#loved the story can’t stand some of the creators now

[anartisticdreamer0]

how someone can write a character with so many complex flaws and destructive tendencies and point out those things are in fact flaws and are not desirable nor good traits only to then EMBODY THOSE TRAITS IN THEMSELF AND NOT SEE ANYTHING WRONG IN THEIR OWN BEHAVIOR WHEN PEOPLE ARE WRITING WHOLE ESSAYS ON THESE CHARACTERS AND WHATS WRONG WITH THEM IS ACTUALLY INSANE TO ME.

[luna-thecreator]

Settle Down

Paring⤷ Jey Uso x Fem!Reader Plot⤷ Casual sex with Jey Uso is one thing, but catching feelings? That's a whole different story.  WC⤷ 3.9k Tags⤷ Mentions of sex, jealousy, forbidden love, language, heartbreak (but he makes you feel better, promise), slight arguing, crying, emotional

You're too paranoid to even settle down, but the way he makes you cum, he has your feelings now.

"Y/N, do you hear me?" Bianca practically screams in your ear. You don’t hear her, though. The only thing piercing through the noise of the party is the sight of her—this random woman at the bar, flicking her hair like it’s some kind of weapon, batting her lashes in a way that would make anyone weak. She runs her hand down Jey's arm, and your chest tightens.

You didn’t know her. She wasn’t even here a month ago, some newbie that’s already making a play for the one guy you’ve been playing it cool with. The guy you’ve been sneaking around with, blowing off steam after WWE events in a way you never thought you’d get tangled in. But damn, she’s bold. Your gaze sticks to them like glue, your eyes narrowing as you watch her work her charm on him.

Bianca’s voice cuts through the haze of jealousy building inside you. "Y/N! Bitch you even listening?" she yells, shaking you by the shoulder.

The loud ringing fills your ears, like a thousand bells echoing in your head. You can’t even look away from them—Jey’s smile, the way it’s aimed directly at her, like he’s actually entertained. And that... makes you want to puke. Puerto Rico’s heat is nothing compared to the fire starting in your chest, but you try to calm yourself, try to breathe.

Finally, you snap back to reality, Bianca still hovering over you, her eyes wide with concern. You force out a breath, trying to shake off the feeling of suffocating. "I’m fine... I just need some air," you tell her, the words falling out of your mouth like they belong to someone else.

Bianca raises an eyebrow but doesn’t push. "Don’t do anything stupid," she warns. You know she means well, but she has no idea what’s happening in your head right now. You’re not about to stay here and watch that.

You slip away from the crowd, your heels clicking louder than usual as you make your way outside. The cool air of Puerto Rico greets you like a slap in the face, but it's a relief. For a second, you just stand there, letting the quiet of the night settle around you, but it doesn’t last long. That damn jealousy is like a storm rolling through your chest, and it’s only getting worse.

"Shit, I hate this," you mutter to yourself, pacing back and forth.

Your vision blurs, and that damn burning in your chest feels like it’s about to swallow you whole. You don’t want to feel this, but you can’t shake it. Right when you’re about to lose control, you hear footsteps approaching, and Jimmy’s voice cuts through the chaos in your mind.

"Yo... you good?"

You look up and see him standing there, his usual easygoing look on his face, but tonight it doesn’t help. He’s wearing his black fitted shirt, shorts, and Air Forces, his hair pulled back into that ponytail you’ve always admired. But all you can focus on is the tightness in your chest, the lump in your throat.

He’s your best friend, the one person you’ve trusted with everything—but this? This is Jey. And you can’t hold it in anymore.

Before you can stop it, the sobs come, shaking your entire body. You step back, pressing your hands to your face in an attempt to stop the tears, but it’s no use. The dam breaks, and the words spill out in a choked rush.

"I’m so stupid," you gasp, your voice cracking. "I don’t even know why I did this to myself."

Jimmy’s expression shifts instantly, concern flooding his eyes as he steps closer, but you don’t look up at him. You can’t. It’s like the floodgates have opened, and all the feelings you’ve been hiding pour out in a messy, raw confession.

"I’ve... I’ve caught feelings for Jey, Jimmy," you say, each word a weight you didn’t realize you were carrying. "And now seeing him with someone else... It’s... it’s fuckin’ with me." The pain in your chest is almost unbearable, like a knot tightening with every word. "I aint want to let myself fall for him. But I did. And now I can’t... I can’t take this."

Jimmy stands still, completely taken aback. He had no idea what was going on between you and Jey. The quiet moments you shared, the stolen glances, the way your heart beat faster when he was near—all of it, hidden behind the surface.

Jimmy stands there for a moment, processing everything, his face softening with understanding. Then, without a word, he steps forward, pulling you into a tight hug. His arms are steady, grounding you in a way you didn’t expect.

"I ain’t know, Y/N," he says quietly. "I ain’t know you were feeling like this." He holds you a little tighter, like he’s trying to shield you from everything that’s breaking inside. "But whatever you need, I’m here. Always."

The sobs keep coming, and you can barely catch your breath through the blur of tears. The weight in your chest is crushing, suffocating. You’ve kept it all in for so long, pretending everything’s fine, but now it’s spilling out, uncontrollable. And just when you think you might lose it entirely, Jimmy steps back, giving you a little space.

He pulls out a blunt from his pocket, his eyes soft but understanding. “Want some?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t want you having a bad night, and I know a lil’ weed you’ll never turn down.”

You nod, trying to pull yourself together as you wipe at your eyes. It’s not like you haven’t smoked with Jimmy before, and right now, you need anything to calm the storm. You take the blunt from him, the weight of it in your hand almost comforting. Jimmy lights it for you, taking a hit himself before handing it back to you.

“Thanks,” you mutter, inhaling deeply. The smoke fills your lungs, and you hold it in for a second, letting it numb the sharp edge of everything you’ve been feeling. Slowly, you exhale, the haze settling in your head. For a moment, the world doesn’t feel so heavy. You take another hit, this time slower, like it’ll somehow make the chaos inside you less overwhelming.

Jimmy watches you for a second, his hands stuffed in his pockets, waiting. It’s like he knows what’s coming, knows you can’t keep this bottled up much longer.

Finally, you exhale again, feeling the smoke swirl in the air around you, and then you just… spill it. "I’ve been sleeping with Jey," you say, the words coming out all tangled, like they don’t belong to you. But they do. “For months now. After the shows, when we’re both just… wound up, I guess. We hook up, blow off steam. And it’s been like that. No feelings. Nothing serious. Just… a thing.”

You look at Jimmy, his face unreadable. You’re not sure what he’s thinking, but you can’t stop now. You’re too far in. You take another drag from the blunt, feeling the burn in your throat, and continue. “But then, I started feeling stuff, Jim. I didn’t want to. I tried to fight it, but it’s like... with him, it’s different, y’know? The way he looks at me, the way he cares without saying it. I thought maybe it was just… me. Maybe I was just caught up in the moment. But no. I—I really care about him, Jimmy."

Jimmy takes another hit of the blunt, his eyes still on you, but there’s a softness there, like he’s trying to understand what you’re saying. He exhales slowly, the smoke curling in the air between you. “Damn, Y/N,” he mutters, shaking his head. “I had no idea. Like, I knew ya’ll were close, but... damn.” He looks down at the blunt in his hand for a moment, his expression distant. “I didn’t know you were feeling all that.”

You bite your lip, frustrated and embarrassed that this is even happening. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I thought it was just some casual thing, and now I’m all caught up in it. It’s just—everything’s messed up. I never thought I’d fall for him. I thought I was just, like, some random hookup. But now…” You let out a shaky breath, the weight of it all sinking in. “Now it’s more, and I can’t even deal with it. He doesn’t even know.”

Jimmy’s quiet for a moment, his gaze flicking over to you. He steps closer, offering you the blunt again, but this time, he’s looking at you like he’s got your back. “Look, I can’t say I know what it’s like, but I know one thing,” he says, voice steady. “You deserve to be more than some secret, some hookup. You deserve more than what Jey’s giving you right now.”

You blink at him, unsure how to process that. "What do you mean?"

He shrugs, blowing out a puff of smoke. “I mean, if he really feels something for you, he’ll show it. And if not, then… well, you gotta ask yourself if you’re gone keep being in that situation. ‘Cause if you’re feeling this way, you don’t need to hide it, Y/N. You deserve the truth, not some bullshit.”

The words hit you harder than the weed. They sting, but in the best way. He’s right. You know he’s right. You can’t keep pretending this is easy or simple. The whole thing is a mess, and you’re just getting tangled in it. You pull in a shaky breath and blow it out slowly, letting the smoke drift away.

“I’m so scared, Jimmy,” you admit quietly. “I’m scared that if I tell him how I feel, I’ll ruin everything. That he’ll pull away or, worse, he’ll just tell me it was never meant to be serious.”

Jimmy gives you a look—one that’s equal parts sympathy and understanding. “You gotta take that chance, though. You never know what’s gonna happen unless you put yourself out there.”

You look at him, considering his words. Maybe he’s right. Maybe it’s time to stop hiding, to stop pretending like it doesn’t hurt when you see him with someone else. Maybe it’s time to figure out if Jey feels the same. But even so, you can’t help but feel the weight of the uncertainty.

You nod slowly, taking in his words. For the first time tonight, you feel like maybe you’re not completely alone in this shit. You take one more hit from the blunt, letting the smoke fill your lungs as you process everything, trying to find the courage to finally face the truth about what you want and where you go from here.

"Go take a walk, heard there’s a beach nearby. Clear your head a bit."

You nod slowly, appreciating the idea. You need that space, even if it’s just a few minutes. But before you can move, Jimmy adds, "But imma go talk to him."

Your heart skips a beat. "Wait, what?" You look up at him, blinking in surprise.

“Yeah,” he says casually, taking another hit from the blunt. “I’m gonna talk to Jey. See what the hell’s goin’ on. You need answers, and I’m not gonna let him play you like that.”

You want to stop him, to tell him not to, but something about the way he says it makes you feel both grateful and terrified. Jimmy’s loyal. He’s always had your back, and now he's stepping in to help you with something you don’t even have the courage to face yourself. Still, you can’t help the panic that creeps into your chest at the thought of him confronting Jey.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” you ask, the words coming out shaky. You hate the vulnerability in your voice, but it’s impossible to hide. "What if he doesn’t... I mean, what if it makes things worse?"

Jimmy shrugs, a carefree expression on his face despite the tension in the air. "If he’s playing games, I’m gonna let him know. You don’t deserve that. But if he’s feeling the same, then maybe it’ll clear the air, you know?"

You hesitate, biting your lip, but then nod. “Okay... I guess.”

Jimmy shoots you a reassuring look. "Don’t worry about it, girl. Go get some air. Get your head right. I’ll handle this shit."

You watch him for a second, then turn toward the direction of the beach, the sound of the waves crashing faint in the distance. The air is cool, and for the first time tonight, you feel like you might be able to breathe again. But a part of you stays tangled in the mess of emotions, unsure of what’s going to happen next.

You start walking, the sound of your footsteps muffled by the soft sand beneath your feet. The beach is empty, just you and the distant ocean stretching out under the Puerto Rican sky. It feels peaceful, but the storm inside you is far from calm.

As you walk, you think about Jey—how he makes you feel, how you’re not sure what any of this is anymore. The thought of him with that girl at the bar still stings, but Jimmy’s words keep echoing in your mind. You deserve more than this. You deserve to know where you stand.

You let the waves crash against the shore, the saltwater breeze hitting your skin, but in the back of your mind, you can’t help but wonder if you’re about to get answers that you’ve been too scared to ask for.

Jey's POV

This girl won’t stop talking to me.

She’s been running her mouth for the past ten fuckin’ minutes, touching my arm, laughing a little too hard at things I barely even said. I been fake-smiling, nodding along, throwing in a couple “that’s crazy”s, but she ain’t getting the hint. I ain’t even really hearing what she’s saying at this point. My eyes keep scanning the room, looking for something—someone—else to focus on. But before I can spot her, I see Jimmy walking up, nodding at me like yo, we need to talk.

Thank God.

I exhale, brushing the girl off with a quick, “Aight, imma talk to you later,” not even waiting for a response before I make my way to Jimmy.

“Wassup, uce?” I say, dapping him up real quick.

Jimmy looks me dead in the eye, no hesitation. “When was you gon’ tell me you fuckin’ Y/N?”

My whole body tenses.

What?

I feel my stomach drop, but I play it cool, keeping my face neutral. “Bruh, what the hell you talkin’ bout?” I mutter, grabbing his arm and yanking him into the hallway, away from the noise and the crowd. My heart’s already beating fast, my mind racing. How the fuck does he know?

Jimmy leans against the wall, arms crossed, giving me that look—like he already got all the answers and he’s just waiting on me to stop bullshitting. “Don’t play dumb, bruh,” he says, voice low but firm. “She just told me everything.”

I swear my heart skips a beat.

Everything?

I swallow hard, shifting on my feet. “Man, she trippin’—”

“Nah,” Jimmy cuts me off, shaking his head. “She ain’t trippin’. She’s hurt, uce. She thinks you don’t feel nothin’ for her, and meanwhile, you over here lettin’ some random hoe rub up on you like she don’t exist.”

My jaw clenches. “It ain’t even like that.”

Jimmy scoffs. “Then what is it like?”

I exhale sharply, dragging a hand down my face. My mind’s all over the place, my chest tight as hell. Y/N told him? She never said shit to me. Not about feelings. Not about wanting more. And yeah, I been feeling some type of way about her too, but I ain’t never been good at this type of thing. I don’t do the whole talk about your emotions shit.

Jimmy tilts his head, waiting. He knows me too well. Knows when I’m holding back.

“You care about her, don’t you?” he finally says.

I stay quiet.

Jimmy huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. “Man, you so damn stupid.”

That makes me snap. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re actin’ like you ain’t already in too deep,” he says, pushing off the wall. “I saw the way you looked at her earlier. And now she’s outside damn near breakin’ down ‘cause she thinks she’s just a hookup to you.”

I look away, jaw tight.

She really thinks that?

The thought alone makes my stomach twist up and shit. I never wanted her to feel like that. Yeah, we started this whole thing just messing around, but it stopped being just sex a long time ago. I been trying to keep it low, trying not to make it messy, but I should’ve known Y/N would get in my head, under my skin.

She already got me.

I take a deep breath, rubbing the back of my neck. “Where she at?” I ask, voice low.

Jimmy smirks, like he knew this was coming. “Took a walk to the beach.”

I nod, already moving toward the door. Jimmy claps a hand on my shoulder as I pass him. “Fix this, bruh,” he mutters. “Before you lose her.”

I don’t even answer. I just step out of the house, the warm Puerto Rican night air hitting me as I make my way toward the beach—toward her.

Your POV

The beach is quiet, nobody but you. Just the waves crashing, the salty breeze tangling in your hair, and the distant hum of the party still going on back at the house. It’s just you and the ocean, but somehow, the silence is the loudest thing you’ve heard all night.

You sink into the sand, stretching your legs out in front of you, the cool grains clinging to your skin. Your flared mini orange skirt fans out around your thighs, the matching top hugging your body, but you don’t feel cute right now. You feel stupid. Your heels sit beside you, abandoned, because what’s the point of looking put together when you feel like you’re falling apart inside?

You lean back on your hands, staring out at the waves, trying to process everything.

You shouldn’t have caught feelings. That was the rule. That was the one damn rule you set for yourself when this whole thing with Jey started. Casual. No strings. No messy emotions. But now? Now your chest is heavy, and your eyes sting, and you can still see that girl all over him like you weren’t even in the same damn room. Like you were nothing.

You press your lips together, shaking your head at yourself. I’m so stupid, you think bitterly. I don’t even know why I did this to myself.

A tear slips down your cheek before you can stop it, and you wipe it away quickly, annoyed at yourself for even crying over this. Over him. He was never yours, so why does it feel like you just lost something?

"MA!"

You hear a familiar voice behind you, cutting through the sound of the waves. Your stomach tightens, and when you turn around, there he is—Jey, jogging toward you, his face set in something between frustration and urgency. The sight of him makes your breath hitch, but the anger that’s been simmering in your chest all night flares right back up.

“What do you want, Jey?” you snap, standing up before he even reaches you. Your voice is sharp, and you don’t care. Not anymore. You’re too hurt, too pissed off to hold it in.

He slows to a stop in front of you, chest rising and falling like he ran straight from the house to find you. “We needa talk,” he says, tone firm, eyes locked onto yours.

You let out a short, humorless laugh, crossing your arms. “Oh, now you wanna talk?”

Jey sighs, running a hand over his head. “Come on, ma, don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?” You step closer, your voice rising. “Act like I don’t give a damn when I do? Act like seeing you with some random girl all over you doesn’t make me feel like shit?”

His jaw tightens. “It wasn’t even like that—”

“Oh, really?” you cut him off. “’Cause from where I was standing, it sure as hell looked like that.”

Jey groans, tilting his head back like he’s trying to keep his cool. “Man, I wasn’t even paying attention to her! She was just talking, I was tryna be nice—”

“Nice?” You scoff, shaking your head. “Jey, I was right there. And you didn’t even look at me. Not once.” Your voice cracks on that last part, and you hate it, but it’s too late to take it back.

His expression shifts—just for a second. Like your words actually hit him.

“I ain’t know you felt like that,” he says, quieter now.

You swallow hard, blinking up at him. “Yeah, well... now you do.”

Silence hangs between you. The waves crash against the shore, the wind tangles through your hair, but the only thing you feel is the heat of his gaze on you.

Jey exhales sharply, shaking his head. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

You laugh again, but this time, it’s bitter. “Tell you what, Jey? That I caught feelings when I wasn’t supposed to? That I fell for you when this was only supposed to be a thing?” You take a shaky breath, voice lowering. “That every time you touch me, I wanna believe it means something?”

Jey just stares at you, like he doesn’t know what to say. Like he’s struggling to put it into words.

You shake your head, stepping back. “You know what? Fuck it. This was a mistake. I’m a mistake.”

Jey’s eyes flash with something—anger, frustration, desperation—you can’t tell. But then, before you can turn away, he grabs your wrist, pulling you back toward him. “Nah. Don’t say that shit,” he mutters, voice rough. “You ain’t a mistake, ma.”

Your breath catches, but you force yourself to stay firm. “Then what am I?”

Jey’s grip tightens, his jaw clenching like he’s fighting himself. Like this is hard for him too. And then, suddenly, it all spills out.

“You everything, Y/N.” His voice is raw, filled with something you’ve never heard from him before. “You all I think about. You all I want—and I been too much of a dumbass to say it.”

Your heart slams against your ribs. “Then why—”

“’Cause I was scared,” he admits, his voice dropping. “Scared if I said it out loud, I’d lose you. But I’m already losing you now, ain’t I?”

You swallow, your eyes burning. “Jey…”

His forehead rests against yours, his breath warm against your lips. “I never thought I’d let anyone in,” he whispers. “But damn… you got all of me. It's just you and me, ma.”

And then, before you can even process what’s happening, his lips crash against yours, desperate and real, different from the hookups. Like he’s been holding back for too long, and now there’s no point in fighting it anymore.

And you don’t fight it either.

You're too paranoid to even settle down, but the way he confesses to you, he has your feelings now.

[mayaree-darling]

Water... Connoisseur?// Neuvillette

synopsis: Neuvillette shares his love for water tasting with the Creator (ft. Paimon and the Traveler)

from aree: this was supposed to be a short funny little thing but as always i can’t keep my mouth shut and now this is 17 pages long

content: Creator!Reader; smol spoiler(?) for and inspired by Neuvillette's story quest and profile/voice over; Reader and the Traveler (and Paimon) have Siblings Energy; I headcanon that the Traveler can see their inventory the way us players can; Pure Crack; Probably OOC Neuvillette

fic length: ~5.3k 

You are the Creator of Teyvat, spending time with the Traveler, Paimon, and Neuvillette. At one point, the Iudex offers for the four of you to take a break in his office and he'll fetch you some refreshments. Almost immediately, you see from the corner of your eye the Traveler and Paimon stutter out that they'll get the drinks themselves, but it's too late. You didn't see what was wrong with Neuvillette offering something to drink - if anything, you're curious to know what kind of drink he'd prepare for his guests. This was your first time tasting what Fontaine had to offer. So you let him go. 

When Neuvillette leaves the room, the traveling duo beside you share a heavy sigh. You turn to them and ask what's wrong. They share a meaningful look. You'll see, they say.

Eventually, Neuvillette comes back rolling a small food trolley in front of him. On top are four silver pitchers and four goblets. Paimon sheepishly laughs, "Here we go."

You step forward - because it's clear to you Traveler and Paimon have no plans on taking initiative - and Neuvillette motions to the pitchers. 

"Each one is from a different nation. I hope that you'll find at least one of them to your tastes, Your Grace. I assure you they are all of high quality, although I have no doubt of it since they are a part of your creation, after all. Personally, I can't say I favor one over the other. I find each one particularly special in its own way, so I must apologize if I cannot give you a recommendation." 

You frown. You... made them? You don't remember something about creating a drink for each nation. Was this a recipe from your old life that only a dragon sovereign could remember? The Traveler clears their throat and mumbles something under their breath. You turn to them questioningly and you watch bemused as their mouth ticks up at the corners.

"It's water." The Traveler looks at everything in the room before their eyes land on you.

You blink. "Excuse me?"

"Haha.. It's just water... The drinks..." If Paimon was standing on solid ground, you think she would be bouncing on the balls of her feet, her arms behind her. When she meets your eyes, she lets out a sheepish laugh. "That's what Neuvillette means by they're from every nation. They're... spring water from different places."

You slowly look at the Traveler and Paimon in turn, hoping for a deeper explanation or for them to tell you they were pulling your leg, but both of them refuse to look you in the eye. Your mouth is opened to a permanent gasp of understanding as you turn back to the food trolley in front of you.

Oh...

"Is there something wrong, Your Grace?" You almost regret looking at Neuvillette. Although he doesn't usually show his emotions, it's almost like he can't help but show you how dejected he looks. To put it simply, it felt like you kicked an otter to the curb, sad puppy eyes and everything. You half expect it to start raining outside that instant. "I can arrange for the Melusine to make something else, if you'd like. I'm sure they'd be honored to -"

"NO! No. It's okay. It's fine, Neuvillette. Thank you for the offer, but it's fine." You shoot a frown at the duo, who have taken to plastering themselves on one of the many sofas in the room, intent on letting you handle the water situation. You breathe in and take a step forward, taking one of the goblets. "You said each one is special, right? I'm sure they'll taste... nice..."

You pointedly ignore the Traveler as they grumble once more (you pretend you didn't just hear Paimon say "no it won't"). You look at each of the pitchers and pretend to be thinking hard about your choice. It's kind of hard to make a choice now that you know they're all just water. Your only saving grace is you know where they came from.

"I think I'll start off with... Sumeru!" Neuvillette all but beams at your decision and picks up the selected pitcher. You're glad he did because you didn't know which was which. You pray to Nahida that you didn't make a bad choice (the God of Wisdom has yet to fail you since your descent and you hope that she has your back this time, too.) Holding out your goblet, you watch as Neuvillette fills the cup half way, almost hoping there's a telltale sign of a difference (or it's a different drink altogether).

It's just water.

"A wonderful choice, Your Grace. This particular water comes from Apam Woods of Sumeru. You'll find the taste to be rich and complex. Despite usually having to take the time to savor it to fully appreciate it, I'm sure Your Grace will have no problem distinguishing its special flavor, which is unlike any other."

Did he have to put the pressure on you like that? 

You laugh sheepishly as you fight to give Neuvillette your best thankful smile. Taking back the goblet, you stare at your drink, deciding your best bet was to examine it if you were going to "savor" it. Maybe it was a different color? No, it's still translucent in nature. Swirling it a few times, it doesn't appear to have a thicker viscosity as it sloshes around your cup. As for the smell it was- 

Wait. Huh?

"It's fragrant," you mumble. Only when you hear yourself clearly do you realize the room is silent. Looking up, you see Neuvillette staring at you, and behind you, even the Traveler and Paimon have taken an interest in your exchange. All eyes are trained on you, watching your reaction. You look back to Neuvillette as he lets out a hum.

"It's... fragrant? I must say, even I have never thought to discern its smell. For a moment, please," Neuvillette steps forward and takes a goblet for himself, pouring water from the same pitcher. He pulls the goblet up to his nose. "Hmm. As I thought. It seems I am unable to smell this fragrance you speak of. How interesting."

"Wait. If you can smell it..." You turn to Paimon as she looks at the Traveler. When they look at you, their eyes are expectant.

Surely, you can...?

Looking at Neuvillette, he gives you an encouraging nod. You raise the goblet to your lips and take a tentative sip. And then another. And then... another? You lower the goblet, and then turn to the Traveler.

"It tastes like flowers." You know you and the Traveler share the same incredulous look. You can just feel the disbelief and confusion pulling at your face. Looking at Paimon, she's just as confused, head in her little hands. "When I focus on it, it's floral. Kind of like... tea? Like herbal tea, just less strong. It could even be perfume."

"Marvelous," you look at Neuvillette, and it's clear to you he does not sense the growing bewilderment you and the other two are going through. He smiles at you softly, and you don't have the heart to tell him that water isn't supposed to have a flavor. "I don't seem to recall anyone else sharing my taste for water. But I must say - even I am unable to perfectly put a name or a description to the flavor I experience. It's almost always a feeling."

"WAIT! Waitwaitwaitwait! I wanna try, too!" Paimon rushes to your side and takes your goblet in her hands, ready to drink it. You hear Neuvillette clear his throat and turn to him as he fills the other two goblets with Sumeru water. Paimon lets go of your goblet and goes to take one for herself. You see the Traveller stand up and grab one too. "Is it different from the one we had before? Wait, but it's from the Apam Woods, too..."

The Traveler and Paimon take a big gulp at the same time, licking their lips and savoring the taste before eventually they click their tongues in unison.

"Nope." The Traveler laughs, almost amused and defeated at the same time.

"Nothing's different. It's the same water as last time!" Paimon stomps her little feet in the air. "Are you pulling Paimon's leg?"

"Of course not. However, I am curious. If it is fine with Your Grace, I would love to hear more about what you can taste," If you were honest, you didn't want any more of the spotlight on you - being the Creator, you've had enough of that. But Neuvillette seemed so happy in the moment you couldn't possibly refuse him. 

"Well, besides smelling and tasting like flowers," you take a sip, letting it roll on your tongue. "It also has this sort of herby aftertaste? But only when I focus on it. Kind of like basils? Or rosemary? I can't tell you for sure what kind, but it kind of tastes like that."

When you turn back to them, you're surprised to see Neuvillette looking at you in confusion. Did you say something wrong?

"He doesn't know what those are, dummy," The Traveler sighs. You watch as they take a metal shaker out from their inventory and start preparing a drink of their own. Paimon watches on, excited of drinking something that wasn't just water. "They don't have those here in Teyvat, remember?"

"Traveler, I implore you to watch your words. Was it necessary to call Your Grace as such?" Neuvillette frowns. 

The Traveler shrugs and you both share a secretive smile. "They prefer that over 'Your Grace', though."

Neuvillette turns to you with concern. "Is-is that true, Your Grace? Why would you prefer that name? I can't quite say I agree with that decision but- "

"It's fine, Neuvillette. I forgot you didn't know any of those herbs, so I'm sorry for that. Just know the water tastes like it has a bit of herbs or spice to it." You shake your head with a laugh, thinking of a way to change the subject. "Anyway, can I taste the other ones?"

Neuvillette almost visibly lights up at that and takes another of the pitchers, filling your emptied goblet with more water.

"This one is from Inazuma's Konda Village. For its mouthfeel, I find it quite placid." Neuvillette looks at you expectantly. You're reminded again of a puppy, or in his case, an otter. A very cute otter. As you put the goblet to your lips, you have half a mind to gift him a seashell.

You take a sip and almost immediately spit it out. In an instant, Neuvillette is by your side, throwing the goblet halfway across the room. Before you realize it, you're in his arms and he has half a mind to bolt out the room to get you to a healer until you stop him.

"WAIT! Wait, Neuvi, just calm down-" you descend into a coughing fit.

"Your Grace! What's wrong? Is it poison? Were you poisoned?! Oh no, Paimon can't look-" 

"That's preposterous. I prepared the drinks myself," he says that, but Neuvillette talks like he's suddenly doubting himself. 

"You sure you don't need to get healed?" the Traveler frowns in concern, turning your face this way and that, looking for signs of poisoning.

You shake your head again and swallow down another cough, clearing your throat. "No, no, I don't need a healer. I wasn't poisoned. I just wasn't expecting to suddenly take a shot of sparkling water." 

The Traveler blinks, there's a pause as it sinks in, and suddenly they stand up and head back to the food trolley. They pick up the shaker they unceremoniously left when everyone panicked and resumed making their drink.

"Traveler, are you gonna make medicine for the Creator?" Paimon floats around you in concern. 

"You guys can stop panicking. They're not gonna die," the Traveler sighs and looks at you with a face that can only be described as 'Are you for reals.' "I think they were just surprised with how the water tasted."

You motion for Neuvillette to let you down, which he does albeit very hesitantly. You merely laugh at the concern on his face and give him a pat on the back to reassure him that no, the Creator was not going to die on his watch just because of a bad drink of water. 

The Iudex frowns hard looking at the pitcher of Inazuman water. "You called it... sparkling water? Pardon me if I'm wrong, but am I to assume water from Inazuma has different visual properties? Does Your Grace see something we are unable to? And if so, does this difference have an effect on the taste?" 

You shake your head again for what seemed like the thousandth time, before you stop and think about it for a second. You head to the food trolley and pick up Paimon's empty cup. Pouring Inazuman water from the pitcher, you watch as normal looking water fills the goblet. The normal fizzle of bubbles you expect from a carbonated drink is not present, even as you swirl it around. 

Before Neuvillette can stop you, you take a sip of it again. You hear him stifle a gasp. His hand is on your shoulder, ready to bring you to Sigewinne at record speed if needed. But you weren't mistaken - it really does taste like sparkling water. Weird. You turn to Neuvillette and try to look as reassuring as possible.

"So, back from... where I came from, we have this drink called sparkling water. It's not that it was particularly, uh, sparkly, but it did have a lot of bubbles. The water from Inazuma here looks like regular water, but it does feel like sparkling water in your mouth," you explain slowly. The look of doubt doesn't leave Neuvillete's face. "It's also not deadly for us, just like how this water isn't. I mean, you like drinking it, right? That means it's fine for consumption." 

He visibly eases up at your words. He reluctantly lets go of your shoulder with a shaky exhale. You kinda feel bad for making him so worried. Eventually, you watch as he calms down from the panic earlier and suddenly he's back to his stoic self, unable to resist his interest in your water tasting experience.

"So this so-called sparkling water... what does it feel like? May you explain? I'm afraid I cannot quite imagine it." Neuvillette looks to be deep in thought and you laugh softly. He really was into water tasting. 

"Oh? Paimon thinks Mondstadt has something similar."

The Traveler pauses from taking a sip of their new drink - Boreal Watch, you remember it's called - before opening their inventory. They scroll through a list of ingredients before taking out a single bottle. The bubbling liquid is a familiar sight. "They call it Fizzy Water. I used it to make drinks at Angel's Share once. Feel free to drink this, Monsieur Neuvillette. Master Diluc gave it as a freebie."

Neuvillette takes the bottle with a nod of thanks. He examines the packaging for a moment, pops the bottle open and takes a swig. There's a pregnant pause before he turns his back to you, takes his goblet and spits out the drink into it out of your line of sight. The three of you don't have to look at each other to know the expression the others have; Paimon sounds like she's close to tears from holding in her laughter. 

When Neuvillette turns to you again, you give him a small smile, ready to comfort him, before he drops to his knee in front of you. You try to pull him up by his arms but he just holds on to your hands.

"Your Grace, please allow me to apologize for making you go through that."

"H-hey, I didn't mind you literally spitting it out, come on now, I basically did the same thing if not worse-"

"No. Not that, Your Grace. I also apologize for that, yes, but I refused to swallow that drink down no matter the cost." He's staring at you dead in the eyes and he looked so serious it was unnerving. "I'm apologizing for letting you drink the water from Inazuma. Had I known that is what you would experience, I would have skipped offering it to you as a refreshment." 

"Please stand up. Don't worry about it. It's not that big of a deal," you pull on his arms again and he doesn't resist, standing back up. "I told you it's a normal drink from where I'm from, right? I was just shocked because I wasn't expecting it."

"Do you mean..." Neuvillette visibly cringes, much to your amusement. "People from your old land... like? To drink it? How... eccentric."

"So do those from Mondstadt, Monsieur Neuvillette," you turn to the Traveler in disbelief that they'd say that right now, but all they give you back is a devious grin peeking from atop their cup as they take another sip. "Dawning Dew was a bestseller."

Paimon clears her throat as she collects herself. "It's kind of funny that Neuvillette can't feel the fizziness when he's drinking? He said that he can feel what he drinks, not taste it. Paimon wonders what's up with that."

"What's Konda Village water like for you, again?" you hum.

"If I had to put a word to it," Neuvillette thought about it for a second. "Placid."

"Placid? That's one way to describe something." Paimon shrugs. 

"Yes, that was how I would have described it," Neuvillette shoots a glare at the bottle of Fizzy Water and another concerned look at you. "After current events, I can't quite say the same."

Paimon was right, though. Placid was definitely a different way of describing things. Placid meant... calm? Or tranquil? You definitely didn't think that's how you'd describe Inazuma. Wait, Inazuma? And that feeling of sparkling water...

"Is it possible... You think it's 'placid'... because your mouth has gone numb?" you gape at Neuvillette.

He stares back at you blankly. The silence in the room is deafening. 

“Maybe… don’t drink that for a while. Not until you’re ready again,” you offer.

“Agreed.” Neuvillette nods stiffly. 

“Alright!” you clap your hands and turn back to the food trolley. “What’s next?” 

To your surprise, Neuvillette’s hand wraps around your wrist as you manage to grasp the next pitcher's handle. He looks just as surprised as you do that he’s holding on to you. 

“Neuvi…llette?” you blink at him.

“Forgive me, Your Grace,” he lets go like he was burned, but he doesn’t exactly move away. “But we can stop here if you so wish.” 

“What do you mean?”

“What I mean to say is,” Neuvillette coughs into his fist, thinking hard about his next words. “Although I wish to learn more about the different tastes Your Grace can experience, I must admit I am unable to guide you nor accompany you in your journey, per say. Should there be something wrong with the following water samples, I can only watch and listen like the others, but not help until much later.”

You nod slowly. 

“It means he’s concerned, dummy,” a voice calls out from behind you and you roll your eyes.

“Yeah, I kind of got that, thanks for the heads up,” you groan.

“If I am honest,” Neuvillette’s voice is soft, you’d even be confident to say it’s like he only wants you to hear. “I feel like a scientist watching my latest test subject. Fascinated, and yet should a problem arise, useless.”

“Hey, don’t say that,” you frown at him, but the expression easily slides off your face when he faces you (damn those sad otter eyes). Eventually, you offer him a soft smile. “If I really considered this as life threatening as you think, I would have stopped after the first pitcher. But I’m genuinely having fun, alright? So don’t worry too much about it.”

He doesn’t look quite convinced. You have been telling him to calm down a lot this entire time. When he opens his mouth to dissuade you, you beat him to it.

“I should thank you, you know.”

“Excuse me?” Neuvillette gapes at you. “I almost rushed you to a healer just a moment ago, Your Grace. I have done nothing to earn your gratitude.”

“That’s the thing, though, thank you for taking care of me this entire time, Neuvillette. You’ve been looking out for me every time we’re together, so thank you,” without thinking it over, you close the distance between you two and hug him. When you pull away, he’s intent on not looking you in the eye. “Thank you also for introducing me to water tasting. Never thought the day would come but here we are. It really is quite fun.”

“I see…” Neuvillette says, before abruptly turning around, giving you a clear view of his reddened ears. “Pardon me for a moment, Your Grace. I just… need to recollect for a moment.” 

Before you can say anything else, he leaves your side and goes to get your goblet he threw earlier in a panic. He kneels down and picks it up, but instead of heading back towards you, he just sort of holds it, turning it around in his hand mindlessly. You watch, jaw slightly open, until you feel a presence behind you. 

“I think you broke him.” 

You turn to the Traveler with concern. “Yeah I think so, too, should I be worried?” 

You both turn to Neuvillette, seeing he’s still busy with his goblet, before looking back to each other.

“I bet 500 mora he’ll go back to normal if you make yourself another drink.” 

“It’s not really a bet if we agree on the same thing, though?” 

You clear your throat, hoping to catch Neuvillette’s attention as you turn to Paimon. “Paimon, mind if I borrow your cup for now? We can share if you need it.”

“No, that’s okay. Paimon’s had enough of water. Paimon will share with the Traveler!” Almost on cue, the Traveler offers their drink to Paimon. 

The moment you lift the next pitcher, Neuvillette is by your side in an instant, your goblet and his safely set aside for washing later. “May I do the honors, Your Grace?” 

You offer your goblet as he holds up the pitcher. He pauses.

“Promise me we’ll stop if things get… awry.”

You smile. “You said it yourself, right? This is water prepared by the Iudex himself and made by the Creator themselves. I don’t doubt for a second that it’s not safe.” 

Neuvillette shares your smile softly before pouring the water into your goblet. Third time’s the charm, right? You take a sip and… raise an eyebrow.

“It’s salty. Huh.” you take another sip. “Sort of metallic, too. That’s pretty close to the same thing but, yeah, I’d say it’s rather salty.”

“Salty? That’s quite strange.” Neuvillette double checks that he’s holding the right pitcher. “This water is from Liyue, particularly from Qingce Village. I know of the water from Liyue to have an enduring aftertaste, but I must say I was not expecting it to be salty.”

“Me, too; for Liyue I was kind of expecting it to have an earthy kind of taste. Whatever that tastes like, I don’t know, but I was ready for anything besides this,” you take another sip. “Can’t say it’s all that bad, though. I feel like I’m at a beach.”

“Only if you’re actively drinking the sea water.” 

You don’t even bother looking behind you. “I said it ‘felt’ like. I didn’t say ‘taste’ like. Get your facts straight.”

Looking up at Neuvillette, you realize he’s only watching your reactions. He smiles softly when he finds your attention on him. Not wanting to be the only one “enjoying” the drink, you offer your goblet to him. He looks at you, slightly alarmed, but when you make no move to take the goblet back, he reluctantly takes it. He turns away from you as he drinks. 

You hear the Traveler clear their throat behind you. When you go to look, their eyebrows are raised at you. They look to Neuvillette and then to you before scoffing. Oh… was it that intimate an action?

“A-anyway,” you clear your throat as Neuvillette hands the goblet back to you. There’s a small pleased smile on his face. “What do you think of when you drink water from Liyue?” 

“For me,” Neuvillette closes his eyes for a few seconds, careful of what to say next. “I always thought it had a poignant touch to it.”

“Poignant?” What did you think of when you thought of poignant? Swirling the water around your cup, you recall a story quest. Liyue, salt, and water are key factors in its plot. A sad smile overtakes your features. “Ah. Yes, I guess poignant would be a good word for that. Salty is the right word, too.”

Neuvillette tilts his head to the side at your sudden change in demeanor. “Your Grace?”

“It’s nothing. Just thought I’d visit an old friend sometime.” you tilt your head back as you down the rest of the cup. “Anyways, I think I need something else to wash that off.” 

“Ah, yes. I suppose that does come with consuming salty foods.” Neuvillette nods. “Would you like a different drink? Something aside from water, I mean.”

“Actually, water is good for washing off salt, so I thought I’d ask for more water.”

He holds up the last silver pitcher. “We have Mondstadt left, if you would like to give it a try right now.”

“How would you describe it?” you ask, but you’re already holding out your goblet.

“This particular batch is from Cider Lake.” Neuvillette fills your goblet a little more than usual, most likely to fully cleanse the salt from your palate. “Besides having a crisp and clear feel, I also find that it warms the heart.”

“Oh, wow, guess Venti’s got it nice going for him,” you lift the goblet to your lips and drink.

“I’d be bold enough to say it’s the only thing nice going for him.”

You almost spit out your drink for the second time this day. You turn to look at the Traveler, but they’re busy having a debate with Paimon. That means that the person who said that was-

Neuvillette takes the goblet from your hands and drinks. When you look at him, jaw hanging open still from disbelief, you watch as the corners of his mouth tick up.

“Are you allowed to say that?” you whisper. The Traveler and Paimon don’t seem to have heard, but you sure as hell did.

“I just did, did I not?” He offers a small smile that borders on innocent if it wasn’t so conspiratorial. “I have faith that the Creator will not spread rumors about me, I hope.”

You don’t know if you’d still call it a rumor when he so blatantly did it in front of you, but you end up laughing. You put both hands up as a show of surrender. No way in hell were you telling on the dragon sovereign of Fontaine.

“So, as for our final drink,” Neuvillette offers the goblet back. “What do you make of water from Mondstadt?”

You make a show of finishing the cup all in one go. “Out of all the ones we tasted, I think this has got to be my favorite so far.” 

“Oh? Is it that good?” Neuvillette watches you keenly, awaiting for more details. 

“Yep. It tastes like water.”

Neuvillette chuckles softly, but when you simply offer him a smile, his smile drops. “You… are not joking?”

“Nah. It’s exactly as you say - it’s crisp and clean. It’s how water tasted like back from my world,” you hum in delight. “It doesn’t remind me of anything else but the pure taste of water. Can’t put my finger on whether it’s distilled, mineral, or tap water, all I know is that it’s water for me.” 

“Hmm. Although I want to say it’s rather an anticlimactic ending, I can’t say so. I leave today with the knowledge that there is still a water sample we can similarly taste.” Neuvillette smiles to himself once more. “But that’s enough of that. I believe I’ve put you through enough for today, Your Grace. Thank you for entertaining me and my hobbies.”

“I had fun! Make sure to call me next time you get a new sample, I’d love to have a taste.” You beam at him.

Neuvillette stares at you for a moment - was he waiting for you to tell him it was just a joke? Sure seemed like it - before his smile was back, relieved. You can almost see his little otter tail waving around. “Of course. I already look forward to it.” 

“Are you done now?” 

You take a step back as Paimon suddenly steps into the middle. Her little frown does little to make you feel bad. If anything, it has the opposite effect and you laugh. Her frown deepens at you as you rub her little head. 

“Yeah, yeah, we’re done. We can get a meal now.”

“Woohoo! We're getting meals, plural. Where are we going to eat? Paimon wants some Fontainian Foie Gras!” you follow the fairy as she heads out the door, excited for the prospect of food. And then you pause as you remember.

“Ah, wait. Before we leave. Just one more thing.”

You head back to the food trolley and grab Paimon’s goblet. You make a beeline for a corner in Neuvillette’s office. You noticed earlier there was a small drinking fountain. Gathering enough water into your cup, you take a sip. You turn to Neuvillette.

“Oh my gosh, it’s sweet.”

＝＝✿＝＝｜✧••❀••✧｜＝＝✿＝＝ 

❀BONUS❀

The Traveler and Paimon share an exasperated sigh for what seemed like the hundredth time in the past week. Ever since the water tasting incident, the Creator and Neuvillette have taken to going around Teyvat, trying out different waters straight from the spring of each nation. 

"Why do we have to visit each nation? Paimon thought you could just have them delivered straight to your office!" Paimon leans on the Traveler's head, tired from floating around so much. 

"Appreciating the nation from which the drink came from is part of the experience, Paimon." Neuvillette swirls the water in his goblet, offering it to the floating fairy, who only takes a look at it before cringing away.

The Traveler and Paimon share another look. They know he just likes the opportunity to bond with the Creator over their appreciation of water.

"Are we going back home after this?" Paimon groans.

"I can make you some Sticky Honey Roast if you guide us to Snezhnaya?" You take another sip from your goblet, one made from pure magical ore.

("Your Grace deserves only the finest things, even if it's only dinnerware and the likes," said Neuvillette. "I may also add that a traveling merchant said that drinking from a crystal goblet highlights the taste of the refreshment, as it is free from the taste of metal usually found in a standard cup." You don't mention that you notice he has a matching goblet, right next to a pile of books on his desk. Embedded on it is a familiar seashell.)

In an instant, Paimon is by your side, eyes glittering with determination. "If you cook three Sticky Honey Roasts for Paimon, Paimon can take you to Kh'aenriah."

You lower your goblet and hold out a hand. "Two. And I'll throw in a Squirrel Fish if you find a lake where we can drink from."

"Deal." Paimon takes your hand and you shake on it.

The Traveller flops to the ground and sighs.

They knew they were going to be the one to look for that lake.

✨ Masterlist ✨

Taglist: 💛@wonpielle 💜@shikanosn

Disclaimer: Characters are not mine and belong to their respective creators. Their portrayal is merely my own interpretation of them and may not be accurate to their intended characterization. I stake no claim to the original works, only to the ideas and plot of the fictitious stories I’ve written them into.

[bicth-and-in-that-order]

Rambling thoughts of various Yuri manga I’ve read

1. Kase-San and Yamada (Morning Glories sequel series) by Hiromi Takashima

notice how Kase’s name is first, which is representative of her being the main one to cause problems in their relationship

If you asked me what my favorite yuri manga was like 2-3 years ago, I’d say Morning Glories and Kase San everytime. Every avid yuri fan has either read or watched Morning Glories because, at the time in 2010, it was groundbreaking, and I stand by the fact that the original series still holds up to this day. It was cute, sweet, wholesome and only had a few obligatory “we love each other but we’re giRLs😳😳😳” moments. Most of all it wasn’t a pseudo-incest-straight-male-porn-pandering-garbage-fest—also known as “Citrus”. Was it cliche at times? Yes, but they all are lol. Did they add to the dumb ass “blonde femme and dark hair masc” trope? Also yes. But it was adorable and it was my first ever yuri so it holds a special place in my heart.

And it SEEMED like it was only going to get better in Kase San and Yamada, the sequel. The girls would be heading to college and the story could theoretically focus on more mature topics while they navigate their new relationship. Keyword: theoretically. Unfortunately, instead of exploring interesting relationship dynamics and storylines, the plot of each story arc boils down to: Kase is insecure because a man breathed next to Yamada or Kase is being completely insensitive to Yamada’s feelings…again…—> ✨miscommunication drama ✨—>big over dramatic apology scene—>boring makeup sex or other romantic gesture.

Literally that’s how every single plotline goes. Kase is so goddamn dumb and insensitive to Yamada’s feelings and Yamada’s a complete doormat who can only stay mad for 0.2 seconds before getting pussy whipped like a spineless ass bitch. And for all that Yamada sacrifices for Kase; her hometown, her dreams, her apartment, what does she get in return from Kase? Oh that’s right; bare minimum romantic gestures and a neglectful partner who can’t even call her “girlfriend” in front of others:

Like I thought we were over this shit. It’s been THREE years of them together, a whole anime production, and god knows how many irl years and we’re going back to “we love each other but we’re giRLs😳😳😳” WHY???

And then Kase later goes onto bet her entire three year relationship over the ugly bitch in the next panel, so now I’m questioning whether or not Kase even loves Yamada with the amount of bullshit she’s put her through. Which COULD be an interesting plot point, but Kase never gets any consequences for her actions and the creator genuinely thinks this is romantic and full of tension so I’m 10000% positive that this arc, just like all the others, will end with some makeup sex and we’ll be right back to step 1. Sigh.

2. Tamen De Gushi by Tan Jiu

Tamen De Gushi’s problems are interesting but it’s NOT because of the Chinese government💀

So today’s dark haired masc and blonde femme of the day are Sun Jing and Qiu Tong, respectively. Their personalities aren’t anything to write home about, if you read ANY high school yuri romance, then you know exactly what happens in this story beat for beat. But, BUT, however derivative it is, I find their dynamic very endearing and down to earth. Idk maybe it’s just the translation, but other yuri stories often have this very inauthentic “anime” vibe to it. Which is to say the characters act very cutesy, overly dramatic, and have this stilted, caricature-esque acting of how the creator thinks teenage girls are supposed act.

However, I’m happy to report that Tamen De Gushi is a breath of fresh air in this regard. The characters and interactions they have are grounded and feel organic, which makes them feel like real people, not aliens pretending to be human. This really elevates the humor in turn, oh did I mention that Tamen De Gushi is super funny? Because Tamen De Gushi is super funny, here’s one of my favorite panels and it’s all because of Sun Jing’s goofy ahh expression:

Like go girl give us nothing

If you’re wondering why I haven’t spoke much about the actual romantic relationship between the girls, that’s because there isn’t one💀 Which, okay, that’s not a fair assessment, they have a ton of romantic tension and they flirt a lot. It’s certainly building to a great romantic relationship, but it can’t quite get there due to legal/political reasons sadly. 😔

Edit: I received new information in regards to what happened to Tamen De Gushi. While I reached my limit for posting pictures, I want to point out that the Chinese government had nothing to do with Tamen De Gushi getting censored, rather it was a dispute between the author and the publishing company. The prior information I received was false and I prob should’ve looked it up more so sorrrry. The fact still remains though that after their big lesbian kiss towards the middle of the story and maybe a few other moments, that’s just kind of it. You’re stuck waiting for something to develop, but nothing really happens. The comic very quickly becomes a collection of slice of life segments and cute pictures that imply a relationship between the girls, but not really ;) ;).  Now things are just kind of left in purgatory for the foreseeable future and, well, that’s Tamen De Gushi y’all.

Compared to Kase San and Yamada, the characters were much better, which is not saying much, but without an actual romantic storyline, there’s just not a lot for me to comment on to be honest. It’s really pretty though, look at this art :

3. Beauty and the Beast Girl by Neji

my personal favorite and the BEST yuri I ever read

So next on the list is Beauty and the Beast Girl (I’m going to abbreviate to BatBG from here on) , which I already spoiled my feelings on the matter so this will basically be me gushing about this story for several paragraphs straight, enjoy.

Contrary to what the title suggests, it really has nothing to do with Beauty and the Beast’s story except in name. The main girls are Lily Blind, who is actually fucking blind 💀 and Heath the monster girl. Already I’m happy because instead of blonde femme and dark hair butch, it’s blonde femme and of-course-you-have-purple-hair-and-pronouns masc. Lol, all jokes aside, Lily, unlike her blonde femme counterparts is quite assertive and voices her opinions all the time. In fact, she’s the one who pushes Heath to be more open and communicate with her rather than the other way around. This is, in part, due to the story BatBG is trying to tell. I say BatBG is in name only to Beauty and the Beast because Lily isn’t trying to find the “beauty” within Heath or learning to love a beast or whatever, she’s fine just the way she is and her love for Heath is unconditional. Plus the only thing beastly about Heath is her appearance…which I’ll harp on later, but her behavior is in no way different from a regular human except in very rare, specific moments.

At its heart, BatBG is a story about forgiveness (the creator literally says as much) , but it’s also about the cycle of violence that results from being outcasted and deprived of love. BatBG is set in a world of humans and monsters, where the monsters are outcasted and either have to stay away from human society like Heath or assimilate themselves by hiding away their monster like traits, which is a really queer narrative on top of an already queer story. I don’t want to go into too much spoilers, but sometime before the beginning of the story, Heath in-directly hurts Lily before they ever meet. However, it’s not about Lily needing to forgive Heath, or trying to get over the pain she inflicted upon her, rather its Heath learning to forgive herself and in effect, learning to love herself as much as Lily loves her.

Another big aspect of BatBG is disabilities, Lily Blind is in fact Blind lol and while there are times she struggles with her blindness, she never views her disability as something she needs to be ashamed of and never, ever, blames Heath for it or holds it against her unlike what many, many, many, many other stories end up doing. Her blindness isn’t treated like a super power either, it’s a legitimate disability. She just accepts that it’s a part of her and goes onto say that if not for her blindness, she would’ve never met the love of her life, which I found to be an incredibly profound thing to say.

Now that I’ve gotten this far, I suppose I can add a bit of a disclaimer. So BatBG is waaaaay more explicit about the physical affection between the girls than in any of the previous stories I talked about. Heath and Lily are constantly kissing on, hugging, and almost always flirting with each other, and make no mistake, these girls do be fucking. The sex scenes are never perverted or gross, but genuinely super sweet and romantic, which makes it way hotter imo (huh imagine that🤔). And aside from being hot, it also serves a purpose! Lily’s pretty damn horny underneath all her nice girl antics and while it’s not a major part of her character, it does give a slight edge to her personality and, most importantly, balances out the dynamic between Heath and Lily. It would’ve been very easy to fall into that boring trope where Heath is aggressively horny and Lily is the submissive blind girl, but by making Lily be the one to initiate the sexual encounters, it not only compliments Heath’s more reserved nature, but breaks the stereotype that people with disabilities are pure precious being who couldn’t possibly have sex, which is ableist af btw. Many people think the existence of any sex scenes at all is superfluous, but in BatBG, it truly elevates the story, the characters, and the romance in ways that wouldn’t be nearly as satisfying without it.

Now, with as much praise I gave BatBG, there is one criticism I have, but it’s a quibble really, and it can be explained in a single image:

There is a dissonance between the story and the art, the story says: “Heath is a big, ugly scary monster”

The art says:

And like yes, it can be argued that Heath is simply regurgitating the things bigoted people have said to her, but at no point in the story is this ever challenged or brought up in any meaningful way. Lily is blind so she doesn’t know what the hell she looks like and the other characters aren’t any help either. It’s not a big deal or anything, it just would’ve elevated the story if Heath was actually kinda ugly/more monstrous and not incredibly beautiful because right now it’s giving skinny girl who calls herself fat all the time, and it’s like, babe, who tf are you fooling? 😭

Other than that, BatBG is incredibly profound despite its premise being so deceptively simple and I love it to pieces so …yeah! READ IT.

4. Superwomen in Love! Honey Trap and Rapid Rabbit by sometime

Well, at least there are no blondes

So imma just abbreviate to SiL btw

Alright, let’s get started. The premise is that a villainess falls for the super hero girl and then that plotline is dropped in about 16 pages. I’m not even joking, the villainess falls for the hero, loses her job as a villain and then joins the hero all in one chapter. The REAL plot is actually about a council of evil alien-humans who want to destroy humanity because of generic super villain reason #434: the leader of the aliens is sad and misunderstood :( I’m not even going to lie, I had 0 interest in “X” (the generic ass name of the main villain) and her band of useless lesbians. They did literally nothing in the story except be a nuisance and contribute to X’s incel breakdown at the end. Their inclusion actively made SiL worse because the story has this weird tonal problem where in one breath the villains are portrayed as complete jokes and then you turn the page and now they’re shooting children like girl what💀 And these useless lesbians hog sooooo much of SiL that desperately needed to be given to Honey trap and Hayate to develop their relationship.

When the story DOES actually focus on Honey Trap and Hayate, it’s pretty good, even cute at times, there just wasn’t enough time given to them to flesh their relationship out. As it stands, Honey Trap and Hayate don’t have much of a dynamic, or personality for that matter. Honey Trap’s main gimmick is that she’s extremely horny for Hayate and delulu:

Aside from that, she’s a great value version of Heath, but even a watered down character is better than, like, nothing. All I really know about Hayate is that she’s nice, heroic, likes wearing tacky clothes and ….that’s it. She loves Honey Trap because…………they fought together a few times so why not🤷‍♀️ I’d say at least that’s better than Tamen De Gushi, but actually it’s not because these grown ass women don’t even kiss , all we get is a love confession and their gremlin love child and that’s supposed to be satisfying I guess.

And the worst part is that SiL has the audacity to pretend the romance was something that it clearly wasn’t:

Girl…yall were “””enemies””” for 10 panels.

Now, it’s stated they have been rivals for a while, but I guess Honey Trap forgot all of that because the moment she sees Hayate’s face, my good sis is pussy whipped for life. And that’s in spite of apparently being the evilest one out of the evil group because Honey Trap has no grudge or baggage toward Hayate. She immediately turns good with no issues and Hayate is only distrustful of Honey Trap for 1 or 2 speech bubbles and then she’s not. Anything else that happened was off screen, which means it didn’t happen. Ironically, the very next entry on this list will do a MUCH better job at an ex-villain love story, but for SiL, there’s just not much going on.

Another reading of this story is to call it a “parody” but…no, it isn’t. SiL isn’t a comedy, yes there are comedic moments that poke fun of the genre, but the rest of the story genuinely wants you to take it seriously. Except it can’t. X and her league of dimwits are boring as piss and they oscillate between Saturday morning cartoon villains and child murderers seemingly on a whim. So I can neither be endeared to them nor take them as a serious threat. Honey Trap and Hayate are there, but I lament on all the potential lost from what could’ve been an amazing relationship.

5. Yamujiburo/Kianamaiart’s Hanamusa webcomic

This one is kind of cheating, but I also don’t care let me talk about hot MILFs💀

So the final entry on this list is a webcomic series by one of my fave artist: kianamaiart! And it’s right here on tumblr so check it out!

I stumbled upon this webcomic a few weeks ago, fell in love and now I want to talk about it. This yuri pair thankfully has no blonde femme in sight and instead features two popular Pokémon characters: Jessie from Team Rocket and Delia Ketchum, Ash Ketchum’s mom. What I love about this ship and the world Kiana creates around them is that it’s a very unconventional pairing. There’s just not many romances where a single mom falls in love with an ex gang member and the best part is, Delia being a mom is a big part of her character and she doesn’t ignore Ash in favor of her new relationship with Jessie. She has time for both and doesn’t prioritize one over the other, which many ppl fail to do even irl so good on you Delia!

Now, as for the romance it self, Jessie and Delia are a unique pair. Jessie’s overconfident, brash, drama queen personality doesn’t automatically put her in the “dominant” role and Delia’s sweet, motherly personality doesn’t automatically put her in the “submissive” role. Their dynamic in the webcomic actually plays out in the reverse, Jessie is the one who gets easily flustered and Delia’s…intense, to say the least:

(But Tbf if Delia looked at me like that I’d be at her beck and call too💀)

This subversion of these tropes creates a fun dynamic for the couple and it’s super adorable to see how their energies bounce off each other in each new situation Kiana puts them in. I also love how both Jessie and Delia inspire each other to live out their dreams and they become better versions of themselves by being together.

And one last thing, I don’t have any smart commentary to go along with this, I just really like this drawing of Jessie:

no thoughts, head empty

Final Thoughts

Soooo yeah, that’s the end of my dissertation on yuri comics. I know I ended up dragging a lot of popular yuri, but it wasn’t my intention to make you guys hate any of things I talked about. These were just my thoughts as an avid yuri fan, so let me know your thoughts as well, especially if you read any of the yuri I talked about. And even though I’m super picky about the type of yuri I read, I’d still love to hear any recommendations. Who knows, it might dethrone the undefeated champ that is Beauty and the Beast Girl.

[musings-of-a-rose]

I got an idea for a soul mate type thing with Benny and a girl who works at a coffee shop, as for the soul mate part, maybe every time one person is injured the injury appears on the other person’s in the same spot but as flowers. Oh! With Benny being an MMA fighter he gets punched a lot and it affects his soul mate, so when he goes to her place to tell her about his fight, he sees her covered in flowers that are similar to the bruises on him and it turns inti the soul mate thing dawning on him and him apologizing profusely and her telling him that it wasn’t his fault . Maybe just a tad fluffy at the end

(I also really like your one shots, they’re very good. Thank you

SoulMMAtes

Pairing: Benny Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 1865

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: Sorry this took so long to get to! I've never written a soulmate au and then I wrote it but we all got sick! I hope this is what you're looking for.

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Benny Miller Masterlist

“Cappucino for Keith!” I project out at the handful of people waiting, a middle aged man coming forward, phone glued to his ear as he snaps his fingers at me, yanking the coffee from my hand and leaving without a word to me. 

“You’re welcome,” I mutter under my breath, moving to take the next order. 

I glance at the ticket and look for what I need, only to find the container empty. I sigh internally and head to the back room, my eyes scanning the shelf to locate the right syrup bottle. Which happens to be on the top shelf. I reach up to grab the bottle, my coworker, Amy, coming in behind me. 

“More flowers?” She points to where my shirt had ridden up, the bottom of a bloom of flowers just visible under the hem. I grab the syrup bottle and stand straight, lifting my shirt slightly to show her the rest. “Your soulmate is either clumsy as fuck or really loves to get beat up.”

I chuckle. “Yeah, that would be my luck.”

“Still no idea who it is?”

I shake my head. “Nope.”

“Do they hurt still?”

I shrug. “They used to. Now I guess I’m used to it.”

I remember being told about soul mates and our attachment to each other, any pain the other receives will show up on their mate’s bodies in the form of beautiful flower tattoos. They did not mention that pain often comes with it. The first time they appeared, it was my right eye. I missed class and called out of work for a few days. Supposedly, the flowers are to give you a clue as to who your mate is. How it helps, I’m not entirely sure, since I still haven’t found my soulmate yet. 

I follow Amy out of the backroom, bottle of syrup in hand, swapping it out with the old one. Some time passes, and then I hear my favorite regular’s voice placing his order. I look up just as Benny walks to my end of the counter, all blue eyes and a big smile. 

“Hey, sweetheart! Do you ever go home?”

I smile, looking away from the intensity of his gaze for a moment. “Nah. I sleep in the back on top of the bags of beans.”

Benny chuckles and my stomach flips. “Is that why your coffee tastes the best?”

Fuck. Why can’t he be my soulmate?

“I sneak hard core drugs into yours so you’ll keep coming back for more.”

A smile stretches across his face, his eyes darkening slightly. “I’ll come for you anytime.”

I can feel the heat in my cheeks, spreading across my face. I turn, trying to hide it and the smirk on my face as I busy myself with his regular order. I feel a small tug at my heart, a yearning for this man that I know I’m not matched with. I school my face and turn back, handing him his coffee. 

“Well that’s good to know. It’ll save me money. But my dealer may not be happy.”

Benny laughs, his eyes twinkling as he opens his mouth to say something. But then another blonde man walks up to him, punching him lightly in the shoulder. “You ready to go, Ben?”

Is it just me or does Benny look a little…sad? He turns towards the man and nods. “Yeah. Oh, Will. This my favorite barista in the world. This is my brother, Will.” 

He sticks his hand out and I take it briefly, noting the firm grip. “Nice to meet you, darlin’.”

“Nice to meet you too.”

Will turns to Benny, tossing a thumb over his shoulder. “We gotta go now or you’re gonna be late.” 

Benny glances at his watch. “Shit. Yeah, ok.” He looks at me, a little sadness in his eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

I feel like my heart is in a wrench. Get over yourself. He’s not even your soulmate. I plaster on a smile that I hope seems genuine. “I’ll be here!”

—----

That night was one of the worst nights in a while. I just barely make it home before the pains start, first across my ribs, then a knee, my cheek, and my eye. The pain is more intense than it has been, and I throw my bag down, kicking off my shoes just to drop my body onto my bed. Smaller flower tattoos erupt across my body for next few minutes, the pain eventually fading into the background as I curl in the fetal position, wondering what the hell my soulmate is doing. Eventually, somehow, I fall asleep.

—----

The morning sun shines through the blinds on my face and I blink awake, stretching my cramped limbs. It’s a moment before I remember why I was in this position. I drag myself into the bathroom, shedding off all my clothes and step in front of the mirror to assess the marks. There are small, lighter ones scattered around my body, mostly on my torso, with the one on my ribs bright and beautiful. Thankfully, the flowers on my face have faded, for the most part. Gently, I touch them, a tear slowly falling down my cheek, thinking about what might have happened to my soulmate. 

I reach for my phone and call my manager, explaining that I can’t come in today. They weren’t having it though, telling me that I’m closing and they’ll see me tonight. Sighing, I hang up the phone and try my best to cover up the gorgeous marks, wondering and hoping that my soulmate is ok. 

—----

The only thing that was getting me through my shift was the thought of maybe seeing Benny. The doors open and close, people coming and going, none of whom are the man I want to see. I shouldn’t want to see him, but I do. About 10 minutes from closing, the last of the customers file out, one of the men laughing loudly and punching his friend in the arm as the door closes behind them. I sigh, moving to start the closing routine, especially since I’m alone. It was so slow, I let the other employee go home early to be with her kid. The door opens as I’m about to dump the remaining coffee. I turn and am met with familiar bright blue eyes, sweaty hair plastered to his face.

“Did I make it?” Benny is trying hard to make it look like he isn’t breathing heavy.

I’m happy to see him, but also worried. “Yeah but..are you ok?”

He nods, slight pain in his eyes that he desperately tries to bury. “ ‘m good.”

There’s silence for a few moments as I watch him try to fight for his life with the breathing. “I’d make you our usual, but honestly that coffee has been sitting a while. You should probably have a decaf tea anyway.”

Benny nods. “Sounds good.”

I turn away from him, hearing him suck some air quickly through his teeth. A little sharp jab in my side reminds me that I’m nearly overdue for another round of pain killers. I head towards our tea shelf. 

“Slow night?” Benny asks.

“Yeah. It’s never busy on these nights.”

I scan the jars on the counter, naturally finding the chamomile on the highest shelf. Sighing, I stand on my tip toes, my arm outstretched to reach the box. My fingertips graze it when I hear Benny move, his shoes thudding across the floor as he comes around the counter. 

“What is that?” He asks, suddenly behind me and the closest he’s ever been. Fuck he smells so good. 

I glance back over my shoulder, tea bag in hand as I mange to turn in place. “Uh…what?”

Benny points to my back, where my shirt had ridden up while reaching for the tea. “The marks.”

My cheeks flush and I look away from him. “Oh, it’s uh…a tatt…too?” Great. That sounded convincing. 

“Show me.” It wasn’t a demand, but it didn’t feel like a request. I swallow the lump in my throat. I know that once he sees the marks, he won’t come back. Why would he waste his time when he could be finding his soul mate?

“It’s nothing, really. A dumb idea when I was younger.”

His eyes soften slightly, his eyebrows pulling together to do that stupid look that makes me go weak. “Can I see?”

We watch each other for a long moment before I nod, turning my back towards him and raising my shirt to show off the beautiful flowers that bloom across my ribs. His fingertips brush against the marks and my body tingles, shivers shooting through ever nerve in my body, my stomach feeling like it’s full of butterflies. 

“I…I am so sorry, sweetheart.”

I turn back to him as he takes a step back, my heart clenching at his movement. “Sorry for what?”

“I didn’t fucking think about…I didn’t realize…holy shit but yeah of course! Oh fuck this makes sense!” The concern is battling with a dawning realization on his face.

“Benny, what-” He grips the back of his shirt and pulls it over his head, his chest bare. 

And covered in bruises and nicks. 

My eyes widen as I see the darkest and most prominent bruise, splayed across his ribs exactly where my flower marks are. As my eyes roam across his torso, my hands touch places on my body where the marks are, each one of them identical to the bruises on Benny. 

“You?” I whisper, my eyes finally landing on his. 

He nods, a smile tugging at his lips. “Me.” He holds a hand up, palm facing me and I press my hand to his. The same feeling shoots back through me, my nerves alight, butterflies bursting from my stomach, but also a sense of coming home, being safe, warm, and loved. Benny steps closer to me, lightly gripping my ribs and pulling me close to him. With his other hand, he brushes some stray hair from my face, tipping my chin up to him as he places the softest kiss on my lips. Everything slides into place - the way I always felt drawn to him, why my body was physically reacting to him in more ways than one, why I couldn’t stop thinking about him once I’d seen him. His embrace feels exactly where I belong. 

I pull back, his eyes searching mine. 

“Are you a terrible ninja or something?”

Benny laughs, his whole body shaking with it. “Nothing cool like that. Just MMA.”

“Are you terrible or?” My eyebrow cocks up and he smirks. 

“I win every fight. I just know how to take a punch.”

“Well could you maybe take a few less from now on?”

Benny smiles. “No need, sweetheart. I’ll quit. I don’t want you in pain for my stupid mistakes.”

He presses his lips to mine again, moaning slightly into the kiss. But then he inhales sharply, hissing out. I feel the twinge in my ribs and I know he’s hurting. 

“Ok, let me clean this place up and then I’m taking care of you. Got it?”

Benny smirks, his eyes twinkling. “Yes ma’am.”

-------

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[mcu-coworkers]

Posessive?

Summary: Miguel will stop at nothing to have you at his side. And you know that but who says you can't make him struggle just a little.

word count:3.5k+

A/n: Thank you guys for loving Pt.1 to this story so much I hope this second part meets your expectations! Im thinking of making a pt.3 where the spider society meets the reader let me know what you guys think!xx

Parts: I II^ III

(Gif credits to the creator ofc!^)

Walking into your lawyers office made Miguel's blood boil.

He had already ripped up the divorce papers but he wanted to send a message before he returned them to their sender considering you ignored his thousands of calls.

“Mr.O’hara it's nice to finally meet you although clients usually communicate lawyer to law-” he was quickly cut off by the loud sound of the shredded paper being tossed onto his desk.

“ I   thought this would be quicker for the both of us,​​ Tell your client that her HUSBAND said no. And that  I‘ll be seeing her very soon. Thanks.” Miguel said, having that last bit dripping with sarcasm.

“Should  I   be concerned for my clients' well-being Mr.O’hara?” your lawyer said standing up.

Turning to face him once more Miguel snickered, “On the contrary Mr.?” he said looking for a name tag.

“Murdock. It's on the building Nelson and Murdock.” he said, smiling back at him.

“Big man, Congratulations. My wife is safe with me, just let her know I'll be seeing her soon, have a nice day Murdock.” With a nod from your lawyer he took it as his time to leave but not without whispering some insults in spanish under his breath.

Who did he think he was questioning your safety around Miguel? You were the safest at his side and his side only.

And no one was taking that from him, not even you.

Quickly after he left your Lawyer wasted no time in contacting you.

Two rings passed before you picked up.

To tell the truth your heart was pounding. It felt so soon for him to have already turned in the papers.

“Hello?” you didn't mean to sound as quiet and defeated as you did but who were you trying to fool this had been and was going to be a very tough moment in your life.

“Mrs.O’Hara how are you?” he answered calmly.

Confused by the surname you stopped walking in the middle of the busy airport.

“I'm fine, did you receive the papers?” you asked eager to find out exactly what happened.

“Yes,  I   did but they're not signed or intact for that matter. It seems like he gave them to a cat to have as a toy."He said holding up the paper realizing what he thought were rips were actually done by claws, strange.

“Ay Miguel.” You said, you knew he never took any news well but you never thought he’d pull something like this.

“He also left a message for you.” he said, setting the paper aside.

“And that was?” you said curious as to what he could possibly have to say.

“Tell your client that her husband said no, and that he will be seeing you very soon, he put a big emphasis on the word husband.” he said pausing.

Waiting for a response from you he added on, “Ms. O’Hara if i'm being honest here this doesn't sound like a man who wanted a divorce.” he said reconsidering the course of the situation.

“At this point I'm not really sure what he wants anymore,  I   don't think  I   ever actually knew to begin with.” you said, beginning to question your judgment.

“Well if you’d like to continue with the one sided divorce process we can do that otherwise  I   think you should speak to Mr.O’Hara and sort things out.” He said.

Now you had a lot to think about, A shiver went up your spine as you realized exactly what was happening.

“Y/n? Is everything okay? Do you need help?” Your lawyer asked on the other side. He always knew a little more than he was led to believe which meant he had to be cautious with how much he involved himself.

“Oh yeah, yes  I   am fine just considering my options, can  I get back to you on that?” You asked quickly beginning to exit the airport.

“Yes, of course whatever you need, give me a call.” he said, he could hear your breath picking up and your heart beat gaining speed.

“Thank you, Mr. Murdock.” and with that you hung up the phone and found your driver.

If there was one thing Miguel didn't like it was not having you by his side and to make matters worse not knowing where you were.

You didn't doubt for a second Miguel had already found you; it was just a matter of time before he got to you.

Angry would be the understatement of the year.

Taking a deep breath you tried to relax remembering why you were in this situation in the first place.

It was his fault you left, and if he wanted to bring you back then he’d have to travel across the world and do it face to face.

After all, you did book a flight to Barcelona thinking it would be far enough to not ever be able to go back to him no matter how strong the urge.

Your phone rang again, thinking it was your lawyer, you answered.

“Was there something you forgot to mention earlier?” you asked, trying to sound as calm as possible.

“Hiring a man as your lawyer, you always know where to hit me so it hurts mi amor.” chills ran down your spine at the sound of that raspy voice.

“Miguel, what do you want?” you said trying to put up a front.

“You. Back in our house, at my side.” he said with a demanding tone.

The audacity of this man, you'd been distraught and in tears practically the entire journey here but now? All you felt was anger.

“No.” was all you said, the front was gone, these were your genuine emotions now.

“No? Como que no? You're mine, don't you forget that.” he said, beginning to raise his voice.

“  I   didn't forget that, you did Miguel so it's either you start remembering or  I   start forgetting too. Ya no voy a estar de gata a tus pies. I'm worth more than that.” you said trying to hold back the shakiness in your voice.

It was helpless because he already heard it.

“Mi amor,  I   never thought that of you please, come home and let's talk. I'm begging you don't do this to us.  I   need you.” He said hoping he could sway you in his direction.

“This is the longest you've spoken to me in over a month Miguel, you realize that right? And all for what, because  I  disobeyed you?” you asked, hoping he'd deny it but all you got was silence.

Chuckling you smiled, at least that part of him never changed.

“Baby, plea-” he tried.

“No, Sign the papers or I'm moving in a different direction Miguel.  I   let my love for you stand in the way for too long and you don't even have the decency to tell me you don't love me anymore. I'm done.” you said as he began to speak over you trying to stop you.

No one had ever tested Miguel's patience this much.

You not letting him get a sentence out was only bringing him closer to the edge.

“Y/n  I   swear if you make me-” dead tone. You hung up.

“HIJO DE PUTA!” he said as he punched the back of the passenger seat in front of him.

“Everything alright sir?” his driver asked mostly only concerned for his own safety.

No one liked seeing Miguel upset ten times out of nine everyone else ended up in whatever mood he was in.

“Yes, Just get me to the jet please.” he said, rubbing his temples gently.

Miguel fell in love with your sense of leadership when he had first met you, god was he paying for it now.

He tried to calm himself before boarding the plane. He needed to think of what he could say to get you back at his side.

He knew he needed to change, it's his best bet at making you remember just how much he loves you.

Just as the plane was taking off his gizmo showed a hologram of Jess.

“So, did you get your girl back?” She asked with a slight smirk on her face.

Miguel froze, he kept his business out of the spider society just in case anyone ever turned on them.

Keeping you safe was his number one priority.

“Lyla spilled Miguel, she's worried about you and says she's never seen you this bad before.” she said with a slight tone of concern. She knew better than to show Miguel she was worried, he would just push her away and tell her he was fine.

“Everything will be fine, I'll be gone two days tops think you can handle that?” he asked with a small smile on his face.

He knew Jess could do more than handle it; he just needed a distraction from the chaos he’d brought to his marriage.

“Yeah well when you bring her back, and you will,  I  ‘d like to meet the person who tolerates your broodiness, hell  i  ‘ll probably ask for some tips while i'm at it.” she said, making him chuckle.

No one could do what you did for him.

“Keep me updated on the canon events and keep Hobie out of my office.” he said remembering the last time he snuck in.

“You got it boss, don't forget we're all rooting for you.” she said before hanging up.

We? Who's we? He was gonna have a long talk with Lyla about confidentiality when he got back.

------

It has now been just about two days since you last spoke to Miguel and since then you’ve received one flower arrangement every hour with a message from Miguel and your bill at every place you visited covered by, you guessed it, Miguel.

And still you had to be graced by the presence of the man himself.

Barcelona was your chance to really find out if the grass was greener on the other side and that meant no giving in to Miguel's romantic gestures.

It was hard when every single flower warmed your heart just a little more every time.

It reminded you of when he’d cut flowers from random gardens on his way to your house.

They were never this fancy or even wrapped in paper for that matter, but you loved them more than anything else because he gave them to you out of love.

He gave these to you seeking forgiveness, something he wouldn't be doing if you hadn't been pushed over the edge.

Sighing, you set them aside with the rest of the arrangements and decided to go for a coffee.

Finding a little shop you sat on the patio after ordering your Latte with a croissant to accompany it.

Basking in the sun your mind couldn't help but wonder where he was, if he was already watching you from a distance waiting to catch you off guard.

You weren't too far off.

He was watching you, from a safe distance just to make sure you were safe, and that no other man was coming near you but mostly to make sure you were safe.

He thought that if he gave you space it’d make you miss him.

The flowers and paying for you were just in case you did miss him. Or at least that's what he made them out to be.

Miguel was trying his best to not let his possessive ways take over him and just carry you on the plane and take you home but he oh so wanted this to be over already.

But he too decided to turn a new leaf in Barcelona, one that would promise to never let you forget just how much he loved you, no matter how shitty of a day he had at work.

Miguel was brought out of his thoughts when he saw you leaving the cafe not because you were leaving but because some man was following you.

His body tensed as the man tapped on your shoulder and handed you something.

Before he knew it he was walking towards you and pulling you into him by the waist.

“¿Ya terminaste amor?( you finished here love?)” he said, smiling down at you before turning to look at the idiot who touched you.

Who did he think he was touching you when you belonged to Miguel?

Smiling a thank you to the stranger you met mere minutes ago you begin walking without answering Miguel's question.

“Who the hell was that guy?” he said following you down the street.

“ I   have no idea Miguel, what  I   do know is that you've been watching me for the past two days.” you said trying to hide your smirk.

Miguel stopped, you had outsmarted him.

“Only because you won't speak to me.” he said trying to hide the smile on his face.

He was a proud husband but now was not the time.

“Sucks doesn't it? Being ignored by your spouse when you just wanted to give them all your love.” you said opening the door to your new home.

“Y/n mi amor  I   get it, I'm an asshole and  I deserve whatever it is you throw my way but please come home and you can throw it at me there.” he said trying to get close to you but all it did was make you take a step back.

“Baby please, just come here.” he said as he took another step towards you.

He was quick but you were quicker getting out of the way.

“No Miguel, you treated me like some toy that you used when you were bored. And when you got tired of me you tossed me to the side and pretended that  I   wasn't there. Do you know how it feels to be treated like an item? A disposable item?” you asked your voice barely above a whisper but that didn't stop you.

“For the last ten years of our relationship there wasn't one day that you didn't tell me you loved me. Even when we were fighting. Tell me Miguel, when was the last time you told me you loved me? As a matter of fact, When was the last time we even slept in the same bed? You can't tell me can you?” you asked, waiting for a response from him but all you got was silence.

Your words finally began to actually sink in to Miguel and for once he didn't know what to do.

Balancing the literal multiverse on his shoulders distracted him so much he hadn't realized the damage he was doing to your marriage.

But you’d had more than enough time to realize what it did to you.

Shaking your head you looked away as tears brimmed your eyes.

You wanted so badly to be strong for yourself but seeing the end to what you thought was your forever was making it really difficult.

“Fuck.” was all Miguel could muster up at the moment, he needed to find a way to fix this.

Letting out a shaky breath, “Y/n,  I   know that  I  ‘ve changed but there's just been so much pressure on me to fix things and they really need me right now, this is the only way  I   can keep everyone safe, keep you safe.” he said hoping you’d understand.

Nodding you looked out the window and admired the view.

“ I   understand, the multiverse is important to you. But  I   can't sit around waiting for the day you decide to consider me too. And  I   know that sounds selfish but  I   can't help it. I'm jealous of Miguel. Jealous of the people who see you more than  I   do. Jealous of the office you spend time in. Jealous of the Lyla.” you actually had to laugh after that.

“ I   sound crazy, Jealous of a damn AI all because it gets your attention more than me.” you said tears finally falling.

“Well guess what Miguel,  I   won't do it anymore,  I   hate this feeling.  I   understand protecting the multiverse is important so go, go be a hero it's who you are and it's amazing.  I   could never stand in the way of that no matter how much it’d hurt me.” you said leaning back on the kitchen counter.

You’d hoped that’d be enough to get him to go.

In a second Miguel had his arms around you and his head buried in your shoulder.

Wrapping your arms around his neck you realized he was crying.

“Miguel?” you asked gently, slightly confused by the reaction.

“I'm so sorry baby please,  I   need you. Without you I'm just the shell of the man   I   should be.   I   can't live a life without you, it's pointless. Just please come home and we can fix this together.  I  ‘ll do whatever you want.  I  ‘ll get on my knees and beg if that's what it takes.” he said as he began to get down on his knees.

“Miguel no-” you whispered as you tried pulling him back up.

“Then what baby you tell me and  I  ‘ll do it please tell me how to fix this. ¡Estoy loco por ti y lo sabes!( I'm crazy for you and you know it!)” he yelled, he was mere seconds away from a panic attack his breathes were shortening quickly and you noticed it.

“Miguel? Baby slow down, you need to breathe.” you said lowering yourself to meet his face.

“ I   can’t-  I   can-” he said as he tried regaining his breath.

He hadn't had one of these since he became spiderman so an inhaler was not an option. So you did the next best thing, you kissed him.

Deeply, passionate to make sure he slowed down his breathing completely.

Slowly it began to work so you pulled away to allow him to catch his breath.

Analyzing his face you’d only hoped it worked, “Better?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Not yet.” he said as he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you back in for another kiss this time much deeper.

Miguel began kissing you like a man who’d been starved as he pulled you closer wrapping your legs around his waist in the process.

And just like that you were lost in him all over again.

Whatever speech you gave yourself about the grass being greener was gone in the wind.

Quickly Miguel began undressing you while you pulled his clothes off in return.

“No sabes cuanto te e necesitado mi amor. (you don't know how much i've needed you my love.)” he said as left a trail of kisses down your neck.

“Callate y hazme el amor Miguel.(shut up and make love to me.”you said breathlessly as he flipped you over on the kitchen floor placing his tip at your entrance.

Slipping into you slowly he clenched his jaw at the feeling of your tightness around him. Oh how he missed this feeling.

Gasping you tried to adjust to his size again , no matter how many times you’d had sex in the past it's like this man got bigger and bigger every time.

Hearing your soft moans encouraged Miguel to keep going until he was fully buried in you, “dios mio.” was all he could manage to say as he rested his head in the crook of your neck.

“Miguel-” you moaned, signaling him to move.

“ I   know baby  I   know.” he said as he pulled himself out completely before thrusting back in and finding his pace making you arch your back in the process.

Slowly he began building up his speed until all he could hear was the beautiful sound of your voice moaning his name endlessly.

This was his heaven.

Watching you as your face contorted in full euphoria at the pleasure he was giving you.

Taking your hand in his he gave it a squeeze that you returned as you used your other hand to pull him in for a breathless kiss.

“Miguel ya” you said, getting closer to your climax.

“Wait for me mami i'm almost there.” he said as he sped up making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

This man would be the end of you.

By this point you were a moaning mess holding on to the last strands of sanity you had left waiting for Miguel.

Once you felt Miguel twitch inside of you it was clear he was close, you pulled him close and began kissing your way up to his ear.

“Miguel baby, I need you hazme tuya mi amor.” you moaned, and with that you felt his fangs dig into your shoulder as he filled you with his seed allowing you to cum with him.

You could've passed out from the immense amount of pleasure  you were feeling, or the reaction to his spider venom,  but missing a moment of this was not an option.

After Miguel recovered he realized what he’d done, “Shit, I'm sorry  I   didn’t think-” he said, beginning to slightly panic.

He’d always been able to control himself in bed.

Smiling, you pulled him in for another kiss, “It’s okay,  I   liked it.” you said earning yourself a look of surprise from him.

Laying his head back down on your chest you sighed in content.

“Eres la luz de mi vida, el sol para mi luna. (you are the light of my life, the sun to my moon.)” he said smiling.

Laughing you massaged the back of his neck as you ran your hands through his hair.

“ The light of your life would like to get off this hard floor.” you said as you wiggled to ease the soreness of your back.

Miguel wasted no time in picking you up and taking you to the bedroom.

“ This looks like a much more suitable place to spend the week.” he said, laying you down gently.

“Week? Isn't there a canon event that needs your rescuing?” you asked, to tell the truth your heart was overjoyed at the thought of him staying here with you.

“You, you're my cannon event and it's gonna take all of me to rescue you.” he said as he kissed your forehead.

“My hero.” you said as you laid your head on his chest admiring his relaxed features.

“Te amo mi cielo.” he whispered.

“Y yo a ti cariño.” you said, closing your eyes as you fell asleep alongside the love of your life.

The road to forever looked a lot brighter now

tagslist: @cooch1ecruncher​    @hoseokslefteyebrow​  @marcswife21 @whatdudtheysay​  @foxglove-spidey​  @smyfmj​  @mushy-mushroom04​   @flooftoof  @aepinkoutsold @scoliobean @elliaze

[ohburgee]

Hi can I request?

I want to request 1x1x1x1 with sister!Reader? (Platonic of course). She was created out of love and obsession (if 1x1x1x1 hates Shedletsky then she loves and obsesses over Shedletsky who represents her and her brother). Her personality is the opposite of 1x1x1x1, cheerful and energetic but no less scary when it comes to Shedletsky (her love and obsession for Shedletsky is completely platonic). 1x1x1x1 is said to dislike his sister because of her obsession for Shedletsky but he still cares for her.

I partly based Reader's personality off Candy Apple Cookie of the Cookie Run Kindom fandom :) (Sorry if this is a bit long :<)

Oooh siblings, while I was reading your request I think of 1x1x1x1 as a big brother who is annoyed with his sister, he hates her but still cares for her. Sorry for this simple story this is what my mind can think :< Anyways thank you for you requests :]

You and 1x1x1x1 stand behind the wall, watching the survivors. It’s peaceful, no killing, no chaos, just calm.

You love moments like these. No one is afraid or panicked, and your favorite part is that you get to see Shedletsky, even if only for now.

Happiness fills you when you spot your creator, your so-called father figure, but then you notice the serious expression on your brother’s face. 1x1x1x1 stares at Shedletsky with nothing but hatred. You can’t change that. It’s just how he is.

When Shedletsky turns to face you both, his eyes first meet 1x1x1x1’s, and fear flickers across his face. He can see the hatred in your brother’s gaze. But when he looks at you, he’s met with your cheerful smile, your eyes filled with warmth.

He looks confused at first, but then understanding washes over him. You are different from 1x, and he’s grateful that he created an opposite to him.

Elliot offers pizza to everyone, and Shedletsky takes three slices, one for himself and two for you and your brother. As he approaches, he extends the pizzas toward you both.

You eagerly take yours, smiling at him. But when he turns to 1x, your brother remains unmoved, his expression still serious, maybe even a little angry.

You nudge 1x’s shoulder, grinning. He looks at you, annoyed and confused. With a groan of frustration, he finally takes the pizza.

You smile at him, and Shedletsky's eyes widen. His fear fades, just a little. For once, 1x accepted something from him. For once, there was no outright rejection.

1x hates everything, his creator, Shedletsky, included. But there’s one thing he doesn’t hate: you.

He resents you for being the way you are, but he still cares for you. He acts like he hates you, but deep down, he doesn’t. You are his sister.

Even when you stand against him, even when you ruin his plans, even when he’s furious with you, he still cares.

Because no matter how different you are, you are still his sister.

n: sorry again for lack of posting, I was taking a rest after my final and get my mind some sleep, hope you darlings understand <3

[tamayula-hl]

Recently, I’ve been feeling a strong urge to write fanfiction, but as a Japanese person, I can’t help but feel the immense barriers of language and cultural differences standing in my way.

I’ve always loved writing fanfiction and have more experience as a writer than as an artist. But I don’t know any English at all. The Japanese short story collection about Seb and Omi that I posted on AO3 over a year ago still has zero bookmarks (which isn’t surprising 😂). In other words, as someone who can only write in Japanese, my value as a writer in this fandom is practically zero. I have so many stories I want to tell, but since I can’t speak English, I can’t even stand at the starting line 🤣🤣🤣. Even if I started studying English intensively now, it would probably take years before I could write stories in English on my own 🤣.

On top of that, I only have a Japanese perspective shaped by Japanese values and ways of thinking. For someone like me, it’s impossible to depict Western characters’ personalities, thoughts, and actions without them feeling off. The more I read fanfiction written by Western authors in this fandom, the more I realize how significantly values and ways of thinking differ between Japan and the West. I notice these differences so often that I’m genuinely shocked. With art or comics, I can at least visually mask these cultural discrepancies to some extent, but with novels, where detailed psychological descriptions are key, there’s no way to gloss over these differences.

Foolishly, I’ve been thinking about translating my stories using ChatGPT, just as I do with comic dialogues. But even with AI tools, translation takes an enormous amount of time. And more importantly, translating between Japanese and English is incredibly difficult—no matter how advanced modern tools like DeepL or ChatGPT are, they can’t produce truly accurate translations. This fandom is already filled with amazing, beautifully written stories in natural English. So who would ever want to read a poorly translated story in unnatural English produced by tools like ChatGPT or DeepL? 🤣🤣🤣

With art or comics, I know that I can improve with practice. But when it comes to mastering English and capturing the nuances of cultural values, no matter how hard I try, I will always fall short compared to Western creators. I recently became painfully aware of this reality, and now I feel so sad and empty. Even so, I can’t suppress this foolish urge to write stories. Someone, please give me the final push to give up on writing fiction 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣.

(I couldn’t find the right term, so I used the word “Western” in this text. But I do understand that there are many people in the West who aren’t fluent in English, and that cultural values differ greatly from country to country.) (And to all the non-native English writers who work hard and create amazing stories, I have the utmost respect for you.)

[simplysamiblog]

The weight of a perfect goodbye

Before I even begin sharing my thoughts, I need to make one very important thing clear: I am a firm believer in the theory that Jayce and Viktor survived the ending of Arcane. As far as I’m concerned, they were teleported through time and space and are now slowly, painstakingly rebuilding their lives. Together, of course.

I’ve read dozens of (amazing) fanfics where this is exactly how their story unfolds, and some are so well-written that I honestly consider them canon.

That said.

I’ve seen several discussions online about this very topic:

"The creators confirmed it: they’re dead."

"The creators don’t know anything, they’re alive."

"Accept it, they were disintegrated by the Rune."

And so on.

But here’s what I think (not that it matters to anyone or carries any weight at all):

We can’t completely dismiss or outright reject the idea that, yes, Jayce and Viktor are, unfortunately, dead. At some level, we need to accept it—to believe it.

But let me explain why.

Not out of respect for the creators, the canon, the fandom, or anything like that. But out of love for the story, for the essence of their narrative.

At the risk of sounding cliché, do you really think Arcane would have been just as special if Jayce and Viktor had survived? Can you picture the scene? The protagonists recover, the fog of war and chaos clears, and there they are—Jayce and Viktor—standing atop the Hexgates, smiling. Ah, what a happy ending. What a good ending.

Sure. Nice. Nothing more.

Or imagine if we had gotten something like: "And they remained like brothers forever." Ugh.

It’s cruel, it’s unfair, it’s heartbreaking—

But it’s perfect.

The chain of events (cough) that led to that moment, the sacrifice that sealed their fate—

The relationship between Jayce and Viktor would never have been as impactful otherwise. Personally, I don’t think I fully grasped the depth of their bond until their foreheads rested against each other. In that moment of resignation, of acceptance.

Their story, their magic, was beautiful precisely because it ended right then, in that instant.

Jayce asked Viktor, "Why did you ever give me this?"

He could have let him die in the storm. Or, if he wanted to be more merciful, he could have simply saved him without giving him the Rune—

The world would have been safe. The world would have been saved.

But…

The world wasn’t as important as the moments they shared. Their friendship, their collaboration, their bond.

Viktor couldn’t deny another Viktor those moments. That brief but immense joy. Those years in which he had truly lived.

They were stronger than everything—stronger than everyone—

Even stronger than death.

And that’s why, in a way, their death is precisely what makes them so wonderful.

Call it cliché or a bit of a stretch, but the first comparison that comes to mind is Romeo and Juliet. Would it really be the most famous love story if they hadn’t met their tragic end?

"Happily ever after."

Or—

"Never was a story of more woe than this of Juliet and her Romeo."

Sure, they might have survived, somewhere. And it’s absolutely valid to believe that.

But if not for that ending, for that terrible, heartbreaking moment, how much would we have missed out on? How many incredible fanfictions wouldn’t exist? How many fanarts, how many works of art would we have been unknowingly deprived of?

We’ll never know, and I don’t want to know.

Because what we have is amazing.

So yes, I accept the idea that they’re dead—because it makes the fantasy that they’re alive and in love so much sweeter.

But most of all, it makes their relationship a game of fate, something they built around each other. A perfect circle, an inseparable chain binding them as one.

Pulling them together, pushing them apart—only to bring them back to each other again.

Over and over.

Forever.

[sepublic]

On the one hand I want to let Knights of Guinevere stand as its own thing from The Owl House but on the other hand it’s really tempting to analyze the recurring themes in a creator’s works.

With TOH there was this idea of Expectations VS Reality, how Luz has these conventional fairy tale fantasies in mind, only to face a more grisly reality that is still beautiful in its own right. With KoG, I suspect that the princess is some biomechanical animatronic whose programming is conflicting with her actual perception of the world around her. She has the classic fairy tale animal sidekicks and is in a Sleeping Beauty position.

For Luz, this was more a matter of genre expectations. But for this princess character, her expectations seem to be taken to a pretty literal extent in that it’s become visual filter-style hallucinations, which fits with KoG being described as a psychological thriller.

I find this fascinating because it seems Dana is exploring this original theme but through a different angle this time. She had her go with an overeager kid who needed to mature, and now she’s doing it with a character who literally can’t distinguish between her mind and reality. Unsurprisingly, the kid goes with the kids show, and the adult goes with the adult show.

There’s also a much more visceral darkness to KoG’s reality compared to TOH’s, because the Demon Realm ended up having a grotesque wonder of its own that a weirdo like Luz learns to resonate with. Whereas with KoG, it’s leaning much more into how objectively horrible this situation is.

I also think it’s worth noting the setup of Park Planet and how Dana’s cynicism towards Disney during her experience working on TOH might influence KoG. Something I found interesting about the pitch bible for TOH is that it came across as notably harsher towards Luz’s fantasy book, the Unassuming Princess. In addition to the bible discussing how Luz needs to let go of “generic fantasies” there’s the revelation that the Unassuming Princess is written by Eda’s terrible ex, who is exploiting her life for his gain, and so clearly there’s a call for cancellation.

But in the final draft of TOH, the narrative avoids this Contempt for the Genre attitude; At worst Azura can be kind of corny and straightforward, and its prose overtly theatrical, but that’s really about it. It’s not always conducive as a guideline for Luz’s life but in the end there’s no shame in its existence; In fact, the final draft goes out of its way to make Azura foundational to Luz’s arc, and something she can and deserves to still keep! The final stretch of the series even ties it into Dana’s own loving relationship with her deceased father, and in the end Azura inspires Luz and is the bookends to her arc. It ends up being a story about stories.

I wonder if this was perhaps the result of executive mandate; But then again, Disney doesn’t struggle to dunk on its own classics (think Frozen or Zootopia), and there’s a difference between wanting the attitude towards the fairy tale to be more supportive, and actively making it a core part of the main character’s arc. It makes me think of how Disney did mandate more of a focus on Hexside, but at the same time it was always part of the pitch bible. And the writers even stuck to it in S3 because of what they’d already accomplished in making it work for their narrative anyhow.

But I digress; My point is that Dana’s exploring a theme she had with TOH but from a new, darker angle. And so it makes me think she’ll do that harsher attitude towards the fairy tale after all; In this case, not out of contempt for the genre but more contempt for the corporation and its sanitization, a reflection of how Disney limited Dana’s creative freedom with TOH. Really, KoG comes across as Dana getting to do things she never could’ve, because of her own choices regarding the narrative, the genre expectations, and/or Disney’s mandates. So it’d be poetic.

[sapphire-writes]

The Campaign ~ Finale Sneak Peek

preview of The Campaign's final part

MDNI / 18+ / NSFW

a/n: hello my loves and happy valentine's day you filthy sluts 😼 I can't offer a full fic on this day of love and smut but I can give you a little something something from my faves. I can't promise when this will be out in full; life's been very busy (in a good way!). thank you for sticking around and I hope you enjoy 💞 wishing you all nothing but love!

update: OUT NOW READ HERE

💋 Jo

Aemond’s hand is held out before him, Jace’s necklace dangling from his slender fingers. The diamond J catches the light, sparkling. Your mouth goes dry, cheeks warming at the sight. Eyes lifting to meet his, you can’t find the words to speak.

“I’m sorry,” he starts, “Look….I never…this wasn’t…” Aemond takes a deep breath, steadying himself, “I’m not good at this.”

The J swings from the chain, a pendulum on a string. You can't stop staring at it, watching as it taunts you.

“I knew it,” you whisper, hand reaching up to your throat.

“It was just a game,” he insists, “Until it wasn’t.” Your eyes lift from the necklace, meeting his. “That night on the beach….” He lowers his arm. The pendulum swings. “Look if you don’t feel the same–”

Your stomach turns, the corners of your lips dipping into a frown.

“Go,” you breathe, barely audible.

Aemond tilts his head to the side and murmurs your name. Your eyes squeeze shut, chest tightening painfully as he does.

“I want you out.”

“What can I do?” he begs, “Please.”

“Go grovel to someone who cares,” you snap, eyes opening, a fresh wave of anger barrelling through you, “Storm’s End, perhaps? Seems like you have some making up to do with Floris.”

“I don’t fucking want Floris!” he snaps, “I want you.”

You freeze, breath-catching. 

“You don't want her?” you ask and he shakes his head, “Did you fuck her?”

Aemond’s eye widens, a fraction of an inch but it's noticeable. A bitter laugh leaves your lips.

“It was before we–”

“You men are all the same,” you seethe, glaring at him, “Pretty words and no action. Of course you fucked her.”

“Y/N, it was before us, before we ever–look I haven’t so much as touched her since we–”

“Well then here’s your chance!” you interrupt, “Go make up for lost time; I’m sure she’s a wreck. Wallowing on her yacht just waiting for you to jump her bones.”

Aemond flinches as though you’d slapped him. “Stop it.”

“You’re so talented with that tongue, useless apologies included. It’d be a shame to let it go to waste–”

“Seven hells enough!”

His yell silences you. You stand before each other, chests heaving with anger. You can't stand him. You hate him. And though the voice in your head disagrees, you ignore it, setting your wine glass down on the counter.

“You want forgiveness?” you ask, cocking a brow at him, “Get on your knees.”

catch up with The Campaign here!

link to other stories by me!

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as always likes, comments, and reblogs are encouraged and greatly appreciated by me and my fellow writers, artists, and creators here on Tumblr, but never required!

thank you ✨

[milkteasweetheart]

『just like heaven, chapter 1, part 2』

this part contains riddle’s dream sequence. 

housewardens x reader

author’s note: i depict nrc as an actual college, so first years are 18, second years 19, etc.

summary: crowley has the bright idea of a bonding experience, specifically in the form of a dream potion.

characters: (riddle rosehearts), leona kingscholar, azul ashengrotto, jamil viper, vil schoenheit, idia shroud, malleus draconia / platonic mentions: dire crowley (ew), grim

genre: romance, fluff, smidge of angst

warnings: female reader, reader is yuu, reader is around ace and deuce’s height, sappy, marriage, mentions of potential children, some suggestive themes

「dream scene: rose colored reverie」

This Riddle looked strange. Well not really, he was just wearing a cutesy outfit with a red, fluffy cardigan and black corduroy pants. On top of it was a frilly apron. Was he taller?

The Dream Riddle took off Dream (Y/N)’s coat and hat with another chaste kiss, and the two  moved into the living room. Everything was a bit blurry except for her face. Huh. “Have you eaten, my love? I know you work too hard without taking breaks.” Dream (Y/N) caressed Riddle’s cheek. Azul was subtly rubbing his hands together like a cartoon villain, raising concern within everyone.

Idia is about to draw blood from the way he’s biting his cheek, trying to prevent laughter. Normie loser! How corny can a person’s dreams get?

「Idia: At least have a cool dream! LMFAO」 (He will admit this version of the prefect looks nice, but she always does- who said that.)

Dream Riddle nods. “I’m ready to go if you are. Where are we going this late, though?” He tilts his head. (Y/N) chuckles with a clearly enamoured expression. “It’s a surprise. I know you’ll like it.” And with a kiss on the tip of his nose, the scene changes with a disorienting distortion.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆☾⋆⭒˚｡⋆

They’re now standing on the outside of a cafe. Riddle considers curling up into a ball. There has to be a reason his beloved hedgehogs do it. The hedgehogs… that he and the prefect take care of…

Jamil feels pity for Riddle who is currently making a quiet impression of a red balloon being emptied of air. Thankfully his own dream won’t be as bad… at least he thinks so.

The cafe is beautiful, too perfect with checkered floors, lacy curtains and velvet couches. Dream (Y/N) is currently feeding Riddle a forkful of the most delectable looking strawberry tart with an adoring expression. The strawberries are so red and shining it hurts her eyes. She considers addressing this, but decides to have pity on Riddle who has gone through with sitting on the floor and hiding his head. Leona does the opposite.

“Hah. Feels like my teeth are going to rot in my mouth at this rate.” Leona is trying to goad Riddle into digging his grave deeper. Might as well make the most of this dumb experience, right? He is totally not trying to distract himself from the looming threat of his dream being revealed, which is coincidentally in the same genre. Riddle shakes with embarrassment. (Y/N) notes Malleus staring at her dream counterpart from his position before the cash register.

“Ah, I think it’s quite amusing- adorable. Dreams often reflect what their creator wants, and can’t get.” For a merfolk Azul is cattier than Leona. Vil is a bit too smug too. At least his dreams are sophisticated.

Idia notices Jamil and Malleus aren’t exactly invested in this story. Well, nothing interesting is currently happening, but he must push his introvertedness in the corner to save his life.

Jamil’s a bit scary, but won’t smite him out of existence like Malleus could. “Hey…” Idia flinches a bit when he turns to look at him. “Hm?” No backing down now, Idia. “This is like, super cringe right? This is probably the worst we’ll see, but the others one are gonna be boring as hell, right? Maybe we should figure out a way to get out?” Jamil thinks about it, and crushes Idia’s hope into dust. “I need a break from Scarabia anyway. I don’t mind it here.” He also has to see Azul’s inevitable doom.

「Idia: Just say you want me dead…」

[theconstantsidekick]

Avengers: Age Of Ultron ft. Static (4) | s.r

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader, Tony Stark x Stark!Reader (siblings)

Genre: Lots of angst with some little fluff

Summary: Tony Stark's brilliant plan to save the world has given birth to the Terminator. What does Y/n Stark have to save about that?

(These scenes incorporate y/n, yet to be codenamed—Static, into the pre-existing story as a character without making drastic changes to the plot or mythos. All the major plot points from the MCU remain in place with the addition of the reader as Static, who is not only a Stark but also enhanced. Whatever events from the canon aren’t mentioned, take place without much change.)

Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of Violence, Some Actual Violence, but nothing too bloody

a/n: i'm hungry for love and attention. please comment below and let me know what you think.

Avengers : Age of Ultron ft. Static (3) | Series Masterlist | The Avengers (ft. Static) | Captain America: The Winter Soldier (ft. Static) | Static Verse Masterlist

Here’s the thing—and yeah, it’s going to sound a little crazy, but here’s the thing—she should have seen this coming a mile away. She really should have. If she looks at it long enough, objectively and long enough, she realises, she really should have seen this coming because anyone with half a mind should have been able to. She definitely should have been able to.

And she should have stopped it before it happened. 

Because now, her brother—the resident mad scientist—Tony Stark has gone full Frankenstein, built himself a murderbot, and, surprise surprise, it immediately decided patricide wasn’t enough. Nope, this one’s aiming to wipe out the Avengers first, then move on to the whole damn planet. Talk about an overachiever.

Like creator, like creation, she thinks to herself.

So, yeah, she should have stopped it before it happened.

Y/n stands near the back of the lab, arms crossed, shoulders tense. The room is bright, bathed in the glow of screens and flickering projections, but the energy inside is electric—tight with frustration, dread, and something else she can’t quite name yet.

Her eyes are stuck on one single person in the room. 

Tony.

And Tony is standing over a table that lays bare the carcass of his creation.

“All our work is gone,” Bruce lets them all know, shaking his head.“Ultron cleared out. Used the internet as an escape hatch.” He hovers over the console, eyes flicking across the empty data streams, lips pressed into a thin, grim line. His hands twitch like he wants to reach out, do something, fix something, but there’s nothing left to fix. 

Steve stands rigid, one hand on his hip, the other resting atop the table which he leans against. “Ultron.” He shakes his head, like he cannot believe the stupidity of the situation, like he’s admonishing a child. And fuck if she doesn’t agree with him.

Natasha, standing near one of the workstations, tilts her head slightly, her expression unreadable. “He’s been in everything,” she says, sharp but calm. “Files, surveillance. Probably knows more about us than we know about each other.”

Now, that’s a comforting thought.

However, she has to give herself some credit. Her own blinding panic doesn’t stop her from noticing Natasha’s eyes fly up to meet Clint, who seems… she can’t place it, but he seems jarred by this. 

Interesting.

She watches Rhodes pace a few steps, left hand gripping and massaging his right shoulder. “He’s in your files, he’s in the internet. What if he decides to access something a little more exciting?”

Maria Hill doesn’t even blink, but her motion halts where she sits. She stops plucking out the shards of glass from her foot. She already knows what he means. “Nuclear codes.” 

Rhodey nods, his voice heavier now. “Nuclear codes.” He looks around the room, and his voice is softer when he says, “Look, we need to make some calls… assuming we still can.”

Natasha tilts her head, considering. “Nukes?” There’s something skeptical in her voice. “He said he wanted us dead—”

Steve cuts her off. “He didn’t say ‘dead’. He said ‘extinct’.”

Y/n clenches her jaw, a cold weight settling in her stomach. The words sit there, in the middle of the lab, suffocating.

Clint exhales through his nose, taking a few steps forward. “He also said he killed somebody.”

Sam finally chimes in, “But there wasn’t anyone else in the building.”

Tony, with slow, measured steps, walks over to the centre of the room, “Yes, there was.” For demonstration purposes, he brings up the now broken remnants of J.A.R.V.I.S. for all to see. The AI’s consciousness, once fluid and full of personality, now sits in front of them, in shattered fragments.

The hologram keeps glitching as Bruce walks over to assess the damage. “What?” Bruce remarks almost to himself, in utter disbelief. And he looks over at Tony, “This is insane.”

“J.A.R.V.I.S. was the first line of defense,” Steve states, arms crossed, head fallen. “He would’ve shut Ultron down. It makes sense.”

“No,” Bruce counters, “Ultron could’ve assimilated J.A.R.V.I.S…. This isn’t strategy—this is… rage.”

The sound of heavy footsteps makes everyone turn to look at the door. 

She  doesn’t even have time to react before Thor storms in, his expression carved from fury itself. His eyes burn with betrayal, his cape billowing behind him as he moves like a storm given human form. Before anyone can stop him, he closes the distance in two long strides, grabs Tony by the throat, and lifts him clean off the ground.

“Woah, woah, woah!” Sam yells out, but that’s not gonna stop Thor. Nothing’s stopping Thor, right about now. 

“It’s going around,” Clint retorts from the viewing stands, hands on the railings.

Tony can’t really do much when the God of Thunder has him suspended mid air by his fucking neck. Well, other than run his mouth. So he says, “Come on. Use your words, buddy.”

Thor’s voice is low, thunderous. “I have more than enough words to describe you, Stark.” His fingers tighten around Tony’s throat.

Then, and only then, does she jump into action. 

“And I suggest you use them in a peaceful manner.” She has a blade aimed at Thor’s throat—close enough to draw blood—before anyone can even comprehend what’s happening.

“Y/n.” Steve must have been aiming for de-escalation, he must have been aiming to reprimand her, but the surprise in his voice reigns supreme. He sounds plain astonished. 

Thor, however, just chuckles, hand still gripping Tony's throat like a ragdoll. “You really want to do this, Little Stark?”

No, she doesn’t. “I don’t know? Do you?”

“He made that thing that attacked us, that wishes to see us dead,” Thor reasons, shaking her brother a little for emphasis. And fuck if that isn’t a great reason.

She shrugs, “So we both know a little bit about adopted brothers who have a habit of royally fucking up.” Thor looks at her then. “Still our brothers, aren’t they?”

Something passes between the two of them, an acknowledgement of a sentiment shared by Thor himself, earlier in the night—the bond of siblings is forged in the stars.

Thor puts him down. She takes the knife off his fucking neck. Tony goes stumbling back.

Steve, who’s been watching the entire exchange with unending curiosity, steps forward. “Thor, the Legionnaire?”

She makes her way back to her corner. 

“Trail went cold about a hundred miles out but it's headed north.” He glares daggers at Tony while adding, “And it has the scepter.” He addresses the room, “Now we have to retrieve it, again.”

“The genie's out of that bottle,” Natasha states. Nodding over to the table with Ultron’s remains, she adds, “Clear and present is Ultron.”

“I don't understand,” Helen Cho speaks up, looking at the robot of the hour’s leftovers, trying to understand it in some way, shape or form. “You built this program,” she says, turning to Tony. “Why is it trying to kill us? 

Tony, this fucker, starts laughing. 

Bruce subtly shakes his head at him to get him to stop, but it doesn’t do jack shit. 

“You think this is funny?” Thor asks him, annoyed.

“No,” Tony says, turning to face them. “It's probably not, right? Is this very terrible? Is it so…” He laughs again. “Is it so... it is! It's so terrible.”

“This could've been avoided if you hadn't played with something you don't understand,” Thor tells him.

Tony’s not in the listening mood, “No, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. It is funny.” He walks up to meet Thor head on, “It's a hoot that you don't get why we need this.”

Bruce, ever the peacekeeper, tries to reign him back in. “Tony, maybe this might not be the time to—”

“Really?!” Tony cuts him off. “That's it? You just roll over, show your belly, every time somebody snarls?”

“Only when I've created a murder bot,” Bruce bites back.

“We didn't!” Tony counters, arms wide. “We weren't even close. Were we close to an interface?”

While Bruce shrugs to indicate, ‘clearly, we must have been’, Steve’s had enough. “Well, you did something right,” he says, tone cutting. “And you did it right here.” Arms crossed, he takes a few steps closer to Tony. “The Avengers were supposed to be different than S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“Anybody remember when I carried a nuke through a wormhole?”

“No, it's never come up,” Rhodey remarks, deadfaced and tired.

“Saved New York?” Tony adds.

“Never heard that,” Rhodey bites.

“Recall that?” Tony asks, voice loud as he stands in the centre of the room. “A hostile alien army came charging through a hole in space. We're standing three hundred feet below it.” He looks around the room, and then his voice softens, “We're the Avengers. We can bust arms dealers all the live long day, but, that up there? That's… that's the endgame.” He exhales. “How were you guys planning on beating that?” His eyes fall on Steve.

“Together.” 

“We'll lose.”

“Then we'll do that together, too.” 

Tony looks at him. He looks at Steve. 

And while she’s not sure what he sees, she knows it hurts him, because then he turns away.

“Thor's right,” Steve continues after a pause, turning away. “Ultron's calling us out. And I'd like to find him before he's ready for us. The world's a big place. Let's start making it smaller.”

Everyone slowly disperses.

Everyone leaves the lab.

Except for Y/n and Tony.

“Is there something you’re waiting for?” 

She cocks her head, but doesn’t respond.

“Is there a certain way the moon’s gotta be in the sky for you to start the ass-reaming of the century?” Tony challenges, like he knows what’s coming. Like he has any idea.

“Getting impatient, are we?” She bites back, easily, smoothly, without a hint of anger.

Clearly that hits a nerve, because he screams, “You’re mad at me! Be mad at me.”

“Mad doesn’t even begin to cover it,” she tells him.

His jaw clenches. “I did this for us—for you.”

“Do not put this on me, Anthony.”

He clenches his fists, in an attempt to restrain himself. “If it had worked out we would’ve been able to retire, live out our lives in relative peace. You would be able to quit this gig you despise so much.”

That strikes a nerve too. “Except it didn’t work out!” She yells out. “It didn’t fucking work out! No! Not unless your end goal was always to give birth to fucking Skynet!” 

He inhales slowly. “I can acknowledge that I made a mistake. But my intentions—”

“You ever heard about the road to hell and good intentions?” 

Both of them are trying not to blow up. They are trying to maintain some semblance of civility. It’ll crash eventually, they know that. But they try regardless. 

She sighs, looking away. “Something happened on the last mission. Something happened—I don’t know what, you won’t tell me what. But something happened, that made you make Ultron.”

Tony puts his hand on the table in front of him, and leans on it. “I got a wake up call—that’s what happened.”

She crosses her arms, “Let me give you another one—this is what you do, it’s a pattern. It’s the Wallace situation all over again. You worry about the people you love and you go overboard. Now, the mayor’s kid might have been fine in the end, but I don’t think Howie’s money and an insincere apology is not going to fix whatever fucked up repercussion are going follow with Ultron.” She clicks her tongue. “You can’t keep doing this, Tony. You have to grow up at some point.”

He laughs at her, hollow and mocking. “Ironic, coming from you, isn’t it?”

“Tony,” she warns.

“Come on!” He chides. “Fess up! That’s what you’re really worried about—what you’re afraid of, isn’t it? That Ultron knows?”

She smiles then, “I may be a Stark, but I am not that self-centred. Ultron knowing is the least of my worries. What I am  afraid of is what he’s gonna do, to us—to the world.” She shakes her head, disappointed. “Do we even understand what he’s really capable of? Do we know what he can do? Do you?” She stares him down. “And what happens if he does it? If we can’t stop him, what happens then? Huh, Tones? Will you be able to live with that?” Her tone is very cutting. “Will you be able to live with all that blood on your hands?”

“I’ll do what I always do—I’ll learn from you,” he retorts instantly. And man, he really has learnt everything from her to a T, because his tone is just as cutting as hers. “You seem to be cruising by just fine.”

Here comes the blow out.

“You fucking self-aggrandising, cocksucker!” She says it slowly, but her voice is loud and booming in the empty lab. “The world doesn’t revolve around you, you asshole!”

“No no no!” He shouts back. “Of course not! It revolves around you! What you think is right is the law! No one can ever go against Y/n Stark’s unimpeachable morals, that it?” 

“You’re getting dangerously close to saying something you’ll regret.”

“Am I? See, ‘cause I don’t think I am!” He laughs. “I think I’m just stating facts and they’re hurting your fragile little ego. ‘Cause these facts are in clear disharmony of whatever image you’ve created of yourself in your head!” He takes a few steps closer to her. “You cry about having to do this shit, the hero bullshit, all the damn time, and the one time I try to break you out of it, you want me to what? Apologise for it, because I didn’t tell you about it? I didn’t run it by you before I made Ultron, that’s the main issue here!” 

“It’s not the main issue, but it is an issue! Why didn’t you tell me?” She questions. “We tell each other fucking everything, so why not this?”

He claps his hands, “I am capable of individual thought, Y/n! Sometimes, I can make calls on my own, how about that?” He looks back at her, “I didn’t tell you about Ultron because you would have stopped me! He was necessary, and you would have stopped me!”

“No! No! You didn’t tell me ‘cause you knew it was a fucking risky idea to begin with—more than that it was absolutely stupid!”

“Science requires risk!”

“This was not a fucking lab experiment, man! There’s a robot out there in the world that wants the Avengers’ extinction! And that is on you!”

“You’re half the reason why we needed him to begin with! Without you, the Tesseract would’ve never been a factor, we wouldn’t have been subjugated to Loki’s fucking world ending nonsense. But no!” His words are laced with thick venom. “You wanted to be Daddy’s favorite, didn’t you? You wanted to impress the great Howard Stark!”

“Oh please, if there’s anyone in this room moved to make decisions based on Howard Stark’s fancies, it sure as shit ain’t me.” She meets him at the dead centre of the room. They are both fuming, panting, angrier than ever. “This is a result of your own fucking arrogance, Stark! No matter how much you try to pin this on me, this was all you! You wanted to be the hero! Well, guess what, Ozymandias? I’m looking at your work, ye Mighty, and I’ve got nothing but despair.”

He looks at her then, hurt clear in his eyes and he strikes. “Whatever our souls are made of—yours and mine are the same.”

That seems to be the last straw. 

Unbeknownst to them—downstairs, where there was once a party, now stands the team. 

Having heard the screaming and shouting from the lab, Rhodey’s eyes meet Steve’s.

“Are they—are they bickering?” Clint asks, sounding a little annoyed at the idea.

“No,” Rhodey states, grimly. “No, they’re fighting.”

He and Steve break into a run instantly, rushing up the stairs to get to the lab.

“They fight all the time,” Clint notes, confused at the rising tension.

“They bicker all the time,” Natasha corrects, following the two men. “This is not that.”

When they get to the lab, Steve goes towards Y/n while Rhodey moves to Tony. 

Thor, Hill, Clint and Natasha have followed suit, and now they get to witness this—

The Stark are at each other’s throat. 

Pushing, pulling, punching, biting, you name it.

They are cursing up a storm, trying to kill each other, with all the methods they can think of, except the ones that would work.

Steve and Rhodey try to pull them off of each other, but fail at it miserably.

“Being an asshole’s really a factory setting for you, isn't it?!”

“Takes one to know one!”

“You’re a fucking blind narcissist!” She screams, landing a punch on Tony’s jaw.

“And you’re a stupid little cry baby!” He kicks her. “You cry about having to do this all the fucking time. I try to give you a way out, now you’re crying about that too! Don’t you ever get tired of all this pathetic woe-is-me bullshit?”

“I don’t get time to dwell on it, seeing as I’m too preoccupied doing damage control for your unending fuck ups!”

“Guys! This is not helping anyone!” Steve tries, pulling her back.

But Tony takes that moment to escape Rhodey’s grasp and push her further into Steve’s arms. “I never asked you to clean up my messes!”

“Yeah well, Maria did!” She knees him in the stomach. 

He happily and eagerly returns the favor. “Do not bring my mom into this!”

My mom.

Ah.

Now, that seems normal enough. Maria was his mother. Y/n never calls her mom, never tries to either. But both of them know, despite the fucked up-ness of their family dynamic, she does at some level think of Maria as her mom too. So, whenever Tony talks about her, he calls her ‘mom’—just mom. Not his, not theirs. Just mom. Because it’s a thing, okay? It’s an unspoken thing, which makes Y/n feel like she’s family. And Tony just shat all over that.

The fight leaves her as quickly as it came. 

She deflates into Steve’s hold.

Tony, probably realising the weight of his words, halts his punch mid-air.

“You’re such a dick, Stark,” she says, voice small and broken. “I hate you.”

“Yeah, well,” Tony says, looking like a kicked puppy. “I hate you right back, Stark.”

With that, she storms out of the lab. 

Rushing down the stairs, she tries to compose herself.

Avengers Tower is a ruin of what it was just hours ago. The remnants of the party—the elegant decor, the glittering glasses of champagne—are now lost beneath destruction. Shattered glass litters the marble floor, crunching under her heels, mingling with the twisted remains of Ultron’s drones. The air is thick with smoke, the metallic tang of burnt circuitry, and something else—something sour, like the aftermath of a fight that shouldn't have happened.

"Doll," comes a smooth voice from behind her.

She didn’t even hear him. A goddamn feat, considering Steve Rogers is built like a tank. But then again, what is he if not a walking, talking miracle?

"Steve." She needs to be alone. She needs to lick her wounds, swallow back the lump in her throat, cry maybe—but not here. Not in front of him.

The space, once filled with warmth and celebration, feels eerily empty now. The sleek barstools are knocked askew, half-drunk glasses abandoned, and in the distance, a flickering light overhead struggles to hold on.

"Baby," he says all too fucking sweetly, stepping closer, reaching for her.

She shoves him back. "I can’t do this, right now, Steve."

His boots scuff against the floor as he stops himself, adjusting his stance like he's bracing for something heavier than just her words. His shield leans against a shattered table nearby, smudged with dust and streaks of something darker. His face is taut, unreadable, but his eyes—his goddamn eyes—are filled with nothing but concern.

"Just—baby, just talk to me. I’m here." He’s relentless. Steady.

Too steady.

Her dress is torn, barely hanging onto the elegance it once had, and she’s never felt more exposed. The fight with Tony is still fresh in her mind, the words hurled like knives, leaving wounds that haven't even begun to scab over. The weight of it presses against her ribs, making it hard to breathe.

She focuses on the exit. It's right there. A clear path. "I appreciate that. I do, but not right now, okay?"

Steve exhales, the kind of sigh that sounds like disappointment, and it makes her stomach twist.

Great. I’m a disappointment to both the men I—

"You’re never gonna let me in, are you?"

And that, stings.

If anyone’s learned anything from whatever the fuck’s happened tonight, it’s that Starks don’t  handle emotions with grace. They bury it. Ignore it. Or, more often than not, they explode.

So, she lashes out.

She turns to him, voice sharp. "You’re not the fucking Sun, Steve. Everything in my life doesn’t have to revolve around you. I just had a fight with my brother—I need a fucking second, alright? Sue me if that’s a goddamn crime!" Her voice echoes, bouncing off the steel and glass of the tower, filling the space that should have been filled with people—people who are long gone now.

She doesn’t want to do any more damage. There’s been enough of that for one night. She steps over broken debris, walking toward the exit, willing her body to move faster.

"I’m just asking my girl, who I—care about very, very much, to lean on me when she’s down. How is that a crime?" Steve’s voice is quieter now, but there’s something raw beneath it.

It makes her stop.

The silence between them is heavier than the wreckage around them. Outside, the city glows beyond the shattered windows, fractured reflections scattered across the floor.

"I—I," she what? She doesn’t fucking know. "I just need to be alone right now. Okay?"

With that, she leaves.

And Steve doesn’t try to stop her again.

Y/n Stark is a lot of things—a fighter, a cynic, a world-class expert in pretending she’s fine—but she’s not delusional enough to claim she doesn’t spend the rest of the night curled up in the dark, drowning in Leonard Cohen songs and crying like a goddamn idiot.

When she wakes up the next morning, she dresses her wound—both physical and emotional. And changes into a loose red, Led Zeppelin muscle-tee and a pair of light wash denims. 

And then, gathering up all her courage, she makes two quick stops before heading back to the Avengers Tower.

Y/n finds the first person on her apology tour quite easily.

He’s standing on the stairs, bathed in the soft glow of sunlight peeking in through the windows, his broad frame tense, hands braced against the railing. His shoulders rise and fall with a slow, measured breath. He’s engaged in conversation with Maria, no doubt about Ultron’s misadventures.

For a second, she hesitates. The weight of their last conversation still lingers, and for all her sharp edges, for all her Stark-ness, she doesn’t like hurting him.

Still, she squares her shoulders and steps forward.

"Mind if I steal him for a sec?" she asks as Maria Hill and her boyfriend head up the stairs.

Hill glances between them, then nods at Steve before walking past. "He's all yours."

Steve finally turns, his expression unreadable. Y/n exhales and pulls her hand from inside her bag, presenting him with her apology.

"Tulips?" he asks, a curious smile tugging at his lips, though there’s still something guarded in his eyes. His hand rests lightly on his hip, but she can see the tension in the set of his jaw.

She shrugs. "The guy at the flower shop said they’re supposed to evoke feelings of forgiveness." She holds the bouquet out to him.

His smile softens as he takes them. "Did he now?"

She nods, shifting on her feet. "Do they? Educe forgiveness?"

Steve studies her for a beat, then steps in close, his movements quiet, deliberate. His hands settle at her waist. "You’ve got nothing to ask forgiveness for, Doll."

"I do," she insists, pressing her forehead into his chest, finally allowing herself to lean into him. "I shouldn’t have blown up at you. You were just trying to help. I was mad at Tony, and I let that spill over into our conversation. That wasn’t fair. I’m sorry, handsome."

His lips brush against the top of her head, feather-light. "You told me you needed space, and I didn’t listen. I pushed when I shouldn’t have. That wasn’t fair either."

She tilts her head up, smirking slightly. "Still doesn’t give me the right to be a dick."

Steve chuckles, shaking his head. Then, he plucks a single tulip from the bouquet and holds it out to her. "I’ll forgive you if you forgive me?"

She takes it, twirling the stem between her fingers. "Alright."

He grins. "We’re good?"

She narrows her eyes playfully. "I don’t know... I don’t feel forgiven. There’s no proof."

Steve huffs a laugh, catching on immediately. "Oh, my girl needs proof, is that it?"

"How else can I be sure—" She’s cut off by his lips crashing into hers, firm and certain.

When he finally pulls back, he murmurs against her lips, "Proof enough, Doll?"

She smirks. "Proof? Yes. Enough? Never."

Steve laughs, lacing his fingers through hers. "Come on, the team’s waiting. I’ll prove it some more later."

Y/n hums, swaying a little as she walks with him. "How much proof are we talking, exactly?"

"As much as it takes," he promises, pressing a quick kiss to her temple. "Could take hours, maybe even days. Real intensive process."

She gasps, mock scandalized. "Captain Rogers, are you suggesting homework?"

He smirks. "Extra credit, Doll."

She squeezes his hand, grinning as they near the hall. 

Then, he hesitates, squeezing back. "You and Tony gonna be okay? Or should I get ready to shield up?"

She exhales, rolling her shoulders. "I don’t know," she admits. "But worst case scenario, you’ll either need a new lawyer, or end up one Iron Man short on your team."

“Neither seem like a great outcome, you know?” Steve chides.

“And here I thought you’d be happy to wash your hands off the Starks,” she feigns surprise, smiling. 

Steve just rolls his eyes at her fondly. “Believe it or not, I’ve come around to not being able to imagine my life without the iconic Stark bickering.”

It makes her chuckle, “Oh, how the mighty have fallen!”

As they make their way through the hall, they spot Clint on their right. He’s on the phone talking to someone.

“Barton,” Steve calls out to him. “Might have something.”

“Gotta go,” Clint says into the phone and hangs up immediately.

“Who’s that?” Steve questions.

Clint, ever the spy, casually answers, “Girlfriend.”

And maybe Steve buys that, but she knows something’s fishy. She knows a liar when she sees one. Mostly because she is one. 

Back in the lab, the tension is… palpable, to say the least.

Tony stands to Bruce’s left, arms crossed, eyes locked onto Y/n like she just personally hacked into his bank account. Y/n, for her part, stares right back, standing beside Steve, who is currently—very seriously—trying to shove the tulips into a glass of water like some kind of floral MacGyver.

"Stark."

"Stark."

In perfect, eerie synchronicity, they both pull out a small box and offer it to the other.

The team watches as they eye each other’s offering with deep, almost surgical suspicion—like this is some high-stakes ransom deal where one wrong move could set off a diplomatic crisis. 

Then, in complete silence, they exchange boxes with the solemnity of two world leaders signing a peace treaty.

Y/n slings her bag onto the nearest table and flips open the box.

"They ran out of—"

"Plain glazed," Tony finishes around a bite of his donut. "I know."

She nods, and follows suit, taking a bite of hers.

And just like that—poof. Tension? Gone.

Clint blinks. "That’s it? That’s all it took? They were ready to rip each other’s guts out last night and now—one donut later—it’s all rainbows and butterflies?"

Natasha, without even looking up, "Don’t question it."

"But—"

"Trust me," she cuts in, her voice carrying the weight of experience. "It’s better than the alternative."

“Which is…?” Bruce asks.

“A civil-war,” both Starks, Natasha and Steve reply in unison. 

Satisfied with the answer, the team moves on to more pressing matters.

Steve presents the tablet with Strucker’s photo to the team. 

“What’s this?” Tony asks.

Thor grabs it.

“A message,” Steve answers.

Thor slams the tablet on Tony’s chest, in lieu of handing it over. 

“Ultron killed Strucker,” Steve states, gravely.

Tony takes the tablet, looks it over. “And he did a Banksy at the crime scene… just for us.”

Bruce looks curiously at the image, while Natasha cuts in, “This is a smoke screen. Why send a message when you’ve just given a speech?”

“Strucker knew something that Ultron wanted us to miss,” Steve surmises.

Natasha begins typing away where she sits on the computer, “Yeah, I bet he—” Computer beeps. “Yeah. Everything we had on Strucker’s been erased.”

“Not everything,” Y/n reminds them.

The team spreads out, looking through boxes and boxes of physical files.

Thor’s hurling them around like he’s in a frisbee throwing competition, meanwhile Steve brings up a box and sets it on the table.

“Known associates,” he states. 

Bruce is sitting off to Y/n’s side, while Tony comes to stand right next to her, wedging himself between Steve and her. 

“Baron Strucker had a lot of friends,” Steve notes, as they all begin to go through the files.

“Well, these people are all horrible,” Bruce says dryly, and the man’s not wrong. But come on, what was he expecting?

“Wait!” Y/n yelps when she sees the file in Bruce’s hand. She slaps Tony’s arm to grab his attention.

“I know that guy,” Tony points at the photo and Bruce passes him the file. “From back in the day,” he explains. “He operates off the African coast, black market arms.” Clint walks over to the them, hearing that while Tony passes his photo around.

Steve gives him an accusing look.

“There are conventions, alright? You meet people, I didn't sell him anything,” Tony dismisses easily. “He was—he kept talking about finding something new, right?” He turns to look at Y/n in question.

She nods, “A game changer, or whatever.”

“It was all very, ‘Ahab’,” Tony finishes.

“This?” Thor asks, pointing to the guy’s neck in the photo.

“Aahh, it’s a tattoo—I don’t think he had it,” Tony supplies. 

“No, this is a tattoo, this is a brand,” Thor corrects.

Now that piques her curiosity. She takes a step back, and comes to stand behind Steve and Thor to get a look at the photo. 

And she knows instantly.

Bruce, however, trying to be helpful looks it up on the computer.

The result comes up within seconds, “Oh yeah, it’s a word in an African dialect, meaning thief.”

She cannot help the chuckle that slips out. Staring at the symbol, she says, “In a—and I am underplaying it significantly here—much less friendly way.”

Clint and Bruce raise a questioning brow at her but she ignores it.

“What dialect?” Steve asks.

“Wakanada...? Wa...Wa...” Bruce fumbles.

“Wakandan,” she supplies.

Steve and Tony’s ears perk up instantly.

“If this guy got out of Wakanda with some of their trade goods…” Tony begins.

“I thought your father said he got the last of it?” Steve questions.

Y/n walks over to them, donut in hand, chewing. “Oh please! Howard didn’t get the last of it. He was gifted—some of it.” She points to the picture of the man in the files, “And Tony’s friend Ulysses Klaw here, stole a bunch of it.”

Meanwhile Bruce chimes in, “I don't follow. What comes out of Wakanda?”

Tony looks back over to Steve’s shield that’s sitting on the floor against a table, “The strongest metal on earth.”

“How much are we talking about it?” Natasha asks her.

“Clearly enough to be branded for it,” Thor remarks.

Y/n scoffs. “Oh, more than that, actually.” She looks at them then, “In Wakanda it is customary to brand the thief with that symbol before he’s taken to be executed.” Everyone’s face morphs into grim surprise. “Yeah, they take that shit really seriously. So much so, that I know for a fact he’s still being hunted by them through every corner of this world. Which means he’s been pretty underground ever since. He only comes up for air, once in a while to keep funding his under the surface escapades, but that’s about it.”

“How do you know all this?” Clint throws back, clearly confounded. “Why do you know all of this?”

She pulls a face, “You’re the former S.H.I.E.L.D. operative, why don’t you?”

“Do you know where this guy is now?” Steve asks, looking at Y/n.

She just smiles.

Find the Static Verse Masterlist here. Read The Avengers (ft. Static) here.

[conundrumoftime]

Fandom grandma tales: how I survived canon ruining two of the ships I liked.

(Written after a discussion with some of my TROP fan pals about how canon can break your heart re: shipping, and how fandom manages. There are spoilers here for the entire run of Babylon 5, and for one story JMS wrote after it. yes, that story. sorry.)

Babylon 5 was a sci-fi space opera show that ran from 1993 to 1998. It is sci-fi of the era of 22-episode seasons, of huge ensemble casts with characters who get their own B- and C-plots, with an effects and casting budget that doesn’t always match its ambition, and - something it was quite pioneering in, at the time - grand pre-planned story arcs. 

It’s the first fandom that I was involved with in internet spaces as it was running, or at least when its final season was (there’s Discourse and drama from earlier years that I missed). Its showrunner, J. Michael Straczynski - ‘JMS’ - was very active in (non-fanfic) fan community spaces, and you always knew exactly what he was thinking about things because he was part of the discussion around them. There was also fanfic, which he didn’t stop but didn’t go near on the grounds of legal liability for story ideas. 

Most of the fanfic in the early days as the show was airing was focused around two big ships, of which one was canon endgame (Delenn/Sheridan) and one was canon all-ends-in-despair (Marcus/Ivanova). I, as a teenager discovering a developing online fandom for the first time with all the overwhelm and excitement that causes (ask me anything about what reading fic was like before the days of tags/ratings/warnings!) got into Marcus/Ivanova and also into one of the minor ships, Delenn/Lennier.

Delenn/Lennier was never, ever going to happen in canon. This is obvious; it clashes with Delenn/Sheridan which was JMS’s baby darling OTP, the show’s big love story. Delenn is married for the later part of the show. Lennier is her diplomatic aide, is absolutely devoted to her, and they have a very intense mentor/student relationship, which it seems is kind of standard in their culture (when Delenn’s own mentor died she went briefly insane with grief and started a genocidal war over it) but is still Very Intense. He is canonically in love with her, but that’s as far as the explicit canon statements go.

However. HowEVER. Canon also gives us, for that relationship, some wonderful ship fuel. Lennier knows about every bad thing Delenn has done, including all the stuff she doesn’t/can’t tell her husband. He’s her link to her previous world and culture and stands by her even when they kick her out. She says at one point, “without him, I would stumble and fall and never get up again.” 

And then… we had Season 5, the final season.

Season 5, for various complicated production reasons, was operating a little outside of pre-planned story arcs and in this season the Delenn/Lennier stuff ramped up about three gears in one go. It was still very obviously never, ever going to be canon, and was almost certainly not intended by the creator (who wrote most of the episodes himself) to look like there was even anything there. At this point Delenn is married; any relationship with her aide would not only be going against the show’s OTP, but going against it in the sense where she’s cheating on her husband, and there is Just No Way JMS would have gone there. And yet! Season 5 gave us:

A scene where Lennier says he can’t stay, it’s too painful to be around her now she’s married, and she’s devastated and has the following conversation with her husband about it:

S: I got your message about Lennier. Is there anything I can do?

D [snapping]: Almost certainly not.

S: Is it because of me?

D: In part, I think so.

S: Yeah, I was afraid of that. Well, as we say back on Earth, three’s a crowd.

D: On Minbar, three is sacred.

S [slightly uncomfortable laugh]: Well, I don’t think I’m ready to handle that one, Delenn.

Delenn then calling Lennier back to the station to do some secret mission thing for her, which involves her sneaking out of her bed while her husband sleeps to meet Lennier in a darkened alley behind a bar, where she tenderly strokes his face and they have a whole conversation about whether her husband understands her or not.

A scene where Lennier comes back from his secret mission to meet both Delenn and Sheridan, Delenn goes to greet him with a hug, and Lennier does this very pointed step back and nod in the direction of her husband, and she pulls back and just sort of pats him on the arms instead. 

I MEAN.

But, the issue here is not what fans did about it but what canon did about it. Canon did the canon equivalent of dragging that ship outside and shooting it in the head. 

In the final few episodes of the entire series, Lennier tries to kill Sheridan, runs away in shame, and then someone finds his diary in which he’d been writing for ages about what a bad decision he thought Delenn had made and how her whole marriage was an awful idea. Even to this day, it’s fun/awful watching people go through a first-time watch when they get to season 5 and hit that. ‘Character assassination in the form of a diary’ was a whole thing for a while. It’s been 20+ years and the actor who played Lennier is stilll mad about it (not because of shippy stuff, but because he - correctly! - thinks Lennier absolutely would not have done that). 

What *fandom* did, on the other hand, was Fixed The Problem.

Delenn/Lennier was not at all a big ship when the series was airing, and for a few years after. Then the fandom dynamics started to change. With less pressure on what canon was going to do, it felt like fandom had more space to play around with things it didn’t do. Fanfic got less interested in trying to fit within the overall story being told and started spinning off in all its own directions. And *this* ship started getting bigger and bigger. People did really interesting things with it, canon divergence went in all directions, everyone wrote a fix-it story of some variety, some authors did a great series of connected stories based on an idea that Minbari have three genders, the quality of the writing has been brilliant. And I think without that absolute whiplash feeling of what happened in canon, there would never have been this feeling of “well I’m not having THAT” which led to all this.

We did not need canon! Canon had done its thing. And canon had broken our hearts enough ways with many of the other stories it told (entirely on purpose) and we weren’t just going to sit back and let it ruin us forever.

By comparison, the other ship I was into was Marcus/Ivanova. This is entirely doomed. Susan Ivanova’s love life is just perpetually doomed. The first partner of hers we meet is an ex who’s interested in getting back together, but then it turns out he’s just using her to infiltrate the station for the fascist terrorist group he’s secretly joined. Then she falls for an archrival of hers, Talia, who works for Psi Corps, the organisation she loathes most of all things - but it’s okay because it turns out Talia is starting to question them too! Maybe these crazy kids can make it work! They have one night together and then OOPS turns out Talia was being secretly controlled by a sleeper personality implanted in her by Psi Corps the whole time. Ivanova’s love life is doomed. 

So for two seasons, she has this sort-of-flirty, sort-of-bickery, sort-of-friendship going with Marcus, who is on the surface of it very much “why not fall in love at first sight like a true romantic, YOLO!” but it turns out is actually deeply messed up himself and full of survivor’s guilt and pain and, you get the clear impression, would have died of shock if she’d actually called his bluff on the OTT flirting and said “yeah, let’s go for it”. And then he sacrifices himself to save her life. It is a very tragic ending, it is absolutely the way he would have wanted to go, she wakes up both furious and absolutely distraught, says that the last thing she heard was him saying “I love you”, says she wishes she’d at least slept with him once, and says that in a way all love is unrequited. PAIN. 

So, lots of fix-it fanfic, lots of ‘Marcus comes back to life’, lots of canon divergence AUs where he doesn’t die and they live happily ever after and both get over their huge levels of unresolved pain. Pretty standard for that kind of pairing. And as a pairing it doesn’t get in the way of any big canon pairings, it doesn’t imply anything icky like mentor/student power imbalances or adultery. And JMS clearly quite liked it. So that’s better, right?

NO. It was WORSE.

JMS wrote an Marcus/Ivanova story himself, published in one of the sci-fi magazines, to try to give them a happy ending. This happy ending involves Marcus, many many years in the future, waking up from the cryogenic suspension he’s in (it’s sci-fi, keep up, keep up). Ivanova is long dead, but he isn’t about to let this get in the way, so what he does is to *create a new Ivanova* by getting some kind of DNA + computerised memory/personality bank thing, finding a doctor who will clone her, putting himself back into animated sleep until the clone reaches the age Ivanova was when she died, then - THEN, I’M STILL GOING - takes her to a distant planet where, with her memories wiped and their spaceship having deliberately been crashed BY HIM so there’s no way back, they live out their lives in peace.

WHAT.

That pairing still does okay in fandom but it’s not really taken on a post-show world of headcanons and riffing on other people’s ideas and tropes in the way that Delenn/Lennier has (and we all just pretend that story never existed). 

So! This has been my experiences in the field of What We Do When The Show Has Thoughts On That Non-Endgame Ship We’re Into. Fandom manages. Fandom will see you through. And in the words of Susan Ivanova:

Babylon Five was the last of the Babylon stations; there would never be another. It changed the future, and it changed us. It taught us that we have to create the future, or others will do it for us. It showed us that we have to care for one another, for if we don’t, who will? And that true strength sometimes comes from the most unlikely places. Mostly though, I think it gave us hope that there can always be new beginnings - even for people like us.

[starlitiris]

“Lilacs” ~ Painter x Reader (Part 1)

Part 2

warnings: angst, character death, mildly descriptive graphic imagery, grief, panic attacks(?)

beginning notes: thank you to cavern-creature for giving me the idea to write this! i’m not too happy with the pacing, but oh well. more notes will be at the end of the story.

word count: ~2.1k

~ ���� ~

It’s a beautiful spring day. The sun is high and shining bright, nary a cloud in the sky. The weather was perfect! Or so Painter had been told. He couldn’t feel the temperature himself, of course. He couldn’t feel the soft, gentle breeze brushing over his monitor, either. Or smell the floral aroma coming from the field of flowers him and his friends were in. A beautiful shade of purple surrounded the three on each side. Painter, his creator, and you.

He watched you run out into the field, his creator electing to stay behind so he could set Painter up on the crate they always bring. You came to halt, turning to face the wind, and held out your arms to feel it. The breeze, the sun, the flowers grazing your calves. It was bliss.

You looked amazing. The sunlight shone on your face, highlighting all of your beautiful features. Your clothes, moving with every gust of wind that rushed by, framed you perfectly. Your smile was as bright as always. You looked perfect. You are perfect. Painter was sure of that.

“Hey, stand still!” The AI called out to you. “I wanna capture you just like that!”

You giggled. “Just like this? Are you sure?”

“Exactly like that,” he reinforced, the sweetest smile painted on his screen.

“Okay, but try not to take too long! My arms are gonna start hurting if I have to stand here for hours.”

“I won’t take THAT long! Just hold still, I’ll paint you first,” Painter responded, wiping his page clean to start sketching you.

“He has been getting faster at this lately,” his creator adds, resting his elbow atop the computer.

“Yeah, yeah,” you roll your eyes, even though you’re still smiling. “Let’s just hope he’s fast enough,” you tease.

“Hey, you can’t rush perfection!” He tells you.

You laugh. Banter with Painter is always light and fun. You’re impressed that he already has a really good outline of you done. You’ve seen him paint a hundred times over at this point, but watching his process never ceases to amaze you. It’s kind of mesmerizing. You love it.

You love him. And he loves you all the same.

One of the cameras Painter is connected to picks up on motion somewhere in the blacksite, pulling him out of his daydream. He groans and sets his unfinished drawing of you aside as a draft. Back to work.

Urbanshade just sent down a few more teams of expendables, it would seem. What a drag. At least Painter could try to have some fun while he stalls them.

He doesn’t bother with actually watching them – it serves him no real purpose to do so. He just goes off of motion sensors and does what he can do in any given room the suckers wander into. Luring Z-96 around with the PA system, activating turrets, pissing off Eyefestation when it’s near enough. Fun stuff.

He giggles to himself knowing one of the active teams was just fooled by a false door.

“Moronsss,” he says to nobody.

Things continue this way for a while, like they always do. As the night progresses, all the EXR-P teams are gradually killed off. All but one, that is. That’s all thanks to him, as well as the many other dangers this place has to offer. The motion sensors indicate that the remaining team is down to two expendables. They won’t last long. Painter is certain.

Only one expendable enters the next room.

See? He knew it.

And, would you look at that. This room has turrets in it! Might as well put this poor sap out of their misery. He activates the weapons.

It’s one of the long rooms that has a large window peering out into the ocean, equipt with three turrets to cover nearly every inch of the area. Well, they used to cover every inch. But that was before panicked Urbanshade employees set up tables and lockers for protection. Now they could only scan most of the room. Oh well. The tables and lockers didn’t save those workers, and it certainly won’t save this prisoner.

He takes note that the expendable made it to a safe spot in the center of the room. Barely, though. A laser on one of the turrets grazed their ankle before they made it to safety. The weapon was alerted for a brief moment, then went back to rotating around the room when the person was out of sight.

“Ugghhh,” Painter dramatically groaned in his cage. How annoying. At least this idiot still has the other half of the room to get through.

The expendable warily leaves the comfort of their safe spot to move forward. They only make it a quarter of the way to where they’re aiming to go, though, before being harshly informed by a loud beeping that they didn’t time this correctly. They take a few bullets to their right arm and leg while hurrying back to where they had just been hiding.

“Ngh, dammit! F-Fuck, fuck, fuck…” they curse.

Huh. That voice sounds… kind of familiar to Painter. Weird.

He decides not to waste much time on that thought. There’s no way he could possibly know this person, and he needs to focus.

He has a job to do.

Kill the expendables. Stall for time.

He waits while the bleeding criminal braces themself to make another run for it. They certainly don’t seem to be in a rush.

“Cooome ooon, stop wasting time! You’re just gonna die anyway!” Painter complains, once again to nobody but himself. He hasn’t been talking to these losers as much as he normally would today. He didn’t even feel like taunting them. He was in a sour mood. They interrupted his daydream.

“God, how am I going to do this…?” He hears the person ask themself.

They sound familiar. So familiar. It’s bothering him now. He can’t hear them all that well because of the audio quality and their quiet volume, but there’s something about that voice…

Whatever. It doesn’t matter. Get rid of them.

The expendable is on their feet again. They steady themself against the locker they’ve been tucked behind, and take a deep, shaky breath.

They hold.

They wait.

And they run as fast as their aching, wounded body will let them.

They shout when a bullet pierces their shoulder, and drop dead in front of the unopened door as they’re shot down.

And that’s the last of the EXR-P teams until Urbanshade sends more down in a pathetic attempt to retrieve their precious crystal.

Suckers.

Finding himself with nothing to do again, Painter tries to go back to his daydreaming. That wonderfully beautiful face, amongst that beautiful purple field, underneath the beautiful beating sun. But he finds himself distracted by that voice again. He tries to brush it off and forget about it, but it’s bothering him. Like an itch that won’t go away. Now that he thinks about it, it sort of sounded like…

No. That’s impossible. You were on the surface somewhere, safe and sound. Blissfully unaware of the horrors taking place at the bottom of the ocean. Unaware of the horrible things Painter is doing for the sake of freedom.

You are safe.

Hell, you might even be in that field at this very moment. It may be cold out this time of year, but you three used to agree that it was gorgeous there year-round. That’s why you all would visit it all the time.

That’s probably where you are. Yeah. In the field. Waiting for purple to blanket the ground once again.

… But even knowing that, he can’t shake the anxiety building within him. Just the thought of you ending up here somehow, let alone being killed- by him.

But it’s not you. He knows that. And just to prove to himself that it isn’t you, he’ll go look at the corpse through a camera near the door so he can see that it’s clearly… not…

…

He has to stare for a while to fully grasp what he’s seeing. He shows up on the sign next to the door.

That wonderfully beautiful face.

You’re paler than he remembers. Likely due to the fact that all of the blood that should be swimming through your veins is now a massive puddle on the floor. Your eyes, once bright and warm, now look dull and lifeless. Your face holds no emotion. Blood has seeped out of your nose and the corner of your mouth, contributing to the pool of crimson surrounding you.

You’re surrounded in red.

You should be surrounded in purple, but all he sees is red.

“... No…”

Painter doesn’t want to believe what he’s seeing is real.

“No… no no no.”

All of his anxiety is replaced with panic.

“Y/N! Y/N, wake up!”

He can’t accept that you’re dead. He won’t.

“Y/N, please! I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to! Please!”

He can’t lose you too.

“Please!!”

His voice cracks as if he’s crying.

And he is.

That’s not something he wanted to know he could do.

He starts to desperately alert to Sebastian that something is wrong. Painter can’t do anything for you himself, but his friend can. He can help. He can fix you.

Painter keeps begging for you to wake up, telling you help is on the way. Minutes feel like hours while he waits for Sebastian to arrive at the scene.

When he does arrive, he bursts through the only door in the room not marked by the navi-path.

“What, what?! I’m here, what happened?!” The man shouts, looking around to try to see what the fuss was about.

“Sebastian! Help them, please! You have to help them!” Painter pleads.

“Help who??” Sebastian asked before noticing your corpse on the floor in front of his friend. “Uh…”

“Hurry!! What are you waiting for?!”

Sebastian slithers over to you, a look of uncertainty plastered on his face. He barely recognizes you as one of the expendables that was in his shop not that long ago.

“Uh… Paint? I don’t really know what you want me to do here,” he admits.

“Help them! You have medkits, don’t you?! Use them! Use anything!! Just save them, please!!” Painter cries.

“Why, though? It’s just an expendable, you’ve done this plenty of times-”

“They’re not just an expendable, they’re my friend! I knew them before I was brought here- just, please!! We don’t have time for this!!” He shouts, frustrated that Sebastian isn’t doing anything to help yet.

“You… knew them?” Sebastian asks, now with a look of concern.

“Yes, why aren’t you doing anything?!”

“... Paint…”

“Do something!!”

“Paint.”

“They’re dying!! I can’t-”

“Painter.”

“I can’t lose them, too! I can’t! I can’t- I can’t be the reason- please!”

Sebastian frowns. It hurts seeing his friend in such a state.

“Why are you looking at me like that?! Please…!”

“Painter.”

“Stop saying my name! Why- why aren’t you doing anything?!” Painter sobs.

“They’re gone. There’s nothing we can do for them.”

“No- you’re not even trying! How do you know that if you haven’t even tried?!”

“Look at them, Paint. They’ve lost way too much blood to be saved.”

“That’s not true!! It’s not true! It’s not…” he trails off.

Sebastian remains silent. He patiently waits for his friend to process that you won’t be waking up.

It takes him a while, but eventually Painter is able to speak up again.

“Oh god…” his voice shakes. “Oh god… I killed them.”

Sebastian sighs.

“I killed them. Sebastian, I killed them. I killed my best friend. Oh, god.”

Sebastian carefully makes his way around your body to gently pat Painter’s screen while he continues to weep. He repeats over and over to himself that he killed the first person he ever loved, as if saying it enough times would somehow make it hurt less.

He did this to you.

He couldn’t bear it.

Painter was an inconsolable mess. But even still, Sebastian would stay with him for as long as he needed. He doesn’t mind putting off whatever he was doing before this to be there for his only friend.

Expendable or not, he sincerely wishes he could bring you back for Painter.

He doesn’t believe he and his AI companion can afford to lose anymore than what they have.

Reality was cruel. It proved itself to be, every goddamn day.

What Painter wouldn’t give to see you in that field again. The sunlight shining on your face, highlighting all of your beautiful features. Your clothes, moving with every gust of wind that rushed by, framing you perfectly. Your smile, as bright as always.

Surrounded in purple.

Lilacs were always your favorite.

~ 🪻 ~

ending notes: according to multiple sources, lilacs often symbolize joy, youth, the impermanence of youth, and first love. though, one source also says that lilacs can symbolize old love, stating that victorian widows would often wear them as a sign of remembrance.

Since this didn’t follow the suggested prompt exactly, I’ll likely write a less-sad part 2 for this. Let me know if you would like to see it! (It’s actually out rn if you wanna go read it, it’s linked at the top of the post! <3)

Thank you for reading.

[nejis-desk]

Jack Jeanne Complete Collection - Interview with Terasaki Yuka (Kisa’s Voice Actor) Translation

This short cast interview is from the Jack Jeanne Complete Collection art book!

Ishida: What were your impressions when you first saw the setting of Jack Jeanne?

Terasaki: It’s a story about teenagers putting on plays together that’s drawn by the creator of Tokyo Ghoul, Ishida Sui-sensei. That information alone was all it took for me to be interested. I’m sure a lot of other people thought the same.

Since it’s a story that takes place in a theatre school, I found the way it's like a game meets theatre to be unique. I also found the aspect that the shows are put on by an all male cast to be really intriguing.

—

Ishida: When you were voicing Tachibana Kisa, were there any aspects of your performance that you had to be careful about?

Terasaki: Kisa is a character herself, but she is also the stand in for everyone that’s playing the game. That’s why I stuck to the initial impression of the script as much as possible without adding too much of my own flair. I wanted her to be ‘transparent’ like Quartz.

In the romantic scenes especially, I want the player to have their heart racing over what Kisa’s love interest is saying and focus on them. So during those scenes I made sure to act out Kisa’s emotions more subtly. I’d like for those playing to be able to decide their own colours for Kisa, so I left some of her canvas blank. I remember I would go into the recording sessions keeping that in mind.

—

Ishida: Were there any particular challenges you faced while working on Jack Jeanne?

Terasaki: The singing. When I first listened to the songs with the temporary vocals I was like ‘I’m going to be singing this!?’ and my anxiety quickly turned into terror! I had to reconstruct the way I’d been singing up until then from scratch. It was very difficult and I was unsure about a lot of things, but now thanks to Jack Jeanne I love singing even more than I did before.

—

Ishida: Other than Kisa, are there any other characters that are your favourite or that you took a liking to?

Terasaki: Tachibana Tsuki… He’s Kisa’s older brother, but there’s still a lot of unsolved mysteries surrounding him. I can’t help but be curious about him. I’d love to read a novel or something about Tsuki-nii when he was a student at Univeil. I’d like to see Fumi-san and the other third years when they weren’t upperclassmen too.

—

Ishida: Quartz, Onyx, Rhodonite, Amber. If you were to enrol at Univeil, which class would you like to be assigned to?

Terasaki: The relationships between the seniors and juniors are wonderful in every class, however I think I’d have to pick Quartz. Since I don’t think you can join the other three unless you’re already particularly skilled at singing, dancing or acting. So I’d like to find my own way to express my individuality in Quartz!

—

Ishida: You have some experience with stage acting, so were there any scenes or moments in the game that you could relate to?

Terasaki: Jack Jeanne has a lot of different choices and branches in the story. You can choose different lines to say during the plays too, but no matter which one you choose the show will still reach its conclusion. If another actor changes something then you have to change with them, and if you change something, then they have to change with you. Even though every performance of a show is supposed to have the same programme and script and movements, you go into it with a fresh mind each day and there are slight differences between the shows.

There are things you sometimes only realise on opening day when you see the audience walking in, so I could relate to the sense of tension actually putting on a show brings. I’d love for the players to see how each character's dialogue changes with each option, so please play through the shows multiple times!

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Ishida: Every show in the game is quite different thematically, which one (setting, musical composition, etc) did you like best? Also, were there any shows that you’d like to try starring in in real life?

Terasaki: All of the shows are very different and I love all of them, but the one that I felt the most accomplished and happily tired after was the autumn performance. During auditions, the selection of lines from it were full of passion and tension, so I remember being excited to record for the autumn performance.

As for which one I’d like to try in real life, it would be Sissia of the Central Nation. When I recorded my lines for the whole show in one session, I started arranging how the stage set would look like in my mind. I’d think ‘this line would definitely be delivered from the top of the set, and this line would be said from the audience to the stage’. I’d read the lines whilst imagining what the show would look like and the performance that I could picture the clearest was Sissia of the Central Nation. So I ended up really wishing I could see it in person.