#i'm sorry but i am going to continue to drag this character's name for the Rest of the show akrbfoshde

[lonepower]

mr guthrie sir I'm sorry but i associate that name with one thing and it is just, so completely not the image I think you're going for

[zayneslady]

summary: it's been a while since the last time you saw him, but you missed him so terribly.

warnings: angst/comfort. Happy endings for the win *sobs* Pt. 2 of these scenarios

characters: Zayne, Rafayel, Xavier x reader (separately)

a/n: I wanted to apologize. I got some comments saying that perhaps I wrote them a bit too ooc and that they wouldn't do something like this, so I was thinking maybe I should step out from writing these; I'm probably not understanding the characters very well. I'm really sorry! I had this one written already, so this is probably going to be the last post I make! Thank you for your support! In only a couple of days you guys were so amazing and loving, I'm super moved and I don't deserve you all at all ❤️

classification: scenarios

tag list: many of you asked me to tag you in the second part, I hope you guys like it! 💕

@biitchyberry @rosaryia @lcheerymotion @mo0nforme

ZAYNE ❄️

It's been four weeks since your argument with Zayne. The first days had been like hell. You had already tasted the honey of a relationship with the person you liked the most and loved the most. You wanted more of him, you needed more. You felt anxious without him, like you had become addicted to his kisses, his gentle touch, and the sweet words he whispered in your ears. You missed him more than you dared to admit.

The days passed slowly, each second seemed to last an eternity. When you got home you felt the emptiness of his presence and you felt like dying, but life continued on, and eventually you got used to being without him. The pain was still present, but more bearable as time kept its course. 

You had stopped frequenting the places you knew he liked for fear of running into him. The dessert shop, the cafe near the hospital, the night stands near the library. You even avoided getting sick so you wouldn't have to go to the hospital. Your life was limited to going to work and coming straight home, with occasional visits to buy groceries. 

You would never have thought that you would have to live a life again without Zayne and only because he didn't know how to separate his friendships from his romantic partner. So smart, but so stupid at the same time. 

You sighed, returning to the present and the food you were making; it was too late when you realized it, but unconsciously you were making one of his favorite dishes. You weren't going to waste the food, so you just carried on trying not to think much about it. 

“Now, where did I put–,” you stopped, surprised by the sudden knocking on your door. You frowned, you were not expecting anyone, but the knocking continued once more and you sighed, turned off the stove. “I'm coming.”

You regretted opening the door. Opening just a crack to see who it was, your heart fluttered in your chest as if there was a small caged bird inside it. Zayne was standing in front of you. He looked ridiculously tired, more than you'd ever seen him. The bags and dark circles under his eyes were deep, his skin did not look radiant and healthy as always and his eyes did not shine like emeralds. 

Your hands were sweating and your insides were churning. "Are you okay?" You asked with a broken voice. Zayne shook his head and he fainted, but with a gasp, you quickly wrapped an arm around his waist and tried to keep him upright. “Zayne! Hey, what's happening?” 

Zayne didn't answer you, and just leaned on you. Not knowing what to do, you dragged him inside and carefully guided him to your room. Once there, you laid him down on your bed, he looked weak. 

“Zayne? Can you hear me? Are you okay?” 

He mumbled your name and your heart raced. “I'm… I am sorry,” he said as he finally passed out. You gasped, but soon heard the soft snores you were so used to. 

Was he that exhausted? And what was he doing at your house? You frowned, fighting back the stinging sensation in your eyes as you tried to hold back some tears. He really always appeared to stir everything inside you. You had already accepted your life without him, but here he was. You sighed heavily, taking off Zayne's shoes and covering him with a blanket.

Your eyes couldn't help but admire him. Even though he was tired, he still looked as handsome as ever. It seemed like a dream, an illusion that would disappear at any moment. You wanted it to happen. You wanted him to disappear, but at the same time, you wanted to take him in your arms and kiss his face. But no, clearing your throat, you grabbed an extra blanket and left the room, closing the door behind you. It was better to let him rest so he could leave as soon as he got up. 

The next morning you woke up to soft steps. Sitting up and whining a little after sleeping on the couch, you saw Zayne coming out from your bedroom. His hair was messy and he was rubbing one of his eyes like a little child, something warm spread across your chest and a smile tried to spread your lips, but you stopped it. He seemed more rested, the bags under his eyes had diminished considerably and his skin looked a little more alive. 

“Zayne.”

He seemed a bit startled as he looked at you with slightly wide eyes. “Hello… I am sorry I fell asleep.” 

You hummed, folding the blanket. “Haven't you been sleeping well?" You didn't want to sound worried, but you were. 

“I haven't… I constantly have nightmares and I've been working over time… a lot more."

“Why?”

“Because I can't stop thinking about you,” he said and despair filled his eyes. “You have no idea how much I've missed you. I can't sleep, I can't eat, I have been working nonstop so I can have my mind occupied, but you're always there, in the back of my head.” 

Don't cry. Don't cry! 

“And what exactly do you want me to do about it, Zayne?” You said coldly, wanting to get over with this. 

Zayne approached you and you couldn't move as he took your hands. “Please, please. Give me another chance. I swear. I swear in my life that I do not have feelings for her. I just… I was just stupid and took you for granted. Please, my love, please.”

Tears began to well up in your eyes and you cried even harder as Zayne grabbed your face. "N-No, don't touch me.”

“Please. How can I show you I truly want you? Do you want me to stop talking to her? I'll do it. I'll do it, so please. Just… please. I can't live without you.” His words sounded sincere.

His eyes were glassy and the pain on his face was evident, but your heart still hurt. How did you know that he really wouldn't leave you as a second option anymore? You couldn't even tell him to stop talking to Miss Hunter, you knew this was just Zayne's fault. 

“Zayne… Zayne you're hurting me so much.”

“I know. I know I am and I am terribly sorry for this. I love you. I truly love you.” 

You also loved him, so much. 

“... If this ever happens again, Zayne… I won't forgive you another time. Remember that.”

His green eyes shone with happiness as he pulled you into a tight hug. You hugged him back, the tips of your fingers tingling as you felt his warmth, the tip of your nose digging into the crook of his neck, you breathed deeply, enjoying his scent. 

“You're on trial, Zayne.”

Zayne chuckled and he nodded. “Yes. You won't regret me, I promise you.”

RAFAYEL 🐠

Life was boring without him. He was the spark and the spice in your days. With him, every day seemed like a small adventure, but now that you no longer saw him, the days seemed dark and lifeless. You didn't even remember how much time had passed since that day. One week? Three days? Two months? You weren't sure and, honestly, you tried not to think about it too much because, even though you missed him, the pang of pain in your heart almost made you gasp for air every single time you recalled every moment with him. It was almost as if his bodyguard had also been there, on every date with Rafayel, for all of your conversations were about her. 

He was full of praise for her. He named each of her virtues and laughed affectionately at her defects. He didn't accept anyone claiming that they were better than her or stronger, because his precious bodyguard was the strongest and the bestest. Just thinking about it made you feel tears filling your eyes. You didn't want to remember any of it, but as you held your phone with your thumb hovering over the dial button, you couldn't stop thinking about how miserable Rafayel made you feel, even when he also made you feel like the most loved person in the world. 

When he didn't have his mouth full of his wonderful bodyguard, Rafayel showered you with affection. His kisses, his hugs, and his caresses all felt full of love and tenderness. His beautiful eyes looked at you sweetly, as if you were the most precious thing that ever existed on earth. He liked to tease you and make you laugh and he always said that you were like a muse for all his paintings: The sparkle in your eyes, the color of your hair, the texture of your skin, the curves of your body, everything was inspiration.

How could he be so cruel and loving all at the same time? Poor bodyguard, you even didn't like her although she hadn't done anything wrong, as far as you knew. 

Sighing, you finally tapped on the green button and your heart raced faster and faster at every beep coming from the other side of the line. Would he answer you? Was he… with her? Was he busy with one of his paintings? What if- 

His voice calling your name surprised you, making you jump. “I’m here! Hi!” he sounded out of breath and your cheeks blushed. “Hmm, h-how are you d-doing?” 

“Rafayel…,” you took a deep breath. “I… have some clothes at your place. Could I stop by later to get them?” 

“YES! I… I mean��� yes. I'll- I'll be here all day. You can stop by at any time you want.”

“... Right. Then, see you there, Rafayel.” 

You let out a long sigh after hanging up. You had forgotten how wonderful his voice was and the way he pronounced your name. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach. You were going to see him, you were really going to come again, but you shouldn't be excited. What if he and his bodyguard were dating? The thought made your stomach twist and you decided it was best to leave immediately. The quicker you finish this, the better. 

As always, the door was open, but you didn't immediately enter, your hands were shaking and your heart was racing against your ribcage. You didn't want to see him.

Taking a deep breath, you gently pushed the door open and you were greeted with that aroma that you had missed so much. The smell of acrylic paint, the sea and Rafayel's scent. You couldn't help but take a long breath- this exquisite smell felt like home. Your eyes watered a little, but you tried to stay calm as you walked deeper into the spacious house.

“R-Rafayel? Are you here? "You heard a gasp from the room and in a second, Rafayel appeared in front of you. Ah, he looked as wonderful and beautiful as always. His gorgeous eyes were wide, looking you up and down as his mouth stretched into a shy smile. You wanted to hug him. “The door… was open so I just- I'm sorry.”

“No! That's okay! I… I left it open for you!” 

You nodded. “I see… do you mind if I just…”

“No, go ahead, please.” You excuse yourself as you made your way to his room, as you passed by him you felt your legs tremble and you gasped in surprise when he suddenly took your hand.

“Rafayel, what-

“Please, forgive me,” he begged, his eyebrows furrowed in a painful expression. “I was absolutely wrong, you were so right. I was stupid and careless and hurt you so badly.”

“Rafayel… I just came for my clothing, let me g-

“Please!” He hugged you and you went stiff. “Please, please,” he sobbed in your ear. 

“Are you crying?” 

He nodded. “I can't live another second without you. I can't paint anymore. I feel like a piece of me has been taken away, I live half and barely. I really, really do not have feelings for my bodyguard. You're the only one I can think about.”

“Then why- 

“I just… I was just stupid, I didn't mean anything to hurt you, I swear! When I said I missed her, what I wanted to say is that I wanted to train with her, I would never make you train, that's too dangerous,” he started to explain in a rush. “When I told you about the candies, it's because she gave me some amazing chocolate I wanted to gift you and then-

“Rafayel-

“Please. Just this once, I swear,” he said, finally showing his reddened face, tears streaming down his face. You gulped, reaching up to clean his tears away and he whined. “I wasn't there to wipe your tears, I am so sorry.” 

That made you burst into tears. That's right, you really wanted him to wipe your tears. He gently cupped your cheeks and his thumbs brushed against your cheeks, catching all of those tears falling from your pretty eyes. 

“You can break up with me if I do something like that again! But please… just this once. I love you so much. I really do.” 

You looked at him, His eyes were still wet and some tears were still falling down his cheeks. Maybe…

“Just this once, Rafayel… I won't forgive anything like this ever again.” He beamed and leaned down to capture your lips in a kiss, but you covered his mouth, frowning slightly. “I'm still mad at you.”

He blinked and gently smiled behind your hand before taking it in his. “Of course, I'll prove myself to you, beautiful creation.” 

XAVIER ⭐

You couldn't sleep. It's been two weeks since you last slept properly. Two weeks ago you were in Xavier's arms and he held you lovingly, whispering words of comfort in your ears. You weren't sure why, but being around Xavier always made you feel relaxed, a little sleepy, but never bored. You loved spending lazy times with him, taking naps and frolicking in bed, giggling like fools and giving each other soft, tender kisses. 

With his warmth and love it was not difficult to fall asleep at night, he always wanted to sleep so that tranquility that emanated from him was enough to relax you and make you sleep throughout the whole night. In the mornings you felt rejuvenated and full of life and seeing his sleepy smile was like living in a dream. 

You felt your bottom lip quiver into a pout. You missed him too much. You never thought he would behave that way. Had you never really been important to him? If he wanted to be with his partner so much, why had he even agreed to go out with you in the first place? 

“Agh! I hate you Xavier!” You cried, banging your fists against the table in your kitchen. “Why did you let me fall in love with you?” Maybe you really had gone crazy, talking to the table like that. 

There was no time for this. It was almost dark and you still needed to go buy some groceries for your dinner. You struggled out of your house, so tired and dragging your feet. You wanted to sleep... with Xavier. You wanted to feel his warmth. But... what if he now wrapped his partner in his arms? Your cheeks turned red and, trying to avoid thinking about it, you hurried to catch the bus. 

You found a seat near the door and next to a young man, there weren't as many people as you imagined and as the bus started to go you felt your eyes heavy. Maybe... you could sleep for a few minutes? The store wasn't far away, so just a few minutes... just a couple of minutes… 

You heard your name being called between clouds. From far away. Over and over and over. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. 

“Hmm?” You opened your eyes and gasped, How long had it been?! Where were you? And... why was your head...? Had you fallen asleep on someone's shoulder?! "Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" You said, raising your head only to find that the young man next to you... "Xavier?!" 

The hunter blinked, his eyes avoided yours for a second before looking directly at you and nodding a small greeting. Had he been there next to you the whole time? You could barely notice what was happening around you with how tired you were, but, strangely, you felt very good. It seemed like he really was the cure for all your ills. You chuckled softly, shaking your head. Xavier looked at you confused, tilting his head to the side like a little bird. 

“I'm sorry, Xavier. I didn't know you were there,” you jumped, “but wait, where are we?!” Checking outside the window, you could tell you were far away from the store now. 

“We're almost at my place,” he said gently and the alarms in your head set off. His partner... didn't she live in the apartment below?! Oh no. Before, you had no problem staying at Xavier's house, but... if they were really in a relationship…

“I gotta go,” you said, seeing the next bus station. It was already dark outside.

“Where are you going?” Xavier asked and you frowned.

“What do you mean? Back home. I only wanted to go to the store, but I fell asleep as you could see… Now it's even dark. Thankfully it's not raining,” you were babbling to yourself as you waited to arrive at the next stop, when you finally did, you got up. “Sorry about that, Xavier. Goodnight.” 

"Now... The next bus…," you mumbled checking the bus's schedule. "10 minutes? Lucky~"

“I'll go with you.” 

You couldn't help but squeal and jump when you heard his voice right behind you. Turning around, you saw him standing there, as tall as he was and as bright as the stars. 

“I'll take you home. It's dark. Something could happen.”

You rolled your eyes. "What could happen, I'm only going home.” 

“Some witnesses have seen wanderers in the area. I can't let you go alone." 

You sat on the bench, arms crossed, Xavier sitting next to you. "Ah, that's true. I'm not strong like your... Forget it." Your cheeks turned red. Very well! Keep opening your big mouth! Xavier didn't say anything, but you could feel his gaze on you and the blush on your cheeks traveled to the tips of your ears. 

Silence reigned between you. You could feel him, his warmth, he was so close to you, you could reach out and touch his knee. Your eyes felt heavy, you wanted to hug him. 

“I am sorry,” he suddenly said and you thought you imagined it but then he repeated it. “I am sorry for what I said the other day.” You turned to look at him and flinched when he saw his bright eyes looking sad and red. “I don't know what I was thinking. Talking like that in front of my girlfriend. Acting like I didn't want to have been there with you, but you're the only person I want close to me. I don't like nor have feelings for my coworker, I only want and need you.” 

He gently wiped a tear from your rosy cheek, his touch was electrifying. 

“You haven't been sleeping well.” You didn't answer, but he continued. “I haven't been able to sleep either. I keep recalling that day and seeing your crying face, I can't stand it… please forgive me.” 

He took your hands and you finally looked up at him, your eyes widening as you saw a small tear fall down his cheek. 

“I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I still beg you, I beg you to give me another chance. I promise I'll do better. Something like this will never happen again. I was an idiot." 

You frowned, “you were an idiot. Do you have any idea how you made me feel? It's hard to believe you love me.” 

He nodded, listening to you carefully. “I know it's hard to believe, but please let me prove it to you, let me show you how much I love you, please. I can't be without you anymore, my star. I need you, otherwise I'll go crazy. Please.” 

You sobbed and Xavier gently pulled you close to him. Wrapping you between his warm arms. You tried to pull away, but he didn't let you and soon you melted in his embrace, crying into his work clothes. 

“Please, give me another chance.” 

You nodded softly. Just one more chance. “There's not gonna be a second time,” you warned between sobs and he chuckled, kissing the top of your head. 

“I won't need them. I will treasure you as the most valuable thing that you are. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” 

[brickmvster]

please don't go (i'll eat you whole) | Leon Kennedy x Reader

synopsis: You make love to Leon before he leaves you.

word count: 1,906

warnings/tags: leon kennedy x fem reader, established relationship, smut with feelings, angst, pre-spain or just pre-mission in general, some light fluff if you squint kinda (i'm sorry), p in v sex/penetrative sex, unprotected sex, aftercare

author's note: i'm gonna be honest. i am a little nervous. more so than usual bc this is my first time writing for leon! i love him so much, he's definitely one of my comfort characters, and i wanted to write something angsty but also kinda bittersweet like this for a loooong time and i finally got around to it. i really hope you guys enjoy, comments are always appreciated <3 this has been proofread more than once, but just in case, any and all mistakes are mine! also, just fyi, i wrote this with re4r leon in mind, but you can imagine whichever leon floats your boat if you really want to lol.

p.s. it's not written in here but pls pee after sex 😭

minors do not interact, please and thank you!

You clung to him for dear life; as if he was going to disappear in front of your very eyes.

You were above him, peering down into his deep eyes. His eyebrows were knitted together in pleasure and his lips, which were currently rosy and swollen after the frequent kisses you had given them, were ever so slightly parted as soft groans emerged from his throat. His large hands never stayed still for longer than a minute – he gripped your waist before sliding them down to your ass, kneading the soft flesh before moving them up toward your breasts, squeezing gently, before bringing them back to your waist, where he helped with guiding your languid movements. You moved your hips like an expert, riding him as if you’d never have the chance to again.

With the rain pattering against the window and a sliver of moonlight filtering through the room, it was almost like a scene from an erotic novel. The room carried the scent of sweat and sex and was filled with the noises that spilled from your lips non-stop. You didn’t even know how much time had passed – but you knew it was late. You knew Leon had to be up in the morning. But you wanted to prolong this moment with him for as long as possible. Leon wanted to as well, as every time he got you close to your peak, he slowed down, dragging out your orgasm in a way that was almost painful, but you enjoyed every second of it.

You were growing tired, your legs beginning to shake as your rhythm became a bit off-kilter.

“Leon…” You moaned, his name coming out so softly it almost wasn’t audible. But Leon, ever so attentive, heard you loud and clear, and he knew what you were trying to tell him.

He flipped you over with ease, while he was still inside of you, spreading your legs further apart and starting up a steady pace. All you could do was grip the bed sheets, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he drilled into that spot that made you see stars. He wasn’t aggressive or rough, but his thrusts were certainly hard-hitting and relentless, and you knew you only had a few minutes.

At some point, you closed your eyes as you tried to focus on your impending orgasm, feeling as if you were in a complete haze – but Leon’s voice pierced through your foggy mind.

“Please look at me.” He said, his low voice sounding a bit strained and even a little desperate; who were you to deny him of what he wanted?

It took a momentous amount of effort, but eventually you were able to open your eyes and keep them open, looking up at him. Leon lowered himself a little, allowing you to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. The slightly different position made his thrusts feel even deeper, and you cried out into his neck, your fingers going into his shaggy blonde hair.

“Keep looking at me. Please.” He said softly, and so you did, maintaining eye contact with him the best you could as he continued to piston his hips into you. Suddenly, Leon was becoming blurry; you could feel the wetness on your face as tears began to fall. Leon often made you cry during sex – he was a fucking god in bed after all and usually made you feel so good that he’d leave you sobbing from the intense pleasure after multiple orgasms. And while that was definitely the reason you were crying now, you also knew that there was an underlying reason for your tears. Leon knew the other reason, too.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” He asked you sweetly, still keeping up his quick pace. All you could do was nod fervently, digging your nails into his back. He always loved when you did that.

“Yeah? My sweetheart is gonna cum for me?” He urged, and the pet name that rolled off of his tongue only made matters worse.

“Fuck, Leon–please, give it to me.” You said, your voice trembling. You felt all of the telltale signs. There was a tight coil forming in your lower stomach, ready to pop like a balloon. Leon could sense this, could hear it in your voice and could feel it in the way your pussy was squeezing around his cock. He raised himself just a bit, lowering his hand down between your legs, using his thumb to rub your clit in circular motions while he continued thrusting.

Leon’s name emerged from your throat so loudly that you even drowned out the rain. Your eyes squeezed shut, your back rising off the bed in a beautiful arch, your climax hitting you in waves. You felt like you were in heaven, the tears falling even more freely from your eyes now. Leon just ogled at you like you were a work of art. In his mind, you were.

He was also close, and mere seconds after your orgasm his own came crashing down on him too. With a few more sloppy thrusts he found himself stilling inside of you, his release filling you to the brim. The feeling of being so full of him was one that you would never grow tired of.

Eventually, you came down from your peak, your limbs feeling like heavyweights. All you could do was lay there and cry some more, letting every single emotion overtake you completely, your sobs shaking your entire body. Leon was comforting you in an instant, pulling out gently and lying next to you, allowing you to bury your head into his chest. The two of you laid like that for several minutes, with Leon cradling your head and rubbing your back.

You did calm down after some time passed, and that’s when Leon tried to get up, but you clung to him again.

“Please don’t go.” You said, your voice small and hoarse. “Don’t go, Leon, please.”

“I just wanna clean you up, okay?” Leon replied, wiping away the wetness on your cheeks. You didn’t even care that his cum was leaking out of you and making your thighs a mess – you just wanted him to stay by your side. But you knew he was just trying to take care of you, so you reluctantly released him.

Leon kissed your cheek before getting off the bed and going to the bathroom. While you waited for him, you tried to keep your eyes open. You didn’t want to sleep, because falling asleep meant that morning would come quicker, and truthfully you didn’t want the morning to come at all. You knew it would be coming no matter what, though – but goddamn it, you tried to prolong it the best you could, even when your eyelids were growing heavier by the second.

Leon came back, now clothed in his boxers (that you didn’t even notice he had thrown back on), a small washcloth in hand, and a glass of water that he set on the bedside table. He pushed your legs apart yet again and wiped you clean, touching you so gently as if you were some kind of porcelain doll. It only made your heart grow fonder. You were going to miss these moments of tenderness.

He made you sit up, just enough so you could drink the water that he had prepared for you. You took a small sip, to which Leon encouraged you to “drink a bit more, sweetheart,” so you did, and when he was pleased, the glass returned to its spot on the bedside table, and shortly after he was crawling underneath the comforter with you.

The warmth of the comforter and Leon’s body next to yours made it even more difficult for you to stay awake. Leon saw you struggling, catching the way you would doze off and then immediately wake yourself back up.

“Please, rest.” He muttered into your hair. You hugged him tighter.

“Do you have to go?” You asked him, even though you knew the answer.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” Was all Leon could say in response.

You felt a lonely tear roll down your cheek yet again. But you were far too exhausted to cry some more. Instead, you sat up, looking at Leon intently. He returned your direct eye contact, sitting up himself to lean against the headboard and match your height.

“Promise me,” You started, holding out your hand. Without hesitation, Leon held it, locking your fingers together and giving your hand a slight squeeze.

“Promise me you’ll come back home.” You asked him, like you always did before he left for a mission. Every single time, he would give you the same answer.

“I promise.” He replied firmly. You knew deep down that asking Leon to make promises like this was unrealistic. He never fully understood what he was getting himself into until he arrived at the mission location – and you knew that despite his skills as a trained government agent, accidents always happened, and there was no way to know when things would go awry when he’s out in the middle of nowhere. But hearing him utter those two words before he left eased your worries just enough.

Trusting Leon was always easy.

“I love you.” You said softly, fitting back into Leon’s side perfectly, like you belonged there.

“I know, sweetheart. I know.” Leon replied, before tilting your chin up with two gentle fingers and kissing you with a fiery passion. You two lazily kissed each other until sleep started pulling you into its dark embrace. You didn’t fight it this time, resting your head on Leon’s chest and drifting away to the sound of his steady heartbeat.

The next morning, the two of you shared one last breakfast. You mostly sat in comfortable silence. You asked a couple questions about the mission, but didn’t get straight answers – it was confidential. You knew that already but always liked to ask questions anyway.

Right as Leon was about to walk out of your door, you stopped him. You took a few moments just to stare at him – he was as handsome as the day you fell in love with him.

You brushed some hair out of his face, kissing him slowly, savoring the feeling of his lips on yours for these last few minutes. When you pulled away, you were sporting a warm smile, feeling your eyes sting as tears threatened to spill. You kept them at bay.

“Don’t you dare–” You paused, your trembling lips making it difficult to speak. When you collected yourself, breathing in and out, you continued.

“Don’t you dare ruin this jacket. I love it on you.” You said, referring to the brown leather jacket that Leon had bought himself recently and was currently wearing. He had a tendency to ruin clothing items on his missions, and you hoped this one would survive.

Leon chuckled. The sound immediately filled you with warmth. You were going to miss that sound; God knows how long you’d have to go without hearing it everyday.

“Copy that.” Leon replied, a laugh bubbling out of your throat.

You shared one more embrace. The final hug was one the both of had trouble ending. But it had to come to an end eventually.

And then, Leon was gone. All that was left was a memory.

[creamyavocadosoup]

𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞

a/n: lowercase intended! been in an anime binge lately and am currently watching horimiya. its great honestly, it makes me feel so mushy bc me when !! but also i can kinda relate. sorry this wasnt proofread! if there are any mistakes lmk ;-;

characters: rtte!hiccup x fem!reader

tags: kinda angsty, unrequited (?) pining, intimate touches and moment (nothing nsfw)

word count: 1.5k

if you missed it, here's part one: can i be her?

the road to recovery was slow, and the mending of hiccup and i's relationship even slower. although i had forgiven him, there was an undeniable shift in how i acted towards him, whether it was intentional or not.

i had felt guilty about it, of course, but i couldn't force myself to go back to the way things were and pretend nothing had happened. even more so when i could tell that hiccup and the other riders picked up on it too.

after that incident however, something else had also changed. as subtle as it was (or tried to be), hiccup had begun doing things out of his own volition. small things like the soil in my garden being damp when i wake up, my medicine cabinets tidied and arranged how i liked it after a nap, or even my hut being spick and span, a still-hot plate of food awaiting me on my bedside table when i wake up.

it was strange to be on the receiving end of such actions. i had gotten used to helping the riders more than i had received it in return. so having hiccup do so much for me just because, induced emotions in me that i'm still quite unsure in how to handle.

today was spent patching up the riders after a grueling training session and a few accidents (mostly snotlout) and we make conversation as they tell me the new things they've discovered when they went adventuring a few days ago.

my huge cut had - thankfully - been steadily healing, the riders taking turns in making sure i wasn't doing tasks i wasn't supposed to. a few weeks since the incident and i could finally start walking around my hut with much, much caution.

taking this opportune moment of reprieve, i'm currently sat at my front porch, admiring the view of the sea and horizon off in the distance. i sipped quietly on my drink while wrapped in a blanket, the birds chirping and soft swaying of the trees my only company.

...that is until strong gusts of wind caused by a familiar midnight black dragon landed on my front yard, along with his ever-familiar rider in tow.

"[name]! i come bearing new entries to my journal, along with snacks of course."

right. ever since my injury, hiccup had made it some sort of tradition to come and talk to me about things he discovered while out on adventures or simply reading up and researching on subjects he thinks would interest me.

he reasoned it as him hoping i wouldn't feel too lonely even though the other riders visiting routinely (which i soon figured out was coordinated by hiccup thanks to a slip of the tongue from tuffnut) had given me plenty of company since then.

hiccup took his seat beside me on the porch swing, making himself comfortable. offering the other half of my blanket and he takes it with a smile, scooting closer to me.

initially, i seemingly wasn't quite receptive of this tradition he had started; lack of responses, barely any indication that i was interested in whatever he was talking about. but the dragon rider hadn't exactly let it affect him whatsoever. he continued coming regularly, and talking enough for the both of us.

"hiccup." i spoke, softly and quite mellow, but it had stopped his rant completely as he turned to look at me.

i raised my head to look back at him, my eyes slowly dragging over his features. sweat beaded faintly across his brows as he also searched my face of any indication of emotion. he gulped, the action quite apparent, "yes?"

"are you doing all this because you feel guilty?" i questioned, my voice devoid of any accusatory tone, yet it made him flinch slightly in his seat. "if you are, then you shouldn't be, because i already forgive you."

he pursed his lips and brows furrowed as he continued to keep his eyes on me, clearly displeased despite my words. i felt a warmth slowly settle on my hand, looking down to find his hand grabbing onto mine.

my heart beat quickened, a soft yet steady heat creeping up onto my cheeks. for a moment, it had felt like we were suspended in time, the universe letting us have this moment that we've needed.

"even if you have forgiven me," he paused, his body turning to me and gripping my hand tighter, "i can't." he whispered, a soft tremble in his voice as i watched his eyes gloss over.

"i'm sorry. i'm so sorry." he almost weeps, his voice crackly and tears turning his eyes glossy. "i shouldn't have talked to you like that. been so - so caught up in my emotion that i just had zero regard for how you were feeling to how i was saying it." his voice shakes slightly, and my heart crumpled at the emotion.

gently setting aside my drink, i reached to hold his hands with both of mine, softly rubbing my thumb along the natural contours of the back of it. my throat felt tight, that same burning feeling in my eyes coming back, but i steeled myself and my voice to be able to say what i needed to.

"hiccup.. i understand, i really do." my voice had felt so fragile, like glass, about to break if more pressure is applied to it. "in the time i've spent by myself these past few weeks, i've come to a certain understanding and acceptance to the situation. and it's okay," i squeezed his hands, "i'm okay."

he subtly shakes his head no, one of his hands breaking free from mine and drifting to my wounded abdomen, past the hem and underneath my shirt. hiccup was quiet but his touch spoke more than his words tried to convey. my breath hitched at the action as he continued with his ministrations, yet his expression more spaced-out. i'm not sure what it was exactly, but i could tell he was heavily contemplating something in his head.

despite the gauze barrier, i could feel the heat of him emanating through it. it allowed that familiar warmth to bloom in my chest once again, the same warmth that only he seems to be the cause of. it had felt entirely too intimate to consider it as something friends do which only raised so many more questions and confusion in my head.

this wasn't normal for friends, right? is this something he normally does with the others?

i gulped down the lump in my throat, the thought of him doing the same thing to a certain blonde-haired viking setting an uncomfortable feeling in my gut.

before i could voice out any of my thoughts however, my eyes widened and cheeks warmed considerably once i felt his touch travel to my cheek. it was soft, almost feather-like, and comforting. his eyes glowed beautifully, the orange sunset reflecting onto his green eyes, effectively enchanting me with how beautiful it looked.

he kept his eyes on me, seemingly waiting on a sign on how i felt about the current predicament. seeing no protests from me, he continued on, now essentially cupping my face with both of his hands, his piercing eyes never leaving my face, flitting between my eyes and lips.

"hiccup..."

"hiccup!" a familiar voice cut through the silence and the trees, dispelling the intimate moment in an instant. i hurriedly moved away from his clutches, picking up my forgotten drink, as hiccup nervously fixes his hair and clothes.

astrid appears on the path in front of my hut, lax features and usual demeanor indicating that she didn't see whatever just happened between hiccup and i. "there you are. figured you would be here." she spoke, walking closer towards my porch.

hiccup laughed, notably a little more breathless than when he normally is, yet astrid doesn't bat an eye or pick up on it. admittedly, i spaced out as she rambled on, the scene before still playing over and over in my head.

hiccup's soft touches was still practically branded onto my skin, with how i could still feel the heat of his touch despite him being on the other side of the seat we were on. his actions had only made me more confused, swirling thoughts trying to reason why he did what he did yet none of them made sense.

what was that? was he...

i shook away the thoughts as i come back to consciousness back in time. "[name], i hope you don't mind that i'll be taking this guy with me for a little bit. i need his help on a few things regarding training." she spoke.

i nodded, plastering a small smile on my face but i turn to look at hiccup, silently torn on wanting him to go or letting him leave. his gaze was on me, searching my face but perhaps my features weren't translating my desire well, because he turns to astrid and smiles, "we can go, we were just finishing up anyways."

my heart cracks just a tiny bit, that same feeling that i felt a few weeks ago leaking through the cracks of my resolve little by little. but i force the smile back on my face, standing up to bring my drink back inside, the atmosphere now leaving a bad taste in my mouth.

they gather their things and leave side-by-side, and i also turn and huddle back into my hut, missing the longing look hiccup held to my disappearing figure.

DO NOT REPOST MY CONTENT ANYWHERE! i would love to hear any and all thoughts. mwah! have a great day!

quick access to my library.

[thewritergremlin-rae]

Mirror, Mirror, On the Wall - Who's the Most Alien of Them All?

Pairing: Loki x Reader Characters: Loki, Thor, Brock Rumlow, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Frigga, Heimdall Rating: T Words: 3229 Content: 2nd person, kidnapping, chloroform, manipulation, soulmate AU, Hydra!SHIELD at work, set during/post Avengers 1 Summary: You'd never thought there was anything strange about your soulmate in the mirror, apart from how handsome he was, but as fate would have it - he's trying to invade New York. Ao3: HERE Notes: I am an absolute sucker for Soulmate AUs so here we are! I'm thinking of using this same AU for some others (Bucky and Steve) but I'm not sure if it'll be in same universe

In this AU, you see your soulmates face as your own reflection~ THIS IS A REPOST OF MY OWN WORK I accidentally deleted the original post so the read more doesn't work on my own blog 😭

Banners by cafekitsune

Something considered normal would rarely be considered wrong. 

So, registering your soulmate’s image via looking in a mirror at 18 and having a photo snapped had never worried you.

Everyone did it.

It was normal.

It was safe. 

It was how most people found their soulmates, and even then some just didn’t.

This early spring day started as every day usually did. You got up and ready for work, took public transport to the office, and logged in at 9 a.m. 

Lunch came and went, spent with the coworkers you got along with best, all venting about the small annoyances of the morning. You all returned to the office and the afternoon crawled by.

Last minute, your boss asked you to finish a report now rather than tomorrow morning and you waved goodbye to your co-workers with a shrug and a put-upon smile. They’d all been in your position at one time or another. No-one found it strange.

The report dragged on for a few hours and you had no idea why it couldn’t wait until tomorrow, but your boss was hardly known for his patience. He at least had the decency to stay behind too. 

You sighed and printed a quick copy before knocking on the door to your boss’s office. 

He called out and told you to come in, taking the report when you handed it over. His eyes barely scanned it before he spoke again; “Hey, I know it’s late, but we have a visitor in the conference room. Go keep them company, will you? It will just take a couple of minutes.” 

You bit back the sigh and the roll of your eyes, knowing both could lose you your job. Stupid, tight ass boss. “No problem, boss,” were the words that came out of your mouth, a false smile before you turned and left - heading to the conference room.

You took the liberty of rolling your eyes hard before you plastered the smile back on and pushed the door open. “Hello.” You stepped into the room and held out your hand as you gave your name. “Mr. Dickson is sorry to keep you waiting, but how can I help you?” 

Not the normal sort of client, if a client he was. Most clients showed up in suits or some sort of business attire, but this man wore a black T-shirt, combats, and a jacket certainly not of the suit kind. 

“Brock Rumlow.” He smirked over at you and you saw the way his eyes gave you a once over. Slowly. Urgh. Double ugh when he continued with; “No problem at all, sweetheart. Don’t suppose you could get me a coffee?”  He nodded over to the machine as he eased back into his seat. 

“Of course, sir,” you answered with a smile.

“Feel free to grab yourself one, too. Your boss sent you in here to keep me company, huh?” 

“Something like that, Mr. Rumlow.” The pot only needed warming before you poured two cups and offered him one, taking a seat opposite the man.

“I hope he doesn’t make you stay this late all the time, I hate it when my boss makes me work overtime.” He snorted and rolled his eyes as he took a sip of his coffee. “Do this, do that, clean up some mess, collect an alien’s soulmate, kill that politician, clean up more mess. Not a day’s rest I tell ya.” 

You nodded politely, staring down at your cup as you fully processed his words. Aliens, soulmates… killing politicians? You didn’t know which was the most out there. “I-’m sorry I’m not sure I follow…” 

He only looked more delighted at your confusion and the way your body had stiffened. “Well, you see, sweetheart, there’s this guy, Loki, who showed up outta nowhere and, see, he talks a big game about taking over the Earth and we figured, seeing as you’re his soulmate, that he might rethink those big ideas if we offer you up instead.” Brock shrugged as if this was just casual conversation and didn’t have you frozen in your seat. “’Course, if that doesn’t work, maybe threatening to harm ya will change his tune. But what do I know about aliens? I’m just part of the STRIKE team.” 

Brock smiled, as though he hadn’t just threatened you or spouted what sounded like absolute bullshit. A beat passed as you stared into the cup in your hands, eyes unseeing. “So why don’t we-” 

He growled angrily as you threw the coffee and the cup containing it at him and jolted to your feet, running for the door, pulling it open-

Your short-lived escape attempt ended when another similarly dressed and built man stepped into view. His hands clamped down on your arms and the panic really set in as you protested and tried to escape. “Let me go!” You kicked and thrashed, hoping the noise might cause your boss to call the cops, but that small slice of hope was soon ripped from you. He appeared from his office, face like thunder. 

“You said this would be quick, hurry up before someone hears this racket.” 

Brock huffed from behind you, fingers sliding into your hair and tugging hard to drag your head back. “We coulda done this the nice way, bitch, but that’s off the table.” He pressed a cloth to your mouth, harder than necessary.

The thought of not breathing hadn’t even crossed your mind before the fumes entered your body and you soon slumped into unconsciousness.

You woke already knowing you weren’t at home. Everything felt off and you hadn’t even opened your eyes yet as you laid on what felt like a bed. You took a shallow breath, trying to remember, but everything before falling asleep stayed fuzzy at the edges. 

You had been to work and… right, your boss had made you stay late and there had been coffee and…

Your eyes snapped open but so far it seemed like you were alone. The edge of the bed wasn’t far from the wall and you hesitated before rolling over. Good. No-one there either and this side of the wall had windows.

You shuffled over to them, eyebrows furrowing at their size. Small and curved at the edges. you slid the blind up to be met with the sight of clouds and uninterrupted sky. 

You scrambled to the edge of the bed and the one door that led in and out of the room. “Hey! Hey!” you yelled, banging on the door, fear skittering through you. How long ago had last night been? What time was it now? Where were you now?

“Quit ya banging!” A stern thump that made the door rattle had you stumbling back and falling down to sit on the edge of the bed. “We’re nearly there, no need to get your panties in a twist, bitch.” It sounded like the man you’d met in the office… Brock if you remembered correctly.

He’d certainly changed his tune, but you had thrown coffee at him. Bastard deserved it. 

“Where are we going?!” You had no idea if he would answer, if anyone would. Did it even really matter?

You were to be offered up as some consolation prize to an alien invader in the hopes he might go away. 

You weren’t convinced of the plan; who would change their plans for the mere idea and appearance of their soulmate. You probably wouldn’t if you were in Loki’s position. 

“New York,” came the answer before you heard footsteps leave the door. 

You sank to the bed and flopped back on it, unsure what to do with yourself or for the rest of the flight.

You sat in what had to be some kind of interrogation room, a bit rich considering these guys had kidnapped you. A window made up much of the wall in front of you; the blank expanse of glass left you with nothing to look at but the reflection of your soulmate. It hadn’t changed for several years, but you’d noticed recently his hair had grown longer and it didn’t seem as well kept as before.

The sharp lines of his face had always left you flustered, but now they left you worried at the gaunt paleness that clung to him. What had happened? You couldn’t possibly know, you didn’t even know his name. Well, you hadn’t.

Loki. An alien. An invader. 

You continued to sit silently in the chair, not knowing that an agent and your soulmate’s brother were busy deciding your fate.

“Father will not be pleased. Midgardians are not welcome to our realm and Loki is likely to remain in prison the remainder of her short life.” Thor spoke calmly but firmly. “Besides which, you tell me she is dangerous? A criminal? Why should Asgard take a criminal of Midgard to the golden realm? I do not think our prison is the best place to introduce them.” Thor couldn’t be certain, but he doubted the two would get along from what SHIELD had told him. 

His brother would likely perceive another criminal as a threat or he would keep his guard up. Loki was not one for letting people in so easily. Especially not now. Whether she deserved kindness or not, he doubted Loki would afford her any.

“What if your brother wants to bring her?” 

Thor’s eyes narrowed, giving the agent a sidelong glance. Hardly normal to accept a prisoner’s request… but he did love his brother fiercely - despite his recent tricks. “If,” Thor stressed, “Loki wants to bring her… I may agree,” Thor conceded. But he doubted such a thing would happen. “I will speak with him.” 

Neither you or Thor knew the thin thread by which your fate hung.

The car rumbled through central park, you seated in the back wearing handcuffs and some gag like thing over your mouth that stopped you speaking. You still wore the bright orange scrubs and white shirt as though they’d plucked you from a prison somewhere.

You were free of Rumlow at least, you didn’t even know if the agent driving knew that you hadn’t been picked up from a penitentiary. This new one aligned more with what you imagined an ‘agent’ to be. Black suit, white shirt, sunglasses. Very Men In Black, which, ironic, since you were about to meet two aliens. 

The car came to a stop and you looked out at the people milling around. You only recognised two for sure - one of them being your soulmate. Tony Stark confused you, for a moment, before you recalled his shift into heroism the last few years. 

An equally tall, blond man held your soulmate's arm just above his elbow, so you had to assume this was the brother you’d heard murmurs about. 

Your car door opened and a hand grabbed similarly below your elbow to help you out. Curious eyes turned on you and all you could do was silently, desperately, plead for someone to step in. Someone to take the gag off. You just needed one of them to be curious. 

“Er… I don’t remember any plus ones going out to this little party.” Tony Stark gave the agent at your side a look over the top of his sunglasses, his gaze briefly sliding to you. 

“She’s Loki’s soulmate,” the agent replied, no judgement but not much other emotion in his voice. He turned and marched you towards the pair of aliens. 

“Now, hang on a minute.” A different voice objecting this time and you craned your head behind you to see a blond dressed in a check shirt and a brown jacket. You thought you might have seen his face somewhere before, but you weren’t exactly firing on all cylinders and you couldn’t place him. “She might be a criminal of some kind, but you’re going to send her to another planet?” 

“I’m sorry, Captain, but it seems she may be more dangerous than a Midgardian prison could handle,” Thor answered. “My brother told me he has made many a visit to her on Earth.” Fucking news to you! Your eyes flicked to Loki, brows furrowed, but he didn’t meet your gaze. “I do not think he could have taught her many of the tricks he uses, but SHIELD assures me that they have indeed met before.” 

Now you understood the reason for the gag. Can’t contradict made up bullshit if you can’t speak. You were about to turn a furious gaze on the agent that brought you out of the car when the soft clinking of a chain drew your attention.

Loki curled a chained arm around your waist, grip firm, and tugged your back flush against him. The action forestalled anything you had been about to do or say and you attempted to catch his eye. He ducked his head and you felt the cool press of his own gag to the top of your head. 

The gesture had you stilling in surprise and seemed to only cement the story that Thor had been spun.

You felt eyes on the two of you, studying intently, before Loki’s little stunt seemed to be accepted as proof and preparations began again. You assumed for travel to this Asgard, but how exactly? There weren’t any space ships nearby and you were fairly certain the car you’d arrived in wasn’t about to escape Earth’s atmosphere.

Something with Loki here?

Thor reappeared in your line of sight holding one of two handles of some canister. A blue cube glowed inside, but it didn’t make any more sense than it had a few minutes ago. He caught your eye, his look intense and serious. “Make sure you do not let go or you will be lost to space as Loki was before he came here.” 

You felt like meaning lay beneath the words, something you were supposed to glean from them, but still struggling to process what had happened the last few days you simply nodded and took hold of the other handle. Loki’s hand settled beside yours, overlapping slightly. Unsure if this stemmed from kindness, or an attempt to be sure you didn’t let go. or something else to drag you further into the fiction and lies that had been created around you... Well, you had no way to protest, anyway.

You hoped nobody would spend too long looking for you. Maybe the local police had already told everyone you were dead, covering up the act that you still couldn’t quite understand. 

You wondered if you would ever see Earth again after this.

Your hand unknowingly reached for Loki’s at your waist, gripping tightly in fear of what was to come and in sorrow that you didn’t know what mess you were leaving behind. 

Silence as Thor turned the handle, anticlimactic, but you felt it as your stomach dropped similarly to when an elevator descends too quickly and you were pulled upwards. The blur of colours was almost too much for your eyes to bear as your vision blurred, but soon enough your feet settled on solid ground once more. 

You desperately blinked back the blurring at the edges of your vision to take in the bright gold that lined the room you had landed in. Or maybe an observatory of some kind.

“Welcome home,” a deep but firm voice greeted, your eyes drawn to a man in gold armour whose eyes glowed just as brightly as the metal. He sheathed the sword into the metal stand in front of him and approached the three of you.

You thought you could see something sad in his gaze as he touched the metal on your face, drawing it easily away from you and returning your ability to speak. “I am sorry you were dragged into this mess, miss.” 

“How did you…?” 

“My name is Heimdall and my duty is to watch over the Nine Realms. While I cannot see all at once, and some have managed to evade my sight in the past,” At this he gave Loki a look before returning his gaze to you - eyes softening once more, “I have kept an eye on your journey these past few days.” 

“Heimdall, of what do you speak?” Thor asked in utter confusion. 

But you found the words and breath to speak first. “They lied to you, I’m not an inmate! I’ve never even gotten a parking ticket!” you protested, courage mounting with every word you got out. “I was just doing my job like always and a couple of thugs came to the office and kidnapped me.” A squeeze at your waist reminded you of Loki’s presence and you pulled out of his grip, turning your annoyance on him. “And we have never met! I’ve only ever seen his reflection.” 

“Loki-” Thor growled at his brother, but received only a simple shrug and a look that lacked all remorse in reply. “Why did you-?”

Warm hands took your wrists and distracted you, your gaze drawn by watching Heimdall break the cuffs on your wrists as easily as if they were made of paper. “My apologies, miss. I had no way of letting anyone on Earth know of the misconception.” He didn’t smile, per se, but he seemed genuine and his greeting kind. 

He took a step back and you breathed with relief to finally be free of all your chains. “At least someone knows what’s going on.” Though Loki had to have known too, so why had he lied to Thor and SHIELD? “How exactly am I supposed to get home?” you asked, looking between the two brothers as if scolding children. 

“Heimdall is to use the Tesseract to restore the Bifrost and once it’s fixed, he will be able to send you home. If I can, I will return with you and explain the situation to the Avengers - they’ll be sure to help,” Thor rushed to assure you.

To be fair, they had tried, but Thor had been so convinced by SHIELD… Well, he just seemed to have gotten all mixed up in all of this so you nodded. “So, I’ll just have to wait until the bridge is fixed?” 

Thor smiled brightly this time, like the sun bursting through on a cloudy day. “Yes, just until it is fixed. I’m sure Mother will be happy to provide hospitality.” 

“I see my son is already volunteering me.” Her voice sounded light and happy despite the situation, drifting over from some as yet unseen doorway off to the side. 

“Your Majesty.” Heimdall bowed to her and you quickly followed suit - you didn’t want to end up in the dungeons for however long it would take to fix the Bifrost. 

You straightened up to find her gentle smile turned your way, her beauty and motherly face stealing your breath. “I’m glad to finally meet you, though you are such a familiar sight that I feel as though I know you already.” Her arm settled softly around your shoulders and she started to steer you along the beautiful bridge you stood on. 

Loki huffed behind you and you wondered if he might be embarrassed? No, probably not.

“I’m sorry you were brought here under such circumstances, but welcome to Asgard.” Weird space travel and spy stories coming to life aside, maybe spending some time in the golden city laid out before you wouldn’t be so bad. 

Want to be tagged in future parts or future Loki fic? Go here

[sorcerous-caress]

to dance with you | Astarion

[ fluff, heavy angst, bad end, character death, trauma, nb!reader ]

[Before the events of bg3, Reader is one of Astarion's victims ]

I am very sorry.

There was no taste to numbness, no colour, shape, or smell.

Just an absence, an emptiness. 

You couldn't escape it, no matter how much you tried. Much like total darkness, the abyss waited for you back home at the end of the day.

And while you knew it was hopeless to attempt to rationalise your way out of it, to cling to some justifications that explain that lack of warmth in your life, that just maybe it somehow made you superior to endure, you knew deep down it was a waste of time.

There's no dignity in suffering. There's no prize for enduring agony. 

Your drink was getting cold.

Lifting the cup to the edge of your lips, you swallowed down what you could of the lukewarm liquid. Barely registering the taste of it.

You're spiralling again. You always did around this time of year.

People say one must imagine sisyphus happy, and yet you've dragged your own corpse up this hill too many times to count. Clawed your way out of rot and into a resemblance of a functional adult.

Staring out the cafe window into the snow-covered city, you finished the rest of your now cold drink. It was barely night, and yet the sun has already said its goodnights.

The streets will fill out soon. The buzzing of the nightlife was just on the horizon. 

You found it ironic in a way, for how much Lathander's followers loved to proclaim the sun as the symbol of absolute goodness, then how come people only felt like being their true selves at night.

It felt like a curtain being drawn at the end of the show, when the angels slept and the pressure to perform melted away.

You should take your leave soon.

Your eyes shifted to stare into the bottom of your empty cup, traces of the remains of your drink have dried up in various shapes. 

"Good evening" a voice called out to you, someone standing in front of your table, next to the empty chair.

Looking up, you were met with ruby eyes. Silvery hair and curling around pointy ears, framing the pale face and.

"Would it be alright if I joined you, my dear?" The elf continued, voice gentle as if coaxing a rabbit out of its nest.

You don't know why, but at that moment you nodded.

He sat down on the opposite chair.

You weren't superficial. At least you didn't think so. People couldn't control their appearance, so what right do you have to judge them based on it?

Yet when you took in the man in front of you. His half lidded eyes made you the sole point of his focus, the subtle smile to his lips. You would've been blind to pretend that it didn't affect you in some way.

"Do you mind if I buy you a drink? Something to warm you up, maybe?" Clear concern in his voice, "it tends to get very cold quickly at night, and we don't want someone as lovely as you getting sick now, do we?"

He was…worried about your health? A stranger you've never met before?

You shook your head. "No, it's alright." He was probably just trying to be nice, "I wasn't aware I looked miserable enough to worry a stranger, I was just about to leave anyway."

His eyes widened, his smile dropping. "No wait…I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend" he cleared his throat, seemingly embarrassed by the misunderstanding he caused, "But where are my manners? You may call me Astarion." 

You stared at the hand that he extended to you, he didn't seem phased by your hesitation to shake it. In fact, he patiently waited for you.

Not wanting to make this more awkward than it already is, you took his hand. He smiled again.

You told him your own name, and he said it suited you. His cold hands let go of yours after running his thumb across your hand.

"Please excuse my previous…failed attempt. I'm not used to approaching people." His eyes looked to the side, probably to mask his nervousness, you thought.

He seemed so bold and confident moments ago, yet the second you mentioned leaving, he immediately switched. 

Huh, people really aren't what they seem like, you thought to yourself. Who knew behind his confident facade was just someone like you.

"It's alright, I'm sorry for my rushed assumptions." You felt bad. This person was just trying to be nice, and you were rude to him for no reason but your own paranoia.

"I noticed you since you walked in," he admitted, "you looked…simply breathtaking." His eyes drank you up, taking in every detail of your form.

You've barely noticed him. You've barely noticed anyone in the cafe. You were too occupied wallowing in your own misery to give the outside world more than a passing glance.

"I'm flattered, really." You admitted, "but I'm not sure if I will live up to your expectations…" as shameful as it was to admit, you thought it was better to warn him early on than to pretend to be someone you're not.

Astarion's hand reached over the table, holding your own in a loose reassuring grip. Giving you enough space to pull back if you wanted to.

"Oh no, trust me." He gave your hand a comforting squeeze, "you're simply perfect." His voice dripped with honey, warm and sweet sliding down your throat.

You held his hand back.

"Then let me make it up to you, how about I buy you a drink? To warm you up." There was a playful edge to your voice as you repeated his words, "well by how cold your hand is, you probably really need this drink."

Amusement filled his face as he chuckled. "You clever little thing." Your eyes followed his tongue as he licked his lips, "I'm starting to like you already."

After a couple of drinks and some time, the two of you ended up leaving the establishment together. Light conversation flowed seamlessly and weaved into one another between you both.

To say he was easy to talk to would've been an underestimation. You felt like you're hanging out with a lifelong friend instead of a stranger you've met a couple of hours ago.

You really didn't pay much attention to time flying by, not when the night sky looked so mesmerising above you. Not when Astarion sat next to you on the garden bench.

And while your conversations didn't stay light for long, he didn't seem like he minded as he leant you his shoulder to lean on while you expressed your worries.

"I think you should tell them. They're your parents, after all." His arm kept you close to his body, "Isn't it their job to help you during rough times and all of that?"

"I don't know, I'm supposed to be an adult." You hid half your face in his shoulder, "I much rather suck it up until I find a new job, and then maybe I'll tell them."

Easier said than done. It's been a week since you've handed in your applications, and yet not a single letter was sent back to you.

"I just don't want to be a burden," you continued "sometimes I wish I didn't worry them so much. Maybe they'll do better without me holding them back." 

Astarion didn't reply. His hold tightened around you.

"Sometimes…I wish I could just disappear." You buried your face in his neck, taking in his scent and closing your eyes.

Again, no reply, only the sound of the night breeze rustling the nearby bushes. The moon looming over the both of you and showering you in her light.

A waning moon.

"I ruined the mood, didn't i?" You let out a bitter laugh as you pulled away from him, "I'm sorry."

There was a somber expression on his face, his usually sharp eyes appearing soft and round.

"No, not at all." He said, "I was just thinking about your words. Wishing to disappear."

With a heavy sigh, he turned to you. "I could preach to you all night about how valuable a single mortal life is like they do all morning at those temples, but we both know that's bullshit." His voice sounded more natural, vastly different from the smooth sultry tone he had before. "Life will still move on, with or without that person."

You snorted, "What, not a fan of the church and gods?" 

"More like they're not fans of mine. But I suppose we can't all have taste." Getting up from the bench, the moonlight illuminated the edges of his hair like a halo, completely facing you.

"I suppose they're missing out." Walking by his side, the two of you strolled through the garden at a slow pace. Hands occasionally brushing against each other.

"Definitely, who wouldn't want this face on their side. I'd probably get them more visitors than their clerics ever could." Leaning closer, Astarion stopped in his tracks as his hand held your face.

"Actually, something tells me you'd do very well at that job, helping others." You leaned into his hand, eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

With a sarcastic laugh, he said "Please, me?" 

"Yes, you." When you opened your eyes, you were met with his intense gaze, "you're really good at making people feel at ease, letting them speak their worries. Like you did to me."

"Darling, I did no such thing." He lowered his eyes to your lips, licking his own. Maybe he was using this as an excuse to avoid your gaze.

You gently lifted his chin to look at you again, "Sometimes the best way to help someone is to listen to them, truly listen." 

His lips pressed into a thin line.

"I have been cold and rude to you, and yet you've treated me with warmth…that's a gift, you know. I won't ever forget it." Your own hands cupped his face, contrasting against his pale cold skin. "So yes, if you ever consider being a cleric or something one day, you'll definitely have my recommendation." 

Closing the distance between the two of you, your lips gently pressed against his forehead. Wishing his safety and well being with a quick peck as you pulled away.

His own hands left you long ago, laying abandoned on his sides. His fingers twitched.

Taking a deep breath, you saw his usual easy going smile come back. You felt at ease again as he returned to what you knew as his normal self. "I can think of a way or two you could repay me then, something we would both enjoy greatly." he said.

You felt a subtle touch against your hips, his hands asking permission to hold you.

It was getting really late, you realised. Your dogs must be worried sick back home. Their anxious figures waiting in front of the doorstep, you remember kissing them goodbye before you left.

...

It will be alright, it's just one night. You always left them more food than normal just in case, so they'll be safe and happily fed until your arrival.

Maybe you can even introduce Astarion to them tomorrow. You have a feeling they'll absolutely love licking his face until his hair is a mess.

"Yeah." You pushed his hands to fully grip your hips, his smile grew. "That sounds good to me."

-

The time spent during the walk to his home flew by. He was very good at making you lose yourself in the moment. 

Stepping inside, he kept a tight hold on you as he led you through the corridors.

Huge oil paintings adorned the crimson walls, a red carpet to match. You immediately noticed the lack of windows, and whatever ones you could spot had a thick layer of black curtains drawn closely shut over them.

He ignored any servants you passed by, and likewise, they seemed to pretend you didn't exist either, as if you were invisible like a ghost.

Astarion's demeanour shifted the second you stepped foot inside the palace, and his replies reduced to one word or less whenever you tried to start a conversation. 

You had a sinking feeling in the pits of your stomach, gnawing at your flesh and slowing down your steps.

"Is something wrong?" You asked him after he led you into a bedroom at the end of the hall. "You don't seem well."

His back was turned to you.

You took a step forward, placing a hand on his back. "Astarion?"

He flinched away from your hand the second you touched him, as if you burned the flesh on his back. A low hiss of pain escaped his lips.

Turning to face you after a few seconds, his expression was schooled back into the most charming smile.

"I just tend to get nervous when it comes to initiating intimacy." He told you, a nervous look in his eyes as he shifted slightly.

Oh, is that why he has been acting this way? You offered a comforting smile. "That's completely alright. We don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with."

"... really? Even when you came the whole way here?" He said with a sceptical tone, "nonsense, my dear, I will get over it in time. I just…need a couple of minutes, yeah."

"I really mean it, Astarion, we don't have to do anything." You repeated yourself more firmly.

You thought your words might offer him some relief, yet the subtle frown to his lips only grew deeper. 

"How about we just get comfortable on the bed and see where the night takes us?" He offered, unbuttoning the cuffs of his embroidered shirt and sitting on the lush bed.

You didn't like his total disregard for your offer. You could tell he wasn't believing you. But you didn't want to push him at the time, so you just let it go.

After making some adjustments to your clothes until you were in a comfortable state, you joined him on the bed. He immediately turned to face you. His body was so close to yours.

"Now…" he whispered so close to your ear. "Just how much I wanted to make you mine since the moment I saw you."

One thing led to another, a teasing touch there, a promising squeeze here, and the taste of his lips against yours.

He just knew how to take your breath away, how to get you to melt into the kiss. Wanting more, chasing after his tongue for another taste.

His hand going down your body, feeling your throat, your chest, your waist, and then your thighs. Heat collected between your legs. You could feel your body respond back to his expert touches, completely ignoring your brain and forming a mind of its own as it grinded against his hands.

Pleasure was overwhelming you. It was both too much and not enough at the same time. It was addicting and consuming.

Was he enjoying it, too? Did seeing you this needy and responsive to his touches make him burn with lust and desire for you?

You tried breaking the kiss to get a good look at him, but he wouldn't relent. Wouldn't give you a chance to even think about anything else but your own pleasure.

When you finally managed to pull away from his lips, you couldn't get more than a glance at his expression before he immediately went for your neck. Sucking and marking the flesh with vigour, teeth sending shivers down your spine.

You didn't realise how sharp his teeth were until you felt them graze your neck. They were almost alarmingly sharp, one wrong move, and they'd glide easily into your flesh.

"Astarion…" you called out to him. His lips left your neck and took it as an invitation to kiss you again, stealing your breath away. "Astarion no wait- " you mumbled between each kiss.

That got him to stop, his hands pulling away from your body.

"Yes my love?" He breathed against your lips.

Your eyes met his, you took in his dishevelled appearance, the flush to his cheeks and his wet glistening lips. His eyes looked like they held desire in them, inviting and tantalising.

But the more you stared into them, the less they seemed to look at you and instead look through you. Deep inside his eyes, he was a thousand miles away. 

You couldn't even see a hint of desire in them if you took away the facade.

"I don't want this." You whispered.

"Did I do something wrong?" 

"No…I just don't want this."

He got off of you, giving you your space back.

Neither of you mentioned it, instead each of you stuck to their own side of the bed.

It was clear he didn't know how to proceed forward, a crease to his eyebrows while in deep thoughts, as you assumed.

The silence was uncomfortable, unbearable even. Your mind wandered back to your home, your comfortable safe haven. 

In an attempt to lighten the mood, you said, "one time, Luna cost me over 5000 golds."

Seemingly coming back to reality, it took Astarion some seconds to fully register your words, "Luna?"

"My dog," you said, "the sweetest shepherd you'll ever meet. I came home from work late one time and she wagged her tail so fast that she fractured it." 

"She sounds charming." Astarion let out a soft laugh, "although, why Luna?"

"She's black and white, you know like the phases of the moon. I thought it was clever at the time." You admitted, "or are you more of a cat person?"

"I'm not an animal person at all, honestly." 

"What, are they also not fans of you?"

That got another chuckle out of him. "They tend to be too smelly for my liking, but I'd take a cat over a horse any day." 

He turned his body to face you again, you did the same.

"Really? Luna adores horses, she could teach you a thing or two."

"Are you really not only suggesting that the dog and I meet up, but that she'd also take me as her pupil?"

"I mean…well yeah, I was kinda hoping I'd take you to meet her tomorrow morning." You cleared your throat, "well that's if you want to.

His focus seemed to drift again, "...you don't happen to have cats, do you?" His tone was quieter than before, eyes not fully meeting yours.

"There's a stray that comes to visit Luna daily, he's not very friendly to other people but who knows." As corny as you thought your line sounded, you still proceeded to say it in hopes it will lift his mood up, "maybe he'll also fall victim to your charm like I did."

Instead of the reaction you expected, you were met with genuine scepticism.

"Ha" his laugh was bitter, "you don't have to spare my feelings darling, I know you don't see me that way."

You sat up on the bed.

"What do you mean?"

He looked up at you, you felt like he was attempting to make himself smaller against the pillow.

"Oh I'm not holding a grudge or anything." He claimed, "I can admit it when I'm not someone's type or whatever."

Brushing a strand of his hair behind his pointy ear, you tried to coax him to meet your eyes again. "...Astarion, I am very attracted to you.

He leaned away from your hand. "Then why did you want to stop?"

The truth burned in your throat to admit. "I just…I didn't feel like you were enjoying it. Like you wanted it."

That look, the eyes staring through you.

Astarion seemed very conflicted, about what? You weren't sure. But you wanted to comfort him, to take away his pain and carry it yourself instead.

He never denied your words.

You pulled your hand away from his hair, still not laying down beside him as you watched his body curl under the covers.

"It's alright, you don't have to explain anything." You got up from the bed, "I can leave if it's-" just as you were about to pick up your clothes, his hand immediately grabbed your wrist in a desperate grip.

"No," he said with dread in his eyes, "you can't."

It was a complete switch from his previous state, you weren't sure what to even make of it.

"I can't?" 

He seemed to catch himself, letting go of your wrist.

"stay with me, at least for tonight." His eyes were pleading, "we can just hold each other, isn't that what you want?" 

He sat up from the bed, gently taking your hands in his as he led you back to the comfort of the sheets.

"It's what I want." He whispered, voice so inviting and beckoning you closer, "I swear." 

You weren't strong enough to resist.

Following after him, your bodies pressed together under the soft sheets. You only felt your own heartbeat in your chest as he held you close. He was cold, so you shared your own body warmth to warm him up. 

The candles in the room were burning out, a calming silence fell. Lulling you to rest and let the day end.

You could only hear your own heart beating.

This was nice, it felt nice and safe so it must be.

Just as sleep was about to steal you away, Astarion's voice nudged you back awake.

"What do you like about me?" His voice was raw, sincere.

You couldn't see his face, "you, of course."

He moved against you, "obviously, now be more specific."

You tried to think about it. It felt like one of these important questions that'd shape your future relationship with him, so you tried to give it all of your thoughts.

There were so many things to love about him, but many of them were things you'd still love him without.

Yet they were still parts of him, but how many parts were actually him.

"Your nature." Was the answer you gave, still not quite satisfied with it.

"Oh shit." His serious tone didn't last long before being replaced by a playful one, "I didn't invite a druid to my bed, did i?" 

You snorted, "very funny, but I meant it." 

Even without seeing his face, you felt his lips curl upwards against your skin. Claiming that small victory was enough for you.

"You know" you found yourself rambling, "my day was going absolutely horrible until you showed up. I don't usually really believe in gods or miracles, but…you were the closest thing to a guardian angel I've ever had."

A yawn escaped your lips, you continued.

"I was too inside my head. I forgot that a whole world outside existed. A world with people like you." Your eyelids fluttered, sleep lurked behind them. "As shitty as life can be, somehow I believe things will be okay." 

Adjusting your position so you could face him in the dark, you felt his body stiffen against yours.

"Goodnight Astarion." you gave his forehead a small kiss, wishing for his safety and well being. "Rest well."

-

The deep hours of the night is when the Szarr palace fell the most silent. Merely an hour or two separating them from dawn.

A warm living breathing body laid next to him, just like many others before. And Astarion embraced them just like many others before.

But the waves of emotions swirling inside him like poison were definitely new.

He didn't get a hint of rest, he couldn't. As much as he wanted to just close his eyes for the remaining hours and ignore the waking world. After all they will definitely disappear in the morning, so what's a few hours of blissful ignorance?

But he just couldn't, the thought itself threatened to turn his stomach inside out. Disgust he has never felt in years lurching at his insides.

It's their fault, it's all their fault.

They should've made it easier for him. They should've just closed their eyes, spread their legs, and ignored his existence. 

They shouldn't have mentioned their stupid moon dog. They shouldn't have made him leer inside at the idea of having parents to support you yet still choosing to suffer alone.

How dare they be so cruel? How dare they kiss his forehead so tenderly.

He was choking. His throat burned so much that every breath felt like needles being dragged against the inside of his neck.

Worst of all, he could still hear their heartbeat. Did his own sound like that before? Is this what it felt like to have a speck of evidence that you're alive? 

A constant reminder of your mortal life, of your endless potential, of your stupid naivety and your pointless kindness.

His whole body was shaking.

Cazador will be here soon. Just like so many times before.

He needed to act fast. He needed to do something. Otherwise, he felt like he would go crazy.

They don't deserve whatever that monster did with all the others. They don't deserve a fate that cruel, not someone like them. Please God, anyone else but them.

He prayed, holding them closely as he begged and pleaded with each one of the Gods he could recall the name of in his state of panic.

If not for his miserable life then please do something for them, they're still a mortal, they're still one of your children. Please god just save them.

Like always, no answer came.

Astarion felt hopeless, useless and small. 

He stared in horror at his own hands, still in the same praying position. He truly had nothing to offer.

Nothing except a dignified death.

Death would save them from Cazador, Death would save them from torture.

Death was what he should've picked that night almost two centuries ago. 

Careful not to disturb their peaceful rest, Astarion grabbed a pillow.

He took one last good look at them in the dark, he engraved their face into his memory.

He wanted to lean over and give them one last kiss. He didn't feel like he deserved to.

The pillow pressed against their face, slowly cutting off their oxygen.

Astarion held tightly. He kept his hold firm even as they struggled.

He couldn't take his eyes off of the pillow, his tears falling and staining its white cover. A drop after another.

As their struggles died down, by that time, he had gotten his side of the pillow entirely wet. He still held firm, despite his shaking fingers, despite the blood slowly joining his tears onto the pillow from how hard his teeth dug into his lips.

At these hours, the Szarr palace was the most silent. He couldn't risk making a single sound.

Only when a heartbeat ceased to exist did he let go of his grip.

He got off the bed, closed their eyes and covered their face with the sheets. He sat on the floor, head next to their cold dead feet.

Despite his clean hands, he swore he felt their blood on them, seeping into his skin and marking him forever.

Not just their blood, but the blood of every innocent miserable person he lured back into this hell.

He just wanted to save them, to save this one person. Take a life in stride and carry the guilt to the end of his days. 

It was just one life, one very precious person.

Was a very precious person.

But he forgot to account for the hundreds of lives he has taken indirectly before, it was easier to forget when it wasn't his own hands stopping their heartbeat.

His whole world felt like it stopped because of one life.

As he sat there on the cold floor, naked, shaking with tears streaming down his face, he heard the very familiar tapping of a staff against the floorboards.

All of his feelings vanished in an instant, as if he was drowning in a deep volcanic abyss before getting pulled into the freezing surface.

He could not feel his fingers, numbness spread throughout his whole body.

The tapping got closer. It was heading towards him.

Cazador was heading towards him.

There were no feelings left inside him, just pure numbness.

There was no taste to numbness, no colour, shape, or smell.

Just an absence, an emptiness. 

He couldn't escape it, no matter how much he tried. Much like total darkness, the abyss waited for him back home at the end of the day.

[rubra-wav]

If I don’t ask now, I won’t remember later ANYWAYS

I am just itching for hurt/no comfort for no reason(well there is a reason, I just spent the last hour reading Lucifer x reader angst) I really want just any character of your choosing romantic angst no comfort and maybe a breakup because why not

-🦋anon :3

Lucifer x reader : Twice divorced

A/N I've been itching to write Lucifer more so it's also gonna be about him. Hope you're ready to watch this man fall apart :)(bro watch ME fall apart writing this)

Also new banner (happy happy happy)

Cw: Angst no comfort, gn!reader, both parties are suffering, they don't actually get divorced they just kinda. Agree to separate for a bit?

- You'd been together with Lucifer for a short time before getting married.

- You guessed that was the main mistake.

- It's unfortunate to say, but you underestimated your own ability to properly keep yourself happy and secure in helping him unravel everything.

- 4 months into your marriage, Lilith showed up and shit absolutely hit the fan. Lucifer locked himself away upon her showing up again under the guise of 'not putting it onto you'

- This frankly broke you.

- You'd spent 2 years knowing Lucifer and helping him, and all that was undone in what seemed like 10 minutes of her showing up, spewing some nonsense about how you should get out before he burnt out again like after falling and took you with him.

- It was undeniably her fault. You didn't blame Lucifer.

- But you weren't some unmoving, unemotional wall of a person.

- It hurt so fucking badly being treated like you couldn't handle your own husband by him after his ex showed up.

- You knew you had to get out, or you would go insane.

- You walked to Lucifer's door, suitcase wheels loudly dragging on the floor.

- Lucifer opened the door before you even had the chance to knock on it, hand suspended mid-knock as his panicked expression was revealed.

- He'd heard the familiar sound before from Lilith.

- You watched Lucifers red eyes look down at the suitcase, wide eyes recognising his worst fear being confirmed.

- "Oh.." He simply said quietly.

- You felt your own heart aching at his reaction, as if he was expecting it, but forced yourself to continue. "... Yeah." You said hesitantly.

- The silence beat between you two, and you grit your teeth, a hard lump formed in your throat, and you fought against crying.

- Lucifer let out a soft chuckle filled with no kind of happiness, smiling at you with tears streaming down his face. "You know... I really thought this would be different. I.." he trailed off with a loud hiccup. "I'm sorry." He mumbled.

- You hummed, fighting to find words to say as you blinked hard.

- "I do love you, Lulu. This. This doesn't change that and I don't think anything will." You said very truthfully, voice shaking.

- Lucifer looked back at you in surprise, hope on his face.

- "But, I also love me too. And I think to love me as well I need to distance myself from this until you're somewhat over.. whatever this is." You gestured to his depression storm of a room and then to his messy, unkempt appearance.

- Lucifer wanted to get you to stay. But he couldn't bring himself to.

- It became obvious in that moment how he'd hurt you in his relapse, and he didn't want to hurt you even more by convincing you to be around him.

- It would be wrong to expect you to be able to support him while he couldn't do the same for you at all.

- He gulped loudly and slowly nodded despite the painful emptiness that he could feel consuming him even more.

- "I'm sorry, (name)." He apologised again, "I..." There was so much he wanted to say, but he couldn't put it into words.

- Another moment of silence passed as you waited for him to finish his sentence.

- "Just leave." It came out harsh, and he internally screamed at himself to not, but he couldn't stop himself. "Do as she said, and leave before I hurt you anymore." Lucifer's voice trembled, but anger made itself clear regardless.

- His mind raced in a mess of negativity that he just couldn't think clearly through.

- You felt your stomach drop, hurt hitting through you. Part of you wanted to bite back, but you were just exhausted already from this exchange.

- Wordlessly, you turned away from him, knuckles white from where you were clutching your suitcase hard.

- You barely felt in the moment as you made your way to the heavy front door of Lucifer's estate, spirits at rockbottom.

- You hesitated in front of it, thinking you were making a mistake doing this, then remembered the way his tear filled eyes glared at you as if daring you to fulfill his expectations.

- All he could see was Lilith in you. It was like you didn't even exist.

- Click. Thud.

- The loud sound of the door closing and you taking all the warmth you brought to his home with it.

- Lucifer sat down in the doorway of his room, staring blankly ahead, thoughts an absolute mess.

- He laughed, before letting out a loud shuddering sob as he leaned up against the door frame, hugging his knees to his chest and burying his face in them.

- "How do I somehow manage to ruin everything good?"

Ow 💀

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

God the Bounty Hunter with lyrics from Think by Kaleida:

Think of me, I'll never break your heart Think of me, you're always in the dark I am your light, your light, your light Think of me, you're never in the dark

Playing Games With My Heart

Side-drabble for God Mode

Warning: dark undertones.

"Do you have turnips?" He asks.

You look up from the counter with a 'huh'. You still just think of him as a stranger. God, what a strange name, but suiting. He's managed to take over your whole life in a matter of days.

"I'm making grilled cheese--"

He waves his switch at you and you nod. You go back to buttering bread.

"No, I can't make a dime on them. I stopped buying."

"How much are they going for in your village?"

"I don't know, I'd have to check," you narrow your eyes. He's obsessive, not just about the game.

"Oh," he puts the game down, the bubbly music flowing from the speakers.

"Sorry, I just wanna get lunch done then..."

He's quiet. You notice that about him. His steps don't make a sound. Sometimes he's there and you don't even realise. He rounds the counter and stands behind you, hands framing your waist as he bends to rest his chin on your shoulder.

He doesn't say a word as you go about your work. You're a busy body these days. Doing anything to keep yourself distracted. To keep him away but just like now, it doesn't always work.

He wraps his arms around you as you set down the knife and bread. You can't work with him almost on top of you. Besides, your appetite isn't really there. It's been rather elusive since you found the front door locked and impenetrable.

"I'm going away," he says.

You nod but don't think too much of those words. Too afraid to ask what they mean. Or to repeat the question that made him so angry before. Can you go home?

"Where?"

He chuckles.

"Sweet pea," he cooes in his way. The way that warns be quiet. "I won't be away long, but I'll be around."

You frown. What does that mean? He'll be away but around. How confusing like everything else about him. The plucking of the electronic music continues to rise from the small speakers and you stare at the colourful screen where his character stands staring out.

"Will you miss me?" He nuzzles into your neck.

You go rigid. You know what he wants to hear but can't bring yourself to say it. You won't miss him. Even if you are trapped here. He's suffocating. You can't even get enough time to make a damn sandwich. Pardon your French.

"Sweet pea?"

You dip your chin down and sniffle. These bouts come and often the only thing that makes them go is him. He'll get mad and drag you out to face his wrath. His love, he'll call it afterward.

"Don't be like this," he whispers as his hand creeps up to your throat.

"Yes," you croak, "I'll miss you. A lot."

"I know, sweet pea," he hums, his voice catching for just a moment, "I'll miss you, too."

[archivalofsins]

The Re-traumatization of Amane Momose Part 2

Today, we'll be continuing off from the previous post discussing Amane Momose's case.

In this post we'll be discussing points four and five.

Four being her father and home-life along with how the other prisoners are a danger to each other and Amane specifically.

Look I'm gonna level with everyone here I didn't want to write this.

Wha- Why?!

Amane's trial fucking sucked and I didn't really want to think about it that much anymore. Yet, I like Amane as a character and Milgram as a whole...

So, I can't keep avoiding talking about the things I enjoy the way I enjoy speaking about them even if I am anxious about the way I enjoy and speak about things that matter a lot to me hurting others in some way. I still owe it to myself to do what I enjoy doing regardless of how it will be received. The other reason was just legitimately you know when you start something and you have all this energy for it but then like you get super fucking sick or sidetracked then after a while you look back at it like oh that...

That also happened. Then I forgot all my points and my brief descriptions for myself were fucked to hell and not helpful. Because they worked solely on yeah I'll remember this later I'll know exactly what point I mean here when I discuss it briefly. Briefly names a color... Me presently with memory problems that are exacerbated through getting sick. Yeah I'm at a loss I don't know what the fuck I'm supposed to do with that.

Plus, my perspective changed because I've had more time to sit with the information. So yeah... We're dragging everyone into this now more so than I was going to before. So get ready for this doozy because this isn't just the retraumatization of Amane Momose anymore everyone's getting trauma!

Even me because I have the unique fear that by continuing to do this I will get severely sick again. Like this draft is cursed. I can feel the fatigue creeping up on me. I know it's psychosomatic but still. I'm willing to let it win.

So, let's get this over with before Haruka's birthday hopefully.

4. Amane's Father & Homelife

Over the course of Milgram Amane's father is alluded to a great deal. This aspect of her character is something shared between her, Haruka, Yuno, Futa, Mu, and Kazui. All characters who bring up their fathers to varying degrees.

Amane being on seemingly good terms with her father and proud of his character is something that directly contrasts Haruka and Futa's relationship with their fathers. This is something I believe to have been done with intent. As Futa and Amane's circumstances directly parallel the others.

Futa having an absentee mother and Amane having a father who is scarcely present due to his work. Leaving Futa and Amane to be raised by parents who would more than likely dote more on children of the other gender. Something highlighted through Haruka's narrative.

Trial 1 Written Interrogation

Q.05  What is your father like? Haruka: I made him disappointed.

Trial 2 Written Interrogation

Q.04   What’s the origin of your name? Haruka: Apparently my parents wanted a girl. It was decided on long before I was born. Q.06 What do you think of your father? Haruka: I don’t think he was particularly interested in me.

Haruka from the beginning of Milgram brings up gendered favoritism when it comes to parenting. Through subtly highlighting that his parents from the start wanted a daughter not a son. This brings up the concept of daddy girls and momma boys.

The fact that mothers tend to dote on sons more something we see Haruka's mom do a lot when he was younger then attempt to wean him off of as he ages. Because mothers tend to become more hands off as their sons grow older so they can grow into,

22/10/06 (Mikoto’s Birthday)

Haruka: Mikoto-san. Um, are you ok……?

Mikoto: Ah, Haru-kun. It’s been a while since we last talked, huh. Yeah, I’m fine. Are you doing ok……?

Haruka: Ah, I’m fine. I’ve been enjoying myself, a lot. Um, I’m sorry, for avoiding you. I was a bit scared. Of you, honestly……

Mikoto: Ahhh, yeah. I’ve been lashing out whenever I go to sleep, right? ……it’s fine. Even I think you’re right to be scared. You know, I kinda just hate that I don’t even know what’s going on myself…..haha. Ah, but despite all that you still came and talked to me because it’s my birthday, right? Thank you, you’ve grown into a good man.

Instead of growing too dependent on their mothers. They start actively going you can't rely on me for everything and withholding rewards for what after a point becomes expected behavior. This is something that's not completely dependent on how old a child is as mothers can start doing this at any time or just not dote on their sons at all.

Everyone's parenting style is different a good example of this is in Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha Strikers- Also two moms be upon ye!

People will be like Legend of Korra guys Steven Universe meanwhile in 2007. They walked so other shows could run- Honestly sure yeah they did their thing. Let's stop pretending others things haven't though. By the time those shows released I'd had this for a few years- I'm sorry I'm getting off topic.

People you want good queer rep yeah and I've been having it since I was twelve I won't refuse more though.

The point of me highlighting this is two the distinct difference between these two mom's parenting styles. Which was the reason the staff included it as well. To pretty much highlight having parents will always be having parents regardless of the gender of said parents.

Nanoha is strict with Vivio thinking that if she's helped up each time she trips and falls it will be spoiling her. She wants her to be able to get up on her own even though she's young because that is what she had to do. Fate on the other hand is more sympathetic because she has a whole other home life thing going that we can't go into depth with here because it spoilers. The point is she has the character motivation to see a crying child and go oh no I need to help even if the fall wasn't that bad like Nanoha pointed out.

These are extensions of their character arcs and background personified into their parenting styles. Something that impacts how even the worst of parents tackle parenting their own kids later in life. Now that doesn't excuse anything but it's a projection of experiences onto this new life. Parents try to raise their kids for the realities that they faced even if those are no longer the realities we live in.

Simply because no one can ever know when those things will become reality again. It's not reasonable, fair, right, or justified. It just something that impacts how we treat those around us.

And the example I just gave shows it can start much younger than the age Haruka was. Sometimes you can just skip the doting step immediately if a child's environment is hostile towards them and their parents believe the child needs to be prepared that coddling will not happen. In fact there are forms of attachment in childhood that are viewed as formative from when you're a baby.

If a baby doesn't cry it has psychological implications and how parents respond to a babies crying can impact the sort of attachment the child has to the parent. Haruka is shown to have anxiety around growing close to others and fear of being abandoned/discarded.

This is possibly something rooted in his childhood as well. As the fear mirrors his relationship with his mother. Who dotted on him to start and then began moving further and further away from him as noted through his lyrics,

"Why is it breaking? Tell me why? Please don’t change."

This leads into his anxiety around people changing their minds on him later. Along with serves to explain his volatile reaction to the fact that Es can change their verdict now.

One could say this aspect of Milgram is something that causes Haruka great personal distress and fear which he then displays through bursts of anger. As though being placed in such a situation is forcing him to relive the same trauma that got him into this predicament to begin with.

"Don’t leave me alone, don’t leave me- Why was I born like this? Why does it hurt so much?"

The same reasoning used to draw this conclusion on Haruka can be applied to Amane. Yet, Amane doesn't seem to have trouble with attachment though. She's a very straight forward earnest child. She's not against saying what she feels, verbalizing her needs, or stating when someone is doing something that causes her discomfort.

Her attachment style seems very secure and open.

Well not necessarily... Let's look into the information on this further and try to discern where Amane and some others may fit in the attachment styles based on what little we know about their home lives.

Firstly let's look at what NIH has to say on this matter,

There are four types of infant-parent attachment: three ‘organized’ types (secure, avoidant and resistant) and one ‘disorganized’ type (Table 1). The quality of attachment that an infant develops with a specific caregiver is largely determined by the caregiver’s response to the infant when the infant’s attachment system is ‘activated’ (eg, when the infant’s feelings of safety and security are threatened, such as when he/she is ill, physically hurt or emotionally upset; particularly, frightened). Beginning at approximately six months of age, infants come to anticipate specific caregivers’ responses to their distress and shape their own behaviours accordingly (eg, developing strategies for dealing with distress when in the presence of that caregiver) based on daily interactions with their specific caregivers (7–9). Three major patterns of responses to distress have been identified in infants, which lead to three specific ‘organized’ attachment patterns.

Above is a list of the quality of caregiving implemented and the types of attachment they form.

Sensitive Loving quality of care leads to organized secure attachment.

Insensitive rejecting quality of care leads to organized insecure-avoidant attachment.

Insensitive inconsistent care leads to organized insecure-resistant attachment.

Atypical Atypical care leads to disorganized insecure-disorganized attachment.

Infants whose caregivers consistently respond to distress in sensitive or ‘loving’ ways, such as picking the infant up promptly and reassuring the infant, feel secure in their knowledge that they can freely express negative emotion which will elicit comforting from the caregiver (9). Their strategy for dealing with distress is ‘organized’ and ‘secure’. They seek proximity to and maintain contact with the caregiver until they feel safe.

Just benefits from her parents.

Q.03 What are your parents like? Mu: Kind, cool and beautiful. I’m proud of both my Mama and Papa.

Q.11 Who do you want to see right now? Mu: I miss my friends too- But most of all, Papa and Mama.

Mu displays Organized Secure Attachment.

This is displayed through how she recognizes that if she cries someone will help her.

Along with her Japanese lyrics in It's Not My Fault being able to be directly translated (as many brought up during the songs release) to her acknowledging or pointing out the fact that she is an individual deserving of pity and concern from others. That she has always been an individual deserving of this care, special attention, and prioritization. along with stating that this will never change and it has always been this way.

"I told you I’m queen, and it will never be changed I’ve got EVERYTHING, everything is as I wish."

Mu recognizes that if her story is sad enough and she appears pitiful enough someone will want to save/help her.

This is also highlighted in her first song through the line,

"I don’t want tomorrow to come, I want to forget yesterday I was miserable, someone please help me."

Asking for help, displaying negative emotions, or voicing your issues to others is a sign of secure attachment and faith in the fact that if you voice these things you will receive help instead of being ignored or scorned outright.

Mu also displays she is innately unfamiliar with and irrationally upset by being ignored or overlooked. To an inconsolable extent at times. Being ignored by those she cares for or is interested in is not something she handles well. Because it is not something she has been put through often.

Mu's accustomed to having her needs meet and expects those around her to meet them.

"Hey..why don't you listen to me...? I'm telling you... Hey...HEY, I'M TALKING TO YOU!"

22/06/22 (Haruka’s Birthday)

Mu: What’s wrong, Haruka-kun? Did something happen? You shouldn’t look away like that when you’re together with me.

Haruka: Ah, s-sorry, Mu-san. Um…… No, it’s nothing. I just, suddenly got a feeling. That something is about to happen.

Mu: Isn’t that because it’s your birthday? Or perhaps it’s a sign the guard is about to wake up again soon? Fufufu, I bet they’ll be really surprised at a lot of things.

Haruka: That, might be true. But, I want the the guard to see. ……the new, me…….

22/07/05 (Mu’s Birthday)

Mu: Hey~~~ Isn’t everyone a bit gloomy lately? I get that this situation isn’t ideal, but you’re really bringing down the mood for my birthday.

Yuno: Haha, surely even you can tell now’s not really the time for something like that right. Nobody’s really in the mood, or rather nobody has time time to deal with something like that.

Mu: Boo, how boring. You seem to be free, you can celebrate for me. Go on, celebrate.

Yuno: Wow, what a pain. I’m reading the atmosphere properly and keeping quiet. Well, you just go and have fun with Haruka. In the corner somewhere so you’re out of everyone’s way.

21/07/05 (Mu’s Birthday)

Mu: Yuno. Don’t you have something to say to me?

Yuno: Huh? To you? Me? ……ahh, uh? Your birthday, right? Happy birthday~

Mu: How mean… Since it’s my birthday, I really wish you’d said something before I had to come and tell you myself.

Yuno: Right, right, I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful in future~ Later! Haha… things have become even more of a bother… ……so was that Mu-chan’s real personality, then? It’s probably because the guard did something, right?

One of the reasons that Mu is so comfortable with putting expectations like these not only on people she hasn't gotten to know that well yet but complete strangers (in the case of her asking the audience for help through the lyrics of After Pain) is because she's secure in the fact that she will receive it. Not only that but she believes it is only right for her to receive it.

Something she blatantly states later in It's Not My Fault if going by the more direct translations provided on wikipedia,

"It’s not my fault after all, after all! Everyone wants me to be innocent. What a relief. Can’t be helped. Since I’m always meant to be pitied-"

Beautiful day to make people uncomfortable with telling creators what the fuck they actually meant when they made something. Just a wonderful day to do that. It really is fantastic when I can use something that annoyed the hell out of me in the past to support a point now.

We've gone full circle I'm really reflecting on all of my experiences with Milgram thus far. So much has changed. Like the official lyrics of Undercover but not the ones for It's Not My Faults though. The more things change as they say... Seriously though they official translation for It's not My Fault does have grammatical errors that should be changed but it still gets the point across fine.

Here are the other lyrics in comparison.

"Because it’s not my fault I am innocent as everybody desires. I am relieved, I am always the drama queen."

These lyrics don't illustrate the point I'm making as well as the widely accepted more "accurate translation "according to others above. Except they still do support it.

Because the official translation plays on Mu's outward insecurities when she's first brought into Milgram. Along with how she's grown past those anxieties after being found innocent but is thrown back into them when Es brings up how and why they might change her verdict.

It reflects how she wants to believe she did nothing wrong and it isn't fully on her. Along with the genuine relief she feels at a majority of the audience recognizing that. To the point she again exaggerates saying everyone wanted her innocent,

"I am innocent as everybody desires."

Which couldn't be further from the truth.

While also continuing to poke fun at her own insecurities or shortcomings. Like how she's prone to being overdramatic and blowing things up into a bigger deal in her head than they actually are.

Again like saying everyone wanted her innocent which AGAIN-

No that's so far from everyone that you were closer to getting a 50/50 than Haruka was by the end of trial two. Girl that's not everyone it's barely over half.

Yet this habit of hers is something that has been repeatedly pointed out from the start of Milgram.

As this is also highlighted on the board berating Mu in After Pain. Which not only states that she just benefits from her parents but other mocking phrases that highlights she how she takes things further than they need to go such as,

“It hurts~ (cry)”  "Cries at everything" "I did nothing wrong (crying imagery) ←huh?!" "Class 1-A “Trash”noki Mu-chan" (Potential double meaning, since on top of the word “guzu” being used to call someone trash, “guzuguzu” can also mean complaining.)

Her description on the Milgram website continues to highlight this habit of hers to cry at even the simplest of inconveniences as do the Minigrams too,

What follows is a rough rewording of what's in the image.

A beautiful prisoner with an appearance clearly uncommon for a Japanese woman. Despite her slim appearance, she’s the type to speak her mind clearly and rebels against the abnormal situation that is Milgram. At first, she is very wary of Es. Her every move suggests that she had a proper upbringing, most likely being born into a wealthy family. Perhaps it’s due to this that she has a high sense of pride and why when she clashes with others she quickly becomes tearful and complains.

Furthermore one of the things that showcases that Mu has a good relationship with her parents plainly is her own words. She has nothing but good things to say about her parents and implies she misses them greatly. The first thing she does in her interrogation a hostile environment is cry for several minutes than flat out say she wants her parents.

She even states in her written interrogation that she wants to find a man like her father,

Q.05 What do you like in the opposite sex?

Mu: Someone like Papa.

The strategy is said to be ‘organized’ because the child ‘knows’ exactly what to do with a sensitively responsive caregiver, ie, approach the caregiver when distressed.

God gave me everything, everything is as I wish.

And as Star pointed out her favorite place is also just her mothers hometown.

Q.07 What is your favourite place? Mu: Mama’s hometown of Nice. The sea there is beautiful.

A statement that not only implies her being on good terms with her mom simply due to her going out of the way to take Mu to her hometown. But also through her birthday art which has more ties to France and her mother,

Displaying full an well that she does take a certain amount off pride in her lineage and both of her parents. Yet she doesn't have some grand fixation on them they're just her parents. She has a life outside of them. She is the one being parented not the one doing the parenting-

Amane Trial 2 Written Interrogation

Q.10 What was your father’s job? Amane: After a lot of hard work, he became a lecturer. I think it’s something to be proud of. Q.19 Is there anything you wished you parents did for you? Amane: My mother should have kept her faith until the end.

Mikoto Trial 1 Written Interrogation

Q.01 Tell us your family structure. Mikoto: My mother, me, and my younger sister. My sister’s a blossoming high school student. Q.16 What’s your relationship like with your parents? Mikoto: My parents are divorced. I get along well with my mother though, she’s the one who raised me. I don’t want to make her worry.

Mikoto's Written Interrogation Trial 2

Q.01 Do you have a good relationship with your little sister? Mikoto: Absolutely I want to show her how her big bro is working hard in the big city. Q.04 What was the cause of your parents' divorce? Mikoto: He chose work over family. But well, at least that's what my mom told me, so who knows!

Mikoto actively shows insecurity and distrust in his mothers word. Displaying on paper for others to see that she isn't a trustworthy person and prone to exaggerate or embellish to get her point across. Making him uncertain about what the actual truth behind his parents divorce ways because and I quote,

"My mom told me, so who knows!"

On top of that he states she's prone to worrying and she's shown calling him within the same music video he is shown to be getting repetitive harassing and emotionally distressing calls and texts. To the point of wanting to throw away his phone all together.

I also think it's telling that his break down on the train is framed to have happened exactly after his phone call with his mother. As we see him talking on the phone to her directly in front of the same bright window he breaks down in front of earlier.

And when put together the scenes look like they happened in succession as though he hung up and immediately started having a break down. Yet, you know that's just my perspective the perspective of a person with mom issues that have thankfully worked out after repeated trial and error. So I could just be projecting I'm not above it.

I know full and well though that the last thing I'd need after a bad day is being emotionally manipulated into feeling like a failure because I,

A. Haven't visited home in a while.

And

B. I haven't called in much longer.

Because all I have time for is work and sleep. Work-life balance isn't a see-saw it's a noose and I'm hanging hoping the thread breaks.

I'm getting folded by the workforce like laundry that was left to form mildew in the wash, not put on for another rinse and instead just slapped against a wall then hung up to dry. Because we don't got time anymore this is what we have and it reeks but we carry on.

We stay grinding- Get back to work!

Getting the old you failed at your job and home life one-two uppercut ey? Sucks to be you bud but you're holding the record for the worst day speedrun one phone call after another it never stops.

Yuno Written Interrogation Trial 1

Q.07 Tell us your family structure. Yuno: Grandpa, grandma, mum, me, younger brother←Yura Q.19  Who do you want to see right now? Yuno: Hmm. My family, I guess.

Image 1 MINIGRAM EP6 "Cat's Cradle"

[6-1] Yuno: My special move Yuno: Tokyo Tower! Yuno: No reaction?? Sob... Amane: I'm not very familiar with this Yuno: My younger brothers went crazy over this Amane: You're very skillful Kya kya Futa: .....

Image 2: MINIGRAM EP28 "2nd Grade Syndrome"

[28-2] Kazui: Wow.. you're really good...? Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat Yuno: Ahh Yuno: I used to play with my little brothers, so a little.. Kazui: I can't see what you're doing with your hands.. Yuno: My brothers favorites are much bigger tricks Suu.. Kazui: Even bigger tricks?!

Yuno's Written Interrogation Trial 2

Q.06 What do you think of your father? Yuno: Didn’t you ask about my family structure before? I don’t have one, remember? Q.07 You just got given one million yen and need to use it up as quickly as possible, what will you do? Yuno: I’ll go out for a really nice meal together with my family. The rest I’ll give to my friends. Q.15 If you could have one wish granted, what would it be? Yuno: I don’t really have anything. I’m fine as long as my friends and family are happy.

Yuno takes on a caretaker role when it comes to her friends and family. Focusing solely on providing for them when given a large sum of money and saying she's fine as long they're happy. Following the trend of displaying care and paternal affection/consideration towards loved ones. With the same amount of focus on her younger sibling as Mikoto has.

Amane is also referred to as a big sister at the end of Magic. Tying the three together as older siblings who provide care to others in some way. However, Amane admits in her first interrogation that she is in fact an only child.

Q.09 Tell us your family structure.

Amane: It was my father, my mother and me.

She honestly speaks in past tense knowing full and well at this point her mother is dead while her father to her admission in the same interrogation has yet to return,

Q.02  Who do you look up to? Amane: My father. He’s been away on a trip for a while, but I think that’s very honourable of him. Q.13 Who do you want to see right now? Amane: My father. I want him to praise me for all my hard work.

This leaves two possibilities for why Amane refers to herself as big sister in Magic,

A. She may have been put in the foster care system after the death of her mom.

Or

B. She's referring to herself as big sister for religious reasons. i.e to imply seniority to the individuals just learning about her beliefs. Similar to how Mahiru refers to herself as big sister to both Es and Amane.

It could be both of these things as well.

Since Amane admits in both her voice dramas that she wants to spread her beliefs and practices to others. Highlighting her willingness to use Milgram to accomplish this goal. Not just through her the music videos or Milgram's validation if she were voted innocent but through the individuals the prison has given her access to if the opportunity arises.

This also plays into Yuno's comfort in asking Amane for advice on her birthday.

Because if those same things were discussed with her when she was Amane's age than Yuno wouldn't find confiding in someone that age about things like that inappropriate. Because on some level be it conscious or subconscious Yuno would recognize that Amane is a child similar to how she was.

Yuno's First Voice Drama

Yuno: Hmm, it's surprisingly fun? I do have worries about how my family is doing, but… It's kinda like one of those strange, personal experiences.

Es: Fun…is it?

Yuno: That's right. The other prisoners are all entertaining, we sound each other out on various things, and the vibe's pretty nice as well. In such conditions, observing other people sure does make for great fun, you feel?

23/06/27 (Amane’s Birthday)

Amane: What is it…… Kashiki Yuno. Don’t sit so close to me. Go away.

Yuno: Sorry for barging in when you’re getting into your worldview thing. But Mahiru-san’s finally managed to get to sleep. Humour me with some small talk while I take a break. By the way, Amane. Have you ever wished you were never born? I’ve thankfully lived a pretty fun life so far, so haven’t really. But you seem to be struggling with something. So I kinda wondered if you thought like that.

Amane: ……I don’t think that. Being born into this world is the first miracle any person experiences, and is something to celebrate. Even if after birth I was put through trial after trial, the value of that will never disappear.

Yuno: Hmm. Ok. ……happy birthday, then. It’s good that you were brought into the world, I guess.

Yuno Trial Two Voice Drama

Es: It did appear as though you were having fun.

Yuno: Yes, it was fun! They may be murderers, but they're interesting people! It puts me at ease, in a way, that we're all people lacking in something.

In the same vein Mikoto would be more uncomfortable with talking to Amane like an adult given his own discomfort with his mother's possible behavior when he was coming up. So, he would try to avoid doing it and focus more on treating her like someone her age but not demeaning her.

This is displayed in how he deals with both Amane and Futa through the portal timeline and in minigrams. Mostly the ways he restricts himself from confiding in them fully,

21/10/06 (Mikoto’s Birthday)

Mikoto: ……ah, Futa? What’s up? Did you come to celebrate my birthday?

Futa: Hah!? Like I care about your birthday. ……what’s up with you, though, you’re usually a lot more excited. I thought you were the sort of idiot who’d make a big deal over your birthday.

Mikoto: Yeah, usually that’d be the case. ……I think I must be getting tired. It’s like I’m anxious over something but I can’t really explain what it is…… Like, the feeling that I’ve been totally wrong about something. Haha, but it’s not like talking to you about it is gonna do anything.

Futa: Yeah, yeah, just like you say. Talking to me about it isn’t gonna help. ……but, it’s not like I don’t get what you’re saying. Or rather, I understand exactly what you mean. And if it’s the same thing as I’ve been feeling, then it will just get stronger as time goes on......probably. But anyway, rather than talking to someone like me you should go and bother the others. Go and get showered with their stupid birthday wishes.

20/07/15

Amane: Eh, my studies? I enjoy it. To me, studying is something I do for fun. Do you not think the same, Mikoto-san?

Mikoto: Not at all! It’s just a means to an end…… I just did the bare minimum needed to get into a good company. I actually went to an arts uni that had a pretty low subject requirement to enrol, and from there I studied curation and…… uhh, you don’t really know what that is huh. Hmm. Since your way of speaking is so mature, I keep forgetting I need to explain myself properly……

Amane: It’s fine. If there are any words I don’t understand I can look them up later. An arts university, though…… Does that mean you’re good at drawing, then? It may be a bit rude to say, but that’s rather unexpected.

Mikoto: No, not really…? I mean, I could do the bare minimum needed to pass the entrance exam though. Even though it’s called an arts uni, there’s still subjects where you don’t need to draw at all. I’m the sort of person who tries to be efficient, so I worked backwards from the job I wanted to get into and chose to study subjects like direction and management~ ……ah, I’ve done it again……

20/06/15

Mikoto: Hey, it’s kinda a bother having you be so angry and tense all the time. You should stop trying get everyone to pay attention to you.

You’re a uni student, right? You can’t act like that once you start working properly.

Futa: Huh!? Shut up. Not like I care what you say. Even though we’re in this shitty situation, you’re just chatting away, it’s stupid. Aren’t you the one who’s acting out of place here? ……also the fact you give everyone nicknames is just gross.

Mikoto: *sigh* It’s more stupid to be taking this all so seriously. I mean, it’s definitely just a reality TV program. There’s no way a real prison exists that’s this lax. Also, I don’t give nicknames to everyone.

I don’t give them to young kids like Amane, or to the hard-to-approach types like Shidou-san. I mean, I’m not giving you one, right?

Futa: ……oi, which group are you trying to say I am?

Mikoto tends to take this approach with most people younger than him. More associating himself with the older adults in Milgram but distancing himself when stressed or upset from everyone. Just like Yuno and Amane are shown to do as well.

Infants whose caregivers consistently respond to distress in insensitive or ‘rejecting’ ways, such as ignoring, ridiculing or becoming annoyed, develop a strategy for dealing with distress that is also ‘organized’, in that they avoid their caregiver when distressed and minimize displays of negative emotion in the presence of the caregiver. 

Yuno interestingly enough, has a worse attachment style than Kazui. Her attachment style is more around Mikoto, Amane and Haruka's. Unlike Mahiru (who's attachment is more akin to Mu's), to use as an example, Yuno isn't as willing to voluntarily display negative emotions,

Nor does she often actively seek out her emotional needs being fulfilled by an outside party.

Instead, she focuses on how she can earn those needs being met from others (i.e. what kind of girls do you like? I know you'll respond this way if I do x). Furthermore, she shows discomfort at the idea of being pitied or pointing out her life may not be an ideal one.

Which, as you may be able to tell, is similar to Amane. This is indicative on unhealthy or disordered ways to cope with unsatisfactory circumstances.

Yuno is also conflict avoidant similarly to Mikoto, showcased by how her interactions with Mu within the portal timeline progress over the course of the trials. Instead of telling Mu the issues she has with her the moment she notices them, she opts to avoid her instead. Or if she really must deal with her simply placate her in the moment or give her a distraction.

Hoping Mu will eventually read the room and get the hint like she would be expected to. This leads to Yuno allowing Mu to do whatever she wants, even if it's clearly bothering her. Because Yuno is subconsciously expecting Mu to do what she herself would do intuit that her behavior is a nuisance to the people in Milgram, especially with how circumstances escalate between trial one and two.

Theoretically, this would indicate that Yuno was left to figure out her own problems or ignored as a baby. Which would make her less comfortable asking for or offering help overall. As she would not have the foundational knowledge for that to be something she leans into.

The strategy is said to be ‘organized’ because the child ‘knows’ exactly what to do with a rejecting caregiver, ie, to avoid the caregiver in times of need. This avoidant strategy is also ‘insecure’ because it increases the risk for developing adjustment problems. 

Yuno starts to avoid people when showered with concern or sympathy because it distresses her closing herself off simply because it's something she isn't used to. Just like being ignored isn't something Mu is used to. Meanwhile Amane and Mikoto isolate themselves and withdraw when faced with scrutiny, negative reinforcement, judgement, stress of any kind.

Infants whose caregivers respond in inconsistent, unpredictable and/or ‘involving’ ways, such as expecting the infant to worry about the caregiver’s own needs or by amplifying the infant’s distress and being overwhelmed, also use an ‘organized’ strategy for dealing with distress; they display extreme negative emotion to draw the attention of their inconsistently responsive caregiver.

Q.02 Do you think you were loved?

Amane: Extremely, deeply.

"She’s the one who raised me I don’t want to make her worry." - "Yeah… well, I mean, some days are hard, but… I’m doing alright, don’t worry."

"But it's not scary at all, because it's love."

"It’s like what’s wrong isn’t wrong."

So I will NEVER forgive you if this is happening to me even though I’m right. - So nary a sound can be uttered a second time, I’ll crush your throat too!

Is it ok to spoil myself? - Is this selfish? This isn’t too much is it?

The strategy is said to be ‘organized’ because the child ‘knows’ exactly what to do with an inconsistently responsive caregiver, ie, exaggerate displays of distress and angry, resistant responses, ‘hoping’ that the marked distress response cannot possibly be missed by the inconsistently responsive caregiver. 

22/06/27 (Amane’s Birthday)

Kazui: What’s up, Shidou-kun? You’re looking pretty down. I guess you must be tired, I’ve been relying on you a lot lately.

Shidou: Yeah, I just remembered…… today is Amane’s birthday.

I’m just getting a bit sentimental.

Kazui: Hmm, it’s unfortunate, but at the moment we can’t worry about that. ……you understand, right? There’s something that you need to do right now. And if you tried talking to her your words definitely won’t reach her. Don’t look at me like that. We’ll just wait until the situation changes. Let’s do our best.

Shidou: Yeah. I’ll do what I can. I can’t have a child making a face like that. Even though we’re “murderers”…… we’re also the adults here.

Q.07 Are there any prisoners you get along with?

Shidou: Kayano-kun has become like that, and I can’t spend my time smoking at the moment. So, the smoking trio has disbanded, which is a bit lonely.

However, this resistant strategy is also ‘insecure’ because it is associated with an increase in the risk for developing social and emotional maladjustment.

However, Mikoto and Amane could also fall under Disorganized Attachment,

Approximately 15% of infants in low psychosocial risk and as many as 82% of those in high-risk situations do not use any of the three organized strategies for dealing with stress and negative emotion. These children have disorganized attachment. One recently identified pathway to children’s disorganized attachment includes children’s exposure to specific forms of distorted parenting and unusual caregiver behaviours that are ‘atypical’. Atypical caregiver behaviours, also referred to as “frightening, frightened, dissociated, sexualized or otherwise atypical”, are aberrant behaviours displayed by caregivers during interactions with their children that are not limited to when the child is distressed. There is evidence to suggest that caregivers who display atypical behaviours often have a history of unresolved mourning or unresolved emotional, physical or sexual trauma, or are otherwise traumatized (eg, post-traumatic stress disorder or the traumatized victim of domestic violence)

As there ways of displaying attachment are not entirely consistent with any of the other three. Plus they have both been confirmed or heavily implied to have dissociative disorders which have been tied to disorganized attachment,

Of the four patterns of attachment (secure, avoidant, resistant and disorganized), disorganized attachment in infancy and early childhood is recognized as a powerful predictor for serious psychopathology and maladjustment in children. Children with disorganized attachment are more vulnerable to stress, have problems with regulation and control of negative emotions, display oppositional, hostile, aggressive behaviours and coercive styles of interaction. Disorganized attachment is over-represented in groups of children with clinical problems and those who are victims of maltreatment (eg, nearly 80% of maltreated infants have disorganized attachment). The combination of disorganization and a parental rating of a difficult temperament is a potent predictor of aggressive behaviour in children at five years of age. In addition, disorganized attachment in infancy has been linked to internalizing and externalizing problems in the early school years, poor peer interactions and unusual or bizarre behaviour in the classroom, and higher teacher ratings of dissociative behaviour and internalizing symptoms in middle childhood. Concurrent disorganized/controlling behaviour rated in the preschool and early school years related to oppositional defiant disorders in boys, parent-rated externalizing and internalizing problems, and high levels of teacher-rated social and behavioural difficulties in class. Children classified as disorganized with their primary caregiver at ages five to seven years have lower mathematics attainment at eight years of age.

These academic problems appear to be mediated through effects on self-esteem and confidence in the academic setting. Children with disorganized attachment have low self-esteem, and at nine years of age are more often rejected by peers. Adolescents who had disorganized attachment with their primary caregiver during infancy have higher levels of overall psychopathology at 17 years of age, and those classified as disorganized at five to seven years of age exhibit impaired formal operational skills and self-regulation at 17 years of age. Finally, children with disorganized attachment are vulnerable to altered states of mind, such as dissociation in young adulthood. 

Now that we've gotten possibly attachment styles out of the way let's talk about one of the other parents who would instill those attachment styles, Amane’s father!

He’s noticeably absent from Purge March. It’s stated on one of the documents seen behind Amane that he’s currently absent because he is out doing missionary work. However, we already know how her father is doing with spreading the word of their church as he's shown in Magic.

This is because her father is represented by Yuri throughout her first MV. 

We know this is a stand in for her father for a few reasons.

One, in Magic when the lines,

“I won’t say, “I’ve had enough.” Will you laugh with me and forgive me?”

Are sung we see this image,

Q.09 Tell us your family structure.

Amane: It was my father, my mother and me.

“I hope, I hope everyone can be happy and smile forever. Forever together would be a dream.”

All she did was dream (about having a better family guys). Just like Kazui,

"I realize the futility, but I still can’t help but dream."

And Mikoto- Sorry getting sidetracked. You all voted that poor girl guilty just because she dreamed of having kinder parents. Haha- I'm fucking with you I'm sorry I know that's not why anybody did that shit that was hyperbole I don't need anyone taking that out of context. I'm really just fucking around because I haven't written in a minute and I'm having fun.

Oh, my god could you imagine if I really thought it was that,

"Let’s keep it simple."

Kazui would be having a ball until the last shoe dropped that's for sure. God I hope he's having a ball because the curtain will be rising one last time eventually.

Until then let's keep swinging to the music.

We also see within the scene with Amane, Riyone, and Yuri that the other two mascots are no longer present. It's just the three of them. Something Star and I previously pointed out was odd since Gachata and Gozake were there the scene prior to this one and return for the credits.

However, as they are representative of Amane’s mothers (Riyone’s) punishment methods it makes sense for them to be gone in this scene.

Because, within a perfect dream world for Amane her mother would be just that her mother. A caretaker who she can have fun around and someone who will take care of her when she's hurt or forgive her when she messes up hence the line,

"Will you laugh with me and forgive me?"

However, the end of Magic shows us that all of that is clearly just a dream. A fantasy of how things could have been that ultimately gets broken down by the reality of the situation until the credits roll and there's nothing really left but to face reality.

Because the shows over and when it ends it's back to real life.

Leaving us with this one snippet of Amane's reality in Magic at the very end of it,

Right before the Milgram credits roll.

Which is honestly the most subtle lead in to the very on the nose display of dissociation we get after and is a scene that goes wildly overlooked. Like do a full watch through of Milgram trial one all together and see Magic and MeMe back to back and you'll see just how well one leads into the other.

One ending on this distorted tv like effect the screen in front of the character reflected in their eyes straight into the tv footage of MeMe. Like that was planning and intent right there. That's only more appreciated in hindsight.

Milgram fans will be like I dissociate to media and then vote the one character who's canonically shown doing that from jump first guilty because she's religious. Mikoto did that shit second. Oh man coming back with self callouts too this will certainly be a day. I didn't appreciate it when I should have. Everyone makes mistakes sometimes.

I'm sorry can you laugh and forgive me. (Amane begins crushing my throat). Look I was born and raised in the cult happy midwest of the USA and don't trust people who advertise they're trying to spread any good word actually ever regardless of what the religion is. I just don't trust like that. Because again when cults and gangs are a prominent issue within your area you're kind of raised not to.

As said earlier, Amane's father is hardly there.

However, Amane's mother may be using his absence to use him as a tool to make Amane more obedient. Or, a better way of phrasing it, more willing to listen to her specific version of their religion. This would offer an explanation as to why there is a picture of him on the back of their front door. It would make it all the more easier for Amane's mother to point at it, citing that she's not acting in accordance to his teachings, or that what she wants Amane to do does. Also explaining why Amane says that she wants her father to praise her in one of her interrogation questions.

Q.13 Who do you want to see right now?

Amane: My father. I want him to praise me for all my hard work.

It explains the discrepancy of her father's presence in Magic when Amane is found helping the cat vs his absence in Purge March.

Since we know in reality that Amane's father was present for any of this but her mom was told after. Yet Yuri is still shown disappointed in the background and Amane has stated one of the goals of her actions was making her father proud. Couple with lines such as,

"I’ve made up my mind so they don’t make that face at me again."

Along with the fact that all of the other mascots faces within Magic are blank and Yuri is the only one visibly disappointed or upset by Amane's behavior. It's pretty likely that this is a case of separate parenting styles and their impacts on Amane being displayed through her songs.

Something Amane brings to the forefront during her first voice drama as she states that her parents would have lectured her for another hour if she were late to such an appointment. Giving the impression that when her parents were both involved in reprimanding her the punishments were a lot less severe.

While making it seem like her father was more prone to voicing disappointment in her not through physical scolding- Something the mascot Yuri is shown to dislike doing but verbally.

Re-contextualizing Amane's repeated lyrics of,

"I swear! I'm going to be a good girl now! That's it!"

As a promise she's making to her dad after having it explained to her why her behavior was wrong or inappropriate. Something that would also give a different meaning to the right answer, wrong answer animation that happens near the beginning of Magic.

Yuri is also the only one of the mascots to not have the cults double cloud symbol on their body. It's only on the collections box he carries. Denoting that her father may not follow the same beliefs as her mom or at least not as strictly.

Then as I brought up before Yuri is the only one to show hesitance when physically punishing Amane. He even appears visibly upset when made to do so. In contrast every other mascot that is used to represent her mother or her mother’s forms of punishment is shown to either be indifferent, disappointed or at peace with delivering these punishments.

I also find it telling that all these punishments are delivered in separate closed off spaces without the others being visibly present when they are cycled through.

Yet, the one time that Yuri is present for a punishment it is the lightest one Amane receives. More than likely representing how her mother knows her behavior is out of line and she does not behave this way when her father is present due to understanding that.

Something already implied through the scenes described and shown above and how they are separated from each other when the harsher punishments occur. Furthermore, despite the punishment being lighter Amane still braces herself expecting her mother’s punishment to be the same as it is when her father is not around.

Then to add onto this instead of looking at Amane Gatchata is instead looking over at Yuri’s to gauge their reaction. Their left pupil being slightly higher than where it would need to be to look at Amane.

Those are all of the reasons I believe Yuri to be a standin for Amane's father.

Now, by this point many have noted that the purple in Amane's eyes is a color unaffiliated with the cult. However, the color is not unaffiliated with Amane or her behavior within this cult environment.

In fact, we see the same color in Magic,

in conjunction with orange.

These colours seem to represent ideals that have been instilled within Amane. Orange being from her father and purple being from the school she attended. These ideals conflict with her mother's teachings, so would lead to long term conflicts between Amane and her mother. As talked about above and within the previous posts, her mother's and father's teachings don't fully align.

Amane is also alluded to watch a tv program which prominently features a character called a "Healthy Tomboy".

As you can see, this character (as depicted in Magic) has band-aids for ears. Implying that one of the reoccurring themes of the show is to teach how to provide light medical aid to those that may need it (for example... maybe tying a handkerchief around a cut to prevent infection and further bleeding?).

This plays into Shidou asking Amane to help him when she confronts him on his behavior,

22/10/24 (Shidou’s Birthday) Amane: ……Kirisaki Shidou. How long do you plan on continuing this foolish behaviour? Shidou: I wonder what you might be referring to there. I’m just doing what I need to do. If anything, I’d be happy if you would lend me a hand. Amane: I warned you. I can no longer turn a blind eye to this wickedness taking place right in front of us. You’re bringing ruin unto yourself. Do you understand? Shidou: No, I don’t understand. It’s my job as an adult to teach you that throwing a temper tantrum isn’t going to make everything go your way. If it’s a test of endurance you want, I’m happy to oblige, Amane.

There is also just the matter of what she would learn at school, such as things like science and biology. Incidentally, kids being taught things like this at school is why in the states, deeply religious families choose to home school their children instead of allowing them to go to a public school. As it gives them a larger degree of control of what exactly their kids learn and internalize. However, this is something that is not allowed in Japan, thus not an option either of Amane's parents are able to choose.

( Star here! Learning about science and biology would highlight how you could help with preventable issues and how leaving said issues to fester could make things worse for the person experiencing them. This would probably stick with Amane, as a long standing trait that we've seen her have is compassion.

Furthermore, this would be exasperated both by the fact that Amane's father doesn't seem to stay at home very often and the implication that she was very much favoured by him when he was around. This might have led to Amane's mother not only taking out her upset at the disconnect between her and her daughter but also a twisted envy/frustration at Amane taking her husband's attention. Which, I need to specify, isn't a good reason to abuse a child but it does add context.)

5. The Threat All the Prisoners Pose

Now we're going to speed through this one by one. Because there are a lot of threats the prisoners pose and also I'm on a deadline because Haruka's birthday is today!

So to make this easier on myself let's talk about the risk of each prisoner alongside how much of a threat Haruka can be considered to them based on his own admission.

Since he states with not much prompting that he can kill anything smaller than him.

"...You're. You're so mean... I, I-I can kill anything that's smaller than me, you know!"

Before attempting to attack Es. Which people loved to forget during his trial but Amane with those scissors am I right? Like I know she's Innocent and he's guilty but like in hindsight... I really didn't see this aspect of his case being discussed or highlighted as much.

Especially when it came to arguing for him being guilty where this information would be the most helpful for pushing the idea that he should have been. Honestly I wasn't making that argument myself I was in favor of a 50/50 or innocent again because clearly people changing their opinion of him is very triggering to him.

Yet I wasn't that involved with the fandom back then. I was more just starting and this blog didn't even exist yet. So maybe others did argue that and I didn't see it.

However, most of the arguments in favor of him being guilty were more focused on either his safety or Mu's. Something I wouldn't point out so heavily if the same thing didn't happen with Mikoto as well. Where a lot of people conveniently forgot he spent his first voice drama wringing Es out like a wet rag and slapping 'em against pavement.

Haruka is 174cm or 5"7. Meaning by his own admission he is a threat to whatever is beneath that height.

Jackalope: 80cm

Threat Level: COULD BE KILLED BY HARUKA

Jackalope is a tiny animal we see Haruka kill many throughout his songs. Chances are since we haven't gotten an end of trial commencement notice he may be dead. Would that be fucked up or what. However, Jackalope states in es' voices drama that the prisoners cannot attack administrators. Something that Jackalope himself is. So put away the cake, the party poppers, and balloons. Jackalope is either being lazy or watching the messiest shit imaginable and laughing his as off.

He's not going anywhere anytime soon unless- Mikoto can attack administrators let's hope he doesn't get a taste for rabbit. Amane and Jackalope seem to be accomplices so if Haruka did successfully attack Jackalope that would explain why in his headphone lines he's apologizing to Amane. Because he would be well aware she liked Jackalope by this point.

But it's not very likely because the barrier did stop Haruka from attacking Es in his second voice drama. So, it would more than likely serve the same function for Jackalope.

Es: 157cm

Threat Level: MENACE PRISON GUARD (YOU CAN'T KILL ME STUPID)

Literally states in Haruka's second voice drama despite spending most of Mikoto's first one getting spun like a hula-hoop that Haruka can't kill them due to the barrier that had already failed once. So, Es lucky it worked this time and they were in fact correct. Mikoto could still in fact jump Es. Because he is unrestrained to Jackalope's admission and the verdict he received did nothing to change that fact.

So, we just have to trust he won't do anything wrong which definitely worked with the prisoner he's paired with first trial. But I'm fine with wrong being done in the right direction and sometimes that's all you can really hope for on this bitch of an earth. I'm not responsible for what this dude does with his freedom anyhow.

Yuno: 156cm- 5"1

THREAT LEVEL: COULD BE KILLED BY HARU-HM UH MAYBE NOT...?

It's highlighted in Yuno's first voice drama that her attitude would not change even if Es was a large individual using violence against her.

Yuno: Isn’t it odd? Even though you’re a prison guard, you’re about my age, aren’t you? Or even a little younger?

Don’t care.

Yuno: Look, look. It’s impossible, isn’t it? To break out in a cold sweat over a face that cute.

Huh?

Yuno: [giggles] Even if you furrow your brows like that, it’s not gonna happen.

Frustrating and disagreeable beyond belief! Not to mention, I can counter your point.

Yuno: Oh, oh. Let’s hear it then?

If I were a strong man, who tried to control you with violence, I don’t think your attitude would change even then.

Yuno: Hm. Sure. Sounds about right.

Right? It’s… your very own temperament which is the problem! Therefore, this has nothing to do with my appearance. Absolutely nothing to do with it!

Yuno: Getting super worked up over it, aren’t you? Well, that’s okay. So, that concludes the first round!

Something she fully states is just about right. Not denying the assumption at all.

So, if Haruka can kill anything smaller than him then Yuno might just be able to kill anything larger than her. I'm interested to see Haruka try but like in the same way I'm interested in seeing a stoat fight a rabbit I know the stoats going to win. I'd be more surprised if it didn't.

I would not recommend anyone other than Kazui, Mahiru, or Mikoto fight Yuno. Even then it'd be tentatively like only if you have to but maybe just fucking avoid doing that.

Not making Yuno you're enemy is much more beneficial than any reward from having a conflict with her is worth. Because chances are you have a conflict with her you're losing your life too. She has admitted that no one is important to her even herself. She does not care she has gone on record saying I don't matter and neither do you.

Yuno is the type who will die on that hill with you but make sure you stop breathing first. Then if by some miracle she lives she's probably not even gonna be happy about it.

Her response to Mikoto's fight was to marvel at his strength.

"Also, Mikoto-san was also attacked but apparently it ended up in something of a draw. That guy was strong, huh—how unexpected."

Then call Kotoko an idiot for acting violently where everyone could see. Naw, I'm not fucking with her, I don't know if Haruka could kill her or not. I doubt it but it would definitely be a square up.

I just wouldn't recommend anyone fuck with her like at all. Just don't bother her.

Also she may kill Mu. Because Mu simply refuses or does not know how to read a room/take a hint and stop bothering her but I've discussed that before.

Fuuta: 165cm- 5"4

Threat Level: AN EYE FOR AN EYE (COULD BE KILLED BY HARUKA)

He could be killed by Haruka but seems to be on good terms with him. So, I don't think he would be attacked by Haruka. However, he is planning to attack Kotoko, along with possibly Shidou, and Mikoto.

Kotoko did a good job of making enemies with her actions in response to trial one and Futa is reactionary. He partakes in reactionary violence it would not suprise me if he tried to attack her.

Look when people start talking like,

Q.12 Are there any prisoners you don’t get on with?

Futa: Can you not tell by looking at my face? Obviously Kotoko.

Then maybe they just have an issue with that person and may act on it.

Yet, maybe this is a situation where being apart of whatever Amane has going on will make it so he can't do that. Since it goes against the tenants recited in Purge March. He'd only be able to react to a wrong done to him after this point unless him and Amane are both petty. Which at that point we have a different set of issues entirely.

However, it seems that Futa and Amane are more absorbed with Shidou's actions which given Shidou has been abundantly clear about extracting that fang. People should be hoping he's jumped by a middle schooler and a college student.

Makes Kotoko's life a bit easier honestly.

Muu: 162cm- 5"3

Threat Level: MOM

She's Haruka's mom if he didn't kill the one in the mvs (to our knowledge currently) I'm not that concerned about her safety when it comes to Haruka. She seems to mostly be trying to make herself useful while not handling her verdict as well as she could be.

However, since she's focused on making use of herself, chances are she's not going to be interested in causing any trouble. Because that would be counterproductive to displaying her worth in this instance. Now, since most of her utility hinges on taking care Haruka that creates a conflict of interest when it comes to him possibly dying.

Because no one else needs her. So, if Haruka were to die, she may react poorly to that. Even though she said she supported him in all his endeavors because that's what friends do. This was also one of the reasons I thought the continued foreshadowing of the suicide was odd because it would be incredibly unhelpful to Mu if he did do that.

Like that's actually just not going to help her at all and it doesn't seem like something he wants to do. It also doesn't really cover why it took him so long to plan it and why he would need to tell others ahead of doing it. The only thing that explains the amount of time it's taken is that we were expressedly told nothing noteworthy is able to happen until after the trial.

Mu does seem to be upset with Yuno and projecting the same animosities/expectations she had for her victim onto her. So, that's an issue to look out for. Oh, she seems a bit jealous of Mahiru, which has been a consistent thing. Mahiru is also still in a very vulnerable position because Shidou is simply a bad doctor, so she would be easy to kill.

Shidou: 180cm- 5"9

Threat Level: IS THERE A DOCTOR IN THE HOUSE?!

Couldn't be killed by Haruka based on Haruka's own logic. Because he's larger than him. However, he can in fact catch heat from that middle schooler that's half Haruka's size. I don't know what Amane has planned but I think that shit would be hilarious. Haruka is five foot seven Amane is four foot seven.

I don't think Haruka should have tapped out so early. He needs to expand his horrizons. He could kill Shidou. Hell, if they all work together- I'm sorry, but no, Shidou has a serious target on his back.

Not just from Futa and Amane but Kotoko as well. He pretty much successfully attempted to take her position and cemented himself as indispensable to Es something she failed to do. I don't defend Kotoko a lot (when I do, I am simply the best at it), but if she did kill him I would understand why.

The dude isn't hiding the fact that he kills kids and he's been innocent twice. He doesn't even seem remorseful from her perspective it could really appear that Shidou is taking advantage of Es because they're a child. Something she could view as him doing with his victims before this as well, depending on the knowledge she has.

Which is honestly the same thing she was doing but she dislikes herself as well to an extent. So, that's not saving him at all. On top of that, he's actively stated that he has issues with her repeatedly,

Q.06 Do you forgive Kotoko?

Shidou: No. I can’t forgive someone for trying to achieve things with violence.

Mahiru: 154cm- 5"

Threat level: INCAPACITATED???

We haven't seen her move from Shidou's sight in over a year. Her verdict changed to innocent and we have no implication of her getting better. The funniest shit that could happen is she kills Shidou for being a bad doctor. I don't know if she would and currently her mental health seems to be more of a longstanding issue. But ya know I think she should be allowed to kill in Milgram just a small bit.

I mean I really wish she could-

*the monkey paw curls a finger and she kills Mikoto*

Ah, shit I really need to stop leaving that out! The only prisoner that Mahiru has actually had an issue with is Mikoto. She doesn't seem to get along with him that well and accuses him of being a cheater off rip. On top of that their relationship hasn't seemed to improve any.

Plus, there's that one answer from trial two on Mikoto's end-

Q07. What are your thoughts about Mahiru?

Mikoto: How cruel. To think "I" did something like that, I can't believe it.

So, ah ehh who am I to say... Like that was weird wonder what that was about.

Kazui: 186cm- 6"1

Threat Level: IF MILGRAM WAS AN ALL OUT BRAWL! (Can't be killed by Haruka)

Though if we all work together as Mikoto has recommended to Kotoko- Kazui could get fucked up. Kicking Kazui's ass is a team sport. (Star: A contact sport too! :D) As Kazui said himself if Mikoto and Kotoko worked together he would be fucked.

Who knows, maybe because Mikoto was found innocent this trial by Milgram's own rules, the ones Kotoko claims to respect... Well, maybe she might work with him. And Kazui can still get his ass kicked after all. If not he has blatantly stated that Yuno is bothering him it may not be enough to act on it, but that's really the only complaint he's had, which is kind of odd.

Considering Kotoko jumped people which he did have complaints about too. But really, he's just been relaxing. I don't really know what he might do. It just seems like, at this point, he really is waiting for this to be over.

Amane: 144cm- 4"7

Threat Level: DON'T RUN WITH SCISSORS! (Could be killed by Haruka)

She only wants to kill Shidou. I don't even think she'll really be able to do that, considering there are a lot of interpersonal dynamics at play that we simply aren't completely aware of. Because a lot of the prisoners have been remaining pretty private, including Amane herself. Since she's been having Futa go around for the most part trying to convince others to join her cause.

Now, do I think she definitely couldn't kill Shidou? No. Not really. I think she could do it if she really tried. Like put all her effort into it. Yet she recognizes she would need help.

Amane has not lied about her distaste for Shidou's behavior.

However, Shidou is a man in his thirties at this point. The fact that he was willing to have a longstanding altercation with a middle schooler for any reason makes him someone not worthy of my respect. He can't respect kids, himself, his career, or his loved ones. Nothing will ever make up for the emptiness that fills that man and the worst thing about Amane wanting to kill him in my eyes-

Is the fact that he came in here wanting to be killed by a kid to begin with. I take no satisfaction in the idea that his desire may be granted. He is an irresponsible selfish man-child who would sooner let Amane kill him by jumping on the scissors she had multiple times and call that atonement than actually try to live.

Outside of that, Amane hasn't really threatened anyone else. I don't personally consider the idea of Shidou getting what he wanted from the start an actual threat. Because again, that's what he wanted.

Mikoto: 176cm- 5"7

Threat Level: UNRESTRAINED (Can't be killed by Haruka)

He's unrestrained, still. That is why he was given the restraints he was in within his second voice drama. He doesn't have to play by Milgram's rules, which plays into Kotoko calling his existence a sin during the birthday interaction she had with him.

Because his existence is literally going against Milgram's rules to an extent.

Do I think that's dangerous? No, for various reasons I've given before. If Mikoto or the other one wasn't restrained by Milgram's rules the entire trial and they didn't take that opportunity to hurt anyone here. Then, chances are Mikoto still won't do that even over the course of the intermission.

However, I'm not so optimistic or invested in Mikoto's good image to not admit- That he very easily could have chosen not to do anything during the trial to give himself more credibility. Then continue to excuse anything he does later as being the others personalities fault. It's not likely that this will not work because his second trial hung on the fact that depending on the verdict he received Mikoto (the prisoner brought into Milgram) wouldn't be around anymore if he was voted guilty and things would calm down if he were innocent.

So, simalrly to Mu, he to has a vested interest in not causing any trouble to make that appear to be the case. I can't imagine him doing anything out in the open where everyone could see.

Which brings me to my next point,

Whatever happens during this intermission has been consistently foreshadowed as things that will happen in the open and things that will happen behind closed doors.

Ultimately up to the discretion of the prisoners.

Kotoko: 171cm- 5"6

Threat Level: VIGILANTE THROUGH AND THROUGH

Vigilantes work in the shadows outside of the accepted law of the land.

Kotoko knew how to work discretely before being brought into Milgram. She may have only done the things she did so openly because she was voted innocent from the get-go. Now, she may realize that doing things the way she did was a mistake and she overplayed her hand. That as she implied in her second voice drama and mv people enjoy when others get what they deserve but don't want to feel directly responsible or connected to their downfall in any way. Meaning there's a good chance she'll just do what she did before Milgram and take matters into her own hands.

It wouldn't be anything new for her.

Yet, at the same time, it wouldn't make things easy for her either. That wouldn't be anything new since she's always been the sort to know that the road she chose to walk isn't an easy one and wouldn't make her well liked.

So, I don't really know how much that will deter her now.

Long story short, anyone could do anything at any time. That's just how people are in general. Instead of trying to predict how someone will move if you do x or y people should try to think about what they most want to do themselves instead. At least, that's the easiest way I've found to avoid having regrets.

Now excuse Star and I as we go pass out!

[frownyalfred]

I am hoping you can help me better understand something about my Zach Snyder feelings, because I know you have enjoyed his work.

I have conflicting feelings and I THINK it comes down to a different imagery language and some unnamed thing in his storytelling. It's mostly the unnamed thing I'm trying to ID.

When I describe broadly the plots, character motivation (obviously as I understand them), and events, I find myself very interested in his movies and what they have to say. Then I rewatch and I don't feel the same way. It feels dark (desaturation or whatever that filter is called), overly dramatic in a way that feels cartoonist or silly instead of meaningful, or boring and slow. There are some engaging moments some that are action some that are pretty or funny. However, few that move/engage me.

I know people often love or hate Snyder but I mostly feel his movies exist, have a few interesting elements but overall if they weren't about characters I was interested in, I just wouldn't watch. I don't hate or love it. I don't think it's the greatest or the worst.

Example of a storytelling concept that I get and liked in theory but not execution. The Martha, why did you say that name moment. Snyder is connecting Bruce to Clark's "humanity" in a way that hits Bruce in a place where he is always vulnerable and is primal/basic. When people mock this scene I have the urge to defend because I understand (in my way) what he was going for, but I can't because at no point in watching or rewatching that scene do I feel that. Even though he rehashed the Wayne's death in the beginning, then connects back to it during their fight about what his parent's taught Bruce. It still FEELS out of place and "falsely" dramatic.

That's all I can think to give as an example and not make this longer (sorry this is long). But if my descriptions click something for you as a writer and fan of Snyder, please let me know. I just don't know what it is about his storytelling and it's annoying to not understand why there is this disconnect.

Thank you for your patience, if you even get thru this, LOL.

I'm not a film major and I am definitely no expert, but I've been thinking about this ask. I agree with a lot of what you brought up, though it is hard to describe what that exact disconnect is with Snyder's films, and you'll get a million different opinions depending on who you ask.

To me, Snyder's DC films always feel like movies that were excellent plots on paper wrapped around a series of interesting and awe-inducing visuals and scores. There are scenes he does well -- one of my favorites being the initial scene in BVS where Bruce runs into the Battle of Metropolis -- almost because they feel like a separate, isolated moment in his script. There are scenes that drag, exposition dump, and feel dark and strange.

There seems to be a disconnect between him, the writer, and him, the director. He's good at both, don't get me wrong -- but there's something missing in between.

People on reddit will tell you the problem with BVS, at the end of the day, is all the plot holes or the cheesy dialogue. I mostly disagree. Especially after seeing Oppenheimer recently, I think Snyder struggles with building and maintaining the pace of his plot and the emotions he's trying to cultivate in his viewers. Continuity is key -- scenes building up on each other, revealing new layers of meaning and importance, leaving viewers guessing only on the least-obvious plot points.

He has all the pieces -- decent dialogue, powerhouse actors, amazing CGI, a script most people wouldn't laugh at on paper -- but they don't quite form a whole.

I did a quick review of some the things I like about BVS, thinking through this ask, and I think it's pretty revealing that most of those things are pieces, not overall themes.

The Battle of Metropolis flashback

Ben Affleck visually as Bruce Wayne

Lex's scenes with the Senator

The score

Kryptonite/Training scene

Lex's entry into Zod's ship

Diana

Bruce at the fundraiser

Warehouse fight scene

Alfred's dialogue

Lakehouse shots

Knightmare scene

As for the Martha scene, my inclination is that it's rarely out of place or strange when written correctly. In fics, I've seen it done very well. But Snyder doesn't use it for what it is -- a climax of Bruce Wayne's anger and misguided actions -- because he never truly brought the viewer all the way along with Bruce.

TL;DR: I don't know either. But I agree and commiserate with you on this. I still enjoy watching BVS and other Snyder films, but seeing other films -- especially Nolan's, which I'm not saying are theoretically better -- makes the difference very jarring.

[poisonousquinzel]

I'm sorry, why are fuck are folks celebrating a w/w kiss with Gaga's "Harley/Harleen" as if the chick wasn't literally telling her she's going to hell and Gaga's character kissed her idk to piss her off???

Whoo, gay "Harley" but it's an unconsenting kiss, yeah we really fucking won 💀

Also, just this entire scene they've been filming just screams Punchline tbf and it only continues to solidify my opinion that this Should have been Alexis' live action debut. Harley's moved fucking past him, it's long since time other media forms catch the fuck up. And it's not as if there's just No other character they could have used for this, as Punchline has existed for a couple of years now.

Or am I supposed to just pretend that all these panels don't exist??

Punchline - The Trial of Alexis Kaye

Those aren't just random people who're out to support Gaga in clown masks, they're extras and they're dressed like that for a reason. A Lot of the like 700 reported extras they have for that scene are there because they support her or Joker.

You can see part of a sign in the last image of Gaga that says "Marry me xoxo", not exactly a hateful crowd for the most part.

it's only "Harley" because of the colors and blonde hair. Nothing would change if they swapped the role and called the character Alexis.

And her character would fit this fucking perfectly, the world, the time her introduction would happen after the city went up in chaos, like it would make sense. She's Got Fans. She's got followers, because she's a newer age villain who knows how to use the internet to her advantage.

But no, instead they're dragging Harley back 3 fucking decades of development that live actions fans Barely have seen, gutting the core of her character and (apparently) shoving her in Arkham as a patient rather than a psychiatrist all so they can profit off her popularity and her name.

It's gross, and I hate this.

"Joker has a new love?"

I am never going to know peace with this fucking movie in production and neither is Harley.

[miraruinada]

"Phew... I'm alive again."

"Are you sure? Have you need of anything else? Surely water and food isn't enough. Please rest up before we have to continue with this mission."

"...I didn't think you'd worry this much about a random peasant."

"All of humanity are my subjects. As the symbol of authority and the name of the king, it is my duty to make sure all my subjects are well, otherwise I am not fit to rule. Of course I'd worry over you."

"Oh, that's very... I'm sorry for doubting your loyalty to the people."

Ayalu's character has grown due to the events of Sinsabores.

"Besides, you're six foot four of straight peasant powerhouse! Who's going to drag my divine coffin around if not you?"

"There it is."

Not by much.

[sweetbillwriting]

A Thousand Leaves

Part 5 - The Savior

Description: A local news reporter wants to know everything about the young man that has been found imprisoned in a basement. While she searches for answers, her relationship with the young man becomes more and more complicated.

Characters: The character Henry is inspired by several of Bill Skarsgård's characters but mostly The Kid from Castle Rock. The rest are my own original characters.

Setting: The story is set in the early 90s in nameless towns.

Warnings: 18+, abuse, religion, sexism, profanity, smut, cheating, jealousy, violence.

Notes: This chapter can be triggering.

Kevin Munro was a big man. Tall and wide and filled up the doorway when he opened the door. Irma looked at the big man in fear first, he was bearded and looked like a man in distress but when she looked at him closely she could see the sad eyes and confusement. 

"Hello, my name is Irma Kiehl, I am a reporter and I was wondering if I could ask you some questions?" Said she softly and stretched out her hand. 

He looked between her hand and her face then shook his head. 

"I'm not interested," he said shortly and tried to close the door but Irma stood in the way, she knew most people didn't want to hurt another so by standing in the way he wouldn't close the door. 

"Please, it's about Henry Deaver?" 

He stopped in his movement and opened the door again. He looked at her with wide eyes and dragged his hand over the doorknob over and over. 

"He lives in my town now and some things happened around him?" 

She didn't mention the cage because such a thing might make the man feel sorry for him and then he wouldn't tell her as much. She said the town’s name when she didn't get a reaction and Kevin nodded slowly. 

"So that's where he is…" He said and let go of the doorknob. He stepped back into the house and Irma followed him even if he hadn't invited her. The house was big and beautiful but messy and had a smell of sweat and dust. 

"So you know him?" She asked and looked at the man sitting down on a white leather couch. He grunted and took out a cigarette from a pack on the coffee table. 

"I don't think anyone knew that boy, some just believed they did… He was…" he interrupted himself with a deep sigh and took a drag of the cigarette. Irma waited for him to continue but he didn't so she thought she must lead him to tell her the story. 

"Were you in the church when Henry came to town?" 

Kevin laughed unamused and played with the string in his sweatpants. 

"You mean that staged entrance? Showing off like he was some fucking celebrity?" 

He shook his head to himself. "Anything to impress the right people…" 

Irma felt her heartbeat, she had something here. It was obvious Kevin didn't like Henry. Maybe he had something to do with Henry's imprisonment? 

"Who were the right people?" She asked and gave him a searching stare. He smirked a little and she could see how his feelings for speaking with her changed, he wanted to tell her everything. 

"The young… The women. The women… He led the choir and he arranged painting classes. They had parties… They loved him. Too fucking much." He looked around at the house so Irma did the same. She could see frames with pictures of a child but also a wedding picture and a beautiful picture of a blonde woman in her late thirties. "They left me, because of him." 

××× 

Kevin remembered all too well when Henry barged into the church loudly. Someone else had gone in quietly, respecting God's room but instead he let it fill with his own aura. He came in, stomping in heavy boots and dragged his hand through sleazy hair. Kevin just thought that he looked like an idiot, a criminal that had learned to play the piano in prison but when he thought about whispering to his wife under his palm some well chosen words about Henry's looks he saw her look at him with big eyes. It looked like she was gazing at his biceps and the broad collarbones showing under the outstretched t-shirts collar. He couldn't believe his well groomed wife looked at such a guy like that. By coincidence he looked at his eighteen year old daughter looking at the young man the same way, she even bit her lip. His innocent daughter looked at the boy with such desire Kevin felt himself blush. He felt mortified. Saw what whores his girls had become just by seeing a guy dressed in leather? 

He looked around worriedly but then realized other wives and daughters had similar expressions as his family. The husbands either sat with lowered heads or looked as upset as himself, but the boys, the younger one also looked at Deaver with big eyes but in another way. Would it be cool to be a church musician now? 

A week later he watched his wife put on her best earrings with her soft cashmere sweater while he sat in front of the typewriter. 

"Where are you going?" He said with furrowed brows. It was six pm on a Saturday night and she hadn't even made dinner. 

"Are you coming, mom?" His daughter Eve stood in the door opening to the bedroom. She wore a short skirt and a polka dotted blouse. It was obvious the both of them were dolled up. Kevin looked at the women confused. He wondered if he had missed something, if he should also change. 

"We have joined the church choir, Henry…" his wife stopped and looked away. "He has new thoughts about the choir and it sounds really interesting. Right honey?" She turned to their daughter who nodded with a small smile. 

Kevin looked at them upset and clenched his jaw until he couldn't hold the anger. 

"With that punk?? Do you want to be close to that one?! He probably has all sorts of diseases!" He hit his fist on the typewriter so hard he would use up his White Out to fix the writing. His wife just rolled her eyes and walked towards their daughter. 

"Oh, well, I'm sure he isn't as big of an idiot as you," she said and left the bedroom. Kevin sat in shock. He couldn't understand at all that his family wanted to be close to a guy who looked like such bad news. 

It started with Saturday evenings but soon his wife and daughter were away three nights a week to be a part of the activities Henry arranged. He felt alone and abandoned when he sat with his TV-dinner. He missed his wife's cooking but even when she was home she had started to get lazy. She cooked just the simple things while he missed the roasts and french stews. All her energy seemed to go to paint ugly cats and sing about The Savior. 

He wasn't the only one with that problem and more and more of the men in the town sought support in each other to understand what was happening. They looked at Henry with killer stares when he came into the church in his tight denim and oversized shirts. Sometimes he let half of the buttons be open and instead of getting looks of disgust the women watched him with sex in their eyes. The men tried to talk to the priest, make him fire the Deaver boy but Priest Blom swallowed hard and just said that he couldn't. He didn't give any more explanation than that. They noticed that he showed himself less and less and it was probably because of the men's threats. They wanted Henry gone especially when the women started to divorce their men one after one. It was Henry's fault, they all knew it. 

××× 

Irma looked around in the living room that was dirty and smelled like old cheese. She understood what had happened to Kevin and probably many other men in the town. Henry had in some way made the women understand they could have better than husbands that just wanted dinner and a warm bed partner and they had divorced them and left the town. She looked at Kevin who looked smaller now when she saw the whole story. Henry wasn't evil, he was a handsome, creative church musician that saw the neglected women and made them search for a better life. She didn't hear anything in the story that made Henry bad but Kevin sounded like a small man. 

When Irma had left, Kevin Munro sat still on the white couch. He looked at the pictures surrounding him and swallowed tears. Henry Deaver had taken away his wife and daughter. He had made them leave him. He noticed that the female reporter didn't understand. She probably thought it sounded like he had scared his family away but that wasn't it. Henry was evil and other men in the town could tell her the same thing. He wanted to tell her everything but there were parts of the story he tried to deny but now started to think about again… 

××× 

Before Henry he would have come home to a well cleaned house smelling of thyme and garlic and a bright smile from his beautiful wife but in the last six months that had changed. It was the young church musician that got her smiles and at home she once again made some tired looking mac and cheese. Kevin was irritated by all of it but everytime he said something about it his wife would repeat "Henry says…" like he was the new priest. He was in his twenties and couldn't know anything about life, just about motorcycles and water colors. It wasn't worth fighting with his wife because compared to Henry he was always the bad guy. 

That day when he came home he was prepared on meeting a note that said Esther and Eve were at the church and food was in the oven but instead a sound made him furrow his brows while he hung up his coat. It was clearly a man breathing heavily and then a wet sound. It sounded like someone was playing with something wet in their hand. 

"Hello?" Said Kevin carefully and looked into the kitchen. He could smell cigarettes and wondered if his wife had also started to smoke, Henry probably had that bad habit too. 

"Hello?” He said again and looked into the dining room. He heard then that the sounds were clearly coming from the living room and it was also then he heard a female giggle. He stopped just when he was about to walk into the living room. Suddenly his blood got cold. Was it kissing sounds? Smacking lips? 

His heart beated hard in his chest and to make it stop he just wanted to see what the sound came from. The couch stood around the corner and when he had walked around it he clearly saw Henry sitting with his head leaned back in the white couch and smoking a cigarette. One of his booted feet sat on top of the coffee table and between his legs sat a woman, clearly doing some kind of job for him. Kevin's first reaction was just to stare, his wife had never given him oral sex but here she was now sat between Henry's long legs slurping like it was a popsicle. 

"Esther?!" He screamed. He wanted her to feel ashamed, to feel humiliated but she didn't even turn around, just made some sweet sounds and continued bobbing her head. Henry looked up at Kevin but didn't smile. Kevin met his eyes and the only thing he could see was darkness, darkness eating up the light surrounding him.

"Esther?!" He screamed again and it made her look up groggily but it wasn't his wife. It was his daughter. His beautiful eighteen year old daughter Eve. He could see how she held Henry's manhood with both hands and her lips wet with saliva. She looked up at Henry who dragged his fingers through her blonde hair and with a giggle he made her lick his tip...

"What the fuck…!! Whore!!" Kevin screamed and pulled Eve away from Henry by her hair. She screamed in pain but Kevin was like possessed and slapped her face hard. 

"Your little fucking slut! My daughter doesn't do things like that! My daughter isn't a whore!" He screamed so loudly it was a wonder the neighbors didn't hear. Eve laid on the floor, holding her cheek in her hands and cried heavy tears of fear and shame. Kevin turned to Henry to give him a taste of his anger but when he turned to Henry he could feel the embarrassment and humiliation taking over. Henry still sat with his hard cock out and dragged a hand over the impressive size. 

"Is it your turn now Kevin? You can lick my balls if you want to?" Henry looked at him with black eyes and smirked. Kevin stood dumbfounded. He couldn't find words and felt even worse when he actually realized he couldn't stop watching Henry play with his cock. Henry laughed and stood up and when he zipped up his jeans Kevin felt a strong emotion of shame. He had actually been disappointed when he didn't get to continue to watch Henry touch himself. His cock was the sort he had imagined Jesus Christ having; big, pink with a beautiful pattern of veins. 

Henry put out his cigarette in the ashtray and then he left, without giving either Eve or Kevin a second glance. Kevin looked after him a while before remembering his abuse of his daughter. In panic he turned to where she had been laying but she wasn't there. He dragged his hands over his face and through his hair in desperation and then he started to look for her in the house but the desperation started to disappear when he didn't find her but instead found a note he had expected to find. 

"Me and Eve are at the church's book club. Food is in the oven." 

Kevin sat down on the couch and looked around in confusion. In front of him lay a cigarette package and there were three cigarette butts in the ashtray but otherwise there was no signs either Henry or his daughter had been there. He sat on the couch until his family came home and the girls laughed together. 

"Dad, I got an A on the math test today," said Eve and smiled towards him when she came in through the door of the living room. He looked at her confused and worried but then smiled. 

"That's lovely honey…" 

She smiled a little but for a second Kevin thought he saw something else in her eyes and how she looked at the spot next to him where Henry had been sitting. Where she had sucked his cock like a greedy whore… 

××× 

Kevin still didn't know if it had happened or not and he didn't want to ask. To even try to spell out blowjob and child abuse was just too much and he would never put in his mouth and not when he actually have had thoughts to put something in his mouth, by looking at Henry. He tried to shrug it off and said to himself it had never happened but two weeks later his wife and daughter packed their bags and left him. He had a final argument with his wife over the phone where she accused him for being a worthless husband and father but also once again said, "Henry says…" 

For Kevin it was obvious Henry had put this idea in their heads and he wanted to kill the man for it but everytime he saw him he instead thought about the image of him on his white couch and the shame made him hide from the young man instead. He didn't do anything about it and in turn chose to stay in his house more and more but even then he sometimes looked at the spot where Henry had been sitting and felt himself get hard. 

××× 

Irma didn't know if she should laugh or cry because of Kevin Munro's story. It was petty shit. Henry had probably just been a friend to his wife but he wanted someone to blame his own mistakes on. It gave Kevin motive to take Henry hostage but Irma couldn't see it. Kevin wasn't actionable enough to do such a thing, he wasn't even able to try to save his marriage. 

He had given her name and numbers to other men in the town that had been through the same thing but Irma threw it in the closest garbage bin. Talking with a bunch of sexist men wouldn't lead anywhere, the only one she was interested to talk with was the priest. Father Blom. He might have another story to tell, a perspective that didn't was about hurt manly ego. He had chosen to let Henry stay even if the men threatened him. He must have seen something else. 

The most logical place to search after a priest was the church so Irma drove around the town to find it. It didn't really look like a church, if she didn't know she would have believed it was some sort of garage. It was made of orange bricks, a flat roof and had just small windows on the top of the walls. Irma shook her head to herself but walked up to the ugly building. The entrance was locked. She thought a church was always open. 

"Eyy!" Shouted someone behind her. It was a young man on a bike. "Haven't you heard?" He asked with a smirk. 

"What?" Said Irma, a bit annoyed that the guy shouted at her. 

"He has been arrested! Blom!" The man laughed and prepared himself to pedal on the bike again. 

"What? For what?" Said Irma and stood frozen outside of the church. 

The guy shrugged his shoulders. 

"I have my guesses." He said, at the same time he pedaled away on his bike. 

"Wait!" Shouted Irma and ran while the guy rode away. "Do you know Henry Deaver?" 

"I did! Nice guy!" He just shouted back before disappearing around a corner. 

××× 

Irma took the car from the lonesome town and drove to her own one. Compared to Henry's old town, hers was much more alive and fun, even if it was so sleepy. It was a happier place, the town she left felt sad, even the trees. 

She thought about the priest and Kevin Munro. The priest, had he been arrested for kidnapping Henry? In that case, why did he do it? He seemed to be on Henry's side. She shook her head to herself when she thought about Kevin. Henry had been through a lot just because he had been a good friend, an inspiring person. Irma looked out on the autumn landscape with a sigh. She missed him. She really missed him and she wanted to show him that she was on his side. Because of that she drove to her parents, hoping to see him. She walked through the door and heard her mother's soft voice. It came from the living room. 

"Hello!" She shouted but she didn't get an answer. For some reason she got a bad feeling but she still dared to walk into the living room. Her mother sat on the edge of the couch while Henry laid down. She looked at them with furrowed brows when she saw that Henry wore something that looked like mittens. 

"Oh so good that you are here," said her mother and stood up. She walked up to her daughter who looked at Henry. He was so pale and had a shine to his skin. He didn't look good at all. 

"How is he?" She said worriedly to her mother but started to walk towards Henry. Her mom stopped her and pulled her away again. 

"It's not good… It's not good at all… The wounds in his hands and feet just get bigger and bigger and he bleeds through everything. We have been at the hospital but they don't understand what it is." Bea looked worried with glassy eyes. 

"What? But… is it some sort of disease?" Irma said in a panic. 

"They don't know. They stitched it up and seemed to believe it would stop but it didn't. We must go back there as soon as your dad comes back from the store. But… I think it is stigmata, that's the only thing that makes sense." 

Her mother had spoken about stigmata before, wounds similar to Jesus god fearing people could get, martyrs and saints. Irma instead had her own theory. 

"I think it must be something the kidnapper did to him. I think the kidnapper was a priest," said Irma and nodded to herself. 

"A priest? No, no. The only thing Henry had told us today is that he wants to visit a church. He can't have a priest as a kidnapper. And also, the wounds don't heal! It isn't a worldly creation!" 

Irma looked at her mother first annoyed but then realized her own theory was too simple. His wounds didn't heal. 

Together the women walked towards Henry again and sat by his side like two faithful disciples. Irma wished she could take one of his hands but he had bled through the bandage package again so her mother cleaned his wounds again. He laid clammy and frozen. He shuddered but looked at Irma with big beautiful eyes. Irma crawled down on the floor so she could sit just in front of him. Couldn't her father come sooner? Henry needed help, at once. 

When her father Eric finally came both of the women shouted at him in panic so he came running in with his outerwear on. 

"Henry is just getting worse! We must go back to the hospital!" Shouted Bea in panic. 

"Why haven't you called an ambulance?" He said and looked at Henry. 

"He says he wants to go with you! Please just help him!" Cried Bea. Irma gave her parents an annoyed look while they were shouting, Henry was in pain and needed help now! 

Her father helped her take Henry to his car then they left while Irma and Bea took her car and drove behind them. It didn't look good at all. She felt the tears run down her face and if she had looked to her right she should have seen that her mother was also crying. Both of them were so worried they would lose kind, precious Henry and without the other one knowing they repeated the same thing in their heads,  "please don't leave me. Please don't leave me." 

×

They couldn't really say if it was for real but they both could hear Henry's voice inside of them, "I will not leave you."

[officer-achilles]

Going through my old phone voice recordings... I found the MOST in character Wolf 359 moment but it's literally an actual audio recording taken like three years ago between me and my friends...

Context: Me and my two friends (Jessie & James) were driving through a pitch black curved mountain road in the dead of night not long after we all graduated high school. I was discussing an idea for a play I wanted to write involving drag queen hallucinations...

TRANSCRIPT

Jesse: So you know my name for Blair St. Clair, Witch Project Saint Luke?

Me (Playfully): We are NOT calling her Witch Project Saint Luke!

(Cue Me Laughing)

Jesse: Why? Blair Witch Project-

Me (Overlapping): She was named after-

(The sudden sound of Jesse letting out deep, panicked, staccato guttural screams. Almost as if on cue I shout a panicked and confused 'What!?' mere moments after every scream. Imagine if you will... Scream. WHAT!? Scream. wHaT!? SCREAM! ((Somehow A Bit Exasperated)) WHAT!?)

(Jesse screams one last time. I do my automatic response...)

Me (Sounding Genuinely Peeved, More Annoyed Than Scared, Almost Bratty Child Tone): What?!

Jesse (Genuinely struggling to breath, still guttural): There was a deer- middle of the road-

Me (Genuinely Confused, With a Subtle but Noticeable Valley Girl Tonality That I Suppose Is The Result of Living in Los Angeles My Entire Life): Why did you start doing that?

Jesse (Exasperated, 'Are You Dumb?' Tone of Voice): Cause I was going to hit it!

Me (Almost Awkwardly Laughing, Weirdly Nonchalant, 'Oops Too Bad' Tone): Oh... sorry...

(A brief pause.)

Me (Audible 'Oh Well' Shrug, Again Very Nonchalant): I'm glad we didn't die.

(The sound of Jesse struggling not to hyperventilate.)

Me (Voice lowering to a whisper mid-sentence, almost a stage whisper, again- GENUINELY confused): WHy didn't you break?

(More barely audible hyperventilating from Jesse.)

James (Tinny Sounding, He's in the Backseat, Effortlessly Matter of Fact, Think Linus from Charlie Brown): In moments of stress people often do that which comes most natural to them.

Me (Again, Weirdly Giggly, So Deeply Confused By Everything, Nearly Bursting Into Laughter by the End of the Question): Which is drive us off a cliff?

(Jesse's hyperventilating becomes louder just as I let out a loud, awkward laugh. It sounds vaguely like Goofy's laugh- like the Disney character.)

Me (Cartoonish Relief in Voice, Still Barely Holding Back Laughter): Boy am I glad the audio recorder caught that! If we died we'd have evidence of what the fuck happened!

James ('I Love You, Shut Up Please' But Said Politely Tone): Milo, may I suggest-

(James' words become inaudible as Jesse's hyperventilating grows louder and louder- drowning everything else out.)

Me (Tinny, A Bit Further Back Now, Clearly Apologetic Yet Still Awkwardly Laughing, This Situation Has Clearly Not Sunk In Yet): We're gonna take a moment... I'm gonna shut up... (A Bit Sheepish, Finally Understanding the Gravitas of the Moment) Shutting up now...

(Jesse continues to hyperventilate. We hear James get closer.)

James (Kind, Worried, Slight Forced Cheer in Voice): You okay Jesse? (More Clearly Worried) Need some water?

(Audio Cuts Out Abruptly. End Transcript.)

+ + +

Like... that's... that's Eiffel (Me), Hera (Jesse), and Minkowski (James). Like... we get that right?

+ + +

Also worth noting me and my friends were fine in the end! We swerved on a bend in the road to avoid the deer and managed to stop the car in a little side section of the road. We took a bit to breath and drink water and I checked in on Jesse and we drove home.

That happened three or so years ago and Jesse was the one who had me dig up the audio file so I could send it to her because she finds it super fucking funny in hindsight, which... fair.

[andsoigotabutterfly]

Little update on Save Me From Her...

Sorry I keep you guys waiting more and more on the chapters. I feel like I struggle writing it and here's why;

First of all, it was deeply personal from the start. The first few times I wrote the chapters I didn't even register it, but I was pouring myself into Yanna herself (that's what I call Y/N characters. I couldn't ever read it as my name or didn't write Y/N's as if the reader was the one who I was writing about, sorry for that) and into the whole situation as well.

Years ago (like waaay back) I suffered a pretty bad arm injury that almost killed me, and I thought it would be pretty neat to write a story that had something like that. So I figured out a short little story for it, yet when I was writing chapter two (I originally planed 3-4 chapters lol) I somewhy thought I could drag it out, so (naturaly) without planing anything I dragged it out. I was always figuring out what was going to happen next while I was writing the story. Life just got shittier and shittier during all this and then someone very dear to me suffered a near death situation, got hospitalised and all that. The whole thing felt way too close to what I was writing and (knowing at least the very end of what would happen at my story) I started writing more and more reluctantly, because what if that happens with us as well? (Yeah, the ending would and will be pretty angsty...)

Second, I changed a lot. My mind's a bit clearer and I started to plan out my life and where I'm going to head with me, myself and I.

Because of these (mostly the first part) I have decided that I am going to end the series, but do not threat! I am leaving it here, and I am going to finish it. In the future, if things get better around here, I am going to restart the series. Write the whole thing once again, but now planned out and (hopefuly) depicted more clearly. I am sorry for this, but I feel like if I would continue it now, it would feel like a drag and wouldn't be the best I could make it. And it would really fucking hurt if I somehow predicted what would happen, and wrote it for anyone to see how miserable it all turned out.

If you still want to see me write, feel free to send asks and everything you want because I won't stop writing, just SMFH.

I am deeply sorry and I do promise, that if it turns out good in the end I will return with it. I hope you all can forgive me.

[admirableadmiranda]

Just thought I should share, the one person that argued with me came back to argue more. Their whole thing was that my point wasn't what you guys were actually saying, and that I was just back peddling more, blah blah blah. And then it just struck me. I'm using JC stan talking points of "ignore their words and actions, look at the deeper meaning behind it all" and they are using your guy's argument of "but that's not what the actual text that they wrote said." This is kinda a pot meets kettle situation, but overall I think it just goes to show that if JC was an actual person and not a purple fantasy man they would hate him since they don't actually seem to be able to practice what they preach in regards to looking for deeper meaning behind people's seemingly rude actions. As far as they're concerned I'm an anti instead of a neutral party that watched everything go down in real time. Doesn't matter how many times I repeat that literal book quotes got people hate messages, I'm just one of you guys that want to bash JC despite never posting anything before the tag was invaded. If I'm going to be lumped in with a group though at least it's the one that can see the humor in these kinds of parallels.

It is definitely an interesting and humorous level of irony that we are essentially having to use each other's arguments. And I am sorry that you got dragged into this when you really were a neutral party pointing out events that went down.

I went and looked at your debates with the person involved and I think that you were very reasonable despite them being jerks to you. I'm quite impressed with the points that you've made in fact, especially pointing out that them flooding the tag with ship content is also not canon, as it frequently involves Jiang Cheng being shipped with characters he has little to no interaction with. Is there no respect for him chasing the clan leader who's regard and alliance he most wants; Jin Guangshan? Where are the fics with those two?? /j

I admire your fortitude in dealing with people who refuse to ever consider that they are in the wrong despite all evidence to the contrary.

(also while I know the poster will never see it, as the "creator" of the tag, why does it matter to you so much what tag name I put it under? You and your ilk wouldn't let me use the appropriate tag despite the amount of fandoms that are completely cognizant that a character tag is not always positive when it comes to antagonists, so I made a tag that you could block and not have to deal with the fact that Jiang Cheng does in fact lead a siege to kill fifty innocent people up on a mountain who had never done anything to him, torture Wei Wuxian with his greatest fear, be homophobic and slut-shaming towards another person who has done nothing to him besides not like him, and other glorious things like strangling, torture and murder that even he is quite happy to point out that he's done in his own narrative scenes. This is my tag, I will continue to post my content in it, so make like your favorite character and grow the fuck up and move on.)

Seriously, Jiang Cheng is more mature than most of these people; he actually stopped fighting a losing battle and decided to move on with his life.