#its all very canon typical tho

[zrllosyn-art]

Vague hikari theorizing n stuff comic.

In which Hikari fights kaiju no 6.

[notgoldendaylight]

arcane made me come back here and all i see is jayvik??? i dont fucking care about viktor and jayce, im here for the sibling angst, found family and the lesbians

[elebicheee]

Insecure Attraction- X-MEN 97!Logan X F!Reader

A/N: I had to exorcise this from my system sksksksksksk. Might make a part two if anyone wants it.

Wordcount: 2142

Summary: Feelings grow like plants, and with plants come weeds that hinder that growth. After a close call on a mission Logan takes it upon himself to train you, and for a fleeting moment you think maybe your one-sided crush isn't as one-sided as you thought. Then you're interrupted, and jealousy rears its ugly head.

Warnings: Canon typical violence. Unrequited love but is it tho? Reader is described as taller than Logan and is referred to as she/her but no physical descriptions are used. Lowkey Jean Grey slander but its due to jealousy and misunderstanding.

PT2 height diff visual aid

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To say you'd spent most of your time in the mansion praying to whatever gods were out there that the telepaths on the property couldn't hear your thoughts was an understatement. Since you moved here everyone has been very welcoming and accommodating. And though you'd been a mutant your entire life, this was the first time you'd ever had to deal with mind readers. And that made you nervous.

Not because you had any sort of nefarious plans or dark treacherous secrets. But because you had a crush. A big one.

And you really, really, wanted to keep it under wraps because the thought of it ever turning into anything seemed so preposterous and far-fetched that your own feelings made you embarrassed. 

It started very slowly, your crush on Logan, so slow that by the time it had blossomed completely the roots were too deeply bedded to simply rip out. You didn't like him at first, he was brash, stubborn and pretty rude. And, not to mention, short. All things that you didn't like, at all. Surely. You'd entertained enough assholes in your life to want anything to do with him at all, and standing at almost six feet you knew how men reacted to feeling ‘lesser’. And by all accounts, you should want nothing to do with Logan-fucking-Howlett.

But here you were. It was strange how people's roles in one's mind changed without notice. 

Your powers were simple, being able to conjure panels of energy that you mostly used as shields for yourself or others. You had a pretty background position on the team, which you didn't mind at all given that before this you'd never really fought much. This relegated you to work on more ‘search and rescue’ missions after the big fights. Your panels allow you to keep buildings steady to give first responders time to get people out or keeping them safe during combat while they did their jobs. It was during these tasks that you saw the cracks in Logan’s gruff facade. 

It wasn't a secret that he all but ran towards the battlefield as soon as a skirmish started. But what most people didn't know was that he stayed, long after the battles ended. His body still healing from the damage, suit torn, he’d help anyone stuck under rubble, he'd take hits from falling debris in their place knowing that he could heal but they couldn't. 

“Fuck!” You heard his gruff voice nearby after the unmistakable sound of falling rubble and a fragile scream. You turned from the pillar you were holding in place to see Logan crouching over an elderly woman, a partially destroyed wall crumbled over his back.

“Logan!” You made sure it was safe to release your hold on the pillar before making your way to him carefully. There was some blood on his part but nothing he wouldn't walk away from. Making sure there was nothing stabbing him, you created a panel between his back and the shattered wall, keeping it firmly in place allowing him to move freely and carry the old woman to safety. Despite the obvious pain he was in he moved carefully, mindful of the old woman's fragility. You stared as he handed her carefully to the paramedics nodding wordlessly at her teary thank yous and walking away. It was only when you heard Scott call for your help that you released the wall you were holding in place, its impact on the floor waking you from your dazedness that you tore your gaze away from Logan's wounded back and continued to do your job. 

That was one of many moments that slowly chipped away at your crude first impression of him, and built something more for him inside your heart.

For the most part, you just observed from afar, convinced that this was enough for you. Because his heart already belonged to someone else. Because men don't like taller women. Because he wasn't the relationship-type unless it involved a certain redhead. Excuses, excuses, excuses. 

Every small act of kindness offered or thoughtful gestures that were meant only for those on the receiving end and no one else made the feeling in your chest tighter. Saving civilians, despite the very real possibility that they were mutant-hating bigots; Or offering reassurance to Morph when they were having a bad day. Every action just crushed your little heart bit by bit.

You wanted to bash your head against a wall.

Once you knew that Logan could be kind, it was impossible to not see every little act of kindness hidden beneath layers of brashness and sarcasm. Like right now.

After a particularly difficult mission you were overwhelmed by the amount of rubble and buildings you had to keep together as first responders cleared the area. Too overwhelmed to notice a rogue sentinel. Which would have gotten you killed, had Logan not been there.

Now you made your way through the simulation currently running in the danger room, dodging and redirecting attacks and falling debris thrown your way from the simulated sentinels. Logan though you didn't get enough time in the field, which made you rusty. And being rusty could mean death. Even though you knew this impromptu training session came from a place of care, you were perfectly fine with your rust. 

“This is so not necessary!” You yelled at him while taking cover behind an overturned vehicle, “I'm not a fighter, I'm a first responder!” A blast shot near your head and you turned and ran further away from the approaching sentinel.

“The Friends of Humanity and the sentinels won't care ‘bout that bub.” Logan answered sharply through the P.A. system, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. “You're a mutant, that's all they'll see. They'll take any chance they can get to kill ya.” Blocking a direct shot from the sentinel you gasped in exhaustion and ran into an alley. “You're not gonna give em’ that chance.” 

Fuck. He definitely wasn't gonna let you out of here unless you took down that sentinel or you were too wounded to continue. And you preferred it be the former rather than the latter. Partially because the latter came with a scolding, but mostly because you didn't want to break anything during a training session of all things. You took a breath. You weren't great at attacks, mainly because you lacked the control it took to make a plan and then move it, but you could do them. You crouched and looked back at the sentinel, it lost sight of you but it was coming closer, scanning. If you could line your shot just right, you could probably take it down in one shot. You needed to move in close, your focus, or lack thereof, wouldn't allow for any sort of long range attack.

You sighed deeply, feeling the burn of exhaustion in your lungs, and ran out and towards the thing. It was scanning a nearby building, and so long as you didn’t make too much noise you'd have a few precious seconds to get close enough to decapitate the thing. But luck was not on your side since a car you jumped over decided to blast it’s alarm. Great, you'd definitely have to try launching a plane from much farther than you anticipated. The sentinel turned to face you, standing at attention it raised an arm and shot a beam in your direction. You got low, dodging as you rolled in its direction. You focused the shape of the plan in your mind, raised your hand as you ran in the machine's direction and similar to a pitcher, accumulating all the force and focus you could, you threw the thing in its direction. 

Your knees buckled under you, they hit the simulated pavement. You looked up to see that your plane had left a cut on the sentinels face, it was deep enough to incapacitate the thing, but not the decapitation you were planning. But it worked the same. The thing fell forward, debris piling around it and in all directions. But before it could reach you the simulation disappeared. You sighed in relief and sat back.

Logan entered the now empty danger room and approached you. He kneeled in front of you, a smirk on his face.

“Now that wasn't so hard, was it bub?” He asked sarcastically, making sure you weren't seriously injured, but aside from a few knicks and scratches you were fine. Content with that knowledge he offered a hand to you. “Next time we'll try two.”

“Hilarious.” You deadpanned, taking his hand as he hauled you to your feet. You took in the feel of his calloused hand in yours, and for a moment wondered how many times of hurt it took for someone with a near perfect healing factor to have hands as callous as his’. You swallowed the lump in your throat, and ignored the heat crawling from your hand up to your neck. “I am never doing this again, thank you.” You continued letting go of his hand, you looked down at him desperately hoping he couldn't tell how you were feeling inside. With his enhanced senses, you could never know, but you schooled your features.

“C’mon kid, my teachin’ aint that bad.” He chuckled looking up at you. The way he never hesitated looking up at you, never took a step back to measure your height against his, even the first time you met, always added fuel to the fire in your heart. Men were always weird about you being taller than them, but never Logan. Sometimes you wished he would, then maybe you'd be able to look him in the eyes for more than a few seconds at a time.

“It's definitely intense.” You averted your gaze and bussied yourself with checking where you needed to have your uniform mended. Honestly unnecessary since Hank seemed to enjoy those tasks, but anything that could keep your gaze away from him was welcome. 

“You can handle it.” His voice was deep, husky. And for a single delusional moment you wondered if he was actually talking about the training. 

No. Surely not.

“Well, I'm glad one of us thinks so.” You tried to sound sarcastic, not flustered. You went to walk past him but he stopped you with a hold on your arm. You looked back at him, his gaze was serious, you ignored how it felt to have those eyes on you.

“I'm serious.” His voice was firm, his hand firm on your arm, not letting go. “You can handle this, you need to. You could've died out there.”

“I didn't, I'm fine.” 

“You almost weren't.” He grit his teeth, he brought up his other hand and held your other arm. Now you faced him fully. He was not letting you go. “I can't always be there to keep you safe, I need to know that you'll be okay even if I'm not there.”

“I-” You gaped at him, your face was so hot you feared you'd combust right there. You tried to squirm out of his grasp, but his hold was firm, the more you tried to escape him the firmer his hold became. “I appreciate the concern, but I promise I'm fine!”

“Listen-” The sudden swish of the entrance to the danger room cut him off. Both of you turned to face the door to find Jean Grey standing there. Instantly he dropped his hands, leaving you colder than you were before his touch.

“Am I interrupting something?” She asked, a hint of amusement on her face. “I can come back later.”

“No.” His answer was so immediate it felt like you'd been shot in the chest. “What do you need Jeannie?” He walked over to her, back to you. 

And there it was. 

She was his Jeannie. His everything. The girl he'd wait forever for even when she's clearly never looking his way, not really. For a moment you just watched them. The way he looked at her, the way she looked at him. Whatever they were saying was completely lost to you. The few feet between you and the pair felt like miles.

The other root took hold. Green and ugly. Jealousy. Was it fair to be so jealous over someone that would never be yours? The warm feeling in your chest turned cold, gripping and painful.

It wasn't fair. She has Scott, why was she still stringing Logan along?!-

Her gaze shot towards you, eyes wide.

Oh no.

no , no, no!

You'd thought too loud. She’d definitely heard you. Logan looked between the two of you, confused. He hesitated, but took a step towards you. 

You pushed past the pair, ignoring both their protests, heart hammering in your ears. If Logan called after you, you didn't hear him. 

You really hated living with telepaths.

[hylianane]

I have an opinion about Holly Kujo and I’m a little scared cause I dont know the Jojo fandom enough to come in with what I think is a hot take.

I’ve noticed that, in fanworks, a lot of people portray Holly as tougher than she is in the show. And it makes sense, cause the idea of her being so weak-willed that she couldn’t handle a stand when even baby Shizuka could manifest one is kinda bs and a testament to Araki not being very confident with writing women at the time (thank GOD he got better though, so, so much better).

But. What always gets me is when her relationship with Jotaro is written to be a little more standard, still loving but with the child having a healthy fear of their mom’s anger- unlike what we see in Stardust, with him constantly being a brat, calling her “bitch” and her shrugging it off with an “Okay!”. And also him getting himself thrown into jail while she still can’t bring herself to get mad, just upset. And that’s a very fun play on them too, but I just worry that people who default to this dynamic for Jojo and Holly might not see how the canon characterization of their relationship is interesting in its own right.

Because even tho Holly being a doormat is a creative choice born from Araki pussying out of giving her a stand, it doesn’t change the fact that once he made that choice he gave it great importance. I think the fact that Holly’s idea of supporting her son is just accepting everything he does without any anger, is central to their relationship. It’s how, despite having a mother who loves him unconditionally, Jotaro is still a very troubled teen and emotionally withdrawn. Though it’s easy to blame it on Sadao’s implied absence, or troubles in school, we don’t have a lot of textual evidence for that.

But kids who are raised without at least some semblance of discipline and structure typically stop seeing their parents as authorities, and most importantly, protectors. A more textually-backed explanation for why Jotaro is always acting tough and independent is because he doesn’t have any adults in his life who he would trust to help him. He loves his mom, he traveled the world to save her life, but while doing that he saw himself as her protector, not the other way around, not the way it typically should be.

Think about, for example, how the adult he mouths off to the least in his life is probably Avdol. And I think part of that is because Avdol walked into that police station, took one look at Jotaro, and instantly clocked everything I just said. Because while Holly and Joseph tried to to get him out with simple words (and for Holly, tears), Avdol was there to force him out. And at first Jotaro says, “If he tries to force me out, I’ll just stay here even longer”, but Avdol doesn’t give him a choice. And he doesn’t win by overpowering him (if he had, I dont think he’d have gotten the same positive result, I am not pro setting troubled teens on fucking fire) but he outsmarts Jotaro and doesn’t quit the fight until his goal is achieved. He stays in control of his emotions when talking to him, and proves himself to be someone strong and assertive. So later, on the trip to Cairo, Jotaro is more willing to rely on him than he is to rely on his own grandpa. (+, it’s a similar thing with Kakyoin, who he trusts almost more than anyone else, because he saw Kakyoin’s will and power first-hand when they met, and left with the lesson that Kak is someone he can rely on to protect of both himself and Jotaro. Someone with strong convictions, but most importantly, willing and capable of clashing with Jotaro if necessary.)

All this to fucking say. In a world in which Jotaro was raised to fear his parent’s reprimands (and I don’t mean fear to an unhealthy amount, an abusive amount), he would act very differently than he does in the show, and his relationships to other characters would probably look very different. Holly’s personality and parenting might seem like it was an afterthought to Araki, but I think he truly did take great care in making it consistent with her son’s character. She is a very loving mom, who is very loved in return, but what I think a lot of people perceive as a flaw in her writing is actually just a flaw in her character, with narrative weight and interesting consequences. And I’m not sure how many people are really aware of that.

[mikareo]

⌗ RATIONALISM ₊ ˖ ་. rin itoshi x fem reader (6.6k)

⊹ ⠀⠀ for as long as he can remember, rin's world has been in black and white - giving him no reason to appreciate his mother’s profession as an artist and the beauties that art can provide. however, an accidental meeting with you gives him reason to doubt his former beliefs - proving to him that there may be true beauty in a world that’s void of everything bright, that beauty being the sunshine that you provide. 

contains; colorblind!rin, painter!reader, rin's mom is reader’s art mentor, rin hates art, strangers to friends to lovers, major crushing from both sides, slow burn but also not slow burn (like a nice simmering burn), swearing, fluff, reader acts like she’s on an adrenaline rush 24/7, jealousy, angst, explosive arguments, lowkey toxic, extremely inaccurate depictions of colorblindness!!, rin sucks at flirting (very canon of him...) author's note; there'll be a part two titled "romanticism" eventually. idk when tho asjkl (i’m a slow writer XD)

Whenever the sun meets its peak at the high dawning point in the sky is when Rin knows it's a perfectly acceptable time to visit his oh-so-beloved mother. If he could, he would spend every waking moment with her - he’s a momma’s boy through and through - not only because she birthed him and taught him everything he knows, but because she’s kind and good. She’s also one of - scratch that - she’s the only person he can stand to be around for more than twenty four hours - and he takes great pride in having such a wonderful woman in his life.

However, despite how dearly he holds his mother to his heart, the issue with visiting her at this time of day is that she’s in her art studio. A place he loathes more than having to wear wet socks with sneakers. While it’s a beautiful space, with high wooden beams and floor to ceiling windows, he finds himself nauseous at the mere sight of the countless tubes of oil and acrylic paints. It’s not that the smell or colors are distasteful, it’s the fact that no matter how hard he squints and struggles, he cannot fathom what the simple color red looks like.

Complete black and white color blindness isn’t a life threatening condition in the slightest, but for Rin, it feels as if he’s being stabbed through the sternum at any notion of the changing leaves or colorful streaks of light across the sun-setting sky.

He doesn’t hate his mother for being an artist, he simply hates the art itself.

And he especially hates pieces of art like the one sitting before him, now. With the blobs of squares and triangles against the supposedly white canvas, sitting perky on the easel as if to mock him - he decides to reach his hand out - and remind himself how emotionally detached acrylic paints make him feel. It’s wet, he observes, rubbing his thumb and pointer finger together to mix the possibly different hues. Rin hopes he didn’t ruin the artist’s painting in any way, he wouldn’t know if he’d accidentally smeared shading or contrasting primaries - but surely the artist could fix it in a jiffy.

“Do you like it?”

Well, that certainly isn’t his mother’s voice.

“I tried using cooler tones in the corner here, and then migrated towards warmth in the lower portion.” You’re beside him now, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with his position, and completely ignoring his personal space - all while he’s never met you before this day. Your finger is extended, pointing towards the artistic decisions you’re elaborating on that, in all honesty, he doesn’t give two shits about. “I’m thinking about sketching some paper cranes on top of it all, I want it to represent the change of seasons.”

“What do you think?”

You’re staring at him now, bright eyes shining with curiosity. Rin is at a loss for words, mostly due to your unannounced appearance in the studio, but also because you’re possibly the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid his eyes on - which is shocking, considering the sight of thick paint smudged against a person’s face typically sends him running the opposite direction. He’s never felt an immediate connection to the women of his past - however you, a strange girl who resembles a dog waiting for its treat, has his heart beating at twice the rate.

“I like this shape.” Rin purses his lips into a straight line, never having felt so awkward in his whole life. “This square is nice, too.”

You look utterly unimpressed with his evaluation. Your nose is scrunched in distaste and the fold beneath your right eye seems to be twitching in disapproval for your own artwork. “That’s all that you like?” You step ever so slightly closer to him, chin tilted up to meet his gaze, before retreating quickly and coddling your painting. “Perhaps I overestimated my color palette. I really thought it would be the outstanding moment of this piece, but I guess I could rework it if the shapes are all that matter—”

“Did you touch my painting?”

Oh boy, he’s in for it now.

A nervous laugh leaves his mouth, embarrassing him further as he reaches up to scratch the back of his neck in an attempt to look casual, only for you to grab his wrist out of thin air. “Oh my god, you did!” Your mouth is agape, inspecting his tattered skin in shock - yet somehow he knows that you aren’t truly upset with him - you don't seem like that kind of person. “Did you not realize that you’ve got scarlet red all over your palms?”

Rin’s mind is blank, his ability to form coherent sentences is gone, and he can only muster up the cheesiest, most terribly dreadful joke that he’s said in the twenty three years he’s been alive.

“I guess you caught me red handed?”

There’s a moment of silence, with the two of you displaying the most aloof expressions either of you have ever made, until your face lights up with laughter. He doesn’t understand what could possibly be so funny - his joke was awful - but the sound of your contagious fits of giggles make his heart feel a little bit warmer in a place that he commonly feels suffocated in. For the first time, the studio gives him a sense of comfort rather than distress - and he knows it's because he’s developing a very clear crush on the pretty girl beside him. 

You’re hysterical, resembling that of insanity while Rin is simply stuck in time. He can’t tell if he should be steadying you before you trip over your own feet or if he should simply take his leave and forget this day ever happened. 

“I don’t mean to be rude,” he begins, watching you wipe a tear of laughter from the crinkle of your right eye, “but why are you here? Do you have an appointment, because I could’ve sworn there weren’t any other people that were allowed in the studio at this hour—”

“Oh, I do know you!” The volume of your voice just seems to get louder and louder. “You must be Miss Itoshi's son! She always mentions how lovely her little boy is, I can’t believe I’m finally meeting you! Though, I expected you to be like six or seven, not my age. She should’ve mentioned that you were handsome, not cute - she really chose every adjective other than the ones that wouldn’t make you sound like a primary schooler.”

Does she ever stop talking? Rin doesn’t think he’s ever heard another person ramble on-and-on like you do. Normally he’d have ended the conversation by now, walked away without a second thought of whether he acted rude or not, but he knows that his mother would strangle him if he was to blatantly disregard her current favorite student. The student that she loves telling him stories about at the dinner table every Sunday night as he’s just trying to eat his fingerling potatoes in peace.

The same student who he’s somehow enjoying talking to - though it’s mostly just you talking to his blank face - and is causing a soft yellow blush to form on his cheeks. He doesn’t actually know if yellow is the color related to blushing, but he thinks he’s read it somewhere before. 

“Anyways, to answer your question—”

Rin feels like he’d asked you hours ago.

“—I’d walked all the way to the train station and realized I’d forgotten my wallet here - which is strange because normally I never forget anything. I’m a very organized person—”

Yeah, he doesn’t believe that. 

“—and then I had to run all the way back here—”

Your shoes are scuffed. You definitely tripped on the way.

“—where I accidentally ran into a stroller…poor baby—”

Yep. Tripped.

“—which led me to you!”

You’re smiling now and Rin doesn’t think he’s seen so many teeth shining at him in all of his life. God, do you ever run out of energy? No matter, he knows exactly where your missing item is. The anonymous wallet had been the first thing his eyes had grazed over when striding towards your artwork - good thing it’s only an arm’s reach away.

He snatches the wallet from the art easel and is pleasantly surprised by the quality of the possibly monochromatic leather. The clasp is simple, requiring just one twist before the contents of your identity are laid out before him. “Well, it’s nice to meet you,” Rin recites the name written on your license and holds the items out to you, to which you reach out, eager to reunite with your belongings. However, at the last second he waves it in the air - away from your dying fingertips - and clicks his tongue two times. “Try not to lose it again. It’s a luxury brand, isn’t it? I like the black color.”

“Black?” Shit. The tilt of confusion your head makes indicates that your wallet is not, in fact, black. “I’m either stupid or color blind, but this is red.”

Before Rin can respond, he’s saved by the bell. Well, technically his savior isn’t an actual bell, but you get the gist. “Miss Itoshi!” Thank god she’s finally here to distract you. He’s been fighting to maintain his pride throughout your entire interaction. “I made an extra trip to the studio and ran into your son, here! You weren’t lying when you said he’s a little quiet - honestly, I feel like I’ve been talking to myself this whole time.”

You quite literally have been doing that very thing for the past ten minutes. 

“Oh, Rin! Have you been acting rude?” His mother’s expression is tense, stricter than the time he ‘accidentally’ took her (grey?) Kia Soul on a joyride that one weekend he and Sae decided to go on a midnight run to the department store. “Please don’t mind him at all, dear. You see, he doesn’t exactly get out much - his social skills might be a little underdeveloped.”

She can’t actually be saying this right now. This is exactly why he hasn’t had a girlfriend in months - his mother embarrasses him in front of every pretty girl they come across in the first two minutes of saying ‘hello’. It isn’t that Rin is a terrible flirt - which he is, but he likes to deny it - it’s that he loves his mother so much that he can’t bear to tell her that her attempts at ‘hooking him up’ are always bound to fail. 

However, you don’t appear to be phased by her words. If anything, you’re actually pleased by the sound of him being socially impaired. 

“That’s actually perfect!”

What.

The.

Fuck?

“He can be my portrait model!” You’re still talking. Please, for the love of God, stop talking. “You know how I’ve been trying to become better skilled in the emotional aspect of my paintings, he could definitely help me out by showing anxiety and embarrassment - and you’ve been telling me it’s about time that I found myself a model.”

The endless trail of words that continue to string from your mouth seem to reach their end. Rather than speaking in spitfire, you’re now crazily staring at Rin, himself. Both of your fists are clenched together in a pleading hold and he doesn’t think that you’ve blinked since the start of your conversational rampage - but despite the absurdity of your proclamation, he believes you have good intentions. There really is no reason to deny the request - after all, he’d be helping out his mother in the process, she does love having successful students - but he just can’t imagine himself spending any more time in the dreadfully grey studio than he already does. 

“I don’t think that would be a very good idea, ______.” His mother catches your words before he has a chance to give you his own oral letter of rejection. “Rin’s never been one for art.”

“Oh.”

All you have to say is ‘oh’? 

“I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you continue. The expression on your face is suddenly stern. Has he offended you in some way by saying no? “I’ll figure something else out, Miss Itoshi. I apologize if I overstepped.”

You’re bowing your head before him now, and Rin is shell shocked. His first impression of you was undoubtedly a dud, considering how you actually do seem to have a rational bone in your body despite the hyperactivity you displayed just moments before. While he’s mustering up a response, you lift your eyes - lashes fluttering like upwards brush strokes on a canvas - and send a small smile his way. It’s as if you’re silently apologizing to him for the undivided attention you tormented him with, but he doesn’t want you to apologize. 

He just doesn’t know how to say that he actually liked your personality. 

God, he’s so bad at flirting. 

“Thanks for finding my wallet, though.” Your fingers are suddenly touching his, momentarily grazing against his skin as you pluck your wallet from his hands. There’s no chance that you haven’t noticed the rising heat that’s currently warming the blossoms of his cheeks, and he hopes that you find it endearing. While he isn’t great with words, he likes to think that he may be at least a little bit cute. His mother always calls him a ‘cutie’ - which he appreciates, but it’s also so degrading for someone of his age. “Maybe I’ll be forgetful more often, now.”

He hopes you’ll start being more forgetful, too.

You’ve left your entire bag this time. 

He can’t tell if you’re trying to be subtle and coy with the budding feelings that’re growing between the two of you, and you’re just as awful at flirting as he is - or if you’ve just given up on leaving small signs of attraction. Honestly, in the past few weeks of you leaving paintbrushes and lanyards in the studio, he’d assumed it was all naturally an accident. This, though? How do you expect him to believe that you left your entire satchel in the studio? Sure, you can be a little dense, but not that dense. 

It’s obvious that you’ve begun to lose track of your belongings for the simple reason that you enjoy partaking in the awkward exchange of items when you ‘hastily’ return to the empty renovated greenhouse and get to act surprised to see him standing there with his arms full of things with your name written all over them. In fact, this instance has happened so often that Rin is beginning to believe that he actually enjoys it, too. 

Sometimes he thinks that maybe you should just write your name on him to speed up this dreadful ‘will they, won’t they’ process that you’ve been pacing together. 

He likes you. He really really likes you, and you both know it.

You’d picked up on his feelings from the second time you met - when he willingly stayed behind in the studio for an extra two hours just to hear you ramble about the difference between heavy and soft body acrylic paints. There was something about the way you grinned at him. How your chin would angle upwards to his height in order to have a proper conversation. How you weren’t afraid to say anything and everything that was on your sporadic mind. How your eyes would sparkle at the dedicated eye contact he was making - letting you know that he was hanging on to every word that left your lips (which he just recently found out are pink - and boy does he wish to know what that undoubtedly lovely color looks like against your skin). 

He hates to compare you to a painting - which he still finds a positively dreadful blob of nothingness - but to him, you are one. You’re a captivating piece of art hanging on the walls of the nationally acclaimed museum in his mind. 

A captivating piece of art whose art of subtlety is extremely lacking, considering that your phone number is quite literally painted on the largest white canvas your easel can hold, in bold lettering that he would have to be visually blind to miss, plastered behind the hiding place of your bag.

‘P.S. It's written in red paint. I know you have a thing for red.”

As much as he likes you, you can be such a pain in his ass. The bane of his existence, if you will. 

It pains him to notice how he hadn’t thought twice about typing the digits into his text bar, smiling to himself at the sight of your make-shift contact with the horrid selfie you’d taken on his phone to be your future contact picture. Your hair is an utter mess, with flecks of paint scattered across your hairline - which, to be honest, look like dandruff to him with their lack of vivid color, but he told you that they resemble snowflakes. He lied - but what you don’t know doesn’t hurt you. 

Without hesitating, he types a singular ‘hey’ before backtracking. What if you don’t know that it’s him texting you? What if you think that it’s a random stranger who just so happened to be in the art studio and thought to add your contact information to their phone? He better be more clear. 

‘Hello, ______. You know me.’

Perfect. 

In less than a split second, you respond. He can feel his nerves itching at the sight of the grey text bubble popping in and out of view. Ring can’t even remember the last time his heart beat so fast. Perhaps when he was standing in front of his secondary school health classroom and he accidentally mistook a photo of the urinary system with the ovaries during a speech about the female menstrual cycle? The stream of liquid projected against the white board was in fact not what he thought it was (how was he supposed to see the difference between red and yellow?), which turned into a horribly disgusting presentation that Sae still bothers him about to this day. That was dreadful - but this is definitely equally as dreadful, if not more.

‘Stalker much?’ Huh? ‘Hi though, Rin. That text was very…you.’

‘You added my number pretty quickly.’ Man, you text really fast. ‘You just couldn’t resist me, could you?’

He doesn’t know what to say back. It’s as if his mind has been scraped raw of all romantic material that one would usually use in this situation - the situation in which an unbelievably pretty girl is talking to him through a phone screen. Rin is completely frozen in place, time, and thought. The only part of him that isn’t paralyzed is the hole in his chest that is beginning to be thawed by you. His frozen heart of past relationships has found its fire - and oh does it burn for you. 

“Cat got your tongue?”

Where the fuck did you come from?

Swiveling on his heel, he turns to face your approaching figure. Your footsteps are lighter than air, likely being the reason as to how you managed to stealthily sneak in so quietly while he had been distracted with his phone. The light denim jeans that cover you from waist to ankles are perhaps his favorite pair you own. You’ve painted on them over time, sketching out a garden of patterns that don’t require color to appreciate. Your artistic ability is uncanny - he can’t deny the fact that you’re incredibly skilled - and he believes that you should be given an award for making ‘art’s number one hater’ a growing fan. 

“You left your bag.” No shit, Captain Obvious. “Do you want it back?”

He’s so bad at this. 

You skip towards him, your left foot following your right in a rhythm of peppiness, and lean up towards him with a shine in your eyes. God, you look so pretty. Sure, seeing you from a comfortable distance with an easel separating your bodies was nice and all, but when you pull stunts like this - with no room for him to scurry off and run - he actually takes the time to digest your features in their true beauty. You’re the artist, yet he seems to be the one who’s always studying you.

“Do you have any plans for today?” You ask in a curious tone. Your hands are held together behind your back as you send him a beaming grin with an upturned lip. “—because I was thinking about grabbing some tea, and it would be so unfortunate if I had to go all alone and sit by myself with all of those strangers around me. Who knows what could happen? If only there were someone who could protect me in case a sleazy guy asks for my number…”

Are you trying to manipulate him, right now?

“I’ve got nothing to do today.”

—because he’ll gladly let you do so. 

The peaks of your eyebrows raise in surprise, not expecting him to accept the offer so quickly. Over the short time you’ve known one another, you’ve noticed that Rin’s reluctance to spend one-on-one time with you has dwindled. He’s slowly becoming more comfortable in your presence and whatever inner turmoil that he’s facing is fading into the tide of your raging tsunami. There’s a peaceful gaze behind his brown eyes, now. One that you love to study whenever he isn’t looking your way (which isn’t often). 

“Then it’s a date!” Surging forwards, you take his arm in yours and link yourselves together. He’s initially shocked by the immediate physical connection you’ve managed to make within mere seconds, but he thinks that he likes it. It’s been so long since he’s even held hands with a girl, so he’s understandably tense, but you’re giving him time to adjust. After all, scaring him away would be your last intention. “I’ll even pay for your drink, since you were kind enough to find my lost satchel.”

“Yeah, your lost satchel was so hard to find.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He smiles to himself.

Yes, you do.

He isn’t sure how, but he’s somehow burned his tongue again. 

“Shit!” Rin hurriedly places his mug down onto the circular wooden table that separates the two of you, while attempting to be gentle since he doesn’t want to waste the perfectly tasty coffee that you paid for. He groans, dabbing the corners of his lips with one of the complimentary paper napkins. “Why does it get me every time?” 

This is perhaps the third week in a row that you and him have ditched the studio and decided to claim the neighboring cafe as your designated date spot - though you’re still an unofficially exclusive couple. Unofficial as in Rin hasn’t found the nerves to ask you to be his girlfriend, and exclusive as in neither of you are nor want to see other people. It’s a confusing situation for both parties to be in, but he just can’t seem to take that next step with you no matter how hard he tries to push himself towards the ideal solution. 

Rin is a rationalist. He takes in the information given to him through interactions and associations, working through it with logistics on his mind, and tries to find the best outcome. It’s how he’s lived every hour and every day of his adulthood, and he’s fairly set in stone with his mannerisms at this point. He always known who he is, what he wants, and how to obtain those things. What he didn’t know, though, was that an unpredictable variable (you) would crash into his life and disarray the routine that he’d been building for twenty-three years. 

The hypothesis born of the situation isn’t a difficult one to solve, after all he’s had it written down for a month: if Rin finds the courage to ask you to be his girlfriend, then you’ll likely say yes and the two of you will live happily ever after. Easy, right?

Wrong. He’s a chicken.

“Here. This might help you cool down.”

Your arm is extended, offering him your drink of the day without hesitation. Every time you come here, arm-in-arm, you order something different. ‘There’s no fun without surprise’, is what you tell him after the consistent strange glances he sends your way when you’re ordering, and he can’t help but disagree. You’re very different individuals - and that difference is extremely apparent with the light, mint garnished tea in your glass compared to the dark roast coffee in his. 

“Thanks, ______, you’re a lifesaver.” He sighs in relief as the cool liquid flows down his throat in an internal waterfall. “Holy shit, this is actually so good.”

You laugh, “I would hope so. I only got it because of the photo on the menu. It’s like a rainbow of color.”

And there it is. The thing that isolates him the most from your world. 

As much as he likes you, which is more than he can explain, he can’t help but have that itching thought at the back of his mind that you’ll never truly be able to connect with one another. You bask in the beauty of the world around you. From the apparent golden sun showers and bouquets of stark red roses - two things that you’ve described to him in great detail amidst your walks through the farmer’s market on Saturday mornings -  to the countless brush strokes against the white canvas at his mother’s studio, you adore a world in color. 

It’s a viewpoint that’s shaped who you are, from infantry to your current age of twenty-two, and it’s something that you’ll never be able to let go of. 

To be quite frank, it scares him. It keeps him up at night knowing that seeing the world through your eyes is impossible. That it’s a far off dream that is unobtainable, taunting him in his mind and heart like a bone dangling in front of a dog’s face. He wishes that he could admire the blue streaked skies and emerald green ferns that line the streets of the city. He yearns to feel overcome with pride at the sight of your watercolor drafts - which you attempt to show him after every class session to no avail - and congratulate you on the progress you’re making. There are so many things that he dreams of doing with you, dreams that exist solely in your world, as they’ll never be possible in his. 

He hasn’t officially asked you to be his yet, because how could he?

How could he bind you to him? You’d be miserable looking through his eyes - having to see only hues of black, white, and grey, similar to the pencil sketches that you’ve openly shown your hatred for in front of him. ‘There’s just nothing there,’ is what you mumble to yourself. ‘No life, no anything without color.’ To which you then drop a single ounce of paint against the seemingly dreadful piece of art - and the sparkle in your eyes as it comes to life is something that he loves to see but can’t understand… 

…as you see the world in a way that he can never understand. 

Rin doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to tell you about his condition. It would end everything all at once, and he isn’t sure how he would recover from that kind of heartbreak. You’re so blissfully unaware of how much conflict runs through his veins on a daily basis. Hell, you don’t even notice how he orders a singular black coffee every time you approach the counter together. You don’t see how he struggles to agree with you as you admire the assortment of blended beverages with a forced smile on his face. You don’t understand why he chooses to indulge in such a bitter drink and make sure to comment on it every single time.

He can’t blame you, though - it really is disgusting - but he also can’t tell you that he orders his coffee black since it’s a universal drink that appears the same to everyone who sees it. At least when he’s holding the steaming mug between his large palms, he knows that it appears to you as it does to him. That the divide that’s ripping a ravine through your connected hands is lessened in a sense - and you’re truly viewing one thing as the same. 

Which is why he sits pretty and appreciates the short time that you do spend together, and suffers through piping hot coffee three times a week with no interruptions. 

“I think I’ve made some progress on my portfolio.”

Your drink has been returned to your hands now. The small, clear glass is ringing as you tap the sides with your fingernails. It’s somewhat soothing, the rhythm following the tune of one of your favorite songs that Rin happens to know very well after walking in on you in the middle of ‘art therapy’, in which you blast the music at full volume and deafen all other sounds. You have a tendency to be impatient - art being the only thing that can really pin you down for a long period of time - yet you’ve made room in your heart for Rin despite this. 

“Really?” Rin dabs his mouth carefully, being ever the proper suitor in your presence. “My mom hasn’t given you any recent critiques?” 

“No, she has.” As your words continue, you take a long sip of your tea. He can feel his cheeks flush while you swallow. He loves anything you do. “Just little comments about negative space and color theory, but I’m getting there.”

“Nice.”

He doesn’t know how to respond to that.

“Yeah, nice.” 

Despite his seemingly rude reaction, you’re still gazing at him with a smile on your face. It isn’t an exceedingly joyful smile or one of excitement, but something of contentedness. You’ve become comfortable around him - shedded the hyperactive layers of skin that you display to onlooking strangers - and have begun to share the side of yourself that only your bedroom walls know. Seeing this side of you has made him fall even harder. Knowing that someone so confident, so bold, is just like him - caring so much about first impressions and likeability - and has their own insecurities is validating. Validating in the sense that you find him special enough to throw away the filter and be your true self in his presence. 

“You know,” you begin in a wistful tone, “you aren’t a man of many words, Rin - and if I’m being totally honest, my patience is running out.” 

He hopes this isn’t going where he thinks it is.

He’s not letting you ask him out before he can—

“What am I to you?”

Oh.

Your eyes are giving him an expectant look, now. 

What the hell is he supposed to say to that?

This is the quietest you’ve ever been, you aren’t even swirling the star-shaped ice cubes in your strawberry lemon tea. 

Why can’t he think of anything to say?

His silence is causing you to furrow your eyebrows in concern. 

This is so embarrassing. Just say something. Anything. 

“You’re my mom’s student.”

Anything but that.

“I’m…” the words at the tip of your tongue seem to dissolve like damp sugar cubes, “I’m your mom’s student.”

Your sentence is more of a statement than a question. It’s as if there’s a machine in your brain, working through his given answer and comparing all of the other possibilities he could’ve said. There were endless responses to your inquiry, and he somehow managed to pick the worst one. 

He needs to fix this. How can he fix this?

“You’re not just a student, though.” His words are tumbling over one another in somersaults and you seem to perk up at his continuity. The hope in your heart grows a little bit larger, pulsating and yearning for him to say exactly what you’d been wanting for weeks-on-weeks. “You’re my mom’s special student.” 

Oh God, he made it worse.

“What?” Rin tries to reach for your hand in an attempt to compensate for his actions through physical touch, but you retaliate and instinctively jerk away. You quickly stand, drink in hand, and back away from him as he follows like a lost puppy. Your head is shaking from right to left, disbelief exerting from the pores of your skin like poison - sentencing him with death while it seeps through his gaping mouth and empty palms. “I’m a special student?” 

How the hell are you so fast?

Within seconds the two of you are at odds outside of the building. The weather is somewhat chilly - springtime having just come around with the cherry blossoms in full bloom - and it’s probably a beautiful day with the petals raining down on the pavement. You’d usually make a comment about how wonderful the horticulture was outside of the shop, but now you’re stomping over every fallen flower and budding stem that lies in the way of your rage-filled path. He’d always thought of you as a gentle soul, but apparently even gentle souls have their breaking points - and he never dreamed that he’d be yours.

“If I’m so special, what makes me different from the girl before me and the one before her?” This is the first time you’ve ever raised your voice at him. “Did you take all of them out for drinks? Did they all get to spend one-on-one time with their mentor’s ‘handsome’ son? Did you lead all of them on, too? Rin, what kind of answer is that?”

You’ve found yourselves in an alcove now - about a block from the cafe in a small garden nestled between two buildings. The blossoming trees continue to surround you from all sides, perfectly framing the tragic picture of him saying anything and everything you absolutely do not want to hear. A large sigh leaves your lips, heaving from your chest as if he’s popped a balloon and is pushing all of the air out with the strength of his smooth hands. 

“That’s not what I meant!” He pauses as you halt in place, slowly turning to face him like you're something out of a horror movie - a monster who’s ready to murder their prey. A gulp runs down his Adam’s apple. You’re terrifying when upset. “Please, just let me explain!”

“Explain what?” Rin flinches at your volume. “If you want to explain yourself so badly then tell me why the hell would you say something like that?”

“Sure, you aren’t the best with banter or having a crush - but dear God, you cannot possibly be that dense.” This is getting bad. “I’ve left hundreds of hints! Every single goddamn day - and you’ve picked up on all of them! You know, I thought that when you’d hold my hand or kiss my cheek that you actually meant something by it. I figured ‘he spends so much time with me, he can’t possibly not like me’, but no. I’m just a student.”

Your face is fuming with every dreadful word that comes out of your mouth. “Oh, sorry. I’m a special student.”

If this were a scene in an animated film, your hair would be on fire now. Flames as high as mountain tops would be spiking in sharp peaks at every end of sentence and statement spitting from your mouth. Your normally warm irises would be drawn as ice cold, not leaving any room for life as they skate across his timid features - wishing for him to reach freezing level so you could smash him into a million pieces. 

You’d always told him that red and blue - fire and ice - were two things that you admired most. With their ever changing states of matter and forceful power amidst the seasons, he found himself believing as you do. Rin actually learned to appreciate their vast palette as if he could see it with his own eyes - but now? Now he thinks that they’re the two worst things in the universe - as their destructive nature has decided that their target is him, and he has absolutely no defenses prepared. 

“I should’ve caught on sooner, shouldn’t I have?” You’re still going, hot tears building up and threatening to stream down your cheeks. Never in his life has Rin been at the receiving end of such anger - and never in his life has he learned how to manage a situation as such. So, he does what any clueless man would do - he returns the anger. 

“You’re not even listening to me!” His hands are violently moving while his words cut like knives. “You never listen to me!”

“I never listen to you?” He’s apparently hit another nerve. “Is that some kind of sick joke? Rin, all I do is listen to you! It may not look like it, but I see the way you tense whenever I talk about my passions and dreams. I notice the way your face drains when I’m asking you for your opinion on my works in progress. Sometimes it’s like I can physically hear your eyes rolling when they see me walk into the studio with my bag of brushes and materials. Yet, you think that I don’t listen? I take note of every single thing that you do when you’re around me, because I don’t want to miss out on a single moment with you, and you don’t even care!”

He can’t believe that you’re pinning this on him.

“How could you even say that?” Rin can’t tell who’s in the right or wrong anymore - all he knows is that if he doesn’t stop speaking, you’ll walk away forever. “I’ve never cared about anyone as much as you! I’ve done my best to entertain your interests and the absurd things you ask of me—”

“Well, your best hasn’t been enough.”

You’ve got to be fucking kidding.

“Are you being serious, right now?” 

Your eyes are stoney, rock solid with stubbornness as you refuse to accept his side of the story and he knows that you won’t be budging from the beliefs that you’re choosing to hold against him. Rin doesn’t know how everything went so wrong so fast, but he does know that he doesn’t have what it takes to save the situationship that he mistakenly put the two of you in. 

“What the fuck did I do wrong that you resent me this much? Not even an hour ago all you wanted was to see me get down on one knee and profess my ‘undying’ love for you.” He’s so angry. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this angry. “Now I’m some asshole who doesn’t give a shit about your wellbeing? If everything I’ve done hasn’t been enough, then I might as well go fuck myself, right? I’m sorry I’m not perfect like you! I’m sorry I can’t see the world through crystal lenses like you! I’m sorry that I’m not good enough for you!”

His face feels wet. When did he start to cry? Was it ten minutes ago? Five? Just now? The hurricane of emotions that he’s putting himself through is more than he’s endured in years - his mental blockage of his condition finally coming to light as his heart runs off of the rails - and you’ve definitely seemed to notice considering the concern etched into your expression. 

“I was never going to be perfect for you,” he begins with a softer tone. Perhaps his hot bundle of rage has subsided for a few moments. “I can’t be with you. I can’t understand how you see the world. I couldn’t spend the rest of my life listening to you ask me all of these questions and opinions on your work when I can’t even see it fully.”

You’re so close to him. Somewhere in the flurry of words, you took a step in his direction. “Rin, what’re you talking about?”

As he bites his bottom lip with the fear of judgment raging in his mind, his secret is set free. 

“I’ve always liked this shirt on you,” he solemnly smiles, “This shade’s my favorite color that you wear.”

You look up at him, pulling at the fabric against your chest in confusion. “Red?”

“Grey.”

He’s laughing lightly, making up for the thoughtful silence that you’ve found yourself in. It’s like he can physically see the gears turning in your head as they attempt to make sense out of his statement. “It’s more of a rich grey - almost black - and it compliments your skin tone. You know, my mom used to tell me that the way to a woman’s heart is through compliments. I’ve always tried my best to do that, but it clearly hasn’t been working.”

His hands somehow find yours as he shares the inevitable truth he’d been hiding so hard - and with a deep gulp, his secret is finally exposed.

“After all, how could I ever reach someone’s heart without even knowing what color their eyes are?”

part two is ready!!!!! read romanticism here

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[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

Datura Pt 15

Author's Note: Darrrrrlllllliiiiinnnngggg guess who's back from jail the debilitating cycle of mental illness?

Seriously tho, thank ya'll for sticking with me I have not been able to write more than a couple paragraphs a day lately. Please enjoy meeting a couple familiar faces, as a treat.

Content Warnings: Canon Typical Violence

Previous Chapter/Masterlist

-----------------

Giving the High Lords’ their powers back is, surprisingly, the easiest part of the next hour. Reaching into your power well, untangling the threads of each of them, swirling together within you is easy compared to getting them to agree on anything. They all stand there, in what’s left of the Throne Room, yelling at each other about what’s to be done about your father. Rhys and Helion want him dead now, the Cauldron returned to its resting place. Beron and Tarquin want to go home and be done with the whole mess. Kallias and Thesan want to try and muster their armies, in case of all out war. 

By this point its all a jumble of nonsense in your ears. You’re so tired. Rhys, with his powers returned, is healing nicely from the wounds you’ve inflicted, and despite all he’s endured, he’s the one holding you upright as you lean into his side. It’s taking all your energy to just keep your eyes open, to not give into the warmth that radiates from his skin, and sink into it. 

“We are wasting time!” Helion agrues.

“What he does in the Human Lands is no business of ours!” Shouts Beron.

You’d snarl at him if you had the energy; every time he opens his mouth you wish you’d had the presence of mind to give his powers to Eris instead, but the headache from holding all that had gotten so bad you’d thought your head might actually burst if you didn’t expel as much of it as you could. As is, Tamlin’s powers still prowl beneath your skin; finding him will be a challenge you’ll have to face later, once this threat is finally over.

Rhys’s hand strokes your side soothingly as he comes to Helion’s defense, his snarl making the room shake. He is a sight to behold at full power, everything about him seems to dim the impressive powers around him. Wisps of shadows twirl around his body, twining around your own in exploration. A welcome darkness. You’d like very much to fall into it and not think about any of this for weeks and weeks.  

“We are getting nowhere with this,” Kallias insists. “Let us return home and send out spies. We are of no help to anyone if we end up dead because we went in blind.”

“We cannot wait that long,” Helion presses. 

“We won’t need to,” Rhys says, flicking a bit of lint off his shoulder. “My spy should be here with news any minute now.”

Even you crane your head up to look at him, surprised. He hasn’t moved from the Throne Room, is only now dressed because he summoned something from a pocket realm, when would he have had the time?

He merely winks at you as he says to the others, “Once he arrives, we will make our decision.”

“And we should trust a word from your spies?” Beron snarls. “As we should trust a story about the Cauldron from her.” He’s been rather pissed that a female had wielded his powers, and has taken every opportunity to take a shot at you since getting them back. As if diminishing your ability cleansed them of whatever womanly germs you may have gotten on them. 

“I gave you those powers of my own free will, I can take them back any time I desire,” you warn. 

He has the good sense to step away from you, at least, even if his disdain is palpable.

“The next time you look at my mate like that,” Rhys snarls so low the lights in the room start to wink out. The stars that usually glitter in his violet eyes shrink, pupil expanding until it’s nearly black. “I’ll separate your head from your shoulders.” His shadows deepen, swirling around him.

Mate. The word clangs through them like a warning bell and there are various reactions of disgust and surprise. Helion claps him on the back in congratulations despite the others’ response.

You brush a mental hand over the thin thread that connects you to Rhys, testing to tell yourself that it is real. The loss of the bargains is visceral, it feels as if there’s a gaping wound in your soul, poking around in there feels like touching an exposed nerve, but beneath it, glittering like a million stars, is that tether. The one you suspect might have been the only reason you’re still alive at all. 

Rhys opens his end of it to you, the door of adamant thrown open far wider than it had ever been before. “Are you all right, Darling?”

You could cry from a thousand different things right now, but the fact that you can hear him, feel him like this makes you close your eyes for a brief moment and relish the fact that Hybern hadn’t robbed you of this too. “I thought…” the memory of that dark power holding you down, tearing the bargain apart, flashes across your shared mental space before you can shut it out. “I wasn’t sure this would still be here.”

Rhys’s anger flares down the bond as the memory plays out before him, the arm around your waist tightening. “It will always be here. Nothing, no exiled king, no Mountain, no damned Cauldron, will ever change that.”

“Even if I did punch you in the face?” You quip, eyes blurring with tears. 

His deep rumble of a laugh flows down the bond, fills it with glittering starlight. It is such a contrast to the dark lord mask he still outwardly shows the other lords. Looking at him, they can only see Darkness Incarnate, a creature of shadows and malevolence that keeps baring his teeth when someone gets out of line. Yet here, between your two souls, he is gentle and kind and bright. 

“Maybe if you’d broken my nose it would be different, I am known for my good looks after all,” he returns. “So I suppose it can be overlooked.”

You’ve almost forgotten the other lords are still bickering until Rhys’s remark makes you snort and Beron turns to glare at you. It’s only because your mate flashes his teeth at him with a growl that he keeps from pointing it out. 

You could have stayed like this, warm in both his physical and mental embrace, had a male with wings not entered the room. Fae came in all shapes, sizes and colors, your travels had shown many of them to you over the years, but you’ve met very few with wings like these. The leathery membrane is reminiscent of a bat’s, with a large apex talon at the tip; when folded behind him, the talons make it look like horns are growing out of his shoulders. He weara]s black fighting leathers, fit tight to his muscled form; a sword sheathed between his great wings, a single, ornate dagger strapped to his thigh. You know him to be with Rhys solely from the shadows that mist over his frame, drifting through his dark hair to shroud his face as he enters, his powers not entirely unlike your mate’s.

The male’s hazel eyes flick immediately to Rhys, his features mostly schooled into cold indifference, but you note the briefest flick of relief as he takes in his High Lord.

“Don’t tell me you only brought the Shadowsinger?” Helion asks with a pout.

The rest of the room finally falls silent as the male steps up to the table you’ve all been arguing around. Rhys claps him on the shoulder in greeting, your mate’s posture relaxing at his presence.

The male returns the gesture, the hand he reaches out scarred beyond any repair. “M’lord.” There’s a bit of teasing underneath the tone, as if he says it in joke, perhaps that is why Rhys flashes him a grin in return.

“Well?” Thesan questions. 

“My spies and I have tracked Hybern back to a temple in Spring,” the male says, turning away from Rhys to face them. “Troops are prepared to move, but no one has yet. I couldn’t get any closer.”

You run your fingers over your damaged throat in thought. He has the Cauldron still, why not use it?

Helion asks as much before you can say it aloud. 

“I couldn’t get inside, his shields are extensive. If we are to engage him, we’ll have to draw him outside.”

“With what army?” Kallias returns.

“We have an Illyrian legion and a squadron of Darkbringers standing by,” he says with a nod to Rhys. 

“Ah, so you did bring Cassian,” Helion says with a grin. “I was hoping I’d see a pretty face after being in this cage for so long.”

Beron snarls softly under his breath in disgust. 

“I can break the shield,” you say. 

“Tore through Amarantha’s like butter,” Helion agrees.

Rhys’s attention is now glued to you, as is the Shadowsinger, hazel eyes assessing the way his lord holds you. 

“I can go in first, take the shield down, and you all can come in behind me.”

“And let you lead us right into a trap?” Beron snarls. 

“Would you prefer to go in first?” Tarquin returns.

“Helion and I will be right behind you,” Rhys says slowly, as if he’s still thinking through the details. 

“I can cleave any surprise spells beyond the shield,” Helion confirms.

“My troops can provide cover, if Hybern’s men move,” Rhys continues. “The rest of you can follow along behind. We’ll distract Hybern while…”

A shiver runs inadvertently down my spine at thought, but I force the words out anyway, “While I drain the Cauldron so he can’t use it.”

Rhys nods, a string of affection trickling down the bond. “Once Hybern and his troops are dead, or captured, we send the Cauldron back to its resting place, and we all go home.”

Kallias rubs a hand wearily over his face. 

“I don’t see why all of us have to risk our necks,” Beron snarls.

“Because we don’t know what else he has up his sleeve,” Thesan returns. “We’ve all been in the dark to the outside world for the last fifty years. He could have anything.”

“He doesn’t have his whole army moved in yet,” the Shadowsinger confirms. “We have to move now.”

Tarquin sighs as he leans his weight against the table. “Let us be done with it then.”

You sigh with relief. It’s almost over. This nightmare is, mercifully, moments away from over. All you have to do is tear down a shield and drain the actual, life giving, Cauldron.

The terrifying, cold, bottomless Cauldron that had swallowed you and spit you out. The very thing that had tied you to Hybern’s will and nearly cost you your mate. And you wanted to, somehow, take that power from it so it couldn’t be wielded?

You are in over your head.

You never should have suggested it.

But how can you not? Even with all their powers restored, none of the High Lords can take power from anyone, or anything else. That is a gift that belongs to you and you alone. It has to be you.

By the time you pull yourself out of your thoughts over the ancient artifact, the other lords have filtered out, leaving you alone with Rhys and his spy. It’s only when they’re gone that Rhys releases you, so he can throw his arms around the other male. It is far more affectionate than you have ever seen him be with someone aside from yourself. 

“Az,” he half sobs into the other male’s shoulder.

“You idiot!” The other snarls, even as those scarred hands grip so tight to the back of Rhys’s shirt it looks like he might tear it. “What were you thinking!?”

Rhys’s response is still more sob than laugh, but there is some humor in it nonetheless. “It worked didn’t it?”

“I’d thought I’d never see you again, you stupid prick!” 

When they finally pull away, Rhys is grinning. “Az, you should meet my mate.”

You’re still standing there awkwardly, and probably looking like you’d been tossed under a wagon, if you’re being totally honest with yourself, and the only thing you can think to do is give a little wave. “Hi.”

He looks back and forth between you two, shadows drifting off his shoulders, slithering around his dark boots like snakes as they come to appraise you, much as Rhys’s own powers had that night on Calanmai. Though these are colder and more methodic in their search than your mate’s had been.

“Y/N, this is my brother, Azriel.”

“Who’s blood is all over your hands?” Azriel asks by way of greeting.

It’s an effort not to tuck them behind your back under his scrutiny. “A little bit of everyone’s really,” you mumble.

Azriel shoots Rhys a look that has your mate grinning, “She killed Amarantha.”

“Well, then, it’s nice to meet you,” Azriel replies, the corners of his mouth quirking up in a grin. 

“You two will get along well, I think,” Rhys says, and judging by the warmth he’s flooding down the bond you know he really means it. This is important to him. 

“You make it a habit of killing dictators, Y/N?” Azriel teases.

“Well we are on our way to kill my father, so I might be,” you return.

The shock on his face is enough to make you grin, even as Rhys slaps Azriel on the back and says, “We should go find Cass.”

Cass turns out to be one of the tallest males you’ve ever seen, bearing the same dark wings as Azriel, long brown hair tied back out of his sun kissed face. While Azriel had remarks on Rhys’s absence to make, this one merely barreled into him as soon as he caught sight of him, nearly taking them both to the ground in his attempt to bear hug him.

Azriel takes up the space beside you, watching them with the same cold indifference he looked at everything. “Careful, he’s a hugger.” Was the only warning you got before the giant of a male released Rhys to sweep you up into a hug of your own.

You awkwardly pat his large back once your feet manage to get back on the ground. “Uh hi.”

“You’re much prettier than he is,” he says when he pulls away, a shit eating grin plastered to his handsome face. “You sure you want this loser?” He jerks his thumb in Rhys’s direction for good measure.

Rhys grabs you by the shoulders and pulls you back against his chest. “Don’t mind Cassian, he was dropped as a baby.”

“I was not!” Cassian returns. “Thrown out into the snow sure, but no one ever dropped me.”

“His head’s so big you wouldn’t have noticed if he had anyway,” Azriel returns.

Rhys chuckles as they turn to square off each other, shouting obscenities. “I know they’re a little much-”

You run your fingers over his arm where it’s braced against your collarbone, the weight of him at your back solid and reassuring. “This is pretty much what I’d expect of anyone related to you, honestly.”

He gives your shoulder a teasing pinch, “Brat.”

“You endured all this for them,” you say in a more serious tone. “You gave all of yourself to make sure they were safe. They’re important to you, so they’re important to me.”

He kisses the top of your head in thanks. “I can’t wait for this to be over, so we can go home and you can meet the rest of them.”

For that, for them, you can do this, you can go up against the Cauldron. You give his hand a squeeze. “Let’s get this done then.”

----

The crunch of every dead piece of grass under your feet sounds like an alarm bell. The rustle of the trees, the quiet of the nearby birds, it all feels as if it’s screaming your location right to your father.

You draw a deep breath as you creep forward, then another as the Temple finally comes into view. Hybern’s shield around the building is a lot less visible than Amarantha’s had been, yet you can feel it. There’s a buzzing beneath your skin that grows the closer you get to it, the air tinged with a hint of overripe fruit.

“Hello, Daughter of the Void, have you come to play another game?”

You freeze, a shiver running down your spine. 

Behind you, Rhys and Helion pause too, watching the area ahead of you warily. Cassian had produced armor and weapons for both of them, their swords still sheathed at their backs. Rhys reaches a hand up to grab his at your movements, but neither mention hearing the Cauldron.

“Darling?” Rhys asks mind to mind to avoid being heard. “Are you all right?”

Your stomach is in your throat, it’s an effort to swallow. “Yeah,” you lie as the phantom touch of that icy water brushes over your skin. Cassian hadn’t found armor for you, just a pair of more practical clothes and boots. Helion had offered to cast a shield for you, but his efforts had been for nothing, your body had swallowed up the shield like it was starving for any bit of new power it could reach. Still, you wish you’d found something, anything to make you feel a little less powerless against what you were up against.

“Just thought I heard something.” In a few more tentative steps, you’re at the edge of the shield.

“Come, come and play, Sweet Nothing.”

You reach out a hand, even though it’s shaking, and let your claws slide into place. They’re still a little distorted from Spring’s powers, you skin a war of fur and scales as the warring powers fight for dominance.

You can do this. Your mate is right behind you. His brothers and their winged armies just above the treeline. You are not alone to fight Hybern this time.

“Once we’re through, let Helion go ahead and check for protection spells,” Rhys cautions.

“I didn’t see any before,” you muse.

“He wasn’t trying to keep you out then,” he reminds. “But he knows that you’re against him now. We have to be ready for anything.”

You square your shoulders. You can do this.

The shield splits under your claws as if you’re shredding paper, your hand tingling with the sensation of a thousand needles as you draw all that power into you. After holding the powers of all the High Lords, this is nothing in comparison, even if it is stronger than Amarantha’s. You don’t stop pulling it into you until you no longer feel the buzzing of it against your skin.

“We’re in,” you say to Helion, who strides past you far more confidently than you felt he should be.

Especially when it’s so… quiet.

You tilt your head, listening. There are still no birds here, but there is no waiting army either. Hybern had plenty of soldiers when you’d seen him last, too many to cram all inside the Temple, even with the ones you’d misted under his orders. It shouldn’t be this quiet.

Helion’s head tilts to the side as he too considers the stillness. 

You can’t smell any spells at work, or see any other types of shields.

“Come, come and play,” the Cauldron beckons. “We have so much more to learn from each other, Little Death.”

Why have no army in sight with something this valuable out in the open?

Why leave something you could hear within reach?

You glance back at Rhys, by the look on his face its clear he too knows something is wrong, but he still can’t hear that it’s wrong. 

“Come.” It starts like a second pulse within your chest. 

“Come.” Then the hair on your arms raises.

“Come.” The ground trembles, but still no one but you notices.

Because you were remade. It knows you and you know it. And that’s the only way you have time to run and push Helion out of the way before Hybern uses the Cauldron to send out a blast of pure energy that hits you right in the chest.

_________________________________

Tag List: @mariahoedt, @lovelydove, @twsssmlmaa, @sleepylunarwolf, @judig92, @willowpains, @daughterofthemoons-stuff, @annnaaaa88, @myheartfollower, @uniquecolorwizard, @eternallyelvish, @waytoomanyteenagefeels, @lovemesomeevesy, @localfangirl09, @isa1b2h3, @starswholistenanddreamsanswered, @slytherintaco, @iluvewmanblog, @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife, @kitsunetori, @lilah-asteria, @dianxiaxie, @msoldier, @amara-moonlight, @darling006, @92494-blog1, @genniecokkie, @nyctophiliiiiaaa

[ihavemanyhusbands]

Vidas Pasadas (Past Lives)

PART THREE: THE HERO ALWAYS GETS THE GIRL

Also on AO3

Part One // Part Two // Mini-Series Masterlist

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Latina!Reader (Spanish speaking)

WC: 5.9k words

Chapter Summary: It was always meant to end up this way, wasn't it? Some things never changed.

Warnings: Minors DNI this fic is 18+, canon typical violence, reader kidnapped by raiders, the ghoul being the ghoul, cursing, some injuries (very mild whump), mentions of death/loss, heavyyyy angst (happy ending tho!), only a little Spanish dialogue, love confession, smut, unprotected p in v, oral (fem receiving), irradiated creampie (with RadAway after lol), aaaaand that's all I can think of but please lmk if I missed anything!

---------------------

In the Past….

You had been restless all day, unable to explain why. Something just didn’t feel right, and not knowing what it was made you feel even worse.

Your house had felt large and empty as you paced around it, smoking. All those long hours, you were acutely aware of the clock’s ticking — Time relentlessly marching on, waiting for no one.

 Once you’d actually gone to bed, you’d tossed and turned long into the night. The moon shone faintly through a gap between the curtains, barely illuminating your bedroom. You could not face the yawning void of solitude you found at that hour, so you got up. 

Things had gotten much trickier in a short amount of time. There had been many more bomb drills, more fear and paranoia, and substantially fewer job opportunities.

Cooper was no longer acting. He simply wouldn’t get cast anymore, so he had to look in other directions. The loss was tremendous, for yourself and the industry. Moviemaking didn’t quite feel the same anymore, its luster having faded.

You saw him much less, but you still tried to keep in touch. You’d even helped him care for Janey a few times when he had to take an odd gig that would run late. Slowly, he was becoming a shell of the man he formerly was, and you felt helpless to stop it.

But that night, you couldn’t hold yourself back, leaving your house in just a coat and your night dress, like a ghostly apparition. The drive there was nebulous, like you were moving on autopilot. You drifted up the steps and pressed the buzzer to his apartment a few times.

When he came down to see who was at the door, he looked a little worse for wear, like he’d been having a hard time sleeping, too. He ushered you inside, not wanting you to be out in the cold.

“What happened?” Cooper said, worriedly searching you for any sign of injury. “It’s the middle of the night, why didn’t you telephone?”

“I’m so sorry, Coop,” you said, as if waking up from a trance. “Did I wake you up?”

He shook his head, leading you to the old, rickety elevator and pressing the button to his floor. 

“No, I was up. Lucky you didn’t wake Janey, though. She’s with me this weekend.”

You covered your face with your hands, ashamed. “Oh God, I’m a mess, aren’t I?”

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, worrying even more at your clear distress. He guided you to his unit, which was smaller than you’d imagined. It’d been a while since Cooper and Barb’s sudden divorce, but he barely seemed to be settling in. The walls were mostly bare, and the sparse furniture seemed to have been included with the unit. There were only a few pictures, mostly of him and Janey, but a few of just his daughter. 

He had never really told you what happened, but the change had seemingly occurred overnight. He simply said he was done, that he couldn’t even look at her anymore. You were still pretty baffled about the whole thing, but it wasn’t your business to pry about. You simply supported him however you could.

Barb had not gone easy on him, having the best lawyers Vault-Tec could afford. He had Janey some weekends, but he didn’t get to see her nearly enough. It was a bad situation altogether, and you were sad for everyone involved.

“Cozy,” was all you could whisper after a moment of silence, to which he snorted derisively.

You went to sit on the couch, arms around yourself. The two of you kept your voices soft so as not to wake Janey, and you felt a pang in your chest knowing she was near. She was such a bright ray of sunshine, and you were glad that she and Cooper had each other despite everything.

And especially on a night like that one, when the world seemed to be holding its breath in anticipation of something.

“Drink?” He offered, already pouring himself a glass of scotch in the small kitchen.

You nodded, sniffling, trying to keep the tears that threatened to crawl up your throat at bay. He shuffled back over to you, a frown still on his face.

“Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?” He encouraged, handing you the glass and sitting next to you on the couch. 

How could you possibly explain the feeling of grief you had, when you hadn’t really lost anyone? 

Not yet, at least.

“I don’t know, I just… I had to see you,” you said, taking a sip of your drink. “I didn’t even think about it, I just got in the car and drove.”

“Well, ain’t that sweet,” he chuckled, the sound a little awkward. “But it couldn’t wait until morning?”

“No, Coop, I can’t even explain it. If I tried, I’m sure you’d think I’m crazy.”

“Try me,” he said. “You know you can trust me.”

You set your glass down and scanned his features for a moment, committing them to memory. Then, without a word, you leaned in and brought your lips to his chastely.

 You had kissed dozens of times in the past, but for the first time, it was as yourselves. Love was the only thing you could give him then. Years worth of it had accumulated inside of you, with nowhere to go… until that moment. 

But your heart was breaking at the same time. Instinctively, you realized this would be your only opportunity to do so. Tears swam in your vision, but you turned your face away before he could see the one that escaped.

Cooper blinked, too stunned to react. You sniffled, pulling back, hands wringing anxiously. He shook his head, snapping out of it.

“Why are you crying?” He asked, hands cupping your face. “I ain’t that bad of a kisser, am I?”

You let out a sad little chuckle, which sounded more like a sob.

I love you, you wanted to say. I love you, I love you, te amo con todo mi corazón*. Please find a way to live, whatever happens.

(*I love you with all my heart)

“Please, take care of yourself,” you pleaded softly instead. “Give little Janey a kiss from me.”

And with that, you got up from the couch and left him like a thief in the night. He’d called for you, but you’d been faster, running down the stairs and heading back to your car. You simply couldn’t handle it anymore. The waiting, the fretting, feeling so fucking helpless…  Wouldn’t it be better just to get it all over with?

The rest of the night blurred into a gouache rendition of melancholy and self pity. In the morning, as soon as you were able, you phoned Bud Askins — the Vault-Tec executive who had organized your admission into Vault thirty one — to ask for an expedited entry.

And just as he picked up the phone, you looked out the window and saw the enormous, fiery mushroom cloud rising as if from the depths of hell itself.

——————————————

The Present….

“There she is,” one of the raiders pointed at the old TV screen, where one of your movies was playing. “No wonder she looked so goddamn familiar. Got ourselves a movie star, boys.”

“Gotta be a clone or somethin’, no way she’s lived this long,” another one said.

“What does it matter? Whoever buys her won’t be able to tell the difference. Fresh meat’s hard to come by, and this is the luxury kind,” the first one gruffed, looking back at you over his shoulder. “Isn’t that right, baby?”

You could only glare at him from your spot against the wall. You were gagged, your ankles and wrists bound by old rope. Two days had passed, in which the raiders hadn’t done much other than tie you up and haul you around. You’d gotten a few scraps of food, but not nearly enough to even be considered a snack. Thirst and hunger clung to your very bones, but you were lucky that your survival instincts had kept you going so far. 

You might not have been a fighter before, but now you were determined to keep yourself alive at all costs. It hadn’t taken long for you to realize that things were truly ruthless in the wasteland, and it all basically narrowed down to kill or be killed. 

You weren’t sure yet if you’d be able to go through with something like that, but you had no other choice but to try if it came down to it.

You were still holding out hope that the ghoul would come find you, but you were well aware that you couldn’t just rely on that possibility. You were running low on time, unsure of how long exactly the potential transaction would take to complete. Or if they would grow tired of searching for buyers and try to possess you themselves. 

You would not let it get to that, though. You were just trying to devise the least recklessly foolish escape plan possible.

The raiders had holed up in an old supermarket, which seemed to be their usual base. Most of the empty, broken shelves had been pushed against the walls to make space for whatever furniture they had managed to find. A few shelves surrounded the space like a makeshift barrier, shielding the rest of the building from view.

Rations, old clothes and other miscellaneous objects were scattered about carelessly, but you didn’t notice many weapons, which was potentially a good sign. More valuable loot was stashed in empty freezers, and you were frankly surprised they hadn’t tried to shove you in one, too.

The raiders went back to watching the movie, your own voice sounding strange and faraway to your ears. And then… you heard Cooper’s voice, that southern drawl bringing your attention to the screen. It was the scene of his Feo, Fuerte y Formal speech, when his enemy was at his feet.

Though the screen was riddled with static, you could still see the determined look on his face. Hearing his voice again gave you strength, but it also gave you pause. Why did it feel like it hadn’t been that long since you’d last heard it?

You thought back to the day you’d been abducted, still unsure if you had hallucinated the ghoul screaming your name. Even his voice had sounded different there, but not unfamiliar – more like a dream that had slowly devolved into a nightmare.

 There was a nagging feeling at the back of your head that wouldn’t let you rest until you had some answers, but it would all have to wait for a later time. 

For the next hour or so, you slowly moved your wrists back and forth in an attempt to loosen the ropes. You went still whenever any of them looked at you – like a deer in headlights, sweat trickling down your spine – but luckily, none of them seemed aware of your actions.

At some point, you had to fully stop as most of them prepared to go out scavenging, leaving only one man behind to guard you.

“Shouldn’t give you much trouble, but you know what to do if she does,” the leader had said, looking right at you with a shit-eating grin. 

But the raider left in charge hadn’t seemed too worried about you being a threat, falling asleep on one of the couches soon after they had left. When your wrists were rubbed raw and bloody by the rope, you soldiered through the pain until adrenaline kicked in, and you managed to loosen the knots enough to free one of your hands.

You swallowed down the nausea that crawled up your throat at the sight of your mangled skin. Keeping one eye on the sleeping raider, you began to attempt untying your ankles, but then you heard a crash at the front of the building. The raider woke up with a start and you had a millisecond to hide your hands behind your back once more. 

“What the fuck was that?” he muttered, looking around frenziedly.

You shrugged helplessly, your heart nearly leaping out of your chest. He narrowed his eyes in suspicion as he stood, grabbing a weapon. You whimpered, momentarily fearing he might use it to prod you further, but he stayed put.

“You better not try any stupid shit, alright?” He said, pointing it at you in warning. 

You nodded quickly and he crept around a shelf, disappearing from view. It was eerily silent after that, except for your blood thundering in your ears. You waited for him to return, unmoving, for what seemed like an eternity. 

There were a few more sounds somewhere out front, but you couldn’t quite discern what they were. Still, you didn’t really want to wait around and find out. Who knew if you’d get another opportunity like this?

But just as you decided to push your luck and reached for your ankles, you heard footsteps. And with those footsteps, there was the familiar, faint clinking of spurs that you had come to know.

The ghoul suddenly rounded the corner, holding the raider’s bloodied machete, which matched the blood spattering his clothes. Talk about a guardian angel, you thought, somehow finding humor to keep yourself from absolute hysteria – even as your eyes welled with overwhelmed tears. A muffled sound escaped your throat, but there was still tape covering your mouth, so all you could do was widen your eyes.

“There y’are,” he said with what seemed to be a relieved grin, but it was short-lived. “Oughta kill you myself for makin’ me go through all that trouble to find you…”

He crouched in front of you to free you from your binds, tossing the weapon aside. You gasped as he ripped the tape from your face, momentarily glaring at him for his lack of gentleness. But your own relief outweighed any frustration you felt, and without thinking you threw yourself at him, your arms wrapping around his neck. 

He froze, feeling the jackrabbit pace of your heart against his chest. The breathed-out thank you in his ear almost gave him goosebumps, but he kept himself composed. You yourself couldn’t believe that you were so elated to see him, having been terrified of him only a week prior.

But now it didn’t seem to matter, because even if he groused about having to do the work, he had still come to find you. 

“Alright, alright, that’s enough of that,” he said, shoving you back. “Get up, we gotta get outta here before the rest of ‘em come back.”

He hauled you onto your feet, steadying you when you almost stumbled into him. You glanced at the TV, where the movie had been paused on a close-up shot of Cooper.

You hesitated, suddenly transfixed by an emotion that was getting close to realization. The ghoul followed your line of sight and grimaced, averting his gaze. 

“You feel it too, don’t you?” You said, the words spilling before you’d even thought them through. “How ironically familiar it all is, in a fucked up way.”

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. When you looked over at him, something ill-concealed in his expression confirmed things without him having to say anything.

His eyes hadn’t changed… how did you not see it before?

You took a step closer and that seemed to snap him out of it.

“No idea what you’re goin on’ about,” he gruffed, turning away. “Now get movin’ or I’ll tie you to my belt and herd you like cattle. Andale!”

You pursed your lips at his stubbornness but trailed after him. You watched his back, hunting for more details to further reassure yourself you weren’t crazy — His posture, the way he walked, his strong shoulders squared proudly, as if in preparation for whatever came.

There was still so much to say, but first, you had to get as far away from this serpent’s nest as possible. 

On the way, he found an old tire iron, tested its heft, and then handed it to you. At least, it seemed less daunting than a knife or a machete, and arguably less bloody. The world might be a cruel place, but he would try to help minimize the blow as much as he could. In his own way, of course.

 He pushed out of the secret entrance at the side of the building, and you almost slammed into his back as he abruptly stopped. 

“Well, fancy seeing you here boys,” he said before you could even ask what was wrong, and a stone seemed to drop into your stomach. “Jus’ came to collect what’s rightfully mine. We’ll be on our way now.”

“Like hell you are,” came the barked reply.

You peered around him and saw only a handful of the raiders, the leader nowhere in sight. Somehow, that made you relax a little, the odds slightly more favorable. Not that you didn’t believe the ghoul could handle the whole group, but you just didn’t want to take your chances.

“Oh, yeah? And who’s gonna stop me? You?” The ghoul drew his revolver before anyone else could react, firing a shot directly at the raider’s head. “Whoops, I guess it ain’t gonna be him, after all.”

A stunned moment passed before the raiders were all launching themselves at him. You pressed back against the wall, watching how the ghoul moved with a swift, deadly grace. Two were down before they even knew what was happening. 

You moved from your spot to try to find some cover in case any stray bullets flew by you. Crouching by some rusted oil barrels, you kept your eyes on the action, listening to the ghoul laughing at a failed attack.

Then you noticed movement elsewhere. While he was facing off another three of them, a raider that had broken off from the rest was slowly inching closer behind the ghoul’s back.

Yelling out a warning would probably hinder more than help him, so you took a deep, fortifying breath and crept behind the raider. You tried to keep control of your breathing as you got closer, taking deliberate steps. You adjusted your grip on your weapon a few times, your palms sweating like never before.

But just as you closed the distance between you and raised the tire iron over your head, one of the other raiders yelled Watch out!

Still, you swung, striking him right across the temple with a sickening crack. He crumpled, knocked out cold, and everything moved quickly after that.

 In all the distraction, the ghoul dove forward and sank his knife into the nearest raider’s stomach. Then he turned them both around, using him as a shield before he shot the other two raiders.

Once they were all on the ground, he looked at you over his shoulder and grinned. 

“Well, well, look at you watchin’ my back for me,” he said, seemingly impressed. “Doesn’t make us quite even, but getting closer.”

You let out a breathy laugh, but your mouth suddenly filled with saliva, and you had to keep yourself from throwing up. All of the day’s events were starting to catch up to you, and adrenaline could only keep you on your feet for so long.

“Can we just uh… please?” You said, gesturing into the distance vaguely. “If I don’t eat something soon, I think I’m gonna pass out.”

He sighed, jerking his head to one side in a motion for you to follow. “Better hope there’s still rations in your pack, then, ‘cus I ain’t a free meal ticket.”

———————————————-

You slept for what felt like days, waking up disoriented to find the afternoon sun high in the sky. You rolled onto your back, wiping away the drool that had trickled out of the corner of your mouth. You were sure you looked just as terrible as you felt, but it was the least of your worries at that moment.

The abandoned parking structure you’d camped out at was cool and shaded, the wind blowing through it. It’d been dark by the time the two of you had found it, and you could only remember wolfing down some food before promptly passing out. 

Your wrists had been bandaged at some point, a small courtesy from the ghoul. Proof once again that he cared, despite his tough, biting exterior. The warmth you felt in your chest reminded you of what was still pending between you, and how it could wait no longer. 

You sat up and looked around, gathering your bearings. He wasn’t too far away, standing at the other end of the lot with his back to you. He was looking off into the distance, lost in thought. 

You watched him for a moment, wondering what was going through his mind. Wondering if maybe, just maybe, your thoughts were running parallel. 

Only one way to find out.

You got up, wincing at the deep ache in your muscles. You started to shamble over to him, but you only reached halfway before you were no longer brave enough to get any closer. 

“Cooper,” you called, voice tremulous. “… It is you, isn’t it?”

The ghoul turned around slowly, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. He was quiet for a moment, for once seemingly afraid to meet your gaze.

“Still stubborn as a mule, aren’t’cha?” he said, trying to mask the nostalgia in his voice with wry humor. 

You let out an amused huff. “Always drove the producers crazy.”

“Well, it wasn’t just them.”

Finally, he looked up at you, his gaze much softer than they’d been the past few days. At that moment – despite the ravages of time, radiation, and even misery – you could still see the Cooper you had always known. And while you were elated by the revelation, your heart also hurt to think he had undergone so much by himself, losing who he was in the process. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked, knowing it was likely a selfish question. “From the beginning?”

“I never… thought you would see me like this,” he said, swallowing hard. “After that night, when the bombs were dropped, I didn’t know what happened to you. I just assumed you were…”

“Dead,” you finished for him. “I thought the same about you.”

Silence hung heavily for a moment, and you weren’t sure if you should move or not. 

“What about your family?” You asked, bracing for the worst.

“Lost,” he said simply, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “I got Janey to one of the vault’s on time, but there was no space left for me.”

His pain was palpable, making your heart shatter anew. But how to take it away from him? It was impossible to just erase all that had happened, but you could at least help him shoulder the burden.

“Cooper…” you breathed, finally closing the remaining distance between you.

He shifted uncomfortably, angling his head away. You reached up to gently cup his face, making him look at you.

“A face not even a mother could love, ain’t it?” He murmured, braced for whatever reaction you’d have to him now. 

He expected disgust and rejection, but that was far from what you felt then – A yearning so deep you feared it would fully consume you. The world had fucking ended already, so why not confess how you felt? Nothing worse could happen if you did. 

“My feelings for you have remained intact for more than two hundred years, Cooper. You really think this is going to change my mind?”

He blinked in surprise, his eyes searching your face for any sign that you were lying. You merely smiled, open and earnest, letting him digest your words.

“That night, when you kissed me… My mind was all over the place. I didn’t know what to think, what to say, but you ran away before I could even try.” He chuckled weakly at the memory. “Somehow, I felt it was a long time comin’, but a part of me never thought it was possible.”

“I’m sorry it was all I could give you then,” you whispered, and he placed a hand over one of yours. “If only we had known…”

“Say the words for me, will you?” He rasped, face inching closer to yours. “I won’t believe it until you say it.”

You didn’t hesitate. “I love you, Cooper Howard. I loved you before, and I love you now, just as you are.” 

“You sure about that?” He said, but his resolve was crumbling.  “Not much room for love in places like this, especially with folks like me.”

“We’ll just have to make room for it then.”

He raised his hairless eyebrows, both pleased and amused at your conviction.“Just like that, hmm?” 

One of his arms snaked around your waist slowly, pressing you closer to him. Your eyes dropped to his mouth, desirous. The fire he saw in them ignited him as well — A long lost feeling that was returning to the surface with a vengeance.

“Bésame,” you sighed, mere seconds before his lips were melding against yours. 

You kissed with an almost frantic desperation, tightly clinging onto each other. It was the kind of kiss you had always dreamt of — devouring and insatiable, eager to fuse together.

His hands were curious but hesitant, roaming up to your ribcage and down to your hips, but no further. You grabbed one of his hands and placed it on your chest, not only as permission, but also so he could feel how your heart pounded for him. 

His own longing overflowed, clouding his senses. A part of him had still been unwilling to believe you could actually love — much less tolerate — what he had become. But when you moaned softly into his mouth, he knew he was a lost cause.

Unfortunately for him, he wasn’t very good with words that weren’t scripted. But fortunately for you, there were other ways he could demonstrate his devotion.

You arched into his touch as he palmed one of your breasts, a low sound in his throat. He moved to kiss your neck, lavishing your collarbone with his tongue. He wanted to kiss you all over, but he would need to get you bare first. 

You let him tug your blouse over your head, his gloves subsequently coming off. His hands were calloused as they returned to touch your skin. The tips of his fingers teased the waistband of your pants, and he smirked as you frowned up at him. 

“What? I wanna enjoy every moment of this,” he drawled, eyes dipping lower to watch your chest heave. “So many times I tried to imagine how I would do this. Sometimes I would unwrap you like a present… Others, well, let’s jus’ say I was like a coyote getting ahold of a chicken.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the morbid description, strangely not put off by it. “How romantic. I’m still trying to decide how I’ll take yours off.”

He shifted, something like panic flashing in his eyes for the briefest second. “Hold your horses, sweetheart. I ain’t done with you yet.”

You understood his hesitance immediately, deciding not to push it for the time being. You had years of patience under your belt, and his trust was something you did not mind earning again. He removed only his duster, draping it on the floor. 

He undid your belt and knelt in front of you as you wiggled your hips to help him take your pants off. There was a puff of warm breath against your navel a second before he planted a kiss on it. You shuddered as his teeth snagged the hem of your panties, pulling them down.

There was a noticeable wet spot on the fabric, which made him groan. His cock was straining against his pants already, but he wanted to focus on you first. 

“Come here, you,” he rasped, grasping your hips and bringing you down with him. 

As soon as you were on your back, his mouth was on you again. He’d wanted to feast his eyes first, to take you in in your full glory, but he found he couldn’t keep himself detached from you for too long. 

He kept his promise, slowly working his way around. You surrendered to his adoration with ease, every caress and every kiss awakening every part of you. At some point, you reached a level of sensitivity that had you whimpering at the slightest touch. The light sting of his teeth on your nipples sent electricity straight to your core. 

He lost himself in your smell and your warmth and your softness – a supplicant finally worshiping at his sacred temple. When his mouth finally sealed over your clit, your back arched off the floor, taut as a bow. 

“Cooper,” you gasped, delirious with lust. “Please, I-I need… Let me touch you, something, please!”

He shushed you gently, arms wrapping around your legs. “Just lie back and let me take care of you, darlin’.”

You wished you could say you lasted some time under his ministrations, but you came with embarrassing ease. That first orgasm hit you like an avalanche, sweeping throughout your whole body. You clapped a hand over your mouth as you cried out, not wanting to be too loud and potentially attract unwanted attention. 

He let out a faint chuckle, lapping up your release with gusto and nearly making you come a second time. He found he especially liked teasing your clit with quick little flicks of his tongue, your moans higher pitched. You tried squirming away from him, nearing overstimulation.

“You’re killing me, Coop!” You couldn’t help but giggle hysterically, pushing at his head. “Por favor!”

He pulled back, grinning roguishly as he licked his glistening lips. “What can I say? Seems I can’t get enough of you.”

“Then take me already,” you pleaded. “I can’t wait any longer.”

He needed no further convincing. He unhooked his arms from your legs and his body slid upwards until your faces were level. He was quick to undo his pants and push them down, bending down to kiss you as he took his cock in one hand, stroking it. 

You brought your knees up to his sides as you tasted yourself on his tongue. Slowly, he pushed inside of you, leaning his forehead against yours so he could see your reactions. Brows furrowed, mouth slack, cheeks flushed – you were the prettiest picture, in his eyes. 

“That’s it,” he exhaled as he buried himself to the hilt. “Takin’ me so good, like you were made just for me.”

“You’ve a-already made it clear th-that I’m yours,”  you said with a teasing little smile that you could barely hold as he started to move. 

He remembered his words to the raiders, letting out a breathy chuckle. “I did say somethin’ like that, didn’t I? Guess it must be true, then.”

His strokes were long and slow at first, letting you feel every inch as he stretched you. His eyes were fixed on your face, drinking in your features and reassuring himself that it was not a dream. He knew he wouldn’t last too long either, for all he teased you about it.

He started going faster, the snap of his hips harsher, as you begged for it. Pleasure was overtaking him, wiping his mind clear of everything that wasn’t the present moment. Your name left his lips like a prayer, his eyes heavy lidded and glazed over with ecstasy. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he moaned. “I-I love you. Fuck, I love you.”

You clung to him, afraid that if your heart went any faster, it might stop altogether. Soon enough, he felt you tightly squeezing around him, and he knew you were close once again. He was right there with you, driven by your pleasure, and then you pulled him in for a kiss. 

He felt you tremble under him as you came, the intensity not letting you make more than a small, choked sound. With a long, rough groan and a deep thrust, he spilled inside of you. Lost in a feverish oblivion, having forgotten when the last time he’d experienced it was… if at all. No drop was wasted, in the end.

During the comedown, you lay there panting, his added weight on top of you comforting. You looked at each other and laughed, elated at the whole thing. It felt like no time had passed at all, somehow. 

“Tryin’ to steal my soul already,” he said, a fondness in his voice that made your stomach flutter. “Hold on, I need to get some RadAway in ya.”

Breathing heavily, he slowly pulled out of you and got to his knees. He tucked himself away and reached for his pack. He pulled out a yellow IV bag, which you recognized from Bud’s few lessons about the wasteland. You hadn’t even thought about it until then, but you were immensely grateful he had been prepared. 

He hooked you onto it delicately and slumped back down beside you, lying sideways. You grinned, snuggling closer to him. His fingers traced lazy circles on your belly as he looked down at you, adoring. 

The real world slowly crept into the edges of your mind, anxiety at being separated from him suddenly spiking. Now that you had him, there was no way you would just let him go. 

“I don’t know what I should do now,” you confessed, voice low. “I know I want you, and I want to be with you, but what about New Vegas? Do you think they’d send someone to look for me?”

He thought about it for a moment. “Maybe. It’s very possible, you never know. You’re more valuable than you realize, and I ain’t just sayin’ that ‘cus I’m biased.”

You snorted, shoving him playfully, but he continued. “But… I think I should still take you there. My sort of lifestyle in the wasteland ain’t for you, darlin’. I almost lost you once already, very stupidly.”

“That was my fault, though,” you said, pained at the guilt in his voice for not being able to protect you.

“Everybody makes mistakes. You could make a hundred more, but one of ‘em might just cost you everythin’. I ain’t takin’ those chances.”

“Well, you’re certainly more forgiving now…” you muttered, rolling your eyes. “But then what? You’re not just gonna drop me off at twenty one for safe keeping, are you? I would kill you.”

He laughed. “Oh, I don’t doubt it. But it won’t come to that, we ain’t stayin’ in the vault.”

“Oh? We aren’t?” 

“There’s a few settlements out there that are safe and, uh, friendly to my kind.” He cleared his throat, not wanting to bring much attention to his current state of being. You took his hand, squeezing his fingers, and he returned the gesture.

One day, you would make sure he would never doubt his worth ever again. You admired his strength and perseverance, soldiering through an unforgiving environment, continuing to live. He was certainly different from the hero that he always played in the movies, but he was a hero nonetheless. In your eyes, at least.

“Well, well… That’s all it took to bring you to your knees, huh?” You teased, raising an eyebrow. “You really thinking of settling down?”

“Oh, I ain’t retirin’, sweetheart,” he said with a huff. “But if you’re askin’ if I’m thinking of going steady with you, well…”

The two of you shared a knowing look, smiling at that echo from the past. At that moment, you felt that things might just be okay after all. You had been through worse things, jumped through bigger hurdles, and yet you had still arrived there. Who was to say you couldn’t handle more?

“Kiss me then, and let’s seal the deal.”

------------

[baby-xemnas]

more people would understand why lawbepo is so magnificent if they stopped viewing bepo like he is some type of pet just because he doesn’t have a human appearance:

law, who is demonstrably not a touchy feely guy, lets his adult male crew mate hug him and glomp him and cuddle him and fuss over him like a worried wife, all the time. law often entrusts his sword to this one adult male crew mate. law takes naps with his adult male crew mate regularly, so often that his adult male crew mate gets jealous seeing him nap with someone else. law rubs his adult male crew mate’s tummy to comfort him when he’s sick. law rarely scolds this adult crew mate and even when he is frustrated he caves quickly because his adult male crew mate is just that cute. law takes his adult male crew mate to a concert, just the two of them, no one else. a concert that law wouldn’t normally ever be interested in going to, but he goes to this concert because he knows his adult male crew mate really wants to go. there was a time when law never expected to see his crew again, he was fully prepared to die when he went after doflamingo, but he still holds on to this one adult male crew mate’s vivre card. interesting…

fr tho, lawbepo has A LOT backing it up, one might argue the most of all possible law ships. it makes no sense to me that there is backlash to lawbepo because like. this is ONE PIECE. it has been established in canon that there are races in the world of OP that don’t have a typical human appearance, and we see this very early on when we meet the fishmen. it really shouldn’t be seen as outlandish in OP fandom for there to be ships that include non-human appearing characters.

if the haters don’t get lawbepo, it’s because they don’t want to get it. and i think that’s their loss because lawbepo is an amazing ship and enhances all characters involved (and surrounding characters if we are including the rest of the heart pirate crew) but especially law! anyway, i just want to thank you so much for drawing lawbepo and heart pirates, i love your art and how you have fleshed out these characters !

WHO IS THAT ADULT MALE CREW MATE????

ITS BEPO!!!

fr tho, lawbepo has A LOT backing it up, one might argue the most of all possible law ships

one might and i will! cuz its true!!!

thank you so much for the nice message ♥♥♥ agreeing with everything ♥

sorry everyone who doesnt like that their sexyman fave might happily be a furry...it does however enhance his character greatly. why are you so sexy but it's one of the best thing ever cuz its pretty rare to have a mixed pair like that especially when its a story filled with humans.

maybe i didnt read enough manga that to me their relationship is so unique exactly because bepo is not a pet - you have plenty characters in other stories that just have very loyal pets that are semi sentient and very useful but cant speak and ultimately are animals. but bepo is a guy and a friend and thats so awesome

he doesnt have a lot of scenes sadly (and doesnt have any COOL scenes, but i can kinda live with that) so he is not taken seriously as a person ppl just oh right law's pillow. YES HE IS BUT HE IS ALSO LAW'S OLD FRIEND

thankfully the ship doesnt have THAT many haters, but the fluffiness roundness and cuteness that law loves co much is bepo's curse to forever be a mascot while law is shipped off with human characters he is barely friendly with 😔

but we live, we happy, lawbepo family is strong, more than i could ever imagine and i love you guys so much ♥♥♥

[cravingpepsimax]

me: yeah i don't really like teen stancest. a huge part of its appeal is the decades of yearning and teen stancest kinda fucks with that. also i don't think poly stancest ships cuz i think they're too obsessed w each other. brain: hmmm. carla/stan/ford me: ...you're cooking here.

LEMME EXPLAIN

so. we don't know that much about carla. right. but we do know this:

regularly visited a 50s-themed restaurant. presumably not just bc of stan cuz she ended up leaving him for a hippie she's just into that stuff

got together with this guy. even if you think he didn't actually look like that he def had hella acne and i do doubt he brushed his teeth on the reg. the point being i don't think she cared too much about appearances

dated stan for years, which implies that she wasn't Disgusted By Ford or something, bc there's no WAY stan wouldn't have noticed and promptly dumped her ass

ANYWAYS. i think it'd be fun if carla was a baddie but also a weird girl so stan would've been her first boyfriend that wasn't like "ewww... but she's hot tho so like"

so. where does ford come in why isn't this just a st4rla post.

well. it originally was simple: i just thought it'd be really funny if she was fujoing outtttt over them. her friends being like "hehe lol twin threesome" as a joke and her internally going Mmmmm not quite.

BUT THEN. I STARTED THINKING ABOUT IT. and what if at first ford's like "eughhhh stan's basic girlfriend that i'm totally not jealous of" but then they end up hanging out together some cuz of stan and he's like... oh... huh. she's different. it turns out she likes st4r trek and they nerd out over that together

i don't think they'd be together -- 'cause i don't think she'd be romantically interested in ford and ford, in my heart, is a gay man thru and thru -- but they'd be metamours and they'd be good friends

this ALSO adds some VERY interesting canon divergence elements:

stancest is even angstier. typically when stancest fics mention carla conflict it's from stan not wanting to cheat on his girlfriend, which is reasonable, or stan having relationship issues with her. ford doesn't rlly gaf about how she feels. BUT if carla is his friend? his very first, non-stan friend? especially during the years where he's starting to feel more suffocated by stan, and feels like he's just always gonna be seen as stan's weird brother and not as his own individual? ford wouldn't wanna ruin that.

if the science fair incident still happens, a bunch of things could change. ford could end up crossing paths with carla before he goes home, venting to her about it, and being able to manage his emotions better when he gets home. if he doesn't, he'd still have to consider that shunning stan would also mean losing the One Other Friend he had, so he might be just a biiiit more reluctant to not try and talk to him.

the two main people in ford's life being two kinda nuts extroverts would be a fun dynamic JDSAKLDJAKLK

polyamory means no hippie music magic to yoink her away from them

most importantly, carla is no longer just stan's girlfriend with no other character at all, freeing her from the nightmare that is "being relegated to stan's shitty girlfriend" in stancest fics

thank you for coming to my tedtalk.

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

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1. hello, I am looking for a fic where " after wei wuxian jump from cliff, lan wangji save him. then baoshan sanren rescued them from a cave and gave wei wuxian his mother's core. and wei wuxian and lan wangji become demonic cultivator and immortal."

FOUND? 🔒 Blossoming flowers in a full moon - 花好月圆 by ThisIsWhereTheMagicHappens (T, 64k, wangxian, canon divergence, happy ending, fix-it of sorts, wangxian cuddle to immortarility)

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2. Fic finder request please! 🙏

It’s an a/b/o Wangxian where WWX wasn’t used to his designation since coming back into MXY’s body and he had trouble letting go and asking LZ for what he needed. I mostly remember a lot of really hot smut and a scene near the end where LWJ tells him to present and WWX decides to tease him for it and gets spanked as a result and then gets what he wants and is very pleased about it. I’ve checked all compilations and can’t find it anywhere. 😭😭

#2 on the recent Fic finder— it’s not any of those, but they were good reads. 😭

Wangxian was already married in the one I’m looking for.

NOT FOUND! Mutual Nurture by NinaCarow (E, 9k, WangXian, Mentions of Character Death, mentions of abuse, Mentions of Rape, no rape occures tho, its speculation, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega WWX, Alpha LWJ, Past Alpha WWX, Biting, Bonding, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Knotting, WWX Has a New Golden Core, its just sex and cuteness, mostly)

NOT FOUND! In the Face of Fate by InTheGreySpaces (E, 17k, WangXian, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Mpreg, Pregnant WWX, Top/Bottom Versatile | Switch WangXian, Pregnant Sex, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Miscarriage, reference to child death, Grief, WWX has self-image/body issues, taming the Alpha, Childbirth, Labor and Delivery, Painful Heats, malfunctioning hormones, post-cannon divergent, WWX Wants to be a Parent, desperately, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics)

NOT FOUND! You've got me feelin' like a child now by MaggieoftheOwls (E, 9k, WangXian, A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha LWJ, Past Alpha WWX, Omega MXY) though I haven't read them, all are tagged with Past Alpha WWX

NOT FOUND! Like a Needle to the North by athena_crikey (E, 87k, WangXian, ZhuiLing, Canon Divergence, A/B/O Dynamics, Mating Cycles/In Heat, WWX adapting to being an omega, societal standards, Pining, UST, Grief, Trauma, Protectiveness, Canon Retelling, Slow Burn, Menstruation, lots of bath sex for some reason, Rimming, Knotting)

FOUND! sandalwood and cinnamon by parsnipit (E, 39k, WangXian, A/B/O Dynamics, Established Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Fluff and Angst, Body Dysphoria, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Post-Canon, Oral Sex, Hand Jobs, Dom/sub Undertones, Praise Kink ,Nesting, Overstimulation, Knotting, Spanking, Subspace, Light Bondage)

~*~

3. I'm tryibg to find a wonderful Wangxian fic i read a few months ago, which I don't seem to have bookmarked or saved. Wei Ying & Lan Zhan travel one of the Silk Road caravan routes all the way to the outpost near the Jade Gate. I think Wei Ying was the one who wanted to go there, but he was vague about why. There are all kind of sub plots going on - i think some of the Wen are blending in out there, there's also a bit about ghosts (i think) of the Tarim Basin mummies - one of their resting places was violated. Ugh. It was a fascinating case fic - i've tried various keywords searching, but haven't had any luck. @emrinalex

FOUND? Bitter Plants Bearing Sweet Fruit by Kryal (M, 83k, wangxian, graphic depictions of violence, canon-typical horror elements, Worldbuilding, Desert, Misuse of Historic Setting, Original Character Death(s), Case Fic, aftermath of canon, ridiculously long author notes, Established Relationship, Nothing Explicit But Shameless Innuendo)

~*~

4. Hello!

I'm searching for a fic where it's kind of like 5+1 things and something along the lines of '5 Times WWX unintentionally hurt LWJ'

I'm not sure if it is deleted but is it possible for me to get the link for internet archive if it isn't?

Thank you! Sorry for the trouble.

~*~

5. Plz can you tell me which main Wei Ying Baushan Sanren's talisman has been activated by mistake and he is getting injured by breaking his memory and all the juniors are worried and call Wangji.

For 5, was it a fic where Wen Qing was a veiled vendor and wwx accidently activated the talisman with a bloody hand and then was regressed to a kid?

~*~

6. Hello!

I’m looking for a fic I read some time ago (can’t even say I liked it, just in the mood). It was a modern AU where WWX and JC are raising JL together, but have to work at a sex line (JC) and strip club (WWX, not sure about this one) to make ends meet (there was also a scene of JL finding out). Then, they bump into the Lan brothers in separate incidents the same day and give them their cards.

That’s most of what I remember, I hope you can find the fic for me (tried all the filters on AO3, couldn’t find it).

Great work on this blog, thank you’ :) @fomalhaut48

Thank you, but it is not this one. JC's work at a sex line was much more prominent there, and the story did not start with the Lan brothers as this one does.

Not FOUND Silk & Satin by Brieeze01 (E, 171k, wangxian, JC/LXC, modern, Stripper/Exotic Dancer AU, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Pole Dancing, Falling In Love, Love Confessions, Idiots in Love, Child LSZ, Child JL, Supportive brothers, hardworking brothers, Uncles and nephews, Love Story, Emotions, brokeass pole dancers meet billionaire bachelor brothers, Kinks, Lipstick, High Heels, Blindfolds, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Gentle Sex, Lube, Strip Tease, Dancing, Dirty Dancing, First Kiss, First Time, Love Bites, Anal Fingering, Rimming, Romance, Silk, satin, Slow Burn, Happy Ending, Wholesome, Pining, kink appreciation, healthy family relationship, Healthy Relationships, Everybody uses lube, Lapdance)

~*~

7. A) I'm looking for a fic where LZ sings a song for WY at a party or karaoke. It is a song with a vibe like "double take" by dhruv if my memory serves me correct. It is one hundred percent a song famous on tiktok by a male singer.

Anyone has any idea pls?

B) I'm also looking for a particular fic where LZ stopped playing after wangxian's falling out, then at a social gathering LZ is urged to play the piano and wy sees how much lz hurts and how much music flows through LZ's soul. @imstillthinkingaboutithmm

7B)

FOUND! Tempo Rubato by Spodumene (E, 108k, wangxian, modern, angst w/ happy ending, romance, persuasion au, separations, pining, miscommunication, depression, self-harm, reconciliation, smut)

~*~

8. so there was a fanfic I read a while ago on archive that I really wanna find: it’s a modern au where Wei Wuxian is a flower shop owner and Lan Wangi is a law student that meets him at the flower shop. I believe Jiang Chong is also a law student at the same school and Lan Xichen is WWX’s psychiatrist.

I hope that helps a bit, if u can’t find it I thank you for the effort @weebachu

~*~

9. Good day, The fic am looking for has a teenage breakup between Lan zhan and Wei ying. Qiren forcefully takes Lan zhan to another country making Wei ying think Lan zhan dumped him. Then forward too few years later, when Lans have to take Wei ying's help reagrding their institution making the couple remeet. Wei ying treats Lan zhan coldly and then they slowly mend. Can you pls help out? @mridhu6

FOUND? Tempo Rubato by Spodumene (E, 108k, wangxian, modern, angst w/ happy ending, romance, persuasion au, separations, pining, miscommunication, depression, self-harm, reconciliation, smut)

~*~

10. Fic finder please! I am looking for a fic where Lan Wangji kisses Wei Wuxian soon after they eat and he screws up his face because Wuxian’s mouth was spicy from his meal. Wuxian begins to chuckle at him and tries to move away but Wangji wants to keep kissing even though it is too spicy for him. I know it isn't a lot to go on and I don't remember any of the other plot, just that this scene was super cute. If anyone remembers this, please let me know! Thank you!

~*~

11. hello!!!

i just remembered a fic and i cannot remember the title, so i think it happens post-canon and people are talking about LSZ origins. they were like oh he could be wangxian's biological child.

i think the last part includes jingyi being drunk?? and begging wangxian to give LSZ another sibling... i thinj they were in lanling at that time

thank you! @cuddlemehun

FOUND! Wei Wuxian, God of Fertility by tired (T, 19k, WangXian, Family Feels, Crack Treated Seriously, Crack, the juniors get REAL drunk, Gossip, POV Multiple, surprisingly not an mpreg fic, Kissing, Self-Esteem Issues, Discussion of Porn and Sex, Post-Canon, SOFT SOFT SOFT, married wangxian, Fluff and Humor)

~*~

12. Hi I would like find a fic where Wei wuxian was sugar daddy to a sugar baby Lan zhan who also happened to be a newly enrolled student in Wei wuxian uni where he's a lecturer. There's also mention of Lan zhan's favourite book frequently in the fic. Thank you

FOUND? forget-me-not by mellowflicker (E, 31k, WIP, WangXian, Modern AU, Sugar Daddy WWX, Sugar Baby LWJ, Professor WWX, Student LWJ, Bottom LWJ/Top WWX, Secret Relationship, Age Difference, Hurt/Comfort, Chronic Pain, JZX & LWJ Friendship, Family Issues, WWX Isn’t Adopted by the Jiāngs)

FOUND? Teacher's Pet by anobtra (animeobsessedtrash) (E, 43k, wangxian, modern, Dark LWJ, College/University, Age Difference, Professor WWX, Student LWJ, Degradation, mild stalking, thigh riding, WWX Talks Dirty, Frottage, Mutual Masturbation, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Bottom LWJ, Coming Untouched, Orgasm Delay/Denial, LWJ is a Brat, Consent is Sexy, Begging, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, Teasing, Hair-pulling, Semi-Public Sex, Masturbation, Consensual Sex, Rough Sex, Dry Humping, everyone is of-age, Barebacking, Possessive Behavior, Porn With Plot, Jerk Off Instructions, Service Top WWX, Protective LWJ, Pining LWJ, Light Humiliation, Possessive WWX, Possessive LWJ, Intercrural Sex)

FOUND? together, we're just enough by lulu_kitty (E, 134k, WangXian, Modern AU, Bartender LWJ, single dad wwx, Kid fic (sort of), Excessive Fluff, Yearning, barely there plot, neurodivergent wangxian, canonical parental issues, lwj in jewelry, accidental sugar gege wwx, fluff and eventual smut, Bottom LWJ/Top WWX, Service Top WWX, Bisexual WWX, Rich WWX, a-yuan is a wei but still also a wen, wwx is a-yuan's biological baba, Older WWX, Younger LWJ, Slow-ish burn, Light Dom/sub, Brief LWJ/Others, Past WWX/Other(s))

~*~

13. Im looking for a time traveling wei wuxian where he goes to far into the past (his words) and he has to seal is memories, but from the outside it looks like he was attacked by resentful energy with a worries madam yu who then officially adopts wei wuxian. Also after he was "attacked" he also mumbles lan zhan's name in his sleep so the lans are there. @samriajack

FOUND! 🔒 Hope series by RoseThorne (T, 57k, wangxian, WWX & YZY, WWX & JFM, WWX & JYL, YZY/JFM, JC & WWX, LQR & WWX, LXC & JYL, Madam Jin & YZY, LQR & JFM, LXC & LWJ, Transmigration, Time Travel Fix-It, Illnesses, Family, Scars, Memory Loss, Angst, Crying, Music, Nosebleed, Fear, Recovery, Nightmares, Sharing a Bed, Flirting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Good Parent YZY, Referenced Sexual Slavery, Blood and Gore, Monsters, Sexual Tension, betrothal, Arranged Marriage, Grief, Adoption, POV Third Person, POV Alternating, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Good Parent LQR, Clairvoyance, Butterfly Effect, Kid Fic, Epistolary, Food, Secrets, Resentful Energy, Cultivation Sect Politics, Character Death)

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14. Hi! I'm looking for a fic (WIP) where LWJ and WWX travel back in time. LWJ still has his older core so the Lans think he's the reincarnation of Lan An when he's destroys the Wall of Rules. WwX avoids getting adopted by the Jiangs by becoming a rogue cultivator and gets nicknamed a sparrow. JFM found him though and somehow during a night hunt JC loses his golden core to a taotie. I can't seem to find it on AO3 anymore and hope you know it or it's name!. Thanks so much!

FOUND? A Life Without Regrets by naqaashi (M, 74k, wangxian, JFM & WWX, JC & WWX, WRH & WWX, LXC & LWJ, LQR & LWJ, LWJ & NHS, Canon Divergence, Time Travel Fix-It, Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Crack Treated Seriously, musical cultivation, Slow Burn, Pining, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Murder Husbands, PTSD, BAMF WWX, Demonic Cultivation, POV WWX, Cultivation Sect Politics, Worldbuilding, No Yīn Iron, Genius WWX, Inventor WWX, Artist WWX, Musician WWX, Night Hunts, Fate & Destiny, Bad Parent JFM & YZY, Golden Core, Cultivation Theory, Sentient Burial Mounds, Father-Son Relationship, Dysfunctional Family, Grief/Mourning, Parent-Child Relationship, Angry WWX, Pining WWX, WWX is Not Okay, No Golden Core Transfer, BAMF LWJ, Pining LWJ, POV LWJ, Angry LWJ, One-Braincell Wangxian, Love Confessions, Idiots in Love, WIP)

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15. Hello! I'm looking for a fic, it was post canon and relatively short. Wei Wuxian accidentally lets slip that Lan Xichen called him a mistake during the whole temple thing, and Sizhui and Lan Wangji get upset and end up confronting Lan Xichen. I remember there was a seen where Wei Wuxian recited everything Lan Xichen said to him to Lan Wangji. It points out how unfair it was to expect Wei Wuxian to realize Lan Wangji was in love with him, and that even if he did, he shouldn't be expected to drop everything je was doing (you know, like protecting the Wens) just to make Lan Wangji "happy."

Thank you so much, you're all awesome!

FOUND! 🔒💖 When has silence saved anyone? by Vrishchika (T, 6k, wangxian, LSZ & WWX & LWJ, post-canon, LXC  critical, family feels, angry LWJ & LSZ, LXC gets scolded)

NOT FOUND! Wei Ying Was Not A "MISTAKE" by Jeeny271196 (Not rated, 6k, wangxian, LXC & LWJ, BAMF LWJ, confrontation, hurt/comfort, protective LWJ, not LXC friendly)

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16. Hello, I have a fic finder request! Read it ages ago on ao3 and now cannot find.

Set during the time skip and then postcanon. Some Lan elders took advantage of LWJ's punishment to sexualy abuse him, taking him out of the cold cave blindfolded once a month. Afterwards, warmth was a trauma trigger and he only felt comfortable with the younger generation of Lans because he knew they were too young to have been involved. After canon and getting together with wwx he has a breakdown after realising that sex isn't suposed hurt and goes to sleep outside soaking wet so he can feel cold.

FOUND? 🔒 even the proud probably die on their knees by yuer (vintageblueskies) (E, 14k, wangxian, LXC & LWJ, LQR & LWJ, LWJ/Other(s), rape/non-con, Rape, Gang Rape, PTSD, Whump, Dissociation, Flashbacks, Recovery, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Bottom LWJ, breaking all the rules of empathy, tiny tiny mention of unacted upon xiyao, two mentions of a character throwing up, the non-con isn't wangxian)

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17. hello! thank you for doing this!

i was looking for this where wwx befriends lwj early on in school days and gets to know he's gay and defends him against everyone and people think he's lgbt+ because he attends everything on lwj's behalf. he didn't actually realize he was bi until they get into college and he meets mianmian there and starts dating her.

they have a mutual break up later and wwx sort of realizes he has feels for lwj and gets all weird about it?

hope it made sense.

thank you again!

FOUND? Walk the Circle in the Other Direction by notevenyou (E, 31k, wangxian, modern, College/University, High School, Coming Out, Homophobia, Bad Parenting, Alcohol, Recreational Drug Use, Vomiting, Panic Attack, Bullying, Minor Injuries, Blood, Fighting, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Oblivious WWX, honestly not as dark as the tags make it seem, bisexual WWX, WWX/MM, sex between a man and a woman)

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18. Hey do you guys know a fashion industry fic where people grow plants out of their bodies? I thought i had it in my bookmarks but i can't find it anymore @imstillthinkingaboutithmm

FOUND! The Roots Grow Riotous by hansbekhart (E, 104k, wangxian, modern, fashion au, garment company, casual sex, group sex, implied/referenced cheating, switching, recreational drug use, angst w/ happy ending, single dad WWX, panic attacks, implied/referenced self-harm, grief/mourning, catharsis, body horror, floral horror) but I don't think it's available online

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19. hello!! i'm looking for a fic where wwuxian, jiang cheng, and jin ling get invitations to some backwater-areas of yunmeng? but it's a trap. i cant remember the name but there's two significant parts i remember; they're served shrimp wine(?), and wwx gets whipped by zidian and promptly collapses later. thanks!!

FOUND? Light a Match / Watch Us Burn by athena_crikey (T, 24k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Post-Canon, Whump, h/c, Kidnapping, Angst, yunmeng bros reconciling, jin ling too)

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20. Hello, I’m looking for a fic where wwx runs into lwj in yiling after the core transfer

FOUND? these colours fade for you only by doodlebutt (T, 36k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Everybody Lives, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, ...eventually, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, bed sharing, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Sunshot Campaign)

FOUND? nothing gold can stay by rikke (M, 10k, WangXian)

FOUND? to hell and back for you by blumeraki (G, 5k, WangXian, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Universe, Protective WWX, Protective LWJ, Everything Hurts, Implied/Referenced Torture, Hurt WWX, Hurt LWJ, Branding Iron, Whipping, discipline whip, jc saves the day, Canon Divergence)

FOUND? no step had trodden black by Stratisphyre (T, 32k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Madam Lan lives, Past Rape, Golden Core Reveal, Hurt/Comfort, References to Attempted Suicide and Suicidal Thoughts, Canon-Typical Violence)

FOUND? Instead by apathyinreverie (T, 27k, wangxian, fix-it, darker gusu lan, manipulative elders, but in a good way?, golden core transfer fix-it of sorts, not Jiang friendly, or anyone friendly, except wangxian, cultivation world critical, fluff, sunshot, politics, courting rituals, genius WWX, no demonic cultivation, talismans, possessive LWJ, protective LWJ, WIP)

~*~

[artzee-bee]

Forever my love | Adrien Agreste x reader

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

Requested by @oyasumimosura

Summary: friends to strangers to lovers with a no-so-happy ending

Genre: some fluff, angst

Warnings: canon typical violence (maybe tuned up a notch tho), death

A/N: my google doc for this piece is 10 pages long and it’s went through at least 4 alternate endings before getting here. I got this request months ago and have been working on it since, whenever I can. I hope this is alright because it’s been a journey...

~~~

There was no ‘first memory’ with you. Not one that would come to Adrien’s mind anyways. It felt like you had simply always been in his life. The only thing he remembered was you and your mother, entering the Agreste mansion as if it was your own, almost every Sunday. His mom would welcome both of you with wide arms and offer you tea, and biscuits, which you would snuck to Adrien’s room. Your favorite have always been the ones with strawberry jam filling.

And then you’d play for hours! Building fortresses out of chairs and pillows, racing toy cars around the room, saving plush animals from the imminent danger of Adrien’s rocketship and so on. Not a single moment spent with you felt boring! Your presence was addictive, the joy, the excitement you brought with yourself every time was something Adrien couldn’t understand at the time but now, as an adult looking back, he could easily recognise it as love.

But the world has its own way of never quite letting you be happy enough. The memory of your last playdate, as well as the day his parents told him you were moving away, were very hazy and unclear. For years he refused to revisit them, the sorrow too great for his young, immature self to know how to handle. Now, there was only one sentence he could remember you saying, clear as day. One promise that gave him more hope than he could put in words. “We’ll keep in touch”.

You exchanged letters the whole time you were away!! Of course, they could never be a substitute for the time spent together but Adrien learned to appreciate them deeply. He took his time responding to each of them and always nervously awaited your response. Years went on like that! Every summer you’d promise to visit and every time Adrien would have the displeasure of having to read, in your flawless and delicate handwriting, that your parents canceled the trip for whatever reason.

Eventually, he decided it was best to move on. In the time you had been gone many things changed: he grew up, got big in the fashion industry, started school, became the new black cat miraculous holder, made friends! His life became overwhelmingly busy and the precious memories you made together faded away without notice. He found joy in other things and in his new friends! Your letters no longer brought the excitement they once did and consequently, he always postponed replying until eventually, it all stopped.

Much to Adrien’s shock, almost exactly a year after losing contact, he saw you! He had been transformed at the time, having just finished defeating an akuma when he saw you exiting a coffee shop down the street. He couldn’t believe his eyes and had it not been for the alarming beeping of his miraculous, he probably would have stayed petrified on top of that roof much longer. Once detransformed, he tried to go looking for you but to no avail.

It wasn’t until a week later that he finally got to talk to you again. Natalie reached out to your family and arranged for you two to meet. That Friday afternoon, you had lunch at a pizza place that you didn’t recognise. He looked the same. Same innocent glimmer in his eyes and ecstatic voice. It almost weirded you out how much it seemed this boy never changed. But of course, you weren’t right. Many things have changed.

Adrien tried his best to be open and friendly. To him, it felt like no time had passed at all, but you were so quiet and shy. A subtle frown was visible on your face from the moment you arrived and you barely looked him in the eyes. The air around you felt thick with discomfort, which was extremely frustrating to Adrien. He wanted to ask what’s wrong but found it so difficult to speak his mind until, eventually, you opened up yourself.

“Why did you stop writing?” your voice didn’t betray any feeling of anger or sadness and yet, Adrien was instantly washed over with guilt

“I’m sorry. I wanted to but…”

“Was I not worth it?”

“What?” Adrien couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth, but you were just as still and cold as before

“Because, you see, when we were kids you were one of the most important people in my life. You were my best friend and I honestly thought we would never ever be apart! No one could ever break us up! And I put everything I had into not losing that, convinced that you’d do the same for me! Because your friendship was worth more to me than any number of kilometers between us!” your words fell out quickly and stung him “Was I not worth fighting for, Adrien?”

He didn’t know what to say! He wanted to tell you he was just stupid and made a grave mistake. That you were more than worth it, but the words were stuck in his throat.

You didn’t speak after that. Adrien was heartbroken but figured you were already so mad at him, it would only make it worse if he kept pestering you on.

Eventually, one night, after patrol, he saw you! It was already way after dark and you were just strolling down the street all alone. A sense of anxiety overtook him and he knew he couldn’t go home just yet

“Good evening pretty lady!” he greeted you, full of glee. “The streets can get pretty nasty this late at night, y’know? Hope you don’t mind if this street cat walks alongside you for a while.”

“Hello Chat Noir!” your voice was so smooth and warm “ I’d really love that. I was actually quite uncomfortable walking alone.” “Well then, fear not!The bravest and strongest hero in all of Paris is right here at your service! Did I also mention the most charming?” you giggled to his silliness

Adrien was ecstatic to get to talk to you again, like old times. He finally felt like he got his friend back! He didn’t even realize how big of a hole your absence had left in his life. After that night, he would accompany you everyday on your evening walks and, soon enough, you began hanging out at your house. Oftentimes he would knock on your bedroom window shortly after you got home from school and more often than not, he would spend hours at your place. You did almost everything together from playing video games to watching movies, cooking, gossiping. He would tell you all the fun stories he had with Ladybug from their patrols and would blush a little when you began laughing uncontrollably. It was just too cute.

With all this joy, still there was an ounce of pain at the idea that you didn’t know who you were really talking to. Almost every time you called him Chat, his heart would sting a little. He liked being Chat Noir. He loved it even. With you however, it just felt like one big lie he could do nothing about. He wanted you to look at him and see the boy from all those years ago. To look at him and call him by his name. To rejoice in old memories, instead of him having to pretend he hears the story for the first time. Adrien couldn’t help but feel like he was betraying you by simply being here, knowing how mad you were with his civilian self. When those thoughts got to him, he felt more alone than ever, but you almost always picked up on it

“What’s wrong?” you would ask and the sweetness of your voice ran like ice down his body. You would not be this kind if you knew

“Absolutely nothing, I am doing wonderful” he’d say through gritted teeth

“Sit down and talk to me!”

“I can’t. It’s personal” which you knew really meant “It would put my identity in danger”

So you would shut up. You’d make tea or let him have the last cookie as a sign of solidarity. To let him know you still cared. Sometimes he would ask you for hugs, which you would indulge him in. You’d wrap your arms around his shoulders and hug him tight to your chest, trying to convey all the love and care you had for him in that one gesture. Almost always, the hero would melt into your embrace as if he’d never been held before. His head would rest on your shoulder and his blonde locks tickled your neck and cheek.

Confessing to you was the biggest risk he ever took, which meant a lot considering his occupation. It happened after yet another game of cards lost by Chat. It had been what felt like his 15th loss of the night and in a futile attempt to protect his remaining dignity, he slipped

“You’re only winning cause I love you too much to let you lose!” the cocky attitude dropped instantly as he processed his choice of words. You were just looking at him, a little quizzingly, unsure if you heard him right.

“Do you mean that?”

“I do”

The brightest smile overtook your features instantly “Good. I love you too!”

It was difficult for a long time. The secret identity issue became even greater with the new level of intimacy that was expected with the start of a romantic relationship. On top of that, Adrien was pretty clueless. You were his first girlfriend, the first girl he ever fell in love with, the pressure was high. He wanted to be the best boyfriend there was! He brought you many gifts, big and small. He spent as much time with you as he could, he always told you just how much you actually meant to him. The blush on your cheeks and the witty comebacks made him melt through his seat every time and with every happy memory he made with you came the unmistakable pain of never really being completely honest with you. On one of your sleepovers, the feelings were overwhelming Chat more than he thought was possible

“What’s going on Chat?”

“Nothing darling. Just tired”

“Come on, you know you can’t fool me! You’ve been quiet all night, it’s really unlike you”

Adrien’s mind went empty when you sat on the floor in front of him, lightly running your fingers over his leather clad ones. The trust and love in your eyes was so mesmerizing. No one had ever looked at him like that and for a split second he imagined your reaction if you knew who he was. He wondered if you’d kick him out. Break up with him here and now and never want anything to do with him ever again. He imagined the anger in your voice, the betrayal. And then, he considered, briefly, a different option. A scenario in which you’d hug him tight and kiss the top of his head, and there’d be no more lies. No more secrets, no more of these impossible feelings that were tormenting him. That smile, that bliss, engulfed his mind and he felt powerless in the face of hope.

“I’m sorry” he said weakly

“For what?” and before he could think for another second, talk himself out or consider the consequences of his actions, he did the only thing he felt was logical

“Plagg, claws in”

When the green light vanished and Adrien found himself back in his normal clothes, he didn’t muster to look at your face

“Chat, what are you doing?” finally, he glanced up, only to find you curled up on the ground, with your hands over your eyes. You hadn’t seen him

“It’s ok.”

“You detransformed?”

“Yes…”

“Chat you can’t do that.”

“I want you to see me” he tried to sound confident, but it came out almost as a plea.

“What about Ladybug?”

“I’ll deal with her later. It’s ok. I swear”

“Chat…”

“Please”

Adriean reached out to pull your hands away from your face, but your eyes were still closed

“Chat?”

“Yes?”

“Before I look, I want you to know that I love you regardless of who you are. If you’re doing this because you think I can’t love you fully without knowing your identity, if you’re doing this for me, please know that this won’t change anything. I want you to be comfortable with this, ok?” Adrien blushed, feeling tears well up in his eyes

“I want to do this” he kissed your knuckles “if that’s ok with you”

Slowly, you opened your eyes and Adrien felt his heart beating out of his chest. Your face went soft and your eyes welled up with tears and you looked at eachother. You couldn’t muster a word and neither could he. He took this as you being disappointed and let go of your hand, only for you to grab it once more, much harder than before. Finally, tears came rolling down your cheeks, as you whispered a simple “I love you”

That night, neither of you could stop crying. The liberation of all secrets and all lies felt divine and finally, Adrien felt like he was 100% safe for the first time in his life.

Many things changed after that. Adrien got a serious scolding from Ladybug, since he couldn’t lie to her about what he’s done. She wasn’t as mad as he expected her to be, so in the end it was all worth it when you began showing up to the Agreste mansion to hang out. It was hard for Adrien to find time to spend with her during the day but Natalie was always so understanding of their relationship and tried her best to squeeze in an hour or two here and there for you! Now, Adrien could hold your hand and take you to his photoshoots. You facetimed more often and it finally felt like you got the relationship you were always meant to have.

~~~

Paris looked beautiful from the top of the Eiffel tower. Chat took you here many times before. It felt so romantic being up there with your best friend, the boy of your dreams! You felt so powerful looking down at all the lights and cars passing by and at the same time so protected by his tight grip around your waist. Nothing could hurt you if he was there, with or without the costume! But the arms holding you now were much slimmer and much less concerned with your safety. You knew you shouldn’t look down from the edge you were standing on but it was so hard not to. Lila was manic next to you, laughing and shouting about her imminent victory, taunting the two superheroes that were struggling to catch up.The tiny robots Lila could control with her powers had kept Ladybug and Chat Noir busy for just enough time to allow the akumatized girl to take you with her, away from the scene and up here.

“Be careful with what you do next Ladybug, otherwise the girl gets it!” the taunting manner in which she spoke felt hardly like Lila. You never found her to be a particularly pleasant person to be around but the malice with which she spoke now was so unusual!

She kicked your shin, making one of your legs drop off the edge. Had it not been for her holding onto your forearm, you would have dropped. You could see Ladybug and Chat approaching but they were so far away and it felt like they were moving so slowly. A cry ripped through your chest as you hung there, your life in the hands of this girl you couldn’t even recognise anymore.You were trying to pull yourself back on the ledge with your other foot before she kicked that one too, swinging you in the air by your arm.

“Oh oh, but you’re so far away little Bug? Whatever are you gonna do if my hand …slips?” she let go with a chuckle.

Chat couldn’t see anything around him anymore, all he saw was your helpless body falling from the sky! He screamed your name but he was still so far! Ladybug threw her yoyo, trying to form a net below you, but the speed at which you were falling was much greater than anybody expected. You fell right through the net, breaking it to pieces and hit the ground with a hard thud. Chat screamed, Ladybug was speechless, all the while Lila was laughing on her way down!

“Chat, get her! I’ll handle Lila!”

That’s all it took. Chat was looking down at your unconscious form before he knew it. You were so bloody and so limp in his arms.

“Don’t!” you whispered when he tried to pick you up

“It’s not safe for you here, I need to hide you away!” he almost screamed, too relieved to see you alive to be able to control himself

“It’s over Chat!”

“Don’t talk like that! You will be ok! I will make you ok!”

“I’m tired…”

“No, don’t do it! Focus on me, focus on my voice! Can you see me?”

“You have to protect the people…”

“You are the only one I have to protect! I’m sorry I wasn’t there to catch you, I’m sorry! Please! Please let me protect you!” tears were streaming down his face and he found himself thinking that he would sell his soul to switch places with you

“Chat, I love you” you said through your own tears

“Don’t say goodbye!”

“I’m not”

“I love you Y/N! I love you so much, please don’t leave me alone! I can still save you!” he laid his head on your chest, not believing his own words

“I’ll always love you Adrian!” you whispered in his ear, kissing his temple with the last of your powers

~~~

“You need to hurry up, Adrian needs to be at a press conference across town in one hour and we’re already behind schedule because of you!”

“Nathalie, stop that! Everyone is doing their best here.”

“This photoshoot was supposed to be over already!”

“Maybe you should go have some water while you wait, yeah?” Adrien was trying to be nice but he felt really bad about the way Nathalie was speaking to the makeup artist. He knew they were very busy and Nath was under a great deal of stress but still, he felt it wasn’t fair to the girls working hard to get him ready.

“I’m sorry about that! She’s a lovely person, it’s just the last couple of days have been really hard for her”

“Oh, it’s alright, sir. Trust me I’ve seen much worse before” the young girl replied “Plus, I would imagine that making the switch to become a full time model would bring on a lot more responsibilities on her side.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Adrien chuckled. “If you would have told me last year, when I was still in school, that my schedule would be even more packed as a graduate, I would have probably given up modeling then and there. Now I just deal with it.”

Adrien observed himself in the mirror, thinking back to his high school days. He tried to remember what he looked like, although that was very difficult. He knew his hair was much longer now, reaching just below his chin. He thought his face was a bit slimmer and many people told him he put on a healthy amount of muscle in the last couple of months, but  he was still himself, just 20.

“If you don’t mind sir, we need the first couple of buttons of your shirt undone for the next set. I will add a little contour to the collarbones and then we’re done”

Said and done, with the first few buttons open he looked even more manly than before.

“Um, I think we should take the necklace off if you don’t mind…”

Eyes shot down to his chest, where a tiny silver ring on a chain hung, barely glistening in the lights around.

“Yes, that’s alright” he said, although he never liked taking it off. There was always a worry in the back of his hand about misplacing it or something and the thought was simply unbearable, but he understood.

“That’s a very beautiful piece of jewelry”

“Thank you!” he looked down at the ring twirling it between his fingers. It was so simple, he wasn’t used to receiving compliments on it, even from the select few that got to see it. A simple golden band with a round diamond in the middle. It was so small for him, he could never get it more than halfway down his ring finger. “It belonged to somebody I cared a lot about.” He remembered how hard he worked to get your ring size, all those years ago. It was difficult to do it behind your back, since you had always been so good at reading his body language, you always knew when he was up to something. He remembered all those nights spent on the internet, looking for the perfect ring for you! He knew it needed to be simple but sometimes it was so hard to talk himself out of buying one of the big and glamorous ones. He just wanted to spoil you rotten and if he didn’t take the chance to do that when he was buying your engagement ring, then when would he? Finally, after weeks, he finally found this one and fell in love. It was perfect for you and you were gonna love it. The day it arrived was one of the most exciting times he experienced in the last decade, he could still feel his heart pumping now, at the memory.

“They can’t wear it anymore so I just keep it!” in fact, you had never even gotten the chance to try it on, but those details don’t need to be shared. Still, thinking about the incident, taking place only 2 weeks after he got the ring, hurts him to no end. He was planning the perfect engagement, a grand romantic gesture to make all your dreams come true but now he felt sorrow and regret, wishing he would have simply ran to your door the same day that package was delivered to ask you. At least then you would have known, you would have had the chance to say yes.

“I’m sure they were an incredible person” Adrien only nodded to that “Well, you’re all done, you can head to the set now”

“Thank you, I’ll just drop this off to Nathalie and go”

The pain of not having you around would never go away, Adian had accepted that as a fact! You would always be there for any anniversary or birthday, achievement or simply on lazy days when his mind would wonder. Nothing made the sting of not being able to hold your hand go away but at least the ring, your ring, would comfort him in those moments.

[zai-doodles]

lucy hc pls and leo too ❤️

lucy hcs r so crazy long im gonna just focus on leo and lucys dynamic and how that goes down

I still loke was banished from the spirit world but his whole backstory has to change

(if u r unfamiliar with how i write the zodiac spirits, they r basically minor gods who have been around for thousands of years and run their own churches kinda like norogami, only members of the church r able to wield that spirits key and while it is normal to be part of more than one church the cap is typically like 3 just cuz mages bodies arent able to handle so many different types of magic/bonds)

((also also when a spirit dies they r just replaced with a new one that is typically a manifestation of the beliefs of the followers at the time))

Aight so karen was basically the leader of the Leo church for a while, one of Leo's most trusted followers Loke has only been Leo for like 20 years at this point and karen has been a member of the church since she was like 5, she's 30 now and knew the pervious Leo She does not like loke very much but respects him regardless for the first few years She establishes a contract with Aries and raises in the ranks quickly just from being such a high ranking wizard already She takes charge of both churches and starts to see that the Leo church is "superior" to the other churches Mechanically, it's just like Leo is v dps coded to me lol, so it's much more versatile than most of the other churches, the only perceived threat in Karen's mind is the church of aquarius Conflict between church's is taboo and strictly prohibited, however karen using her influence over both the Aries and Leo followers launches a coordinated assault on the aquarius church Loke didn't know about the attack until far too late and was blamed by aquarius and the queen (the king of the spirits in now a queen and I'm naming her Nyx like the greek goddess for now) for being blinded and naive to let a bunch of mortals outsmart him Karen dies in the attack and despite everything loke did consider her a friend even tho she betrayed him and he decides he's not worthy of being the Lion spirit and for the next 50 years exiles himself as a human He avoids any and all celestial mages like the plague and joins fairy tail only because they didn't have any celestial mages at the time When lucy joins he considers just leaving like every other time he's joined a guild and a celestial mage joins but hearing the name heartfilia makes his curiosity get the better of him He didn't know Layla personally but her reputation proceeded her and the respect/ favoritism aquarius showed for her was v well known among the spirits As a small attempt at atonement for what he did to aquarius, he resolves to keep an eye on lucy in hopes that maybe aquarius can learn to forgive him one day But then lucy figures him out v quickly bc any celestial mage with a brain would be able to connect loke with the lost Lion spirit Maybe there's a small lore dump that loke overhears where lucy is telling someone abt the war of spirits, where Leo attacked aquarius and she struck him down and no one has seen the spirit for 50 years He still has a few followers, he lends them Magic which is y he's dying so rapidly since he prioritizes his followers over his life They can never summon him/ he doesn't come when they call By the time canon starts he has no followers left because he has no magic left to give People look for him, viewing it as some kind of test since it's widely known that when a spirit dies another version of them takes their place, and his constellation still sits in the sky But its dimmer than the others now like its fading Loke hopes the next Leo will do better than him but the flickering constellation has never happened before, so when canon starts he's trying to figure out the fuck is up with that Basically bc he's dying with no followers there's no magic/ belief to inform his next incarnation, so once he dies he won't be reborn Lucy probably figures this out and it's so dramatic lol

[solargeist]

What do the watchers in your au feel about all the winners of the life series? You can include real life if want to or not

i.. still have no idea how to incorporate the other life games into the evoAU TBH............. So far just 3rd life is canon to it.

Tho regardless, I always imagine being a Winner is very superficiel, you don't rly get anything out of it, yay you won ! clap clap ! you killed all your friends, good luck next time ! bye bye ! Its purely for the Watcher's entertainment. So thats all the winners typically are, players in a game. pixels on a screen.

[starbornsoulrider]

Intro Post (finally)

hiya! I'm Wren. he/they, nonbinary, pansexual star stable player who got sucked into this silly horse game by accident. I am the self proclaimed no. 1 Darko hater (/silly) and also huge lover of the Soul Riders they're one of the big reasons I stuck w/ the game (and as of late I've been hyperfixating on the Dark Riders just as much tbh)

my main server (as of rn) is Watermelon Beach but I'll hop from time to time. I'm a pretty socially anxious person so if u meet me in game don't expect me to talk very much pls, i'll say hi to you tho

in game my name rn is Blake Crazyfrog but when and if the name change update drops i'll probably be changing that to Haley Starborn. speaking of which, lemme introduce you to my main SSO OC: Halo! quick summary of their backstory: one day, they washed up on the shores of Moorland with little to no memory of who they were, just an inner longing to return to the stars and a mysterious connection to one of the horses at the nearby stables. thus begins their journey to adapting to life on earth, navigating their way around Jorvik's mysteries, and growing into the role as the fifth Soul Rider.

^ one of my bingles of all time ft. their starter and soul horse, Babyboy, who is also typically my main horse in game. don't ask me how many horses I have I lost count a long time ago but its at least over 100 by now. not all of them are canonically owned by Halo but I haven't fully decided which ones are yet.

typical dni rules, just don't a bigot or asshole and we're cool. also if you're like. an avid hater of the soul riders or something please like. avoid this blog that's partly for my own comfort and also you probably wouldn't enjoy it here anyway.

i mostly post screenshots but i also post art! sometimes. when I feel like struggling through the pain of drawing horses. art posts will b tagged with #my art

you can find more info about Halo here!

home stable: Valedale

lvl: 24

[hyperfixiation-station]

Choice, Choices, Choices Pt. 2

TW: Swearing, canon typical violence

Pairing: Reader x Graves Summary: Well your week off wasn't very productive, hopefully a really stressful, fate-of-the-world-is-in-your-hands mission will help clear your brain. As usual, I didn't beta read, so lmk if there are an errors :) Also sorry for the reupload, I accidentally deleted it whilst trying to edit something lmaooo.

When Price said a lot, he meant a lot. 

In the time you had been gone, a new terrorist threat had popped up, a man named Hassan who somehow had gotten ahold of American missiles. You didn’t even have time to unpack before Price was shipping you off to Mexico to help Soap and Ghost infiltrate a cartel to find the location of said missing missiles. It seems the talk with Graves will have to wait.

You get no rest on the flight to Mexico. Instead you spend the entire time focusing on your and Grave’s relationship. Maybe it’s the threat of imminent annihilation, or maybe it’s the fact that you are going to be seeing him soon, but whatever it is, you were thinking more clearly than you have all week. 

Graves was a man of authority, and you had recognized it from the moment you had met him. He took what he wanted, when he wanted, and made sure everyone knew he was the top dog. In your relationship he always had the last say, always chose the restaurant, always chose the movie. And for the most part, you didn’t mind, enjoying the feeling of not having to be in control for once when all you did all day long was make choices that could mean life or death. 

He had this belief that he could do no wrong, and was smug and uptight and sometimes even cruel about it. 

And yet there was something…alluring about him. Some magnetic charm that drew you in every time you wanted to take a step back. He didn’t even have to try, hell, he had stopped putting effort into the relationship years ago, and yet you still found him almost irresistible. 

You weren’t stupid, you knew what there were issues in the way your relationship worked, but you loved him, and he…loved you too. It wasn’t until Ghost stepped fully into the picture that you realized that may-

“Y/N!” You flinch, your eyes coming up to meet your pilots as his voice snaps you out of your musings.  

“You okay in there? I’ve been yelling at you for at least a minute.” He says over the headset, “Anyways we’re about to land, so get ready.” You nod, shouldering your pack and making sure your vest is strapped correctly. 

5 minutes later, the helo begins its choppy descent. The second it touches down you are ushered off, ducking under the blades in an odd crab run as you make your way to where Soap, Ghost, and 2 strangers stand to the side. The pilot takes off before you've even cleared the LZ. 

“Good ta’ see yer no’ dead lassie.” Soap grin, clasping your shoulder, “Ah trust Price has briefed ye?” 

“Aye.” You nod, “Though he didn’t mention these two. Who are they?”

“These are th’ Los Vaqueros.” Soap says giddy, “Means th’ cowboys” 

“My name is Alejandro.” The taller one on the left tells you.

“Mine’s Rodolfo, tho y’ can call me Rudy.” The one on the right says moments later.

“Nice to meet you.” You incline your head, avoiding Ghost’s searching gaze, “I take it you’re the ones leading us through this, uh…whatever we’re about to do?” 

“Aye.” Alejandro turns and begins walking, everyone else falling in line behind him, “Soap here is infiltrating Las Almas, we are looking for El Sin Nombre. We believe he knows the location of the missiles Hassan has stolen.” 

You climb into the back of a truck, consciously avoiding sitting next to Ghost. The drive is tense, the silence only occasionally broken by questions from Alejandro and Soap. The truck comes to a stop, and you all pile out, getting Soap outfitted for his ‘Day in the life of a cartel member’ extravaganza. 

“Y/n!” You spin around, seeing Graves walking towards you, “How was your week off?” 

“It was good. Did a lot of…thinking.” 

“Wonderful.” He says, his eyes already looking past you. He presses a quick kiss to your cheek and moves past, going to speak with his Shadows. You sigh internally, moving over to Soap and Ghost. 

“How wis yer week off?” Soap asks as a Shadow helps fit his comms. He’s grinning, his blue eyes almost glowing in the dark, but you can see the faint lines of fear in his expression.

“It was since. Did a lot of thinking, I guess.” Ghost shifts, a subtle movement you notice out of the corner of your eye. Your face flushes, and you’re grateful it’s dark out so he can’t see. 

“Let's roll!” Alejandro calls. Soap nods, and you follow him and Ghost back to the truck. This drive is tense for a whole other reason, everyone thinking about all the ways this could go wrong. 

You get to the compound, and take your spot on a ridge with Ghost. No words are exchanged, but you know him well enough by now to tell he is worried about you. If Soap’s life, and the lives of millions of Americans, weren’t at risk, you would be grateful for this mission delaying the inevitable conversation you have to have. 

You both get into position, sniper rifles trained on the building. You wince as Soap is manhandled, a deep pit of fear in your stomach once he disappears from your view.

 Now all that's left is to sit and wait. 

He emerges victorious, much to yours and Ghost’s relief. He brings with him El Sin Nombre, who apparently is actually a woman, and an old friend of Alejandros. You could see yourself liking her, if she hadn’t sold missiles to terrorists.

She is feisty, smart, and cunning. She keeps her mouth shut, refusing to volunteer the location of the 2nd missile, instead goading Alejandro into a frenzy. You watch, eyes narrowed in distaste, as Graves tries to make a deal with her. Not for the first time, you judge his ability to make decisions. 

But she does give you all the missile location. In what feels like a matter of moments, you find yourself on a boat, heading through stormy waves towards an oil rig off the Gulf of Mexico. Grave’s Shadows launch an attack, only for Ghost to find that the missile not only has entered pre-launch phase, but wasn’t even on the oil rig to begin with. Instead, you find it on the deck of a ship, primed and ready to fire. You, Graves, Soap, and Ghost file onto the cargo ship, where you find that there is no way to disarm the missile. 

Your heart sinks, until Shepard has the great idea to turn the missile on the oil rig. Alejadro and the Shadow Company clear out, and Soap hacks in and resets the missile's trajectory. The burning ball of flame is a beautiful sight to see, in your opinion. 

“Gold Eagle Actual, Shadow-1. Good hit. Good hit. Missile and rig destroyed.” Graves crows,  a grin lighting up his face. He grasps Soaps shoulder, and you watch him mouth a quiet Good work, his voice too quiet to hear over the noise of the shadows and everyone celebrating.

Without thinking, you press a kiss to Ghost’s masked cheek, the euphoria of victory clouding your senses. Soap steps in to give Ghost a moment to recover, and gives you a side hug, slapping you on the back a little too hard for your liking. You don’t notice Graves eyes on you, narrowing with your every action. 

The ride back is still tense, the tension between you and Ghost so thick you can almost taste it. Luckily Soap either can’t sense it, or just is just ignoring it, the Scotsman happily chattering away as the sinking feeling in your heart grows and grows. 

The crisis is over, and once you get back you won’t be able to put off your conversation with Graves any longer. 

It’s still raining when you get back to the Los Vaquero’s base. The truck comes to a stop outside the gates, and you slide out of the truck after Ghost, confused and a bit wary. 

“What’s this?” You hear Alejadro’s voice from the other side of the truck. 

“This is the immediate future.” You stop short, Grave’s voice making your blood run cold, “Step away from the gate.” No. There is no way. 

“You’re outta line Graves.” You blink, hard, realizing you had zoned out for a moment. You force your feet to move again, rounding the truck, stiffening as a barrel is pressed into your spine.

“Hey!” Grave’s voice echoes in your ears, “Let her go. She’s with us.” You inhale sharply, looking up at him in shock. Soap looks at you in betrayal, taking half a step towards you before the Shadows are on him as well. 

“Don't do that. Don't... do that. No one needs to get hurt here.” Graves says, eyes narrowed. 

“Are you threatening us?” You can hear the betrayal in his voice as well, though he does his best to hide it. You want to look at him, try and communicate that you have no part in this, but your mind is still reeling, and you’re unable to draw your wide eyes away from Grave’s face. 

“Soldier, I don't make threats. I make guarantees. So, let's not do this.” The animosity in Graves' voice surprises you. 

“I’m calling Shepard.” Soap turns, hand reaching for his radio. 

“General Shepard sends his regards.” Graves' grin is predatory, and you have no doubt he’s enjoying this, “He told me you wouldn’t take this well.” 

“He knows about this?” Ghost’s eyes are dark, his body tense and ready to spring. 

“He's put me in command of this operation from here on out. So, y'all need to stand down. It's time to let the pros finish this.” You watch Graves still, eyes trained on his face, your brain numb with shock. Shock and…disgust. 

“And why the hell are we talking like this is some kind of a negotiation?” Graves continues, “It's not. I've got my orders and now you have yours.” 

“And who the fuck do you think you are, cabron? My men are inside!” 

“I'm afraid not.” Graves pauses, meeting your eyes with a disgusting grin, “Your men have been... detained.”

“Cabron!” For the first time, you manage to tear your eyes away from Graves, your gaze falling on Alejandro as he launches himself towards your boyfriend only to be beaten down and restrained by his Shadows. 

“Graves, what th’ fuck?” Your eyes dart to Soap as he lunges at the Shadow next to him, holding him hostage. You let out a small cry as Graves and his men open fire. You duck behind the truck, watching as Ghost elbows the Shadow behind him before stabbing another one in the neck, quickly ripping the blade back out and hurling it at another Shadow before disappearing into the dark. 

“Get your fucking hands off me!” Your hands fly up to cover your mouth as you watch Graves slam the butt of his gun into Alejandro’s head, dropping him. You stare at Graves in shock, unable to move as your mind tries to process what's happening. 

Soap yells in pain, snapping you from your reverie as you spin to look at him. He’s on the ground, the Shadow he had taken laying dead on top of him. 

“Go, Johnny! Get out of there!” Ghost yells from somewhere behind you “Soap, Go!” You watch as Soap heaves himself up and throws himself over the barrier, disappearing from your view. You slide down the truck, sinking to the ground as your legs give out, your entire body shaking. 

Graves' actions start to sink in, and gods does his betrayal hurt. It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before, worse than the time you broke your arm, worse than the time you got shot in the thigh, worse than any wound you had ever received. It’s like a physical pain, your heart feeling as though it’s been ripped from your chest. Tears well in your eyes, your fingers digging into your palms in an effort to stop your tears. 

You don’t know how long you sit in the rain, but it’s enough time for you to be completely soaked head to toe. You are surrounded by blood and bodies, and your mind reels as you survey the scene. Alejandro is gone, you’re not sure when he was taken away. Soaps rifle is still laying in the street, a very damming pool of blood underneath and around it. With the amount of blood he lost, you're surprised he's not dead. Oh gods he better not be dead.

“Y/n?” Graves' voice breaks the fog in your brain, “Darling? Are you alright? I know this was...a bit of a surprise…but I’m sure you understand.” 

“Graves…”

To be continued.

Notes: Sorry for how long this took!!! But it's here now! Hopefully Pt. 3 won't take me another thousand years. Anyways I hope you enjoy, and sorry if this is not the direction you wanted it to go :/ Tags: @redhoodxsupergirl @infpt-zylith @scarletdfox

[brown-little-robin]

HI so sorry to barge in here unannounced like this but u seem to have a lot more knowledge about japanese language/culture/social etiquette than i do and i've seen u mention dimple's mannerisms in canon once or twice and like . i'd love to hear more abt that if ur willing to ramble for a bit. i've been Very curious just how far dimple's Rudeness goes, but i know very little about the culture. i'm sure some things he does or says seem fairly normal to me but is considered very rude or disrespectful to the characters. no pressure tho ofc :]

hi Rika!! literally drop in anytime! I,, I appreciate this ask so much and will answer as best as I can, but I'm a very new student of Japanese and Japanese culture, so take what I say with a grain of salt! also I personally am going to tag @russenoire to respectfully invite them to partake in this conversation if they think it would be fun (no pressure of course!). they have been studying this much longer than I have :}

putting my thoughts under a cut because !!! I love to ramble!!! note: all of this is based on Dimple's Japanese voice & mannerisms from the anime. I don't have the manga in Japanese yet 🙏

As a preface: Ekubo's direct/rude/familiar speech style is typical in anime and not unheard-of in real life, but it's definitely worth noticing! Mob Psycho 100, particularly, gets a lot of its unique interest out of taking unrealistic anime expectations and saying "HEY pay attention to this, WHY is this happening, this is immature behavior, why are adults in this universe letting this happen", and making it funny and/or serious. So!!! let's dive in.

So, okay, Dimple's mannerisms. The first thing to know is very general. he usually speaks in the casual register (which has a whole distinct vocabulary from the more polite registers: for instance, he tends to end his sentences with "da" rather than "desu", which are both "is" verbs with the exact same meaning, just a different connotation). the casual register is comparatively... direct. Dimple using casual implies that he thinks of himself as on familiar terms with and/or higher in the social hierarchy than whoever he's speaking to. casual Japanese is par for the course in anime in general, especially for people expressing arrogance, like Ekubo does all the time. But still, that's A Choice. it expresses simultaneous superiority (I am allowed to speak to you in informal terms because I'm above you) and also, possibly, desire for closeness (Ekubo speaks to Shigeo in familiar terms like they're brothers).

(Politeness, respect, and distance are linked in Japanese. Casual language isn't always rude, but in the wrong situation, it can be jarring and disrespectful. Using casual Japanese is a sign of confidence and personal closeness in your relationship with someone—new friends will switch from formal to casual language at some point and typically never go back; siblings use casual language with each other as a matter of course. It's very situational.)

The second thing to know is, there are choices of first person pronouns in Japanese!!! And Ekubo's choice is spectacular. He refers to himself as "ore-sama". "ore" (roughly pronounced "o-ray") is one of two typical Japanese casual male pronouns, ore and boku. (the formal first-person pronoun for men is watashi). To my knowledge, "ore" was originally the only casual male pronoun, and then "boku" entered popular use as a more humble option and changed the meaning of the formerly more neutral-sounding "ore" by competing with it, which is fascinating. but I'm getting distracted. "ore" is the more aggressively masculine pronoun; it's considered rough/direct to the point of being rude in many contexts. And Ekubo doesn't just use "ore" (ore is a widely-used choice!), he adds the honorific -sama to the end. This is extremely macho. SUPER arrogant. It tracks with his desire to become a god: -sama is the honorific for kami as well as the honorific for people who are way higher ranked than you. giving someone the honorific -sama expresses a greater gap between you and them than -san does. this is hilarious to me. Dimple is over here referring to himself as 🔥 ME 👑 every time he uses first-person pronouns. (Mob uses boku, btw.) ore-sama isn't not used irl, but it's, uh. highly highly unusual, from what I can tell. sounds like a biker gang boss kind of thing to me—something someone on the fringes of society would use. no shade to those outside "polite society" from me, btw, I'm just stating the general connotation from a majority cultural perspective.

OH AND SPEAKING OF HONORIFICS. I'm guessing you've seen analysis of this before and/or just Get It from cultural osmosis, but Dimple calls Shigeo "Shige-chan" the second time they meet. -chan is a usually-affectionate diminutive usually given to girls younger than yourself or celebrities people find cute; I think they translate it as "li'l Shige" in the English dub? -chan has cutesy connotations and can be infantilizing if it's not used with permission and/or some kind of... y'know... familiarity and understanding between the person giving the honorific and the person being referred to with -chan. it is super disrespectful of Dimple to call Shigeo Shige-chan having just met him, and having gotten off on a terrible foot with Shigeo, no less. what the heck, Ekubo!!

And then Dimple proceeds to call him just Shigeo with no honorific at all, which is ALSO disrespectful?? given that Dimple doesn't know him, really?? too familiar, too abrupt! As a strange adult, he should be calling him Shigeo-kun! But he's treating Mob like a little brother. (For instance, as the older brother, Shigeo has the right to call Ritsu by the first name and only the first name, whereas Ritsu usually calls Shigeo "Nii-san". To my knowledge, that's not unnatural in Japanese the way it would be in English; it's not Ritsu reiterating their bond every five seconds, it's just the Expected Thing for the younger brother to refer to the older brother as "Nii-san" out of respect. you'll see the Shiratori brothers, Daichi and Kaito, doing the same thing if you pay attention. to each other, they are "Kaito" and "Nii-san". BUT ANYWAY)

Another Dimple regularly does that reads as arrogant/direct to me is sometimes speaking in a Really Low Voice. This is where my knowledge gets hazy—it's more about pronunciation and accent than "behavior" as such, so bear with me, but the general pitch of one's voice is important in Japanese. Girls and women tend to pitch their voices higher than their natural range in Japanese, especially when doing "polite" or "customer service voice". Japanese speaking men often raise their pitches for politeness/to express humility or a conciliatory attitude too, even though it's not as extreme as with women. And men who are performing aggression will often lower their pitch on purpose, creating a growling kind of effect. Dimple does this a lot. Let me see if I can embed a video of him doing it here

YES. OKAY. Listen to the difference between his mental voice and his spoken voice here!! Dimple uses a higher pitch when talking to Mob because he's trying to ingratiate himself with Mob, but then when he's muttering to himself, he reverts back to his evil-spirit, gang-boss, stereotypically-yakuza-sounding kind of... deep growl.

Relatedly, Ekubo rolls his r's. he rolls them hard. That's a really rough way of speaking, definitely not typical in "polite" Japanese. people learning Japanese are told not to roll their r's unless they want to sound like they're yakuza wannabes. (He also, to my ear, tends to kind of roll his vowels?? he puts his voice backwards in his mouth, pronouncing things either near his nose or deep in his throat, and kind of crushes them with his mouth as they emerge. I don't know if there's a word for this, but to my synesthesia it looks like his voice goes spiky. it's a COMPLETELY different sound than the smooth pronunciation of polite Tokyo-style Japanese. I don't actually have a point this is just interesting to me)

That's about all I have for now! I'm fascinated by Dimple's speaking style and what it says about him. Sorry this was more about accent than behavior—as far as behavior goes, I mean, he's weird. he's weird! as a ghost, he's not really a part of society and he just wanders around making fun of people, which would be rude in any culture. I have a whole Other rant about how Dimple improved as a person after Reigen started treating him as an employee and how that adds to MP100's theme of society and connection, but now is not the time. I hope this has been interesting to you!! Thank you for the ask!