#ive already mentioned this a few times before in my tags but. yeah.
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ladyimaginarium · 3 months ago
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coining the term twospiritphobia / twospiritmisia.
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Q: what is twospiritphobia / twospiritmisia?
A: the discrimination, hatred, exclusion & erasure of those who identify as two spirit and/or indigiqueer.
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Q: why not just call it homophobia/transphobia against indigenous qipoc / queer indigenous poc?
A: because not every indigenous person identifies by western lgbtqia+ labels which are a predominantly western eurocentric concept that does not always align with indigenous turtle island concepts, not all queer natives identify with two spirit due to its heavy inherent historical, social, political, cultural, spiritual & ceremonial connotations & because we deserve to have our terms to describe our own experiences of discrimination that inherently includes our indigeneity & our own sacred two spirit nature.
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Q: why did you(&) coin this term?
A: because i've noticed that in the past year & even before, the predominantly white queer community refuses to include us let alone see us & when they do, it's usually to tokenize us then throw us away when we're no longer convenient, erase us (see: nex benedict, when the mostly white queer community erased their indigenous two spirit identity to make them their trans/nonbinary martyr despite them being choctaw & completely ignoring mmeiwg2s+/mmeip issues which is never talked about in queer spaces unless natives talk about it), talk down to us when we don't conform to your western concepts of gender & orientation that do not inherently apply to us, speak over us & our issues & push us out of your fucking queer spaces without ever actually trying to work with us despite the fact that we the two spirit community who were revered as sacred have existed on turtle island for over 5000 years & were the first victims & survivors of racist imperialist homophobic & transphobic based war crimes & genocide & have been fighting & resisting for our liberation far before anyone else ever set foot on these lands, longer than any other queer community on turtle island, longer than stonewall & whenever queer history is brought up, two spirit people & the violence against us from the beginning of colonization of turtle island are never discussed & quite frankly i've had enough of native erasure both historically speaking & in the present day. there's a reason why there's a 2s in front of 2slgbtqia+ in "canada", because we were here first. we will not be erased. there can be no liberation without two spirits at the center of queer activism. by adding this to your vocabulary you acknowledge & honor two spirits as the first queer people of turtle island & we deserve your allyship, respect, protection & solidarity, respect the indigenous roots of the term two spirit, honor indigenous peoples' way of living, loving & learning & building communities across turtle island, emphasize the importance of indigenous perspectives & identities within the broader 2slgbtqia+ community & further acknowledging & recognizing the historical & ongoing contributions of indigenous peoples to discussions about gender & sexual diversity & highlights the need for visibility & inclusion of two spirits in these conversations & acknowledging, respecting & honoring indigenous peoples as the traditional stewards of the land & that indigenous peoples were the first to build communities that honored romantic, sexual, gender & sex diversity on the land of turtle island ever since time immemorial.
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Q: what are some examples of twospiritphobia?
A: the erasure of two spirits both historically & in the present, assaulting/committing hatecrimes against individuals who are, or who are perceived or assumed to be two spirits, nonnatives — both white settlers & nonnative poc — culturally appropriating two spirit when it's an exclusive closed term from closed cultures for indigenous people of turtle island, if you are not first nations, métis, inuit, indigenous american, alaska native, indigenous mexican, indigenous central american, greenlandic inuit or otherwise not indigenous to turtle island and/or mixed with any of those groups, & you are not either reconnecting, semiconnected or connected to your culture, you cannot use the term, using antinative slurs against two spirits on any context or form that one cannot reclaim and/or using said antinative slurs casually/as insults, harassing/threatening/mocking/intimidating two spirit individuals while motivated by said individual's two spirit & indigenous identity whether online or face-to-face, treating two spirits differently than pericishetallo natives, even if one is native themselves, attempting to "correct" two spirits on their own identities, saying our two spirit identities are wrong, using religion and/or spirituality as an excuse to harm or exclude two spirit people, fetishizing/objectifying/sexualizing/romanticizing individuals based on their two spirit identities, opposing and/or dismissing the need for explicit two spirit representation & progress for two spirit rights & two spirit liberation, erasing two spirit issues as inherently gay/trans issues, not acknowledging twospiritphobic behavior in others, refusing to speak up for two spirit people, telling two spirits that they're unnatural or "attention seeking", speaking over two spirited people when they tell you you're being racist/being twospiritphobic, policing two spirits on who we can & can't be in relation to ourselves especially from nonnatives even more from white settlers, accusing two spirits of "oppression olympics" whenever we bring up our issues, not acknowledging two spirits as the first queer people who've existed for thousands of years on turtle island & denying indigeneity as the core element of being two spirit.
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disclaimer: do not fucking remove credit from us& being the coiner of this term, while the experiences of twospiritphobia/twospiritmisia are nothing new, we& as an indigenous bodied system demand respect as the coiner of this term. please ask if you intend on using this term on your wikis/masterlists. do not use this term for yourself to describe your experiences if nonnative/2S. nonnatives do not fucking derail, especially yt folx.
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cannibaltranssexual · 2 years ago
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lucabyte · 3 months ago
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ppl saying they look to my comics for inspiration and pointers on how to format things is WILDDDD to me (and delightful don't get me wrong!! i am overjoyed) because like. none of you are privvy to the absolute WAHHH I DONT WANNNAAA bitchfits i was *CONSISTANTLY* throwing every time i forced myself to make a comic before i got into isat. like no joke. i considered comics such a fucking difficult medium they always drained my drawing energy so hard because they always felt like they took sooo long and had so many moving parts and were so much harder than storyboards (WHICH I ALREADY STRUGGLED WITH) because you had to account for panel shape and speech bubbles and-- like you get it. but genuinely for real. the sheer amount that i complained whenever i clawed my way through drawing a comic (which thus! was not very fucking much!!) compounded by the fact that i *genuinely have trouble reading comics*. as in, i really struggle to parse the flow of contiguous movement or action between panels (possibly connected to the fact ive got mad aphantasia?) of even really well done best-of-the-best professional comics...
... BUT. basically. what im trying to get at is. if you wanna learn to draw comics, evidently you super can?! I genuinely *didnt* draw comics before drawing isat fanart! I have no idea what it was about ISAT fanart that made it finally click for me? (I think it was... not having to think about colour? Removing a step from the process really helped. Plus, it being fanwork meant I could just start en-medias-res and not have to think about setup... Trying to cram too much explanation and setup into my oc stuff was always a big hurdle too...)
I find them fast to do now! and damn if i dont value speed in art (<- impatient little fucker). its still going slowly on my oc comics.. mostly due to the colour again, i think. but it's not extremely, ecruciatingly difficult anymore. is what im saying. and im genuinely baffled by it every time i put pen to page. its fucked up. did you guys know that practice makes things easier? . fucking perverted if you ask me.
As for looking at other people's things for inspiration. if you want to know where I was looking when I was piecing together the first couple fancomics I did for ISAT i want to specifically point at . well besides everything rebecca sugar has ever done (for hands and facial expressions *especially*), the main person i really dug into the work of was Leo Fox (Website link). I feel like i wanna point people to the source of a lot of the inspiration for my more off-kilter panel choices so you all can get the full experience rather than through my regurgitated mimesis. I'm now at the point where i can wing panel layout so i wasn't in there for longgg but. everyone go add it to your knowledge banks as for SUBJECT MATTER aka why i am i so deranged. those are squarely the 2019 postcanon homestuck golden era bleeding through my CLENCHED BITTEN DOWN JAW. A BULL TERRIER ON YOUR BRACHIAL ARTERY. namely that @/floralmarsupial and @/tomatograter's works (no i am not tagging them . im shy) are things i go back to frequently and floralmarsupials pure black/white inktober comics were *especially* an inspiration. if you've been following me a few months you may remember me reblogging a bunch of their stuff from 2019~2021 for seemingly no reason. this was why. The narratively divorced reality of jade strider & Liminal Space are big in my mind here. I balk to call myself anywhere near as good as these but these are what i'm aiming for, tonally and quality-ways with it. also detective pony but ive mentioned that already and thats farrrr too inside baseball for this post.
BUT YEAH TL;DR: I DIDNT DRAW LIKE ANY COMICS UNTIL UHHHH LIKE, WHAT, LIKE 8 MONTHS AGO? JESUS. ANYWAY. THIS MEANS YOU 🫵🫵🫵 CAN DO IT TOO. BELIEVE IN YOURSELF. DATTEBAYO!!!!
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spagheddiesquash · 11 months ago
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more mw oc stuff really quick before i head off to bed
ok so you know how i mentioned in tags that i might redo eddie’s color pallette? well i did! here’s the new one. (i also redid his wings to make them a bit more like an actual moth!! while he’s technically just moth-like, it bothered me that his wings didnt look very much like that of a moth)
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ADDITIONALLY i believe i also mentioned that id post about more mw ocs eventually. i made more, and ill show them to u guys right now.
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so this image is a quick doodle all four of the ocs i made!! obviously you guys have already seen eddie, but i still have yet to completely finish making refs of ALL of them. i did, however, have the time to make one of vivian:
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and before i go here is another doodle page of a few varied expressions. theyre all doing something with their eyebrows did u notice that
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and ill explain some lore about them that ive since why the hell not? (btw this may be subject to change as i come up with more ideas, as all oc shit is, but ESPECIALLY with these ocs because i came up with them VERY RECENTLY. like TODAY recently)
they have their own merc company (the name of which i am still trying to come up with) and so yeah. technically speaking, scorch and vivian own the company, though jazz and eddie are technically part of it. jazz helps out with general stuff and eddie does all the kinda boring, financing things (because he likes doing math).
IF ANYONE HAS QUESTIONS ABOUT ANY OF THEM FEEL FREE TO ASK ME!!! I LOVE ANSWERING QUESTIONS ABOUT MY OCS :^)
anyway with that said TY FOR READING GOODNIGHT :^D
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wanderlust-in-my-soul · 1 year ago
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5 Songs Tag - QL Shows Edition
tagged by @pose4photoml @morkofday and @leonpob. Thank you so much for the tag! 🧡 I love tag games and music, so this is perfect 😊
When you get this, list 5 songs from the Asian QL media that you actually listen to.
🎶They do not have to be custom-made for the series. 🎶Non-western tracks only. Let's support Asian music and languages! 🎶Feel free to tag anyone who may be interested in participating. 🎶Add #5qls tag to your post for others to find the new favourites!
This is really hard for me! There are so many beautiful OSTs and all are different and special to me 😭 So I am going to go with five favorites from different countries.
I. Korea: Rainbow by Coldin | OST from Love Tractor
I love the series and this song just gives me such a good feeling. The music just fits the series so beautifully. It is light and on the other hand a little bit melancholic. It is about a new love and allowing to be loved and love again and to walk this life together. I love it so much! And yes, he is sang Romatic Devil from the Semantic Error OST 😊 Just another great song!
II. Phillipines: Ride Home by Ben&Ben | OST from Like in the Movies
I know, this song is in englisch, but by a Filipino Band. This song and the scene when it played in the series...just AAAHHHHHH!!!!! I love it so so much! It is so perfect! And when you want to hear more of this great folk-pop band, I can really recommend Leaves or Araw-Araw. They have some really good songs. And if you haven't watched Like in the movies (Gaya Sa Pelikula), you really missed something. Such a good show!
III. China: Wu Ji by Xiao Zhan and Wang Yibo | OST from The Untamed
Bold of anyone to think I wouldn't list this song! I mean, it is from the OST of my favorite series ever, sung by the main actors and I just love it SO much! But, to be fair, I would have taken something from Stay With Me, but the OST isn't out yet and I haven't found the song I love so much on Spotify. But this song right here it transports so many emotions for me. Such an epic song! I remember I heard the song before I have watched the series and was just blown away. After that I started the series and yeah, the rest is history. I fell in love with them and the whole story. I have the novels, but not the time to read them yet. I guess I find some time during my upcoming vacation.
IV. Thailand: REDO (ย้อนเวลา) by Krist Perawat | OST from Be My Favorite
The series has taken over my heart and so had this song. And I like his voice, singing or talking. And this song just speaks to my heart. It has a light tone, but the meaning is quite deep, just as the series itself. And I am in love. I guess there are just a few people out there, who don't want to change something in the past, undo some mistakes, make a different choice. Of course it is not possible, but it can be a reminder to just live the best life you can, so you won't regret your choices in the future. Oh man, I am so in love with this series!
V. Japan: 遠い国 by 上野大樹 | OST from Our Dining Table
You know the feeling when you watch something and there is this song and you can't think about anything else until you found the song and you can finally breathe again and just listen to this wonderful music? Yeah, that happend to me with this song. I don't know why, but I really want to cry when I listen to it, because it is so beautiful.
Because my five are full, I give an honorable mention to Twins by Julia Peng. It is from the OST of the taiwanese mini-series Innocent.
Oh, there are so many more good songs from these shows which I love so much and couldn't fit in here 😭
I really don't know who already participated in this, I know it is quite popular right now, but I just tag some people 😊 As always no obligations, just a little Hi, I thought about you 🧡
@rocketturtle4 @gunsatthaphan @maxescheibechlinichacheli @jyuubin @negrowhat @pharawee @forcebook @lurkingshan
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stellewriites · 7 months ago
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twenty questions for fic writers 🫡
thanks for the tag @syoddeye!
1. how many works do you have on ao3?
50
2. what's your total ao3 word count?
699,806
3. what fandoms do you write for?
oh god, ongoing or previous too?? uhm currently batfam, star wars, cod, st - but i’ve had a few extra that i used to write for too
4. top five fics by kudos
i’m not linking them all bc some are,,,, far from my best work. also can u tell i love a long lyric title?
if you can’t give me all, give me nothing ; memorise the way you make me feel ; the way you move like you do ; i’m addicted to the way i feel when i think of you ; took the words right out of my mouth
5. do you respond to comments?
literally every single one,, before getting this account back a few months ago it was the only way i interacted w people in the fandoms so 🤷‍♀️ sometimes it might take a week tho but i try to be quick
6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
i don’t tend to do angst endings? like even in darker angsty fics i usually twist it so it’s like dubcon happy at the end 🥴🥴 sooo maybe either no grave can hold my body down or can i steal a kiss or two? or even choices made in anger
7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
liiiiiterally any other fic i’ve ever written lmao
8. do you get hate on fics?
not often? BUT i usually do fluff fics and when i started dabbling in darker stuff that’s when i got more hate - specifically on one fic in particular
9. do you write smut?
yeah! not all the time but maybe 65%
10. craziest crossover:
i dont really do crossovers but my last mando fic was inspired by justified if that counts?
11. have you ever had a fic stolen?
not that i know of,, again im not very online to be able to know :/
12. have you ever had a fic translated?
yeah! just one but now i dont do it,, learning curve for me
13. have you ever co-written a fic before?
almost when i was first starting out writing 6 years back but it fell through - katy if ur still out there i hope ur enjoying life <3
14. all time favorite ship?
ffffuckkkkkk i don’t think i can choose bc i dip in and out so often but i do tend to always come back to jaytim? they’re my for lifers i think but soap x reader is a close second atm
15. what's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
i’ll always finish my wips bc i can’t stand to see them unfinished,, but it’s been like three years since i first said i was going to write my sci-fi dystopian jaytim fic and im still not past the first paragraph :/
16. what are your writing strengths?
i think i’m good at dialogue and catching accents and nailing personalities pretty quick,,
17. what are your writing weaknesses?
i’m so fucking slow. if nothing else, watching people write for cod on here has shown me how quick everyone else seems to be able to write :’)
and also with longer fics i’ve gotten into the (bad) habit of leaving out like integral details that i assume the reader will just know bc ive been too in my own head about it all and ive forgotten what i’ve established already; leads to decisions looking like they’ve come out of nowhere or random personality changes
18. thoughts on dialogue in another language?
i’ve attempted it but i have to google translate it so i try to keep it to a minimum and ask for correction in the comments. sometimes i do it italicised but written in english so readers can understand that it’s meant to be another language but dont have to skip to the bottom notes or another tab to understand what’s being said
19. first fandom you wrote in?
teen wolf 🥴
20. favorite fic you've written?
idk if i’ve got a favourite,, in hindsight a lot of the ones i think about most fondly are the ones that absolutely killed me off when writing so i’ve got real rose tinted glasses about them all. however these are few that should get honourable mentions just because i like them and they didn’t pop up earlier
whew this was long i think i yapped ontoo much lmao but it was so fun!!
no pressure tags: @glossysoap @mikichko @kyletogaz @femalefemur @sentientcave @gemmahale @madstronaut and anyone else who wants to give it a go!!
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quietwingsinthesky · 2 years ago
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for the fic writer asks!!
5, 9, 13, 15, 29?
hi hi aayo!!
[questions were here]
5. So, a while back, I was spitballing with my friends about Pokemon Black/White & the sequel, because I love those games, those are my childhood Pokemon games, and the story is so close to brilliant I can taste it. It would just need a little touching up, I swear, adjust a motivation here, add some more scenes there... But see the thing is, doing that would take. A While. and I just don't think I have the patience to do a full rewrite of a Pokemon game from 2010 so it'll probably remain an idea.
9. Yes! I do! I try to do a few hundred words a day, every day. Depending on how bad my depression is, I can be pretty consistent about it and get a lot done. And I did manage to do a little today for that nsfw lucifer/raphael fic I'm working on! Let's see here. Ahem. "Waiting, a front of perfect obedience betrayed by how hard he’s clenching his hands together behind his back to keep from touching himself." :) I am. doing things. to luci.
13. It depends on the fic. Some of them, I want to say Last Call and could have been anyone, anyone are good examples, start writing themselves in my head with absolutely no warning, and I have to jump to the nearest thing to jot down the sentences before they disappear forever. Others, like Honey, Don't Feed It, have literally been turned over in my brain for more than a year, twisted and changed until I've gotten a fic I actually like out of it.
15. Sometimes it's a song title, sometimes it's a line from the fic, sometimes it's 'it is 4am when im posting it and ive already typed up the fucking tags and the summary and i am so so tired whats the closest noun i can think of' and then i slap it on there and call it a day.
29. asjklajdksld my first thought was 'oh you know what fine i'll post what i had of that samifer fic before it gets deleted but uh It Is Literally Entirely Porn. so lets. lets go with something a little more PG, yeah? Not exactly polite of me to throw smut at you without asking.
So instead, have this bit from the original draft of my next Sarah/Lucifer/Nick fic that got cut because I switched the pov character from Sarah to Nick for. Reasons.
Sarah has had a lot more time to paint in the last few months. Enough that muscle memory she thought lost has slowly reappeared, making her hand steadier. Her art hasn’t become more neat as a result, but it has grown purpose in its mess. Her mother always wished she’d take after her grandmother and paint lush green forests and pretty meadows, but Sarah’s brushes led her down a different path. Intricate strokes litter the paper, testing to see how close she can bring the painting to the being curled around her spine before it devolves into a jumbled mess. Lucifer is not an easy muse. Sarah hasn’t managed to paint a piece that does her justice yet.
This one is barely recognizable as anything, more abstract than Sarah’s committed to in a long time. A lot of her paintings of Lucifer start somewhere she understands, with Nick’s face or her own, fragmented to better show the angel that lives inside them, openings in the skin like bloodless wounds through which eyes and feathers and teeth peek through. Someone else might find them terrifying. Nick thinks her paintings of Lucifer are beautiful. Lucifer, of course, is flattered and amused. She watches Sarah paint, enthralled the same way Nick mentioned her being the day he built Teddy’s crib. She hasn’t asked for a turn at the brushes yet, but Sarah hopes she does one day, if only so they can see what she’s capable of creating.
Sarah stretches. There’s no satisfying pop to her spine as she uncurls from her art, but in exchange, there’s also no lingering soreness from staying in one position for too long. Lucifer’s grace pulses, buried somewhere deep, utterly content. Sarah shuts her eyes as though she could listen to her.
Instead, Sarah hears a cry from the other room. She lets her head tilt towards the clock on the wall. It’s been a while since she put Teddy down for a nap. Lucifer is on alert the moment the sound hits Sarah’s ears. She’s still not used to the simple fact that sometimes, babies cry, and it doesn’t mean the world is about to end. Impossible to fathom wings flex under Sarah’s skin. Sarah suppresses a chuckle into a small smile and sets her paintbrush down. It rolls to join its brethren of various sizes, the only commonality between them all the teethmarks at the tip where Sarah chewed when she got frustrated or distracted. Lucifer’s wings flap, a wave of power rolling through Sarah’s body that’s asking one question, whether they can fly to the nursery rather than take the minute long walk there. Sarah lets her consent echo back through Lucifer, bracing herself.
Flight is a cacophony. Flight is like learning what it is to be a photon and forgetting again as her body hits the ground, human toes curling against the fuzz of the nursery carpet. Lucifer recovers like they’ve taken a brisk walk up the stairs. Sarah needs a minute more, as though she’s been thrown under the waves at the beach and needs to figure out which direction is up in order to stand. In his crib, Teddy turns his head to look at them, brown eyes seeking his mother, and when he knows she’s there to hear him, he scrunches up his face and starts crying again.
It’s Lucifer that takes them the first few steps to the crib, but Sarah who reaches down and picks Teddy up.
“Hey, hey, fussy,” she says softly to him, “shh, we’re here now.” Teddy cries out one more time, like he’s making sure she’s not going to put him down and leave once he’s quiet. Sarah rocks him.
“We’re here,” comes another voice from her mouth, still hesitant but less than it has been in a few months. Lucifer raises Sarah’s hand to pet a line down Teddy’s forehead. There’s no more than the ambient hum of her grace beneath Sarah’s skin, but between being held by his mother and watched over by his guardian devil, (Sarah’s mouth curls at the thought, and she can’t tell if it’s her or Lucifer reacting.) he quiets. He keeps frowning, scrunched up eyes and a wrinkled forehead. “Hello, Theodore,” Lucifer says, and it’s at Sarah’s prodding that she finally says, “Teddy.”
He’s a baby, Sarah teases, no need to be so formal.
Names mean something, comes the quick counter.
And this one means you love him. Lucifer hums, finger still drifting in absent circles over Teddy’s face. Teddy latches onto it when it’s near his mouth, and Lucifer freezes. Sarah laughs, and with control of her body falling back to her, it comes out without a care in the world. Teddy makes a frustrated noise when she pulls her finger away.
“That’s better than you needing a diaper change,” Sarah tells him. Teddy babbles at her, sounds that are beginning to have more distinct shapes but mean nothing at all. She’s going to have to put him back down to undo her button-up, or would have to, only Lucifer proves for the hundredth time how much easier parenting is with divine power backing them up. Sarah shifts Teddy around in her arms, enduring the tiny beat of an impatient hand against her chest, until she has him comfortably settled to feed.
He seems so small in her arms. He’s growing fast and will continue to for years and years, a prospect both terrifying and exciting.
It’s a short enough walk to her and Nick’s bedroom from the nursery, and she’s careful not to jostle Teddy while he nurses. There, she can settle down comfortably against the pillows, the blankets tucking themselves up around her legs despite her not reaching for them. It doesn’t do much against the ever-present chill, but Sarah doesn’t want that to go away. Besides, they bundle Teddy up warmly enough.
She does wonder sometimes what it’ll be like as he gets older. If his first words will be ‘dada’ or ‘mama’ or something else entirely, a string of syllables that seem like gibberish to her and Nick but mimic the language that Lucifer sometimes speaks to him off-handedly, the one that makes Sarah’s ears feel like they might pop from pressure if she listens for too long, the one that Teddy reacts to with kicking feet and responsive babbling. If one day Sarah will get teachers telling her about Teddy’s imaginary angelic friend who raised him, both those impressed that he could come up with something so elaborate and those worried that the angel in question is Lucifer herself. Maybe the funniest thing Sarah can imagine is if Nick ever takes little Teddy to church and what kind of menace they might unleash with a child who loves the devil like a mother. That, if it ever happens, is a long ways off, and until then, Lucifer is still the secret held between the three of them.
“You think he’ll still like me,” Lucifer says, dipping her hand into the stream of Sarah’s thoughts, welcomed but nibbled at by the fish that think she really should have asked permission first. Maybe a little hypocritical when Sarah has already let her in, “when he grows up.”
There is, always, this expectation of rejection that lingers in Lucifer’s words. A surprise when she finds connection instead that breaks Sarah’s heart.
“You look after him. You sing to him. You feed him.” Sarah looks down at Teddy, who takes his fill and rests his tiny fist against her skin. This caretaking is a communal effort, after all. “Of course he’ll love you.”
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arrianna21 · 2 years ago
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~To Hell and Back~ Chapter X (M)
Never make a deal with the devil.  Easier said than done. Enter the world of demons where things are not what they seem.  Friend or foe, nobody knows. When mysterious and strange incidents come out of the darkness, will you be able to escape the depths of Hell alive and at what price?  
Rated M for Mature: This series will contain gore, mutilation, strong language, depictions of death, intense violence, sexual content, themes of horror, mention of miscarriage, medical procedures, minor character death
Please ensure you’re in a good headspace or avoid reading if the tags above make you uncomfortable. Specific tags that are italicized occur within the chapter. Viewer discretion is advised.  
demon!v x fem!reader
Word Count: 10,424
I | | II | | III | | IV | | V | | VI | | VII | | VIII | | IX | | X | |
As you sit in the lone chair, you watch Lhaine continue mopping the floor of the vacant ballroom while you can only quietly look around. It’s been about a week or so since Hallow’s Evening where you were ultimately shot. You find yourself glancing up at the balcony, at each pillar lined up near the walls, even at the dark plum curtains covering the windows. Anyplace where someone can possibly hide or stay out of sight. Despite all the people there, the assassin had a clean shot to the prince had you not interfered.
A loud clang echoes in the wide room, startling you from your pensive thoughts, and you see Lhaine setting her mop against the wall so she can pick up the set of fallen music stands. You get to your feet and don’t even take a step before she points a finger at you without bothering to look. “Don’t even think about it, I got it,” she says.
“I can at least help some with the mopping,” you insist. “This room is huge.”
She finishes resetting the row of music stands and resumes mopping. “It won’t take me much longer. Besides, you already helped me clean the restroom despite being given strict orders not to overexert yourself.”
“Yeah, but our bathrooms are small. And no one would even know, it’ll be just between the two of us.”
“Then you seriously underestimate our boss who’s probably tuning in on us now,” Lhaine scoffs.
“I’ll just use my good arm again.”
She continues dragging the mop across the floor, the marble glistening from the water. “As much as I appreciate your assistance, I don’t need to get reprimanded for when you inadvertently pull a muscle from straining your good arm.”
“Come on, you even side-eyed me when I was folding laundry. Can’t you give me one of your simpler tasks?” You pout from your spot in the chair.
“But I’m looking forward to dusting the paintings,” she mockingly pouts back.
“Please, Lhaine?” You plead in return. “Something, anything at this point.”
“Well I guess you could go feed your friend Zelda. Make sure the horses have their meal, and seriously, I was joking,” she shouts, but you’re already heading to the door. “If she bites you, I’m screwed!”
“I’ll be careful,” you reassure before rushing out the door in case she tries chasing you down. 
Outside, you make your way to the stables and gather the rotten fruit and vegetables into a bucket where you carry it towards the horses. They eat them quickly, teeth chomping the dead, mushy carrots and apples.  
Zelda is the last one at the end and you cautiously approach her, the zombie horse already standing and waiting for her food. You grab the soft carrot, tentatively holding it out to her. She moves slow in return, easing her head forward before biting into it. The bones of her jaw creaks as she chews. This continues while you feed her a few more. When she finishes, she takes a step back and bends her head in a downward motion.
You stare at her in return before dipping your head in a bow as well. “You’re welcome,” you murmur, surprised by the shift in her demeanor compared to the other times when she seemed more hostile.
She snorts and turns, retreating towards the pile of stiff red hay in the corner of her stall. “It seems she’s taken a liking to you,” you hear from the entrance.
You jump and turn towards the voice, ready to chunk the bucket in a poor attempt of self-defense only to find the prince standing by the wooden stable doors. He wears a silver cloak with the hood down and you catch a glimpse of his sword at his hip. “V,” you loudly say his name. “Here to visit the horses?”
He smiles as he approaches. “Actually I’m here to take Zelda out for some fresh air.”
“Oh. Is it safe for you to go out after what happened?” You quietly ask, not wanting to actually speak the words “attempted assassination”. From behind Zelda has snuck closer to you before giving you a strong nudge, her head pushing against your back and you’re flung forward as you stumble while V rushes to catch you. You latch onto his biceps to balance yourself while his hands steady you by holding onto your waist.
Your eyes meet as you stare at one another, lost in a myriad of thoughts without saying a word.  He breaks the spell first as he merely shrugs, breaking out into a mischievous smirk. “Technically no, but this cloak prevents me from being recognized or identified. And no one knows I’m going out except for you. Also, did I not give strict orders for you to not do any difficult tasks?” He asks, raising a brow at you.
“Feeding the horses doesn’t require a lot of exertion. Besides, Lhaine has made sure I barely do anything at all even though I’m feeling much better,” you reassure. With Kala’s exercises and plenty of forced rest, your shoulder doesn’t constantly ache or throb as much anymore.
“Good, now let’s not push yourself too hard, yes?”
Knowing both him and Lhaine only mean well for you, you can’t quite keep from rolling your eyes in return. “Of course, Your Highness,” you answer. There’s a brief pause and you suddenly remember that you’re still in his embrace. “I hope you enjoy your outing.”
“Thank you, little dove.” His smile widens, genuine happiness seeping into the playful expression. When you go to step back, his arms slowly slide away until they fall to his sides, his smile faltering briefly but doesn’t disappear. He eyes you for another moment, hidden emotions you can’t quite identify flickering from within before he turns his attention to Zelda as he gets her saddle ready. “Behave,” V tells you from atop her back as they pass by while she walks towards the stable entrance.
“Yes, sir,” you joke, bending to do a small curtsy for him in return which causes him to let out a chuckle.
He pulls the hood up until it covers his head before urging Zelda into a trot as they disappear from sight.
                                                               ~*~
The next morning as you head towards the kitchen for breakfast, you’re surprised to find energy buzzing throughout the castle. The other servants move quickly through the halls, rushing to their tasks as they whisper to each other. Even as you pass the guards stationed at their posts, you hear them mutter to one another and you catch a few words here and there about some politician.
Inside the kitchen, you don’t see Chef anywhere but there’s pots and pans cooking on the stove. Instead you find the Faegel huddled together eating their breakfast while they speak quietly amongst themselves. “And he was here for lunch not too long ago. My friend who lives in that realm wonders if it’s a possible coup,” Rae tells them, her eyes wide.
Mel rolls her eyes in annoyance. “Imbecile. If it were a coup, said leaders would’ve clearly taken credit for his death. No one has claimed any whatsoever. This is something else.”
“Whatever it is, it’s put the rest of the Senate on edge,” Bren responds.
“Do you think it’s another assassination like the one—ow!” As Rae speaks she’s cut off by Mel harshly pinching her arm as she jerks her head toward you.
All three immediately grow quiet, cleaning up their food before going to leave the room. “Too bad you weren’t there human,” Mel says as they pass by, “maybe you could’ve rescued him as well,” she notes with an acidic smirk. Neither Bren nor Rae say a word, instead quietly exiting as they walk beside Mel.
With a shake of your head, you fetch your own breakfast and begin eating as Lhaine comes in to join you. “So is it true a senator is dead?” You ask while she rifles for a few slices of bread.
Taking a bite, she sits down on the stool beside you. “Damn, you already heard too?” She asks around the food in her mouth as she chews. “Then it must true. I thought it was just a rumor or people exaggerating.”
“Apparently not. And nobody seems to know who could’ve done it.”
“Yeah, because it shouldn’t be possible,” she snorts.
Her statement confuses you as your brows draw together. “What do you mean? Wait,” you pause, “he had already ascended, hadn’t he?”
She nods. “Mmhmm. Which means someone has done the impossible,” she confirms.
Her words click in your head as you understand the true severity of the situation. “So, surely they’ll look into who did this and find them before they kill someone else.” Surely it can’t be a coincidence that someone tried to murder the prince right before a senator who was essentially immortal is now dead. Unless this is merely the common joys of demonic politics in Hell, rules be damned.
Lhaine shrugs as she drinks her water. “Hopefully. We don’t exactly have law enforcement down here. Murder is pretty much fair game, but if an ascended truly is dead then the playing field’s gotten a bit more leveled. No doubt the rest of the senators are losing their shit right now.” She snorts into her cup. “Wouldn’t mind seeing that,” you hear her mutter.
A thought occurs to you. “Isn’t RM also a part of the senate?”
“Yeah,” she nods, “but he’s exceptionally intelligent and more than capable of holding his own. Even if he wasn’t, he’s got Jeon who can easily annihilate enemies no problem.”
Chef returns at that moment and points to you. “Take the tea to Mr. Min and the other guests. They’re up in the library,” she orders, removing a kettle from the stove while she opens a cabinet which has a tea set inside. “Use this.”
You gently take out the porcelain tea set, pouring the crimson tea from the kettle and into the tea pot. The pretty set is white and decorated with little purple flowers that are painted on the outside. “I got it,” you quickly reassure Lhaine who eyes you dubiously. “Most of the weight is on my good arm.” While it’s both awkward and terrifying having to balance such delicate items using mostly one arm, you use the other to hold it in place, ensuring it won’t abruptly tip over.
“See you,” Lhaine calls after you, obvious skepticism and disapproval evident in her face as she watches you leave.
Carrying the tea set, you’re careful to keep the tray steady with your one arm while you open the door to the library. As you enter you find most of V’s friends inside. While Jay and Suga occupy one of the couches, Jin sits in one of the chairs by the table, an ornate mirror held in his hand. He admires his reflection, fixing a strand of black hair while the duo murmur softly to each other. Off to the side at another chair sits Min, seemingly staring off into space, either concentrating on his visions or listening into their conversation.
Min turns his head, facing your direction as you approach. “Thank you, Ms. Y/N,” he says as you set the porcelain tray down.
“You’re welcome,” you reply, setting each cup onto a saucer before reaching for the teapot as you slowly pour the steaming liquid. Jay, Suga, and Min each take their own while Jin leaves his, attention still focused on inspecting his face.
Arranging the remaining cups, you hesitate, wondering if you should prepare the tea for the others but Min addresses your unspoken question. “You can leave the rest and we’ll pour it once they arrive. That way it’ll be fresh,” he answers with a smile.
“Of course. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“No, we’re fine at the moment. How’s your shoulder?” He inquires.
“Better, thank you,” you tell him. There’s still soreness in your muscles when you move a certain way but otherwise it’s slowly improving.
“This is a tragedy,” Jin suddenly moans, everyone’s attention turning towards his abrupt exclamation.
“I wouldn’t call it a tragedy. Unfortunate, sure, but Cellhád was always trying to pass distasteful rules that would upset the balance,” Suga says.
Jin rolls his eyes. “I wasn’t talking about him,” he scoffs with a shake of his head. “I’m talking about the fact that I have a scar.” He points to his upper cheekbone where you can just barely see a crack in his skin, as though it’s about to break off.
Min’s forehead creases at that. “Strange. You’ve just recently shattered so you shouldn’t be losing pieces so soon.”
“Were you playing a little too rough on Hallow’s Evening, old man?” Suga chuckles, earning a glare from Jin in return.
“Tch, ridiculous,” is all he mutters.
“Maybe it’s because you’re still missing a piece of yourself,” Jay wonders, indicating to the fourth finger still absent from his hand. “It’s not like you to lose yourself, literally.”
“No, it’s not that. I’ve went a couple of weeks without a finger before I eventually found it. I just hope it’s nothing to do with my curse progressing or growing stronger,” Jin sighs, fingertips grazing along his skin just below the crack.
“Could there be a medicine or potion that can fix it?” You find yourself asking, drawing their attention to you and you flinch in return. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
Min is the one that answers you. “No need to apologize, it’s an honest question. I’m sure you’re thinking of the healing salve that can fix minor cuts and scratches, yes?”
“Yeah, I think so. Miss had given me some the day I came here,” you say, remembering when you hit your head on Loom’s cart all those weeks ago in the Crooked Forest. It feels like a lifetime ago.
“Unfortunately, it wouldn’t do Jin any good because he’s not technically injured. It’s just a part of his curse so he can’t be healed,” Min explains.
“That’s an interesting thought though if we could just glue him back together,” Jay muses, thumb rubbing along his chin. He’s met with a scowl from Jin who seethes in his seat. “Sorry, sorry,” he’s quick to apologize, raising his hands in surrender. “I was just joking, honest.”
“You know this might be a sign that you’ll have to be proactive again in trying to break your curse, right?” Suga pipes in from beside Jay, his gaze fixated on the white butterfly with orange tipped wings that’s perched on the back of his hand.
The anger dissipates from Jin leaving only resignation in its wake as he sighs. “Yes, I was afraid of that.” He shakes his head as though ridding himself of his internal thoughts. “I’ll manage in the meantime. Besides we have more pressing matters at the moment.”
You take that as your queue to leave, realizing all too late that you’ve just been standing there listening in on their conversation. Bowing, you silently excuse yourself and make your way to the library entrance, hearing the discussion shift to the dead senator.
Only the topic switches briefly as Jay asks, “Is that why V’s been studying portals and whatnot?” His voice low, but enough for you to still hear even as you approach the door.
“Will you hush?” Min responds with a quiet snort.
It’s not hard to assume that they’re referring to you. Is that why V has been visiting the library more often?
“Hello, Ms. Y/N,” you hear and turn to find RM standing behind you at the entrance. Jeon stands just behind him, holding the door open for him. “It’s good to see you.”
“Nice to see you both too, sir,” you answer in return.
“How’s recovery been?”
“Going well, thank you. Kala has recommended some great exercises that are really helpful,” you say.
He nods with a smile, revealing two dimples on either cheek and a pair of fangs that peek out. “Yes, she’s a wonderful lady,” he agrees. “Very adept in her studies and work. Please give my regards next time you see her.” Stepping around you, he makes his way to the others with Jeon right at his heels and you softly call the younger boy’s name.
The vampire immediately freezes, gaze fixated straight ahead before he turns his head, crimson eyes meeting your own. He doesn’t say a word, merely staring at you in return.
“I just wanted to say thank you for the drawings. They’ve been really helpful,” you tell him.
Jeon gives a tentative nod, his throat bobbing as he swallows. “You’re welcome,” he quietly murmurs, voice low but also soft, much to your surprise. “Glad you’re feeling better.” And then he quickly walks away, following after RM who’s already seated in one of the lounge chairs, taking his position standing at the bookshelf just behind the group.
                                                               ~*~
Rough stone grazes against your skin as you slowly wake. Taking in your surroundings, you stare out into the pitch black space, and left to feel along the ground until you can stand upright. You hold your palm against the nearest wall of what feels like a cave, using it as a guide to lead you toward what you’re hoping is an exit. As you peer out into the darkness, you catch a glimpse of a faint blue light. It glows in the distance, so you focus on that while continuing to feel along the coarse granite with your hand.
Once you’re close enough, you find the light to be the glow of a lantern hanging from the ceiling. The cobalt flame flickers within the glass that houses it and when peering further ahead, there’s another one down the corridor. You continue towards the next one, losing your sight in the darkness of the cave in between each lantern. As you approach, there’s movement from the shadows and the sound of scrabbling echoes, causing you to flinch.
Moving slowly, you make out the outline of a figure that’s huddled just beyond the reach of the fire’s light. You swallow, voice unable to emerge from your throat besides a thin, whispery, “Hello?” Your muscles tense in preparation, body ready for flight or fight depending on how the person reacts.
But they don’t suddenly attack or scream, or even flinch in response either. Instead, they lift their head before turning to face in your direction. Familiar eyes, glazed with exhaustion, peek out from beneath their hair.
“Faith?”
The quiet call of her name causes your sister to squint as she stares up at you. Recognition is slow to seep in before she answers with your name, the word slow and unsure.
“Yeah, it’s me,” you confirm, resisting the urge to drop down on your knees beside her and hug her tightly. You haven’t seen or spoke to her since the night you nearly died, and while she seemed more coherent then, you’re not sure about the current state she’s in now. It could all be a ploy for her to get you close so she can attack you like all the other times.
Her facial expression lingers between confusion and realization. “You’re alive?”
“I am.”
“You’re alive,” she repeats, before understanding finally dawns. “You’re alive!” She pushes herself to her feet, standing upright so she can look at you directly. “Are you okay?” Her hands grasp your face, bony fingers pressing against your skin and you involuntarily flinch, expecting sharp nails to suddenly pierce through flesh.
“I’m fine,” you tell her while she inspects your face.
“Strange, I didn’t even recognize you. You look different,” she notes, gently pushing you backwards until you’re both standing beneath the glow of the lantern. With the light shining down, it illuminates your figures, including the prominent black in your veins that matches her own. “That’s right, they poisoned you too.”
Now you’re confused as you give her a quizzical look. “Wait, what are you talking about?”
She stares deep into your eyes, seeming to be searching for something. “The darkness inside you. It’s slowly draining you, feasting on your soul, and you won’t be able to fight it off for long.”
Darkness is feasting on your soul? Since when? How coherent is your sister actually? Rather than outright question her and risk possibly angering her, you opt to simply go along with it. “Yeah, you said that once right before trying to kill me,” you note.
A wave of concern sweeps across her features and she pauses, biting at her lip. “I did? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. Things have been fuzzy lately.” She lets out an unsteady breath, her hands shaking against you.
Carefully, you reach up and grab onto her shoulders, internally shuddering at the feel of bone jutting through her skin. “It’s okay, you’re not yourself right now. But everything’ll be fine soon. I’m going to find you a cure so you won’t be sick anymore,” you’re quick to reassure her while she anxiously glances around the space before refocusing on you.
“Wait, how are you going to do that? You can’t help both me and yourself.”
“Why not?”
Your sister winces before shaking her head. “Because they won’t let you. Once they’ve latched on, they won’t let go, not that easily. If you can get rid of the poison from yourself first, then you’ll be able to help me. But I’m glad my memory was useful,” she notes, a relieved smile forming on her lips.
“What memory?”
She blinks. “The one where we played hide and seek outside, silly,” she chuckles.
It takes you a minute as you wrack your brain before remembering the dream of you both playing in the forest as kids until the nightmare transformed it into a terrifying, haunted place. “That was you showing me that? But why? We were just playing around to pass the time.”
“Because that’s where it all began. Don’t you remember what happened in the woods?” She stares at you, worry filling her eyes. “Wait, where are you going?”
You blink and suddenly find yourself further away from her, all the way at another lantern. Glancing around you see you’re at a crossroads with multiple pathways. Each one has a blue lantern except for the one to your left. Instead it’s actually a soft purple.
“I don’t know how but I think I found a way out,” you tell her just as she catches up. You point to the light which causes her brows to furrow together. “Have you seen this before?”
“No, I haven’t. Weird.”
Taking her hand you begin heading down the tunnel, straight towards the odd flame. As you approach, you look further down the dark tunnel for the next lantern. There’s yet another one where the fire is glowing even brighter. You make your way towards it and see it’s now become a burning red.
“Ever seen a red lantern before?” You ask, staring up at it.
“What are you talking about?” She asks, looking at the lantern as well. “That’s blue.”
“Pretty sure I know my colors, sis,” you jokingly remark, voice light as you try to quell the uneasiness. “Okay, what about that one?” You point to the next one further down which is red as well.
“That’s blue too.”
“Why am I seeing red then?” You wonder, continuing towards the flame.
“I don’t know, but maybe we should head back—seriously?” You hear her sigh from behind as you continue heading for the strange lantern. “We don’t even know where we are.”
As you stand below the hanging light, you feel the texture of the floor change and you glance down to feel smooth purple carpet beneath your feet. Looking back up, you stare off into the distance, searching for the next light. Except it’s not a lantern nor is it attached to the ceiling but rather to the sides of the wall. And there’s multiple lamps all in a row emitting a familiar soft red glow.
Since when did the castle have a passageway leading to a dark cave, specifically in the northeast wing?
“We’re back in the castle,” you breathe, glancing around the space behind the thrones.
“What are you talking about? This isn’t a castle,” your sister says. You turn and see her giving you a concerned look.
“I know this place, it’s where I’ve been staying. Come on, I can take you back to my room,” you insist, but she stops you with a shake of her head.
“Y/N, seriously, a castle with red lights? It may be an improvement from this gloomy cave but there’s nothing here,” she answers.
She means it too, her eyes gazing at you with sympathy and it makes your stomach twist into knots. “You can’t see any of it? Not the trio of thrones or winding staircases on either side of us. Not even the red lights. Nothing?” The last word is a helpless plea, urging her the ability to see what you mean. Instead, she tells you something but no sound comes out. “What?”
“Y/N,” you hear the word slowly register within the quiet space as she gingerly grasps onto your wrist. “Are you alright, Ms. Y/N?”
The formal address of your name has you suddenly drawing a sharp breath, dizziness causing your head to spin as you rapidly blink in the dimly lit area. When you look towards your sister, she’s gone. Instead you find Hiss floating in the place where she once stood. Looking down, you see the black tendrils of her hair looped around your arm.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened,” you mumble, mind still hazy as you shake off the remnants of sleep.
Hiss hovers before you, red eyes staring with an intensity that sends a shiver up your neck. “Where were you headed?” She asks, voice bright and airy, yet there’s a hint of an accusatory tone underneath the cheerfulness.
“I don’t actually know.” You keep searching the area for a glimpse of your sister or even a glowing blue lantern. But there’s none of that, just the stairwell and the rest of the rooms.
“Do you always go wandering the castle this late at night?”
“No, not really. I have trouble sleeping sometimes,” you say, shifting uncomfortably when you feel the tendrils of her hair just barely tighten their hold on your wrist.
Hiss nods in understanding, the dark strands tethered to you moving along with her. “Hmm. I haven’t seen you up until now. Where do usually go?”
“Normally I just go to the kitchen for a drink and then back to bed,” you helplessly shrug, body stiffening as the seconds pass.
“And you don’t go anywhere else?”
You wordlessly shake your head in response.
She keeps staring back at you and the fact that she has no pupils, just full red eyes, builds tension that seems to fill the space. “You know things were normal around here, boring almost, until you suddenly showed up. Why is that?” Though she’s expecting an honest answer, there’s that accusatory undertone, one that’s laced with bitterness.
“You’re not the first to say something along those lines,” you answer humorlessly, remembering how Kala had mentioned something similar after you had been shot. Except she wasn’t distrustful of you nor had she blamed you for these series of strange and unfortunate events.
“Maybe your presence disrupted the balance. Certainly the natural order of things,” she notes harshly.
Her brewing anger has you wincing, shrinking beneath her searing gaze. “I’m sorry about Thia.” It’s the only thing you can think to say.
“Yeah, me too.” Even if she’s resentful, her words are filled with a resigned defeat as though she’s aged greatly and is left permanently exhausted.
“Hiss? What’re you doing?” Another voice asks as Cara floats forward as she comes around from the front of the thrones. “Oh, Y/N, I didn’t see you there,” she says upon taking notice of you. “Couldn’t sleep again?”
“Again? She does this often?” Hiss questions, her eyes boring incredulously at her sister who nods in confirmation.
“Yes, sometimes we sit and talk in the kitchen.”
“And you didn’t think this was crucial information to share with the King during that damned interrogation?” Hiss’s voice rising as her grip tightens even more around your wrist, causing you to grimace when your bones squeeze from the pressure.
“No, because she’s not the assassin and her nightly walks have nothing to do with what happened. Now let her go, Hiss. You’re hurting her,” she calmly suggests though Cara’s ruby eyes harden in contrast.
“So what? A little discomfort is nothing compared to what Thia felt that day,” Hiss spits.
Even if it’s not intended, her words do the expected damage as Cara visibly flinches, her face tormented by the painful reminder of the fresh wounds that have only just begun healing. “Hiss, that was cruel and completely uncalled for!” Cara shouts in return, aghast at her strong words and attitude.
“What is the meaning of this commotion?” Bell harshly whispers, her head appearing from the second floor as she descends down to where you all are. “Everyone is asleep and you’re having a spat in the middle of the main hall?”
Hiss is the first to respond. “I found her wandering the halls,” she states, tilting her head in your direction.
Bell hardly glances your way. “Yes, she works and lives here. Unless she was going somewhere off limits what does it matter? Otherwise, what of it?”
“Is this just common knowledge I just wasn’t aware of? Thia literally described a strange person the night of Hallow’s Evening and neither of you thought to mention it during the interrogation that she constantly wanders the halls quite often?”
“Because it had nothing to do with what happened during the ball,” Bell similarly repeats Cara’s earlier words. “And did you fail to recall that she was shot by the said assassin?”
“Which could’ve been part of the plan for all we know. She could be in league with them.”
“Oh, that’s ridiculous,” Cara suddenly interjects. “She wouldn’t do that. Besides she’s my friend so quit accusing her such things.”
“As if that matters! Just because she’s nice and all friendly to you doesn’t automatically make her trustworthy,” her sister retorts. “Did you know she also apparently sleepwalks?”
Cara pauses for a moment before she responds with, “She has recurring nightmares, you disembodied dimwit, so no, I’m not surprised.”
“Enough.” While not overly loud, Bell’s assertion is domineering enough to halt the strew of arguments being unleashed. “This bickering is nothing but childish and pointless.” She addresses Hiss first. “Nothing could’ve been done to save Thia that day. You know this even if you won’t accept it. Her fate was sealed the moment the King reached his decision.” She regards her sister’s hair which is still coiled tightly around your wrist to the point you’ve lost feeling in your fingers before she uses her own hair to free you from the strands.
“Cara, take Y/N back to her room,” Bell says to her though her gaze remains on Hiss until she turns to you. “And if you could please remain in your room for the rest of the night until morning call it would be much appreciated.”
“Of course. I’m sorry for the trouble I caused,” you answer, feeling guilty of being the cause of the tension between the sisters.
“No need to apologize, Y/N. Have a good rest of the night.”
When you stop at your door, you rest your hand on the handle but don’t open it. “Are you really not surprised by my sleepwalking?” You ask Cara who floats beside you. “I don’t remember doing it ever in my life until now.”
She gently smiles at you, warmth burning within the crimson of her eyes. “Your nightmares have slowly but surely become worse, so I assume that that’s the reason. Even if it somehow isn’t, I don’t believe you’re deceitful or involved in any malicious things.” A weight of sadness causes her smile to slightly wane. “Hiss is just taking Thia’s death especially hard. We’re all close, but those two were inseparable just like Bell and I are. She’ll be okay, so don’t worry,” she reassures you.
All you can do is nod, hoping that she’s right. “Thank you, Cara. You’re a good friend.”
Her smile lifts, revealing teeth as she beams. “I’m glad to hear it, that really means a lot.”
You both wave before you head inside, immediately heading to sit down on your bed. For a few minutes you simply stare down at the carpet beneath your feet, trying to remember the dream you were having while sleepwalking. Something pertaining to your sister but the details are foggy and incoherent.
Huffing in frustration, you’re about to lay down only to stop short upon noticing the pile of dust beside your nightstand. Bending down, you pick up the small navy pouch that’s next to it, recognizing it as the sleeping powder the Queen gave to you. You must’ve somehow knocked it over while you were sleepwalking you think as you dump the thin granules into the bin. As you lie down and burrow beneath the covers, you internally sigh in relief when sleep returns without issue.
When you wake up later on, you feel a twinge in your lower abdomen as you get out of bed. You soon find out the cause of discomfort once you use the restroom and see blood on the toilet paper. Oh joy. You feel a bit miffed that Mother Nature can visit you even down in Hell. Apparently your body has become acclimated enough to the environment, despite the constant stress.
Maybe this is why you suddenly sleepwalked and thought you were with your sister. The shift inside you could be causing strange dreams. One could only hope the answer is as simple as that. After putting some folded toilet paper into your underwear, you finish getting ready before heading downstairs.
                                                               ~*~
In the kitchen, you’re peacefully finishing the rest of your lunch with only Chef for company since Lhaine left to go finish her tasks. That is, until Bren enters the room along with Mel, the latter giving you a disgusted look while the former doesn’t even acknowledge your presence. Not that you’re complaining. As they pass by, you notice Bren has a black ribbon wrapped around her neck, entwined into a little bow at the back, just below her tied up hair. You’re not sure about the color but perhaps because it’s worn higher up it represents a greater status compared to the purple one given to you by the prince for your wrist. Unless this is more of a fashion choice instead.
Both girls head to the counter to eat lunch with Bren gathering food onto a plate while Mel preps the drinks. The latter catches you staring at them and sneers in return. “Can we help you?” She snaps.
You shrug, returning to your own food. “Nothing. Just noticed the new fashion accessory,” you softly compliment. “It’s pretty.”
Mel snorts under her breath, immediately pursing her lips as she focuses on pouring the water. Bren, on the other hand, delivers you with a scalding expression that would probably melt you faster than lava if she possessed that capability. “Oh, you mean this ribbon that signals my disgraced status? Why, how sweet of you to say. You’re probably so satisfied beneath that disgusting saccharine façade,” she spits, cheeks burning red as her eyes tear over.  
Shit, definitely screwed that up. As if she doesn’t already hate your guts. “No, that’s not what I meant. I thought it was by choice, I’m sorry,” you apologize, stumbling over the words, honestly not meaning to offend her or stir the pot. Should’ve just kept your mouth shut.
“Whatever,” Bren sighs, setting their plates on the table before taking her glass from Mel. She takes a sip, immediately frowning at the taste. “How can plain water be so bland and yet so gross?” She mumbles mostly to herself.
Mel shrugs in response. “I know. The wine back home was so much nicer. Ah, maybe one day we’ll get to have a bottle just for ourselves like we used to,” she sighs, reminiscing on past memories.
Her comment elicits another grimace from Bren who doesn’t say anything, instead pointedly keeping her gaze on her unsalted meat and bread. You take the opportunity to gather your plate, finishing off your own glass of water before quickly rinsing them in the sink. Once you’re done, you leave the kitchen so you can get back to your own tasks.
                                                               ~*~
After retrieving, the sheets from the laundry room, you drag the fraying wicker basket behind you, using the hook of the clothes hanger to tug it along. While washing and changing the prince’s bedsheets isn’t too strenuous, you’re not allowed to pick up heavy things as it’ll strain your shoulder and the basket isn’t exactly designed for resting against your hips so you’ve had to improvise in that regard.
Only when you get to the main hall and approach the stairs, you have to crouch down and pull the basket handle up step by step using your own hand so as to prevent the clean sheets from accidentally spilling out. You’re about halfway there when another hand appears and grabs a hold of the other handle. As you glance up, you’re taken by surprise that you can only blankly stare.
“Hurry up, will you? Before you throw out my back,” Rae complains, scowling at your dumbfounded state.
You move then, lifting up the handle with your good arm while she does the same and follows you up the rest of the steps. Instead of leaving you at the top of the staircase she continues walking behind you all the way into the prince’s bedroom which is vacant.  
The two of you set the basket on the ottoman and she already begins unloading the sheets, splaying them against the bare bed. “Thanks,” you say, unsure of how to process this situation.
“Don’t mention it,” she responds, and you take her words at face value.
While you walk to the other side of the bed, your eyes wander to V’s desk and all the books splayed across it. Though you deliberately avoid reading the open pages lest your eyes begin bleeding you happen to catch a glimpse of one book with the title Portaling. So he really has been researching possible ways to escape. The fact that he’s taking this extra time to help you, even though he clearly said he would, still warms your heart. It gives you a sense of relief that there’s someone who has more knowledge and resources, not to mention better luck than you in finding out how to escape from Hell.
Fabric hits the back of your head and you grab the pillowcase before it falls. “Quit snooping through the prince’s room and tuck the sheets in properly,” Rae snaps, her face pinched as she roughly begins working on her side.
Moving quicker, you do the same as you both work in silence, finishing the bed and then sliding the silken pillowcases onto the pillows. “While I appreciate you helping me carry the basket, why bother in the first place? I don’t get the impression I’m liked by you.”
She scoffs. “I don’t hate you if that’s what you’re implying.” Her hands deftly fold the excess pillowcases and blankets, stacking them into small piles.
“You and your friends aren’t exactly fond of me either,” you note, also folding the rest of the laundry.
“They’re not my friends,” she snaps before realizing what she said. “I mean, we’re cousins,” she amends.
You’re taken by surprised though you then remember that they’re all the same type of creature. “Either way, you’ve all hated me from the moment I got here. So I’m sorry if I’m a little apprehensive.”
Rae pauses her folding, blowing out a breath of exasperation as she looks away, avoiding eye contact. “I’m not doing this in an attempt to fulfill Bren’s debt to you, just as a favor for you since you saved her life.”
“Oh, well, thanks,” you awkwardly say. “I was just trying to help.”
“Right. And I meant it when I said don’t mention it. I doubt the prince would want me in here at all even if it’s for a task.”
“Why? I mean, isn’t this a part of our job?” You reason with her.
She hesitates, before answering, “Well, yes, but you have seniority over me. So you should be the one to take care of it first. Besides I’m sure he’d prefer asking you anyway,” she mutters that last part to herself.
“What do you mean? I haven’t been here that long at all.”
“Yeah, but remember what His Highness said after our little ‘tussle’? He demoted Bren and gave you her position as personal servant. So unless he wants something from me specifically, he’ll most likely ask you instead.”
“Is that why she hates me? Because she sees me as a threat?” Bren’s mentioned before how he’ll be hers soon. But with you getting closer to him recently, she probably assumes you’re taking over her territory.
Rae is about to answer yes, but stops short. “They’re close. Well, they had been until you came along,” she mumbles yet again.
All this animosity because they think you’re trying to sabotage a supposed romantic relationship? This is so stupid. You sigh before answering. “I don’t care about whatever connection they have or who’s interested in who, okay? I got kidnapped by demons and now just want out. That’s it. So can all of you just leave me out of this?”
She stares at you for a moment, a look of shock stuck in place until she shakes her head. “Well, Bren doesn’t exactly have a choice. She owes you for saving her from being executed.” As soon as she says it, she scrunches her nose and lets out a noise of frustration as she curses beneath her breath. “I mean, that’s traditionally how it goes, but that’s between you and her. I don’t care for you one way or another, so you stay out of my way and I’ll do the same.”
“Fine by me,” you agree, picking up the now empty basket as you get ready to leave.
“But I will say that you helping Bren be spared is, appreciated.” Rae is keeping her gaze fixated onto the ground and then she turns before quickly leaving the room.
You’re left awkwardly standing and staring at the spot she was just occupying. “You’re welcome,” you softly respond in the quiet space.
                                                               ~*~
Later on, you make a stop at the bathroom near the servants’ quarters, intent on relieving yourself and changing out your “pad.” Seriously, someone needs to start stealing from above ground or inventing proper hygiene products because this is just ridiculously primeval. As you go inside, you head for an open stall only to nearly crash into the restroom door when there’s a loud bang from inside one of the closed stalls.
“Are you kidding me?” A voice shouts, the sound followed by rustling from behind just before a toilet flushes. The stall door flies open, slamming against the wall as Bren emerges, her face red and clearly upset by something. She stops short when she sees you awkwardly standing at the entrance, ready to turn around and bolt. Her lips pinch together before she eventually mutters, “Period problems.” She walks towards the sink so she can wash her hands.
Nodding quietly, you walk behind her as you head towards one of the stalls. “I get it. Sorry, that might be my hormones setting your body’s off. I don’t know if the synchronization is a good or a bad thing,” you snort.
In the mirror, you catch a glimpse of her reflection as the muscles in her face tighten, nose beginning to protrude. Her hands, which were just about to turn on the water, are gripping onto the handles as she lets out a sharp exhale. “Whatever. It is what it is,” she whispers the last part, and you barely catch it though you don’t respond, going into the stall before locking the door as you do.
                                                               ~*~
Something tickles against your cheek causing your face to twitch. The irritating sensation returns and you reach a hand up to rub at your skin, finding it oddly wet. Opening your eyes, you’re greeted by surrounding darkness, a halo of dim blue light shining down on you. Another droplet hits your forehead and you realize it’s water.
Looking around the space, you hear the pool of water before you see it, the pinging droplets splashing every so often. You crawl towards it, nightgown scraping across the rough dirt and stone until you reach the end before peering down into it. There’s nothing to see except your own reflection. Until, through the depths emerges a face that floats closer. One you can immediately recognize despite the haggard look.
Her eyes meet yours and she parts her lips to which you lean closer.
“Boo,” you hear the word whispered right in your ear. Arms wrap around you as you jump, immediately turning to find your sister beside you.
“Faith,” you gasp, flinching at how cold her body is.
“Sis,” she greets in return with a grin. “Maybe this time don’t go running off, yeah?” While she may be smiling, the grip she has on you is tight and unrelenting.
“Right,” you breathe, an icy chill freezing in the pit of your stomach. “Sorry, I don’t know what happened.”
She pulls you up away from the water and starts guiding you down another path. “Come on, let’s stick together and not chase after strange lights,” she suggests. “Where’d you disappear off to last time? It’s like you completely vanished.”
How do you even begin to explain your current situation in Hell to her? “I woke up. For some reason we’ve been able to see each other but only in our dreams,” you tell her.
It’s silent except for the echoing droplets of water dripping into the miniscule puddles at your feet. Beneath the blue light that hangs above your heads as you pass by, you see confusion cloud your sister’s hazy eyes. She seems lost in distant thoughts before she finally speaks. “Our dreams? That can’t be.”
“But it’s true. That’s the only time I’ve been able to see and talk to you. You’re in the hospital in a coma.”
“Hospital.” She speaks the word slowly as though it’s foreign to her. “I barely remember but I think mom and dad took me. I haven’t been there in a while.”
“What?” Her words cause you to go painstakingly still as if your bones are stiffening in place. “That can’t be. It must be because you’re asleep. How else would we be able to see, I mean, I’d know if. . .” You trail off, the air being squeezed from your lungs, unable to draw it back in.
Faith grimaces, her arm ever so slightly tightening around your shoulders. “I haven’t seen mom or dad, or anyone remotely alive, besides you. Feels like I’ve been lost in these tunnels for ages. I don’t even know if I can leave, let alone get back.”
No, it can’t be. You shake your head. “We just haven’t found the right path. I saw the lights change color last time so surely that’s the key to getting out of here,” you tell her, turning your attention towards the next blue light in the distance.
“Sis,” she calls softly, “there’s nothing besides the blue orbs. Maybe you can somehow see something different but I can’t.”
“Then I’ll guide us by following the different colored lights. They must mean something important,” you insist, already heading off in one direction. Your sister follows close behind though she’s hesitant. As you approach the next blue orb, you see a red one hovering off in the distance. “See? There’s a red one down there. Come on,” you urge her, grabbing her arm as you tug her along.
And then you find yourself sprinting, dashing towards the red lights that float farther away. The grip you have on your sister’s arm loosens and you look back, seeing her all the way behind you. “Aren’t you coming?”
“There’s nothing down that way! It’s just a large precipice,” she yells.
You’re confused until you feel jagged stone touch your palms and you find yourself on your hands and knees, holding onto the protruding edge. Staring down below into the darkness, you barely make out the faint red glow all the way down at the bottom.
“Wait, stop!” You hear her shout from behind.
But it’s like your body has a mind of its own, and you’re just a spectator, as you suddenly lean forward before falling into the dark pit.
You hear your name called from behind but there’s nothing to stop your descent, that is, until something wraps around your waist and yanks you back.
The dark abyss falls back as it’s chased away by a soft glowing light of a chandelier you realize as you hit the ground with a grunt, suddenly finding yourself staring up at the high ceiling. Without looking, you know that you’re on the purple carpet that lines the second floor of the castle.
Not in bed like you’re supposed to be.
“Y/N?”
At the sound of your name, you turn your head and see V lying beside you, worry etched along his features. “Are you alright?” His ebony wings are out, curled up around him, bare chest heaving.
It takes you a second too late to realize you’re openly staring while he waits for your answer. You scramble to push yourself up into a sitting position and he follows suit. “I’m sorry,” you blurt out the apology before the uncomfortable silence can smother you. “I think I was caught in a dream and must’ve been sleepwalking again.”
He stares at you incredulously, seemingly at a loss for words while he rakes a hand through his hair, ruffling the blond locks. “I didn’t know your sleepwalking also meant climbing over the balcony railing and nearly falling to your death.”
“My death?”
“Yes,” he lets out a laugh of disbelief, void of any humor. “I was doing some work in the library when I thought I heard voices and movement so I came out to look then saw you balancing precariously on the railing before pulling you away. Thank goodness I happened upon you when I did.”
Why would you be climbing the railing you wonder as you glance over towards it. You vaguely remember trying to climb something in your dream but nothing’s distinct. Just a shroud of darkness that clouds the small pieces still at the forefront. Something about your sister and shadows. How are you forgetting your dreams all of a sudden?
“I’m glad you found me when you did. Thank you,” you say. “I’ve never sleepwalked before until now.”
He cocks his head slightly, chewing the inside of cheek. “Odd. I hope it’s not due to stress especially since Miss is supposed to be giving you a lighter workload. It’s not because of what happened at the celebration, is it?”
The memory of the bullet piercing your shoulder causes it to faintly twinge and you shudder slightly at the painful reminder. “No, it’s not that. I think my dreams have just been weird lately. Probably just worrying about my sister.” You trail off, thinking about what you could’ve been talking to her about until you suddenly remember her mention being lost in the tunnels. And then you recall the blue lights inside that empty cave with the never ending passageways. How can she possibly be trapped there? What state is she in back home if she thinks she’s stuck in the tunnels?
You know of one way to find out. Risking a glance at V, you see him still studying you, expression unreadable. “I know it’s late and I don’t mean to inconvenience you, but can you take me to your mother’s garden?”
“To see your sister I presume?”
You nod in return. “I’m sorry, I just want to see if she’s okay.”
His eyes soften then, a glimmer of sympathy flickering from within. “Alright.” V gets to his feet and carefully helps you up as well.
Neither of you speak a word as you cut through your room and fly down to the greenhouse rooftop with you held securely in his arms. Crouching down before the crystal clear waters, it unveils another part of your dream as you half expect your sister’s face to appear beside your own. But she doesn’t. Instead, your reflection is accompanied by V’s own, the prince resting against the rock by the pond.
As you hold your anklet above the undisturbed water, your hand trembles and you mentally steel yourself for what you might see. Will she just be an empty shell with hardly any remnants of the sister you once knew? Could she actually be that far gone? If so, then it’ll all be for nothing. You try forcing your hand to shove down and just get it over with, but your arm is locked in place.
“You don’t have to if you’re not comfortable, little dove,” V speaks from beside you. “Sometimes it’s easier to not know.” There’s a truth to his sentiment one that’s probably all too familiar for him.
“I know, but if she’s, gone,” you nearly choke on the word, “then is there any point in all this searching?”
“Yes, yourself,” he answers simply. “Even if she’s moved on, we’ll still keep searching for a way to get you home. I’m sure your parents are also missing you dearly.”
“Well, they assume I’m still a part of that internship with Sir. But you’re right.” They’d be devasted at losing not one, but both of their daughters. Staying with your head buried in the sand isn’t an option, at least one that isn’t sustainable in the slightest.
Swallowing, you lower your hand and let the anklet be submerged in the pond. Just like before the water ripples until cracks form along the surface and then shatters, revealing the shimmering glow of crystals. And just like last time, you see the dark hospital room with your dad asleep in the chair nearby. Your sister remains in her bed but nothing has really changed. She still looks the same, except her bones don’t seem to be as noticeable.
“Is it possible she’s getting better on her own?” You wonder aloud, refusing to allow hope to flourish.
“Perhaps. She could be healing on her own or they might’ve found a cure for her,” V says, sitting up slightly to peer into the water. “Do you feel a little better at least?”
“A little. I just wish I knew how much time I had. How much time she has,” you sigh, pulling your anklet out which causes the water to stop glittering before returning to its original state. “Thank you for bringing me here.” You slip the accessory back around your ankle, fingers pinching the strings while you remain staring at it.
“Of course, Y/N. It’s the least I can do,” he tells you. His hand reaches out and touches the fabric lightly as you feel him lean closer beside you. “You know, this would actually be a popular accessory here.”
Perplexed, you turn to face him and are startled by how close he actually is to you, your shoulders nearly brushing each other. “Really?”
He nods, a ghost of a smile forming on his lips. “Honest. These are the most favored colors to wear here.”
“That sounds about right,” you snort. As if Hell hasn’t always been associated with red and black since probably the beginning of time.
“Aesthetics aside, from a symbolic perspective, I think your sister chose well.”
“Red for danger and black for death? Yeah, that sounds about right in my case.”
He chuckles with a shake of his head, his fingers tracing along the skin of your ankle. “Colors can have a variety of meanings as I’m sure you’re already aware. I prefer to think of them as representing courage and power which better suits you,” he says, drawing your gaze to him with an undeniable pull.
Eyes interlocked, it takes full control for you to break the connection, focusing instead on the flowers sat on a table behind him. The literal bloodred roses are in full bloom with blood droplets dripping into the soil they’re planted in. Swallowing, you finally answer. “And you study the meaning of colors too? Fascinating.”
One shoulder lifts in a half-shrug. “I know a small bit. Otherwise how else would I be able to dress fashionably?” He jokes. “Actually, mother is the one who’s well-versed in the symbolic meaning of colors. I just know the most about red and black because of how much they pertain to our world.” His hand drops away from your ankle, the warmth escaping with him. “Are you ready to go back?” When you nod, he gathers you into his arms and stands before flying up through the opening in the ceiling.
The sudden change in gravity has you quickly wrapping your arms around his neck so you can hang on even if he has a secure grip on you. While there’s not much of a breeze, the night is still rather cool, enough to slowly sap the heat from your body especially with the thin nightgown you’re currently wearing. Thankfully the heat from V’s bare skin is more than enough to at least help you retain some warmth. And yet, despite being shirtless, he’s not fazed in the slightest by the night air.
It only takes a few seconds for you to reach the balcony of your room, but rather than setting you on your feet, he instead carries you to your bed and gently sets you down on the soft mattress. His arms don’t slide out from underneath you and you don’t release the hold you from around his neck. “Hopefully now that you’ve seen her, you can rest easier tonight. And I’ll let the heads know to keep an eye out in case you begin sleepwalking again. You’ve already survived one close call and I don’t want you getting hurt,” he says.
“Thanks, I hope that’ll be the last of it too.” With the close proximity, your noses almost brush and if you only lift your head a tad then your lips would touch. The notion has you wanting to draw closer, an innate urge to feel how soft they might be.
V also peers down at you with an intensity of his own before he moves first. He leans closer, lips drawing near and your mouth tingles in anticipation of making contact only for you to feel a gentle touch against your cheek. As he presses a kiss on your skin, your face feels hot, cheeks rapidly heating as a result and you know he must be able to feel the warmth radiating on his lips.
And then he pulls away much too soon, removing his arms from around you while your own limply fall into your lap. “Rest well, little dove,” he murmurs, his umber eyes now a molten onyx, with a longing that hides just below the surface.
“Good night, V.” You somehow manage to gain control of your voice, entire body now warm with no traces of the frigid night air left remaining.
Leaving you with one more smile, you watch him walk to the door, his wings the last that you see before the door closes shut. He just kissed you on the cheek. While the two of you have been nothing but amicable, once he dropped the initial flirtatious façade and arrogance, is he implying something different now? Or was that simply a friendly gesture? You can’t tell, having no idea what the demonic customs are and you’re not sure exactly how much of the human ones apply in this instance either.
Needless to say, sleep doesn’t come for the rest of the night. Even as you try tossing and turning, you only manage dozing off every so often. The hours drag by as you fidget beneath your covers before you finally just get up and dressed for the day. You’re walking down the hall towards the kitchen as you decide to go ahead and eat breakfast since morning call will be soon enough anyway. Besides, you want to talk to Lhaine and ask her about the prince’s display of affection. Or maybe you should hold off on telling her, not sure if you’re prepared for her onslaught of questions and comments.
Before you step onto the stairs, you hear voices and see a pair of figures standing just behind the thrones. Ducking down, you press against the wall, straining to hear what they’re saying.
“Any new information?” The first person asks and you recognize him as the King, only now able to catch a glimpse of his glowing red eye.
“No, I’m afraid information has been scarce and no one seems to know the exact coordinates,” the other person says. Though you crane your neck, their back faces you and they’re obscured in the shadows yet they seem to be male.
“Even at the last location?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“You’ve already failed me once,” the King growls. “Keep searching and only report back once you’ve discovered something useful to our quest. The gemstone mustn’t fall into the wrong hands.”
“Of course, Your Majesty, the family’s stability is of utmost importance and I will not rest until we succeed.” The other person gives a bow before walking off, disappearing into the dark shadows below the stairwell while the King heads off in the opposite direction. It’s only when they’re gone do you suddenly remember the strange shadowy figure you saw in the garden when you first began staying in your old room, realizing that that’s the same person.
You continuing waiting at the top of the stairs until the slightest sliver of twilight begins creeping through the windows before you finally stand up straight, knees stiff from being in that position. What in the world could the King possibly want with some gemstone?
— — — 
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A/N: Meant to post this yesterday, but editing took longer and I was reworking some scenes. Hope y’all enjoy! Thoughts and comments are always welcome. I’m hoping to be back on tumblr more often soon, just been busy with life but I’m doing my best to keep the momentum going on my writing. This turtle is still chugging along, slowly but surely. Thank you again for your patience! <3
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depressedhouseplant · 1 year ago
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🔞 Cops & Robbers (Bbangju) 🔞
Chapter 3
Tags: Description of torture & death, no smut
WC: 2500
A/N: Cozy up my 2 readers. This is what I refer to as plot
“What kind of fucked up shit have you gotten into that you had to call me?” Sunwoo asked when he picked up the phone.
“You remember that gang I mentioned a few months ago?” Juyeon had snuck out of the room to call the best hacker he knew.
“You mean the one that got Eric pinched?” Sunwoo replied.
“Yeah. I think they tortured Younghoon and killed his assistant,” Juyeon told him.
“They tortured your cop?!” the other man cried.
“He’s not my cop,” Juyeon insisted.
“Bullshit. If I didn’t know any better I’d think he was your boyfriend not someone who’s been trying to arrest you for the better part of five years,” Sunwoo snorted.
“Regardless of our relationship, someone tortured him. I gave him the names I know two days ago. He was kidnapped less than a day later. That’s too close to be a coincidence. They’ve either got a mole or their own hacker,” Juyeon explained.
“And you want me to run those names through the dark web to find them,” it was a statement not a question.
“I want you to run them through every database you know and maybe even make up a few,” Juyeon instructed.
“That I can do,” Sunwoo confirmed. “What do you want me to do when I find something?”
“Come over here. This is an encrypted line, but I don’t trust anything at this point,” Juyeon said.
“Or I could just come over now before I start and set up in that faraday cage you call a basement,” Sunwoo replied.
“That’s probably better. Let yourself in and you know where to set up,” Juyeon heard rustling in the bedroom. “Gotta go.”
“Where’d you go?” Younghoon asked, trying to push himself up to sitting.
“I had to make a call. What are you doing?” Juyeon walked over to the bed and helped Younghoon sit up.
“I have to pee. All those IV fluids Kevin gave me caught up with me. I figured you wouldn’t appreciate me peeing in the bed,” Younghoon explained.
“Neither would you. Let me help you,” Juyeon smiled a little. Younghoon looked like he was going to protest.
“Thank you,” he said instead.
“I don’t want you hurting yourself more,” Juyeon got on the side that didn’t have stitches or torn muscles, put Younghoon’s arm over his shoulders, and helped him to the bathroom.
“You don’t have to come in with me,” Younghoon said.
“I’ll be on the other side of the door the whole time. I hope you don’t have a shy bladder,” Juyeon teased.
“I’ll be fine,” Younghoon assured him. Juyeon waited until Younghoon was done then helped him back to the bed. Even though his torso was covered in bruises, Younghoon still cuddled up next to Juyeon. Juyeon rested the other man’s head against his shoulder and pulled his leg across his hips.
“He was dead when I woke up,” Younghoon whispered.
“What?” Juyeon asked.
“Chanhee was dead when I woke up. One of them choked me out and when I came to, they’d already killed him. At first I thought they were bluffing to scare me. Then I saw the bullet wounds. They shot him twice in the head. They left his body in there with me. He had nothing to do with this. He was just an admin. I tried to convince them not to take him,” Younghoon started to cry.
“I’ve got the best in the business tracking down the names I gave you. If anyone can get all the details, it’s him,” Juyeon assured him.
“They let me go when they realized I really don’t know anything other than a few names. I don’t know what they did with Chanhee’s body. His family will never forgive me,” he sobbed.
“I can get Changmin and Hyunjae on it,” Juyeon carefully wiped Younghoon’s cheeks.
“Why are you helping me?” Younghoon asked.
“Because you’re mine and no one gets away with messing with what’s mine,” Juyeon replied. Sunwoo was right. Younghoon was his and he was Younghoon’s.
“Yours, huh?” Younghoon sniffed.
“It only took me five years to do it,” Juyeon smiled.
“The ultimate slow burn,” Younghoon huffed. Juyeon laughed.
“I’ll be really pissed if they messed up your scar. I marked you first,” he said.
“I don’t think so. They wanted to know where I got it from though,” Younghoon reached his arm up to hug around Juyeon’s shoulders. He hissed when his side moved.
“Careful,” Juyeon held onto him tighter.
“I told them the truth. I told them you tried to kill me the first time we met. I think that sold them on the fact I really didn’t know anything,” Younghoon continued. “I left out the part where I tried to kill you the next time.”
“They don’t need to know about our extended courtship,” Juyeon ran his fingers up Younghoon’s arm. Younghoon huffed a laugh.
“If that’s the case, you owe me five years’ worth of lavish gifts,” he said.
“Whatever you want, darling. I’m not letting you leave here until I’ve taken care of this,” Juyeon replied as he weaved their fingers together.
“You think I’m still in danger?” Younghoon looked up at him. In the dark it was easy to pretend his face wasn’t bruised and he was in Juyeon’s bed for a different reason.
“I don’t know, but I don’t want to take any chances,” Juyeon said. They heard a door slam downstairs. “And that would be Sunwoo.”
“Do you need to talk to him?” Younghoon asked.
“Nah, he knows his way around. They all do,” Juyeon replied.
“You did a good job hiding this place. I didn’t know about it,” Younghoon told him.
“You only saw what I wanted you to see,” Juyeon rested his hand on Younghoon’s thigh.
“I figured that out relatively quickly,” Younghoon nipped at Juyeon’s jaw.
“You’re feeling feisty,” Juyeon observed.
“Which is funny because I think the pain meds are starting to wear off,” Younghoon huffed a laugh.
“Do I need to get you more? I’m not a doctor, but I’m decent at giving shots,” Juyeon offered. He tried to quell his anxiety. Kevin had given him the highest dose he could without risking any kind of respiratory side effects. He hated that Younghoon was in pain. It was his fault. He never should’ve asked Younghoon to look up those names. He should’ve dealt with himself. Then Chanhee would still be alive and Younghoon wouldn’t have spent roughly 18 hours being tortured for information he didn’t have.
“I’m sorry,” Juyeon whispered.
“What for?” Younghoon looked up at him.
“None of this would’ve happened if I hadn’t asked you to check those names,” Juyeon sighed.
“You don’t know that. If they’re onto you like you think they are, it’s possible they would’ve found me eventually,” Younghoon tried to reassure him.
“I still feel responsible,” Juyeon kissed Younghoon’s hair. He didn’t smell like himself. He smelled like antiseptic. “You smell funny.”
“Well you don’t smell so great yourself,” Younghoon sniped.
“I mean you don’t smell like you,” Juyeon explained.
“How do you know what I smell like?” Younghoon asked.
“We’ve been in each other’s personal space enough. I bet you’d notice if I smelled like hospital,” Juyeon pointed out.
“I suppose you’re right,” Younghoon conceded.
“Of course I’m right. I might send someone over to get your soap and shampoo. I need you smelling right,” Juyeon grinned.
“I’m not allowed to use your stuff?” Younghoon poked him.
“I won’t be responsible for my actions if you start smelling like me,” Juyeon said.
“You and I both know you’d control yourself because you didn’t want to hurt me. You went up the stairs at a snail’s pace,” Younghoon called his bluff.
“And now it’s your turn to be right,” Juyeon teased. “It’s six am and you need to sleep more.”
“And you don’t?” Younghoon asked.
“I don’t sleep,” he wouldn’t be getting much sleep with Younghoon in his bed. He was too anxious to fall asleep in case something happened while he was asleep.
“You need to,” the other man winced when he tried to move.
“And you need more pain medication. I’ll be back,” Juyeon gently moved him.
“I’m fine,” Younghoon insisted. Juyeon gave him a look. “If it’ll make you feel better.”
“It will,” Juyeon replied.
“Off you go then,” Younghoon tried to wave him off with one hand. The other one was holding onto his ribs. Juyeon tried not to snarl at the sight. They were going to wish they’d never been born when he got his hands on them. Whoever they were.
Kevin had left a set of premeasured syringes for Younghoon. Juyeon learned how to give shots out of necessity. If one of them got too banged up someone else had to medicate them. The irony was most of them were either afraid of needles or squeamish.
“Didn’t expect to see you down here,” Sunwoo’s voice came from behind him.
“Time for Younghoon’s next round of pain meds,” Juyeon replied, not turning around.
“Morphine? How bad is it?” Sunwoo eyed the syringe in Juyeon’s hand.
“Bad enough,” Juyeon said, trying to make it clear that he didn’t want to talk about it. “Have you found anything?”
“Not yet, but it’s been less than an hour. I came up here for a snack and a Red Bull,” Sunwoo stretched.
“I’m pretty sure most of your blood volume is Red Bull,” Juyeon snorted.
“I’d be far less efficient without it,” Sunwoo told him as he opened the fridge. “Last time I checked, you pay me because I’m ruthlessly efficient.”
“Last time I checked, I dock pay for attitude,” Juyeon made a face. Sunwoo rolled his eyes.
“I believe that about as much as I believe the cop isn’t your boyfriend,” Sunwoo grabbed a drink and leftover pizza.
“He has a name,” Juyeon tried not to sound too irritated.
“Fine, I believe you’ll dock my pay about as much as I believe Younghoon isn’t your boyfriend,” Sunwoo corrected.
“Have I told you how annoying you are?” Juyeon bumped Sunwoo out of the way to get a water bottle out of the fridge.
“Not in the past 24 hours,” Sunwoo smirked. “Now go back to your man and I’ll get back to finding these assholes.”
“Thanks,” Juyeon tipped his head.
“No problem,” Sunwoo waved on his way back to the basement.
“Sorry I took so long. Sunwoo was down there,” Juyeon apologized when he got back in the bedroom.
“I told you I’m fine,” Younghoon sighed. His breathing had changed since Juyeon left downstairs.
“What did you do?” Juyeon asked.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Younghoon replied.
“Don’t lie to me. I told you it doesn’t suit you,” Juyeon eyed him suspiciously.
“I had to pee again. I got myself there and back just fine. It still hurts to breathe so I might be a little out of breath,” Younghoon confessed.
“Kim Younghoon, I swear…” Juyeon started.
“I don’t want you to baby me,” Younghoon cut him off.
“Darling, I’m not trying to baby you. You got the shit beaten out of you. I’m trying to make sure that you start to heal properly,” Juyeon sat on the bed next to him. “Now let me see that haunch.”
“Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” Younghoon joked as Juyeon pulled down the waistband of the sweatpants to reveal Younghoon’s hip.
“Technically you aren’t supposed to give shots in the ass anymore. Something about nerve damage,” Juyeon gently pressed the skin to find the correct spot. “Little pinch.”
Younghoon held still as Juyeon gave him the shot, watching him intently.
“Didn’t even feel it,” Younghoon mused.
“Told you I was decent at this,” Juyeon smiled. He fixed Younghoon’s pants and laid them back down. “Seriously, you need to sleep.”
“Every time I close my eyes, I see his body,” Younghoon said quietly. “It’s not like I’ve never seen a dead body before. He was my friend, though. He told me that he’d eventually find out who I slept with when he saw the hickey you gave me. Now he’ll never know and I won’t get to listen to him shamelessly tease me about it.”
“I guess that depends on your views on the afterlife,” Juyeon idly rubbed Younghoon’s arm.
“Honestly? I hope he just blipped out of existence. Seems like the best possible option to me,” Younghoon replied.
“I’m not sure what I believe. Guess I’ll find out when I die,” Juyeon sighed into the dark. “It’ll go away eventually.”
“What will?” Younghoon asked.
“Seeing him every time you close your eyes,” Juyeon couldn’t bring himself to look at Younghoon.
“How do you know?” the other man asked.
“I don’t talk about it much, but I watched my dad die. He’d been shot by a rival gang and was brought back here. They couldn’t do anything for him so I watched him die on the couch,” Juyeon told him.
“How old were you?” Younghoon tightened his grip around Juyeon’s waist.
“Thirteen,” Juyeon whispered.
“You said he was brought back here?” Younghoon repeated.
“This is the house I grew up in. I have other houses, but somehow I always end up back here. My mom passed last year, but you already know that. I’m an only child which I know you also already know. My men aren’t just employees. They’re my family,” Juyeon hugged Younghoon back.
“What do you know about me?” Younghoon rested his head on Juyeon’s chest.
“I know you’re also an only child. Your parents were older when you were born. If I’m remembering correctly your mom was 42 and your dad was 47. Your dad died of cancer the first year we met and your mom died less than a year later. Chanhee was the only person you really spent time with. Am I right?” Juyeon told him.
“You’re right. Funny how you know more about my family than I know about yours,” Younghoon observed.
“I do have Sunwoo, but I also don’t let anyone see anything I don’t want them to see,” Juyeon reminded him.
“Always one step ahead,” Younghoon yawned.
“I’m the best for a reason. I know you don’t want to sleep, but at least try? I’ll be right here the whole time. I promise,” Juyeon kissed his hair.
“You promise?” Younghoon confirmed.
“Have I ever lied to you?” Juyeon asked. Younghoon reached up and traced the scar on Juyeon’s collarbone. Kevin had offered him multiple methods to fade it, but Juyeon refused. It was a reminder of the person who refused to let him go.
“Never,” Younghoon answered.
“Then sleep, darling,” Juyeon nuzzled the other man’s hair. Younghoon sighed. Then Juyeon’s phone buzzed on the bedside table.
Sunwoo: Found something
“What is it?” Younghoon asked, picking up his head.
“Nothing that can’t wait,” Juyeon replied.
Juyeon: Later
Sunwoo: Stay with your man. I’ve got it covered
Juyeon: What did I say about docking pay for attitude?
Sunwoo: Riiiiiight
“I’m all yours,” Juyeon said, putting his phone back.
“I know,” Younghoon replied. “I know.”
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xherry7816 · 2 years ago
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holy moly xherry7816 you've reached 50 likes !!!! ive been working on some gi designs for the ninja but ive been struggling to show off their individuality while still looking like their gi but i havent actually looked up reference of gi so in pretty sure that should be the first step.
ok so the au (still unnamed) taking place in a slightly canon divergent season 5 MORRO is currently after the realm crystal in his attempts to bring the PREEMINENT (?) to NINJAGO and like destroy it or whatever, solid stuff. except whats different here is that MORRO does not go and posses LLOYD as his first step because he'd struggle more as a human than if he were a ghost so he and his ghoul gang decide to get the hard stuff out the way, the ninja chasing them to put a stop to him obviously. also in this au NYA is not told by WU that she is the water ninja, instead she receives her awakening when defending one of the team from a ghost and then hes like omg :0 !#!%#!$#??
the au starts off with the mission to retrieve the realm crystal on time (before MORRO) because even if he beats them to everythinf else MORRO cant do anything without the crystal. unfortunately for them !!! MORRO is already a few steps ahead and when they reach the resting place of the FSM they find the ghost, crystal in hand. boom boom battle !! and theyre all fighting anf there are ghosts everywhere (NYA is not here bc remember KAI isnt supposed to know hes the water ninja yet) and MORRO is very clearly goig after LLOYD. wait, ok wait i need to type up my thinking process rn or else it wont make sense when i read everything back bc isnt only a spinjulistu master able to find the tomb,,,,, ermmm OK LLOYD possesion- no i cant do that to him. its an au whatever, so yeah MORRO'S in there crystal in hand going after greenie and KAI kicks in yk the brother stuff so theyr fighting anf stuff and like idk MORRO knocks KAI off his feet anf starts heading towards LLOYD again so as a last ditch effort KAI fires towards MORRO and it hits the crystal aaaa ! even thought i cant possibly imagine the crystal being so weak i can just say the power of love made him stronger bc those tight family bonds (im a sucker 4 found famiky but who isnt these days). and then its kinda like the scene in SONIC PRIME where the prism goes boom !! and theres a shockwave and it looks cool and then u see SONIC traversing through the SHATTERVERSE 4 the first time and then he ends up in NEW YOKE, except its KAI landing in the PRIME EMPIRE CITY with all his friends looking different and jazz. the whole mission is to retrive the realm crystal shards and put them back 2gether so he can get home and finish the fight with MORRO. for the og universe i kinda just imagine time stops so 4 the ninja itd look like KAI disappears for a few moments and then comes right back. as i did mention when i was vaugely describing universe 1 (PRIME EMPIRE divergent i hope im usong that word right btw) KAI doesnt stay long in that universe so just like in SONIC PRIME he will return to some universes, whether on purpose or not, to retrieve the shards
i was wondering if i should write a fanfic bc thats what most people seem 2 do but im not really good with keeping up the motivation to write, i used 2 have a miraculous ninjago crossover on ao3 (literally called miraculous bc im unoriginal) but after like 5 updates i did updates like one every 3 months and then deleted it lol so im probably jist going to let this au die when i get tired of it !!!! tbh i need to rewatch ninjago bc im forgetting all my facts (and a SONIC PRIME rewatch not that i really need to but its very good har har)
btw i hope its obvious that my username was supposed 2 be CHERRY, like my name, but i misspelt it and thought it looked cool.
should i make a tag 4 this au ??? its not really hard 2 find it since its pretty much all i post and i dont even know what 2 call it,,, ill just think abt it 4 now :D
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iridescentis · 2 months ago
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i haven't D: i'm so sorry, i keep forgetting
i shall queue up their entire discography now >:D
also marina is good :D
i already knew a few of her songs, and now i have a few more on my playlist (i really like the song 'girls', and a few favourites that i already knew before were teen idle, how to be a heartbreaker, oh no, hermit the frog, are you satisfied, and probably more than i can't think of rn lol)
how about you? :)
also i am happy to yap about music :) i think one of the first times we kinda interacted was talking about the crane wives in the tags of a post lol
all good!! EEEEEE YAY!!!! :D
she is she is! I haven't listened to her much recently I feel like it suits a chaotic mood and I've been looking for easy vibes atm
I always love everything electra heart, there are a few in family jewels that i like like the ones you mentioned, and a couple in froot but i mostly only listen to electra heart tbh
my favs as of now are state of dreaming, power & control, radioactive, buy the stars, valley of the dolls, e.v.o.l, ancient dreams in a modern land, venus fly trap, hermit the frog and are you satisfied (that's a whole ass playlist lmao)
yayyyy hehe :) oh yeah! united by crane wives 💪💪 ive been listening to the live songs more often recently and oughhh i love them dearly
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icharchivist · 2 years ago
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was having banri thoughts lately just bc like. why not right. and then i suddenly remember u mentioning that some ppl... did not like banri at the start? which is wild to me bc in my mind ive always been ride or die for him. like i love juza so much but i feel like. that doesnt rly oppose liking banris character as well? banri is such fun character drama at the beginning of autumn and then his and itarus dynamic is fun from the start... gosh and the acting in the final bits of the autumn troupe between him and juza! suchhh fun tension. like. idk. it just started making me think like wow. digging thru a3 on my own with mostly the influence of like, just you has probably skewed my opinion of what the common perception of a3 is like. for example in my head winter is the most popular troupe which... it maybe isnt? i feel like recently i saw u mention summer might be the most popular(? this couldve been a dream) and i didnt realize itaru was super popular until like. last month. i mean if i had to pick a character i thought was the most popular i'd pick. misumi.
LKFJDLKFJD god what an ask
yeah i doubt i'm exactly the "common a3 experience" but to be perfectly honest i haven’t really kept tabs on the fandom per se since hh mid-2020 when i started to dig into some tags and saw so much negativity i was just :/ and stopped doing so (the curse to liking rascals </3).
Nowadays my knowledge of the a3 fandom is mostly the people interreacting with me, which already generally means that they vibe with what i post, so it gives me a skewed vision of the fandom like, are we all like that? or are the loud voices that made me go avoid the tag still here yaknow?
More stuff under cut
For Banri, i'll admit i wasn't too hot about him when i started the game, which now i regret so bad because he's my precious little meow meow hands down. He has such a good arc!!!! I know in my case i just had a hard time because i cared for Juza right away and i was still so high on Summer's development i kept comparing Banri to Tenma and going "here's why Tenma is amazing and Banri is cringefail". But it lasted me until a bit before Banri sees the portraits, when he starts to be conflicted, after that i was all, oh wait i like that guy. And then the more content i saw of him the more i loved him and he became my fav Autumn Chara. (so if you want to ramble about him more you’re free to do so because i’m team i adore this guy. please do. you’re so right in what you say of him.)
But so i did expect people to have my experience - hard time in the beginning, then mellowing on him before the end of the Autumn Chapter. And it wasn't the case 😭😭😭😭 At least at the time, the Banri's takes were rancid. Like it was genuinely annoying at a point, you couldn't go anywhere without some Banri bashing fuckery, even after his initial arc, people just. really hated him. My most hated takes were that i saw so many people say Banri would bully Yuki or stuff implying they would have an antagonistic relationship and it's probably why i cling to Into the Night so much, like HELL you're going to twist one of my fav crosstroupe dynamic!!! I legit saw so many things reducing Banri to a menace and a bully, and if not that, talking about how much everyone in the dorm hated him, and it was really driving me insane then.
I remember once making a post about how i was so close to blacklist "Banri" because people didn't filter this bashing with tags so i was just ready to just, not see Banri anymore, but it was breaking my heart. But somehow after this post i got a few people coming back at me about how it annoyed them too and i saw some of those people make their own posts in a more. direct way. and after that i never saw Banri bashing again. My power (< absolutely not, coincidence at best i'm sure).
A lot of Banri bashing i saw back then were from "newcomers" in the sense that it was after the anime aired, and a lot of people were just coming in without knowing about the events. imo i think the events do help giving a better feel to Banri in general so the fact people were fresh from the anime might have skewed things. I remember a friend who was in that case, newcomer and all, only read the main story, didn't like Banri after reading the main story. Then, Main story act 2 came out and while they didn't read the events, they read the main story and they started liking Banri there (because he did develop so much since then)
And as a whole i'd say, by act 2 it must have died out a bit.
There's another chara who gets bashed a lot but. Act 2 stuff 😔. Unfortunately a chara i like a lot so this was my breaking point of "i'm not checking the tags anymore none of you know how to behave". I think it mellowed since then? and i know the chara is popular in the JPN fandom meanwhile.
else i've seen like, Tasuku having very little content from fans and a few people being mean to him when they talked about him, but it was a long time ago and i sure hope it died out. I don't think i'd say he's bashed, more that most folks don't have strong feelings about him and stopped just with a bitter taste over his anger toward Tsumugi in the first winter chap.
Now. About popularity, Winter is DEF NOT the most popular troupe. Pretty sure it plays between Autumn and Summer in term of popularity. That said it's not like any of the troupes are unpopular so any ramblings about each Troupe would be meet with pleased reactions from the fandom, so it is harder to gauge that but yeah.
Troupewise something i noticed is that i think Summer is the most popular in term of GROUP, while Autumn is the most popular in term of Individuals. So a lot of people liked Summer specifically for their dynamic and how each of those charas played out each other more than individually liking each of them, while for Autumn it was, they liked all of them strongly! not specifically for their dynamic, though of course it plays a part, but as individuals. I mention it because i think it was the key difference in rank up in why i think Summer plays were okay to rank up to while Autumn were a nightmare. (that said that can also be "blamed" on "fans gravitate around characters that have elements they have as well" or something which means Autumn fans were more likely to be competitive and stubborn in a way Summer were more mellow.)
Itaru is definitely the most popular character of the whole game, period. It's not even a competition at this point it's so funny. when the EN server was live, anytime Itaru had a rank up card was a bloodbath (< survivor of Kniroun ranking up at 0.2%. Didn't sleep normally for the whole duration of the event it was so much.).
By the end of the server things were dying out a bit but still in general you could get a vague idea of popularity by how wild the rankings could be. For instance the fact Tasuku's ranking was a breeze without even trying was indicative of how he's not that popular.
In general i've noticed, at the time at least, that Winter ranks up were rather easy. I've ranked up for a few of Summer and i didn't see much of a problem otherwise*. Spring was really chill unless Itaru was in rank up. Autumn was THE Bloodbath. There were Autumn Stans organziation all over, the appp SYSTEMATICALLY broke EVERYTIME Autumn was around, it was always much more challenging, so yeah man.
Misumi* is probably the one i'd consider the second most popular character of the game, pretty much.
(*The funny thing is that Misumi got his lead play very early in the server's history, and i know i ranked up for him then and i didn't think it was too hard. In retrospect i'm sure it has more to do with the fact the game didn't have as many people playing it, than it had to do with popularity, so my word on Summer not being a problem is based on weird stats)
A while ago, for the Taiwanese server, there was a special set of cards in term of popularity on this server. Itaru got a SSR, Masumi got a SR, and Misumi got a R.
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Masumi is in a weird position because i'd say he's fairly unpopular in the EN server, while he's popular in the JPN and Taiwanese server. Honestly i'm assuming he's especially popular with the teen audience.
AND THE MOST TELLING PART:
The first Cross-troupe's play was involving the most popular character of each troupe, by a poll being made by the JPN server. The leads were Itaru and Banri, then Misumi as a secondary character and Tsumugi as a more support character.
Meaning at the time, this was the order of the 4 most popular characters of the game.
When the mixed troupe event came to the English server, i remember a poll circulating on tumblr and likely twitter as well, trying to see if the EN Server had different favorites. Itaru still came on top, Misumi followed closely afterward. For Autumn, it was Juza and Taichi that were on the top of the Autumn poll, not Banri, and for Winter, i think it was still Tsumugi but Homare was very close behind.
So that was the popularity at least back then, god knows opinions now.
I've seen Homare be extremely popular on tumblr for sure. I have no doubt in Juza's popularity as well.
I saw a lot of Taichi fan going "Taichi is underappreciated" but i saw so many of them i was kinda just thinking "bro i'm pretty sure Taichi is in the popular character squad by now" But i'm also on the other hand as i've once seen a post saying Hisoka was popular and it stunned me a moment going ????? because as a huge Hisoka stan i don't see it???? There's a few devoted fans, and he has a better fanbase in JPN server, but in EN server??? (I'm comparing the last rank up for Hisoka VS the last rank up for Taichi in my mind and i genuinely don't see it for instance) so i also think it's likely i have a "fav blindspot" where i just don't think people are vibing with the charas the way i'm vibing, just. exactly like what i'm talking about with the Taichi stans so.... (that said i also once was tagged in a post that was going "i don't think i've ever seen a Hisoka or Tasuku stan" and a friend just went @ icha come here. Schrodinger Hisoka who's both popular and unpopular depending on who you're asking. And Tasuku IS MY UNDERRATED MEOW MEOW)
I think i recall Tenma being popular for a time, and Yuki is well appreciated by everyone around here. Kazunari has a loud fanbase but i'm pretty sure the seiyuu thing was a huge blow to them and a lot of them got more quiet at the time.
And for what it's worth i do think there's a sizeable portion of the fandom that really like Tsuzuru, but i think it's just, something you get to see a lot when a huge part of the fandom is creatives. And to be completely fair, Clockwork Heart is the one event i had a massive burn out at and didn't pay attention to the rankings at all, so i can't tell if people went really wild about it. And the next Tsuzuru rank up event was literally the last event of the EN server and i'm sure it's not indicative of anything since a lot of folks just didn't want to bother. So unlike the others were i'm using rank up as a gauge of popularity i can't tell how Tsuzuru's might influence his.
SO YEAH that's for what i could pick up BACK THEN, as i remind, i didn't really look deeply into the fandom itself. I'm really good in my corner so it might not actually be indicative of the fandom trends and i'm maybe completely off base.
Then about how, i, personally, don't represent the fandom, unless the fandom changed since then: When i first liveblogged a3, it was when the server was new and no one was on tumblr about it, so i was a little unfiltered from people's opinions. when i came back about a year later to comment on act 2, getting all worked up, and running then into the growing fanbase on this website, is when i started to run into fan takes and everything.
And, let's be clear, i came back because i was crying very hard over Hisoka and Azuma and the full Winter Troupe, and Chikage, so i really came here with my Big Winter Boots only talking about Winter and then Spring.
I ended up getting a feel of what people were talking about a lot at that time, and kinda ended up talking more about what i considered my Underrated Gems.
For instance, i absolutely adore Itaru. I ranked up for him, i've bleed for him, i love the dude. But he's so popular i figured i legit had nothing to say about him that a hundred people wouldn't have been able to say before. So i've mostly didn't really talk about him much despite loving him a LOT because i just didn't think i had anything to say. (now in my current reread i'm doing it so disconnected from what i know of the fandom that i indulged in talking more about how much i like him LMAO)
Meanwhile, there's characters i love that i know the fandom don't talk about much so i end up talking about them more, and it's the case of Tasuku. I wouldn't be surprised Tasuku is really low on most people's popular list. I'm just Not Most People and you're going to hear me ramble about that hunk of a man every few days or so.
I've made my niche in the Winter Troupe appreciation gang and i'm pretty sure by now a lot of other Winter people follow me as a result because i couldn't shut the fuck up, so then my perception of the fanbase gets skewed because i just think of Them ahah.
And there is the fact i adore the rookies, mainly Chikage and Guy, but don't talk about them so much mostly because they came out later in the main story and i've been rereading act 1 so many times instead,,, and didn't talk much about act 2 in case some people managed to save themselves from being spoiled (like you!!)
So my personal perception of a3 is probably not reflecting the whole a3 fanbase really much. God the amount of times i talked my friends's ears off about Winter, that they kinda just humored me without thinking much about it, until they found out one of the More Popular Chara (Itaru, Tenma and the whole Autumn Troupe mostly) and suddenly they're like *twirls hair* heeyy Icha tell us more about a3. It's genuinely so funny to me.
and again i don't know perhaps i'm full of shit, and it's not like i've kept tabs on the fandom recently either!
But that is at least a bit of what i remember in term of popularity and what i can say is that i shouldn't be taken as an example of the fanbase's views in general.
I'm vibing in my corner, and by experience, it usually meant i ended up talking about more niche things, but since i'm disconnected from the fandom i'm pretty sure i still have opinions that are popular opinions. So who knows! not me!
So yeah that's all i can say about the popularity of the a3 fandom. Def not an indication of it by me.
and it must be funny for you since you only really have me as your fandom gateaway because well. *waves at post* yeah.
The more you know!
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mylifeisactuallyamess · 3 years ago
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A/N: Ok so this has been sat in my drafts forever. I actually forgot it existed at one point. Anyway, I’ve been clearing out some docs in the hope it will stop that overwhelmed feeling when I open the app 😂 Don’t expect a sequel 👍🏻
Summary: You have two names etched onto your wrists. One is the name of your enemy and the other is the name of your soulmate. But you need to work out which is which.
Warnings: Mentions of scars, death, war, hatred, sadness, angst, fluff (I know I was wild back then. Fluff? Me?) Hasn’t been beta read so all the mistakes are mine and in plain view. This is easily over a year old.
Word Count: 3296
Tagging: @daydreamsofren @princessxkenobi @strangunddurm (you don’t have to read!)
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You sat on the storage crate eating some breakfast watching the bustle of the base pass you by. You’d arrived at Ajan Kloss and most people were busy setting up the power lines from the Tantive IV. The group was small as some had already left on recruiting missions to try and swell the numbers. You sighed and looked down at the two bands on your wrists, everyone wore these bands unless they had found their soulmate. The names tattooed on a person's wrists were a highly guarded secret and usually no one crossed that unspoken barrier. One name was that of your enemy and one was that of your soulmate and no one knew which was which, but you did. Your gaze was dragged to the band on your left wrist, the name there tingled, seared into your skin like a red scar, the letters jagged and pointy like daggers. That was your enemy's name, the enemy that had almost killed you all on Crait if it hadn’t been for Luke….
You looked over at Poe talking with General Organa and Finn, neither of the men had their bands on anymore not since they’d found each other and you were happy for them. A pang of longing stirred in your chest as you lifted your right hand to your mouth, the name on this wrist was that of your soulmate. A man you knew to be dead. The scar that ran through your soul was deep, a large wound left in the wake of his passing. It seemed like the entire Galaxy knew the story of the Skywalkers, of Leia and Han. Of their son, Ben. The whole Resistance knew the weight that Leia carried everyday, the loss of her son, and now her husband. You rolled your left wrist feeling the rise of nausea creeping up your throat, having his name permanently branded on you made your skin crawl. You had daydreamed a lot of what you would do if you ever came across Kylo Ren, he had stolen from you, taken something precious that could never ever be replaced. He had killed your soulmate and now you wanted to kill him.
You had no idea joining the Resistance would bring you on such a journey, you had almost died more than a few times the last time only happened a few days ago. You watched as Rey stepped her way towards the little group, her and Chewie had single handedly saved what was left of the Resistance right from under the nose of Kylo Ren. Poe had been crowing about it ever since and you were with him, anything to stick it to that awful man. The First Order was a plague that needed eradicating. You looked up as a transport glided through the atmosphere, the air from the engines stirring the tops of the trees before landing, the first wave of recruits was here. You dusted your hands of crumbs and stood up, there was work to do.
Months later found you sitting next to a medium size fire, surrounded by your friends as you all got drunk on some spotchka. The blue liquid burned horrendously, catching in your throat everytime but you enjoyed it, you imagined it numbed the pain you nursed all day everyday. You heard your name and you turned your gaze to Poe as he settled down next to you.
“You ok?” You nodded and plastered on that well practised smile you used to disarm anyone who asked that question.
“Yeah, it’s just been a busy few months you know? Feels good to relax a little.”
“You seem sadder than usual.” You sighed. Reports had been coming in about the First Order sweeping through the Galaxy, lives were being lost and there was nothing you could do, Kylo Ren’s reach was spreading, his power growing.
“Can I ask you something?” Poe nodded and you rested your hand gently on his wrist, the names on his skin were visible in the flickering fire light. “How did you know he was truly your enemy?” Poe’s eyes dropped down to look at the name you had your finger over.
“I’m not really sure, but I suppose I didn’t fully know until Finn rescued me. What’s this about? Have you met your soulmate?” You withdrew from him and looked back into the fire.
“No, my soulmate is dead. All that’s left is my enemy.” Poe sat there in stunned silence and you had no doubt he was trying to understand what you were feeling, but he had his soulmate. He knew for definite Armitage Hux was his enemy, you just assumed Kylo Ren was yours because he was leading the First Order charge. “I’m sorry, the drink is making my tongue loose. I should go to bed.” You looked over at Rey and Rose to say goodnight but the words got trapped in your throat as you noticed they didn’t have their bands on. Your heart sunk, and tears flooded your eyes, you were never going to have that. The feeling of belonging, the feeling of having someone, you were never going to experience that love and it angered you. Before you could control yourself you threw your cup into the fire, the flames flaring wildly from the alcohol and everyone turned to look at you as you stood. “That’s right, have a good gawk! Let’s all look at the soulmateless freak.” A sob beat your chest and you turned away, your feet carrying you out into the darkness. Closing your eyes, you rubbed your temple in frustration, this is why you shouldn’t drink.
“Hey,” you wiped your wet face as Rey approached you. She didn’t say anything else, she just stood next to you looking up at the stars that littered the wide expanse of space.
“I’m sorry….I shouldn’t have….I’m glad you’re happy.” She smiled, her face softening.
“You know I waited ages before I told her, and she never said anything because her tattoo just says Rey so she wasn’t sure it was me.”
“Same as Poe’s.” You commented and Rey nodded.
“I can feel your hurt. Did you know your soulmate?”
“I never met him,” you couldn’t keep the bitter tone out of your voice.
“Then how do you know he was your soulmate?”
“Because if the other one is my soulmate then the Galaxy has a really twisted sense of humour.” She studied you for a moment before speaking again.
“I know it goes against all the unspoken social rules, but you know I don’t do rules….” you looked over at her, the sound of your heart pounding in your chest was loud. You knew what she was asking without her saying the actual words and at first you felt revulsion. Revealing your soulmate name was such a personal thing, an intimate moment that should happen between the two souls only. But you were never going to get that. Your hand circled the band on your wrist as you toyed with the fabric, were you really going to do this? No one else had seen this name on your skin except you and a part of you wanted to keep it a secret forever, but you didn’t do rules either. You slowly began to slide the band off your wrist, your gaze locked with Rey’s, her hands rose and gently cupped yours in her palms. You clenched your jaw and tugged, you didn’t want to look down, you hated the way his name widened the scar inside you every time you saw it.
“Can I look?” She asked and you gave a quick nod before you lost your nerve. Your eyes stayed trained on her face, you saw the way her eyes widened, you heard her sharp intake of breath and you flinched as her finger trailed over the most sensitive part of your wrist. She slipped the band back over his name and to your surprise she smiled, even though it was tinged with sadness. “Can I…?” You swapped wrists, there was less hesitation this time but her reaction was more controlled, her eyes glassed over and her mouth set in a hard line as she gazed down at the angry red name of your enemy. “Don’t lose hope.” She said softly slipping the band back over your wrist. She went to turn away but you grabbed her arm.
“What do you mean?” You held out your right wrist, almost shoving it in her face. “He’s dead, everyone knows he’s dead, how can I not lose hope?” You growled through gritted teeth, the tears welling in your eyes again.
“I need to meditate and ask for guidance before….”
“What? Before what?”
“Before I can tell you what I know.” She slipped away leaving you feeling numb and even more alone in the darkness.
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You rubbed the band on your right wrist trying to find comfort but it didn’t work, Rey had told you he was alive, your soulmate. He was out there but she couldn’t tell you where. That was the last time you had seen her, she had left with Poe, Finn and Chewie on a secret mission and no one had heard from them in weeks.
You paused outside a closed door, resting your palm on the durasteel, you had shed so many tears your eyes couldn’t make anymore. You opened the door with a quiet whoosh and stepped into the silent space. You came here everyday, you hated the idea of her being alone laying in this room with that sheet over her face. You turned so the bed was behind you and started talking, telling Leia what was happening, how lost you all felt that the Falcon hadn’t returned yet. How you were all doing your best but her death echoed through the base so loudly everyday. The loss of hope was reflected in everyone’s eyes as you all went through the motions, but the fight was gone, it fled in the night like a shadow in the wind. Replaced with emptiness and despair. Your head whipped around as a sound you’d recognise anywhere reached your ears, you cast your eyes to the bed.
“They’re back!” You breathed before racing from the room.
You watched the ship land, Poe’s face was one of thunder as he stormed off the ramp closely followed by Finn and Chewie but no Rey. Fresh tears finally flooded your eyes as you were faced with the most difficult thing you’d ever had to do. You reached out to stop Poe but he shook you off, claiming he needed to speak to the General only pausing when a sob ripped your throat.
“You can’t! She’s gone!” You cried, seeing the pain on his face as he realised what you were saying made you cry harder, the hurt washed over you all over again. Your words hung in the air like a dead weight only punctuated by Chewie’s wounded cry, you wrapped your arms around yourself not able to contain the sobs that shook your body. You felt Finn envelop you from behind, his strong arms held you tightly as he tried to process. Poe stood to the side, his gaze looking at the floor as he fought an internal battle with his emotions, his red eyes flicked to you before he went to try and comfort Chewie but the Wookiee warned him off with a roar. You had no idea how you were all going to claw your way out of this pit but Leia had left the fight in Poe’s hands and he was going to need all the help he could get.
“Where’s Rey?” You finally managed to ask but Finn just shook his head.
“She left, we don’t know where. She left us.”
“Then there really is no hope,” you whispered.
“There is always hope.” Poe snarled as he began to head into the base. “I refuse to believe our fight ends here. We just have to keep going, we can’t just hand this over to them.” You both watched Poe stalk away.
“She fought Kylo Ren. She fought him and I think she killed him.” You studied Finn’s face, if that was the case then there was a reason to hope and Poe was right. You subconsciously rubbed your left wrist where his name was branded into your skin, you thought you’d feel a sense of relief that your enemy was dead but the whispers of doubt started to creep on the edges of your mind. You tried to ignore them, the final battle was coming and everyone had to play their part.
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You didn’t have time to feel as the ships began to fill the sky, some landed and you spent all your time making sure the injured were guided to where they needed to be. You handed out blankets, drinks and food, the talk of victory and the end of the war was the only topic of conversation. You had seen Poe and Finn and you were sure you’d seen Rey but someone else caught your eye. He was tall, very tall. He stood awkwardly to the side, his hazel eyes wide as he took in everything around him, he rolled his lips against his teeth in a nervous gesture and you began to head towards him.
“Here,” you offered him a drink and he took it with a slight smile. You’d never seen him before, you were sure you’d have recognised him if you’d seen him around the base, you had processed all the new recruits yourself so you knew he wasn’t one of those. Maybe he’d been on a ship that Lando had recruited, he didn’t look injured. His clothes were ripped and dirty, he sat down with a sigh and you saw his leg was stretched out awkwardly. “Are you injured?” You asked as you knelt before him reaching for his leg. He flinched, his large hand stopping your movement.
“I’m ok,” he mumbled.
“No, you’re injured. Beaumont get me a medpak over here!” You began to roll up his trouser leg, ignoring the way he tensed under your attention. “What’s your name?” You asked.
“Ben. Ben Solo.” Your hands carried on moving but your brain was stuck, his name made your soul tremble. The world fell away from you, fading into a grey lump of nothingness as you looked up at the man in front of you. His hazel eyes tracked over your face, his brows knitting together slightly as he tried to gauge your reaction. You didn’t see anything else, you just saw him, the freckles that dotted his skin like stars offering a constellation for your eyes to devour, the way his dark hair fell in soft waves to his shoulders, the tears in his baggy jumper, the shift of his frame from being under your intense scrutiny. His pink plush lips were moving but you couldn’t hear anything, because this was Ben Solo.
You jolted as Beaumont touched your shoulder letting you know he’d put a medpak at your feet, the sounds from the surrounding area came roaring back bringing you solidly back to the moment.
“You ok?”
“You’re Ben Solo.” He swallowed nervously and dipped his head.
“Yes,” he said softly, his eyes wide as he looked at you from under his hair. “If you don’t want to treat me I can do it myself.” You grabbed his hand, marvelling at the feel of his skin on yours, you traced the calluses on his palm watching his fingers flex at your delicate touch.
“I want to treat you.” You breathed finally releasing his hand. You finished rolling up his trouser leg, while you worked you couldn’t stop the flow of tears that cascaded down your face, you couldn’t believe he was here. Alive. He grunted as you pulled the splint tight against his leg. “That’s the most I can do until a medic can get to you.”
“Thank you. What’s your name?” A sob escaped you and he leaned forward, worry etched over his handsome face. “I’m sorry, this is a difficult time for everyone, here.” He moved slightly and allowed you to sit next to him as more sobs came, you couldn’t get a hold of them, barely able to breathe in between each one.
“You’re alive!” He closed his eyes as though he was in pain, like your words wounded him deeply.
“I know I’m sorry. There are many better people out there who should be here instead of me.”
“And right now you’re all I care about.” He turned slowly to look at you as though sure he’d misheard you.
“Me? Why?” You placed a hand on his arm hoping there weren’t any other Ben Solos in the Galaxy and this was actually the right one. You quietly said your name and watched in awe as comprehension dawned on his face, followed by a slight smile. Yes, this was your Ben Solo, your soulmate. You watched as he removed a band from his wrist, your name clearly displayed in what looked like your handwriting. Holding back the tears you removed your band showing him the name that was tattooed onto your skin. His fingers traced over the name on your skin and you shivered at his touch, your soulmates touch. His fingers laced with yours and you leaned your shoulder against him feeling the heat from his body. Your eyes wandered to the side and you saw Rey, she waved slightly a knowing smile on her face. You mouthed a ‘thank you’ even though you weren’t sure what she really did for him and you. Not until later.
You both sat in silence, just soaking everything in and a sense of peace settled over you both. Your search was over, the war was over and a life with your soulmate stretched out before you. You looked at each other sharing a special look, his eyes falling to your lips and you found yourself leaning into him. His nose brushed your cheek, his free hand coming up to gently stroke your face and your lips connected for the first time. The kiss was tender and lingering, he kissed you like you were the most precious person in the world to him even though you’d only just met. You thought your heart was going to explode with happiness as it pounded strongly in your chest. Your eyes opened when you broke apart, a wide smile splitting his face making his expression pure and open but as you watched it fell, the smile dimmed and his eyes looked down as though he was ashamed of feeling like this.
“What’s wrong?” You felt his hand try to leave yours and you gripped him tighter. “Talk to me.”
“I can’t…”
“Yes,” you forced his face to look at you, his warm eyes magnetising to yours straight away. “Yes you can. You can tell me anything.”
“You won’t look at me the same.” You could feel the panic begin to creep up inside you but you fought it down.
“I have waited so long for you,” you whispered. He sighed heavily, his eyes moving from yours.
“That makes it even worse.” He said as he stood. You watched him limp away, feeling the emptiest you’d ever felt. Was he rejecting you? You’d heard of it but it happened very rarely and only in extreme circumstances, soulmates not coming together. But you’d felt it, the connection between you only for him to turn his back on you. You, who had been thinking he was dead for years and now he was here. Actually here. You looked down at the name scrawled on your wrist and you realised you weren’t going to let him go without a fight.
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amoristt · 3 years ago
Text
Grazing the Fire | IV
well hello. here i am, four years later, once again enamored with nathan enough to finally dust this baby off and pick up where i left it. im a little rusty so bear with me this chapter! much more to come <3
reblogs + tags and replies will make my entire day as i put a lot of effort into this :)! it also helps motivate me!
story continues beneath the read more. let me know if you can’t access it!
Warning: language, very vague s/a mentions
want to support me? heres my kofi!
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“Alright class, who can tell me,” A board stick clacks against the chalkboard. “Who can answer problem four?” 
A few hands raise in the corners of your eye, but yours remains atop your desk. Eyes far away, mind in a murky haze and almost completely unaware. All you could focus on were the memories playing on repeat within the confines of your tired, tired brain. Hours ago, you were warm, you were comfortable. Safe.
Cheeks heated to a dusting blush when you remind yourself just how you had awoken that morning. At some point in the night, an angel had blessed you. Allowed you to wake up wrapped around none other than big, bad, Nathan Prescott. Your face nuzzled into his chest, broad but wiry hands pressed firmly over your shoulder and his arm slung over your waist to keep you against him. Thankfully you had been the first to wake up, blinking away the morning sun blazing through his blinds and painting the room stripes of gold. At that moment, before your headache came crashing down onto your skull, you were astounded by him. 
Eye lashes brushing the top of his cheeks, his lips parted ever so slightly, chest rising and falling rhythmically. In that moment, there was no anger, no bitterness. Just a soft and peaceful slumber. It was like being the sole viewer of a magnificent painting- each stroke and detail placed just there just for you to pick out, to remember the curves and sharp edges down to the very foundation. From his unkempt hair down to the way his hand flattened onto the mattress where your indent still lived. Nathan was so beautiful like this. 
For a long time you stayed there. It was as though you were afraid to move- you couldn’t bear to disturb him. You had wondered, if he was always like this, so at peace, what would he be like? Likely soft voiced, mild mannered. He’d do his school assignments without hassle and donate to the charity board. He would wander the town with his friends and listen to music in a beat up truck flying down the stretch of highway overlooking the bold, blue, and beautiful ocean. An entirely different version of himself- carefree, and a fair blue as opposed to a burning flame of red. 
But, if that were the case, you’d never have gotten here. You’d never been both the outsider, and the only seeing eye. A lucky, albeit firstly unwilling witness to the display of depth before you. 
It never hit you like it had quite in that moment how lucky you were.
But- just then- an alarm disturbed what serendipity existed. You nearly leapt out of your skin, clutched your hands to your chest at the sudden sound. A headache wove its way into your once untouched temples. Nathan groaned, mumbled, ‘god damn it’, under his breath, and thus his body was reanimated into life. He rubbed his eyes and he stretched, that familiar scowl coming over his eyes and lips as he took in the sunlight damn near blinding him. A polar opposite to the being you’d appreciated just moments earlier.
“Ugh, fuck, how the fuck is it seven already.” He groaned. “I feel like shit.”
“Well good morning to you too,” You started, welcoming Nathan into the world. “‘I’m feeling pretty shitty as well.” 
You said that, but really… You were more than alright. Your head had hurt, slight nausea crept into the wells of your stomach, but other than that you’re sure you were phenomenally better than you’d have been waking up whereverTate would have left your ass.
“You need to get outta here, before everyone gets up.” Nathan drawled, but he didn’t sound as urgent as you expected him to be. You’d expected him to be angry that you were still in his room, but instead he just… accepted it. 
You snickered, climbing out of his throne of a bed. “Wow, you’re giving me the morning after treatment?” 
“Sure am. Get outta here, whore.”
“Oh fuck you.” 
You located your heels from last night, resting upright near his dorm room door. Heels didn’t sound like the most  practical to sneak out of a dorm with, so you instead opted to grappling them by the straps and carrying them at your side. Hair a mess, outfit riddled with wrinkles and makeup smudged under your eyes, you stood before Nathan in all your glory. He stared at you for a long, odd moment- and you for some reason felt exposed, or even, shy. 
“What?” You ask expectantly, placing a hand on your hip. 
His eyes trail to your line of vision. He shakes his head. “Just thinking about how now you really do look like my morning after.”
“Yeah?” You hummed. “Find it hard to believe you get a lot of those.”
Nathan shoots you a suggestive glance. “You’d be surprised. Everyone wants a piece of Prescott.”
Surely, he was joking, or maybe he wasn’t, but you… Didn’t like hearing that. It made your stomach feel odd, uncomfortably heavy.  As he stood up, reminding you how many inches he had over your size, you swallowed and cleared your throat to flush out that crappy feeling. “Well,” you started, mood having dropped. “I’m gonna go, then.” 
“What got your panties in a twist all the sudden?” He asked, raising a brow and pulling some clothes from his closet, tossing them onto the bed.
The bed you two had shared.
You hated the idea of his morning afters- whoever they may be. 
“Not feeling great. Probably a side effect of the roofies.” You mumbled.
Nathan breathed a laugh. “Probably.”
He seemed so calm, right now. Perhaps due to it being so early, before the outside world had a chance to remind him just why he was so uptight all the tight. Before he needed to be so uptight all the time. He really did have so many versions of himself- all of whom you were slowly becoming familiar with. Compared to the person you’d believed him to be before your run ins, you’d never have assumed someone so dangerous could be so soft as last night, as this morning. In the beginning, you’d feared him. Avoided him like a plague, or a wild animal. Even when you were enraptured in the existence of him, you still wanted to keep away. You’d never have believed someone like you could wake up clutched to his chest, as though he were afraid if he released you, you’d be gone long before he woke. 
Then, a sudden thought struck your mind. 
He’d held you so tight. He’d welcomed you in the morning. No anger, no annoyance. His soft laugh at your banter and taunts. How your heels were standing upright instead of tossed haphazardly into some random corner, where he’d watch your struggle to find. 
How he’d stayed awake to ensure your sleep.
“So are you just gonna stand there?” Nathan called you back to reality, hands gripping the hems of his shirt. “I gotta get ready and you need to wash up so you don’t look like a five dollar stripper.” Cruel words, but with absolutely no bite. You rolled your eyes.
“Yeah. But, hey,” You started. “Thank you for last night.” 
“Yeah, yeah. You gotta start learning to watch your own back.” He says. “There’s gonna be times I won’t be there to drag your ass out of the fire.”
If you’d been charged, if you’d been stricken with a strange defensiveness, you’d have retorted, ‘than stop helping me’, but… Instead you allowed yourself the comfort of protection. You allowed Nathan Prescott to watch you.  
“I know,” You reached for the door. “Thank you.”
With that, you bounded out of the dorm silent as a mouse. 
-----------
In hindsight, you should have left earlier. Class was merely 15 minutes away when you slipped out of Nathan's room and bounded towards the women's dorm. Albeit not exactly a long walk, by the time you discreetly snuck back into your own dorm, you had roughly twenty minutes to somehow pick an outfit from your countless unopened boxes and make yourself even slightly presentable. 
Wiping off whatever make-up you could get and reapplying it, brushing out the tangles of your hair and nearly tearing off your scalp in the process, scattering your nightclothes over your floor and managing to scrounge out a semi-decent outfit for the day… You still looked a mess. If the mirror could laugh, it would have. Black mascara smudges under your eyes and frizzy untreated hair. What a lovely look. 
You’d made it to class just five minutes late, but those five minutes were all it took for all eyes to be on you as you tried to slide into the classroom unnoticed. A couple classmates whispered to their table mates as you passed by, smelling of oversaturated cherry blossom perfume to hopefully cover the scent of alcohol. You sauntered to your seat and sank down with all your weight, suddenly exhausted. You’d made it with just five minutes tainting your record of attendance. The teacher greeted you with a disappointed sigh, and thus, the day began. 
But, it was so hard to focus. All you could think about was Nathan. 
“Alright class, who can tell me,” A board stick clacks against the chalkboard. “Who can answer problem four?” 
You lowered your head. 
“Ah, how about, ___?”
You snaked back into reality, blinking up at the chalk board that was somehow already riddled with math equations. Since you hadn’t been paying attention even in the slightest, your mouth gaped wide open, eyes scanning for something you understood even slightly so you didn’t look like a total idiot. 
Sadly, you were out of luck. The teacher shook his head. “I’m shocked,” He said. “You're normally so on top of things. Oh well.”
“Oh, I’m sure she was on top of things,” A female voice sniggered behind you “Last night.”
Your face flushed a red, hot, ruby. What the hell was she talking about? How had they found out you were with Nathan? You were so sure of being sneaky, there was no way-
“Her and Tate totally got it on last night.”
You whipped around in your seat, facing girls who looked to be clones of some sort. Both with the same dark eyes, short brown hair, and freckles. “What?”
“Alright-” Your teacher blurted. “That's enough. April, May, enough. Let’s not discuss things outside of the classroom.”
The two girls batted their eyes. “Sorry sir.” One spoke, twirling a hand through her hair. Her sister's wide toothy grin never fumbled. 
“Back to it then. Kate, can you help out __ with number four?” 
The small, blonde girl nodded quickly, brushing a lock of hair behind her eyes and offering an empathic nod. 
As you turned around in your seat, her answer fell on deaf ears. Your heart was racing in your chest, hands balled into fists while you stared ahead blankly.  
They couldn’t seriously think that you chose to leave with Tate, could they? Surely someone must have seen the state you were in. Someone other than Nathan.
The clock ticks forward but time feels like it's passing almost unnaturally slow. With just 10 minutes left, you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket.
‘Nathan: consider ur favor officially returned 
Your tongue poked from your lips, the tiniest of smiles taking over your once sullen features. Terrible thoughts and worries flew out the window while you type back, ‘damn. here i was gonna to ask you to do a backflip off the roof with me. there goes my plans.’
Nathan types for a moment. Typing, stopping, typing again. 
‘Nathan: soundz like a blast. where and when?’
A small blush heats your cheeks. ‘very funny. thanks to last night i have an entire 24 hour session of studying to catch up with.’
His response is almost instant. ‘Nathan: boringgg. txt me when ur fun.’
Rolling your eyes, you shove your phone back into your pocket. It seems you’ve been able to secure enough of a friendship with him for some mindless banter even outside your little visits. You smile. He’s… Fun to talk to. Surprisingly. 
Class comes to an end and you start to pack up the books and papers you’d hardly even glanced at the whole period. Whatever had been upsetting you before is lost in your mind while you think of the morning, the night before. All the things in-between. But, your happiness doesn’t last long. As you get up, you’re almost forced right back into your seat as a weight shoves into your shoulder. Your books scatter to the floor. April, the one who’d remarked about you earlier, glares at you in what looks to be disgust. 
“Careful April,” Her sister hums as she saunters past you, keeping distance and raising her already shrill tone of voice. “Might wanna watch where you’re walking- I’d hate for you to catch something from this slut.”
You absolutely gawk at her. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”
April scoffs. “Oh come on, like everyone doesn’t know what you were up to last night.”
“Sleeping around isn’t a good color on you.” May hikes her bag over her shoulder and snickers at you. They both leave the class together, sickeningly in sync. You’re left stunned where you stand, unsure how the hell your life came to this so quickly. How you’ve stooped so low that the daughters of the world's most uncreative parents are able to bully you based on something that didn’t even happen.
Next class goes no better. The person to your right, a jockey looking brunette guy, asks, ‘have you ever heard of a Tate?’. You say no, that that’s the dumbest name you’ve ever heard. The idiot grins and goes back to marking down likely wrong answers on his test sheet and you debate kicking the leg of his chair out- but you don’t to avoid even more eyes on you. It makes you sick to your stomach- even more than recovering from the roofies does. How can everyone believe it? You barely even knew the guy and you were clearly uncomfortable with his advances. No one saw that? 
After everything you’d worked for to build a reputation, trying so hard to not call out peoples shit for the sake of seeming friendly, tainted over something that didn’t even happen? And the kicker was that it hadn’t even been your fault! He’d drugged you, he’d have taken advantage of you! Yet you were the bad person? 
Class came and went in the blink of an eye this time. Your mind wrapped up in the situation, your stomach churning. You wanted the day to be over with but you still had 4 more classes to suffer through. Why was this happening to you? Was Tate being treated just as horribly, or was he getting pats on the backs of his unaware friends?
Wandering down the halls to your locker, you noticed Lance and Kaz hanging around one of the drinking fountains. Your nerves quelled- your friends would surely make you feel much better. Especially since they had witnessed how awful you were feeling as you left. You approach with a relieved smile, ready to say your truth and finally have someone on your side.
“Hey guys.” You smile, but Lance looks down at his feet while Kaz places her hands to his hips. Your smile fades.
“You could have told us you were gonna spend the night with Tate,” Kaz snaps. “You didn’t need to lie like that just to leave. We were all worried about you and it was for nothing.”
“What?” You feel like you could cry. “No, Kaz, I really did try to leave. Tate tried to drug me and take me home, and-”
“He wouldn’t do that.” Lance interrupts, with a frown. He looks back down at the floor with knitted brows. “I’ve known Tate since before time. He wouldn't do something like that, especially not to one of my best friends. Plus he told me he was really into you. Why would he even try?”
“Are you serious?” You sputter. “You think I’d lie about something like that?”
“You’ve been lying about all sorts of things!” Kaz huffs. “What’s going on with you lately? You’ve been so distant, and secretive. What are you hiding that’s making you lie like this? We’re supposed to be your friends and then you lie to our faces just to go and fuck the first guy that shows you attention.”
“What…?” It was like acid. It was like the rug had been pulled from your feet sending you spiraling down the unending cliff. Kaz, your best friend, all that venom. How could they turn against you like this? What the hell is going on? You felt your throat tighten. “Look, I’m sorry if I’ve been distant, but I’m not lying to you, I-”
“We gotta go.” Lance isn’t in the mood to hear it. “We’ll catch up to you.. Some other time.”
Kaz says nothing as she pushes past you. Lance, at least, spares a short glance over his shoulder. You stood there alone in the hallway, your bag falling off your shoulder and clattering onto the floor with a thud echoing off the walls. Everything you had, all gone at once. 
No one believed you.
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With nowhere to go where you felt like you could truly allow yourself to process the day's events, you went to the only place you knew. 
Just outside of campus, where rocks lined the edge of the boundary, overlooking the outskirts of the town and the ocean stretching as far as the eye could see. You settled yourself there, staring at the vast waters and wondering how this had all happened. Unlucky didn’t even begin to cover how it felt. Not only did you feel violated with Tate attempting to do unthinkable things with your unconscious body, but you also felt alone, and walked on. Your best friends hadn’t believed you. While Lance seemed saddened, Kaz was so… Angry. Her words cut like knives into your skin. 
It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair. You didn’t deserve this.
You want to talk to Nathan, but knowing him, he’d see your state and bounce instantly. After all, this isn’t exactly very fun of you.
As the sun began to fall, splaying orange and blues over the wide open sky, behind you, you could hear voices. A group of them, some male, some female. Memories of when your notebook had gotten snatched by those two horsed face assholes came flooding back and with all your alertness, you stood up, and decided that this sitting place was no longer safe. Nothing was.
Before you even made it ten feet away, the group had found their way to your spot and gotten comfortable, one of the girls cheering, ‘this’ll be our hangout! look at how pretty the view is!’
You took a short drive down the stretches of road and decided that if you were going to lament in your own sadness, you were at least going to do so in a place that had something to cover the sound of your tears. Plus a nice view.
The beach, littered with its picnic tables and the sounds of crashing waves would suffice just fine. So, you pulled in the desolate parking lot and wandered down the sandy shores until you stumbled upon a picnic table shaded by a large willow cascading lushious branches to block out the sun- a perfect canopy for you to wallow under. 
You had nothing at that moment. No friends, no reputation, no one to believe your tragic tale. And now, you’d just lost the one spot that made you feel comfortable when stress was building into your body like concrete. Tears pricked into the corners of your eyes and you bit your lip, dreading that feeling of a lump in your throat. Why you? Everything had been going so well. How could not even a single person believe that Tate had tried to hurt you?
Well, actually, there was one person.
Of course Nathan believed you. He’d been the one to rescue you, after all. Time and time again it seemed.  How was it that even the ones closest to you would turn their back so fast, yet Nathan seemed to be there even when you didn’t want him to be? Even when you yelled at him, and he yelled right back, fire and sparks falling into embers around the two of you. 
In that moment, you almost felt like you could finally relate to him. A reputation based on lies and things out of your control, paired with a hardheaded attitude to try and combat all the assumptions. 
No wonder he was so angry. 
“Hey bitch,” A voice suddenly called, and you had a split second moment where you were terrified of once again being the victim of a cruel prank or some classmates boredom. “How about next time you have a pity party you don’t fucking call me in the middle of it.”
You blinked away your tears and through the blurriness saw a figure coming towards you. All that sass, the tone...
“Nathan?” You breathed. It only takes moments before he’s in front of you, holding his phone in view, seeing that the call that had been running for nearly ten minute. You flush in embarrassment, pulling your phone from your back pocket. “How did that happen?”
“Well, can your ass dial numbers?” He taunts, ending the call. 
“Damn it, dumb phone must have butt-dialed you. I knew I should’ve gotten a different one.” You mentally kick yourself. “It must have unlocked in my pocket.”
“You don’t have a password on your phone?” He taunts. When you shake your head, he whistles. “You are just begging for a robbery. I’ll keep that in mind when I’m in the mood to send random messages to all your buddies.” 
“Fuck off.” You scowl, and he grins, hopping up on the picnic table next to you. The sun flatters his skin. He’s almost glowing. 
“Speaking of buddies, how the hell did it pick my number out of your sea of friends?”
You shrug. “Probably cuz’ it’s a priority contact.” 
“Oh lala, I’ve been upgraded to priority huh? Does it display a superman logo whenever you give it a ring?”
“Nope. When I press call it rings the nearest asshole in my vicinity. The fact that it’s you is your own problem.”
“Haha, fucking ha.” He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. He stares out at the water, watching waves pull and crash onto the beach. It’s almost beautiful, until he ruins it. “Yknow, you’re a really ugly crier.”
“Wow, thanks.” You shake your head. “That's exactly what I needed to hear right now. Why did you even stay on the line?.” Wiping your eyes, you start to forget your tears. “Couldn’t have been that wild of a conversation.”
Nathan shrugs. “Between the crying and the sound of the waves it was pretty nice.” He grins. “Very educational.” 
“Awesome. Glad I was able to make your day.” It doesn’t feel like your usual bitey remarks. You’re tired, you’re still a little hurt and you can’t stop thinking about how such an amazing morning had turned into such a horrible day.
“So what’s got you all fucked up? Never seen you act like this big of a baby before.”
“Nothing. You already paid off your debt to me per this morning, so feel free to resume our regularly scheduled mutual hatred.” You say, lying through your teeth. You know you’re both past the point of hatred, but you’re feeling jaded, you can’t help it. 
“Oh shut the fuck up,” He groans. “I didn’t drag my ass all the fucking way out to this shit hole of a beach just for you to give me that bullshit. What, did you fail a test? No one matched you on tinder?”
“Everyone thinks me and Tate slept together last night.” You blurt. “I think he’s telling people me and him had sex.”
Nathan tenses his shoulders and grimaces. “Fucking werido.”
“I told my best friends that he tried to take advantage of me and they don’t believe me. One of em’ even said he wouldn’t do something like that.”
“Fuck em’. Who needs best friends.”
“And to make everything so much better, these two bitches that I share four of my classes with harassed me all goddamn day. I mean, fucks sake, how the hell are girls named April and May of all things able to get to me. It’s bullshit. And to make matters worse, Tate is just… Getting away with it.”
“Yeah well, something tells me that Tate’s gonna get a real nice fucking taste of medicine eventually. I just gotta find him first. He’s got a lot of nerve spreading shit around given I knocked his ass onto the pavement.” Nathan brows knit at the memory.
You test the waters. “Why would you do that for me?”
He seems caught off guard, or maybe, surprised that you’d ask. Maybe he thinks you’re both beyond that point. He grumbles, “Why does it matter.”
“I’m just curious. We don’t owe each other anything, remember?”
“Yeah, well,” He huffs. “Don’t ask me questions to shit I don’t know the answer to.”
“You say that an awful lot.” You tease.
“Yeah well you ask dumbass questions an awful lot. Not everything I do has to have some weird ass motives behind it, ___. Maybe I’ve got beef with Tate that’s outside of you.”
“Uhuh. Sure.” You’re about to say something else, when your phone lights up with a text. The display makes your heart fall all over again. 
Unknown Number: you should just pack up and go somewhere else. no one wants std’s from breathing your air xoxo
You don’t even know who that is. Now absolute strangers are on your case. You want to throw your phone into the ocean and leave.
Nathan scoffs. “Don’t even bat a fucking eye for that bitch, whoever the hell they are. Half the hoes you’ve mentioned have slept with half the football team,” he pinches his jacket, “and I would know.”
“Ew, Nathan,” You grimace, that same feeling from the morning returning. It feels, oddly, like jealousy.  He nudges your arm with his elbow and grins playfully. It’s cute.
“Chill, I’m just fucking with you. You gotta know even I wouldn’t fuck girls that desperate. I’m a man of class.”
That last comment actually forces a laugh from you. It’s soft, but it’s real. The first laugh you’ve genuinely had all day. “That’s horrible.” You remark, giggling again.
It's almost like the slight restoration of your mood puts him at ease as well. He leans back on his hands and stares off into the ocean, those sparkling waters under the setting, orange sun. “I’m for real though. Those hoes aren’t worth your time. One day when we blow this shithole of a town they’re not even gonna matter.”
Your brows knit, eyes blinking up at him. Had you heard that right? 
“We?” You ask, perplexed, albeit a little… Hopeful.
Nathan sputters. “Well- Like, when everyone’s older and-”
“You know what, it's fine.” You interrupt. “Fuck it. You’re right. We’re gonna blow this town and they’re just gonna be some shitty memories.”
He sucks in a shaky breath. You’ve never heard him scramble like that, like he’s been unmasked. The look he casts you when you agree, when you don’t tease or patronize and finally hop on the idea that yeah, what if the two of you really didn’t have to deal with it anymore.
What if the two of you could just exist, without the anger. 
You look up at him. “Would you actually do that though?” You start. “With me, of all people?”
He swallows. His expression is tense, but he’s not upset. He appears nervous, caught off guard. Nathan tries, “I-”
Your phone rings. Shrill, piercing. Mood destroying. 
“Jesus Christ, it’s my mom.” You grab your phone and Nathan looks forward, stone faced and silent as you hop off the table and answer. It’s your mother, who all but shouts into the phone that her and your father are taking a surprising visit to Arcadia Bay while they’re traveling by on their vacation. She insists that you be ready in about an hour for dinner, and likely there will be family photos. 
Which means if you still look as wrecked as you did this morning, you’re gonna have a lot of washing up to do. With a quick goodbye, a short and sweet, ‘love you’, you hang up and sigh. 
“You still tell your mom you love her?” He teases. “What are you, five?”
You frown. “You don’t tell your parents you love them?”
Nathan side eyes you, and just shrugs. It is all the answer you need, really, and for his sake you decide it wouldn’t be best to press the issue. Not now. But- it still makes your heart hurt just a little. You wished that he’d had it better growing up. 
“Right… Do you want a ride home?”
“Fuck no, what am I,” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “a fucking girl scout?” 
“I was just offering, weirdo.” When he doesn't get up, you feel like you’re missing out. Like if you stayed, maybe, just maybe, you’d get to know him a little better. “Hey, if you want, I can stay for a bit longer.”
He rolls his eyes. “You’re needed elsewhere. But,” he shrugs. “I don’t know. Fuckin’... Text me or something. Or not, I don’t care either way.”
There’s a small warmth in your chest that rises to your cheeks. He wants you to text him. “Yeah,” You say. “If I’m feeling fun.”
And with that, you bid him farewell, beginning your descent to the parking lot. 
“Hey,” He calls, and you turn just in time to catch a small item he’s tossed right at you. A tiny key resides in the palm of your hand. “Spare. If shit hits the fan again-...” He shrugs, and actually looks away. “Just don’t be too fucking loud of I’ll kick your ass out myself. No Madison needed.”
The widest grin plays over your lips. “I’m gonna re-decorate your room while you’re gone.”
“Ah, you fucking better not.” He shouts. “Actually- you know what, give it back.” 
“No, no! I’m sorry.” You play with the key between your fingers. “Thanks for this.”
“Yeah, whatever. Don’t lose it and remember- emergencies only. I don’t need you watching me sleep like fucking freak. We’re past that stage.” 
“How many times will I have to say I was never watching you. Christ… But, alright. See ya, then.” The key is heavy in your palm. 
You place it into your pocket and give him one last glance before you take off, leaving him to enjoy the sound of waves, birds, and the absence of your tears.
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xadoheandterra · 2 years ago
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Series: Semblance Title: Patriciate Fandom: Jak and Daxter Chapters: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX | X | XI | XII | XIII | XIV | XV | XVI Characters: Jak, Daxter, Samos, Keira, Kid!Jak, Ashelin, Torn, Tess Tags: Worldbuilding, Accidentally King of Haven!Jak, hurt/comfort, things go wrong, things get better, things get worse again, slow build, slow burn, slow to update, cross posted, fantasy racism, canon divergence, been meaning to share this here Summary: “It’s yours,” Jak said softly. “Keep it…remember where you come from. At least one of us should remember….”
If Jak knew the consequences of that one, selfish choice…well, he’d probably have made the same decision either way.
Jak takes a trip up to the power station. He is not pleased.
​“Bring him home, Jak.”
Jak breathed out heavily as he stared at the wreck that was the Industrial District. Daxter, on his shoulder, remained eerily silent as they looked out at the wreckage. Half-on-fire zoomers still littered the ground alongside metal head bodies, puddles of dark eco, and elfin corpses alike. When Ashelin and Torn flew Jak and the others back into the city nobody got a really good look at the damage except for the Stadium, Main Town, and the Waterfront. He focused on the immediate, and by the time they’d gotten back anyway most of the cleanup they already found accomplished. Now Jak couldn’t help but wonder if putting off this expedition for so long merely meant he attempted to hide from what he knew to be there.
Nobody mentioned the other districts, really, and Jak doubted they’d even want to. Not if the Industrial district looked like this. Jak fought down the urge to flinch and instead picked his way around the zoomers and corpses. Each time he passed a pool of dark eco he could feel his lungs burn as his body subconscious absorbed everything within reach.
“You gonna be okay?” Daxter asked quietly to his ear, but in the silence the words were frighteningly loud.
“Yeah,” Jak replied through gritted teeth.
“My fur itches,” Daxter complained.
“My skin burns,” Jak said back, and then they lapsed into silence. “We gotta do this.”
“Vin deserves it,” Daxter agreed, and ducked his head.
“They all deserve it,” Jak countered as he stepped around a mangled corpse pinned underneath a zoomer.
“What do you think the slums looks like?” Daxter asked, voice a bit faint. “The water slums?”
“I don’t want to think about it, Dax,” Jak whispered.
They continued the trek in silence, and Jak wondered how many people knew the state of the rest of Haven. Did Ashelin know the extent of the destruction? Did Torn? How many survivors were stuck behind walls and barricades of red, green, and yellow? Jak clenched his hands tight around his gun and girt his teeth. This was his city for better or worse, now, and nobody thought fit to tell him a thing. They were more worried about his knowledge of the political scene.
“Shit, Jak,” Daxter breathed as they inched their way up to the second level. Whole sections of the walkway appeared to have collapsed, probably from some abnormally large metal bug. Jak sucked in a sharp breath and picked his way across the crumbling path. He made sure to set each jump down as gingerly as he could, and swallowed heavily at each ruined wall and zoomer.
“Yeah,” Jak said hoarsely.
“D’you think anyone’s trapped?” Daxter questioned as they slipped around a still on-fire Hellcat—how they remained on fire Jak didn’t want to know. All of the flames by now should be burnt out, right? “D’you think the fighting’s even stopped here?”
“I don’t know, Dax,” Jak replied. “I don’t know.”
“This’ gotta change.”
“Yeah.”
Toward the last stretch before the power station, and Jak wondered how they even got the communications tower back up and running if the Industrial district still looked this bad, Jak monkeyed himself over a few construction beams that helped hold the walkway up in the first place, and slipped around yet another crashed zoomer. His ears twitched, some sort of faint sniffling sound—a gas leak, or water leak, or something—caught his attention.
“You hear that?” Jak asked lowly. He crouched down and shifted his feet so that they were a bit wider as his fingers adjusted the mod on the gun.
“Sounds like cryin’,” Daxter said back. “You think there’s a kid?”
“I was thinking more like a gas leak,” Jak muttered and carefully stepped around the zoomer. He nudged the wreck with his gun and winced at the unholy sound it unleashed, which almost drowned out the frightened scream. Daxter bolted from his shoulder and Jak jerked with a shout of, “Dax!”
“Jak there’s a kid!” Daxter hollered back from the hole he’d wiggled into. Jak cursed loudly and quickly holstered the gun.
“Alright, alright,” he breathed out sharply and tried to shove down the twist of the dark eco, the rage at this mess from overwhelming him. “Kid okay? Kid hurt? C’mon Dax, speak to me.”
“Scraped and banged up,” Daxter called back. “Broken wrist? Arm? I can’t tell. S’too dark.”
Jak scrubbed a hand down his face and closed his eyes. His breath shuddered and he tried to think of someone, anyone, that could be a calming influence. His mind kept on jumping over to Ashelin and Torn and the Council and possibly ripping people a whole new one. He grit his teeth.
“Okay,” Jak said. “Okay. Can you get the kid out?”
“Maybe?”
“Get ‘em over to a zoomer,” Jak instructed. “One of the wrecks, we’ll salvage it. Or something. I’ll check out the Power Station, find Vin. We’ll…figure something out.” Jak cursed. “Precursors!” He stomped over to the door to Vin’s Power Station a bit unneeded, but it helped burn off the twisted feeling beneath his skin.
Jak flexed his fingers and wanted to curse as the tips burned with the same intensity of his mouth. He didn’t doubted that his nails were now blackened, or that his canines elongated. He didn’t even question it, because the sparks of dark eco that leaped off of him as he reached toward the rubble that blocked the doorway told him enough already. He could feel his head throb, feel the burn of horns that itched beneath his skull. Jak let out a frightening roar as he tossed aside what blocked the doorway, eyes dark as pitch. He heaved, his arms and legs shook. Off in the distance he could hear a resounding crash and winced—he wondered if he’d hit a survivor? Perhaps killed someone again without thinking, without realizing—Jak hissed between his teeth and gripped at his ears—his scarf prevented him from actually grabbing his hair—and pushed the burn down.
Not now. Not now precursors damn it all. It felt like a thousand ants raced along his veins and muscular tissue. Each breath felt like he breathed in gravel. Jak shuddered and moved toward the door—he couldn’t lose control here. Outside, outside of Haven, away from people maybe. Maybe. The Forest no doubt—he could find metal bugs aplenty there and truly let loose, truly let everything he forced himself to seal away now free. With that silent promise Jak shouldered the rest of the way into the Power Station and had to stop.
Metal heads, metal bugs, dark eco by what felt like tankards. Jak stumbled, dizzy. The mere scent of it all so overwhelmingly painful it forced him to his knees. He let out a faint keening cry and tried to rub his hands over his face, tried to ignore the way his body felt bloated and ballooned around his skeleton. Jak bit his lip, tried to focus on the pain and past the mess—past the burnt out consoles and the sparking electronics.
Vin. He came here for Vin. Jak breathed in sharply, coughed hard enough to burst a blood vessel in his throat and spat out what little blood gathered in his mouth. He shoved aside the metal heads nearest to him and looked hard for wherever Vin could be. He had to be here somewhere—somewhere—
A boot. Jak reached blindly for it, shoved away the two metal heads that blocked his view, and unearthed pants, a leg, an arm—Jak grit his teeth. He shoved away what he could and—there, there Vin lay.
“H-Hey buddy,” Jak mumbled. “Sorry it took…so long.” He didn’t know what Vin wore on his head, but it looked tacky and the design bulky. Jak figured it for some kind of last defense Vin made, not that it did any good once the shield wall went down. “Gonna…take you back home, okay?”
Despite the ruined state of the room, electronics, and the numerous corpses Vin looked almost pristine. Even with the tears in his clothes and the obvious killing blow Jak couldn’t find anything that even suggested the metal heads got any further than just hitting him the once. He breathed out heavily and grasped at Vin’s corpse, before he hailed it up and onto his shoulder. Exhausted, dizzy, and definitely oversaturated with more dark eco than he could remember getting stuffed into his body for a long time, Jak stumbled out of the power station.
He stumbled all the way over to the zoomer Daxter hotwired, carefully arranged Vin in the backseat, behind the sniffling kid, and picked his way back toward the Palace.
Ashelin came tearing out of the Palace the minute Jak pulled up in the stolen and hotwired zoomer. She looked infuriated, but Jak ignored her in favor of the kid in the front seat, and Vin in the back. He helped Daxter get the kid out of the zoomer, and then reached over and hauled Vin up onto his shoulder.
“Where the hell have you been?!” Ashelin demanded. Jak brushed past her with Vin, one hand gently guiding the trembling child while Daxter held the kid’s uninjured arm and chatted soothingly away. “Five days Jak! I’ve been looking everywhere for you for five days and don’t you dare ignore me!”
Jak slipped through the open doors to the Palace, carefully laid Vin down on one of the couches in the open foyer that served both as a trophy room for Baron Praxis back when he had control, and a receiving room that intimidated guests. The woman behind the front counter gasped at the sight of the corpse, and at the way Jak carefully handled it. Not even a second after making sure Vin’s body lay comfortably did the elevator doors open and Zoe come tearing through them faster than anyone her age should. Jak looked up at her, still ignoring Ashelin’s continued tirade, and tiredly spoke up for the first time since he unearthed Vin’s corpse.
“I brought him home, Zoe,” Jak breathed out. Ashelin fell completely silent when he spoke. “Like I promised.”
Zoe stumbled as she slowed down, and then without heed to her clothes or how it might look to others, she threw herself over towards Vin’s corpse and let herself cry. Jak closed his eyes, pressed his lips together, and breathed out sharply through his nose. When he opened his eyes he directed them right to Ashelin, and she could see the purple bleeding black that began to overtake them.
“We need to talk,” Jak said, and his voice sounded a bit rougher. “Now, Ashelin.”
Ashelin swallowed heavily, glanced to Vin and the sobbing Matriarch that named Jak King back in the council chambers almost a week ago, and without a word promptly turned on heel and headed toward the elevators. Jak nudged the boy at his side along and gestured to the receptionist calmly.
“Lyra, get a hold of Samos and bring him here,” Jak said, eyes hard as he tugged his scarf off from his head. “Have a couple of packs of green eco delivered upstairs with him.”
Lyra the receptionist nodded quickly and Jak followed Ashelin into the elevator with the kid and Daxter. Ashelin stood stiff off to the side, and she looked fit to burst but kept her mouth shut. Jak felt grateful for that; he knew he looked frightening at the moment. With forced calm Jak settled against the back rail of the elevator, watched the doors slid shut, and waited. It didn’t even take a minute before Ashelin whirled around.
“Where the hell have you been?” she demanded.
“Why didn’t anyone tell me that half the city remained in ruins?” Jak said slowly. He side-eyed Ashelin who looked like she swallowed a lemon for a moment. “Why didn’t anyone tell me that half the city hadn’t been cleaned up?”
“We’ve been busy—” Ashelin started.
“Going over useless crap,” Jak spat. “How many people are trapped, Ashelin, without food, water, or supplies?” He turned fully this time, teeth ground together. “How many injured? How many dead?”
“Jak that isn’t—”
“You made me King!”
Ashelin jerked back, and the kid at Jak’s side whimpered. Jak breathed out slowly, closed his eyes, and forced the burn of eco back. He clenched one hand at his side and kept the other relaxed enough to rub soothing circles against the kid’s back.
“You made me King, Ashelin,” Jak said softer. When he opened his eyes they were barely tinged purple. “You put me in charge of this entire city. Do you think I care about learning the most prominent families when there are still people dying out there?”
“We drop supplies regularly,” Ashelin said. She kept her voice soft, almost soothing. “Shipments of food, water, anything we can spare.”
“Spare?” Jak shook his head. “Out of all the districts which ones do you think were hit the hardest? Main Town? The noble houses? The Waterfront? The Stadium? Or was it the Industrial district? The Bazaar? The slums?”
Ashelin swallowed.
“How many people are trapped in buildings half collapsed, starving and drying from disease and dark eco poisoning? How many children?” Jak questioned, lips pressed thin. “The shield wall hasn’t even been fully repaired yet, how many metal heads still roam streets? How many people die while you force me to learn useless facts about a government that sits on its laurals?”
“Jak…” Ashelin picked her words carefully. “You have…you can’t make changes so easily. There’s protocols…the council has to approve things—I have a point to this, Jak. I do.”
Jak turned away.
“Get together the Underground, their KG minders, and start cleaning up the other districts,” Jak said. He completely ignored Ashelin’s words. “Starting with the industrial sections. We need that shield up and fully functional. Move refugees to the Waterfront and Stadium, and Main Town.”
“Jak you can’t—”
“Are you in charge of the KG or not, Lady Praxis?” Jak demanded sharply and Ashelin fell silent. “Am I not your King?” She swallowed, the doors to the elevator opened, and Jak carefully ushered the kid out. “Go and start recovery efforts. We’ve wasted enough time.”
“But what will we—”
“I’ll handle it.”
Ashelin shoved herself toward the elevator doors before they could close.
“How?!” she demanded. “How will you handle it?”
Jak paused, then glanced back at her. “You have three hours to get the KG and the Underground moving. In three hours everyone from the Sage lines will meet here for an emergency session. Am I clear?”
“But—”
“Am I clear, Ashelin?” Jak demanded, tone a bit sharper, and Ashelin jerked.
“Yes,” she bit out. Jak nodded, turned back around, and led the kid toward his rooms. He kept the careful façade of calm the rest of the way. There was way too much to do, right now, and first priority was to make sure the kid was healed up and had a place to go. He’d deal with everything else—and whether they listened—after that.
Ashelin stomped into her rooms within the Palace, a veritable cloud of rage storming around her. She breezed past the couch where Torn lounged, face drawn and tired as he stared at the television without really seeing it. She practically stomped all the way to her office and slammed the door shut with a loud bang. On the couch Torn pulled his hands over his face, twisted around, and got to his feet.
“Ashe?” Torn called. He leaned his back against the office door and knocked. “Ashe?” He could hear a thump, and the door rattled a bit. Torn sighed. “Don’t throw shit at the door, Ashe.”
“Fuck off!”
Torn groaned. “Ashelin what is going on?” The door shook again, and this time Torn could hear something shatter. Within the office Ashelin cursed, and wisely Torn shifted from the path of the doorway just in time for a knife to slice through it. “Ashelin what the hell is going on?”
For a moment, silence, and then the door yanked open and Ashelin stared at Torn with fury. The red of her eyes almost twisted with the eco Torn knew resided within her very blood, and Torn wanted to grimace. Out of everyone that he or Ashelin knew only a small handful of people could get her this worked up, and given the way things recently worked out Torn could bet on at least two people who pissed Ashelin off.
“Where is he?” Torn asked, arms crossed over his chest. He wasn’t even dressed for this shit right.
“In his rooms,” Ashelin ground out.
“And what did he do?” Torn asked. Besides disappear for five days. Ashelin stared at Torn for a long moment, then closed her eyes and breathed out slowly. Torn relaxed the slightest bit; if Ashelin was trying to calm herself then whatever it was definitely meant good things down the road.
That didn’t mean of course whatever got her pissed wasn’t good for the immediate situation.
“I have been commanded to move out the Underground and the KG,” Ashelin said, and her teeth were grit together.
Torn breathed out heavily and closed his eyes. “Well,” he said tiredly, “it was only a matter of time before he found out.”
“We don’t have the manpower for a rescue!” Ashelin practically shrieked. Torn jerked away from her and frowned.
“We don’t have the manpower because over half of our forces are still trapped and in need of that rescue, Ashe.” Ashelin’s mouth clicked shut. “You and I both know that we should have taken care of the other districts over a week ago.”
“But the council—” Ashelin protested.
“The council only cares for its own interests,” Torn pointed out. “Ashe, you know this.”
Ashelin looked away and scowled.
“Are you upset he gave you an order, or are you upset you couldn’t get this done yourself?” Torn quarried, one eyebrow raised.
“Shut up, Torn,” Ashelin grumbled. Torn smirked and Ashelin punched him in the arm. “Help me get the word out. I’ve got less than three hours.”
Torn blinked. Jak put a time limit on this? That the Commander hadn’t expected. Cautiously he asked, “Why?”
“Jak’s called an emergency session for the Sage lines,” Ashelin breathed out slowly. “All remaining direct descendants are required to attend.”
Torn nodded. If anything it made sense, although he wondered how Jak knew to even call for an emergency session. Ashelin hadn’t gotten around to discussing what emergency sessions entailed, or the reasons to even call on them yet as far as Torn knew. He cokced his head as he thought about that, and then as the reason for the session abruptly clicked. Torn wanted to laugh.
“Fuck, Mar, no wonder the kid doesn’t want to listen to political ramblings,” he said as he scrubbed his hand through his hair.
Ashelin, halfway back into her office, turned around. “What does that mean?!”
“Ashe, he knows Zoe,” Torn said with a snort. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of it. Mar.” Ashelin blinked, took a second to think it over, then cursed.
“Why didn’t you tell me this, Torn!?” she demanded, decided it wouldn’t be worth it to have the argument when she had work to do, and turned around to finish fishing out the jury-rigged communications system that’d gotten buried.
“I didn’t think of it,” Torn protested. “Mar, I didn’t even realize how much like King Damas Jak even looked until after I finished up his hair. Put him in front of Zoe, someone who knew King Damas as a kid?” In retrospect the whole thing was actually obvious, but Torn couldn’t fault himself for not knowing. King Damas had been ousted when he was a kid and he could barely remember what the last monarch looked like—almost all materials on him had been removed. Plus Torn’s duties kept growing—keep Jak safe, deal with the emergency protocols and responses for the KG and the Underground, help with rescue operations—so he couldn’t be aware of everything.
“Fine! I wasted a week then!”
Torn rolled his eyes and moved back over toward the couch. He picked up his jacket and the breathing apparatus that attached to it, and calmly began to shrug the clothing back on. “Do you want me to say sorry?”
“Torn, just get the word out!”
“Yes ma’am,” Torn replied sarcastically. He slipped out the door before Ashelin could say anything, fingers already tightening the jacket closed. He shook his head; Jak never ceased to amaze him on the amount of trouble he got into.
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flashyfucker · 3 years ago
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i may or may not be a little too obsessed with dbf!jamie so I have a few questions:
how do the parents find out about their relationship? and how to they react?
I have this image in my head that everyone - literally everyone has a crush on Jamie in their neighbourhood so how would mc deal with women throwing themselves at him, especially when she has to act unbothered and such.
AND IVE SEEN THE BREEDING KINK TAG AND PLEASE ELABORATE ON THAT IM DESPERATE
anon bestie u got me spitballin with this one. nsfw breeding kink talk under the cuttt MORE DBF!JAMIE | gimme ur thoughts/questions! x
HANDLING JEALOUSY: everyone for sure has a crush on jamie. i also imagine jamie was an entire heartbreaker (lil slutty phase?) before he moved into the neighbourhood, so he carries this air of confidence around people interested in him. he’s a flirt in an understated way, polite and gentlemanly to a fault sometimes, so it isn’t surprising when people try their luck with him.
before you start seeing jamie, it’s a little disheartening. there’s a long time where you feel like a stupid kid with a crush and no chance, and here he is, at this barbecue being very publicly propositioned by a beautiful woman closer to his age, and he’s too polite to tell her he’s not interested right away, but you go home too early to see him finally let her down gently (which also means you’re gone before he comes looking for you, having made you up a plate before the best food was gone).
after you start seeing him, though, while it’s a little grating to not be able to walk up and kiss him and put an end to the charade, it’s mostly fun. it’s fun to see him brush off others, knowing he’s all in for you. it’s especially fun when you can scroll down to the album buried deep in your phone and text him a photo from your last time alone together and watch as he opens it and tries to keep a straight face in front of whoever’s talking to him.
YOUR PARENTS FINDING OUT: so part of me wants to write the huge blow up and falling out which would occur if your parents interrupted yall mid-stroke (lmao) and that's how they found out, but more realistically, i feel like it gets to a point where your parents have heard so many rumours, and they've watched you change over the months, going from completely disinterested in jamie to visibly excited and giddy when he's around, they kinda know what's happening, to an extent.
they sit you down alone one night and hit you really seriously with "are you interested in jamie?" and you have to be like.. he's been balls deep inside me so yeah, mom, i'm a little interested (you don’t mention how you've already been seeing him for a solid 2-3 months, what they don't know can't hurt them lmao). they're a bit uncomfortable with the idea but they let it chill for a week or two and then they're realistic about it: you're an adult and jamie isn't that much older than you, it's just a little weird that he knew your dad first, maybe. 
eventually your dad pulls jamie aside and is all “you’re clearly into her too: if you break my little girl’s heart, i’ll use your remains as fish bait. also c’mon we’re going to paul’s house down the street, he got a new boat. no, my daughter cannot come.” full son-in-law mode immediately tbh
THE BREEDING KINK THING: it’s definitely this dirty little quiet thing between the pair of you, particularly while your relationship is still a secret. you never really mention it other than in the moment but it makes you feel closer to one another while you can’t be together in public. but also just the visuals.... whew
the very first time you fuck, you beg him desperately to finish inside you, so needy for him in the most whole, most intimate way, and jamie runs with it. neither of you had really known you’d be into it until it happens. it’s the first time you properly learn how filthy his mouth can be, when he pauses, overwhelmingly deep inside you and he grabs your face so you’re eye to eye with him and he smiles nearly mockingly as he asks “you’re gonna let me fill this pretty cunt, are you? is that what you want?” and you’re so fucked out you’re nearly in tears, borderline babbling as you plead for his load but he won’t finish until you give him a coherent answer describing how badly you need his cum inside you and like i said, visuals are so hot, he for sure takes pictures of it leaking out. maybe those are the pics you send to him when other women are hitting on him in public 😇
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