purge disorder when I was like, 16. I think it’s morphed into anorexia since then.” Your entire body was shaking with nerves.

He’s gonna hate you now.

You’re disgusting.

Colson grabbed your face with both hands, cradling it gently. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I never should’ve taken you-“

“You didn’t know.” You shut down his thoughts. He shouldn’t blame himself for your problems. “It’s not your fault. I thought I could just suck it up and get through it but, obviously I couldn’t.” You shrugged, letting out a frustrated sigh.

His hands fell from your face, grabbing your hips and lightly dragging you closer to him. He moved your legs to rest on his outstretched ones as he spoke, “I shouldn’t have gotten so mad about it, though. I was so frustrated because I thought you didn’t like it. I was embarrassed because I just wanted to impress you.”

You reached your arms up to wrap around his neck, holding yourself up. “I was very impressed, and it’s not that I didn’t like it. Food is just really hard for me. I’ve gotten so used to eating next to nothing. I didn’t realize how hard it would be to eat like a regular person.” He nodded, a frown on his face. “I’m sorry.” You whispered.

“You don’t have to be sorry; you didn’t do anything wrong. This is just part of who you are.” He looked into your eyes, deeply.

You sighed, “I- I guess. But I didn’t want to have to burden you with all this shit. You shouldn’t have to put up with all this. You deserve better.”

He scrunched his face, “Woah woah woah. Y/N you are not a burden. I told you, this is just part of who you are, and I love who you are. I’m not putting up with anything, I’m accepting you for every part of who you are. I don’t want anyone else; I just need you.”

His words made your heart race. He sure knew how to string lines together. “You love me?” You asked, softly. He’d never said those words to you before. Sure, you had thought them, but you were scared he’d think it was too soon.

He smiled, leaning to kiss your forehead, “yes, you dummy.” He chuckled against your skin.

“I love you.” You whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that.” He mumbled and you sniffled.

Your first thought was to apologize, but you knew he’d stop you in your tracks. “I just don’t want you to feel sorry for me or think I’m weak. I’ve been dealing with this shit for years now.” You paused, a thought crossing your head. You whispered it to yourself before you even realized he would hear, “maybe I am weak.”

“Hey,” he kept your head in place when you started to drift towards the floor, “you are not weak. This just proves how strong you are. You’ve lived with this for how long now? And you’re still fighting. That’s not weakness, babe. That’s strength.”

“Sor-“ You cut yourself off, “If I was really strong, I’d be over this shit now.”

“It’s a disease, baby. It’s just like a broken bone. It’s not gonna get better unless you treat it. You’ve been trying to hide it for so long now, let me help. We can get you a nutritionist, and a therapist, and we’ll stock up on whatever food you can eat, and we’ll work on it together. Whatever you need.”

“Are you sure? That’s a lot of work, Cols. I’m not sure if I’m wor-“

He cut you off, blue eyes staring deep into your own. “You are worth all of this and more. Don’t think for a second that you’re not. You deserve to be happy and healthy and I am gonna be here to support you for as long as you want me here.”

You paused for a moment, taking in his words. “Thank you.” You whispered, “For tonight and for all this. Just, thank you. For everything.”

“I love you.” He pulled you closer to him, hugging you tightly. “Thank you for telling me. I know it wasn’t easy.”

“I love you too, Colson.”

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

I give you a lot of angsty requests, so here, have a fluffy one!

Among Us: Through some glitch, a round generates with no impostors. For the first little while everyone is really on edge and trying to accuse each other, but they soon realize that nobody is dying and relax, although they're still very confused. Everybody does their tasks as normal, but instead of completing the last task, they all build a big pillow fort under the admin table and just take a rest for a little bit, hanging out and laughing over previous games and just being together without the tension of possible death and betrayal over their heads. Many stories are told, many "bodies" of friends knocked over in pillow fights are "reported", and many memories are made, before they finally decide to end the round! 💙

okay so this request was MEGA detailed so i didn’t get to every single part of it but i hope this is just as good lol

also bring on the angst I DARE YOU /lh

…

A weird feeling in his stomach, Etho presses the emergency meeting button, teleporting everybody to the table. Once everyone is assembled, Etho realises something strange.

“Okay, there’s been no deaths,” he says slowly.

“Wh- Seriously?!” Tango gasps. “That round lasted, like, twenty YEARS! Half the tasks have been done!”

Etho frowns. “Nobody’s seen anything suspicious, or…? No venting?”

Everybody shakes their heads.

“Okay… I guess we’ll skip, then. Everyone keep an eye out, though.”

When the meeting comes to an end, Etho trots after Tango as the latter heads towards weapons. “Hey, Tango? Does something seem a little off about this round to you?”

“Yeah. We’re a bunch of idiots who can barely play this game on a good day - except you, of course,” he adds, “but it’s definitely weird that we went that long without a single kill. The imposters must be really slow for some reason.”

Etho considers this. “Maybe. I’m not convinced.”

He leaves Tango’s side and peels off into navigation as Tango keeps going. After finishing his download, he goes back up and does his task in O2, before heading back to cafeteria to finish wires.

After this, he realises there still hasn’t been a body reported so he catches Astro as the latter enters cafeteria. “Hey, Astro. Can you hit the button for me?”

“Oh, sure.”

Astro presses the emergency meeting button, bringing everyone back to the table. Etho’s suspicions are confirmed when he sees that everybody is still alive.

“Okay, I’m sorry to call you back here, but we need to talk,” Etho says. “There’s something wrong with this round and we may have to abandon it.”

“What do you mean?” Skizz asks confusedly. “What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s been over three minutes and there’s been no kills or sabotages. I apologise if I’m not correct, but I just have a feeling that there’s something wrong. If you’re the imposter, please raise your hand now.”

Nobody moves.

“This isn’t a trick,” Etho adds. “I’m sorry if I’m ruining someone’s imposter round, but I’m genuinely a little concerned that the game has gone wrong.”

“I’ll support you on that,” says Tango. “Etho knows about this stuff. If he’s worried about the game glitching out, I’ll take that seriously. I’m not the imposter, but if anyone else is, I’d advocate coming forward just to make sure nothing’s wrong.”

After a moment, a chorus of murmurs comes from the others, all confirming that none of them are the imposter.

“Okay, so it seems the game has glitched and generated a round with no imposters somehow,” Etho says. “No need to panic; if we all finish our tasks and win the round, it should take us back to the lobby like normal.”

“But do we have to do that, though?” asks Impulse. “Tasks are almost done and there’s no imposters, so why don’t we just hang out a bit, without the threat of death?”

“I’m down for that,” says Endless unexpectedly. “I’ve always wanted to build a pillow fort in admin. The table looks perfect for it.”

“You mean out of pillows like these?” Joker holds up a pillow that he seemingly pulled from out of nowhere. “Hey, Skizz?”

Skizz turns. “What’s u-”

Joker whacks him in the face with the pillow.

“GAAAH!” Skizz shrieks, tripping over his own foot. “What the hell?!”

Clutching the pillow by its corner, Joker doubles over with laughter. “Oh my gosh, your FACE!”

“Okay, that’s it. Imposter or no imposter, I’m gonna murder you.”

Skizz snatches the pillow out of Joker’s hand and swings it at him, but Joker dodges and takes off running down the hallway towards storage, giggling like a child. Unable to help a laugh of his own, Skizz pursues him.

“Where did he even get that?” snickers Tango.

“Same place I got mine,” Endless says, holding up an identical white pillow. “Medbay.”

Brody tries to hold in a laugh. “Endless, I’ll give you a high five if you hit Tango with that pillow right now.”

Endless considers this for a moment.

Tango gives him a warning look. “Don’t. Endless, I swear to-.”

He cuts himself off and ducks as Endless swings the pillow at him, but before he can do it again, Endless brings it back round and whacks him in the side of the head, causing him to let out a yelp.

Laughing uncontrollably, Brody holds up his hand for a high five, which Endless gleefully gives him. “I like this,” he says happily. “I feel cool.”

“Endless, you’re starting something you can’t finish,” Tango warns.

“Then you finish it,” says Impulse unexpectedly, appearing out of nowhere to hand Tango a pillow of his own.

A grin slowly spreads over Tango’s face.

Endless blinks. “Oh. I’m in trouble.”

On the other side of the room, Etho glances sharply over as he hears a THWACK sound and finds Tango and Endless whacking each other viciously with pillows. He chuckles to himself and continues looking through the game’s code.

After a while, Brody approaches him. “Hey Etho, we’re gonna go build a pillow fort in admin. You should come join us.”

“Thanks, but I gotta work through this code.”

“You can do that in the lobby later. C’mon, we’ve got a once-in-a-lifetime thing here. This glitch will probably never happen again. Let’s have some fun on this map while we have the chance.”

After a moment, Etho nods and lets Brody take him into admin, where Mrs Tango and Astro are already piling cushions in the middle of the room.

“Is this what we do when we think the game might’ve gone wrong?” Etho chuckles. “Build pillow forts?”

“I mean, we may as well,” Brody responds. “Right? What else can we do?”

“Finish our tasks and end the round.”

“Where’s the fun in that, though?” says Astro from the floor.

As Etho opens his mouth to respond, Joker bursts into the room and dives behind Etho, who spins round to find Skizz skidding to a halt outside admin. “Where is he?!” he snaps, panting heavily. “I’m gonna kill that idiot!”

“What’s going on?” Brody demands. “Who are you talking about?”

“JOKER! He said my mohawk looks like a dead bush!”

Relaxing, Brody rolls his eyes. “Oh no. How terrible. He’s a MONSTER. We’d better throw him out the airlock right now.”

“Sarcasm duly noted,” Skizz huffs. “Where IS Joker, anyway?”

Brody jerks his thumb over his shoulder. “Hiding under the admin table.”

“Brodyyyyy!” comes Joker’s muffled voice.

Skizz walks into the room and takes note of the group of people setting up the pillows and blankets over the top of the admin table. “So what’s going on here? Boy scout sleepover?”

“Yup,” Astro responds with a grin. “Do you have a problem with that?”

After a moment, Skizz shakes his head. “Nope. Can I borrow a cushion to hit Joker in his stupid face?”

“No,” says Astro firmly.

“Can I suffocate him in a blanket?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Can you relax and stop being a stupid schoolteacher for ten seconds?”

“Not if it means letting you try to kill Joker.”

“C’mon, I’m not ACTUALLY gonna kill him,” complains Skizz. “There’s no imposters this round, remember.”

“Mhm.”

Within five minutes, everyone is huddled under the blanket fort over the admin table, using a rusty lantern as a light source. It’s fairly roomy inside the makeshift tent, but the ten people are still sitting fairly close together.

“So now what?” Brody asks after a while. “Are we gonna talk about something?”

“How about we discuss what kind of dead bush Skizz’s hair looks like?” Joker asks innocently.

Skizz responds to this by whacking Joker in the face with a pillow, knocking him over backwards.

“Oh, report the body!” Tango yelps with a grin. “Skizz did it! Skizz did it!”

This causes the whole group to laugh, even Etho. After many rounds of chaos and suspicion, it’s nice to be able to joke around and relax a bit.

“How does it feel, huh?” Skizz smirks. “How does it feel to be hit with a taste of your own PILLOW?”

“Honestly, I deserved that.”

“Yeah you did.”

Joker yanks Skizz down next to him, grinning. “Shut up.”

A short pause follows this.

“This is the only round we’re gonna get like this, isn’t it?” asks Evil.

Etho nods. “Should be. Why?”

“Dunno. It just feels nice to just hang out with you all as a group and be happy. I love you guys so much.”

“I hate you,” Endless murmurs. “I hate you all.”

Immediately, the two people on either side of him grab him in a simultaneous hug. “Well too bad, cuz we love you,” Astro responds with a smile. “Grumpiness and all.”

A low groan comes from Endless, but everyone can see the hint of a smile on his face.

Etho sits back against the wall and gazes around at his friends. Mrs Tango is resting her head on Tango’s shoulder. Astro and Evil are still hugging and teasing Endless. Brody and Impulse are quietly chuckling together about something. Joker and Skizz have fallen asleep with the tops of their heads touching.

Even though Etho isn’t with anyone in particular at this moment, he still feels connected to his friends. He’s alone but he’s not lonely. And that’s a rare thing for him.

This group really is his family.

[papa-rhys]

Thoughts on Jack and His Borderline Personality Disorder and How It Shows Through His Behaviour - Because I Cannot Stop Analysing Things That Ultimately Aren’t Important

Symptoms/behaviours under the cut because holy hell this guy has a lot of them. Like, honey, are you okay?

Okay, so I’m pretty sure I can trace Jack’s BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder) back to his grandmother. His mum abandoned him, which shows a reckless/irresponsible behaviour and her mum had fits of rage that didn’t correlate at all with the trigger (ie; drowning Jack’s cat because he didn’t make his bed). So I think he has a family history of it, with both his mother and grandmother having BPD and passing it down to him.

Either way, Jack definitely has it. In fact, he’s a textbook case of it.

Impulsivity

Spending sprees: he bought a pony made of diamonds because he was bored and throws money at all kinds of ventures to keep him occupied and because he wants to. I really don’t know how else to describe this one lol. He bought a pony. Made of diamonds. Because he could.

Gambling: won some of the things on his trophy shelf through poker and owns an entire casino. Hunting the Vaults themselves were a huge gamble too, especially the first two, since he wasn’t truly sure that they existed. He was prepared to sacrifice a lot in order to come out on top in both his career and his social standing. All in all, he’s reckless.

Binge eating: he doesn’t even like pretzels, but still eats them because he’s either bored or stressed. Talks about food quite a bit in conversation, too, especially his cravings.

Substance abuse: admits to being high on uppers for the duration of the pre sequel (and his time on Elpis as a whole) and tells further anecdotes about drugs and getting high in tftbl.

Promiscuity/unsafe sex: nothing about having sex with Nisha is safe lol. But in all seriousness, there’s no way to prove this one. He does strike me as the reckless sex sort though. No proof, just 7 years of knowing him as a character.

Emotional instability

Inappropriate trigger response: he strangles a man to death for simply mentioning his wife, stabs Lilith for talking about Angel, and tries to kill Rhys for not being sure about his grand plan (more on this later). His response to triggers is disproportionate, often resulting in extreme anger over small things that don’t warrant that intense of a reaction. He gets big angry about almost everything; there’s no middle ground. His reaction is never really “you’re annoying me a lot” or “don’t talk about that, I don’t like it.” His reaction to almost everything is “oh my god I will murder your first born child how dare you-”

Quickly changing mood: aside from being prone to fits of rage at the flick of a switch, Jack also flicks back to “normal” pretty quickly, too. He flips between telling you to kill yourself after surviving the train and then talks casually about his day. He’ll be filled with rage after Angel’s death and then suddenly he’s laughing about you jumping into lava and having fun tricking you into visiting his grandmother. He can be intensely angry or sorrowful one moment and then nonchalant and sociable the next. His moods don’t last very long.

Idolisation/devaluation

Jack does this with numerous people across the games, but the two shining examples are Moxxi and Rhys; Rhys being the most notable. He idolises Moxxi, complimenting her on how attractive she is and how smart she is and including her in his circle of close friends/teammates. Then the inevitable happens and she lets him down and he instantly changes his opinion on her as if he’d never thought she was good to begin with. The same happens with Rhys. Throughout tftbl, Jack is best friends with Rhys and seems to form a one-sided connection with him where he idolises him and thinks they’re going to be best friends for ever and that they’re the perfect team. You cannot make him mad at you in tftbl (trust me, I’ve tried). He’s encouraging to Rhys the whole way through, like they’re brothers. Then the second Rhys displays doubts about something Jack is passionate about, Jack reacts violently and completely devalues Rhys, claiming him to be his mortal enemy and trying to kill him. People with BPD do this often. They have strong convictions and have a tendency to feel betrayed by people who go against those convictions. Jack does this regularly and it leads to the breakup of a lot of his relationships.

Paranoia

He vented a room full of scientists into space, just in case. I mean, that pretty much sums it up, really. Jack is under a lot of stress at this point in the game and stress-induced paranoia is a particularly difficult symptom of BPD. With him already feeling the pressure, the mention of a possible mole is a huge trigger for Jack. Especially since he’s reeling from the recent betrayal from a friend. His brain is already working over time, planting uneasy feelings of distrust and being unsafe. So when he’s presented with the idea from an outside source, he runs with it. Betrayal goes on to become a big button to push in Jack’s life to the extent that he actively betrays people before they get a chance to betray him (ie; killing Wilhelm). Paranoia feeds into a lot of Jack’s bad decisions, particularly in the pre sequel era.

Delusion

Jack wasn’t lying when he told us that he’s the hero. He absolutely was not the hero at all, but he wasn’t lying about it. Because lying about something implies that you know it’s not true, and Jack genuinely believes he’s a good person. The best person, in fact. It’s not a lie because in his mind, it’s the god given truth. He’s massively delusional, even before the events of the pre sequel. He’ll spout all the cheesy 80s movie lines about saving the moon and being the hero and he thinks he’s the protagonist of his own big adventure. We know that’s not what’s happening, but Jack doesn’t see it that way. Another delusion is the idea he has about how much everyone loves him. He thinks Moxxi is obsessed with him and he thinks Angel is being forced to work against him. He cannot conceive of a world in which people don’t like him or agree with him. Because why wouldn’t they agree with him? He’s the hero. Everybody loves the hero...

Intense but unstable relationships

Moxxi, Angel, Lilith, the Vault Hunter; I could go on. Jack’s relationships with people are volatile and rocky, even when they’re seemingly on the same side like with Moxxi or even Nisha (who he forms a tight bond with very quickly). People with BPD feel all emotions intensely, which causes a roller coaster. Jack really likes Moxxi, but then he doesn’t want to talk to her, but then he wants her on the team, but then he gets mad at her for calling him a pet name and beign friendly, and then he’s telling her she’s sexy, and then he’s cursing her, and then he’s hanging pictures of her in his casino. It’s the same with Angel - he subjects her to physical torture, then he loves her, then he’s mad at her for helping the Vault Hunter, then he’s doting on her, then he’s manipulating her, then he’s grieving for her. Everything is a whirlwind.

Distorted self-image

Oh boy. Jack has this physically and mentally. Mentally in the sense that he thinks he’s a good person when he actions are abhorrent and also because he’s massively insecure. BPD often comes with a lack of identity, which causes insecurity to begin with. Throw that in a pot alongside some childhood abuse, betrayal, work place bullying, and grief, and you got yourself a big pot of insecurity soup. Put plainly, Jack doesn’t really know who he is at his baseline. His personality and interests and ideas and needs all change on an hourly basis. He morphs to suit his circumstances. He can be open, honest and down to earth when he’s trying to trick Rhys. He can be full of worry and desperation when he needs you to head to grandma’s house. He can be cunning and clever when he’s tricking you into killing Wilhelm. He can be fatherly, he can be nasty, he can be torturous, he can be laid back, he can be clever, he can be ignorant, he can be sheepish, he can be cocky. He’s everyone and no one all at once and this probably leaves him feeling very hollow and empty; which is another symptom of BPD. In the physical sense, Jack issues with self image are pretty clear. He wears a face over his face to hide his face. Yup. And he does this because he thinks he’s disgracefully ugly. This scar he’s so vehemently protective of is something that defines his whole persona going forward. He literally claims himself as Handsome Jack, forcing people to adhere to the idea that he’s so attractive that it should be his title. Even though he doesn’t feel that way and does everything he can to hide the real him. He thinks he’s hideous and he struggles between loving himself and hating himself because of it.

Fear of abandonment

Aaaand here we are at the crux of the problem. BPD boils down to the intense fear of abandonment and this is probably what guides Jack for most of his life. His father died, his mother literally abandoned him, his grandmother neglected him, his first wife died, second wife left, girlfriend and friends betrayed him, and daughter killed herself to get away from him. Abandonment is practically coded into Jack’s DNA at this point and every time it happens, it confirms his fears more. He clings to Moxxi after she betrays him - taking her ideas to try and rile her up and even going as far as to recreate her entire bar in his casino because he wants to keep her presence around. He fights tooth and claw against Angel’s rebellion, begging both her and you to stop what you’re doing and leave. The only time he begs you is when he’s facing perceived abandonment, that’s how strong the fear is. His final words to Angel are “I’ll still forgive you.” Jack isn’t a forgiving man by any stretch, but he’ll say anything he has to in order to prevent her from leaving him. He’ll stalk people, he’ll manipulate them, he’ll lie to them or keep them physically locked up - all to prevent them from abandoning him. The worst possible thing that could happen to Jack is that, and we see the spiral he slips into after Angel. After Moxxi. After the Meriff. After his wife. He can’t bare the thought of someone leaving him and he’ll do anything and everything to prevent his fears becoming a reality.

So yeah! There it is, I finally got around to posting it lol. There’s probably a lot more little details that I’ve forgotten, but I cannot think of them right now. I’ll probably update if I think of any more! The tl;dr is that almost all of Jack’s behaviour can be linked to massively untreated BPD. He needed meds and therapy, but he didn’t get them and he spiralled as a result.