#i'm so close to being done. just some more pieces and then details and then sewing it all together
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update on crochet dr ratio (featuring my needles as makeshift pins again)
we now have most of his clothing! he has a stupid amount of layers and i hate him for it but it's okay because he's cute
#crochet#crochet dr ratio#dr ratio#veritas ratio#amigurumi#fan crafts#crochet doll#the lighting is low key bad so you can't distinguish the black and navy blue#but I promise it is there#i'm so close to being done. just some more pieces and then details and then sewing it all together#i should probably actually find my pins because i keep poking myself with the needles#he has SO many layers and pieces to make and sew on#crocheting hsr characters is terrible do not recommend#anyway I think i'm going to make aventurine next#handmade#hsr#honkai star rail
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Hi! I loved your awkward chishiya flirting sooo much <3 The way you write is so in character even with him being nervous about showing affection. Can you write him being completely oblivious he’s liked yn the whole time they’ve been through the games; he thought he was just protecting them out of trying to be a better person until Kuina is like you moron you’re clearly in love w them!!
And he’s like oh fuck, what are feelings?? I have them?? His thought process as he tries to deny it and then him having some awkward interactions w yn bc he doesn’t know how to act now he’s aware he likes her and then is desperately trying to flirt with no idea how to at all
Tokens of Appreciation
Summary: Chishiya tells himself that he sees you only as a friend, despite doing his best to give you a gift.
Genre: fluff
Pairing: reader x chishiya
Words: 2.4k
Note: I tweaked this a little to show more of him being in denial and still in the middle of processing it ^^ I didn't want it to be too close to the other awkward flirting fic, but I hope you still like it! Also god, I;m so sorry it took more than a year ; O; Good news is that I'm almost done with my thesis, so I have a bit more time to write :DD
Chishiya set the screwdriver down with a frustrated sigh. The music box sat in front of him, open yet still without song. He saw this on the day of the six of clubs game. The car that was supposed to pick them up got a flat tire and stranded them for a good hour. As much as he hated the militants for their incompetence, he was grateful that he had extra time to scavenge around the nearby shops. It was in one of the metalwork stalls where he found it.
It was fairly light, small enough that you could hold it when you brought both hands together. The outside looked like a small pot, with the lid having scalloped edges. Ornate, gold vines swirled around the sides of the box, leading up to the front. At the center of it was a teardrop-shaped gemstone that refracted prisms under light. Inside was a small rabbit instead of a typical ballerina. It posed with its arms up mid-dance, pointy ears curved back as it looked up.
That was what made Chishiya decide that this was the perfect gift for you. At the beginning of your friendship—before you had worn down his walls with “incessant” conversation—you had off-handedly mentioned a memory of your childhood toy.
“Oh, look at that!” you picked up the small piece of candy. The packaging still boasted its classic colors of red, blue, white, and black. Turning around, you held it out to Chishiya. “I used to eat this all the time when I was a kid.”
He wrinkled his nose in disgust. This was the ninth room around the Beach that you’ve ‘investigated’—a fancy word you liked to use instead of ‘snooped around.’ “You don’t know how long that’s been there. Plus, you’ll get cavities.”
“Candy doesn’t expire,” you stuck your tongue out at him, swiftly unwrapping the sweet and popping it in your mouth. You smoothed out the wrapper, particularly the area around the illustrated rabbit.
“Somehow, I don’t think that’s true—”
“He looks like the bunny plush I had.” Chishiya knit his eyebrows in confusion before glancing at the wrapper. He shrugged, feigning indifference.
“All rabbits look the same.”
“No, idiot. This one has pointy ears instead of rounded ones.”
“What’s that?” Kuina’s voice nearly made him knock over the entire thing. He flinched, throwing a blanket over his project. Clearing his throat, he stood up and narrowed his eyes at the girl.
“What did I tell you about knocking?”
Despite his small frame blocking the table from view, Kuina side-stepped around him, swiftly pulling the cloth right off. He hissed, moving to take the music box, but Kuina was faster, swiping it off the table and bringing it up to her eye level.
“Wow,” she enunciated, dragging the word. “This is for them, isn’t it?”
“No,” he tried not to stutter. He reached for it before Kuina held it above him. Her eyes were glued to the meticulous details. “If you drop that, I will kill you next game and make it look like an accident.”
She chortled, throwing her head back. Her loudness grew on him—is what he always told himself. Being his only friend when the Beach was only starting to form, he learned quickly how to tolerate Kuina’s more bubbly personality.
“What’s it for? Their birthday coming up?”
“No. I’m just making sure all our pieces are in place.” Kuina let him nab the item back. She watched as he wrapped it in the blanket, tucking it safely back into a drawer.
“You totally like her,” she snorted.
“No, I don’t!” It came out too fast, too loudly. Chishiya’s face was starting to redden. His lips were pressed in a thin line, eyes downcast. It took a moment for him to collect himself. “We need her for the plan.”
“Yeah, right. It’s been half a year. Whatever long game you’re playing is over,” she smirked at him, plopping on his bed. “If anything, you’re the one getting played.”
“I don’t like her that way,” he crossed his arms defensively.
“Keep telling yourself that, lover boy,” Kuina chuckled, throwing a pillow at him. Chishiya swatted it away, face beet-red.
“Don’t call me that.”
“Call you what, lover boy?”
“Kuina!”
Three soft knocks interrupted their banter. Chishiya froze when you opened the door, slipping in with a mischievous grin. Your arms were behind your back, hands hidden from their view. A faint crinkling gave Chishiya a hint as to what you were holding.
You stepped towards him, making him instinctively block the drawer the music box was in. Your grin spread wider, making your cheeks look unbearably adorable. Wait, did he really think that?
“I have something for you,” you said almost teasingly. You thrust your hand to his chest, pressing a package of biscuits on him. He wasn’t religious, but he prayed that you couldn’t feel his heartbeat thrumming out his rib cage.
Glancing down, he gave the biscuits a curious look-over. The wrapper was pink and white, with small cartoon strawberries spread around it. Attempting to take it from you gently, his fingers grazed over the back of your hand, flustering you both. Quickly, you whipped your head towards Kuina, chucking her the other item.
She caught the lighter with ease, excitedly flicking it on. Kuina was certain the militants threw it out after the pool fire incident. Totally not your trio’s fault. “Woah! Where’d you get these?”
“I was in Tatta’s storage space,” you beamed proudly.
Chishiya’s blood curdled. He squeezed the biscuits, though still careful not to break them. Shifting his weight to one foot, he scrunched his face in distaste. “What were you doing with Tatta?”
“Nothing, we were just hanging out. Ann dragged him into the hallway for a quick conversation so I had time to ‘investigate,’” you motioned with air quotes.
“What are you hanging out with him for?” The blunt words left his mouth before he could process them.
His heart shrivelled a little when your smile faded. Taken aback, you clasped your hands, suddenly self-conscious. “I thought he was nice and making another friend around here didn’t seem like a bad idea.”
“Well, what if he’s just another sleaze like Niragi? You know how some of the men slobber like dogs here. And you’re in a closed space with just him? Just the two of you in a room? Together? Do you know how stupid that is? What if something happened and Kuina and I were in this room and we couldn’t hear you and—”
“What Chishiya is saying—” Kuina spoke over him, sending him a sharp glare despite her pinched smile. “—is that we just want you to be careful around here. I think Tatta is a fun guy too, but don’t let your guard down that easily okay?”
You nodded wordlessly, avoiding Chishiya’s eyes. Unbeknownst to you, his look softened, fingers releasing their tight grip on the biscuits. He slouched, silently berating himself for sounding so harsh, especially after you’ve just given him a gift. Oh god, you gave him a gift! He looked back at the cookies, strawberry-flavored no doubt. Perhaps it was your attention to detail that chipped at his armor. The way you remembered how he took two teaspoons of sugar with his tea and how you’d sometimes take his hoodie after a rough game and bring it back smelling of fabric softener.
Just normal things good friends would do for each other. Because that’s what you were—good friends.
“Chishiya?”
“What?” He blinked slowly, glancing at Kuina through silver hair framing his face.
“I said I’m gonna get us drinks from the bar. You sound like you need it.” She stood up, motioning for you to take her place on the bed. You shot her a small smile, though your mood has obviously been dampened.
Kuina passed near Chishiya, lowering her voice to whisper, “Fix your mess.”
When the door shut with a soft click, it was quiet for a few awkward moments. The room felt like a held breath, with Chishiya still standing, holding the biscuits like an idiot, while you were sitting on his bed, regarding him a huge eye sore in the middle of the spacious hotel room. Being a high-profile diamonds player bought him certain luxuries, despite how unnecessarily flashy he deemed them.
“I know you’re just looking out for me, but you really could be nicer sometimes.” He almost didn’t catch what you said, your voice soft. “I just wanted to get you something nice.”
He sighed, more so at his own stupidity. He pushed himself off the drawer and sat beside you, your knees touching. Pinching the corner of the wrapper, he ripped the packaging open, angling the biscuits towards you. Your knee tensed beside him, making guilt claw at his stomach more.
“Take one,” he said, almost demandingly. You huffed, gingerly taking a piece. It was a small, pillow-shaped shell. You bit into it, bringing your hand back to look at the strawberry filling inside. Chishiya hummed in approval as soon as the sweet cream hit his tongue.
Wordlessly, you shared the biscuits—his own form of apology. You scooted closer to him, a silent act of forgiveness he quickly picked up on. Always the clever man, yet he could never figure himself out.
“I just don’t want anything bad to happen to you. Anyone with eyes can see how beautiful you are. If anyone here tried anything on you, I’d have to put rat poison in their alcohol. Do you know how troublesome that is?” he wrinkled his nose, pointedly munching.
A grin crept into your face. Your eyes flitted towards his face, dark brown eyes meeting yours. “You think I’m beautiful?”
Chishiya was stunned for a second. Blood rushed to his cheeks and the furrow in his brows deepened. He stammered, “No. No! That’s not what I meant. I mean that I’m just worried about you!”
You brought your face just a tad bit closer to his. “You worry about me?”
“No, no! I mean, you’re just a good ally and I don’t have any other strong feelings about you. I’m doing this for the sake of our alliance—”
He didn’t notice as you took the last biscuit, gingerly pushing it against his lips. He froze, eyes wide as he took in your appearance. An orange glow from the setting sun wrapped around your silhouette. You looked heavenly, like an angel beckoning him to the next life. Despite all logic screaming at him, he would gladly take your hand and go wherever that may be.
You pushed the biscuit past his lips, the soft pair almost chasing after your fingertip as you pulled away. Curling your finger, you wiped the corner of his mouth with the edge of your knuckles. His breath stilled in his chest.
Chishiya leaned closer, your pull towards him magnetic. Shakily, he brought a hand up, about to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. He’s seen this move once before, during a promotional commercial for a drama. He was reviewing for his finals at the time, taking only a few seconds to stare coldly at his roommate because of how loud the TV was. Evidently, he never put it into practice before.
“Ow!” you jolted back, hands cupping your face. Somehow, despite his brilliant mind, he accidentally poked you in the eye. You grit your teeth in pain, globs of tears running down your cheek.
“Shit, I’m sorry!” He tried prying your eyes away from your face, using his free arm to wrap around your back. “I’m so sorry. Shit. Don’t rub it, it’ll get worse. Come here.”
Assisting you through your blurry vision, he managed to walk you to his bathroom. He turned the faucet on, making you bend over the sink. Forcing stillness into his hand, he caught the water, gently splashing it against your reddening eye. You hissed, jolting back at the contact, though a firm hand on your back kept you in place.
“I’m so sorry. I really didn’t mean to.” The distress was evident in his voice. You’ve never seen him in such shambles before, not even during games where he was at the brink of death.
“I know, ‘Shiya. It’s okay,” you managed to smile at him. He wiped your eyes with a soft towel, bringing it down for a second to gently grip your chin. He nudged your head up, only enough for him to check on your eye. He let out a deep sigh before pressing the towel back. At least the pain has died down a bit now. “How bad is it?”
“It’s not fatal.”
You snorted, hitting him lightly on the shoulder. His lips twitched almost into a grin, though he was still slouched over in embarrassment. “I can’t believe this is the thanks I get for feeding you.”
“I… I-I didn’t mean to. Honestly!” He shoved his other hand into his hoodie pocket. Suddenly, the floor was the most interesting thing in the room. You chuckled lightly at his antics. There was something so boyish about the way he stood, almost as if he wanted his hoodie to swallow him whole.
You brought your hand up, wrapping it around his on the towel. His cheeks heated up, though still defiant in meeting your gaze. You stroked the back of his hand with your thumb, surprised that he hasn’t pulled away yet.
“I’m sorry I poked your eye. I was just trying to…” he trailed off. How was he even going to explain himself out of this one? “There was dirt on your face. You should take a bath from time to time.”
“I do take baths!” you exclaimed, swatting at him again. You jabbed a finger to his chest, tone riddled with tease. “You’re just so obsessed with me.”
He finally allowed himself to smile, the smile that made everything feel normal again. At that moment, you weren’t players in the Borderland fighting for your life every other day. You were just two friends, for now. Chishiya is a tough nut to crack, but between your laughter sounding like tinkling bells and the euphoric buzz he gets from being around you, he’d be able to sort himself out. He just needs to take it one step at a time, starting with making that music box sing for you again.
Because that's what good friends do. God, he was such a good friend.
Back in the main room, the entrance door swung open, followed by the sound of glass bottles clinking against each other. Kuina proudly declared, “I got us the stuff!”
“Did you bring ice?” Chishiya called out to her.
“Of course!” Even from the bathroom, you could hear her huff.
“Good, because we need a bunch of it here.”
#alice in borderland imagines#chishiya shuntaro#chishiya alice in borderland#chishiya x reader#aib chishiya#aib imagines#imawa no kuni no alice#alice in borderland x reader#alice in borderland#chishiya imagine#aib x reader#chishiya shuntaro x reader#asks#requested
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Chapter 14: Don't Be A Bundt Cake
Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV, Soldier Boy POV
Summary: When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you never expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you're around him the more you hate him, but you can't help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team. (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!)
Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Not in this chapter), Slow Burn, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy, Protective Ben/Soldier Boy, Miscommunication Trope
Word Count: 13.1K
Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), Swearing, Mentions of Sex, Sexual Innuendo, Talks of Death, DENIAL, Idiots in Love, Pining by the Reader (and SB, but he won't admit it) Depressing Thoughts, Mentions of sexual assault/rape (not detailed at all, really just in passing) Talks about weed, Sexist comments, Ben makes derogatory comments, Threatening Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.
Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!
Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.
Spotify Playlist 🪴
Series Masterlist
Main Masterlist
A/N: I am so sorry this one took me a bit longer. The writers block was fighting me the whole way, but we are very closely nearing the end of this series and the moment the reader and Ben stop being so stinkin' stubborn.
Reader POV
You lean your forehead against the cool window, watching the world flash by in a flurry of color. The wooded forests had vanished hours ago and all that was left were the yellowed sprawling fields of corn and grain and family farms that were laid sporadically along the interstate. Each one a little world that caught the flecks of golden sunlight as the sun began to peak above the horizon.
The bus rolled smooth and steady over the weathered pavement towards it's destination and was filled with an odd assortment of people young and old. There was man with a brightly colored parrot that had been singing "It's A Small World After All" since you left NYC, a woman with a little boy playing with an iPad and who refused to turn down the volume no matter how many times his mother asked him to, a group of teenagers a few seats up that continued to pass around a flask, and due to how far back you were sitting on the bus an uncomfortable smell emanated from the bathroom each time the door was opened.
But you didn't notice any of it.
The only thing on your mind were the events that happened almost twenty hours ago. They continued to circle your mind, playing over and over again like a perverted cassette tape making you sink further into the worn cloth covered seat at the back of the bus. The images were haunting, some new and some old, but all the more still horrible to re-live.
The song "Nights In White Satin" floating into the backseat of your family's car, the flash of unnatural light you knew was never lightning, the caskets at your parent's funeral covered in flowers that were much to pretty to lay on something so morbid, Elijah's body succumbing to the poppies that ripped him apart, the proud sneer on your brother's face when he admitted to killing your parents, Darren's broken and bloodied body strewn in pieces over the street with the creature standing over him with a dripping red maw, the ruined building that housed "Please Don't Die" reduced to nothing more than rubble, and the look on Ben's face when you turned your back on him and fled the scene.
For some reason that particular image seemed to cling on to you and refused to fade. You'd never seen him look that way, almost… helpless and a little fearful. In all the time you'd known him, Ben had never looked at you that way. Sure you'd seen him proud, angry, cocky, lustful, mischievous, but never fearful. And you were sure that it wasn't an emotion that he was used to feeling, but that begged the question… why?
Why was he looking at me like that? Why wouldn't he let me go? And what was he afraid of?
The creature curled in your lap snorts something in it's sleep, turning it’s head further into the cradle of your elbow to shut out the brilliant early morning sunlight. It was now the size of a toaster and had warranted several odd looks whenever you got off to change buses, but you didn't care.
You weren't sure about anything anymore. Everything your brother confessed to you made you feel like you were living a lie and the revelation of exactly what your powers could do- take life from plants to heal yourself, create whatever the hell it was on your lap, and speak to plants… it scared you.
You thought for so long that you knew everything about your powers, that you were in control, but now you weren't sure.
You felt different, as if something had unlocked deep down that you couldn't shut up again.
You'd felt different after you killed Elijah, but this was more alive, weaving and twisting in the pit of your stomach. You felt more connected to the earth, to the world outside the bus even though you were divided by glass and metal. You could feel the energy that thrummed through the body of the creature on your lap, bending to your will, the life force of the plants it was formed from molding with you, becoming a part of you.
You felt so different than the person you had been before Darren entered the shop, so uncertain, and there was only one place you wanted to be when you felt like this… home. You couldn't wait to run up the worn front steps of your grandmother's house and into her arms. She always knew what to say in times like this.
And you desperately needed the comfort of her embrace.
The phone in your pocket buzzes again and you flip the screen to see the ridiculous selfie Annie and you had taken on Halloween last year. The one that you'd both spent dressed up as the two brothers from your favorite paranormal tv show. It wasn't the first time she'd called. Annie had called and texted you more times than you could count over the past twenty hours but you didn't answer her. You didn’t want to.
It was the first time that you didn't want to talk to her, but talking to her meant that you'd have to re-live all of it again and you were clawing at the last shred of sanity you had left to keep it together.
The overwhelming waves of emotion kept pummeling you, dragging you deeper beneath the white surf. Each one brought the memories of what happened surging over you and were followed by everything that Darren said to you. Years of taking care of Darren and doing whatever he wished were tearing at your soul, years of giving up little things in your life to make him happy, and years of taking care of a man who you thought cared about you, but hated you enough to kill your parents and try to kill you too.
It made your skin crawl. Each time your brother told you that he loved you was an even bigger lie and now that you knew the truth and saw him for what he was, it felt like you were drowning. The darkness that ebbed just on the edge was begging you to leap into the abyss, but you were resisting the best you could.
The tears had stopped falling miles ago, but you couldn't stop the memories or the emotion that formed a cold ball in the pit of your stomach.
A sigh works it's way up and you pull your legs on the seat underneath you, jostling the creature on your lap that raises it's head for a moment to blink it's black eyes at you sleepily.
It was surprisingly docile right now, especially considering that twenty hours ago it had ripped your brother to shreds. In fact it seemed to understand how upset you were and had spent the better part of the last twenty hours rubbing it's head against your arm as if trying to bring you some comfort. It was settled on your lap, the weight of it a comfort, almost like a weighted plushy that gave you something to focus on.
"It's alright buddy." You whisper, scratching him under his chin. "We're almost home."
The phone in your jacket pocket buzzes again, but when you pull it out to turn it off, you catch a glimpse of the screen, and you hesitate. Because this time it's not Annie who's calling, it’s Ben.
The picture that flashes on the screen under the contact name "Gramps" is the picture of Mr. Fredrickson from Up. It always made you smile whenever he called you and you saw the picture because Ben did often remind you of him. He was certainly just as grumpy as Mr. Fredrickson and just as out of touch, but you thought it was cute.
Your thumb hovers over the answer button and you think about talking to him.
But what would I say?
You weren't sure what to say to him, or why you wanted to speak to him so badly, why you wanted him to be sitting here on the bus with you as you went home, and why you wanted him to hold you against his chest while you allowed yourself to break, but you did. You wanted to feel his awkward shoulder pat and his awkward version of hand holding and you wanted to hear him try to tell you to "buck up" or whatever he thought that a comforting word should be.
He's really not the best at that.
You smile to yourself at the memory of how he tried to comfort you back at the hospital, but the longer you sit there and look down at the picture on the screen the worse you feel.
Maybe that scared you more than your newfound powers, how much you were realizing that you needed him, how much you depended on him when things got too much for you to bear. The memory of him appearing as soon as you needed him back at the shop, another of him grabbing Darren and throwing him into the street as soon as Darren insulted you comes in a flash, and finally followed by the memory of Ben carrying you out of Elijah's office while you curled into his chest. You couldn't remember too much from that moment, in fact you'd thought that Ben had kissed you on top of your head, but you ascribed that to the haze of pain you'd been in from your broken arm.
What you did remember was how wonderfully warm he was after you'd been trapped in that damn freezer and how nice it felt to be in his arms. Another memory of Ben sleeping on the couch at the hospital bubbles up and you feel something in your chest begin to crack open. And you try your best to tell yourself the same thing that you always do when you feel like Ben might care more about you that he was letting on.
Ben doesn't want that. He's made it perfectly clear. He doesn't want a relationship. He's only wants one night, that's why he goes out with all those women-
You hesitate, thumb still hovering over the answer button as you do, the memory of the week you'd spent at the apartment with him flickering in the back of your mind. The week where he refused to leave you alone in the apartment, where he refused to do any jobs for Butcher, where he took care of you the best way he could, when he sat with you on the couch and made you laugh with his ridiculous movies, and the week where he hadn't had one date.
Your finger itched to answer the phone, but you couldn't, because you didn't want to feel this way about Ben, not when he'd told you countless times that you kept romanticizing him, not when he told you that he didn't want a relationship, and not when you could feel yourself beginning to fall for someone you thought was the wrong man.
For just a moment you tried to pretend that it was different, that he was different, but you didn't want to. It only made it hurt more.
The phone stops ringing, but the pit in your stomach still gapes open at you and for the first time in twenty hours you feel tears begin to fall. You didn't know why you were crying about this, why the thought of not picking up Ben's phone call seemed to hurt more than everything that had happened, but something made it hurt.
The bus driver announces over the overhead that you're reaching your final destination as he takes the exit for your hometown. The familiar buildings that line the streets are sheathed in a honeyed glow from the sun, the long shadow of the bus darkening them momentarily as it rumbles down the small streets to the bus station.
When it rumbles to a stop at the bus station you wait for everyone else to get off, trying to summon the strength to stand, and swipe the back of your hand across your face to rid yourself of the remaining tears.
The bus station was about a thirty minute walk from your grandmother's house, and you still hadn't called her. You didn't know what to say, didn't know how to tell her that Darren was dead and that he was the reason why your parents were dead.
The creature crawls up your body to drape it's warm body over the back of your neck as you stand. It wasn't bothering to hide, besides the people in your hometown already thought that you were odd because you were a supe and you'd always welcomed it. You give him a scratch on top of his head and his warm tongue flicks on the bottom of your earlobe as if thanking you before it curls further into the side of your neck, seeking warmth.
The first few steps on solid ground are shaky, but you find the strength while taking in a deep cleansing breath of the outside world, letting the gentle warmth of the sun and the tickle of the autumn breeze pull at your coat. You hadn't stopped at your apartment before coming here, instead you had stumbled your way to the bus station covered in dust, flecked in blood, and demanded the first ticket back to Illinois. It was lucky that the next bus was leaving immediately, because you didn’t want to spend another second in NYC, not when all you wanted was to be home.
Plus you were worried that someone had recorded what exactly happened outside the plant shop and you didn't want to get arrested.
It was self defense anyway. Maybe Jake would represent me in court.
The thought of Jake makes you twinge. You hadn't checked to see if he was alright before you ran from the scene. Not to mention you'd destroyed the shop he'd put all his life savings into after he stopped being a lawyer.
Oh fuck, what if he sues me? He can't exactly sue Darren…
You hear someone call your name and you open your eyes.
Your grandmother is standing in front of the same baby blue pickup truck that she'd had longer than you've been alive, wearing a long multicolored skirt and a pressed white blouse tucked elegantly into it. Her silver hair is loose and long, curling over her shoulders in gentle waves. She looks the same way she looked one week ago when she left, and you've never seen anything so beautiful in your life.
You're running before you can stop yourself, crumbling into her warm embrace, with more tears streaking down your face, but she doesn't mind.
"Shh. It's alright honey." She whispers, rubbing her hand over your back, her embrace steady and surprisingly strong. "Let's go home."
Her home is the same as it's always been. A two story Victorian house painted in a happy yellow shade, with a white wrap around porch and two white rocking chairs sitting empty on the front porch. You'd spent more nights than you could count rocking silently beside her with a crochet project in your lap listening to the rain fall and soak the world outside, while the plants sang praises with every gentle bend beneath the heavy droplets.
You could barely remember the home you spent in your early years with your parents, not when you'd spent most of your childhood spending the night here and after your parents died living here permanently. There was still a large oak tree were a wooden swing swung in the slight breeze on the left side of the yard, a gardenia bush that stretched as high as the second story on the right side of the house and brushed it's soft leaves against the sunshine colored outer walls, a garden filled with both flowering plants and herbs that perked up on both sides of the front yard as you walked up the path, and a cobblestone path that Annie and you had spent hours of your shared childhood covering in chalk art.
Neither of you were good, but when the rain would fall and smudge the clean lines, you'd jump in the puddles that pooled along the walkway singing the lyrics to ABBA's "Cassandra" not quite understanding what it meant.
Standing here outside your house made you miss Annie and feel worse about not calling or texting her back, but you didn't feel like talking about what happened and you were sure that Butcher filled her in. The only thing that you wanted was to collapse in your bedroom upstairs and curl under the comforters.
Despite everything the house was a welcome sight, but at the same time it was different. You could feel the plants calling out to you, asking for you, bending towards you just to touch your shoes as you walked by. You'd never felt so connected with them before, not even when you were in your apartment or working at the shop. It was overwhelming.
And although a part of you was frightened by it, another part of you rejoiced in it. You didn't feel alone, didn't feel weak, and you knew that you never would ever again.
The creature nuzzled into the side of your neck with a sigh, soaking up the sun's healing rays as you walked up the front steps with your grandmother following behind you silently. She hadn't spoken since she picked you up at the bus station and you hadn't supplied anything in the ten minute car ride back to her house.
You didn't know where to start and you were still trying to process everything yourself.
The inside of her house was just as cozy and warm as it was the day you moved out. There were photos of your parents and you covering the walls (Darren's had been placed in the closet long ago), half-finished knitting projects sorted in different baskets on both the dining room table and the living room coffee table, spools of yarn were strewn over the couch sorted by color, and the fresh smell of gardenia wafted through the open windows on the breeze.
It was home. This was what you'd been missing the moment everything began to crash over you, but as you stood there in the familiar living room it felt like something was missing. Something tugged at the back of your mind, but you couldn't put your finger on it.
There was something or rather someone that should be here, but you didn't know what or who. And your mind supplied Annie, but you weren't sure that's who you meant.
"Let's have some tea." Your grandmother says from behind you and you feel her soft hands come down on your shoulders to steer you through the familiar creative chaos and into the large kitchen at the back of the house.
The kitchen isn't spared from the madness, it rarely was. There are boxes upon boxes of cookies in different stages of being packaged all over the counter, dirty bowls and a measuring cup stacked in the sink, and a large opened bag of chocolate chips spilling over the flour covered kitchen island.
It wasn't unusual to find the kitchen or the house in a state of chaos, your grandmother always said that a house should look lived in and that the mess was part of the fun of any major project as long as you were responsible enough to clean it up.
"Bake sale?" You ask as you sit down in the breakfast nook, uttering the first words that you'd said to another human being in twenty hours.
The next breath that you inhale was supposed to be cleansing, but you can still feel a weight pressing down on your chest, the same one that settled in the moment everything happened with Darren.
You contemplate again how you're going to tell her that Darren is dead and was the reason why your parents died.
Damn it Darren.
"Mhmm." She hums, filling the well used red kettle. "Annie's mother practically cornered me in the supermarket yesterday and begged me to make cookies. I love Annie, but her mother needs someone to pull that stick out of her ass. It's been up there for so long that I'm sure it's rotten."
The creature crawls down from your shoulders and down your arm to sniff at one of the chocolate chip cookies nearest you. It hadn't eaten since…
Darren.
You wince slightly at the thought and hope that you hadn't created something that needed and craved human flesh. The last thing you wanted to unleash on the world was Audry two especially in the wake of Homelander.
Truthfully you were waiting for the guilt at killing your brother to come, but it never had and you wondered if it ever would.
Probably not. He deserved that, he killed our parents, he tried to kill me, he tried to kill Ben.
The thought of Ben again makes a lump form in the back of your throat. You didn't know what was happening to you only that you felt guilty for leaving him like that, for yelling at him to let you go, and just vanishing on him when he probably thought that you were going back to the apartment.
He doesn't know where I am. Maybe that's why he tried to call, because he got back to the apartment and couldn't find me there and he was worried. You press your lips together. Yeah. Worried. Right.
"Honey?" Your grandmother says in a soothing voice
You look up from the box of chocolate chip cookies that you didn't remember picking up. Even the creature is looking at you with an expression that you can only explain as worry.
"Yeah?" Your voice shakes slightly.
She's leaning back against the counter, arms crossed over her chest, head tilted slightly to the side, her beautiful grayed hair pulled up in an elegant bun, but in her eyes you can see genuine concern. "Fuck." She sighs after a minute.
You blink in surprise. It was the first time that you'd ever heard her say that word in your entire life.
"I shouldn't have left." She breathes. "I told Ben to look out for you. I told him, that little bastard was bound to show up again and what did he do? He left you at that plant shop alone with no protection!"
You'd only seen her really angry a handful of times in your lifetime. Like you, your grandmother often had a gentle disposition and didn't get angry unless the situation called for it.
I mean, Darren admitted to killing our parents and then got fucking ripped apart. But how does she know about any of that? I haven't told her…
"How did you know that he left me there? Did Ben call you?" You ask putting down the box of cookies.
An odd expression crosses her face, as if she's contemplating something. "No." She hesitates again. "I saw it."
"No." Your grandmother hesitates. "I saw it."
"You saw it?" You repeat, confused.
What's going on?
"Too late of course, but I'm a little rusty. I was able to warn Ben that Darren was coming back. That's how he got there so quickly or rather-" She shrugs sheepishly. "He got there in time to make sure that Darren didn't get you to forgive him. Which you shouldn't have at all, but I know he's always had a talent for manipulating you."
"What?"
Is she saying what I think she's saying?
Instead of explaining further your grandmother walks out of the kitchen, leaving the kettle behind on the stove and you in a state of utter confusion.
Is she saying that she can see the future? Because that would mean that she's a supe and there's only one supe in history that I know of that can do that. A supe that no one has seen in over forty years.
You can hear her open the door to the closet under the stairs and the sound of her sifting through all the junk that the two of you had shoved in there over the years instead of finding the right place to put it.
When she comes back into the kitchen, she's holding a giant cardboard file box that you'd never paid attention to each time you opened the closet to find something. Your eyes shift from the box to her still not comprehending exactly what she was saying.
"I probably should have told you this a while ago, but…" She trails off and nods her head at the box before turning back to the kettle on the stove that has begun to scream. "I kept putting it off."
The box is old, worn at the edges, and theres a musty black fabric beneath a collection of yellowed photographs. You pull out the one on top to examine it.
Ben is standing there in his full Soldier Boy regalia outside of Vought tower and the woman standing next to him is Soothsayer. The outfit she wore was familiar, a black-skin tight suit with a blind fold tied over her eyes.
Soothsayer was a supe who could see the future and who was apart of Payback, a supe that had vanished a year before the mission in Nicaragua and no one knew where she went. There were rumors that she'd died and that she'd been a Russian spy, but you'd never believed them. You'd heard Butcher talk about how he tried to find her when he was trying to figure out what happened to Soldier Boy, but he never had. Said that the trail went cold.
But now you knew where she went, because she was standing directly in front of you.
She's Soothsayer? Holy fuck that's why Ben kept accusing her of cheating in the poker game because he knew that she could see the future.
"You were Soothsayer?" You gasp. "But why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you tell me?"
She continues to measure the tea leaves. "I didn't tell anyone."
"Grandpa didn't know? But he was alive when you were a supe?"
Your grandfather had never spoken about a history with supes that you remember.
"No." She turns to look at you, a hurt expression crossing over her face for a minute. "Well, I know that I said I was going to have tea, but if we're going to talk about this I'm going to need something a little bit stronger."
Your grandmother opens a cabinet under the stove an pulls out an enormous bottle of scotch. Truth be told you'd never seen her drink more than just a glass of wine, to see her like this was about as shocking as seeing a polar bear sunning itself on a Florida beach.
"Do you still want the blueberry tea or do you need something a little stronger?" She looks back over her shoulder at you as she pulls down a glass for herself.
"I think I need something stronger." You answer honestly.
Learning about everything Darren had done was one thing, but finding out that your grandmother used to be a famous supe and that she never told you about it was another thing. It was like looking at another person. You'd always loved your grandmother's gentle way, her care for her community and her family soft, but now you weren't sure you really knew who she was.
She sits down across from you and hands you a glass of the amber colored liquid. There's a heavy silence that hangs between the two of you as she tries to find a way to start. The photo of her and Ben is laying on top of what you realize is her uniform inside the box and she smiles down at the photo, just a little twitch at the corner of her lips.
"I met Ben when I was twenty three years old." She begins taking a sip from the glass. "Legend 'discovered' me. I had the injection of Compound V maybe two years before that, not when I was born, but I hadn't gotten popular. Other powers were much more flashy and by then there were so many heroes coming out of the woodwork that someone with the ability to see the future didn't seem as marketable."
There's something reflected in her blue eyes, the same eyes your father had, that you can't place. "I had just moved to New York, I had no money, and the way I was getting it was by pretending to be a fortune teller and betting on some sports events on the side. It wasn't hard to prove that I could see the future, the past was more difficult, but Legend somehow stumbled into my shop and figured out that I was a supe. And he didn't think I was too bad looking so he helped me get big."
"You pretended to be a fortune teller?"
She snorts into her glass. "Mhmm. People really will believe anything if they're desperate enough and back then there was so much turmoil going on with Russia that people were scared and wanted to feel comforted. My job provided some of that."
"But why did you walk away from it if you were such a big hero." You ask. "Everyone knew your name, you were-"
Your grandmother raises an eyebrow at you and you fall silent so she can continue. "When I got onto Payback that's when everything exploded for me, the films, the commercials, the ridiculous ads." She sighs. "That's also when I met Ben."
You take a sip from the glass in front of you, sputtering slightly. It was stronger than you were expecting. "And you two were-"
Please don't say dating, please don't say dating, please don't say…
"Friends. Just friends." Diana sits back against the back of the breakfast nook, sinking into the navy blue pillows. "But he is almost as charming now as he was then."
You cringe at the thought of Ben coming on to a younger version of your grandmother.
She taps her glass with her index finger deep in thought. "But I think that I was the only person that Ben actually talked to, the only person that he was comfortable being around."
"What do you mean?" You ask confused. "Didn't he talk to Countess and to Legend?"
Her expression hardens at the mention of Countess's name. "He didn't talk to her the way he talked to me. Ben is difficult, he always has been and I think that most of the people he meet him write him off as this asshole with a chauvinistic look on the world, but he's not. At least, not all the time. There are so many people that he's met that are never willing to take a chance on him. To trust that there is really something beneath all of that bravado."
It was what you had been thinking for the past week, that there was more to Ben than he was willing to let people see, but you were slowly realizing that Ben was letting you see those parts. In the quiet moments at your shared apartment when he sat with you while you read or made you laugh or walked you to and from work you saw another side of Ben that you never saw when he was around anyone else. The guilt rises again when you think of how you ran from him, how you turned your back and left him standing there to clean up your mess.
I shouldn’t have done that, but it was all just so overwhelming and I didn't want to talk to anyone.
"I think that Ben is the most loyal friend I ever had. No one ever seems to believe me when I say that. That we were just friends, but nothing happened between us."
"You didn't date? Or sleep together?" You ask cautiously. It was difficult to imagine Ben being friends with a woman and not having a sexual relationship with her.
Well. We're friends, but that's different.
The last thing you wanted to think about was Ben and your grandmother having sex.
I would need so much therapy after that. You sigh. Yeah, because after all the shit I've been through and found out about my life in the last twenty hours, the knowledge that Ben fucked my grandmother is what's going to push me over the edge.
"No." She shakes her head with a small smile. "About a week after I met Ben, I was running late to a movie shoot and I stepped off the crosswalk without looking. There was a car coming and I didn't see it. Ironic isn't it?" She laughs at herself. "I can see the future and I didn't see a car coming, but your grandfather did and he grabbed the back of my jacket and yanked me onto the sidewalk, saved my life. And the second my eyes locked with his I saw our future. I saw our wedding, our first house, I saw our son take his first steps and I saw how much I would love him and how much he would love me." She clears her throat for a minute, her fingers tighten on the glass, and her gaze drops to the wedding ring on her left hand. “The future is never set in stone, it’s fluid. It morphs and shapes with your decisions, but in the future I saw, I was so happy. And I didn’t want to lose that.”
Your grandfather had passed a few years ago, but you knew it weighed on her everyday. She had spent the week after he died in her room not saying anything to anyone. And sometimes she'd look out the window into the backyard with an odd expression, but you knew that meant she was thinking of him.
Growing up you'd seen how in love the two of them were, more so than your parents. Seen the flowers your grandfather always brought home just because he was thinking of her, watched him do little things around the house without being asked, saw how they never walked away angry from one another, and seen the soppy expression he'd get when he watched your grandmother move around the kitchen baking with a grace that you'd never possessed.
You reach across the table to touch her hand and she takes it gratefully.
"I didn't want to tell him that I was a supe, and at the beginning I thought I could balance it all, but then Ben started dating Countess." She takes another sip from her glass. "She hated me."
"What? Why?" You ask. The creature crawls across the table to sniff at the glass in front of you, before it snorts and falls into your lap, curling into a ball.
"Countess was a bitch." Your grandmother says mirthlessly, her expression hardening. "She wanted to possess Ben completely. Only loved how famous he was, how popular it made her, and he threw himself at her feet, in his own way, not understanding that love didn’t look that way. He’s never had a good example of it in his life. And she never understood that Ben and I were just friends. By then I had been dating your grandfather for a few months and things were getting serious. It was about a year before everything that happened in Nicaragua."
She presses her lips together as if remembering what happened to Ben there. "She was jealous, possessive, and she came to me one night. Ben was out of town for a film so she knew we wouldn’t be interrupted. She threatened to tell your grandfather who I really was and threatened to kill him.” Her jaw sets. “My powers were never really as offensive as hers were. And she said that Ben wouldn’t ever protect me over her because he loved her and would do anything to make her happy. So I left and I never looked back.”
And here I thought I couldn't hate Countess any more than I did for what she did to Ben.
“You didn’t talk to him ever again?” You wonder out loud.
She left without telling him goodbye?
“There was the occasional phone call. Sometimes Ben would ask me to see who was going to win a ball game or something so he could make a few bucks. He stopped by to say hi a few times because he was in the neighborhood. One time he brought your father a baseball glove that was way too big for a one year old.” She snorts, the memory flashing in her eyes. “I always thought Ben would be a good dad some day. But I think seeing your father was when Ben realized how much he wanted to have kids. And I think seeing the way your grandfather treated me made him start to feel conflicted about Countess. But he respected that I walked away, he saw that I was happy.”
“But what about Nicaragua?"
A dark look crosses her face followed by something that looks suspiciously like guilt. “I saw what they were going to do to him.”
“What? But why didn't you tell him what they were planning? Why didn't you-"
"I tried." She snaps, shoulders tense, but then they drop. "I called Ben, but Stan answered. By then your father was turning two, your grandfather had opened up his practice, and Stan threatened me, he knew where we were and knew everything about us. So I kept my mouth shut and I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.”
You could feel your heart breaking for her.
Ben was her best friend and she had to sit by and watch them do that to him. She saw what they were going to do and they were going to kill her for it, kill my family for it.
The anger that surges in your chest makes the creature in your lap stir and grow a few inches, but you tamp it down before it gets bigger than a small dog.
“Does Ben know?” You ask her to distract yourself.
You didn't want Ben to hate your grandmother for this, didn't want him to hate her for something that wasn't her fault.
She nods. “Yes. I told him everything.”
“When?”
“The moment I saw him in your hospital room. I couldn’t keep it in any longer. I wasn't expecting him to be there, but it all poured out of me. I was so surprised to see him there. I hadn't seen a future where he came back."
“Was he mad?”
I mean… he didn't seem mad when I woke up, not to mention he was upset when she left to come back to Illinois.
“Not at me.” She shakes her head. “He knew how much I wanted a normal life and how much I loved your grandfather. He doesn’t blame me for any of it.”
“Good. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”
The glass in front of you is still more than half-full but you don't want to risk another sip of what you're sure is gasoline packaged to look like Scotch. Your grandmother reaches to pour herself another glass.
“I didn’t want to until you were ready.”
“And when would that be?”
Your grandmother shrugs. “Maybe on my deathbed.”
You weren't angry for her not telling you, more surprised, but now that you knew everything about her it was hard to see her the same way you had.
You snort. “And no one knew?”
“Your dad figured it out.”
“How? When?”
“The moment you made that strawberry plant grow from your high chair.” She shakes her head with a smile. “It skipped a generation. Don’t know why, but you got it all somehow.”
“I was never injected?”
“No. That was a lie your father created. He knew that your grandfather didn't know and he knew that I didn't want your grandfather to know."
“Darren thought I was.”
“I know.”
At the mention of your brother's name, you watch her expression harden and she takes another swig from the glass in front of her, not flinching as the liquid goes down her throat.
“Did you see everything that happened?” You ask in a small voice.
You still weren't 100% sure how it was her powers worked, but you figured that she was able to see some of what Darren did and what he said.
“Yes.”
“You heard everything Darren said?"
“Yes.”
You chew the inside of your cheek for a minute hoping that she didn't take it as hard as you did. “Did you know that he killed them?”
“No.” She breathes, rolling the glass between her hands for a moment. “The night they died, I got a vision a few minutes before the car ran off the road. I was the one who called the police and who told them where to look, but I never saw that it was Darren or that it was anyone causing the accident. All I saw was the three of you in the car. I should have known.” Her voice breaks.
“It’s not your fault.” You squeeze her hand.
“And it’s not yours either.” She squeezes your hand back.
The memories are beginning to float up from the recesses of your mind and your teeth clench together as you try to keep them at bay.
“I know.” You breathe. The memory of the ruined shop flashes through your head. “I didn’t know that I could do something like that.” You gently touch your healed right arm and glance at the creature that is nibbling on the edge of the cardboard box with its sharp splinter-like teeth. “I feel so different and I don’t know how to go back to the way I was.”
“I don’t think you ever will.”
"Really?"
The thought was unwelcome. You were hoping that all of this was going to blow over, but you knew it wouldn't. Your powers had changed. There was an energy that thrummed in your veins now, stretching out of the house to the plants that grew in the garden. You could feel them all if you concentrated.
She frowns. “When you told me that you were working for Butcher I was worried about you getting involved in the supe world. I didn’t want that life for you, didn’t want you to suffer the way I did-“
“Was it really that bad?"
“Not all the time, just at the end. But I think that’s why I loved your grandfather so much. Because he was different than all the supes. He was down to earth, not just normal but-“ She shrugs. “I think Compound V does something to our minds, makes them more susceptible and when you’re surrounded by people using their powers and thinking that they’re gods it’s easy to lose who you are. I was glad I left when I did."
“Great." You huff, thinking about how your powers had grown exponentially since you killed your brother. It was scaring you to think that you would reach a point where you acted like Homelander, where you saw yourself as a god and killed anyone who stood in your way.
As tired as the stereotype of you only being able to make the flowers grow, you liked doing that. You liked healing plants, tending to them, and helping them grow. For you it had never been about using your powers the way that you had to kill Elijah and your brother and had always been about spreading a little more joy and love like your grandmother did with her kindness in her community.
Your mind flashes back to the first night that Ben stayed with you in your apartment and he'd asked you why you worked for Butcher and told you that he thought you "didn't fit."
Before you hadn't. You knew that. You weren't intimidating to look at or fueled by revenge or had a bone to pick with supes. You'd joined because you thought it was the right thing to do and because you wanted to be closer with Annie. She had been so involved in the supe world and you'd felt like you were losing your best friend. When in reality being at "Please Don't Die" was the only thing that felt natural for you.
You could feel yourself changing and you weren't sure that you wanted to and you weren't sure if you were changing for the better. Deep down you still felt like you, despite everything Darren had revealed, but your powers were greater than you'd thought they could be.
“No.” She squeezes your hand pulling you out of your head. “I don’t see you losing yourself in this.”
“You’ve seen-“ Your eyes widen.
“The future yeah.” Her lips twitch up at the ends in a smile. “It is what I do.”
“That’s so weird.”
You hadn't meant to say it, but you really didn't want to know too much about your future.
Well, not all that much. Maybe just a little.
“You of all people have no right to judge what’s weird. Not with Godzilla sitting in your lap.”
"Godzilla" yawns, flashing a mouthful of his pointy teeth, before settling back down on your thighs.
You smile for the first time in twenty hours, but then it drops. “I don’t like losing control. I thought I knew who I was but now I don’t-“ The emotions were bubbling up again, chest tightening, and lungs beginning to gasp for air. “I don’t know who I am anymore or what I am or what I can do and-“
“There’s nothing wrong with not being in control.”
“But what if I hurt someone? What if I kill-“ You body shakes as you think about all the important people in your life, Annie, Hughie, Butcher, Kimiko, MM, Frenchie- and then your mind stutters on Ben.
“Your powers are growing and there’s nothing to be afraid of or ashamed of. If you’re afraid of them it won’t get easier for you. You have to embrace the fear to see the lights that line the path through it.”
"I killed Darren, I killed Elijah-"
"Not because you lost control. You did it because you were protecting yourself and protecting your friends."
"But-"
"Who is it that you're scared of hurting? Annie?" Her expression turns sympathetic. "Annie is a supe and understands what it's like to lose control. None of us are in control all the time and it's ridiculous to believe that you won't lose control at least once."
Your throat clenches tightly, because when she asked the question you didn't see Annie's face, you saw Ben's. You knew that it was probably ridiculous to worry about hurting a guy with a nuclear reactor stuffed in his chest or a guy who'd been through every torture known to man, but you were. And you weren't entirely sure if you meant hurting him with just your powers.
Tears crest and fall down your cheeks as you sit there, throat thickening. "I don't want to hurt Ben."
"He's a little more indestructible than us sweetie." She cracks a smile, but you can't smile back and you don't answer because you're unsure how to.
She sits back against the breakfast nook and sighs, examining your face and slowly realizes what you mean. "Ben is complicated. He always has been. I like to think that most of it, is his father's fault. Has he told you anything about him?"
You shake your head.
"He was a dick. Made Ben think that he was a disappointment his whole life. I don't think that Ben has had someone love him unconditionally since his mother died. And loving Countess only made it worse for him. Her love was jealous, possessive, and I don't think that he's really come to terms with what real love should look like." She lets out a breath, tapping her index finger against the glass. "I never saw him as more than a friend, but I do love him. It's not a crime to love him."
"I don't love him." You say it immediately.
"Why not?"
"What?" You sputter. "I don't know what you're-"
"Tell me why you don't love him." Your grandma says methodically, as if she's trying to talk you through it.
"Because I-" The pressure was back in the back of your throat and you couldn't quite meet her eye. "Because-" You scramble for the answer, trying your darndest to keep your heart from clenching in your chest. "I want what you and grandpa had, what Annie and Hughie have, and what my parents had. A strong relationship with someone who sees all my flaws, the little parts, and the darkness and still choses to fall in love with me anyway. I don't want just one night I want every night. I want something real and Ben has said countless times that he-"
"So you've talked about it with Ben?" She raises an eyebrow.
"Only because he kept trying to sleep with me and I told him that I didn't want to have sex with him." You reply exasperated.
"You don't?"
"Gran!"
"What? He's attractive."
"It doesn't matter. None of it does. Because Ben has said that he doesn't have relationships, that he doesn't care about feelings, or emotions." Saying the words that Ben had told you countless times made something inside begin to shrivel up and die. "And I do. And I don't want to manipulate him into being something he's not or force him into a relationship that's doomed from the beginning. Ben is Ben. He's not changing or-"
"He has." She interrupts.
"What?"
"The Ben I saw in your hospital room is not the one I knew." She says it so matter of fact that makes it hard to breathe. "And neither was the one that I saw in your apartment when I stayed with you. I mean he is in essence Ben, but-"
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"He is changing. Not completely, but he's acting differently than when he was with Countess. I mean, I saw all the things he did for her. The way he was around her."
"Why does that matter?"
"Because he loved her."
The words make your heart seize in your chest. "Ben doesn't love me. He's my roommate and my friend-" It was the same thing that you kept telling yourself on repeat to beat back the other feelings that you hadn't quite identified yet. "And he's told me that he doesn't want a relationship and that I should try to meet other people."
That last part was a lie, but you honestly didn't know where she was going with this conversation or why it was getting so hard to breathe.
"Have you thought that maybe Ben doesn't want to love you because he's scared?"
"He doesn't love me and Ben isn't afraid of anything."
"He is. It might not look the same way on him as it does on everyone else, but if you pay close enough attention you can catch it." She hesitates. "And I think if you pay attention to you, you'll see what it is that you're afraid of too."
What does she mean? What the hell am I afraid of? Ben isn't afraid of anything, he's practically shouted that from the mountaintops like Julie Andrews.
"I already told you what I'm afraid of."
"I'm not talking about you hurting someone honey. There's something else that you refuse to admit to yourself because you're scared." She smiles sadly at you. "You should though, because when you embrace it, what comes after is really beautiful." There's a far off look in her eyes and you realize that she'd seen something further ahead that she wasn't letting on.
"And it's all I want for you. To be happy." Your grandmother stands from the other side of the booth "I think you need some rest. You drove all night long and I doubt you got any sleep. And I have to package all of these before Annie's mother calls down the four horsemen of the Apocalypse on me."
"Wait-"
"Please sweetie." She lays her hand down on your arm. "I think you'll feel a little better about all of this when you've had some rest." Her fingers raise to push back some of the hair that's fallen forward into your eyes. "Hmm?"
You didn't want to rest, you wanted to talk about this, but you knew better than to argue with her. Not to mention she was right, you hadn't slept.
"And when you wake up I'll make your favorite for dinner, alright?" She smiles, but there's something behind it that you can't place.
"Okay."
And this time you don't argue with her. You go up the worn staircase that you have your entire life and collapse onto your bed, wondering exactly what it was she saw your future hold, and what it is that you won't admit to yourself.
Soldier Boy POV
There was no light in the apartment save from the burning red tip of Ben's blunt and the bluish glow emanating from the tv that caught the dips and sharp edges of his face. But it was nothing more than background noise.
His hand absentmindedly stroked along Bean's back, his eyes focused on the ceiling above the couch. He hadn't moved in hours. It had been over twenty four hours since everything that happened at the plant shop, since you'd summoned a creature from the depths of the store, since Darren had thrown Ben through the plate glass windows of the bakery, and since Ben had last seen you.
He didn't understand why you hadn't let him take you back to the apartment and why it was that you had to leave. Ben hadn't liked the feeling that stabbed him in the chest when you turned your back on him and ran away. He'd felt the urge to comfort you the way he'd watched Hughie do for Annie in the car a week ago, but you hadn't let him.
Instead all he'd done is stood there and watched you run, still covered in dust, rubble, and blood. Worse was you hadn't let him check you for injuries and Ben hated the thought that you were hurt somewhere and he didn't know where you were.
You were so much more fragile than he was. He was realizing that more every day, was acutely aware of it after everything that happened with Elijah. Honestly, sitting there in the hospital with you laying there asleep with nothing that he could do, but wait for you to wake up had been agony. Not to mention that looking at the bruises around your throat, over your eye, and the bright green cast only made him feel worse. He'd never felt so helpless in his entire life and he hated it. Because Ben wasn't some helpless damsel in distress, he was a man and a man shouldn't wait on anyone or feel out of control, or at least, that's what he told himself.
Ben hears someone walk down the hallway outside the apartment and he perks up to listen, hoping that it's you finally coming home. Ben's mind stutters on the word "home." He'd lived many places in his life, apartments that felt more like way-stations, and the drafty cold mansion back in Philadelphia where he grew up, but neither felt like home. And although he hated how small your apartment was, it was the first place that Ben liked living in. He was starting to understand the word home.
But the feet keep moving past the apartment and Ben sinks into the couch cushions. Even Bean seems to be disappointed. "It's alright buddy." Ben mutters. "She'll come back."
But he wasn't sure.
Ben also wasn't used to feeling this way. It was close to the way that he felt when he went to Boston and was sitting in that damn hotel room waiting for something to happen and he still didn't understand what it meant. He didn't understand why he couldn't stand it that you weren't back yet. It made him feel like a woman waiting for her husband to get home from work when he told her that he was "running late." He'd tried to distract himself by looking at some possible prospects on Tinder, but just like the week after you'd come home from the hospital and just like the date he had in Boston, no one held any appeal.
His mind was awake and roaming around, pacing back and forth. The blunt was supposed to help, but it hadn't.
His phone chirps and Ben picks it up to look at the screen, but it's not you, it's Jake.
Jake: I know that I'm not your favorite person, but thank you for what you did.
Ben huffs and turns his phone face down on the couch once more. "What a fucking pussy."
When you left Ben had realized that Jake was still inside the building and as much as he wanted race after you, he understood that you'd be even more upset if you'd killed Jake. So Ben had tromped back through the building and found him trapped beneath some rubble. Jake was okay, just unconscious, but Ben had carried him out and put him on the sidewalk before he high tailed it out of there. The last thing that he wanted was to be caught with a shredded body outside a ruined building.
I didn't do it for him. I did it for her. Ben thinks to himself, looking down at the text message.
As much as he hated the thought of saving your future boyfriend, he didn't want to see what it did to you if you found out that you killed Jake, so he'd done it to avoid watching you cry again.
Ben didn't understand why he hated watching you cry.
Women cry. They're damn emotional all the time. He tries to reason with himself taking a puff from the blunt pinched between his thumb and forefinger. And she fucking cries way too much.
The image of you crying outside of the shop in the wake of everything that happened pricks something under his ribcage. Fuck.
Ben didn't feel remorse for what happened, well, the only thing he regretted was not getting there sooner and getting to fuck Darren up himself. When Diana had called him to tell him that Darren was coming, Ben had practically ripped the apartment door off in his haste to get back to you. He hadn’t wanted to leave you at the plant shop, but Butcher had told Ben, that he had a possible location for Darren, but it came up empty and Ben had been at Butcher's apartment chewing him out for sending him on a fucking wild goose chase.
It only made Ben more angry to allow Darren to speak to you, but he was trying to let you handle it even though he wanted to handle him. But it had brought him an unholy amount of joy to throw Darren in front of that minivan and to watch that creature tear him apart while the final whitish blue pulses of electricity jumped and crackled down the street making the streetlights shower sparks everywhere.
But Ben was more upset that Darren had been able to land a few hits on you before you killed him.
Ben remembered the giant lizard that crawled out of what was left of "Please Don't Die" and felt his lips quirk up into a smile. As much as he hated the entire situation, Ben couldn't help but feel a little surge of pride at what you'd done to your brother. He'd never seen you look so powerful standing there in the street, your eyes glowing a brilliant green, arms outstretched, and the ground trembling around you as the world begged to be unleashed.
Of course he'd been just as surprised as you were at the fact that you'd healed your broken arm. He wasn't sure if you'd noticed it yet, but you looked different too. There weren't as many lines on your face and your hair was more springy, the few silver hairs that Ben had noticed in passing were no longer there.
He wasn't sure what that meant, but there was something that felt suspiciously like hope tingling in his stomach, hope that you weren't as fragile anymore and hope that it meant you wouldn't die.
When Diana had told Ben that her husband had died, he saw the pain in her eyes when she said it, saw her relieving the memory, and for some reason as soon as she said that he was dead, the first thing Ben thought about was you. Ben hadn't considered his inability to age as much in the past, hadn't cared about outliving anyone before. Seeing Countess as an older woman had made him more aware of it. Looking at the woman who he once thought he loved, had showed him what that was like. Not that he had a problem with daring older women, Ben always thought that women really did get better with age, but it was what came next that Ben wasn't fond of.
And for some reason thinking that one day he'd wake up and see the marks of age on your face or one day he'd wake up and he wouldn't be able to annoy you or hear you yell at him made his chest tight.
Ben takes another hit of his blunt. The longer he sat there the more then unnatural feeling stirred in the pit of his stomach, thrumming through his veins, the feeling that he was trying to avoid. He thought that the joint would calm him down, but he found himself jumping at every creak and footstep in the apartment building, perking up each time and hoping that it was you coming home.
He didn't know where you were. You hadn't answered any of his texts or calls and Ben was ashamed at how many times that he had tried to call you.
Get a fucking grip. He'd thought to himself when he typed out another text message to send you, stopping himself from sending it.
But he'd been so desperate to hear from you that he'd actually gone to talk to Annie who seemed upset that she couldn't get ahold of you either. When Hughie and Annie had seen how upset Ben had been, Hughie had laid his hand on Ben's arm and told him not to worry. Ben had yelled at him that he "wasn't fucking worried and to mind his own business" and had shaken off Hughie's comforting hand before stomping out of the shared apartment.
No one else seemed to be as concerned about finding you. Butcher, MM, and Frenchie were all deeply involved in trying to figure out the cover-up for what happened outside the plant shop. By some miracle no one had caught a picture of your face, but there was little they could do about Darren's body that had been strewn across the street. Annie was having to deal with the repercussions at work, trying to handle what the news was calling a "super villain threat."
Personally, Ben thought that since they froze Homelander, the Seven looked weak and Ben believed that the superhero team that represented America shouldn't look weak. Of course before Ben had also thought that they looked like a bunch of pussies and again felt himself sink deeper into the couch when he thought about what his supposed son had become.
He shakes off the feelings he has about it and his thoughts turn back inevitably to you.
Ben wasn't used to thinking about someone as much as he thought of you, but each time he settled back into the apartment and you weren't there he was hyperaware of how quiet it was.
Maybe I should call Diana. She might know where she is.
As soon as Ben thinks that, his phone begins to ring, but Ben doesn't bother to look at who it is before he answers it.
"Hello?" Ben huffs out a breath of smoke that hangs in the air in front of his face, catching in the bluish light coming from the television.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" The voice on the other side of the line yells at him.
"Di?"
"Yes it's me. Who did you think it was? Santa Clause?" Your grandmother snarks.
"Why are you calling me and why the fuck are you so mad? What did I do?" Ben answers slightly annoyed.
As much as you got under his skin, your grandmother had been the same way. He actually thought that it was amusing that even before he figured out that she was your grandmother that he had often compared you to her in his mind. You had the same mannerisms, the same defiant and stubborn attitude that drove Ben up the wall, and you were just as beautiful as she was.
Ben was okay with admitting that he was attracted to you. To him that felt normal, it was the other feelings that he was conflicted about, the ones that he'd never felt before stirring in his chest that made him feel "too emotional" and "woman-like."
Truthfully, Ben was sure that if your grandmother had given him a shot that maybe he would have felt that way about her too. She was the only person that Ben actually trusted in the 80's, the only person that was brave enough to call him out on all his shit. You did that now. But he liked her husband also, so Ben was content with letting her go. He liked how happy that Henry, your grandfather, had made her. He knew that she wasn't happy as a supe and seeing her so happy and in love made Ben feel something that was close to happiness.
And it was seeing the way the two of them were together made Ben wonder if what he had with Countess was the same thing. Because he did have feelings about her that were different, but each time he went to visit Diana and saw your father playing on her lap he felt that there was something missing in his life.
It was the same way that he thought something was missing when you weren't in the apartment, but Ben hadn't realized that yet.
"Because I don't understand what the hell you're doing!" Diana replies and Ben honestly doesn't know why she's angry with him.
"About what?"
"My granddaughter."
Ben sits up the blunt in his fingertips forgotten. "Is she there with you?"
"Yes." Her voice softens for a moment.
Ben relaxes and leans back onto the couch, sighing in relief. "Good. That's good." Relief swelled in his chest when he thought about you staying with her, safe.
That's what she meant when she said that she wanted to go home. Home is with her grandmother. Ben stopped the next thought before he could go there.
The thought that home wasn't with him.
Ben was trying not to think about that or think about you hating him. He didn't think you did, well, didn't think you did anymore. At first it really was touch and go, but now he was almost eighty percent sure after you'd told him more than once that you weren't afraid of him and didn’t hate him that you sometimes wanted him around.
"No, not good."
"What do you mean? Is she okay?" Ben's grip on the phone tightens so hard that he's sure that he hears the screen cracking.
"No."
"What happened?" Ben's voice is a growl, the feelings of relief evaporating as soon as they had begun to bloom in his chest. He mentally calculated how long it would take him to get to you.
"Her entire life fucking fell apart and where are you? Not here!"
Oh. Ben relaxed a little bit.
"I don't need to be there." He says on an exhale of smoke.
"Yes you do!" Diana presses.
"No, I don't. She a big girl she doesn't need me there, she's-" Ben takes a puff from the joint.
“If you were any denser you’d be a Bundt cake Benjamin!” She says exasperated.
"What the fuck are you talking about doll? I am not-"
“Let me guess." She interrupts and Ben can imagine her tapping her foot. He hated when she did that. "You’re moping around smoking a blunt on the couch probably with a glass of something that you're hoping to numb whatever the hell it is you're feeling."
Ben's eyes shift to the bottle of whiskey on the coffee table that he hadn't touched in a few minutes.
“I’m not fucking moping and stop spying on me!” He snaps back at Diana.
He hated how well she knew him. She was his best friend in the 80's through all the shit, she had seen him at his worst and at his best too many times to count.
“I don’t have to use my powers to know what you’re doing. I know you Ben.”
"Sorry to disappoint you sweetheart.” Ben grits his teeth, temper flaring hot. “But if you know me as well as you fucking say you do then you then you know that this is-“
“You avoiding your feelings by acting aloof and brooding like a fucked up version of Mr. Darcy.” She interrupts.
She certainly hasn't changed.
“I am not avoiding-“
“She needs you here Ben.” Diana stamps her foot, the same way you do when Ben pisses you off, and Ben can hear it.
“She doesn’t need me! She said that she wanted to go home, that she didn’t want to be here with me! I tried to-“ Ben shouts back standing up. It was the exact thing that he'd been thinking for the past twenty four hours, that you didn’t need him and that you didn't want to be any where near him.
That last thought made an uncomfortable sensation prickle in his gut when he thought it, because all it did was remind him of how you acted when the two of you first met, when you didn't want him to live with you and tried your darndest to make him go away.
He didn’t want to and he wasn't sure why that was.
“Try harder.” Diana interrupts him again and frankly it was pissing him off.
Ben clenches his jaw. “I think that you’ve confused me with someone else baby.”
“Don’t you 'baby' me Benjamin! We both know that you’re doing what you always do when things get hard for you.”
“And what’s that?”
“You pretend not to care and shut out everyone who tries to care for you. Not to mention you drown yourself in drugs, booze, and women.”
“She doesn’t care about me!” He spits.
“She does!” Diana snaps back. “And believe it or not she needs you here and she wants you here.”
"But-"
"Ben please." It was the first time that he'd heard Diana sound softer and almost pleading since the conversation started. "Don't do this to her. She's worth more than Countess and all those other women you've fallen into bed with."
"Do you really think I don't know that?" He roars. The answer surprises himself. "Do you think I don't know that she's different?"
Wait what?
"If you know that, then why aren't you here?"
He hesitates.
Everything you said to him the night of the party comes roaring back. You looking beautiful in a dress that made his throat tight, and you telling him that you just wanted to be friends and that you understood that he wasn't the type of guy to have relationships. He didn't understand why it stung a bit when you said that, but it had.
Ben thinks about the week that the two of you spent together after Diana went home, when he tried his best to take care of you, distract you from everything that happened with his movies, and would sit with you and try to make you laugh. He'd never wanted to take care of someone before.
Not to mention he kind of liked the way you laughed. He wouldn’t admit that to anyone, but each time you did, it made him want to laugh too. That had never happened to him before. But he wanted to make you laugh to forget everything that happened with Elijah. His fist clenches when he thinks of exactly what Elijah tried to do to you and it makes him feel so mad that he feels close to spontaneously combusting. Ben might not be the best role model when it came to women, but he couldn’t imagine the type of man who would force himself on someone else.
It had made him angry when he thought that you were suggesting that he would try something when he first moved in, because he wasn't that type of man.
Ben was trying to be better for you. He wasn't admitting that, but he really was trying to be better. He didn't understand why. You'd told him countless times that you didn’t want to be with him, that you wanted to be with someone else like Jake.
Ben frowns when he thinks about the man he'd pulled from the rubble of the shop. And again thinks to himself that you should be with someone different, someone who was a supe and could understand you. Ben had seen how difficult it was for Diana when she was keeping her supe life a secret from your grandfather and he didn't want you to have to do that with someone.
"Because I'm not-" Ben begins to say, but he holds his tongue. It was too honest, too raw, too unlike him to admit this to anyone.
Because I'm not this guy. Because I'm not the one she wants. Because I'm not some knight on a white horse. Because she's everything right with the world and I'm just a fucking asshole who sleeps on her couch.
"Ben." Diana breathes and he can practically hear her pinching the bridge of her nose. "In all the years I've known you, you've never done what you did for her with anyone else. You carried her out of that warehouse, you stayed with her in the hospital even after she woke up, you took care of her when she came home, you protected her from Darren. You can't ignore all those things."
"I'm not ignoring them. She's my friend." The word sours in his mouth as he says it. "And she would have done the same thing for me." He knew it was true.
She's a good person and she wouldn't let me chase her away if any of that shit happened to me and I told her to leave me alone.
"Yes she would. Because she cares about you." Diana sighs.
"She doesn't."
"Why don't you believe me?"
"Because she's told me what she wants!" Ben shouts so loudly he can feel the room shaking. "She wants to be friends-“
"Because she doesn't think that you want a relationship you nitwit!"
"I don't." Ben spits the words before he can stop them, but as he does something tightens at the base of his throat.
"How is it that it's been forty fucking years and you're still able to dance on the grave of my last nerve?"
Ben chuckles. "I missed you too sweetheart."
She sighs into the phone again making it crackle in Ben's ear. "She needs you.” Diana repeats. “And I think you need her too.”
His temper was flaring again, the thoughts that his father pressed into him surging up before he can stop the words. “I don’t need anyone. I’m Sol-“
“If you say that you’re Soldier Boy, I’m going to reach through this phone and slap you silly.” She snaps. “And you do need her, but you’re still just too stubborn to admit it.”
“I-“
“Ben I know that everything that happened with Countess was fucked up, but my granddaughter she-“ Diana pauses before she changes the thought. “You say that you know she’s different, but right now you’re treating her the same way you treat all those other women.”
“I’m not-“
“My granddaughter has decided you’re important to her and once that’s happened it’s hard to make her let go. You saw the way she was with Darren and that guy was a manipulative asshole. Imagine what she thinks of you.”
“I-“
“Stop making excuses!”
“You didn’t even hear what I was going to say!” Ben shouts.
“And I don’t need to! Think what you want Ben but if you’d stop acting so stubborn and so ridiculously blind to what’s right in front of you. I promise that what comes next is worth the risk.”
“Don’t go all fucking mystical on me doll.”
“And don’t go all macho- no feelings asshole on me! So stop being so damn stubborn, get on a plane and get your ass here.” She retorts. “Don’t fuck this up Benjamin because if you do I’ll fuck you up.”
The line goes dead.
Ben sat there for a minute in the silence still holding the phone up to his ear, listening to what your grandmother said to him ring around in his head for a second.
No one ever spoke to him that way. In fact, Ben had never allowed anyone to speak to him the way that she did, well, not until you came along. You reminded him so much of her that it was astounding and he wasn't going to admit that maybe it's why he liked being around you so much.
Ben frowns at what Diana said, thinking about the unusual feelings that were swirling in the pit of his stomach. He felt wrong and the feelings were odd for him. He hadn't felt anything remotely like this ever in his life, not even for Countess.
And although Ben refused to be afraid of anything, the feelings he was having scared him. He didn’t understand and he wasn't sure that he wanted to. He wasn't sure that he wanted to see where this ended up. He felt like he was in too deep.
As much as he wanted to go to you like Diana ordered him to, he wasn't sure that he should. Something was holding him back, digging it's heels in and refusing to budge.
But why do I feel like-
His phone rings and he doesn't look at the caller ID when he picks up, expecting it to be Diana again, yelling at him.
"Di I-"
But it's not Diana.
"Hello Ben. It's nice to hear your voice again." The familiar voice says, sounding calm and collected.
"What the fuck do you want?" Ben snarls.
"I thought it was time the two of us had a chat.”
A/N: At this point Diana is really just trying to give both Ben and the reader the kick in the pants they need. And yes I know another cliffhanger, but you know you love it. 🤭😉 We are quickly reaching the end of this series, but that means the confession scene is coming and I am so excited about it!!
As always thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, likes, and comments are not required, but are always appreciated. I love hearing what y'all think! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series let me know. 😊
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Two whole hours late: BurrowWings!!! The final fantribe for my Ventus AU.
Details, explanation, and closeups below. Next week I have something different because I probably will not have any time to draw anything (I barely did this week).
School tried its best to murder me (which is why this is so late). Sorry!
When designing the BurrowWings, there were already two tribes that embodied the major defining traits these dragons would have: MudWings and IceWings. Perhaps they are distantly related, or through convergent evolution acquired similar traits.
BurrowWings are the last tribe that came from the idea of tribes that could hide well enough from the SwiftScales. These dragons live in the tundra that covers the entire southern half of the continent. Only about the first quarter of it is actually hospitable, as anything past the halfway point becomes too cold even for these tough dragons.
Built for surviving the unforgiving southern tundra, BurrowWings are well-accustomed to the cold, though not completely impervious. They prefer to wait out the harshest winters deep underground, in caverns dug by their expert talons, where the wind doesn't cut down their endurance. The pads of their claws are so thick that when cupped they form shovel-like forms, perfect for digging through the unyielding terrain.
Their armoured wings can be quite heavy, however, so they prefer to rest them on large spikes protruding from their shoulders. They also serve as a great defence mechanism, as nothing wants to get close to a huge, heavy pincushion. A BurrowWings' scales are as rough as stone and as sparkly as permafrost.
Like the PineWings, BurrowWings shed their winter scales for summer colours of browns, pale greens, and purples or reds to mimic the flowers that decorate the tundra. This colouration doesn't last very long, the same as the summers, and then it's back to pure white.
As mentioned earlier, BurrowWings are expert excavators. Their front talons cut and scoop large portions of permafrost or stone, which their back legs push back for their tails to pat down and disperse. This way, a determined dragon can dig a proper burrow in a quarter hour.
Despite how much I talked about them, BurrowWings are probably the tribe I developed the least lore-wise, though a small attempt was made. I have since then done some thinking and have a little more ideas, though not enough. Right now they just kind of exist without a purpose and that isn't good story planning. I'm working on it, though, and excited for when I can finally write one of these guys.
Speaking of being hopeful for the future... My workload at school is determined to crush me, so I might have to stick to predrawn things from last Christmas. I'll have a break piece next week which I hope you'll like, and then after that I've got my attempts at making dynamic bases for the canon tribes. Stay tuned!
#wings of fire#wof#wof fantribe#wings of fire fantribe#art#digital art#wof art#my art#wof fanart#fanfic#Ventus AU#The Five Dragons#BurrowWings
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What Was I Made For?
08: Technical Difficulties
Charles Leclerc x driver!OC (Dafne Morelli)
childhood enemies, forced proximity, accidental pregnancy, enemies to lovers
Warnings: angst, two idiots fighting again
a/n: Hiii, so, I had a little writers block but it's completly fiiinee.... I hope you guys llike this chapter! This week maybe you won't have a new chapter because this weekend I have a competition, so if you want to suggest things or even sending me some love I would appreciate it so much!
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Tuscany was a place that brought me inner peace, childhood memories, a sense of safety.
It reminds me of the summers I spent with my grandma, sneaking into the kitchen to watch her make homemade pasta and pizza. It reminds me of being free and knowing that here I am my own person, that I can be myself and not a racing driver.
When my grandma passed away, she left this house for my sisters and I, leaving my mother with other properties, knowing how much this house meant for us and how many memories this place holds. Here we had first kisses, first love… Every inch of this house has our signature with small details: a wall piano where I used to sit with my dad to play it, a pottery jar my sister Soleil made, a painting made by my sister.
This house is my place, my safe space, my sanctuary.
And yet there he is, stepping into my space when no one asked him to be here, turning my life upside down as always with his selfishness.
“You have to leave” I said firmly, placing a protective hand over my belly.
“I want to talk, Dafne… please” he sighed, not tearing his eyes away from my swollen belly, making me turn around and walk towards the couch I occupied before he showed up.
“There's nothing to talk about, Charles” I sighed. “You've done enough. Leave me alone”
“I won't” he frowned, following me, making me hug myself. “I won't leave. Not this time-”
“Can't you see that the only thing you do is ruining my life?” I snapped, turning around to face him. “Look at what you have done! This is your fault!”
“I know!” he exclaimed, making me clench my jaw. “I know! And I'm so sorry!”
“Saying sorry won't fix this” I frowned, pointing at my belly. “Saying sorry won't make me have my career back. Saying sorry won't make me hate you less”
He clenched his jaw, but never looked away. He stayed where he was, looking at me all the time, following me with his eyes.
“I'm not leaving until you hear me” he frowned, making me groan while I sat on the chair.
“You think you can just show up here and try to be in my life after everything you did? After the panic attacks, the harassment, the constant media hounding?” I frowned. “You made me lose a man I really wanted to be with. Sebastian is more man than you, he tried to put back the broken pieces of my heart after the disaster you made. And then I had to see his heart breaker when I told him that this baby wasn't his but yours. You have an idea of how much that hurts?”
His eyes filled with regret as he clenched his jaw, but I couldn't let myself feel sorry for him. I have to be strong. For me. And for this baby.
“I know I've made mistakes” he sighed, and before he talked again he took a few deep breaths closing his eyes. “But I'm here to make things right. I came to talk things and fix this”
“You can't fix this” I said, pointing between us, fighting the tears. “You can't just show up and expect things to be okay. It's too late”
“Please Dafne…” he begged, taking a few steps closer. “I'm not asking for forgiveness right now, I just… Just give me the chance to be here, for you. For our baby”
“Our baby” I repeated bitterly. “This isn't about you, Charles! The world doesn't turn around you! This time is about me and what I need. And what I need right now is to have you away from me”
He stayed silent, with his eyes moving from my belly to my eyes. For a moment, I thought he really was going to leave. I saw him close his eyes slowly and take a deep breath, I saw that tic he has in his jaw whenever he's nervous. For a few seconds I felt relieved, thinking he was going to turn around and walk out of the backyard.
“I'm not leaving” he said, opening his eyes again. “I'm going to stay until you believe that I mean what I said. Until you decide to fix things and speak”
“You are so stubborn!” I exclaimed, frustrated. “Why can't you just respect my wishes?”
“Because I care about you, okay?” he exclaimed back, raising up his arms. “Why do you think I came here? I waited patiently until you came back to the factory, but you never came. I was going crazy because you weren't giving signals if you were alive or not. You didn't even make a statement about you retiring!”
“Do you think that's easy?” I mumbled. “Why do you think I came here? Why do you think I didn't say anything? Because this is hard for me, Charles! You have an idea how embarrassing it is for me to say you can't race anymore because you are going to be a mother? Do yu have an idea of how many times I had to answer to multiple people that I wanted to focus on racing when they asked me about my future plans, about making a family?”
“I…” he sighed.
“You have it easy” I said pointing at him with my hand. “You can keep racing, you can have as many kids as you want, after all you won't have to carry them for nine months. But I have to carry this baby, Charles. I can't race anymore, my body won't be the same”
“And I'm sorry for that, it's my fault” he sighed.
“Yes, it is” I scoffed. “If there's one to blame here it's you. I did nothing wrong. Just because you decided to not use a condom and be drunk”
“You were drunk too” he tried to attack back, but he stopped looking at the floor.
I stood up and turned around and hugged myself, looking at the sunset and taking a deep breath.
“You can stay the night” I said. “But I want you out of here before I wake up”
“Dafne-”
“No” I stopped him. “Right now you only bring me pain. If you want to fix things, go back in time and go to your hotel room instead of mine”
Laying in bed, now more than ever, only brought memories.
The room that always has been mine changed all over the years. My grandma inherited this house from her father, who was something like the lord of the land. It's a big house, and when my mother had Erica and then me, she decided that she wanted to give us a room for ourselves, making my mother know that this building was also ours.
My room was decorated the moment my mother knew she was pregnant with me, and it started to get shape as I was getting older. The bed changed a few times, the shelves were full of books and plants, the wardrobe had summer clothes, the walls were filled with pictures of all the places I had been in my life.
This room it's my sanctuary more than the house itself.
And knowing that Charles is at the other side of the door, as many other times, makes me want to stay here safe.
I heard him walking around the house like he owned it. After all, he spent many summers here, he knows where the things are here. I heard him walk in the kitchen downstairs, making something for dinner. I heard him sneeze and yawn.
He really won't leave.
I sat on the bed, rubbing my belly softly while looking out the window, taking deep breaths when I felt my cat walking towards me.
“What should I do?” I whispered, looking at my cat.
The day I found out I was pregnant wasn't the best day of my life. I had a crash that made me fall unconscious, I pushed away a man I knew I could fall in love with and be with him, I disappointed my parents.
I sighed, rubbing my belly softly, something I found myself doing more than I wanted. And somehow, I liked feeling it. I liked feeling that I was growing a human in me, it made me feel stronger than ever. If only this baby was from the man I love…
The door opened slowly, making me turn my head towards him. He had a hand on the handle and the other on the door frame, looking at me, watching how I had my sweater raised up so I could feel the skin of my stomach.
“Eh… I made dinner” he said, with his eyes fixed on me.
“Good for you. What do you want, pats on your back? A trophy?” I answered sarcastically.
“I want you to eat dinner” he frowned.
“No, thank you. I won't eat something you made” I scoffed. “And I'm not hungry”
“Oh my God, can you stop?” he frowned. “I just want to apologize, make things right! And you make it very hard for me!”
“So? I think I made it pretty clear that I don't want to have you here” I frowned.
“And what are you going to do, raise that kid alone? It's mine too, I have every right to be here” he groaned.
“But I don't want you here!” I exclaimed. “I don't want to see you. I don't want to remember every second of the day that you are the father of this baby, that you are the one that made this!”
“Well, I'm sorry! Accidents happen!” he exclaimed, raising his arms.
“Exactly” I groaned. “This is an accident. But who will be the one that won't be damaged? You. I want you out of my life”
He clenched his jaw and looked at me, shaking his head. I just want him to leave me, is it that hard?
“You can't push everyone away, Dafne” he sighed. “You did that with Sebastian. And you always did it with me. I think it's time for us to act like adults”
“Get out of my room”
“Fine. But I won't leave this house until we talk” he said before closing my door.
“Asshole!” I screamed, grabbing a pillow and throwing it to the door. “I hate you!”
“Well, I don't!”
What?
I frowned looking at the door, hugging my stomach softly.
What did he say?
“Whatever” I groaned, turning around on the bed and laying on my side, with my back facing the door. “Your dad is not good, you won't like him”
I swallowed thickly, looking out of the window and drawing circles on my belly with my nails. I'm hungry, the baby is hungry, but I won't give him the satisfaction of eating whatever he made, not even sharing the same room with him.
Charles might have been the first love of my life. But that was a stupid, childish and innocent crush.
My stomach growled in the middle of the night, making me groan and rub it softly.
I'm hungry.
I sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing my eyes while I put warm socks on my feet. I got up and wrapped my shoulders with a blanket, taking a deep breath before walking out of my room.
I expected the house to be cold, like always. But it was warm. Maybe he fired the fireplace and let it die before he went to sleep.
I went downstairs and sighed, wrapping the blanket tighter around me. The stairs were cold against my covered feet, making me shiver softly.
When I reached the last step I frowned, watching him. He was on the couch, an uncomfortable couch, hugging himself and with his head on a pillow.
“Idiot” I whisper, looking at him.
He could have gone to the room he shed to sleep in with his brothers whenever they came. But he stayed here, for what? Waiting for me to come?
I shook my head and walked towards the kitchen, sighing when I saw a plate on the counter. I sat on the chair and looked at it, biting my lip when I saw a sandwich on it.
And not a simple sandwich. My favorite sandwich.
“How the hell…” I frowned, turning around and looking at him.
How does he know that my favorite sandwich is the one that has tuna with mayo and ketchup? How?
I sighed, eating it and groaning when I swallowed it. God, it's so good.
“Is it good?”
I gasped softly, flinching. He's awake.
“Why are you sleeping on the couch? You have a room” I said, not turning.
“Just in case you walked downstairs” he sighed. “I know you, Dafne…”
“You know nothing about me, Leclerc” I frowned.
“I know that you love eating” he said, standing in front of me at the other side of the table. “I know that for dinner you always need your comfort meal, and after that you always have cookies with milk. You have been doing that since we are little”
“Fuck off” I groaned, looking away.
“I know that you love peaches, but you are allergic to the peel” he continued. “That you love the chocolate of Cadbury, more specifically the Wispa bars”
I frown and look at him. How? How does he know that? Why? Who told him?
“I know you, Dafne” he repeated.
“No, Charles! You don't know me” I said tiredly. “If you did, none of the shit that is happening between us should have happened! If you did, you would understand why I hated every second of every fight we had. Why can't you accept that I want to be someone successful? Why can't you let me be and mind your own business?”
“And do you think it was easy for me?” he exclaimed. “Do you think it was easy for me watching you risk your life every time you got into your kart and now into the cars? I knew from the start that this sport was dangerous, and when I saw you for the first time in a kart I nearly had a heart attack!”
“You are being so selfish! This is my dream” I exclaimed, standing up.
“And I tried, every time I could, to make sure you left it” he said. “I tried to fight against you to make you hate it, to make you see that…”
“What? That I'm not made for this? That this is a sport for men?”
He swallowed thickly and looked away, walking towards the window of the kitchen, his back facing me.
“When Jules died I started to have nightmares nearly every night” he whispered. “Some nights his crash on Sakura was on repeat in my mind. And then other nights that crash was happening to you. Do you have an idea of what was going on in my mind when I realized that the one that was in the barriers in Abu Dhabi was you? Do you have an idea of how hard it was for me knowing that you were unconscious?”
“Charles” I frowned.
“Do you have an idea how hard I tried to keep you safe? Dafne, I-”
“No. Don't do this. You have no right. How dare you? Why are you like this? Why the hell you have been acting all our fucking life like a jerk with me, making me feel so little, and then you come here now to say what, that you love me?” I scoffed.
But then he turned his head slowly, looking at me with those green eyes.
“No” I mumbled. “No. No, don't. Leave. Leave right now! I don't want to see you! Get the fuck out if my house!”
“Dafne…”
“No” I groaned. “You have no right”
He turned around to look at me but I just took a step back before he could reach me, walking out of the kitchen and going to the hall of the house to grab the key cars.
If he doesn't want to leave, then I will.
Even if it's two in the morning.
taglist
@racinggirl @elisysd @alltoomaples @ssprayberrythings @rach3164 @yvonne-dump @deliciousfestsalad @janeh22 @hc-dutch @ninifee1802 @kakorrhaphiphobia @ssararuffoni @itsjustkhaos @scaramou @tapedeck-hearts @apollosfavkiddo @sltwins @glitterquadricorn @ladystardust05 @theseerbetweenus @vizzzashley @auawdo @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @leptitlu @green-thots @catarinemirandax
#f1#formula 1#f1 imagine#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 drabble#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 fanfic#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc#f1 x oc#f1 x you#f1 x female reader#f1 imagines#f1 serie#formula 1 fic#formula one fanfic#formula one fanfiction#formula one x reader#ferrari#cl16#cl16 x reader#cl16 imagine#cl16 x you#cl16 one shot
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Miphlink Week 2024: Gala
Also extra thoughts and Miphlink Kid close up below cut
So I already had done a drawing of them dancing earlier this year, I decided to spice it up by instead of drawing a slow dance between the two of them, I would have them dancing much more joyfully as a family.
Low and beyond, kid! I have yet to actually post (or create) a sheet for the kid, but for a name I'm thinking Lamina. The name could change though, I'm still deciding.
For some design details, since this would be a Zora/Hylian child, I tried to pull some elements from Link as well. I went with the obvious blue eyes, longer legs, and elements of yellow as a homage to his blond hair, as well as including a third ear fin on her left side. As she ages the fin should look more like a loose hair bang, similar to the one on Link's forehead.
I then thought to include his original earrings and hairband, thinking that once Link upgraded to royal jewelry, he passed his original jewelry down to any children he has. So Lamina has her ear fin pierced, and the hairband design was reincorporated into a band fit to hold up her Zora crest, kinda like a hair pin.
As for Mipha, I gave her Mipha's beta design dress, as well as a tiara that's identical to Mipha's before upgrading to a full crown. Lamina also inherited the dots on her knees from her, only difference being the more diamond shape. The belt is also a combination of Link and Mipha's, having Link's diamond shaped buckle with Mipha's side crest and hanging diamond bits.
As for Mipha herself, she's got the crown! I figure she's already been crowned as Queen, leading to her new outfit. Similar to Sidon in TotK, she's got the same crown and chest guard thing, but instead of his whistle thingy, she's got the same necklace piece as Link's zora armor. I once saw a headcanon from someone who said that was their family crest, the diamond coming from Link and the crescent parts coming from Mipha, and I loved that, so I tried to incorporate diamonds into their designs. I just wish I could find that post again.
Uhhh thanks for reading.
#Miphlink#MiphlinkWeek#MiphlinkWeek2024#Mipha#Link#Lamina loZ#Breath of the Wild#Legend of Zelda#LoZ#My Art#ClockwiseMiphlinkWeek2024
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Dia's FFXIV Art Reference Notes, A possibly long post
Hello! I made this as a thread on my twitter but I might as well post a version of it here. For the record this will be a thread linking to the resources I use when drawing commissions or fanart, I have not made Any of these and whenever I can I will note the creators and link directly to their resources.
GPose Reference First and foremost, if you're drawing a WOL or ordering a commission of your WOL the most important thing is to take a proper reference GPOSE. I use the method in this post, to make sure I got all the angles. Clean refs are super important when drawing armor/intricate outfits so take care to take simple standing poses like the one in the tweet above. Cool dynamic poses might be fun but they're not really useful for referencing.
Gear/Weapon Reference
If you need good references for a weapon/outfit that you don't have a GPOSE for, I recommend using the attire website
This is a japanese website maintained by @/chiyo_asa on twitter and if you've ever looked up a piece of gear in the lodestone you've almost definitely come across their pictures.
This is a super rough translation in english of the menu of the website. While it is in Japanese it's very easy to navigate and all the pictures in the site are super high quality and very useful for referencing.
This is my number one source for gear references I haven't taken myself
The "mirapuri" button afaik is for glams they made themselves that they want to showcase.
An important note about this site specifically is that I believe it's currently undergoing an overhaul so Some weapons/gearsets might not be completely transferred in yet.
That being said, the majority of sets from dungeons/crafting/alliance raids/job gear sets etc are sorted like so, which makes it super easy to look for.
There IS also a search function but I'm pretty sure it works only for japanese input.
NPC reference sheets
@xivrefsheets Offers really detailed resources of npc models. They also occasionally accept requests on their ko-fi (closed at the time of writing this)
These are super useful and really high quality, especially for some of the boss refs they've done. As someone who doesn't use anamnesis I go back to their refs very often
Convocation of the Fourteen refs
Maintained by @/Igeyorhm on twitter this site has a nice list of Ascian refs per character in addition to some lore bits for each of them. Also some very useful closeups of the Ascian clothes.
Even more NPC and Boss Refs
I believe maintained by @/MlNRATHOUS on twitter, this site has a really nice array of major NPC and boss references in various angles and with colourpicks for skintone and hair which is super useful. I use them a Lot
Lalafell centric refs
Norirow Note is a super cute blog that showcases glam items/ weapons/ chocobo barding and more.
It is NOT meant to be an art reference, however if you play a lala like me, I find their showcases useful when drawing gear on lalas.
Even if you don't use it as an art ref it's a super cute blog that's just fun to go through AND fully translated in english so I recommend just having a fun time reading through it anyway.
Bonus- Au Ra Scales.
I literally found out about this today but @/saficchi on twitter has made a super detailed angled ref sheet for both male and female au ra scales and I love them for it
Bonus 2 electric boogaloo- TextTools
I use this to import 3d models of specific weapons into CSP if I'm drawing them.
I don't know how useful this is for other art software but it's saved my ass from freehanding titania weapons so in the thread it goes
That's the full list of refs I personally use, if there's more that people want to add please feel free to do so in the comments. I hope it helps people out in their creative endeavors!
#ffxiv#final fantasy xiv#ff14#final fantasy 14#reference#references#ffxiv reference#art reference#dia rambles
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Commission Menu!
I've removed the "Pay What You Want" commission option, though you can pay more than my asking price on any of the commissions. The commission menu itself has been increased though! I had originally intended to open commissions in September, but emergencies happened, forcing me to open them early.
On the menu are:
A set of four quilted magnets or decorative pins.
A set of four coasters, with several options for more coasters as well as insulated batting to make them into hot pads/pot holders.
A single mug rug, with insulated batting as an option. For my shop, I use insulated batting for the mug rugs. For commissioned pieces, it's two layers of cotton batting or an extra $5 for insulated batting.
Due to popular demand, a single serving dining set. This is for a single placemat and matching coaster.
A four piece placemat set. If you would like me to make more placemats for a set, please contact me about this.
A single mini quilt. These range from 18x18 inches to 25x25 inches. They're excellent wall and table decorations!
A single table runner. I'm rather fond of these because of how flexible they are with regards to use. How so? Hang them on a wall, drape over the back of a couch, lay across a car seat, use it on an altar or shrine, etc.
A pine tree wallhanging. These are an excellent alternative to a Yuletide tree. They're hung on a wall and you can decorate it with your favorite pins or buttons. If you would like some decorative pins, I can make those (see the first item on this list). No trees will be cut down, cats won't be climbing up it nor break ornaments, it takes just a couple minutes to set up or take down. Storage is also very easy! Oh, and it can be made with a wide range of colors.
A rag quilt. I have different size options available! These are made using a quilt-as-you-go technique and are very quickly made. Oh, and they're EXTREMELY warm! My house gets very chilly in winter, and the rag quilt I've made for myself works like magic.
Just the quilt top. This is available in several sizes, the largest being twin. This is for just the quilt top. You will need to purchase backing, batting, and either do the quilting yourself or hire someone else. You will also receive all fabric scraps left after the sewing is done.
Please read over the details and don't be afraid to ask questions. If you're a monthly supporter, you will automatically receive a 15% discount, but you have the option to pay more than my asking price should you decide you don't want to use the discount.
Please reblog! It's the only way other people will see this post. Liking this is only a bookmark for you. Remember, Tumblr is a blogging site with social features; it's not a social media site. You are, however, welcome to share this post on any social media site you use.
Remember: commissioning me, purchasing anything from my shop, or donating to my goal will earn you an entry into winning a free quilt when said goal is reached.
Commissions close November 1st.
After November 1st, I'll be focusing on making a stack of quick and easy quilt tops to practice free motion quilting. Those quilts will be sold at a steep discount. Once I'm comfortable with FMQ, I'll be making larger quilts again, and these will be listed in the shop.
At some point, I'll take a break. Financially speaking, that's not really an option unless we pay off the last vet bill and the water heater installation. If those goals are met, then yes, I'll take a long overdue and well-earned break.
If you're willing to give me full artistic license and the only input you give is choosing the size range from the commission menu, use GOHOGWILD for a 15% discount. Please know there's a 90% chance it will be a Halloween quilt. Halloween is my favorite month, and celebrating it with quilts is always a pleasure. You are not required to use the coupon code, and there's the option to pay more than my asking price. I just really want to make some Halloween quilts.
Here are samples of my work, some of which you can purchase from my shop here.
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Hello dere :3
small request b4 they close ‼️‼️ could we have some Valeria x designer reader? I think it would be tooth-rottingly sweet for Valeria to reluctantly try on everything her girlfriend makes -- from ballgowns to suits.
And designer reader fucking adores her, and constantly makes her fancy clothes, with colours perfectly, primmly picked out to match Valerias skintone, eyecolour, manicure, tattoos, and all.
Hello hello hello :3 Valeria would definitely try on whatever thing Reader has made at her request. She's this strong, brute of a woman but with you? Oh, she's just so soft. It helps that your designs are so well done too.
Also, much apologies for the wait 🫂
Designer!Reader x Valeria
Out of the two of you, you're definitely the more fashionable one. You can take one look at someone and already know what colour or style would suit them best. Valeria doesn't care all that much about matching patterns and colours and what goes best with her undertone. You do though. Valeria is your favourite person in the world and such a good model too.
You've made a few designs inspired by her. Pieces with little scorpion inspired details. Snake details. Any animal you can vaguely associate with her. You make Valeria try on every single one.
You like to make pieces based off of animals in general. Foxes, cats, moths, peacocks, swans. Those are Valeria's favourite to model for you. The peacock one in particular. There's something so special about seeing your eyes light up as you see your ideas in the flesh. Or rather, on flesh.
She acts like she doesn't like doing it, but secretly she enjoys how much you hype her up. She struts down the hallway of your shared home in elegant gowns and dresses and suits that she'd otherwise never wear. A part of her wishes she had more time or the safety to dress up but in her line of work she has to stay lowkey. The less attention the better.
I've heard bigger chested girls have a harder time finding dresses and tops that fit them properly. (I wouldn't know because I'm not even pushing a B cup. 👎) Now, it's no secret that Valeria's chest is on the bigger side. She's found quite a few tops and dresses that she loved in her size, only issue was, they didn't fit her chest right. So, you being her loving girlfriend with the ability to sew, tailors her clothes.
You tailor her pants too. Adding on extra pockets for her and secret sheathes for her weapons.
Back to designing. In your expert opinion, Valeria suits dark red and green the best. Most of the pieces you've made for her specifically heavily features those colours. Some are pink though, to pay respect to her favourite colour.
Valeria has let you dedicate an entire room to your hobby. Mannequins, shelves full of all kinds of fabrics, needles and pins, a sewing machine, an iron and ironing board. Valeria partially regrets that decision for the sheer amount of time you spend in it. Although it's great when she's too busy to be with you.
Valeria has one suit that you made her that she wears for every formal occasion. Never during a cartel meeting, because she simply doesn't respect anyone enough to dress up, but for dates or events. Dark red and tailored to perfection, severe lines to match her sharp attitude. You wish she'd wear some of the other things you've made but you can't bring yourself to complain when she looks that good. It's like she was born to wear that suit.
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Cristabel and the proverbial sandwich
(Spoilers for Harrow and Nona the Ninth)
I have not known inner peace since I saw someone say, "But come on, does anyone ACTUALLY buy John's story about how the nun died?"
Because honestly, I'd just kind of gone, "Super random, very weird interaction, boy there sure are cult mindworms at play here," and moved on to the next page.
But as soon as I saw that question asked, the amount I did not buy that story hit me like a load of bricks, to the point I'm kind of amazed that I ever did believe it.
Two people. A locked door. A nuclear standoff. A close-range head injury.
On one side, a full-fledged Catholic nun—well done, that’s the classic—who's best friends with a staunchly atheist world-class scientist and believes, if we're to believe John, that Jesus's problem is that he didn't stick to office hours.
On the other, a woman described as, "A total delight. Effervescent. Kind to animals and children. A master of the sword. Did not have the intellect you’d ordinarily find in a sandwich or an orange, and was a sickening twerp into the bargain."
Oh, and in the middle, there's also a necromancer who wants to bring back his friends... minus any little details about things he they might have done wrong. He "knows where memory lives in the brain", and they "won't have any of it." And "guys as careful as me don't make mistakes," but then again, all that means is that if he kills someone, he did it on purpose.
C— talks her way into a locked room with John, who's on the phone threatening some world leaders with a nuke, expresses care and concern for him, and then... decides he needs more data on the soul? And kills herself to provide that for him?
I'll be honest, I just don't believe that John was an ordinary guy, totally normal, could be any of us, and he just got put in a really stressful situation and made some bad choices but who HASN'T done things they aren't proud of??? I reject that point of view completely. Like, Elon Musk in any given interaction probably is really stressed out and unhappy and having trouble responding in a way that's at all well-considered or emotionally mature, but that doesn't mean that Musk isn't also, at baseline, a deeply stupid, petty, immature, grandiose, entitled, egocentric person. No matter what situation you put him in, he's going to keep on being those things.
I think that John's initial idea was to put the entire human population of Earth, minus some necessary staff, into some giant cryonic freezers, and give the Earth some amount of time to rest and recover from the effects of human-caused pollution. A plan about which I will confess some hesitation myself; being told "just lie down in this coffin, bro, you'll only be a little dead, I'll totally bring you back to life* in a couple centuries (*98% effective!) " does not fill me with an enthusiasm to hop on board.
And then his project got cut. And he decided, "Well, if they won't agree, I can just make them agree." After all, all that end game needs is 10 billion frozen corpses hanging out in those tin cans, and a small team of staff left to keep the place running. How it gets there is something he can afford to be flexible about. If people won't climb in on their own, he can put them there.
So when C— or the nun tell him to stop focusing on revenge, to bend all his energies to saving the world, I think he thinks: Well, I am. He's gonna wash the earth clean at the end of this! He just needs to be able to set the dominoes in motion. He just needs to engineer a situation that will justify taking his nuke out of the vault and making the pieces fall.
A situation that would be sabotaged, ruined, if anyone made a true deep sincere good-faith effort to talk him out of Plan Nuke and called the legitimacy of this crisis into any sort of question. He needs to prevent that from happening.
Actually. Also. He needs one more thing than that.
He needs an excuse to use the nuke, but also, he's finishing his homework at the very last minute. He still hasn't mastered the soul. He does need a few more test subjects.
Maybe he let her in and thought: Two birds with one stone, eh?
#lis's tlt theories#the locked tomb#the locked tomb spoilers#ntn spoilers#htn spoilers#cristabel oct#john gaius must die
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Yan! Male Teachers + Male Yandere x male reader
*this is based on a dream I had this morning*
(Reader is on his last year so he's 18 (he's not held back I just try to make it okay with an adult partner) (my dream is PG-13(the yandere is made up), I just like spice)
My life is normal I guess, the difference with normal people at my age is my current school. This is takes "school feels like a prison" seriously with how we sleep at school eat at school and etc.
For our class, it's literally right next to the teacher's room. And each grade has a different section. Because it's a prestigious school the student is a lot more than the teacher by 50% of the teachers population.
Anyway, you might be asking, do you always have class? The answer is no, cause our right door is a building for gym and gymnasium. The door in front of us is where usually all the supplies comes in.
Today there is a monthly test. it's usually for additional points and support for our future. Example: last year it was making a sentence that's in correlation with a word and we can't use that word. There lots more but every time we were paired.
Look at that I'm also paired up again weirdly enough it's the "prince of the school" the one that's said to be the best for our grade, though his grade is in the top two, guess who's grade is higher? That right me. Since we're better than everyone, we get hallway to ourselves
It's so fun being better at him, when he gets a 100% me too, when he gets a 99% Boohoo I got a 100%. His body is also quite fit, but it's obvious with my height and body that I'm still better than him, with his being shorter than me. It's quite fun toying with him, his expression of flustered and anger add a smidge of pink on his face, neck and tip of his ears.
We're getting carried away. This year's test is a box of puzzles? With a textured flooring? Whatever. We saw the first test, summarizing a foreign language book, and there's our names on it. It seems like something from our teacher Mr. David. Then he shows up, "hello Mr. David" "Hello, (m/n)~" He was always flirty with me "hi Mr. David" "Hello to you too, mark".then he told us about it in detail "As you can see it's summarizing a book and because I prefer (m/n) than you, mark, (m/n) gets a 50 page and you get a 250 page it's sounds quite fair don't you think (m/n)" "Sure 😀"
Anyway, we're done with that, the next are some simple mathematics and that's from our other teachers. Wow it looks like we have to build a Miniature real life-like humanoid chess pieces. Now it seems like we're done but there's no announcement, then I realized the flooring is a bit whacky so I try to pick one up. It works. I open one and inside it is extra pieces for the sculpture and that's from Mr. Sears, the science teacher that likes to use science to hide a lot of things
It's similar with how some sounds lie it has a lot but there is none and then one of then sounds like it doesn't have any but when we opened it there was a lot of extra sculpture pieces. Then I saw one of the boxes has a piece of paper. I was about to read it out loud then I feel a finger right next to my stomach, and I couldn't help but feel ticklish and jerk away from the finger. Turns out it the said teacher, Mr. Sears, and he kept tickling me every time I try to say it out loud. In the end he made me stand up and go to a corner and read it in my head. Most of it was clues until the last number on the price of paper that said 'I will be going to *city name* in a few days' "I don't care" "What!" " We're not that close teach~, Well not as close as me and Mr. David~."
Then he stormes off, don't know what happened but in the end me and Mark Finished first.
*A few days later*
It seems like Mr. Sears didn't go and one of our teacher was suddenly sent to the hospital
*A few month later*
I finally graduated, best of the year as well because of that I get a lot of money lie a billion I think. But right when I was going head home, I felt someone covering my head, then two people try to grab me and they're quite strong, but not strong enough. Suddenly I feel something injected to my neck. And I grew weak and dizzy not long after I passed out. While why kidnappers was smiling over me.
It's been a while since I woke up but I still don't know where I am. There a window that just over my head so I'm able to get hold of it and pulled my self up and saw... A beach?
Then after looking around and the sun almost overhead meaning it's currently 11.30 ish o'clock. Three people come in and guess who? It the weirdos. Mr. David feels shy, Mr. Sears a bit nervous and Mark quite happy.
And the brought their own dish a I must say the best is Mr. David, with the other two being barely palatable. In the end we slept right next to each other.
*A year later* (I'm lazy)
My self-made company worked well, but my "wives" seems quite jealous of everything I do even though we haven't gotten married yet and Mark and Sears are working as my two secretary and David being at home. I must say David's body got more chubby and soft, I like it. Mark kept trying to be better at me at everything and kept losing, example: who can cum the last, I won, who's stronger, I won, and much more. And Sears gotten smarter at where he's hiding my stuff, like my underwear, sweaty gym clothes, a pen I chewed.
I'm happy there entertaining because I just remembered I'm a side character in a book and they're male leads, all three of them, and who's the female lead you ask? The new rising employee in my own company, Janice.
#male yandere x male reader#sub yandere#dom male reader#sub male yandere#bottom male yandere#top male reader
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omg hai ! i was waiting for u to have no pending hcs. can u write some hcs about bruno and giorno preparing to and then proposing to their s/o? :> love ur stuff btw ;3
Author's Note: I'm so sorry for making you wait. Thank you for this request and above all thank you for your appreciation. Seeing you in my notifications makes me happy. Hope you'll enjoy it! The GIFs are not mine and I thank the owners.
Bruno Bucciarati, Giorno Giovanna x reader proposal headcanons
Bruno Bucciarati
- He will take care of everything alone, planning each detail. At least that's how it goes at first for only a little while because the others decide to join in, too happy that he finally decided to take this step. He will be pestered with crazy ideas from everyone.
- At first, he thinks about doing something big for you, after all, it's what you fully deserve. Something elegant, grand. But he starts thinking that it probably wouldn't be comfortable and heartfelt for you. He fell in love with how profound you are so something fancy and over the top wouldn't be as impressive to you as others think.
- After feelings of excitement and joy because he had reached this point in his life, comes nervousness. A heavy worry about what can go wrong. He's anxious and it's rare to see him like lose his cool like that, it's visible to everyone. However, Bucciarati will slowly calm down by replaying in his mind all the conversations you two had about the future so many times. He wants to make all the dreams you have about this moment come true.
- However, the strongest emotion of all, it's devotion. Devotion is a very powerful feeling that comes from a sense of commitment and loyalty. For Bucciarati, it also comes from a sense of admiration and respect that he has for you. He wants to show you all of these with this proposal.
- He decides to propose to you on a trip to the coast of Napoli. More precisely, his hometown. The last time he was there, his heart was torn apart, now he wants to create a new memory there, a loving one that is going to heal even the last thing in him that's broken. Some might say that it seems too self-centered but it's not. You asked him to take you there so many times after he opened up about his childhood and what happened.
- One late night, Abbachio will notice Bucciarati alone looking at the ring, lost in thought. He will understand right away that Bucciarati is asking himself if you'll say yes to him, after everything you know about him and everything you've been through because of him being a mafioso. Abbachio will sit down next to him sighing, before reassuring him that your wish to be with him will surpass anything, he just knows it.
- Of course, Bucciarati wrote down his confession and even memorized it but as he gets on one knee, his mind goes blank. He ends up talking from his heart.
"I know I was supposed to wait until the right time, but my heart can't stand without telling you. Everything feels right for me when I'm with you. I never thought I would be so lucky to find someone like you and not be taken away from my life. You fill the missing pieces of my heart. Will you marry me?"
Giorgio Giovanna
- He too prefers getting everything done alone and that's why he doesn't tell anyone, knowing how the others will want to be involved with the preparations. However, everyone starts noticing how he's more distracted than usual but no one knows what's on his mind that's so important.
- He wants to do something intimate, different than those basic ideas he has seen, and away from any hassle. Giorno thinks that this moment is only yours. A profound moment between your bound hearts.
- Giorno chooses a sunny place, close to the sea. More exactly, on the Amalfi Coast, where the Bougainvillea flowers bloom (visual). Why? Because he knows how your face lights up when he uses his stand ability and flowers bloom around. His heart also skips a beat when he sees you around flowers, it makes it look like his paradise. And because it's a calm place not many know about.
- The emotion Giorno feels the most is longing. Longing, that sense of yearning for something or someone. Giorno yearned for you and now he yearns for a future with you. It took him some time to make this transition, but now it's so very intense.
- At first, for a long time after deciding it's time to propose to you, Giorno doesn't feel nervous about it because he knows that you two shared a dream for a profound commitment. But in time, as the moment approaches, there is one question that makes him overthink everything.
- Giorno sometimes will look at you from afar and clench his hand around the ring in his pocket. One time, it's noticeable. Mista stepped closer to him, sensing something wrong, but not saying a word yet. Without moving his gaze from you, Giorno asks himself in a quiet tone so that Mista can hear too, if he will be able to make you this happy forever. Mista nodded, understanding everything but not knowing how to reassure him. He tells Giorno that because he worries about your happiness, he is already halfway there.
- Giorno doesn't want to write down his confession, thinking that such a thing shouldn't be planned. He wants to speak from the bottom of his heart, holding your hands as he always did when he was alone with you. However, when he's on one knee, he starts wishing he had written down at least some phrases because he's lost. When he looks into your eyes, he knows, he is ready.
“As I look at you now, I realize that the world is a better place with you in it. I cherish every second we have together, and I feel like I can breathe freely when you are beside me. I don't want a future without you. I, Giorno Giovanna, have another dream now. To make you happy. Will you let me try and will you marry me?”
#jojo bizarre adventure#bruno bucciarati#giorno giovanna#jjba bucciarati#jjba giorno#jjba part 5#jjba fanfic#bucciarati x reader#giorno x reader#jjba x reader#golden wind#vento aureo#jjba headcanons
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FAQs
Welcome to the FAQs post for Within Your Eyes. More may be added in the future!
Do you take NSFW Asks?
Yes! [Though at the moment, Asks are closed]
Will there be more poly routes?
Right now, the polyamorous routes I’ve included felt "right" to me. While I'm open to the idea of introducing more, I want to ensure that each route is well-developed and fulfilling. Therefore, I’m carefully considering any additional paths. My main focus right now is enhancing gameplay elements and keeping a manageable workload. Future updates might bring new possibilities, but for now, my energy is dedicated to enhancing the current experiences.
How many NSFW scenes will there be?
I let the story guide me a lot on certain things, letting it unfold organically, including NSFW moments. While I do follow a detailed timeline for the story, it's flexible enough to accommodate new ideas, including unplanned NSFW scenes. So, the exact number isn't predetermined — there could be quite a few, depending on how the story unfolds.
You should do __________!!
I receive a variety of suggestions for many aspects of the game. To streamline this process, I've set up a dedicated Feedback form. Please note that while I'm open to hearing your ideas, especially about technical aspects, there are limits to the changes I can implement. I encourage you to read the guidelines carefully before submitting!
Why can't the MC be a virgin?
Initially, I thought the MC's virginity could be an implicit aspect of their background, but I now recognize its significance to some players. While my story isn't purely NSFW, I can see the appeal for having this option, and I'm actively working on incorporating it — this includes adjusting existing scenes. I apologize for any oversight and appreciate your patience!
You said you've been working on this world for so long, why isn't it done?
Bringing a world that's been growing in my imagination for over a decade into an interactive format like Twine has been quite an endeavor. Initially, I envisioned a linear story with three main characters across three stories. However, as I started adapting it to an interactive, choice-driven narrative, I realized these characters wouldn't work as I had intended. This realization led to the introduction of a new character—our beloved Warden—and a shift in the storyline that hadn't been part of the original plan. These adaptations have opened up possibilities that have significantly enhanced my world. It’s taken time, yes, but the depth it's brought has been absolutely worth it!
"Who is ???" or "I already know who ??? is!"
While I love your curiosity and detective work (looking at you, code divers), I must tread carefully here. There’s definitely more than meets the eye. What you think you know is just another piece of a much larger puzzle. Regardless, I hope it will be worth the wait!
I love your story, thank you for sharing!
I promise I see you, and words cannot convey how much I appreciate and adore every message I've received. I keep them to uplift me on the hard days. I may not be able to answer them all, but know I cherish every one! Thank you for being a part of this journey ♥
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The Thread Unfurls Against the Clocks: Saint-14 and how we saved him
Hello. It's time. I already did one summary of how we saved Saint, but I want to go even more in-depth because I later realised that so much of this is unavailable and also happened so long ago that most people don't even know where to look for it and what to look for. I also want to address all the adjacent lore like the stuff about the Sundial and also how it all relates to the current plot.
Finally, I want this to serve as an explanation that there's something very weird going on and that the Saint we have is the real Saint. I've seen people already super resigned after this week's story, simply accepting that there was a reveal that he is truly the "wrong" Saint. I want to analyse all we have on Saint in-depth and focus on how we saved him to show the level of detail involved because I think it's important to understand things in the episode.
Obviously, really compelling lore changes can happen and work out, but in this case I'm just not feeling it, for various reasons. We'll see, but I still think this is worth putting together and that we have plenty of indications that we saved him "correctly" so to speak.
Saint is a unanimously beloved character and one that is so closely linked to our player character as well. The setup for his return was established so long ago and was kept consistent the entire time. I feel like the stuff in Echoes is almost like a culmination of it all, as well as a reminder about what we've done. We'll suffer for a bit for sure but there is no doubt in my mind that Saint will come from this safe and healed. No matter what ends up being revealed, I believe he will be fine.
Contents! Long post under. Spoilers for Echoes Act 2, mostly just in the Echoes section.
Intro
Curse of Osiris quest
Season of Dawn
What's up with the Sundial?
Echoes
Intro
I'm not sure how familiar people are with the full scope of Saint-14, but he's been a character since the beginning. We didn't know much about him at all; the first mention was in vanilla D1 in this grimoire about the Darkness, listing what various characters think about it. Saint's thoughts:
Saint-14's Position argues that the Darkness was an invading armada, an alien force of incredible - but tangible - power. Some adherents believe that this armada sprang from species rejected or discarded by the Traveler for their sins.
All things considered, he wasn't that far off! Really cool detail, but this lore was referenced in TFS, in the lore book Chirality, and especially Saint's bit:
* Saint-14's Position is the most eminently practical of the bunch, no matter how the man himself protests that such an obvious facet of the truth doesn't require a formal philosophical stance to be named for him.
There's 10 years separating these lore pieces! But they're still being referenced because there are some incredible nerds writing this.
This doesn't tell us much about Saint, besides that he's thinking in very practical terms. He views the Darkness as something that can be fought back. Note that at the start we don't know anything else about him, not even if he's a Guardian. In House of Wolves, we get this lore where the author (the Speaker) is going off about Osiris. We get a little piece about Saint; Saint-14 suggested that Osiris should become Vanguard Commander and also vouched for Osiris. This was the first piece of info that these two are familiar with each other. How far we've come since!
After that, we get his helmet as an exotic in The Taken King (though it has no lore other than the flavour text) and a little bit of insight into him with the first proper lore tab that actually features him as a character. It shows his iconic headbutt and ends with him deciding to follow Osiris to Mercury. A few little details are mentioned in flavour text on the following items, mostly quotes about or from Saint: 1, 2, 3, 4. Number 3 is interesting:
"Stand with your back to the Wall, and not even the Darkness itself will move you." —Saint-14
Remember that!
There's a few more in Rise of Iron, again, just flavour text. He's really funny here, and being his usual heroic self here. That's it for his stuff in D1. Saint-14 was some sort of historic figure, he was a Titan, he fought in historic battles, he fought against the Eliksni and he had some sort of connection with the Speaker and Osiris. He was a practical man, a warrior and a protector.
He wasn't really a full character or anything and only had a few quotes and one lore tab where he actually does something. But the stage was set! He was clearly a character they wanted to explore and they did, in Curse of Osiris.
Curse of Osiris quest
Curse of Osiris returned his helmet as an exotic item and immediately gave us hints about the expansion of Saint-14's character and where they're leading him. The lore tab on the exotic is a conversation between Cayde-6 and Lord Shaxx where Cayde-6 insists that Saint is not dead, while Shaxx is just kind of resigned to it. Cayde also notes that Saint was a "weirdo:"
C6: No one ever put down a Kell faster than he could. But man, he was a real weirdo. SX: Eccentricity was his strength. C6: Talking about the Speaker like you're related to him is eccentric. Claiming he's seen the future, that he fought Six Fronts fueled on the idea that some Guardian savior is coming? That's insane.
Wait a minute. Saint-14 claimed he's seen the future and that he believed in "some Guardian savior"? What's that about? Wink wink. Nudge nudge. To make things even more obvious, the remaining conversation is... about the Young Wolf:
SX: Belief is a hell of a thing. C6: Sure, yeah. One Guardian's going to fix everything. Kick Crota off the Moon. Make it look like us Vanguard know our head from our hindquarters. Hey, where are you going? SX: One of the new recruits from Old Russia I've had my eye on—entering the Crucible for the first time. C6: Hey, maybe they're the one. We'll call 'em Crota's End.
Maybe Cayde should've started making prophecies too! But yeah. This was the first proper hint about what they cooked up for Saint's story. Saint has apparently seen the future and believed in a "Guardian savior" and he fought for the City fuelled by this belief. Very interesting! To make things weirder, there's Saint-14's Gray Pigeon which also features some strange lore at the end where Saint addresses an unknown person:
To my inspiration. Your final gift to me I now send back to you. It will be good to see you again.
This was wild to read at the time because it clearly references something that we don't know about, but that's incredibly important to Saint. The theory was that he might be talking to us, the Young Wolf, but how?
That's where the quest comes in. Curse famously didn't have a lot of content, but it did have the post-campaign quest with Lost Prophecies. They were a set of quests where we essentially had to collect items to transform "prophecy tablets" into weapons in the Infinite Forge which was a sort of interactable area in the Lighthouse on Mercury:
There were a total of 11 of these, with the final one being to acquire the Perfect Paradox. Each weapon came with a prophecy in the flavour text and a lore tab. The final one however, Perfect Paradox, triggered a whole separate quest in two parts. In part one, we discover an old Vanguard comm signal coming from the Forest which we follow and analyse to discover that the signal is from Saint-14.
Detecting traces of familiar Light up here. Wait… Saint-14? He's been missing for decades. Saint was one of the greatest Titans who ever lived. Hero of Six Fronts. All that power and he just… vanished. The City's still looking for him.
This quest also features this conversation from Osiris and Sagira:
Osiris: If Saint-14 is lost in the Infinite Forest, it's because he came here to find us. Sagira: You can't blame yourself for every missing Guardian, Osiris. Osiris: For him I can.
If you're lucky (or unlucky, depending on how many emotions this gives you), you can hear this line from Sagira in Presage. This is where it comes from!
The quest is kinda set up in a way to make you think we'll actually be saving Saint here. We finally found his comm signal and it's leading us into the Forest. He's clearly affected the Vex and the Forest with his Light and he's fighting back. Osiris gets involved and urges us to find him. The whole thing feels like we're doing what we usually do; find a problem and fix it.
Part two of the quest continues in a similar vein. The quest is called "Not even the Darkness," btw. Remember that quote from Saint from The Taken King? Yeah. Anyway, we go back to following the trace leading us to Saint, into the Infinite Forest, this time into a simulated future. There, the Vex get alerted and summon a big Minotaur; Hagios, Reverent Mind (whose name means "sacred" in Greek, so essentially... Saint). We kill the Minotaur and then the area behind it opens; it appears to have been guarding it.
When it opens, we're treated to a bittersweet sight:
The area is beautiful, but it's a tomb. Saint-14's body is laid out like this in a pillar of light, surrounded by piles and piles of dead Vex. The Vex fought him for an unknown amount of time and they ended up respecting him; enough to create a tomb and seal his body and set a whole Vex mind to guard it, and apparently, revere it. Despite how hopeful we've been about saving him, he is dead.
As we approach his body, we take the remains of his personal weapon. Back at the Lighthouse, we use these remains and the prophecy to craft the weapon as it was; Perfect Paradox shotgun. The prophecy attached to it:
A tale that's different from the rest: the thread unfurls against the clocks. The one the Speaker loved the best must have a perfect paradox.
The prophecy is from Osiris, of course, which means that at some point when he was making them, he already knew about the strange fate of Saint-14. Not that he is dead; Osiris hoped to find him in the Forest. But his prophecy talks about time travel and a paradox. In the lore tab itself, Saint attached a letter to the gun in which he once again addresses a mysterious person. This person is now definitively identified as us:
All I have left is this weapon. The Cryptarchs say you crafted it yourself, built it out of scraps and Light and sheer will, inside the Infinite Forge. I'll make sure it finds its way back to you.
Well that's correct. We crafted the weapon in the Infinite Forge. But we only did so after recovering its remains from Saint's body, so how could he have had the gun in the first place? Almost like... there's some sort of a time travel paradox involved. This was naturally bizarre at the time; we had nothing else on Saint or any of this during this quest, just these vague baffling hints that there's more to the story. Especially since it involves our character; Saint repeatedly talks as if he had already met us. He says so in the letter as well:
I mourn that I will never reach the heights you have. To me, you represent everything a Guardian can become. Yours is a thriving City. So different from mine. My whole fourteenth life I fought to make my City yours. I never finished.
He knows that our City is thriving and that we are "everything a Guardian can become." But we've never seen him before. This was really confusing and there was also not even a promise that it would be resolved. But it felt like something that they cared about deeply.
It would take 3 years until we got the resolution.
Season of Dawn
This is a big one in general because they really wanted to be as attentive to all details as possible. Even before the season started, they released several weblore pieces to remind us of Saint and bring up some important information.
The first one was The Accolade, about Saint's past and heroic deeds revolving around saving people. The weblore focuses on explaining what his "accolades" are; aka his purple ribbons on his armour and ship. They're gifts from people he saved; tokens of appreciation that turned into a type of a ritual with Saint. If you're saved by Saint, you have to give him something purple and he will wear it with him and remember your name. It ends with Osiris shortly after we found Saint's grave. Osiris went to see it for himself, to check, to make sure. He also laments that he never asked about the ribbons.
The next one is a glimpse into the past, a conversation between Osiris and Saint as Saint hands him the Vanguard Commander title. It's a good look into how that all happened, as well as the differences in approach and beliefs between Osiris and Saint.
And then they released The Sundial weblore (TW for suicide if you're reading the full weblore. One of his Echoes does not have a good time). Osiris is found on Mercury with a machine he built, putting finishing touches on it. It's called the Sundial. Osiris built it in response to Saint being dead, the implication very much being that he intends to use some form of time travel or some other time shenanigans to change the outcome and save him. Osiris never recovered from learning that he's dead and from seeing his dead body in the tomb. The design is Sagira's, and he's also helped by Drifter, who shows up to check the math. I'll go more into the Sundial later.
Osiris wraps up his work on it and turns it on. He splits into his Echoes and enters the machine to start searching through Saint's timeline on Mercury with the intent to find the right moment with the right Saint to save him; he is specifically looking for the moment when they drain his Light.
Osiris’s Echoes scour Saint-14’s timeline on Mercury. But the corridors of time refuse to give way to the moment they need: Saint and the Martyr Mind in the depths of the Infinite Forest. The Echoes work tirelessly for weeks, then months in the space between moments. In desperation, he splits the dozen copies into many thousands more as the work continues fruitlessly.
Osiris experiences what the kids these days call "epic fail."
None of the Echoes ever approaches a Saint. They never find the right one.
Despite all the work put into this machine and all of his knowledge and skill, Osiris doesn't manage to use the Sundial successfully. He never finds the right moment and he never saves him. It's worth noting that when Osiris used thousands of his Echoes, he experienced the time and life of every single one. But for Osiris outside the Sundial, it's only been a few moments. In those few moments, he essentially lived thousands of lifetimes. And died thousands of times. I need people to understand the amount of effort he put into this and what kind of an emotional toll it had.
Completely defeated, he gives up and hides the Sundial. He moves on with his life, doing what he always does, until stuff suddenly changes, which is explored in the next weblore: Actions of Mutual Friends. Us killing the Undying Mind in the season before Dawn changed everything, for the Vex and everyone else. We essentially created a point of divergence. The Vex suddenly had to change their projections of the future; Osiris noticed this and got very concerned.
While he wasn't looking, his Sundial was found, by Psion sisters. They figure out the potential of the Sundial and work to reactivate it, which they succeed in. The Red Legion descends on Mercury, looking to use the Sundial to essentially rewrite the course of the Red War and win.
Osiris finds out and goes to Ikora, to the City, to ask for help. This is the topic of the next weblore: Desperate Times. Osiris defends his choice to make the Sundial to save Saint, despite everybody else basically trying to explain to him that the universe might implode because of it.
This is a lot of setup, but it's necessary. It all leads into what happens in the season and what the season revolves around; saving Saint. It wasn't even a secret, as they very clearly showed it right away in the trailer (best trailer they've ever done). The seasonal gameplay revolved around us using the Sundial to defeat the Red Legion and stop them from trying to figure out how to essentially change the course of history. We had to fight three different Psion bosses, one of each of the sisters, until the end, when the three of them joined together into a single Psion entity for us to defeat.
As we were using the Sundial for this, Osiris also told us about what he made it for originally. He explains a little bit about it and about his failure to succeed, then warns us against using it for ourselves, but doesn't stop us.
I told you before - I tried to save Saint-14. I bent the rules of time using a prototype of the Sundial. It allowed me to walk the corridors of time here on Mercury. But I failed. I never found Saint's final moment against the Vex. I encountered younger versions from his first mission to Mercury, among others. But none were the right Saint. The prototype Sundial still exists, accessible off the main deck. And it can still travel through Saint's personal timeline on this planet. But venture there at your own peril. He cannot be saved. I have walked every permutation of those corridors with a hundred thousand of my Echoes and found nothing. Saint-14 is lost.
Despite this, we make the attempt and then the first part of the quest starts. When we use it, the Sundial reacts. It reacts specifically to the Perfect Paradox:
The Shotgun you crafted in the Infinite Forge is reacting to the Sundial! An onboard transponder is broadcasting coordinates: a path through the Sundial, crossing two time periods. The prophecy blueprint you used to create the Perfect Paradox must have included this broadcast. If you can open up the initial chamber, I can align us to the first time period the broadcast is referencing.
The two time periods are two points in time where it's relevant that we meed with Saint. The first one is in the Dark Age, when he came to Mercury with civilians in an attempt to reclaim the planet and help the struggling population of Earth with resources and possibly old Golden Age technologies. We connect to Saint via comms. He is devastated and demoralised. He failed to protect his people and he's also under siege by the Eliksni and is more or less resigned to dying. Lucky for him, we get there in time to help him out of this situation.
After the battle, we talk to him. Our Ghost hesitates a little but then decides to do it anyway; he shows Saint the projection of the Last City from the future, to prove to him that the everything will be fine if he continues to fight and stays hopeful. We also give him the Perfect Paradox, to help him fight. The loop is set! This gun was crafted in the future and was brought to the past. In time, Saint will die with it and we will pick up its remains from his body, allowing us to craft it in the first place.
Saint-14: What is this? Ghost: The Perfect Paradox. Built by my Guardian out of spare parts and Light and sheer will to aid you.
More importantly, this is the moment that Saint spoke of to other people that made him seem crazy. As we've seen in lore from years before, Saint kept saying that he saw a thriving City and that there's some sort of Guardian savior coming and that he's seen this future. He also wrote in that letter how we gave him the shotgun and how we saved him. This part of the quest is constructed around this lore. This moment is what Saint remembered and talked about. We saved him and invigorated his will to keep going. This is why he is the way he is.
We part ways and leave the Sundial. Ghost immediately goes to check if we messed anything up and to let us know that there's one more point in time to go to:
Okay, let's check the Tower databases to make sure we didn't just wreck the entire timeline. Queuing "Saint-14"… Records state he was a former Commander of the Tower. He vanished on a final mission to Mercury in search of the exiled Warlock Osiris. Well, those are the big beats. Timeline intact. Good job, Saint. But our trip's not over. That broadcast I picked off the Perfect Paradox marked one more set of coordinates within the Sundial.
The second part of the quest started a bit later, but it doesn't waste any time once it does. We're immediately linked up to the other point in time that Perfect Paradox reacted to and we're back in simulated future, in the same area where back in Curse we fought Hagios who guarded the entry to Saint's tomb. Except now, we find Saint who has just had his Light drained from him by another Vex mind; Agioktis, Martyr Mind (note that the name is more or less in the same vein as "hagios," aka "sacred," dedicated to Saint). This is the moment Osiris was looking for, but couldn't find it, because he didn't have the Perfect Paradox.
This is the Vex mind they built to destroy Saint and we find him as his Light has already been taken. But Saint is still eager to fight and greets us happily. Unfortunately Saint is then restrained, the Vex doing everything in their power to kill him. However, this time he's not alone. We're there and we fight in his stead. We manage to piss off the Martyr Mind enough for it to now move to restrain us, which frees Saint, returning his Light to him as well. Saint then delivers the final blow to the Martyr Mind which frees us!
Saint-14: It's been a long time, my friends. I've chased your memory for centuries. You should go now. Those who could kill me are dead. You've made sure of that. Ghost: And what if the Vex take your Light again? Saint-14: Impossible. It cost them everything to build the Martyr Mind. When you crushed it, they were doomed. Ghost: You want us to leave you? You'll be stuck here for years. Saint-14: You've both done plenty. Just open the Infinite Forest gate for me. I'll meet you the long way around, at the entrance. Saint-14: What's a few more years of fighting Vex?
Saint decides to stay in the Forest and wait until we open it from the outside for him, in the future. This is how he leaves in the right time, instead of too early for his timeline, so nothing else is really affected. He waits it out and then exits the Forest at the time of Season of Dawn. This gives us one of the shortest but also the best cutscenes ever. As a note, in the cutscene, when Saint leaves, the Forest gate looks new, like from Mercury's past. This is because of the Sundial's effects on the surface of Mercury at the time, splitting the surface through time, so the Forest gate looked like it's from the past, but it's not. It's present day Mercury.
When we report this to Osiris, to say that he's amazed would be an understatement. I often quoted this from him, especially when people were being weird about Osiris and claiming he doesn't like us or whatever:
In his youth, he talked often about the Guardian who inspired him. I should have guessed it would be you.
We've done the impossible. Literally. The quest is called "Impossible Task." Osiris did everything and he couldn't do it and he lost hope that it would be done. But we did it, because we created the time loop; a connection with Saint that allowed us to use the Sundial in a way Osiris could not.
Saint has been saved! After this, he settled in the Tower. He had a series of minor quests and errands, the best one being the quest for the Devil's Ruin exotic which featured a really long and funny conversation between Saint and Shaxx. Another one is obviously the Corridors of Time quest which is genuinely cannot be compared to anything else as it was a community puzzle of epic proportions. An article that showcases just a little bit of how bonkers it was.
The important part of it is that the culmination of the quest featured us finding our own grave and Saint narrating a eulogy for us. This is important to us now for two reasons: 1) on our grave was a sword, a sword we received as an actual item in TFS, directly from the Traveler to fight the Witness 2) it's possibly a different timeline. The second one is unclear because we simply can't know when we die, but the eulogy specifies that the sword was shattered in the final confrontation where we died. Our current sword is chipped, and it wasn't when we originally got it in the campaign. So either this is a different timeline where it didn't shatter or this isn't that confrontation when we die and it will shatter at some other point in the future.
In this post I also noted how the music that plays in our grave scene and the music that played in TFS when we get the sword is the same. A very clear and deliberate choice. This is a very cool link to Season of Dawn that they brought back over 4 years later.
With the Corridors of Time puzzle ending and the Corridors closing, that concluded the Saint stuff. He was finally saved and he could rest in the Tower! And we know everything that has happened since.
Okay. So...
What's up with the Sundial?
We don't know! But I want to get into it because it's one of those things that they made sure to hint about, without fully explaining it so obviously every weird nerd online (me) wants to figure it out.
Back in The Sundial weblore, there are some peculiar and never explained details about the Sundial that have been kinda concerning and just intriguing to think about. There are a few lines essentially saying that whatever is at its core, it's not good. First is Sagira's:
“That work was theoretical! If the Vanguard find out what you did to build it—“
What did he do to build it? No clue. The infamous core is described only as:
He turned to look at the fluctuating glow of the exposed chronometric core.
When the Drifter shows up, he immediately reacts to this, fairly negatively which makes things more ominous since Drifter tangles with a lot of weird and bad stuff himself. So if he's disturbed about this...:
Drifter walked to the central spire and put his ear up against it. “This core…” he said, leaning close. His eyes darted back to Osiris. “It’s whispering.” Osiris’s expression didn’t change; his arms didn’t uncross. “We’ll seal the core away. I understand the ramifications.” “Good luck keeping that contained. Not something I would bargain with, hotshot.”
The core "whispers." Osiris understands the ramifications. They're both so frustratingly vague so the only thing we're left with is this ominous vibe of something bad being at the center of the Sundial.
This whispering, alongside a few other concerning descriptions and implications of the Sundial is mentioned in yet another weblore that I only briefly mentioned earlier because it wasn't relevant to Saint stuff; Sisters. It's about the Psions finding the machine.
The Psions could somehow feel the Sundial. Or perhaps just the effects it had on time on Mercury, even while it was powered down and hidden.
“Small disturbances,” said oldest Ozletc, the wisest. “Little currents in this timeline. Can you see them, sister?” “I can taste them,” said second-born Tazaroc, the hungriest of her sisters. “I can feel the edges.” Third-born Niruul, the quietest among them, reached her hand out to test the air. “As can I,” said she. “And something else. The source is disguised. The technology is Human, but refined. Surprisingly so.”
They also note the whispering, as well as its potential:
A strange device shimmered into existence around them. They looked up the length of an enormous, golden spire. “It whispers,” said Tazaroc. “Then block your ears,” said Ozletc. “Do you see the potential in this?” “Chaos,” said Niruul. “No,” said Ozletc. “Opportunity. See how it tugs at the fabric of our time? Can you see the seams?”
They also make the strange comparison to the OXA:
“It is so clear,” said Niruul, reverent. “An unobstructed glimpse into what was and what will be.” “Not the troubled ramblings of a mad thing, like the OXA,” said Tazaroc.
The Sundial offered something more and better than the OXA ever could, implying, perhaps, that these machines have something in common; possibly something beyond simply Vex technology. My insanity about this has been going on for a long time and also helped with the TFS CE lore. A bit of a tangent, but also possibly related, depending on what the core is.
Furthermore, Osiris refused to tell Saint about details of the Sundial, including remaining vague about its core in this weblore:
[u.2:13] One is a manifestation of Light. The other… reserved for Taken Kings. Better suited for traversing the Sundial because of what lies at its core. [u.1:14] One day you’ll have to tell me exactly what you and the Guardian did to bring me back. [u.2:14] We did what we had to. Trust me.
So what is it? Well, we know:
It whispers (very obvious and easily detected, both by Drifter and the Psions)
It's something bad (Drifter's reaction to it is uncharacteristic for a man who tangles with the Taken for a living and deals with strange dangerous artifacts all the time)
Osiris' Echoes are better suited for the Sundial because of its core, and Echoes are something "reserved for Taken Kings." Bizarre way of saying it to avoid explaining it
Similar to the OXA, and possibly any other time/prediction machines based on Vex tech (because the OXA itself is confirmed to be more or less the same as the FWC Device, for example)
To recharge it, we needed to feed it Light. This is particularly concerning with what Osiris says about it: "The Sundial is my greatest creation and my greatest regret. What I had to do to forge it I can never take back. As a result, it has components that consume Light. And if you're serious about operating it again, you'll need to feed it. Nothing is free. Ever."
What this points to, to me at least, is Darkness. The core is a Darkness artifact of some sort, merged with Vex tech. This only gained more proof to me with all the new lore about the Darkness and how it governs the mind and memory, especially when the Vex are involved. To the Vex, the future is memory. Merging Darkness artifacts with the Vex might be able to create dangerous time travel machines or machines that displace consciousness through time and timelines, like the OXA and the Device, allowing the user to "predict."
To make things even more convoluted (and me more insane), there's an almost perfect explanation for what this artifact might be. So perfect that I feel like it's too good to be true, tbh. It's a Nezarec relic. I will now list everything that connects this:
It would explain the Darkness artifact. Nezarec's relics were full of Darkness and were being used by utilising that Darkness
Drifter's involvement and experience with it. Hell, the Drifter may have even provided this relic to Osiris, since he had one and did not particularly enjoy having it, which was detailed in Lightfall when they showed us how he got it. Plunder was also rich on this, showing us that the Drifter immediately recognised the relics and understood what they were.
Whispering. Darkness in general has a whispering thing; the Veiled statues, the Witness, the old stories about Dredgen Yor, there's a lot of whispering going on here. But it's really super connected to Nezarec. His relics were whispering to us in the H.E.L.M.. The glaive? Nezarec's Whisper. Another disciple also called him a "whispering Nightmare." All of Root of Nightmares armour lore has it as well, with Nezarec tormenting his victims with whispers; for example here, and here, and maybe even here. I could go on. He's the whisper guy. Literally, Nimbus called him Mr. Whispers.
Psions. The Psion sisters found and reactivated the Sundial... Somehow. They especially were able to almost instinctively locate it despite Osiris hiding it well enough. The Psions also needed quite a lot of time to activate it again and admired the complexity of the encryption, despite it being human, so we can't really say that they found it easily because Osiris' did a poor job of hiding it. Were they drawn to it? Were they drawn to it because of its core? Psions are inherently linked to Nezarec. It's been confirmed back in Lightfall, but also curiously mentioned again in TFS with the Lost Ghosts quest (timestamped here). I'm definitely hoping for some Psion content in the future but this is fairly interesting in this context. Season of Dawn was really the only proper Psion-focused storyline.
Osiris' coma. His coma appears to have been somehow paracausal. At least strange! The scans were showing that he has "no residual activity" in his brain, despite us having lore from his POV showing us that he had a very vivid and visceral activity. He was able to feel some external stimuli, but was mostly drifting through strange visions, seemingly hopping between his... Reflections. Or possibly Echoes. His final thoughts here are also of the Sundial; as if his mind was somehow stuck in there, or lost, trying to find his way out of it. This could just be a consequence of his memories constructing something for him to experience so obviously it's just cycling through what he knows, but...
Waking Osiris up from his coma happens with the use of Nezarec's relics. An important point to note here is that this wasn't so much about it being Nezarec's relics; it had more to do with the inherent Darkness they consist of and Darkness can help the mind and consciousness move or awaken. However, given all of this and given his POV from the coma and the possibility that his mind might have been stuck somewhere with his Echoes in the Sundial, if the Sundial's core is a Nezarec relic, then a Nezarec relic had more chance to bring him back. It's such a perfect connection that I feel insane thinking about it and it feels like I'm constructing a fanfic, but also. I think it's worth considering. Cutscene of him waking up + article from Bungie that details on the whole idea of waking him up with Darkness and why that's important for understanding Darkness.
I have to mention the other theory, especially in comparison with all the above to try and illustrate why it never made sense to me and that is the popular theory that the core of the Sundial is an Ahamkara bone and that the Sundial worked on wish magic.
I'm not quite sure why this was even a theory to be honest. Even back in the day of Dawn, this never really resonated with me because it seems that the only reason this was a theory was Drifter saying "not something I would bargain with" and... Possibly whispers? Obviously a lot of things can whisper, and Ahamkara have been also mentioned doing so, but I don't find this significant to Ahamkara enough for identification just through that. I also don't think that one mention of the word "bargain" is enough either. Many have bargained with Darkness too. There's simply an overlap between Darkness and Ahamkara here, but there are also other pieces that are more closely linked to Darkness like eating Light. We could go even further, if we're considering Ahamkara; we could also consider Worm Gods, for example. The point is that several things can fit here, but I feel like there's overall more things pointing at Darkness.
What gets me the most is that they alluded to this in Season of the Wish, in what seems fairly obvious as disproving this theory to me. Riven and Osiris talk:
Riven: Isn’t it unfortunate your City hunted down all of my kind, Osiris? You might have wished for Saint-14’s return from the Forest. Osiris: And have him trade the Vex’s torment for yours? Riven: Perhaps you simply didn’t want him back badly enough to pay the price. Osiris: Save the bait for someone naïve enough to take it.
I talked about this earlier, but there's several layers of why the moment I heard this, it sounded like it's here to disprove Osiris using an Ahamkara. First, Ahamkara wish magic would be felt by Riven. If Osiris put an Ahamkara into the Sundial, then he did use wish magic and she would know about it. In that case she would not have said this; perhaps she would've teased him about using her powers to save Saint, but that would be a completely different sentence.
Second, Osiris is well aware and wary of wish magic. He knows that had he done so, he would've probably put some form of torment (wish magic backfire) on Saint. This, to me, indicates that not only did he not do this, he didn't even consider it as an option.
Third, if Osiris had an Ahamkara bone and was considering to use it, he could've just done so without building the Sundial. Why bother with the machine if you can just instantly make a wish and the wish doing exactly as you want? Obviously with a caveat, but still. It would've worked right away. Perhaps the Sundial was an attempt to contain the backfire, mixing wish magic with Vex tech to try and prevent the whole thing from going backwards, but even then; Osiris knew there are possible consquences.
And fourth, even if he did all that, it just didn't work, which would be quite uncharacteristic for wish magic. It's paracausal; it should override any Vex tech in the Sundial. If he made a wish, he should ask for a refund! The Sundial worked only because of the paracausal loop we created with the Perfect Paradox and it had nothing to do with anyone's wishes; definitely not ours.
One interesting thing for this theory is the way they said how similar wishing and simulations are. It happened in Wish and now again in Echoes. Here's a freebie for the Ahamkara theory enthusiasts.
Personally though, I simply feel like there's much more connecting and sensible explanation with it being a Darkness relic, rather than Ahamkara.
HOWEVER. The truth is that we simply don't know. I am personally more into it being Darkness (and Nezzy specifically), but I could be wrong and the Ahamkara theory could be proven correct somehow. Hell, it could be something completely different. It could also be nothing; as in, we will never know because they won't tell us because it doesn't matter.
And technically, it doesn't! Nothing really changes if this doesn't get answered. I want that to be clear. This isn't some sort of lore breaking detail. But you know. The nerds would love to know. I really wanted to get into this now that we've had a resurgence in interest about Saint and how we saved him.
Echoes
Okay, so why this monster of an essay? Well, because Echoes revolves around Saint and the Conductor trying to convince him that he's the wrong Saint. That Osiris acted out of grief and pulled a random Saint from the timelines, that he's simply satisfied with what he got because he couldn't get his original Saint because that Saint died.
Saint is convinced in this; that he's some sort of an aberration in the timeline, a simulation or a copy or just the wrong Saint from the wrong timeline. Even an error that must be corrected.
And I simply think that people are too quick to jump to the conclusion that this is the story being told, especially because of the radio message this week where we're shown that Saint and Osiris suddenly have different memories. But I feel like people have already forgotten the other radio message, from week 1. You know, the one where Saint and Osiris talk about their memories and the memories match perfectly:
Saint-14: Osiris. Do you remember when we knew? Osiris: Knew what? Saint-14: That we were meant to be together. There was one moment... though, it took us time to get to it. Oh, but our Hunter Vanguard, so smart, Tallulah... she knew before we did. All our little squabbles and bickering. She saw it first. Osiris: it, uh — ah, well, I was — obtuse. Stubborn. I couldn't recognize my own emotions. Then, Tallulah told me to.. "Be serious". Saint-14: Haha! I remember. So yes, she told me later. Was good laugh. Osiris: Well, I'm glad you found it so amusing. Saint-14: Who could not look back and smile? And I remember your smile, then. So knowing, and so full of our future together. Osiris: What brought these memories on? Saint-14: Hmm. I think about others who will have those same moments now that they know they will a future free from the Black Fleet. Now they have a chance to find love and be happy, like us. We can look behind, but also forward. We cannot see what is coming, but we know it is good. Osiris: You're certain? Saint-14: About us? Yes. Since the beginning. Now, and always.
We have this memory as a lore tab as well. I think this was given to us deliberately, to show us that Saint and Osiris have identical memories and that Saint's memories were never in question and that their history is perfectly aligned... Until he got yoked. Something changed when he got yoked, not when he was saved. This is a new development, which tells me that the Conductor did something to him, rather than Osiris saving the wrong Saint. Because until now, this was never a problem. Saint never had discrepancies in his memories before, with anyone he ever interacted with.
If we take a look at the whole story of how he was returned, it's beyond clear that Osiris was very fixated on saving his Saint, not a random one, and that we went to great lengths to do just that. We only ever interacted with one Saint, the same one, and we linked each other with the Perfect Paradox. It cannot be any other Saint, even with the existence of other timelines. This Saint and this Perfect Paradox are ours, from our timeline, the originals.
However, other timelines do exist. And some entities can access them. The Vex are obviously first on the list. Characters like Elsie and Osiris have also seen them. And clearly, the Conductor should be capable of this as well. It's beyond clear now that the Conductor is Maya Sundaresh. Maya, who was simulated 227 times by the Vex and had those 227 copies of her wandering the Vex network and different timelines.
If the Conductor knows where to look and how, she could see these timelines, including these other Saints, and she could've fed Saint false information while he was yoked. Implanting memories of other Saints perhaps, or something similar.
I know a lot of people weren't there for Dawn, let alone Curse. There's a lot of information about Saint here and a lot of really interesting clues from the past about what's happening now. It's also really interesting how many little details have been transferred through the story over time, showing that this is a plotline they care about very much and want to make sure doesn't get messed up.
There's probably a lot more stuff we could get into for speculation and explanations because there's still more stuff that plays a role in this. The Infinite Forest is a big one, and I suspect the Perfect Paradox is as well, as we're likely to get it next week or the week after as part of the story. Because it should be relevant to the story! It's an inherent part of Saint's story and why he's with us now in the first place.
So what's really going on? We're not entirely sure yet, but assuming that the Conductor is correct and that her messing with Saint is revealing something about Saint's legitimacy is I believe wrong. I think she's using him as an experiment and that she's messing with him, and by extension, with us as well. There's no way that we've had a "wrong" Saint this whole time and that nobody ever had any issues with him. That nobody had any discrepancies between memories with him. Not Osiris, not Ikora, not Shaxx, not Saladin, not Zavala or anyone else Saint interacted with since he's been back. As I mentioned, literally the first radio message shows us Saint and Osiris with matching memories.
It only started after he was yoked. Which means that the yoke and the Conductor did something to him, possibly shown him some other timelines or fed him false information.
Can't wait to see where this is going. I'm not sure how much this Act will cover and if we'll get a resolution to this right now or if it will stretch to Act 3, though if it doesn't get stretched, then I wonder what will the draw of Act 3 even be. Possibly just dealing with the Conductor? I'm very excited. This episode being so focused on Saint and Osiris and the whole throwbacks to Dawn and other past content has been really good. I'm enjoying it very much, this is my entire jam. I had high hopes for Echoes and so far it's been going great.
I'm super excited to see how they solve this and what comes of it and how much of this information will be relevant. And of course, if it will end up being correct! Because as much as I have my theories and as much as I'm convinced that there's something off here and that our Saint cannot be the wrong Saint, I could still be wrong. Looking forward to finding out!
#destiny 2#saint-14#osiris#vex#conductor#long post#lore vibing#i hope that this is also helpful to people!#i genuinely could've gotten into more. there are several unhinged tangents to go into at any point
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To add to "Hakuba wasn't the one throwing the most shade at Hattori," I'm heading into the case itself, since I didn't last time.
Let's start with the fact that Hattori found blood on the doorknob and instantly tried to knock the door down. Hakuba, Junya, and Natsuki all look shocked, Natsuki even saying "Hey, wait a-"
Shinichi's the only one who isn't shown protesting, but he's also not shown actively helping to break down the door. He's right there, yes, but going just by the manga alone, we don't see him in action.
Later on, we get this-
Once Hakuba's said about how the "producer" was still alive, Hattori unties him.
Closely followed by...
First Junya, then Hakuba, saying that he's done things wrong. That he's incompetent.
In fact, Junya says "Even if [Hattori] is a very incompetent detective" while Hakuba says "I'll admit that your actions were unacceptable."
Of the two statements, Junya's is the more offensive to me - there's a difference between "unacceptable actions" and calling someone "incompetent." For instance, Detective Yamamura of the Gunma police is "incompetent" because he barely meets the base criteria to be a police officer, let alone someone in charge of a crime scene. Hattori isn't on that level. His actions were, however, unacceptable.
Moving on, and we see Hakuba point out, in detail, why they should have taken their time.
It's Junya, again, who goes on the offensive, assuming that Hattori was "[eager] to reach the crime scene before anyone else" and "not suited for being a detective." Hakuba says neither of these things. He's judgemental, yes, but he doesn't make things personal.
Funnily enough, Shinichi has a damn good point here. It ISN'T that Hattori is unsuited to being a detective! He is, however, hot-blooded, which does affect how he goes about things.
That isn't a bad thing, all of the time, and if it was, then Shinichi would have been joining the others in criticising Hattori. Thing is, Shinichi knows Hattori, and neither overly defends him (they're kinda right, after all) nor attacks him further (he knows why Hattori is how he is).
Later-
By this point, Hakuba has already seen Hattori acting "rashly" and "not thinking things through" so he feels he has a good reason to make remarks like these.
After that, however, when they do find the person they're after, he's visible from the outside, leaning against the window, bleeding.
This time, it's Hakuba who suggests going back inside and busting the door open, but before he can, Hattori is jumping up to bust through the window.
We're shown him breaking the glass, then unlocking the bolt on the window, in order to get in - unlike the first time, where it's just "bust open, get in."
In other words, we're shown his process.
What's important, to me at least?
Once the investigation gets underway, and now that Junya (rest in fucking pieces, dipshit) is out of the way, Hattori and Hakuba are... able to talk to each other with far more civility.
Sure, there's some checking of "you didn't mess something up again, did you?" but that's a valid question that one of them would ask during any other investigation as well, at some point or other.
That said...
It's only after they've done their preliminary investigation and the actual suspects are mostly out of the way that Hakuba suggests that Hattori be kept away from the crime scenes, since when he's been involved, the crime scene has been messed up, damaged, and... he's basically made a mess of it.
Thing is, this is where it's viable for them to have come to loggerheads with each other!
Hakuba is cool-headed and logical, while Hattori is hot-blooded and emotional.
I've even said before about how they're written as narrative foils to one another, being the rivals and closest male friends of their respective protagonists!
That said... for all that they butt heads here, they're back to collaborating not long after.
And when one of them brings up a point, the other listens. Hakuba doesn't discredit what Hattori's saying just because he's hot-blooded, and Hattori doesn't ignore what Hakuba's saying just because he doesn't like the guy/has bias against him.
On to the finale, and each of our detective protagonists has a different conclusion.
Hattori explains his idea of who the culprit is, only to be cut off by Hakuba, who comes in with his own, in a very disparaging way - "How many more times must you disappoint me," he says, only to be proven wrong and realise that he'd been letting his own bias (that a thief must be the culprit) get in the way of his deductions. Hattori continues with his explanation, which Shinichi tries to say "no, you're wrong!" about... only to prove that he knew exactly what he was doing and catch the real killer trying to hide evidence.
Effectively, this all proves that Hattori is just as good of a detective as any of the rest of them, especially so given the culprit's words at the end:
In other words: those things were done on purpose, knowing what kind of person Hattori is, and she respects him for being the kind of person who hopes that the victim is alive until proven dead. Who hopes for life, more than just another mystery to solve.
In this point here, as well as in assuming that the culprit had to be the same person as the thief, Hakuba is wrong, because he assumed that acting in a "hot-blooded" way was wrong since doing so would disrupt the crime scene.
What he should have been worrying about - and I wonder if this was a minor lesson for him - was "is the person inside still hanging onto life, and if they are, will taking the long route around take too long, and cause them to die?"
So, in these later parts, we do see that:
1 - It isn't even Hakuba, even after Hattori has said things that would legitimately upset him, who throws the first stone in antagonising him.
2 - It's only after seeing behaviour that could be seen as "rash" that Hattori hadn't thought through (unfitting of a detective) that he starts to bite back.
3 - They still work together with respect whenever it's about the actual investigation, and at no point do they get in each other's way, and-
4 - When Hakuba makes a mistake about his deductions, as well as when admitting no one knows where he is, for one thing he accepts his mistakes with grace, and for another thing Hattori doesn't gloat about it.
I wouldn't say that things are mended between them - first impressions count for a lot, and they didn't have a good one no matter how you look at it - but I'd hardly say that they have a non-functioning working relationship, or that they'd constantly be at each other's throats.
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Don’t mind me it’s really late at night and I’m in a bit of a yearning mood… This ended up being more angsty then I intended that’s my bad-
Do you think Lucifer dreams of loving MC? That nearly every night he dreams of holding them in his arms to unwind after a harsh day of work, of soft kisses by candlelight, of inviting them to the music room so they can listen to one of his beloved records and dance together, of sharing hushed moments of a type of vulnerability he can’t remember the last time he felt?
Do you think he wakes up from his dreams too soon to a cold half empty bed and remembers that he’s here all on his own with the human he loves far away and blissfully unaware of his predicament? He gets a harsh reality check when he remembers that despite all his dreams and fantasies he’s still alone simply because he’s too scared to say his true feelings? How ironic, the embodiment of confidence and pride, scared to talk about insignificant emotions. Are they even insignificant though? They certainly don’t feel like it to Lucifer, how trivial…
I want my men YEARNING and CONFLICTED-
(Sorry I answered this late, life has been super hectic and I've been taking a social media break but I'm semi back now! We're battling that burnout!) I LOVE yearning! SO MUCH! Especially when it involves Lucifer because it feels so much more complex and impactful (but I'm probably just biased). So, I hope you don't mind me using this ask as an excuse to do a writing warmup since I haven't done anything creative for a while.
Warning for angst and some hurt/no comfort (I'm sorry!)
A tiny seed, thriving and new, ready to be cultivated. Its creation a mystery. Filled with life, hope, and the promise of a forbidden fruit. And what did he do? Crushed it. Destroyed it as soon as the hint of it reared its ugly head.
At first, he wasn't quite sure what it was. So, foolishly, he allowed it to stay, to plant itself in the recesses of his chest where it could rest safe for a while. Just until he figured out what this anomaly meant. Where did it come from? Why? What was it that kept him up at night and stole his focus from his work?
It wasn't till he and the human had found themselves in a quiet moment alone. All he had done was head to their room to inform them of... He can't even remember the details. Can't even recall if there had been an original purpose in the first place. Lucifer had caught them getting ready for the night, sitting in their bed with a pillow held against their chest as they slouched forward, scrolling through their D.D.D.. Immediately, he found himself giving them a mini-lecture on how being glued to a device right before bed would keep them from sleeping properly. It was their duty to-- the usual gist. In the midst of the lecture, his words caught in his own throat as he noticed them hugging the pillow sleepily- albeit a little annoyed with him- staring at his face with their head tilted off to the side.
The seedling was beginning to sprout.
All the pieces clicked into place, a deafening rattle in his head. The lecture ended unfinished, the details he had wished to share with them ignored. He simply bid them a good night before leaving their room. When he returned to his own space, he examined the sprout that had grown. Gentle, just a weak little thing. Plucked. Ripped from the roots, he pressed the heel of his boot against it and wasn't satisfied till it turned to dust.
Feelings? Affection? And for a human? Unacceptable. It had been a mistake to keep it so close to his heart when he had been unaware of its origins.
And he went about his days like normal, feeling colder than he had in weeks.
It was a sigh of relief really. Keeping a plant like that around would only serve him trouble. It required care and attention he did not have the time to give. It was best for everyone involved to nip it in the bud before it had the chance to bloom. After a few days of settling back into normalcy, he found the courage to approach the human again without the pesky irrationalities attached.
A pain. Stabbing. A random tug in his chest and a grip on his throat. The very sight of them now caused him this new affliction. The plant had propagated, wormed an offshoot in the shadows of his marrow and spread throughout his body like a vile invasive weed. It was choking him. It felt like it was killing him.
He tore. He razed. He dug at it with his very fingertips as the thorns his scorn and bitterness had cultured shredded the skin of his hands.
It would not go away so easily.
Madness began to plague his mind. The more he desperately tried to free himself, the deeper the thing embedded. He couldn't stand at the human's side without imagining the warmth of their hand against his. Couldn't walk past the kitchen without checking if they were in their bedroom. Couldn't listen to his favorite records without imagining slowly rocking back and forth with them, their heads resting against each other. Several nights now, he'd awoken from a dream about them. Typically starting out as nightmares, either swamped with work, inprisioned in isolation, or burnt by betrayal. But before his mind could spiral into darkness in those drowsy tragedies, they would come. Lucifer would always hold them in their arms, his face buried in their hair or their clothes, kissing their cheeks, their hands, their shoulders. It was peace. Bliss.
Until he would wake up.
The loneliness was more torturous than he ever imagined it would be. If this was love, he didn't want it. But he did. Sins alive, he did. He wanted to scream till his lungs burst. He wanted the demon in him to run rampant and rebuild everything in his own perfect image. He begged this plant to sprout the poisoned apple so he could bring it to his lips and drown in its tempting flavor.
And the thought of that terrified him.
But what was he to do? Tell them? No...surely not. He'd already seen some of the ways they looked at him. This plant was already vindictive, tangling around his raw vulnerabilities. If he were to be rejected...he doubted it would die. More than likely, it would fester, ruining him completely.
Lucifer, Pride, the Morningstar, see what he'd been reduced to now. Fearful over telling a human his own thoughts. Losing control over something as simple as a basic juvenile feeling.
Ignoring it was hurting him. Feeding it was anguishing him. No matter what he did, it all resulted in the same endless suffering.
And every day he would wake up, nod curtly towards them at breakfast, and go through the same personal hell all over again.
#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me nightbringer#obey me lucifer#obey me lucifer x mc#angst#hurt/no comfort
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