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bring-forth-his-sac · 4 months ago

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The Christmas Party - Chapter 4

Summary: after spending some days apart, you and Negan finally find a way to sort out your differences, and it involves a whooooooooole lot of balls

Tags: Modern AU, Teacher AU, Gossip, Swearing, Pet Names, Slow Burn, friendly competitive games, sexual innuendos

Word Count: 7.3k (I'm sorry, idk how tf this is getting so long)

Michonne likes her job. It’s cushy, which isn’t what most people would assume. But being principal of Alexandria High is something she fought for and something she earned. In many ways, it’s exactly where she’s supposed to be.

Not only that, but she gets to be closer to her kids. For the first time, Michonne can embrace the role of the classic mom—carpooling with her children, loudly saying “I love you” and reminding them not to forget their lunch as they all walk into the same building.

Carl doesn’t mind it much. At this point, he sees it more as an inside joke between himself and his stepmom.

Judith, on the other hand, still squirms every time she gets out of the car with Principle Grimes, her eyes darting around to see if anyone is taking notice.

Michonne doesn’t take offense though, she knows it’s because Judith is still adjusting to “big school”, eager to make a good impression during her first year.

She had to deal with a blunder last week between Gregory, Rosita and Sasha. Once again, it was up to her to clean up Gregory’s incompetence while he played victim.

If Michonne had her way, firing him would have been her first decree as principal. And he wouldn’t have been the last to be fired either. Michonne can think of a few she would’ve picked off straight away if it wasn’t for unfair dismissal laws.

Saying goodbye to both of her kids, she makes her way down the corridor, pretending not to hear the students going wild in some of the classrooms as they let out their energy before classes start. They’re more hyper than usual for a Monday but since this is the last week of classes, she understands the excitement.

Strolling into her office, she comes face to face with another ‘if only I could fire them without lawful reasoning’ candidate.

“Holy fuckin’ shit, no way Ricky Dicky got you this weird ass piñata for Christmas,” Negan giggles when she walks in, holding up a gift she got for her birthday.

“Carl, actually,” she corrects him, watching carefully to make sure he doesn’t drop the statue “and it’s a unicorn he and Judith painted, not a piñata”.

With raised eyebrows, Negan gently places it back down on the desk. “Well, shit, ain’t they… creative” he treads carefully, not wanting to piss her off.

“Is there a reason you’re lurking in my office?” Michonne gets straight to business, making her away around the desk and to her chair.

Negan sits opposite her, making himself comfortable “Well, it’s about the Christmas party”.

Michonne debates hiding her smirk but she can’t help it. Negan’s a man that always chooses to be cocky, so why shouldn’t she when she knows something he doesn’t?

Reading her smirk, Negan can’t help but scoff at himself. He’d been expecting a reaction like this.

“Yeah, I know it sounds stupid,” he mutters.

Michonne twirls a finger in the air, gesturing to her grin. “Oh, this?” she says, her smirk widening “It’s not because you think this whole thing is stupid. It’s because I know exactly what you’re about to say”.

Negan shifts in his seat, caught between feeling a little embarrassed and strangely intrigued. He crosses one leg over the other.

“Is that so?” he says, his tone casual but curious.

“I had a certain English teacher in here on Friday,” Michonne keeps her information vague “she may have mentioned the staff Christmas party as well”.

“Did she mention how she can’t keep her damn mouth shut? Or that she’s the control freak?” he interjects “actually, no I want to hear what she’s said about me and how she’s spinning this whole thing”.

Michonne huffs “Funnily enough I could say the same thing to describe you”.

He rolls his eyes, trying not to mumble anything under his breath in case she hears.

“Actually, she explained everything, from the text message to you deserting her. In fact I think she told me too much, usually when you bunk off your job, you don’t tell your boss” Michonne says, her tone level.

Negan nods knowingly “She has a tendency to keep running her mouth, even when she shouldn’t”.

“And she also asked if the staff party could be held somewhere other than the sports hall, since she tells me it’s essentially your hall,” Michonne continues “Which is odd, because I’ve never seen your name above the door”.

“It is my hall,” he snaps, his chest puffing out “everyone knows it is. My office is right next door —which has my name on the door— and out of all the coaches, I’ve been here the longest. So, yeah, my hall”.

Michonne just watches him, silently grateful she doesn’t have to deal with Negan more often. “Well, the party will still be held there, and when it comes to the two of you constantly clashing, I’ll say to you the exact same thing I told her”.

Michonne pauses, making sure Negan is actually paying attention.

“Whether you help plan the party while she doesn’t, or she plans it while you don’t, or both of you just plan the damn thing,” she says, speaking slowly, hoping it’ll sink in “I. Don’t. Care.”

Negan clamps his mouth shut, holding back a curse. “That’s your big advice?” he questions, incredulity in his voice. “Seriously?”

He’s met with a flat look “Negan, it’s a Christmas party. Let’s not overcomplicate things ”.

Leaning back in her chair, she glances over the paperwork she should be working on “I’m not going to force you two to work together. If you’re not that interested in helping, then don’t and let another coach help when it comes to setting things up in the hall. Simple as that.

Michonne picks up a pen and begins writing on one of the pages in front of her, giving him the sign that they’re done here.

This is easier than Negan expected. Where’s the whole “you need to work together for the sake of Christmas party magic” speech? The guilt trip about teamwork and holiday cheer?

He expected more pushback, more of Michonne’s insistence that they both need to cooperate and sing kumbaya.

But instead, it’s just… simple. She doesn’t care.

And, sure, they both irritated the hell out of each other, but now that they’re not being forced into the same space, he finds himself missing it a little. He had started getting into a rhythm—annoying her, sparring with her and slowly picking up on her banter.

It had become a game of sorts, and he’d almost gotten good at it.

But then again, he did walk away from her. And she never came crawling back with an apology, so maybe this is for the best. Neither of them had the patience to stick it out.

After a few seconds, when Negan doesn’t move, Michonne stills her movements. “I can hear you breathing,” she comments, keeping her head down and reading through the sheets on her desk.

“So?”.

“So, I’m busy? Go get ready for class— oh, actually, while I have you here,” Michonne looks over at him and Negan can see the shift from bored principal to fiery mama bear.

He stands, getting ready to leave.

Pointing her pen at him, she keeps her voice calm and steady “You make fun of Carl’s eye again and I’m giving the Coach Smith that actually does his job, your office”.

Negan knows better than to test her, or to even let a word alip about how Coach Mark Smith is off tanning in Jamaica, something he definitely doesn’t consider “doing his job”.

Straightening up, he gives a quick nod and mutters a simple, “Yes, Ma’am,” before hightailing it out the door.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

What’re you on now? Plan C? Or D?

Plan A went out the window with your pettiness, when you decided to plan the Christmas party just to spite Negan.

Plan B, trying to work with Negan, crumbled and left you stranded at Target. You owe Carol big time for driving out and collecting you. Although you hope the amount of cookies you baked with her afterwards means that you’re both even.

Plan C… well, that hasn’t technically failed, nor has it gotten you off the hook, thanks to Michonne being indifferent either way.

And now that's brought you on to plan D, which so far has been giving constant reassurance to a fully grown man.

“I don’t think I should be doing this,” Joey’s bottom lip wobbles and for a moment, you genuinely believe you’re about to see a tear roll down his stubbled cheek.

“Joey, you’re just helping me measure” you reply, holding onto the other end of the measuring tape as the wary man makes his way down to the other end of the hall.

You came to work today with a plan. After avoiding Negan for the remainder of last week and having the weekend to get your shit together, you’ve decided that you’re going to continue planning this party.

The major difference now?

You’re doing it from your own free will, not letting accidental texts or pettiness be the driving force… although in saying that, you also didn’t want to deal with Gregory’s passive aggressiveness.

So after a quick stop at Negan’s office before he arrived, you side-stepped into the sports hall next, and found your new helper, Joey.

“Yeah but…” he hesitates to even say his name “Negan doesn’t know you’re here, and if he finds out I’ve let you in here…”.

In a sense, you feel bad for Joey. It’s his first year at Alexandria High too but he’s already been indoctrinated into the Negan cult, which consists of Negan, Joey and whoever Negan’s trying to swoon for the week.

“Classes start in twenty minutes, he isn’t even here yet,” you attempt to comfort him for the fourth time this morning “besides, you’re just helping me get measurements, this isn’t the end of the world”.

“Yeah, but I don’t want Negan to think I’m betraying him by doing this, or that I’m choosing your side over his,” Joey babbles and you try not to take offense “I asked him last Friday how the planning was going for the party and he— jeez, if you saw the look on his face when I mentioned you!”.

Gulping, you shift slightly and try to change topics “Are you at the end of the hall?”.

“Oh!” Joey stoops down and presses the end of the tape to the wall “Ok, ready!”.

You write down the measurements in your notebook before calling Joey back.

Unfortunately, he continues to ramble. “I mean, it was like his whole face changed when I mentioned your name! I was just asking about it cause I was wondering if he got into your pants yet but damn, you must’ve turned him down bad!”.

You wonder if this is how irritating you sound when you ramble.

As Negan walks down the hallway to his office, he lets out a long breath. No more Christmas party for him. It’s someone else’s problem, whether or not that be his favourite love-to-hate and hate-to-love English teacher.

He tunes out the chatter coming from the sports hall, not in the mood to deal with teens who’ve sneaked in before class for a quick game of basketball.

He enters his office and takes a moment to drop his bag onto the chair, releasing a long sigh. Like shit he would ever leave Michonne give Mark his office. At this point, Negan’s sure he has squatters rights.

He removes his winter coat and casually tosses it over the old coat rack. Despite the cluttered state of his desk, it's organized in a way only he seems to understand. Negan knows exactly where everything is but something’s… off.

Something’s different.

His gaze shifts to the small pumpkin statue from Target, its green stalk hidden beneath a tiny Christmas hat. Negan frowns, frustration creeping in. Dammit.

This guilt-tripping crap shouldn’t work on him. And it won’t. You can buy him the pumpkin but it doesn’t change how you have a bad habit of blurting out the wrong thing at the worst possible time.

Still, he can’t remember the last time someone bought him an actual present. His colleagues never get him anything, unless you count glares. His students skedaddle out of his class the second they have the chance, his only gift there being the peace and quiet they leave behind.

It must’ve been Lucille who last got him a gift, years ago. His leather jacket to be exact. He rarely wears it to work, not wanting some kid’s dirty paws to taint it.

That’s just for him.

After he walked out on you at Target, you’ve both kept your distance, neither one willing to make the first move. But now, it's a new week, with the staff party only a few days away.

And here sits a little pumpkin on his desk, it's Christmas hat perched jauntily on top. With a low hum, Negan flicks the hat of the pumpkin as he heads out of his office, his sixth sense tingling.

Letting the other end of your measuring tape zip back into place, Joey strolls the width of the hall back to you.

“So, you not a fan of the lanky type?” he asks, shrugging with as much nonchalance as he can muster “Since you rejected Negan and all”.

It's a real talent suppressing your cringe that fast. You force a tight-lipped smile, trying to set the record straight.

“I never rejected— I mean, I would have if he—look, Joey, I don’t judge people or decide whether I’m attracted to them based on their—"

“Prefer them with some meat on their bones?" he cuts in, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth when you can't come up with a satisfactory answer.

You’re about to let out a defeated sigh but then you wonder if you can use this to your advantage.

"You know what really gets me going?" you ask, the words alone making Joey’s face go bright red. "A guy who isn’t afraid of what others think, who’ll help people without worrying if it pisses off... oh, let’s say a meaner, older man”.

Before Joey can even respond, a suspiciously cheerful voice cuts in from the doorway.

"There ain't no way I've just walked in on some dirty talk," Negan grins, leaning against the frame with that trademark smirk of his "And to make it even better, you're describing me, sweetheart! Damn, I didn’t realise I turned you on so much”.

Your jaw clenches but you try to keep things cordial. “Negan,” you give a small nod in greeting “I was just leaving”.

He glances over at the numbers written on your open notebook. “Oh, very busy, I see,” he remarks, before deciding that’s enough small talk “how about we have a chat?”.

“About what?” Joey asks, still standing there.

You glance at Joey, but it’s Negan’s pointed look that makes him realize he’s intruding.

“I’ve got a class in here in about…” Negan checks his watch “ten minutes. How about you head to the storage room, grab whatever balls are in there, and line them up for me? I’ll let the kids blow off some of that pent up Monday morning energy with a game of dodgeball”.

Before Joey can protest, Negan tosses him the keys. Joey fumbles, barely catching them as he hurries off.

“You got it, si— bos— I mean, Negan!” he takes off down to the dusty storage room on the far side of the gym.

“Jesus Christ,” Negan lets out a low chuckle “I’m surprised he hasn’t asked to call me Daddy yet”.

A disgusted scoff leaves your throat and you grip your notebook a little tighter, ready to leave. And yet you want to stay, just to hear what Negan has to say.

Negan crosses his arm, eyes locked somewhere in the middle distance as Joey unlocks the storage room and disappears inside. You stay in your spot a few paces away from Negan, feeling the weight of the silence pressing on you, unspoken words hanging in the air.

After a long pause, he speaks in a much more serious tone “You know, you’re really good at pushing buttons”.

Putting a hand up to stop him, you quickly clarify “The pumpkin is just a peace offering. I’m not expecting us to get along but I don’t want us to be at each other’s throats for the rest of the school year either”.

Joey hurries out of the with some basketballs and places them in a line along the centre of the hall before going to get more.

“I get it, I’m not your favorite person—hell, I’m not anyone’s favorite person,” Negan continues once Joey’s gone “but at Target… damn, you don’t have to go there. Not like that”.

Sighing, you avoid eye contact. The words still feel fresh on your tongue but you know you have to face them.

“I didn’t mean to go there,” you reply “I just… I imploded and I don’t want to excuse it by saying you pushed me to it… I could’ve been more careful with what I said”.

Your stomach drops when you hear him laugh bitterly. There’s no real humor behind it and your defenses go up in an instant. The warning lights are starting to light up in your head.

“You’ve got a hell of a way of showing that,” he pauses, biting back something sharper “It’s… it’s not that simple for me and I get it, I’m an asshole. But to bring her up when I take it too far? Or piss you off just a little too much?”.

Some footsteps echo behind you as Joey drops more balls down in the middle of the room, heading back into the storage room and not noticing a battered handball roll over to join your conversation with Negan.

You watch as it rolls closer.

Shifting from foot to foot, Negan folds his arms. “I mean, shit, I know I shouldn’t have driven off without you but what do you expect me to do after you said that?” he asks.

A flicker of that well known frustration bubble before you sigh. “Maybe I expected you to—I don’t know—talk to me instead of running away every time things get tough? I don’t say these things to be a jackass to you, Negan, I say it because… well, yeah I’m pissed off but also because no one else has the balls to say it to you”.

The handball nudges your shoe.

“No pun intended” you add, a thought springing into your head.

You can see your walls going up, and the same with Negan. It’s a toxic cycle of annoying each other and then escalating it whenever you try to hear the other person out. You can tell he’s getting annoyed again just by rehashing it.

Time for Plan E… which you may or may not have just made up now impulsively.

Getting restless, Negan switches to putting his hands on his hips “I do talk, damn it, but you just—”.

WHAM!

Before Negan can finish, a handball comes flying from your direction, slamming right into his chest with a loud thud. He stumbles back, eyes wide in surprise.

Negan doesn’t have to feign any shock. Not when that’s just happened. But he’s not angry about it. If anything, the random ball attack has made him break his serious streak.

“Goddamn, woman! What the hell was that for?!” he looks at you, bewildered.

You let your notebook fall to the floor and take a few steps back, edging towards the centre of the hall.

“Ever since you deserted me, you’ve been dodging me so I figured you’d be good at dodging that too” you shrug.

Placing a hand dramatically over his chest, Negan glares at you, though the playful anger in his eyes betrays any real frustration. “Really? A damn handball?” he tuts “The one time I’m tryin’ to be serious, and this is what I get?”.

You stop when you feel a soccer ball nudge the back of your shoe, letting you know you’ve successfully made it to the halfway mark of the hall.

“You piss me off,” you state the obvious “I piss you off. We piss each other off so fucking much and I am sick of it! Talking it out is just making us both angry again and that’ll lead to one of us saying something stupid – again”.

To show you mean business, you pick up the soccer ball. Joey, confused as ever, just continues with the job Negan gave him.

“We both fucked up, I get that and I am sorry, Negan,” you say solemnly before huffing “but fuck! You just annoy me so much! And ’cause of that, I think we should just get this out of our systems… so, you game?”.

The hint of a smile creeps up on his face, playful offence melting into amusement.

“Y’know when two people need to get something out of their system, this ain’t the kinda balls that’re involved, sweetheart,” with a grunt he bends over and picks up the handball.

You don’t move, fingers strumming against the soccer ball. Joey inadvertently fills up your supply of ammo by bringing out a few more balls out.

“Are you seriously gonna make me play dodgeball to work this out?” Negan calls your bluff, narrowing his eyes at you as he rolls his shoulders.

“Unless you’re too scared”.

Damn you. Negan smirks, knowing full well you know he’s not about to turn this down. His eyes gleam with mischief “Scared? Hell no, I just—”.

Hoping you wouldn’t be expecting a ball hurled at you mid-sentence, Negan throws the handball, narrowly missing your head. It smacks off the ground and you gulp, releasing he’s not about to take it easy on you.

“…I just needed to warm up. Let’s do this,” Negan swings his arms to the side, stretching “Joey! Throw a few down this direction”.

As if signaling the start of a war, three balls roll past you and come to a stop at Negan’s feet, their new commander in chief. The second he bends down to grab one, you seize your chance.

Without hesitation, you send the soccer ball hurtling through the air.

What follows is pure chaos— dodgeball in its most frantic form. Balls fly in every direction, slamming into walls, ricocheting off bleachers, and nearly knocking over everything in sight.

You dive to the side, narrowly dodging one of Negan’s throws, which sails through the air and wallops against the wall.

Neither of you is holding back now. Negan cackles, the sound of his laughter filling the hall as he effortlessly dodges another ball.

Joey, meanwhile, has wisely retreated to the safety of the storage room, peeking out from behind the door.

He cowers, half-hidden, making sure the door doesn’t slam shut and trap him in there, caught between wanting to stay out of the chaos and not wanting to be accidentally locked inside.

Negan laughs in between throws, his enthusiasm spurring you on. “Goddamn! This is one cruel and usual punishment, doll” he pants, a wide smile gracing his face.

It’s odd to see him so happy. Not smirking or smiling just to get under your skin. He’s like a dog that’s finally been let out to run wild, truly in his element.

Trying a new tactic, you throw a ball low to the ground, hoping to get his legs but Negan effortlessly leaps over it.

“Well, if you didn’t cut our argument short then you wouldn’t be getting a face full of balls” you throw another, aiming for his head. He dodges it, bouncing his own ball off the ground as he readies his aim.

Negan grins before tossing the ball straight at your chest. You barely catch it, smiling back at him triumphantly.

“I get it, alright? I was being an ass leaving you stranded… and for trying to wind you up so much beforehand,” Negan shockingly gives a genuine apology “But you can’t just throw stuff at me and call it a ‘game’!”

Bouncing on your heels, you think carefully of your next move. Sure, you’re a little out of breath but this is the most fun you’ve had all month.

“I can if it makes you listen,” you quip back before issuing another apology of your own “look… I didn’t mean for what I said to be so harsh, okay? I was just mad. I don’t want to be that person, but sometimes you’re so damn stubborn… it gets under my skin”.

Negan slows his movements, watching you carefully for a second. The playful energy fades just enough to let sincerity peek through.

“I’m sorry, you’re sorry, can we go back to planning this awful party now?” he asks, surprising even himself by still wanting to help with this damned thing.

Throwing the last ball at him, you manage to catch Negan off guard and hit him square in the shoulder. “One condition, you actually put in some effort” you reveal your single demand.

“No promises but I’ll try. Alright?”.

With a half-hearted laugh, you step away from the ball and approach your opponent.

“Alright” you stick out your hand. Negan looks down at your hand, back up at you and finally, he shakes it.

There’s a moment of quiet, both of you catching your breath as the ridiculousness of the game breaks the tension between you. “I gotta say,” you pant slightly “you’ve got one hell of a throw”.

He laughs, nudging one of the balls to roll back toward the center of the room. “What can I say, I’m good with my hand” that familiar smirk is back, but surprisingly, it doesn’t irk you as much as it did before.

Still, you can’t resist sending a playful glare in his direction. Just to keep him on his toes.

Joey hesitantly steps out from the storage room, glancing around nervously. You watch as he clings to the door, ready to duck and dive at the slightest threat.

“Is it over? Who won?” he asks, his voice cautious.

Negan looks over at him, a grin still on his face. “The school did,” he calls out “considering it’s still got us two fucks planning this party”.

You glance back at Negan, finding his eyes still locked on you, studying you with an intensity that makes something stir in your chest.

His voice lowers, smooth and almost too casual, as he asks, “If I call you later, will you pick up? To talk about the Christmas party, of course.”

You let a slow smile spread across your face, leaning into the moment. “I might reject your call, just out of instinct,” you tease, feeling the playful tension in the air.

Joey, clearly happy the dodgeball war has finally ended, at least for now, yells over with a grin, “You should definitely pick up!”.

You raise an eyebrow at the advice but there’s a warmth in your smile. “Like you said,” you nudge Negan lightly, the hint of something more lingering in your voice “no promises, but I’ll try”.

And with that, the mood between you both lightens, the game being an unexpected but fitting resolution to all the unspoken things between you.

From the doorway, Negan’s class of teens wait, unsure whether this is something that should be interrupted.

A mixture of horror and amusement is plastered across their faces. “You owe me ten bucks,” Ron leans over to Carl and whispers “I told you they’re definitely banging”.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The Alexandria High’s Teachers Midlife Crisis Support Line keeps you entertained after school. You had a few last minute presents to pick up and get ready for shipping, hoping an influx in gifts back to your parents will ease the blow of you not being home this Christmas.

It’s a topic you try not to think about, let alone mention it to any friends you have here. And by ‘friends’ you do mean work colleagues , considering you haven’t exactly done a lot of socializing since you moved here.

Reading the steady flow of messages helped ease the guilt of not travelling home though. And, you were actually given a reason to interact and send in some of your own messages!

Most of it was you letting the others know more details about the party; what time to be there, dress code, are plus ones allowed.

Bustling up to the door of your apartment, you quickly send a text saying the party will start at 6 as you make your way inside.

You don’t even have time to shut the door behind you when your phone pings with a private message.

Negan: isn’t 6 too early?

You: I thought it was a little late actually

Negan: sounds like you’ve been to many parties

Negan: lol

Asshole. Ever since group chat started buzzing with life, Negan has been sharing his running commentary with you.

He still hasn’t sent a text into the group chat but seems to have no problem reading what’s being said and sending his thoughts to you in private messages.

Kicking off your shoes and turning on the lights to your place, you decide to leave him wait for a response. Right now, your main priority is getting a well nourished dinner… which means microwaved popcorn and watching whatever Christmas movie you can find on Netflix.

Poking the time into the microwave, you wander from room to room; going into the bedroom and quickly changing into some pyjamas, going to the bathroom to snag a few wipes for your make-up, before heading back to the kitchen, just in time to stop the microwave.

You: wow I didn’t realize you were aching for another round of balls being thrown at you

With your Christmas lights on, snacks at the ready and big glass of soda, you settle in for the night when… ping!

Negan: for that, you’re not getting your Christmas present until after the break

You debate throwing your phone onto the other side of the couch and simply ignoring him but he is unfortunately entertaining.

You: your the literal grinch, I know you didn’t get me anything

It may have taken a while but you can finally feel yourself relaxing when it comes to Negan. Maybe all you both needed was the game of dodgeball to get past all that previous turbulence.

You’re understanding his sense of humor, how he’ll flirt just for the hell of it and how he’s all bark and no bite. If you don’t fall for his charms and throw yourself at him after his first few attempts, Negan just flirts for fun.

Holding your phone in one hand, you use your remote to navigate through the tv channels with the other, stopping when you get to the Netflix app. With a ping, your attention is back to your other hand.

Negan: are you asking me to roleplay? ;)

First off, ew. Secondly, what the fuck, why does he have to make it weird? Well, maybe that’s the winky face’s fault but either way, you sneer at the message. You keep your response short, sweet and to the point.

You: perv

He responds immediately.

Negan: That’s not a no. I’ll even bring my santa hat

You: you’re right it’s not a no, it’s an absolutely NOT

You: and a Santa hat isn’t grinchy enough

Getting flooded with notifications, your attention is briefly brought back to the teachers group chat.

Glancing at the top of your screen, you catch fragments of the ongoing conversation. Eugene and Aaron seem to be deep in a back-and-forth, trying to settle what the true definition of "casual attire" really is.

Negan: yes it is, he wore one in the movie

Negan’s private message grabs your attention and you try to ignore what’s happening in the group chat, for now.

You: still not grinchy enough

You stare at your phone for a few moments but there’s no reply. Oh well. Directing your attention back to the tv, you open Netflix and begin browsing for some stereotypical Christmas romance.

Across town, Negan picks up his controller again, his eyes locked onto his tv screen as a new team deathmatch begins.

His fingers work swiftly, selecting his loadout with practiced ease. Negan’s character moves forward, entering a tornado of bullets and death.

He takes down two players in quick succession but before he can reload, some idiot with a rocket launcher blows him to pieces in a fiery explosion. Frustration bubbles up as he watches his character's remains scatter across the screen.

“Fuckin’ ass” Negan mumbles, checking his phone as he respawns.

Normally, Negan would have his headset on, letting the pent-up frustration of the day spill out as he argues with whatever tween is shrieking down their mic. But tonight he’s opted to go for a quiet evening.

Instead of unleashing his usual barrage of insults, he mutters them to himself under his breath.

As he fumbles to quickly type a message back to you, a smirk creeps across his face. He knows your reaction will be priceless. The way your eyes narrow and that subtle flush creeps up your cheeks whenever his teasing or flirting goes just a little too far.

You glance down at the message, and for a brief moment, your heart stops. You quickly look away, eyes darting to the search bar on your TV, trying to focus on anything else to steady your racing thoughts.

But after a deep breath, you force your gaze back to the screen, almost afraid to read it again.

The words are unchanged, still sitting there, but your mind can't seem to process them. It's the same message, and yet, you find yourself unable to believe it.

Negan: What if I bring my green fursuit? Is that good enough?

Weird message, sure, but that’s not the shocking part. Swiping open the message, it doesn’t bring you to your private conversation with Negan.

No, instead you’re taken to Alexandria High’s Teachers Midlife Crisis Support Line, where Negan’s message is there as clear as day.

Oh my god.

You can’t control your reaction, immediately going out of the group chat and to your contact info on Negan. Without a second thought, you hit call.

It rings once, twice and on the third ring, he answers. It’s like you have no autonomy anymore, simply letting your body work without any consultation with your brain.

Negan is in the midst of trying to figure out of to delete a messages when your call comes through. When he answers, your name alongside his note of (good ass, weird at flirting) which he will have to change later to (good ass, great throw) lights up as you laugh down the phone to him.

“Oh my fucking god!” you basically squeal “how the fuck did you do that? Oh my g-”.

You can’t finish your sentence before your own laughter cuts you off again.

He stays uncharacteristically quiet but that doesn’t hinder you. With your other hand, you have to drop the tv remote to clutch your stomach, a pain beginning to linger from the laughter.

“Now that, that has made my Christmas” you try to quieten your laughter and on the other end, you finally hear a chuckle.

“I mean, a green fursuit? Where the fuck did you come up with that?” you have to wipe a tear away.

“That’s the shit Jim Carrey had to wear,” his voice seems a little tight but he’s still chuckling “fuck’s sake, that’s it, I’m switching schools”.

Your laughter simmers down to a giggle “Quick, just delete the message before anyone else sees it!”.

“But how the fuck do I do that?” he blusters, a strange mix of self-assertiveness and panic coating his voice.

You know you should stop laughing by now but everytime you can feel yourself gain some control over your laughter, you think of the situation at hand and lose it again.

“Just… just hold down on the message and… and wait until the different tabs pop up a-and then… you just have to tap delete” you struggle to get the words out, holding your nose in one hand to stop yourself from snorting.

Now that’s something you know Negan would pick up on, immediately directing all attention to that instead of his hilarious blunder.

“Fine, I’ll try that” he says gruffly before hanging up. You continue to laugh the second he’s gone, flopping onto your side and burying your head into the couch cushions.

You drop your phone beside you, but only so you can stuff some popcorn into your mouth. Going for the phone again, you swiftly go back to the group chat to find the message has disappeared, and in its place a simple yet ambiguous message from the service provider.

*This user has deleted their message*

Before you can even tap out of the group, the phone starts to ring in your hand. You doesn’t waste any time answering, especially now that your giggles have subsided.

“It’s gone,” you tell Negan, trying your best to sound serious “now all it says is that you deleted a message”.

“But does it say the fuckin’ message?” he asks, causing you to roll your eyes.

“I literally just said it doesn’t,” you reiterate “do you listen at all?”.

Negan huffs loudly, muttering something under his breath. “And what was that?” you ask pointedly, wondering why you even answered the phone again.

His huff turns into something of a chuckle “My ears must be fuckin’ deceiving me cause it just sounded like you used your teacher voice on me”.

“And what if I did?” you challenge.

He chuckles again, before letting out a teasing scoff “How the hell am I the one getting scolded? Shouldn’t you be tryin’ to comfort me for that shit? I mean, I’m fuckin’ traumatised over here”.

“You’re not the only one traumatised, did it say who saw the message?” You pop some more popcorn into your mouth.

“How the fuck would I know that?” Negan asks, leaving the lobby he’s in and going back to the game’s home screen.

“Damn, your age is really showing now,” you mumble but make sure to say it loud enough for him to hear “you swipe the message and it shows you who’s read it and who hasn’t yet… but you can’t do it now since you deleted it”.

You may or may not have gone up an octave when you said that last part just to tease him.

“Well, that’s dumb. What’s the point in knowing how to do that when I can’t do it now?”.

“Because I thought you’d have the initiative to check before you deleted it,” you goad “jeez, how old are you? You really know fuck all about technology”.

Negan retorts an equally goading reply, causing you both to quickly fall into their routine of bickering back and forth. “How old am I? I think that only matters if you have a thing for older men” he quips back.

“Only for older men in green fursuits” you tease.

“That can be arranged”.

Staring at the search bar, your perfect romantic Christmas movie so close yet so far away, your attention drifts away from the TV as you prop your feet up comfortably.

The next half hour slips by effortlessly. The conversation flows easily, a mix of casual banter and more personal exchanges, the kind of talk that somehow feels natural between you two. Time seems to slow as you get lost in the rhythm of the conversation, the world outside fading away for just a little while.

Negan raises an eyebrow, balancing his phone between his shoulder and neck.

“And should I even bring up the staff party?” he asks with a grin. Another round of gunshots echo in the background but this time, you don’t question it. Negan’s already had to fill you in on his unconventional form of therapy; video games.

“Ugh,” you sigh “I think the decorations are mostly done. I grabbed a few more things while I was out earlier… but honestly, the worst part is going to be setting it all up on the day. Other than that…”.

You think of the list in your notebook. “We still have food and drink to figure out” you recall “we gotta sort out music too but I was hoping we could just use the speakers in the sports hall? Just plug in a phone and turn on someone’s Christmas playlist“.

You hold your breath, bracing for the inevitable disagreement. You can already imagine the gruffness in his voice, the hard veto against it as Negan huffs and puffs “My speakers in my hall?! Never! I ain’t letting their dirty hands anywhere near my sound system!”.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Negan replies, to your surprise.

“Really?” You pause, wondering if this qualifies as a Christmas miracle.

“Uh-huh,” he continues, another round of gunfire crackling through the phone. “The other Coach Smith owns the speakers, so we get full reign of them. Besides, it’s the least he can do while he’s off spending the holidays in Jamaica”.

That makes more sense.

“So that just leaves food and drink” you smile, feeling a little more hopeful about the party.

Negan lets out a long sigh as the match ends. Getting up, he holds his phone properly as he wanders to the kitchen for a beer.

“Buying the booze will be fine,” he dismisses “we just gotta go clear the shelves of a liquor store, pick up a bit of everything”.

You nod along. “Yeah, the booze will be the easier of the two… but the food, on the other hand…” You trail off, sucking in air through your teeth.

“Can’t we get the home ec teachers to do it?” he suggests casually “Carol’s fine. She’ll be a hardass about it, but she’ll probably do it”.

“I think I’ve run out of favors with Carol,” you admit “she was the one who picked me up from Target after you pulled that whole disappearing act”.

Negan pulls a face despite you not being able to see. “So just cold finger food snacks, then?” he suggests.

“Yeah, that works,” you agree reluctantly, then suddenly remember “Actually! Speaking of food… did you hear about Gregory eating a student’s pancakes?”.

Negan lets out an amused chuckle, taking another sip of his beer. “Jesus Christ, you really are a gossip” he shakes his head, the action more affectionate than he’d like to admit.

You laugh “Oh, shush, you love it”.

By the time you’ve filled Negan in on the school gossip and finally hang up, you’ve finished your popcorn, something Negan quickly caught onto, feigning offense that you were snacking during the call.

After exchanging a dozen “goodbyes”, you finally hang up, letting out a long breath.

You glance at the search bar on your TV, offering it a sympathetic look before you turn the screen off, resigning yourself to the fact that it’s time for bed.

Negan finishes his beer, the empty bottle clinking against the counter as his gaming system automatically switches to standby mode. He stretches, then heads towards his bedroom.

As he pushes open his bedroom door, he chuckles to himself, imagining how chaotic things would’ve been if you were actually here with him and not just a voice down the phone— discussing party plans, laughing over gossip, probably snacking in the middle of it all.

A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth and for a brief second, there’s something deeper in his eyes. But it’s something he doesn’t let himself dwell on.

The thought of you here, next to him, fills him with a longing he can’t shake and yet he yearns to bury deep deep down. He sighs softly, the quiet of the room settling around him as he pushes the thought away and drifts off to sleep.

#negan fanfiction #negan smith fanfiction #negan x reader #negan x you #twd negan #negan #negan smith #negan twd #jeffrey dean morgan x reader #jdm x reader #the walking dead negan #twd fanfiction #twd #twd fic #twd x reader #negan imagine #negan smith x female reader #negan smith x you

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heyidkyay · 1 year ago

Text

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Five

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way?

Authors Note: IT'S FINALLY HERE. THEY MEET. AH IDK WHAT ELSE TO SAY. But I have just finished writing part 6! So I figured why not post 5? SO here it is, hope you enjoy? X

>Just a note! So there's no confusion, this first section of 5 coincides at the same time as the last part of 4, as in where heading into the studio it was seen from Matty's POV, this starts with Mouse's and then goes onto them actually meeting one another! Okay? ta:)

Warnings: um, moody matty, lil bit of self-consciousness, mentions of scarring

Masterlist

I was running a bit behind schedule. Which wasn't too unusual for me, what with being the single parent to a rambunctious four year old, but this time around I’d somehow managed to allow myself to be waylaid by Adi's antics.

Apparently upon entering the studio this morning, everything had just felt a little 'off'.

And after having announced that, I’d had to sit back and watch on whilst Adi had trudged out of the room in her heavy black boots, only to come back a few moments later with a stub of sage in one hand and a lighter in the other.

Honestly, I was pretty sure that I could still taste the thick plume of smoke that I’d been forced to inhale each time I breathed in, even after having quickly made my escape. But yet it clung to the back of my throat uncomfortably and I couldn't avoid the grimace that wrinkled my face as I tried to rid myself of the sooty tang which coated my tongue.

But that was just Adi, I supposed. And it was one of the many things I loved most about her, how she was so unapologetically herself- even if it meant that I was forced to cough up a lung-full of herbs every once in a while.

See, it was actually Adi’s grandmother that had gotten her into performing all of the rites and cleanses she did so often. The woman was a real spiritualist and had taken Ads in at a very young age, so Adi had practically grown up around it all. She often spoke about how her grandmother had wanted her to follow down the same path and show a deeper interest, but Adi had always been much more fascinated by music, fashion and all things that revolved around tech.

She was a proper whiz with a computer, but that didn't mean she didn't have an appreciation for her grandmother’s beliefs, nor a knack.

"Are you still coughing up a storm, you drama queen?"

Speak of the devil, and he doth appear, I thought dryly, as Adi reemerged from out of the hazy recording booth. The sage now nowhere to be seen.

I rolled my eyes at her and continued to fiddle with the wires I had wound in my hand.

"I can't fucking stand the stuff, Ads."

Adi merely smirked at me as she bypassed, practically skipping.

"I know, but it's always good to be prepared! Who knows what we'll have to deal with when the infamous diva finally arrives!"

I snorted at Adi's mocking tone and couldn't quite hide the quirk of my lip.

"Fair enough. Just leave that door wide open, will you? And grab the fan while you're at it, as well. Don't need him, and whoever's tagging along, catching on."

I watched Adi laugh in amusement as she wandered over towards the sofa, the sweet sound echoing around the open space.

"On it, Captain!"

The two of us worked quickly after that, whirling around the loft, and one another, in an attempt to get things sorted before our guest's imminent arrival.

It wasn't long before we both recognised the telltale sign of a car pulling up outside though, and upon hearing the engines rumble die out I immediately caught Adi's eye from across the room.

It was a silent challenge and with it there was a frenzied rush to see who could get to the nearest window first. Adi had promptly tossed her notes towards my desk and taken to skidding across the hardwood floors, whilst I had all but thrown myself over the back of the settee.

Adi made it there first, even in her heavy docs, and claimed the windowsill with an unnecessary amount of arrogance. She grinned primly at me as I reluctantly slowed my approach, leaving me to lean in close so that we could both try and get a good look in.

But from this angle, there was practically no use. I craned my neck as far as my torso would willingly allow me and could only just make out the tail-end of a sleek car parked up on the curb. I assumed that meant Healy had arrived.

"Can you see anything?" Came Adi's impatient voice, a hushed whisper even though we were three flights up.

"No." I grunted back, "Your fat head's in the way."

Ads scoffed at me and I didn't have to look at her to know that she was now glaring up at me. I grinned.

"My head is perfectly sized, thank you! But seeing as we’re on the topic of abnormalities, you're practically half giraf-”

Adi immediately cut her snide comment short when a loud voice suddenly trumped the usual roaring noise that went hand in hand with the large city that was London.

"Right my!" We heard.

The voice was sharp and irritated, fuelled by an obvious anger, and soon trailed off into a muffled grit.

Adi's head snapped back to the window at the very sound of it, whilst I couldn't help but question just how exactly she’d managed to contort her body in the way she had, long legs tucked up beside her as she pressed her torso against the glass to listen closer.

The voice rang out again, sharper this time, and my eyes shot down to meet Adi’s own.

In return, she gifted me a catty side eye- obviously enraptured by the sudden drama that had seemingly been handed to us- and I could do nothing but shrug at her in response, somewhat baffled.

I pulled away slowly when the voices didn't seem ready to rise again, and silently wished that I could've been a fly on the wall during a conversation like that.

Clasping Adi's wrist, I gently tugged her away. "Come on, you best get down there before things go sideways and we end up on the backend of it all."

"Me?!" Adi crowed back, her eyes wide in alarm as she let me drag her back from the windowsill. "Why not you?"

My face scrunched up at the very thought.

"Ah go on, Ads. Please! You're so good with shit like this, can charm your way out of practically anything."

She narrowed her eyes in response. "I know what you're doing."

I pursed my lips together in an attempt to keep up the innocent act, already feeling a grin cropping up. “Is it working? ‘Cause we both know you’re the sweetest talker around, Wells. Could talk your way out of police custody, you like.”

Adi clucked her tongue but moved to cross the loft. “Yeah, yeah. But we both know you’re just being a coward! What, you really aren't ready to face him yet?”

I was swift to spin around on my heel to hide the truth my expression conveyed, and ignored the question altogether as I headed back towards the booth. I also pretended not to hear the cow’s delighted cackles as she began to descend the staircase.

"Just make sure the camera's are rolling before I get back! And wish me luck!"

"Luck!" I called out loudly over my shoulder before unplugging the fan and then storing it away. She was definitely going to need it.

I busied myself with the last of my tasks afterwards, an odd feeling of anxiety welling in my chest as I went through the usual motions.

It was strange for me to linger too long on thoughts of nervousness, because I usually had too much going on in other aspects of my life. Making things a little too difficult to concentrate on the many things that could possibly go wrong.

This time around though, we weren’t dealing with the usual up and coming artist, new to the industry and overwhelmingly pleased to be invited on. No, this time we’d practically been fed to the sharks.

Because, of all the possible people, we’d just had to have landed Matty Healy.

I started to question it all again. How exactly I'd gotten myself wrapped up in a mess this big in the first place and only hoped that Adi fared alright with dealing with Healy on her own for a while.

Maybe it had been cowardly of me to send her in first but I really didn’t think I could face him just yet, seeing as it had been me that had set off the pyramid of fireworks that had seemingly burned a hole in his life.

A dull vibration pulsed in my back pocket, breaking me from my train of thought, and I found that I was very much thankful for the sudden distraction it offered.

Messages now Finnleyyy Just got back to the gallery, Teds was fine when I dropped him off! If the show goes on any later feel free to message me and I'll pick him up x

I smiled down at the message.

At least that was one less thing I had to worry about, Teddy was safe and well, already settled in at the local nursery and in all honesty, I truly didn't know where I'd be without Finn, especially on days like these.

I was quick to fire back a text full of appreciation before I slipped the phone back into my pocket.

It was just as I had finished clearing up the rest of the studio that I heard a sudden rush of voices trail up the stairwell, and stilled at the very sound.

It was Adi’s voice which carried the furthest and so I ran my teeth along my bottom lip before ultimately deciding that running and hiding was my best bet. So I shot across the loft floor and into the recording booth to stow myself away.

Adi didn’t give me the chance to worry excessively over every little detail that could go wrong as the group of visitors grew marginally closer. So to keep myself busy for a minute or two, or to rather calm my erratic heart, I chose to fiddle with the last of the cameras that had been set up.

I felt, more than heard, the moment they passed the top of the stairwell as the wooden floorboards of the studio tended to creak beneath added weight.

It was pretty much impossible to hear what was being said on the other side of the recording booth though, due to its soundproof walls, but that tiny fact didn’t stop me from practically sealing myself against the door in an attempt to decipher the perfect moment for me to intervene on the situation outside.

For days I’d been practically driving myself stir crazy over all of this, I knew that I just needed to get it over and done with, save myself the stress before I brought another headache on. Because I could do this, he was just some guy. Famous or not.

So with a final albeit shaky breath, I braced myself and opened up the door.

Thankfully, I was almost instantly met by the comforting sound of Adi's voice.

“Ah, there she is! Was wondering when you’d show your mug. Fancy a cuppa, babe? Fixing up a few.”

“Please.” I breathed out a sigh and dragged a hand through my hair as I wandered towards the kitchenette, catching sight of the two bodies currently commandeering our tiny seating area.

I focused on the man sitting closest and the first thing I noticed about him was the sleek haircut he’d styled, it was clipped closely at the sides but left long on top to keep the thinning hairs going in one direction. He was different from what I’d expected, but not just because he was older, he also wore this brilliant smile when he moved to peer up at me, sincere enough that I felt my doubts ebb as I smiled back, taking in the rest of him and his fine fitting clothes which seemed to suit him well.

I dipped my head in a silent hello before my gaze flickered over towards our remaining guest.

It shouldn’t have felt as shocking as it did to finally set eyes on Matty Healy in person, not after all of the thorough planning I’d put into his very visit. But it was strangely surprising to bare witness to the way his lithe body was currently perched on the edge of our shabby armchair, the very same Adi, Finn and I had dragged back from the secondhand shop further up the main road. It felt wrong almost, having someone so obviously used to a certain luxury sat in the tatty thing.

I pulled my mind away from that last thought and focused on how I couldn't quite seem to tear my eyes away from the way Healy’s frame folded in on itself slightly, legs jutted out wide, elbows pressed against knees, and his chin cocked high. The guy’s overall stance was oddly domineering for someone so wraithlike, with hollowed cheeks and an aristocratic smile. It made him that much harder to read.

Healy’s own eyes were also hidden, so I couldn't make out the line of his gaze. Disguised behind a dark pair of glasses that I could only supposed cost more than what I’d make in two, maybe three months.

The question of what Healy might've first thought upon seeing me and the way I’d drowned myself in the oversized band tee I’d chosen that morning crossed my mind. But I was simply just thankful for the fact that I’d forgotten my knitted cardi somewhere behind me in the recording booth. Silently wishing that I had the balls, as well as the body, to pull off the outfits Adi liked to wear.

"Hiya." I finally greeted them, forcing myself to smile as I extended a polite hand outwards. "It's great to meet you both."

Even with the dark shades on, I easily spotted the way Healy's brows lifted in reply before he- rather reluctantly- clasped his own hand in mine.

I swallowed back the strained smile I wanted to give him in return and focused instead on the shake. Healy’s hands were apt, fingers long and slender, skin much softer than it should’ve been for any musician, and his knuckles prominent but wrist almost dainty. He was a juxtaposition if I’d ever seen one.

He was the first to pull away.

“Likewise.”

My jaw ticked at Healy’s sarky tone but I didn’t let it deter me. Staying professional, I turned to offer the same sentiment to his accomplice.

“I’m Mouse, by the way. It’s lovely to have you both. Hope you got here okay.”

The other man was much merrier than Healy, practically a total contrast actually, and he showed it in the joyful way he shook my hand, still smiling away.

“You know London traffic.” He replied around a low chuckle and let our hands fall, “Lovely to be here though. I’m Matty’s manager, Jamie.”

I smiled as I nodded in remembrance.

“Got to say, I really love what you two have done with this place. Skylight’s incredible.” Jamie added and I grinned before settling into the adjacent sofa, leaving plenty of space for Adi to take.

“You saw that? But yeah, I honestly think it’s the only reason we were so sold on this particular building- ‘cause the stairs are killer.”

“I can see why! I’m dying to have something like that back at mine, but the conservatory will have to do for now.” Jamie enthused and stood up when Adi strode on over.

Skillfully, the man helped guide the wooden tray Ads had been carrying towards the coffee table and smiled when she thanked him for his efforts, the image of a perfect gentleman.

“Thanks, Ads.” I breathed out in appreciation when the girl handed me my usual milky brew, then took a quick sip.

Someone snorted as I did and my eyes instantly flew over to discover that the sound had been made by Healy, because of course.

He seemed all too amused by something and, from the way his body was still angled towards me, I could only assume that it was down to something I'd done.

I blinked in confusion before I moved to raise my mug high above my head, reading the large, industrialised font that covered the bottom of the cup. Cunt.

The studio was probably the furthest thing from a professional setting, we’d always wanted the entire space to feel comfortable, safe even. But this was supposed to be our big break and so we had been trying to convey it as though it was. But here Adi was dishing out the gag gifts Finn had bestowed upon the loft last Christmas like it was a regular Tuesday.

Still, with a shake of my head, I couldn’t quite bring myself to dim my grudging grin as I shot a narrow eyed glare Adi’s way.

"Ta for that." I voiced with a light chortle and tipped the mug at her in false cheers, before my eyes then flittered over towards Jamie, who had since stifled his own amusement in favour of taking a slow sip of his own brew. And ah, yeah, there was the matching mug.

Healy laughed to himself in the little corner he’d created and I caught the way he subtly surveyed his own cup, out of the corner of my eye, just in case Adi had got him too.

Somehow he’d managed to avoid that particular jest and I knew that the only thing Healy really had to worry about now was if there was a secret dirty message waiting for him once he’d finally polished off his drink.

"What can I say? The mugs, they do not lie." Adi jeered, a mischievous glint in her eye before she turned her head back towards the two visitors. "See you've met our wonderful Mouse then! Ain't she a looker?"

I grimaced away from the hand that reached out to grab at my chin and silently questioned what I'd done to suddenly be on the deserving end of all her taunts.

Jamie laughed at the pair of us, but even with it, I didn't miss Healy's quiet hum or the way he was now seemingly more interested in the contents of his cup than the current conversation.

"Quite. We were actually just talking about you on the way up here, mate." Jamie divulged and I dragged my attention back towards the man, eyebrows lifting.

"Only good things, I hope." I replied, somewhat uncomfortably, but smiling lightly at Jamie before I managed to catch Adi's eye.

Ads simply waved me off. "Of course! They were interested in the show- how it started and what not." She told me and I nodded, mostly to myself as I relaxed further into the settee.

"Oh, well yeah, we've been around a while now."

"Adi mentioned that you were just a kid when you started out, sounds mad putting it like that." Jamie pondered, appearing quite intrigued by the topic. "How did this all come about then?"

Usually, I liked to skirt around this particular subject, wanting to dive straight into the work and forgo most of the small talk, but I caught the way Jamie’s eyes darted around our quaint little studio. He wasn’t just asking for the sake of it.

"If I'm being truly honest, a lot of stuff happened all at once." I revealed with a soft chuckle, but it lacked any of the mirth I was aiming for as I thought back to my second year of university, the year everything had quite literally turned on its head.

"I was in between jobs and my best mate suggested that I take the Twitter account I already had and turn it into something with a bigger presence. At the time, I had nothing left to lose so I just went for it."

At least, that was the shortened version of it. I’d skipped the mental breakdown, the almost losing my flat, and the birth of my child for the sake of not looking like a total psycho.

Jamie looked impressed or, at the very least, understanding as he nodded along to my words.

"Can't say I regret it now though." I had to tack on and smiled before attempting to trail my way onto a more formal topic. "I got your list by the way- what not to ask and all that. Think one of your lot emailed it to me earlier in the week. But I just wanted to let you both know-”

I let my eyes flit over towards Healy for a brief moment before they settled back on Jamie.

"That you don't have to worry about any of that whilst you're here. We want things to be relaxed, comfortable. I know your team was adamant on everything being a bit more structured, following the lines of an actual interview, but we don't do much of that around here. So I hope you're happy with just having a simple sit down."

"Like this?" Came a reply and I had to pause for a second before realising where the question had come from. Or who, rather.

I settled my mug down on my thigh, loosely supporting it with my hand, and looked over in the direction of Healy.

"A bit, yeah." I confirmed with an incline of my head, "That alright with you?"

The singer was silent for a long second and I couldn't help but take the opportune moment he gave to simply admire the way his fingers had wrapped themselves around his mug, mindlessly tapping away to a hollow tune.

Just when it appeared as though the silence had stretched on a beat too long, and Jamie had begun to shuffle forward ever so slightly in his seat, did Healy finally reply.

"If it's just you, then yes."

I tried not to let the reaction of how I really felt flash across my face then as I stared back at the man opposite.

From the corner of my eye, I could see the way Adi's lips had pursed unhappily in retort and how Jamie’s expression had hardened into a somewhat steely glare, desperate for Matty to spare a glance his way. Probably to scold him for being so painfully rude. But Healy, to my utter disbelief, kept his head firmly fixed towards me, even as he pushed the dark sunglasses he wore up into his curly hair.

It almost felt like we were in a stare off with the way I watched him for any tell that would surely give him away, slowly considering the proposition and not caring to cover up the way I could now stare into the other man’s dark brown eyes unabashedly.

From where I was sat, I could only just make out the darkened circles that rested beneath Healy’s pupils, as well as the red line that rimmed them. Their colour was far from unusual, brown, but his were not something you saw very often, they drew you in, kept you trapped. They harboured a multitude of other colours that blended ruthlessly into an array of raw umber.

As magnetising as they may have felt though, I found that I was mostly grateful to see that Healy’s pupils were of a normal size. The only thing I wanted to question were the walls that were so obviously barricaded behind them, giving me absolutely nothing in return.

"Just me?"

Healy simply stared back.

I couldn’t look Adi’s way when I finally answered the request, simply hoping that she would somehow understand. This felt too much like a test to say anything other than, “Alright. If that’s what you’d prefer.”

I moved to push my mug onto the corner of the coffee table, allowing myself a seconds release from his stare.

“But Adi often controls what goes on behind the scenes when we record, so it’ll be harder without her there, especially with all the cameras.” I explained carefully.

"Look, just hang on a second-" Jamie tried, obviously wanting to defuse the situation, but was ultimately cut off by Healy. It honestly felt as though the man believed neither Jamie nor Adi were a part of the conversation any longer.

"Can you do it?"

His tone was almost challenging, the four words fell from his wicked tongue like a dare.

"Not the type to back down." Was all I could think to retort, my hardened gaze once again zeroed in on Healy's own.

***

The recording booth was smaller than he’d expected. A table sat in the very centre, surrounded by a swarm of cameras and microphones, all of which seemed to be connected to a variety of wires Matty could hardly even bring himself to be cautious of as he stepped past.

The table hosted an array of tech though, from computers and mixing boards to monitors and speakers. None of which Matty was the least bit interested in either.

Three of the four walls were lined with acoustic foam panels, one’s you’d typically find in booths, while the last had been turned into a mural of sorts.

The mural was dark and edgy, a string of trees sprouted up from the ground and swept across the expanse of it, its branches winding upwards only to entangle in one another. A common field mouse sat crouched in between the trunks of the trees, its big eyes shining as it met Matty’s stare head-on. The walls centre held the name of the radio show and at first glance it looked as though it had been printed on one of those acrylic neon signs, but it was actually just extremely detailed.

Matty had to blink once or twice before he was finally able to look away.

"Who's work?" He found himself asking, filling the silence that had settled upon the closing of the booth's door. He jutted his chin out towards the far wall, sparing the art one last glance before he gave the girl his full focus.

Her eyes flitted up to meet his own before they sailed across to the mural.

"A friend." Was all she replied, but her voice had softened a touch now that it was just the two of them, Matty noted.

She offered nothing more than that and so Matty took it for what it was, nodding his quiet assent.

"Do you have anything in particular you'd like to talk about whilst you're here?" Mouse asked him as she clicked away at the computer, he felt strange using the name, even if it was just in his own head. "We've got a good hour or so before Adi comes snooping."

"I've got a million things I'd like to say," Matty let slip as he trailed on closer to the table, then forced a sardonic smile. "But I'm not particularly in the mood for a good tongue lashing today."

She looked slightly startled by his dry joke and Matty found himself having to hold back a smirk as he rounded the desk, fingertips gliding across the table's smooth surface.

"What about you, then?" He posed, not wanting to stunt their talk just as it had begun. Somewhat intrigued now. "Got anything you'd like to get off your chest for millions of people to hear?"

It was sarky, but when was he not? Though if he was being honest, Matty just found that he wanted to hear the girl talk, because for some reason he enjoyed listening to her. Her gentle accent had obviously been weakened during the time she'd spent in London but Matty enjoyed its easy lilt. It was almost soothing. He wondered where she was from, but didn't ask.

Mouse snorted, shaking her head. "Wouldn't quite say millions, a couple thousand at best."

Matty felt his eyebrows raise as he spared another glance over at her, thinking back to those eyes that had held his so solemnly. "What, even with me here?"

He was teasing, but her eyes widened briefly as though she feared she had offended him, but as mentioned, it was only a brief flicker before a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

"Well, I guess we'll just have to wait and see how loyal your fans truly are, Healy."

"Guess so." Matty mocked.

***

The show had gotten off to a rocky start. I had been all too aware of the surrounding cameras and the way the menacing rockstar, sat centimetres away from me, liked to keep his stare fixed firmly on me at all times, following my each and every movement.

I couldn't quite help the way I shifted uncomfortably every time I looked up and caught Healy's eye either, or the way I’d chosen to angle my face away from the cameras to avoid looking directly into any lenses.

I was dead crap when it came down to things like this. It all became too much, the pressure to entertain, to pretend that I was fine, that I was comfortable in my own skin, to chat away like there weren't already a thousand eyes studying my every flaw.

Look, give me a microphone and any sodding topic that either pissed me off or positively enthralled me and I'd be happy to rant the ears off of any nutter willing to listen. But in scenarios such as these, I always felt slightly on edge. Teetering on the verge of falling right on over it.

‘Cause I knew what people saw when they looked at me. I was all too familiar with the pitying glance I often got spared, as well as the grimaces people couldn’t seem to hide when they walked by.

I’d had to deal with it for years. Ever since I was a kid.

And upon hearing that, anyone would probably figure that I might’ve gotten used to all the gawking by now, especially with a toddler constantly keeping me on my toes. But ultimately my son’s presence often appeared to exaggerate the mixed reactions I received.

In truth, I’d never really been given the time to come to terms with the scars that marred my body, my face. The white lines that spoiled the features underneath.

So claiming it to be a rocky start, would only put a dent about the size of a pea into the way I was currently feeling!

Healy was rather unhelpful too, just as I’d predicted. He seemed to almost get off on watching me writhe under his leer and his answers to the questions or topics brought up were half-hearted at best.

Really, I was beginning to doubt the way in which I’d figured this entire mess would end.

It was only supposed to be a quick and easy chat, the two of us sat there gossiping like old mates, proving to the rest of the world that there really was no animosity or underlying conspiracies to this whole setup. When in actuality, that really wasn't the case.

Time and time again I found myself questioning why exactly Healy had even bothered to come, why he had even agreed to the whole ordeal in the first place. Especially when he was so apathetic with his replies.

"So," I trailed off, somewhat desperate to save what was left of the segment- for my sake at the very least. I didn't even want to think of what sort of issues this would cause for the show. "Music! I mean, from an outsider's point of view, we never really got the whole backstory on how you and the rest of the band really met. I mean, you’ve said you started it in secondary school, but you yourself were kind of pushed into the limelight at a really young age, so how did you and the guys connect?”

Healy tensed at that particular question, his shoulders forming a more rigid line as his gaze flickered away from me for only the briefest of seconds before it returned, but it was enough to alert me to the fact that I was treading into murky waters. I tried to backtrack.

"But in all honesty, what I really want to know about are all the sordid details, life after all that crap, the answers to the things people never think to ask. Like, I've seen pictures of your clearly extensive guitar collection all over your Instagram feed, you must have a favourite!"

Matty's lips curled into something which almost resembled a smile then and it honest to God threw me through a loop. A metaphorical loop, of course, I wasn't quite sure if we could fit any sort of loop-like shape into a space this small.

But I was letting myself get sidetracked and couldn't help but question whether that was the sort of thing Healy typically thrived off of. He’d smiled, and nothing wicked or sarky had tinged it, it’d been a genuine smile. And I had to blink just to make sure my eyes hadn't been playing tricks on me as Healy edged forward in his seat, a coy grin now dancing at the corners of his muted pink lips.

"A favourite? Now that's the question to ask! Honestly? It'll have to be the '63 Jazzmaster I've got. It’s wicked, used by the Ramones on their debut album and then by David Byrne on early Syre demos. So it’s seen quite a bit."

After that, I just sat there. Stunned as Healy continued to rant about this poxy guitar he was so obviously smitten with and couldn't help but be utterly captivated by each and every word that slipped from his mouth.

Apparently all I had ever needed to get past the games and ginormous walls Healy had defensively built around himself was to simply be myself. Ask the questions that maybe only I wanted to know the answers to.

See, I wasn't the biggest people person but I figured myself to be somewhat of a skilful conversationalist. What with my past, I’d kind of had to force myself to be. But I was glad to have finally been given an in with Healy, no matter how small. It helped the interview pass by a lot easier.

Although the new spirit Healy adopted after that only seemed to last until nearing the very end of the show.

In truth, I had all but forgotten about the cameras and microphones set up, the fact that people were still listening in, were watching us converse, whilst I simply lost myself in listening to Healy prattle away. Positively enraptured by the way the musician's mind worked as he explained the complexity of a certain riff he adored, or the time he'd pretended to get off in Madison Square Garden- much to the dismay of his PR Team.

"They went absolutely mental when I first proposed it. I'm telling you! Yapping about time and effort, and it being too much for the younger viewers, then the plans that would have to be put into place- all that merry shite. And I’d just been sitting there in these, these skimpy leather trousers, quietly debating over when, or if I'd ever, get the feeling back in my legs. And don't even get me started on my knob. I mean, it must've shrivelled up and die- hang on, I can say knob, right? On air?"

Looking at him in that moment, forgetting everything I already knew, it was like I was seeing this whole other person. Someone who wasn't so confrontational, so quick to defend, or easy to recoil.

It was clear, to me at least, that Healy wasn't the image the media painted of him, he was simply human. A troubled man who truly loved music, in every sort of variety, and wanted to vocalise and share that love with everyone else. He was eccentric for sure, but sincere.

I could see that, even if it only felt like I'd only been given the tiniest bit of insight into the person Healy so obviously tried to keep concealed.

It wasn't long later when I startled somewhat upon seeing the flashing red light of one of our cameras go off to my left and immediately, I jolted upright in my seat.

"God- crap!" I blurted out stupidly as I grabbed at the headset that had threatened to fall off my head in my sudden haste. "Hold on. Sorry, got really sidetracked there- one of the camera's is telling me it's on its last legs, so we'd best start wrapping this up."

Healy deflated ever so visibly, shrinking back in his seat as he huffed a soundless chuckle.

"Can't seem to stop me once I get going." Healy widened his eyes to emphasise his point and I observed how he had hastily retreated back into himself to haul his guard up again.

I was quick to shake my head. "No, truthfully I can't remember the last time I just got to sit here and listen. It was nice not having to do all the work for once."

Matty licked at his top lip upon hearing that and rewarded me with another mirthful smirk. I realised I'd properly put my foot in it there, stressing over why I’d even worded it like that.

Whilst he chuckled to himself at the picture I must’ve made, I decided my best bet was to hurry on and end the show, reciting what needed to be said before I finally signed off, clicking a button.

It was just as the 'ON AIR' sign above the door went off that Adi barged straight through the entrance, gracing us with her wonderful presence. Jamie was just behind her, peeking his head around the doorframe.

"Well I think I can say that that went as well as it could’ve!" He announced, coming to a standstill by Matty as he clapped his client heartily on the back. "Well done, Matt. You as well, Mouse."

"Appreciate it." I smiled up at him before tugging off my headphones and pushing away the mic.

With all four of us now crowded into the makeshift room, the booth suddenly felt a lot smaller than it usually did, and so I tried my best to disguise the way my body immediately reacted to the realisation.

"I'm in dire need of a fag though. Will you be alright tidying up in here, Ads?" I announced as I pulled myself up onto my feet, already beginning to shuffle towards the exit. I picked up the cardigan I'd left on the back of one of the chairs as I went, using it as a shield almost.

"Yeah, of course. Glasses here wanted to discuss one more thing before they made a move anyway."

I shot an arched brow at the man in question but Jamie waved my curiosity off. "Nothing too detailed. Just some forms that need signing."

I didn't much like the part of the arrangement that came after recording, but with an understanding ‘Ah’, I forced myself to ask, "Erm, don't suppose you need me to stick around for any of that do you?"

"Nah," Jamie laughed lightly, "Go on, you're all good."

I smiled, silently praising the stars above as I nodded once and resumed my exit, tugging the cardi on as I hastily made my way over to the fire escape.

Praying that our luck hadn’t run out just yet, I hoped that no one else was up on the roof waiting for me when I pulled my feet up the rickety metal staircase. It was just about the last thing I needed at that moment.

I already had my lighter in hand by the time I'd made it over to our little makeshift patio we’d created, which consisted of a few wooden pallets and a couple of large cushions that overlooked the neighbouring buildings.

It wasn't much, Islington. It was inner London sure, and had its fair few classier joints to show off, but I much preferred what else it had to offer. Like how the hustle and bustle of the city quietened just as you lost yourself down the backroads. And all the parks that had been scattered in and around the main developments and the dozens and dozens of buildings that were constantly cropping up. How there was a pub on almost every street corner and a Sainsbury's never too far away. I even enjoyed the gentle rattle of the overground, it was all too familiar now. Felt more like home than the Isles ever had.

Looking out across the surrounding rooftops, I wondered again just why my mum had yet to leave our tiny town as I lit a cigarette and lifted the filter to my lips.

The first chance my father ever got he’d gone running for the hills and then me, myself, had upped and left the confines of our small cottage as soon as the offer had presented itself.

It wasn't that the harbour town I'd grown up in had nothing to offer. It had a sense of community, a beautiful shoreline (even in the colder months), and of course, the local rugby team.

But speaking in a manner of careers, well, unless you were breaking out on your own and had the cash to open up a shop on the high-street, then you were probably destined to either work in the local greengrocers, serve behind the village bar, or get a shift down by the docks.

You were lucky if you had a bit more meat on your bones though, because then you also had the added opportunity of getting an offer to start laying bricks for one of the few building companies. Most of which were family based.

We had the main school too which housed both primary and secondary kids, and the local college was available if you wanted to further your education. But the closest University campus was a good hundred miles away.

I had applied, but only to lessen the guilt I'd felt towards my mother when I'd started looking for courses available in just about any place apart from home whilst filling out uni apps.

I could still recall the day I’d finally told her I'd be leaving for London. Felt like a lifetime ago now really.

I'd definitely have to call her up again soon, to make sure that she was doing okay, even if it meant that I'd be forced to listen to her rattle on about coming home for Christmas. Again.

I sighed contently to myself and it was just as I flicked away a stump of ash that I heard someone approach.

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spiegelgestalt · 11 months ago

Note

I was looking through your re zero reblogs and a tag stood out to me. What do you mean you think Otto is a manifestation of Satella? I’m really intrigued by the concept

Ohh! Thank you for the question. So this is a pet theory of mine which is probably wrong but I find incredibly entertaining. Beware this is going to be long and rambley. The TL;DR is probably: the only person who is as obsessed with Subaru as Otto is, is Satella It tries to explain several things that I find weird about Otto (some of these things might be explained in the LN but Tappeis writing style doesn't click with me and so i'm really slow with reading them) :

a) Ottos sudden entry in Subarus story (and the fact that Subaru always meets him no matter what he does) the first time he meets Otto at a pub because Otto made a financial mistake and drank his sadness away. This one's fairly unsuspicious. The second time is stranger. Subaru is going back to the mansion alone in the darkness and meets Otto on the road. Not only that. Otto is standing near the light and waves. Like he was expecting him. Why? Does he do that often - wave to travelers who are just passing by? But the most suspicious entry is his last/permanent entry to the story - his getting saved from the witch cult. Why did the witch cult kidnapp him an no one else? Why did they plan to sacrifice him? Why wasn't he with the rest of the merchants? Suuuuus!!! This at least hints that Otto might have connections/significance to the witch cult

2) why does the whale eat him and not Subaru? Subaru should have smelled tastier so why did it chose Otto? Maybe because Otto smelled of the witch? And if Otto knew that the Mabeast would go after him it would paint his pushing Subaru of the cart in a different light.

3) he's not in roswaals gospel which even has Subaru in it. How/why? Is it really just because he's so insignificant?

So these things make Otto suspicious but they don't link him to Satella necessarily. So here comes my reason for that

3) Otto's behavior in Season 2 don't make sense. Not only is he ride or die for Subaru very very fast while the other is basically nothing but rude to him. He explains this with Subaru saving him but technically that were the iron fang people and Otto isn't thankful to them at all. And even if that were the case - why is Otto so sure that Subaru needs help? As far as I remember he offers Subaru help in every single time loop, even in the ones where Subaru still believes himself to be on top of things (and shouldn't send sadboy pleas help me vibes)

4) And than there is the speech which will save Subaru. And I find it quite suspicious: a) this speech is suspiciously parallel to Satellas speech in the witches tea party it kinda feels like a continuation of it

b) Otto says that he understands that Subaru wants to be strong in front of the girl he likes and in front of the girl that likes him but he shouldn't have to be strong in front of his friend. So the girl Subaru likes is obv. Emilia but why talk about another girl who likes Subaru... who is that supposed to be? Otto doesn't know about Rem. Does he mean Emilia again? But why say it that strangely - or was he just covering his bases. IDK for me it kinda made sense as a Emilia/Satella distinction (or if Otto DOES know about Rem that makes him really suspicious again)

C) Otto takes it very personally that Subaru didn't ask HIM for help. But why should Subaru do that. He technically knows him for what, a few days?

D) Subaru notes that this kind of speech is usually reserved for the heroine (something he also mentioned about being summoned to another world and we know that was Satella - so is that the case here too?)

5) Otto has a lot of parallels to Subaru/Satella has a lot of parallels to Subaru

So all of this could hint to the fact that Otto is a time traveler and/or has some connection to one of the witches (either Pandora or Satella)

But I like my theory of Otto being a manifestation of Satella because it fits neatly into the theme of the parallels between Satella/ Subaru, it is something Satella would do, the thought that Satella sees Subaru dying over and over again and just says: okay have to do everything myself. If he won't accept help if I'm a woman I gotta go in as a guy is extremely funny to me, I believe that being kinda pathetic is an important property of being associated with envy AND Otto is next to Satella the person who most obsesses over Subaru and only Subaru

And Satella could rewrite history if she needed to (that would explain Otto's memories)

#Re:zero #Speculation #Ottosuba #OTP: the witch and her archbishop #Satella #otto suwen #natsuki subaru #Spoilers #unhinged theory

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thebigbiwolf · 2 years ago

Text

Starvin', Darlin' - Chapter 1

Pairing: Not quite friends to lovers Astarion x OC/F!Tav

Chapter Summary: Astarion knows his power is waning, and seducing their leader Evelyn has gone poorly at best. If he is to keep himself in the tiefling's good graces, he's left with no other options. He must drink from a thinking creature.

Everything goes according to plan... until it doesn't.

Fic Tags: Minor spoilers for Act 1, The Bite Scene, Emotional slow burn, Angst, Teasing, Frottage (god I'm sorry), Pining, This is my first ever fic so idk how to tag things appropriately but you get the gist.

Fic Warnings: Eventual Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Dubcon (I cannot stress this enough), Bloodlust/Loss of control, Mentions of blood, lmk if you need anything else tagged.

Word Count: 6.1k

Read on Ao3: Here

A/N: I started this as a way to get this fruity fuck out of my head but I think I just made the situation worse. If you know me, no you don't. If you've followed me for a long time, sorry in advance. I may make this a mini-series depending on time and reception, but we'll see! OC is a rogue who seduces men to gain their favor but we'll get to that in later chapters.

Astarion's trance did not come easily that night; his hunger manifesting as a throbbing headache that refused to subside. It had been hours of tossing and turning in his tent, willing his body to settle, forcing himself to ruminate on the past few weeks.

Before he joined this disgustingly merry little group of adventurers, hunting rabbits and the occasional boar had been enough to sustain him. In fact, dining on larger animals had been a significant upgrade from the meager flies and rats he’d become so accustomed to under his master’s rule, but that was before all of this incessant hard labor.

He could feel his strength waning over the last several days. His senses were dulling, his reflexes numbed. Just this morning, he had failed to gain the upper hand with a particularly nasty kobold. He paid for it dearly when the damned thing all but pummeled him into the ground.

Luckily, Lae’zel had been there, hammer at the ready to divorce its jaw from its head. Beautifully done, by the way, but his blunder did not go unnoticed. All this sneaking around for barely a nibble during his watch was beginning to take its toll.

Astarion knew he was on thin ice, considering his relationship with their fearless, incomparable leader began with him pulling a knife on her and grappling her to the ground - in front of the damn wizard, no less. Some friction was to be expected.

But things hadn’t progressed much between the two of them since then. The pair rarely saw eye to eye on anything, and she seemed to have an innate passion for berating him over his unwillingness to stop for every single injured bird or helpless child as they traveled - as if playing the part of a hero was a favorable distraction from the literal time bomb in both their party and their heads.

“The world is full of potential allies, Astarion,” she had told him, sprinkled with a hint of her usual irritation. “I’m simply expanding our network.” As if a group of starving refugees and mud-slinging tree huggers were going to find them a decent healer any sooner. At this point, he’d heavily considered taking his chances with the goblins. At least they knew how to have fun.

What made matters even more frustrating was that Evelyn was seemingly unaffected by his charms.

Just how exactly was he supposed to secure his place under her protection when the woman barely spared him a second glance? Surely he wasn’t losing his touch. He was a master of seduction. Thousands of others had thrown themselves at his feet for far less effort. He’s had centuries of practice. The mere notion would be ridiculous.

In fact, he couldn’t remember a single moment in the last two hundred years where his advances had been so callously brushed off. Every attempt to make her laugh with his (admittedly morbid) quips was met with her chastising him for being insensitive and making threats to send him back to camp. She dismissed every flirtation, even if her lovely little blush betrayed her. She seemed determined to make him play her little game. He just hasn’t quite figured out what the rules are, yet.

Astarion couldn’t afford to take any more chances. If sleeping his way into her good graces wasn't an option, he was left with little choice. He wanted to make himself indispensable, so he was going to have to take drastic measures to ensure that his strength and physical prowess would never come into question. At least, not again.

He would have to drink from a thinking creature.

The idea of it was as invigorating as it was terrifying. He had spent the last two centuries enduring unimaginable cruelty, starved in ways mortals couldn’t begin to imagine--for years--without any reprieve.

No, starving doesn’t even scratch the surface. No words could ever describe the tortuous, gnawing, ravenous hunger that consumed his every waking moment under the heavy weight of Cazador’s boot.

Though, Cazador wasn’t here now, was he?

Curious.

Astarion had spent some time ruminating on who to approach before settling on Evelyn, though his options were limited at best. The githyanki was entirely out of the question; gods forbid he get caught, she would make quick work of him without allowing him so much as a single word of explanation. Shadowheart was…tempting, but that mark on her hand frequently caused her pain, and who knows if that magic would have any affect on him or worse, her taste? And Gale, well, he would rather subsist on a diet of garlic sprinkled with holy water before he put his lips anywhere near that man.

So, Evelyn it was. The tiefling wasn't terrible to look at. She was a younger woman full of vitality, so surely she wouldn’t miss a bit of her blood. He would just have to mind the horns.

He would be in and out. A quick nibble, then he'd be right as rain. One bite, he tells himself, barely enough to leave a mark. Then, he’ll pass it off and say that they had been attacked by bats during his watch and, not wanting to wake everyone, he quietly dispatched them and saved the day. Unfortunately, not before one of those wretched little beasts managed to puncture their illustrious hero. It was the perfect plan. Infallible. They'll eat it right up.

He continues passing through camp undetected, catlike in his silence, but when he reaches the canvas entrance of her tent ready to pounce, he freezes at the sight of her.

She looked…different while she slept. Softer, gentler, almost; surrounded by a nest of fur blankets, snoozing away instead of attacking his ego. Her hair was puddled beneath her head and horns like dark, red wine; rich and unrestrained by her usual loose bun.

Another realization hits him: this is the first time Astarion has ever seen her in her sleep clothes, a simple basic black wrapping across her breasts. Practical. Of course.

Her skin is pale enough to rival his own, even with the warmth of the firelight. She’s lying on her side, her uncovered shoulder lightly dusted in freckles, much like her cheeks. Her lips are slightly parted, and in the silence of the night air, he can hear her light, even breaths.

Cute, he thinks to himself. He could almost forgive her for being so maddeningly aloof with a face like that. Almost.

Astarion leans over to brush her hair away from her neck; the strands softer than he had anticipated. The thrum of her pulse underneath is magnetic. It pulls at his very being, beckoning him closer.

Settling on his knees beside her, his arms form a cage around her body.

He takes in the image of her form one last time and allows himself a moment to savor it. She is toned and lithe, much like himself, but smaller. Perfect. Delectable.

He bends closer, feeling her gentle puffs of breath on his shoulder; the warmth of her body. His ears ring with anticipation; manicured nails clench the sheets by her head.

She’s going to be so-

Something brushes his leg, hidden beneath the furs.

Her tail. He forgot about her bloody tail.

Evelyn stirs, and fully awakens right as his teeth are at her throat, eyes meeting his.

Shit.

“Shit.”

With incredible speed, she reflexively reaches for the dagger closest to her pillow, lunging at him. He just barely seizes her arm in time to save himself from being skewered.

“What in the hells are you-” he clasps his palm over her mouth to silence her.

The girl’s eyes are wild with panic, their golden hues burning a hole in his skull. He notices them flit down to where his body hovers over hers before she begins to struggle against him. “No, no, shh,” he whispers. “It’s not what it looks like, I swear.”

Her expression shifts from panicked to confused. She ceases her squirming. Good. Well, not good, but better. He can work with this.

“When I take my hand away, you have to promise not to scream and wake the whole camp,” he continues, hushed, “unless you’d like for them to find us tangled up in your bedroll. You wouldn’t want to give them the wrong impression now, would you, darling?”

Her eyes widen. Her face flushes deep red, warming his palm against her skin.

There, he thinks, that should-

Her body turns, and suddenly he feels the hard edge of Evelyn’s knee make contact with the corner of his ribs. A direct hit. Pain shoots up his chest as he rolls off of her and onto his side, clutching himself and coughing, heaving air back into his lungs.

She hurriedly covers herself with her sheets, glaring at him as he struggles to collect his breath. He can see her fuming through the tears forming in the corner of his vision. If looks could kill, he’s sure she would have him skinned alive. Maybe use what's left of him to scare away the crows.

She’s still holding the knife out toward him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? What do you think you’re doing in here?”

A fair question, one he was not prepared to answer. Perfect. He’s just going to have to wing this. Possibly with two broken ribs. He can’t believe he expected this to go any smoother.

“I-I wasn’t going to hurt you.” He raises a hand and falls back on his thighs with a grunt, grimacing in pain. His other clutches his side, a bit of sweat forming at his brow. “I just…”

Okay, this is it. He’s got this.

“I just needed, well,”

Aaaaand,

“Blood.”

There. Excellent form, Astarion. Good show.

“I - You needed what?”

She blinks at him, whether in disbelief or shock, he cannot say.

It takes a moment before his words start to sink in. She takes that time to scan over his body, purposefully.

He couldn’t quite tell if she was looking for something or if she was deciding whether or not to believe him, but then again, what other explanation could he give?

He works over his options in his head, considering just how difficult it would be to pass this all off as a terrible joke, but just as he’s about to open his mouth to start on damage control, he hears Evelyn heave a deep sigh. She lowers her weapon, then tosses it to the side, massaging her eyes in frustration.

Oh. Well, alright.

After some time, he watches her expression soften into understanding as a few notable things dawn on her. He’s never really eaten any meals with them, has he? Then there was the drained boar, which he so carelessly left out by the road. The damned beast hadn’t even taken the edge off that night, and he was so desperate to quell the nagging ache in his stomach that it lay there forgotten until she found it the next morning. He admitted to her himself that it had been drained by a vampire, after all…

A bit of silence follows.

Astarion doesn’t say a word, doesn’t dare move a muscle. He just allows her the time to process whatever she’s feeling. What’s important is that he’s still alive, she hasn't run him out of camp, and she hasn’t screamed for help.

He may be able to salvage this, yet.

She scratches the back of her head, carding her fingers through her hair to ease her irritation before finally meeting his gaze.

“Astarion.” The sound of his name leaving her lips pulls him from his thoughts. He can see the disappointment on her soft features just as plainly as he can feel it humming through their psionic link.

He didn’t think himself capable of guilt, but there was an emotion akin to it brewing within his chest. Ugh. He breaks eye contact, searching for anything to pull his attention away from his discomfort. The miscellaneous bags of clothing and trinkets she had scattered about her tent were just oh so fascinating. And was that a new hairbrush? Hm.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He’s taken aback by her question. He expected a more offensive reaction. A few insults, maybe ones pertaining to his sharp teeth or bloodlust, but an olive branch?

After all the lies, the invasion of privacy, and the failed attempt at assault?

She really is just full of surprises.

“Well, we aren’t exactly close, you and I. Though, you must admit, I’ve made several attempts to…” He waves a hand between them for emphasis, “mend the gap, so to speak.”

“Well, have you ever considered maybe not being such an asshole?”

Ouch.

But in fairness, no.

“I…” He thinks carefully about what to say next. The buzzing behind his eye socket acts as a threat, reminding him of the very fragile barrier between their minds. Should she choose to dig her claws in and pry the information out of him, she may find more than he's comfortable sharing, so Astarion makes a decision that surprises even himself.

He chooses to be genuine.

“At best, I was sure you’d say no. More likely, you’d ram a stake through my ribs.” He gestures towards the dagger at her side. “But believe me, I’m not some monster. I’ve never killed another person.”

Evelyn raises an eyebrow at him.

“Well, not for food,” he quickly corrects. “I’ve been subsisting on animals. Boars—like the one you found the other day—deer, kobolds, whatever I can get my hands on.”

“And what exactly was the plan here? You were just going to kill me and expect the others not to notice?”

He recoils at the accusation but fights to keep his expression neutral. “I had no intention of killing you. I would never do such a thing.” He leans in closer to her and lowers his voice, as if letting her in on a secret. “We need each other.”

Evelyn shifts to lean her weight on her arm as she listens, dark hair falling to the side of her shoulder. With the new level of exposure, he can hear her pulse settling into a more comfortable rhythm.

He swallows. Hard. His hunger is rearing its ugly head again, just at the sound of her.

Oh well, might as well lay all the cards out on the table while we’re at it.

He takes a deep breath, steeling himself, and continues, “As it stands right now, I’m too slow. Too weak. If I just had a little blood, I could think clearer. Fight better.” There is a question hidden in his words, a favor to be asked.

She seems pensive as she considers him, mulling over everything he’s said in her mind. She lifts a thumb to her mouth and starts nibbling on her nail, no longer looking at him. Nervous too, no doubt. How could she not be with what he’s asking of her, as if he had any right to ask in the first place?

“I understand you detest me, but-”

Evelyn appears to snap to some conclusion, sitting up straighter and placing her arms to her sides before she responds.

“No, I should detest you, Astarion, but I don’t. You just don’t impress me.”

Wow.

It feels as though he’s been slapped. He barks out a laugh that’s a bit too loud for the intimate setting, trying to mitigate the damage to his ego. “Excuse me?”

She has the nerve to shrug at him. “I’ve seen every trick you’ve used to fill your little black book, probably a thousand items over. I’ve used them all myself. So, frankly, I'm uninspired.”

For the first time in his undead life, he’s totally speechless. His face contorts in indignation, disbelief. This devil.

There is something dangerous in her expression as she leans further forward, neck tilted, exposing herself to him. Her eyes are hooded, with long lashes casting shadows over her cheeks. Her shoulders relax as she lifts her chin to stare down her nose at him, sneering.

He works his jaw, clenching the muscles unconsciously.

“Astarion, men are idiots. I’ve spent my entire adult life toying with them and robbing them blind. I’ve heard and seen it all. You really believed a few empty praises and mediocre jokes would have me jumping into bed with you?

Wha- Mediocre?

He opens his mouth with every intention of retaliating, but Evelyn’s palm unexpectedly rests itself on his calf, and the action stuns him into silence. She begins leisurely dragging her nails up towards his thigh.

His body responds involuntarily; eagerly, frustratingly, the delicate little motion leaving his skin prickling with excitement.

She regards his chest, admiring the hard planes of muscle. Then, her attention slowly inches down the toned curve of his abs until, finally, they stop at where his cock hardens disobediently beneath his pants.

“Your pretty face doesn’t detract from the fact that you’re still just a man.”

It finally clicks.

She’s baiting him, attempting to get a rise out of him.

Hm. Impressive.

Normally, at this point in her little game, he assumes most men would take her flirtations at face value. They would likely mistake this performance as an enthusiastic plea to bed her, but Astarion is not like most men. He sees her little game for what it is and recognizes it with ease because he has spent lifetimes playing it himself.

She leans back, satisfied with her little show, and smirks at him.

“So, you admit I have a pretty face?” He teases, his own smile twisting, becoming more mischievous.

She rolls her eyes, but this time she laughs. It’s a soft sound, genuine.

A pinkish hue crawls up her face and paints the tips of her pointed ears, but he can’t discern if that's supposed to be part of the act or, more likely, an unfortunate side-effect of the living experience. He’s finding it hard not to admire her dedication, regardless.

Well, that’s quite enough of that. Back to business, then.

“It’s settled,” Astarion clasps his hands together, “I’ll just need to impress you with my more eclectic talents if I am to earn your favor. We can start by gracefully slaughtering a few goblins, depending on how the rest of tonight goes. Which is entirely up to you, of course.”

The tiefling squints at him. “Oh no, if you want something from me, darling, you’re going to have to ask politely. With manners. You have those, don’t you? Familiar with them, at least?”

Under normal circumstances, he would find this amusing; nothing like a little role reversal to spice up the evening. But this feels different, heavier, as if her feigning indifference will alleviate the weight of what he's asking of her.

Fine. He supposes relinquishing a little bit of his pride is a fair price to pay.

He takes a deep breath. "Please."

"Please, what?" She lifts an eyebrow at him expectantly. "Come on, Astarion. Use your words. I know you’re quite fond of them."

He scoffs at her shamelessness, and for a moment, he honestly considers whether this is worth it, but he can't back out now. He'll make it through this, surely. He's been through worse.

Through gritted teeth, he barely spits out, "Please, may I drink from you?"

Gods. He's going to be sick.

"Good boy. That wasn't so hard, was it?"

He’s going to fucking kill her.

There is an uncomfortable silence that follows. So many unspoken questions and a rising suspense that makes Evelyn adjust herself uncomfortably where she sits. Astarion is also musing to himself, still wondering how it's all come to this. Why did he choose her, again? Something about her not killing him right away? Death may have been preferable to this, actually, but he is pulled back to reality when she finally speaks up.

“So," she's picking lint off one of her pillows, avoiding his gaze as she asks, "how exactly should we do this?”

Well, it occurs to him that he doesn’t actually know. He understands the mechanics behind it, of course, but how exactly were they supposed to go about this?

Should he tell her that he’s never actually fed from a person before? Would it make her more or less comfortable to know that he’s just as clueless about this as she is?

No. He decides against it. Astarion has always done best when he’s playing the role of the confident seductor. This should be no different. He’ll just treat this as if he’s bedding a virgin: guide her, take things slow, and she’ll no doubt be begging him for more soon enough. It’ll be easy. All she has to do is behave.

“Lie back and get comfortable.”

He moves himself closer to her, settling at her side as she does what she’s told. The flap of the tent remains open, letting in the faintest amount of warmth and illuminating Evelyn’s features. With such close proximity, he can see the gold flames within her irises flickering and dancing, a genetic trait attributed to some luckier members of her race, and a feature of her’s that Astarion would have never otherwise noticed.

He can hear her pulse quickening as he closes the space between them, lifting himself a bit to settle above her, once again caging her between his arms. One of his knees parts her legs, and he can tell in the quietness of her tent that she’s struggling to hide her uneven breaths. Her stare is intense, but he can’t read the meaning behind it.

He decides to give her another out, just in case. Better safe than sorry.

“We don't have to do this, you know,” his voice is composed, as if his body wasn't currently screaming with anticipation. “I appreciate the consideration, regardless.”

“I’m fine.” Her response is clipped, dismissive. Her face remains stoic though her fingers fidget with the blankets at her sides. She had moved the furs to give him better access to her body. The darkness inside him preens at the concept.

Best get on with it, then.

He leans down and, unable to help himself, takes in the scent of her: woodsmoke and the faintest hint of vanilla, which he had watched her pick up from a merchant in the grove just the other day. “For Gale’s cooking,” she amended, when he gave her a questioning look.

He gives her one more moment to stop him.

She doesn’t.

A bit of pressure on the skin before it snaps and gives way, his fangs finally sinking into her. He can feel Evelyn’s body tense at the sudden intrusion. She hisses through gritted teeth, her arms involuntarily raising at her sides, reaching for him, but she stops herself before she touches him. He wants to tell her it's fine, expected, even, the need to ground herself, but all of his higher thoughts are plunged into complete chaos when he finally registers her taste.

Every cell in his body awakens.

The iron flavor of her floods his throat and sets his nerves ablaze. Its heat fills, expands, and splits every crack in his self control into deep, cavernous fissures.

A groan escapes Astarions throat before he has the chance to quell it. Of course it would be like this - drinking from a thinking creature. Drinking from her. He understands now why Cazador forbade this. Before, he had assumed it was a matter of keeping his spawn weak and compliant, but this was entirely different. This was far more than a method of control. The bastard had been withholding ecstasy greater than he’d ever known.

A feeling swells in him, crashing like waves through his veins. Warmth. It invades him and fills every fiber of his being. He wasn’t naive enough to believe his first time wouldn't have some sort of great, emotional impact, but this?

This was everything. How was he ever supposed to come back from this?

"Agh - Astarion," he barely registers her pathetic little whine through the haze. She finally allows herself to grab onto him, the loose sleeve of his nightshirt tightening in her fist. For purchase, he tells himself with what little is left of his consciousness, practical. That is until he lowers himself fully onto her in an attempt to relieve the strain on his biceps.

With no space left between their bodies, he doesn’t anticipate the blazing heat of her core on his thigh, even through the several layers of clothing. She gasps at the sudden pressure, fingers twitching, nails digging little crescent shapes into his skin. What surprises him most, though, is when the taste in his mouth melts into a flavor so much sweeter.

Something primal within him recognizes it instantly; it twists in his gut and sits there heavily, as if the emotion were his own: arousal.

Oh.

She is burning for him.

Good.

After all of that teasing, the woman he’s spent weeks enduring endless lectures from actually does desire him, or at the very least desires his body. Which is just as favorable, in his opinion. It’s just nice to know all his hard work hasn’t gone to waste.

If she lets him live, he's going to spend every waking moment tormenting her over this. His lips vibrate against her skin as he chuckles to himself, causing some of her blood to run down his chin in hot rivulets, blooming new stains onto her sheets.

He knows he’s had enough. He means to let go, he truly does, lest he end up draining their groups' only hope of survival. Surely that wouldn't go over well with their companions. Pitchforks, and all that.

But her whimpering, her heat, coupled with the ferocity of his hunger, all provoke a feeling that has been building beneath the surface which he’s unable to name; it's desperate and possessive, a predator guarding its kill from hungry scavengers. The monster in him casts a dark shadow over his mind as he feeds. His body no longer feels as though it is his own, betraying him; a slave to the demands of his appetite.

He needs her, needs all of her, and he cannot will himself to stop, too lost in sensation and the sound of her mewling to bow to his higher thinking.

He mindlessly rocks his weight into her and grunts—a slow, unintentional grind against her mound. The motion comes easy to him, like breathing - instinctual. The blunt edge of his clothed cock drags deliciously through her parted thighs. Evelyn’s breath hitches at the feeling, her squirming beneath him giving him the sickest form of satisfaction, but the animal within him demands her compliance.

His hand gathers her loose hair and pulls, growling, warning her to keep still. She whines at the force, back arching. The other grabs her arm, pinning it down, and tightens, thumb gently stroking against her wrist.

"Astarion,"

She’s no doubt making a mess in her smallclothes as she quivers beneath him, all flushed cheeks and furrowed brows. She may deny it later, but her taste tells him everything he needs to know.

Her body is burning against his cool skin, and her gasps are only spurring him on. He laps at the wound, dragging his tongue up the length of her throat, indulging himself in her. It's too much.

He feels her pulse weakening, her rhythm slowing.

It isn't enough.

He's about to latch on to her again, teeth at the ready and blinded by his eagerness, when he suddenly feels a piercing sensation behind his eye - the tadpole, he assumes, writhing in panic. Screeching at him to open himself to it. The discomfort is just enough to pull him back into his body. Then Evelyn's voice invades his mind.

‘Astarion, enough!’

He disentangles his limbs from hers, practically jumping off of the poor woman. He’s gasping for breath as he comes to his senses, the mix of her blood and his saliva staining his lips pink. It dribbles down his chin. He wipes his face with the back of his knuckles and licks them clean.

But then, the cold realization of what he’s done is thrust upon him like a bucket of iced water, shocking him back to the present. He’s going to need to come up with one hell of an apology to get himself out of this one. Or maybe he should just run? Baldur’s Gate is really only a few weeks travel at most.

“Shit,” he whispers, more to himself than to her. "Are you alright, dear?"

Evelyn's eyes meet his. Her pupils are blown, almost entirely overtaking the gold of her irises when she glances away from him to assess the damage.

"Gods damn it," she quietly groans and applies pressure to the wound, thankfully finding that it isn't too deep or particularly painful. She tends to it, wiping the thin sheen of sweat from her brow. She searches for a rag as she avoids his concerned stare

A deep purple bruise spreads across her pale skin. Small red droplets trickle down the length of her nape, dampening her black breast band before soaking into it and disappearing entirely. He collects himself, willing his mind to cease its incessant urge to lick the damned liquid from her neck. She is flushed and sweating, unbalanced, panting from exertion as much as her own embarrassment. Her dark hair is a tangled mess from his attention. She looks ravaged.

It… suits her.

Astarion clears his throat, trying his best not to get caught admiring his handiwork.

She was right about one thing. He was, at least in some respects, just a man...

“Here,” he insists, grabbing one of the smaller furs and holding it up to her. She takes it from him without acknowledgement.

“I -” He begins, but he’s at a loss for words. What does one say in this situation? ‘My sincerest apologies. I don’t know what came over me! I must have gotten swept up in the moment!’ as if that pitiful excuse would overshadow the fact that he manhandled and almost devoured her.

He wants to laugh, but the sound dies in his throat.

He begins to worry that she really may not forgive him. He fears she'll wake the whole camp, or maybe finally cast him out like the monster he is. He wouldn't blame her. She took a great leap of faith in trusting him with this, and he rutted against her like some horny bugbear. Or worse, a teenager, he sneers.

Evelyn pulls the rabbit skin away from her neck, examining it. The brown hairs are matted and crimson, but the bleeding has stopped. She runs her fingers over the puncture marks, feeling the skin dip slightly where his fangs pierced her. She sighs with resignation, surely thinking about how the others will approach her with a plethora of questions tomorrow morning, face reddening at the idea.

“You could have warned me, you know.” She rolls her eyes at him. “I didn’t realize I was agreeing to…all of that.”

His heart sinks.

Of course she thinks it was on purpose. I mean, look at him. He’s all but thrown himself at her since the moment they met. He’s spent this entire time playing the part of the rake. It's only natural she assumes the worst.

“Evelyn, darling,” speaking her name aloud brings her focus back onto him.

The gravity of it is suffocating, condensing the already small space they shared. The tension pulls at something undefinable within him that he thought was long dead—a sincerity that betrays the character he’s been crafting for as long as he can remember.

It sways him.

More truths to forgive more transgressions, then. A fair transaction.

“I’ve had this condition for over two centuries, but, truth be told,” he clears his throat again, because ugh this is awful. And why does she have to stare at him like that, with her earnest, wet eyes? “You were my first. I’ve only ever fed on beasts.”

The implication is there: how could he have known?

His confession takes her by surprise. “You don’t…” she pauses, taking everything that transpired tonight into consideration. He must be giving her a look akin to pleading, because she takes mercy on him and disregards whatever question she was about to ask.

“Please tell me you didn’t do that to the boar.”

Seriously, a joke?

He barks out a laugh before he can stifle it. Whether it's from the sheer ridiculousness of the question or the disbelief towards her acceptance of it all, he truly doesn’t know.

“No, my dear. Just you, and you were delectable.”

Her expression is difficult to read. She’s not looking at him; refuses to, when she replies, “So then, did it work?”

Astarion moves to stand, peering down at her form. He exhales in relief, feeling as though he is a century younger. His muscles are lax; all the stress has been drained from his body. A novel experience. “Yes, I would say so. I feel stronger. My mind is clear. I feel…happy.”

He adds the last word in an effort to appease her, but it does ring true. His main source of joy since he contracted this affliction has been causing others pain, ripping out throats and such. This feels distinctly different, less exhilarating, but pleasant all the same.

“Well, I look forward to seeing you fight.”

He acknowledges her, then stretches his back out, extending his arms to the sky with his hands clasping behind his head. The motion pulls the rest of his nightshirt out of his trousers and tugs it upward, exposing the hard edges of his hips. He can’t confirm it, but he swears he sees her eyes flit quickly towards them before making an expeditious retreat.

“Shouldn’t take long. So many people need killing.” He lifts the flap of her tent to peek outside. No sign of anyone stirring, and the night is still young. Knowing the wildlife in this area, he may still have a chance to sate himself. With his newfound strength, he may even be able to wrangle up a bear. What a feast that would make.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, you’re invigorating, but I need something more filling.” He bows his head to her in thanks.

He’s about to step outside, one foot exits the canvas before the rest of him, when it hits him that he feels…odd, uncomfortable leaving her like this. He can’t place his finger on why. He’s ridden atop many women and left without saying a word.

But, he supposes this is dissimilar.

Evelyn listened to him tonight, heard him out when anyone else would have carved him into pieces without second thought. She let him drink from her, forgave him for getting…carried away.

The most shocking part of it all is that regardless of her dismissiveness, he now undeniably knows that she’s attracted to him. Yet, she didn’t capitalize on the opportunity when it arose to take advantage of his altered state; of his needs. With that, she’s shown him more kindness in the last hour than he’s experienced in his entire undead life.

He likely owes her for this, of course, but there are worse fates he could endure.

The elf looks over his shoulder at her and catches her watching him intently, as if she wants to continue this conversation but can’t quite figure out what she wants to say. The intensity of her gaze almost forces him to turn back towards her, drawn to her by an unfamiliar ache; a thrill in his spine, the compulsion pulling at his chest like some sort of spell.

“This is a gift, you know.” The words escape him, hanging in the air between them with raw authenticity. He means to make himself sound more frivolous, but before he can edit them in his head, more truth spills from his lips, “I won’t forget it.”

His throat tightens. He considers her for a moment, wondering what he might find if he does turn to meet her eyes.

But, Astarion resists.

She must be exhausted. He shouldn’t take up any more of her time.

He leaves before she can respond. There wasn’t anything left for them to discuss, and he’s desperate to break free from the uneasy weight of her presence.

The second he steps fully outside, he feels as though he can breathe again, not that he needs to, being undead and all.

What a strange feeling, that was.

One he decides he’d rather forget. Best to not burden himself too much with it.

The taste of her lingers on his teeth. He finds himself savoring it for a moment too long before stalking towards the forest, confident. Ready to hunt.

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #astarion fic #astarion x tav #fanfic #bg3 #bg3 tav #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate 3 oc #im muting every bit of social media i have after posting this lmfao #evelyn

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doyouknowthischaracter · 1 year ago

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RANDOM ASKS GRAB BAG

Putting a bunch of answered asks in one post so I don't spam your dashes too much. Under the cut because it's a very long post. If your ask isn't here, don't worry! The ask box is far from empty, and I'm sorta trying to group them by topic. Enjoy?

Anonymous asked: you mentioned in another ask that there were a few things you were probably going to check out from doing these polls and I was just curious which ones those are, if you don't mind sharing fjdjsj

I don't mind sharing! I had to go through the archive to remember which ones I wanted to check out, but a few of them would be The Walten Files, Red vs. Blue, The Murderbot Diaries, I Am In Eskew, and The Mistholme Museum of Mystery, Morbidity, and Mortality. Many of the characters posted here look interesting, but I'm such a slow watcher/player/reader/etc. that it'd take me decades to go through everything lol

Anonymous asked: Have you considered doing like uhhh idk how to explain properly, but statistics/data from loads of polls in a summary every so often? I've seen some poll blogs do a most known/least known type bar graph every so often. And I would be super interested in seeing this sort of thing for this blog!! It's fair enough if not though, obviously this would create a lot of extra work for you. Anyway, thanks for running this blog :-) Anonymous asked: I just asked a question about seeing the data statistics/ bar graphs - please ignore it! Just reread your pinned and realised I'd missed that bit :'). BUT, last point remains, thank you for running this blog and putting up with repetitive anons I bet aksjskdjsk

I haven't put the data in a graph yet, but if I figure out how to organize that in a way that's both comprehensible and actually tells us something new, I'll give it a try for sure. Until then, we do have the spreadsheet. And no worries, I'm glad you're enjoying the blog! :)

Anonymous asked: *sees a poll blog* "I must answer each and every poll I can"

Godspeed on your journey and remember to stay hydrated! 🫡

Anonymous asked: this is my favorite blog! Every morning I wake up and check the polls like they're the paper, just to say "I don't know them" Truely a humbling experience!

Happy to be your neighborhood paperboy!

@iceice-baeby asked: Are olyou fearing the day someone submits Solid Snake from MGS and you will choose the wrong picture Because everyone always seems to choose the wrong picture

The only difficulty will be in not using this one:

Anonymous asked: Just scrolled back through your blog up to posts from Dec 3rd and I know why those polls are closed now but I cannot describe the genuine anguish I felt seeing Mr Orange and going NO I KNOW HIM - I KNOW HIM!!!! Anyway I found this blog like ten minutes ago and I love it

Don't worry, he's A-OK! 👍

(Also, thanks! I appreciate your dedication.)

Anonymous asked: scrolling through to catch up on the characters and knowing a whole three of them was so bizarre. im not supposed to press the yes i know them button, im supposed to do my sworn duty and vote no with unending confusion. the world has been flipped on its head 😵‍💫

I bet the next 30 were characters you've never heard of, just for balance to be restored.

Anonymous asked: Whenever i misclick I feel sooooo bad like im sorry my dear friend for not recognizing you I apologize for my rudeness

No polls so far ended with only one vote difference between answers, so you don't have to feel too bad. For now. 👀

Anonymous asked: this is fun cause i’ve definitely submitted some characters but i’ve immediately forgotten who. so i’ll also be pleasantly surprised to see my beloveds on the blog.

A gift from you to you, courtesy of unreliable memory! Sweet!

Anonymous asked: Devastating. I keep missing the voting for the only characters I know.

You'll do it one day, I believe in you!!

@iceice-baeby asked: Would you consider writing in the tags if YOU know a character or not You have done it sometimes before, but I'd be curious if you do recognise some of those random niche as all hell blorbos Also I can't wait for my Blorbos turn. Because either He-and-she is gonna take most obscure place, OR I will actually find maybe more than two people, myself included, who know him-and-her and who I can ramble at for hours until they block me

Oh yeah, for sure. I didn't think anyone would be interested to know, but I can do that when I remember to!

Did your blorbo show up already?

Anonymous asked: I have been having the opposite problem of everyone else, apparently. I'll see a name and be like, "I don't know who that is". But then I see the picture and realize… Yes I do!

That's why I take the time to include fitting pictures, helps jog the memory!

Anonymous asked: I feel very superior every time I know a character most people don't

Hey, nobody likes a show-off. (<- Joking)

Anonymous asked: Wait, has Beetlejuice not been submitted?? I could've sworn I submitted the musical version! Anonymous asked: Oh wait no I didn't submit musical Beetlejuice to you, got you mixed up with @/every-character-ever-poll lol my bad

Indeed he hasn't been submitted yet, maybe next time!

@thetisming asked: sorry for saying something negative in the replies to a post someone was being a dick about jukebox musicals

No worries, but don't let it get to you. People are allowed to dislike your favorite things even without any good reason. It's a matter of taste, which is highly subjective. It's more constructive to focus your attention on people who do enjoy the same things as you!

@autism-criminal asked: What is your favorite color of the rainbow (red orange yellow green blue indigo purple) ?

Orange! 🍊 What's yours? :)

Anonymous asked: "data is not accurate" bro if ur going to a tumblr poll blog for accurate data you NEED to reassess some things asdfghjkl; anyway this blog is great thank you for running it it's a lot of fun and has resulted in some very funny interactions between me and my fiance. notably "what the fuck do you MEAN 6% of the sans undertale website doesn't know who sans undertale is" and "i'm sorry i simply don't believe that ANYONE doesn't know who DRACULA is"

Different people come here with different expectations, I suppose. Which is fine, I don't mind, but they're bound to be disappointed if they expect 100% accuracy all the time. But anyway! I'm happy to hear I can provide a new form of enrichment for you and your fiancé!

@sweetpollyolliver asked: So many manga and anime characters and I know like 1% of them 😭

I'm ngl, I'm not a big manga/anime connoisseur either, so I'm just as lost as you most of the time lol 🤝 (<- shaking hands in solidarity)

@cringelordofchaos asked: If I go insane one day I am going to try to make an English translation for Mesec Boje Purpura so everyone can know who veštica Noks is

I'm fully behind you! Keep us updated if you do.

Anonymous asked: I scroll through your blog. I don’t recognise any of these characters. ‘No,’ I click, ‘no,’ ‘no,’ ‘no.’ I am content in the darkness of the rock I live under. But, alas, all things must end. I continue my scroll, the glee of the irrelevant rampant in my veins. But what’s this? It can’t be… My shelter is cruelly ripped away and the brutal light of knowledge seeks me out like a bloodhound, it gives me no place to hide. ‘Yes,’ I sob, defeated, ‘Yes, I do know the jjba character.’

A modern-day Greek tragedy, truly 💔

Anonymous asked: was really surprised to vote and see that a character was 100% know them. then I noticed I got there early enough to be the only vote

For one shining, brilliant moment they were 100% known and surely that counts for something.

Anonymous asked: You should make up a character and make a poll for them and see how many people lie or misclick

Well....... I'm not going to comment on that. 🐰

Anonymous asked: I follow this blog and another blog that does smash or pass and occassionally I will come to one of your posts and examine the images to decide and then remember this blog's gimmick before trying to hit smash

Imagine voting smash there and then coming here to vote "I don't know them at all" on the same character. Brutal.

@ink7blot asked: *sees big naturals* I hate that. *reblogs*

A job well done, then 😌

#dyktc chatter #asks #not a poll #anonymous #iceice-baeby #thetisming #autism-criminal #sweetpollyolliver #cringelordofchaos #ink7blot #phew that was a lot

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1stlieutenanttwitchy · 25 days ago

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OC Tag Game

I was NOT tagged by @frenchy-and-the-sea, but she said anyone who saw the post could fill the tag and then pspspsps'd me into doing it, so.

I'm holding you hostage to talk about my lancer kids.

(Tagging @tk-duveraun and @arka9-2. Also @etourvol idk if character tags are your thing but your oc-posting gets me through the day so if they are, consider yourself tagged.)

Art by @merrigel!!!

Hey party members don't click the readmore there's secrets in there

Name:

→ Jaye Faulkner

→ Akiva (no last name)

Alias:

→ "Bluebird" for her regular callsign, "Kingfisher" for when she's doing pirate stuff. Her team is unaffiliated with whatever illegal activities she might be doing and she doesn't want to implicate them, NOR does she want the political implications that would come with the team being linked to HER.

→ Pilots under the callsign "Kickback", but he spent some time in time out with the Knights of the Dark Core and picked up the name Dandelion Sureshot. (Squire Dandelion, if you will.) The space station has a strong culture of symbolically picking a new name once you reach adulthood, and the self-actualization fucking Got to him. He only uses it when he's back on Calliope.

Gender:

→ Cis woman

→ Cis man, though he will delight in some gender fuckery now and then. You know this video? Same vibes.

Age:

Both 22 at the time I'm playing! There's a parallel game being run for the graduating class six months after my party, and Akiva will show up for one of them as an annoying NPC to give out lore. Both him and Jaye will be 23 at that point in the timeline (their birthdays are a month apart).

Spoken Language:

There are definitely other languages in the Lancer universe but we haven't touched too much on it in my game. They grew up in the same place though, so they both speak the same language!

Sexual Orientation:

→ Heteroromantic (grey ace) and polyam! The cruelest thing I've ever done is not make Jaye some kind of sapphic. Gayest straight girl in the galaxy.

→ Alloaro (heterosexual)

Occupation: both lancers!

→ Works as a vaguely unaffiliated mercenary with the rest of the party. (But with an Harrison Armory ship with an H/A crew and the leader of her squad being. Um. A potential heir to the Armory itself. It's not That unaffiliated.) She's also a member of a pirate crew she grew up calling family. It's not a secret to the party anymore, but the rest of the ship is still in the dark about it. She's here on a special mission for her captain and she's only a little miserable about it.

→ Member of the wide-spread revolutionary movement known as The Ungratefuls. What started as a rebellion on a single moon is now a huge political faction with independent cells popping up in every corner where there are corpros and Oppression. They are here to free you from the hand that feeds (because it stole what was yours to begin with) and bring the New Era to You. 🫵

Jaye and Akiva used to talk about running away to join the Ungratefuls together, but he beat her to it. It took him a few years to actually like…find them (and to stop getting beat up by other pirates). But he got there eventually!

Favorite

Colour:

→ Sky blue and spring green

→ Yellow :)

Entertainment:

→ Jaye's mum is a mech fight broadcast superfan, and growing up with that kind of enthusiasm meant at least SOME of it had to rub off on her. The broadcasts aren't even supposed to reach that far, but her mum rigged something up so they could still watch them. Jaye also has an entire library of pirated ebooks, and it's soft canon that a good portion of it is polyamorous vampire erotica. (She hasn't mentioned it in-game yet, but I'm waiting for the funniest moment for her to drop that little factoid.)

→ When they were kids, he and Jaye used to make mixtapes and swap them with each other, and he still listens to the ones he took with him into space. It's thousands of years in the future but…I'm imagining it's the equivalent of 00's pop punk. Cuz I mean. The guy has skater boy Bone Gloves. What else could he be listening to.

Pastime:

→ Jaye loves cooking! And baking! (The baking is mostly a stress response.) However, her favorite pastime is embroidery. Her signature jean jacket has constellations on the collar (ones that the people on her station made up), and something of a slogan for the Ungratefuls written on the back. She made Akiva's aforementioned gloves when they were teens.

→ At some point, Akiva's teammates noticed he was a ball of nervous and chaotic energy, so they made him learn how to knit. He's really bad at it, but he finds delight in his fucked-up little creations, and it keeps him from destroying whatever random thing he picked up as a fidget toy.

Food:

→ Any kind of Big Sandwhich With Stuff. Meat and cheese and leaves and some kind of sauces and maybe some onions, then toast that shit and GO. Cheesesteaks that make you unhinge your jaw, her beloved.

→ Spending most of his time in space ships, fresh fruit is really hard to come by. He would kill for an in-season clementine. [insert pirates and scurvy joke here]

Drink:

→ Hot chocolatey milk…

→ His blood is probably 67% caffine by volume from the amount of energy drinks he consumes.

Have they…

Passed University:

→ Yes! The campaign started while she was at school to become a mech pilot, and she passed with very acceptable grades. Didn't even start any fights.

→ Lmao he didn't even finish high school.

Had Sex:

Yes for both. With each other.

Had Sex In Public:

→ No

→ …probably

Got Tattoos:

→ She has a strength tarot-themed tattoo across her shoulders. The profile of a lion on her right shoulder, a hand reaching down to hold it under the chin on her left, and an infinity sign at the base of her neck. Her pirate crew is part of a Grand Parley of the most renown crews , all represented by the major arcana. Her crew is, naturally, the strength. She got the tattoo immediately after graduating as a sort of…"there's no going back now" gesture.

→ I'm ashamed to say I haven't thought about it much. I'm thinking he has one on the side of his neck, but I don't know what it is. I should fix that.

Got Piercings:

→ Pierced ears (she usually wears big hoops) and a belly button piercing I always forget about. Which is silly, because 75% of her wardrobe is crop tops.

→ Jaye pierced his ears for him in high school, and somehow he took care of them enough not to get a raging infection. He pretty much just wears black studs, but he's got a couple of cartilage piercings in just one ear as well.

Got Scarred:

→ Definitely some mundane/childhood scars, but she hasn't been a lancer long enough to pick up any with a story yet.

→ Due to him sort of existing in a nebulous void until he shows up in-game, I don't know the specifics about what he's been up to. I know he's got them, though. You can't do what he does this long without getting a scar or two.

Had a Broken Heart:

Ok so here's where I talk about the time that they dated.

They grew up together, they were best friends, and Akiva was pretty sure that meant he was in love with her. (He did love her, at still does, just not the way either of them thought.) Then he ran away. He asked Jaye if she'd join him, but she refused. It's been 5 years and he hasn't been heard from since.

Until 2 in-game hours ago, she thought he was straight up dead. When they do finally reunite, she's going to be beyond happy - but they're also going to need to talk.

Are They…

A Cuddler:

→ If Jaye can't wrap her arms around someone and squeeze real tight, she'll die. She'll DIE. She's tried very hard to keep her hands to herself while on this undercover job, but you see, she's never been far away from her family before.

→ Touch him and you're getting bit. However, once he's comfortable enough with someone, he loves to cuddle. Hates to sit still for it.

Scared Easily:

→ Scared, no, startled, yes. There's a running joke in the game that all interactions between her and one of the other players starts with a horror movie jumpscare. His eyes glow and he has a bad habit of looming in dark, enclosed spaces.

→ No. He spent his first few years in space alone and afraid of pretty much everything, but he's learned how to handle himself. He's picked up more than a few survival skills along the way, and now he has a solid team behind him and a lot of experience under his belt. It takes a lot to scare him these days.

Jealous Easily:

→ No.

→ He used to be, but he's mellowed out some and figured out the reasons why in the years since he was a teenager. Turns out feeling like there's a gaping hole in your chest whenever you think about your friends being in love isn't jealousy! That's what we call "aromantic grief".

Trustworthy:

→ Yes! Aside from. You know. The pirate thing. She keeps her word and would never tell your secrets. But also…she may or may not be planning to kidnap another member of the party. So there's that. (It's the potential heir to the Harrison Armory.)

→ Lmao. No. He can be trusted to have your back and not betray you, but he is an asshole and a trickster at heart, and sometimes he can't resist a little prank.

Family

Siblings:

Both only children.

Parents:

→ Jaye's parents, Larissa (mom) and Hallimede (mum), own and operate an honest-to-goodness space tavern on their space station. Yes, like Treasure Planet. It was Hallimede's idea to begin with, and she pretty much runs the show. Larissa is also [trumpet toots] a former pirate! She kept it a secret from her daughter for pretty much her whole life, and once Jaye found out, she was so mad (because she'd been told for YEARS she was under no circumstances to go pirating, young lady) that she immediately signed on with the crew and agreed to be sent to mech school. And now they're not talking to each other! Jaye hasn't told her about the pirate thing, because she knows if she's the one to bring it up, she'll completely wreck their relationship. So for now, she's just…waiting.

→ (cw child abuse) His birth parents abandoned him on the station when he was about 4 or 5, and he was shuffled around between extended family members and treated to different flavors of neglect. His folks hit him exactly once. He ran away 2 months after that.

Jaye's moms were more like parents to him than anyone related by blood, and by the time they were teenagers, he was basically their second child. He misses them a lot.

Children:

Do not trust these people with children. Please.

Pets:

→ Back home, she has a calico kitty named Billy Bones who's blind in one eye and yells until she's babycarried. The party has an orange boycat named Min (short for Anti-Personel Landmine) that they don't know they've adopted yet. Jaye thinks it's funnier to let them find out.

→ He's got two rats. He loves his rats. If a one night stand tries to initiate pillowtalk with him, there's a 50/50 chance he will respond with an arsenal of fun facts about his rats.

#why did this take me a full week to fill out #anyway let me show you my propaganda for the amicable exes to qpr pipeline #re: children there IS a secret baby au me and another player have but that STAYS an au #secret baby betrayal au: fun to play with not to eat #oc: bloobir #oc: kickback

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mysteriouswolf · 8 months ago

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TW: sh, panic attacks, suicide mentions [VENT POST]

I hate school.

It's so fucked up. All of it is so fucked up I swear I can't take it anymore.

I'm supposed to go to college. I'm supposed to get a degree in English, become and author, be super successful and live in a cottage for the rest of my life.

But I can't go to the college I want if I don't graduate high school, and I can't fucking do this shit anymore

I don't wanna pick what my future is going to be like at the age I am. I can't do so many more years of this. I can't, I can't.

Not to mention my school took away literally everything I relied on last year for my mental health, and even then I had anxiety attacks on the regular.

Now it's panic attacks. Every day. Every fucking day. I'm so fucking tired. I don't wanna be here anymore.

And my dad, and my counselor, they want to help, but they don't get it, not really. They don't understand what I need to be homeschooled or something. They don't get that I can't do it anymore.

It doesn't help that most of my anxiety is repressed, my panic attacks aren't me screaming and crying and breaking down, they don't look bad and people don't think they're bad. They think I'm exaggerating. But it's so bad, and when it gets bad I legitimately want to hurt myself. I've been clean for six months. I don't want to go back there, but I am, I am, and I don't know how to stop it.

Thank fucking god for my friends. I'm not going to tag them because I don't want them to read all of this and get really stressed out about my problems because I feel like a burden already and they all have their own shit and I'm in a better position at home than they are anyways. But they know who they are (royal, geo, char). You guys are the biggest reason I'm still here. And I'm still trying. I love you guys so fucking much. You all are incredible humans, and I'm sorry you're going through stuff too. It fucking sucks.

Uhm. If anyone has anything that makes school more bearable for them, or has something that allows them to be homeschooled and get into a decently good college or something, even if it's a lot of work, I'll do it. My grades are in the 90s even now, I get my shit done at home. Usually. I'm smart enough that I can do that and be okay. I just. I don't know anymore. My dad and my counselor don't want to make things "too easy" on me but they also don't want me to be stressed, but they think homeschooling is a horrible idea. I don't know why. It hurts. Everything hurts.

Might delete this post later. Idk. Also shout-out to minecraft, literally the only thing keeping me sane besides my friends.

#school #fuck school #tw: sh #tw: suidice #tw: panic attack

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alienturnip · 1 year ago

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Finished FF16 a few days ago and I do have some (long) thoughts about it, so I'm noting them down below. Reactions include the Waloed & Origin arcs.

Tagging @zadien as you requested <3 My thoughts won't be organized but I'll try my best to articulate as I go. Wall of text alert!

I think this is yet another case of "the story didn't satisfy me a lot but the characters bewitched me body and soul" so here I am at the end of the roads... with a lot of grievances toward how the story was structured & written but also impossibly attached to the cast haha, needless to say I have fanart ideas planned and incoming.

Things that I enjoyed a lot:

CliveJill's scene with the snow daisies, where she tells Clive that she wants to spread her wings after all this is over. MY GIRLFRIEND... YOU SHALL HAVE THE WORLD.

Jill being so good with acting dkfjsl <3 <3 she's so cute....

Jill being as much of a ruthless mtfk as Clive, they're soooo in tune when it comes to wrecking havoc

Everything about Joshua he brings SO SO MUCH to the table both with his personalities and the themes he represents. I would ramble if not for fear of this post's length...

Dion's contradictory demeanor hahahahaha - he insisted everyone call him "Dion" but wouldn't shut up about "Ifrit" and "Phoenix", he also refused Harpocrates' gift but then gave another to Clive 2 seconds later, then sauntered off without even checking if Clive likes it or not...

I generally bemoan the lack of discussion on Dion's relationship with his country's imperialism and his hands in that (like, everything about him was perfect to address that topic even in very brief ways?), BUT I highly enjoyed Dion's theme about the loss of personhood and to be reduced to a vessel of power and worship, his multifaceted relationship with the concepts of power & duty & hierarchy. So subtly yet powerfully done with so little screen time... I think Clive's own engagement with the theme (which is supposed to be his central theme) comes short in comparison.

Dion's side quest with Harpocrates also scratched my brain in INCREDIBLY ways, but again I won't ramble too much in this post...

(Hahaha by this point I think everyone knows who my fav is)

Dion & Joshua's dialogues are all so well-written (maybe save for Joshua's last speech...)

Everything about Mid & Gav, they're beautifully done, I love them they have such solid places within the narrative and lovely personalities too. When I watched Mid navigating the Entreprise I was just squealing and cheering for her! Her talking about the dream of flight and the danger it might entail, and her plan of turning such a weighted topic into a lighthearted treasure hunt! My gosh 💗 Gav's drinking scene with Clive is also especially touching, I felt a lot for his burdens.

Lady Isabelle may I have your hand in marriage--

Clive holding Joshua or clutching his body...... breaks me every time I love love LOVE tragic siblings

I can honestly write an essay for each of the characters (especially Jill & Dion my thoughts about them are overflowing) but they will have to be separate posts at this point, let me know @zadien (or anyone else reading this 🫣) if you'd like me to talk some more.

NOW onto the criticisms proper...

Waloed & Origin arcs were pretty underwhelming, mostly because I feel like they haven't offered anything new that wasn't already resolved in the previous arcs...? I enjoyed Barnabas' vibe but his impact on me was a big fat 0, and here comes the conundrum because, well, I'm guessing him being emotionless & devoid of a personality is supposed to be the point with his worship of Ultima, but even that was not done well... All his bedroom scenes kinda ruined all of that, not to mention the out-of-nowhere 'mother' appearances that the story doesn't even bother to explore aside from showing her naked body (Benedikta got the same treatment after her death my god I'm so sorry my beloved)...

Idk what I'm supposed to take away from the character and, in consequence, the Waloed arc? I know nothing of who he was, his dialogues didn't even match Clive's growth at that point - again, why is Clive questioning his humanity NOW of all time, when the story has been going so well? Could they have, idk, shown Clive's fear coming back to him after reuniting with Joshua & discovering Dion's descend to madness, so that they can segue into the Waloed arc more smoothly - that despite Clive's best intention he may lose all his control at the most crucial point and ruin all that he holds dear (like Dion), and that he never let go of his guilt at Phoenix Gate, and having Joshua back unwittingly brought back the nightmares he'd lived with for 13 years? Maybe that would give his identity crisis at the beach some more substance instead of "Barnabas bested me twice and now I'm wet and sat" situation he got going on... I am thankful for Mid & Dion's arc & CliveJill romance & everything about Joshua but the main villain & plot points felt so distant... MY BRAIN WAS NOT SCRATCHED

(I adore Mid & Dion & Joshua hahaha they're so colorful in 3 entirely different directions, my silly children)

I am also not really convinced by Ultima's writing. The plot reveal of him being a God who created humanity but then abandoned us all *could* have been pretty powerful and on point if it wasn't executed in such fragmented ways. If only they dig deeper into one or two specific aspects of that concept to explore...

I am especially fond of the idea of Ultima as symbolic for "the absent parent" and "the narcissistic parent" (both in the intimate familial context and the wider context of head-of-state/leader figures), which could have paralleled SO WELL with Anabella & Sylvestre & EVEN ELWIN had they not cut off Anabella's presence immediately after her death, or had they make Dion reflect deeper upon his relationship with his father beyond "I killed him I am so sad", or had they make Joshua's and Clive's memories of Elwin more complicated - maybe in how they (especially Joshua) worshipped his as their father & leader, but less so as a man, someone human & flawed? And then they can explore how the children gaining autonomy & freedom despite their parents & the circumstances that shaped their childhood as a direct mirror to them breaking away from Ultima? The frustrating thing is, I THINK they did try to do that, what with all the Inner Voice snippets and the initial buildups and all, but the execution keeps coming up short...

Ultima & the Eikons as symbols of "power that binds & enthralls" in contradiction with Clive's fight for a "free world" could've been much more relevant and poignant if maybe they allowed us to get more invested in Ultima's backstory (flashback cutscenes perhaps? more involved murals? a more multifaceted discussion around the concept of will? some attempts at humanizing Ultima's race so that when Clive says "you're just like us" we feel it a bit deeper?) instead of just having the guy monotonously narrating all the plot twists... my god. Not to mention all the on-the-nose dialogues of power of friendship & crude slavery allegories... I don't know! I think Square did NOT do it well in this one.

That's all I can pull from the top of my head at the moment! Ready to hop into replies or asks to talk some more, but yea!

#ff16 #I have both love and frustration for this game in equally intense measure #hoping that the general impression didn't come off as being too negative but yeah...#...at this rate I am just listing all my wishful thinking for things that might have happened #trying to rewrite the game in my head etc. etc.#On an unrelated note #I was fighting the Knight of Splendent Heart and was again filled with longing for A TERENCE BOSS FIGHT #for twinside arc #that'd be my dying wish...#Just-- Square #listen #just lift these moves in wholesale #or maybe even reuse Clive's later Bahamut skills #MAYBE DION BLESSED HIM LIKE JOSHUA DID CLIVE I DON'T KNOW--#jura plays ff16 #ff16 spoilers

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justhere4thevibez · 2 years ago

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@lokinightfury tagged me to share my 7 comfort films, and I'm FINALLY getting around to it! Thanks for the tag 💛

There's no accounting for quality here 😅 these are just my seven go-to movies, in alphabetical order. I watch them all probably at least once a year.

Cinderella (1997) - Whitney Houston as fairy godmother? Check. Black queen, white king, and Asian prince? Check. Cinderella with a backbone and agency? Check. This is my all-time favorite Cinderella retelling, and this exchange sums up why perfectly:

Cinderella: I doubt he has any idea how a girl should be treated. The Prince: Like a princess, I suppose. Cinderella: No, like a person, with kindness and respect.

The Fugitive - Harrison Ford and Tommy Lee Jones in a cat-and-mouse thriller? Yes, please. I've watched this movie more times than I can count, and it's just as good every time (I could go on and on and ON but I'll spare you the deets).

The Last Five Years - beautiful, depressing, nonlinear storytelling, and completely underrated. Ugh, this musical has it ALL. And to top it off, they filmed the whole thing in three weeks with almost all live singing. Ughhhhhh, so good. Makes me tear up every time.

Mulan - Is this not self-explanatory? Badass woman travels from home and proceeds to do badass things. I adore this movie with all of my heart.

My Neighbor Totoro - Two sisters navigate everyday life while their mother's sick in the hospital. This movie captures the true meaning of "enchanting." Gorgeous, whimsical, yet somehow heartrending, too. Not to mention it's one of my all-time favorite soundtracks.

Sahara - This movie is wild from start to finish. Are the action sequences realistic? No. Is it an absolutely bonkers plot? Yes. Are Matthew McConaughey and Penelope Cruz hot as hell and kicking major ass? Yes times 1000. It's just plain FUN.

#7 is both Pride and Prejudices (BBC and 2005 version) because I can't choose between them. The 2005 version is beautifully shot (and the HAND CLENCH MY GOD), but the BBC version understands Austen's social snark on another level. Honorable mentions go to the Bollywood Bride and Prejudice musical version, which is a wild ride in and of itself.

Idk who to tag, so if you see this, consider yourself tagged! I'd love to know what movies are your comfort ones.

#comfort movies #movie asks

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bubblingdrfizz · 1 year ago

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☆ INTRO !!!

hey guys i should probably use tumblr so

throws carrd at you

^^^ most information is on here... some things may be a bit outdated so just incase...

introduction time!!!!

BELOW THE CUT vvv

2/14/2024 Update: Small updates! Just added the read more line and a few gifs to make the post pleasant to look at (hopefully). Also just a minor addition to the pronouns part and just one random note at the end. :)

Last Updated... 1/3/2025 (HAPPY NEW YEAR!)

1/3/2025 Update: HAPPY NEW YEAR! Small changes... again lmao. idk shrug i literally have no identity. added a thing where i mentioned that i am quite the awkward person.. talking 2 cool ppl online is scaryy [cry]

8/7/2024 Update: Changes to my preferences (name, pronouns, etc)! I will be updating my carrd soon. :) ALSO II2 EP RELEASED!!!

◇ MINOR!

hi, i'm FIZZ/SOUR !!! ♡ view cardd for other names :v

+ call me ANYTHING honestly. i have no set name

nonbinary lesbian , demiromantic ; identity

pronouns -- any + any neos/xenos

— auxiliary pronouns can be they/them and she/her

—— HSHS I HOPE I'M USING AUXILIARY PRONOUNS CORRECTLY!!? :,)

interests -- pjsk, vocaloids, object shows, tsams, eddsworld, reading, writing, music, dw

taco ii fictionkin :3 ; kinning

sometimes you'll see typing quirks (like s -> z, "zuper zick!! / super sick!!"), but i highly doubt i'll use them much. if i do, i'll be sure to add translations ^_^

TONE TAGS ARE NOT NECESSARY, BUT APPRECIATED!!! :D

○ ○ ○

i am VERY AWKWARD, and i apologize for that!! PLEASE.. i love talking with people, i really do 😭😭 i swear that i'm not uninterested in others or mean any ill will, i'm just extremely nervous

BLOG STUFF!!!! :3

requests and asks will (probably) ALWAYS BE OPEN!!!

^^^ i don't mind silly talk revolving the topic, but unfortunately i will not respond to requests/asks about nsfw (like art or just extremely inappropriate stuff)... there's a line i draw!!! wow drawing lines are fun did you know that

^^^ how am i supposed to word this? uh i can... i can take funny stuff like dirty jokes or just stupid crap (broken humor amirite), as long as it's not sending media or requesting media explicitly nsfw. that makes sense, right? please tell me that makes sense graahjjhhh

reblogs are appreciated!!

i plan on being active, but with responsibilities coming back into play i cannot guarantee it! i'll try my best though, ahahah

— 01/03/2025: SIGHH school sucks.. i am not active as i would like to be

^^^ yes yes plz do (i suppose i dont know how social media works or if im using reblogs correctly but like. yeah do it thank youuu 👍

▪︎ random notes...

* i'm new(ish) to tumblr (i've never actually looked into the app, i usually just came by every now and then to check out tags without managing my acocunt) so emm... expect to see me acknowledge random stuff here and go insane over it... LIKE COLORS!!! being able to color the text is fun i enjoy that lol

* emoticon user, because who's stopping me from doing that?

* i'm running out of cool things to say...

* SOWA CREEM!!!!!

* tumblr's kinda fun to use actually HOLD ON............

* take this app away from me im having an unnecessary amount of entertainment from writing random shizzlewizz on this singular post what??

* oh by the way i CAN'T TYPE PROPERLY

#i don’t know how to tag this #i don’t know what i’m doing #how do you #how to tumblrf #tips greatly appreciated (i don’t know how tumblr works and i doubt anyone will see this #new user #new to tumblr #hello tumblr #new here #well kind of i’ve always existed but i never really did anything here

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alinaandalion · 1 year ago

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20 questions for fic writers

tagged by @wistfulwatcher :)

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

82, but a few of those are graphics made for big bang challenges

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

321,823

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Main fandoms would be Leverage and Once Upon a Time. But in terms of recently, just Leverage.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

1. come up for air - Once Upon a Time; Swan Queen 2. (don't let go) just hold me - Once Upon a Time; Swan Queen 3. heaven help the ones who fly away - Once Upon a Time; Swan Queen 4. every song makes me think of you - Once Upon a Time; Swan Queen 5. this is too much for me to hold - Once Upon a Time; Swan Queen

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to but have been failing to follow through recently just because of...life and fandom still being kind of an uneasy place for me.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

most definitely "death is just so full (and man so small)" for Once Upon a Time. henry dies. it's not a good time for anyone but it was useful for processing some personal grief so there's that. but i do trend angsty overall tbh.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

i have a few fics that i would consider to be fluffier but idk, i think "heaven help the ones who fly away" is maybe what i would personally consider my fic with the happiest ending? others may disagree, however. a few different Swan Queen fics would probably qualify

8. Do you get hate on fics?

on occasion, but it mostly rolls off my back because the issues are really with reading comprehension and a refusal to accept more complicated characterization than the fluffiest fandom interpretations.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

most definitely, yes. 2022 was the year of smut for me, actually. but it's always centered in exploring relationships and characters. like, yes, the idea might be centered around a threesome, but also, i'm going to throw in a character coming to terms with their sexuality and two people growing in their relationship.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I've only written one true crossover, which is "here to kingdom come" (Leverage crossed over into Hunger Games). i'm actually in the middle of rewriting this one from scratch and really want to build up steam on it because it's going to be a bit of a behemoth but it's also living in my brain 24/7. would love to get part 1 fully written and edited so i can post in 2024.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i'm aware of. benefits of not being fandom popular :)

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

yes, the two fics i wrote for the Suits fandom were translated

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

i was part of a round robin swan queen collaboration and wrote the epilogue for it. (was supposed to do a chapter earlier in the fic but dropped out due to life things and was able to tap back in for the last bit. it was pretty fun) the fic was "Bring Her Home" - Once Upon a Time; Swan Queen

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

this is hard because the ones that stand the test of time are all my favorites. i think top three are swan queen (once upon a time), nate/sophie (leverage), and tara/sophie (leverage). also, special mentions for the leverage ot3 and dragon queen. also my beloveds

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

probably the sequel to "but i leave in my heart." not because i don't have anything written (10k last i checked) and not for a lack of desire tbh. but after everything, i still recoil when i actually try to engage with any swan queen fic ideas (or once upon a time at all) due to fandom bullshit and idk if that will ever go away. which is deeply frustrating.

16. What are your writing strengths?

i think dialogue and general characterization? i don't like to write fic until i feel like i've grasped the rhythms of a character in my head first

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

actually sitting down to write is always going to be one. and the other is setting descriptions. i think it's because i'm so hopeless at mentally placing myself in a physical space. i'm trying to work on it.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

so, one thing i try to keep in consideration is that i don't speak anything other than English nor can i read any languages other than English beyond being able to pick up on some things due to context clues or my vaguely remembered high school Spanish courses. so i would need to feel comfortable that i was sure that i had translated everything properly. which means, other than small phrases i've gleaned from books or terms of affection, i probably won't bother for fic unless i feel very strongly that it's relevant to the character and that story. and then i would run it by someone who could give me real feedback on it if possible. like most things, the question always comes down to: does this fit the character and the situation and is it the only approach that will work?

19. First fandom you wrote for?

animated justice league series. shipped batman and wonder woman so hard in that show.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

i have a hard time picking favorites since most of my fics are written to fulfill what i want to see. i have three because they all fulfilled very specific niches for me. 1. but i leave in my heart - Once Upon a Time; Swan Queen (this fic will always be very special to me because i was so let down by the show's split queen storyline and i found most fics around it to be too driven by regina's relationship with emma rather than regina's character journey) 2. come up for air - Once Upon a Time; Swan Queen (i wanted a fic to address hook's involvement in regina's torture in s2 and since there wasn't one, i wrote it) 3. let's get physical - Leverage; Nate/Sophie and Nate/Sophie/Vlad (there was literally only one other fic about this specific pairing and i had been wanting to write one for it since i first saw that episode when it aired and i finally got around to indulging myself)

tagging: @deemnfic, @cminerva, @reflectingiridescent, @strangesmallbard, and anyone else who wants to answer :)

#my writing #fanfiction #ask meme

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a-tiny-speck-of-dust · 1 year ago

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have you ever wondered what the sound of a broken heart is like?

Word count: 1,8K

Note: I've been keeping this fic locked in my basement for idk how long at this point. This supposed to be the backstory of one of my ocs for a personal writing project I'm currently working on. But, later on, I read it and was like "Hey, this isn't so bad! I think we can post it somewhere" so I decided to post it here on my dusty tumblr. Please be nice bcs this is the first fic I ever posted here, and do tell me just in case there are any tw that I missed and/or should be added to the tags. Also, English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance in case there are any mistakes. I hope you will enjoy this story as much as I do and everyone has a great day/night ahead. Love, Lan ❤️

---

ps: Since I briefly mention the term Handlers and Entities from my personal writing project, I'd explain it shortly here:

Handler - a human with supernatural power under an organization specialized in dealing with malevolent Entities.

Entities - the umbrella term I used to call supernatural being.

---

The life of an immortal is a life of boredom. At least, that’s what I thought after witnessing countless sunsets and sunrises my whole life as a shrine guardian.

I have served the gods and helped humans with their seemingly endless problems. I gained a few tails for bringing honor to the gods by helping humans and lost some for playing tricks on them.

Good times.

But, people come and go. Time has changed and the gods are long forgotten, while I’m trapped in time and remain the same.

These days it feels easier to live as a fox. Food has never been a problem and having an entire shrine to myself isn't as bad as I once imagined. Things get quiet, though, when the youngsters decide that it is not a good time for a ghost-hunting night. They're all pretty amusing.

Old people visit the shrine occasionally, trying their best to preserve a tradition that is beyond saving. Some bring their grandchildren, but that’s most likely to be their first and last time visiting.

I did remember one kid. A little girl who seemed interested in everything around the shrine. There was a time when her grandmother took her to the shrine every weekend for a few years. Then one day they left and never came back. Shortly after, I heard that the grandmother passed away and the girl returned to the city with her parents.

We immortals were accustomed to losing something or someone permanently. So, I never thought I would ever see you walk into my shrine's gate again.

But, you did.

You looked different. How long has it been since your last visit? I wanted to ask, but I didn’t dare to scare you away. Not when the gods gave me a chance to see you once again.

The curiosity in your eyes was still the same as before. But I can see more than just curiosity in there. I just don't know what it is.

Despair? Hope?

Your eyes lit up when our eyes met and you smiled at me. I had no idea that I was going to miss your smile so much.

“Good morning, Mr. Fox.” You said, reaching for something from your pocket. “Would you like some treats?”

Some cat food.

“Sorry, I only have that with me right now.”

What are you apologizing for? I thought, munching the food happily as if I hadn’t finished a whole pigeon for breakfast a few hours ago.

“I hope you don’t mind if I take a look inside.” You told me before you bowed toward the gate and walked through it.

There’s nothing left in this shrine besides the hall of worship and some stuff that hasn’t been stolen yet. You can’t even do the cleansing ritual because the water has dried out. But, you make sure to do whatever you can to be respectful. Your grandmother would be so proud of you.

The last time I saw someone pray in my shrine, they asked for so many things all at once. I wonder if the gods even remembered all of it. There were also those people who came just to ask for one thing but felt the need to repeat it many times for the prayer to be answered.

You, on the other hand, wish for nothing. You might look like you did on the outside, but you just stood there to pay your respect to the gods and nothing else.

When you turned around, I expected another goodbye and centuries of guilt for not even trying to talk to you. Instead, you waved at me and told me you’ll be back tomorrow with better food.

I don't usually expect much, but at that time I really hoped it wasn't just meaningless pleasantries.

But, you kept your promise and came back with food and some tools.

“I asked the neighborhood association if I could fix this place and they told me to do whatever I want. So I did.” You were crouching in front of me with a big grin. “I hope you didn’t mind that too.”

This place needs a little renovation anyway. I thought as I finished the food you brought for me.

From that day, you started to come almost every day. Sometimes you brought a friend, but most of the time you came by yourself.

For the first time in a very long time, I was waiting for the sun to rise so I could see you and listen to your stories.

Only to lose you again as a result of my carelessness.

The painful memory is engraved in my head. The day I left to find you a parting gift and returned late.

If you ever wondered what a broken heart sounds like, mine rang in my ears. Like two small bells held together by a thread. Clattered to the ground as it slipped from my mouth when I saw you laying on the ground, under the sacred tree where I used to wait for you to come.

There were cuts and bruises all over your body. Your clothes were torn in several places and stained with blood.

I have lived as a fox for so long I thought I had forgotten how to return to my human form. But, I remembered sprinting across the narrow path to you with fear creeping up my spine like a static shock when I pulled you into my arms.

I didn’t know how I turned back my hind legs to a pair of human legs and how my claws turned back to a pair of hands. All I know is your cold and limp body with your heartbeat so faint I could barely feel it.

“Mr. Fox?” You whispered hopefully.

I nodded. “I was late, please forgive me.”

Your pale lips curved into a teasing grin, looking as beautiful as ever even when your soul slowly left your body. “I always knew you weren’t just an ordinary fox.”

Anger tightened my chest as I caressed your cheek where I could see the color of life fade away from you in slow motion. Who dared to do such a heinous thing to you in my shrine?

“I’ll save you, please stay with me.” My voice was hoarse and shaky. I haven’t heard my voice for ages, but I’m glad I can finally use it to talk to you.

“No need, Mr. Fox.” Your brown eyes glowed under the sunlight as you tried to preserve every detail of my face in your memory. “It wouldn’t work the way you wanted.”

It was painful to look into your eyes. How come they were so full of life even on the verge of death?

“It’s a shame that I can only see the real you at times like this.” You slowly reached towards me, touching my face with the tips of your cold fingers as hot tears streamed down my cheeks.

“I shouldn’t have left you alone,” I sobbed, holding your hand close to my cheek. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be.” You replied with another faint smile. “My departure won’t be permanent. You should have known that better than me.”

“But, how long should I wait?” My voice cracked as I cried, the thought of living my old life without you makes my heart ache. “What if … what if you don’t—”

I cursed myself for not being born a human. I cursed the gods who brought us together just to take you away from me and forced me to live a very long life just to lose everything I ever had.

“I’ll be back,” you assured me. “And you’ll wait for me, won’t you?”

Your pretty smile faded away from your face as the last drop of your soul left me alone in my shrine with your lifeless body.

“I will,” I replied, kissing your knuckles. Wondering if you were still around to hear me.

I embraced you for the last time and buried you under the same tree. I spent days mourning for you, pouring out all my grief until there was only anger left.

Once the rage took over me, I searched the whole village to avenge your death. But, killing the culprit didn’t ease the pain like I thought it would.

So, I made the entire shrine your grave and put curses on anyone who dared to enter. I lashed my anger at the trespasser just to feel something that I hoped could fill the space you left in my heart.

I created quite a riot since you left me.

Until a young boy came to the shrine one day. He was an 18-year-old boy from the city. Even though he looked like a mere human, I knew better that he wasn’t.

A Handler always smells different from humans.

“You have caused a lot of trouble to the neighbors, don’t you know?” He asked politely, far more mature than any other grown-ups I ever encountered.

“They deserved it,” I told him. “And you would too if you don’t leave this place immediately.”

The boy ignored my threats and turned to look at your grave. A shiver ran down my spine as he took a step closer to you.

“Don’t you dare come near her!” I warned him. A Handler would be hard to kill, but I won’t let him mess with you too.

The boy stopped before he reached your grave and kneeled in front of it. He lowered his head and mumbled a prayer that I hadn't heard in a long time.

A prayer that wishes you a safe journey.

“I’ve met a lot of Entities like you, Mr. Fox.” He said afterward, still on his knees. “But, you can’t just wait here and hurt people until her return. Don’t you want to tell her your stories too?”

His words linger in my ears for a moment. I wonder how the thought of your return can instantly soothe my anger.

“The world is cruel, I admitted it.” The boy added as he stood up. “I know for sure I would probably be long gone myself once my parents returned from their departure, but you? You will be around once she comes back, won’t you?”

A gentle breeze caresses my cheek. For a moment, I think I can feel your presence around me.

“Come with me to the city.” The boy said. “So that you won't run out of stories to tell when she finally returns.”

And that’s the story of how a young boy saved me from my grief. I still have a lot of stories to tell you. How I met my friends and my newfound family. The city indeed has a lot of stories.

I can’t wait to sit by your side again once you return. Until then, I will pray for you to have a safe journey too.

-AN END TO A NEW BEGINNING

---

#atinyspeckofdust #writeblr #original writing #WIP #fiction #urban fantasy #angst #reincarnation #nameless ocs #tw blood #tw death

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juniperhillpatient · 1 year ago

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hey rose, it's heathers anon! been a while! hope you're having a good new year! have you seen the new mean girls?

just wanted to say i saw the post you just made and i wanted to share something that happened last night that really upset me (if that's ok)

remember how i ship janica (janis x veronica) and i realized i really liked shipcest? last night on ao3 two separate people, one after another, made me feel really bad about shipping them (in general), and considering i thought it was a party of one over here it really put me in a bad place.

the first one was a rated g fic with a tag that said "not a ship" and it's like? they didn't tag any relationships in it. romantic OR platonic. so yeah? of course it's not a ship here? no one was thinking that? literally no one? i click on it because it had some things that interested me anyway and the first thing i see is this:

!!!!!!!!NOT A SHIP!!!!!!!! if you ship this please back about 900,000 feet away from me Janis and Veronica are way too far apart in age for any canon ages to work because Veronica is about thirty years older than Janis at any given time so for this story Veronica: 19 Janis: 5

considering they also fucked with the ages for their story to work idk what they're trying to say here. also they made them cousins for some reason.

so that annoyed me and i was ready to write spite fic. but then i decided just close it and quit. but then i was like, no. so i'm writing spite fic.

the other was from a person i already don't like that much on another platform but i stumbled upon their ao3 anyway because i recognized the name. theirs IS a shipfic and i was like oh!! oh okay!!

and then the first thing i see when i opened theirs was this:

Welcome to the second Veranis fic on Ao3 that isn’t a fetish story! No offense to the fetishists, of course, but their work isn’t accessible to most people. [...] This crossover ship used to be my thing, so to speak; in fact, Veranis was my username on every platform for years because of it.

and it's like... there's only 9 fics tagged with this ship. including theirs, 5 are rated t. and the other 3 are m. 7 of those were written by a friend of mine for me. for the longest time the only one was an e-rated work.......... what the fuck are you talking about???

also i think my shipname is better. and i can write better than both of them. idk, i'm just... this ship is already so small, i thought i found more people to get excited about it with even if it's a) with someone i'm not very fond of, and b) without (imo) one of the more interesting aspects of their relationship. instead i feel more alone than ever and it just sucks.

sorry to be a debby downer. hope you're having better luck in your fandoms than i am <3

I find it very strange there are antis for such a small ship let alone that it’s because of age gap discourse when both characters are teenagers in their canon media. ? Also that there seems to be incest discourse when they… aren’t even from the same media let alone related? I mean you can write them as related of course but still…. Idk it’s such an odd, niche thing to try & police people over!

You did the right thing muting them like you mentioned in your other ask. I’d just try to avoid these specific people as annoying as it is to do in a small fandom. Anyway, keep creating the stuff you wanna create & don’t let the haters get you down!

I know you did not ask for advice per se but I would advise against writing spite fic. It’s my opinion that putting that much energy into this kind of discourse sucks the fun out of what’s supposed to be a creative outlet. If you wanna write a fic about Janis & Veronica do it out of love for the characters & your vision for the ship!

I have not seen the new Mean Girls but it seems really cool. My sister who also loves Mean Girls & musicals saw it & really liked it & I like Reneé Rap so I have high hopes 😊

#heathers anon #hi there #hope you’re well other than the silly annoying people

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ashleytrashly · 2 years ago

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I've been processing stuff a lot. I'm looking back on old friendships, that are no longer. Ones I feel like I should miss more. They were such huge pieces of my life before. And yet...

Even factoring in the ADHD out of sight out of mind thing... When I actively think about them, there still isn't really any... sadness or grief there.

But looking back, especially at the two most significant ones... I'm starting to realize I was a friend out of convenience to them. Neither one really made advance plans with me. But I was almost always available for impromptu plans, when something else they had planned fell through. 99% of the time, it was always something THEY had wanted to do, and I just tagged along.

One of them would randomly bail in the middle of whatever to go hook up, or go to the bar for a drink. Like if we had planned to have a movie marathon, maybe half way through the second movie, they'd make some excuse to leave, or just outright say, they're gonna go meet up with someone from an app, for a quickie.

My music was never on rotation. We would listen to music they enjoyed. Even though I didn't care for their music, about the same amount as they didn't care for mine. That seems petty, but... idk how to describe it... Like if we had a beach day, the three of us, they'd go back and forth picking music, but the music I would have played, never factored in...

Both are large in your face, center of attention people. I was the Ethel to their Lucy. Cameron to their Ferris. I feel like they mostly enjoyed my company, because I wouldn't be vying for attention away from them. Maybe that's not giving them enough credit.

But what is easily seen, is that once I was no longer immediately available, they never tried to plan things in advance with me. They'd be able to plan in advance with other people, but I would be let known like an hour before, and then it was me that disappeared, because I stopped doing things with them... like...

they'd schedule these like beach trips, or whatever, either tell me very last minute, or not at all, and then blame me, for never doing anything with them anymore. How can I? when half the time I don't even know you are doing anything.

I think the thing that really bugs me the most, is that, to them, it looks like I dropped them all for a guy. Which is absolutely not what happened.

I see how it looks like that I do. But I would standing plans with him already, and then be asked to do something last minute with them. I'm not gonna blow off plans already made, for a last minute invite. Just like if I had plans made with them, and he invited me to something last minute, I wouldn't have blown them off, for him. But that scenario was never one, that played out, for them to see that. I ended up staying at his place almost every night. Yeah... because she kept moving people in with us. When we stated that our place was not going to end up communal space, like all her other living situations did. Because I absolutely needed a place to go to, without having to deal with guests all the time. She lost sight of that.

Before I started staying at his place every night, she low-key moved her girlfriend in. Her girlfriend accidentally booked her apartment as an air b&B for like 4 months straight... so she had to stay with us... and she was an alcoholic.. so fun. So yeah. I would use his place as an escape. And after that blew up and ended, not even a two months later, her mom comes for a visit, right as everything is shutting down for covid, and what was supposed to be a 3 week visit, turned into her just moving in with us, permanently. And I was supposed to just be chill with that? NOT to mention that on top of her mother moving in, she was hosting like workout sessions in our place, with a bunch of people crammed in our living room... while were in the height of a pandemic, and I work with a high risk population. And you can sure as shit bet, at one point a good chunk of that group ended up with covid. So I was either in my room, or gone.

And I really don't know what fucking kool-aide was mixed up, but everyone is suddenly doing Intermittent fasting, with like an extreme window. I tried joking with her one day about the kooks saying covid was just 5G sickness from the new cell towers.... and she had somehow become one of those people that legitimately thought that. We used to make fun of the "Love and light" spiritual people, and then she turned in to one, and somehow, I was standing there look at her, and the rest of our friends wondering how the hell they all turned into these people. Like she was always boderline sometimes, but usually she would be brought down to earth, or like grounded in reality... but I guess maybe without having to interact with the actual world outside of her bubble for months on end, she lost touch. Meanwhile. my life stayed essentially the same. I worked in healthcare, so I was never out of work. even in that intial like two week period.

Then after the 5g thing, she started to believe it wasn't real. No one she knew so far had gotten it, or if they had, they hadn't been sick. Until you know... she did. but like... I saw it, come through my building and the SNF.

So yeah... i bailed. I hated being home. I just happened to be with him, and could go to his place 98% of the time. If I hadn't of been though. I would have still be holed up in my room most of the time. I would have spent a lot of time at my moms. Because there were actually plenty of nights that I wasn't at his, and the idea of having to be home was so fucking awful, I went to my moms.... like... if you know anything about me, the idea that I would rather spend my time at my mothers home than mine, should fucking tell you something. I preferred to sleep on a fucking air mattress at my moms, on her living room floor. than be at home in my own bed.

So no. It wasn't because of a guy. The timing was just ironic. but it would have happened regardless. Not because of anyone other, but themselves. and I HATE that they don't know that, or won't acknowledge it.

I just have to remind myself... what other people think of me, is not my business.

what they think about me, and the end of our friendship and the reasons for it, are not my business.

#personal #friendship breakup #processing #hindsight is a hell of a thing

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mellowwillowy · 2 years ago

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Pet (Kakegurui AU)

Yan!Childe with childhood friend fem reader

Pet play, manipulative Childe, idk if I should tag corruption since Childe didn't really enter you(?), 50% plot 50% lemon (HAHAHA), depressed reader (suicide thoughts), life schedule, reader is called as sister, mentions of past relationships in the end

If you are not familiar with Kakegurui then it's basically... gambling *peaces out*

"Hee, I didn't expect you to be here at all sis~"

Childe says as he playfully traces his finger over your Mitten tags. Ajax, your childhood friend is now one of the members of the student council? You are not sure if you really want to know what power he has in his grasp.

"Let me guess, you failed to pay up during fund collections right?" The Ajax you remember used to be a shy boy that is scared of almost everything. His current smile can be compared to the current toothy smile he used to give you although there seems to be something unhinged from it. His eyes seem to contribute most of it, you guess. You shouldn't have left that day maybe? Maybe that way he'll help you out right now?

"Don't look at me like that sis~ I'm just guessing given how you don't look like someone who indulges yourself in gambling"

You look away from Childe. Perhaps you should have played with the other students when you have the money and chance to? Even if you have the money right now, who can guarantee they won't use this Mitten tag? You grip your tag tightly, knuckles turning white at the thought of how low you've fallen. Should you ask him to help you? You two have a good history after all...

"Ajax... I..."

"Hmmm~?"

Childe cocks his head to the side, his eyes never leaving yours. Should you really ask for his help? To someone who has grudges against you? You shake your head before bowing down to him, muttering a small apology before walking away from him. Something feels wrong and you're not going to take any risks by involving yourself with a member of the student council.

----

You are currently hiding in one of the academy's most hidden and unattended spots. This garden has always been empty which makes it a perfect spot for you to hide from everyone. Maybe you'll survive in your school days by hiding away from people? The debts increase with each funds collection and game the students proposed to you forcefully to the point that a life schedule has been given to you.

You dare not read the life schedule. You wonder what kind of disturbing things are written inside. You've heard from people how their life schedule has trampled down every aspect of their life. And now, you are one of them.

You sob to yourself, hiding your face from the sun ray as you ponder what you should do now. To follow all that is written in the life schedule or to find a way out now even if it'll only throw you down into another rabbit hole.

"It's not rare for the life schedule to ask you to become a prostitute even if your face is mid-good you know~"

You jump up from the voice. A familiar voice with a hint of... playfulness? You look up and find the source, Childe. You shake your head in disbelief, you know that the schedule probably asks you to become one even if it's not directly stated. The last sugar-coated statement it'll give you would be a 'marriage' with someone who'll gladly wash away your debts in exchange for you.

Childe smiles at you before patting your head while giving you words of reassurance, contrary to you, his hand is warm with affection but you can feel him shaking a bit just like you. You look up at him and shoot him a questioning look,

"Ajax, why are you shaking?"

Childe was startled for a while before bursting into laughter, saying how random and straightforward you are as a person. You couldn't comprehend what he means and only look away with red washing your face. Are you not supposed to ask him why?

Childe looks at your curling form, as round and small as a hamster. How does it feel to hold you up like a hamster? To place you inside a cage and provide everything you need. An adorable and comfortable cage home, endless stock of food and water, countless toys for you to play with and-

"Ajax, I feel like things would be better if I disappear right now..."

Childe's eyes widen at your statement. This is bad. You can just disappear without a worry in this world because you are an orphan, no one is bound with you and no one is dragged down with you. If only there was still someone who's somehow related to you then you'll have to think twice about everything. But your only supposedly family had been left rotten under the snow.

"Hey hey, come one now. What will be left of me if you were to disappear?"

You look up at him again, his eyes are empty as usual although this time hints of fear and anger are evident in his eyes. But why? You shift your gaze to the sky, engraving the beauty into your memories. Maybe you'll jump down facing toward the sky instead of drinking some candies?

"I won't allow that"

Oh, did you say it out loud? Childe's face looks so much in pain now. Do you matter to him that much to the point he's really upset with you? Childe crouches in front of you, his form blocking the view of the sky. With a shaky hand, he cups your face gently, his thumb circling your cheek as though trying to calm you down.

"I'll help you out"

He'll help you out? He'll save you? Childe takes the life schedule and keeps it inside his blazer while muttering out endless reassurance for you.

"While I can't just sweep your debts away, I can... show to everyone that you are in fact, mine"

"But... how?"

Childe smiles at you again, his eyes glinting in excitement this time.

----

The collar is not tight but it's not loose as well. With every move you make, the chains will dangle as Childe holds the leash with pride. On the other hand, you are trying your best to cover your face with your hair, is this supposed to be a way to save you or humiliate you? Your hands gripping the hem of your skirt tightly, your lip bleeding from the amount of strength you've bitten it.

Is this the right thing to do? Childe did say something about showing them who you belong to will scare the other students from toying with you. You figure that this is probably some kind of public announcement that you are his now although you are not sure if all the students really understand it. What would happen to those who didn't get the hint? Well, they are in fact out of a sudden, lost in a big game and a fido or mitten tag is on their neck now.

You look up toward Childe, his smile never leaving his face as he walks with you in pride.

----

"I demand... a public match... with you!"

Your voice booms as you glare at Childe with your mitten tag in your hand. While Childe enjoys gambling, the last thing he could think of would be you demanding a public match with him. Don't get him wrong though, he loves the idea of gambling with you, in fact, he's actually aching for it. Will it be a game of luck, bluff, or skill?

But why so sudden?

He examines his surroundings, and there he sees familiar figures, Rosalyne and Zhongli. What are they planning? Doesn't matter, at least for now. Either way, he has to accept your request although feeling a bit bitter about the fact that you've been deceived by them to turn against him.

"Then shall we play like the old times, Sister?"

Childe's smile reaches his eyes for the first time.

----

"Ahh~ it's a shame you lost Sis~"

Childe's hands are on your tense shoulder while you shudder in disbelief. You lost? You lost despite cheating your whole way during the game? There's only 1 possibility for this and that is Childe figuring out the cheats earlier than you expected and using it on his own. And yet those student councils said-!

"Sister~ it's time for you to pay up"

Childe yanks your face toward him by your cheek while cooing at you. His finger occasionally taps your cheek as his eyes bore into yours. The grip on your face starts to feel painful with each second you leave him unanswered. It doesn't take long until Childe lets go of you and wrap the collar back on your neck, tugging you up with the chain leash. He tugs it strongly, strong enough to make you fall from your seat.

"Doesn't matter, I'll still be the one who sweeps your debts away anyway"

You look up at him from the floor with a puzzled look on your face. What did he just say?

"Ah, right"

Childe takes a book out of his blazer, your... life schedule? Childe crouches down at your eye level as he opens the first few pages of the book before placing it in front of your face, allowing you to read it for the first time.

You should have read it that day.

"Do you understand it now, Sister? The moment you failed to pay, the moment I saw you, the moment you stepped into this academy, your whole life is all mine to claim and plan already~"

For the first time, the chains on your collar feel way too heavy for you.

----

You've lost your mitten tag but the collar remains there. You are not sure if it's actually to warn people or to just show people off that you, in fact, are claimed already. You scoff to yourself, it's definitely the second. Who in their sane mind doesn't know about your public match with him and how you lost terribly. How you lost everything the moment you stepped into this academy. The public match was nothing but just a pastime for him.

The life schedule contents, on the other hand, are filled with Childe's names, from the beginning until the end.

Marriage, career, children, preferences, everything. Should you be grateful that the person you've been sold to is Childe himself and not someone else? The person who you'll spend the rest of your life would be him. The person who you'll share your bed with is him. The person who you'll create a family with would be him despite not wanting one. The person who your children will call father would be him. Him. Him. Him. You bring your hand to your mouth, your throat and guts itching for vomit. Your little Ajax has tricked you.

----

(NSFW, MDNI *doubt*)

"They tricked you into having a public match with me"

He tricked you, not them.

"And you just agreed with it"

Why wouldn't you when you finally learn about how he's the one who has been pulling all the strings?

"They are pulling strings behind my back"

He is pulling strings behind your back, reducing you into nothing but a puppet.

"They are targetting the president by making the housepets gamble with all the student councils at the same time"

And they failed, horribly.

"Signora was not a part of it so there's nothing I can do about her"

The woman who whispers endless encouragement for you to take him.

"But Zhongli... I have to be certain to blow him fatally. For going against the president despite being a member of the student council..."

Childe leans toward you, his face barely away from yours before he licks your lip.

"And for making my beloved Sister go against me"

That is your last straw before you slap him, his face thrown to the other side, savoring every moment of the pain on his cheek.

"I'm not... your Sister... nor your friend!"

You yell at him hysterically. Childe only chuckles at you before making his advances on you, his lips crashing with yours. You try your best to not give in and open up but the way Childe nibbles with your lip and how his hands travel all across your body makes you give in to him in the end. In the end, you give in and let him in, savoring every inch of your mouth as his hands work with your uniform. No matter how many times you hit his chest, pull his hair, kicking him, he won't budge. Instead, he takes pleasure in having you struggling under him. His hands travel down to your skirt, caressing your thigh in a circular motion before cupping your heat. You know where this is going and your tears start to flow down from your eyes as you shake your head while begging him to stop.

"Mmh, not gonna. If you are no longer my Sister nor my friend then that'll only mean one thing, you are my pet"

Childe tugs you by the collar before biting your exposed clavicle, littering it with bite marks.

"I doubt you are ready to abandon your pride to become my Sister again hm? If so then allow me to treat you like how I would to a pet"

Childe starts off easy and gentle, rubbing your clit over and over while he undresses you. You try your best to contain your moans, familiar but unfamiliar with the sensations. It doesn't take long for you to drench your panties and stocking, tempting Childe to rip it and put your panties aside. You gasp at Childe's finger entering you, familiarizing itself with your gummy walls.

"Mmh, so tight. Say, have you ever touched yourself pet?"

Coos Childe as another finger enters you, the stretch isn't as painful as you expected because Childe makes sure that you are wet enough for him to enter you. His tongue dances from your jaw toward your ear, nibbling it like how one would with candy. His fingers curl knuckles deep inside you, feeling something blocking him he knows what he has to do now.

"So it really is your first time..." he mumbles to himself before retreating his fingers. What you expected to be a break for you was cut short when he starts abusing your clit. He doesn't want your first time to be like this but he doesn't feel like leaving you unattended as well. You lean onto Childe's chest as his fingers move at a crazy speed, your stomach filled with butterflies while your moans slip out from your throat. Childe's cock twitches at how your hands hold him in place tightly as your support, he didn't expect you to abandon some of your pride and cling to him for a false sense of security. It only makes Childe even happier as his fingers now tease you in a circular motion while nipping your neck, leaving hickeys and bite marks here and there.

"Toi.. toilet, toilet, Ajax, I-"

"Toilet hm? Ah, it's okay, just do it here. As an owner, I'll clean up your mess later hm? Aren't I a good owner?"

Childe finds it adorable how you are not aware of the fact that you are in fact squirting right now. He'll make sure to use this to his advantage before you finally know what's going on with you. Your eyes roll back as you moan out loudly, your toes curling while your hands never let go of Childe.

"Mmh, good girl good girl, you've done well hm? Look at all the mess you've done too"

You look down at the puddle below you, ashamed, you bury your face into his chest whether you like it or not. Childe slides his pants down, his boxer showing a huge bulge restrained under the fabric. Childe slides his boxer down and his cock springs out immediately, making you flinch at the sight. That, entering you? That large, veiny thing? You look at Childe in horror as you let go of him. Seeing this, Childe's hand yank your hands back and place it on his chest,

"We won't, we won't~ I prefer doing it somewhere much more romantic although I can't help but show you what this little guy can do"

He starts by collecting the precum on the tip before spreading it all over his shaft. You try to look away but Childe's hand says otherwise, forcing you to watch him pump himself as his grip on your jaw tightens every time you try to look away from it or shut your eyes close. Every now and then, he'll kiss you or touch you again.

"Haah.. how do you think... this will enter you? Stretching you... ripping you apart from the inside... your blood... on me... on the bedsheet..."

Even when chasing his high, he still manages to make you squirm in embarrassment from all the details. His tip looks painfully red now while his thighs start to spasm. What surprises you is how Childe places your hand on top of his red tip as he strokes himself even faster. You try to pull away but his hand won't allow you to as he tightens his grip on your hand, making you cup his tip.

"Com- coming, coming- ah!"

And that's all you get as a warning before he spurts out all over your palm, his mouth wide open as his eyes and head roll back. Your face flushes red as he lets go of your hand, letting you observe how he has tainted your hand.

"Hehe, I'll make sure to book a room for us two soon, pet"

Right, you are no longer his Sister nor his friend. Until you are finally ready to abandon your pride, he'll be treating you like a pet. The collar and leash's chain serve as a reminder. A pet.

"I love you... ,______"

Another kiss to seal your fate.

(Yeah I'm using a Kakegurui Futago ref here)

____

Grudge

"Where is Sister?"

Childe asked his mother. His mother only looked away from him while ushering him to sit down. Childe's eyes roam around the whole room, looking for you.

He couldn't find you.

"...her butler... came and took her away when you were missing"

Childe's heart dropped. You left him. You left him while he was trying his best to survive the abyss? You left him despite him begging for you to stay? He was only gone for 3 days and you couldn't even wait to properly bid farewell to him?

"The butler said that something urgent came up"

Is it truly that urgent to steal you away from him?

"That she is in danger..."

He was the one who's in danger and not you.

"That someone might... "

Kill you? As much as he hates you leaving him without any farewell, he'd rather have your butler killed instead of you.

And she was. As a result of it, you had to stand all by yourself without anyone guiding and protecting you anymore.

An orphan without anyone as your guardian.

Possible scenario

_____

OCs Note: Zili couldn't find you in this world after she was resurrected so yeah, you are pretty much an orphan without a guardian.

#yandere fatui #yandere childe #yandere childe x reader #childe x y/n #childe #childe x reader smut #childe x reader #childe smut #tartaglia #genshin kakegurui au #genshin x reader #fatui x reader #fatui #kakegurui au

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