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foilfreak · 4 years ago

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BEAUTY AND HER BEAST: Chapter 9 (temporary 1-2 week hiatus being taken from his fic, click ao3 link and read end notes to find out why. I WILL BE COMING BACK!!!)

WARNING PLZ READ BEFORE CONTINUING: This fic is rated NSFW and contains graphic depictions of things some people may find disturbing or alarming, including, but not limited to: violence, gore, unhealthy family relationships, Oedipus complexes, gratuitous amount of pornographic literature, ableist language, physical, mental, and emotional abuse, etc. If you are someone who does not enjoy fiction with these elements in them, then I suggest you refrain from reading this, because this fic will have all that, and probably a lot more. So, this is your first and final warning to turn around and go somewhere else if stuff like this just isn't your vibe, because from this point forward, your emotional wellbeing is in your own hands, and I will not be accepting blame if you disregarded my warnings and ended up reading something you didn't like. Idk why I feel compelled to write one of these despite this being Resident Evil fanfic, but I figured I'd cover my ass just in case.

(AO3 link below)

Despite the shrill echo of Nadine’s terrified voice being something Salvatore has prepared himself for since before the young woman even arrived in the reservoir, the real thing was still somehow 100 times worse than he could have ever imagined it being.

Chaos followed as Salvatore frantically left his hiding spot, crawling across the floor as quickly as his mangled body would allow, as a loud crashing sound vibrates the whole room once Nadine’s body finally lands, quite uncomfortably I might add, on the hardwood of the floor. The sudden frantic and terrified swinging of her arms following Salvatore’s verbal slip knocked the poor woman off balance, sending her right back down to the floor for a second time.

Staring at the writhing figure of Nadine from the other corner across the room, Salvatore sniffles pitifully to himself as tears cascade down his face. Oh how appropriately cruel, that the universe wouldn’t even give Salvatore the decency of a proper meeting with Nadine, much less a chance at friendship and even less at anything past that. It makes perfect sense that this would be the way Nadine found out how disgusting and pathetic he is. Sitting alone in a dark and dingy room, watching old romance films because he has no one of his own to hold and love like the men in the movies do, and eating entire blocks of cheese all on his own, because nothing pairs with unending loneliness like the tang of sharp cheddar and the horrible stomach ache that follows it.

Putting his hands up to cover his face, a final effort to hide himself away from the beautiful woman’s gaze, Salvatore merely sat in his new corner, his shoulders shaking with sobs of agony and his body trembling in fear as Nadine’s gaze finally locked on to him, and him alone this time, in the dark silence of the room.

“H-Hey… are you alright? I’m sorry I yelled like that, I didn’t mean to startle you like that, but you suddenly spoke up out of nowhere and it scared me half to death” The soft voice from across the room asks, causing Salvatore to pause in his moment of self-loathing. Did… did she just ask him if he was alright? Wasn’t he the one who was supposed to ask her that?

“W-what…?” Salvatore chokes out, peering out slightly from behind the cover of his hood in confusion. The sight he’s met with is one that steals his breath away, much like the first time he laid eyes upon the stunning beauty this tiny woman held. However, unlike their “first” meeting, that took place back in Mother Miranda’s lab, this time there was no metal pod separating the two, Salvatore realized, as the sight of Nadine, slouched tiredly on the ground barely a few feet away from where he cowered in the corner, registered in the mutant man’s mind.

Next, of course, came her actual appearance. Black strands tousled messily across her forehead framed her round face and golden eyes perfectly. Her long white dress bunched up around her upper thighs, revealing the curves of her large, but muscular legs, that had previously been obscured by the material of her dress. Slouched shoulders and heavy breathing caused the material of Nadine’s nightgown to slowly inched its way down the front of her chest, not exposing her necessarily, but definitely revealing more and more of her lusciously plump breasts with every harsh up and down of her shoulders.

Tears continued to fall from Salvatore’s eyes even as saliva began to fill his mouth and his fear and self-loathing slowly gave way to the growing fire beginning to kindle in the pit of his stomach. The sound of his muffled sobs of anguish and arousal escaping from behind his hands causes Nadine’s face to immediately fall, agony replacing the previously wild look her face held.

“N… N-no. No no, please don’t cry. It’s alright. I-I-I’m not going to hurt you… I mean it… see… I don’t have any weapons on me” Nadine says hurriedly, standing up and doing a spin to show that nothing that could pose potential harm to Salvatore was hiding between the folds or frills of the thin garment. “See! Nothing to hide.”

Salvatore merely closed his tear soaked eyes and shook his head, the motion moving his whole body along with it. “Nooooooooooo… y-you d-don’t… under-s-stand…”

“What do you mean? What don’t I understand?” Nadine asked, kneeling back down to the ground, moving slightly closer to Salvatore than she was before, a terrifyingly genuine look of concern and worry etched into her beautiful features.

The mutant man fought back a wave of nausea and choked on a sob at the angelic sight. Hoards of hormones equating to despair and arousal battle within the hellish confines of Salvatore’s brain. The mutant man was filled with so many mixed emotions that he genuinely couldn’t tell if he wanted to tear himself apart until not a scrap of evidence of his existence remained, or if he wanted to just spring forward and consume the delectably dangerous morsel that sat so prettily before him, like an octopus latching itself upon the almighty great white shark as it just passes above their home, pulling the now helpless and unsuspecting predator down into the depths of a true monster’s domain.

“Hey, come on now. It sounds like you’re having a hard time breathing. Why don’t you come out of the corner where the air’s a little fresher, ya?” The young woman coaxes gently, moving ever so slightly closer to Salvatore as she speaks. The movement does not go unnoticed by the hooded man, nor does the way it pushes her dress even further up her already decently exposed thighs, but with little ability to stop Nadine’s incremental advances, Salvatore merely buries his face into his hands, blocking as much of his disgustingly bloated maw as he possibly could, even as the young woman attempted to change her angle to get a better look at him.

“P-p-please… jus-just stop!” Salvatore commands, suddenly filled with a wave of confidence that abandons him just as quickly as it arrived. “j-j-j… j-just… g-go… please…”

A light mist has become visible in the light reflecting off of Nadine’s eyes, the young woman looking truly saddened by the strange man’s utter rejection of her. Whether it was out of pity for Salvatore’s sake, or fear of her own impending isolation should the likes of Salvatore even reject her company, the hooded man could neither tell, nor did he really want to know.

“Well that’s not a very nice thing to say to someone trying to be your friend now is it? I might not look as normal as I used to but I’m not here to cause any trouble” Nadine scolds lightly, her voice strong, though even Salvatore can detect a slight wobble. “But… if you can give me a valid reason why I should leave, then… then I’ll do it, no questions asked.”

A valid reason? What other reason did she need than to get away from him?

Salvatore takes a moment to wipe away some of the tears that coated his face, slightly peeking out to look at the younger woman once again before speaking. “Y-you… you can’t… s-stay here… th-this place… it i-isn’t… isn’t g-good enough f-for you… it’s… i-its not w-worthy… I-i… I’m… n-not worthy… of you…”

Nadine shifts slightly closer once again, a pained look cut into her face like a raging storm cuts through large waves out in the open ocean. Her whole body was a sea of turbulent waters as she gingerly reached her hand forward, slowly but surely inching her way closer to Salvatore, until her wine dark fingers just barely brushed against the thick, rugged fabric of his overcoat.

Silence befell the two mutants, permeating the room with tension so thick and heavy Salvatore thought he might suffocate.

The cornered man could not bring himself to look up as Nadine’s delicate fingers gently latched on to the article of clothing covering his wretched and disgusting form. Salvatore shuddered as he prepared himself for what was inevitably to come once Nadine removed his overcoat: the biting cold of the surrounding area pinching and nipping at his thick, but sensitive flesh; another shrill shriek of fear and terror that would pierce him to his very core; the sound of Nadine, beautiful, gorgeous, perfect, immaculate Nadine, fleeing not just the underground tunnels that had lead her to discover this place, but also the reservoir, never to be seen again.

Salvatore wouldn’t blame her for this choice, of course. After all, it’s what he would do if he found himself trapped with a wretched creature as grotesque and pitiful as he himself was. Death wasn’t an option Salvatore had the luxury of entertaining, but he never blamed others if they chose it over him.

He would too, if he could.

Despite his earlier expectations, the hand on his coat never moves to take the garment off the trembling man, instead, moving to gently run along the side of Salvatore’s head, down his shoulders, before resting itself softly, but firmly, along the area of growths that covered the small of his back. After taking a moment to allow the violent trembling of Salvatore’s body, in response to the young woman’s gentle caresses, to calm down to something more manageable, Nadine slowly lifts her left hand and rests it on the opposite side of the hunched-over man’s head, yet she makes no move to try and take his cloak off or remove his face from his hands.

Stillness and silence return for a brief moment, almost as though Nadine were waiting for Salvatore to raise objection to her advances and stop her, as if he had the power or control to do anything but cower in the corner and cover his growing excitement in shame. With no explicit objections voiced, the hands resting gently around Salvatore began to slowly pull him toward Nadine’s body.

“Come here” Nadine’s soft, heavenly voice commands lightly, as Salvatore’s body does as instructed with no resistance whatsoever. A broken sob of humiliating arousal escapes the hooded man when he gently falls forward into Nadine’s lap, her arms quickly moving to wrap around and hold the hooded man against her soft, warm, and strong body.

“Shhhh, it’s alright. There’s no need to be so worked up. You have nothing to be afraid of, here” Nadine coos soothingly, as her hand gently caresses his thin, leather covered arm.

Salvatore cries pitifully as the painfully comforting words and actions make him want to vomit from overjoy. “Y-you… you d-dont unders-s-stand…” the hunched man weeps, his voice slightly muffled by his knees as he continues trying to hide his face by shoving it as far between his legs as he’s physically capable.

“What don’t I understand? Could you explain it to me?” Nadine asks, patiently holding the sobbing mess of a man firmly against herself as he collects himself enough to answer.

“I-it isn’t… you… th-that I f-fear…” Salvatore begins, trailing off as another wave of cold dread and fiery desire collide violently somewhere deep inside the hooded man’s chest.

“What is it that you’re afraid of then? If not... me?” The young woman’s angelic voice questioned, the slightly fearful and worried tone of her voice toward the end of her question, as if what Salvatore thought of her was even worth her precious time to worry about, made the mutant man’s stomach wretch sickeningly.

“I-I… I f-fear… oh god-” Salvatore began, before promptly shutting up and shoving Nadine as far away from him as he could from that angle, throwing himself to the floor, on his hands and knees, in the opposite direction just as a wave of acidic bile forces its way from the confines of the man’s mouth and out onto the floor in front of him. His own hideous reflection stares back at him in the growing puddle of stomach acid once he’s done.

A spiteful reminder from the universe of what he was and why he lived the way that he did.

Drunkenly reaching his hand forward to smear the vomit puddle around so he at least didn’t have to look at himself AND sit in his own filth while he gathered the energy to get up and wash off in the lake, Salvatore missed the way Nadine’s eyes narrowed in confusion at the man’s clumsy movements, before suddenly widening as she realized what the hooded man was doing.

“No, wait! Don’t touch that, it’ll only make you feel worse if you fiddle around with that nasty stuff” Nadine says hurriedly, as she rushes forward to take Salvatore’s moving hand in her own and presses it firmly against her bosom to prevent the man from playing around in his own throw up. She gasps in shock and her grip tightens around Salvatore’s hand, as though she’d suddenly remembered something important she’d forgotten about and Salvatore’s hand had brought it back to her conscious mind, before shaking her head and pulling herself from her thoughts.

“Oh, you poor thing! Here, let me wipe your face for you, and try to take deeper, slower breaths while you’re at it. You’ve managed to work yourself into such a panic that it's no wonder you’re throwing up all over yourself.”

The room is spinning far too fast and in far too many different directions for Salvatore to really be sure what’s going on, however the feeling of Nadine’s skin pressed against his own as she tenderly raised the edge of her pristine white dress to wipe away the lines of green acidic bile that had been left on Salvatore’s lip, was a sensation of euphoria unlike anything the hooded man has ever felt before in his entire life.

Not even Mother Miranda’s own embrace felt quite as… ‘brutal’ wasn’t the appropriate word to use based on its true definition, but in that instance it's the only word that Salvatore can think of to describe how intense everything around him, Nadine especially, feels at the present moment. Her touch, her scent, her warmth, her weight, her firm grip around him, the constant rhythmic thrum of her heart beat against his cold, bony hand, all of it was so intensely brutal that it was a wonder how the combined effect didn’t beat him into the floor. It was too much for Salvatore to handle all at once, and yet he knew that if the kind angel sitting next to him retracted so much as a single one of those sensations, he’d lose himself to insanity like careless swimmers lose themselves to sudden rapid currents.

Salvatore threw up 3 more times before his stomach finally allowed him the relief the hooded man had desperately been craving. The floor was an absolute mess by this point, but thanks to Nadine, who’d managed to keep his upper body upright the whole time, Salvatore hadn’t made nearly as much of a mess of himself as he normally did, though that still didn’t fix the primary problem that had resulted in all that vomiting.

“There we go. That must feel a lot better, huh?” Nadine asks calmly, pulling Salvatore in to rest against her chest once again, his face still turned downward and away in avoidance.

Although Salvatore does not grace her question with a response, the hooded man has long since given up trying to get away from the young woman, at this point just allowing her to move him however she pleased, taking in as much of her kindness and affection as he possibly could, before she inevitably hightails it out of here, of course. It was only a matter of time, at this rate.

“You know… you’re a lot bigger than I expected you to be” comes a sudden declaration from Nadine, breaking the silence that had permeated throughout the room and immediately pulling Salvatore from his dejected whimpering.

“I mean… I suppose I should have expected that, especially since most middle schoolers are taller than me, nowadays” the young woman continues with a lighthearted chuckle, “but you looked so small and stump-like from all the way up in that stupid pod that I couldn’t help but be a little surprised when I felt you had arms and legs. You could have very well had a snake for a body for all I knew and I still don’t think I’d have been as surprised, though this huge coat you're wearing certainly doesn’t make getting a good look at you very easy.”

“Th… that’s th-the point…” Salvatore mumbles, though seemingly more to himself than anyone else.

“Really? And why is that?” Nadine asks curiously, clearly having heard the older man’s muttering.

“I-if… if you k-knew me… you’d know… th-the answer to that q-question” Salvatore replies sadly, fresh tears beginning to prickle along his lower lid, threatening to spill over as the depressing reality of his meaningless existence makes itself more than obvious.

He was a filthy monster who deserved to spend the rest of his life alone and miserable, because why would something as unholy as him ever be worthy of anything else?

“Oh, now I don’t think that’s true at all. After all, I’d like to think I know you pretty well, and I still want to see what you look like” Nadine counters, her words shocking Salvatore beyond belief.

She… knew him? How? When? In what ways? What?

The only other time they’ve ever interacted was back in Mother Miranda’s laboratory. While the hooded man supposed his gifts could be aiding in Nadine’s surprisingly positive impression of him, he hesitated to call receiving a dress and a necklace from a random stranger “knowing” someone. How on earth could she say she knew him when, for all intents and purposes, they’ve only just met?

“B-b-but… h-how… how d-do you k-know… m-me? Y-you have… t-trouble… seeing… d-dont you? D-did… did y-you see me… b-back in the l-lab?” Salvatore asks, tears belonging to an unspecified emotion once again beginning to fall as a hand moves to gently grasp at the bones lining the top of his hood.

“Unfortunately no, I wasn’t able to get a good look at you before, hence why I was trying so hard to catch a glimpse of you earlier. You are, however, right in the assumption about my eyesight. I have severely impaired vision, yes, but it's manageable with a strong enough prescription; not that I see myself getting to an eye doctor anytime soon for a new pair of contacts. But even without my contact lenses, I can still make out general movements, as well as general shapes and colors, pretty easily from far away, it's just fine details from a distance and darkness that give me the most trouble. My vision is actually perfectly normal so long as whatever I’m looking at is within a few feet of me. If I looked down right now, I’d probably be able to see your face normally. Do you hide your face away from everyone around here?” the young woman asks curiously, gently pulling the dark fabric of the hood back, slowly revealing Salvatore’s face to the dim light of the room, even as her gaze remained locked on the wall behind them.

“N-not… e-everyone… th-there’s a f-few… who… who I sh-show my f-face to… regularly” Salvatore chokes.

Really?” Nadine asks, “like who?”

“M-my… siblings.”

“Oh, so you’re not the only one around here then? Are your siblings here in the reservoir?”

“N-no… th-they live… in o-other places… of th-their own… a-around the v-village.”

“Wow, so there is more of this place to explore, then!” Nadine states excitedly. “I’d love to get out and see more of the area for myself at some point, though I doubt that’s very wise given the amount of howling I’ve heard the past few nights and the fact I don’t know my way around this area... though, even if I did, that memory is probably long gone along with the fucking rest of them… not that I would have wanted to hold onto them anyways, I don’t think.”

Salvatore’s attention is caught by the last bit of Nadine’s statement, confusion filling him over what the younger woman could possibly mean by what she’d just said. “‘G-gone along w-with the rest o-of them?’... W-what… d-does that… what d-do you m-mean?”

Nadine remains silent for a moment as she continues to absentmindedly stroke the side of Salvatore’s head, the hooded man unable to tell what she could possibly be feeling right now without risking exposing his face to her.

Thankfully, Nadine resumes speaking before Salvatore loses patience and gets too risky. “My memory of the life I had before waking up in that damn pod is foggy at absolute best, but I don’t need my memories to know that I wasn’t very happy with my previous life and that I was actively trying to get away from it somehow. What exactly was I even running from and where was I going? Who knows, and frankly I don’t care to relearn it either. I do think it's quite funny that you were talking about me needing to go somewhere else because this place isn’t good enough for me though, because honestly, even if I could somehow get the hell out of here, it's not like I’d have anywhere else to go. Getting away from the shitty life I had before is probably how I ended up here to begin with, though if I’d known this was how things would end up I might have reconsidered throwing it all away so suddenly.”

Had it not been for Mother Miranda being there for him throughout the years, Salvatore would probably think much the same way as Nadine about the whole situation, but having Mother meant he always had a purpose and a goal to work towards, so it didn’t matter that Salvatore couldn’t return to his old life. What shocked the deformed man the most however, was the fact that Nadine appeared to not only already accept the fact that she couldn’t go back to her former life, but seemed to actively be searching for something, anything new to try and fill the void that had been left behind by the life she’d, more or less, willingly gave away to come up here.

Could… could this mean…?

“Thankfully my ability to make new memories doesn’t seem to have been fucked up at all, which I’m quite happy about since I'll be needing to make a lot to fill in the empty spaces in my brain. We met for the first time in the underground laboratory I was being kept in, though I suppose it was less ‘meeting’ and more ‘seeing’ for the first time, but… still. I don’t know why you were there, or who was with you at the time, but I remember waking up just before you were about to leave. There were a couple others who’d come, before you, to look at me and a couple others for some reason, but you were the one who stuck out the most, to me. You were… special!”

Shock and dumbfounded awe nearly choke the life right out of Salvatore. He could barely comprehend a single word the young woman was saying to him, yet he clung to every heavenly syllable she uttered like they were the foundations of the word of god itself. The pain and agony he normally felt due to his cadou mutations momentarily paused, slowly weaning from its usual constant thrum to a dull numbness that felt surprisingly euphoric in all it’s nothingness.

“S-special? Me?” Salvatore breathed, almost unable to believe the words, even as Nadine hummed in affirmation of their truth. “B-but… how…?”

The giddy chuckle Salvatore’s mundane question pulled from Nadine shook the deformed man to his very core. Her girlish laughter rattles violently around inside the deformed man’s head, playing the sweet, holy tune over and over again, like a broken record that Salvatore would happily go insane listening to for the rest of eternity if he could.

“Isn’t it obvious? I’d have assumed you knew exactly what you were doing with how sweetly you talked back there, why it's almost criminal how suavely you stroked and tugged at the strings of my delicate heart. All the others were so rude, boring, and/or annoying that I thought I might die if I ended up stuck with one of them, but then you came in and swept me right off my feet. It was like nothing else I’ve ever felt before and immediately told me that you weren’t like all the others, you were a kind man and if I ever ran into you I could tell I’d be able to trust you…” Nadine trails off for a moment. “When I learned that we were being moved out of containment and onto our “permanent homes”, I hoped and prayed that I’d be lucky enough to end up wherever you were, but I didn’t want to get too excited until I found out for certain.”

“Th-then how did y-you know… it-it was me?”

“How could I possibly not? You set yourself apart from all the others right out of the gate. I'm honestly shocked you don’t remember it yourself. But there's not a single doubt in my mind that I know exactly who you are… er- well, I suppose a more appropriate way of putting that would be “I know exactly who you are to me”, not that what other people say or think has ever really been something I’ve taken with more than a grain of salt” Nadine giggle beautifully, smiling kindly as she cradled Salvatore’s hoodless, tear soaked face against her, like he were the most precious thing she’d ever laid eyes upon and wanted to hold and protect him until the end of time.

Unable to look away any longer, Salvatore allows his head to rise from his knees until it settles upon the face of the woman currently cradling him in her arms. Her gaze remained turned away from Salvatore for a moment, though for some reason the hooded man had a feeling that it was more out of respect for him and his boundaries than a lack of desire to see his face.

What a strange thing, to be treated with more kindness, love, and respect from a complete stranger than from the majority of people you interact with.

Salvatore wanted to cry when Nadine’s golden eyes finally lowered to him, her face slowly shifting downwards until their noses were little more than an inch apart from one another, though whether his tears were from agony or ecstasy, even he couldn’t properly tell at the present moment. Only one question was on his mind and the deformed man would stop at nothing until he got an answer for it.

“W-who… who am I-I… t-to y-you?” Salvatore asks, his voice barely above a whisper as he forces himself to stare directly into the endless pool of honey yellow swirling around in her irises, wanting-no… needing to know, to see with his own two eyes, what exactly he was to this woman, and whether that answer would spell endless disaster for him and his deep seeded desires, or be the key that unlocks a world of possibilities almost as endless as the spheres of gold that Salvatore finds himself unable, or rather unwilling, to tear his gaze from, lest this be the first, and last time he ever be blessed enough to see them from this close.

A long moment of silence passes as Nadine returns Salvatores gaze, the fondness of her expression only growing as she lowers her forehead to rest against his, a soft, almost breathlessly enamored expression that he’d only seen on black and white screens cast toward men eons more pleasant to look at than he was, slowly spread across her perfect face as she finally answers Salvatore’s question.

“You’re the lovely man who held my hand!”

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pixelatedrose · 3 years ago

Note

read this and respond (if you’d like) when you aren’t in the car anymore, i don’t want you to get sick :0 !

you don’t apologize for not be able to write a lot! you didn’t have to answer my ask in the first place but it means a lot to me that you did :) also! i wanna say two things! one, i think i’ve said this before but i really like how you explain things. i’ve tried to learn how to play d&d and i think i’ve got a solid understanding of it, but it’s still hard when people say things like “10 AC”. but i don’t have to worry about that when you explain things cause you sorta dumb it down in a way that doesn’t make me feel dumb.. if that makes sense. two, i love how you showed callahan being healed in your drawing cause it just adds so much more weight to the picture. and i can’t even imagine how that fight was, dancing with death the whole time, that must’ve been so stressful. anyway! that’s about all, but you still have a lot of explaining to do (if you want and when you’re ready) mister >:0 i hope you had a lovely day and you enjoy the rest of your night, love you ro :)) !

1st: dw bout me answerin asks in the car lol I have no fuckin self control sksjshs

2nd: thank you sm m8!!! I know you've mentioned in the past that you don't play d&d or know a ton about it so I try and give little explanations where I can and it's great to hear that I do it in a non-patronizing way

3rd: heheheee okay so imma go into some more detail on the Callahan & Shade training session-

Okay, so.

To understand how we got to this point in time, we have to understand where he was

The party entered the Shadowfell- a mirror plane of existence where everything is contorted and dark and just about everything wants to kill you. This is where we were trying to get to when Callahan first joined the party.

Now Callahan didn't have a full grasp on what the Shadowfell was, really, when he went through the portal. The only one who did was Sylas, and by all the gods did he try to warn us.

Callahan was still so very very unprepared...

The very first fight in the Fell- one of the first battles Callahan has EVER been in in his life- he gets one-shotted by this monster and drops below zero hp.

When you drop below zero hp in d&d, you're Ina state of in between life and death, right on the cusp of either one and a breath's wrong move could send you toppling over the edge. You stay in this state of dying until one of three things happen. 1) you get healed. 2) you succeed three death saves and you stabilize. Or 3) you fail three death saves and you die.

Callahan had succeeded two saves, but he had also failed two. One last roll would have determined his entire fate, and I'm not known for having the best of luck when it comes to dice.

Sylas, our lovely amazing wonderful cleric boy, barely made it in time and slapped Callahan with a healing spell right after the monster died and he regained consciousness.

This...messed him up.

Callahan was absolutely shaken to his core at this very close encounter with death and he did not handle it well.

He got furiously angry, ignoring the fact that it was him that brought him to the Fell, and instead shifting the rage to the rest of the party and blaming them for his being there and, by proxy, his almost dying.

He...said some things...that shouldn't have been said. At least not like that...

And the worst part? It didn't get better. He was fitful and angry and upset at everyone for weeks.

Finally, Haru was done with Callahan's baby-bitchfit and when Callahan snapped at Monty (again), Haru got up and dragged Callahan out into the forest a little ways away from the rest of the party.

And what did he do?

Well he punched him.

Well, more than that. He told Callahan to fight back too. Soon fist-fighting turned into hitting each other with sticks, which turned into Haru having to tackle Callahan to the ground, leaving Cal the perfect opportunity to steal the dagger off his belt and ramming the pommel into his ribs.

Cal would like to say he won that fight. Haru would have something else to say.

After laying there on the ground for a moment, Callahan started to laugh. A sound that Haru had not heard in weeks, and one he didn't know he missed.

Haru explained that he wanted to teach Cal to fight so that what happened with that first monster? Where Cal nearly died?? So that that would never have to happen again.

Something about it- maybe it was something about Haru- calmed Callahan down.

And then it really hit him.

Oh fuck.

I've been a jackass for weeks to literally everyone.

It also started to hit him just how weak he really was in a fight if it ever came down to melee.

So they came back to the party together, Callahan happier than ever with little scrapes and lookin very roughed up (I won't say but the rest of the party did not in fact think they were sparring-)

Callahan apologized to Monty the next morning. The things he said specifically to him were...well...let's just say it hit harder for Monty than the others.

Monty wasn't as quick to forgive and forget. Callahan doesn't blame him.

However, that night Callahan and this new party member- Shade- were on a watch together. Now Shade is a much higher level than everyone else in the party, and is far far more powerful. He's a Hexblade Warlock, but he's also a fallen paladin (or cleric I can't remember) as WELL as a fallen Aasimar (kinda like a fallen angel but watered down). But...also probably a Shadow sorcerer?? Listen Shade is an amalgam of magic and power and idk where all of it comes from-

In any case, Shade is big powerful lad.

Now Cal and Shade are on a watch together, and Shade begins talking about Callahan's magic. He picks up a small opal stone from gauntlets he wears and focuses his magic into it. The opal glows with a black light and swirls with shadows of purple and black. He then hands the opal to Callahan and instructs him to focus his magic like he did.

When he does, the opal changes again, but this time, it swirls with bright, ever-changing array of fantastical colors. A rainbow of things that have never quite been seen before. It's extraordinary.

Shade explains that his own magic is that of the Shadowfell, it's dark and thus his magic is sewn from the shade. And then he explains that he's met other mages- ones with powers of the storm, magic of dragons- but he has never seen someone with magic like Callahan's.

Why?

Well, cause Callahan has pure, unfettered, untained, raw magic inside him.

It's an inferno of unbridled magic and it is completely and utterly entirely untamed. It cannot be controlled and it is as wild as the wind and earth itself. And sometimes, that uncontrollablity lashes out and surges forth, and sometimes things that Callahan doesn't exactly want to happen, happen.

And Callahan listens. And his heart sinks. Uncontrollable? Pure?? Absolute chaotic force of magic??? He can't stand the thought of not having a handle on his magic, because if he can't control it, how the hell is he supposed to use it to protect people??

He expresses this to Shade and the "older" man tells him that he can and should use this to his advantage.

At that moment, Callahan's magic goes wild and he surges. The wooden log they are sitting on, under Callahan's hand it starts to faintly smoke. Callahan doesn't notice, but Shade does. He cuts a small piece of rope and asks Cal to hold it for him. The rope errupts into flames and Callahan drops it in vibrant shock and distress.

Shade calms him down and explains that he can use that. He gets Callahan thinking. Asks how he can use this to help in in battle- he can set things aflame with a touch, for God's sake, what can he do to use that?

And Shade looks at Callahan's small scratches and bruises and scuffs on his clothes and turns and says "I know that look...you've been sparring, haven't you?"

Callahan nods his head. He says that Haru said he'd teach him how to fight, that he wants to- needs to- be stronger.

Shade asks if Callahan would like Shade to help him as well, help him learn how to use his magic to fight.

Callahan says yes.

They start small, Shade borrows Haru's sword in his sleep and gives it to Cal to use. Shade goes through the motions of explaining how he uses his magic to help him wear armor and wield weapons- how he manipulates the pull of power inside him into his blade, into his armor, how he makes them seem lighter and easier to use and wear.

And Callahan follows suit. He goes through the motions of swordplay, focusing and directing his magic into it. And slowly, it seems the blade gets lighter and light in his palm.

After a little while of this, Shade says that he would like to try something to really help Cal in the middle of a real battle. And he summons a demon.

Now, as Shade summons this demon, he explains that he has control over it. That the demon cannot do anything that Shade does not want it to do. The demon is not pleased with this.

In fact, with shadowy chains around its neck and wrists and ankles, it seethes and hisses and spits that it will tear and murder and shred Callahan and Shade to scraps. Shade reassures Callahan that he won't let it kill him. But he asks one last time if Callahan wants to do this.

And with a glance at this horrible creature with blood and murder in its eyes, Callahan's grasp tightens around his borrowed blade and he nods yes.

And so the fight begins.

Callahan uses his magic and filters it into the blade in his hands and tries to strike the beast. He hits it a few times, but the monster keeps hitting Callahan back, and he drops down to 1 hp.

As the demon cackles and pulls back for one final attack, Shade pulls down on the shadowy chains and restrains it. It howls in fury at this.

Shade asks Callahan if he wants to stop, that if he really wants, Shade knows a way to help Callahan keep going.

Callahan, bloody, sliced up, fighting for consciousness and blinking red drops from his eyes, hands on his sword in a white-knuckled grip, the blade digging into the ground as the only thing keeping him upright, looks Shade deep and deadly in the eyes, his goggles hung slightly cracked around his neck. His eyes have a burning flicker to them and with no hesitation to his words, he speaks. "I need to be better."

Shade takes a moment and the faintest ghost of a smile flitters onto his face and he says "That was the right answer." And he begins to heal Callahan with Greater Restoration.

Now, I could be wrong either with what the spell does or what spell he actually cast, but what happened with this spell was this: he could restore an incredible amount of hp to Callahan, but he would TAKE half the hp he restored as damage to himself. So if he healed Cal for 10 points, Shade would take 5.

This first time he ended up healing Callahan all the way back up to full.

And back to the fight they went.

This happened four more times, where Cal dropped below 10 hp and Shade had to stop to heal him for a moment.

Finally, Shade asked Callahan one last thing.

"I can do one more thing to help you learn the movement of battle, but it would mean releasing him. You don't have to do it, but-"

"You're wrong. I do have to- what would that make me if I backed down at the first sight of risk?"

"...you've made a good choice."

With that, Shade released the Demon, who was battered and torn and nearly as destroyed as Callahan himself, if not far far more. And he let out a ravenous cackle, full of craze and bloodlust and victory. And he looked Callahan directly in the eyes and told him "This is where you die!!!"

Four more rounds.

Callahan had messed up his magic once before in the fight and his magic had surged, giving him the ability to teleport short distances for the next minute.

And his magic messed up once again, poisoning a random creature near him. Luckily, it wasn't Shade, but the Demon was immune to poison anyway.

But as Callahan took hits, he dropped below 10 hp again, but there was no more looking to Shade for help anymore.

He took one last swing, a move of the blade that felt more dance-like than any sort of movement to kill, and he cut the demon clean a sunder- a trail of the blade that ran from one shoulder across to the bottom of its boney hip- and the demon let out a croaking, creaking, collapsing gasp of air that could have been mistaken for a strangled last cackle of defiance.

And then it fell over, a position of defeat that Callahan may have been had he not made the surer move.

And Callahan stood above it all.

Alive.

Alive and by his hands alone was his enemy gone.

Alive and by a blade he used with magic in his veins was he that way.

Alive and the victor over a demon.

Shade healed Callahan one last time, nearly collapsing himself from the loss of life energy. He managed to gain some of it back by summoning small imps that he then proceeded to suck the life out of, but it still took a bit of a toll on both of them.

They went back to the party where everyone lay sleeping, none knowing the exchange that had happened that night.

The spoke for a while longer, Shade telling Callahan of his past while casting the mending spell on his destroyed and torn clothes.

Their shift ended and they woke up the next pair for watch and went to bed.

And now did Callahan forget to tell anyone else about what had happened?

Yes absolutely.

Did Haru end up finding out because 1) Callahan had a fresh magical scar on his cheek and 2) Callahan forgot to give Haru back his sword?

Yes absolutely.

Was Haru pissed off that Callahan basically almost died multiple times and go into full protective boyfriend mode after he found out?

Yes absolutely.

Anyway long story time but I hope you liked it ;D

#spooky-scary-bumblebees #Bee!!!#the Weave of Silence #Callahan McBlithe #Shade Walker #ask me things #LISTEN I REALIZE I HAVEN'T BEEN THE BEST AT UPDATING Y'ALL ON THE ONGOINGS OF THE WOS CAMPAIGN #BUT ITS REALLY FUCKING COOL I PROMISE #i mean this is literally something that happened IN THE GAME so yeah I'd say its pretty killer #anyway sorry for the long read but i hope it was worth it !!!

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musical-chick-13 · 4 years ago

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And Theon bc I love him

WHAT A COINCIDENCE I LOVE HIM TOO (this answer is gonna be a combination of books and show)

Send me a character and I’ll tell you the following:

• Did they live up to their potential? / In what ways was their potential unachieved?

-I would say yes. The only negative I have about his general arc is his death (which, see below). But Theon from the very beginning was, though not a particularly nice person, still relatable. Feeling othered, wanting to be accepted by an immediate environment that doesn’t accept you, isolated from and ostracized by your family, and the tension that comes between serving the different types of familial relationships in your life. Theon has no idea who he is, tossed aside by his blood family for not growing up with them and being “soft,” aka sort-of moral and having emotions that aren’t selfish rage or smugness (which, yep, that second part is a mood, see: my entire childhood and how no one wanted to be around an “emotional” “soft” child). And from there, he spirals out of control in a way that, while certainly not admirable by any stretch of the imagination, is still understandable in the context of the narrative and his characterization. And from there, after going through hell and quite literally losing himself (even to the point of straight-up denying rescue), he builds himself back up gradually, to the point where he expressed extreme regret for what he’s done, helps an innocent woman escape a truly horrifying situation, acknowledges that his family is generally garbage, and (in-show b/c again books aren’t finished), helping to restore his sister to power, rescuing her after his PTSD relapses while confronting Euron, and ultimately opting to protect the Starks come hell or high water in order to genuinely atone for what he’s done. He is no longer conflicted because he wants to do the right thing, and that right thing is defending the kingdom from the White Walkers and making sure Sansa and Bran are safe. And it’s no longer about fulfilling a duty or finding a family to fill the void. Because now he has found himself. I will contend that Theon has one of the best, most nuanced, most organic redemption arcs of all time. I will forever be grateful that I got to see that piece of storytelling unfold.

Although, I would love to know what he thought of Dany. A missed opportunity, that.

• How they negatively and positively affected the story.

-Positive: His arc of identity and finding where your loyalties lie ties into the overall theme of “How do you find yourself in a world where goodness, authenticity, and honesty are often punished and increasingly rare?” And it proves that governmental politics aren’t the only defining factors in decisions: familial politics can be just as difficult and dangerous, which adds yet another rich, complicated layer to the overall story. He has a genuine, honest-to-Drowned-God redemption arc, which is...not really present anywhere else in the story (no, Jaime is not on a Redemption Quest, I will die on this hill). But I think the biggest draw of Theon’s presence is that it deconstructs the whole “Character Revenge Fantasy” idea. He does bad things. We want him to be punished. But not like that. No one deserves that. How far is too far? What does retribution really look like? Given how easily that idea can be abused and go off the rails, is retribution even something to strive for? What is the point of using extreme violence/torture/mutilation/breaking someone’s psyche when it doesn’t really accomplish anything? Isn’t atonement and genuine justice a better option? It certainly was for Theon. He could only piece himself back together and do anything meaningful once he was out of his abusive environment. All of these are imporant questions that are posed by his existence in the narrative.

-Negative: Idk if I have much to say here. My biggest problem is his death (see below), but that’s not really a negative story effect so much as...being disappointing and narratively irrelevant. I gotta say, his introduction via his sister was...really weird. I genuinely have no idea why GRRM wrote that. It never came up again or had any kind of narrative ramifications and kind of cast a strange, uncomfortable light on his relationship with Asha/Yara for the remainder of the story. I can ignore and enjoy their later relationship it if I don’t think about it too hard, though, so I guess I’ll chalk it up to GRRM having a Bad Idea.

• What my favorite arc for them is.

-All of it?? Theon’s journey is kind of...one big arc, which is why I think it works so well. He has this overarching redemption plot which spans the entire series and informs every decision he makes (for good or for bad, depending on where in the aforementioned journey he is). The redemption arc isn’t bogged down with side plots or other pieces of narrative clutter, meaning it has time to grow and, thus, be gradual and realistic. If I had to choose a specific point, it’s probably when he tries to reintegrate back into society via supporting Yara. Gaining the Iron Islands’ support for her ruling, spiriting away with Euron’s fleet, and ultimately rescuing his sister after her capture. He can’t just go back into society. He’s scared. He has really bad PTSD. But he recognizes that putting his home in good hands is something bigger than just him because it’s Yara’s home, too. I just...I really love family relationships, y’all.

• What I think of their ending.

-I’m not really sure how I feel about this one. I get that the series is GrimDark™ and that people who make the right choice and fight for good die all the time, but Theon dying just felt...wrong. To me.

And, like...I get it. It makes sense to parallel his original descent into villainy (cemented by executing those two boys and pretending they were Bran and Rickon) with him dying to protect Bran himself. It ties into the whole very common trope of completing a full redemption arc by committing a completely selfless act at great personal cost. It’s kind of like the whole Missy thing in Doctor Who (which...hoo boy, that post is coming, make no mistake), where selfishness is directly opposed by making the ultimate sacrifice with no motivation for personal gain. And the fact that the last words he ever heard were “You’re a good man?” I cannot even begin to describe how much that makes me sob. But...honestly, I’m really tired of this idea that redemption has to end in death in order to be achieved or “complete.” I think it’s much more poignant to have a redeemed character live to help build a better world. Because what’s the point of telling people to be better if the “reward” is death? No one’s going to want to reform themselves if they think that’ll be the result.

I think the thing that Bugs Me™ the most is that Theon never really got to have a moment of peace when he was alive. Sansa gained the North’s love and at least had a secure childhood. Ned and Cat were happily married for years. Arya had parents who loved her and a good relationship with Jon. Jon fell in love with Ygritte and found his Night Watch Bros, and Robb (in show verse) had some very happy moments with Talisa. Davos put great stock in what he considered fulfilling friendships with Stannis and Shireen; Brienne was treated respectfully by Renly, Catelyn, and Sansa; Missandei and Grey Worm had each other and their friendship with Dany, who herself had many personal successes in her quest for the Iron Throne and saw the death of her abusive brother. Cersei even had moments with Jaime (who himself had several notable military victories and at least some time with Myrcella, as well as being gladly and deeply in love, however dysfunctional that love was), times when she successfully fought off enemies (including her dad), and some sweet moments with Tommen, as well as a huge victory via blown-up sept at the end of season 6. Theon was treated as a second-class family member by the Starks his whole life by being “traded” to them as a condition of war resolution AS A BABY, is immediately disparaged and mistreated by his immediate family when he tries to return to them, makes terrible decisions that almost cost him his conscience completely, is brutally tortured by Ramsay, is on the run with his sister from Euron almost immediately after, and has a PTSD attack that ultimatly results in him having to launch a rescue mission. And then he fights ice zombies. And then he dies. He never really...got to be happy at all? There was never any kind of “win” for him. Not even survival. The narrative couldn’t even give him that.

TLDR: Theon’s death seemed less shock-value-y than others (like, for example, Shireen or Missandei or, heck, Melisandre even), and it isn’t the worst thing I’ve ever seen. It’s narratively-informed and it makes sense as an emotional through-line, but, ultimately, Redemption Cemented By Selfless Death is a tired trope, and I honestly thought this story (which...you know...serves as a deconstruction of common fantasy tropes/book tropes in general) was better than that.

• When I wish they had died. / If I think they should’ve died.

-So here’s where we get personal™ kids.

So, it’s no secret that I am...severely mentally ill. I’ve talked about expression/presentation of mental illness in regard to Cersei a lot on this blog, and how that (as paradoxical as it may seem) helped bring a sense of comfort and emotional resonance to me. Theon, post-Ramsay, has, I think, a very clear case of PTSD. Theon is one of the few characters I’ve seen where his mental illness isn’t the cause of the bad, violent, dangerous choices he makes. It only takes root after he has made the decision and conscious effort to better himself, and it, rather than demonizing him, serve to humanize him. His trauma didn’t define him. And although a PTSD attack led to him unintentionally losing Yara to Euron’s capture, he makes every effort to rescue her, a goal he does end up achieving. It is so rare I get to see a character who goes through these things, successfully fight them and come out with positive qualities at the end. Like...switching topics a bit here, Jaime going back to King’s Landing to (try to) escape and ultimately die with Cersei made sense to me because, as Jaime says, he is a hateful man. He never made much of an honest effort to be anything else. And he never truly wanted to be good; he just wanted to be liked. He wanted to adopt some personality that would make him feel less disconnected from the rest of the world. But Theon...genuinely feels remorse for everything he’s done. He makes a concerted effort to do everything in his power to improve the lives of people he believes are good and deserve to be safe. So, just...killing him off in a Completely Selfless Sacrifice (like...you know how a lot of mentally ill people put themselves through suffering-like OCD rituals, bottling feelings, self-harm, even suicide-in a misplaced attempt to “help” or “protect other people”) seemed antithetical to everything we saw of his arc.

Ultimately, with such a humanizing, empathetic portrayal of trauma and mental health struggles, seeing Theon be killed off just...pissed me off. I am so tired of seeing mentally ill characters die. I really want to believe that I can live through and thrive in spite of the things that afflict me, and I get example after example of characters not being allowed to do that. It feels awful, quite frankly. And it makes hope that much harder.

I also just feel like...there was nothing the story gained from his death? I get the thematic parallels as mentioned earlier, but it didn’t really move the story forward in any significant way. It didn’t motivate other characters to do anything, it had no political ramifications, it didn’t serve to contribute to any kind of happy ending or commentary on society, it just...was sad. Again, I thought this story was better than that.

#theon greyjoy #got #my son #mental illness in media #meta #redemption arcs #tw: self harm mention #tw: suicide mention

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jetsetlife138 · 5 years ago

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Idk if you’re still accepting prompts but can you do 79 with Alastor x fem!reader?

#79 - “Fuck me like you hate me.” Pairing: Alastor x fem!ReaderWarning: VERY explicit and rough smut

He’d gone too far this time. Alastor thoroughly enjoyed pushing your buttons, and most days you could handle it, but not today.

“I’m done, Alastor. I’m so over your bullshit. You’re egotistical, selfish, and just… I hate you. I really, truly do. Just stay the hell away from me.”

It’s not that everything you were saying wasn’t true, and if you were being honest, calling attention to his shitty behavior was long overdue for the arrogant demon. So… why did you have an almost overwhelming sense of guilt as soon as the words left your mouth?

The Radio Demon peeled his lips back into a sinister smile, revealing his frighteningly jagged teeth.”My dear girl, are you truly that foolish? It is you who repeatedly seeks me out. It’s you that comes crawling back to me for companionship when you’ve seemed to abandon all hope. I am the company you seek when you lie awake at night, lonely and desperate for affection.”

You refused to budge as he moved closer, his face now only inches away from your own as his hot breath brushed over your face, his scent equally revolting and intoxicating. “There’s no harm in admitting what you already know, dearest. You cannot resist me, and you would love nothing more than to be filled by me over and over again like the hungry cock slut that you are.”

SLAP

The sound of your hand coming into contact with his face echoed throughout the room, leaving behind a haunting silence in its wake. His face had turned away from you due to the impact of your assault, and his mouth hung open in shock. All you could do was gawk at him, utterly speechless and unable to fully comprehend what you had just done.

The both of you remained still for what seemed like an eternity, but was probably no more than a few seconds. Finally, he looked toward you again, a coldness in his eyes that you had never felt before, turning your blood to ice. His lip curled, and it was only when he smiled once more that you had realized the gravity of your mistake.

“So, that’s how this is going to go, hmm?” he purred dangerously, tilting his head far enough to crack the bones in his neck. His demeanor was eerily calm, but you could still feel the intensity beneath the surface, his rage threatening to emerge at any given time. The fact that his reaction was cool and calculated had frightened you more than if he would have exploded with anger instead.

Swallowing thickly, your immediate reaction was to take a step back to create some distance between you and the unpredictable demon. However, with every cautious step you took away from him, he countered by taking an enormous stride forward. Why the fuck did he have to be so tall with such long ass legs?!

Eventually, you had reached the wall, no longer able to distance yourself. “A-Alastor… I didn’t… I--”

Before you could finish the rest of your sentence, he was on top of you, twisting you around to face away from him and pinning you up against the wall. You tried to wriggle free, but his hold on you was far too strong as he kept you in place with his body pressed against your back.

Your froze when you felt him bend slightly to run his claws up your inner thigh towards your core. When his fingers danced over your heat, your breath hitched and you fought the urge to buck into his hand.

His black and red strands of hair swept across your cheek as he leaned forward to whisper huskily into your ear, “Tell me again how much you detest me,” he demanded as his slender digits continued to tease you over your damp heat. It took all you had to resist grinding against his fingers.

“I’m pretty sure the word I used was ‘hate’, but whatever,” you barked, seething with irritation and sexual frustration. “Either way, I really fucking do.”

His hand found his way into your hair as he yanked your head back, pressing his lips hungrily against yours in a deep kiss. Overcome with lust, you reached your arm back to bring him even closer, opening your mouth to welcome his tongue as he wasted no time in kneading it against your own. Absentmindedly, your thighs began to part wider to allow the skilled demon more access to your throbbing cunt, already dripping from his actions. You really hated how easily he brought you to this state.

When he began to press his palm into you to add more pressure to your aching clit, a needy whine escaped your throat, which he swallowed down with his mouth as he continued to kiss you, chuckling at your obvious need for him.

Breaking the kiss, he flipped you back around so that you were facing him once more before he pressed his forehead against yours. His hot breath swept over your face as he panted against you, moving to finally brush the fabric of your panties aside to allow him full access. He wasted no time slipping a finger inside of you, crooking his digit into a ‘come hither’ motion, hitting your g-spot over and over again.

Clutching the front of his suit in your hands, you rolled your hips against him, eager for more. He relished in your response to his touch, smirking arrogantly. “For someone who hates me as much as you supposedly do, you’re awfully wet, my dear.”

“That doesn’t mean a-anything,” you bit back, trying to maintain your composure as he increased his speed, pumping in and out of you with vigor. “Just because you’re an entitled, n-narcissistic, self-absorbed piece of shit--oh god--doesn’t mean that you’re not also a--mnph-- somewhat decent fuck.”

He snarled at you, shoving a second finger without warning and thrusting into you with such force, you thought that he was going to break you. “I must say, it’s unbecoming to so easily succumb to the advances of someone supposedly as entitled and self-absorbed as I am. One might say that it’s actually quite pathetic, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Fuck you, Alastor.”

He laughed darkly, choking on his own breath shortly after when you moved your hands down his slender form and onto the obvious tent in his pants, palming at it eagerly while he rolled his hips against you.

“And you say I’m pathetic?” you mocked, smirking at his reaction to your touch.

He responded by shoving his fingers so forcefully deep inside of you that you could have sworn you had been lifted from the ground. You cried out in both pleasure and pain, knowing full well that you weren’t going to be able to walk right for the next few days.

Using his other hand, he made quick work of his trousers, eagerly pulling out his weeping cock. Unable to stop yourself, you reached forward, sliding up his shaft with your hand and thumbing at his slit, spreading the precum around the head. He moaned at the sensation, his jaw unhinging as he shut his eyes, his body trembling with anticipation.

“I’m going to ruin you,” he promised breathlessly before sliding his fingers out of you, bringing them to his mouth to suck his digits clean. You whined at the sight, earning another wave of arousal to leak out of your cunt. He then reached back down to hook his fingers around your panties before yanking so hard that they ripped right off of your body, causing you to jolt forward into him as he tossed them aside, an arrogant smirk plastered on his face.

“Doubt it,” you retorted offhandedly. “You’re not as good as you think are, Al. Last time you fucked me I nearly fell asleep from boredom. I thought demons were supposed to be strong and fearsome. You’re a goddamned softie. You’re weak - a fucking doormat. ‘All-powerful’? What a fucking joke.”

It was an obvious lie. Not only had you previously seen the barbaric carnage and slaughter of his enemies first-hand, but there had also been plenty of times before where he had fucked you so brutally that your entire body was littered with multiple dark bruises, leaving behind a soreness that lasted for several days. Regardless, you were pissed off and you were doing all that you could to deflate his ego, consequences be damned.

The look in his eyes instantly made you regret your words. Grinning sinisterly from ear to ear, he reached up to grab your throat, completely cutting off your airway as he used his other hand to line himself up against your heat before snapping his hips forward and filling you completely.

Your immediate response was to gasp, but he held onto your throat too tightly, quickly withdrawing and shoving himself back in again and again, setting a brutal pace.

Tears filled your eyes as you silently begged him for some lenience, which he finally granted you, releasing his hold on your throat after a few more thrusts. You sucked in the air greedily as he continued to rail you against the wall, nearly lifting you from the ground with the harshness of his momentum.

“O-oh, shit,” you choked out,

“Is this what you wanted? Or am I boring you yet again?” He emphasized his words with a particularly rough jab right into your core.

You wanted to beg him to stop-- to slow down and not be so malicious, but there was no way in hell that you were going to relent and let him think that he won.

“I h-hardly even feel anything. I-- oh god-- I’ve had better sex with-- huhg-- with myself. You’re n-nothing.”

With all of the moaning and rutting you were doing, you would have been shocked if he had actually believed you. Given the way he was fucking you, it was a surprise that you could even form words at all. Regardless, Alastor enjoyed the challenge, and the both of you knew it.

“Is that so?” He then gripped your leg tightly, lifting it up and curving it around to rest on his hip while he slammed himself even deeper inside of you, his cock hitting your cervix with each shove. Your nails raked his back, running along the smooth fabric of his red suit since he hadn’t even bothered to remove a single article of his own clothing.

“How about now? Can you feel me now, you ungrateful harlot?You were slightly taken aback at how angry he sounded-- as if he was genuinely upset by your teasing. If you were being honest with yourself, it brought you a lot of smug satisfaction.

You opened your mouth to give some witty retort, but with the way he was railing you, it was damn near impossible. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you finally relented, releasing a wail of pleasure as you struggled to breathe, each thrust knocking the breath out of your lungs. The only words that escaped you were, “Yes! Oh, god, yes! Just like that. Fuck me like you hate me.” If he wasn’t already dead, you would kill him. He was an alluring monster-- hauntingly beautiful and wicked all at once. You were drawn to him in ways that you could never comprehend, nor explain. The sad truth is that you were no more to him than a form of entertainment. He was an enigma, tempting you with his mystery and promises of wonder, but underneath it all was a sadistic and malevolent being, whose interest in you was limited and not at all sentimental. He made you feel weak-- helpless to his meaningless advances and you hated him for it. And yet… what angered you most of all was that you found yourself genuinely caring for him… and it would never be reciprocated in return.

Luckily for you, there was a way to escape those nagging thoughts, and it was by being completely fucked out by the demon. The pain of his harsh movements mixed beautifully with the pleasure it brought, and you were overwhelmed by the ecstasy of it all. Crying out with wanton moans, your body shook uncontrollably as his suit rubbed up against your clit, causing an unbelievable friction as his cock brushed against the deepest parts of you. He noticed you rutting against him in a way to earn more clit stimulation, so he reached down and began massaging against you in small circles with the pads of his fingers. The action caused you to practically scream as you bent your head forward and bit harshly into his shoulder to muffle your loud noises, probably bruising his skin even through his jacket.

“A-Alastor. I can’t… oh fuck, I-I’m--,” you couldn’t even finish the words before your body flooded with bliss, your climax hitting you so abruptly that your knees gave out and you nearly blacked out from the intensity.

He continued to fuck you with abandon, chasing after his own release as you soon became over-sensitized, tears rolling down your face from the sensations.

Resting his cheek against yours, you could distinctly hear the little pants and grunts escaping his throat. They were sounds of vulnerability that were reserved only for you in moments like these-- a genuine rarity. Alastor didn’t petition for sex often, and he especially didn’t partake in having multiple partners. You were honestly surprised that he wanted to fuck anyone ever considering he hardly showed interest in the activity, but when he immersed himself in it… fuck if you didn’t reap the benefits. Slapping the palms of his hands against the wall on both sides of you, his body shuddered as he released an especially loud groan, reaching his high. Heavy spurts of his demonic seed lined your cervix as he continued to convulse, his orgasm lasting longer than anyone you had ever been with. He had rested his head in the crook of your neck, seemingly forgetting about your fight for a moment before he pulled out of you, still breathless and smirking as he watched the remnants of his hot cum drip down your legs. “What a pitiful creature you are. I imagine it must make you feel utterly wretched getting off on the hatred you supposedly feel for me. I wonder if there is anyone else who can bring you to the brink of death and back like I can.”

Fuck that goddamned arrogance. You fought so hard to put him in his place, and instead you got completely fucked-- both figuratively and literally. Your entire body had ached and would be sore for the next week. It made you wonder if the intense orgasms you got from him were even worth it.

Your heated glare was met with an unforgiving sneer as he straightened out his jacket, which had been wrinkled during your interaction. “Let me be as clear as I can be,” he spoke candidly, though his eyes were filled with warning. “You belong to me.”

Narrowing your eyes at him, you bent down to pick up the shredded remains of your panties before you stepped around him to leave. As you reached the door frame, you paused to turn and speak over your shoulder as nonchalantly as possible before walking out.

“Keep telling yourself that.”

#alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #anonymous #anon ask #prompt list #smut #the radio demon

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maerrybom · 5 years ago

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Divine Punishment

ok so if you haven’t reached chapter 4 yet then these contain spoilers !! otherwise continue reading or not, but this is kind of emotional and a bit scary?? idk;; trigger warning: short mention of blood ?? i’ll add the trigger warning to where it would be located

Sol’s Route

“Caesar watch out!”

“Luminous stop!”

Fire raged around them, turning everything into dust & ashes with its fiery touch. The tension was as thick as ice, but Sol’s flaming anger fueled within her gentle soul and overshadowed the numbing exhaustion building up in her muscles.

“Move away—!”

A loud, ringing gunshot echoed across the area as the bullet pierced through Sol’s abdomen with ease. But she luckily managed to push both Luminous & Caesar out of the way when she chose to take the fall. The atmosphere stilled down with a heavy bombshell; everyone’s thoughts were erratic but silence stuffed their mouths shut.

[trigger warning!]

The youngest slowly fell on her knees as her knees buckled beneath her, clutching the bullet wound with her pale, dainty hand while trying to keep herself steady with the other on the ground. A dull pain lingered at her wound; Sol tried to ease her breathing by calming down her nerves. If she panicked, she’d lose more blood and die quickly. However, Sol couldn’t help but stare intensely at her blood coated hand. The rich, crimson liquid seeped through her fingers and she quivered at the stickiness of it.

[end of trigger warning!]

Immediately, Caesar rushed and kneeled to her side, gripping onto her shoulders to hold her up against him. Johann caught Luminous by the arm when Sol pushed him away, but both were too shocked & frazzled to realise what just occurred.

“Caesar... Everyone... You all must go... Get away from here...—” Sol whimpered, using every single energy she had left to speak.

“Don’t be stupid! We’re not leaving you here!” Caesar shouted, “That was reckless of you...! What have you done!?”

However, the sound of maniacal laughter from “MonkeyFace” interrupted the scene and this caused everyone to glare at him in anger. Sol could sense Caesar’s misery and distress increase. Not only did he fail saving Makoto and witness her death right before his eyes, he had to face Sol’s too. She hated how heartbroken he looked; it didn’t suit his features at all.

To end everything at once, Sol quickly made a decision to prevent everyone from acting any further. Slowly, she raised her hand towards the villain as it shook achingly with every movement, feeling her muscles tense.

“Stop moving—”

“Extra skill,” Sol whispered. “Heaven’s gate..!”

And with a command, the ground instantly shook beneath them and caused MonkeyFace to swallow down the silence emitted. Sol’s azure eyes glowed menacingly and stared daggers at the man. Strange, dark markings began to surround and circle his fallen form while he visibly shook in pure confusion and fear.

“W-What’s going on? Shouldn’t we run?” Luminous exclaimed.

But, all they could do was stay quiet and watch the scene unfold.

Long, charcoal-coated hands erupted from the ground around MonkeyFace as their sharp talons glowered, judging the poor man’s tale. The man began to cry bloody murder when the disfigured hands began to claw and hold his limbs down. They shook violently & danced around him like moths’ attraction to a flame, before pulling/dragging the screaming man into the ground. The unknown markings faded away and the ground stopped shaking, leaving no evidence behind. And with that, he was gone. For good.

Sol’s hand then dropped to the ground as she felt her eyes beginning to fail her. The nightmarish scene burned into their minds, failing to comprehend what she had done. Did she realise she killed a person—a living human being?

Luminous slapped himself on the head and rushed to the girl’s side: “Sol, don’t fall asleep yet!”

Caesar snapped out of his trance and stared down at the semi-conscious girl in his arms. Sol forced herself to look up at him, peeking through her heavy eyelids but all she saw was his shiny blue orbs—ones that reminded her of too much.

“Renata...”

“Caesar, there’s a van coming towards our way.” Johann informed, trying to keep his stoic composure but it was quite obvious he was incredibly concerned about his junior’s well-being.

As the van arrived, a man dressed up in host clothes stepped out. He claimed to be from Takamagahara and offered them a place to stay, hidden away from the public and the Hydra clan. They complied and accepted his offer; Sol’s life was at stake. This was their only choice.

“Sol, hang in there...” Luminous whispered.

Caesar carried the fallen girl bridal style as they climbed into the van hastily while being careful with her wound. Once they were settled, Johann pulled out a medical kit to stop Sol from bleeding out and finally injected her with a serum.

“I should’ve... Sol would’ve been fine. I’m sorry—” Luminous couldn’t find the words to say, but he was cut off by the blonde.

“No,” Caesar said. “There is no one to blame.”

Luminous tried to protest, but Johann gripped his shoulder and shook his head, causing the brunette to keep quiet. Caesar then looked down at the girl sleeping soundly in his arms. She looked terrifyingly pale as if she was waiting for her soul to be lured in by death himself. Everything was a blur, but they all saw everything as bright as day. It was a hard pill to swallow.

For him, a Gattuso must always be a protector, a guardian, someone who stood on the front-lines—a noble hero. Not only did Sol save Luminous’ life, she saved him too.

“Why did you do it? For what..?”

For her, she was an orphan, an experiment, someone who needed to be sacrificed for the end of mankind. He had everything; she had nothing. She’s just the bait. Getting rid of a nobody will make no difference in this world.

As harsh as it sounds, her death may just save everyone else.

Everyone, but her.

#dragon raja #dragon raja writing #dragon raja caesar #dragon raja luminous #dragon raja johann chu #caesar gattuso #my writing #i just had to write angst huh #literally made sol recently and just tried to kill her wow me

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sideoffiction · 6 years ago

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The Need to Lie

Relationship: Platonic DLAMP

Warnings: Dysphoria, Unintentional Misgendering, spoilers for Agatha Christie's And Then There Were None, Deceit might be a little OOC, idk

Summary: Deceit is the embodiment of lies: any lie Thomas has ever told, or ever will tell, is placed onto Deceit. But this. This is a lie Deceit wishes didn’t have to be told, a secret that didn’t have to be hidden. Deceit wishes that this truth could be screamed across rooftops. But instead, it is kept hidden from everyone: from the other sides and even Thomas. And it breaks her heart.

Me: Look at all of these fics I can work on right now My Brain: Trans Deceit Me: Whaa? My Brain: Trans. Deceit.

Just a warning: I know nothing about women’s clothing, so if the outfit doesn’t make sense, don’t yell at me.

This is also posted on AO3, I’ll post the link in a reblog.

I hope yall enjoy, at least a little.

Deceit is the embodiment of lies: any lie Thomas has ever told, or ever will tell, is placed onto Deceit. But this. This is a lie Deceit wishes didn’t have to be told, a secret that didn’t have to be hidden. Deceit wishes that this truth could be screamed across rooftops. But instead, it is kept hidden from everyone: from the other sides and even Thomas. And it breaks her heart.

Deceit doesn’t quite remember when she figured it out. All she remembers is one day, she knew who she really was, and she didn’t know what to do from there. But, of course, she had to keep up her image, and so she suffered and showed nothing but a lie whenever she saw others.

She kept it hidden pretty well, only showing her true self behind closed doors. It was easy when she was a dark side. But then, she slowly started showing up more and more in the light side of the mind, and soon she became a part of them. When that happened, she started being able to show herself less and less. The only time she had was when she would wake up before the others and she would wear her favorite clothes and do her makeup and hair. Sometimes, she would do it at night, when she can’t sleep, as a way of relaxing. She would stare into the mirror when she is done, looking at her true self, and feel a pang of sadness at the thought that she can’t be like this all the time.

Today was just like any day. Deceit wakes up at an ungodly hour, and starts her day. She sits at her vanity, and starts to do her makeup. She hums softly, some musical Thomas has been listening to non-stop lately. When she finishes her makeup, almost an hour later (don’t judge her, she goes all out at every opportunity she gets), she starts to pick out her outfit. She goes for a simple crop top and jean shorts. Today feels like a simple outfit day, despite only being able to wear the outfit for an hour tops.

Deceit lays back down on her bed, and stares up at the ceiling. What else can she do? She can’t exactly leave the room like this. Who knows what the others would say if they saw her. They would probably kick her out, and back into the dark side of the mind. Deceit can picture it now.

Roman with pure rage as he grabs his sword and forces her out of the light side.

Virgil with a look of pure disgust on his face as he sits by watching.

The sound of Logan talking about how illogical it is that Thomas could have a female side, despite being male.

And Patton, sitting there, not saying anything, looking at her with a disappointed look in his eyes.

No. Deceit can’t tell them. They can never know.

Deceit feels a slight movement in the mindscape, letting her know that there is another side awake. She sighs. She doesn’t want to get dressed but she has to. Deceit shuts her eyes tightly and snaps her fingers. When she peers out again, she can’t help the disappointment she feels upon seeing her usual outfit. She knows that if she looks in the mirror she will have the same result: all of her makeup will be gone and she’ll look like her usual self. She takes a deep breath, closes her eyes once more, and sinks out of her room.

She pops into the kitchen, where the first thing she notices is the sound and smell of coffee brewing in the pot on the counter. She glances around and sees Logan sitting at the counter, engrossed in some book. He hasn’t noticed her yet, even as she makes her way over to the now finished coffee, and pours two mugs. She adds cream and sugar to one, and leaves the other black. She grabs the one with cream and sugar and brings it over to Logan, placing it down in front of him. She watches as he looks up with a surprised look on his face.

“Thank you, Deceit. I hadn’t noticed that you had arrived, nor did I notice that the coffee was done.” He looks down at his coffee and frowns slightly. “I’m sorry, but I actually prefer my coffee black.”

Deceit stares into Logan’s eyes with an unimpressed look, as if to say “are you serious?” Logan sighs, and picks up the coffee.

“I apologize, I sometimes forget that you are the literal embodiment of lies, and thus know when I am lying.”

“It’s not fine” Deceit replies softly, going back to grab her own coffee. She takes a sip as she walks back over to Logan, relishing the bitter taste. She sits down next to him, and glances at the book he is reading once more: And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie. He seems pretty far into the book, it is quite possible that he has already figured out who the murderer is. Still…

“The murderer isn’t Wargrave.” She says with a smirk. Logan looks up at her and smirks as well.

“I had already figured out as much, but thank you for the insightful information into the novel.”

“It’s a problem.” They fall into a comfortable silence as Deceit drinks her coffee and watches Logan read the book. Logan just about finishes the book by the time another side pops into the kitchen. It’s Patton, who tiredly makes his way over to the coffee machine to make his own coffee. He pours as much cream and sugar as he can without causing the mug to overflow, then makes his way over to the two of them. He does a double take when he notices Logan’s mug, which is still halfway full, Logan being too engrossed in the book to drink it.

“Logan, I thought you only liked black coffee.” Deceit has to hide her smile as Logan tries to come up with an excuse.

“Uh, you see Patton… Deceit here made my coffee this morning, and he doesn’t know how I like it. I didn’t want to be rude and not drink it.” Patton, still a little tired, takes a minute to process what was said, but when he does, he smiles.

“Aw, Logan, you do care!.” Logan sputters slightly at that, and tries to deny it, but Deceit shakes her head, to show just how much of a lie it would be. Logan backs down, and just grumbles to himself.

As the morning progresses, and the other two sides make an appearance, the kitchen slowly becomes a place of life and noise. But the more people there, the more people there are to tell a lie.

“Can you ask Dee if he wants pancakes or waffles?”

“He said it doesn’t matter.”

“Can you ask him if he wants any special toppings?”

“He says he doesn’t care.”

He, he, he. It’s all Deceit hears. And she wants so badly to say something, but she knows she can’t. She just has to deal with this everyday reality for as long as she possibly can.

Later on in the day, Thomas decides to do a video.

“What is up everybody?” is heard throughout the mindscape, as the sides listen in anticipation, hoping for an opportunity to turn the video into a Sanders Sides video. Deceit decides to tune it all out, as she is rarely ever needed for videos, even since being accepted by the light sides. Because of this, she is caught of guard when she is summoned into the real world.

She looks around as the other sides look at her expectantly. She tilts her head in confusion. “I totally know what is going on right now.”

“Thomas here summoned us because he has been feeling weird lately. He’s also had a sudden urge to make a video on respecting pronouns, and while Roman claims it wasn’t his idea, we decided to do it anyway.”

“And why wasn’t I summoned for this?”

“Well kiddo, first things first, we want to know your pronouns!”

Deceit stares confused. Why would they ask her for her pronouns? She just assumed that they all believed that all the sides were he/hims because Thomas is. Logan notices her confusion and provides some insight.

“As previously mentioned, Thomas has been feeling weird, and we believe this urge for a pronouns video has something to do with it. Maybe, if we all discuss our pronouns, as well as our friends’ pronouns, we may be able to get to the bottom of whatever is making him feel this way.” Deceit nods as it is explained to her, it all makes sense. The problem is, Deceit can’t get out of this through lying. If she tries to speak, the lie that would come out would be he/him, instead of the she/her lie that they would expect.

“So kiddo, what pronouns do you use?”

Deceit could get out of this by not saying anything, by ignoring the question and sinking out as soon as she can. But she knows that would just make them curious, and cause them to stop at nothing to figure it out. Or maybe her not responding would be just as telling as her saying it aloud. Maybe, just maybe, if she says it, they will forget that she can only tell lies, and believe it to be the truth. What other choice does she have?

“He/him” She replies as inconspicuous as she can. Please work, please work, please work...

“See Thomas, there is nothing to worry about here” Roman exclaims from his corner. “We are all he/him, and we all respect that about each other. So it cannot be us that is making you, eh… queasy, in a sense.”

Deceit tries hard to hide the sigh of relief that escapes her body. By the looks of it, she believes she has succeeded. That is until-

“Hold it.” Virgil replies from the stairs. The others halt their conversation and look over to Virgil. “Did you guys seriously miss that just now?”

“What is it now, Conspiracy Theory?”

“Deceit can only speak lies.” Deceit freezes at this and curses silently. Of course Virgil would be the one to pick it up, he’s known her the longest after all. They all stare at her, expecting her to say something, anything, but she can’t. She opens her mouth, but can’t seem to form the words that she wants to say. So she opts to not speak at all, and sinks out of the room as quickly as she can. She pops up into her room, and locks the door.

She goes and lays on her bed. What can she do now? By now, one of them has put together the pieces, and they’re probably up there right now trying to figure out how to get rid of her and send her back to the dark side of the mind. Maybe if she’s lucky, they’ll do it as nicely as possible. She feels tears start to well up in her eyes.

A soft knocking sounds throughout the room. Deceit holds her breath. “Kiddo?”

They sent the nicest side to send the worst possible news.

Deceit wipes her eyes and gets up, walking over to the door and opening it slightly. She sticks her head out slightly. “I don’t get it, ok. I’ll unpack my things and stay.”

“What are you saying Dee?”

“I’m saying that you guys want me here. I don’t understand.”

“Dee, no that’s not it at all. Can I come in please?”

Deceit opens the door all the way, and lets Patton in. She goes over and sits on her bed. Patton follows behind, and sits down next to her. They are quiet for a while, until Patton eventually speaks up.

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I knew you guys would accept me. I’m not a part of Thomas, I shouldn’t be the same gender as him.”

“You shouldn’t have to be!” Deceit looks up in shock at him. “Just because Thomas is one thing, doesn’t mean you have to be. You can be whatever the hell you want, and we’d still accept you.”

Deceit doesn’t know what to say. She continues to stare at Patton in shock. Tears build up into her eyes, this time falling freely down her cheeks.

“Oh, kiddo.” Patton suddenly pulls her into a hug. She sobs into his shoulder as he soothingly rubs her back.

“Let me tell you something kiddo.” Patton whispers to her through the hug. “You’re not quite the only one.”

Deceit pulls back slightly to look at him through tear blurred eyes. He notices the confusion on her face and continues. “I may not understand fully, I still use he/him pronouns so I don’t know everything you’re going through, but I do understand wanting to be more feminine. There have been many times when I’m in my room and I would wear a dress, just because it’s comfortable or just feels right. And I’ve also caught Roman quite a few times trying to do his makeup while wearing some sort of skirt. So, you have nothing to be ashamed of. We might not be quite like you, but we definitely won’t shun you for being you.”

Patton makes sure to look her dead in the eyes when he speaks next. “We love you, kiddo.”

He pulls her into a tight hug once more, letting her get all of her tears out.

That night, Deceit and Patton talk to the other sides (and Thomas) face to face, explaining why she ran off earlier. As Patton said, they were quick to accept her, not questioning it in the slightest. If that is what made Deceit comfortable and happy, then who are they to stop her. When Deceit finally made it to her room that night, she laid in bed for a while, processing everything that happened. Then she realized.

Tomorrow she can present as she wants in front of the others.

Deceit wakes up the next morning feeling... well, she doesn’t really know how to feel. Today is a big day, after all. She goes about her normal routine, putting a little more effort than usual into what she wears. She takes as much time as possible on her makeup, and spends forever figuring out what to wear. In the end, she ends up putting on a yellow snakeskin skirt, and a black top.

It’s not too long before Deceit feels movement in the mindscape. She smiles. She shuts her eyes tightly, and snaps her finger. When she opens her eyes, her outfit has been covered slightly by her cape, and her gloves and hat have appeared (she does still have an image to uphold, after all). She knows, however, that if she were to look into a mirror, her makeup will still be there. She closes her eyes again, takes a deep breath, and sinks out of the room.

When Deceit pops up into the kitchen, the situation is relatively the same as the previous day. Coffee sits waiting to be poured as Logan once again reads a book at the counter. Deceit goes over and pours two cups of coffee, bringing the sweetened one over to Logan. When she places it down, Logan looks up, less surprised than the day before about her being there and her making him his coffee. He doesn’t even say anything about how the coffee is made. However, his eyes widen in shock for a second when he notices what Deceit is wearing. Deceit nervously waits for what Logan will say about her outfit, or about her in general.

“You look nice, Dee.” is all he says, before taking a sip of his coffee. Deceit breathes a soft sigh of relief, and mumbles a quick “no thank you”, before going over and grabbing her own coffee.

She glances at the book Logan is reading when she gets back to the counter. It’s not a mystery this time, so there is nothing for her to really spoil. Instead she just sits, drinks her coffee, and watches him read silently.

Patton is the next side to arrive. He tiredly makes his coffee and walks over to them. He smiles slightly when he notices Logan’s coffee, the same as yesterday. It is then that he notices Deceit. All tiredness falls from his face as he takes her in.

“Aw, kiddo, you look so cute!” He says, rushing up to her.

“Be careful, Patton.You do not want to spill your coffee, do you?”

“Sorry, Lo.” Patton replies, slowing down and stopping in front of Deceit. “Dee, you look Dee-lightful! I love your outfit! . Oh, I would love to try it on sometime! Maybe we can play dress up together! Ooh ooh, maybe Roman could even join us!”

Deceit doesn’t know how to react; she’s not used to so much attention, especially to her outfit. Before she can say anything, Logan speaks up.

“Patton please, can’t you see that you are overwhelming Dee?” Patton then notices Deceit’s slightly uncomfortable look.

“Oops, sorry kiddo.” Patton sits down at the counter, next to them, trying to keep himself calm. They all fall into comfortable silence as they all drink their coffees and wake up more. Later on, Roman and Virgil show up. They both looked shocked at Deceit’s outfit, Roman more than Virgil.

“Look at you, Dee-who-cried-wolf! I love your outfit. And by gosh, your makeup! You have to show me how you apply it sometime! And...” Deceit zones out as Roman starts going on a tangent.She looks over to Virgil, who gives her a small smile and a thumbs up. She smiles back at him.

The morning progresses as usual, but Deceit can feel the difference. And it’s a difference that means the world to her.

“Can you ask Dee what she wants for breakfast?”

Yeah, she can get used to this.

#deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #platonic dlamp #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #trans deceit

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left-lmao · 5 years ago

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Him ppg headcannon 3 (new)

Well he most likely maybe don’t receive any love because most people already see him as the devil/the evilest of evil so why should they give love to such a “””monster”””

I feel like he never meant to become what he is today, maybe in the past he was abused and mistreated by the professor and maybe was used for lab experiments. In my AU HIM gets scorpions and do experiments on them to make them look kinda like himself so idk I feel like the professor did the same with HIM or maybe him was created from hate. But he hates the PPG for a reason and he hates Townsville for a reason probably because the PPG received more love from every citizen in Townsville including the professor and him probably despise seeing that so he destroys Townsville to make everyone fear him and that’s a way to get the attention he is looking for. I see he loves to be with bubbles and I’m sure it’s because she’s easily taken over and she don’t really like hurting anyone. As seen in him diddle riddle him didn’t

Him didn’t hurt the girls at all which shows that him can be good and just wants to have fun, also in the official PPG comics he has helped the PPG defeat some villains, I feel like he can be good/anti hero but since he have all the stress within him he loses it at the wrong time (as seen he is quite bipolar in the show, he’s happy then he’s pissed) he also talks to his rubber ducky which cannot really speak to him back so that’s how you can also tell he has no one to tell his problems to so he tells it to his duck. Him wants everyone to hate the PPG probably because they always beat him up and he feels more confident about himself when everyone is hating the PPG, he gains strength with the hate which is what he desires to.(Also forgot to add this before but I also think the reason why he have green eyes it’s probably the shot he got during experiment or because he is poisonous that’s why it’s that venomous colored bright green,and cuz he turns into a giant scorpion thing in powernoia)

Him probably despise love so much more maybe after lots of people offering to help him and gave up on him after all the rage he has thrown out at them. He’s a demon he cannot control his emotions, it’s hard to understand the meaning of happiness and love when he never really received it and probably when he did he didn’t trust anyone anymore because of all the times they promise to stay to help him they gave up on him for being what he is. I think causing chaos is the only thing that can make him release his stress and makes him feel happy, he can take over the world if he wants but he mostly wants Townsville, again like I said before is probably because townsville is a strong loving place and they probably did something to him in the past so him wants revenge, and also the fact in that one comic that all the villains received a second chance while him didn’t so that’s why he don’t believe he’ll ever get that “love” he needs. So fear, chaos, pain is his only pleasure to do to help him

While he is doing his chaos that’s his stress relief, who would want to hear any problems from a guy like him? All the bad things spread around about him he can’t really talk to anyone he can with some villains but he probably don’t cuz he don’t wanna look weak so he tries to do things on his own to prove he’s stronger than any villain there, which he technically is. Him is also capable to adopt kids so technically he kinda likes kids ig? He wanted to make the RRB better and stronger and he was very proud of them for what they did and said that he even cried happily.

And also him uses people’s fears to scare them just like he did in powernoia

And just like in the reboot the 4 PPG used love on him and made him disappear for a lonnnnng time which is seen to be his biggest weakness, but like anyone, anyone can overcome their fear just like buttercup did with the spiders and such, so why can’t him? I believe maybe in the end they can all become antiheroes but he just needs that second

Chance to prove himself maybe he can do things that everyone can notice him, maybe he can even beat up bad guys like in the comic, he looked so happy when he did that.

Oh yea and also in him diddle riddle I’m sure professor and him have a kind of bond, him could have strangled the professor right there if he wanted but all he did was offer free breakfast but the PPG failed to complete the missions. Later professor told him “IM NEVER EATING HERE AGAIN!” Which obviously some sort offended HIM, him rubs after the professor with a nervous look saying “WAIT WAIT ILL MAKE MY FLAPJACKS CHEEPER!” Which makes everyone think there’s something between those two, they probably was good friends in the past? Why would him even offer free breakfast especially to the professor if he hates the professor and the PPG. I feel like maybe he’s trying to regain the professors trust but it’s very hard to since him do not really know how to control himself/ the evil he have within him which causes him to do

Bizarre things.

So who knows ;v;...

so that’s probably it for now until I think of more things

But yea that’s why I think/my headcannon he hates love and don’t receive it

#him #himppg #powerpuff girls him #powerpuffgirls #ppg #ppghim #villain #cartoon #cute #headcannon #headcannons #ppgheadcannon #ppgheadcannons #villains #sad #theories #ppgtheories

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ralfstrashcan · 6 years ago

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3x15 Reaction / Commentary

........who died and made her queen? Literally no one finds it weird that the newby from a day ago holds announcements and motivational speeches? And I thought vampires don't like swift changes. Guess that was racist of me.

..................?? Literally who has ever denied the vampires entry? Except maybe the shadowhunters to their Institute and the werewolves to their home-restaurant? So she's basically saying “If anyone doesn't want us in their private homes we'll break and enter!” How is no one calling her out on how stupid that is??

hahaha how long did she work on that line?

........? Why? Because up until this point I was under the impression that the Accords where strictly restricted to governing the border between shadow world and mundanes, keeping them separate and protecting mundanes from demon and downworlder attacks alike.

If you care to remember, the whole mess with helping-save-Luke / not-helping-save-Luke in season 1 happens because Alec says shadowhunters aren't allowed to interfere in downworlder affairs, hence saving Luke would be seen as shadowhunters meddling in downworlder business which isn't a thing shadowhunters are allowed to do. It's why him going to lend Magnus his magic to save Luke was a Big Deal for him, because it was basically breaking the rules. It's why he was so against Jace and Clary helping Luke in the first place, because interfering is – at least the way I understood that! – a breach of the Accords, which grant downworlders the right to govern themselves.

In basically all other situations where there are conflicts between downworlders we don't see shadowhunters interfere: Luke beating Taito-or-however-he-was-called into submission, Camille being put into a coffin in the DuMort's cellar indefinitely for reasons. I'd even let myself be convinced that these might be exceptions, since those are ritualized thingies where downworlders decide who gets to rule, and so the shadowhunters aren't allowed to interfere even if their respective election systems consist of battle to the death / whoever wants to revolt revolts.

But how do you then explain all the other instances: Simon getting that Glen werewolf guy into a wheelchair and never facing any consequences except Luke scolding him a little, Simon fighting to the death with Quinn which never gets investigated, and don't even get me started on the seelie queen because she does shit however she wants to whoever she wants, kidnapping random werewolves and holding them hostage, putting marks of cains on unsuspecting daylighters, openly siding with Valentine, etc. and no shadowhunter ever cares about any of this! Not to mention that when Jace first encounters Jordan, he clearly recognizes his authority as Praetor and withdraws, indicating that the Praetor are an established and known organisation who deal with downworder affairs, and shadowhunters have to steer clear of them. Even Kaelie who murdered shadowhunters wasn't sentenced by shadowhunters! She was transfered back to the seelie court after she was captured and the seelie queen dealt with her as she saw fit. To me that simply fortifies that shadowhunters don't govern downworlder-downworlder-relations. If they don't even govern downworlder-shadowhunter-relations.

Besides, if shadowhunters really were supposed to police downworlder-downworlder-relations then please explain to me why the hell it's always treated like an invasion and an insolence if a downworlder dares to come close to the Institute? I mean, shouldn't there be a contact point for them to get in touch with their executive forces? Wtf??

So I guess this is just a random curveball the show throws my way to make this episode's plot work. And really, this is bullshit. I can't accept this. It's one thing to bend and twist portal travel and magic because, whatever, it's magic. But to just 100% turn around their entire frikkin legal system is not something you can just do! No!!

He 100% nicked that horse statue thingy from Magnus's loft to make him feel more at home in his room.

Also, I get that this is a cute parallel with the orange juice, but I also get that this is the show again depriving me of seeing Magnus and Alec actually waking up in bed together and it's NOT OKAY. I just want to finally see Alec “Little Spoon” Lightwood in action, is that too much to ask? Apparently -.-

Also, I have questions. If Alec is just putting on his day clothes.... did he go fetch Magnus's orange juice bare-chested? In his pyjama??? Does he have one with little bows and arrows? I need answers!!!

Rude hahaha, as if living with Magnus was a strenuous, orange-juice-less experience. Kidding, I know he's trying to make living at the Institute palatable to Magnus, quite literally.

I know I wasn't the only one who had severe Pirates of the Caribbean flashbacks at that because after the sneak peek aired I saw a gifset pointing out the parallel XD

Also

MAGNUS'S FACE Btw I think it's sweet that Alec spouts reassurances none of them buys just to make Magnus feel comfortable. Just like it's sweet that he brings Magnus a glass of orange juice that they both proceed to ignore, and to add insult to injury, Magnus gets himself a new one later. Rude.

Okay, so the runes we see here are the nourishment rune (blue), the sharing rune (green) and of course the stamina rune (yellow).... so shadowhunters know to eat real hard. And also... those two tiny tables are supposed to be enough to sustain all those people? With only drinks? Is this some perfidious game where shadowhunters just get drinks and need to feed themselves with nourishment runes? Barbaric.

Yeah I'm in the mood for pancakes now, too, thanks.

I'd like to repeat my question from last episode: If Sentry Guy wasn't planning for his untimely demise, how the hell did he want to hand over that data chip?

Okay but do you realize how amazing and hilarious that is? Because Izzy just came from the serving counter. If she wanted bacon she could have gotten some. But she didn't. To me this looks like routinely stolen food, maybe even just because it's on Jace's plate. This is something that happens regularly and I love it. Need more sibling-y Jace&Izzy interactions honestly!

Also? Izzy missing the piece of bacon on the first try hahaha <3<3<3

Can we please take a moment to appreciate Magnus's absolutely disgusted face and the fact that he carrys that tray with minimal finger contact? Hilarious.

1) I too was wondering why they didn't just go out for breakfast to avoid this situation, so I'm glad they mention that this option has crossed the protagonists' minds as well. 2) Why do they already have beverages on their trays when the refreshment tables with the glasses are off to the side? Possibly so they don't have to run around stupidly?

!!!!!!!!!What other food events are there??????? I need to know okay!!! Also, I think we can all agree that Alec isn't in it for the pancakes but to Prove A Point.

Also, quick question: Who the hell mans the serving counter, who cooks, who cleans the dishes, who buys groceries, who--- etc.

You know what I was just wondering? This is a new outfit, right? Has he moved all of his clothes to Alec's room? Or are they still in this apartment? What's Lorenzo gonna do with all that stuff? And also, do they really expect me to believe Magnus only had this one apartment and literally no other home anywhere? He couldn't have rune!portaled literally anywhere else? He couldn't have stayed with the ever elusive Catarina? Or crashed on Luke's couch since he's not currently using his apartment, being in jail and all? (Though to be fair, we never actually see Luke's apartment so who knows if it even exists? Since they kind of pretend that all werewolves live at the Jade Wolf.) Magnus couldn't have gotten a hotel? I mean he has cash, right? But sure. I'm totally buying that this was the absolutely only option he had.

Izzy is the best and I love her.

So is he supposed to step in as racist, now that Raj is gone? Cuz that'd be unrealistic. I'd buy it if he's miffed that Alec didn't tell him about this, since he's Head of Security and all and could have helped but istg if he reacts badly to Magnus being there I'm gonna flip my shit because Underhill totally ships Malec, okay, why would he react badly?? I'm anxious okay.

“They don't see a lot of warlocks in here.”

HAHAHAHAHAHAH OMG the sass!!!!!

I noticed this in the sneak peek already and honestly, I think the shadowhunters are just angry Magnus is there because he gets to eat fancier stuff than they. I mean, look at him! He even changed the shape of the glass because he's so extra. Love him.

Hahahaha who doesn't want to get a call from jail over breakfast from their father figure. Also I feel like those roles should be reversed XD

I mean, I get it. But thanks, Luke, for not relaying the crucial detail that this was Heidi or at least that Maia is still alive and to contact her for further info since he's in jail, and thus enabling everything that follows. It's not like he told Simon and Maia to drive off with Jordan because he'd handle filling in the Institute on all that happened. Honestly. He's like that one guy in group projects who says he'd do something and then just.. doesn't.

..............................................why Look I don't have the energy to rage about this but wtf Luke. If you think anyone would buy all those fang marks being caused by one person alone, then why not try to get the actual culprit to be imprisoned? Or at least, idk, investigated after to gain some time? Honestly. It's like he wants to go to jail.

Hahahaha okay this is too good an opportunity to pass up, so please go read the dumb drabble I wrote about this exact situation shortly after 3A aired. It's here.

Btw I wanna see that verdict. Because Luke's prints sure as hell aren't on the corpses, and keep in mind any forensic worth a damn should be able to notice that those people died half a day before Luke was found on the site of the crime. Not to mention that since Luke frequented the Jade Wolf it's not exactly surprising he'd want to check up on all his homies there. Not to mention he has zero motive (since his fallout with the pack is so recent nobody not involved would have noticed). And not to mention that he wouldn't even have had time to kill all those people in the 3 minutes after he arrived at the Jade Wolf and before his surveillance team caught up to him. Just, sigh.

Edit: Wow actually they're gonna find his prints all over the corpses because Luke, in his unending wisdom, touched them all to close their eyes. It's like he learned nothing in How To Not Get Imprisoned For Crimes You Didn't Commit 101.

Great Scene. Very relatable.

Though I gotta say I never got the feeling Maia particularly liked any of her packmates since we always only saw them hating on her for dating a vampire and being general idiots, but I'm gonna ignore that right now. It's easily arguable that their happy pack life together wasn't shown because it wasn't relevant to the plot.

And also.... how did they find the Praetor? Isn't their location top secret? How should I imagine that? Was Jordan lying in the backseat half dead, shouting instructions “Turn left now!! No, not your left, my left! Turn right dammit!!” Wtf.

RIGHT BACK AT YOU IZZY FFS. *sigh* Okayyyyy technically Clary killed him, but Izzy didn't react with all the indignated outrage she displays now and I vividly remember this and I already ranted about this at length after 3x04 aired. I'm so done with her attitude on this.

Since when does Alec accept the “I wasn't in control” excuse? Either you were in control, then you go to jail. Or you weren't, then you go in a holding cell because you're an unpredictable danger. In no scenario do you get a free pass. Wtf.

??????????? You get talked into crossing against a red light, not into a frikkin sadistic hostage-taking, what the actual hell???? Why does Alec buy that???? Is he stupid????

...................................wtf Alec I hoped you'd do better this episode, but apparently not?? I mean, not investigating anything, just taking random person at her word, not even taking the time to talk with Izzy – even worse, showing in front of a third party that he didn't know about the Raphael* thing – and finally, basically him making that offer half-felt like he was trying to get back at Izzy for her keeping secrets from him? Wtf Alec? Wtf? And also, since the only werewolves left are Luke (currently in jail), Maia (currently missing in action) and Bat (currently at home like the neat little werewolf armcandy that he is) it's really not like Alec is under time pressure to get the vampires who killed all the werewolves behind bars. What's gonna happen if he takes a few hours to investigate properly? There is literally no risk of a war breaking out between werewolves and vampires since there are basically no werewolves left. Wtf Alec, I just robbed you of your already super flimsy excuse for your behavior, so please. Explain yourself. It's as if he wants to make up for last week's inaction by making super swift decisions. Wtf. If this is not Plot Convenience then I don't know what is.

*I guess Alec stopped holding those weekly downworld cabinet meetings or otherwise he would have noticed that Raphael is missing...... LOL or else maybe they want to tell us less than a week passed since 3x04 which, honestly, I WOULDN'T EVEN BE SURPRISED OKAY

Luke and Clary and Jace are so frikkin stupid. I mean, it's not like they were in this exact same situation in this exact same precinct in season 1 and remembered to turn of the frikkin security cams are you kidding me wtf

Self-fulfilling prophecy, Luke. Well frikkin done. I don't even feel sorry for you.

Actually they kicked you out because they new you didn't prioritize them, but sure. Survivor's guilt. I get it.

Anyway now that Luke is caught on tape talking to non-existent people about werewolves and vampires I guess he'll go to the psych ward instead of the jail, so yay for improvement?

Quick question.... after the cut, to they just awkwardly stand around until someone opens the door again so Jace and Clary can slip out?

WTF Underhill don't make me hate you.

Izzy: “Raphael is not a bad person. He just made a horrible mistake.” Alec: “He commited a gross violation of the Accords.” Izzy: “He's trying to turn his life around.” Alec: “It doesn't change what he did.”

And yet.............. Alec pardoned Heidi....................... and yet..................................... Izzy hates on Jordan........................................... It's like no one on this show is able to assess situations consistently while disregarding personal relations to the people involved. Really. I don't even really expect it from Izzy because she's too passionate for that. But I sure as hell expected better from Alec. Smh.

................................................................. What. What even. Because doing things by herself worked out so well last time. Because Alec totally acts like his trust in her judgement wasn't shaken by this revelation. Wtf Alec, why do you agree to this. It makes no sense.

?????????? this is not the Aline from 2x15

and that bothers me because 1) why recast her wtf and 2) I think 2x15 Aline looked more approachable and warm and yeah wtf why recast her. So from now on I'm calling this imposter “Aline”. I'm serious. Watch me.

Plot Twist: In German they are dubbed by the same dubbing actress.

Edit: Apparently they recast here because 2x15 Aline wasn't available due to scheduling conflicts which, okay, valid. But I'm still calling the imposter “Aline”. I've commited to it already, okay??

Alec, your arguemnt is still invalid because the only werewolf ready to wage war is standing right in front of you and you said yourself you thought she was dead. Wtf man.

YEAH ALEC AND FOR THAT REASON YOU WAIT BEFORE YOU STRIKE A DEAL WITH SUSPECTS WTF MAN YOU OVERTHINK EVERYTHING BUT IN THIS YOU DON'T HAVE TIME TO WAIT THREE FRIKKIN MINUTES ARE YOU ACTUALLY KIDDING ME-- I'm exasperated, in case you can't tell. Mainly because Alec assuming Maia is dead makes no sense whatsoever. She wasn't among the dead, so why would he assume she's dead instead of escaped? Why didn't he try to track her? Why didn't he try to call her himself? Why didn't they call ahead?!* So many questions, all answered with two words: Plot Convenience.

*Oh right, because they trusted Luke to tell the Institute everything. But my point still stands. This miscommunication is ridiculous.

Also, can we talk about the pacing? In the time Simon needs to drive his and Maia's ass over to the Institute, Heidi walks in, Alec draws up an amnesty and organizes a mission, they go to the DuMort, secure all the vamps, and bring them back into the Institute. Just how slow was Simon driving? Makes no sense. Wtf.

Uh-huh. Sure, Head of Security, why would you need to know that. Also, who made those keys? Are they lying around somewhere in a spare drawer? So many questions.

Good save, man. I can accept that. Seems he's trying to do his job. But still. The way he half-whispered insolently during that mission briefing strikes me as really not fitting his character. He calls Alec “Sir” dammit. As if he'd stoop to such cheap bitchy behavior, especially when it stands to reason that the shadowhunter he was whispering to doesn't respect Alec like Underhill does because, y'know, gay and dating a downworlder and the general tendency of shadowhunters to be biased and racist.

LOL I guess the first thing I can really appreciate about this episode is that they make an effort to bring back stuff from the past season???

Aha. Looks like someone felt the need to change.

Clary: “He somehow got it in that twisted head of his that I'm gonna help him find it.”

........did I miss that part? Because I sure don't recall it.

Well, Simon, then I hope you have a degree in psychology and don't ask any leading questions that make her useless as a witness. Also, be sure to carry your plan out while Alec isn't present so your story will be more credible and Alec won't think you encanto-ed her so she says what you need her to say to get Heidi behind bars. Since, you know, you and Maia are totally neutral when it comes to this investigation. It's always a great idea to conduct investigations yourself when you're completely unbiased and absolutely not involved in any way, with no personal stakes in the matter. SIGH.

This.... was actually unexpected. See, this is why I like Heidi as a villain. She is smart and she knows how to cover her tracks. And that whole plan to stir up werewolves and vampires against each other was expertedly executed (even if her defense in front of Izzy and Alec was a little weak and Griffin could have acted a little less stupid).

Hahahahaha Magnus. Tbh though, Alec knew Underhill would be in charge of setting Magnus up with a key, and the long amount he thought about what the hell Magnus meant makes me think he doesn't really think handsome = Underhill. Surely not after that haircut amiright ok sorry sorry I'm shutting up. Underhill is a handsome guy.

Ugh. Okay, honestly I don't want to do this. I want to say this was a cute scene and move on. But I just can't move past Alec's apology. Why the hell does he apologise? He did nothing wrong? It's his typical my-opinion-doesn't-count,-whatever-the-person-I-love-says-must-be-right-and-I-am-wrong spiel and I hate it. It would have been something else entirely if he'd said “I didn't know this bothered you so much, I won't do that again in the future if it's a problem to you.” Finding a compromise while recognizing that talking about his issues is his right, since Magnus didn't ask him to keep quiet about it. No matter how good he knows Underhill – and I agree with Magnus on that one, it was strange for Alec to talk about his problems with someone he barely knows, but at the time it was, oh surprise, Plot Convienience to bait some cheating angst – it was his right and with his apology

he basically asserts that it wasn't. Because of some misguided jealousy from Magnus. Magnus should protest this immediately but he doesn’t, he just lets it sit there and just..... argh!

Also another thing, since I saw some people getting worked up over it: Yes, I read the scene earlier in the way that Alec didn't realize Magnus was talking about Underhill because he finds him so super hot, but because context reasons. Still, even if he did find Underhill attractive... that's not a problem? It's part of interacting with someone and looking at their face while talking to them and by the way realizing “Wow, this person isn't fugly.” If he spent all his days oogling Underhill that would be something else entirely, but he obviously doesn't. So, even if his conclusion was “Handsome? Must be Underhill!” that wouldn't make him a bad person. We all know he only has eyes for Magnus.

*sigh* I'm a weak woman, okay, this placates me a little.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA I C A N ' T The fact that he thinks he needs to clarify!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Amazing.

I have so many questions. If she wakes up, will she hold her breath again? I honestly expected her to be dead after Heidi's order, but apparently encanto only takes hold of the person's actions while they are conscious. So this leads me to the question why the f Nora is in a coma instead of simply unconscious, since if your brain doesn't get oxygen you slip into unconsciousness, not coma wtf.

...............by? The shadowhunters on washing machine handling duty?? So many questions.

.........or just do it right away. Why wait?

!!!!!!!!!YES at least someone has common sense left this episode. It physically pains me that this person is Jonathan. Wtf, show.

1) Soooooo why is his magic suddenly blue again? Though it's slightly tinted so I guess one could argue that this is Magnus trying to cover up the ugly Lorenzo-color. 2) Did the nurse really let them all in? Are they using glamors? I need answers. 3) Won't this place be swarming with doctors as soon as she wakes up?

“This is Maia. If you're hearing this, it's because my phone's battery sucks.”

Hahaha, I approve.

Lol this is the other reason I like Heidi as a villain, she's cheeky.

That.......... WAS UNEXPECTED OH MY GOD WOOOW I DID NOT SEE THAT COMING!!! Color me impressed!!! And from Maia no less, who's always throw fists first, think straight later!!!

But..... while we saw where she got that syringe from I can't help but wonder where the hell she got that Holy Water from? Also how the hell did Simon, Magnus and Alec know in which back alley exactly she was hiding?? Guess we'll never know.

Soooooo whenever she stares into the flames she gets a Jonathan-possession-episode???? Okay??????? Why?????????????????? But anyway, the solution to their predicament seems clear: Just keep her away from fire. Then again they're shadowhunters, so compulsively lighting candles is a thing, so I see where this might get difficult.

You know, this scene would probabley even touch me emotionally if I wasn't busy muttering wtf under my breath because I'm still not over how they completely screwed over the Accords. With the way things were back in 3x04 what Izzy did in banishing Raphael was nothing more than an exceedance of competence. (Yes, Raphael deserves punishment for what he did, but not. from. Izzy.) And now suddenly it's a law-breaking act of compassion? Wtf, no, doesn't compute.

Also, as Bohemian pointed out: why the hell is Raphael's Dramatic Pre Jail Scene with Izzy instead of, idk, Magnus who's like a father to him and also at the Institute in this very moment?? Why do those two don't get any screen-time together when their relationship is more profound than, sorry, anything between Izzy and Raphael?? Tbh reducing Raphael to a pining mess who's only thinking about Izzy makes him feel real two-dimensional to me and he deserves wayyy better than that.

...................you know what? No!! Too late!! I've mentioned it in a past reaction post (from 3A I think) that I would have loved for this to be the reason they break up: Maia's okay-ness with ending a conflict through violence and Simon's relative patriotism. And even though this scene was everything I hoped for in this regard it still leaves a stale taste in my mouth because it's come too frakkin late. They are already broken up and their break up scene wasn't up to par. And why wasn't this their break up scene? Because if they'd been together up until now we couldn't have gotten the Jordan/Maia cuddling. Ugh.

Also this

would have certainly packed more of a punch if it came from someone who was consistently opinionated that way and wasn't randomly stricken by “I don't give a damn who gets injured, I have a gig to get to” moods (and yeah, I'm still not forgiving that, Simon).

Ohhhh no Magnus, stay away from that carpet, bad things will happen here, didn't you see the sneak peek????

WOW I am impressed, this is more than I expected so I'm really happy about this, especially since we all know how Magnus “It's all in the past” Bane normally deals with conflicts. You can see how much it costs him to get over himself and say this, and I love it. (What I don’t love is that Alec immediately glosses over this and barely even registers it but, whatever, that’s not Magnus's fault. He did what he should have done, and I’m happy about it.)

“Having an outsider live at the Institute, that is against protocol. And how can I expect everyone else to follow the rules if I don't follow them myself?”

I mean, I don't really think Maia would have refrained from her little murder plot if Magnus had spend the night at a hotel instead of in Alec's bed, but I recognize Alec at least attempting to be true to his rule-abiding, authority-acknowledging character for five seconds. So I'm somewhat semi-..... uh, quarter-proud of him.

Awwwww and Underhill just worked the whole day to get him settled in, the poor guy.

AGAIN WOW you can see how much courage it costs him to ask this after last half-season's moving-in-talk went so smoothly!!! I love it!!!

I LOVE IT!!!

I HATE IT!!! Yeah wow, I really hate it. Why can't they be happy for two seconds istg!!!!!

Btw I'm ordering you to read Matt's live tweets because they are therapeutic, okay.

(Bacon Gif Source)

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its-love-u-asshole · 6 years ago

Text

Twelve Hours [Ch. 6]

Pairings: Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei

Summary: Kuroo Tetsurou has dealt with a lot since he was eighteen, each year bringing the same depressing challenges on the same depressing night. He expects this time to be no different, but the universe is trying desperately to prove him wrong in the most bizarre ways imaginable. So screw it, Kuroo’s only choice is to buckle in and hope he doesn’t die. Easy enough. And hey, with some new allies at his side, maybe he has a chance. Who knows? At least Kuroo is sure of one thing in life when it comes to March 15th, and he stands by this unwritten law, no matter what happens:

If you try to kill pizza delivery boys on Purge Night, you’re irrevocably a bitch.

Rating: T

Tags: Purge AU, mentions of violence but nothing graphic or too bad, no character deaths here okay, this is borderline crack and idk what I was thinking, first meetings, other characters, shenanigans and just…a lot of fun (it seems angsty but its not)

Note: Yay, I got through hell chapter lol. Action scenes are the worst, let me tell you, but I hope everyone enjoys this update! I think the pain was worth it... Big thanks to @emeraldwaves for reading this over!

AO3

There was nothing quite as jarring as waking up one morning, everything as normal and mundane as the last, only to find the human right to living had been tossed into a raging hellfire.

The announcement of the Purge and its passing had put a hold on Kuroo's thoughts; no more qualms about the homework he didn't proofread the night before, or the Poptarts burning in the toaster. Kuroo forgot them all, and would continue to ignore them until the burning turned to smoke and sent the alarm blaring through his eardrums.

No, Kuroo had just stared at the television, life knocked off the rails with no hopes of finding the previous track ever again. He never thought anything would be quite as disorienting as that, but he had to admit, getting hit with a car came pretty fucking close.

The next hit caused him to lurch forward, and the seatbelt dug into the skin of his neck. He couldn't see anything except flashes of headlights and blurred faces, but he needed to snap out of it, needed to get control where he could.

Thank god Terushima wasn't a completely hopeless driver.

"Yuuji, back up! Back up!" Futakuchi yelled, and the blind trust which existed between them paid off. Terushima put the car into reverse with jerky, but efficient motions, not stopping to question why or how come.

Thank god, or else their front would've been unsalvageable.

The other car, zipped past the windshield, barely missing them, before correcting itself again. The car might've been smaller, but that heavy armor was not fucking around and neither were the drivers.

In short:

"Fucking step on it!" Tsukishima ordered, finally finding his voice, and no one was going to not listen to that.

"Oh fuck, oh shit, oh--"

"Yuuji." A chorus of three voices sounded, panicked, but loud enough to make Terushima put his foot to the floor. They sped off in a haze of sparks and burnt rubber, tearing down the street onto a section of empty freeway. No one cared about staying on course. Right then, it was about getting out alive.

Alive...

Kuroo looked to where Tsukishima sat, instantly finding the sizable dent visible from where they'd first been rammed at the side. If the car had been any less secure...

Tsukishima, who'd also been marveling at his 'near death' marker, just laughed nervously. "I know this is a really bad time, but the shell of this car is amazing."

And Kuroo, despite the way his body lurched from a sudden turn, regardless of how he could see the sedan barreling behind them, couldn't help but laugh back. If he and Tsukishima still kept their humor through all this, maybe he'd be able to not think about the game of vehicular pinball they'd been forced into.

Maybe.

As if there to shatter that, the sedan revved its engine, now beside them, and--

"Shit!" Suga cried out as he leaped to the other side of the car, not caring about Yamamoto's personal space as the car angled itself to hit the driver side. It missed, but Kuroo doubted it would again.

Terushima broke hard, arm moving to pin Futakuchi against his seat as they all flew forward. Swearing, Terushima let the car get ahead of them for a split second before moving the van into a full u-turn, taking them down another desolate stretch of highway bridge.

Yamamoto barfed, but no one seemed to fault him for it.

And damn that stupid little sedan, it had no problem adjusting itself, already on their tail again.

"These people are insane!" Terushima's voice screamed over the screech of metal as he turned the wheel frantically, not caring where the car went as long as it was away. He looked over his shoulder, taking the van's accelerator to its limits and doing his best to block the other car.

"They know that!" Kuroo yelled, but it hardly mattered when they were grazed again, only somewhat saved by Futakuchi's quick thinking. The brunet grabbed the steering wheel, turning it sharply so they swerved off the adjacent exit.

Didn't help much.

"Fuck," Kuroo growled, weighing the pros and cons of asking Terushima to open a window so he or Tsukishima could shoot. But if the other car had guns, which they certainly did....

"Too risky, too..." Tsukishima muttered beside him, and it was only after a few seconds Kuroo realized he wasn't talking to him, but himself. His golden eyes flicked about the cabin, straying on the windows, scratching at the leather, anything which might lead him to a solution.

And that was when Kuroo realized the bitter truth. No matter how prepared he or Tsukishima had been for this night, no matter how much they knew what to expect, when moments like these actually came there was no room for rational thought. No amount of knowledge or planning would change the fact that as soon as danger arose, all thoughts flew out the window, and all that was left was pure instinct, and the will to live.

Ha. And he'd thought his bullet proof vest was gonna help. So rich.

"Go faster!" Suga begged, his voice breaking, and he clung to Yamamoto's jacket like a lifeline. Yamamoto just sat there, staring lifelessly ahead.

The engine revved. The sedan nudged their back bumper.

"I--I don't--this is as fast as it goes! I don't--"

"You don't know what you're doing!" Tsukishima practically snarled from the backseat, and to Kuroo's horror, he looked prepared to jump from his seat just to take the wheel for himself.

Tsukishima's belt was already off by the time Kuroo figured out that was precisely what he planned to do, and as Tsukishima rose from his seat, Kuroo's arms wrapped around his waist in a flash, pulling him down with a fierceness that shocked even him.

The next hit came, and they lurched forward, but Kuroo did not let Tsukishima leave his arms.

"Don't ever do that." Kuroo's voice quivered, and he knew it wasn't an order, or laced with anger.

Tsukishima didn't take it as such either, just squirmed in Kuroo's arms until their eyes could meet, hand on Kuroo's pulse, frantic. "We have to do something! They're going to run us off the road if we don't--"

"There's no way I'm letting that tiny piece of shit run us off the road! Fuck that," Terushima hissed, following the curve of another ramp. He hit part of the median, taking the turn too fast, and his side mirror snapped off. "Dammit!"

"Hey did you not see what kind of car that is? Be realistic," Tsukishima scolded, and as usual, Terushima wasn't having it.

"So what? I've got just as much thick plating on this car as--"

"No, it's a fucking Honda!" At this point, Tsukishima was so enraged, he slapped his hands against the seat on either side of Kuroo's head, his voice distraught and gargling. "Don't underestimate people who drive Hondas, they're vindictive little bitches and they're not going to give up!"

"Oh my--shut up!" Futakuchi screamed back. "Whatta you know? Do you drive a Honda?"

Tsukishima leaned forward in Kuroo's arms, not minding the constraints as he growled back. "Yes smartass, I do."

Sure enough, what was supposed to be an insult quickly dissolved into a revelation. As soon as Futakuchi made the connection, his face showed it, the fact they were all fucked finally dawning on him. "Ah shit."

"Yeah, exactly," Kuroo couldn't help but add.

The car lurched again, and Kuroo took action, pinning Tsukishima to his seat until he got his seatbelt refastened. With that solved, he loaded up his gun, seeing no other way at this point.

"Kuroo, you can't." Tsukishima leaned forward, and Kuroo stubbornly pushed him back. "If they shoot back--"

"It's that or lose the car," Kuroo replied, fixing Tsukishima with an intense stare. The conflict showed on Tsukishima's face; he knew Kuroo was right. Even if they survived a crash and got away, being on foot during the Purge....

Unthinkable.

At this point, Kuroo was pleading."It's strong but it won't take many more hits like the first one. We're obviously not going to lose them, so--"

"Yes we are!" Terushima cried back, revving the engine to no effect. There were tears in his eyes. "I sacrificed so much to get to Takahashi and no one is ruining that for me!"

"Yuuji," Futakuchi begged, hand tightening on Terushima's wrist. "We can't--"

"I won't go back to my mom like this!"

Suga's head popped up from where he'd been hiding in Yamamoto's shoulder, eyes flashing with something pitiful.

Futakuchi only stared, hand falling away even as the car rocked. "Yuuji..."

Kuroo wondered if it was the gasoline in the air making his head cloud up.

Kuroo couldn't hold it against Terushima. His desperation, his refusal to be defeated...

Those were things which had been so strong in Kuroo at some point. To think he'd been robbed of them tore him in two. But they weren't gone completely, and his willingness to help Terushima proved that. It might cost him his life but, he wanted to be useful again, wanted to fight for something.

Kuroo's only regret would be that in the grand scheme of the Purge, his death would be nothing but a statistic delivered cheerfully by the morning news anchor. That, and he'd never be able to see Tsukishima again.

But no. No way. There had to be a way to get out of this...They just needed Terushima to--

"Well if these guys kill us, you won't go back at all," Tsukishima voice, cold but loud, rang through the car as blunt as ever. Suga winced, and Futakuchi looked close to berating him, but Tsukishima continued to shout. "I know it sucks, I know nothing is going to stop you from getting where you want to be...from your revenge! But don't be an idiot! All this means nothing if you end up dead on the side of the road, so quit whining!"

Kuroo looked to where Tsukishima's hands were curled at his side, shaking, and not from the car ride. Tsukishima related, perhaps too much, and Kuroo promised to stay alive just to find out how much so.

If only Terushima had listened.

Terushima's eyes widened, and he hit the steering wheel with his free hand, shaking his head. The blare of the horn rang out. The delusional muttering filled the car, and Kuroo knew it was over. "It won't catch us, it won't..."

Kuroo looked behind him slowly, just as the sedan found an opening.

Even as he tried to scold him, Tsukishima's voice had a fearful edge. "It will with your drivi--turn, turn!" Tsukishima's voice was too little too late though. Futakuchi reached for the wheel, his hand tightening over Terushima's as they turned it, but it was pointless.

The sedan had veered around them, risking it all to slide against them. Afraid and trapped, Terushima took the bait.

The tires screeched as Terushima turned them too quickly, the car spinning out until it connected with a pole. Kuroo wished darkness had settled in fast as soon as he grabbed Tsukishima's hand, but unfortunately, he stayed as aware as he'd always been, the crash whirling by in slow motion.

When he'd promised himself he wouldn't let go of Tsukishima, he had meant it, even if he had to be dragged out of the car with him and onto the rough pavement.

Even as hands tugged at Kuroo's shirt and kicked at his body, he stayed glued to the blond, and he didn't care when the ground scraped skin from his palm.

Tsukishima hissed as his elbow slammed against the cement from being thrown down, but didn't release Kuroo's other hand. Guess the feeling was mutual, or maybe Tsukishima needed something to steady him. Either way, Kuroo's hold tightened.

Don't do anything brash.

He couldn't say it, so he stared at Tsukishima, asking, begging for him to stay down.

The blond looked absolutely livid, and the only real reason he'd probably stayed put on the cold floor was the gun pointed casually at his chest. It sent fear rushing up Kuroo's entire body, and he moved to push himself in front of the weapon, only to be kicked down by a pair of cleats.

Kuroo coughed, and Tsukishima immediately pushed against the gun, drawing attention away from Kuroo.

So pathetic, Kuroo told himself. When would Tsukishima stop protecting all of them by himself? It wasn't fair to the blond. Kuroo should've been carrying some of that weight.

"I hate fighters, and you guys reek like 'em," the masked man spat, pushing the gun into Tsukishima's clavicle. Again, Kuroo watched as Tsukishima's eyes bulged in panic, but not from the fear of death. Despite the way the gun bruised porcelain skin, Tsukishima looked observant, clinical, his thoughts racing to get them out of this.

Kuroo had to do the same.

Kuroo's gun sat out of reach, and if he moved for the knife in his pant leg, he'd surely be noticed. This guy was too close to make a move...

Hopeful thoughts, too hopeful, raced in his mind.

Yeah. They could do this. Some kind of surprise attack? Maybe if one of the others could get free they could...

"Get off me!" He heard Suga snarl as he too was dragged from the wrecked car, and his glare didn't diminish when his body slammed against asphalt. His body trembled, afraid, but well, Kuroo could tell by now Suga did not like being controlled.

"Shut up!" One of the assailants said, one of four, from what Kuroo could now discern. The man made a move to slap Suga across the face, and he flinched, but it didn't stop the rage from bubbling out of his mouth.

"Fuck you! You first!"

Kuroo wanted to think he was an idiot. That he was too naive and this show of bravery would mean nothing if it got him killed. Kuroo always tended to think things like that, because admiring someone's actions during the Purge meant very little to him. What was the point?

But now, looking at Suga's dirt stained cheek and disheveled person, he felt nothing but respect.

At least Suga made some good impressions during the short time in this life.

Instead of punishing Suga though, the man looked to his friend, the smile on the mask conveying the sick cruelty well for once. So cliche, so stupid, and Kuroo was just as dumb, powerless to do anything except fling pointless insults in his head.

The other accomplice responded to the look by pointing both his guns to the huddled heap which was Terushima and Futakuchi.

Against his better judgement, Kuroo called out, demanding. "Get away from them!"

But no one bothered him with a glance, he wasn't going anywhere after all. Not with Tsukishima under the mercy of a gun. Trapped.

Suga's breathing trembled, and he stared, fixated on his friends as they were threatened for the first time.

Futakuchi sat there, curled up and hand clutching his head from the shock of the crash. Terushima's hand cradled his head too, as if the extra touch would solve all his ailments. Of course, it didn't. Futakuchi wasn't in any state to speak or look up at what endangered him, much less fight back. Not that Terushima would let him, from where he curled himself over Futakuchi, shielding him from both guns.

"See, that's what I thought," the assailant laughed, watching Suga's speechless face. He tapped the gun against Suga's cheek, but that didn't do much to change his expression. The shock stayed, persistent. "Whoops, I broke him."

The man next to Tsukishima, who Kuroo now noticed wore a striped tie, clicked his tongue. "They're no fun when they're like that. Gonna have to snap him out of it somehow..."

Tsukishima and Kuroo looked at each other helplessly, echoing each other's thoughts.

What do we do? We have to help them. We said we'd help them.

Tsukishima grit his teeth so hard Kuroo thought they might shatter, glancing between every member of the group of assailants.

Right. They knew what they were dealing with.

Striped Tie is here with us. Double Barrel hasn't moved from Terushima and Futakuchi...

The man currently prodding at Suga, who Kuroo referred to as Blue because of the god awful blueberry jeans he wore, only sighed.

But wait, there were four before...

Where--

"Hey Reo, maybe we should bring out their friend's body," Blue called out, his voice filled with a disgusting level of amusement which made Kuroo's blood run cold. "I'm sure that'll get a reaction."

Kuroo heard a choking noise, and barely processed that it came from him.

Terushima's body whipped around at the same time all their heads turned, looking back to their beat up van. Another man, Reo, sat against the side casually, fitting perfectly into a dent. Behind him, in the second row of seats, Yamamoto was hunched over, lifeless.

Kuroo's stomach twisted at the same time Tsukishima's head fell forward, disbelieving. The sound from Suga's throat was not human.

They'd failed. He'd failed. No one was supposed to--

"Yeah," Reo sighed, reaching in to pat Yamamoto's motionless form. "They can't all make it I guess."

"Don't touch him!" Tsukishima's head flew back up, and it was...it was scary enough to make even Striped Tie flinch a little. "I--I'll--"

But then, Terushima's weak tone broke through the dread drenched night. It reminded Kuroo of a whimper, and when Kuroo looked to him, he wished he hadn't. "W-wha--no. No, he's--"

The limbs holding onto Futakuchi had stiffened, as if Terushima's body were nothing but a sculpture. The only thing which told Kuroo the other hadn't just died from shock, was the trembling of his lip, the sheen of his eyes. "Yamamoto..."

In that moment, all Kuroo wanted to do was apologize, but he didn't know if he'd be given that chance.

I'm sorry you had to go through this.

Worst of all, Kuroo couldn't completely say he was surprised.

"Ah, it's the driver," Striped Tie laughed, unaware of the dread seeping into the group. He addressed Terushima, but Kuroo doubted the other heard any of it. His head had moved from Yamamoto's direction, fixed against the asphalt. "Good job by the way! That was a fun chase, you need to work on parking though. Maybe then your friend would've fared better."

Kuroo made a move to stand, to punch someone in the face, but Tsukishima's hand flew to his, pinning him there. Kuroo could feel the graininess of his palm, where the gravel had stuck.

No, Kuroo couldn't sit here. There had to be something he could do.

All his dumb internal advice about caution, rationale, and survival went down the drain. Someone was dead, someone he promised himself to watch over. Nothing mattered except saving the rest of them, some sick form of redemption he didn't have time to think about. Perhaps it was the selfish kind too, or the plain unwillingness to die himself.

Whatever it was, he had no time to be ashamed. He had to fight. If only Tsukishima would let go.

"Just let us go! Why do you even want us?" Suga shouted, and what a useless question, but it got the attention off Terushima.

"Why? Because we can," Double Barrel replied, shrugging like they'd just asked him what he wanted for dinner instead. “Two of us saw you dicking around at the gas station, you were easy targets.”

And yeah, Kuroo expected as much. Purging wasn't supposed to have a point. Not everyone listened to that, Terushima for instance. The point of the night was to release 'primal urges,' or that's what all the propaganda said. Killing for sport, essentially.

"For us," Blue jumped in, ruffling Suga's hair. "You were in the right place at the right time. A van full of idiots, perfect for purging."

"Not idiots," Tsukishima muttered beside him, seething, and Kuroo began to worry about how his shoulders shook. Upon looking down though, he noticed Tsukishima's fingers slowly scratching at the loose chunks of asphalt, suppressing himself with the cruel motions. No wonder his palms had been so rough...

Wait.

Kuroo hated the expressions about lightbulbs going off in people's heads, but it was the closest comparison right then. The chunks Tsukishima had managed to scratch free were medium sized, large enough to throw, to maybe obscure vision...

And yeah, it was a shit plan. A shit lightbulb. The goons were close by, even if they were just joking around with each other and not paying too close attention. If Kuroo managed to get it in Striped Tie's face, then great, he'd get shot by one of the others in the next second. But, he hoped the moment of distraction would let Suga or one of the others get the upper hand.

Even that wasn't a solid plan. None of them seemed in the right state of mind to think so fast.

But Kuroo had to try. If he could take one hostage then they'd have some equal footing...

In any case, he'd free Tsukishima, and that was a threat in and of itself.

Slowly, Kuroo moved to scoop up the rocks and pebbles, nudging Tsukishima's hand out of the way. But the blond's other hand clamped down on his, not allowing him to move.

One look at Tsukishima's face, and it became clear.

Ah, must've had the same idea as me then.

Kuroo almost laughed. Made sense, Tsukishima didn't seem like the type of person to do anything without reason, including digging up the floor.

Regardless, Kuroo's resolve was hard to move. He looked at the blond, taking in his features just in case. The darkness under his light eyes, the long eyelashes, the almost fully faded scar on his cheek which he hadn't noticed before...

He wished he'd been able to reach out and trace it, just once.

Let me do this. Let me help you this time.

Kuroo hoped his pleading carried through into his expression, willing Tsukishima to follow him for once. When the shaky hand against his loosened its grip, Kuroo knew they had an agreement.

Be safe.

That's really all he could hope for, the rest he left in Tsukishima's capable hands.

He steadied himself, put weight on his foot, and took his last breath, vision tunneling to see Striped Tie's laughing face alone.

This was his only shot, and he counted a few beats, letting the energy build in his muscles before rising up. 3...2...1...

Before he could lunge, or even move, a fist connected right against Reo's face, bringing all eyes to him.

Double Barrel hesitated, Blue dropped his gun, and Kuroo didn't take the time to comprehend how Yamamoto had manifested out of nowhere. He looked at Tsukishima, and from then it was all instinct.

Kuroo lunged at the same moment Tsukishima grabbed his gun from his back pocket, turning towards Blue and firing with no hesitation. And at this distance, those rubber bullets lost the label of 'non-lethal' real quick.

But Tsukishima didn't shake or tremble when Striped Tie was brought to the floor by Kuroo, only waited for Kuroo to roll a safe distance away before firing.

"H-hold it right there!" Double Barrel turned both his guns away from Terushima and Futakuchi, but it did him no good. He was distracted, aiming at Tsukishima when the real threat came from his side. All it took was Tsukishima hitting him in the leg for him to drop one gun, allowing Yamamoto to grab it.

The next few seconds were an eternity, but regardless, he didn't take his eyes off of Double Barrel as he lived his last moments.

"Wait, stop!" Double Barrel pleaded, but hadn't they all plead enough?

In the back of his head, Kuroo wished it would've been him firing the gun though, just for the sake of keeping Yamamoto the same man as before this night, but some things were not meant to be. It had to be done, this night couldn't go perfectly.

The Purge never did.

Fueled by pure adrenaline and protective instincts, Yamamoto fired straight into Double Barrel's head, ending it.

The gunshot rang out, echoing down the empty stretch of road. Tsukishima gasped lightly, finally lowering his weapon as his head cleared. Yeah, I know. The blond most likely realized all the things Kuroo had. Yamamoto was alive, but they still hadn't managed to save him in other ways. Somehow, Kuroo knew that disappointment would come back to them eventually, but at least it didn't weigh as heavy as blood.

Kuroo walked slowly towards Yamamoto's quivering form, hands raised. "Hey man, you got him. It's okay now..."

Or as okay as it could be.

"Tora," Suga whispered, walking past Kuroo, past the invisible perimeter he had marked. Unafraid. He didn't think Yamamoto would hurt him. "Time to put the gun down, alright?"

Kuroo felt Tsukishima come up behind him, also following the order by holstering his gun as well. Kuroo mouthed a silent thank you, but truthfully he couldn't express just how grateful he was.

All eyes were on Yamamoto, waiting, watching for some sort of reaction. Even Terushima looked stunned as he lifted Futakuchi to his feet, gaze flicking to every corpse on the floor.

Yamamoto looked between all of them slowly, then at Double Barrel's body, and at the gun in his hand. His eyes went from dead, to clear, to frantic, and he turned every which way, the realization dawning on him. He let the gun fall to the ground, then abruptly clutched at his stomach, and--oh. Oh okay yeah, he's puking. Awesome.

The shattering of frozen time didn't happen the way Kuroo expected, but come to think of it, this made perfect sense.

Yamamoto heaved, but after that car ride, not much was left in that stomach of his.

"What the fuck! Guys!" He threw his hands up, gesturing to the bodies and the blood on his jeans. He looked downright ridiculous. "There's so much--wha--look! All the--the blood. Oh my god--"

"Er...Tora..."

"Fuck! I just killed someone! Holy fuck, shit--"

"Yeah congrats," Tsukishima deadpanned, his face losing its concern in favor of the usual annoyance. "You seem just fine to me..."

"I know," Kuroo muttered, leaning into the blond. "They don't make criminals like they used to. Did they even check his vitals?"

"Apparently not."

"Hey assholes, I was out cold! It sure felt like I'd died," Yamamoto hissed, his hands moving across his limbs and abdomen. His panic turned into a delirious grin at the realization he had every piece intact.

"So what, you just woke up?" Tsukishima asked, walking towards where Suga was currently checking Yamamoto's head for worse injuries. Thick skull on that guy...

Yamamoto swatted Suga's hands away. "Pretty much, and then I saw all the guns and...yeah, I lost my shit when I saw you guys in trouble."

"You could have died," Kuroo scolded, but deep down, he was beyond thankful.

"That's a weird way to phrase 'hey Yamamoto, thanks for saving my life' but I'll take it," he replied with a sniff, and a poorly concealed smile. And well, how could Kuroo fight with that. He smirked, giving an appreciative nod.

"Fine fine," Tsukishima sighed. "But please, no scares next time."

"You do care!"

"Shut it."

It was then Futakuchi's groan captured their attention, the brunet rubbing at his head with dreary eyes."I don't know exactly what happened, but...we won yeah?"

Tsukishima arched a brow. "Are you alive?"

"Who knows."

"Good enough."

Terushima handed Futakuchi gently over to Suga before rushing to Yamamoto's side. He looked like he wanted to tackle him to the ground, hug him until he ran out of breath. But something made him falter in his step, like Yamamoto being alive was too good to be true.

He touched Yamamoto's arm, the flesh firm and real against his, and then he sighed, shaky and relieved all at once.

"Tora...you're really--you're not dead. Oh my god...you're not dead!" Terushima laughed, the tears beading in the corners of his eyes as he finally embraced his friend. "Thank god you're not dead! I'm...I'm so--"

"Shut it, you're still the best leader," Yamamoto said gruffly, rolling his eyes. "Even if you can't drive."

Terushima sobbed through his laugh, and Suga and Futakuchi joined in, huddling around the two. It made Kuroo smile, glad they could stay together.

Yet...

"There's still hours to go," Tsukishima whispered beside him, watching the makeshift family reunion with barely concealed wistfulness. He didn't sound hopeful or afraid either way, but the statement was eerie enough to make Kuroo figure out the point.

Anything could happen in those hours.

But somehow, watching the group hug and cry in front of him, and with Tsukishima by his side, he wasn't as worried as he was before.

"Then, we'll just have to get through those hours," he said, rolling his shoulders back. Tsukishima turned to him, eyes widening as the words sank in. Then, slowly, acceptance settled in those beautiful eyes, and Kuroo stared at the blond's lips as they formed the smallest of smiles.

Again, not everything that night had turned out so bad.

He did have a tiny afterthought though...

"Hey," he said softly, undoing the straps of his bullet proof vest. Tsukishima watched him with concern, the protests so clearly on the tip of his tongue. "I want you to wear this."

"Kuroo-"

"Nope, you're more likely to get in a gunfight than I am," Kuroo laughed, tying the vest around Tsukishima's form against the other's wishes. Shockingly, Tsukishima didn't put up as much of a fight as he could've, and Kuroo truly believed he could've. But instead of leaving Kuroo on his ass, Tsukishima stood frozen as their bodies scrunched close together, and Kuroo fastened the vest.

If Kuroo didn't know any better, he'd say they were both holding their breath. But, that must've just been his imagination talking.

"No taking it off you hear?" He asked, smirk extra infuriating.

Tsukishima's eye twitched, and he crossed his arms, but he made no move to remove the article. The reluctant resignation in those eyes made Kuroo want to pick him up and hug him. "You realize you just jinxed yourself right? What if you get shot now?"

Kuroo shrugged. The fear from earlier that night had faded, now he had someone to watch out for. "We'll have to see."

A scoff, and a smile. Music to Kuroo's ears. "Geek."

They lingered on each other for a moment longer before Terushima's long suffering groan called them back to the land of the living.

"God, I can't believe that just happened!" Terushima said, baffled as he wiped his eyes.

"You giant moron, you scared him half to death," Futakuchi muttered, back to using Terushima's shoulder as a personal crutch. Neither of them minded much.

"Okay but see, I was totally right earlier," Yamamoto proclaimed, smile big and smug, a relief to Kuroo. Guess he wasn't completely scarred, or he wasn't showing it. He'd have to pull him aside and talk about it later.

Futakuchi squinted. "Huh? About what?"

Kuroo had a bad feeling about the words before they even left his mouth, but only Tsukishima's whisper of 'oh god' really prepared him for it.

Yamamoto coughed in disbelief. "Uh, the Snickers bar? I told you I needed that shit for energy, and it completely paid off. Who's selfish now? Not me."

The silence which enveloped the street made Kuroo wince, and thank god Suga did something about it.

The other seemed thoroughly done with everyone shit, and pointed towards the car like he was talking to a two year old. Accurate. "Just...just go over there please. I changed my mind, I can't look at you anymore."

"What?"

"Mm, speaking of, maybe we shouldn't be standing out here like this...." Terushima looked around, on guard and way more wary than before.

"Yeah, I'd hate to have a gun pointed at me three times in one night," Tsukishima said, smiling all the way as he walked to the car. Everyone gladly cleared his path.

He appraised their van, walking around to survey the tires and dents. Kuroo, as badass as he seemed (or thought himself to be in his little delivery car), knew shit about cars. Then again, who knew if Tsukishima knew shit about cars either. Point was, Kuroo trusted him, and he didn't question the way Tsukishima popped the hood and scrutinized every detail.

Man, how could he have missed a person like this?

He'd regret it everyday of his life.

"As banged up as this thing is, most of the damage is cosmetic," Tsukishima said, slamming the hood back down after a few minutes. He glanced towards Terushima, smirking. "Guess you didn't do a terrible job after all. This thing's still drivable."

Terushima grit his teeth. "You little--"

"That's great!" Suga said, way too cheerfully, and piled right back into the behemoth. "Now let's go before we uh, I don't know, get shot."

They all nodded ruefully, because well...they'd had enough of that nonsense.

As Terushima took a step towards the driver's door though, they all paused, looking to Tsukishima as the blond eyed the steering wheel.

The silent hope was there, searing, and even Terushima couldn't feel wounded over it. It had to be done.

Tsukishima tapped his chin, as if he was actually thinking it over, when they all knew damn well he'd already decided. Of course, a few moments later: "You know, maybe I should dr--"

And thus, before he could finish, the unanimous chorus ruled: "Please drive."

#adri writing #kurotsuki #kurotsukki

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avaquet · 6 years ago

Text

TELL ME ABOUT YOUR OC: COMPANION EDITION

Rules:

Describe your OC as they are described by their companions.

Show us what they look like!

Tag at least 5 (or more) followers and 5 blogs you follow! :)

Enjoy writing!

Thank you so much @dirthara-mama ! This was a nice writing exercise for me! Also every response is pretty long and sorta encompasses what Evelyn did throughout the Inquisition, but I thought it easier to have them sorta react to the choices she made? Idk! And sorry if any sound OOC! This is the first time I’ve posted dialogue from anyone in the DA universe :D (excitingly scary I might add lol!)

Tagging: Oof, idk who’s already done this, and of course no obligation! @ironbullsmissingeye @underthedreadwolfsgaze @felorinbailenshield2 @nemichen and @wardenofmyheart !

I put things under the cut cause it be long

How the Inner Circle views Evelyn Lavellan!

(Real quick! There’s mentions of a character named Veil, she is my qunari OC that I HC in my canon that she’s part of the inner circle, though I do not do a reaction from her because well yeah) (I also pictured this as the characters telling a close friend about Ev, and not like a strange interviewer or something)

Blackwall: “Despite the lie I lived, she brought me back and made me a proper Grey Warden. That girl gave me a second chance I never asked for, but perhaps the one I needed. I feel stronger for having joined the Inquisition, came out a better man. I’m not the only one with that story here, she has that kind of influence on a person. I’ve been present for every judgement she judged and she had found a way to make the prisoner work for us or sent them off for a second chance. Like that one Avaar that threw goats at our walls, Maker that one was the first person she judged and he walked out a happy man! Exiled to hunt Venatori, then a while later his tribe got their own land and didn’t become bandits! (chuckles) Like I said, that girls leaves you a better person. I wish she’s see how helpful she’s been. Evelyn never feels like she’s done enough. But I’m grateful to her.”

Cassandra: “Evelyn as the Inquisitor has been...interesting to say the least. I know she means well, I just don’t know if it’s really the right choice she’s made at times. I’m thankful that everything worked out the way it did, though. She convinced me to rebuild the Seekers, she...ugh, she helped get Varric’s next book for me. She knew I liked his series, and I’m flattered. Evelyn has told me that she admires the energy I emit and asked how I do it. (chuckles) I asked her how she made the hard choices, and we both responded to our questions as we just improvise. She’s definitely grown on me, I’m sure of it. Evelyn’s been, thankfully, respectful of everyone’s beliefs. Well, except believing that she is the Herald, that time was frustrating for all of us to say the least. But, she doesn’t believe in either the Maker or the Elvhen gods as gods, which surprised me, but I...(sighs) she doesn’t need my judgement. Evelyn’s a good person, a good friend.”

Cole: “Screams that aren’t heard. She keeps screaming but nothing comes out. Hushed whispers from invisible scars haunt her. A weight no one sees. ‘Help me. Please.’ whispered into the pillow. Once petrified by dreams but in wake is more terrifying. She escapes, only coming back to help. Like me. I cannot make her forget, or anyone, but I feel more. She likes knowing someone wants to help. Smiles more now, genuine. Her friends finally heard her screams. A warm embrace fills her, the urge to yell dies down like a starving flame. Safe. More confident, she helps more, wants others to feel the same calm. I’m more human because of her. We like to garden and feel the earth beneath our feet and against our hands. Too busy to think of bad thoughts. It helps.”

Cullen: “The Inquisitor can change her mind too quickly in my opinion. Though, she’s hardened over time. She did help me overcome my lyrium addiction and support me through the process. I could feel she felt nervous around me at times, maybe it was because I’m an ex-Templar and she’s a mage. Which is why it surprised me that she was supportive during my recovery and how many chess matches she partook with me. We’re either matched at wits, or she just lengthens the game to keep me on edge, which, she’s always won. I wish I could’ve gotten to know her better, though, and despite my advice she would always use the Inquisitions forces as a last resort which I hardly agreed with. But, what’s done is done. Might I add, she has a companion dragon? Do you know how nervous that made me? A dragon!”

Dorian: “Evelyn? She’s one of the truest friends I’ve ever had. At first I was wary since she conscripted the mages. But she changed for the better, no doubt under my influence. I question her taste in literature, but I dare say she reads more than I do. How she can find time like that baffles me. She gets extraordinarily excited to fight dragons mind you, despite my protests. I...I think her and Bull consider it to be a date? Hardly romantic, maybe she got the idea from reading Varric’s books (scoffs). Ev told me about the meeting with my father and accompanied me to Redcliffe. She didn’t have to, she could’ve ignored it, she made time to help me personally. Though, she’s helped everyone personally, but my situation wasn’t dealing with a qunari alliance or a certain dwarf’s girlfriend from leaking red lyrium to Corypheus. I...I’m (sigh) grateful to call Evelyn Lavellan a friend. She’s kind and accepting and treats everyone with a kind of equity that is so rare.”

(slight nsfw in this one) The Iron Bull: “On the field, it’s like having a raging lightning storm with a fire tornado working with you. The look of determination and concentration on her face during battle is just so...(grunts). She’s my Kadan, beautiful, strong, intelligent, and I’m proud to be her Vhenan. We’ve shared many moments of all kinds together, helped me in many ways, realize things, helped me become the best I can be. I only hope I’ve helped her in the same way. The Chargers have already considered her a part of us with how much she hangs around, and fuck, if it wasn’t for the Inquisition, I’d ask her to join. Ev’s always fun to be around, she’s got the best jokes, Krem groans ‘cause she’s strengthened my pun game. And damn, does she have a fantastic body, and I get to see it in all its glory almost daily. The scars, her tits, the faces she makes when we go rough, yeah, she’s great. We’re great.”

Josephine: “Madame de Fer and I have to constantly remind her about her presentation to the world. Oh, I remember the stress at the Ball and having to watch over everyone almost like children. It’s also surprised me on how much culture she had not experienced before. Did you know, she’s never been to a full theater performance before? I made sure to change that as quickly as I could. I feel honored to be the first to introduce her to a variety of customs, she did help me annul the contract on my family after all. And on top of that, she respected my choice to doing it my way. She’s been amazing and got to witness me annihilate Cullen at Wicked Grace, and applauded me for doing so! I adore her and love the challenge she gave me during our time in the Inquisition. She came to me a lot for my use in diplomacy which, obviously, is something I respect. Even if...even if it didn’t save her clan, I thought she would hate me for failing, but she didn’t. I still feel awful and I apologize whenever it comes up, but she’s the one reassuring me? Don’t get me wrong, she avoided me for a bit after I told her, well, no one saw her for the rest of the night...but...oh, that got sad, I am thankful for her kindness.”

Leliana: “I won’t lie, at first I thought her compassion and mercy were a weakness, but she taught me otherwise. Ever since the death of her clan, I’ve been trying to get information on any survivors, she doesn’t deserve such a devastating loss, especially when it was during the middle of the Inquisition. She was always keen on listening to my suggestions at the war table and used my forces whenever possible. I think she was interested in adopting a nug from me before she started to raise a dragon! We all kept eyes on Elyana the dragon but somehow things just worked out. (chuckles) She did ask me to train her in becoming a bard, though I think she’s much more interested in what Maryden does than being a spy. Evelyn reminds me so much of the Hero of Ferelden. It took some convincing to get her to realize the severity of the oppression of mages and annulled the conscription. She was quite sheltered from the rest of the world in her clan and didn’t know much about the mage-templar situation. I think that’s why she listened to both Vivienne and I like mentors and (chuckles) parental figures as she’s called Vivienne mom a few times. All in all, Evelyn is precious and great, and I’m glad to have known her.”

Sera: “Oh her? Yeah, she’s fun to be around ‘n stuff. Elf, though, yeah. Not too elfy, so that’s good. Got too into her own glow, though. Rift mage or whatever, that’s too mage-y with that weird magic shite. And it’s a bit unnervin’ innit? I mean, she’s good, helps stick it to nobles in the best friggin’ way. (giggles) And we got to prank her whole lot, she don’t mind my cookies of shite on the roof either. Ev wants to be like people people, I can tell she’s different that way, but Viv keeps makin’ her wear that friggin’ sash and shite. Makes her, Ev, not seem like people, right. I like her and I don’t at the same time, yeah? Isn’t too elfy, good, but she’s too mage-y. Fun ‘n funny but can’t seem to make up her mind for shite. Like, listenin’ to Viv but also pieing nobles in the face. Look, she’s nice an’ all and she’s gettin’ there, but I think she needs a bit more pies to the face, yeah? (giggles) Or Bull to set her right when her arse needs it. (giggles) Get it? Eugh, never mind.”

Solas: “It took time to warm up to the Inquisitor, for she always kept people at a distance. For a time I thought...no. Perhaps she changed her mind. It was for the best anyways, I’m partially grateful that things did not escalate further. I got to train her in the ways of the Rift Mage, and in doing so I learned just how wise her spirit is. How adaptable and intelligent, it made me rethink about the Dalish, but she assured me it wasn’t them that made her that way. She has a tendancy to infuriate me, but I respect her will to listen as to why it does. Evelyn still has much to learn, and it’s been interesting to see her grow from her experiences. I know she abhors the Vallaslin on her face as she did not wish to partake in that tradition. Maybe...hopefully in time, there will be a way to safely remove it. As for the choices she has made, there are a few I have questioned. Thankfully, she took my advice on how to proceed with the Vir Abelasan. Evelyn Lavellan is young and ignorant, but I hold her to a high respect for her willingness to learn, help, restore, and fix her mistakes.”

Varric: “Blossom has been through a ton of shit. Made a lot of choices that she regretted. When Hawke came by, she talked Blossom into rethinking on her choice to deal with the mages and went back on the conscription, letting the mages be free within the Inquisition. I know Hawke’s been keeping in contact with her and they’re friends. Which is great! I taught her how to play Wicked Grace, heh, she’s not very good at it but she plays hard. Well, as in, she bets a lot and usually loses it all but weirdly, she doesn’t mind and is very enjoyable company. Her, Veil, Buttercup, Tiny, and I play cards regularly together. We all exchange stories, chuckle at her and Veil’s bickering and shitty pun wars with Tiny. Best parts of those are when Buttercup groans and usually leaves at that point. I feel bad for Blossom because she’s so nice, merciful, forgiving, and caring an this damn world of events keep forcing her through tough and impossible shit, and it’s broken her a few times. We helped pick up her pieces and continue on. She’s young and inexperienced. Shit, before the Inquisition, she’d never killed a person before. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful to have a hero in this mess, I just think Andraste or luck or whatever chose unfairly. Or maybe her kind heart is exactly what we all need. That part about her hasn’t changed despite everything and I respect that deeply. I hope she’s able to live a happy life after all this.”

Vivienne: “Oh, Evelyn is a dear, very sweet and respectful. She listened to my teachings very well, especially on etiquette and it surprised me how much she already did out of habit considering she was raised in a Dalish clan on different customs. Though, she did say she didn’t follow Dalish traditions. We share many evenings together and hold conversations while she lets me braid her hair. I found it amusing when I helped her get ready for the Halamshiral Ball and had to teach not only her, but Iron Bull as well, on how to dance. Evelyn was easier to teach because she knows how to dance solo, but never had a partner. I remember she hated the Ball because she had to fight in a dress, with tight braids in her hair, makeup, and various accessories without messing any of it up lest she becomes suspicious or scandalous to the guests. Sadly, she despises The Game, though she’s very good at it. It was glorious. At the Winter Palace she went from being seen like a glorified servant to being on top and holding everyone at the court on strings like puppets along with their respect. Oh, a great sense of fashion and a good eye for decorations, though she dislikes constantly looking and dressing as nobility and I must remind her consistently on why it’s important. I do enjoy her company and I wish we saw more eye to eye on the subject on Circles and mages. At first we did, but as time went on she started agreeing more and more with our dear Spymaster.”

lol all in all, Ev is kind, caring, and smart. She got along with basically everyone, even if they didn’t see eye to eye on everything. Though other than Bull, I think she’s closest with Vivienne, Varric, and Dorian ( and my OC Veil, but I don’t post about her often)

#tag game #evelyn lavellan #oc lavellan #oc inquisitor #oc tag game #thank you for tagging me once again!!!

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emphoenixcat · 7 years ago

Note

Hi what about Patton telling Logan that he not only likes him, but the rest of the sides as well. The reason Pat tells him specifically is because he's the logical side, he should know what to do. U choose how you want it to play out from here 🐢 ( handing the phone to bunny Anon bc she has one too)

I don’t even know what I did. The beginning starts off real well, then it kind of spirals out of nowhere? I’m sorry! My first try at writing LAMP or any polyamorous relationship. I would really appreciate any thoughts you all might have on this word vomit.

Warnings: Like 2 curse words. Mention of food. Slight angst, but really weird angst. Idk. Let me know if I should add anything.

Patton walked into the kitchen that morning without the usual pep in his step. Logan glanced up from the table, where he had been reading a newspaper and drinking coffee (it was actually hot chocolate, but he preferred that the others didn’t know that).

Patton politely smiled at the sight of the logical side as he moved toward the stove to start breakfast.

Logan set down his news article, “Okay, Pat. What’s wrong?”

“Wrong? Why would something be wrong?” Patton asked innocently.

“You sighed several times while walking into the kitchen and you didn’t sing out any morning pleasantries. You normally do.” The logical side quirked an eyebrow and took a sip of his ‘coffee’. His demeanor like that of an all-knowing entity.

Patton simply shrugged, “Okay, well….”

“….you know how I have a crush on you, right?”

Logan began choking on his drink, his eyes turning slightly red as he wheezed.

“Come again?” he managed to gasp.

“I have a crush….on you. I thought that it was obvious.” Patton smirked, kind of enjoying the blush that was spreading from Logan’s cheeks to his ears.

Straightening his tie nervously, Logan gathered his wits. “I–I’ll admit that I was not aware of these feelings.”

“I can tell by your reaction,” Patton smiled slightly.

The moral one’s tone turned a bit more serious as he asked, “But do you like me that way?”

Flustered, Logan took another drink of coffee before answering. “I do believe that I….I’m….I think I….” he bit his lip and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“Yes,” he finally managed.

Patton smiled, but still looked a bit troubled.

“Did my reaction disappoint or upset you in any way?” Logan asked with worry.

“No, of course not! I just wondered….”

“What is it, Pat?”

“I just wondered if you might have a crush on the others.” His cheeks flushed scarlet.

Logan was beginning to understand, “Why come to me first? Why not ask the group as a collective if this concerns them as well?”

“Well….I’ve always been pretty comfortable with you and you are Logic. I thought that maybe….just maybe you’d have some sort of amazing plan on how to tell them.”

The logical side regarded Patton for a moment, who was gazing at Logan with a mixture of hope and admiration.

“Perhaps….”

Logan had formulated a strategy and was rather pleased with himself. He may not have noticed that Patton had had a crush on him or the others, but the logical side had noticed something blossoming between Roman and Virgil no matter how much they would try to deny it. He knew it was only a matter of time before their feelings came to light.

Roman came down for breakfast first and as he moved the chair to sit at his usual spot, Patton put down a plate of freshly-made, heart-shaped pancakes.

“Hearts? What’s the occasion?” Roman asked curiously.

“Oh, nothing! Just want you all to know how much I love you!” Patton exclaimed happily.

“Aw that’s sweet. I give you my most gracious gratitude.” Roman bowed dramatically before taking a seat.

That was part of Logan’s plan.

Step 1: Subliminal Messages.

Virgil came down next, yawning. His purple hair was an unruly mess and it seemed that he had passed out in his jeans and hoodie.

“Ah, Sleeping Broody. You finally decide to join us?” Roman quipped.

“Do not mess with me this early in the day unless you want pancake syrup in your hair, Princey.” Virgil glared.

The anxious side began to walk to his side of the table, but Logan interjected.

“May I sit in your spot today?

“Um, I guess. But why?”

“Well, I’d like to sit closer to Patton,” Logan glanced at the moral side.

Roman and Virgil were both staring at them, shock filled their faces as understanding hit them like a tide.

Virgil stood in place, still stunned, “Y–you’re….”

“You’re dating!” Roman exclaimed. “When were you going to tell us!”

“Relax, we only just confessed this morning,” Logan smirked and Patton beamed.

Step 2: Surprise Relationship.

“I want details! I thought you were an unfeeling tincan, but here you are. You’ve been playing me all this time, it isn’t fair!

“We’ll tell you everything in time, Ro. But let’s have our breakfast first,” Patton went to grab Virgil’s plate.

The anxious trait finally moved to sit down in the seat next to the prince.

“I am so jealous! I can’t believe that you, of all people, started a romantic relationship before me,” Roman fumed.

Step 3: Jealousy.

Patton came back to the table and set Virgil’s plate down in front of him. Virgil frowned.

Logan and Patton braced themselves. This was the hard part.

Anxiety’s pancakes were the only ones not shaped like a heart.

Rather than commenting on this, he began to cut them. The sudden silence of the kitchen causing Roman to glance over at Virgil sitting near him.

Virgil prayed that Princey would just keep his mouth shut.

Nope.

“Hey! Wait, hold on! Why aren’t his pancakes shaped like hearts?”

Patton answered uneasily, “Oh, I guess I must’ve….forgot”

Roman gripped the the edge of the table firmly. “That’s not fair! If you’re going to show love, at least show it to us equally! I thought you cared about people’s feelings, Pat!”

“Calm down, Princey. It’s okay. Really.” Virgil said almost whispering.

The prince directed his attention at Anxiety, “It isn’t okay, Virge. It isn’t okay because you matter too.”

And Virgil almost believed him. Almost.

It was taking all of Patton’s willpower not to cry. Not to hug Virgil and let out a never-ending string of apologies, but this was part of the plan.

Step 4: Show them that they’d fight for one another.

Patton hurriedly left the room because the worst had yet to come. Why had he let Logan talk him into this? The intentions were pure, but what if this broke them apart instead of bringing them together?

What if?

Logan gazed at Roman with a cold and practiced look. “Do you really think he matters? Is there any way to actually verify these feelings?

Roman stared at Logan in outrage. He glanced back at Virgil who was trembling, but trying desperately to hide it. Anxiety was holding back tears.

Virgil squeezed his eyes shut, his worst nightmares being confirmed.

But then….

….something warm brushed softly against his lips.

Astonished, Virgil opened his eyes to find Roman. The prince gave a small smile of reassurance, “Are you okay, Virge?”

Not trusting his own voice, tha anxious side could only nod in wonderment.

The prince gave Virgil another kiss, this one on the forehead. He stood up and focused a glare at Logan.

Logan smiled.

“I knew you two loved each other.”

Roman’s expression melted into confusion for the umpteenth time that morning.

“What?”

“It was quite obvious to Patton and I. We thought–”

“What?”

“I apologize for the distress, but it was necessary to–”

“Shut up, you–you….”

In his rage, Roman could not come up with a suitable insult for the logical side.

It was at this moment that Patton took a chance and walked into the kitchen, only to quickly regret it.

“And you! You let him! How could–how?”

Virgil continued to sit there, completely mystified. Roman was more furious than any of them had ever seen. Virgil’s mind kept offering him wild, perplexing thoughts. Thoughts that couldn’t possibly hold any truth. Yet, Roman was ranting and raving. An anger that was building beyond words and it was because of a minor injustice. An injustice that plagued him.

Why would Princey care?

Patton was crying now. Logan was looking stricken. The plan hadn’t exactly backfired, but it hadn’t exactly worked either.

“Uh, Pat?”

Patton swiped at his eyes, still sobbing. “Y–yeah?”

“I think you’d better tell them. I know this isn’t exactly how you wanted to, but I–I admit I made a grievous mistake. I do not know h–how to deal with feelings very well. I’m sorry. I’ve made a mess of things.”

Roman was throwing plates toward the sink, none of them were really hitting their target. The prince didn’t seem to care as they shattered and flew in every direction. Virgil was hiding in his hoodie, shuddering as glass cracked against the wall, fragments ricocheting around the kitchen.

“R–Ro? Can we talk? Please, I’m really sorry. I’m more sorry than I’ve ever been in my entire life. I was so stupid.”

Roman turned towards the moral side, breathing sharply. “How could you?”

Patton sobbed, “The truth is….I don’t just love Logan. I love you guys too. I just wanted to somehow get you and Virgil together first in order to m–make it easier.”

The creative side was struggling to calm himself, breathing in and out heavily. Virgil finally found the courage to move to help the prince despite his own inner turmoil.

“It’s okay, Princey. It’s fine. I’m fine. Slow it down. Breathe in for 4 seconds. Hold for 7. Now, let out for 8. That’s good. Very good.” Virgil soothed.

As he relaxed, Roman grabbed Virgil’s hand like a lifeline. Virgil blinked in surprise. Anxiety was keeping the prince calm? When was this morning ever going to make sense? Oh crap, was he still asleep? Virgil really hoped he hadn’t dreamt the whole thing, even if the situation had just about given him a heart attack.

After Roman was back to breathing normally, he faced Patton.

“What the actual fuck?”

Patton shuddered slightly at the profanity.

“Why couldn’t you just say that you loved us? Why this whole charade?”

Patton laughed suddenly, “I don’t know, but I sure as hell know that I am never taking Logan’s advice again. Not when it comes to feelings.”

Logan reddened at this remark, but straightened his glasses and collected himself. “Fair enough.”

And nobody really knew why, but it was funny.

Despite the weirdness and chaos of the morning or maybe because of it, they all began to giggle a bit hysterically.

It had been a rather stupid plan. It had been a rather stupid breakfast. It had been a rather stupid morning.

The Sides laughed.

In the middle of a destroyed kitchen full of broken glassware and a few fallen chairs.

They laughed.

All their faces streaked with tears.

They laughed.

With that laughter, their relationship with each other began to mend. Logan and Patton apologized to Virgil and Roman profusely. Roman made Logan wear a shirt labeled stupid for a few weeks, and Logan obliged without complaint because he knew. He knew that he had been wrong.

Roman forgave Logan and Patton though. He knew that not all ideas were good ideas. Oh, he knew.

Virgil was showered with gifts from the other Sides, even though he protested. He wouldn’t admit it, but the attention felt kind of nice.

Breakfast was a bit strange after that though. Walking into the kitchen made them all on edge. They ate meals on the couch together for awhile.

Even when they started to eat in the kitchen again….

pancakes were avoided.

#sander sides fanfic #LAMP story #polyamory #polyship #IDK #pancakes are evil apparently #weird angst #hilarious actually

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joshpup · 7 years ago

Text

To Love or Not To Love // Pt. 2

Intro // Pt. 1 // Pt. 2 // Pt. 3 // Pt 4 // Pt. 5 // Pt. 6 // Pt. 7 // Pt. 8 // Pt. 9 // Pt. 10 // Pt. 11 // Pt. 12 // Pt. 13 // Pt. 14 // Pt. 15 // Pt. 16 // Pt. 17 Word Count: 2,743 Genre: Svt Mafia Au Member: Mingyu TW: Angst, Violence, mention of blood, there will be fluff eventually i promise. idk about tw if there is one i should add pls let me know im bad at them

When you came back to your senses, you had no desire to open your eyes. Your hand were bound behind your back again, only this time much tighter and stronger than last time. You doubted you could break out of this one. You didn’t want to open your eyes, but when you finally did, you found you had yet again been blindfolded. How you hadn’t felt the blindfold in the first place made you feel really stupid, but you had other things to worry about. You felt the floor rock back and forth underneath you, and you realized you were wedged between some seats on the floor of the car. Your thoughts turned to the coffee shop. Had the police shown up? Was everyone okay? You hoped they were. Partly because you simply wanted them to be safe, but also because your coworkers would be the only ones who knew about you. You had dropped contact with your family a long time ago, and had been living on your own in a small apartment. You doubted people would make a great effort to find you if you were hidden away enough.

As you bumped around blindly in the car, the occasional knee brushing against your shoulder from whoever sat in the seat closest to you, you began to weigh the amount of trouble you had landed yourself in. Rather than being kidnapped, maybe you should have just let Jun shoot you, or maybe you should have listened to Mingyu’s warning and gone back to the room. The car made a sharp turn, throwing you into the seat next to you. A hand reached out and steadied you, but you jerked away from the touch. The car drove on for a few more minutes, then slowed to a stop. You heard the door open and a few people get out before someone reached in and grabbed you. You stumbled to your feet, barreling making the landing as you climbed out the car. Your legs were still a bit numb and without your arms, your balance was off. The person kept a good grip on your arm, not too tight, but not soft enough to let you know trying to break free would be pointless. Barely anyone spoke. The few that did were only in small murmurs.

You were led up a few stairs, only tripping on one of them before stumbling into the building. Whoever was leading you was doing a real crap job of it, but it's not like you expected them to treat you well, they had kidnapped you after all. You were guiding through the house before finally coming to a stop in what you assumed to be a separate room judging by the fact you couldn’t hear the footsteps and quiet murmuring of the other people. You felt a hand start to untie your blindfold and when your eyes adjusted to the light you saw Mingyu standing in front of you.

“You should have stayed away on your day off (y/n)...” he said, almost harshly, a bit of a glare in his eyes. Why the heck was he mad? It’s not like he was the one who had been freakin kidnapped. All the terror that had once filled you was quickly replaced with anger. A fiery rage unlike any other before filled your body. You were mad, and Mingyu could tell. He was far from the cheeky guy you served every day at the shop. No, he was much different. If your hands hadn’t been so tightly bound behind your back, you would have punched him as hard as you could. So instead, you kicked him as hard as possible in the shin. He shouted in pain and immediately grabbed his throbbing leg and took a few steps back. You glared down at him as crouched and rubbed his leg. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it again. Good, whatever he was going to say would only earn another hard kick from you. You regretted ever thinking about Mingyu in a positive light. Mingyu stood back up, but rather than a piercing glare like you thought he would have, his eyes were actually quite soft, almost as if they were full of sorrow. This however only made you more angry. If he was going to feel sorry for you he might as well just let you go. Mingyu looked at you for a bit, and you glared back. Neither one of you moved, neither of you blinked, you barely dared to breath. Finally Mingyu let out a long sigh then moved towards the door. He made no effort to unbound your hands or even say anything. He simply walked out the door and locked it behind him.

As you heard the lock click you let out a breath of air. Finally taking the time to look around, you found that only a bed and a nightstand stood in the room. There were no windows and no other doors; the room was unbelievably plain, all whites and greys. The room looked as if it had gone untouched for years. It smelled dusty and as if no fresh air had entered the room in about a year. The bedding look outdated, and honestly you were surprised they had even gone as far as to put bedding on in a room that was never touched by the looks of it. You walked around the room a few times, your arms still tightly bound behind your back. If they hadn’t been you would no doubt be looking through the drawers of the nightstand and looking under the bed for something, anything that might help you escape.

However, as time passed on and nothing happened, the small bit of hope that maybe, just maybe, they would let you go began to fade and you really started to struggle against the multiple zip ties that bound your hands together. The more you struggled against them, the more they hurt as it rubbed along your now raw skin. You somehow managed to open the drawers to the nightstand after giving up on breaking your hands free and found nothing but dust. Under the bed was no different. You checked every inch of the room. You didn’t even know what you were looking for, just anything. Anything that could help even in the slightest. As expected, you found nothing.

Eventually you gave up on looking for stuff and went back to trying to break free from the zip ties. If only you were stronger. Breaking one zip tie wasn’t easy but it was still possible, but the three or four they had put on you? Now that was impossible for you. And they were pretty tight, practically cutting of the circulation. You tried everything to break free: pulling, twisting, rubbing it up against things, you even tried wedging one of the bedposts between your hands and yanking against it, but not only did you practically crush your arm but ended up dragging the bed across the room. Your wrists hurt, the ties were digging into your skin and you could tell that it was causing you to bleed. Next you moved to the locked door. You pushed, pulled, yanked, kicked, anything, but it didn’t budge in the slightest.

You paced around the room, reality finally starting to set in. You would most likely never be free. You were never going to work at the shop again, or see the few close friends you had, or even see your family again, because you got kidnapped by a bunch of really dumb guys who cant do their job right, as awful as their job may by. You were full of mixed emotions. Scared for your future, angry you had been kidnapped by Mingyu of all people, and upset that you would never most likely never even see the people and do the things you loved the most in life. Hours passed by, you didn’t need a clock to know, you could just tell. Your feet hurt from standing for so long, so you finally allowed yourself to sit down in one of the corners of the room. Why a corner you had no idea, it just felt safer, and there is no way you were going to sit on that bed. You weren’t about to get yourself comfortable in the room you were being held captive.

No one had come to the room since Mingyu had dropped you off. You had no idea what time of day it was, or what day it was for that matter. You had no idea how long you had been passed out or how long you had driven away from the shop. For all you could know it could be one in the morning and you had no way of telling. What you did know was that you were tired and hungry. You were going to pick up some breakfast after you had stopped by work but that didn’t happen, so you had eaten anything all day long, and it was finally catching up to you. You sat there for what felt like hours, but it was probably more like 30 minutes when there was a knock on the door.

Why the heck bother to knock? I can’t even open the door… You thought to yourself. You stayed right where you sat and didn’t utter a single word. The lock clicked and the door was pushed open. In stepped a person you had never seen before, but that didn’t shock you as you had only truly met two of them. He wasn’t dressed in black like you had seen all the others, but rather a soft looking pastel sweater and jeans. His light brown hair hung down in his face, coming to a stop right before covering his soft eyes. He don’t look anything like what you would expect to see from a group of people who just killed someone and kidnapped another person. He looked at you softly, a mix of care and pity filling his eyes. A gentle, almost sad, smile appeared on his face that you couldn’t help but notice looked like a cat. He walked towards the bed and set down a small tray of food before looking back at you.

“I’m really sorry we did this to you.” He said, looking off to the side in a guilty fashion, “this was honestly the only thing we could do, to keep both you and the rest of us safe.” You just looked at him. There a lot of things you could say, and that you wanted to say but for some reason you kept them to yourself. Instead you watched him walk out of the room, then looked towards the food sitting on the bed.

“This group,” you sighed, “is so dumb.” how the heck did they expect you to eat a meal when your hands were still tied behind your back. You sat there and looked at the food a bit longer, wondering if it was worth it to just try and eat it without your hands, but decided you’d rather starve (dramatic, i know). Instead you pushed yourself closer to the wall and somehow ended up falling asleep. How you were comfortable enough mentally and physically to fall asleep, no one will ever know, you must have just been exhausted.

A while after you had woken up the same soft person came into the room after knocking. He stared down at the full plate of now cold food and looked at you a little puzzled. You glared back at him.

“How come you didn’t eat anything?” he questioned. You just looked at him for a second.

“My hands are still all tied up. How was i supposed to eat?” you replied in a harsh tone. He groaned and ran his fingers through his hands.

“Mingyu I swear…” he mumbled. He seemed to think for a second. “Here, just come with me.” he said, gesturing to the door. You got up and followed him into the hallway. The hallway was dimly lit and the walls were full of doors. It reminded you of a hotel. You followed the nameless guy down the hall and down a flight of stairs into a much better lit kitchen. As you walked you caught a glimpse of a window and saw only the midnight blue sky. So it was night after all. The real question was does that make it the same day you were kidnaped or the day after?

The guy came to a stop by a drawer and opened it, pulling out a pair of scissors. You stepped back when he started to walk towards you. You weren’t going to lie, the thought of someone going behind you with a pair of scissors wasn’t the best thought to you, especially because he was part of the same group where several other members almost killed you. He stopped and held up both hands.

“I promise im not going to hurt you, nobody here will, we would have already done that if we wanted too. You’ll go untouched,” he said, “or at least until boss gets back…” he mumbled. As if you weren’t already worried enough, then now you really were. The cat smile guy quickly noted you were thinking that.

“If anything though, Mingyu will be the one who has to deal with everything, not you.” He added, obviously trying to calm you down. He looked at you for a few seconds before walking around you to cut the zip ties like he originally planned.

“Oh geez…” he gasped. Yup, you had totally cut up your wrists like you had thought, maybe even worse. It was hurting like hell but you just figured that was because they were tied to freaking tight.

“We were going to take them off eventually, you didn’t have to hurt yourself like this trying to get out.” he stated as he gently started to cut of the ties.

“Wouldn’t you have done the same thing if you were in my position?” you questioned coldly.

“I have been in your position…” he said softly, causing you to loosen up a bit. Had he also been kidnapped before? By the same people that got you or someone else?

“I’m Joshua by the way.” he declared as he cut the last tie, as if he hadn’t even said anything about being kidnapped before. You glanced at him before slowly pulling your hands in front of you to inspect the damage you had managed to inflict on yourself. Yah, it was pretty bad. Joshua put the scissors back then told you to follow him once more. You ended up following him back upstairs, but rather into the room you had been kept, into a different one. Inside had two beds, pushed up against opposite walls. The room was full of stuff, from clothes to books and even a few stuffed animals. This must be his room that he shares with someone else. You watched as he looked around on his shelf, eventually pulling out a box. He set it down on his bed and opened it to reveal a bunch of bandages. Without saying a word he set to work bandaging up your cut up wrists.

After he had finished doctoring up one wrist you finally spoke up.

“So, how many are there of you guys?” you questioned.

“Thirteen.” joshua answered without looking up, “but there are a lot of other groups out there, we are one of the bigger ones though.” you nodded. You had entered a whole other world, a world no one ever wants to enter.

“And where are the other twelve?” you asked as he started to wrap your wrist.

“They’re...out.” he said with a pause.

“Out where?” you questioned.

“Just handling some business.” Joshua answered vaguely, coming to a finish and taking one last look over his handy work.

“Does that business have to do with why you guys stormed into my coffee shop and shot someone?” you asked, running you hand over the new bandages.

“It’s best not to ask questions.” Joshua declared as he put the first aid kit back on his shelf.

“If I’m going to be stuck here forever I might as well know.” you stated. Joshua let out a deep sigh then looked at you.

“Yes, it does. And let’s hope everything goes well for the boss, otherwise it won’t be good for either you are Mingyu.”

Next...

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radne-le-roman-blog · 8 years ago

Text

Is there such thing as a May onward resolution?

No clue. Not in the slightest. It now exists, because this probably should’ve been a New Year’s one, over on Randythewriter. But, I created this one because it’s a joke that @poppyredrose560 made (my name - Radne), so I could let some shit out without dude getting in the way, until I fucked up and reblogged something using this account. So now I need to think of a new username. (Cough, cough) Poppy, you come up with genius names and even Death ROW that I would’ve never gotten, make me a new nickname please. (cough cough).

Only joking, Pop. I’ma sorry I pissed you off last night, I won’t pretend I was in the right, I only thought you meant it be me included with ‘men, positions’, so I left because I identify as a male cyborg. I’m sorry. I just wanted to be a guard. And fight Ironforge.

Is there such thing as a male cyborg, or is it just a cyborg? I’m off topic.

Like I said seventy tribillion years ago or something, I don’t delete things like this and just type without editing, minus spelling mistakes.

So, hi.

Hi, if you don’t know me, you’re about to either click off, or scroll down to some depressing shit about Death Row, and myself, with the lil eld Riley O. Warren, n Oscar, n Belina, n Andrew all having some dark few moments. Riley and I especially.

And if you do know me, whether that be from years ago, or you don’t like me anymore, or anything, unless you’re Pop or another unnamed person, don’t knot your knickers - I do actually have friends, and don’t wear knickers, or really care anymore, you won’t know me. Probably.

I don’t know how long the onward part of this will be, maybe three weeks until I come back on Radne, maybe a few months, maybe six odd years, or never. But, Randythewriter is dead, and he ain’t coming back. I feel like, deactivating the account is disrespectful, so I just cut all things unrelated on Randy, and then left it. I’m not cutting things here.

So, Radne will join him, and Idk, Ra the Kettle Roman will join the world fresh and new. (shrug) Not happening.

I know it’d be easy to find me. But this isn’t for you, whoever reads this. It’s for me.

-The-random-writer- died months ago, and now my current tumblrs are too, and while I’m not giving up the site, or the internet, which to be honest, I probably should have considering everything - guess the word strong somewhat applies to me, I’m giving up the things known.

Writing, eh, maybe in June, Pop.

SV was nice while it lasted in my mind, and yeah, I guess I’m beginning to structure it for myself, I guess it all changes when there’s no mate for Kettle-Kurt to lean on. But no, Aaron won’t go. But a lot will.

PG, Toby, dude, you’re dead as fuck, go back to your grave and do not try this hologram shit. And do not kill me, when I have a piece of paper in my hand saying ‘traitor’, I’ll get that on my wrist at some point, give me a break, I’ll get tattoos for your and Aarurt later on.. at some point. (Gravestone: Randy Roman, ‘97-2047, never kept his promises on tattoos. Because. Asshole.).

But, I’m dropping this account, if it wasn’t obvious. Oh, wait. I want another.

Death Row, or DR if we go with the trends of others, you mark my new, Riley, my man, you stick in there, and Andrew (apparently my actual name could be Randy, Randy is short for Andrew, weird fact from Randy), you keep investigating, you utter nutter. And Belina, have a heart, here, take mine, it was kinda stabbed in the front though.

What am I doing? Jake, you corrupted my fucking soul.

I’ve only said fuck twice - three times now, I’m doing good.

This is what three day weekends do to me, thank you bank holidays.

Oscar, be there for Riley, he’s a mess, just like yerself, quit parrot teaching, quit the repartes that break both yer hearts, and cuddle, ffs.

I’m the creator and telling them what to do instead of fixing them... Right...

JD, die. You little shit, die.

That’s over now.

So, I thought I’d do that, because I haven’t used wattpad in over a month, and even then, all I did was chat with an old friend, with no notifications for months.

I’ll probably still occasionally drop in on it.

WoW, bitch, you’ve been with me for two years, I think, I cannot quit you, my level 64 bastard who gets stupid tasks~. Randyroman, you have such a creative name and I love you. You’re just on a dead server. And Louis hates me for that one.

To the point. I’m done with this account, and being battered from both sides, mine and yours for feelings. *cough* yes, fucking hypocritical, yes, no caring in the world right now. Your biggest fighting method is something that happened once or twice, that I actually do not really remember, nor care, because in my eyes, I’m fairly glad it was sent to you, even if I hate myself so much for everything I’ve done, at least I finally came out of the ‘toxic’ arms that everyone told me you have. And that may be so, but I’m uncaring for opinions.

I smiled. Today, I’ve smiled and laughed and had a lot of fun. I haven’t felt it that much, to be honest. Poppy is a great laugh, but I’ve not really done too much of it until today. And that’s what’s opened my eyes a lot. From scribbling lyrics with Jake, or swinging on swings with Ellisha sitting on me, Adam and Jake either side of me, and an empty seat she could easily fucking sit on, to just eating breakfast and cheering when we found out Jake has his entire GCSEs correct and will begin them in a month or so, I’ve laughed and smiled.

I was happy. Actually happy. Even with HU in the background, the occasional stab in the front, and then MatPat raging, Caitlin crying in delight (we got cat today, lil kitten kute, or as Poppy will get - yes we actually did this, because, for some reason, I was allowed to choose the name - Kore le Kute, I’m spending so much more time here just for lil Kore, every weekend I want to be here), to just taking a nap, and not dreaming about terror, death, or you. I was happy.

Recently, I’ve had some lyrics coming left right and centre, so, I thought, I’d add some in the end.

But, this is probably goodbye from me today. And maybe awhile. Maybe, I’ll come back in June. I don’t know. There will probably be a tag with ‘q’ if I find anything I want to post for after this. And when there’s not, I’m probably back, from Ra the kettle Roman.

So, I want to be dehumanized, yes, and I’m not consuming enough food, seeking the help I need, or doing things I should be, but I’m doing this. Because maybe I want this pain, but maybe I want independence.

So, take your Randy shit, and seize this opportunity to post anything. I’m not crying tonight. I haven’t been crying for awhile. But my May onward resolution, is to not cry from you. For as long as possible.

I have about twenty thousand songs, but let’s try this.

“ I don't believe in all your demons anymore

It's hard to see with any reason from before

I lie awake and face these shadows in the night

I see the truth through crimson eyes”

“ Got my cards lined up in a row

Up in flames and away we go

Lost my name but it's etched in stone

Take me home when the cold wind blows.

Ain't no grave gonna hold me down

Wide awake so don't make a sound

Ain't no way you can break me down

No one sings, no escaping now”

“ Let go, oh

Love isn't good enough

Let go, oh

Love isn't good enough

And the waves in the sea

They slip away just like me

So let go, oh

You weren't good enough”

“Dark hearts don’t break, they bruise.”

“Cause I, I think of you now and then, the memories never end, when gravity pulls you in”

“ I am a lion and I want to be free

Do you see the lion when you look inside of me

Outside the window just to watch you as you sleep

'Cause I am a lion born from things you can not be”

“ Beneath the covers while I hide behind the pain

After all only so much we can say

Words can lose their meaning once you walk away

Promise me that you'll love me, watch me as I fade

I'll give you all the things that these lions never gave

The hands on the clock and the things we cannot change

Tearin' out the pieces and take back what I made

If there's one thing I'd keep, it's you that I would save”

“ I don't know why I cut myself.

God give me a sign or help, I won't cry.

It'll be fine I'll take my last breath.

Push it out my chest till there's nothing left.”

“Have you ever met a living legend,

Just a real friend who planned his end?

And where do I begin?

You said it was pretend.

And when the bullet went through,

It took more than just you.

It took two, it was you,

It was me, and suddenly.

How can someone say they're helpless,

And then they act so selfish?

You put me through hell with this,

So fuck you let's just end this.

And what about our friendship?

What you did was senseless.

You thought you found an exit?

Like I said, let's end this!”

“ Someone left the door open

Who left me outside

I'm bent, I'm not broken

Come live in my life

All the words left unspoken

Are the pages I write

On my knees and I'm hoping

That someone holds me tonight

Hold me tonight”

“ 'Cause I

I think of you now and then

The memories never end when

Gravity pulls you in

(You in, you in, you in, you in)”

All HU, nice songs, these are some I thought you’d like. Take me home, let go, gravity, lion, circles, the loss, outside.

And then just the entirety of True Friends, which I quite enjoy.

So, goodbye.

( Now I can see your pain, I'm sorry!

GOODBYE!

I cry so hard.

Now I can see your pain, I'm sorry!

GOODBYE!

I cry tonight!) (Pain - HU)

Goodbye for now,

Hasta luego.

Good day.

And I love you.

And if you decide to delete some of our memories, that’s okay. Danny and Da kurlzz have a little something to say to you.

And so do I.

But, I’d prefer you not to, maybe you’d like to look back at times. I don’t care if there are any pending messages from me, but the ones that exist, once they get deleted, maybe they’re gone forever. And I know you’re petty enough to now go delete them and make a few more telling me to piss off.

Maybe one day you’d want to look back. Maybe if you delete them from you, it deletes from mine too. So delete them all, if you delete any. You can keep the one that says that you wouldn’t care about my status as a human, alive or dead, for all I care, that’s what begun my thoughts and nightmares of you killing me. And yet you’ve said before that… that you don’t want me to die. Shock, horror, even I was surprised to have that quoted. I won’t call bullshit, only the truth of my thoughts.

Delete the happy moments, Hunter, if that is what you wish, don’t do it out of petty spite. Delete the happy and the sad, until there is no trace of us, until there are ten posts on Randythewriter, where you cannot visit, where there is only the evil on Radne, the truth and what you did to me. If that’s what you wish.

I know you saw last nights thing. So, fly to Andromeda, and take your posts with you.

Will.

Not.

Cry.

Over.

You.

I fucking loved you.

And finally,

I’m using the right word.

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