#in my country we say: he who speaks whatever he wishes hears what he does not

[alwaysthefool]

Orbiter of Bad Days (x Rafayel)

Synopsis: Rafayel accidentally puts you on the spot by asking you his views on his art

Warnings: OOC MC in the sense they’re a bit mean here, feelings of embarrassment, you had a bad day

Tags: angst, comfort, GN Reader, MC/Reader x Rafayel

It hadn’t been a good day. You had been yelled at by a random person complaining to the Hunter’s Association about a different hunter causing damage to surrounding properties while doing his duties. The government would compensate for it anyway, so why did you have to listen to that? After that, you tripped on the pavement, and were scolded by a passerby, who wasn’t even affected, for carelessness. To make matters worse, you had to attend Rafayel’s art exhibit in the evening as his bodyguard. You wanted to bail, but Thomas got to you first with a text.

“We need you here, there’s already many vicious reporters not on the guest list.”

That was just your luck. You quickly changed to a suit, befitting a bodyguard, instead of dressing fancy like you usually would when you went to these places with Rafayel. After all, you were employed by him, right?

You took a bus to the event this time, worrying that driving would end up in you getting yelled at by someone again, and surprisingly nothing went wrong on your way to the gallery, making you think perhaps your bad luck streak had ended.

You quickly met Thomas, who too frowned at your attire, but then shrugged. “Just… make sure they don’t reach him, okay?” He said, referring to the infamous reporters known to trick people into saying incriminating things. You wanted to ask if you could just kick them out, but they’d probably make a big deal about that too.

You couldn’t really see Rafayel anywhere, and you forgot to charge your phone so you couldn’t text him. I guess he’s getting ready for the event.

You sighed, seeing the hall fill up as Rafayel’s paintings were displayed in beautiful 3D layers by a projector on the stage. The reporters were impressed, capturing the scenes, and the famous guests that attended.

“But he’s a little late, isn’t he?” One of them spoke a little too loudly, making heads turn.

“He’ll be here any minute.” You replied, not even sure if that was true.

And that was when you became the target of the night for those two, a camera and mic shoved into your exhausted face.

“You’re his bodyguard, aren’t you?” The reporter’s smile was venomously sweet, but not exactly fake. He was happy to have caught such a prey.

“I… yeah.” You tried, and failed, to sound confident. I’m sorry, Rafayel. You thought, knowing you’d fall in whatever trap they set for you. Whatever though, you had been the villain for many people today, what was wrong with one more?

“So, what do you think about his art?”

“I don’t think my opinion matters here.”

“Actually, it does.” A familiar voice spoke. There he was, in a blue suit, walking towards you, turning all heads towards you.

You didn’t know what to say. The hall was filled with art graduates, people from foreign countries, geniuses, and him. How could you say anything that mattered more than what they were thinking?

“I think it’s aesthetically pleasing.” You murmured. People in the crowd hummed in agreement, and you wished Rafayel would just leave it at that.

“Is that all?” He inquired. You looked up at him, his eyes piercing your face.

Rafayel, I feel embarrassed. Please just shut the fuck up.

Maybe he sensed that, how could he not? He was excellent at knowing what you felt, but he didn’t say anything, as if he really wanted to hear what you had to say.

Fine, then.

“I also think… it’s ridiculous.” You weren’t really talking about the paintings. “You critique the ignorance of elites in society, but it’s funny because you’re being cruel right now.”

Rafayel’s face turned into one of concern immediately, and he tried to speak, but you continued. “Did you get tomorrow’s headlines, guys? Did you have fun, Raf?”

You wanted to take everything you said to him immediately. You were lashing out at the wrong man. Before anyone could see the tears that filled your eyes, you murmured an apology and ran backstage. This was probably the worst day of- well, just the month, and it was only the 3rd. You found a stair to sit on, behind the projector room, and cried with your knees folded. You were embarrassed. You made a fool out of yourself in front of everyone. You ruined Rafayel’s day. You-

“There you are.” You didn’t know when he came to sit beside you, but he was kind in a way you felt you didn’t deserve.

“I’m sorry.” You spoke in a cracked voice, holding your knees closer to yourself.

“What do you have to apologise for?” Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him try to reach out for you, but then keep his hand to himself. “I shouldn’t have put you in that situation.”

“Yeah, no, you shouldn’t have.” You admitted, looking up at him with a tear stained face. “But it still didn’t make it okay for me to be rude about your art.”

You wiped your face with your sleeve, turning towards him. He had a neutral expression but there was a much deeper sadness in his eyes. He once told you that eyes don’t lie, and as long as your eyes are visible, you’d always be able to catch someone in one.

He was hurt, deeply.

“I didn’t mean it, you know. I was… I just don’t know why you’d ask me that in front of people you know would make fun of how uneducated I am.”

“No, you’re not-“ Rafayel wasn’t sure what to say. “Does it matter what they think? I think your opinion is the most important, and in this entire gallery, you’re the only one who matters to me.”

“Bet you say that to everyone you’ve been with.” You teased, and he hoped you didn’t see his red ears. He was grateful you weren’t taking him seriously, because would his words even make sense to you, who remembered nothing? But yes, he did only say that to everyone he’d been with, which was you, you, and always you.

“What other people think matters to me.” Your tone was soft, with hints of bitterness. “You wouldn’t understand, because you’re different. You think differently than I do. I… live on earth, and you live someplace I can’t reach. I see glimpses of it when we’re alone, I feel it through your art, but when I’m around people, I feel their words, their judgment, their voices, and I’m back on the ground. I start feeling small, and sometimes, I become someone you wouldn’t like.”

“Hey.” He pulled you closer, resting his head in your shoulder. “There isn’t one version of you I wouldn’t like. I like it when you get angry, and I like your ugly side. I like it when you lash out because you had a bad day, and I like all your little thoughts.”

“I like you too.” You rested your own head on his.

He smiled, his heart going several miles in a minute. He held your hand in his, tracing the shape of a fish with a heart tail. “Are we in my world right now?” He asked, not caring about the event.

“Yeah. And there’s no place I’d rather be.”

-x-

[siffrinsfrozendreams]

This is my second time trying to make this post. it will probably be as much of a mess as the first draft but oh well.

Rant? Appreciation post? Character analysis? yeah idk what this is but spoilers for Act 5 and Twohats/secret ending ahead

Act 5 Siffrin lives in my head rent free. His break was SO good, and this post is me going off about them. Specifically, this post was brought on by how Siffrin tried to destroy the world, rather than themself.

It is very interesting to me how Siffrin bends and breaks reality and the world in this final loop.

How Loop, in their giving up, took it out on themself, but Siffrin takes it out on the world.

His last loop, their last attempt at breaking out of this eternal hell, because he can't do it again. They're hopeless. They're grasping at any sliver of hope they can, but at this point he can't deny how stupid it is. How pointless this is. How all this effort will likely amount to nothing, and that he's trapped here forever. That nothing will break them out of this.

"I know its stupid, I know its a long shot, but it has to be this!"

This quote from Siff's argument with Loop towards the beginning of Act 5 always stuck with me. Siffrin, this whole time, has always told himself that things are fine. As long as they have a path to follow, they'll be fine. Slowly, we see them struggle with keeping this up, but he always comes back to it.

Not this time.

This time, its all too much. He knows his plan is stupid. They know this won't work. Why would it? But also... what else can he do? What other choices does he have? Being honest with themselves and admitting that this won't work is the same as admitting that he's trapped here forever. That reality is seeping in, but he's still struggling for whatever shreds of hope they can manage. Whatever flicker of light they can see, they'll take it, even if they know the light will go out as soon as he does. Even if he knows it will amount to nothing. He has to.

Then he realizes that Loop knew there was no escape.

Siffrin can't take it. He can't take it, because it means Loop knew this whole time that Siffrin was stuck here forever, that they knew there was no way out of this, and that they were just stinging Siffrin along this entire time.

Siffrin's guide, his helper, the only person/being who knew about the loops, the only reason Siffrin wasn't completely alone this entire time... lied to him. Strung them along. Gave them false hope that they could see a new tomorrow. And it fucking breaks him.

Already grasping for whatever shreds of hope they can, now forced to face the reality that he'll be stuck here forever. Loop lied to him. They can't trust them. So he leaves, and never contacts them again.

Then they return to the Clocktower, only to hear his family talking about him. To hear Odile say that they can't trust him, and none of the others disagree with her.

Siffrin. Is. Alone.

(Which, funnily enough, is the exact opposite of what they wished for.)

The only person who knew about the loops, Siffrin's guide, is a liar and untrustworthy. Siffrin's family doesn't trust them anymore, and are planning to leave him behind.

Siffrin is tired. They're also out of options. So, what else are they supposed to do, aside from the only thing they can at this point? The only thing they've ever known...

They enter the House.

He has to take down the King himself.

His last shred of hope. The last flicker of light before they're plunged into an abyss of despair. Their final attempt at ending this loop, no matter the cost.

Alone.

What else is he supposed to do, who else are they supposed to lash out at, aside from the world itself?

There is nothing left for them here. No one to go back to. Their family hates him, and Loop is untrustworthy. They can't even remember his own blinding country, can't read or speak the language, and can't remember anything about it. Everything he could be holding onto is gone now.

So, he takes his anger and despair out on the world itself. On the House, his eternal prison. On the sky, with stars they don't recognize. On a world, that will forget him and abandon him just like everything else has.

Because, either he breaks out of the loop this time, or there won't be a world to come back to to loop again. Because they can't do it again. Not anymore. They've had enough. What's the point of going on any further? Whats the point of trying to open a door that doesn't even exist?

Its either this, or nothing.

Loop had no one from the very beginning. They were alone for it all. When they gave up, they took it out on themselves. Who else was to blame for their suffering, after all?

Siffrin, however, had Loop. They weren't alone for any of it. As hopeless as they felt, Loop was there to help him. That is, until now, and Siffrin can't handle it. Can't handle the only person whose been supporting him through this knowing that he was trapped here forever from the start.

Of course he'd take out his anger on a Universe that betrayed him. What else would they do?

[bonebled]

@singofus asked : The one benefit of communication through text-to-speech was that it could all be carefully written in advance. At least his starting words. So, here they sat in his car with a coffee at the time he'd arranged. Sitting here in the quiet as his...son awaited the artificial voice to start speaking his words. Words he'd been thinking about since driving by the cemetery, doing his research. Seeing Fýlix having a picnic at his mother's grave. On this side of the family, he was all Fýlix had. Disappearing father's seemed a pattern, one he'd made. Fýlix could decide if he wanted it to continue. For himself this time. "This was all written in a chunk. If you need anything repeated or the phone shits itself, I'll repeat." Technology was tempremental but he was unfortunately forced into using it. For a moment his thumb still hovers over the button but he takes a breath and presses play on the app. It shits itself for a second but then the male voice does start processing the paragraph. "I just thought it was time you got an explanation. Why I never stepped forward, what my life's been like. Why I wasn't a father to you. Then the ball is in your court, you can do what you want with it. I'll respect whatever choice you make. Work on my part." "So, a summary of my life." It really was a whistlestop tour. "I don't really remember my father. He died when I was small. Then my mother had my half-siblings by herself when I was ten. She then focussed on building her career, securing our futures. It worked out for us now. Back then, it meant I was a teen dad." By now he'd just stopped beating around the bush when thinking about it. "They even called me it when they were young. I didn't stop them. Still don't." He leant back in his seat and closed his eyes, letting himself be a little cowardly and not watch the man's reaction to any of this. "Then they turned into adults and I went on this big rebellious tour of the country. Took my bike and ran off. Met your mother on it. We were only together a few months and I left again, but she knew I wasn't gonna be around long. I didn't hear from her again...but I heard some rumours she was pregnant. I wasn't an idiot, I knew there was a big chance it was my kid. But I'd just stopped being a parent, mother had gotten her break too. I'd told myself I'd never have my own kids. I'd done enough of that for a lifetime. So I buried my head in the sand and it seemed to work. Until I got sent through a wad of documents and a letter threatening to expose me, expose you to my family. My relationships. Realised then that I couldn't bury my head anymore, wasn't gonna let anyone hold this over me. So, I told them. Then you found me." That was the end of the first chunk. Charon took a moment, making a grunt as if to say 'hold on' and played the next. He'd just wanted a distinction between the two parts. "The other part of this, is my job. You're bright, I figure you know who I work for. What they're involved in. When you came looking for me, so soon after my shit went down, I thought you'd be dragged in further. Then I found out who your girlfriend is, her family. Then I knew you'd be fine. They know their security." Another pause. "Maybe if I'd known your mother had passed, I'd've done something different. I don't know. But that's what I wanted to tell you. It's no sob story, it's no excuse. I am an absent father. But now you know why. At least that question's been answered." Charon hoped that would give him closure, should he wish to step away again. But he'd wanted to at least clue him in, so he doesn't spend any more time wondering.

athens  ,  202x  .

fýlix  remains  leaning  his  head  against  the  closed  glass  of  the  window  .  he  doesn't  know  what  to  do  with  his  body  ,  so  he  settles  for  trying  to  take  up  as  little  room  as  possible  .  he  kept  his  sunglasses  on  ,  not  due  to  sensitivity  ,  but  for  his  own  comfort  -  and  ,  he  imagines  ,  his  father's  .  to  not  have  to  see  his  unseeing  eyes  . 

eyes  his  mother  told  him  were  the  same  hue  as  his  father's  . 

he'll  never  know  . 

the  text  to  voice  is  …  smoother  than  he  had  anticipated  it  would  be  .  given  that  this  is  one  of  the  ways  he  can  express  himself  ,  it  makes  sense  he  would  have  put  time  and  energy  into  keeping  it  as  he  would  like  to  be  experienced  . 

and  he  listens  . 

he  listens  to  everything  ,  all  the  context  his  mother  had  never  given  him  .  she'd  not  been  able  to  ,  from  what  it  sounds  like  .  she  didn't  even  know  the  man  she'd  laid  with  . 

fýlix  can't  blame  her  ,  though  .  that's  his  mother  .  he's  done  being  mad  at  her  ,  wondering  why  she  hadn't  fought  harder  ( or at all , really ) to  make  his  father  stay  . 

he's  made  his  peace  with  it  . 

“  thank  you  ,  ”  he  murmurs  ,  and  he  means  it  .  charon  certainly  didn't  have  to  go  out  of  his  way  to  explain  all  of  this  ,  in  a  way  fýlix  could  understand  . 

he  swallows  ,  thinking  ,  sitting  up  from  the  window  .  it's  hard  ,  not  knowing  where  his  arms  go  ,  so  he  clasps  his  hands  between  his  knees  as  he  speaks  . 

“  i  don't  …  know  how  much  of  my  story  you  know  or  even  care  to  know  ,  but  i'll  start  at  the  present  .  i'm  not  in  the  market  for  the  type  of  parental  guidance  i  would  have  needed  growing  up  .  i have my path , and i think i'm doing pretty well , all things considered . i'd  rather  just  …  get  to  the  adulthood  part  .  weddings  ,  children  ,  vague  holiday  whatever's  ,  that  stuff  , you know ?  ” 

he  waits  a  beat  ,  and  then  turns  towards  where  he  can  hear  him  breathing  . 

“  if  you  don't  want  that  ,  tell  me  now  .  no  harm  no  foul  .  but  i'd  like  to  see  ,  ”  he  chuckles  at  himself  for  a  moment  ,  in  reflex  ,  “  where  that  could  go  .  if  you  wanted  .  " 

[canon-fcdder]

“…You’re still listening?”

It catches Sniper off guard, the way Pyro is looking at him, still seemingly tuned in. He’s been rambling on about Australian wildlife for long enough that something in the back of his brain decided nobody was listening anymore, he was just talking for the sake of talking. Which isn’t really something he does, unless it’s about one of a very select few topics. The incredible creatures of his home country happen to be at the top of that list.

Being quiet is easier, usually. It’s good practice in his line of work, and it allows him to listen more. He picks up on quite a bit just by paying attention and letting others talk. But today he let himself get excited about kangaroos and tarantulas and quokkas, and it seems Pyro is actually interested.

“You can have a turn. If you want. I’ll listen to you. Or we can draw, or whatever you feel like. I could… show you some newspaper clippings with photos of the bush fires in them.” His tone is stilted with the awkwardness of realising he’s probably wasted their time. They’re being so polite, and he just… well. That’s another reason he likes being quiet.

Still, even as he stiffens, he can’t help but feel a little warm. It’s nice, that Pyro didn’t tune him out entirely. It’s nice being around someone who can at least feign interest.

(From your bestest buddy Calvin)

-  ✩   「 @honeydewmuses 」   ✩  

「 ☆ 」   Pyro LOVES when people talk to them.

They’ve gotten used to the quiet. There was no choice but to... But that’s alright because in the suffocating silence they learned how to do something arguably better than talking with others. Talking isn’t that hard anyway; it’s just saying things. What makes it difficult is whether people listen or not. Which is why Pyro is so grateful for the frightening isolation of their youth. What else are they supposed to be about it? Angry? Devastated? Terrified of the chance that it’ll happen all over again and they’ll find themselves tossed aside without a single soul to keep them company? No, no— gratitude is the only emotion that makes sense. 

Because it made them a really good listener... For the most part.

Sometimes it’s not only difficult, but impossible to understand what is being told to them. As if the other person isn’t conversing with words, but speaking a strange static. Incapable of clicking in Pyro’s brain, no matter how hard either of them try. An unfortunate fact of the world, but unchangeable as the air they breathe or the fires that burn. At least they aren’t alone in this, their teammates sometimes having issues understanding what THEY say. Except for Sniper. He always seems to know. He didn’t use to, but now he does. So... it wasn’t an unchangeable fact for him. Pyro feels pretty confident that it is for them, though.

But that’s okay... Just like everything else.

❝  Of course I’m still listening!  ❞  Chimes a chipper reply, Pyro only barely registering the others surprise. Too engrossed by tales of fantastical creatures they wish were running around in front of them RIGHT NOW, a shock of disappointment shoots through their gut at the suggestion that Sniper stop. Not that it isn’t great to talk to Sniper... but later. After Sniper has said everything he wants to say.  ❝  No, no— Don’t stop!  ❞  Shaking their head and waving their hands to emphasize their point, Pyro then begins to rummage around, scattering papers aside in their quest for a blank sheet. An oddity with so many artists in the same space, but not an impossibility.  ❝  I like hearing you talk... and y’know what else I like?  ❞  

Triumphantly holding up pieces of paper in one hand and a marker in the other, Pyro beams behind their mask,  ❝  Drawing the things you talk about!  ❞  Slapping down the paper onto the floor, Pyro lies on their stomach, legs happily kicking in the air. Focused on Sniper as if he’s the most important interesting person in the world, they lightly tap the paper with the still-capped tip of their marker in an unnamed rhythm,  ❝  Now instead of picturing it all in my head, I can picture it in actual pictures. You can even have them if you want.  ❞  

Sniper is probably missing his kangaroos and tarantulas and quokkas... and all the other animal friends that he isn’t near anymore. People don’t usually talk so excitedly about people and things that aren’t around unless they wish they WERE. Drawings won’t make those feelings go away entirely, but they can still help. After all, a drawn quokka is better than NO quokka. Especially if it’s drawn by someone who cares.   「 ☆ 」 

[ladyanput]

Ok so this is the third time that I'm sending you an ask tonight. (or is it night time in your country?) I'm being annoying right now but whatever. So I've been cackling about those salt fics you wrote because they are just amazing. I have a request, though it is up to you to write it or not. So, can you write a salt fic where someone got an interview with Ladybug (probably Aurore) and then they ask her why they replaced the old heroes like Rena Rouge, Carapace and etc. and LB is just like I don't work with dumb shits or somethin'. Then there is also a new Black Cat (Probably Luka, Felix, or Damian) because Adrien here is an asshole and this fic is saltier than salt water. Then LB also insults Alya's blog and their school. Those foolish mortals get some lawsuits and the rest is up to you. (This request is probably messed up since it's already midnight here and I can't sleep.)

You're never annoying, I just apologize that it took me so long to get to you. I do hope you don't hold it against me, darling.

A one on one interview with Ladybug was basically unheard of if you weren't the Ladyblog or Nadja Chadwick. Ladybug had made it firm that she wasn't a celebrity, she was a hero. She wasn't there for clout, for attention, for fame or fortune. She just wanted to keep Paris safe.

That's was Aurore admired about her. And why she felt queasy as she sat across from the heroine, who had given her of all people an interview. But she got ahold of herself, taking deep breaths as the cameraman began counting down. And when he hit 'one', she put on her best smile and straightened in her seat.

"Hello Paris! Welcome back to 'Latest Buzz'! I am your lovable host, Aurore Beauréal. Today I am here with a very, very special guest, our very own heroine of Paris; Ladybug!"

Ladybug beamed right at the camera, but gave a shy little wave, giving away the nerves she obviously had.

"Now, Ladybug, I'm so glad you requested to be on the show. You know, I initially thought I had misheard when Estelle told me. Usually you're not big on personal interviews." Aurore gave her full attention to Ladybug, but keeping the bright, friendly smile and perfect posture.

"Well, I tried a few times actually. But when I did, none of them were really great experiences." Ladybug admitted and both girls immediately thought of that disastrous Face-to-Face interview. It left a bitter taste in their mouths. "My issue is that misinformation has been spread around a lot recently. It's made me realize that I need to find more trustworthy sources."

"Ladybug. I vow on my integrity as a host and Estelle's reputation as a journalist that we are people who research facts. We don't ambush our guests, we respect them." She said, placing a hand on her heart. Ladybug saw an honesty in her eyes that she hadn't seen in such a long time. It honestly made her feel.. Respected. "Now, Ladybug.. We both know you have a lot of fans. A lot of admirers. False information can be spread so easily these days, which sources specifically are you telling people to avoid?"

"Well.. With Face-to-Face, I found that I was entirely ambushed in that interview. I wanted to speak about my hero work, but instead Nadja kept trying to needle her way into my personal life. That picture she had shown in largely out of context; when Dark Cupid attacked and Chat Noir was under his spell, it was the only way to get him free."

"Yes, I remember watching that. I'll be honest Ladybug, I felt bad for you." Aurore bit her lip, but smiled a bit when Ladybug nodded. "I mean, Chat Noir wasn't helping either. He seemed to be trying to push this narrative forward that you two are a couple."

"And we're not!" Ladybug burst out before she could stop herself. Everyone in that studio could hear the utter stress and frustration in her voice. "I've begged and begged Chat Noir to stop with the flirting, the 'telling people we're dating', everything! I just wanted him to focus and he couldn't seem to do that!"

"Is that why you replaced him? Because of his slacking off and refusing to take anything seriously?" Aurora sat up an bit straighter, her eyes going wide.

".. Not exactly, no. It was a bunch of issues that eventually piled up and boiled over." Ladybug made some gestures with her hands, trying her hardest to find the words but just letting out a long and pained sigh in the end. "I do enjoy my new partner now. He is more serious, more stable. I know he won't go off and pout if I deny something he wanted. I needed an entirely new team, as a matter of fact."

"Well I am going to say, on behalf of everyone here, that we're glad. We swear on our integrity as journalists that if such rumours were to ever surface again, we will do our proper research." Aurore beamed and many of the staff and crew behind the cameras nodded and gave Ladybug their thumbs up. Honestly, it warmed Ladybug's heart to see such support.

When had been the last time someone had supported her like this? Sure, her parents supported her, but her friends..? Her peers? No, none of them had supported her in a long time.

"Speaking of research, I'd say to stay away from the Ladyblog." It burned to say it but it had to be said. Alya had crossed so many lines it wasn't even forgivable at this point. She had gone too far, had betrayed too many.

"Wait, what?" Aurore nearly jumped out of her seat but quickly composed herself, taking a deep breath. "Pardon me Ladybug, but the Ladyblog has been a vital source of information since the very beginning."

"And I'm not denying that!" Ladybug quickly held up her hands, her eyes desperate now. "But please let me explain. The Ladyblog was amazing in the beginning, but like all things, it started to go astray. It was things like trying so hard to find out my identity. Trying to push that narrative of that whole superhero couple thing.. Ladyblogger Alya Césaire has proven time and time again that she is not trustworthy. I mean, I thought she was my biggest fan. Why does she keep pushing my words aside?"

Many people who watched the interview would agree. If you idolized someone, respected someone, truly looked up to them.. Why would you push aside their words, their wishes to try and push the narrative you're so convinced is true, but isn't there?

"And don't get me started on the whole Lila Rossi craze she seemed to be on now." At Ladybug's mention of Lila Rossi, both Estelle and Aurore had to keep from rolling their eyes. They knew all about the girl.

"You speak as if you are quite frustrated, Ladybug. What an odd reaction to your best friend." Aurore leaned forward a bit in her seat. Everyone else got to the edge of theirs. Ladybug only shook her head, looking utterly defeated.

"That's the thing, she isn't my best friend." It took everything to keep from satin that she hated her, that she had taken away her friends and her life. "The only times she's met Ladybug is when she's been akumatized, which has been around six or seven times at this point. And the other things she's claiming are so outlandish! Saving Jagged Stone's kitten from a airport runway? Clara Nightengale stealing her dance moves? And the Ladyblog just posts it out there, claiming every single story is true. I'm just scared that people are taking this one hundred percent seriously. That's why I had to drop Rena Rouge and Carapace from the team as they believed Lila Rossi over me. They didn't even try to confirm these rumours! And it hurts to think that one day, someone will take Lila's words seriously and get hurt. What if she says it's safe to dip strawberries in bleach? Or tells someone that she found a way to tame some kind of wild animal? Someone would get hurt because they believe her story and try it out for themselves!"

"My goodness, I can definitely see how that is a problem. Misinformation is very easy to spread thanks to the internet, so you being worried is a very relatable thing." Aurore nodded, then tilted her head ever so slightly. "Ladybug, do you know anyone who has taken her word seriously? This is besides the Ladyblog of course."

Ladybug closed her eyes briefly, mentally debating with herself before finally giving in. These things needed to be said.

"Collège François DuPont. Now I wasn't there personally, but I heard about this situation and looked into it. The entire situation was appalling. Apparently a student was found to have cheated, assaulted another student, and commited thievery. But the thing that stuck out is only one person saw her do all of these things; Lila Rossi. No investigation was done, no questioning other students. This student was then expelled immediately. Her teacher and her principal didn't even give her a chance. And from what people have been saying, Miss Rossi's behaviour is actively encouraged in that school. She misses countless days, no, months of school, claiming she's traveling. But when she was supposedly in Achu, doing whatever it was she was claiming with Prince Ali, I was fighting her akuma here in Paris on Heroes Day!"

"I was at school the day that happened. I knew the student that happened to. They're the nicest person in that school! Never a bad thing to say about anyone, always willing to help! I agree with you on how things were handled, it's a level of incompetence that is baffling." Aurore's hands slowly curled into fists as she remembered it all. She slowly shook her head. "The principal, their teacher, their class who backed up Rossi. It must have hurt them so much, made them feel so alone."

"That's why I want people to be more careful with what information they take as fact. It's so important, because stuff like that can lead people to a desperate place. They feel alone, like the entire world is against them. I wouldn't have let the principal and the teacher get away with that gross negligence in their jobs." Ladybug leveled her gaze directly to the camera. "People of Paris, please listen to what I am saying. I am here to be a hero, to protect you from the terror of Hawkmoth and to defeat him. But please, do not be like Principal Damocles, do not be like that teacher and her class at DuPont. Do your research, look up your facts. Do not let a liar lead you to do something dangerous and hurt yourself as well as others. Respect each other, talk and be honest. I swear on my life that I shall do the same. You are the people I swore to protect and I love. I am saying this all to protect you. And I'll hope you'll all forgive me for not protecting you sooner."

...

The interview rocked Paris. Ladybug speaking so openly about her frustrations, about the discrepancies in the Ladyblog and Lila Rossi had many people double checking the sources of everything they learned from that blog.

Alya could barely show her face as she made her way though the school hallways. Her reputation as a journalist had gone down the drain. People had basically started boycotting her blog, harrassing her, or trash talking her on other forums and sites. Even a lot of news outlets picked this up.

What hurt the most from that interview last night was Ladybug's words towards her, both as Rena Rouge and as Alya. Surely the heroine had to be mistaken, she had never beytrayed Ladybug! And that Oblivio incident, it was just to show Chat Noir and Ladybug that they were meant to be together!

Her family was upset with her. No, upset was too tame of a word. They were pissed.

"I can't believe she lied to us.."

"Well what do you expect from someone who keeps harrassing Ladybug?"

Alya flinched when she heard the whispers and rushed into Miss Buster's class. The entire class was there, all seated, all looking utterly miserable. Many of them looked as if they had been crying all night. A lot like she had.

"W-where's Miss Bustier?" Alya asked when she eyed the empty desk. Many of her classmates shot her glares, but didn't say anything about the interview last night. After all, they had no room to talk.

"She and Principal Damocles are with the school board now. We're getting a new teacher." Adrien was the one that spoke up. He looked utterly miserable. So unlike his usual self.

"Lila isn't coming back. She was pulled from school when her mother found out what happened." Alix muttered from her seat, arms crossed and shoulders hunched.

The class went quiet as they all internally contemplated how things had gotten like this. Their eyes focused on the door when it abruptly opened and Marinette came strolling in, carrying a box.

"Good morning everyone!" She said brightly, pretending not to notice the downcast expressions on their faces. She set the box on the teacher's desk before she turned towards them. "Oh? What's wrong everyone?"

".. Did you not watch the interview with Ladybug on 'Latest Buzz'?" Alya stared at Marinette, a bit dumbfounded by her friend's lack of awareness of the situation. She had been expecting Marinette to rush in with support and a fiery vengeance against those who had humiliated her best friend, maybe even a fresh pastry. But instead she was greeted with empty hands and a cheerful hello?

"Oh, well I haven't really had the time to watch much television. I mean, with my transfer papers, needing to plan out my new schedule with all of those new classes. Busy as a bee, that's me!" Marinette just beamed, giving Adrien a playful wink that had his stomach churning.

"Wait, transfering?" It was Rose that spoke up, her large eyes seeming impossibly large now. "Transfer what?"

"To my new school, of course." Marinette giggled and clasped her hands together. "I start on Monday."

"New school?!" Alya was on her feet and rushing towards Marinette. The others quickly followed, crowding around her. "What do you mean new school?! When did you ever say you were going to a new school?"

Marinette blinked, as if stunned, then tilted her head ever so slightly.

"I told you all last week, don't you remember?" Marinette tapped her lower lip, seeming to be wracking her brain before she abruptly snapped her fingers. "Oh! I forgot, you all were deep in conversation with Lila about her upcoming event with Jagged Stone and Clara Nightengale. You know, the one she said she'd be attending with Ladybug, since they're such good friends. Did she ever say how it went?"

All of the students shifted uneasily, suddenly seeming to refuse to meet her face.

Alix murmured something so barely audible, Marinette held a hand to her ear and leaned closer.

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

"Lila was lying to us!" Alix snapped as her cheeks went a flaming red.

"About everything! She never knew Jagged Stone!" Juleka spat out in fury.

"Or Prince Ali!" Rose sniffled.

"And she wasn't friends with Ladybug? They were barely acquaintances!" Alya wailed out as tears welled up in her eyes.

But Marinette hardly reacted the way they were expecting. She just gave them a small smile and nodded.

"Oh, yeah. I know."

Alya sucked in a breath sharply.

"You knew..? But why did you never..?"

"Oh Alya, you silly forgetful thing. I told you the day she returned from her long 'trip', remember? I told you she was lying." Marinette gave Alya a smile that said 'oh you silly thing'. "But you told me that I should really check my sources. And I got tired of trying to bring up any lies, since that was always your response. So I decided to just stop. I mean, since you're such an inspiring, honest journalist you must double and triple check every source you come across and found every story to be true!"

Alya flinched and looked away, feeling the churning feeling in her gut again. No, the Ladyblog had been the only source for the stories. The. Only. One.

"And I'm sure all of you knew what you were doing! I mean, it makes sense; trusting the words of a complete stranger over someone you've known for a while now. Some of you since we were in diapers!" She focused her gaze on Nino and Kim, who had the grace to at least look ashamed.

"Marinette, you really should-" Adrien began, reaching out for the girl, but was cut off by her clapping her hands together.

"But it's alright! I decided that fighting with you all wasn't worth it, so I took Adrien's advice and took the high road! Don't bother exposing Lila, she isn't hurting anyone!" Marinette announced brightly, giving her hands a little wave.

The temperature in the classroom dropped by several degrees.

".. Adrien, she's kidding, right?" Nino glanced over at his friend, his eyes pleading for him to deny it all. But the sight of the blood draining from the model's face and the sweat starting to bead at his forehead told him everything he needed to know. "Dude.."

"How could you?! You knew this entire time and didn't even try to tell me?!" Alya rounded on Adrien, fury in her eyes.

"Now, now, don't get mad at Adrien. I'm sure he knew you all were going to do you research. Besides, it's not like this did anything bad for anyone." Marinette pressed a hand to her cheek, still grinning. "I mean, it's not like you all took her advice without doing any research. You didn't try the things she suggested without actually checking them out to be true, right? No one lost any scholarships or job opportunities. No one's relationships were ruined. No one was hurt."

The nauseous feeling spread to all of the class as the reality of everything caught up with them.

"I'm sure everything will go back to normal, right? I mean, I'm sure that that woman from the education bureau isn't here to fire Damocles and Bustier for their severe neglect in their duties. Expelling me with the most mediocre and shaky proof. Surely that's a school I should feel safe in! That I should be proud to be a part of. But alas, my preparations for my new school are already done, so oh well."

Marinette shrugged and adjusted her purse strap.

"Anyhow, I wish you all luck with the amazing things Lila has helped you to do! I know it must have been worth ignoring me and convincing me I was crazy. With all of the free time I've had, with you guys practically replacing me with Lila in the group, I've had tons of time to spend with my boyfriend."

"Boyfriend?!" Alya's eyes went owlishly wide as she gaped at Marinette. "But what about Adrien?!"

"Oh Alya, I fell out of love with Adrien forever ago." Marinette shook her head in an almost patronizing way that had Alya's cheeks burning with embarrassment. They didn't even pay attention to Adrien's noises of surprise. "I mean, you claimed I was jealous of Lila getting close to Adrien, that I should let the jealousy go. And you know what? You were right! So I decided Adrien wasn't worth the stress, the embarrassment.. I mean, I couldn't even talk to him straight. I thought he was the most perfect guy in the world! Goodness, did I learn my lesson!"

She giggled as if she found the entire thing amusing. She then beamed at the class.

"Well, ta-ta! I need to get back home and make sure everything is ready to go. I wish you all the best, I really do!"

They all watched, shellshocked as Marinette breezed out of the classroom like it was nothing. Like she wasn't leaving her friends, her school, her life behind. And they all would wonder exactly how badly they screwed up, if she could walk away do easily, without a care.

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[twiceasfrustrating]

I'm sorry if I already requested this of you I honestly have the memory of a walnut. But can I request headcannons of the boys + dia who find out MC has an emotionally abusive husband? Like fluff with some murder maybe?

thank you

Rating: Mature

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: Gen

Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!

Characters: Lucifer (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Leviathan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Satan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Asmodeus (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Beelzebub (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Belphegor (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Diavolo (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)

Additional Tags: abusive relationship mentioned, some are a bit murdery, I don't know how to write fluff for such a situation but I tried

A/N: If you are in an abusive situation in the USA and need to speak to someone, please call 1-800-799-7233. If you cannot call, you can also text “START” to 88788. If it is safe for you, you can also go to the website directly. Abuse takes many forms, but it is always about control.

Feel free to add the numbers/contact for other countries if you have them.

Lucifer

He got upset at MC once and they flinched when he yelled and they started apologizing like there was no tomorrow. That was how he found out something was wrong. They wouldn’t say anything, but he could tell that something was deeply wrong. Perhaps he had never noticed before the formation of their pact how MC shuddered around him whenever he got upset, but now he did.

He is very careful not to yell again and when he does he is quick to lower his voice the second MC shows distress, reassuring them that he is not angry at them and would not harm them. It sounds almost hollow after how he acted when they originally met, but he means it.

There was one time MC dropped a dish on the floor while cooking and it broke, spilling hot food everywhere. They started picking up the pieces in a hurry, not even paying attention to how the hot shards burned and cut up their hands.

Lucifer was quick to pick them up off the ground and tend to the fresh injuries, all while they kept apologizing and saying that they would clean it up as soon as they could and saying they would make something else. Lucifer forbade them from doing either and cleaned the mess himself. He did that a lot. Took care of their ‘mistakes’ and cared for them. They would almost believe he wasn't the same terrifying man they had first met.

It takes a long time for MC to get used to their new relationship with Lucifer and once they do they are far more comfortable and less skittish.

He is not pressuring the story out of them. He can wait, as difficult as it is, for them to open up. However, he is no fool. He knows who is to blame, and that man should be very afraid should Lucifer and he ever meet.

Mammon

MC always spoke so well of their husband when they first met the brothers. Mammon was actually jealous and wished MC would talk about him that way. They would always say how kind their husband was and how he loved them and how he wanted the best for them. It sounded like some kind of cheesy romance novel.

Things started to get weird though when he and MC started to get even closer. He would invite them out, only to hear “I don’t think my husband would like that” or “I shouldn’t be alone with you”. It was weird the first time, but it quickly became a pattern. A very worrying pattern. Mammon knew abuse when he saw it. He was the family butt monkey and a witch punching bag, after all.

The difference is that he’s a fallen angel that is used to such treatment and, as a demon, the things done to him do very little in the long run. Humans are far more fragile though; their minds, bodies, and hearts. And then Mammon started to hate MC’s husband with a passion that could not be matched.

He cared less about making that bastard pay and more about taking care of MC. Such treatment can ruin a person, especially good people like MC. He would do anything to show them that they deserved better than that man, whatever that eventually meant.

Leviathan

He and MC have a little too much in common for his taste. It is actually almost disgusting how little self-worth they seem to have, but he can also see how that was trained into them.

They play down their worth a lot: “It’s nothing”, “It could be better”, “I failed again”, etc. They never say anything positive about themself. They are really good at picking out their flaws, but almost incapable of pointing out their merits.

It goes against everything Levi believes in, but he has to start praising them since they won’t praise themself. He likes hanging out with them, the stuff they make is nice, they are a really quick learner. It feels weird to praise someone, but it’s nice to see MC start to feel a little better about all the things they do.

Although, he also has the mild thought of showing MC’s husband that there are more terrifying things in the world than the horrors a human is capable of. After all, Levi has seen the monsters that dwell in the deep; he is one of those monsters and there is a reason humans fear the darkest depths.

Satan

There are some wonderful upsides to being the avatar of wrath. Normally, Satan wouldn't be so crass as to give into them, but sometimes humanity is just so vile that he can't help himself.

One of those upsides is a mind filled to the brim with the instinctual desire to rip and tear anything he can get his hands on to pieces. It's an instinct he fights off constantly with his centuries of training and self-discovery, but just this once he doesn't mind becoming the beast he was born as.

MC's husband squeals like a stuck pig throughout the entire night, only the winds, spiders, and Satan being able to hear and appreciate the sound. And appreciate it he does, until the screaming stops and his hands are drenched with blood.

He really needs to get himself cleaned off before he sees MC again, otherwise they will be terrified. He needs to look his best when they come running to him worried about their missing husband. It’s sad how much they worry about him despite everything.

Asmodeus

MC was always so calm and docile when he wanted to spend time with them. He didn’t really get it at first but it was easier to dress them up and take them out, so he didn’t question it. At least, not until someone (read: Solomon) not so subtly pointed out that it is unusual for someone to be so passive, almost to the point of being doll-like.

Asmo didn’t believe it at first. How could anyone treat someone as sweet as MC so cruelly, especially someone that is supposed to love them? But from that day onward, his eyes were opened up and he started to notice things.

The way they didn’t put forth their own opinions and let him take the lead on everything, how they stuck close to him when they both went out, the subtle way their fingers reached out then drew back when they liked something.

“Do you like it?” He would ask and their response was “do you?”

It was so difficult to get them to start putting their own wants and desires above what they thought he’d like. When they showed interest in something, he would fawn all over it. If they liked something, he liked it too. He would buy them things they even glanced casually at, told them they were worthwhile and lovely, anything that other man would never say to them.

He tore them down so completely, but Asmo would work tirelessly to build them back up.

Beelzebub

He is the softest man in the world, and sometimes MC just lets things slip out. He’s very easy to open up to and they don’t think about what they say. He was the first person that they opened up to about what was happening to them.

Suffice it to say, Beel was shocked when they mentioned how terrified they were for the exchange program to end. Despite everything that they had been through over the past year, they didn’t want to go back.

Beel had only felt so powerless one other time in his life. He couldn’t go with them to protect them and they couldn’t stay in the Devildom forever to stay safe. It was painfully cruel just how much he couldn’t help them.

All he could do was hold them and listen to them get everything off of their chest, dreading the day that the exchange program would end.

MC has to hurry up and learn how to summon him, because he wants to keep them safe from that awful situation. He would never allow another person it the world to hurt them again.

Belphegor

Belphie likes exactly one human in the three realms and every other one is none of his concern. Or, they wouldn’t be his concern if it weren’t for the fact that the one human he cared about was the victim of this particular instance.

He’s not like some of his other brothers. He doesn’t do comfort and he isn’t the best at torture, prefering to get everything over with quickly so he doesn’t have to expend all the extra energy. But, for such a special occasion, he is more than willing to put in the effort.

Humans really do create their own worst fears. Their minds run a mile a minute and they have the strangest way of finding how their own terrors can overpower what little defenses they have.

He may not be able to touch MC’s husband, but he can certainly return every slight against his favorite human. Long, sleepless nights wracked with unending horrors that only that man can truly appreciate.

All the while, he will gladly hold MC when their own nightmares overtake them, trying to put their mind at ease for just this moment. How he wished that his powers could control the waking world as well as their dreams...

Diavolo

“Don’t go back.” It was the first time Diavolo had brought up the idea. It was one he had been considering for a long time, knowing that it was extreme given that MC was a human and had to live in the human realm. However, he couldn’t live with himself knowing the kind of life MC would return to once they left.

The shouting, the insults, discarding everything MC liked because their husband doesn’t care for it… Diavolo would never feel right knowing he sent someone dear to him back there.

He had the means to help them get literally anywhere but back to that man. Diavolo could help set them free from that life, even if they didn’t want to stay in the Devildom. He knew MC would have the support of everyone they had met.

All they had to do was say yes and he would move the Devildom itself to get them out of there.

[calllamander]

Okay I'm ready I've made up my mind , here's a little backstory no one wants to hear: my sister just got engaged and I cried for about half an hour because I was so freakin happy for her sooo I'm in such a lovely mood , maybe you can pick that up and write a little engagement thingy ? :) idc if it's drabble hcs or else , whatever works best for you sweetie 😊 also you can pick the character ...... but we both know who works always for us lmao

Thank you so muuuch and take all the time you need ! 💖

ahhhh! this is so sweet! nonnie congrats to your sister!! when I got this ask I literally started smiling so wide in my online class that everyone was really confused 😂 I hope this is alright...and plausible haha I’ve never been proposed to (hurry up Tooru smh) - sorry for the wait, this is my piece de résistance and I wanted it to be as good as it could be ❣️

Hq boys proposing

KUROO smiled at you from the passenger seat, your hand in his as usual as you drove, Tokyo fading into the patchwork fields of country. “tetsu...” you ask, laughing as the wind tangled you’re hair, “where are we going?” it seemed almost as if he had been waiting for you to ask because he suddenly looked nervous, very nervous, the kind of nervous where he accidentally blurts out chemistry pick up lines on the first date (it’s a miracle he got a second one). he looked over, emboldened by your easy enthusiasm. “do you remember when we were still in high school, and you used to call me and just say ‘get me out of here?’ ” his voice is low and serious, and impossibly gentle with emotion. you nod, and your smile gets sadder at the memory, the memory of you. “well,” he stops the car and opens up his door, hurrying round to do the same for yours, composing his thoughts as you start the walk, down the path off the road, along the river, and he feels a flush of pride as recognition illuminates your face. it’s a perfect evening, the sky is watercolour pink and orange, and the water reflects it perfectly. “we found this place by chance” he continued speaking faster from nerves, “and when we walked down this- this exact path, i knew that this was different from anything else. my whole life I have had a good life, and I had been with good people and yet I‘d just felt...” he paused, and looked you right int he eyes, before sighing out: “restless.” your mouth opens slightly and you whisper his name. “And you know when I’m with you I just feel still” he continues, starting to blink back tears. “and I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything y/n l/n, and” he got down on one knee: in front of the setting sun, and the river refracting the light. and he did look still. he looked radiant and relaxed and so so happy. and you covered your face with your hands but stopped yourself because you didn’t want to miss any of this. “and this is my moms ring” he said, “and i wish she could’ve met you but I know she would have“ his voice cracked and he looked away for a split second, swallowing hard, “would have loved you almost as much as I do.” he grinned in spite of himself and you smiled too, even through your tears. “so,” he laughed, “after all this, I guess ill just....” he laughed again, messing his hair up agitatedly, “will you marry me?”

“yes!” you laugh and run towards him, “a thousand times yes!”

OIKAWA looked himself over once more in the mirror, he’d tried hard to look like he’s trying but also casual which makes him feel kind of stupid but that paradox of appearances and feelings is just how he’s wired. casual. not I’ve-been-planning-this-for-forever-and-if-it-goes-badly-i-don’t-have-the-faintest-idea-what-I’d-do. that’s not what he wants. it needs to be a total surprise. the rings already in his breast pocket, right above his heart. the ring feels like happiness. “princess?” he spins and offers you his arm, “ready?” And when he’s sees you he blushes down neck like when its genuine, because you look beautiful in that dress, and he might be getting a little bit choked up, and ducking down to hide it. because...because it’s you, because he’s actually doing this. with you. actually. finally. “lets go then” you laugh and he laughs back with a determination usually reserved for the court. because this is everything. the drive is a short one and the night air is cold against your cheek, the streetlights make oikawa’s hair a coppery halo round his head and the wind fluffs it up in a way he gets frustrated about but you could stare at all day. “i love you ” you sigh, looking over at your boyfriend, and he blushes and stutters and tries to focus on the road. “I love you too darling” and he gives you the gentlest smile that he‘s ever shared with anyone “te amo, mi alma.” he parks and takes your hand. the observatory is empty: long closed, and your heels clack on the tiled floor. the stairs are steep, but the two of you are young and you‘re boundless because that’s what love does to people. in no time at all you step out, into the round room that forms the top floor, and gasp. there’s candles set in the corners and there’s flowers and there’s your boyfriend looking utterly ethereal, his white shirt a buttery yellow in the candle light. and you feel your heart just ache with how much you love him. he presses a button, and, as the roof starts to open up like a flower, he takes a deep breath. “when I was younger every time I felt lonely I used to think about space” sliver by sliver the roof was opening up, and you could see a glass dome, snatches of stars, pinpricks of light. torus voice was gentle, and fragile, and proud and horrifically insecure and somehow everything because it was him. “theres more out there“ He glanceable up at the sky unfolding, “than we can ever comprehend...I liked it. I liked that it was infinite. i liked that I belonged to something that was chaotic and orderly and empty and full” he swallowed hard. “and then there was you. and you were the best person I had ever met. and I thought that maybe I would have to be something else for you, because i’ve felt like that my whole life. but you - you just...made me feel like I belonged. and I didn’t need the night sky anymore because this,” the roof finally opened all the way and for one perfect moment it was just you, tooru and the universe: the heaviness of him, and the lightness too. “this is infinite.” he dropped down on one knee. “y/n l/n I love you with everything in the solar system and I will until every last star is blown out, and a thousand years more. and this isn’t horrifically corny so I’m going to just ask: will you marry me?” You let out a sob

“yes”

SAKUSA leant into your touch the way he never had for anyone else. like a warmth he never knew was missing, a tiny puzzle piece in his soul. your hand was running through his hair, occasionally creeping down to rub his back. he blushes, because irritatingly he can’t stop himself (but does he wean them to?). you‘re off guard now, relaxed, eyes closed, breathing in the night air from the roof of your apartment block. his face is in your neck and it’s all very peaceful (so peaceful it makes his heart hurt). he takes a deep breath (its now or never). “...hey y/n?” you hum, opening your eyes to show you’re listening. he struggles to think of what to say. “i love you” he settles on. you kiss his hair, “I love you too omi.” you say it like it’s obvious and he shakes his head, sitting up a little more so he can look at you. “no, I mean...I- I didn‘t know what love was. and I didn’t realise how badly I wanted it, until I met you. and I just” he exhales, momentarily turning his head up to stare into the sky. “I want to spend forever with you. that. that’s what I want. and I don’t have a ring, or a dramatic plan and maybe that’s what you would have wanted-” he’s looking down now, he knows, getting nervous, and he forces himself to get back on track. “but” He realises he should be kneeling and goes to do so in front of you. “I would be the happiest man alive if you would marry me.” and there, on a camp bed that he dragged onto the roof and covered with bedding just because you mentioned you liked the night, under the cloudy 11 o clock sky with the love of your life. you said yes.

@anonanonymousanon

[komoreangel]

𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐚

pairing: scaramouche x fem!reader

scenario: you met when you were both very young, and since the day he left you behind he still feels an undying fear for what sight would await him if he dared to return home.

or…

thantophobia - the fear of losing a loved one. but he had made it perfectly clear that you did not fall under that category when he left you and all of your promises behind.

request: okok my first idea was: scaramouche childhood friends to enemies to lovers. take with that what you will <3

a/n: hi anon ty so very much for the request we all know i love scara <33 but i did tweak it a bit basically its childhood friends to enemies to scara loves reader but reader isnt convinced (with a hint of 'ive always loved you' thrown in)

side note: this is a rewrite of an excerpt i wrote for a scara x oc, in which the oc was female (the same is said here but i will avoid using pronouns) and adopted into the kamisato clan as a princess (minor inazuma spoilers). the same situation is stated here. also i am 1000% willing to write more of this (includes my personal headcanons for scaramouche’s backstory, not canon!!)

growing up, you had always had poor health

your mother worried for you a lot when you were younger

she didn’t like to let you go outside much either

you spent most of your time in the palace walls while she worked, frequently being taken to see the royal physician

you would sit outside the door while your parents talked with the doctors about your “condition”

you weren’t even that sick

just weak for your age

that was when you first met him

he was training to be a soldier along his father

you were like a ghost in his eyes

sitting in the hall in the middle of the night

knees pushed to your chest, snoozing in the soft light of the moon

he was naturally a curious boy, so he kneeled in front of you and poked your shoulder

“hello?”

you startled awake

“wah-!” he fell back at your sudden movement

“who are you?” you asked

your voice was soft, and gentle, like a midnight breeze

“i’m [redacted].”

you remember what he told you, but some part of that memory had been erased from your mind…you wonder to this day what he could have said.

“my name is y/n.”

he thought it was a pretty name, although he wasn’t going to say anything

the two of you sat in the moonlight, talking quietly amongst yourselves

“why are you sitting outside the physician’s office?” he asked you

“my mama says i’m sick, and that going outside will make it worse.”

“oh. are you going to get better soon?”

you smile at him, a gesture that makes his chest tighten, although he can’t fathom why.

“yeah! she says that if we can afford to get some medicine from liyue, i’ll be all better! then i can start making friends!”

he slightly smiles

“can i be your friend, [redacted]?”

you had even said the name yourself once. why couldn’t you remember it?

his expression shifts to a slightly surprised look

“you…want to be my friend?”

he was quiet even then, and his silent expression would grow to an angry one over time

“yeah! you’re interesting, and you’re one of the few people who bothers to talk to me.”

he doesn’t speak for a while.

“you can say no if you want to.” you say to him.

“okay. i’ll be your friend.”

it’s a short response, but the bright grin that lights up your face makes it worth the wait

“yay! i can’t wait till i’m better so we can hang out more!”

you two talked in that hallway a lot

meeting after dark, talking about anything in the world

when you were about six, the worst of your illness hit you

the doctors didn’t even know what was wrong, and there were nights when he would sit outside the physician’s office alone at night, hoping, praying that the sun would shine on a world that still had you in it

you would collapse from exhaustion at the slightest overexertion

his father always told him he had to be careful with you, not only were you shorter than him, but you were also very fragile

those hours spent sitting in the hallway alone, he got to do a lot of thinking

he wanted to help you, but he didn’t know how

then, there was a sudden burst of hope

you were going to liyue with your parents

you would get the help you needed

he was happy for you, even if it meant you would have to spend time away from him

and then there was the terrible news

the ship had gone missing

you had too

he couldn’t sleep for days on end

his father was worried too

when he saw you again, you found yourself shuddering on the shores of inazuma

he wrapped his arms around you as tight as he could, as if his strength alone could undo everything that had happened

it was one of the few times he showed affection in public

he rushed you to the healer again

and this time there was no hoping

there was no praying

there was just the pit in his stomach, the fear that coursed through his veins and fueled his blood

every second felt like a decade, it was a moment in which you weren’t perfectly healthy and safe

the townspeople began to spread rumors, as people do

the guard’s son who was lovesick with worry for the sickly orphan girl

what a pity, no?

he wanted to shut them up. he wished he had the power to shut them up.

when even his father had to drag him away from the pharmacy, he didn’t talk to anyone for a very long time.

this was around the time he grew sour and snappy

his simply quiet demeanor developed into a scowl that constantly graced his face

he only smiled the day you were released from the physicians.

you weren’t fully healed. but you felt better than you ever had in your life.

his father took you in without a second thought, and he was just happy to have you with him.

“i’m better, scara.” you said to him, a happy smile on your face

“i was wondering when you’d hurry up and get well.”

you were a bit troubled by his attitude, but no less, you were happy to see your friend again.

it went like that for a long time.

he was rude, but you didn’t care because you knew what he was like underneath.

some nights he would sneak into your room and talk to you.

he told you he was just bored and felt like annoying you.

but his real reason was to make sure you were still breathing.

he always worried about you

so the day you received your vision, he felt a lot of relief

surely this meant that you could protect yourself. you were safe.

then the worst of all things happened.

his fathers death.

the day he felt like his world was ripped from underneath his feet.

almost immediately, the electro archon, baal, herself, intervened, and declared that you were to be adopted into the kamisato clan.

why you? why couldn’t he keep you with him? he was old enough to be able to take care of both of you

baal didn’t like his questioning. she said she knew what was best for you.

it was strange. because in the days he spent with you after, although not many, you didn’t seem sick at all.

for the first time, you seemed perfectly healthy.

he was glad for that…but he wasn’t happy. you could see that easily.

you knew this wasn’t the right thing for him

he stuck around for a year. you suppose you’re lucky he even stayed that long. you were pretty much his only reason.

sure he found friends in ayaka and kazuha…but he was unhappy.

he knew there was no point in staying, so he thought it was time he took his leave.

he approached you one day, as the sun began to set

you were worried for him, as he had been very angry towards baal and the emperor lately.

“scara, is there something you want to talk about?”

you watch as he stands before you

he blurts out, “run away with me.”

you’re taken aback almost immediately.

“what?”

he repeats his statement

“i’m going to flee from inazuma. come with me.”

“scara..”

his expression, as it does often these days, turns stern and serious.

“i’m not going to ask you again. come with me, y/n.”

you’re tired of him ordering you around.

“you know i can’t. i have duties here. i can’t just betray my country for you.”

“you know baal wants me gone. she’s going to kill me if i stay. she might do the same to you.”

you scoff at his words. “she won’t harm me or you. you’re being dramatic.”

he spits out his next words, laced with venom. “baal killed my father. i hate her and so should you.”

“scara.”

“it’s like you’ve completely forgotten about him just because you’re royalty now.”

“scara.”

“don’t call me scara. come with me if you ever cared at all.”

“scaramouche!”

he goes quiet

“don’t go. please.”

he frowns

“you know i can’t do that.”

you want to try and make him stay

but he won’t. you know nothing you say will convince him. he won’t let himself be convinced by you, even if that’s what he truly wants.

you inhale

“get out of here.”

“what?”

“go. leave. and take this with you.”

you throw the necklace you were wearing at him, and he catches it. baal had exiled him, it was true, but he couldn’t expect you to throw everything away for him.

“wait, what are you-“

as the two of you stare each other down, you hear ayaka’s voice coming from the courtyard, calling for you.

she has a guard with her, as the emperor assigns every royal family member. you managed to ditch yours early on.

“the guard is gonna get you if you stay, scara. get out of here, now.”

he scoffs

“whatever. i can’t believe i thought you were worth risking my life.”

he pockets the necklace and steps over the wall, and he’s gone.

nine years of friendship and he threw you away like you were nothing

in truth, the minute he was out of sight, he threw down his bag in anger

he turned around and you weren’t there anymore

you gave up on him

so if he hated you, you deserved it

it might be worth a hefty price anyway.

at least that’s what he told himself

(he never stopped missing you. almost as soon as he joined the fatui, he requested an audience with the tsaritsa to ask her how you were doing.)

“a simple agent, asking that much of me? and for a girl? that’s very bold of you.”

upon hearing it was about you, the cryo archon grew very interested. of course she remembered you.

the sickly orphan she gifted a vision to at a very young age.

she told him you were well

what she didn’t tell him was about baal going berserk and massacring thousands of her people.

upon receiving the news, he felt that chill upon him once again

the fear that fell onto his shoulders, weighing him down, too scared to ask for more information. he didn’t want to be told you were gone.

“the royal family was not harmed.”

he felt his muscles relax as he calmed down.

he quickly reassumed an upright stance.

he was the sixth harbinger. he has no weaknesses. he cares for nothing and no one.

but beneath his mask, the fire of his love for you burned brighter than the flame of any pyro vision.

a/n: ok so i really enjoyed this….scara banner when. i did tweak it a bit but i have other things written for this scenario in which scara returns to inazuma and reader is (deservingly) PISSED with him :) lmk if you want me to post those !

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Barrage

For @whumptober2021 day 3:  taunting | insults | “Who did this to you?”

CW: War whump, WWI, dehumanization, vampire whumpee, degrading language, negative/panic stimming due to sensory overload, casual ableism (it’s not intended as such, but effectively is), period-appropriate xenophobia, implied future loss of limb, brief religious talk at end

1918, the Western Front of World War One

-

If he’s screaming, he can’t hear himself over the sounds of the artillery.

Shells fly through the air with the only warning a high whistle before they burst apart in blasts that shake the trenches like an infant with a rattle, knocking free dirt from the sides of the trenches.

It drifts down to land on his shoulders, settling over the hands he has over his head. His palms press against his ears and it does nothing, absolutely nothing. There are tears in his eyes, fear bleeding pink into mud that simply turns darker, seeing no difference between vampiric saltwater and blood. 

Not that there is much of a difference, really. 

His mouth is wide open against the ground, throat taut, lungs tight with the expulsion of air but the vibration of sound in his throat is so overwhelmed by the rumbling of the earth and the barrage slamming into the ground around him that he can’t feel if he’s making any sounds or not.

If he had a beating heart it would be pounding, but it lays still in his chest, locked in the final heartbeat he’d had more than a decade before. 

That he is already dead never quite undoes the visceral horror of sounds too loud for a human mind to understand, destruction too total and complete. The part of him that is still human shrieks at him to run, but there isn’t anywhere to go.

The barrage is everywhere, it’s in everything. The trees blast apart above their heads, branches and fragments of bark and leaves rain down into the trench. 

The other men hunker down, trying not to look directly up, each of them with eyes closed or staring off into space, flinching now and then, hands trembling so hard their rifles rattle. There’s no point in moving - the shells will find them if they so much as pop up over the bags. All they can do is wait, and wait, and hear the sounds without knowing which come from their own side and which from the enemy.

In a moment like this, the human body knows only terror, and there is nowhere to run to escape it.

Finally, the sounds start to die off. A final whistle, a single explosion, and then everything falls silent.

Not that the vampire boy can tell, not at first.

His ears keep ringing, painful noise that is inside him and not without. He slowly pulls his hands off from his ears and pushes up to his knees, shuddering, rocking back and forth in an attempt to soothe his nerves. He can feel, now, the vibration in his throat. He can’t hear himself but he must be humming, low and tuneless, trying to drown out the panic. 

Once the shells have finished, the gunfire begins.

“Here they come! Steady aim, boys, the Krauts are on us!”

The sound of the soldier’s voice seems tinny and small, so distant, trapped behind the ringing in Tristan’s ears. He screams himself, into the mud beneath him. Someone races past, stopping briefly to pat his head. If they speak, he can’t hear them over the shrieking noise inside his mind.

Short reports break through the air like thrown knives, the soldiers in the trenches alongside him popping briefly up from behind their protective shield of sandbags to fire on the German infantry who come out of the shell-smoke like a swell of horrible phantoms. 

They fall, they cry out, they hit the ground.

Sometimes the Americans let out a cry themselves, someone is fired upon and falls. Someone else yells in fierce victory. Someone shouts a curse. 

He hears a man shout, “I won’t die today!” and hopes it’s true.

Tristan loses time, shivering compulsively and curling into himself, humming and rocking until the ringing finally starts to die down. Longer, still, as long as the rifles continue to fire. He hears a wild, high-pitched cry, and glances up to see a German with a bayonet through him drop to his knees and then fall into the trench, landing less than three feet away.

The man’s probably dead before he hits, but Tristan still screams and pushes back, scrambling until his back hits the wall. His knees are damp from the mud he’s curled up in and he doesn’t care, he’s never cared. All that matters is finding some small hint of peace.

It seems like an eternity before even the gunfire starts to go quiet.

There’s a voice that calls, but he can’t care enough to let the sounds filter into understandable words. He smacks his hands into the mud, again and again, pushing himself forward and back, finally leaning down to knock his head into the ground, over and over. Each contact with solidity is a soothing rush, slowly working its way down his spine and through his muscles, reminding him that the noise is gone, the noise is over.

The voice calls again.

There’s no more guns firing, no more shells. The world settles into an awful heavy silence that is nearly worse than the sounds. They’re in the middle of a forest more vast than any Tristan has ever seen before, and there are no birds, because there are no more trees for the birds to live in.

Only the doughboys and the enemy, everyone the walking dead. They’re as dead as Tristan is, their bodies just haven’t figured it out yet. And they won’t get back up when they fall.

The vampire keeps knocking his head into the ground. It helps to stop his thoughts from spinning and swirling in a mad spiral inside.

It doesn’t help enough.

He’s brought back to himself by a kick, a fellow soldier’s boot knocking hard into his hip and sending him onto his side. He grunts and looks up, squinting. The German soldier’s corpse is gone - they’ve moved it while he was locked within himself, within his terror. The sky above them has a sickly glow beneath heavy clouds brought on by smoke from the fires and explosion. 

The soft sound of distant wounded calling for help filters into his understanding. 

The soldier that kicked him, Kirk, gives him a grin. The man’s face is streaked with mud, dark with it, and only his teeth and his eyes show white. “Hey, medic. Didn’t you hear the officers?”

Tristan looks up at him, and slowly shakes his head. His ears ring, a little, but all their ears ring. They’re all shouting just to be heard.

“Huh. Well, trench got blown apart off to the east. It’s your time to do what you do best, fangs. Go sniff out the ones we can save.” Kirk grins. “Like a fucking dog.”

The vampire closes his eyes, shuddering, looking away, shaking his head more in denial than in real refusal. It feels like the shells are still breaking apart inside him, shuddering rumbles inside his nerves now, not up in the sky. His whole body shakes. “I, I, I c-c-can’t, can’t, I-... I c-can’t go, go up there, c-can’t-”

“Doesn’t matter what you wanna do or not, bloodfuck. You think any of us would be here if anyone important gave a damn about our feelings? Gotta earn your bloodbags, don’t you? Get up there with the dogs where you fucking belong. ”

The other soldiers laugh as Kirk kicks him again. Their laughter isn’t even mean, exactly, but carries an edge of hysteria. It’s a release of tension after the barrage for them, after the gunfire, after the loss or three or four of their own, listening to how Kirk talks to him. It makes them all feel better, reminds them they’re still alive by reminding them that the vampire isn’t.

And, for whatever it is worth, it seems they’ve held the line.

To Tristan’s mind, a bit of land doesn’t seem worth what they are being asked to suffer.

He uncurls himself slowly, his bones aching in protest of his movements, his body begging him not to show himself above the bags, to be potentially seen by a German sniper just waiting for the American soldiers to pop up thinking it’s all over and make excellent little targets.

The vampire reaches out with a trembling hand to pick up his helmet where it’s been discarded beside him, stuffing his hair up underneath as he pulls it on. He tries to buckle it, but he keeps dropping the straps. His fingers won’t close, they’ll only shake. 

Kirk finally huffs a sigh and leans forward, grabbing him by one arm and yanking him over, taking the straps in hand and doing the buckle himself, jerking it too tight until the vampire whimpers at the pinch. “You’re fucking useless, bloodsucker. Go on. Serve your fucking country, like the rest of us. We’ll see you later. Hey. We made it, huh? This time we keep breathing. Well, we keep breathing, anyways. You keep… uh, whatever it is you do.”

The vampire nods, slowly, eyes searching Kirk’s for some hint of something other than his hatred. 

For the first time since they were shipped out, Kirk’s expression does soften. 

Just a little bit. 

“Come on, bloodfuck.” He says the insulting name almost like an endearment. “Don’t look like that. You’ll be all right,” He says, voice low, giving the vampire’s chin a playful little shake. “It’s just the artillery, just a little scrap. They brought out their big guns, and look at us, we still got our limbs, ain’t we? You still got those chompers. Hell, none of us wet ourselves this time, so we’re doing a sight better than last time.”

The other soldiers chuckle, a little. Someone mumbles, “That was once.”

“Oh, hush it, Fallows, nobody looks down on you for it, everybody’s a bit crackers the first time they get shelled.”

“Yeah, Fallows, we’ve all been there.”

“Listen, after my first time it took me three weeks to go to the latrine without a buddy just in case, you’re all right.”

The soldier who must be Fallows shifts, but he half-smiles, a little, comforted by the camaraderie around him. Tristan’s heart hurts, wishing he could be part of it, not kept apart by the curse in his blood. 

A different soldier - Tristan thinks the man’s name is Davies - pulls out a canteen of what is probably supposed to be water and almost certainly isn’t. The American army doesn’t imbibe, officially, but Tristan’s never seen an officer who didn’t look the other way after a battle if his men needed liquid courage to make it to the next one. 

“I, I, I’m scared,” The vampire whispers. A tear trickles down the cleared path along the dirt in his face, following the trails of those he’s cried before. Kirk looks at him and rubs his thumb over the vampire’s high cheekbone, smearing dirt back over. Like trying to fill in a dried riverbank. “I’m, um, sc-scared of the sounds, Kirk.”

“So’re the rest of us. Fritz never does it halfway, does he? I get you. We’re still here, for now.” Kirk pats the side of the vampire’s face, almost gently, and then pushes him backwards with a sudden resurgence of his usual careless violence. “Now go find the crump-hole Fritz made of the others and pull out the wounded.”

He has to do this. It’s his job, and it’s the only reason he hasn’t been staked out like the ones who refused to go willingly. The vampire swallows, nodding slowly, and turns away. He has to jog down the narrow line of the trench, past rows of soldiers who watch him with dulled eyes that stare far, far past him. Twice he pops his head up, just for a second, to get a better look at where he should go. 

Ahead of him, the No Man’s Land stretches. It’s a hellscape, cratered and with any hint of greenery long gone. A morass of mud and the still-standing stump of the occasional tree. There are dead men out there, he can smell them. Some new dead, mostly old, the ones that aren’t worth pulling back behind the lines, not yet. Some wounded men who call for water, for help, but who mostly call for their mothers.

Tristan would call for his, too, if he thought it would help.

There’s dead Germans out there, he can see their uniforms on the prone, still bodies. Some of their wounded cry mama, mutti, mutterchen. A few cry papa, vaterchen. Tristan has seen enough dead - some by his own hand, though he never wanted to kill anyone, William didn’t tell him how not to and he had to find that out on his own - to know that nearly everyone, at the end, thinks finally of who they love most.

Someone cries, in a broken voice, “Cady, help me,” and Tristan closes his eyes against the pleading in the sound. 

Seems like more Germans than Americans, this time, and he might see some French, too. It’s hard to tell, with the smoke is still rolling over the land.

He hopes they don’t try to gas each other again. It doesn’t affect the vampires, but he’s seen too many men die choking on their own lungs already, he’s ready to never see such a thing ever again. 

He sighs, gets back down into the trench, and keeps moving.

The ranks thin out, and he finds himself utterly alone for the last few hundred yards.

There’s a brief burst of gunfire that has him shaking again, flinching and stumbling into a depression underneath the top, where a soldier might sleep at night. The vampire stays there, curled up tight staring in fear, until the gunfire subsides.

Once it fades, he hears the barking.

Ambulance dogs.

“Medics! We have wounded!” A man’s voice cries, rough-edged. “We need help!” Ahead of him, the trench collapses in on itself, blown apart by shells. A soldier’s rifle lays in the mud, bayonet glinting faintly. Next to it, a photograph, a young man and woman standing next to each other, dotted with dirt. The woman has a slight smile on her face, and the young man’s arms are around her waist. They look happy.  

The vampire’s throat closes as he looks at it. She’s very pretty, he thinks. She’ll be very sad when she hears that her soldier isn’t coming home. He wishes he had any photographs of his parents. 

If he must be damned to never see them again, even in Eternity, it seems doubly unfair that he can’t even find an image of them to remember them by. He’s sure there were photos taken at the island where they were processed, but those photos weren’t for them. They were kept by the men and women who barked orders at the young Tristan and his parents as they went through the line. 

“We have living wounded!” The man calls again, much closer, and the vampire jolts back into motion. He picks up the photograph and tucks it into one of the pouches at his waist, next to a small vial of plain alcohol he uses to wash out wounds.

He can see the dogs up top as they dig, paws burying themselves with incredible speed in loosened mud as their handlers move next to them, encouraging them. Every dog wears a big white square patch with a cross on each side, marking them as ambulance dogs. The vampire has a patch on his left arm like that, marked with a cross for medic - and a V to make sure he is always known for what he is by anyone who sees him. 

As if the fangs don’t give him away. As if the way his eyes look in the darkness isn’t a clue all its own. 

There’s a high-pitched bark and a shout of triumph, and the vampire looks up and sees a man so covered in dirt he seems less human than golem being helped to his feet. He’s miraculously uninjured except for having been half-buried in mud. 

“Let’s go, soldier,” The dog’s handler says, and then moves quickly away. The soldier follows him, shuffling more than walking, staring around in amazement that he’s still alive.

The Germans could fire again at any moment, of course, and the vampire finds himself frozen, staring up into the yellow-tinged dark sky. There’s a low rumble, a whistle and boom, and he flinches before he realizes the sound is so distant that it must mean shelling much further down the line than he is.

That doesn’t mean what they’re doing is safe.

He’s still staring up at the sky, waiting for the barrage to begin again, when something closes tight around his wrist and he jolts to the side with a cry of shock and fear.

It’s a hand.

A hand, reaching out from the mud. Dirt is ground into every knuckle, under the torn fingernails, into the callouses worn into the pads of his fingers. The hand grasps wildly, blindly, trying to find anything to hold onto.

There’s a living man buried under the mud.

The vampire has to work his throat to find his voice, and when he does he cries out, “We, we, we have living wounded! Living wounded! B-buried, buried, help! I need help!”

There’s a flurry of movement as the vampire lurches forward, gripping onto the hand and digging with his other, trying to give the man who must be in there some reassurance that he is felt, seen, found.

Trying to give him some air before whatever he’s got runs out. 

One of the other medics hops down and lands roughly on their feet next to him. It’s another vampire, one that Tristan has never seen before. They’re older-seeming, with straggly long dark-blond hair barely held back in a plait down their back. The vampires aren’t usually allowed to speak to one another for fear that they’d plan some sort of mutiny, and so the other medic is silent other than a soft grunt, digging into the dirt with their bare hands with inhuman rapidity, uncaring for the possibility of injuries because they simply cannot hurt their muscles any longer.

Tristan feels the hand he’s holding squeeze and he gives two squeezes in return. We’ve got you, just hold on, hold your breath, just a little longer.

Eventually the frantic work of the other medic reveals dirtied blond hair, helmet-less, marked with mud and blood in equal measure from a cut they can see as the man’s forehead is revealed. Then his eyes open wide and very blue, he gasps in air.

“Pl-please,” He manages, his voice a rasp. “Please, help me-”

Tristan exhales an unnecessary breath in relief, and smiles. “Hold, hold, hold on, hold on, we’ve got you, soldier.”

The man sees his fangs but he’s too full of the rush of adrenaline at the prospect that he has been saved from suffocation to be scared of them. Instead he starts to cry, weeping and holding onto Tristan with a bone-crushing grip. 

The other medic hisses as they dig in and find a dead soldier on top of the living one. This one has the telltale slightly-open eyes of someone long gone, body still warm. There’s an awful caved-in look to one side of his head that Tristan refuses to allow himself to see. “Must have protected him that way,” The vampire notes, coldly informative, uncaring. “Dead took the brunt of the blows. One lucky man, one unlucky one. Flip of a coin, living or dying.” They sound like they don’t care at all.

Tristan wonders how long they’ve been a medic. If they maybe felt more at the beginning.

The smell of blood moves through the air like a bubbling stew, making Tristan’s mouth water. He holds back as best he can, pulling to help dislodge the survivor from the dirt his compatriots have died in. 

Some of them still haven’t yet - the vampires can scent the difference between dead and living, and there are more soldiers still breathing under the rubble. He can smell that some are so wounded they won’t last long. Others, though, they’ll get out in time.

Tristan doesn’t look at the slack expression of the dead soldier whose body kept this one alive as he is revealed. The survivor comes free - first his shoulders, then his arms come up to grip tightly around Tristan’s waist. His torso is revealed, his hips…

It’s only when they finally get him fully freed, laying on the ground, that Tristan realizes one of his legs is… wrong. Bent wrong, nearly blasted off. He swallows at the sight.

“We, we, we need a stretcher,” Tristan says, frowning. The soldier groans, as if only now beginning to feel the pain of the shattered bones from his thigh down to his foot. “He, he, he can’t walk. He’s gonna lose the, um, the the the leg.”

“God, no,” The soldier pleads to no one in particular. “Please, no, not my leg…”

“Hush. Better that than your eyes or your face, mouthbreather.” The other vampire launches themself at the side of the trench, clambering back up - only for there to be a sudden burst of new gunfire, and Tristan stares up in panic as the vampire’s body jolts as three bullets pass through them.

They stumble backwards, briefly, then bare their fangs in the direction the gunfire came from and hold up their hands with middle fingers raised high above their head. They give a loud, half-mad trill of laughter.

“Have at it, Huns, I’m already dead!” 

Then they turn on their heels, moving at a rapid jog towards the medical tents nearby. There are bullet holes in the back of their uniform, new fresh ones alongside several that have already been patched up from earlier hits.

“Please, I have to-... have to go home,” The survivor of the bombardment says in a whisper, and Tristan turns back to him, nodding slowly. The man’s face is pinched with agony, but… but he’s familiar. “I can’t die here, fangs. I can’t.”

“Don’t, um, don’t don’t don’t worry… you’ll go home, you will.” He doesn’t know that, not really, but it’s what every soldier wants to hear, and the doughboy beside him lets out a breath of relief and smiles, a little, trusting him. Tristan hitches in a breath, and digs into his belt-bag, pulling the photograph out. It’s the same young man as the subject of the photo, his sweetheart next to him. Maybe she’ll see him again after all.

He holds it out. He sees the soldier blink, struggling to focus.

Tristan clears his throat. “I, I, I… um, I found this.”

The soldier grabs it with his free hand and gives a hysterical, relieved laugh, pulling it to his lips and giving it a kiss. “Marta,” he breathes. “Oh… thank you, fangs. Thanks for finding it.” he looks up at Tristan with a bright smile, teeth seeming terribly white in his dirt-coated face.

They are so rarely kind to him, the soldiers. 

The vampire closes his eyes against a new rush of tears. He whispers, “Look, look, look at the, the, the photo for just a moment for me,” and lifts the soldier’s wrist to his mouth. The soldier knows the score - he doesn’t even go tense. He's probably been bitten a few times before.

When the vampire sinks his teeth in, it’s as gentle as possible. He takes little blood, only pushes venom into the wounds until the soldier’s body goes limp and relaxed, his eyes still locked on the photo of the woman he wishes badly to go home to.

“Tell, tell, tell me, um, about… about, about Marta,” The vampire says, glancing up. He can hear further shouting. The other vampire’s voice, which  means help is on the way. “While we wait for the stretcher.”

The soldier’s eyes drift shut.

“She’s… she’s nineteen. Preacher’s daughter, her ma and two sisters died from the flu this year. She’s got four little brothers who made it, though. We were married just before I was sent to basic training, last fall… Hey.” The soldier looks right at him, meets his eyes. “What’s your name, fangs?”

No one ever asks him that.

He blinks once, twice, three times. “What?”

“Your name. What can I call you?”

“Uh, Tristan, um, Medical, um, Un-dead Medical Private Tristan Higgs.”

“Huh. I’m Dennis. Just… I don’t care for all the titles we get. Just say Dennis. Tired of bein’ called by what I am and not who.”

He nearly laughs. He knows the feeling. “Nice, um, nice to meet you, Den, Dennis.” 

“You, too, Tristan. You’re Irish, right?”

Tristan nods, a little, his smile widening slightly. “Was. Been in New York since, ah, before the turning of the, um, the the century.”

“Were you a vampire when you came here?”

Tristan swallows, looking away. “No.”

“Oh.” Dennis falls silent, for a moment, then squeezes his hand. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to bring on bad memories.”

“That’s, um, that’s all right.” Tristan settles onto the muddy ground, with the body of the soldier who didn’t make it visible in the dug-out part of the cave-in, and listens. The other soldier, he thinks, likely would have his own people waiting for him, who now must be told the terrible news - but this man, Dennis, he’ll go home to his Marta, one-legged but alive. 

Dennis never lets go of his hand. 

Whenever his face starts to show his pain again, Tristan lifts the man’s wrist back to his mouth, fills him with venom again, and asks him more questions about home.  

Dennis thanks him for it, every time. 

He says Tristan reminds him of his own brother, who’s still back home working the dairy farm he grew up on. “He’s always been better with the cows than people, anyway. He’d hate all this racket,” Dennis murmurs.

“I, I, I hate it, too.” Tristan smiles, just a little. “I’d say you, um, you get used to it, but…”

“You don’t,” Dennis says, heavily.

“Right. You… no, um, you don’t.”

Tristan hopes Dennis gets to go home to his pretty Marta, his brother and the cows, and never come back to this hell the rest of them are trapped in until its bitter end. He hopes, deeper than that and in a secret place within himself, that he will redeem some of the damnation of what he was turned into by doing as much good as he can while he’s here.

He can’t go home.

Home is people, not a place, and his are long, long gone.

But maybe if he suffers for the good of the living, he’ll be seen as redeemed enough by God and His angels to be allowed to see his mother and father again.

-

@mylifeisonthebookshelf @insaneinthepaingame @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @endless-whump @newandfiguringitout @astrobly @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @pretty-face-breaker @doveotions @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @what-a-whump

[127-mile]

Let’s pretend we’re in love.

Pairing: Doyoung x gender neutral reader.

Genre: Fake dating, unrequited love, bff to strangers | Angst.

Warnings: strong language.

Plot: Doyoung is beautiful, he is also kind, attentive, affectionate, smart and funny. He is charismatic, and well-spoken. His voice could be mistaken with that of an angel, whether he is speaking, or singing. Doyoung is everyone's dream, the one person you would never hesitate to introduce to your parent. Doyoung is also...mean. Doyoung has the face and the voice of an angel, in the body of a demon.

Doyoung tells his mother he is dating you after lying about his relationship. Doyoung knows about your feelings, but he doesn’t care.

Word count: +4.2k.

A/n: this is part of the Mad about the boy collab hosted by @slightlymore​.

Doyoung is beautiful, he is also kind, attentive, affectionate, smart and funny. He is charismatic, and well-spoken. His voice could be mistaken with that one of an angel, whether he is speaking, or singing. Doyoung is everyone's dream, the one person you would never hesitate to introduce to your parents. Doyoung is also..

"Y/n are you listening to me?" you are pulled away from your thoughts when Doyoung nudges you. He has been talking for over five minutes now, but all you could think about was how perfect he is. Yes, you saw his lips move, but you did not hear a sound that come out of his mouth. Now that you think about it, Doyoung does have pretty lips, and you wonder how it would feel to kiss him.

"Oh, what is wrong with you today?" he stops and grabs your wrist when you are about to run into a pole. "Are you alright? Are you sick? Do you need me to drive you back home? I can call my parents, and tell them I'll be late, it's fine. You look awfully lost today." you have a long sigh, why is he like this, always so caring.

"I'm fine Doyoung, don't worry about me, I guess I'm just a bit tired." you answer, and he does not look convinced but he shrugs. "Are you sure? My parents will not be mad if you decide to skip dinner." you shake your head as you start walking again, pulling Doyoung with you as he was still holding your wrist. "It's fine. What were you saying?"

"I was talking about my parents, and the reason they invited us." well, technically, they invited Doyoung to eat with them, but Doyoung answered one of your calls, and upon hearing your name, his parents decided to invite you too. A free meal in a nice restaurant is always pleasant, so you had to say yes. Maybe you shouldn't have, with how hard it is for you to focus on anything else than Doyoung's face.

"This weekend is the weekend where the whole family gets together in our grandparents' country house. I told them I would not come because of work, so they are going to try and convince me to join them." this time, you are the one stopping in your tracks. "If you knew what they were going to talk about, why did pretty much beg me to come? I do not want to be in the middle of an argument with your parents."

You met Doyoung when him and his family moved in the neighoroud, you were still young, so you have known each other for a very long time, and he got into the habit of having you by his side during arguments, because you are what he calls a neutral zone, or whatever is reasoning is. "Oh come on, you know they can't refuse me anything when you are here!"

"Doyoung, you are 25 year old! You should know how to settle an argument with your parents, you should know how to make them listen to you and accept whatever you have to say." he tilts his head to the side, and his eyes meet yours. It's enough for your heart to skip a beat, or two. Stupid heart. "Please?"

"Why don't you want to go by the way? The house is really cool, there is a lake, and your family is really sweet. Don't you miss them?" he looks around, and he notices how close he is from the restaurant. If he tries hard enough, he is pretty sure he can see his parents near a bay window, laughing together. "Because, I may have told my mother I had a partner, and she expects me to bring them."

"You are a dumbass, Kim Doyoung." you say in a sigh. "Why would you tell her that? If you do not have time to brush your hair, you definitely do not have time to date someone." he looks offended, but then he remembers the mess on his head, and he decides to stay quiet on the subject. "I don't know! My mom's been on my back about finding someone for months now, I guess I got tired of hearing her and I decided to lie."

"Why don't you find someone? Don't you have a cute coworker you wanted to ask on a date once? Ask them to play your partner." you hate how bright his smile becomes when you mention said coworker. You try not to think about what they have, that you do not have. This is not the time to mope. You'll cry about it later. "That's a great idea! You are the best."

Yes, yes, you are.

Doyoung crosses the road, and he pushes open the door to the restaurant. "After you." he says, and you step inside, smiling at the sudden warmth that invades your body. "Good evening, do you have a reservation?" the young man asks, and Doyoung nods. "My parents are waiting for us, they made a reservation under the name of Kim."

"Yes!" he exclaims, and he walks you to the table. The couple stands up when they see you, and you let Doyoung's mother embrace you for a second. "Y/n, it's been a while, how are you doing sweetheart?" she asks, and you sit down in front of her. "I am doing just fine, how are you?"

"Same old, same old." she starts, head tilted to the side. "we are trying to organize the family weekend, and as usual, it's stressful." you understand. You participated in a few of these gathering, and you know how stressfull everything is. You never regretted anything more than the time you offered to help.

"Yes, Doyoung told me, I'm sure it's going to be amazing, and you'll have a wonderful time with your family." the woman smiles warmly, and she puts her hand on Doyoung's. "Tell me baby, did you ask your partner to come with you?" you nibble on your lower lip, you are excited to hear his arguments.

"Mom, I told you, I have too much work, I can't come." she shakes her head, and you share a look with his father. He knows he is lying, but he keeps his mouth shut, he knows better than to intervene. "Come on Doyoung, don't be silly, I'm sure whatever you have to do can wait for the weekend to be over."

Before he can open his mouth, she raises her hand to shut him up. "I have an idea. Why don't you take your work with you, and I'll give you a couple of hours to work in your grandfather's office, how does that sound?" Doyoung's mother is tenacious, she knows what she wants, and she is ready to do everything in order to get it.

"You know, my darling, that I'm not getting younger by the day, and my dream is to meet the person who makes you so so happy." oh, she went there, you think. Doyoung looks at you, and you smirk, you are not going to help him. "I have something to tell you first."

"I'm listening." but before Doyoung can say anything, the waitress gives you the menu, and comes back to take the orders. And when she leaves, Doyoung's mother prompts him to speak. "Go on, my love, is something wrong?"

"Everything is fine, mother." he plays with his fingers, and you wonder what he is going to say. His mouth opens, and closes for a second, you wonder if he said anything, or if you blacked out because of what he said. All you hear is his mother squeal with delight, and when you look up, she is absolutely beaming.

"Oh my god! I told you it would happen eventually!" she says, hitting her husband on the shoulder. "You did say that." he mumbles, rubbing the aching spot. "I am so happy! And the family loves you, they are going to be thrilled to hear that!"

The rest of the dinner is a blur, you hear and say things, but your brain can't quite process whatever is happening. You must look odd to the Kim's eyes, but you can't even find it in yourself to care.

"See you on Saturday sweetheart." Doyoung's mother says, cupping your cheeks to kiss your forehead. "Yes, Saturday."

When the car disappears from your sight, you turn on your heels to face Doyoung. At least he has the decency to look ashamed, and he doesn't say anything when you hit him in the chest. "What the fuck, Doyoung?" you yell, and he knows people are looking at the scene, even if it's already dark outside.

"I'm sorry, I panicked." he answers, and you shake your head. "Couldn't you admit that you lied, instead of luring me into your lies without asking first!" he takes your hand, and he sighs. "I know, I know. But you were there, and my mom was so excited, I don't know what happened. And look how happy she was when I said it."

"Imagine how sad she is going to be when she'll learn it was a lie, Doyoung!" he knows he should have thought before opening his mouth in the restaurant, but it was his only solution, or so you thought. "She doesn't have to know it was a lit, we can just... I don't know, break up?"

This is a bad idea, you think. For you, who have been madly in love with Doyoung ever since you were kids, it's going to hurt. Because you know Doyoung does not reciprocate your feelings, and never will, and he will play the perfect boyfriend you wish you had.

The break up is going to hurt like a bitch, even if it's fake, and yet, you open your mouth. "We are breaking up at the end of the weekend."

"We need to get the details right, when did we become official?"

Doyoung sits on the edge of the bed as you put your clothes in the dresser. "I don't know Doyoung. You are the one who brought me into this mess, so you should be the one thinking about it." he mumbles something you don't understand, and you turn on your heels to face him. "You are telling me that you did not think about the details at all?"

You did think about everything, of course you did. Not because you were excited about this situation, but because it is something you thought about a lot these past few years.

"I was busy!" he exclaims, and you sigh. "If you want it to be believable, you need to think. Right now. Because your family will be there in a few minutes." you are glad you arrived before everything else, it gives you the time to settle down, and to think about the things you could have talked about in the car.

"We can't tell them it's been a few months, because my mom will bet mad that I did not tell her sooner. So maybe two or three weeks?" you nod. "Yeah, okay. Who confessed?" Doyoung seems to think about it, and when he opens his mouth to answer, you wish you never asked the question. "You, you did it. It what you would have done if it really happened, uh?"

You do not say anything, you do not like the way he said it, like he knows something. He probably does to be honest, you are not the best at hiding your feelings.

"Kids, come say hello!" saved by the bells.

You get out of your bedroom, and you go down the stairs. A few of Doyoung's cousins just entered the house, and they smile when they see you both. "Oh, Y/n, I didn't know you would be here!" Jungwoo says and he puts you into a bone-crushing hug. "Yeah, last minute decision." you answer.

You greet the other members of the family, and before you can understand what is happening, someone grabs your hand to pull you into the living room. "Guys, you all know Y/n, right? Well, I would like to officially introduce Y/n as my partner!"

You try not to look uncomfortable when they all cooe, but you can't smile either. Doyoung is just dropping the bomb, when you thought he would tell the news to some members of the family if they ever asked about his love life. Well, you agreed to be here, so you have to go with the flow. Or rather with Doyoung's decisions.

"I never thought I would see the day where you would finally confess your feelings for our dear cousin." Jungwoo says, and you laugh but god do you want to punch him square in the face. He is the only one in the family to know about your true feelings, so with the little announcement, he feels allowed to say everything he knows.

"Yes, I was wondering if Y/n was ever going to do it. About time." Doyoung answers, and you roll your eyes, but fortunately, his mother calls everyone in the garden. She wants to celebrate the beginning of what she thinks will be a memorable weekend.

"They are gone, you can let go of my hand." you mumble, and he shakes his head. "We have to play the perfect little couple, so might as well do it fully." what is the point of playing when no one is around to see you, if not play with your heart. "You always wanted it, so don't be like that. Come on, let's not make them wait."

He leads you to the garden, and when he finally lets go of your hand to grab two glasses of wine, you feel yourself breathing again. Of course, you spent the last couple of days thinking about the weekend, and how it would turn out, but you thought it would be nice, you know, to be closer to your long-time crush, but no, it's unberable and it's been less than an hour.

"I would like to thank everyone for making the trip for the weekend, I am really glad to see you all, because I have to be honest with you, this year was not easy, and I missed each and every one of you. I am also really grateful to have Y/n with us, I always knew Y/n would be the one to make our sweet boy happy."

Doyoung looks proud, and he is beaming under the attention when you want nothing more than to burry yourself in the ground. "Thank you for accepting me." you say when you hear nothing but silence and feel way too many pairs of eyes on you. "Of course, my love. You were always part of the family, so it is even more normal to have you here with us today."

That's sweet, but what is not is the way Doyoung chuckles under his breath.

"Oh, here you are!" Jungwoo sits down next to you on the couch, and he puts his head on your shoulder. "I've been looking for you everywhere. You know the grandfather's office is off limit?" you shrug, eyes still closed. "I don't care, I needed some alone time."

Jungwoo straightens up, and he does what he does best, he pouts. "What's going on? Are you not happy to be here with us?" you heave a long sigh, opening your eyes to look at him. "I am. I'm always happy to see all of you, especially you Woo, but I don't know. I guess it's overwhelming this time."

"I bet it is. Everyone is all over you, asking you questions. I would dip too if I were you." he answers, and you stay quiet for a couple of minutes. "You and Doyoung, it's an hoax right?" you do not know if you like or hate the fact that Jungwoo is always quick to catch on. "It's that obvious?"

"Not really," he starts, standing up to stretch his long legs. "but you've been in love with him for ever, so seeing you here, when you should be glued to him is weird." that's definitely what you would be doing if Doyoung was not acting so.. you do not even know how to describe it. "I don't know Woo, Doyoung has been acting weird since we arrived."

"What do you mean?" you take the time to think about it, because Jungwoo is still Doyoung's cousin, and you do not want to upset him. "He is the one who told his parents that we were dating, without asking me first, and yet, he is acting like an asshole."

"He throws little comments about my feelings, my real feelings, each chance he gets, and every time, he has that nasty smile on his face." you explain, and Jungwoo hums. "I know it's been only a few hours, and he is probably acting out of nervousness, but it's like.. did he just trick me into coming here just to humiliate me in front of everyone?"

You expect Jungwoo to tell you that you are wrong, that you are imagining everything, but no. "I would not be surprise, to be honest with you." you narrow your eyes, and you don't know what to expect now. "We went on vacation last year, remember? And there, he met this person. It was obvious that they caught feelings for him, and he just played with them."

"He is not stupid, and he understood pretty quickly, but instead of being flattered or to let them down gently, he just decided to be an asshole about it." if Doyoung was not acting like that today, you would never have believed a word of what he said. This is not the Doyoung you know. "But why would he do that? He is not like that on the daily."

"Everyone things he is perfect, but I guess perfection does not extist, and he is the proof." you don't really know how to feel right now. You want to leave, because you are mad. You are mad at yourself, and you are mad at him. "But why me? I'm here to help him, and I'm his best friend, not some kind of summer fling. I never did anything to wrong him or anything, I don't understand."

"I wish I knew Y/n." he answers, putting his hand on your shoulder. "I know how much you love him, and I am sorry he is playing with you." you sigh, you are at loss for words right now. You want to leave but you can't, not this early. Maybe you can find an excuse to leave? No, you can't. Doyoung is the one who drove you here.

"Keep me from hurting him if he decides to act up again today." you say, and Jungwoo nods with a smile. "You know, I am not that strong, so if I can't hold you for long enough, and that you end up actually hurting him, I'm sorry." he winds, and he opens the door to let your out first.

"Well, that was a nice day!" Doyoung says as he lets himself fall on the bed. You have to move your arm to avoid it being stuck under his body. "Good for you." you answer, and he turns on his side to look at you, frowning. "Is something wrong?"

"Are you really asking me that?" you don't know if you should tell him everything you have in mind, or keep quiet and wait until you leave, but you are not sure you can hold for another day. All you know is that you don't want to snap in front of the entire family.

"I have a question, why are you such an asshole with me?" he straightens up, back against the bedframe and he crosses his arms against his chest. "What are you talking about? Wa barely talked today!" you scoff. "And for a reason. Every time we talked, you just made me look like an idiot."

"Why are you doing this? What was the point of asking me to come, if you were planning on being mean?" he bites the inside of his cheek. If you try to remain calm, it seems hard for him too. He has a lot to say, but everyone is asleep, and he knows how quick he gets angry, and he doesn't want anyone to eavesdrop.

"So we are really doing this, uh?" you don't know what he is referring to, but you nod either way. "I'm tired Y/n. I'm tired of you being in love with me." well, that's not what you were expecting, but you are not surprised, if this taught you anything is that you can't expect anything when it comes to Doyoung anymore.

"Hear me out. I know you love me, I always knew, and the attention is nice, but I never mentionned it because you are my best friend, and I never wanted our relationship to change. But I met someone." oh.

"It's my coworker, the one I wanted to ask of a date. Well, I did, last year, and we've been dating ever since. But they can't stand the way you look at me, and it weight a lot on our relationship." you shake your head. "Then why did you bring me? Why didn't you introduce them to your parents instead?"

"How do I say that.. I needed a reason for you to hate me. Not as your friend, but as a potential lover. I needed something to calm your feelings, because as much as I love you, as a friend, my relationship with them is way more important." it feels like someone is squeezing your heart, and you wouldn't be surprised if it came out of your ribcage, in pieces.

"They hate how you look at me, and I understand, I am to the point where I hate it too." you open your eyes wide, and you look up. You refuse to cry. Not in front of Doyoung, he does not deserve it. "So your only option was to break my heart, in front of your entire family? You could have told me the truth, I would have understood you know, I might be in love with you, but I am not stupid!"

"You say you love me as a friend, and yet, you are doing this. You decided to play with my heart to hurt me. And for what?" your voice is shaking, and it sounds a lot like a sob that escapes your pressed lips. "I'm sorry." he whispers, and you laugh as you get out of bed.

"You are not sorry, Doyoung. This is not your first time doing something like this. Is this what gets you going? Breaking people's hearts? Are you planning on doing the same with your current partner?" he shakes his head, and of course, he would never do something like that. Sweet sweet Doyoung.

"You know what? You don't have to worry about me looking at you some type of way, because starting from tomorrow, you will not have to see me again. It'll be so much easier for you." you grab your suitcase, and you stuff your clothes inside. "What are you doing?" Doyoung stands up and he follows you every move.

"I'm going to sleep on the couch, and I'll go home first thing in the morning. Don't worry about driving me back, you can stay here, enjoy and explain to your mother why she will never see me again. Maybe you should also tell her why her son is such a fucking asshole, I'm sure she's going to love it."

"Come on, don't be like that." he says in a sigh, and you open the bedroom door. "Don't be like what? Don't be like a fucking human being with feelings? Well I'm sorry, but I am!" if the family was not around you, you would have sloed the door hard enough for the sound to echoes against the walls, but instead, you close it softly.

Doyoung is beautiful, he is also kind, attentive, affectionate, smart and funny. He is charismatic, and well-spoken. His voice could be mistaken with that of an angel, whether he is speaking or singing. Doyoung is everyone's dream, the one person you would never hesitate to introduce to your parents. Doyoung is also mean.

Doyoung has the face and the voice of an angel, in the body of a demon.

So yes, you are mad about the boy, but you are also mad about yourself.

[edenmemes]

assassin’s creed valhalla starters

words within ‘()’ are additional, optional choices! more maybe to be added at a later date. some n/sfw present. 

❝ you should see the other man. he got the worst of it. ❞   ❝ and who better to lead us to glory than me? ❞ ❝ i am most at home helping others. ❞       ❝ i’ve waited long enough for you, and you for me. ❞   ❝ thank you for not saying anything about my past. ❞       ❝ know that however far away, you’re always in my thoughts. ❞   ❝ when you see your god, tell them i sent you. ❞   ❝ what you make up in muscles, you’re lacking in spine. ❞   ❝ i almost envy you, to see the world through such a muddy glass and live with such petty concerns. ❞   ❝ i smell the stink of a dozen kingdoms in your beard. ❞   ❝ this feud is not yours, yet you fight it all the same. i find that strange. ❞   ❝ by the look on your face, you have lost your will to live. ❞   ❝ my arms are numb from battle. does it need any dressing?    do you think it is a serious wound? ❞   ❝ oh dear. this is not how i foresaw things. not at all! ❞   ❝ should we take this to your chamber? ❞   ❝ i want this. i want you. ❞   ❝ turn around, walk away, and you keep your insides inside. ❞   ❝ stay back! back! i will fight you! ❞   ❝ you look like reddened shit. what happened? ❞   ❝ i have always wanted to experience the world as you do. ❞   ❝ you come like a valkyrie out of a fog. but i have no dead to give you. ❞   ❝ all right, stay close and do as i do. ❞   ❝ home. or...it was home, once. now it is nothing but bone. ❞   ❝ i’ll have no qualms wiping clean your grin. ❞   ❝ just take care. such hatred can make you careless. ❞   ❝ away from your table for a day and you are already lusting for blood. ❞   ❝ if i did not know any better, i would say you are teasing me. ❞   ❝ the dream of new lands is a powerful lure. ❞   ❝ i love climbing up here. makes me feel as high as a raven. ❞   ❝ if i don’t find your horse, i will steal you a new one. ❞   ❝ i feel somewhat trapped. in this room, in this settlement, in this life. ❞   ❝ you are lost in a sea-storm of your own making. ❞   ❝ the poet in you sings once again. ❞   ❝ tonight, we will eat and drink like gods and wake in a kingdom made new. ❞   ❝ i wish i understood you better. for those i do not understand, i do not trust. (and i cannot stomach a lack of trust.) ❞ ❝ i’ve been called worse. ❞   ❝ you have nothing to fear from me. i bear you no ill will. ❞   ❝ you are a shadow of your father. weak and witless. ❞   ❝ what is this? is this...are we in hell? ❞   ❝ keep company with kings and you will soon have a crown of your own. ❞   ❝ a toothless cub may grow to be a dangerous wolf. ❞   ❝ you are far too young to speak so wise. ❞   ❝ i need clear, sound judgement. i need you. ❞   ❝ kind and courageous people live the best lives, but it can be a difficult path to keep. ❞ ❝ i want to say...i love you. and i have for some time. ❞ ❝ you smell that? the stink of jealousy. (of our budding friendship, i think). ❞   ❝ ah, while i have you, i’m reminded...i have this for you. ❞   ❝ your lies are just like you. big and bold. ❞   ❝ don’t excuse yourself. you enjoy this too much. ❞   ❝ you've come back. why are you wasting your time with me? ❞   ❝ care to sing a song? helps me pass the time. ❞   ❝ that is twice you have earned my admiration. ❞   ❝ you have only the setting sun to tell you when to stop. ❞   ❝ i want to know what you know. name your price. ❞   ❝ people like you deserve something worse than death. ❞   ❝ they called me a lout, a disgrace. they were right. ❞   ❝ i will have to get used to watching the sights of war from afar now. ❞   ❝ there’s no other way. fight or hide. it’s up to you. ❞   ❝ do not think me a coward. i am not afraid of war. ❞   ❝ friendships end. often at the point of a spear. ❞ ❝ i will make you beg as your father begged. ❞   ❝ (until that time,) it would be best to keep all discussions about...    about us to yourself. ❞ ❝ without you i would have lost my way a thousand times. ❞   ❝ you have no other friends. so tread lightly here. ❞   ❝ be it a blessing or a curse, family is always first. ❞   ❝ let’s not walk too far with that idea. i need you right where you are. ❞   ❝ you bested me. yet, i’m the one left standing. ❞   ❝ it’s a pleasure to meet you at least. ❞   ❝ you and your people here have done more for me than i could ever repay. ❞   ❝ you have my highest respect, regard, and trust. ❞   ❝ you’re not shy, are you? ❞   ❝ if we do this, you’ll earn the right to call me friend ten-thousand fold. ❞   ❝ does this have the stench of betrayal to you? ❞ ❝ today has meant so much. we rode, we fought, we drank, we laughed. (you showed me your world.) ❞       ❝ your end was written the moment you came for me. ❞   ❝ i am a sellsword. i ask what i please, and i take what i’m owed. ❞ ❝ you move and i will take your eyes. you hear me? ❞   ❝ i will leap first. on my word, you must follow. ❞   ❝ many times i wished to tell you. wished to say what was in my heart and what i desired. (but duty kept me from it.) ❞   ❝ these wounds will heal quickly. you’re lucky. ❞   ❝ anything to help you feel at home. ❞   ❝ our friendship is the best thing to come from this mess. ❞   ❝ you will be remembered for this, for years to come. ❞   ❝ i thought i had lost you. for good this time. ❞   ❝ you have shown me a great kindness. it is only fitting that i do the same. ❞   ❝ the mess you’re in...you don’t know the half of it. ❞   ❝ you have drawn a dark conclusion about me, haven’t you? (that is all well and good. i’ve drawn some about you as well.) ❞   ❝ you seem...strangely familiar. ❞   ❝ here i am, an upright man who never once learned how to bend the knee. and yet...i shall try. ❞ ❝ that’s a bread knife. do you mean to butter me? ❞   ❝ is that not something you worry over? ❞   ❝ a blind pursuit of vengeance has made you predictable. ❞   ❝ no matter where you are, or how far you travel, i will hunt you down. ❞   ❝ i came for you, looking for a friend and ally. ❞   ❝ people change.    it may be that you change with them, or you go your separate ways. ❞   ❝ i wish you whatever peace you may find in this new life you’ve found. ❞   ❝ i want your word: you will follow my orders. ❞   ❝ the day is new, and the air is bracing. are you ready for the fight ahead? ❞   ❝ er...good to meet you as well? ❞   ❝ what riches are worth so much misery, and the deaths of honorable men and women? ❞   ❝ my destiny is mine to weave. ❞   ❝ my road forward has been a muddy one. slick with blood and tears. (but we can reach its end together.) ❞   ❝ it is a wise leader who considers the needs of others. ❞   ❝ i think my mouth has gotten me in enough trouble today. ❞   ❝ at the end of all things, you will find yourself with nothing but your regrets. ❞   ❝ you saw fit to keep me guessing through your fits of madness. ❞   ❝ by all the gods, what was that? ❞   ❝ i was...restless. a quiet walk alone clears the head. ❞   ❝ when winter is past, summer will come and wind you in a flowered skirt, for you are beauty and shall not wither. ❞   ❝ ...unless you had a more interesting day planned for us? ❞   ❝ i do hope you see it now, for all you have done for me. ❞   ❝ your passion, your strength. i have never met such a burning soul. ❞   ❝ i have no guilt nor regret for what we have done, but we should be careful. ❞   ❝ i see before me a person full of passion, vigor, and a love for their people. ❞   ❝ if i wanted to hear you talk shit, i’d cut out your tongue and shove it up your ass. ❞   ❝ you! you look stronger than most of the others. ❞   ❝ your hatred for me burns bright. i could warm my balls on it. ❞   ❝ you’re quite like your arms: incredibly thick. ❞   ❝ i fought as i do, as hard as i do, to survive. (for i know what awaits us in the end. only darkness.) ❞   ❝ a shameful trick. you are your father’s child. ❞   ❝ you destroyed my life. i will take yours. ❞   ❝ you snore a little, like a wounded bear. ❞   ❝ that’s when i knew i would live and die for you. ❞   ❝ i’m going to pretend your last words were taken by the wind. ❞   ❝ i might still kill you yet, if your prattling doesn’t cease. ❞   ❝ you are weak like your father was weak. (you dance better than you fight.) ❞   ❝ have you ever seen muscles as massive as mine? ❞   ❝ i’m honored by your faith in me. and your confidence. ❞   ❝ after my missteps, i worry what you must think of me. ❞   ❝ with so much blood in the water and death in the air, i’d like to know your name and purpose. ❞ ❝ i have a good feeling about this place. ❞   ❝ you helped me reclaim what i had lost in myself. ❞       ❝ you speak of honor. where’s yours? ❞       ❝ you will throw away all reason to defend what you sworn to. ❞       ❝ you really are like a hero out of folk tales. ❞       ❝ how much would you sacrifice to be freed of fate’s shackles? (would you give your tongue, your hand, your sight?) ❞   ❝ there’s no power strong enough to do what you say. ❞       ❝ please, you must fight for me.    who knows what vile people might come to harm me? ❞   ❝ i have no need to count my kills. they number too many. ❞   ❝ i appreciate you for all of your qualities. ❞ ❝ not even the gods can change fate. ❞       ❝ i think it is time i take my leave. ❞ ❝ you really thought my life was in danger? (and you risked your own life...) ❞ ❝ the path ahead is bright, with glory at its end. ❞ ❝ it is easy to lose one's way on the road to glory. do not let false victories blind you to what is true. ❞ ❝ the act of leaving so beloved a home, there is a sadness to it. ❞       ❝ so there’s nowhere...you call home? ❞   ❝ all things end. ruins are not a warning, they are a testament. ❞   ❝ be nice to sleep in a real bed when this is over. ❞   ❝ in my sleep i dream. and in my dreams i see an end to the doom that will grip the earth once again. ❞   ❝ even when we win, we lose. ❞   ❝ i am as good with my lips, as i am with my tongue. ❞   ❝ is this your idea of a pleasant ride through the country? ❞   ❝ no whispering god brought me here. i brought myself. ❞   ❝ i would like very much to pass some time with you. ❞   ❝ ...and that’s how i got that scar. ❞   ❝ do i now haunt your dreams? ❞   ❝ it was never in their character to lead, it was always within yours. ❞   ❝ so easily wounded by words. imagine the ruin my axe would inflict on your flaccid ego. ❞   ❝ i have felt this way for some time now. i care for you. ❞   ❝ i have not felt safe since then. not really. ❞   ❝ how long have you been chasing me? seventeen winters? eighteen? ❞   ❝ you are not always to be trusted. your passions overcome you. ❞   ❝ i like you. you may help me here or step on me...and by the look of you i’d welcome either. ❞   ❝ it is good to have you in this fight. ❞   ❝ you need only know my impressive scale and flawless build. ❞   ❝ i am better than any man here. ❞   ❝ i can tell by looking at you, you are not a great warrior. (you know it too, there is no reason to deny this.) ❞   ❝ i am looking for honor, and have become lost as a result. ❞   ❝ many apologies. you are no child, simply a frail and fully-grown fool. ❞   ❝ i was stupid, selfish, reckless, blind, boneheaded, and i smell like blood and shit. ❞ ❝ anything to say for the mess you led us to? ❞   ❝ how was your...first kill? ❞   ❝ you squirm like that and my axe will miss your neck! unpleasant for both of us. ❞   ❝ i know you would defy me to the death, fighting for a glorious end.     that i will not allow. ❞   ❝ most men choose to be loud or stupid. impressive, that you managed both. ❞   ❝ you are a great warrior. conquerer of this land and that of your birth. ❞   ❝ you’re chasing shadows like a madman howling at the moon! ❞   ❝ quite a hit you took. how many were lost? ❞   ❝ well fought! even if your wits were somewhat rattled. ❞   ❝ we suffered no losses in this fight, and the men who humiliated us are dead. what is there to say? ❞   ❝ i would like to be close to you. ❞   ❝ if you are a warrior with honor running like sunlight in your veins, then you may help me fulfill my destiny. ❞ ❝ you are a long way from any warm hearth, warrior. Is this where you call home? ❞ ❝ am i to go the rest of my days without love or attention? i think not. ❞   ❝ the gods favor you. they always have. ❞   ❝ the others, they are like clubs. blunt and ungainly, you are nimble, like a knife. ❞   ❝ people with eyes that gleam like yours are always up to something more. ❞   ❝ only a fool stays awake all night worrying. you are tired when you get up, and the problem is still not solved. ❞   ❝ i liked you from the first. i saw something in you that captivated me. (as if a forgotten memory of an old friendship had suddenly resurfaced.) ❞   ❝ you've done nothing but give me your blind word! ❞   ❝ did you bring me any treasure? ❞ ❝ the woodsmoke from your firepit does sting the eyes. but the warmth is welcome. ❞ ❝ it is not something i can speak on. or wish to. ❞ ❝ i'm with you. only say the word. ❞ ❝ until we cut off this serpent's head, it will poison us, day by day, drop by drop. ❞ ❝ get some rest and return here at first light. ❞ ❝ i missed having you at my side. how i wished i could have taken you along on my travels. ❞ ❝ i do not like this, but i will not stop you. ❞ ❝ i have waited too many years for this day. when ___ stands before us, give me the final blow. ❞ ❝ why do you carry such a useless burden? let it go. ❞ ❝ i have waited years for this, but i will not risk losing it through rashness. ❞ ❝ i cannot fathom your game. you are either a young fool...or deceptively wise. ❞ ❝ your confidence blinds you to so much in plain sight. ❞   ❝ it’s good to be here, with you and your people. (i feel my life has found a new road.) ❞   ❝ there has always been war, even among the gods. ❞       ❝ my honor has been stained. until it's wiped clean, i want nothing else. ❞ ❝ i lack the patience for pole fishing. i would have better luck with my bow. ❞   ❝ if we tell all our stories, we’ll be here for a week. ❞ ❝ can you teach me the art of archery? ❞   ❝ bury the past. build the future. ❞       ❝ i missed you. your clear head and your courage. (we have not had enough of both in recent months.)   ❞   ❝ i have a good feeling this war is near its end. ❞ ❝ explain in plain words why you have willfully disobeyed my commands. (do you mock me?) ❞   ❝ the gods favor you. they always have. ❞   ❝ my love for you rises tall and strong, like the tree of life. ❞   ❝ the prize is some of my time. (a walk in nature, maybe more if that is where our conversation takes us.) ❞ ❝ together, we are unstoppable. ❞ ❝ it is natural to fear change. to resist it. (but all things change, and all things end.) ❞ ❝ you said nothing of this to me, not a word. ❞ ❝ so long as men and women fight to secure honor and freedom, their allegiance hardly matters to me. ❞ ❝ i care for you. i do not know how to say it any other way. ❞   ❝ love can burn brighter near death. ❞ ❝ i knew this would be difficult, but sometimes the weight bears down heavily. ❞ ❝ you are young and still foolish, so i will spare you your life. (but cross me again or harm anyone i cherish, and you will join your friends in hell.)   ❞ ❝ if you are as brave as you appear, you will come. ❞ ❝ this is not a natural quiet. it's as if a curse has befallen this place. ❞ ❝ there was a curse here long before i came along. ❞ ❝ we’ll forge a warrior from your softness, hammered on the anvil of war. ❞ ❝ you are different than the kind my flights of fancy attract. burdened, decorated and…delicate. ❞ ❝ i do not know what else to say. m-my memories are faint, hazy. ❞ ❝ how are you doing? you survived a serious blow. ❞   ❝ we’ll weave our sagas together, thread upon thread. ❞ ❝ i try to use my knowledge to help others. i am only a threat to those who fear the unknown. ❞   ❝ slap some moss on that gash and wrap it well. ❞   ❝ a knife to the back is a wound that never heals. ❞       ❝ with me you have wisdom! glory! power! what more do you need? ❞       ❝ if your hell is real, i’m glad you’ll get to see it. ❞   ❝ to fight beside such legends is an honor. (i've only heard tales of your conquests. now i get to live them.) ❞   ❝ i have tried to live well. it is enough that the gods know that. ❞ ❝ a cloud hangs over you. is something wrong? ❞   ❝ you have plunged my city into chaos. ❞   ❝ my sword is gore-greedy. i am ready to fight. ❞   ❝ accept your fate and die a coward, here before your people... and i will spare the rest. ❞   ❝ you would take the rescue for yourself, so the victory song is written about you? ❞   ❝ kneel, and i will spare your life. ❞   ❝ it has been some time. what brings you so far to see me? ❞

[nightowlfandom]

Billy Loomis and Stu Macher x Reader- 27 (Part 3/Finale)

Read Part 1 | Read Part 2 

CHECKOUT MY MASTERLIST HERE!

Alright you weenies, here’s the last part of 27....

I realized I’ve also made an error, I forgot that they already killed her other boyfriend, so let’s say the ex they killed in the previous chapter was a different ex.

leggo

...

Today was the day and you were excited.

Vengeance, the cherry on top, the final piece of this damned puzzle. You had snapped. You were completely bloodthirsty now and you WISHED someone would try to stop you. You had come a long way. A VERY long way. It was safe to say both Billy and Stu rubbed off on you a tremendous amount and you were absolutely fucking ready!

It didn’t help that you had two killers hyping you up to all hell. From Billy whispering how many hours were left in the day to Stu commenting about how hot he’d think it would be to have sex in a pool of blood.

When it came time to leave, the boys offered to walk you home.

“So who you gonna get first?” Billy held your hand as Stu stood your opposite side with an arm around your shoulder. 

“Definitely the old man.” you declared. “I want to watch the life leave his eyes. He’s the reason behind all this.”

“How so?” Stu asked.

“He’s convinced I’m not really his child, he’s been trying to get me out of that house since I turned 12...” the guys noticed your significant mood change. “Nevermind that.” you shook your head. “My mom can fuck off with the rest of them, her and her can-do-no-wrong, perfect home bullshit.” you seethed. “I’ll explain while everything’s going down.”

...

“I’m home...if anyone gives a shit.” you grumbled the last part. You walked in to see your mother and father along with Hannah’s mother and father. They were all sitting at the table. Hannah’s mom and dad were bawling their yes out while your parents comforted them.

“Y/N...I’m glad your here.” you father spoke up. “We were talking about funeral arrangements.”

“For the daughter you wish you had instead of me? Not interested.” you rolled your eyes. “If you need me, I’ll be doing homework. Parentals, friends. Friends parentals.” you shortly introduced Billy and Stu to your folks. 

“Nice to meet you.” Billy managed to express. Stu put on a fake smile and waved. 

“Keep your door open so we can hear you!”

“Why would I close the door? You guys would just kick it open anyways.” you grunted. 

You had no reason to be cordial with your family anymore, just because they wanted to put on a show for your guests, you’d give them a damn show.

“Y/N don’t talk to your mother like that.”

“Then I’ll talk to Hannah’s family.” you turned to the two mortified adults.

You could see Billy and Stu out of the corner of your eyes, both looking like they were about to burst out laughing.

“Y/N we have nothing against you.” Hannah’s mom wept. “We knew Hannah could be a bit much.”

“Hannah was much? Oh No Mrs. Doyle. Your husband screwing around with your teenage secretary was much.” you crossed your arms. “Your daughter was a fucking nightmare and I’m glad no one has to put up with her shit anymore.”

You wanted to see just how far you could take this before your parents exploded. 

“Y/N L/N!” Your father rose from his seat, ready to storm over.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Stu was first to stand in front of you. “Mr. L/N with all due respect, I’d advise you against that.”

“And just who do you think you are?” 

“The man whose about to be responsible for your funeral if you take another step.” Billy stood next to Stu, the both of them making a human wall, separating you from them. “Geez Y/N you weren’t kidding.”

“You should see our security camera footage.” you scoffed. 

“Well this has been a lovely chat but we really must be going.” Mrs. Doyle stood to her feet. 

“Oh nononono~” Billy sang with conviction. “Sit your asses down...let’s play a little game.” (I know Saw hadn’t been made yet, just go with it.)

...

Watching back the camera footage hurt a lot more than you thought it would. You couldn’t imagine how everyone else was feeling. Both of Hannah’s parents were tied up with blindfolds over their eyes. Stu had knocked out your dad and tied him to the table while Billy handled your mom, duct-taping her hands and wrists to a chair...

“Look at that. An innocent little girl...” Billy shook his head as he listed to your parents berate you to your face. You blocked everything out while you watched. How Hannah and her would smile in your face all the while being your biggest tormentors. How you couldn’t tell your mother or father because they never believed you the first ten times you tried. 

It was all crashing down on you now.

There was an eerie silence as your crying voice filled your own ears. You were used to crying yourself to sleep by that time. All of this happening a little before you met the boys.

“Y/N, whatever you have to tell us, we don’t have to involve them.” your mother sobbed.

“Mommy....you’re crying.” your voice broke as you opened your mouth to speak for the first time in a couple of hours. “But what about when I was crying?....What about when I was in the hospital scared for my life? What about when you guys were threatening to ship me across country....” much like you did with Hannah, you kicked the chair sending your mother falling back.

“And you.” you turned towards your dad. “I know you don’t believe I’m your biological daughter...and guess what...I hope I’m not either.” you growled, staring down at the now cowering man. “You are pathetic...both of you.” you turned back towards the TV screen. A video of you in your bedroom (since your parents didn’t believe in privacy) was playing. You were on the phone with your friend Kyla.

“No, no I know Ky.” you laughed. You had a much different laugh than you do now. “...I don’t know, it’s hard to trust cute faces like theirs.”

Your eyes widened as you listened to what you were saying. Before you could go to turn it off, Stu had taken you in a hug. “Oh no princess, don’t be rude...let the video play!”

“Do I like them?....Maybe...okay totally!” you watched yourself squeal as you threw the pillow you were hugging across the room. “Kyla I wish you were here to see them THEY ARE SO-” you covered your mouth to stop from shouting too loud. “They are so cute and so hot and they wanna be seen with me!...of all people! No I’m not gonna make a move on them.”

“Awww Y/N has a crushy wushy on us!” Stu gushed. “We love you too baby!” Stu abruptly kissed you, right there. You almost forgot Billy was standing there. 

“Woah...” you almost lost balance. 

“Young lady! How dare you-” You father tried to said.

“Oh shut up!” Stu took it upon himself to finish the job. 

(OKAY SHEILD YOUR EYES NOW)

Stu wrapped a hand around your dad’s neck and applied pressure, so much to the point where his face went blue within a mere 5 seconds. Stu laughed maniacally, only seeming to tighten his grip while Billy continued to antagonize your mother, laughing in her face while she watched the horror happen with her husband.

“Y/N...why?” your dad choked as he struggled.

“Why not...and while we’re here.” you shrugged. “I killed Hannah.”

“WHAT?”

You almost forgot Hannah’s parents were in the room, listening to everything go down.

“Oh yeah.” you shrugged. “Bitch had it coming...the better question is what should I do to you two.” you crossed your arms as you thought.

...(Time skip)

“Pretty isn’t it.” You gazed up at the stars. 

“Not as pretty as you.” Billy flirted, using his sleep to wipe your face. As you all sat on the front steps of your porch, ambulances and cop cars lined up the street for many blocked.

“I agree.” Stu wrapped an arm around you waist. “Be honest, how do you feel?”

“I feel free.” you replied, letting out a large sigh. The cops had just finished questioning you. Your story was clear. Your dad lunged at your mom first and Hannah’s parents saw too much...then he accidently tripped and hung himself. Perfect crime. Billy and Stu were walking by when they heard your cries for help and they hopped in.

As to how you three managed to escape unscathed, they got you out of there in time just as he was hanging himself. As for the tapes playing on the T.V...they were watching old videos to find something to ground you for. (Something they usually did anyways.)

“Good.”

“I just don’t know where I’m gonna live now. My aunt lives the next city over and that’s a long drive.”

“Hm...just gonna have to live with us now!” Stu shrugged, we’ll all be like a married couple!

“All...as in-”

“Yes, the three of us.” Billy grabbed your attention. “Lucky you, eh?” He pecked your lips when the officers wasn’t looking just as Stu planted a smooch on the back of your head.

“Young lady.” the officer walked up to you three. “You’re lucky to have escaped them, that psychopath stabbed your mother 27 times...who does that?!”

You paused before you gave your answer. “I guess he was just fed up, officer.” 

Stu tried hard to contain his laughter while Billy coughed into his hand, you all knowingly shared a look.

Yes...fed up indeed.

(So...I guess this slasher stuff might be a regular thing...I kinda like it)

[boldlyvoid]

ain't it fun? | part two

Part Two

summary: reader just needs an NA meeting before they have a meltdown, they end up with the best friend they could ever make.

warnings: falling in love, fluff, hurt/comfort, implied/referenced smut, non-descriptive

a/n: so glad you liked part 1 I couldn't help myself from continuing

word count: 3k

from the beginning

She’s laying in his bed, one of his friends showed up early and she’s pretending she’s not there. But his friend brought breakfast and it smells good and she’s starving.

After crewing the hell out of her lip and 5 minutes of hyping herself up; she gets up off the bed, still in her sweater and shorts from their movie night, and she slowly opens the bedroom door, peaking out to see if Spencer was in view.

“Hello?” A friendly man spots her, standing as he makes his way to shake her hand. “I’m Derek.”

“Y/N,” she smiles.

“Pleasure to meet you,” he smiles back. “What’s going on here?” He gestures to her and then back to Spencer as he exits the kitchen and sees her.

“We watched star trek all night, if you don’t believe me I can make him recount it to you from memory?” Y/N replies, smirking like she knows him just as well as his friend.

“And how might you know Spencer?” Derek teases right back.

“He’s my best friend in the whole world,” she replies like it’s nothing, “and I live across the hall.”

Derek shoots a look at Spencer that’s almost proud, almost emotional, like a mom who heard she’s going to be a grandma, “Is that true?”

Spencer blushes, “she’s my best friend.”

“Tell me how this all happened!” Derek is more than excited, sitting down on the couch with a wide grin as he waits to hear more.

“Um, we met in the hall, we have the same interests and now we watch movies together and have sleepovers with candy and popcorn, like we’re 13-year-old girls? I’ve even braided his hair,” she avoids the real reason why they met. Unsure if Spencer has told anyone about his drug problem or not.

“And now I’m going to go finish sleeping in my own bed,” she makes awkward finger guns at the door accompanied by her most awkward smile and she’s off.

Spencer follows her out into the hall, closing the door and looking at her apologetically; “I’m sorry, I won’t tell him anything more about us if you don’t want me to?”

“Us?” She questions? “You tell me you love me a lot, but you’ve never told me who you want me to be to you… I want you to think about that and then come and see me later.”

“Can I have a kiss? It helps me think better,” he whispers as he leans in.

She rolls her eyes, playfully, leaning in as well until their lips meet. It’s soft and sweet and she wishes there could be more, but for now she has to go.

Once she’s inside, she leans against the door of her apartment and listens to see when he goes back inside. Only what she hears is even better, “Derek, I’m going to have to ask you to leave so I can go ask her to be my girlfriend.”

He shoos the man from his apartment, avoiding all his questions and convincing him to finally leave by saying, “you’ve been telling me for months that I need to get over it, and now you’re going to stand here and stop me from telling her I love her, again?”

“Again?”

“Derek!”

“Fine.”

And then he’s knocking on her door, “who is it?” She teases.

“Y/N, open the door, please?” He begs without a single regret behind his tone.

She opens it slowly, “yes?”

He tilts his head with a look that screams; ‘come on?’

But she looks back at him as if to say; ‘what about it?'

“Are you really going to make me say it?”

“The first step in getting help is admitting you have a problem.”

He laughs at the absurdity, “you’re kidding?”

“Spencer, even though you’re a pain in my ass; would you like to be my boyfriend? I’m asking because the words make it real, and I would like you to really know how I feel, thanks for coming,” she extends her arm into the apartment, gesturing for him to walk in and he does so with a laugh.

“I would love to be your boyfriend,” he responds once the door is closed. “I’m sorry I made you feel like I didn’t want this to be real?”

She can tell he’s not sure why he’s apologizing, “I need confirmation. I can’t sleep in your bed almost every night for a month, and just have to guess if I’m allowed to call you my boyfriend when my mom calls and asks why I won't text her back at night.”

“Oh,” he looks upset. “I thought that by telling you that I love you that it would work, but I understand. I really would like to be your boyfriend and be yours for however long you’ll have me.”

Her heart melts in her chest, he's so nervous and shy because he truly means it. His heart is in her hands now, “how long are you available?”

“Forever.”

“I have more questions,” she whispers as she moves closer, pressing their bodies together as she holds his sides and he holds her shoulders.

“Okay.”

“What did you mean out there, and also sorry for listening, but I’d like to know…”

“It’s okay,” his words are soft. “I’m um, a virgin?”

“Oh?” Her eyes shoot wide open, “I was expecting like an ex who broke your heart?”

“Oh no, I’ve never… I don’t... no,” he shakes his head profusely. “I’m not in a rush either, I just wanted him to leave me alone. That’s not what I’m in here for.”

She smiles, “I am too…” she whispers, “I’m really glad you are too, actually.”

“You’ve thought about it?”

“Think, big brain, go back to right before I closed my door that first night…” she teases him before making a fake VHS tape rewind sound that always makes him laugh.

“You wanted to leave the group because you can’t sleep with members while you’re healing,” he smirks at his recollection, “I mean, other than the general attraction, have you thought about the possibility of that happening for us one day?”

She nods again, “one day, I’m cool just making out with you for now, actually. But yes. I would like for you to be my first because I trust you the most out of every single person I’ve ever met.”

He looks like his heart is exploding as his grip on her shoulders tightens, “I would like for you to be mine too, eventually.”

“Eventually,” she repeats with a small smile, leaning in for another small kiss.

“Derek left without his breakfast, and he didn't even get a chance to touch it yet…” Spencer whispers against her lips.

She laughs through her nose, kissing him once more before pulling away, “come on, boyfriend.”

—

She’s been in Quantico for 5 months, 3 of which she’s now spent with Spencer.

She’s laying beside him as they watch star trek and her mind is off in space. She can’t focus on anything other than the thought of her rent coming due and how she’s probably going to have to decide if she wants to leave after her 6-month lease is up.

“Spence,” she whispers, “do you know any other cheap apartment buildings in the area?”

“Why?”

She turns to face him, the yellows, reds and blues flash across the screen and illuminate him lightly, “I don’t have enough money to keep living here, and I don’t want to move back in with my parents.”

“Would you like to move in with me?” He asks carefully, “don’t feel pressured to say yes, it’s just I’m never really here and I don’t want you to leave.”

She smiles at the offer, “If I move in I have to tell the disability people, and then my disability money will change because you make so much and they still believe that men own women when they get together, like some what's yours is mine, shit.”

“Really?”

She nods, “yeah. They'll want to know how much you make every month when I get my statement and then they decide what I deserve because if you’re making money, clearly I’m taken care of, right?”

He can hear her sarcasm and he knows it's just to mask the hurt, and she can tell by the way his whole face changes.

“Wrong,” Spencer is oddly defensive. “That is so wrong, there are so many women in this country trapped with terrible men who abuse them. They never see a single dime of the money that comes in, and if they have children they are lucky to receive money for groceries. I’ve seen all of it first hand, it’s horrific, and yet they still think they can take care of disabled women who are in more need of money than anyone else?”

“I love you.”

“What?” He stops, breathing, blinking, everything. He just stares at her as he comprehends it.

She hasn’t said it back yet.

“I love you.” She repeats it and smiles, tears welling in her eyes as she appreciates how much he really does care; how much he really gets it.

“Lie, tell them you’re back with your parents. It’s not like they check-up and then just stay here. Move your things in and make this your place too, do whatever you want to it, it deserves to be lived in.”

“You’re really serious?” She’s not sure why she’s so surprised, he’s been saying he loves her every single day for the last 2 months and 3 weeks.

She’s loved him the whole time, but she’s afraid of that at the same time because once she loves him out loud, then she loves him for real and that’s scary. He has a scary job and he’s never home and if she loves him then she has to deal with that and the fact he might not come home one day.

He nods gently, “I know you need a lot of space for your art supplies so move whatever you need to to make room. I think you’re magnificent, and I don’t think that you should feel held back, I'll do anything to help you with your little craft store.”

A tear slips past her eye and towards the pillow, she blinks as she smiles, unable to speak as she just appreciates his kindness, “I think when whatever is out there made your soul, they were like 'this one; he’s special, we’re only making one of him and he’s going to go through some shit, but it’s because someone else is too and they need each other.'”

Spencer’s smile grows, large and toothy as he moves in closer to hold her. Noses pressed together, they’re hugging basically now, arms wrapped around each other and legs tangled as they enjoy the moment. It’s so nice, there’s nothing left to say.

They’re content with each other.

—

She moves what she needs into Spencer’s apartment the next week, he’s out of town and it’s easier this way with him out of the way.

It’s easier to miss him in here though, everything smells like him and feels like him, and his personality is on every single wall. She wants him to come home so badly, living without him for random bouts of time was the worst part of their relationship.

The rest of her things are in boxes in her apartment, waiting by the door for when Spencer comes back. He offered to put everything in his old Volvo Amazon and meet her parents for the weekend and her mother was through the roof over it.

She has called 4 times in the last week to ask about all Spencer’s favourite meals, what he likes for breakfast most mornings and if he had any allergies. She’s cleaned the “guest” room, which was really just where she slept before, and she was very clear that he was allowed to sleep with her as long as no funny business happened.

That was the funny part.

They still weren’t doing it and she was fine with that, so was he. Neither of them was ready, emotionally nor physically. They’ve both been through some terrible things that make it very hard for them to want to share yet.

She loves him more this way, while the sex would probably be amazing and she knew they were both getting off anyway and they weren’t secretive about it, at all. They just didn’t do it together yet… and she was starting to want to.

The most they’ve done is the occasional mutual masturbation session and that was just when they were too lazy to do it when they were alone, earlier in the day, and just needed to in order to finally sleep. It was always quick, quicker than when she would do it alone because he was just so cute like that.

She found herself getting off to thoughts of him more than anything else the longer and longer they shared more and got to know each other.

Because while, yes, they live together and they’re dating; they’re still really just best friends and roommates. They don’t see each other as often as they want to, they have separate friend groups, she has meetings on the other side of town now and they’ve never even been on a date.

For how fast they looked to be moving to anyone who knew them, they were going extremely slow behind the scenes. The reality is, they were following the rules of addiction recovery more than the rules of society.

She wasn’t really ready to take on the emotional commitment of having sex with someone when she wasn’t really over her trauma. It went far deeper than just her addiction, there was more Spencer had no idea about and she wanted to make sure he knew everything before he met her parents.

So like always, they got into bed as soon as he returned and they had a cuddle conversation. It was soothing to not only feel the other person close, but they both stimmed by running their hands over something soft. He knew something was up as soon as he walked in the door and she asked for a cuddle before even saying hello.

He didn’t, however, expect the long-winded backstory of her childhood to be the issue. He was silent the whole time she explained, he cried with her as his cheek rested on her forehead and her tears fell onto his shirt below her face.

Learning his past was just as hard.

She cant imagine how no one could love him, no one took him in and offered him shelter and love and warmth. He deserved kindness and family. He was worth the world and then some to her, and it hurt so deeply to think of no one showing that to him. He’s spent the last 25 years just searching aimlessly for a single iota of respect.

No wonder he fell in love with her so easily.

—

The first time is terribly awkward but incredibly euphoric… and they cry after. Not from sadness or regret; no, they’re so in love and so happy with their choices, it’s more of an overwhelming overflowing of emotions that was bound to erupt along with them.

“This has to be the most vulnerable time in the entire world if you really think about it,” Spencer justifies why he’s crying as he starts to get anxious about being too much. “I mean we’ve already seen each other naked and know each other outside… we might as well share what's going on inside too.”

She nods against his sweaty chest, “I used to be really upset that my doctors put me on Dilaudid. I still hate that all this happened to us, but I’m really glad we don’t have to be alone anymore.”

“Me too,” he whispers.

It gets easier the more they do it. It’s still always hilariously awkward, they were so stupidly in love it translated into every moment; like when they attempted shower sex and knocked the curtain down and got water everywhere. Or the time they attempted a quickie in the bar bathroom and his boss walked in, and they had to try not to laugh or move or do anything as they made the most awkward, silent, eye contact ever, in the corner of the stall.

Being horny and awkward was the worst combination but they made it work pretty well.

He was tender and loving and he listened to instructions well. He was a quick learner, he was happy with whatever she wanted and he always, always, tried to finish last. (He wasn’t that lucky) but he was a truly nice guy.

She loved him more and more as the seconds passed. He was just so wonderful, he had his up and downs but they always had great communication, and he understood her unpredictability from her disabilities. The best part was that he loved her regardless of how she was when she woke up in the morning, and she always went to bed with either a kiss or a text proving he loved her.

Before they knew it, a year had passed and she was laying in his bed while he got ready for work. She loved watching his selection process, his colour coordinated closet and handy-dandy tie organization rack. He was so cute, and he always looked so amazing.

“I don’t want you to go in today,” she whispers with a pout.

He takes his phone off the dresser and calls in then, “yeah, Hotch I’m really not doing well. I don’t know what we ate last night but I— yeah thank you.”

He puts everything back in the closet and crawls right back into bed, he snuggled back in close and she smiled at her job well done. He didn’t need to be at work as often as he was, he had a lot of personal and sick days stored and they were always telling him to use them. He deserved a break for that beautiful brain of his, an 8-hour turnaround between psychopaths wasn’t good for anyone, especially not the 2nd most prized possession of the FBI.

“What do you do during the day when I’m not here?” He asked, genuinely not knowing how she occupied her time outside of his presence.

“I sleep until 11,” she whispers as she snuggles in closer.

He’s warm and cuddly and perfect. Naps in the morning are possibly the best periods of sleep someone can ever experience. It’s so relaxing to reward the body with more time, and it’s even better when it includes the perfect snuggle companion.

Taglist:

@g0lden-cth @doctorspenceryeet @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reiding-recs @ssavanessa22 @spookyspence @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria@reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor

[stellocchia]

I really liked Wilbur's lore stream from yesterday, so you guys are getting a short stream analysis from me

As always dialogue is color-coded: Wilbur, Tubbo, Ranboo

And since I'm the least concise person ever everything is under the cut

The stream is (DSMP LORE) A Year Later

The stream starts with Wilbur singing the L'Manburg anthem to Ranboo. It is interesting to notice that, just like all the streams since he's been back he doesn't start off the stream by addressing chat in any way but already taking with someone in-universe.

"I'm a big big fan of the song (...) (Wilbur notices that Ranboo was muted) so sorry, let's try again: have you heard that song before?" "Yeah I have, I have. I have- I've had a friend that sings it quite a lot" “Good, good, and I was gonna say, it’s obviously based on Hallelujah right? But the thing is, the thing is Ranboo, right? But the thing is- the thing is Ranboo, right? Is that the reason we did it is because Tommy used to sing Hallelujah to the plants" "Oh, to the plants?" "Yeah! In- in the- around the- around the uhm... around the thing! You know the- the caravan? (...) so, my man, Tommy used to sing to the plants to make them grow better and that was the song he used to sing and so I thought what a way to honour Tommy, you know, one of the most- one of the most loyal members or of our fair nation than by naming the song after him, you know? And singing it based on his little- his little Muse. Tommy is a- Tommy is all of our Muse really I'd say"

I cut as much of this quote as I could while still leaving it well understandable and leaving in everything I wanted to talk about, but man is it long... So let's break it down a bit at a time:

1) The friend that Ranboo referenced that sings the anthem a lot is most likely Tubbo considering that they met him later on in this stream while he was singing that very song

2) The memory of the song seems to still be a particularly pleasant one for Wilbur, which probably explains why Ghostbur as well was so fond of it. He speaks about it positively throughout and it generally seems like an overall positive moment of reminiscence, probably because it's a callback to a simpler time when Wilbur too was, you know, happier overall. It's a reminder of a time before the worsening of his spiral.

3) Also interesting that they kept it in canon that Tommy singing to the plants was what inspired the anthem. Especially because I'm not entirely sure if that's the case considering that the actual anthem wasn't written by cc!Wilbur but by a fan upon his request (obviously this is outside the story).

4) Last thing I wanted to mention was Wilbur describing Tommy as a Muse. Muses in mythology are the inspirational goddesses of the arts, music, and science, Tommy aside from the anthem obviously isn't that. But it is interesting that Tommy does take a central role when it comes to motivating people. We could say that Techno's speech on the 16th was inspired by him since it was directed at him. Similarly, Niki and Jack had their arcs revolving around him. Tommy was able to rally the troops with ease multiple times. And Dream's obsession with him itself is the main motivator for, like, 90% of his actions. So, while he may not cover the role of a muse literally it's not a comparison that is too far off...

They headed to the museum afterward and took notice of the Ranboo poster being missing. And then they headed off to L'Manburg (which, by the way, looks amazing, thank you cc!Phil for that one).

"It goes by L'Manhole now apparently" "I- yeah it's kinda- ugh- I'm not a fan. It's kinda rude to L'Manburg's history, you know? It- it's called L'Manburg. It's called L'Manburg. NOT Manberg, not L'Crater or whatever. L'Manhole, I don't care, it's now L'Manburg, it's always L'Manburg, okay?"

It's interesting that not too long ago he was saying that even L'Manburg itself (with an emphasis on the name) wasn't what was actually important, the purpose of it was. He admits later on that he lied in that conversation, but it's impressive how quickly he trusted Ranboo enough to let him see how much he still cared about L'Manburg when he was so intent on lying about it not too long ago.

Wilbur's enthusiasm about seeing the flag is another nice confirmation about him still caring deeply for his old nation.

"Damn, I really went down to bedrock, didn't I? Holy shit I did- I did a number on this place" (I wonder why Ranboo didn't correct him on this, because Ranboo knows that Techno, Phil, and Dream are the ones who actually exploded the country down to bedrock...)

They end up seeing Tubbo on the other side of the crater and head over to him. While they're heading there Tubbo is singing the anthem himself in a very mournful tone.

One interesting thing that I noticed it's that it's Wilbur that heads towards Tubbo's location instead of having Tubbo go to him like he mostly did with Tommy for example. I suppose it could be because Tubbo having been a president himself is in less of a subordinate position to Wilbur than Tommy who's always been a simple soldier.

"It's like looking in a little mirror, look you're wearing my suit still? How long have you been wearing that?" "Oh I just put it on, just for today" (in a similar fashion to Jack bringing out the L'Manburg uniform to reminisce, Tubbo also brought out clothes he strongly attaches the memory of L'Manburg to)

"Ranboo have you met Tubbo?" "Yeah, yeah. I've- I've met him, I mean we've, uhm... we've been around" (Ranboo still minimizing his relationship with Tubbo to Wilbur. Of course, this is because he doesn't trust him but it's interesting that he isn't even honest about that)

After a bit of back and forth, Wilbur starts apologizing to Tubbo. At first, like most other times he's having a serious discussion he puts himself in an elevated position to tower over Tubbo. It's a neat way to show how his own desire for control affects him, having Wilbur literally elevate himself over others when speaking to them. Literally putting Tubbo down in this situation. Which does make the beginning of his apology very obviously feel insincere.

"I'm sorry for making you president specifically before blowing it up and I'm sorry for when I did this *pointing at the crater* and blew all this up and making this whole. I'm sorry that I uh- that I said that you were the president of a crater"

This is that first part of the apology I mentioned. Just to clarify, I don't actually think that it was entirely insincere. It just feels less impactful due to Wilbur putting himself in a position of superiority over Tubbo, especially because it's something we've seen him do before. It's also to be noted that this time, like others before, he seems to be apologizing less out of actual guilt and more out of a desire to earn forgiveness. Which is not a critique by the way. I just feel like that's a misconception Wilbur has, that apologies serve the purpose of confirming to him that he's doing a good job at changing more than to actually make amends for what he's done. The reason why I think that's the case for the beginning part of this apology as well it's because of how fast he went to ask tubbo if he forgave him, which did put a certain level of pressure on Tubbo in this situation.

"I mean it wasn't- this wasn't all you Wilbur" (thank you tubbo for finally dispelling some of those misunderstandings)

"Yeah so me and mainly Ghostbur honestly, like-" "Ghostbur" (some more of Wilbur not being too fond of Ghostbur)

"Right is he [Ghostbur] this obsidian crap then I take it and these- these fucking dumb lanterns up here" (a bit more)

To correct Wilbur's misconceptions Tubbo starts off asking if the other knew Dream, to which Wilbur responds with how much he appreciates Dream and how he's his hero, which makes Tubbo backtrack and blames most of Doomsday on Techno and Phil. Which, as we know, isn't actually accurate and I have a feeling that this misinformation will be harmful later on once Dream is out of prison (though I don't blame Tubbo for backtracking with how enthusiastic Wilbur is, that was the basic conflict-avoidant approach that Tubbo seems to prefer).

"They rained tnt for days" (if this is actually canon then Doomsday was even more of a tragedy than we previously saw it as. It was days filled with fighting and destruction. Then again, Tubbo has misremembered traumatizing events before)

"Techno and Phil, they hated the government. I mean it was partially my fault as well" "But you didn't blow it up" "No I didn't. I would never have wished or anything like this to happen" "So it was just Techno and Phil?" *long pause* "Y-yeees"

Two things to say here:

1) I appreciate someone in canon recognizing that it's not Tubbo's fault for what happened to L'Manburg and blaming the people who actually blew it up, similarly to how I appreciate Wilbur bringing up with Tommy that it was clearly Dream pulling the strings with his exile with Tubbo. It's nice having it stated plainly for people to hear

2) This is the misconception I mentioned. This is most certainly gonna backfire at some point.

After that Wilbur commends Tubbo quite a lot for rebuilding New L'Manburg (once again being dismissive towards Ghostbur) and is clearly enthusiastic about it, even going as far as to say that that mattered more to him than them building him a grave.

"I just, I feel lost without L'Manburg. All my core beliefs, everything died with it" "You feel lost without a nation..." "I have no purpose anymore" "I guess that's where anarchy fails" (I think this may be the first time someone admits it to someone else, even though that lack of purpose and feeling disoriented is very obviously a shared sentiment amongst the ex-citizens)

After that, it's when Wilbur invites Tubbo to join Paradise, the, supposedly burger van with a small house attached to it that wasn't supposed to become a nation. I have a feeling that the proposition coming right after that exchange may imply that Wilbur changed his mind on it. He does purposefully put himself again in an elevated position when making the proposition.

"Would you like to come join me in Paradise? Literally" "Hmmm, I'm not sure Wilbur. I'm not sure I trust you man, I need to- in order to follow someone I need to trust them" "Wait, wait but you- I thought you forgave me! I thought it was, you know it-" "Wilbur I forgive you because I like to hang on to the hope that people can change, but-"

This is what I mean when I say that Wilbur's apologies come with expectations for the person he's apologizing to. By asking Tubbo first if he forgave him when he originally apologized, he already made it harder for Tubbo to refute that. And now we learn that he expected trust to come along with forgiveness. He's not doing this maliciously of course, but he does seem to have some misconceptions on this.

"I know you had that- that at the festival? With Technoblade? I never spoke to you properly about this. I- I could have saved you" "But you didn't" (other people brought this up, but this is a neat little parallel to the one scene in exile where Ranboo was lamenting about how he should have gone with Tommy and Tommy shut him down pointing out that anyone could have gone but no one actually did)

There is a second round of apologies and Wilbur is still standing higher than Tubbo, BUT he does put himself on his same level after he did a bit more pushing and found that Tubbo was standing his ground. He finally puts himself on the same level as Tubbo and openly acknowledges his boundaries which is the first actual real effort to change that we've seen from Wilbur. Which I'd say is a pretty important step for him.

"Wilbur in order for you to gain my trust back you have to prove it, I can't just give it out anymore. I used to be able to but I just- I just can't" (acknowledgement of how Tubbo's trauma also affected him deeply)

"You know I still have dreams, right? Of the explosion. And- and of the fireworks. And- and all of it. I- I still- I vividly see all of it. Every day. It hurts. It hurts a lot Wilbur"

I want to commend Tubbo here for being able to open up like this, especially considering how much he generally leans into denial and how much he usually suppress. And on top of that this is Tubbo acknowledging that both Wilbur's actions (the explosion) and Techno's actions (the fireworks) have hurt him and STILL hurt him and affect him deeply. It's quite a big admission especially for him.

"Sorry feels like such a weak word. I feel like there's nothing stronger that I can say" (first time that he's standing on the same level of Tubbo while apologizing)

"You're so strong man. Genuinely. You just- just the fact that you proved to me just there that you have this memories, that you have this nightmares and you still find it in your heart to forgive me. That's... you're a fucking champion man. You- you're a hero"

It's interesting that the reason why he claims Tubbo to be strong here is because he forgave him. It's not something that's inherently about Tubbo, like the fact that he still found the strength to go on and rebuild after the events he mentioned, for example, no. What Wilbur brought up is the one thing that Tubbo did for him. Which tells me that he still clearly has a bit of way to go to learn how to make amends and how redemption actually works, but, you know, that's to be expected honestly.

Wilbur moves on by inviting Tubbo to at least come and see Paradise, just to see what they'd made and Tubbo refuses because he wanted to spend more time reminiscing. Wilbur this time respect Tubbo's boundaries with no pushing which is yet another step forward for him honestly. Wilbur also gives Tubbo a "lucky rabbit's foot" that Tommy gave him to cheer him up and assure him that he had no problems with him not going.

With this their conversation comes to a close and Wilbur and Ranboo head over to Paradise (though not before Ranboo has confirmed with Tubbo that he actually does want to be left alone).

"You know I was gonna say 'this is hard' but obviously it's hard. I mean, you know, I've..." (a bit of reflection on his actions for Wilbur, you love to see it!)

"It's gonna get better! It's gonna get better! And it's gonna be worth it when I see them smiling. All of them. Tubbo, Jack, Niki, Tommy, anyone!" (I'm pretty sure that this is a genuine sentiment right here. It really does seem that wilbur's Big Plan right now is just to make amends and change)

"Do you know who the original L'Manburg group were? Do you know who we were?" "I- I think most of them yeah... I think it was like: you, Jack, Niki, Fundy I believe as well" "Fundy was a bit after. Fundy was after we'd gotten independence"

I wonder if that's an actual misrememberance on Wilbur's part (c!Wilbur, not cc!Wilbur, I'm sure cc!Wilbur remembers this) or just him wanting to put some distance between his good memories of L'Manburg and Fundy. Because Jack and Niki weren't there for the independence war either and yet he singled out Fundy who was. And I doubt that he'd forget about his son being one of the people who lost their first life in the final control room. In addition to that Wilbur didn't mention Fundy before among those he wanted to make smile.

I really think that this was intentional and that it was because, well, Wilbur felt deeply betrayed by Fundy. And we as the audience know that Fundy only ever publicly stopped acknowledging him as his father to be able to stay undercover as a spy, but he doesn't. It wouldn't be so weird that he wanted to erase Fundy from his memories of the time when he was supposed to be happy.

"I try and keep this on the low because I don't want uh- I don't want people to use it against me is the main problem. I do wa- I didn't even tell Tommy, I lied to Tommy" "Yeah?" "I'll be honest I'm gonna tell him soon that I lied to him because if it- it kinda eats away at me. But I told- I told tommy that I didn't actually care about L'Manburg and that it was just like a tool for me to use to gain, you know, power and stuff, but it's not- it's not true. L'Manburg is- was really important to me. And it is still to this day"

Once again I'm surprised how little it took Wilbur to trust Ranboo with stuff he hasn't really told anyone else. Makes you really understand how low of an opinion of himself he has that when the first person that calls him "alright" out loud just gets his undying trust. Especially considering that Ranboo doesn't trust him back and hasn't been the most honset with him so far. It's also a nice spelled out admission for anyone who didn't get how much Wilbur cares about L'Manburg from the longing look he gave to the camaravan's replica in the stream where he said he never cared.

"I wanted history to live on, not as a stain caused by me, you know. I basically took a big shit on the history books it feels like" (just another interesting little insight on Wilbur's view of the situation)

"I've heard about what's Tommy's, you know, moved on... and how jack's moved on, and how Niki's moved on and everyone's moved on from L'Manburg at least partially, but Tubbo man, he's still..." (he only thinks the rest of them moved on because he hasn't spoken almost at all with two of them and he never really listened to Tommy. Also, again, Fundy is not mentioned)

"I don't know where I'd be without you [Ranboo] here right now man, I mean T-Tommy's great and all and he's here but I- I feel like, you know, I don't wanna- I don't wanna string him along too much because he's- I- when I look at him. When I look at him when he's helping me out building things with me I see the same eyes that looked at me when... when... There were some- there weren't some fun times in the ravine of Pogtopia. I wasn't a very well man and I can just see Tommy from that day"

This one was one heck of a confession!

I don't know if this is me misremembering, but I'm fairly sure that this is the first time he's admitted to not being great to Tommy specifically. Again, Tommy is the one person he met with so far that he hasn't apologized to. Heck! He told Tommy to his face that him being sorry for his actions didn't mean he wouldn't do them again. It's a pretty damn big admission to acknowledge that that behaviour (which is the same now, if not worse when only related to Tommy) wasn't good. It also shows that he's at least a bit aware of Tommy's emotions which is rarely shown honestly. Though whether he cares because of Tommy or because being around Tommy makes him feel guilty (which is what you'd expect him to feel) and he doesn't like that is to be determined still, mostly just because the phrasing was a bit uncertain at the moment.

"I know what it's like to have no one- or at least feel like no one trusts you. Uhm, and I- I've realized that if- if no one's with you then how can anyone really know when you've redeemed yourself? So that's why I'm here I guess" (Ranboo's answer to why he trusts Wilbur. Which he doesn't, but still)

And the stream ends with Wilbur saying he hopes Tubbo comes around to try out one of the burgers (though he does repeat that he doesn't want Ranboo to pressure him to join) and complimenting Ranboo a bit more.

[hartigays]

Rafebarry Prompt for you! So what about some of Barry’s pals being over at the trailer and they’re all just like “Damn Bro” at seeing Rafe (who’s just living his best chaotic life, being Barry’s housewife/partner in crime) and Barry’s just all smug about it like “Yeah. I’m hittin’ that. Be jealous.”

tw: mature themes (drug use, sexual implications) and some homophobic language (just a comment from some loser tho)

rafe’s bike tears through swampy grass and dirt with a vengeance as he pulls into barry’s front yard, leaving tire marks in his wake.

when he pulls off his helmet, the first thing he sees are people spilling in and out of the trailer. people rafe doesn’t recognize - some of them attractive, even.

which is… infuriating, to put it lightly.

barry clearly hadn’t felt the need to keep rafe in the loop, inviting him over without informing him that half of the cut would be in attendance as well.

like, seriously, what the fuck? rafe had thought - well. he’d intended to come here to pick up some blow, and maybe, possibly, perhaps let barry have his way with him while he’s at it.

barry can’t have his way with him if half the population of north carolina is stacked up inside the trailer. and that’s just. frustrating.

rafe kind of wants to drive his bike straight through the trailer, mowing some partygoers down and end this whole shebang right here and now. but, as barry has made explicitly clear time and time again, rafe is Not Allowed to harm and/or kill people on his property.

it’s sometimes irritating, this whole thing they’ve started. this casual fling that’s maybe not-so-casual anymore considering rafe agreed to be exclusive with barry not even two days ago.

there are just. so many rules, like no maiming, or killing, or… actually, that’s about it. but that’s two rules too many. rafe doesn’t like rules, or being told what he can or can’t do.

barry is just lucky rafe likes him. kind of. sort of. somewhat.

otherwise, barry would be drifting along the bottom of the ocean somewhere, flesh being nibbled away at by fish and sharks and the like.

rafe flings his helmet towards his bike, not bothering to see if it landed anywhere convenient, before storming across the yard and shoving himself through a cluster of people to get inside the trailer.

barry is sitting on the couch, all sorts of people surrounding him, looking like he’s already fucked up beyond belief.

which is also annoying, because he was supposed to get fucked up beyond belief with rafe, then mandhandle rafe into bed to have his wicked way with him. like always.

“ayy, country club!” barry practically shouts over the noice, his accent even thicker and more drawn out than usual. “you made it!”

“yeah, barry, i made it,” rafe snaps, then sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

look, he’s not against parties or anything. actually, he’s quite in favor of them. he just… did not plan for his day to go like this.

rafe wanted barry’s full attention, which is now virtually impossible given the amount of bodies that are currently filling the room.

barry just looks at rafe with glazed eyes, leaning back casually against the couch cushions. “aw, don’t you go pouting on me ‘n shit, rafe cameron. ain’t you always down for a party or some shit like that?”

“a little heads up would’ve been nice,” rafe tells him, his temper rearing it’s ugly head again and bleeding into his voice. “look, can i just get my shit so i can get out of here?”

rafe moves around the coffee table, elbowing a few drunk idiots out of his way as he does. barry eyes him as he comes closer, before suddenly swinging one arm out and wrapping it around rafe’s waist. he ropes rafe in close enough that rafe stumbles a bit over barry’s feet, sprawling right into his lap.

“see, ain’t that more like it, country club?” barry purrs, his lips pressed against rafe’s ear.

rafe feels a shiver rocket down his spine, but also a flare of anxiety.

barry is certainly fucked up beyond comprehension, and they haven’t exactly talked about making their relationship public. rafe has no idea if this is something barry will regret in the morning and end up cutting rafe off.

but to be fair, if barry did wake up and decide to tell rafe to fuck off, rafe would probably just kill him. he might just kill him anyway, just because he feels like it.

and since barry’s inevitable death is hurtling towards them at breakneck speed, rafe might as well enjoy barry’s final moments while he can.

so he lets barry kiss him, full on the mouth, on display for the hundred or so other people milling about the room.

rafe, regrettably, makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat when he feels barry’s tongue dip into his mouth, sweeping across his own.

regrettably, because some fucking weird ass next to barry leans in close to watch. rafe can see the movement out of the corner of his eye.

but barry isn’t deterred. he might be a little encouraged, even, because he deepens the kiss even more, pressing in so close that rafe feels like they could crawl inside of each other and form one cohesive nightmare of a person.

“ain’t peg you for a fag, barry,” the guy comments, his words slurring. he burps after he speaks, and barry detaches his lips from rafe to look over at the source of the noise.

“the fuck you just say to me?” barry snaps, digging his fingers into rafe’s hips to keep him in place when rafe moves to get up, ready to just slit this guy’s throat and be done with it. “ain’t you in my damn house, fuckass? who the fuck you think you’re talkin’ to?”

“hey, man, didn’t mean no offense,” the guy says, raising his hands in mock surrender before burping again. “jus’ askin’.”

“getcho’ dumbass out my house, bro,” barry tells him, removing one hand from rafe’s hips for only a moment, just to shove the guy out of his seat.

the still nameless man just shrugs, gulping down the remnants of his beer before getting up and disappearing into the crowd.

“i think you guys are cute,” a girl giggles from where she’s seated, across from the couch rafe and barry are currently planted on.

barry looks up at rafe, and it’s almost fond and god, that’s disgusting. rafe wants to soak himself in it, let it marinate until it’s deeply ingrained in every fiber of his being.

“sho’ are,” barry agrees with her, still looking up at rafe. he’s got one hand beneath rafe’s shirt now, nails raking over his back.

rafe shudders, wishing he could dissolve every person in this room right this very moment so he can curl up inside barry and make a home there.

“gotta say, ‘m a little jealous, man,” some other guy pipes up from barry’s other side.

rafe looks over at him, one brow arched, finding the guy staring right back as he hits some sort of pipe.

probably filled with meth, based on the state of the guy’s teeth.

classy.

“guess you just gon’ have to be jealous, then,” barry tosses back, not bothering to spare the guy a glance before returning his mouth to rafe’s.

the party comes and goes, faster than rafe anticipated, but that maybe can be attributed to the fact that barry keeps rafe glued to him at all times, practically devouring him every chance he can get, and showing him off to every person who happens to look their way.

rafe will admit, it’s a little satisfying, knowing how proud barry is to have staked his claim. he’s surprised that he’s so okay with barry being so possessive of him, too.

rafe cameron normally does not like the idea of being owned by anyone or anything. at least, he hadn’t up until now.

at this point, he’s pretty sure he’d let barry put a dog collar on him that reads property of barry the coke dealer, without complaint.

now, lounging in barry’s bed, sweat-soaked and panting, rafe sparks a blunt. he takes a long hit and passes it to barry.

“you did this on purpose,” rafe says, knowingly.

barry just grins up at the ceiling like a shark, shrugging as he hits the blunt.

“you’re pretty, rafe cameron. and you’re mine,” barry tells him, passing the weed back. “what’s it hurt to show off a little? you ain’t die or nothing.”

“never said it was a bad thing,” rafe snorts. “just maybe give me a little warning next time you plan to parade me around as your trophy wife.”

“like you ain’t get off on all them people talking ‘bout how jealous they are that i get to have you.”

barry has a point, rafe will admit. not out loud, mind you, but still. in the quiet of his mind, where no one else can hear, he agrees with barry wholeheartedly.

“can you blame them? i mean, look at me,” rafe says with a snooty little sniff, running a hand along his jaw. “you landed yourself a masterpiece. people are gonna notice.”

“you so damn full of yourself, country club,” barry snorts. “imma have to knock that ego down a peg. i been too nice to you.”

“says the guy whose ego grew ten times larger just by being a show-off about his boyfriend.”

barry rolls over onto his side, watching rafe hit the blunt with heavily-lidded eyes. “boyfriend, huh? ain’t we a bit old for that?”

“you literally called me your boyfriend like, fifty times today. do not even- ”

barry shuts him up mid-sentence by taking the blunt from rafe’s hand and putting it out on the ashtray next to the bed, tangling his fingers in rafe’s hair, and pulling him in for a kiss that’s all tongues and teeth.

rafe wanted to finish his sentence, had planned on finishing it, but barry doesn’t give him the chance. not with the way he’s kissing him right now.

within a matter of moments, rafe forgets what he was planning to say in the first place. but whatever, he’s fucking tired, barry feels good and smells good and tastes good. so what if he’s a trophy wife, so what if he may or may not get off on people being jealous that barry gets to date him. to own him.

it’s all arbitrary.

instead of figuring out what he was going to say, rafe breaks away from barry’s lips, fastening his mouth to barry’s neck and biting down.

his teeth sink in deep, and he hopes with everything he has left in him that it leaves a scar.

[thickenmyblood]

hey maca :)) I have sth that I’d love to hear your input on! (wall of text incoming so beware- I’m absolutely not mad if you don’t want to answer lmao). Basically it’s about how you portray women in your works and to what extent you see that portrayal mirrored in the canon books. I have noticed that a lot of writers tend to go a traditional route with for example daughters not being heirs like you also mentioned in an answer for a wtsioa ask on here. Considering the cultures Vere and Akielos are based on that’s obviously very logical and a lot of authors (including you) make it work fantastically! Yet personally I never got the vibe of Vere and Akielos being as patriarchal in canon, mostly because the Information we get is kind of confusing. On one hand damen is a walking manosphere (and. all of Akielos in general as well) without any prominent female figures in his life but on the other hand damen only ever speaks appreciatively of for example the female vaskian warriors. Both countries seem to ban women from the army yet Damen also refers to a warrior queen. The regent is a total misogynist but with the wording Laurent uses it almost seems like that is more the exception and not the general rule of veretian court life. Both countries also have ties to Vask, an exclusive matriarchy and Akielos is said to be similar to Patras which Pacat has stated is also partly a strong matriarchy due to vaskian occupations in the past. I could go on for a lot longer but I guess that damens overall positive attitude towards women and especially stereotypically spoken masculine women is what sticks out the most to me. It just seems kind of misplaced in a world that supposedly is as sexist as the original cultures from our world. Which is why I’d say both countries do have gender roles but are overall a lot more egalitarian than their respective real world og cultures. But that’s only my take and I’d love to hear more on what others think about the portrayal of women in canon and how they chose to portray it in fanfiction. Love you and your new work, hope you’re doing well❤️

HELLO!!! Thank you for asking me interesting stuff :, ) you always have the best questions and my sad little inbox is open to you any time, friend. I divided this into parts, so:

My portrayal of women: I need to work on this a lot lmao. I’m not proud of any female character I have ever written for this fandom, and I’m also not proud to say I struggle horribly when it comes to writing female OCs, especially if the story is not about a female character that is a literal projection of me. Or Bella Swan (yes, Twilight literally shaped my sad little brain and the way I write and consume fiction).

Authors writing female characters in a “traditional” way (for fantasy settings): I can’t speak for other authors but I definitely think, in my case, that using the “it’s a patriarchal society, women have no rights, women can’t be heirs, etc.” blueprint is a matter of being lazy. It’s quick, and easy, and it’s been done before so we all know how it works and a) it’s unlikely that you’ll mess it up (in the plot hole kind of way) and b) it’s obvious that most readers know how the usual system works and so you don’t have to spend paragraphs or even chapters explaining it to them. I am very lazy when it comes to world-building for fics. Why? Because when I’m writing fanfiction I don’t give two shits about the world, I just care about the characters doing Things and having Feelings. The moment you start to question these issues (a society where women can join the army, where they can be heirs, where maybe they can have multiple husbands, etc.) a billion issues arise because it’s not the “usual way” and so you’ll have to deal with “unusual problems”. See: plot holes, info-dumping, etc.

Vere and Akielos in canon: I think the books get very, very confusing at times when it comes to gender roles in that specific world. They also get very confusing about how royalty works, in my opinion. So:

Damen never mentions female influences in his life, not even nannies or wetnurses or anything. He mentions past queens and his mother, but even then… It’s always struck me as “what the actual fuck” that we get no information on Egeria. In TSP, he doesn’t even read as curious to me, especially when I think of that line that goes something like “oh, well, he’d never asked how tall she was”.

Then you have Jokaste, who is highborn and also… perhaps trained in politics? It’s unclear to me if she’s ever been directly involved in meetings or been an active member of the Council or even been allowed to study these issues. Clearly, she’s smart and capable and cunning, but like… how? Did she have private tutors? Is she a self-made woman? Like, what’s up with that? Are women allowed to engage in public politics? Are they allowed to be kyroi?

IMO, Damen complimenting the female warriors in Vask has to do with how appreciative he is of war-related stuff. Like, he thinks people with his own qualities are neat. We see this time and time again in the books—having honor, being brave, respecting one’s family, protecting those who need protecting… He compliments these things when he sees them in others, especially in Laurent. Obviously one of the big changes in Damen as a character is that he goes from being daddy’s boy to being like “well, actually… maybe war isn’t always the answer, and maybe war isn’t always honorable”. The Vaskian warriors prove themselves worthy of praise in a “manly” way, if that makes sense. (In the same way, Laurent proves himself in the Okton, not so much to Damen but to other Akielons). So, in essence, War > Any issues he may have about women doing Stuff.

Don’t judge me for this but I can’t remember the Regent talking about women. Do you have any quotes about that? I feel like Book 1 is super rich when it comes to world-building stuff and yet it’s the book I remember the least. I know he obviously has a preference for boys and not girls, but I don’t recall him having interactions with Vannes or ladies at court? I’M SORRY I’M SO STUPID but I don’t own the book so I can’t exactly word search my way out of this one, and so instead of saying stupid stuff, I’m asking anyone reading this (lol, you and my mom probably) to please tell me what canon says on this issue.

Ties to Vask: Er, yeah, I mean… They’re clearly not at war with Vask and have some sort of economic deal (there are Vaskian pets in Arles? Which makes me wonder if they, like, buy them from Vask? Or if the pets are Vaskian and turn into pets in Vere? Slaves are not like pets so I don’t know?), BUT just because they have deals with this kingdom/are on good terms with the ruler does not mean they necessarily approve? Like, maybe they’re like “yeah, it’s weird they give women so much power, but also I need that silk/leather/WHATEVER, so I’ll shut up about that”.

“Akielos is said to be similar to Patras which Pacat has stated is also partly a strong matriarchy due to Vaskian occupations in the past.” Is this in the books or is this something she said in an interview/post-releasing the trilogy? I know in the books there’s a quote that Akielos and Patras are similar because they both have slaves, but other than that I can’t quite remember anything about Patras? Like, I don’t recall Pacat giving us extensive and thorough world-building on either nation, at all. Once again, I am asking you for more explanations on this because I literally don’t remember.

4. My opinion and a Stupidity Disclaimer: As I’ve said above, there’s a lot of stuff I don’t remember and so I’m not trying to preach to anyone reading this or even saying that I hold the truth about… anything. I’m answering questions as I see fit and asking more questions when I run out of answers.

I believe world-building is not one of Captive Prince’s strong points. I will not elaborate on this because this is already long enough but there is simply, in my opinion, not enough material to reach any solid conclusions when it comes to world-building questions such as the role of women in Vere and Akielos, how compulsory homosexuality affects the development of highborn men and women in Vere, exactly what makes Akielos’ view on women different from Vere’s (if there’s any difference at all), the history of gender roles in this world and how it’s evolved up until canon, how Lamen can solve the heir issue without recurring to, once again, “the usual stuff” (concubines, bastards, marriage to women, etc.). It’s clear from what I’ve read that Pacat has come a long way as a writer and that her new trilogy has a lot more in-depth explanations to world-building questions, but this is not the case with CP, and so I’m afraid my answer to most of this is “I don’t know, and I don’t think anyone can know for sure”.

Lastly, I think I struggle a lot with understanding the role of women in this universe because I simply did not see enough women doing stuff, so I don’t know what’s permitted, what’s unacceptable, what’s illegal, what is straight-up execution worthy, etc. This is not me complaining about the lack of female characters in CP, at all, which I know is contradictory to stuff I’ve said in the past (I answered a couple asks a year ago about how I’d wished we’d gotten Vannes’ POV or Jokaste’s POV in the short stories). I’ve changed my mind, and so I think Pacat is entitled to write whatever she wants, just like I’m entitled to talk shit about KR with any living soul who will listen lmao.

To end this on a spicy note, I think sometimes we consume the wrong media and then complain because it doesn’t have what we wanted. If you’re looking for a trilogy with strong, fleshed-out female characters, Captive Prince is not for you. If you’re looking for a trilogy on female struggles and, I don’t know, defying… the male gaze… Captive Prince is not for you. There are plenty of books out there that focus exclusively on female characters, featuring sapphic relationships, and dealing with gender issues. WHICH IS NOT TO SAY WE SHOULDN’T BE HAVING THESE DISCUSSIONS. This is not about this particular question, but more about a lot of posts I’ve seen floating around… complaining about Pacat’s writing and the themes she didn’t explore.

If anyone has made it this far, thank you for reading, and know this is NOT me telling you what to think. This post is an open question that anyone can engage with, although I hope people will engage with this directly and on this platform, instead of… taking it somewhere else where I sadly can’t engage back! Unlike what happened with our awesome fat Laurent discussion, I will be replying to any questions I get on this (Note: I did not reply to most of those questions because a long time had passed and they were sort of repetitive).