#lately every time Every time i go to write or formulate anything i want to put my head through a WALLLL💀💀

[zombiepedia]

writing needs to stop being hard and making me nauseous

[assriels]

gravity

pairing: lucien x reader

summary: falling in love with lucien felt like trying to resist gravity and realizing it’s a futile pursuit. slowly, and then all at once.

word count: 1.7k

warnings: none/mostly fluff!

a/n: i played around a little bit with my writing style and i really enjoyed it :’) also i’m only capable of writing fluff for lucien i think lol

masterlist

banners by @/cafekitsune !

lucien: derived from the Latin root word lux, meaning light. 

When you had first felt yourself falling for Lucien Vanserra some odd years ago, you had been keeping a watchful eye on him — per Rhys’s request — upon his initial arrival to the Night Court under the guise that you would help him research ways to persuade the human queens to your cause against Hybern. 

Initially, it had been just that. A favor for your High Lord, your friend. 

But what had once felt like a vague indifference for the youngest Vanserra brother quickly devolved into a genuine appreciation for him. The more time you spent with Lucien, the more you glimpsed the light peeking out from beneath his guarded exterior.

(You nearly laughed at how aptly Lucien lived up to the brightness belying the meaning of his name.)

It had started with friendly teasing, then secret smiles over piles of textbooks, then not so accidental touches in the quiet of the townhouse. With each evolution of your relationship with Lucien, the more and more you found yourself wanting to be around him, seeking each other out with flimsy excuses that would guarantee a day’s worth of cherished company. 

The inextricable desire you had to be near him that was growing exponentially with every subtle glance he stole had made you nervous. Wary, even. 

You were an academic – the coveted researcher for the Night Court – relying heavily on concepts you could study, could quantify. Well-evidenced theory informed much of your advice to Rhys and his court, and you were often the first point of contact when anyone had any questions about…anything; your wealth of knowledge was endless.

But Lucien — his undeniable magnetism — was an enigma; you could never quite understand why you’d felt so drawn to him, could never formulate an accurate hypothesis for how easily he could coax a smile to your lips and make butterfly wings tickle your stomach.

But it was becoming increasingly evident that he felt the same indisputable pull that you did. He had spent much of his time in your presence, bringing you tea in the late hours of the nights you spent in the townhouse’s reading room, poring over tomes and texts that you and Amren had thought might be useful. Lucien always made the excuse that he made too much tea and didn’t want it to go to waste. 

(Later, you’d find out that he didn’t even really like the tea he brought you every night, only brewing an excessive amount of it because Feyre had offhandedly mentioned it was your favorite.) 

He was rarely there to give his opinions, merely lingering to offer his quiet companionship, situating himself in a comfortable lounge chair in your periphery as he perused the pages of his book of choice. More often than not, he’d fall asleep in what had to be a supremely uncomfortable position, untouched tea cooling on the table. 

It was in those sweet and fragile beginnings of your relationship with Lucien that you had begun to contemplate the potential cosmic underpinnings of your mutual fondness for each other, and what that could mean for you and your future. 

Orbiting each other like stars caught in the same gravitational field, you and Lucien were on a steady course of stellar collision, sure to erupt in some unexplainable astral phenomenon that would certainly result in your doom. Or your salvation. 

(It was the latter.)

The same way you could track the trajectory of an apple falling from a tree and calculate the force with which it would hit the ground, you could guess — with near one hundred percent accuracy — how hard you would fall for Lucien. It was a dangerous descent, you knew, but one that you could hardly fight against. 

Despite being quite the closet romantic — how could you not be, with the knowledge of endless possibilities at your fingertips? — you had been hesitant to pursue anything more with Lucien, wanting to preserve the innocent, lighthearted flirtations that had come so easily between you. You’d been hurt before, been wickedly tricked into the dangerous downward spiral of broken promises and fleeting loyalty of lovers past. And you’d be damned if you’d let yourself make that mistake again. 

But Lucien…

Lucien was all of things your previous paramours had not been. He was kind and gentle and genuine. Funny and insufferably sweet. He was a wonderfully fresh breath of air in an otherwise stagnant atmosphere. 

He had his darkness — he’d admitted as much to you himself. But he had never hidden it from you, had even allowed you the privilege of holding the most tender parts of his past in your hands to examine, always providing ample opportunities for you to deny him, decide that you didn’t want all the pieces of his whole after all.

You had never been afraid of the dark, though, not in the literal or metaphorical sense. It was comforting, quiet, familiar. Besides, before Lucien, you had never found a light bright enough to fear the return of the dark. 

But when faced with the sheer enormity of the warmth his light provided, suddenly you were afraid of its absence. You wanted only to spend your time basking beneath the sun you had discovered beneath Lucien Vanserra’s ribs. 

It was torturously paradoxical, how the more you chased Lucien’s light the more you were plunged into the dark unknown of what loving him would mean, and how afraid you had become. But resisting Lucien’s solar gravity was like trying to defy the very laws that governed the universe you were lucky enough to live in with him: near impossible. 

The way he so effortlessly drew you to him, enticed you to trust him, open yourself to him was something that the greatest physicists of your time could never explain. It was a mystery you weren’t sure you wanted solved for fear that once discovered, he’d be taken from you; you selfishly wanted to keep Lucien’s impossibly beautiful energy to yourself. 

He was undefinable in his unwavering loyalty and limitless consideration. Lucien’s love for you seemed to be as intrinsically written into his existence with the same certainty that you knew the sun would rise over the horizon every morning. It was with that same certainty that you knew falling in love with him was inevitable, and fighting it was a futile resistance of gravity.

So you had let yourself fall, let yourself dive deep into the unknown, praying – begging, really – to whatever gods that were listening that this wasn’t another funnel towards heartbreak. 

You fell with maddening speed and Lucien caught you – having already fallen long ago – with all of the warmth of the sun that his name promised.

If your past self had ever doubted the stability of loving Lucien Vanserra (read: you did), none of that doubt existed in you now. Especially in moments like this: skin to skin in the morning light of the first spring day in the Night Court. Three years since you and Lucien (separate) became you and Lucien (duo), you could hardly believe that you ever considered any other choice but him.

The sun was warm on your back as you lay on your side, arm tucked comfortably beneath your head as you listened to Lucien give you his annual spiel about how the springs in the Spring Court were unbeatable, though the Night Court did have some acceptable weather sometimes. You giggled at his remarkable consistency, love and fondness filling the space between your ribs, momentarily seizing your heart to flutter giddily.

“Okay, Lu,” you responded in mock exasperation. “And then in the fall –”

“Autumn,” he corrected, just to jest further.

“ – you’re going to tell me that the Autumn Court has the best autumns.”

“Naturally.” His grin was blinding as he teased you, pressing a firm kiss between your brows. 

You rolled your eyes but gave in, leaning in towards him – always leaning in towards him (that pesky gravity again).

“But I guess your court,” he continued, “has us beat as far as stargazing goes.”

“Naturally,” you mimicked, winking.

His laugh was a resounding bell of warmth and you took the opportunity to drink him in, warm skin tinted pink with joy and the heat of the morning sun. His hair was disheveled with sleep, but he was impossibly effortless in his beauty.  

The freckles on his cheeks reminded you a lot of the stars that illuminated the streets of Velaris, and you spent the next few hours of the early morning drawing constellations on his skin and fabricating stories of their origin while Lucien’s own fingers drew matching patterns onto your back.

He whispered cheesy lines about how you outshone all of the stars in your beloved Night Court, and then his cheeks dimpled — beautiful craters of mirth — as he smiled at your feigned incredulity. He kissed you then, and you once again found yourself at the mercy of his gravitational pull, your body arching almost instinctively against his in an effort to satisfy your craving for the feel of his skin against yours. 

Lucien – as always – indulged you, snaking a muscled arm around your waist to pull your body flush against his as he whispered in your ear about how he had heard once that freckles were the spots that past life lovers had kissed the most. In an act of petulant pseudo jealousy at the idea that someone had the privilege of loving Lucien before you, you spent the rest of the morning peppering his skin in a thousand kisses. 

“No need to be jealous, my love,” he said as you anchored your lips to the apple of his cheek. “I’m certain that in every life before this one, I enjoyed the pleasure of your affections. And I will continue to find you in every one after.”

Maybe that was it. Maybe the undeniable, visceral need to have him, be with him, love him was written into your bones by the infinite previous lives you spent within each others’ orbit. Your devotion to Lucien seemed as intrinsic as the laws of the universe; there was no life in which you did not feel the warmth of his yearning. 

You hummed in contented agreement, feeling as though you’ve just discovered the unthinkable as you continued your quest, reveling in the gentle shiver you earned with a well placed kiss to the junction of his jaw and neck. For a brief moment, you made a mental note to thank whatever force – physical, cosmic, celestial – that had bound you and Lucien together.

[mayflysdie]

You found me. ~Simon Riley fic~

[Warnings: Kidnap, language, mentions of assault, blood and gore}

-this is my first time writing a fic, so please bare with this lol.-

What if the cab driver suddenly turned in the wrong direction and told you he had his own plans for you? Simon had gone over these types of situations with me, but never once did i think it would be a reality. Fear takes hold of me as our eyes meet in the rearview mirror. Every muscle in my body trembles with trepidation as I unlock my cell phone and shift my gaze for a moment to check Simon's name on the messenger app. With one swift stroke, I send off a simple text; one that we had already formulated in case of such an emergency. ‘Falcon’.

I take a deep breath, some of my tension easing knowing that Simon had prepared me for this possibility; I open my eyes and reflect on all that he taught me. "Check the doors - they must have child locked them," I muse quietly. Tentatively, I reach out and try the door handle; it doesn't move, as I expected.

The driver sternly warned me, "Don't attempt to do anything foolish. It won't end well for you." I could feel my muscles tense up as I looked in his direction. My curiosity got the better of me and I asked, "Why are you doing this...who do you work for?" Suddenly I remembered Simon's words: 'Do whatever they tell you to do without asking any questions until I arrive'. A wave of apprehension emanated through me as I released a shaky sigh. All of a sudden the driver snatched my phone from behind his seat, stating gruffly, "I don't want you trying to call the authorities".

I press my lips together, gazing out the window as we approach the outer limits of the city. Squeezing my eyes shut in dread, I fervently wish that Simon will find me before it is too late.

After what felt like hours, we pulled up to a neglected cabin situated in the far depths of the woods. I tensed, my body curling into itself as the driver turned around brandishing a syringe. He spoke with warning in his voice, "Don't fight it, darling." He pushed himself into the backseats and before I could do anything more prickly pain shot through my neck. I gasped, touching my neck while staring at him wide-eyed. My throat tightened as I whispered, "W-Why?" As if magnetized by an invisible force, my eyes crossed and my eyelids gradually grew heavy.

When I stir, finally regaining consciousness, a thumping headache greets me. My attempt to move is foiled as I realise my arms and legs are bound to the chair. My vision adjusts slowly to the meager illumination of the room. An odour of decay and a nauseating metallic stench fill the air, provoking within me a deep desire to retch.

My gaze immediately flickers to the creaking metal door, and a man in a military uniform appears. His dark hair and the multitude of scarring showing on his face caught my attention, but what was most memorable was the twisted grin he wore as he spoke with a distinct Russian dialect. "Ah, you have awakened," He uttered, steadily walking closer. I remained expressionless and silent, watching him intently. i feel nothing but raw evil intent coming from him, and i have to force my body to remain still, to keep from shaking. 

The man's glare fixed me in my place as he spoke, his tone edged with menace. "We can keep this simple and get you out of here if you tell me where Ghost is located and his name," he said. I stayed silent and received a punch to my cheek for it, pain radiating from the impact. Stifling a grunt, I shot him a challenging look and said, "I've met Girl Scouts who pack more of a punch than you."

He was clearly not pleased and he unleashed a series of angry punches to my face. I felt several of my teeth loosening and soon there were several of them lying on the floor along with the blood that I had coughed onto his face. My expression didn't waver but my eyes bore into his soul. "You're going to regret that," he snarled, and then an excruciating pain surged through my thigh. I clenched my teeth together tightly, trying hard not to make a sound. When I look down I noticed the blade of a knife sticking out from my leg.

He violently tears out the blade, and I can't contain my sharp inhale of pain. His lips pull up into an evil smirk as he presses his digits into the open wound, mercilessly causing excruciating torture. With a sinister laugh he relinquishes his grip, then forcefully grasps onto my swollen and bruised jaw to make sure that I don't avert my gaze from him as he interrogates me. "Where is he?" He barks through his clenched teeth in angry rancor. “ fuck you” i spit on his face. my bloody saliva running down his cheek. he raises his fist to strike me again, halting abruptly when loud shouting is heard, followed by gunshots. he shoves my head back with a growl of anger. he curses in his mother language, grabbing a fistful of my hair, yanking my head back with the knife at my throat. “what is his name”he orders, pressing the knife against the flesh on my neck. “hm, depends on what mood i'm in" i remark, earning myself a wound on my neck as he presses the knife into my skin. “ you fucking bitch” he yells. the shouting and gunfire in the distance grows louder, and he grows desparate. i smile at him, tauntingly. “what? thought i’d be an easy target?” i mock. he snarls at me. the metal door flys open, and he quickly hides behind me, continuing to hold the knife at my throat. i smile when i see the guest is Simon, my Simon. his rifle is aimed at the man behind me as he advances closer, his large form gives off a terrifying aura, like a predator stalking it’s pray. “release her” he orders, his British accent echoes throughout the room. 

I watch as Soap, Price, and Gaz enter the room, their guns raised. I smile at them and greet, "Hi guys," as if it were a normal day. I see Soap shaking his head slightly—presumably in reaction to my greeting—as the man behind me yanks my head back until it hits the back of the chair, eliciting a whimper from me. The Russian threateningly slides the knife across my neck and demands that they lower their weapons or I will die. As I can no longer see the boys in front of me, I hear frantic shuffling and then, suddenly, a loud bang rings out. The grip on my hair releases, followed swiftly by the one holding the knife. A thud sounds behind me, leaving me with no doubt in my mind that he is dead.

With a slow lift of my head, I was met with Simon kneeling before me. The rope binding my limbs was quickly cut and a sigh escaped my lips as the adrenalin dissipated. "You found me," I whispered, collapsing into his arms. Then, Soap ran toward us with an exclamation of surprise. "Aye lass, you look like hell." I couldn't help but snort at his description as my gaze fell on the wound on my thigh. "Feels like it too," I mumbled. Gently, Simon scooped me up bridal style, while Soap wrapped a cloth around my thigh to stop the flow of blood. Smiling, I glanced at Simon and half jokingly said, "I dunno what you did to piss them off, but leave me out of it next time, yeah?" His voice gruff yet filled with worry, he shook his head with a grunt. "There better not be a next time," he sternly uttered, stress evident in the look he gave me as he searched my body. i reach up and gently grab the side of his mask, not taking it off, just simply resting my hand there. “i’m okay darling, nothing a good stitch wont fix”i say softly trying to ease his worry. he holds me tighter as everyone starts to leave the room. “receiving that text.. i lost my mind”he whispers in my ear. “i can imagine, i’m sorry for the fright. had i known that cab was a ploy, i might have rode my broom stick this morning instead” i say. Soap laughs loudly behind us, and Price chuckles with a shake of his head. Simon shakes his head, “stop yappin nonesne” he says grumpily, but i hear the faint amusment in his voice. 

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Hi! I love your writing so much, you portray all the characters so accurately!! Could I possibly request the M6 with an MC that procrastinates a lot?

The Arcana HCs: M6 with a procrastinator MC

~ ... why do I feel personally called out by this lol

Dear procrastinators, you are not alone and you are not lazy. It is very likely that you experience executive dysfunction or are a perfectionist, and neither of those things say anything negative about you - brainrot ~

Julian

This man screams undiagnosed ADHD

He is painfully familiar with looking at several large tasks made up of lots of smaller tasks and mentally blue screening

It's such a common habit for him to put things off until the last minute and then do two days' work in an hour and a half that he just assumes it's the default way of functioning

So the first time you tell him about how you're going to put off practicing a spell until two hours before you need to use it, his reaction is just "mood"

You'll have to be the first of the two of you to bring it up and point out that it hurts your ability to function

Once you do, he's giving you all of his emotional support. You agree to hold each other accountable since neither of you can justifiably hold a grudge about it

Just don't say "I'll start working on this once you start working on that," or else you'll end up in a procrastination deadlock as you sit and experience the existential dread together

Asra

They don't seem to understand how much stress this causes you. They're the kind of easy-going person who shows up five minutes before an airplane flight

He assumes it's just your working style

Until they catch you stressed to the point of tears one morning because you know you have to take inventory today and you know you're going to wait til sundown and you know it'll keep you up late

He's immediately pulling you into a firm hug, rubbing your back and giving you little forehead kisses while you rant about it

Volunteers to begin tasks with you until you have the momentum you need

"Would you like me to read the numbers to you while you check? Or would you like to make some tea for us while I get started, and then you join me when you're ready?"

Faust is very good at reminding you to take breaks when you start to work too frantically

They will (lovingly) tease you about it

He will keep a kisses reward system and praise you until you blush over every effort

Nadia

She doesn't deal with this at all, but she does know what it's like to feel overwhelmed

Picks up on your struggle instantly

The moment she asked you to take over a murder investigation with 0 leads she saw the frozen dread on your face and knew

She doesn't want to cramp your style by imposing her own habits on you, so instead she'll ask you questions about your day's to do list and guide you through formulating a plan of attack

She's an excellent strategist, you're in very good hands

Tackling a big goal is a lot easier when you already have the steps planned out and can concentrate on one at a time until you've picked up enough steam to carry through

The struggle never goes away, of course, but in the moments when something unexpectedly big makes your brain begin to stall you can almost hear her silky voice in your ear:

"There is no such thing as only one problem, my darling. Look for where it breaks apart, and we'll conquer one piece at a time."

Muriel

He doesn't procrastinate things the way you do, but he certainly avoids uncomfortable issues for as long as possible until he's forced to confront them

He can tell that this is different. Sometimes the thing you put off is actually good and pleasant for you, you just can't seem to do it

More accurately, you can't seem to start

He notices you, and he notices how well you work once you've started. It's the part where you have to set up the tools, or write the first word, or get up out of your chair that makes you balk

There's a book on magic you need to read? He'll leave it open on the table to the chapter you mentioned, next to a pretty feather

If it's just a matter of getting up, he'll start sweeping the floor and ask you to move your seat

Sometimes he misreads the situation

You might be relaxing after having finished something on time for once, only for him to come in and start hustling you around because he thought you hadn't started yet. It's fun to call him on it and watch him blush

Portia

She cannot relate at all

Nobody can fit as many tasks into one hour as she can. Nobody can wrangle a to do list like she can. She gets stuff done

She might get frustrated with you at first

When she left you this morning, you had one thirty minute task to do before you could enjoy your day off, and now it's evening and you're stressed out because you still haven't done it yet

This makes no sense to her. Just do the thing

Once she realizes that it's not on purpose, she'll support you tirelessly. Tell her about your to do list

Oh, that task? Here's a few tips she follows to make it easier. An errand to that part of town? Here's a shortcut to try. You need to write a letter? She'll dictate the salutation and opening sentences to give you some momentum

It can be hard not to compare yourself to her productivity levels, but nobody has the unquestioning faith in you that she does. You'll be alright

Lucio

Procrastinating? He loves procrastinating

But only if it's something he'd rather not be doing. Or something that takes more effort than he thinks is worth it. Like chores

But when it's something that will make life easier, or something actually fun? It takes a while for him to notice, but once he does it really bothers him how much of a party pooper it is for you

Not to mention that when you get stressed, he gets stressed, and that's not fun

As loathe as he is to admit it, he knows he can be really annoying when he puts his mind to it. So that is what he does

He'll threaten to sing the entire score of Phantom of the Opera until you start doing the Thing that you need to do

All it takes is him mimicking the pipe organ's starting notes for Mercedes and Melchior to start whimpering, howling and barking:

"Don't get mad, you asked for it, MC." *deep breath* "BWAAAAAAAA! BWAM DUN DUN DUN DUUUNNNNN -"

Your productivity goes up but now you wince every time you see a chandelier

[ntyfool]

The one, part2 (final). previous chapter.

Neteyam Sully x Fem!Omaticaya!Reader.

Confessing, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fixing it.

Summary: Feelings are always too complicated, until they aren’t.

this is really short and maybe a little rushed, but happy and relived neteyam turned to be my favorite type of him. comments always help me a lot and thank you for reading. <3 i really liked writing this small series.

Your head snapped as you heard someone entering the tent. It was already night and patients weren’t expected at all, the only task being to organize some medicine and prepare materials for the next day. A familiar figure standing in front of you.

Neteyam was panting, trying to regulate his breathing pattern while staring into your eyes. He seemed anxious, uneasy, much more than you’ve seen him in perhaps his entire life, and this made a wave of worry consume your entire being. In an instant reaction you abandoned the things you were working with and walked up to him with a small container in hands, looking for any wounds and touching his face to check the temperature.

“Are you okay? Did something happen? You seem pale.” No answer. You continued to check on him, noticing that he recently cried, eyes swollen from the tears.

“Explain to me, what happened? Why are you like this?” Panic rushing through your veins, you couldn’t endure the pain of seeing him in this state, taking one of his hands. “Neteyam, what is it?”

“I refused.”

“What?”

“I will not be her mate.”

Your eyes widened, what was he talking about? It was hard to process what you felt at the moment. This wasn’t expected at all. “Why? What went wrong?” you muttered.

“Because I can’t loose you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I love you”. He finally said. “I can’t remember a time where I didn’t and can’t accept the idea of having someone other than you by my side. You don’t need to feel the same but, please, let me stay close to you again.” You could feel your heart skipping a beat. “I miss everything about you, and I’ll be happy if what you can give me for now is what we already had. I’d live my entire life getting treated by you in late afternoons, sharing looks and talking about all sort of things. I’m not afraid anymore to go against my family if this means I’ll hold your hand again, they can’t decide for me. I want to follow my heart for once and it is yours.”

The words slipped from his tongue before he could stop them. He shouldn’t have said that, not like this. When the realization finally hit him he started to blush and panic, knowing that this could be the last time you’d look at him with the same care as before. “I apologize, you didn’t deserve to hear it this way. It’s better if I go.”

You took his arm as he turned around the exit. Still unable to formulate a coherent tough. Neteyam loved you.

Letting the remedy in your hands fall to the floor, you took a step forward cupping his face, pressing your lips together. The kiss was passionate and urgent, making up for all the years of uncertainty and yearning. Neteyam’s lips felt soft against yours, his hands holding your neck and waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

Breaking away and gasping for air, both couldn’t help the silent chuckles that escaped, overwhelmed with the tenderness of the moment. You never felt so happy, so relieved, his gaze showing nothing but pure adoration and surprise.

“I love you too, Neteyam. Eywa, how could you not know?”

His face lit up. Smiling so hard that it was almost painful. “It seems I have a talent when it comes to being oblivious.”

You playfully rolled your eyes, holding a laugh and sighing dramatically. “Maybe we both do.”

He quickly agreed and hugged you tightly, spinning you around. Giggles filling the room as Neteyam kissed every part of your face. And even without being certain about how things would develop, there was a mutual understanding that you could face anything together. Because this love was something the both of you would carry forever, and cozy afternoons were all you could wish for.

Neteyam Sully was your secret, but not anymore.

_____

taglist: @n3t3y4msm4t3.

[gaybananabread]

13. Sneak Attack Amity attempts to get her siblings back for their tickling cheer ups to her but in the end gets easily overpowered.

TickleTober Day 13 - Sneak Attack

Is it just me, or have I written pretty much the same scenario three times now? Hopefully there’s been improvement between them (>m<). Busted this thing out the night before I left town, so I’m sorry for any grammatical errors. I’m kinda straying away from TOH, so I might be taking it off my list. Still, thank you for requesting, and I hope you Enjoy!

Lee: Amity

Lers: Emira, Edric

Summary: Amity tries once again to get her siblings back for their tickly attacks. The twins catch on, quickly putting a stop to her plan with one of their own.

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don't like that, scroll away!!

Amity was sitting at her work desk, tapping a pencil against her blank homework. She really didn’t feel like writing the essay, her mind wandering elsewhere. She had a good week to work on it, plenty of time to do it.

The purple-haired witchling’s thoughts drifted, various topics coming and going. It was fun to just zone out and think for a bit. Fun…a distant memory resurfaced, one from a good few months ago. Her siblings were messing with her and, once again, reduced her to a giggly puddle. Come to think of it, she never did get them back…

The distant look on her face slowly became a smirk, a plan formulating in her mind. The twins were sneaky, but they couldn’t win every time. It was her turn to finally get some well-deserved vengeance.

…

Amity set the abomination trap, checking to make sure that everything was in place. Her plan was foolproof. She would lure Emira in, call the abomination on her, and finally get her revenge. Edric would have to wait, he was doing his own homework anyways. 

“Em! I need some help here!” As planned, her sister ran into the room to see what was wrong. When Emira saw the small yet shit-eating grin on her sibling’s face, she knew something was up. Best to play along with it, see if she can turn the tables. 

Emira walked closer to her sister, stopping just a few feet away. “What’s up, mittens?” Amity sighed, biting the inside of her cheek. Just a bit closer…

“Just…wanted your opinion on something. Can you come over here?” If she hadn’t already known, that would have told her something was up. Taking a look around, she saw a bit of abomination goo on the carpet. So that’s what her plan was… Em could work with that. 

She walked up to her sister, shoving her back at the last second. Emira wasn’t as good with abominations as her sister, but catching Amity off guard helped her get the jump on the younger witch. She activated the abomination trap, using it on the one who planted it. “Sneak attack!”

Amity yelped, feeling her trap being used against her. She was so close! Before she had a chance to protest, she felt fingers dancing across her belly. “E-EHEMIRAHA! COHOME ON, NOHOHOT AHAGAIN!” 

Oh, it was too perfect. Amity had yet to figure out that there was no besting the twins. Even if it was just one of them. Speaking of which…

“Who’s wrecking Amity, and why wasn’t I invited?” Edric came down the stairs from his room, a smug grin on his face. He knew exactly what was going on, and planned to get his turn. 

Emira waved him over, drilling into Amity’s belly button and making her squeal. “You’re a little late, doofus. Here, help me with her pits. She’s too wild to get all by my lonesome.” Ugh, that stupid voice… Every time they teased her, each twin would use this cocky, smug tone to drive her nuts. “DOHON’T YOUHU *DAHAHARE*!”

That got a snort out of the older teen. Her threat was more adorable than anything, with all the laughter. “Sorry mittens. Twin Law, gotta help if she asks.”

Those evil little- “GYAAA! NOHOHOHO!” Amity thrashed in the goopy restraints, any and all thoughts of insults being drowned out by ticklish agony. Both her worst spots being attacked at the same time was awful enough; then the teasing started.

“Aww, poor mittens. You’d think she would’ve learned by now~ There’s no getting payback on us.” Emira’s nails paired with Edric’s gentle squeezes and pokes were sending her into a tickly tizzy. She regretted making her plan so “foolproof” now that she was stuck in it. Not only was it proof that her plan was not as solid as she would’ve liked; it also kept her firmly in place and at the mercy of her evil siblings. 

A snort interrupted her laughter, Ed’s fingers nailing the center of her underarms as Em drilled her nails into her belly button. It was an extremely unfair combo. “NYAHOHOHO! GUHUHUYS!” 

Edric actually felt a bit bad. They had wrecked her a good few times, constantly denying her any retribution. “Do we have to be so mean, Em? She kinda does deserve to get us back, even if it’ll never happen.” He turned his eyes back to Amity, chuckling. “ A+ idea on your plan, by the way. Execution…needs some work.”

She was too lost in laughter to care. Ed finally gave into his less-cruel thoughts, moving his fingers up to her neck. Amity’s laughter eased up a bit, though squeaks and occasional snorts were added to the mix. “Pl- snort pleHEHEASE! IHIT’S- thihis isn’t fahahahahair!”

Emira wanted to continue the evil attack, but Edric gave her the “c’mon” look. Sighing, she switched to rib-pokes. “You’re lucky Ed’s gone soft. I would’ve been fine making you squeal, little sis~”

“Youhuhuhu *squeak* you bohoth suhuck!” Amity’s battery was already pretty drained from their initial attack. Em had no reason to be so cruel, other than her own entertainment. Maybe it was the big sister instinct to torture their little siblings. She honestly couldn’t tell you; all she knew is that it sucked to be on the receiving end. 

The rib pokes and neck tickles weren’t half as bad as their previous tickle-hell-combo, but it was still sending those annoying butterflies into her stomach. Being tickled by her siblings was fun, to an extent. They had reached that extent. “Cohohome ohon! snort Plehehease?” 

Okay, time to be the merciful brother… Edric pulled his hands away from her neck, backing up to admire their work. Once again, they’d reduced their sister to a blushy, giggling mess. He knew Em would take some convincing to quit, though. Her and her ler moods…

“Em, c’mon, don’t kill her. She’s had more than enough.” When she rolled her eyes and ignored him, he grabbed her by the sides, squeezing as he dragged his twin away from their exhausted sibling. Emira, not expecting the sudden jolts to her sides, practically squawked, whipping around and batting his hands. Her focus on the abomination restrains wavered, the purple sludge melting back into the trap box and releasing their youngest sibling. “Uhuhugh…th-thahanks Ed…”

Emira’s cheeks were red, though not nearly as much as her sister’s. The older teen scoffed, jabbing her brother in the ribs before turning back to Amity. “Okay, fine. Maybe I did take things a smidge too far. BUT- I’m all done now. Soooo… Blight siblings cuddle pile?”

One though simultaneously crossed both Edric and Amity’s minds in that moment: seriously? She had just gotten done wrecking Amity’s shit, and she immediately wanted a cuddle pile? Still, some cuddly aftercare would be nice… Screw it.

“F-fihine. I get to pihick the movie, thohough.” Em could live with that. Sure, Amity only ever picked cheesy RomComs, but it wasn’t horrible. At least it wasn’t one of Ed’s gruesome slashers… Even she had her limits. “Okay, that’s cool. Ed, burrito-ify mittens and meet me on the couch.”

And turn her to a burrito he did. Edric grabbed one of the fluffier blankets from the nearby chair, wrapping his younger sister up and carrying her to the couch. Amity huffed, but didn’t protest the movement. She loved the attention, as silly as it was. 

Tossing her on the couch, Ed sat down and tugged Emira over to them. Pretty soon, all three Blight siblings were curled into each other, the TV ready for some cheesy-movie action. Amity had, predictably, chosen a romantic comedy about two witches in love, each a coven head. The plot was okay, but some of the corny scenarios made Edric cringe and Emira fake-gag. Amity was eating it up, though, so it was kinda worth it.

The trio continued to relax together, winding down from their chaotic day. Eventually, they passed out, cheesy RomCom number three still playing in the background. Their father entered the home about an hour later, a soft smile forming at the sight. He definitely didn’t take a picture for his private Penstagram account. These kids…

[softspeirs]

Barren Soul: (12) Paris

A/N: I've decided I'm not going to apologize for how long it takes me to write, edit, and get a chapter prepped for posting. I am sorry, but I know anyone left reading this is tired of hearing it. Well -- here we are. Please note; we're playing fast and loose with canon from this point forward, especially in terms of where certain members of Easy were at different points in time. I'm not changing anything major in terms of the story, but just wiggling the timeline a little bit so certain characters can interact more. If you're still reading this, please leave a comment - they mean the world to me!

Before long, Easy are on the line and facing combat missions nearly every day. They’re taking heavy fire from the Germans, and casualties are high.

Kat starts to feel numb to it. She misses the worried glances over the top of her head from the other members of her squad when she doesn’t react to a joke or even someone asking her a question. Sometimes it takes them saying her name two or three times before she gets out of her head long enough to formulate a robotic response.

The same day Alley is hit at the crossroads, Major Horton is killed. Winters gets promoted. It’s well-deserved, and comes after one of the most nerve wracking battles they’ve faced so far - Easy against an entire regiment - likely all SS.

That was the same night Liebgott had come to the aid station nearly at his breaking point. Seeing him like that had done something to Kat, too. People are starting to notice, even their new CO who Kat barely knows.

Lieutenant Heyliger is a good officer, and Kat likes him. He’s sure of himself, but Kat still feels like they’re going to be missing a limb without Winters in the field.

Heyliger seems to be clued into the fact that Kat needs a wide berth right now, and he barely knows her. Since he’s taken over, he’s made an effort to make small talk and keep her in the loop now that he’s Easy’s CO, but she can’t find it in her to respond the way she’d like to - she’s distant, doesn’t want to get attached. It’s not like her.

A small voice in the back of her mind is ringing warning bells, but it gets quieter with each day that passes. She’s not sure there’s even a word for it. She’s just– she feels nothing.

It comes to a head one day after it takes her too long to respond to calls for a medic. She doesn’t mean for it to happen, but she freezes. Literally and figuratively, she feels cold. Feels like she’s outside of her body, watching everything happen as if she’s not there.

Luckily, Spina and Roe take over, and no one seems to notice. At least, that’s what she thinks. It’s not until they’re under the cover of darkness that someone slides into her foxhole. She tenses, but relaxes when she sees Compton’s easy smile, though there’s something a little tentative about it now.

“Gray,” he says, his voice rough. The way he’d been screaming orders all day, she’s surprised he hasn’t lost it entirely.

“Sir,” she says, moving over to make some room. “Do you need help?”

He squints at her. “Was going to ask you the same thing.”

She flushes. “Sir?”

Compton has always been a good leader. She’s never been under his direct leadership, but she sees the difference he makes to the company. It’s a little unnerving to have his undivided attention, especially after he’s just back from being in the hospital. She fights back the instinct to ask him if he’s okay, because he’s clearly got something on his mind.

“Kat, I don’t really know how to say this nicely, so I’m just going to say it. You haven’t been yourself lately, and it’s starting to affect your squad.”

A swooping sensation starts in her stomach. Embarrassment.

“You’re not the only one going through this–” he stutters, eyes going a little glassy in that way they’ve all noticed lately, “We need you. You ignored a call for a medic today, and it isn’t the first time that’s happened this week.”

Tears start to well in her eyes, but she refuses to let them fall. It’s almost like a fog clears in her brain, and she starts to see what’s been happening to her probably since before Carentan.

He continues, “You’re too damn good at your job to let yourself get swept away by the emotions of it. I know it’s hard. Hell, I’ve had more than one day where I wanted nothing more than to drown myself in a bottle of good whiskey. But we can’t do that.” Again, his face closes off, a shadow sliding over his features. It’s been happening more and more since he was wounded in Nuenen, but it’s gone as soon as she notices it.

Kat starts to cry in earnest now. Briefly, Compton looks alarmed, but then he shifts gears. He scoots closer until he can rest his hand on her shoulder. “Alright, let it out, Gray.”

She does.

Read the full chapter on AO3 here!

[fastandtheformula1]

Hey, so I have a prompt for you! Totally get it if you're uncomfterble with writing it so no pressure!

Was wondering if you could write a 5sos fanfic where one of them self-harms and the others one by one experience different situations where he is acting weird and suspicious and they talk about it and figure out he self harms and talk to him about it

I'm Trying

a/n: if you are struggling with anything in this realm, please please ask for help! also, i am not trying to romanticize or desensitize this subject. please skip over if this is triggering for you, thank you.

summary: calum self-harms and the boys find out.

pairing: 5sos

warnings: self-harm, mentions of blood, depression/anxiety, slight cursing.

word count: 2286

again, if this is triggering for you, i HIGHLY encourage you to skip over this piece.

not my gif!

~

Being a musician was difficult. Especially when he had a crowd of more than 20,000 people staring at him. Their eyes glaring at him eagerly and analyzing his movements, watching every single thing he did. 

Calum loved playing the bass and had dreams of one day making it onstage in front of a crowd. From what seemed like endless nights and early mornings, Calum, Luke, Ashton and Michael had finally landed a record deal. It took a lot of hard work, but eventually he and his bandmates got to a point of success and played wherever they could. 

At first it was all fun; interview games, traveling the world, and hanging out with people he loved. Calum just wanted to play bass and spend time with the people he felt the most at ease with: Luke, Ashton, and Michael.

However, over the years it turned into more of a hassle for him. Calum started getting little panicked moments on stage, which was something he could get under control. The next few years were like that, him attempting to speak during a talk break, but only feeling his pounding heart and the thousands of eyes that watched him as he tried to formulate the sentence he wanted. The little voice in his head would surely criticize him for the embarrassing moments onstage, reminding him of his voice cracks and award transitions back to the show. Unfortunately, these moments turned into full-blown panic attacks onstage, which sometimes prompted him to jog offstage and gather himself for a moment.

Calum had known himself and what made him anxious, but he never thought it would be the thing he loved. He always brushed off the idea of his anxiety stemming from music, since that was often the one thing that kept him going. Lately though, it seemed to him that the reason behind his anxiousness and worry was music. 

~

Ashton came home to the guys’ shared apartment, throwing his keys on the kitchen counter as Duke ran up to greet him. The house was still, since Michael and Luke had gone to the studio to work out a song idea they had. Ashton knew Calum was home, so he went looking for him. 

“Cal?”

Ashton leapt up the steps, peaking through the Calum’s doorway noticing Calum holding something shiny. He couldn’t make out exactly what it was, but it was small enough for Calum to hold in between his thumb and pointer finger. Calum was hunched over the side of the bed facing the wall, a sight Ashton had never seen before. 

“Cal, are you good?” He said, softer. 

Calum jumped. Fuck, he definitely saw the blade. Shit. He quickly slid it into his pocket, praying to God that Ash didn’t see it. He shoved his face into his hands pretending to have a mental breakdown. He wasn’t far from it; they happened almost every week, but he figured that would be a good cover up for something far worse. His heart was pounding since none of the guys have ever caught him in the act, or even the moments leading up to it.

“Are you okay? You seem out of it.” Ashton sat down beside him, making the bed sink. 

Calum scrambled to find an acceptable answer. 

I’m good. 

No, too happy. 

I’m alright. 

Too suspicious.

“Uh, yeah, yeah, ‘m fine.” 

Calum slapped on a smile like he normally did, acting like his “normal” self. Ashton took notice of Calum's quick answer, making a mental note about it. 

“What were you holding?”

Cal panicked. Would he tell Ashton the truth? How was he going to explain this? It’s not like he could just tell him what was going on; it was too complicated. Ashton never got as much anxiety and stress as Calum did with this stuff. He’d never understand. He’d think Calum was weak and couldn’t handle the pressure, and then they’d kick him out of the band and never speak to him ever again-

“Calum.” Ashton’s eyes landed on Cal’s which were glued to his hands. 

“Oh, I, uh, I found a new pick for Mike to try on his guitar… found it online.” Cal lied. 

“Can I see it?”

“No!” Calum screamed. “No, I, uh, want it to be a surprise to him.”

“Oh, okay.”

~

The boys had come from a late night of writing in the studio, arriving home around 2 a.m. The three boys were tired and seemed like they would knock out after taking a shower and getting ready for the night. Cal’s mind, though, was obliterating him of all the failed attempts at trying a new chord for one of their songs throughout the day. His anxiety never seemed to rest, even at the late hours of the night. After the boys ate something substantial, they all said good night and went to their respective rooms.

After everyone went to bed, Calum absentmindedly grabbed his razor and went into the downstairs bathroom so as to not wake up the other three. He slid out the door to his bedroom and glided down the stairs in the darkness. He carefully shut the door and locked it; hoping no one would notice he was down here. 

Whenever Luke had had a bad dream, he’d always fiddled with his guitar until the scary thought that perturbed him went away. He’d often get nightmares when the jet-lag caught up with him or when he’d been getting home late. Tonight it was the latter option. 

Luke carefully trotted downstairs trying not to wake anyone up; he was always afraid he would when he had nightmares. Guitar in one hand, he made it to the living room where he’d dabble in his obsession with his instrument. About an hour went by, Luke grabbing his guitar and sleep starting to call his name. His foot landed on the first step, but then he noticed a slight glow coming from the closed bathroom door. He decided to check on one of his roommates, quickly figuring out it was Calum. 

He softly knocked on the door, whispering, “Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah, ‘m fine, go back to bed.” Cal answered. 

“Calum? You’ve been in there a while. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes. I just feel a little sick. I’ll be fine.”

“Cal, you’re worrying me. Let me in,”

“No, I’m-”

“Calum!” The singer whisper-shouted.

Calum knew he wouldn’t be able to get rid of him by just saying he was okay. He deepened his voice and put forth all his effort so then he’d scare Luke away. “I said I’m fine. Good night.”

Luke was taken aback by Calum’s sudden sternness, shaking his head and mumbling an “Okay, sorry” as started upstairs. Something in his heart was telling him to fight against him, though. Calum had been acting strange lately, and Luke couldn't pinpoint it. He almost brought it up to Michael at one point but then decided against it. 

~

The boys were about an hour and a half away from starting their pre-show rituals in Singapore, when an incident occurred between Calum and Michael. 

Calum had been sitting in an empty stairwell with his thoughts and his despised razor for about 45 minutes.The weeks leading up to tonight were stressful for him; tonight would be the band’s biggest night of this tour. He felt his heart leaping against his chest, Calum desperately trying to calm his nerves, but his thoughts go the better of him.

I can’t screw this up. I need to play my best. 

I can’t let the band down. 

I need to do well. 

Calum carefully pressed the blade against his arm like he did many times before. He knew this was a very unhealthy and detrimental ritual he did before almost every show, but something about it was a release for him. 

Meanwhile, Michael had been looking for Calum for the past 15 minutes, wondering how he disappeared from existence. 

“Cal, where did you-?” 

As Michael yanked the door open, the blade dug into Calum’s left upper forearm -Cal knew if he did it on his wrist someone would see the scars, causing endless panic and articles in the 5SOS world- resulting in him yelping in pain. The too-familiar pain ached down Calum’s arm as the blade hit the floor, its sound clinking in the stairwell. Michael knelt down towards the bass player assessing what had just happened. Though Calum had talked his problem through in detail with Michael before, he’d never seen a fresh scar. 

His voice was filled with terror and awe. “Calum, your arm-” 

“I know, man. I know. It- ah, fuck.” Calum clenched his arm with his other hand, seeing the blood drip down to the floor. He drilled his eyes closed, hoping that when he’d open his eyes Michael would be gone, but when he opened them again Michael was still sitting in front of him like the good friend he was.  

Michael knew of Calum’s secret, and tried getting him help for it. He’d almost arranged an appointment with a psych ward shortly before they started touring again, and told Cal he could say he needed to see his family and unplug for a while. Calum politely declined, saying that he was ‘fit for tour’ and that he could handle everything. 

Michael took a breath and stared at his best friend. "Cal, you can't keep doing this, it's not healthy." His words were truthful, but still hurt Calum nonetheless. 

“You think I don’t know that?!” Calum cried. He shot up from his hunched figure and started for the door. Reaching for the door handle, Cal turned his head towards Michael and breathed:

“I can’t keep living like this.” 

Calum bolted out the door towards his dressing room, running for some kind of support, some kind of comfort, some kind of safety. 

In the process, he accidentally rammed into Ashton in the hallway. Calum hit him so hard that he actually fell to the ground, causing him to land on the floor. 

“Whoa, easy there, tiger.” Ashton joked, reaching out his arm down to pull Calum up. 

A frantic Michael burst into the room after Cal, breathless and shaken. “Calum!”

Ashton whipped his head, surprised to see Michael. While Ashton was distracted, Cal pushed himself up from the ground, in the midst placing his arms behind him, trying to hide his arm from Ashton and now Michael. Tears brimmed Cal’s eyes and mentally prepared himself, knowing that this was about to be more than Calum apologizing to Ashton for running into him.

Luke popped into the door frame, hearing all the ruckus. “What’s going on?” 

Calum subtly wiped his eyes, tears starting to escape from them. He couldn’t do this right now. All he could hear was the frantic heartbeat in his temple, and the voice in his head screaming at him to shut down and close off his best friends. 

Michael had enough of this. He knew Calum too well and knew that he wasn't going to change his habit anytime soon. So, he decided to speak up. 

“Calum, you know I love you man, and this is your issue, but…” 

He shook his head and pleaded Michael through his eyes not to do this right now, but Michael didn’t care.

Calum needed help. 

“...either you tell them or I will.” 

 Luke said, his eyebrows furrowing together in concern. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

Calum dropped his gaze to the floor and hesitantly brought his arms forward. All three pairs of eyes landed on his arm as Calum lifted his sleeve, unveiling the fresh and old scars that scattered along it. There were about 10 cuts or so, ranging from shorter, barely noticeable lines to longer, deeper ones. 

Luke and Ashton’s stomach dropped, hating the way they both didn’t know what was happening with him. They felt guilty in a way, mentally kicking themselves that they possibly could have contributed to Calum doing this. 

The new cut was somewhat healed now, so it wasn’t as gruesome as Michael had seen it before, but it still pained all three of them to see that Calum’s obsession was somewhat current. 

“Cal,” Ashton started. 

“There’s other ways to cope.” Luke chimed in. 

“I know that!” Cal’s voice boomed in the room. “I’ve tried all the shit you guys have tried, but nothing helps.” His voice sounded beaten and tired amongst the quiet room. 

In a fit of anxiousness and a bit of annoyance, Calum started for his dressing room again, but got blocked by Luke’s tall, strong stature. He fought and fought against him until he felt Luke’s strong arms against his body, feeling the contrast of his warm skin against his.

“It’s okay, Cal. You’re safe.”

Ashton made his way over to Calum and Luke. “We can get you help.”

Calum lied so plainly it was routine for him, “It’s fine, guys. I’m okay.” 

“You’re clearly not.” Michael said, crouching down to meet Calum's eyeline. 

“Please let us help you, mate.” Ashton said, following after Michael’s action. 

All three of their gaze finally got through to Calum. Broken sobs erupted from him, the boys’ message clear as day. They wanted to help him. Though they didn’t know exactly every emotion Calum was experiencing, they understood a fraction of it because they were in the same boat. All four of them had different experiences with anxiety and their own personal journey with it, but then it hit him: 

They boys would always be there for him. Whether he thought so or not.  

Cal thought about how lucky he was that there were people that could and wanted to help him, and finally decided to accept their help.

“Okay.”

[niennandil-me-writes]

2022 retrospective

I created this blog in January of 2022, so I would have a place that isn’t fandom-based to share my writing. Even then, I didn’t expect I’d post this much.

2022 is the year I wrote more than any other year of my life. According to my AO3 statistics, the writing I posted sums up to over 65.000 words (and that is just the work I was comfortable sharing publicly, that doesn’t even include all the smut and vent that I only let a select few see, nor the snippets on my nsfw account, though those are pretty short). That’s more than 3 times the length of the version of 10^infinity that I wrote in 2020 and never posted (which was the first longer story I have finished).

2022 is the year I stopped being a would-be-author and became a writer. I stopped thinking about those big projects that I’m going to write someday, and just started writing. What helped me more than anything was writing short form. With the stories I had tried to work on so far, I’d always been too preoccupied to getting as many words written as possible so I’d reach the good stuff, the few scenes I was writing this for, so I didn’t focus on writing the scenes I was already writing at in an interesting way, and often it felt hollow, like I had built a giant house with no furnishing. With the short oneshots I wrote this year, I was already at the good stuff and I could feel how that improved my writing style, since now I was thinking about every sentence and tried to make every paragraph a joy to read instead of a hurdle to get over. For the first time, I didn’t just think of writing as a complete story but a sum of parts, and that led me to write some sentences that I was proud of fully on their own.

2022 is the year I really got into gore. I wrote my first gorepiece in 2020 and was too ashamed of it to even jokingly admit I’d written something like that. In 2021, I wrote more, but was always careful to keep the descriptions short, so nobody would notice how much I liked writing it. Now “gore” is one of the most used tags on this blog. And of course, I participated in and finished my first Goretober challenge. I’m still quite proud of that.

2022 is the year I stopped writing for an imaginary audience of hundreds and started writing for myself and the few friends that are interested in it. That wouldn’t have been possible if I hadn’t met these friends (mostly through pen and paper), and I am forever grateful for them. I won’t tag you in this, but you know who you are. Your comments, whether fully formulated and constructive or enthusiastic keysmashes, keep me going in this, thank you.

2022 is also the year I started writing for myself. Of course, I’m still happy when other people read my writing, but I noticed that it just made the whole thing more stressful both for me and my readers if I had expectations on who would read my writing and would react to it. I’m now making a conscious effort to not think about that too much. When I write, I want to think of my words, not the responses of other people, and when other people read, they should be focused on the writing, not me figuratively staring at them over the edge of the paper and waiting for their reaction.

I’ve been thinking a lot about these changes in my writing process lately, and how they helped me write more and better than I used to, and I needed to put these thoughts into words, even if it just seems like rambling now that I’m writing this down on New Year’s Eve, with just a few more hours left where it’s considered appropriate to post sappy retrospectives like this.

As for my next goals...

After becoming so comfortable with short writing this year, I want to tackle something of medium length next, slowly working myself towards those epics I used to dream of writing. I’m thinking something with five to eight chapters, maybe around 10.000 words. I have ideas for that in mind already (2 of them fanfictions and 2 original works), but I’ll see where I will take it.

Thank you for reading. I hope all of you have a happy new year.

[clairecrive]

Hi could we please get a really angsty fic with nikolai (with a happy ending pls) where reader and he has had a fight so they maintain the facade on the outside bc they're royals but in private it's just ignoring each other/angst?

Young Royals

A/N: ahh, this is angsty alright but it seems I'm only capable of writing hurt/comfort lately. This took a life of its own and it's long af but I hope you like it anyway x

Warnings: miscommunication, angst, fighting, hurt/comfort, Nikolai is a bit absent, you're a bit jealous of his relationship with Zoya

Tags: @jupiterandbutterflies, @agentsofsheilds , @for-bebbanburg , @randomoutsiders , @pansysgirlfriend , @hannaxmaria , @vintagebitc , @story-scribbler , @crowssixof , @odetostep,@lizzie-he4rts, @korol-lantsov, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @gallysonegoodlung, @a-c-lee, @mriddlemethis, @carnationworld,@thanossexual, @luvxginger, @sanna2020,@partiesandblurrypolaroids, @edithsvoice, @wafflesandschemingfaces (tag list form)

SHADOW AND BONE MASTERLIST

"Do not put words into my mouth, Nikolai."

"Please, you already have so many, my love," he scoffed and the use of the term of endearment hurt the most.

"You're making me sound like a brat while I'm providing you with a viable solution," you insisted with a flare of your hands, frustrated by his unwillingness to listen to you.

"No, you're not. What you're doing is being childish."

"I'm your queen, Nikolai. I'm only asking to be more involved."

"You're my wife, y/n, and you know nothing about politics or running a country." He retired, putting emphasis on wife. This felt a lot like being put into place. And the fact that it was your husband doing so, hurt. It was also the most you had seen him this week.

"Neither did Zoya, nor Genya or anyone who's currently running the country."

"That's different and you know it."

"Only because you're making it so," you exclaimed finally exploding. His despondency got on your nerves and this conversation was going nowhere anyway.

Surprised by your raise of voice, Nikolai stood before you just blinking at you.

Sighing, you took a step toward him, holding your hands up, "look, you're right, I don't know about running a country but teach me. I'm not stupid, I'll pick it up."

"Why are you insisting so much? You've never shown any interest in politics before." He gave you a puzzled look like he didn't really believe your intentions.

"I've never wanted to be queen before." before meeting you.

"Ah, I see," he chuckled mirthlessly, "I put you in this situation and now you're taking your revenge."

To insinuate that your marriage with him was you "being put into a situation" rather than a consensual decision you had made out of love was absurd.

Nikolai was right. You had never cared about politics or diplomacy before meeting him. You were a soldier. There was no reason for you to meddle with something that didn't concern you.

But now you were queen and you felt a responsibility towards your people. You wanted to help but so far, Nikolai hadn't allowed you to take part in any meetings. He said that anyone who needed to be there was already involved. What he didn't tell you was that while Grisha made excellent soldiers and even good councillors, one of them being a royal was a very different matter.

He had indulged his love for you by marrying you. You were his vice and he simply couldn't accept the idea of being without you anymore. He had married you, consequently making you queen, going against what his advisors told him.

While he ignored his warnings he was painfully aware, however, how difficult it was going to be for a Grisha on the throne. It was the first time something liked this had ever happened and unfortunately, the country was filled with people who resented Grisha for their powers.

Nikolai feared that the people were never going to accept you. Hence why he'd been keeping you secluded in the palace.

To be fair, you were doing a wonderful job. Like he had pointed out, you were not accustomed to politics but you made up for that with empathy and kindness. You started to interest yourself with the problem of poverty and lack of provisions for some parts of the country.

And while no one was aware of it, Nikolai often turned to you for military strategy. You were an apt soldier and had fought bravely alongside him and everyone else in the battle of the Fold. You were the very reason why he was still alive, to be honest.

While this arrangement worked for the first months of your reign, it was starting to feel an inadequate effort. You needed to do more, you wanted to do more. You didn't expect Nikolai to oppose it so vehemently.

"If I didn't want to be here I wouldn't be, Nikolai, you'd do well to remember it," you pointed out coldly, straightening your spine.

"Since you seem so adverse at spending time with me or including me in important matters, I'll find someone else who will." And with that, chin held high, you walked out of the room.

You missed him. It felt absurd to say this but you missed your husband. He was always busy with meetings or official visits to some noble across the country. For most of them, he went alone or with Zoya.

You knew that she was his first in command but you couldn't help but be bothered by it. It was one thing to accept the fact that he hadn't given the role to you "because the queen cannot have that role as well", it was a whole other thing to accept the fact that another woman spent more time with your husband than you did.

Countless were the fights you had with him in this regard. But they were pointless. Nikolai was still set on not bringing you and he and Zoya were always found together.

You didn't know what hurt more. The blow at your pride for being denied a position you deserved because of who you loved, the jealousy or being punished for your identity.

One thing was sure though, it was getting too much. At first, you pulled thought for Nikolai but now that you didn't have him anymore, your efforts seemed to be in vain.

So, like you had told Nikolai, you looked for someone who was willing to teach you. You wanted to help and if Nikolai wasn't going to let you here at the palace, then you'd find somewhere else.

Count Kirigin had always been nice to you and he was a very generous host. You knew that he played a central role in Nikolai's plan so you thought that there was no one better than him.

You reached out to him, wrote him a letter in which you showed interest in his activity and asked him if he was willing to show you. Of course, anything that came from the queen or the king couldn't be denied but you knew that the Count truly enjoyed your company. If your position didn't put so much higher than everybody else, you'd even consider him a friend.

You waited for his reply before putting in motion the preparations for your departure.

In the meantime, you and Nikolai kept conducting your separate lives. Usually, you'd only see him at night when he returned to your chambers if you were still up. Now, you had decided to sleep in separate rooms too.

If he wanted a wife, then a wife he'd get. But kings and queens do not sleep together.

If the new arrangement was bothering him, you didn't know. He hadn't reached out to you nor made any move to rectify your decision.

Turns out that he wasn't even at the Palace. He had left for a mission near the border with Shu Han and wouldn't be back for at least a week. Well, then. Of course, he didn't even bother with telling you. Not even a small note.

Jokes on him though, you thought, since when he was going to come back, he'd finally get what he wanted. You weren't going to be there to bother him anymore.

Differently from him though, you did indeed left him a note. Nikolai found it a week after you had set it on his pillow. Its presence made him furrow his eyebrows since he had already been wondering where you were. You usually came out to meet him at the gates whenever he'd come back from a mission and even though you had fought before he went away, you weren't one for holding grudges. So e guessed there was something holding you.

Unfolding the paper he was met with your familiar chaotic writing.

"I don't know when you're going to find this letter but if I'm not there yet it means that I'm still at Count Kirigin's. Do not bother with writing or visiting, I'll come back when my business with him is done.

Y/n"

What in the name of every sweet loving saint???

The letter wasn't dated, no dear, no yours no nothing. Fuck. You were still mad or worse, hurt.

Asking one of the servants, he learned that you had been away for a week already. But what business could you possibly have with the Count??

Nikolai had nothing against him. Seeing Kirigin get all flustered as he tried to flirt with Zoya amused him to no end but the idea of him and you in the same house? Alone?? Unacceptable.

Not even bothering to change clothes after his long journey, Nikolai headed to the stables to ask for a well-rested horse. Luckily, Count Kirigin's estate was not too far away. A couple of hours ride.

Turns out that the Count had a lot to teach. Despite his aloof reputation and extravagant clothes, he was very observant. He lacked ambition, which was why Nikolai trusted him and had a curious way of behaving in social situations.

But Emil had been born and raised in high society. He knew how things were run even if he had no desire to be in charge of them.

So far, you'd be having a wonderful time. Emil was a wonderful host, as you remembered, but without Nikolai's presence, he was even more extravagant. He had an unexpectedly dry sense of humour and a never-ending list of jokes.

Being in the open and in the company of someone who saw y/n instead of the Queen of Ravka proved to be even more needed than you thought. You felt reinvigorated and much lighter than you'd ever been.

You had also been learning a lot. Emil had been teaching you about diplomacy. About the best ways of formulating a sentence so that you wouldn't offend anyone but still get what you wanted. He had also been talking to you about your husband's ministers. About their weaknesses and vices and what was the best way to approach them to get what you wanted.

So far, it was proving to be a wonderful decision to come here.

Whenever your mind strayed on Nikolai, you willed it to focus on something else. You didn't know if he had already come home or seen the letter. A part of you thought that if he had, he would at least write one back. But the thought felt a lot like hope and seeing as how little he saw you even before you left, you didn't think it safe to harbour it.

When Nikolai reached the estate, he was met with Kirigin's servants. They welcomed him inside and profusely apologised for the Count's absence. They told him that at this time of the day, Kirigin and his guest would usually go out on a ride but that they were also about to return.

So Nikolai waited, sitting in the most comfortable chair the Count owned, fuming at the thought that his wife had felt the need to go away and be in the company of another man.

"If I didn't want to be here, I wouldn't be Nikolai. You'd do well to remember it."

Your words haunted him. They were the last thing that you told him. How stupid had he been to let you walk away. How utterly careless of him to disregard you like that.

He had promised himself to truly talk to you about it once this pressing matter of state was taken care of. Apparently, he had waited too long.

But Nikolai knew that the problem was at the source. He noticed how hurt you had been when he made Zoya his first in command. Or how sad you seemed everywhere he went somewhere with her and didn't ask you to join.

He was doing so to protect you from the inevitable slander you'd be met with. He should have known though that putting you aside was going to be even worse. You were a fighter just as much as Zoya was, if not stronger.

She hid behind her veil of indifference and superiority while you had never lost that emphatic verve that made everyone love you so much. In his attempt to make you safe, he had only managed to hurt you.

You were a warrior. You had accepted the role of queen only because it was the only way for you to be with Nikolai. And instead of praising you by making you a warrior queen, he had decided to hide you away.

Well, no more.

If his mistakes had not ruined everything already, he was going to make everything better.

Lost in his musing, he didn't hear the sound of hooves approaching but he did indeed hear your laugh. It immediately brought him back to the present and a wave of ugly jealousy hit him.

He couldn't remember the last time he made you laugh.

"I shouldn't even laugh Emil, the joke was terrible," Nikolai hear you giggling from somewhere in the hall. So now he was Emil, huh.

"You know you can't resist my charm, your highness," Emil replied and Nikolai had to call on every bit of his self-control to not barge out of the room and punch him.

"Stop it, you know you can call me y/n."

Before Emil could reply, they had both made it to the sitting room where Nikolai was waiting for them. It looked like no one had warned them of his presence because Kirigin looked surprised then utterly mortified.

"Your majesty, I wasn't aware you were here. Please forgive me for making you wait."

"Don't fret Kirigin, it was an impromptu visit. I came to see how my lovely wife was doing." No matter how green he was feeling right now, he knew that Kirigin was loyal to him and the crown. Whatever was happening here wasn't one of his schemes.

"Of course! I'm going to send for some tea while you two get reunited." Kirigin quickly bowed before hurrying out of the room.

Nikolai met your eyes for the first time since you had arrived. If at first, you were surprised to see him, now you couldn't help but be a bit sceptical about this visit.

"What are you doing here?" you asked breaking the ice.

"You leave with only a few lines on where you're going and you expect me to just accept it?" He scoffed, his hands curling on the armrests of the chair.

"It's more than what you gave me," you quipped, crossing your arms on your chest.

Nikolai sighed while his gloved hands run through his hair. You were right and he knew it. He had been a horrible husband lately.

"I know you're mad at me, honey, but listen-"

"I'm not mad. You didn't want to give me what I wanted so I went looking for it somewhere else." Scrolling your shoulders, you interrupted him without meeting his eyes. A list of excuses was not what you wanted nor what you needed from him.

Nikolai didn't miss the innuendo. His jaw clenched, his hands closed in fists. But he willed himself to stay calm.

"You think Kirigin can give you something that I can't?" Nikolai was a master in diplomacy. Never did he get frustrated or angry or raised his voice, even with the most aggravating people. Here though, with you, he didn't have to keep a façade. He spoke through his teeth barely containing his anger.

"Well, so far, he's been giving me attention and interesting pointers that no, Nikolai, you refused to give me."

"So this is how you solve your problems? Running away in the countryside with Emil?" Nikolai sneered, his tone souring around Kirigin's name.

"Don't you do the same with your precious first in command?" Tired after your ride with Emil, you plopped down on the chair in front of Nikolai's. Completely ignoring his tone, you pointed out calmly. The perfect image of aloofness even when it was the last thing you were in this moment.

"That's different," he snapped trying to meet your eyes that were carefully analyzing your hands.

"Yes," you signed, "it seems that when I'm concerned everything is different."

"There's nothing between me and Zoya, y/n and you know it." Nikolai was getting more frustrated by the second. He came here to apologize, to make things right and so far, the conversation was going in the opposite directions.

"Maybe now, but you spend more time with her than you do with me. It's only a matter of time before it happens and you're sorely mistaken if you think I'll just stand by and watch."

"This is not about Zoya," he insisted but so far, he wasn't getting the reaction out of you he wanted. You seemed... resigned at the situation. And that worried Nikolai to no end.

"It never is."

"Why did you run away?" Opting for a more direct approach, he bit the bullet and went straight to the point.

"I did not run away," you scoffed in contempt at his choice of words, "I told you I wanted to do more and Emil is teaching me. Not everyone is so against spending time with me, you know." You shot him a glance.

It was the first time that you had looked at him since you had been left alone.

"I married you, y/n. How can you possibly believe I don't want to spend time with you?" As desperation slipped through his words, Nikolai leaned towards you in his seat. As if he couldn't bear the distance between you anymore. But you knew it wasn't that. You and he had been distant for months now.

"Because that's what's happening, Nikolai," you clipped back and Nikolai had to refrain from wincing at your tone.

"It's not intentional, my love, I've just been busy." His tone softened. It was a poor excuse of an apology but it was sadly the truth.

"But when I say that I want to join or help you with it you strongly oppose?" Again, there was that suspicious implication in your words that Nikolai just couldn't stand. To think that you believed he'd ever cheat on you with another woman when he had done so much, taken so many risks, to be with you.

"It's not what you think, y/n." He insisted again but immediately realized he had said the wrong thing when he saw you leaning back into your chair shaking your head.

"I don't think anything, anymore. Do whatever you want. You do your thing and I'll do mine. I won't be a bother to you anymore." Holding up your hands, you gestured as you spoke.

A beat. Nikolai froze in his seat at what you were suggesting.

"You're never a bother to me. Never." He leaned even forwards in his chair, basically only propping on it now. The desperation was now clear in his voice. He reached out to you to try and take hold of your hands but you were too distant.

"I love you more than anything in this world and if you think that I'm going to let you go without a fight, you're sorely mistaken." The steel determination of his words caught you off guard. Nikolai was strong-headed, you knew that better than anyone else, but it had been a long while since that determination had been directed to you.

"You already did." It was barely a whisper. The sad truth about your reality, the downfall of your relationship. The wavering of your voice, the pain in your eyes were enough to tip Nikolai off the edge.

"Milaya, please."He fell onto his knees in front of you. Leaning forward he reached for your hands that he could now hold. "I'm sorry. I put you in a difficult position when I married you and I tried my best to protect you."

"I don't need protecting, Nikolai, especially if it's by pushing me away."

"I was keeping you away from danger and I know that you're strong and capable but I hate to think of you as the object of public slander." His eyes darted between yours, frantic, desperate to make you understand.

"I'm Grisha, Nikolai. It's nothing new to me," you pointed out but then it hit you.

"By difficult position, you meant a Grisha Queen, didn't you?" Your eyes hardened at the implications, your hands going slack in his hold. You would have pulled them away if Nikolai didn't tighten his hold.

"Please, do not think I'm regretting my choice or I think you're not worthy of the title because that's not true." Pulling your hands, he tried to get you closer to him. "I fear that there will be repercussions among the people." And there it was, at last, the truth.

"And among your ministers," you added remembering Emil's lessons on the people at court and their role.

You scoffed when he stayed silent. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought I was doing the right thing, my love."

"So Zoya can handle it and I can't?"

"For the millionth time," he groaned, "I don't care about Zoya."

"I only care about you and I know you can handle it. I just didn't want you to. You deserve happiness and peaceful life and I know it's impossible to have in this saints' forsaken country but I can at least try." His eyes lowered in shame and his confession sent a pang through your heart. You took a moment to take in what he said.

Never had you thought about the possibility of Nikolai's distance was a form of protection. You were a soldier of the Second Army, after all. But being a queen, especially a Grisha one, was a delicate thing.

It was the first time in history that something like this happened. Nikolai's worries were not unfounded since even after the destruction of the Fold, anti-Grisha movements were spreading fast.

It was sad to see the General's attempt of assuring safety for Grisha, provoking exactly the opposite thing.

"Oh, Kolya," returning his grip, you leaned towards him, "I just want a life with you by my side."

"As do I. I want you always and forever but above all, I want you safe. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you, you know it right?"

"I just ask that you tell me the truth and let me play the role I've been given."

"It's not going to be easy. People at court-"

"I know. That's why I'm here. Emil's been teaching."

"Well, no more. I'm going to take care of it from now on."

"Is this a promise or a threat?"

"Rest assured my love, the difference between the two is almost nonexistent." He flashed you a smirk and you couldn't help but smile at him. Here it was, your beloved Nikolai.

"Things are going to change, aren't they?" you murmured softly as he gently rested his forehead against yours.

"We're going to show everyone what a "power couple" is." Here was his promise. Sealed with the gentlest nudging of his nose to yours. The action made you smile and your heart soar. You missed these little moments of intimacy with him.

One of his hands came to cradle your face as the other kept hold of your left hand. Your rings softly clicked as they touched. A form of reassurance.

"I love you, y/n."

"And I you, Kolya."

You were completely lost in your little bubble, even more so when Nikolai's lips finally met yours, that you had forgotten where you were. And that there was an embarrassed Kirigin outside the door waiting for the right moment to come in with tea.

[mammonsturtle]

All We Do Pt. 3

Apologies to everyone, I’ve been in a creative slump for the past couple of months, still kind of am as this isn’t proofread. D: And I still haven’t thought of a fully thought out plot for this series, but this series will probably still be a work in progress. Next part, a bit long to make up for my absence. thanks for reading!

A/N: I know I put in my masterlist that I don’t write yandere(only because I feel I don’t think I can pull it off) but I feel like I’ve given Diavolo a tint of yandere tendencies. Feedback on this would be helpful! Thank you!

@kimpsuwuw @shuriiiewrites @jhopesstickeredcarrier @letsblazewolf

(Prologue) (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5)

Peace and quiet, it was something that Lucifer wanted on most days when his brothers always made a ruckus in the home. But now that he got it, it was almost unnerving as the constant ticking of the old grandfather clock echoed in the mostly silent study. Besides the boosted bass of Leviathan’s boss battle music that could be heard every other night, that was it. Mealtimes now were quiet with scattered small talk between the brothers as Mammon was usually the one keeping things interesting with the brothers.

Mammon not being home for a day or two was normal, three, four, and five days in a row was pushing Lucifer’s patience and planted the seed of worry in him. They found it worrying that he wasn’t answering his phone as it went straight to voicemail. Odd behavior as his room was locked and no answer came from it as Beelzebub was the one constantly checking on his older brother. The excuse of Mammon being up in the human world for days on end, was starting lose traction with the brothers. They couldn’t ignore this anymore. 

“I’m tearing down the door.” Beel had decided as he left the table, leaving the rest of the brothers and surprisingly his breakfast untouched. Since Mammon had left, he found it hard to eat anything. He had felt guilty that he hadn’t decided to break the door down even after the day after the punishment, and he had hoped it wasn’t too late. 

Before Lucifer could utter a word, Belphie nodded as he’d join his twin. Things had gone far too quiet for his liking as he couldn’t sleep much nor he or Satan get themselves together to formulate a prank for Lucifer.

“I have to admit, it’s worrying that he’s not answering his phone. And I doubt he’s got any money on him to do anything outside the house. Lucifer did confiscate his card.” Satan deduces from the lack of any recent activity from Mammon.

Asmo, who would normally pick on Mammon and tease him maliciously nodded as he sighs. “But...Mammon might be in the human world tending to the witches..right?” he mumbles as he fiddles with his scarf, Mammon didn’t show up for one of his Majolish shoots. And it was one both brothers had been had been going against each other for the spot.

A loud crash interrupts Lucifer this time as Beelzebub had broke the door down, and the brothers rush to Mammon’s room and stop and gasp at the room before them. Only to find the room void of the brother, but what was left of the night of his last punishment had been scattered all over the floor. 

The bandages from previous punishments had filled the trash bin, dried and days old blood had soaked the bandages among numerous first aid kits that was hoarded in the corner of the room. 

“Hey~! This is my first aid kit!” Asmo complained as he took his customized bunny pink kit, finding the bandages and rubbing alcohol all but used up. “And this one is Satan’s, and the twins..and from everywhere else in the house.” Asmo noted as he frowned, he couldn’t imagine what Mammon was going through by himself after the night of the last punishment.

“Look! Mammon’s phone!” Satan pointed as he decided to turn it on, seeing all the missed texts and calls they had all sent, all unread and all missed. “And his wallet!” Leviathan called out as he opened it, nothing there of course. But he knew something was wrong if Mammon left the house without either his wallet or phone. Remembering the last words he said to Mammon, dread comes over him. What if he went and had done the unthinkable? It was all his fault wasn’t it?

Lucifer, who had been silent the whole time couldn’t ignore what might have transpired here that led to his favorite brother’s disappearance. Something inside the second born snapped he had enough, it must have been enough to leave his wallet and his phone, both items up there with money itself.

Both sat there untaken and he was gone. It clearly his fault that Mammon was gone and he knew it. All the brothers knew they had played a part in their brother going missing, as much as they didn’t want to admit it. And now had to face the reality before them.

“Are his windows usually locked?” Satan asked as he had moved on and noticed how the curtains had looked disturbed and a faint boot print was left on the windowsill. “They ought to be,” Lucifer murmurs as he looks at the print, looking like the heel end left an imprint and he growls lowly. 

“Someone took him.” Lucifer turns towards the door, “We have to look for him. Someone must know where he is.” The brothers all silently nodded as they followed suit, getting a hold of all the connections they knew to see if any knew of Mammon’s whereabouts.

“Mammon please.” Lucifer silently prays to himself, “Please be safe and sound. Please, we’ll make it up to you. No matter how long it takes for you to forgive us.”

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

In the meantime, Mammon had been adjusting to living in the Demon Lord’s Castle. All staff were to withhold Mammon’s whereabouts, lest they faced the wrath of Diavolo. It usually meant he had been skulking around the royal treasury more often than not. Only to be stopped by the Little Ds who would threaten to rat him out to Barbatos. 

The castle was set in such regal and proper formality that he couldn’t help but feel out of place. The demon of greed found himself without much to do as he resorted to keeping to himself in his room with visits from his crow familiars. Little trinkets and stolen grimm gave him some comfort, too bad he couldn’t get them to get his wallet and phone. 

Despite attending many balls and events throughout the many years, the castle would be so full of life. But as he was living in now, it seemed awfully lonely and void of any excitement. At least the House of Lamentation had life with the brothers’ usual antics, sometimes at his own expense.

It had been about five days and four nights since Diavolo plucked him out of the house and he couldn’t help but wonder and wallow in his thoughts. Were they happy now that he was gone? Were they happy that their scumbag excuse for a brother wasn’t there to steal their precious belongings? His brothers were much happier without him, he had now come to terms with it. 

 He relented and decided to pop a visit to Diavolo, he hadn’t seen the Prince since he had let him stay with him. Work perhaps? He was just as notorious with work like Lucifer,  He needed to get out of the castle, being cooped up here was close to giving Mammon cabin fever.

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

Diavolo in the few days seemed to have more of a reason to get through his never-ending paperwork, not without Barbatos looking through them for mistakes. The sooner he got work finished, the sooner he’d get to lollygag with Mammon for the time being. 

He always did find the second born quite exciting and full of life, and craved the freedom that Mammon seemed to possess. Perhaps it was because no one took Mammon seriously that he had so much time on his hands? Perhaps, he was aware on how the brothers always treated Mammon in the council meetings. 

A knock came to the door as Diavolo sighs at his final paper, “Come in Barbatos.” he responds as he didn’t bother looking up. “Far from bein’ Barbatos D.” At the sound of the second born’s voice, Diavolo immediately perked up and chuckled, “Ah. Mammon, apologies.” he says as he sets his paper aside and studies the man before him. 

Mammon shook his head, “Ain’t nothing to be sorry for,” he replied as he noted the stacks of documents, “Pulling a Lucifer ain’t ya?.” he stated as he hadn’t seen the Prince too often since he’s been here.

“I suppose I haven’t been much help in helping you completely adjust here.” Diavolo says guiltily as Mammon was here for a few days but still felt uneasy living here if Diavolo wasn’t around. “Shall we go out? My treat for the lack of time I’ve would have liked to spend time with you.” The prince offers as Mammon tilts his head before looking towards the door.

“Ain’t we gonna get caught by Barbatos? The man’s practically yer shadow.” he asked as Diavolo chuckles, “No. Lately he’s been impressed that I’ve gotten through my workload for once, in a very long time I might add.” Diavolo gets up from his desk and casually puts his arm around Mammon’s shoulder, the second born stiffening at the touch as his eyes widened and tentatively gazed at him.

Diavolo chuckles lowly, the last time he had touched Mammon was comforting him from his nightmare when he had arrived at the castle. It looked like his nightmares had been subdued for the time being. “Come now Mammon, it wouldn’t be right to keep a crow in its cage forever.” Diavolo reasons, as Mammon flushes slightly and stuttered, “...F-F-Fine! But you’re treating me to the best you’re offering!” he turned away in embarrassment.

Diavolo only chuckles once more and cups Mammon’s warm and reddening cheek, before bringing his face into his view. “Of course, nothing but the best for the Great Mammon, isn’t that right?”

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

“You sure we can be out like this? Ain’t someone gonna notice us?” Mammon half whispering to Diavolo as they sat at a booth at Ristorante Six, nervous that the brothers by now had been out looking for him. Diavolo chuckled as he leaned back into his seat, “Worry not Mammon, I’ve casted a spell that makes us less conspicuous. For good measure, I’ve even altered our voices and looks if that makes you feel safer. Do you see how no one is paying attention to us?” Diavolo explains as Mammon looks around.

Diavolo was a regular here with Lucifer mostly in tow with him. But it looked like things carried on as usual. “Yeah. I guess....So can I get everything on the menu?” he asked with a boyiish grin as Diavolo shook his head, “And give ourselves away Mammon? Not tonight, perhaps another night? Just with us two when I rent the whole place out.” 

Seeing how he couldn’t splurge on everything and give themselves away, Mammon settled for the most expensive thing on the menu as Diavolo had his usual. Having such a lavish meal sitting in front of him was new for Mammon compared to the usual meals he had with his brothers, “Mammon? Is something wrong? Does this not please you?” Diavolo asks the white haired demon across him, initially giddy but now fiddled with his food, Mammon shook his head. 

“Ya think I deserve this?” he mumbled as Diavolo reaches out and gently places his hand on Mammon’s. “Do you think that little of yourself Mammon?” Mammon stares down at his plate for a moment, “Well...Yeah. If that’s all my brothers see me as a worthless piece of scum, why be anything else?”

Diavolo shakes his head as his thumb gently brushed against Mammon’s hand, “But MC never saw you in that light, didn’t they?” Once he had mentioned you, Mammon’s head lifts up, receiving a sympathetic look from the Prince as he mentioned you. You were the reason he was in this situation, wasn’t it? “MC...MC really did want me safe with you?” he questioned as Diavolo simply nodded, “As MC’s last request yes. Plus, you are a dear friend of mine Mammon.”

Diavolo pauses and lets out a sigh and frowns slightly. “Of course, you are more than welcome to head back home and get your things. And if you seek your brothers, you are welcome to do so as well-” 

“No. I’m not going back.” Mammon clenched his silverware and gave the Prince a look of conviction, “I want to respect MC’s last request too.” he swore, as your first, he’d see this through.

“A toast Mammon, to MC.” the Prince offered as he poured Mammon a glass of demonus. Mammon smiled a little, he did owe it to you that he wasn’t his brother’s punching bag for the last few days. He lifts his glass, “To MC.” he clinks his glass against Diavolo’s before downing the liquid. As Mammon guzzled down the alcohol, he missed the flash of amusement within the gold eyes that watched him.

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

One bottle, two bottles, three bottles. Of the finest demonus Ristorante Six that Diavolo could afford, and Mammon was literally drinking them straight from. Perhaps a little too much as even against the demon’s tanned skin, Mammon flushed a crimson red as he groaned against the table.

“Oh dear me, Mammon. I suppose you’ve had a bit too much to drink.” Diavolo points out as at the moment Mammon had slouched onto the table, nearly knocking the contents of the table over but kept a hold onto the bottle of demonus. Mammon slowly lifts his head up and scowled at Diavolo. 

“...Shuddup Lucifer, you ain’t the boss of me. Quit tellin’ me what ta do.” he grumbled as brought the bottle closer to him. This was new, he’d never seen Mammon act like this, at least Lucifer didn’t let Mammon make a scene like this. He shakes his head as he reaches for the bottle, “Now now Mammon. I think it’s time we go.” he gently coos as he attempted to coax the bottle from Mammon.

Once he touched the bottle, Mammon growled in his drunken state, “I said shuddup ya pompous peacock!” his voiced raised in annoyance as he drew attention from the other patrons. It was a good thing the spell was still in effect as Diavolo shakes his head, “Dear me. Mammon, if you cease this, I’ll give you my card, alright?” he bargained as he held out a black credit card for him. 

Mammon, who didn’t have his beloved Goldie with him perked up. Well, in the most druken way possible. “Oi...A credit card...? For meh...?” he slurred as Diavolo quickly withholds the card, “Ah, ah. Behave yourself Mam,” he scolded lightly, “Be good and this card is yours.” he bargains as Mammon snarls lowly. “Why ya gotta keep everything from me? Stupid Pridey Prideface..”

“Apologies, my lover isn’t feeling himself. Keep the change waiter.” Diavolo says as he hands the waiter a wad of the brown banknotes. Oh, he let that slip didn’t he? Well, he might as well be if was making a scene as the waiter nervously scurried off. Once that was taken care of, as gently as he could put a firm hold on Mammon, “Come now, can’t have you making more a scene than you have Little Crow.”

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

All though he went out verbally lashing out at ‘Lucifer’ the whole way, Mammon had finally fallen asleep once they returned back to the castle. Diavolo made a note for Barbatos to make some hangover soup in the morning for Mammon. Settling into bed, he had let Mammon sleep with him tonight and he sighed in content as he readied himself for rest. 

He promised you that Mammon would be taken care of, however, something was festering underneath such innocent intention. Shoving that thought to the back of his mind for now, his phone rang as Lucifer’s name popped on the screen. So now Lucifer was coming to him for Mammon’s whereabouts?

“Ah, Diavolo. I apologize if I’m interrupting you, but have you or Barbatos have heard anything from or seen Mammon?” Lucifer’s voice questioning as he tried to mask the worry. Diavolo internally scoffed as his eyes darted to the sleeping demon that was currently asleep and cradled against his chest. He had told himself he’d never lie, but for Mammon’s safety, he’d do so to protect him.

“No, I haven’t heard a thing from him. Has something happened?” he asked casually though he masked his disappointment in the elder. Lucifer sighs on the line, “Mammon’s been missing for the last couple of days, we’ve heard nothing from him. We hoped...we hoped he had come to you seeking refuge.” Lucifer admits as his composure started to wane.

“No, we haven’t seen nor heard from Mammon. A brothers’ spat I assume?” Diavolo asks as Lucifer’s silence on the line made it obvious. He wasn’t going to get an answer right away from Lucifer, his pride wouldn’t allow it, Diavolo knew that much. 

He sighs, “I’m sure Mammon will return when he’s ready to come back. He loves you all too much to leave you.” he assures his right hand, “Barbatos and I will keep an eye out Lucifer.” Diavolo affirms as Lucifer lets out a defeated sigh, “Of course. Thank you Diavolo. I’m sorry once again if I interrupted you.” he says before hanging up.

Diavolo sighs as he proceeded to tuck Mammon into his bed and walks out onto the balcony. “Oh MC. I suppose I should thank you?” he lilted as a crow landed on the railing and cawed at Diavolo as it dropped a keychain into his palm. 

“For Mammon?” he asks as he recognizes the chocolate lizard. “I see. Thank you.” he said as he gently strokes the crow’s head with his finger before it caws lowly and flies off. Staring down at the keychain, the chain had been bent and pulled enough by the crows to get it off. He lightly flicks at it as it jingled from the impact, and a small grin crept along his face. “In time Mammon, in time. You will be mine.”

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

“Worry not Mammon, your brothers won’t be able to hurt you anymore.”

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

[scoops-ahoy-fics]

I hope you're still taking requests!

I wanted to possibly ask if you could write a fem!reader (but they/them is fine if you prefer) with Eddie. her parents are arguing and she gets really bad anxiety when people fight so she leaves and shows up at Eddie's doorstep shaking with fear n tears all over her face n he jus takes her to bed n cuddles her and comforts her n jus is so sweet with gentle kisses

sorry if it's too much detail lmao I personally deal with that anxiety all the time n havent seen anyone write it for eddie <3 hope you're well and drink water

let me fix it || eddie munson x reader oneshot

fighting and arguing aren't good for anxiety, but you know that your boyfriend is the cure. eddie knows exactly how to help <3

reader: gender neutral

characters: eddie munson

genre: light angst to major fluff

spoiler warning?: none

notes: AAAAAA THIS REQUEST IS ADORABLE <3 im a sucker for fluff like this and writing stuff like this makes my heart go ckdnxkksoszksk <333 thank you so much for the request! a lil shorter than i wanted it to be but i have a huge headache and brain functions go bye bye

Shouting. You could never get away from it. Even in the safety of your own room. Even buried deep in the corner of your closet, hands tightly pressed to your ears. Every inch of you body was shaking, anxiety rushing through every possible vein in your body. You can take this right now, you need to leave.

Carefully crawling out of your window, you could still hear the arguments from your parents. Each word was another pang in your heart as you tried to formulate thoughts. Where could you go? How far would you have to go to get away from this?

Only one person was on your mind. Eddie. Your boyfriend loved you more than anything, and you knew that he would help. Being with him seemed to melt all of your anxiety away, just with a single touch or word from his mouth. You needed him to fix this.

Thankfully his place wasn't that far of a walk, and you had it memorized. The tears clouding your vision wasn't helping, and the heavy breathing was definitely an inconvenience. You were already anxious, and now you were alone in the middle of the night and no body knew where you were?

You began to pick up the pace, running like the wind as tears cascaded down your cheeks as your thoughts got the best of you, and the worst of you. You raced towards Eddie's trailer frantically, eventually getting to the doorstep. You carefully knocked on the door, your hands shaking. You then rested them on your knees, panting.

Eddie opened the door, about to lean against the doorway before his eyes widened. “Hon, what are you doin' here so late? You should be in bed, wh-” he said as you looked up at him, seeing all the tears on your face. And that's when he leapt into action.

He gently took your face in his hands and wiped the tears, giving you a gentle kiss on the forehead. “Can I carry you to my bedroom? You look like you're about to pass out baby, I don't need you dying on me,” he chuckled softly, trying to lighten the mood.

After a shake-y nod from you, Eddie carefully picked you up bridal style and carried you to his bed. He laid you down, wiping the new tears that were forming and cascading down your soft cheeks. “Wanna tell me what's going on, or do you wanna cuddle? Let me do what's best for you and get you calmed down a little bit,” he said in a gentle tone, almost whispering into your ear as he pressed a gentle kiss to your temple.

You looked into his eyes and sniffed softly. “Jus' arguing and stuff, got a l-little scared, j-just needed you ...” you mumbled softly as you shuffled closer. Yes, you were super hot from running, but you didn't care. You needed his arms around you.

Eddie knew what he had to do, carefully wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer. “I've got you now, okay? And nothing's gonna hurt you while I'm here. Mhm, you better believe it,” he said, giving you an exaggerated kiss on the forehead.

A soft giggle left your lips as you looked up at him with a smile. “There's that beautiful smile I love so much, you want more kisses? It looks like you love 'em.”

“I do, I do! I love them,” you said happily, gently kissing his cheek. You were obviously in a better mood, although you weren't entirely calm. You were better than you were, though. And Eddie was over the moon.

Eddie let out a dramatic gasp as you kissed his cheek, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “Well, I love yours too. We got so much in common! Maybe that's why we make such a good couple?” he joked softly, pressing a few more kisses over your face as he held you tight.

You nodded, gently nuzzling your head into his chest as you enjoyed his comfort. “I love you so much,” you said, muffled by the soft cloth of his shirt.

His hands carefully ran across your back, a gentle smile on his face as he realized that you were better. You were safe in his arms, both of you knew that. And he would protect you with everything he could. Eddie loved you, and you knew that for a fact. He would never let you forget that. “I love you too, honey.”

He continued to run gentle circles into your back as he heard soft snores escape your lips. He moved his hand to feel your forehead and arm temperature before deciding you had cooled down enough. Carefully pulling the soft blanket over the two of you, Eddie pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. “Get some rest, you deserve it. Goodnight, babydoll.”

[sparkling-moonbeam]

💜Scaramouche x Reader💜

A/N: This is an idea that suddenly popped out of my mind so I decided to write it. The reader is gender-neutral and this is a fluff. Enjoy reading and have a nice day!

Oh and there are some curse words cause it's Scara.

💜🔮💜🔮💜🔮💜🔮💜🔮💜🔮💜🔮💜🔮💜🔮💜🔮💜🔮💜

Being a harbinger is something you can’t be fully proud of. At least, that’s how you feel upon staring at the badge the Tsaritsa gave you. But you don’t really have a choice, you can’t just pass an opportunity of making your life a bit easier. Even if you try to deny the offer, your head would be a target for the Fatui. Surviving in the cold weather of Snezhnaya is already a pain in the back, you don’t want to make it worse.

Your job as a harbinger is really simple. You seldom cut someone’s throat as you’re more often assigned in “gathering information from the inside” type of missions. When it comes to highly secured territories, you’re the one to take the lead. You don’t need assistance or anything as you mostly take the act you also planned and set it in motion. Maybe it’s from the experience of once working in front of many people, wearing a mask to suit everyone’s taste, pursuing them to trust you.

As the Tsaritsa told you, you’re competent. A people pleaser like you can read people so easily that one look can immediately give you an inference on the personality you will need to portray on your target. When it comes to finishing someone, you do it quickly. As soon as you got their trust, it was also the time to sing them a lullaby to their own doom.

A sigh escaped your lips, being a harbinger sets you in the boundary of everything. It always felt like you’re in between of opposing arguments. It’s thrilling but also confusing, maybe it’s just your morals kicking you in the guts but it’s too late for that. The moment you bow down in front of the Tsaritsa’s throne, it was all gone.

“I never knew a deaf could be a harbinger.”

Your eyes shifted from your badge to the source of the voice. The sixth harbinger, casually hanging out in your office’s couch. He must have entered your office while you’re busy paying attention on your thoughts.

“Do you have any idea how many times I knocked on your door? I would’ve thought you’ve been killed in your office if I didn’t know you any better,” he continued.

“I’m thinking about important stuff, I didn’t notice.”

He scoffed. “You didn’t even bother to apologize, how rude.”

You blinked at him, staring to his eyes. Scaramouche, or also known as Balladeer has been the one to always barge into your office like it was his own for the first months. The first time you met him was just like this, except the fact that you’re working on paper documents that time and he didn’t knocked, he just barged in. You remember how he didn’t ask your name and where you from, just straight up gave the file the Tsaritsa wanted to give to you, informing you with a bunch of small insults here and there before leaving and slamming the door.

Your first thought was maybe he didn’t like you or your impression, not that it matters anyway. Until you found out that he also does that to other harbingers, especially when he’s having too much to work with in his plate.

“You know, no matter how long you looked at that badge, it won’t disappear.”

You look at the balladeer with his statement. He stood up, slowly walking towards your table as he crossed his arms. “I’ve been wanting to ask you this since it’s disturbing my thoughts, are you really…chickening out? After being here for so long, that’s quite disappointing.”

You let out a scoff at his question, your eyes narrowing at his glinted eyes. You know how Scaramouche is, the way he works with his words to initiate tension. You won’t fall for it but still you wanted to admit how well he can cause tension and get away from it.

“You’re asking…me? What happened to your ‘good intuition’, the sixth harbinger?” You retorted, raising an eyebrow.

He chuckled. “That’s more like you. I just hate how you always look at your stupid badge every time I see you, it irks me.”

“That’s more like your problem, not mine.”

“I hate it still, so I will need an explanation.”

“Wow, is this manipulation 101?”

“Y/n.” He sternly called your name, his eyes softening a bit. “I wanted to know if something is bugging your mind, I’ll help if I can.”

You remained silent as a sigh escaped your lips. You reached for the file you’re supposed to read a while ago if only you didn’t space out. “It was nine days ago..”

He hummed urging you to continue. He sat down on the chair opposite to yours, waiting for your next words.

“When I learned something about a certain topic, it’s…quite bizarre.”

You looked at him seriously, his indigo orbs meeting yours. You can see how his trying to listen…how his patience is slowly thinning out on your slow words and his own pretention.

A smile formed your lips. “Gaslighting. Oh, what a bizarre topic and thing to do, right Scaramouche?”

You dramatically placed your hand on your chest as you gave him a look of pity. He clicked his tongue before standing up, fixing his hat in the process.

“Fuck you and your stupid badge.”

You laughed. His visible frustration is entertaining, especially when he cussed. Something about his cussing words just hits deeply, you can’t help but laugh.

“I waste my time for this stupid shit. I should’ve known.”

As he took a step away from table, you quickly stood up, reaching for his hand to stop him. He looked back at you with an annoyed expression. He was about to slap your hands off him but he stopped as soon as he heard you talk.

“Wait, alright. I’m sorry. I mean, I’m not half wrong but..I get the glimpse of what you’re trying to do. Just sit down. I promise, no more jokes.”

It took a couple of seconds before he spoke up. “No more fucking jokes.”

You nodded. He let out a sigh before he propped down on the chair again. You sat again too as you compose yourself.

“What the fuck is your problem?”

You bit the insides from your cheek to prevent yourself from chuckling. That’s more like him, you thought.

“This badge isn’t mine, dumbass.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Is it from an agent? A traitor perhaps? Just say the word and I’ll finish them off-”

“No need for violence, it was from a harbinger.”

His eyes widened a bit. “Did you…killed a harbinger? Y/n, that’s not how you raise your rank. You’re a trai-”

“I didn’t kill someone, why are you insisting that?”

He shrugged, leaning on the chair as he hums. He must have been playing with you as a revenge from earlier. What a child.

“It’s from a harbinger that’s been bugging me. Not in a bad way,” you cleared out before he can even decide to say a violent statement again.

“Bugging you but not in a bad way? What the heck is that supposed to mean?”

You mentally facepalmed, of course he wouldn’t know. He probably never felt that way for someone too. Now, you’re rethinking your decisions on telling him. Time for a more direct approach.

“I think I like someone.”

Silence.

You were replied by silence for almost a minute before a chuckled erupted from him. You shook your head as you listen to his laugh.

“You like someone? And you stole their badge because you like them? What a creepy move, are you a stalker?”

You rolled your eyes before you stand up, holding the file on your arms. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’ll need to submit this file before dinner time, bye.”

As you held the doorknob, you can still hear his laughter from your back. Maybe, you’ll tell him some other time but, you promised yourself. You even practice on the mirror on what to say, it’s ridiculous. Your eyes landed on the badge. Every time you look at it, it reminds you of the glint in his eyes then you’ll see your reflection, making you ask yourself on how did you get yourself into this.

“Hey, Scara.”

You turned around, his laughed slowly stopped as he looked at you.

“Remember the camp last month?”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Why are you asking me about such a horrible day.”

“Childe accidentally took your badge then replace it since you were pretty mad that day. It won’t be a good result if you’ve known he touched some of your belongings.”

He blinked. “And you didn’t tell me? That rascal, good thing he know what will happen.”

“I actually found it so here you go.”

You hummed, taking a last look on the badge before you throw it to him. He easily caught it with one hand, staring at it for a second. You saw how his eyes widen a bit before glancing at you again.

“This badge…is mine and what you said about it earlier…”

Your throat felt dry the moment you meet each other eyes. You tried to smile, forcing yourself to formulate some words your mind came up with.

“You’re making me feel complicated things, it’s unfitting for a harbinger.”

[rivalsforlife]

Phoenix Wright: The Truth Reborn Again: A Distracted and Agonized Review

Picture this:

You are me. You love Ace Attorney. You have consumed every piece of Ace Attorney material you could get your little hands on, including content exclusively in Japanese that you don’t understand. New Year’s Eve two years ago, you watched the first Takarazuka Musical in horror, baffled at the characterizations and plotline. The other musicals seem just as bad, if not worse. You want, so desperately, to understand what is going on with them.

Fast forward to two and a half years later. You’re having a rather crappy time. You need something to distract you, say, rewatching an actually well-characterized and delightful Investigations stage play. While you search for it, you notice something odd. You notice.... this.

That’s right. As of two weeks ago, one of the original fansubbers of the first musical has gone on to remaster the first and subtitle the second. They plan to have the third done sometime this summer.

The long lost land of Ace Attorney Takarazuka Musicals will soon be available to the English-speaking world.

I dropped everything I was doing to watch the entire thing. As it was rather late in the night when I started, I planned to not liveblog, not wanting to use too much time taking screenshots and formulating opinions, since I’d already be watching late into the night. Turns out, I liveblogged half of it in a discord channel anyways. I screamed “NO!!! NO!!!!!!” into my hands. I covered my face with my arms. I writhed in pain. I laughed. I wept. I questioned how someone who allegedly played the games could write this. I questioned the universe for bringing this into the world. I questioned myself for still watching.

Mostly for my own sake, I want to write down my thoughts of the musical to look back on it later. You are welcome to read if you do not want to put yourself through this musical yourself. I’ll summarize my experience. It is a wild one. It ended up being nearly eight thousand words long; prepare yourselves accordingly.

Okay. Review Time. I want to establish before we begin that I don’t have anything against the actresses or the theater company. As a musical, I think it was just fine! As an ace attorney thing, it was a disaster. 

First: Some Context

If you haven’t watched the first Takarazuka Musical, I’ll summarize it right now, because if you go into this expecting it to be anything like canon you’ll be in for a nasty surprise. I left the links above, you can watch either the old or remastered one, it’ll probably be about the same. But if you understandably don’t want to watch two hours of a terrible musical I’ll just provide a summary.

Pretty much, erase the entire backstory and canon of ace attorney. Pretend you don’t know anything about this series. Phoenix Wright is a blond American lawyer (yes, ACTUALLY America this time, they use the English names and setting in this musical despite it being performed in Japan in Japanese. No, it is not a translation choice, you can literally hear them say it.) When Phoenix was a child, he was put on a class trial for stealing another student’s lunch money. When the whole class was against him, two students stood up for him! They are: Miles Edgeworth, and Leona Clyde.

... Wait Leona Clyde, you might say, who is THAT? What about Larry? While Larry does appear in the first and third musicals, if I’m recalling correctly, he has no link to the class trial whatsoever. Leona was substituted for Larry in this situation, except she didn’t steal the lunch money. 

Here’s a little graphic they made for her, how cute.

Anyways, after the class trial, Phoenix and Leona become friends. And Edgeworth too I guess. Leona’s parents are both lawyers who fight for the truth! Phoenix and Leona decide to become lawyers together and fight for the truth as well. They start dating at some point into college. Eventually, Leona moves away, which if I recall correctly has something to do with a murder case covered in the first musical that’s like a variation on Rise from the Ashes where Leona is in the Lana role. Phoenix offers to defend her after being separated for a while. She argues she’s changed as a person! Phoenix says he’ll believe in her no matter what. She saved him back in the class trial. Now it’s his turn to save her, even if she’s acting cold and remote and distant.

... If you’re thinking here, “So she’s a mash up of Edgeworth and Lana Skye, but a love interest,” then you’re correct. A lot of the dialogue in the first musical sounded like it came straight from Turnabout Goodbyes. We’ll touch on this more a little later.

Of course at the end Phoenix proves her innocence, and they sing about how much they love each other, and it’s a happily-ever-after type of ending. Phoenix’s entire backstory -- dating Dahila, meeting Mia -- gets erased or altered in some way. While he knows Maya and she’s his assistant, it’s never established how they met or that Mia even exists. (Sidenote: Maya is ruthlessly massacred in both musicals. Her characterization, I mean, though it probably would have been a mercy if she’d been killed so I wouldn’t have to see her like this.) Phoenix, having dated Leona throughout college, probably didn’t date Dahlia/Iris. He became a lawyer essentially for Leona, and maybe Edgeworth too I guess, in the same way that canon Phoenix became a lawyer essentially for Edgeworth, and maybe Larry too I guess. 

So already we’re pretty far off the canon AA script. The characters are nearly incomprehensible. But hey, at least they’re happy.

... For now.

THREE YEARS LATER

The musical starts off with Phoenix singing and dancing around on the beaches of California, something about leading you to your destiny. It’s a cheesy sort of musical song that doesn’t seem to have any relevance to the plot. Just a sort of introduction. This song will come up a couple times later and seems to be the musical’s Main Song. 

Okay, Phoenix, you do you.

He sings and dances a little bit, then returns to his office and falls asleep on the couch in a generally depressed manner before being woken up by his Official Ace Attorney Alarm Clock.

Maya enters, and Phoenix provides some of the background. Basically, three years ago, they lived in New York for some reason, which is where the events of the first musical happened, I guess? Then they moved to California, Phoenix’s hometown. Where in California, you ask? That’s not for you to know.

They introduce Maya’s character here. It’s terrible. Somehow someone looked at Maya Fey and went “this girl has no idea what’s going on ever, totally oblivious to the world around her, generally helpless” and they just go with that. 

She was described as “as ditzy as they come” in the first musical and they have not changed that since. So, Maya’s here, or at least some imitation thereof. She doesn’t have much of a role though, since the musical is focused on Phoenix and his Dramatic Love Story. That’s probably for the best. I can’t bear to see her like this. Rest well, sweet princess.

Now that the intro is out of the way...

Enter: Lucia Aleia

A Beautiful Young Woman comes in. Her name is Lucia Aleia. Her mother has been arrested for murder! She’s smiling though for some reason in this picture because she’s prettier when she smiles, I guess.

And who is her mother, you might ask? This is actually an interesting concept, I think. Lucia’s mother is Phoenix’s former teacher, Rose Aleia. She was the teacher in the fourth grade class trial. She was the one who gave Phoenix his Most Traumatic Incident.

... Also for some reason they put Baby Phoenix in a suit. I don’t know why. Presumably to match with Edgeworth, so he doesn’t look like some nerd who wore a suit to fourth grade? Or they think baby American boys wear suits as uniforms to (presumably) public school?

like okay. that’s sure a choice you made.

Anyways, Oh No, Phoenix’s Teacher Who Traumatized Him Is Being Accused of Murder! Will He Defend Her?

Lucia begs him to do it, saying that her mother is her only family left. Phoenix takes this and draws a parallel to I believe Leona, who I believe said the same thing about her sister, the Ema-equivalent in the RFTA-based case. So Phoenix decides to hear her out. Since, you know, everyone who has only one family member is the same, I suppose.

So he goes to meet his old teacher. Surprisingly, she is wracked with guilt over what she did to Phoenix over fifteen years ago. She hurt an innocent child! She’s a sinner! I mean, from canon, I can’t really say Phoenix’s teacher felt Filled With Guilt or was even a remotely decent person, but, sure. We don’t know much about her, that very well may be true.

Then Phoenix says some of the most bizarre things.

Transcript:

Phoenix: That school trial is what made me become a lawyer! When I was alone without a friend in the world, Leona and Edgeworth stood up for me! And you’re the reason I met them! I have no grudge against you! You’re no sinner. You’re my savior!

Look I. Can accept. Phoenix forgiving his school teacher and deciding to defend her because he wants to defend the innocent. Be the person he needed for himself when he was younger. Show mercy. Stuff like that I can accept from Phoenix Wright.

... But “You’re my savior!” for traumatizing him as a kid because it meant he could meet Leona (and Edgeworth)? A little bit too far imo. 

Anyways, Ms. Aleia agrees to have Phoenix defend her. He takes some time to reminisce about his childhood here in his Childhood Home Of California.

Opening Credits

We are twelve minutes into this musical, which is two hours and eleven minutes long.

Anyways, look at this picture of Edgeworth in his office. They don’t have his Steel Samurai statue and instead have a giant trophy sitting there. Miles Edgeworth, who Hates Trophies And Recognition. In case you weren’t sure just how painfully off they are on their characterizations.

How Do You Solve A Problem Like Dick Gumshoe?

Okay so you know in the Sound of Music they have this big musical number with the nuns talking about Maria and how she’s such a problem and all that stuff. Well, consider that, but Ace Attorney, and they’re talking about Gumshoe and how useless he is as a detective. They’re in a church and everything. He gets everything wrong! He’s so enthusiastic about his job but so bad at it! He got demoted and moved from New York to California, which is their explanation for why he’s here. A pretty dramatic move if you ask me.

Gumshoe’s no genius in canon but the way they present him here is honestly quite pathetic. 

Officer (singing): The only thing this guy investigates is how to waste time!

Also they call him “Detective Dick” for some reason. That’s certainly something when you only know words in English and just keep hearing people say “Dick”.

One more thing in the weird name department, the victim is named Marcus Payne. Relation to the Winston and Gaspen Paynes unknown.

Edgeworth’s Gay Little Stroll

Edgeworth: It has been a while, Wright.

IT’S EDGEWORTH TIME. I believe they switched actresses for Edgeworth this time, and she plays Edgeworth in both this and the (ominous voice) third musical. This Edgeworth has a habit of holding one hand in a sort of half-bow thing. Not completely wrong but just enough to seem a little odd. I’m probably spoiled from Takuma Wada, who every five seconds I point at and go “THAT’S A MILES EDGEWORTH THING!!!” whenever he does something. Anyways.

In the first musical, Edgeworth was the only character who was somewhat preserved. So naturally I was interested to see how the second musical handled him.

The answer... very much in love with Phoenix? It won’t be apparent now, but hold that thought.

Edgeworth: Shall we go for a stroll? Only if you wish to, of course.

Edgeworth takes Phoenix out on a lovely stroll to the nearby beach. It is sunset, painting the sky in orange hues, reflecting off the ocean waters. It’s beautiful. Serene. Intimate. Maya has not come with them to give them some privacy. In the background, couples stand next to each other, watching the sunset.

Phoenix: Times change. People change. Edgeworth, staring at him: ... Phoenix: What? Edgeworth: Nothing...

After THAT weirdly charged conversation, Edgeworth explains what he’s doing here. After his crushing defeat in his one trial against Phoenix in the first musical, he’s started doubting himself, wondering about his path. Before, he solely sought a guilty verdict. Now, he’s lost. Sort of similar to JFA but without choosing death and without the context of Turnabout Goodbyes and the good parts of RFTA that the musical left out. So, whatever, for an adaptation’s sake, it’s close enough.

Then Edgeworth, talking about how Phoenix lost his way, breaks the news to the audience: Leona Clyde is dead. She died sometime in between the first musical and this second one. Phoenix has lost his way because of that. How did she die, you ask? ... Who knows. I don’t think they say. Sad Woman Disease or whatever they use to kill off women for man pain. 

And then, Edgeworth says this.

Transcript:

Edgeworth: Though she was a suspect, you kept believing in her. You fought for her. You saved her. You were supposed to wait for her here in California. But to think that all that was waiting for you was her death... Such a cruel fate must have been hard for you to accept.

Phoenix: But I never stopped doing my job!

Edgeworth: You were just chasing Leona’s shadow! Why did you become a lawyer?

Replace the name and pronouns, and who’s saying it, and you have a conversation that could have come straight out of JFA about Edgeworth. Continuing the parallels of “huh they really did just make a female Edgeworth to be Phoenix’s love interest, didn’t they.”

After this, Edgeworth introduces the concept of Franziska. Then this exchange happens, which made me absolutely lose my shit.

Transcript:

Phoenix: 13? How is that even possible?!

Edgeworth: Wright. Never forget. This is America, (dramatic flourish) Land of the Free!

Phoenix: Did they pay you to say that?

We are only twenty-two minutes in to this god-forsaken musical.

The Other Man

Tumblr deleted my draft here so I hope I remember all my jokes.

Anyways, Edgeworth, probably utterly humiliated by what he just said, flees from the scene. This paves the way for Lucia to return. If you forgot who she was, she’s Phoenix’s fourth-grade teacher’s daughter and a Beautiful Young Woman. This is an Ace Attorney Takarazuka Musical. You know where it’s going.

She has a guest with her.

Meet Roland Smith. He’s a nice, polite, cheerful dude. He’s Lucia’s fiance. I know fiance should have an accent on the e but I am too lazy to grab that right now. He’s here because he actually was a witness! He saw Ms. Aleia at the scene of the crime, running to call the doctor, meaning she probably stumbled across the victim and tried to help him! He talks about how he looks up to Phoenix, and how Lucia told him about him, and that he thinks Phoenix is a great person and noble lawyer. What a wonderful witness he is, and such a nice guy, too!

So here’s where my head was at for what was going to happen: 

- This dude is Evil. Capital-E Evil. The Most Evil Guy On The Planet.  - He’s going to be revealed to be Evil and then Lucia will run into Phoenix’s arms. Though he’s still mourning Leona, he will learn to move on and live his happy life with Lucia.

Was I right? Was I wrong? You’ll have to find out... if we ever make it there.

Anyways, Roland also mentions that Lucia wants to be a lawyer. She really admires Phoenix and Leona and wants to be Just Like Them, and Fight For The Truth, and hopefully not die of Sad Woman Disease. Also, both Lucia and Roland call Phoenix “Sensei”, which is cute, and I’m sure there’s no way they could ruin that. It seems like there’s a nice possible mentorship thing going on, I might say, if I didn’t know this was an Ace Attorney Takarazuka Musical.

Roland leaves his fiancee in the general realm of the protagonist, a very bad move on his part. Lucia and Phoenix chat for a bit, mainly about her dreams of becoming a lawyer, and then she leaves. As she does, Phoenix notices that Roland dropped something! It’s a pendant! He gives it to Lucia to return to Roland later. I’m sure this won’t be at all important in this murder mystery and is completely irrelevant.

Phoenix remains on the beach for a while and he thinks about Lucia, and Leona, and notices that they’re similar. I mean, they both have five-letter names that start with L and end with A. Then he starts grieving Leona.

Flashback Phoenix: Don’t die. Please don’t die!

Flashback Leona, dying: I... am so happy... that I met you.

Sad Woman Disease takes the lives of countless underdeveloped female love interests a year. If you or a loved one are at risk of Sad Woman Disease, take measures now. Bad writing is the greatest risk factor.

Phoenix dwells on how much things have Changed. Edgeworth, once a proud prosecutor, has taken a break from his profession. Phoenix himself, once a happy defense lawyer, is lost and intends for this to be his last case. Leona, once a living love interest, is now a dead love interest. 

On that somber (?) note, the trial begins.

The Trial

Trial portions tend not to be as bad, because the musical focuses more on the plot than whatever the hell their interpersonal relationships are.

So, here’s Franziska. As far as this musical goes, I think she was preserved pretty well, all things considered.

I meant to only take one screenshot but got distracted. Lots of her poses are true to the games and it’s beautiful.

So, Franziska wasn’t butchered, that’s nice. There’s a jury which is weird, but they don’t do anything, so it can pass. We can safely move on to a summary of the trial. On account of being less horrible, I won’t go into as much detail, so we can move on since this is getting wayyy longer than it should be.

- The victim, Marcus Payne, was killed in a church. What he was doing there is unknown. Ms. Aleia is accused because she fed him poison called Heart Stopper. - Franziska named “Heart Stopper”, because as you know, prosecutors can name poisons. She seems to be a very literal person. - Ms. Aleia’s claim is that she saw Marcus on the ground begging for help and asked her to give him the medication lying nearby. She did, and he died. She was not aware that it was poison. - Lotta is here, I think I forgot to mention she showed up in the investigation? She’s part-timing as a nun, because that’s a thing you can do. She has pictures! One of “Ms. Aleia” kicking the victim, and one of her escaping. It's pretty hilarious.

Yeah that’s how I look when I’m murdering someone too.

Anywayyyys 

- Phoenix argues that the thing on the floor is a nun’s hood, and therefore, it couldn’t have been Ms. Aleia because she isn’t a nun, and someone ELSE disguised themselves as a nun to kill this poor poor stock photo man. Franziska asks him the favourite question of prosecutors ever, “can you PROOOOOVE IT????” Luckily, Phoenix has a witness! - Roland Smith takes the stand and immediately sounds like the guiltiest man alive.

Transcript:

Roland: I want to build a brighter future for California. Creating comfortable communities brings smiles to people’s faces. I want to make California the sunniest state there is! That’s my mission.

Anyways, three guesses who the murderer is. You’ll only need one.

Oh No Roland’s The Murderer

Roland makes one critical mistake: he tells the court that Ms. Aleia called from her cellphone, when she actually called the doctor from a nearby payphone. After all, cellphones don’t exist here in the 21st century, so it must be a lie. Franziska points out this mistake and tries to use it to discredit his testimony; Phoenix turns that around to say “since he lied he’s THE KILLER” and huh. He’s right. Roland makes an ominous comment about how this isn’t over yet before being led away. Lucia, too, runs off in tears.

Honestly I don’t want to fully rewatch this because this has already taken up so much of my time, and a lot of my memory has been wiped because I had to look at this screenshot.

Maya: This prosecutor’s more toxic than 4chan.

The whole ensemble has a little song that doesn’t seem very relevant to the plot at all, and then that’s the end of act 1! Franziska finally gets to sing, she has a lovely voice, and I will forever be mad that she doesn’t get a villain solo like Edgeworth did in the first one. The misogyny is unreal.

ACT 2

oh god we’re halfway there maybe. 

Once again, Phoenix, lying on the couch depression napping, is awoken to the sounds of his Official Ace Attorney Alarm Clock. I guess he lives in his office now. Maya isn’t there, for some reason, which I’m sure isn’t important to the plot at all in this murder mystery game after the killer last time swore it wasn’t over.

I feel like I forgot to mention this part of the musical is loosely based on Farewell, My Turnabout? Did I forget to mention that?

Ms. Aleia comes in to thank Phoenix for defending her. Lucia bursts in, declares she’s given up being a lawyer, she’s furious at Phoenix for putting Roland in jail and at her mother for not going to jail instead of Roland or something, and runs off in womanly tears. 

Well, whatever, Phoenix was giving up being a lawyer anyway. Just as he decides that, he gets a nice little phone call from someone holding Maya hostage. Oh no! It’s not actually Shelly de Killer, it’s a group of some ominous looking men, asking for Phoenix to defend Roland Smith. But he’s the killer!

Roland claims he did everyone a favor by getting rid of Marcus Payne. He forces Phoenix to defend him if he doesn’t want Maya to die. Phoenix agrees, but he has to tell Edgeworth!

... Who is having a little dramatic moment.

Edgeworth, singing while gesturing broadly: I’ll become one with the wind and water and flow toward the boundless horizon.

Edgeworth cut that out MAYA IS IN DANGER BE DRAMATIC ON YOUR OWN TIME

Well, Edgeworth gives him advice kind of similar to that second investigation day of Farewell, My Turnabout. “You need to decide for yourself what your path will be, and you must do what only you can do”, in essence.

Phoenix: huh. no idea what that means.

So naturally it leads into another dramatic music number which is honestly my favourite one. Finally, I may be... enjoying myself? Guys, there’s a freaking von Karma sibling duet.

Transcript since it’s not clear who’s saying what:

Edgeworth: The road that leads Franziska: The road that leads Edgeworth: Into the distance Franziska: The distance... Both: Is too treacherous for those who cling to memories! Edgeworth: Where lies the key to tomorrow? Franziska: I shall seize it with this very hand! Both: The eternal refrain

Phoenix is not singing, he is just having a good time here, and I respect that for him. The lyrics don’t make any sense as well, but von Karma Sibling Duet makes up for it.

Once they’re done their epic duet and the best part of the musical is over, Phoenix has another Crying About My Love Interest’s Death Moment set to some specific music.

This is extremely relevant for later. I promise.

It’s All Downhill From Here

Lucia has a Sad Singing Moment about how her fiance turned out to be a murderer and is in prison awaiting trial, which, fair. This transitions into Phoenix meeting her on the beach... the same beach that’s been there the whole time I think. Phoenix is in a new outfit to be casual or something.

He monologues a bit about the skies in New York and California, mentions he’ll be defending Roland in court, mentions nothing about Maya being kidnapped and overall does not seem too bothered that she’s been kidnapped.

Then this starts happening.

Phoenix: Such a beautiful name! Your name. “Lucia.”

“It’s five letters long, starts with an L, ends with an A, has two vowels and a consonant in between...”

Phoenix manages to connect this to his current purpose. He talks about how being a lawyer isn’t always about saving people. Sometimes it’s about finding the truth, no matter how painful it is. Even if you have to lose your empty shell of a mockery of a best friend. He just really does not seem to care. Where Farewell, My Turnabout Phoenix was in anguish over what to do, desperate to save his best friend, Takarazuka Musical Phoenix seems to have completely forgotten what happened.

He then starts talking about True Love. Sometimes true love means staying together and supporting each other, even through bad times, he says. This seems like a good sentiment, right? We’ll See About That.

He encourages Lucia to go to the trial tomorrow. She has regrets, not wanting to see her fiance go on trial. Then it just keeps getting worse.

It’s Time... for a love song. It’s a reprise of that song in the beginning that he was singing about while having a dream about Leona or something.

Yes, that is karaoke with a cherry blossom petal effect, why do you ask? This is where I, drowning in denial and gasping for breath, surrender to accepting this is not going to be a sweet mentorship-type relationship.

Lucia, having now completely given up on her fiance, agrees to go to the trial tomorrow. 

The two walk off. And just as they do...

I did not expect what was coming next. 

Edgeworth’s Gay Little Monologue

I may be hyping this up too much so I want to confirm right now that the musicals did not make Edgeworth canonically gay. They actually do the opposite and are the only piece of media where he actually is attracted to a woman (in the third musical, I think.) When I first typed “media” I started somehow typing “murder” which was how I felt when I saw that.

Anyways. Edgeworth walks onto the beach right after Phoenix walks away with Lucia. He stares where they departed and starts monologuing. I believe it has to be seen to be believed.

Transcript:

Edgeworth: Wright. Whenever you decided to do something, you always saw it through to the end. We met again at that trial, in a battle of wills. And before I knew it, even I found myself drawn to you.

Me, the first time watching this: Wowww, that’s kinda... oh well it’s probably just a one time thing. ace attorney does this all the time and it means nothing.

Transcript:

Edgeworth: (soft laughter) ... You taught me how to believe. You showed me the truth reborn. Maybe I came back... because of you.

This was where I started absolutely losing it. I had to pause here for like five minutes to take deep breaths because NO WAY. NO WAY ARE THEY DOING THIS.

Then he starts SINGING. Softly. Tenderly.

Transcript:

Edgeworth: As long as there are people in this world, there’s only one path I will follow. As long as there is love in this world, there’s only one path I will believe in!

It is VERY IMPORTANT that you know. The moment Miles started singing the “As long as there is love in this world” line, the notes of Objection 2001 started playing in the background. You know, the one Phoenix is associated with.

Needless to say... I was in a bad state. Here’s a screenshot of me having a breakdown in discord.

I can’t believe the musicals notorious for being shamefully heterosexual gave me the closest thing to semi-canon one-sided narumitsu we have.

... holy shit I am nearly five thousand words in and we still have a ways to go. Like nearly an hour. We are only one hour and sixteen minutes in to this experience and tumblr is starting to lag. I’ll be a bit more stingy on screencaps from here on.

Basic summary of the relationships: Phoenix is still hung up on his dead girlfriend. Lucia, once attached to her fiance Roland, is starting to fall for Phoenix. Phoenix may love her back but we don’t know yet. Edgeworth is clearly pining for Phoenix but seems to be resigned to the fact it will be one-sided since musical Phoenix is very heterosexual, and instead sings about how much Phoenix changed him mournfully on the beach.

Anyways, the scene cuts to a upbeat piece of people screaming “PHOENIX WRIIIIGHT”, and the trial begins.

The Trial, Part 2

Franziska von Karma has been shot by an unknown gunman, to the surprise of no one who has played Farewell, My Turnabout. Edgeworth takes her place. Edgeworth tells Phoenix, “By the time this trial is over, you will see the answer these past three years have revealed to me”, which is probably that he’s madly in love with him if that song was anything to go by.

Phoenix thinks about what Edgeworth said to him: “You must do what only you can do.” Phoenix thinks that means Lie and say that Roland is completely innocent and he’ll willingly defend him. Edgeworth is... disappointed.

Edgeworth: I shall rain judgment upon you with my own hands!

So. That’s how the trial begins.

A random witness comes in. She’s Marcus Payne’s secretary, who comes in to talk about how he had a heart condition and provides a photo of them hanging out together. You, like me, may think that she is going to be the “Adrian Andrews” of the game and that Phoenix will try and pin the blame on her to buy time. He doesn’t. She literally doesn’t do anything.

Anyways, Marcus Payne has to take a heart medication called “Heartful” every day. “Heartful” was also named by Franziska von Karma, because prosecutors can rename FDA-approved drugs now.

Through this cross-examination, Phoenix proves that actually the witness couldn’t have been poisoned -- he died too quickly for the poison to take effect. He died of natural causes!

...

Huh. But earlier, Roland admitted to killing him? So what’s up with that?

Phoenix wants to object, but he can’t. Maya’s in danger, after all!

So we cut to Maya. She’s rolling on the ground screaming for Nick to save her and being completely useless. My enjoyment of the musical, temporarily raised by Accidentally Gay Miles Edgeworth, drops drastically.

We take a look at who kidnapped Maya.

Rude Beth, Played by Koumi Maito

I nearly screamed “HIS NAME IS RUDE BITCH???” out loud at 11:00 PM.

They do give an interesting bit of information: Roland requested that Maya not be harmed, and that Franziska not be killed. Certainly interesting for someone in the Engarde role. How could that be?

But first they take some time to establish their horribly out of character Maya.

“Maya”: God, I beg you! Please save me! I promise I’ll go to church every Sunday!

I have no idea who this woman is.

Mystery Woman Who Looks Vaguely Like Maya is saved! By Franziska von Karma, Gumshoe, and Lotta, who break in and take down the evil people and run off with Maya, or whoever she is. 

So she’s safe! Good thing her kidnapping actually didn’t matter at all to anything, or else they’d have to notify Phoenix right away, or something.

Lucia’s Big Moment

Back at the trial, since Phoenix proved Marcus Payne died of natural causes, Roland is about to be let free. But then Lucia objects! She talks about how Phoenix taught her want it meant to save someone and love someone. Or something like that. Anyways, she wants to throw Roland under the bus. 

Edgeworth tells Phoenix “Don’t worry about Maya, put your faith in Detective Dick, you know, the guy people sang a song about how useless he was”, and Phoenix just accepts it. The trial proceeds.

Lucia explains that she and Roland had dinner with Marcus and her mother. He had a heart attack there and took his medicine for it, so Roland knew about his heart condition. It seems that somehow Roland instigated a heart attack and then took away his medicine - I was picturing him jumping out from behind a statue in the church and shouting “BOO!”, which would be wild enough to be an ace attorney murder.

Either way, Phoenix points out that he noticed a contradiction! No one else noticed because the photos were distant and grainy, but they zoom in for your convenience. Marcus Payne, who normally wears a pendant... isn’t in his corpse photo! Who took the pendant? If only someone conspicuously dropped it earlier in this musical! If only someone has it!

Here’s (an exaggerated representation of) what happens:

Phoenix deduces: The medicine was in the pendant, and the culprit took it from him, depriving him of his life-saving medication and causing him to die of his heart attack!

Lucia stands there and says nothing.

Phoenix continues: Therefore, the culprit must still have the pendant!

Lucia stands there and says nothing.

Roland says: Haha, I don’t have the pendant! You can search me if you want, I don’t have it!

Lucia stands there and says nothing.

Phoenix, FINALLY, says: Lucia, you have the pendant.

Lucia: oh you mean THAT pendant, the large pendant Roland dropped that belongs to Roland, is the pendant we’re talking about that’s the key piece of the murder?

I mean obviously she couldn’t present it herself. That would mean she has agency, and we can’t have that.

Roland’s Motive

**CW for this section for discussion of suicide and other unpleasant stuff like that.**

Roland breaks down and confesses. He killed Marcus Payne. Then he talks about why.

Here’s what I got wrong: Roland is not Capital E Evil.

When Roland was a kid, he lived with his father, his only family. They were poor, and his father worked as a fisherman. When he got injured, he had to borrow money from a loan shark, Marcus Payne. When he couldn’t pay up, Marcus Payne started harassing Roland’s father.

At one point, Payne attacks Roland’s father, right in front of a young Roland himself. Worn down and ashamed, Roland’s father leaves him at an orphanage and then kills himself.

Roland, upset over the death of his father, vows to get revenge. But then he meets Lucia, who is so wonderful and makes him feel like his life is at peace.

Early on in the trial they thought Ms. Aleia’s motive for killing him regarded a loan to keep a school open. So Marcus Payne met with Ms. Aleia, while Lucia and Roland were there. Roland, not wanting the family of his fiancee to fall to the same man who ruined his father’s life, deprived Marcus of his life-saving medication in the middle of a heart attack, kicked him around a little, and left.

He hadn’t planned for Ms. Aleia to be caught up in the murder, so he tried to lie in order to have her cleared of suspicion, only to end up found out through that. He didn’t want to be arrested for defending his beloved and her family from such a horrible man; he saw Marcus Payne’s death as a benefit to society. And honestly, he was probably right. When Edgeworth does the “why didn’t you go to the police”, Roland explains about how nobody ever helped him or his family, the poor don’t have the luxury of being able to go to school to get big jobs like lawyers and change the world that way, and murdering Marcus was the only way he could protect his new family.

Here, I was thinking: wow, moral complexity? Is this actually turning out to be good?

Phoenix: But you killed someone. That’s EXACTLY what Marcus Payne did to your father.

No, Phoenix. No it’s not.

The Moral Of The Story

Phoenix tells Roland that he shouldn’t have done murder. And WORSE, HE’S the one who CRUSHED Lucia’s DREAMS!

... What?

Remember at the beginning of this act, Lucia, in tears, runs away screaming about how she’s not going to be a lawyer anymore because Phoenix put her fiance in jail? ... That’s Roland’s fault now, I guess.

Phoenix, clearly dealing with his own nonsense poorly, tells Roland that he of all people should not have made Lucia suffer. There is only one person who can truly make her smile, who can truly make her happy, and that is Roland. Phoenix looks like he’s about to cry as he says this, while Lucia looks kinda confused, because, uh... Phoenix is completely speaking for her. This is the beginning of the end.

Well, either way, Phoenix encourages him to try again, and he’s declared guilty, but it’s implied that given the circumstances he’ll be rehabilitated and let out someday. Good for him! At the end, Roland reveals he held on to the pendant instead of throwing it away because it was his father’s, and it was all he had left of him. Throughout this, Edgeworth is holding the pendant, clearly poorly dealing with his own trauma. I expect there to be some sort of sympathetic moment where he returns it to Roland, but he doesn’t. He just kinda holds it and dangles it in front of Roland while he’s led away. Huh.

Then this happens:

Phoenix: Everything’s over... Wait... Maya?!

HE COMPLETELY FORGOT ABOUT MAYA.

She returns safely, there’s a little hug, Gumshoe directly calls her a damsel in distress, I long for death. We are so close to the end. So close. Gumshoe talks about how Edgeworth is so cool and Edgeworth is proud about it instead of his usual “I hate flattery” thing.

Phoenix decides he’s found his purpose again as a lawyer and walks off. There’s the airport scene here, except in a courtroom, with the von Karma siblings. It’s about the same as canon so I won’t go into that.

Following that, we go to a scene with Phoenix and Lucia.

You Think You Know What’s Coming?

They’re on a beach. There’s soft romantic music. Couples stand with their arms around each other in the background. Quietly, close to midnight, I whisper to myself, “Oh, god, please, no.”

Phoenix tells Lucia she reminds him of Leona. They have the same eyes. That’s why he wanted to save her. But she ended up saving him instead; she taught him how to believe again.

... Sounds oddly like a certain someone’s other beach monologue, but I digress.

Lucia, who has been following the musical so far and seen the multiple obvious parallels, finally asks the question in the weirdest way possible.

Lucia: Can I... become Leona?

Phoenix takes this as “Can I become a great female lawyer and someday die of Sad Woman Disease?” No, no, Lucia clarifies: She wants to become his Leona. In other words, his giiiirlfriend.

Her fiance was arrested for murder one day ago. She’s talking about wanting to be his dead girlfriend.

Lucia, hon, this is not the way to do it.

She explains that Phoenix in his big dramatic love song singing taught her what love really was. She loves him! She’s about to say it when --

Phoenix: Don’t say it.

Note the hollow, distant gaze. He says it in the flattest tone of voice.

It’s around here that I realize this musical has been stringing me along a flat love story and is about to turn this entire thing on its head.

Phoenix: Have you already forgotten how to believe? He will definitely return. He will be the same man you once knew. The only one who can believe in him... The only one who can save him... is you.

I think Phoenix forcibly assigned Lucia as something like a manic pixie dream girl? I’m probably using the term wrong but you get the picture. Lucia, It Is Your Job To Save This Traumatized Man At The Expense Of Your Own Desires!

Lucia looks so fucking confused and I don’t blame her. I saw it, Lucia. I saw his hands on your bare shoulders holding you close and singing how he was going to take you to your bright shining future. You have a right to be confused. I’m confused and I absolutely hated this romance plotline!

Phoenix pushes it further and I finally understand what this musical has been planning all along: Phoenix Wright Is About To Snap.

Phoenix: I believed in Leona and waited for her return. People don’t change. I just know it. That’s why people... always return to their true selves sleeping deep within.

Phoenix: You already know... the meaning of true love.

Lucia: ...

SHE LOOKS SO CONFUSED AND SLIGHTLY DISGUSTED and I am transfixed. I am starting to see the beginnings of what this musical is doing. 

Phoenix encourages her to believe in Roland, the fiance she was prepared thirty seconds ago to abandon for Phoenix. He says that is the path to her future.

Phoenix, hands on Lucia’s (now covered) shoulders: Your future is shining bright!

This is the end of the musical. It is the start of Lucia’s Nightmare.

Phoenix Wright’s Spiral Into Despair

Lucia promises to become a lawyer and gets out of there. I can’t blame her. Something’s Up with Phoenix. His fixation on people not changing. Not even their relationships are allowed to change upon the revelation of “you murdered someone”. 

What does it mean? What does it all mean?

Phoenix starts talking to the sky. To Leona.

Phoenix: Leona. Now I finally understand... why I came back home. The power to believe. The truth reborn...!

So he’s talking to Leona, explaining that he found his purpose again. That’s great. That’s nice. That’s --

Phoenix: I’ll be with you now and forever!

UM????

Phoenix: Because Leona... you’ll always be alive... inside my heart!

It’s a nice sentiment, but something is... off. Phoenix starts to sing. It’s the song he sang at the beginning, and sang to Lucia, and now singing it to the memory of Leona.

Phoenix, singing: I’ll take you to that radiant future ...

The lights fade to resounding applause. But It’s Not Over Yet.

Dance Break!

The Takarazuka Musicals have these weird ending dances to character’s songs at the end, where they dress up in these bizarre costumes. It’s... something. I encourage you to watch them for yourselves because they’re uh. Interesting. Here’s a few screenshots:

It’s entertaining, but it distracts from the real issue at hand.

The Spiral Into Despair Continues

At the end of the last dance scene, Phoenix stands alone in a red room. Music starts playing. Remember this scene I said was important a long time ago?

The music that plays to this scene, general Upset Despairing Music, is what’s playing during this. This is context I think you need to fully appreciate this.

Phoenix, alone, starts to sing to the theme of this music, but slower and a little more dramatic.

Phoenix: I want to bring you back! I believe in you.

And then he SCREAMS.

(To be fair, this is musical screaming, it’s more like singing without words. It’s not like a guttural scream, though that would have been infinitely funnier and I never would have recovered from it.)

This is where I doubled over, wheezing, and is still making me laugh so hard to this day, a single day later. Because suddenly? Suddenly I understand everything. I understand what this musical, which was absolutely not trying to tell me this, was trying to tell me.

Phoenix associates his belief in other people with being a lawyer, and to him, being a lawyer is intrinsically tied with Leona. It’s why he’s so determined to save his childhood teacher who, despite traumatizing him as a child, introduced him to the person he was so dependent on. When Leona died, he lost his purpose. He lost his ability to believe. Seeing Lucia, who he projects Leona onto, be in a breaking relationship with Roland reminds him of what he used to have with Leona. That’s why he can’t bear to see them apart. That’s why he’s so adamant that, so long as she believes in him, they can get through any trial. He wants to believe that pure belief and love can keep a couple together through even murder, even death. 

He wants to believe that, if he believes in Leona, he can even bring her back from the dead. He can’t move on from her. That’s why he’ll be with her now and forever. That’s why she’ll always live inside his heart. Because so long as he believes in her, so long as he never moves on, it’ll be like she was still alive, in his eyes.

Takarazuka Musical Phoenix Wright is a deeply broken man. He’s trapped in his own despair and can’t see any way out of it. He has little to no support system: one distant friend pining from afar, another that is an empty shell of what she could have been. He associates Leona with the prime of his life. Without her, he can’t see himself recovering. 

This is the end of the musical, but it is only the beginning of the end for Phoenix Wright. Will he ever be able to move on from Leona? Will his friends notice his sudden unhealthy attitude towards relationships and try to intervene? Will he drive them away, convinced all he needs in this world is Leona, Leona who has taken up so much of his backstory, so many of his canon self’s important relationships, Leona who has taken that chunk of life with him and left him a broken man?

This musical was made in 2009. The third musical in this series does not involve Phoenix at all and chronologically takes place before this musical. I will never have answers. I spent my entire day puzzling over this musical and writing up this piece. I am taking everything wrong away from this musical and wildly misinterpreting everything. This has been such an experience for me in a way not even the first musical was. The first musical was just bad. This one... it was terrible, but in the way that has so much potential, if you divorce it completely from what it is and ask yourself, “but what if?” What if Miles Edgeworth is secretly deeply in love with Phoenix? What if Maya Fey was murdered and replaced with an imposter, an empty shell? What if Lucia and Roland’s relationship is doomed towards disaster? What if Phoenix Wright’s unhealthy fixation on Leona prevents him from living a full, happy life?

I just wrote nearly eight thousand words about a musical I fully expected to despise. In some ways I did. In some ways this will live in my heart forever. Thank you for bearing with me through this terrible, terrible journey. I did not mean for it to go this far.

TL;DR: oh my god this musical sucks in the best way possible

[a-lil-perspective]

70 Encouragements/Tips For The Writer:

A/N: Rules don’t exist. These are real and personal and stem from a deteriorating, exhausted Writer who is here to tell you (and herself) that you are amazing and keep going. I hope you find some encouragement within.

Your mental health comes first and foremost.

Indulge and embrace your creative writing pieces when they come (and when they don’t). Especially when they don’t.

Suffering from Writer’s Block or fluctuating hyperfixation? Me too. So is your favorite author. Welcome to the Writer’s Block Party (all my uwus if you see the pun).

Did you spend five hours on this one segment, forget the last time you ate, develop chapped lips, dry eyes, and a stiff back (time to get up and move), bang your head on the wall, laugh, cry, fidget, take your ADHD meds, deviate to watch YouTube, have an epiphany, curse in frustration and wonder why the hell you do this to yourself? Congratulations, you’re a Writer.

Embrace all the not-so-glamorous sides of writing, and accept the fact they’re going to happen time over again.

When you say “just one more line” and it’s 2:00 AM, I’ll be here to remind you to “go to sleep” (because I’m also depriving myself lol).

Actually, sleeping helps your mind feel refreshed, and it’s good for your health. If you’re struggling with a particular segment, one of the best things you can do is just put a cap on it for the time being, put in a placeholder, and get some shut eye. I know you don’t want to. But you will feel so much better and have more clarity and energy to continue when you wake. Trust me.

More often than not, those words you “just didn’t write down fast enough and now forgot” end up revealing themselves to you later in a much more profound way. Give the words time to get ready. They’re just spiffing up before coming to visit. :)

Be proud of yourself and your prose. Writing is an amazing part of who you are.

That trope has been written 1000 times before? Make it 1001.

You’ve already written this scenario? Write it again.

You’ve just written a single sentence. Now sit back for moment and think: you just wrote something brand new, never before seen. Nobody out there will ever write that sentence or formulate those thoughts the exact same way. You are a unique, mind-blowing, awe-inspiring human being.

Bask in the excitement that comes with a completed piece. Reflect on what you learned throughout and celebrate the little victories.

Don’t be afraid to ask for feedback, but also understand that you might not always get it, and that is OK.

Please re-read your work. Be gentle with yourself. You had to write that very first piece to get to where you are now. Love the process.

Your personal writing success is not based off of kudos or likes or reblogs.

There is no right or wrong way to write.

There is no such thing as “good” writing.

Improvement is becoming of everyone so get comfy, strap in. The journey of a Writer is a lifelong one. Here’s to many more works ahead.

Don’t mourn the words you did or didn’t write. Celebrate the ones you will.

One day, you’ll read a piece that will blow you away—and it will be yours.

There is nothing “shameful” about reblogging your own writing works.

I promise you’ll find your “wow” piece—either in something you’ve already written, or something yet to come.

Baby. Please don’t write out of spite. You’re better than that.

You are just as valid/deserving as the next Writer. And you do belong.

If you feel sad/unworthy when sharing your works or interacting with others’, get to the root of why. Writing should be fun, rewarding, and relaxing. Not shameful, embarrassing, or a chore.

Writing (fanfiction, specifically) is labeled as “transformative works”. Self-explanatory, right? However, if you notice the transformative part begin to have a personal effect on you—a negative one—it’s time to take a step back.

Right now, I can name a single quality you possess: diligence. How do I know? Because you’re a Writer, and the two go hand-in-hand.

Got that single scene in your head but you haven’t completed or even began all the chapters preceding? Bruh. Jot that down right now. You don’t need 20k words beforehand.

Embrace your writing mood swings. The stray, sweet and condensed blurbie. The ideal, bridging drabble. The solid, substantial oneshot. The hefty, elaborate 10k word chapter. Appreciate everything in-between, and that you are capable of all of it.

Nobody remembers that extra word or typo or stray speech mark back all the way back in chapter 3. Tell the little monster in your head to go to hell.

You’re not a weirdo for making facial expressions and mulling through your dialogue aloud. You. Are. A. Writer.

It’s OK if the Readers can’t always see exactly what you envisioned in your head, or the full extent of the picture you painted. We all see colors differently.

Don’t be afraid to experiment with your writing.

In fact, challenge yourself to dabble into a new plot/trope/concept every day, even if only for a few minutes. You may discover you love writing it.

There’s no rush to finish/begin any written work. If you take your time, you will make your mark. You’re not falling behind or running late. Slow down and wait for it. :)

Three cheers for hiatus.

Listen to your body and mind, know your limits and when it’s time to take a break.

Actually take a break. :)

If you feel like you’re falling stagnant in creativity, looking to/revisiting other forms of creative media can help encourage the flow.

Ask for encouragement, and be at peace with asking.

Take shelter in fellow writers. Uplift each other always.

You are/will be someone’s favorite author. :)

You don’t have anything to prove. You have something to share.

Someone is thinking about your work right now.

Someone started a series because they drew inspiration from you.

Personal writing style can reflect a lot on the state of one’s mental health. Try to always be attentive to that of your own.

Self-validation must be cultivated early on or nothing will ever work.

Freestyle every once in a while. Write a snippet, timed, and go—without editing. Write the first thing that comes to mind and go from there. Do it all the way through the set time. When it stops, you’ll find yourself unable to. 3,800 words here we come. :)

Not everything needs an outline. :)

It is completely normal to write your story out of order.

Create guidelines for yourself. If they aren’t working, toss ‘em.

Word vomiting can help you feel better (it’s just how it sounds). By clearing all those jumbled thoughts and scattered concepts, you achieve a clearer objective. Try it sometime.

A rough draft is supposed to be rough.

Sometimes the words come to you quicker than others. Be patient. That is merely the construct of a Writer’s mind. You’re a beautiful enigma.

A sentence written is a story progressing.

Writing is an endurance sport. You must pace yourself and exercise it daily.

You are still a Writer even when the words aren’t on the actual page.

You’re not obligated to a writing/posting schedule.

As you progress in your journey and gain more awareness, don’t sacrifice your style. Those beginning works are what define you. Hold onto them and don’t ever let them go.

You’re the only one cringing—

Remember that sometimes words are elusive and you don’t always have control over them, and that is OK. Sometimes they write themselves. Sometimes your characters come to life and break out into dance across your page. Dance with them. You can wrangle them back when the music stops. :)

There is nothing condemning or embarrassing about asking for a beta. Allow someone to help carry the load.

Allow people to cheer you on—even if they don’t read your work.

It’s OK if your writing style isn’t someone else’s preference.

Be your biggest cheerleader. Sometimes you are all you have.

You don’t need anyone’s approval except your own.

You love that trope/concept/story you just wrote? That’s all that matters. The end.

You will never write good. You will write you. And that is good.

Above all else: remember to write for you.🤍

[pellaaearien]

FFXIV Write #2

Prompt: bolt || Master Post || On AO3

700 words, canon-typical violence

Eyn’ara was exhausted. Her arms screamed in protest as her axe rose and fell, rose and fell. She was drenched in sweat, her exposed skin seared from where she’d been just slightly too slow to dodge Lahabrea’s fire. She’d been fighting for hours now, first against the garrison of the Praetorium, then against Gaius and the Ultima Weapon, and now Lahabrea. She was pushing her body to its absolute limit, and she wondered how much longer she’d be able to stand.

Just a bit longer, she told herself. She wanted to say that her heart burned with rage against Lahabrea for the destruction he’d wreaked but the emotion turned to ash in her breast, leaving her with nothing but resignation. She had to see this through. There wasn’t another choice.

She was so tired.

Lahabrea raised his arms, summoning four dark orbs. Eyn’ara knew she had to destroy them quickly. She charged one, laying into it desperately. It dissipated, and she ran to the next one, feeling like she was moving through syrup. 

Faster… faster! But she had nothing left to give.

“You have meddled enough!” Lahabrea cried. “Farewell, servant of Light!” There were still two orbs remaining.

Out of options, Eyn’ara reached deep within, dredging up enough aether to summon her armiger. She winced as she felt her metaphysical fingers scraping the bottom of her reserves.

With a spat curse, she hurled the phantom axe. It shattered the orb, but too late.

Fetters of darkness snaked around her, pinning her arms to her sides. Eyn’ara’s axe dropped from nerveless fingers. Surrendering to the grasping tendrils was an insidious relief; to her shame, she didn’t even attempt to struggle.

Knowing she was helpless in his grasp, Lahabrea took his time formulating the spell that would end her. The circle of darkness grew until it filled her entire vision, but Eyn’ara refused to look away. She would go open eyed into the beyond.

Even such an acknowledgement felt like a betrayal. So many people were depending on her. Failure was not an option. Neutralizing the Ultima Weapon meant little if she left Lahabrea to run rampant in Thancred’s body. And yet…

There was a certain peace in it. In knowing she’d done all she could. She’d fought to the end, and now her luck had run out.

She wondered how the Scions would take the news.

The fetters abruptly shattered, shocking Eyn’ara out of her morbid musings. She collapsed to the ground, raising her arms in front of her face instinctively despite knowing it was useless.

Then the spell connected, and she knew nothing at all.

Hmph. Yours was always a vain struggle.

Eyn’ara drifted, the words meaningless. Was this truly the end? Her heartbeat echoed, as though to remind her of the sound before it stopped forever.

Did I… make a difference, in the end? The concept was less formed of words, rather an unconscious yearning. Did I… mean anything?

A beam of light shot through the peaceful darkness, turning everything to white and pain.

Surrender not, my child. Look thee to the Light.

Eyn’ara’s mouth opened in a silent scream as awareness of her body razed through her nerves.

Receive of the power to banish the Darkness!

Eyn’ara was pulled forcibly to her feet, every part of her still shrieking in agony.

Put me back! The thought was quashed as soon as it appeared as she took in the raging, fiery glow around her, so strong as to veil her vision.

What… is happening to me?

“That You should still have the strength to interfere…” Lahabrea appeared before her again and Eyn’ara allowed herself a recoil. He was, after all, the man who had just killed her. Probably. “Damn You, Hydaelyn!”

Eyn’ara bent like an old woman, forcing her hands to close around the haft of her axe. Giving up was no longer an option. Too many people were depending on her.

Eyn’ara wanted nothing more than to finally rest. The Warrior of Light picked herself up.

*

Later, when the day had been won, and the celebrations were over, Eyn’ara looked at herself in the mirror. She touched the levinbolt scar over her heart that hadn’t been there before, and wondered.

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