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a-dumbass-jester · 1 year ago

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Witch’s heart x The Magnus archives au!!!

Claire - Vast

Ashe - Spiral

Wilardo - End/Hunt

Sirius - Eye

Noel - Flesh

Charlotte - Slaughter

Zizel - Stranger

Lime - Desolation

Rouge - Web

!!Also quick disclaimer it’s been a hot minute since I’ve been into wh so some things might be incorrect!!

First off idk if this is just wh but with the entities of if it’s entirely tma’s world. It’s probably going to be the first tho

Also all the demons are human(or at least used to be)

Also for non tma meowtuals here is a chart of the entities and here is a video essays for them(it’s unfinished, there’s still two entities to cover) i also linked the wiki pages for the entities mentioned, if anyone is interested (I’d recommend listening to the actual thing but if you don’t wanna watch 200 episodes to understand this, here you go)

- Vast!claire was actually the second to last one I came up with. If Wilardo’s still immortal/ 500 years old she realizes that in a few hundred years no one will remember her and that she doesn’t matter in the big picture. And while initially it scares her later she instead finds comfort in it. She becomes a lot like Simon. Becoming a very “live in the moment” kind of person. “I don’t matter in the long run why not have some fun”. I can also she her having fun with the falling thing. There’s a hc I remember seeing for the vast avatars (specifically Simon) where their eyes changed depending on the sky. Claire already has blue eyes, just add clouds or stars!!

- Spiral!Ashe because they have a lot if similar themes. Spiraling mental health, hallucinations, fake friends, manipulation. I can see him trying to bring his family back and accidentally sacrificing himself to it instead. Also it’s avatars are typically very tall and thin(and colorful). I also like the idea of Ashe being a surreally tall, thin and colorful hallucinatory headache. The spiral has a fake place called “Sannikov Land” and I can imagine him saying he’s from there

- End/Hunt!Wilardo. Idk witch one to pick so I’ll explore both. The end is mainly if he’s still immortal. If he is, he finds comfort in it and that the end will take all eventually. It might be centuries but it will take him and he will finally get to rest. I also rlly like him with the ends powers. Like the dreams of peoples deaths, THE ROOTS (That show how people DIE!!!)

For the hunt, it’s mainly if gramps is alive (and their both mortal) mainly because I’m assigning them to Julia and Trevor. At some point them meet probably dealing with the end or another entity and end up sticking with each other in a similar was Julia and Trevor did (idk how they met I just assume that’s what happened), and both of them end up becoming part of the hunt

- Eye!Sirius, idk how he got marked but I assume maybe messing with Dorothy’s stuff or a leitner. I think the wanting to know, see and understand thing fits with Sirius very well. I can see him using it to call bs on some stuff Ashe says. Like going back to “Sannikov Land”, Ashe says he’s from there and Sirius is like “no your not. That’s not a real place.”

- Flesh!Noel is the last and most difficult one I came up with. It’s also a bit weak but it fits the best. Originally I chose it because of the flesh monster he becomes. But the rest of it kinda fits as well. The flesh is strongly associated with dysphoria, and even if you don’t hc him as trans that would still be a lot of dysphoria he would of had as a kid. I also rlly like Noel having a more animalistic fear. He became an avatar when he was cursed in cannon

- Slaughter!Charlotte. It seems a bit easy giving the war criminal the war and (sudden) violence one but anyway. She’s probably still (mostly) human. just a bit more (openly) violent, and quick to do so. The slaughter is also strongly associated with music, specifically air(?) instruments so I like to picture her walking onto a battlefield (especially no man’s land) in an actual war/military uniform playing the flute or something.

- Stranger!Zizel. This one was kinda a bias because the stranger’s my favorite(and I love Zizel) but I also LOVE uncanny valley doll Zizel. Idk if she was ever human because the stranger seems to prefer manifestations over human avatars. And either would work so idk. I feel like it adds to the lack of identity tbh. But anyways uncanny valley doll Zizel <3<3

- Desolation!Lime. This one was probably one of, it not the easiest to assign. From the fire themes, to the destruction of others and their lives. I can see her with a similar role to Jude Perry. She encounters the cult of the lightless flame sometime in her 20s (specifically 25 because that’s when she becomes a demon in cannon) and falling in love with their beliefs. I can see Lime following Jude’s story in general. She joins the lightless flame in the 80s/90s and after becoming an avatar she becomes made of wax. I like to imagine her and Sirius as that one scene where Jude and Jon meet. They make a deal where Lime would tell Sirius (pre eye) something important but they have to shake hands, lime, made of wax, burns his hand.

I can also see Matty being part of the lightless flame. Like the burning down Ashes house and destroying his life is something they would do

- Web!Rouge. I feel like control theming fits well with Rouge. If anyone were to create structured plans on how things could go I feel like I would be her. The web also has stong themes of addiction, puppets, and that your actions aren’t rlly yours, which I can see fitting. I also rlly like a spider like Rouge. Like her with multiple spider like eyes and arms. The web is also called “the mother of puppets�� which I can see fitting her. I also sometimes see people draw her with a web on her jacket so

Other side stuff (world building kinda)

I’m rlly glad I assigned Web and Desolation to Rouge and Lime because their known to not get along. They constantly clash because of the Web’s intricate plans and the Desolation’s destructive chaos

I feel like do to how close Noel is with Rouge, he was also marked by the web. Not a very strong mark but still a mark.

Dorothy plays a similar role to Gertrude because she deserves to be an absolute badass. She’s spent a good majority of her life fighting the entities, stoping rituals, etc.

Fiona and Sirius’s parents were still accused of being “witchs” and burned but this time the main motivator was that Nicholas would accuse people of serving an entity

Speaking of Fiona Elford I’m giving her Fiona Law’s role because they share a name

(Also I would link Fiona Law’s wiki page but she doesn’t have one apparently)

Fiona would pass out when she got scared which helped her survive against the entities. She would be unconscious so they couldn’t feed off of her fear, and left her alone

Giving more to the role Gramps is going to play, Trevor is a vampire hunter, so Gramps would probably take that role, and and fell victim to the hunt first and later finds Wilardo.

That’s basically it!!

I don’t have much for plot. It’s jut wh characters in tma so I assume it’s like just that plot

Wait actually they still meet in the mansion but it’s connected to the entities

There’s no murder or timelines but it was genuinely the rain!

The entities mess with them for a bit and are let out a bit later either before the change or as it’s happening

The five of them wonder a apocalyptic world where the entities have taken over (and maybe meet the “demons” again)

That’s genuinely it!!! If anyone has any ideas, please say something, I’d love to talk more about this

Thank you for reading!!

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fistful-of-rage · 1 year ago

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|| big ole ooc

sup. I’m not gonna be posting for a bit. A friend died, I wanna focus on other stuff, other things too. I might like some things and I want to post the coloring once it’s done but besides that this, @unite-battle-network & @polteagueist are gonna be quiet.

Why this post is big? My friend (and me) was part of @/atypical-leaders now @monsion-no2. We agreed another person is gonna keep the blog since they were going to use one anyway and i get to post the info here. They said they’ll keep the posts but if that changes I’ll add them to this.

peace for now

The logo is an edit of pokémon revolution online. Don’t know why.

Here is the brief intros. Those who got ~more detailed bios have them linked by their name in the intros. I’ll write about the others here based on the notes. Meri & Archie don’t have much besides pkmn on the shared file so I’ll get them done first.

Meriwether’s challenge team was an excadrill (sandstorm), pelipper (rain), abomasnow (hail), walrein (rain), scovillain (sun & grassy surge). Love (mod) asked for help in psychic terrain but if there is anything on that I don’t have access. Meri was going to consider leaving the Leaders at some point

Archie has fossils for his team, dracovish & omastar & archaeops. Love was going to add paradoxes. He’s in a similar situation to Meri of leaving, kinda, he’s a minor leader (part time) so he didn’t hurt Bud by declining but also so he doesn’t have to be around them full time and he gets to do his job.

Daisy has a profile but since the character doesn’t type much Demi didn’t go into the team’s moves. Also since they aren’t fully done ig. I’m gonna straight ctrl c&v

Jyn = sweet kiss, lovely kiss, heart stamp, blizzard/avalanche.

Noct = hypnosis, dream eater, psycho shift, shadow ball

Forr = poison spikes?? I don’t know, Forres need more love but THIS IS WHY NO ONE ELSE LOVES YOU

Tox = toxic,

Chan = inferno, confuse ray, hex, dark pulse

Gimma used gimmicks like mega evos, gigant/dynamaxing, z moves, terrastilising. She is from Fiore, moved to Galar to do a trainer journey because their league is widely known and -maxing is unique to there & publicised and she wanted to experience it for herself. Learnt of other another region’s gimmick and went there and learnt of another and so on. Pokemon aren’t on there currently but Gimma was going to be another 4 pkmn challenge definitely including a swampert. She’s tied youngest with Sully, both 19. Demi & Min thought giving them a dynamic would be cool since she’s effectively a protag character while Sully is an evil team leader. How she would be able to -max idk. She has lots of bracelets. Demi’s really happy with her name.

Julienne used food ones. Challenge team was flapple, tsareena, slurpuff. Had 3 others in a vanilluxe (too injured), cherubi (too young), fidough (not interested in battling, tries play instead). Julienne owns a diner in Nimbasa. Name ideas include Pokébowl & Fraimon Diner & Frai Up. As mentioned by Other (mod), Julienne is intersex.

Hecate used ones that have different forms. They’re also all named after warhammer characters apparently. It’s team is Chakai the aegislash, Khorne the darmanitan, Tzeentch the ditto, Kairos the morpeko, Zuvassin the wishiwashi, and my personal favorite Nurgle the palafin. Hec was maybe gonna have a thing where it changes font. It’s generally cryptically verbose.

Sully was based on evil teams, kinda like how Team Yell work.? I haven’t played swsh. As opposed to the others who are all only leader battles, Sul has grunts who do general “look menacing and like your gonna cause trouble” things so trainers battle them, battling slightly stronger ones each time you beat the prior one until you get to him. His challenge is like a scavenger hunt I guess? Apparently the first batch of grunts give an option to join Team Evil and if trainers accept Sully is called to them to battle with his challenge team as they are when you fight him after beating his grunts. His team is Vierlence a hydreigon, Stiyx a clefable, a scizor, a nidoking, a milotic & an eelektross. He also has a service mon in Harma, a shiny spritzee that has healer ability & releases violent scent to encourage breathing, to help pulmonary fibrosis.

Buddy has an intro but I’d also had an idea to give them some traits that stemmed from their communal upbringing where they didn’t have a set parent, the people in the community center all cared for them when around. They ended up with a “people aren’t permanent in life, don’t get attached (but mons are fine because Jiji hasn’t left) but make the most of your time” philosophy which sometimes leads them to be overattached (right term?) and drive people away which reinforces the idea. This group of Atypical Leaders is their latest overattachment and others like Meri were possibly going to leave. As mentioned, Archie agreed to be part of the project to not hurt Buddy but on the condition of being minor so he could do other things.

#|| ooc #atypical leaders

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finelinevogue · 3 years ago

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the fact that Y/N has post natal depression Is somewhat refreshing idk I just don't see it talked about much on here and if it is it's like Hella angsty and the partner doesn't understand what it is but I was wondering if u could touch on it a bit more cause it's something I'm really scared about happening to me and I just want harry to hold me and tell me it's going be okay 😚😚😚😚

P.s. if u don't wanna it's understandable

anon: can u write about harry helping y/n through her ppd maybe like the 3rd time was so bad that h decide that he won’t be having more children

so this was requested twice so i would love to be able to write this for you both, hope this is okay - mind it’s heavily angsty!;

tw: vomiting, ppd and od

oli - 4, felix - 3, belle - 12 weeks

Motherhood was really fucking hard.

The birth of your newly born daughter, Isabella, had really taken a back pedal on your mental health. You had suffered with post natal depression after the birth of your two sons, but nothing as bad as this.

It had hit you around the 7 week mark after giving birth. The pregnancy itself was okay, even though she was slightly premature, but it was after you’d taken her home that it’d all spiralled downhill. It started with complications with her breastfeeding - like she was rejecting the milk that you had produced. It hurt to see her reject you and your body, finding more comfort in drinking from a pre-made milk bottle as her dad rocked her to sleep. You recall the evening so clearly and felt like an utter failure as you watched her drink a bottle of formula for the first time.

“Ssh ssh,” Harry cooed to your 7 week old daughter as he rocked her in his arms on the rocking chair in her nursery. She was whining because she was hungry, but the problem was that she wasn’t accepting your milk. She hadn’t been accepting your milk all day and now it was becoming dangerous for you to keep on saying ‘Oh i’ll just try later.’ Harry had told you to make a formula bottle for her. “Mummy’s coming.”

As much as you didn’t want to, you were walking back to the nursery with a warm bottle in your hands. You’d tested it on your hand to make sure it wasn’t too hot and then taken a sip to taste it, out of jealousy, and you thought that it didn’t taste any different to you. Then again you’re not a 7 week old human whose only date is milk.

“Look here’s mummy with your yummy milk, okay? Look Belles!” Harry cooed at his darling angel and you only wished he wasn’t as happy for her as he was.

“Yeah.” You spoke softly, handing him the bottle and standing nearby, part of you hoping that she would reject this too and she wasn’t just rejecting you.

But no, she drank the formula like it was her last meal.

“Such a sweet girl, aren’t you?” Harry praised her, watching her in awe as she kept on drinking the formula. Watching as she was drinking to become the strong girl you knew she’d become. It just hurt that it wasn’t you that could help her become that.

You felt powerless. Worthless, even. The one thing that you had carried the weight of your breasts around to do and you couldn’t even do it. Your nipples were so sore and your breasts ached so badly and it was all for nothing. Perhaps it was punishment for being such a bad mum. Perhaps you’d never been good enough for this job and it was your bodies way of shutting you down forever. You wouldn’t need the ability to produce milk anymore, because you weren’t worth the title of becoming one again. You wanted to be happy for your little one, seeing her happy but all you felt was rejection and sadness. She didn’t think you were good enough to be her mum and that really hurt.

Along with the breastmilk problem, Belle also became very stubborn when you wanted to change her nappy. Anytime you tried to change and help her she put up a fuss, kicking her legs and sometimes she would bite or hit you away. It was just a reminder that you weren’t a good enough mum for her and that she didn’t feel safe enough around you. She didn’t find comfort in your presence and she was so fussy about what you did around her. With Harry, though, she was an angel. She loved him so much and obviously he made her feel so loved and safe - something you’d clearly never be able to give her.

There was also the chores of being a mother to your other two sons too. Oli and Felix were old enough to understand that they had a baby sister, but they weren’t old enough to understand how miserable you were. Harry wasn’t even able to figure it out yet. You tried your best to put on your bravest face, knowing that your family needed you to be strong but the truth was that you were crumbling on the inside. You were feeling less and less like yourself and you were waiting for the moment when you’d completely fall apart. Nothing felt right anymore. Everything was just numb.

“You two boys okay?”

You walked into the children’s playroom see that they were sat at the little table colouring in. Felix’s little legs dangled slightly, whereas Oli’s legs touched the floor and it made your heart swell at how big they were both getting.

“Yep!” Oli cheered, scribbling with his left hand as his tiny tongue stuck out from his lips as he concentrated - a habit passed onto him from his father.

“What are you both drawing?” You asked, coming over and kneeling on the floor beside them and having a peek at their drawings.

“We’re colouring for daddy.” Felix answered, some of the words not being pronounced properly due to his young lisp and lack of being taught how to say things correctly yet.

His words stung though. You appreciated that he was only a toddler and he meant nothing evil or malicious by it, but it hurt to think that maybe, just maybe, your sons were doing this for their dad because he did so much more for them than you did. Of course you tried to be the best mum you could, but maybe you weren’t doing enough. Maybe you weren’t meant to be a mum after all, or at least not a good one.

“O-oh,” you tried to hold back the tears in your eyes because your boys looked so proud at their artwork - and you should be too. “Tell me about them then, my loves.”

Oli went first, “So this is me and this is Oli and this is dad. It’s us playing football like we did the other day, mummy.” He pointed out to each of the figures, some looking actually quite terrifying but you’d never have the heart to tell him that. The figures were all holding hands though and it hurt to think that you weren’t a part of that.

“Oh that’s so good Ols!” you rubbed his head of hair and then turned to Felix’s, “What about you Fix?”

“I drew daddy as the best.” He pointed to a trophy that the figure - more like a stick-man-slenderman - was holding, which was decorated with the award of ‘my hero’.

“I told him to write hero, mummy.” Oli added, and you smiled at both of them.

“Well done. Good job both of you. Daddy will love these!” You only wished that they would draw something for you. You hated to think that you were being petty, but honestly you just wanted to feel loved. “Shall I go cut up some apple for a snack, hey?” You asked, trying to feel useful.

“Daddy is making us smoothies!” Felix answered and you had to stand up, up and away from their heigh, so they didn’t catch the tears in your eyes.

“Okay! Don’t forget to give him those pictures - he’ll love those.” You praised them and they both giggled to each other.

The sight of your sons laughing should’ve made you so happy, but it only reminded you that you weren’t the source of their happiness. You weren’t on their mind enough to be their inspiration for drawings. You definitely weren’t their hero. You were just a woman to them, not a mum. You wanted to be so much more but it was clear that they didn’t need you. They were loved by their dad and each other, not in need of your heart.

Eventually Belle settled down and was sleeping better through the night, leaving you and Harry to much more peaceful nights sleep. Well, just Harry.

You had found it near impossible to get to sleep now. You lay awake at night wondering when Belle would next wake up, wondering when she’d next need you. Harry was always quick out of bed though, even if he actually was sleeping, to help her ordering you to stay in bed and rest yourself. You couldn’t help feel like he was telling you to stay put because he knew you wouldn’t be able to do your job properly - and you started to believe him.

You’d found yourself getting jealous of those that could get to sleep. When you were walking down the road you’d judge a person by how much sleep they looked like they got last night. You definitely looked like you only had 2 hours - even when you’d only had 37 minutes but who’s counting? Your dark circles were heavily noticeable, but no one cared enough to ask. Even Harry stayed clear of you more and more often; spending more time with the kids than you and sleeping on his side of the bed instead of yours at nighttime.

There had been one evening where you had been so restless that Harry had gotten so frustrated and left the room, with a blanket and a pillow, and slept on the couch. You’d never felt so much like a burden than that night. Your family was rejecting you and you felt like a failure. You were a success at failing in everything. The meals you cooked went half eaten by everyone because you would’ve forgotten to add a key ingredient. The children preferred to spend more time playing with their dad because you weren’t energised enough to play the games they wanted to. Your daughter still rejected your milk. It was all too much and you just wanted one nights peace for it to change.

Last night had been that night.

Fuck these were so addicting. You were finally getting the sleep that you so badly craved, only with the help of tablets.

You wanted the sleep because that was the one place you could escape to. You needed that escape to help you get out of bed the next morning. Life was too hard for you to not dream, and without dreaming you didn’t want life.

It started off with taking one every night before bed, but then they stopped working again, so you started taking two, then three. Four was obviously where your body hit its limit.

“Mummy? Can you come tuck me in please?” Oli asked, little toy giraffe in hand and shaking you in hopes of waking you up to send him peacefully off to sleep.

You’d gone to bed a bit earlier tonight, lying saying that you were extremely exhausted. Harry said he would be able to handle things and that’s when you excitedly ran upstairs to take your pills; 4 of them. You’d made it into your bed, feeling slightly drowsy after completing your nighttime routine, but then you started to feel unwell and really ill. Before you’d passed out you’d stuck your fingers down your throat in hopes to make the feeling in your stomach disappear, but it ended up you throwing up all over the bed and pass out right there.

“Mummy! Wake up!” Oli rattled your back, but you were still unresponsive.

Oli padded out of the room and down to his sisters room where he knew his dad was. Belle was being extra fussy this evening and Harry suspected it had everything to do with you retiring early. He heard Oli come into the room just as he’d gotten Belle down.

“Y’alright buddy?” Harry whispered, tip-toeing out of Belle’s room, leaving the door open slightly, and crouched down in front of him.

“No. Mummy’s not waking up.” Oli pouted, rubbing a tired fist over his eye.

“She’s probably in dreamland, bud. She was really tired today.”

“She’s really tired all of the times.”

“I know, Ol.” Because Harry did know, but he was too much of a coward to face up to the problem. The doctors had said that post natal depression can strengthen with every birthed child, but he was too blind sighted by the fact that you’d overcome the first birthed post natal depression so quickly, and was so in love with his baby girl, that he didn’t truly see how bad things had gotten. Harry had tried giving you some space, distancing himself from you in bed and spending more time with the kids so you could relax and rest up, but nothing seemed to be working. He was surprised, actually, that you’d been having better sleep recently and so was hopeful that maybe the worst of the depression was over.

Hell, was he so wrong.

“Go to bed, bud okay? I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Wake mummy up so she can give me a kiss.”

“I’ll try little man, alright?” Harry scuffed his sons hair and then watched him walk off to his room.

Harry walked into your dark room, the air smelling slightly sour, and walked around to your side of the bed. He sat down next to you sighed heavily. He needed to speak to you, no matter how tired or angry you’d be with him. He was losing you as a wife and a mother and a soulmate and a lover. He was just losing you, just as you were losing yourself and he was doing tip-toeing around the problem any longer. He was going to try and make this better. He was going to better understand how you were feeling in order to help you.

“Baby?” He spoke softly, nudging you gently, “Baby wake up.” No response. “Y/N, my love? Wake up for me darling, need to speak with you.” Normally you would’ve stirred by now but there was still nothing. “Y/N?” Harry shook you a bit more urgently now - one that would surely wake even the deepest of sleepers. “Y/N!” He shouted, perhaps a bit too loudly for the comfort of his children.

He turned you over and that’s when he knew this was very, very, bad.

Your face was pale grey and your mouth was covered in the remains of vomit, and he suddenly understood the gross sour smell from before. Your hair was greasy and stuck all in the wet sick all over your face. Your eyes were puffy from the remains of tears. You looked dead.

“No, no, no. Y/N! No you don’t.” Harry’s eyes starting weeping and he couldn’t think straight. He checked your pulse on your wrist and timed it - it was unhealthily faint. He wouldn’t be surprised if you were in your last beats of your heart. His tears and sobs were uncontrollable, but he had to be both strong for you and his children, as well as for him. “Fuck sake pull yourself together Harry. Okay, baby hold on please. Okay? You don’t get to leave me like this, you hear me? I love you so much, baby. Fuck i’m so sorry.” He gently placed your head back down on the pillow and pulled out his phone.

999

“What’s your emergency?”

“I need a-an ambulance p-please. I-I think my wife i-is dying.”

The rest of it was a blur for Harry. Him trying to wake you up. The ambulance arriving. Oli and Felix crying when they saw you being carried away on a stretcher. Belle’s deafening screams. Harry’s heart beating for the both of you.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

It was the rhythmic beeping sounds that woke you up.

Your whole body felt achey and sore, your head a pounding mess. You opened your eyes slowly, adjusting them to the light of the room. You expected to see the family photo on the wall opposite you and the white of your curtains, but you were met with a heart-monitor machine and a hospital bed instead. You looked down at your body and noticed a cannula in your arm, making you squirm because you hated stuff like that so much. Your nose had a tube running inside it too, feeding you the oxygen your lungs weren’t receiving properly.

It then dawned on you how you weren’t in the room alone. You saw a sleeping Anne and Gemma on the chairs in the far corner, with Felix and Oli tucked against their sides - Anne with Oli and Felix with Gemma. It was so cute to see them so cuddled up close. They looked peaceful. You took note of the baby pram that was at the end of your bed, most likely playing bed to your beautiful daughter. Your mind felt lost. You can’t really remember what had happened, apart from taking four of those sleeping pills. You fully remember the weight of feeling worthless and useless as both a mum and a wife, though, and that feeling was still very prominent.

Your eyes lastly landed to the side of you, where Harry was sat but also laid on your bed. The top of half of his body laid upon the bed, his head buried onto this arm deep within the bed, whilst his bottom stayed rooted to the chair. His hand was holding yours tightly, which was a sign that he wasn’t asleep. You were so scared to face him though. You had failed him, again and again and you weren’t sure whether you could be enough for him anymore. Enough for your family anymore.

You squeezed his hand three times saying ‘I love you.’

“Y/N,” He whispered so hoarsely, but you were so focused on him to even catch it. He looked ruined, and you’d done that to him. His eyes were dark and tired, but also red and puffy from where he’d been crying. His hair was a mess and you could tell it hadn’t been washed in a while. How long had you been out for? You felt rested in your sleep, but not in your mind or your heart.

“I—” Your breathe got caught in your throat, but you persevered to finish your words. He deserved to here them. “I’m sorry.” You were whispering so you didn’t disturb anyone else in the room.

“No, stop it. I’m sorry baby.”

“Harry don’t, you don’t have anyt—”

“Stop yes I do I—”

“Harry please you don’t owe—”

“Y/N listen!” He cut the little volley-conversation and ordered you to just stop. You started crying when you saw that he was too. “Whatever you’re going to say, don’t. Whatever you’re thinking, stop it right now. Because I love you. Fuck, I do. I love you so much that when I found you unconscious in a pile of your own sick thinking you were dead, my only thought was that I wished it were me instead”.

“Harry, you don’t mean—”

“My god Y/N! You don’t get it, do you? I would do anything to switch places with you right now. I would suffer a thousand times over if it meant you were okay. I’d suffer in hell for you. Nobody else but you has ever made me feel like this. I married you because I love you and I want to wake up next to you every day of my beating hearts life. I chose to have children with you, because I knew how great of a mum you’d be and what beautiful people you’d help bring up into the world—”

“But i’m not.” You cut Harry short, trying to pull your hand away from him but he didn’t let you - only tightening his grip and pulling himself closer towards you. He was so close you could kiss him.

“Not what?” He asked, although he already knew the answer. You’d both had this conversation before, but you were both tired of it and were ready for it to be your last now.

“A good mum. I’m- i’m not a good mum or wife, Harry and i’m sorry.”

“I told you not say it and stop thinking it, because you’re completely wrong Y/N. You’re a good mother and a good wife, because you are a good person.”

“But i’m not great.” You whimpered, thinking back to the drawings your Oli and Felix had done. “I’m not the best.”

“But you don’t have to be, baby. You see our beautiful, healthy, happy and safe babies over there?” Harry turned to look at them, love in his eyes as in yours. “They wouldn’t be all those things, no matter how you feel about yourself, without you. I could never have brought them up to be half the people they are without you by my side, the way you make me a better person. You claim you don’t got this, but baby you’re already doing it and have been doing it for 5 years with our children and so much longer with me.”

“I’m just so fucked up Harry.” Your head tilted back on the pillow as you got heavily emotional over the situation.

Harry shook his head and moved his hand to cup the back of your neck, moving your head forwards until it met his. The touch of his skin against yours, no matter where and how small, made you feel alive and you’d missed him and that feeling so much. You missed loving him so much.

“Listen to me.” He ordered, keeping you still. “You are strong and you are brave Y/N Styles. No matter what you tell yourself I will be here every goddamn day of my life, if I have to, to remind you that you are worth more than your fucking weight in gold. You are my heart. You are my soul and the mother to my greatest achievements. I know they are yours too, just as I know I am your heart.

“You are.” You whispered so quietly under your breathe, but Harrys heart warmed when he caught you saying it. He knew though.

“Just let me love you. Let me be there for you. If you want medication then let’s do it, and i’ll be there for every step of the way. If you want to go to a rehabilitation centre for a bit, that’s okay we can—”

You shook your head and licked the tears away from your face. You were both such tearful messes, but the love between you was undeniable. “No, no please, no.”

“Okay, okay, love. We won’t. See, you’re okay. I promise, you’re okay. Stay with me, yeah? I’ll love you and keep you safe, just as you will me.”

“Promise.” You told him sincerely. He brought his lips to yours with that single word. He was so proud of your for being so brave and strong. He wishes he was half the person you were. His lips conveyed those thoughts of his and you could taste the love and passion burning through his heart and out on to his lips. He tasted like home. z he was home. Your lips smacked together messily, but you didn’t care because you loved each other too much and had kissed each other even more. Once you pulled back he stayed close to you, smiling at you with such awe. “I think.. I think I want to try medication please.”

Harry didn’t say ‘okay’ or ‘sure thing’, no. He said four words that meant more to you in that moment that any others in the universe. More than saying ‘I love you.’ Words that reminded you that not everything is okay and that sucks really bad, but you’re doing your best to get through it. It was a reminder that you had so many people who loved you and cared for you. It was a gun at the starting line symbolising that the journey ahead wasn’t going to be easy, but worth it.

“I’m proud of you.”

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rezzyromance · 3 years ago

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can i request a heisenburg x reader where they take a shower together and it starts getting freaky B) idk if im aloud to add kinks but maybe praise :D

This one was written from the heart.

(CW: Sex +18)

Once again, I've written this story with a gender neutral reader until it gets to the sexual part. I am not experienced in writing any sexual scenarios for gender neutral people or people with penises. I'm very sorry for this and hope you enjoy the story anyway. "I'm not going to ask again, Karl. Will you please take a shower?" You've been pushing Karl for the last 30 minutes to take a shower. It had been so long since he took a break from his work to actually take care of himself. It worried you, so you'd often try to take care of him here and there without getting on his nerves. But now, he's being relentless and stubborn. "For the last time, (Y/N) I don't have time to shower." His tone was aggressive as he refused to look away from his work to face you. "When's the last time you change your clothes? You sweat so much during some of the shit you do to these robots, or whatever they are." "It'll all just get dirty again, so what's the point of cleaning anything?" His gross words made you shiver. You loved him, but the man had nearly no concept of personal hygiene sometimes. A small part of him did care a little bit. He didn't want you to see him as gross. He's never had someone who he's felt the need to impress or look good for until you came along. But still, his work mattered so much to him that he casted hygiene to the side more often than you'd both like to admit. "What if I joined you?" You ask. He froze in his place, nearly choking on his own tongue. But he was quick to regain his composure. He looked over at you from the chair he was sitting in. You couldn't tell due to him wearing his sunglasses, but his eyes were scanning every little detail of your face. "Well?" You cross your arms and stare at him waiting for a response. He inhaled through his nose and tried to cover his excitement with a false sense of aggravation. "Fine. As long as it gets you to shut up." He rises from his chair and you can't help but smile knowing you won the argument. "Leave your coat, hat, and gloves here. We'll clean those later." "Yeah yeah whatever." You excitedly make your way to the bathroom. You set the shower temperature to a comfortable level of heat. The room began to fill with steam. Karl stood against the wall with his arms crossed, still wanting to seem reluctant even though he already agreed to the shower. "Alright. Water's ready. Now strip." You demand with a cheeky smile. "You first." "Sorry, can't do that. I wanna make sure you actually get in the shower before I do so you can't run." This makes him roll his eyes. But, once he's done pouting he begins to remove his shirt. You do the same, hoping it will coax him into continuing. Once his shirt is off he throws it to the side and smiles once he notices you stripping as well. It doesn't take long for you both to be completely unclothed.

He pulls back the shower curtain and steps inside. "Ah! Son of a bitch! Why's the water so hot?!" he yells out and begins to twist the metal shower knobs with his powers. "I didn't make it THAT hot." You step inside and feel a shiver crawl up your skin. "Now it's too cold." You complain. "You are not making this easy, are you?" He turns the knob to warmer. As uncomfortable as it was for him before, he didn't want to hear you fuss more than you already were. "That's better." You smile and relax as the water covers your body.

You stood there for a while, just enjoying the feeling of the heat around you. For a second, you zoned out. The whole time he stood there staring at you. Seeing you so happy and at peace made his insides start to feel as hot as the water that bounced and ran down his skin. All of his own discomfort fled as he watching, lovingly, at the smile growing on your face. Your eyes began to flutter open and he quickly looked away, not wanting it to be obvious that he was staring. But, you could tell from his flushed face and wandering eyes that he had been watching you.

You had placed 2 wash clothes on the side of the tub. You bent over to grab them and again he can't help but stare. This time, his feelings are a little less innocent as he gazes upon your body in a position that drives his mind wild. "Here's a wash cloth." You rise up and turn to hand him one. His body was closer to yours than it was just a few seconds ago, but you didn't mind. "Thanks." His voice was rough and low, almost as if he spoke in a growl. You supply both rags with soap and begin to rub down your body as he does the same.

You sit back for a moment, not really putting in much effort into cleansing yourself as you were too distracted by the sight in front of you. The way his silver hair stretched and clung to his face as the water weighed it down drove you mad. The way the water trickles off his muscular arms and powerful body absolutely hypnotized you. "Having fun there, (Y/N)?" You look up from his chest to his eyes. "Sure am. And you?" You use the cloth that you were previously bathing yourself with and begin to rub across his chest. "I'm fine, but I can bathe myself." He jokes. "Are you sure about that? It looks like you missed a spot." You point to a random area on his chest. "What? Where?" He looks down to where you were pointing and you take the opportunity to place an unexpected kiss on his lips. The initial shock causes him to almost pull away at first, but he soon pushes into the kiss, making it more passionate.

Your back was now pushed against the wall as you both continued your heated kiss. He was first to slip in tongue and you followed, ignoring any drool that leaked from your mouth as it only blended in with the shower water. His hands were gripped tightly to your hips. He begins to bring his body closer to yours. You can feel something poking you before the rest of his body makes contact which causes you to smile against his lips.

You place a hand on his wet chest and slowly make your way lower and lower until you can feel the light scratchiness of his pubes. he nibbles lightly on your bottom lip, signaling for you to go even further. You follow through and reach down you grasp his hardened penis. He inhales sharply and you begin to rub it back and forth, teasing him with your soft touches. He grunted quietly and tightened his grip on your hips, digging his fingers in slightly. You whimper and wrap your fingers around his cock as you begin to jerk him off. "Fuck yeah. Just like that." He groans in your ear before placing scattered kisses on your neck. You use your free hand to reach up and tangle your fingers in his wet locks. He begins to bite down on the more tender spots on your soft neck, leaving marks all over.

After more and more stroking, he grabs your wrist and pulls it away from his crotch. "Do you want me?" He says in a husky voice directly into your ear. "Mhm." You try to not moan as you feel his hand rub down your stomach and making its way in between your legs. "Say it. Say you want me." He demands. "I want you." You gasp lightly as his fingers begin to play with you between your legs. Your knees come together and he uses one of his hands to move them apart. You wrap your arms around his neck, using him as support as your legs shake beneath you. His rough and calloused fingers toy with your clit, causing you to dig your nails into his back. This causes him to inhale through his gritted teeth, but he didn't mind.

After almost rubbing you to completion, he pulls away to torment you some more. You let out a dissatisfied groan as his hand pulls away. His smirk was as egotistical as ever. "What's wrong? You want a little more?" He places his hands on the wall with your body in-between them. He slowly began to bring his body closer to yours, trapping you against the wall. His hard dick was between your legs and resting eagerly against your pussy. He slowly rocked his body, moving his dick across your needy region. He stared into your eyes and watched the agitation grow stronger. "Having any regrets about this yet?" He holds in a chuckle. "No. But if you don't fuck me stupid then I might." "Is that an invitation?" He leans in more and places a hand on the side of your face, cupping it while his thumb played with your bottom lip. You open your mouth and lead the tip of his thumb in before slowly biting now. You didn't bite hard at all, just enough to make him pull his dick away from you and begin to position it for entry. "I'll take that as a yes, Buttercup."

With his thumb still in your mouth, he pushes the first few inches of his dick in. Your breath hitches and you accidentally bite down harder. "Bite any harder and I'll leave right now." He threatens. You immediately loosen your jaw and begin to suck lightly as he pushes more of himself into you. You moan and he pulls his thumb out but continues to hold your face in his hand as he slowly rocks his hips, giving you a little time to adjust. But, it was only a little bit of time. Once your body loosened a little bit he began to thrust. in and out, holding into your waist to keep you from slipping. The sound of wet skin slapping filled the room along with overwhelmed moans that you couldn't keep quiet.

A few grunts left his gritted teeth as he pounded into you relentlessly. "C'mere" He grabbed you by the arm and pulled you away from the wall and turned you so your back is facing him. He bends you over and places one of his hands underneath your stomach to provide you for support. You felt as his tip wandered around in between your legs before finding your vagina again. Once he filled you up with his dick again, he began to pound into you even harder. Both of his hands gripped tightly on each side of your waist as he pulled your entire body into him with each pound.

You felt like you could feel it in your stomach. His dick was harder than ever and you swore you could feel it throbbing and twitching inside of you. Your vision was blurred from the sheer amount of overwhelming pleasure so you closed your eyes. Your moans had become quiet little whimpers that were pushed out of you with each thrust. You feel his hand make its way through your hair as he grips a handful of it and pulls your head back slightly. "Fuck yes (Y/N).." He moans as your body limply swings against his pounding. You could feel a burning feeling growing between your legs. Your climax was near and you wanted so badly to finish. He could tell by the way your legs were trembling that you were close.

He reaches one of his hands between your legs and feels for the clit as he continued to slam into you. A loud moan escaping from your lips helped him navigate to eventually finding your sweet spot. So now he was drilling into you while also destroying your clit. You shut your eyes tight and let loose all of the swears, grunts, and moans you were holding back. His climax was approaching as well. You could hear him grunting and swearing louder and louder, occasionally saying your name. "Karl! Karl I'm gonna cum!" You cry out. He doesn't change his pace until he feels you release onto him. Your body goes completely limp as your vagina floods with your orgasm. You couldn't feel your body and your brain felt foggy.

He still had an orgasm to reach, though. So, he pulled out and made sure to keep a tight grip on you to make sure you don't collapse. You followed the motion of his movements as he turned you around and put his lips to yours as he stroked his cock. The kiss was messy, but loving. He stopped jerking himself off and grabbed you by the waist again. "Wrap your legs around me." He says. You nod, too dazed to give a verbal response. He lifts you up and you wrap your legs around his waist. You also wrap your arms around his neck and rest your head against him as he sticks his dick in you again. You give no protest and close your eyes as he pounds in and out into your comfortable body that engulfed him. While you were quiet, he could still hear you moaning under your breath. He bounced your body up and down, kissing you over and over again. Once he knew his orgasm was rising, he pulled you off and came, letting it drip down his shaft and onto the wet shower floor. You were both breathless but gained a sense of comfort from feeling each others chests rise and fall.

"So," He spoke in between small gasps. "I might need to shower with you more often." You laughed softly into his shoulder, too tired to give any real reaction. He twisted the knob to the shower off with his powers. His hands never left your body as he held you against him. "Here. Sit." He sits you down on the side of the tub and grabs a towel. He softly began to rub your wet hair, attempting to dry it while you rested. You stared into his eyes as he did so. They had their usual sharpness to them, but something about him in this moment was so much more tender than his usual self. You didn't complain though. When he was done, you took the towel from him and returned the favor by drying his hair. He closed his eyes and relaxed against your gentle touch. Once you finished, you placed a kiss on his nose that immediately created a smile on his face.

"How about we go relax a little more before I get back to work." He offers. "I'd like that." You respond quietly. He wraps a towel around his waist and then wraps a towel around you before picking you up bridal style and carrying you back to the bedroom. There, you both curled up against each other and fell asleep.

#re8 #resident evil village #heisenberg x reader #resident evil 8 #karl heisenberg x you #karl heisenberg headcanons #karl heisenberg headcanon #karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg fanfic #karl heisenburg x reader

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delicrieux · 4 years ago

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CORPSE REQUESTS???? HELL YEAH ALRIGHT so maybe one where the usual lobby is streaming but with bretman rock and he‘s kinda picking up on that cute we-like-each-other-but-we‘re-too-stupid-realize dynamic between corpse and y/n so he teases them and calls them out on it?? Idk just an idea, love you!

･:* ☆ author’s note: yo! yo! this is ✨cute✨ also....funky monky friday!!!

masterlist.｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Typical game, typical stream, not exactly typical company. While Bretman is an unusual addition, he definitely adds a certain little something that not only makes the game funnier, but the dynamic more lively. If someone were to ask you if you could listen to him rambling for hours you would announce a resounding “Yes!” - well, no one asked, but you still told your stream that. They appreciated the honesty. Some of your followers, however, snuck in a few comments that vaguely read “u sure u don’t mean u could listen to corpse forever?” among the sea of keyboard smashes and emojis. You pretended you didn’t see them , focusing on that stupid card swipe that get’s you every time.

There are impostors among your group of friends, and your job as crewmate is to sniff them out. For some reason you have an inkling one of them is Sykkuno because he was just a bit too sweet during the last meeting, amping up the innocence in his voice to a suspicious extent; the second one, sadly, you are blind to. Though, if a surprise attack were to happen, you at least have Corpse beside you, guarding you while you do tasks.

The fairy-lights in your stream room twinkle and dim, your eyes lingering on Corpse’s in-game astronaut for a tad longer than necessary.

You have been following him this whole time like a lost puppy. Running in circles around his little character. At one point a chase ensued where he tried to catch you and you were laughing and you hope he was laughing too but quite frankly you were too afraid to check what the stream had to say because you figured it was going nuts.

A meeting was urgently called. You frown softly at the X’s sprung on some of your friends’ icons. “I’ll avenge you.” You mutter before unmuting your mic.

“Okay, so, it’s definitely not Corpse or (Name).” James chimes so quick you barely manage to catch him, “I passed them on my way to MedBay and she was just running circles around him while he was, I don’t know, AFK? I mean, yes, king, work! Give us nothing!”

“I dunno guys,” Sykkuno says after the laughter dies down, “(Name) has been acting pretty sus. Have you even done any of your tasks?”

“It’s not (Name).” Corpse opposes quietly, though his voice is drowned out by a cacophony of conflicting opinions.

“The hell, Sykkuno?” You exclaim, hurt. Is he trying to frame you? You knew something was odd about him this round, “What is this snake behaviour? Yes I did my tasks, Corpse is my alibi.”

“I was literally with her the whole time.” He confirms, all in that calm, baritone of his, “If she killed someone, I would have seen it.”

“How do we know you aren’t in cahoots?” Rae questions. Seconds tick by, draining the timer. This is getting nowhere. Worst of all, you’re slowly being led into the fire before they flame you. Honestly, you aren’t the impostor. If you were, you’re certain they would’ve caught you already. “I feel like (Name) and Corpse would be in cahoots.”

“Okay, good point,” James says, “but the body was found in Navigation.”

“They could’ve vented there.” Sykkuno offers.

Corpse hums, “Spoken like a true Impostor.”

“Aren’t you in Navigation, Sykkuno?” You grit.

“Yes, I, uhh, I found the body with James.”

“Sus.” You say. Your stream chat echoes it a thousand times. Maybe more.

“I don’t think it’s Sykkuno,” James mumbles, “but I also don’t think it’s Corpse or (Name). Like, I’ve seen them doing tasks around the map. Never have they been anywhere even close to a body.”

“Yeah!” Sykkuno exclaims, “Isn’t that suspicious?”

You gape at your camera, like you’re in the Office, before hissing a “How the fuck is not murdering people suspicious?!”

“Guys, seriously,” Corpse says with a light little laugh, instantly hushing the hectic conversation, “we need to vote or skip. I say we skip for now. (Name) and I have been together since I ran into her in Electrical before the first body was found. I really don’t know what else do you want me to say. Let’s skip, okay?”

A chorus of “Okay”s shakes the discord call - if it’s anyone that can convince them to do something, it’s Corpse. This talent of his is both frightening and wonderful. It’s good having someone defend you, though if he ever wanted to vote you out, you’d be done for.

Somehow, you think he wouldn’t do that, though. A smile almost slips onto your lips before you swallow it down. Incriminating. You will not appear soft on stream! Your audience would tease you all the way to hell and back.

Bretman, who had been eerily quiet through the exchange (or, possibly, accidentally muted his mic again), suddenly speaks up, “Y’all are too cute.”

“What? Who?” Rae asks.

“(Name) and Corpse. Don’t think we don’t see y’all coupling it up.”

You’re suddenly incredibly happy you always stream in low lights - it feels cozy, more personal somehow - because your cheeks flush with heat and you lean back into your chair, as if to get away from him and the screen and the game and what he’s saying. You dare a glance at the chat but it’s swimming from the influx of messages.

Corpse is quiet. You’re not sure whether that makes you feel better or worse.

“Oh my God, no kidding.” James says, the last one to skip vote, “They’re always like this, I swear, it’s the cutest thing.”

“What about me and Corpse?” Sykkuno asks, “I thought we had something special.”

“First you frame me,” You speak up, “and now you’re trying to take away my only friend? Cold, Sykkuno. Real cold.”

“Yaaaas, miss girl, don’t let him walk all over you!” Bretman cheers.

Thankfully, the timer ends, no one is flung into the void of outer space and all mics are muted again before Bretman can say anything else.

You feel nervous. Corpse’s astronaut stands next to you, immobile. Swallowing, you circle around him again. You grin when he follows after you. Good, so he wasn’t weirded out by that exchange after all.

Wait, why do you care so much anyway?

Well, whatever. There are still plenty of tasks to be done and you need to catch Sykkuno somehow. With renewed enthusiasm, you connect wires, thinking of a game plan.

“here from corpse’s stream, he just called (name) angel:)!!”

You briefly wonder if it’ll make it into his stream highlights. Something so insignificant, such an offhand affectionate comment...Probably not, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to hear it. Just to know how it sounded. To know if it really happened or was it just a little white lie from his fans meant only to tease you.

You wish you would've missed that comment in chat. Because now, with your heart racing in your chest, that’s the only thing you can think about.

hope you liked it! xx

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse husband fic #corpse husband fanfic #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband imagine #imagine #imagines #reader insert #request #fluff

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nctsworld · 4 years ago

Text

reigniting

SUMMARY ⇾ your hate for your dance captain (and ex-best friend) melts and evolves into something more for the night. WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ smut (near the end), car s*x, swearing, angst in backstory RATING ⇾ mature FOR ⇾ @markleesflathead

AUTHOR’S NOTE ⇾ yes i’m bitter that most of my fics in ask form don’t show up in tag so i might have to post them as individual fics hhh || @markleesflathead idk how this ended up into car s*x but i’m sorry if it isn’t what you really expected slkfmd also i’m v flattered to be one of your fave writers *_* thanks for the bday wishes!!

“I missed this.”

Mark suddenly says into the air after catching his breath from all the laughing he just did. With the hand that’s been resting on the steering wheel since he parked the car fifteen minutes ago, he swipes his thumb against it.

Your laughter subsides too, turning your head in the passenger seat to get a good look at him.

The closest street lamp isn’t near enough to cast a light to see all his features clearly, but you don’t need much lighting to see the waver behind his bespectacled face, nor the way his Adam’s apple bobs.

“I missed you,” he whispers softly, then matches your eyes with a tilt of his head.

The beginning was simple. You and Mark, best friends since middle school, about to attend the same university and were going to do everything together, including extracurriculars.

Which included the university’s main competitive hip-hop dance team, since both of you were on your high school’s too.

From what you heard from upperclassmen, every year, the team offered at least five spots open. Of course, Mark and you were confident in yourselves and each other to make the team.

But during your first year, only one spot was available on the team.

The straining of your friendship began to slowly occur, since you saw less of each other in order to train more individually for the auditions.

And when the auditions happened, there was a new tension between Mark and you. Still friends, but competitiveness was a prevalent wall between you two.

The wall grew larger, tangled with vines of jealousy and bitterness, when Mark received the spot, not you.

Both parties tried hard to keep the friendship afloat, but it eventually came crashing down.

“You’re just fucking jealous that I got in and you didn’t.”

“Yeah,” you said. “and I should be, because I’m the better dancer.”

“As if.” he scoffed. He spat out the next words venomously—

“If you were better they would’ve chose you, but you’ve just never been as good of a dancer as me.”

That was the last time you spoke to Mark... for a while, at least.

When second year came by, you decided to prove him wrong and obtain a spot on the team. Successfully, you did, but partway through the term, the captain dropped out and, to your dismay, Mark was given captaincy.

Fast-forward to today, Mark constantly gave you shit during practices and you knew it was personal.

Sure, you could’ve quit, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. However, you always did wonder why he didn’t decide to kick you off the team when he had the power to do so.

Following one practice, Mark ordered you to come by the studio on a separate night for a talk. He claimed it to be extra training, but you were mentally prepared for him to finally remove you from the team.

However, you were wrong and the unexpected happened—the wall between you two began to crumble. The hostile professionalism during the extra session grew into an area of familiarity, remnants of a lost friendship. After the session, Mark swallowed his pride and apologized about what he said back then, even offering to take you out to dinner.

During the meal, both of you caught each other up on the last year or so, and at the end of the night, Mark drove you home.

Laughing, smiling, and talking with you like the last couple of years were a nightmare faded into nothingness.

And you didn’t mind it, because you missed him too.

But instead of telling him that, you nibble on your bottom lip and rock your head forward with a small smile.

Continuing the conversation from where you left off, after Mark agreed to stop giving you such a hard time during practice, you say, “Can I ask you to stop doing one more thing during practice?”

“What’s up?”

“Please, for the love of God,” you say with your hands clasped in a prayer. “Stop rolling your shirt sleeves up, it’s terribly distracting.”

A hearty chuckle escapes from Mark, leaning his head back into the headrest. “Why is it distracting?”

“You know why!” you exclaim, beaming. “I know you do it on purpose!”

He cocks an eyebrow playfully. “And why would I do that?”

Rolling your eyes, you reply, "Because I know the oh-so humble Mark Lee still loves it when he gets attention."

The driver runs his tongue over the bottom of his teeth in a smirk, hand still on the steering wheel.

"And what about you?” he retorts. “You must still have a thing for arms if you think it's distracting."

You gasp inaudibly, unsure of how he could still remember that tidbit after all these years, and you twist your upper body to inch near him, glaring at him accusingly. "Is that why you do it?"

"Maybe, maybe not..." he shrugs nonchalantly. Leaning closer to you, parroting your stance, he adds in a teasing whisper along with a squint of his eyes.

"You'll never know."

There’s a passing beat as your eyes lock, one that carries the weight of the years of loving each other as friends, hating each other as enemies, working together as dancers, and everything in between.

A moment of connection that represents what everything has been working towards to for a long time, even if you never thought you’d have the chance to ever have Mark in your life again.

His look falters for a millisecond, flicking to your lips, then straight back to your eyes as if he shouldn’t have done that.

The corner of your mouth lifts slightly.

"Are you going to kiss me, Mark,” you whisper daringly. “or are you going to keep staring?"

You’re awfully aware of both of your breathing. Yours, heavy and wanting. His, light and barely existent.

"How do you know I wanna kiss you?" he croaks, a small crack in his voice underlying his question.

Because maybe a little part of you always wondered what it’d be like for Mark Lee to want to kiss you since you were kids—for him to send you that anxious starry-eyed yearning that could send your heart into cardiac arrest.

And now, from first-hand experience, you know it really does.

You hold your breath and question back—

"Am I wrong?”

The tension in the air snaps. He’s fast to cup your cheeks and crash his mouth into yours. Soft lips move in tandem with yours as you rest your hands on his shoulders, lightly tugging at his body.

The first, tender kiss is quickly thrown aside, along with your shirts. The desire escalates immensely and you’re suddenly straddling him in the driver’s seat, now pushed back to give extra room for both individuals.

"Should we slow down?" you ask offhandedly at one point while Mark’s mouth leaves a hot trail down the side of your neck. At the same time, his fingers glide and grip onto your bare waist, making their way to grasp your breasts.

Mark jerks away from your neck and carefully caresses the back of your head. "Do you want to?"

"Mm-mm,” you hurriedly shake your head and drag him into another strong kiss.

The exciting rush continues to run through both bodies present. When you return to the passenger seat momentarily to rid of your pants, Mark shimmies his bottoms and briefs down to his ankles and pulls a condom from his glove compartment.

“How often do you have car sex?” you joke, straddling him once again after he wraps himself.

In his reclined position, Mark looks up and scans your body quickly, both indulging in your natural beauty and in disbelief that you are here with him right now, after all these years.

“Hey, a guy’s gotta be safe—fuck, God.”

All quips and logic are thrown out the window when you sit on his length.

You have one hand pressed against his defined stomach, the other on the car ceiling. Bouncing with no end in sight, you allow the pleasure to enrapture your senses. Muffled whimpers reverberate against the inner side of your wrist as you feel him deeply with every movement.

On the other hand, Mark tries his best to keep his focus on you, but the intensity breaks him down. He groans in pace with your moving body, and he tightens his hold on your waist.

“Mark—” you cry. You rip your hand from the car roof and, without thought, frantically push it against the driver’s window, smudging the frost that all your collective breathing conjured up. You’re surprisingly already coming undone, and so is your lover beneath you.

“I’m close,” he pants thickly. His hazy gaze attempts to meet your half-lidded eyes, but you’re losing control. All you can do is barely nod and as you’re about to bounce more vigorously, Mark releases your waist and raises himself upward, clutching your back and neck to lock lips fiercely with yours.

You barely can thrust against him, but you don’t need to at this point, because the kiss is simply enough to draw out his climax.

You’re pulled back to reality after a few moments, panting with your foreheads tipped against one another.

“And to counter your question from before,” Mark grins, still breathing heavily. “I’ll only stop rolling my sleeves up during practice if you stop tying your shirt up to show off your waist.”

You try to stifle a smirk, but it can’t be helped. You reply to him with a flutter of the tip of your nose against his.

“No deal, captain.”

nctsworld’s birthday week celebration!

#mark lee #mark lee fluff #mark lee smut #mark lee x reader #mark lee imagines #mark lee scenarios #mark lee fanfic #nct smut #nct fluff #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct fanfic #nct 127 fanfic #nct 127 smut #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 fluff #nbwc2021 #nctcreations

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betweenlands · 2 years ago

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zedaph or martyn inthelittlewood!!

both again

zedaph:

First impression: oh yoooo it’s the other guy that was in minecraft toy box alongside simplysarc! i didn’t know he was a hermit, i wonder what he’s up to?

Impression now: SCIENCE GUY OF ALL TIME. severely underrated hermit. i love him a lot and he deserves to go apeshit. incredibly brilliant redstoner

Favorite moment: idk man like all of s8. The Chamber was brilliant

Unpopular opinion: whoooboy. okay. potential Hot Take: i really, really feel like people tend to infantilize him and/or heavily diminish the role he has in team ZIT, to the point where it feels like some people don’t even really care about him as a character compared to impulse and tango? like for some reason there’s been a big uptick in zedaph content that literally could not be further apart from the way zedaph actually works as a person and hm. don’t like that!

Favorite relationship: uh i’ll be honest i don’t have a favorite dynamic of his rn. they’re all roughly equal in my mind. would love to put him in the same room as grian for longer than just a base swap and shake them a little bit. also obviously the dynamic i have wholesale invented between him and sarc Owns, but that’s because i made it up for myself

Favorite headcanon: @autisticlalna‘s alpha-z au, baybee! i really love the added layer of depth that comes with the implications of “zed is a clone of The Original Original Lalna That Worked At Yoglabs” and i think it adds a fun addition to his sciencey thing. it’s just really unique and also it means he can be little a sinister. as a treat

Idea for a story: uhhhhhh idk what if zedaph invented a new weapon called a gun i’d like to write a sequel to stormwatching the sandbox someday! of course, that relies on simplysarc uploading enough for me to squeeze more lore out of him, but. yeah

martyn:

First impression: oh yooo there’s a yog in this grian series? i didn’t know grian knew any yogscast members! i don’t know much about martyn but i’m excited to see where this goes!

Impression now: i rattle him gently and his one mcc coin falls out of his pocket. every time i watch his teams in mcc they do absolutely awfully and the one time i didn’t watch his team, he won. i’m very sorry martyn. also his lore is alright i guess

Favorite moment: i honestly think his double life series through cleo is hilarious in every possible way and it kinda owns

Unpopular opinion: ...yeah i’m still not a fan of the watchers lol. i tend to justify it with “this is some kind of entity pretending to be the watchers” but i just do not vibe with watcher lore. i feel bad because i know his lore isn’t intentionally the exact same as the fanon watchers i have disliked for so long, but it’s way too close coincidentally for me to be comfortable with it

Favorite relationship: just like with 3rd life ren. its renchanting duo. how could it ever be anything else. however also like i’ve mentioned in previous asks i would go absolutely insane over the thematic implications of a true impulse-martyn day one alliance in a traffic game, you would never get me to shut up

Favorite headcanon: anything bridging third life and yogscast i am SUPER down for. i think @strifesolution is the person i’m thinking of who likes drawing explicit parallels between the sacrifice at black heart altar and whatever the hell parvis and strife are doing in blood and chaos? and i think that OWNS.

Idea for a story: ohhh i dunno this is a hard one. maybe something with hopperhawk martyn, like he gets trapped in the breaker world that is trafficseries and then when he busts out he promptly decides he wants to dimension dive into other dangerous realities? yeah. maybe that

#sorry for the tag emma i didn't want to not attribute you #not sorry for the tag leo. you know i can't not talk about alpha z #ask game #yt #yogs #hermits #3lsmp #llsmp #dlsmp #martyn why are you in everything ever #ask #orig #anonymous #solar scraps #oh yeah wait i should tag #alpha z au #trafficseries

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obae-me · 4 years ago

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Hi! It said requests were open so here is one. So pretty much how the brothers would react to an MC who says "I love you" after they had helped them with something. Thats something I do regularly, like someone helps them and they respond with "Oh my gosh I love you, thank you so much!" Cause. Affection. Idk, i just found the idea to be cute.

This is such a cute idea! I hope I pulled it off okay, for some reason Belphie’s is a bit angsty because I like pain I guess, but most of it is fluff! Thank you for your suggestion! 💜

Lucifer

He openly admitted it caught him off guard at first. What he will never admit is how harshly the air escaped from his lungs. Or how quickly his mind went blank at the words.

He had simply brought MC some tea, noticing how hard they had been studying. Working day and night to try to catch up and understand topics demons themselves had spent decades learning. He was proud of them for working so hard. He settled the tea down by them, watching them beam with appreciation.

“Is that for me?”

Their question elicited an amused hum from him. “Is there anyone else in here?”

They wrapped their fingers around it excitedly, entirely grateful. “Ugh, thank you, I love you, I needed this.”

He had been lucky he settled the teacup down before they spoke. Had it remained in his hands, he most assuredly would’ve dropped it, or spilt the contents at the very least. He was not prepared at all. They hadn’t been down here nearly long enough to fall in love with him, right? Was he that alluring? He must’ve done something wrong, he was sure he had been focused solely on being intimidating. He didn’t remember doing anything in particular to elicit such a response. He was flattered, but...maybe--surely-- he had heard incorrectly.

“You…” He blinked a few times as he shoved his emotions into the back of his mind, the silent screaming in his head muffled by his usual calm exterior. “..love me?”

MC covered their mouth with their hands, recognizing his confusion no matter how hard he tried to hide it. “No, no!”

Well now he was a bit irritated, and secretly disappointed even. Were they playing a joke on him?

They stammered and turned more in their seat to look at him. “What I mean is, I just kinda use the term ‘I love you’ as a general term, not an…” They blushed, “..intimate one. I say it all the time to people, I’m really sorry for confusing you. I’ll try not to say it as casually.”

It was a bit unusual to hear something like that thrown around so often, it reminded him of his days in the Celestial Realm, love thrown around at the drop of a hat. The Devildom was a lot less...affectionate. He shook his head, any sign of his surprise now completely gone from view. “Don’t change a harmless habit like that for me, I just wasn’t expecting it. I’ll know now for the future.”

It takes him quite a while to get used to it, taking every ounce of concentration not to blush whenever MC says that they love him. Once he does get used to it, he’s fond of it and may or may not continually go out of his way to perform some simple gesture to encourage them to say it to him more often. It takes even longer after that for him to finally respond with “I love you too” making them stop dead in their tracks, heart fluttering, mouth ajar, much like he did that first day when he brought them a simple cup of tea. He relished the look on their face.

How such a human stirred up these feelings within him is beyond his understanding.

Mammon

He was an open mess when MC first expressed it to him. He’d done what? Just find a pretty rock on the ground? It was shiny and smooth, surely worth a fortune, but when he went to see how much it was worth, it was declared utterly worthless. So he gave it to MC--but only because it was useless okay?! It’s not like he likes MC or anything, that’s not what this is about. Obviously.

He handed it over, acting casual, like it was nothing. Their eyes lit up at it, watching it glint mesmerizing colors in the moonlight, reacting like it might as well have been a diamond. “Whaaat, it’s so cool, I love you, thank you!”

“Don’t say I never do anything for-” It had taken a few seconds to process, but once he realized the words that had come out of their mouth, he went frozen. Rigid. His other brothers might’ve called it a miracle. His jaw was open, his glasses had somehow slipped to the end of his nose, threatening to fall off. He didn’t even blink.

“I’m sorry, I guess demons aren’t quite used to that huh? I use it as a friendly term, I used to say it to my friends all the time back home.”

He was still as stone for a good long time, gradually building up the concern in MC’s chest the more he was reactionless. Had they broken him? Once he finally gathered his one erratic brain cell in order, it was like someone hit a sudden unpause. He quickly puffed out his chest with both his hands on his hips. The explanation they gave him went in through one ear and out the other, as he was still focused on the ‘I love you’.

“Don’t freak me out like that, human, but of- of course if you were to love someone, it’d be me, eh? I don’t blame you, it would be hard to resist the Great Mammon.”

He’ll get a big head about it, strutting around, bragging to anyone who would listen--not that he gave them a say on the matter--that MC expressed they loved him. Doesn’t matter if there were romantic intentions or not, MC loved him, and he wouldn’t let it go. He’ll ignore the fact that MC will say that to most anyone.

“Yeah, well, when they say that about me, it’s different!” Or he’ll put on an act. “Yeah? Not like I care about some dumb human!”

The more he takes time to know MC, the more possessive he acts, and he gets a little bent out of shape anytime MC says ‘I love you’ so casually to anyone other than him. Mostly because he’s greedy for it, he wants those words to be his and his alone. He wants MC to be his...and his alone.

“Oi, MC, you can’t just go saying that to anyone...It’s our thing...you know?” He’ll get endlessly teased about it by everyone in the household, but no matter how much he gets pestered about it, he still wants to hear MC say it.

Only if things get romantic between them, will he be vulnerable with MC. Whenever they’re alone, he’ll get in close, melting against MC’s touch. With MC he can feel these strange and addicting feelings. With his hidden insecurities coming to light, he’ll ask MC the same question every night. “You love me, right? Like...love love me?...I...love love you too.”

Levi

MC had been convinced they gave the poor boy an actual heart attack. Although, to be perfectly fair, almost anything MC does puts Levi in a tizzy. It’s not their fault, he’s just sensitive.

They had been playing games together, nothing too unusual. Together, MC and Levi, the Best Friend Duo, battled an intense match against other real players. It had been close, but with both of their talents combined (admittedly Levi doing a lot of impressive carrying) they managed to strike victorious.

MC felt a rush, their head tingling a bit. They had been on the edge of their seat the whole time, positively exhilarated when they won. “Whoo! That was all thanks to you, Levi! I love you!”

First, MC heard the controller clatter out of his hands. They turned to look at him, his face went completely red, his eyes flicking back and forth out of control, not focusing on anything in particular. He had a hand clutching over his chest. Then to add on top of that, he completely collapsed.

“Levi!” MC’s shout was loud enough to bring some of his other brothers to check the commotion. After a short examination, they declared that Levi was fine, just dazed and lightheaded, although the color in his face refused to go away for quite some time.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, I meant it in a friendly way.”

He’ll end up locking himself in his room for days on end after the event, trying to wrap his head around how ‘I love you’ and ‘friendly’ could ever be even remotely the same. That’s not how it’s supposed to go! It’s supposed to be like...like in fiction where both of the love interests are alone, finally having the chance to meet up under a pretty sky, possibly under strenuous circumstances beyond their control, inevitably forcing them to admit their feelings!

He’ll get over it, he always does, but when he comes back he finds out MC now deliberately avoids saying ‘I love you’ to him. They meant it for his own safety, truly, but his Envy is now rubbing away at his normal shy personality.

It'll get to the point where he can’t hold back anymore. “How come you tell everyone else you love them but me!”

“Because last time...you collapsed, and then went MIA for almost a week! I didn’t want to hurt you anymore. Is this not what you wanted?”

He ends up using his arm to cover his burning face. “I...I...I...I…” After several more consecutive ‘I’s, Levi finally tells MC that he didn’t want to be treated differently, he wanted MC to tell him that they loved him too. “Because I...lo..lo...lov...I appreciate you, MC!”

MC will chuckle a little, giving him one of his favorite headpats. “I love you too, Levi.” He doesn’t collapse this time, but feels his knees get a little weak. He refuses to remove his arm from his face because now there are fresh tears flooding from his eyes that he doesn’t want MC to see. He loves them too, so much his physical body can’t handle it. Even if he doesn’t have the courage yet to say it, he’ll tell them one day.

Satan

He’s quite angry with himself for how he reacted, which isn’t a huge surprise. He does wish he would’ve handled it better, but he had no idea those three words would be sprung on him so suddenly.

He’s usually quite down to earth, but not even the many romance novels he’s read--and if you tell anyone that he reads gushy romance novels, he will kill you--had prepared him for this. Where was the buildup, the slow rising passion before the eventual confession? Despite occasional temper tantrums and pranking tendencies, he’s truly an old soul. He’s a ‘my dearest, shall we take a stroll, and perhaps, should our shoulders brush, would you permit me a show of boldness, of passion, I dream for the day our fingers intertwine’ kinda guy. So MC’s ‘I love you’ was many chapters early for him.

He’d crossed paths with MC near the front door to the House of Lamentation. MC had just gotten back from RAD, being kept by Diavolo himself. Every one and a while, after classes, Diavolo personally checks up on them to discuss the program. Meanwhile, the demon of wrath was just on his way out, a full stack of books in his arms.

“Hey, Satan, where’re you off to?” MC attempted to catch his gaze behind the many tomes stacked against his chest.

“Ah, off to return these books back to the Library.” Some hair fell before his face, but with the absence of free hands, he utilized a puff of air from his mouth to blow the strands away.

“I see, be safe then, love you!”

The words caught him off guard, and with his focus distracted, his foot caught against an unfortunate crack in the pathway. He tumbled, the books in his arms scattering themselves all over the front yard. MC turned and attempted to help, but with Satan’s panicked scramble, he ended up smacking his head against MC’s.

“My-uh-apologies-I-” He stuttered while he frantically tried picking up the books, only to have some continue to slip from his arms.

“Here, use my bag,” MC opened the backpack that had been around their shoulders. It was already full of some textbooks and assignments, but it was enough to lessen some of the struggle. He gave them a small thank you as he slung the bag over his shoulder, the remaining stragglers tucked under his arm. He waited till MC went back into the house, and then he angrily tore the front gate off its hinges. He looked like such an idiot just now.

He knows MC means not much of it other than general affection, once he thinks about it. Alongside Lucifer, anytime MC now says it, he’ll act unaffected by it. The truth is, the never ending rage burning beside him magically subsides anytime those words fall from their lips.

If he works softly and intelligently enough, perhaps he’ll have forged a tight enough bond where MC can say it for real, and the fire in his soul can find some peace.

Asmo

Honestly, despite his over dramatizations and flamboyant nature, he’s the least affected out of all the brothers. Trust him, he’s had plenty of demons try to crawl their way back to him after a night of fun, insisting that they’re in love with him. So, he’s heard it a lot, and it’s not his favorite. That being said, he discovered that MC is probably the only one he’ll tolerate the dreaded L word with.

He’d sat there, working on MC’s nails, giving them one of his—as he calls it—Asmo-tastic manicures. MC appreciates the pampering, even if Asmo uses it mostly as an excuse to hold hands and get close to the human.

When Asmo was complete, MC looked down at their newly soft hands with beautifully decorated nails, feeling a bit closer to the demons now that they had matching manicures. “It’s beautiful, Asmo, I love you, thanks!”

His chest did flutter a bit, and he let out a stream of giddy giggles as he pressed MC into him for a hug. “MC, you’re so cute, I can’t take it!”

He had sworn to himself that he wouldn’t use the words ‘I love you’ ever, no matter what, but if MC was using it so casually, why can’t he, it didn’t mean much of anything right? He quickly turns a 180 on the idea, and says it as often to MC as he can.

“Bye, MC, love you, dear! You’re wearing the outfit I gave you? I love you!” But his new form of affection is now not just centered towards the human, it’s now directed towards his brothers as well. No one is safe. “You’re giving me this, Lucifer? I love you! Beel, a snack for me? I love you!”

He’s such a hype man, and the affection spreading throughout the House of Lamentation by his and MC’s hand is infectious. Even if they don’t mean to, simply Asmo’s added influence has the brothers saying ‘I love you’ to each other more often, which has led to plenty of entertaining moments. Mammon said it once to Lucifer on accident, which admittedly filled the eldest with a bit of pride, especially at seeing Mammon’s mortified face. Beel and Belphie have no problem saying it between themselves, although it leaves them softer than they had been in a while. But perhaps the most shocking of them all was when Lucifer sleepily mumbled it to Satan, who then parroted it back to him without thinking. Both were a bit flustered, but Satan was so angry about it he wanted to tear both Lucifer’s and his own tongue out. The two refuse to talk about it, but they were both a little softer to each other that week.

But why are we talking about the others? This should be all about Asmo! You know how when someone continually says something out of irony after a while they end up speaking it unironically? That’s what was happening to Asmo, much to his confusion and unfortunately his fear. He had never...loved someone before, not in a romantic way, it was too much commitment, it was too much...emotion. But the more he continued telling MC he loved them...the more he started to believe it. The more he noticed the little things about them that he couldn’t get enough of. So one day, he stopped saying ‘I love you’ altogether.

MC met with him in private, concerned over his new out of character action. “Asmo? What’s wrong, I noticed you’ve been...distant, which isn’t like you.”

Of course they would notice, they always did. “Oh...MC...I…” For once, he was actually shy, covering up his own beautiful face to hide, an incomprehensible action. He could barely speak, he was so...scared? “MC I think...I...I think I love you.”

Beel

He was second place in the ‘staying calm’ category when MC said it. He’s a family man, loving those around him is in his nature. So hearing MC say those words, he merely took it as a family thing, and he was all too happy to bring MC into the family.

He noticed MC had been looking just a bit run down, and so, he shared a single snack with them. They practically glowed, looking up at him with a heart-melting smile. “Thanks Beel, I love you, thank you!”

Suddenly the food he was eating tasted ten times better, and he had been fully convinced for a while that it was some magic spell MC put on him. He almost ends up crying. Honestly, it’s been such a long time since he’s heard words like those. He didn’t realize how starved he was for affection. He pulls them into a tight hug that lasts for several minutes. He let them go eventually, but only because he needed hands to eat. He continued to scarf down the mouth-watering food, although the ache in his stomach wasn’t as pronounced as it had been.

He ends up giving MC a little snack anytime they say ‘I love you’, because he finds them adorable, and his way of reciprocating affection is with food. He loves MC immensely, so it’s only natural he shares his favorite things with them. Only, he was unaware that he was more or less training MC and himself by doing this. In fact, it was unbeknownst to everyone save Satan, who is very aware of what Pavlov’s Theory is. Satan doesn’t say anything though, he wants to see how this plays out.

The more MC says ‘I love you’ the more they get rewarded by Beel, and the demon has now conditioned himself by associating food with MC’s tenderness and endearment. MC steadily increases the time they spend with the demon of gluttony, almost stuck to his side as often as Belphie. MC finds they can’t help but smother him with love and affection, which Beel can’t get enough of since gluttony is his sin. And Beel discovered that he always has some sort of treat on hand that he refuses to touch because it’s MC’s.

The day MC finally caught on was the day Satan finally intervened. He himself spent some private time with MC, and, much like Beel had for a while now, he gave MC an unsolicited treat.

They hardly looked at him as they instinctively stated, “I love you!” Then ended up pausing for a long time. Satan teased them mercilessly before he explained, and MC felt their entire body grow hot with embarrassment. However, they took this opportunity to do something for Beel in return. They prepared a big meal for him, texting him to bring him down into the dining room, just for the two of them. His eyes grew wide at the sight of the banquet, but for once, his first instinct wasn’t to eat. He wrapped MC tightly in his arms, tears almost streaming down his face. MC’s presence seemed to satiate him almost as well as a twelve course meal.

“I love you, MC! I love you so much!”

Belphie

As shocking as it is, Belphie reacted the most severely. Which if you actually take the time to think about it, probably isn’t that surprising at the end of the day. It was the last thing he expected to hear, especially after everything that happened.

All he had done was run into MC in the hall. Lucifer had called Light’s Out and anyone who didn’t want to be punished would be heading straight to bed. Since he sleeps all day, he was fairly awake at this hour, not to mention recently he had felt annoyingly restless. Finally free to roam the house like he wished left him wandering and wanting. There was still something he needed, but he wasn’t sure what. MC stepped past him to get to their room, already looking exhausted, a large yawn escaping their lungs.

“Heading to bed?” They asked him, and he still found it difficult to bring his eyes up to theirs.

“Maybe soon.” He acted nonchalant.

MC rubbed their eyes, gently touching his shoulder as they passed. “Okay, love ya, get some good rest.”

He was grateful MC had immediately walked into their room, because he wasn’t prepared for how extreme his body would react. He found the energy upholding his legs went missing, and he had to lean against the closest wall to keep from crumpling to the ground. He continued to try to trick himself into believing he didn’t care. They were a human, he didn’t care, why would he care? Why should he feel guilty for everything he’d done? He was a demon, a monster, he’d embraced that when he fell, or he thought he did. But...being around MC...it made him feel like he was back in the Celestial Realm, filled with hope, with love, something he was sure he’d never truly feel again.

He recalled before the inevitable fall what his dear sister had told him before his life had been shattered before his eyes. “Remember Belphie, I love you.”

He couldn’t hold himself up any longer, clutching his pillow to his chest as the hole in his heart he had filled with sleep and anger crumbled away. He pressed his face deep into the fluff of the cushion as he sobbed. His heart felt like it was stinging like wounds often do when they’re cleaned and healing. It hurt. It threatened to break him. He had tried avoiding feelings. How could MC be so nice to him after everything? What had he done to deserve it?

Beel, influenced by the magical connected emotions to his twin, left everything he had been eating behind to come get him immediately. The intense pounding in his chest worried him to no end, he needed to find Belphie now. He found the demon of sloth curled up on the floor of the hallway, convulsing and shaking from violently crying. Beel hated seeing his beloved brother like this, but on the inside he was secretly thankful. He knew Belphie couldn’t keep acting like nothing mattered, it wasn’t healthy. He was finally coming to terms with everything, opening the door to finally, after all this time, being able to move on.

The next time the human sees the youngest brother, they see that he’s a little more aware, maybe not quite awake, but mindful of the people around him. For once, he talks about what he’s going to do in the future, looking forward instead of repeating broken events of the past. He finds that being around MC, if they’ll let him, helps the feeling in his ribs hurt a bit less, that the personality he thought had been locked up was starting to escape. Life itself matters a bit more than it used to. He has to be ready though, because he can’t afford to cry in front of his brothers the next time MC tells him ‘I love you’. Even if they think nothing by it, it means more than the world to him. But as always, he’ll act apathetic about it.

He’s working on it though, and all because MC showed him a bit of kindness despite his unforgivable actions. All he needed was a bit of love.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie

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epicene-humanoid · 4 years ago

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some trans Jeff thoughts:

he realized he was trans in elementary school and just went fuck it I'll just start introducing myself as Jeffery and see if anyone decides to stop me (as we know, jeff winger can get away with almost anything)

he got top surgery the second he could afford it (around the same time he started at his law firm), and probably bribed someone to keep it a secret

"I'm jeff winger and i would rather look at myself naked than the women I sleep with" are the words of a man proud of his transition

he's really insecure about his fashion sense, which is why he mostly dresses like the douchey guys at his firm in the start of the show, he thought you can't go wrong with the sleazy lawyer look

he will never admit it but he feels super good about the dean hitting on him, because the dean is a (cis) guy, acknowledging that Jeff is more manly than him

i think he starts out stealth and comes out to everyone one by one, probably starting with abed because he knows abed won't judge him and will probably just see it as an interesting backstory.

abed just says it's cool and maybe worth a prequel exploring Jeff's transition, and jeff asks him to predict how all of the members of the group will react to him coming out.

abed's predictions:

britta will be over-the-top supportive and do a ton of research about trans history, probably put together a slideshow just to prove how progressive she is, and jeff will be a little bit weirded out, but also touched that she did all that for him, though he would never let her know that

shirley will be confused, because she doesn't know how someone she trusts and knows so well could be part of a group she was raised to hate, but ultimately realizes that there's nothing actually against the lgbtq people in the bible, and, as a cool character development arch, starts to advocate against use of the bible to justify bigotry

troy will just think it over and decide that Jeff's physique and coolness are even awesomer knowing how much work he'd had to put in to be like that, and respects Jeff's manliness even more

annie will give him a hug, say something sweet about how she'll always love him, and worry about his health, because even she read somewhere that taking testosterone makes you more likely to have a heart attack, jeff will explain that the risk is still only as high a cis guy, and she'll be the one to always remind him to take his shots

peirce will say at best say "jeff winger used to be a chick?" and at worst call him a slur, either way there's sure to be a lot of misgendering from him, and pestering to know Jeff's deadname (needless to say, Jeff just doesn't tell peirce)

the whole group goes out of their way to keep their beach trips a secret from pierce (the girls don't want him there anyways, he's too liable to be creepy) even though jeff knows that even if pierce saw his scars, all he would have to do is make up a story about some childhood accident and pierce would never question it

sorry this ended up being super long. can I hear some of your headcanons for him?

YES ALL THIS!!! yes yes i’m fully accepting this as canon oh my god

i’m about to type a whole ass ESSAY at midnight because i have been DYING to talk about this for months ajfdksljk,,, this is going to be obscenely long and i might end up adding even more to it as i continue to rewatch the show because there is truly no shortage of trans jeff content (especially when you’re trans and see transness in every little thing ajdkslfkjs)

spoiler warning for literally everything about this show under the cut <3

i 100% agree, i feel like he realized he was trans super young, especially since in the show we see him as a little kid a couple of times.

like look at little jeff with the oversized sweatshirt and little ponytail!! that’s childhood trans fashion. not to be dramatic but part of me thinks that jeff’s dad left before he fully came out to his family (which gives him even more angst about it, because until that one Thanksgiving episode, he’s never able to prove to his dad that he’s a better man), but part of me thinks that his dad left after he came out (which adds that spicy i-should-have-stayed-in-the-closet guilt that he has to work through).

either way, because his dad wasn’t there, he had to base his concept of masculinity on something else, which was becoming a lawyer!! there’s some line that’s like “after the dust and divorce papers were settled the only man i looked up to was [the lawyer guy]”. like, replacing your father figure in your mind with the concept of “a job where you can talk your way in and out of anything and distort other people’s concept of reality”? that’s trans.

and the fucking THANKSGIVING EPISODE... i struggle to watch it without crying hehe <3 yeowch! the dichotomy of willy jr. being the “wrong” kind of man because he’s “too soft” but jeff also not being enough despite adhering to all the social standards of masculinity... fuck!! this whole scene of him telling his dad “i am Not well adjusted” and talking about how he gave himself an “appendix surgery scar” when he was a kid and he still keeps the get-well-soon letters from his classmates under his bed? oh my god. the implication of people loving him not despite his scars but because of them?? trans. i can’t think about this episode for too long or i’ll start yelling.

OH and this scene? where he talks about how his mom got him a girl costume for halloween?? and everyone said “what a cute little girl” and after a few houses he stopped correcting them?? and “once the shame and the fear wore off, i was just glad they thought i was pretty”?? THAT’S TRANS... the man needs validation oh my god... and then in all the halloween episodes we see he has these ultra-masculine costumes (a cowboy, David Beckham, one of the fast and furious guys even though he never watched the movies, a boxer with his DAD’S boxing gloves... god) costumes are about becoming something else and he always chooses to be hypermasculine and that is trans.

THE PHYSICAL EDUCATION EPISODE!!!!!!! being uncomfortable during P.E. is a queer experience. period. but him being specifically uncomfortable in the clothes someone else is assigning to him? trans. “are we gonna talk about clothes like a girl? or use tapered sticks to hit balls around a cushioned mat like a man?” TRANS. and him eventually stripping in public? celebration of transness. and the fact that he eventually becomes comfortable in both the uniform and his own style!! trans!! god i love this episode.

AND AND AND!!! the gay dean coming out episode!!! where it’s the three of them discussing the best way for the dean to come out as gay despite not entirely identifying with that label!! so we have both frankie and the dean who are sort of ambiguously queer, and jeff who’s a stealth trans man who’s probably only out to only the study group at this point. this scene where the dean and jeff have this like eyebrow communication while frankie is talking is just so cute. queer-to-queer communication. “I am so curious” “oh?” “intellectually.” “oh...” ajfdksljfk this scene just screams high school GSA to me and i love it so much.

and SPEAKING of the dean!! i totally see you on that. i feel like jeff has some internalized homophobia/biphobia (like he’d throw punches over someone else, but when it comes to himself he has a lot of shame). and also seeing the dean so confident in all his different outfits/costumes has a weird affect on him bc it’s like “okay, the dean, a cis guy, can do that, but i as a trans guy could Not because that’s Breaking the Rules”. which, like, throwback to the halloween thing. of course there’s no right way to be masculine, but mr. winger does not know that.

another thing!! the episode where their emails get leaked? that includes his emails with his therapist. fuck!! he was outed to the whole world in that episode!! no wonder he was so fucking angry!! this whole episode (and really any time he mentions his therapist) is so interesting when you think about them as a person he talks to about his transition. OH which adds to the thing with the dean!! “and you told your therapist you wanted to be alone this weekend” and “not you jeff, i know you’ll be visiting your dad” ”I told you to stop reading my emails”. luckily his study group has his back and just makes fun of him for emailing astronauts lmao

and WHO can forget “they’re giving out an award for most handsome young man!!!!” what else is there to say about this line besides: he’s trans. you know he didn’t get awarded enough for being a handsome young man when he was a kid, and no amount of compliments when he’s fully-grown can really make up for that. some people crash a kid’s bar mitzvah to cope with the fact that they struggled to be seen as themselves when they were a teenager <3

also his weird relationship with pierce? where he kind of hates him (understandably lmao) but at times has this almost-friends-almost-father-son relationship with him? especially in this episode where he’s forced to bond with him and ends up having a good time by accident (at a barber shop no less, the perfect place to Be A Man with your Man Friend). idk what to say about him besides the fact that pierce says his mom wanted a girl when he was born and made him dress like a girl (and his middle name is anastasia!) so if they’re gonna do any bonding over transness it’s gonna be that.

okay one last thing and then i’ll shut up for the night. this episode kills me (and almost kills jeff hahahahelpi’mcrying). it’s a very Trans thing to not be able to visualize your future self, it just is. growing up trans at the time he did? i don’t know what kind of future he saw for himself, but i’m so happy that he ended up with a group of friends who became his family and love him the way they all do. i’m so emotional over this asshole it’s ridiculous.

in conclusion:

they’re trans, your honor <3

#community #jeff winger #trans jeff winger #GOD i'm gonna make a video essay about it if nobody stops me #yall know that youtube channel AreTheyGay? i want to be that but AreTheyTrans #the videos would just b like... jeff community. neo the matrix. bill and ted bill and ted. audrey little shop of horrors. jo little women.#maybe i should start that youtube channel sjdfklsj #thank you for prompting me to talk about this because i think about it twice a day #i might end up reblogging this and just adding different responses jeff has had to casually homophobic/transphobic things that happen #in the show #like the episode that last photo is from when the dean is like #'spring transfer student dance isn't rolling off the tongue so we're calling it The Tr@nny Dance!' 'much more greendale.'#OH AND ACCIDENTALLY KILLING PIERCE'S DAD!!! HOW DID I NOT MENTION THAT EARLIER SJFKLSJ #'you LITERALLY killed a father!' 'well not MINE dummy!!'#alright i need to do my homework now ajfklsdjfl

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ivyaugustetc · 3 years ago

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the dead poets at hogwarts: a headcanon from hell

@aedan-mills @charlie-dalton-simp @pretentious-strikes YOU ENCOURAGED THIS BEHAVIOR SO YOU'RE GONNA HAVE TO LIVE WITH THE CONSEQUENCES. also i love you a lot but THAT'S BESIDE THE POINT.

also @aedan-mills i found out that some of the wand stuff is related to their birthdays and i am much too lazy to look all that up and figure it all out, but anyone else is welcome to lmao. sorry to disappoint but alas it's summer and i don't want to research that much. but other than that, please listen to me flex my extensive knowledge on harry potter :)

neil (half blood): i'm sorry,,,, can you say gryffindor? this boy would get up there and in a second the sorting hat would have him all figured out: big dreams with the will to pursue them, but not ambitious enough to step over others to achieve said dreams? sounds like a gryffindor to me. i just know he'd thrive at hogwarts, probably going on to play quidditch (def a chaser) and would excel in charms class. as far as pets go, i feel like he'd stay simple and classy with a chill barn owl he'd name after a famous broadway actor. he would kind of be a mix of james and remus, in which he's wild and crazy but still manages to get good grades. the teachers love him simply because they don't know much about him outside of class. he would absolutely LOVE going to hogsmeade and going batshit crazy at zonko's and honeydukes. he'd have a whole phase where he gets addicted to licorice wands and everyone else thinks they're disgusting but he simply cannot buy enough of them. he'd play a bunch of zonko tricks on the rest of the poets, saving the most harsh for charlie and the most wholesome for todd <3

todd (muggle born): ugh see i can see him being both a hufflepuff and a ravenclaw, but my heart says hufflepuff so i'm gonna go with that. he would absolutely HATE the sorting ceremony with a burning passion. getting up in front of everybody only to have a hat judge u??? no thanks. HAHAHA CAN YOU IMAGINE HIM ON A BROOM. i can't either because he would simply never get on one, probably referring to them as "flying death traps" more often than not. "hey todd, you think about joining quidditch?" "no thanks, i'd rather keep my limbs intact ;)". but he would love muggle studies a lot, even if the teacher was boring as hell. snape would scare the hell out of him for sure, resulting in his lowest class being potions. he would excel in classes that are more learning out of the book rather than in practice. for a pet, he'd want something that could not possibly turn on him and would just be sweet and loving, so ima give him a toad :) he'd name it something fancy and british, like nigel or sumn. and because of nigel, he'd love chocolate frogs because hey they're twins!!

fanon knox (pure blood): hogwarts fuck boy. okay well maybe not f boy but like...his favorite part is the fact that this is a co-ed school rather than an all-boys school so he can spy on both genders equally yknow. hmm i get hufflepuff vibes from him because he's a big romantic, sucker for cute relationships, etc. he would enjoy whichever class his current crush is in, although I feel like he'd do well with classes that involved spells and wand work mostly lmao. he'd want a really fucking cute pet, so i'd give him a kneazle (it's like a cat but a bit more lion like). he'd give it a strong sounding name, something german idk. but he'd love the shit out of that kneazle, i can tell you that much. i feel like he'd try out for quidditch his first few years, not make it on, and then make it on to the team around fourth year and somehow end up team captain in seventh (and that proves kids, that you too can have a redemption arc in sports). as far as candy goes, ima say he likes the super sour candy like acid pops n shit. like i feel like the others would dare him to each as much sour candy as he can and then he wouldn't be able to taste for a week. but he'd think it was worth it :)

cameron (muggle born): good god this boy just wants to learn. magic just fascinates him, what with growing up in a big muggle family (bestie he is the weasleys if they were all type a). he's a ravenclaw, no questions asked. he would love classes involving preciseness and attention, things like potions and transfiguration. i feel like he'd have a cute, stable relationship along the way ofc because he deserves so much love and happiness and UGH he's a baby. he'd stick with a lil ginger cat, naming it after one of the famous wizards he's read about. he would love spending christmas at the school and going places when the ground are nearly empty, enjoying the scenery. for candy, he'd go plain and simple with chocolate frogs. can't go wrong with those. he'd still have fun with his friends, but he'd skip a lot of parties for some studying (don't judge, i do it too lmao). would not play quidditch but would enjoy it, end of story.

charlie (pure blood): slytherin. don't dispute it. think the weasley twins but even more flirtatious. he would be a regular at every single party that happened, flirting with the guys and gals shamelessly and drinking butterbeer like it was water. look me in the eye and tell me he would not absolutely fucking HATE GILDEROY LOCKHART WITH EVER FIBER OF HIS BEING. he'd do spot-on impersonations of him though. teacher's worst enemy. like when he walks into class on the first day, every teacher collectively mutters "bloody hell not this kid again". asks the most incredibly stupid questions ("okay but is there a spell to turn my eyebrows green? just the eyebrows though, not my hair"). he would be the most aggressive beater on the slytherin team, though he would never deliberately try to hit someone, just distract the shit out of them ("put the fear of god in them and fate will do the rest"). he'd want a loud, aggressive pet but he'd probably end up with a mean cat that hisses at everyone. he'd give it the most adorable name that just. does not fit the personality. something like priscilla. for candy, he'd take his chance with bertie botts' every flavour beans and just roll with the punches. he's chaotic like that.

pitts (half blood): ASTRONOMY IS HIS JAM. he fucking loves that class. he tutors the entire ravenclaw house in that class. he's the guy that little first years who are terrified of the class go to when they're completely lost and don't understand what's going on. besides that, i feel like he'd just be everyone's cool older brother yknow? like he'd be in charge of helping all the first years figure out where stuff is and giving them advice to help them and stuff. he would be a die-hard quidditch fan although he would not play the sport (maybe recreationally on the weekends and holidays and stuff, but the fact that it's so fucking dangerous just does not appeal to him). he'd like the candy that does tricks and stuff, like fizzing whizbees and stuff. he gives me charlie weasley vibes, where he's hardcore in certain areas (in his case, astronomy) and just flipping chill in anything else. cool older brother vibes, man. it fits.

meeks (half blood): i've said it once and i'll say it again: nonproblematic ginger dumbledore. also a hufflepuff <3 this dude just wants to fucking coast along, getting good grades and not participating in the dumb shit that could probably get him killed (even though he would in a heartbeat if his friends were in danger. duh). he'd be a teacher's favorite, probably having conversations with his favorite teachers during free time. okay ik this isn't technically at school, but i swear to god he would be dumbledore one day. like he would be the chill ass headmaster who gets shit done while also being very la di da life is nice flowers are pretty type of person. that being said, his favorite candy is and has been lemon drops ever since dumbledore got him addicted to them. his favorite classes would be potions (he'd surprisingly get along well with snape) and he'd just be great and mixing shit right and just knowing how much of stuff to add in ("how much powdered root do i add?" "about three and a half shakes." "that's not a measurement, meeks." "*shrug* it works"). he'd stick with his small friend group and love them to death, but he'd be a friend to all really. he'll help anyone that comes to him asking for help with homework (and though he won't admit it, he gets super prideful when it's someone a few years ahead of him).

stick (muggle born): harry potter if harry potter could've been more harry potter. like he would just be a part of everything and end up being part of some prophecy that demands he'd save the world and at first he'd be like HEY i'm just a small boy but then he'd grit his teeth and finesse the shit out of this preventing the end of days stuff. he'd definitely be a gryffindor, and fucking proud of it. he'd be the seeker on the quidditch team because he is so short and small and yeah he'd fucking kill it there. he'd kind of be the shy one no one expected much from, but once he starts absolutely wrecking the shit out of the other houses' quidditch teams, he'd become sorta popular? like people would invite him to parties and stuff and he's too nice to say no, but he'd mostly just hang around the outskirts, saying hi to the other poets if he saw them and mostly talking to chris and ginny (danburry, not weasley). he'd like defense against the dark arts and minerva mcgongiall would become his literal mother i can't explain it. he'd have an owl as a pet and treat it like it was his own child, telling it thank you every time it brought his mail or took his mail. as for candy, he'd like drooble's bubble gum because the bubbles are all magic and shit and i just feel like that would make him so happy <3

chris (pure blood): the older sister lesbian <3 she'd be a sweet hufflepuff who would be friends with everyone while also being the greatest socialite the school has ever seen. you know that party that practically the entire school attended and talked about for months on end? she planned that shit. she'd be like pitts in the respect that she'd help all the first years find their way in the school and in life in general. she's just such a warm and kind person that everyone would love her. she's have a little pink pygmy puff to match ginny's purple one, and she'd give it such a perfect, human name like lila or something. she'd be great at muggle studies and all the teachers would love her. also every one is so invested in her relationship with ginny it's adorable. he favorite candy is acid pops even though they make her eyes water like crazy. she'd make pretty good grades, every once in a while getting one slightly lower than she'd expected, but she always manages to bring them up to her satisfactory level :) she would not play quidditch, but she would go all out to support ginny, even though they're in different houses. that's what i call love, baby.

ginny (half blood): the mom lesbian <3 she's a ravenclaw and also one of the sweetest people in the whole school. while chris helps other with the social aspect, ginny will help anyone in any subject they need help with (she and meeks are a help duo on this). she's quieter and less social than chris, but she's one of the best chasers the ravenclaw quidditch team has ever seen. she'd end up team captain by fifth of sixth year. she'd be like oliver wood in that she is sO invested in the team's success that at sometimes she'll go a bit crazy, but chris is always there to help her put things back into perspective <3. she'd make stellar grades of course, being good friends with all of her teachers. her favorite candy would be the sweetest things like fairy floss. as previously stated, she'd have a purple pygmy puff to match chris's pink one, and she'd also give it an adorable human name like lisa or something. ginny's just sweet to everyone, especially neil and his friends.

I DID IT. IT TOOK FOREVER AND A FEW HAIL MARYS BUT I DID IT. enjoy besties <3 love u all

#dead poets society #dead poets society headcannons #todd anderson #neil perry #gerard pitts #charlie dalton #nuwanda #knox overstreet #steven meeks #stephen meeks #richard cameron #james stuchelli #ginny danburry #chris noel

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tryingmydarndest · 4 years ago

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Thank You (Luka Couffaine x Reader)

Summary (Part 1/probably 3): The author goes on a bit of a tangent about how Y/N goes on a bit of a tangent about Viperion. Who may just have a little, big ol' crush on them?

Tags: -not enough actual relationship -fluff -but like, a weird sprinkling of angst that I didn't plan on right at the end???

Word count: 1.6k

A/N: Inspired by this fic by @seriously-sirius-black <3. Luka? OOC? Idk, probably, I don’t write fanfic. But I am actually kinda proud of how well Alya turned out. Writing this made me realize how much of a mom friend I apparently headcanon her as. I wrote this gender-and-as-everything-else-neutral as I can make it (lemme know if you see ways I can improve, tho idk how much more fanfic I'll even be writing). Also, I freakin' RAMBLE and overuse italics, but ya get what ya get and ya don't gotta fret. Ooh, important note for future parts (if i write them) - this is a kinda!au where the miraculous users keep their miraculous. also if I had a nickel for every time I get awkwardly specific about the placement of both of a character’s hands I’d have TWO nickels. Happy reading!! <3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

Part I - Paris's Cutiest Heroes

The look currently on Marinette’s face as she sputtered out a response was priceless, “Cat Noir? Cat Noir!? What makes you think I’d find Cat Noir attractive at all? And- and- HIM- the cutest superhero! Ridiculous!”

“Utterly ridiculous?”

“Nice one, Alya”

“Thank you so much, Y/N,” you gave Alya a high five on your way to your seat next to Juleka and Rose on the couch facing Marinette and Alya. A sunny Friday after school was the perfect place for Kitty Section and their entourage to hang out. Unfortunately without Ivan and Mylène, seeing as their anniversary called for a private celebration. After pushing a couple couches onto the deck of The Liberty, Alya had predictably started talking about Paris's resident hero team. Today, she chose to ask everyone who they deemed the cutest, and she made sure to jump on Marinette's... interesting response, “And girl, he has the same silky golden hair and dreamy emerald eyes as Adrien Agreste. What’s utterly ridiculous is you freaking out and dodging every time we bring up superheroes!”

The designated snack-boy, Luka, walked out precariously carrying three bowls of goodies for everyone, “Alright, I got more popcorn. Sorry, but looks like we’re out of cheese flavoring, Y/N”

“Oh... that’s fine. I honestly wasn’t expecting it since I forgot to ask,” your free hand not reaching for the bowl rubbed the back of your neck, “but thanks for remembering.”

“Oh, um yeah- Always," is it creepy to remember something so specific? Someone as nice as Y/N wouldn't be interested in some creep. Ugh. Luka took a seat with his own bowl after passing Alya and Marinette theirs. He ended up next to you on the floor, leaning against the arm of the couch, dangerously close to touching your legs.

Rose reached for the popcorn as she interjected, “You know, Alya does have a point. So Marinette, why don’t you just tell us who you think the cutest superhero is, if you don’t like us guessing?”

Somehow Marinette’s face went even paler as she spoke, “What- I mean, I don’t- I haven’t thought- Wha- what about Y/N? Why aren’t you interrogating them?”

Alya crossed her arms, “Because Y/N says the same thing about the same hero every day. Just watch. Ahem, Y/N, care to weigh in on the cuteness level of our lovely Parisian superheroes?”

You looked up from the bowl you had stolen back from Rose with wide eyes, "Hey! Okay, no, that is not fair! Besides, what is our criteria for 'cute'? I mean... Are we going just by physical characteristics? Is costume a factor? What about the animal they're representing, could our opinion of that make this whole thing unfair? And cuteness is so subjective anyway... Why are we even reducing these amazing and honorable superheroes to just their looks? I mean we could be talking about skill, or their powers or power lev-"

"-And your answer would be exactly the same. Seriously, are you done trying- and might I add, failing- to talk yourself out of this one yet? Or should I just read the article you wrote for the Ladyblog?"

"You said you deleted that!"

Luka had perked his head up at your initial fumbling response and turned to you when he spoke, "You wrote an article? That's pretty cool."

You rubbed your face to try and distract yourself from the burning embarrassment, "Umm, yeah. But it was terrible and extremely not. worth. publishing." You hoped the glare you sent the girl in question was enough to scare her into deleting it on the spot, or to at least lie about it, "So Alya kindly deleted it, right?"

Sitting up with a smug look and crossed arms severely lowered your faith that she'd keep quiet. "A good journalist archives everything. Especially something as juicy as one of her besties going on for five thousand words about how dreamy the great Viperion is," dramatically fake-fainting into Marinette's lap, Alya could barely finish before bursting out in laughter. Of course, quickly followed by the others joining in to varying degrees. Juleka and Rose happily giggled to themselves, Marinette looked more relieved that the heat was off her, and Luka seemed to be shocked, or maybe just holding back to see how you were taking this.

Horribly. Horribly embarrassed would describe how you were taking this conversation. You sat there stock-still as you hoped that none of the others could hear your heart's desperate attempts to pound its way out of your chest. That's certainly all you could hear, at least until Alya's voice brought you out of it, "Hey, it's fine," she made her way over to sit next to you as she continued, "We all have our little hero crushes. That's why I bring it up all the time, to show you that it's totally normal! I mean, we all know how I could go on about Carapace for days," Alya gestured for the others to continue, and used her other hand to try and comfort you.

"Well, I find Ladybug to be just absolutely adorable and so kind.... oh it just makes me so happy knowing she's keeping all of Paris safe," Rose added softly.

Juleka brushed a strand of hair aside as she spoke, "Rena Rouge is super mysterious, pretty rad in my opinion."

Alya was rubbing your back like the mom friend she is to try and help encourage you, "See? Super normal, so go ahead and release all this pent up Viperion energy that I know you have. Maybe it'll encourage Marinette here to finally join in the fun!" Alya stuck her tongue out at her best friend, who responded promptly by smashing her face into a pillow.

You just sighed, "I mean- it’s- it can't just-'' were you supposed to just get over it all just like that? Well, at least the embarrassment was wearing off, maybe you could just entertain her for a bit, "Well- um, you see.... HisHairJustLooksReallySoftAnd- you know what. Nope. Can't do anymore of this. Yep- that's all you're getting out of me!" This time when everyone started giggling, you were able to comfortably join them. It was a nice feeling.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A nice evening chilling out with your friends was always welcome, especially with the rising number of akumatizations making that less possible. But the night had come to a close. Alya and Marinette went home, Juleka was walking Rose back herself, and Luka and you had volunteered to clean up. Luka stopped drying the cup in his hand for a minute as he looked at you, “Um, I know it might not be my place, but I want you to know that you don’t have to be embarrassed about the whole... Viperion thing.” God, how am I supposed to take the news that MY crush has a crush on.... Sort of me? Am I supposed to count it as me at all?

“Oh, um. Yeah, thanks. I think I’m over the embarrassment now that it’s out. I don’t know, it’s just that a lot of people think it’s weird since he’s kind of a new hero,” how are you supposed to explain this to him? That you kept such a non-issue secret from him, especially without getting suspiciously defensive about it. “And then people use that to try and say that I only like him for his looks..... And that’s not it! I don’t know, it’s kind of.... A lot? To explain, that is.” This was not going well.

“Oh... Well, what is it? That you like about him, I guess.”

This was so not going well. But he was waiting for a response so... “Uh, well I guess it did kinda start..... that way.... but then I started doing research. I learned about his power and saw videos of his fights. He’s really good! Especially for being so new, which kinda goes into why his power makes me like him so much.” Shit. Rambling, I’m just talking and talking and I need to stop. But how am I supposed to change the subject now? And now Luka’s sitting down, and he seems so invested. Why does this have to happen to me?

“What do you mean by that?”

Luka’s voice kindly shuts your little thought-spiral in its tracks. What were you saying? Oh, Viperion’s powers! You can talk about this, you know this. Just keep talking, at least he seems interested in it, “Well, you know how he can go back and redo the last couple of minutes?” Luka nodded, “Well, we always see the time that worked out. Us civilians get to keep going from the one time it all went right. Just imagine all the times he failed, all the times he couldn’t get it right. It could be dozens, maybe even hundreds of times! He must get so discouraged at some point, I mean I know I would.... I guess I didn’t really think about it at first, but.... but, I doubt I could keep that determination, and I’m so glad Paris has a hero who can, and does.”

Silence. Why was it so quiet? Oh no, he thinks I’m weird. He must think-

“All of this from ‘his hair looks soft’?”

“Hey! You can’t tell me not to be embarrassed, then make fun of me! That’s against the rules!”

Luka chuckled as he said, “Against what rules, exactly?”

“The Rules Of Best Friendship, duh!”

“And who exactly said you were my best friend?”

“Well... your loss, I guess. Now you won’t get an invitation when I plan Rose and Juleka’s wedding,” you brushed off his offended glare as you took the seat next to him.

“She’s my sister.”

“She’d take my side.”

I’d take your side, too. I will always take your side. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

A/N the sequel: I am super bad at finishing things, but I really wanna keep motivated to finish this (like I have a full, probably 3 part, plan for this). If you guys want to help, shoot me a message and I'll send you a link to the google doc I'm writing this on. Feel free to leave a little comment (pls be kind, obviously) and see my writing process! Idk, would any of you guys be interested in that? Would you just get annoyed at having already read the thing before I post it?

#luka couffaine x reader #luka couffaine #mircaulous ladybug #miraculous fanworks #miraculous fanfic #miraculous luka #miraculous lb #the tales of ladybug and cat noir #luka couffaine fanfic #luka couffaine imagine #im gonna hate seeing this show up when i search luka x reader #but imma have to deal with it #mmmmmmm #we love anxiety here #<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

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morganaspendragonss · 3 years ago

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Hello 🥰 Whump fic idea :)TK lands in the hospital, again. But this time they're serious, serious injuries, he is under a respirator, he is not breathing on his own, the doctors do not give him much chance of survival, they even advise it would be the best to prepare for the worst and say goodbye, just in case. Owen calls Gwen, she's arriving the same day with Enzo and baby junior. When in the hospital they find out how it happened and that it's mostly Owen's fault (I don't know, for example, he allowed Tk to enter the unstable building to tend to the patient, or whether he made someone else angry and this person unloaded it on TK, or Owen decided to do something reckless and TK wanted to save him or it is The arson situation from 2x12 so Gwyn arrives pregnant, without a baby of course), Gwyn slaps him twice and Enzo punches him right in the nose, breaking it, for risking TK's life. Fortunately, despite the bad prognosis, TK wakes up, but after he took his sweet time being in a coma.

holly's august extravaganza day 3: the meetings for those in my wake

thanks for the prompt! i really loved writing this one though i need to confess to toning it down a little? idk but with the way it was going it didn't feel right to have enzo break owen's nose. i hope you still like it!

ao3 | 3.3k | major character injury, coma, angst with a happy ending

For years after the divorce, Gwyn came to learn that any call from Owen was almost certainly bad news.

TK got in a fight.

TK overdosed.

TK was shot, he’s in the hospital.

Over and over, until the first words out of her mouth whenever Owen’s name flashed up on her screen were, What’s wrong?

Things have been better in the three years since her time in Texas. Gwyn suspects it’s partly TK’s influence—he’s been more than enthusiastic in getting to know his baby brother, and Isaac has latched onto TK despite only seeing him in person every few months or so. But they’ve talked as well, she and Owen, and they really are doing better. They’re almost like friends now, which is why Gwyn thinks nothing of it when he calls just after she’s put Isaac to bed for the night.

“Owen, hey,” she greets. “What’s up?”

The silence she’s answered with is the first sign that something’s wrong.

The sob that follows is the second.

“Owen?” Gwyn repeats, louder this time, her heart leaping into her throat. She sits down heavily on the sofa as she waits for Owen’s response; there’s only one thing that could make him cry like that, and tears prick at Gwyn’s eyes as she imagines TK hurt again, or worse.

“Gwyn,” Owen eventually manages to gasp out, voice wrecked. “Gwyn, it’s TK. He’s… You need to get here. You need— It’s not like last time. They don’t know if he’s going to— They don’t think— It’s bad. Really bad.”

Owen breaks off, crying harder, and Gwyn claps a hand to her mouth. She remembers well how devastated he’d been when he called about the gunshot, but this a whole other level. Gwyn’s head spins with the potential implications of that and she finds her breath coming in sharp gasps, but it’s Owen’s next words that knocks it from her altogether.

“They think we should say goodbye.”

The rest of the story comes haltingly—someone got angry after his son couldn’t be saved on a call, he came to the firehouse, he attacked TK—but Gwyn barely hears it. Her boy is in the hospital again and this time…this time he might not be coming home. She can’t understand it; she spoke to him just two days ago, they made plans for he and Carlos to visit for Isaac’s birthday, and now…

“I’m so sorry, Gwyn,” Owen finishes. She feels a flash of that age-old urge to scream at him, but she fights it off, not wanting to wake Isaac.

“I’ll be on the first flight over,” she promises, then ends the call, sliding off the couch to the floor. Her phone falls from limp fingers and harsh sobs tear from her throat, muffled by the press of her fist against her mouth.

Enzo finds her there an hour later and immediately takes her in his arms, not complaining about her tears soaking his shirt. When she tells him what happened, he insists on joining her, and Gwyn allows herself to take that shred of comfort and run with it.

She thinks it’s the only comfort she’s likely to get right now.

The next flight isn’t until morning, so Gwyn spends a sleepless night packing and unpacking their suitcases and making phone calls with the firm and her clients to cancel everything for the foreseeable. She has the brief, terrible thought about whether she should pack funeral attire, which almost sends her into a panic attack as reality hits her all over again.

Enzo saves her from it, gently guiding her to bed, but not before she packs the clothes anyway.

Isaac seems to pick up on her mood when they’re hurrying out of the house, remaining mostly quiet aside from the odd question about where they’re going. He perks up considerably when he finds out they’re heading to Austin, babbling about seeing TK, and Gwyn has to blink hard to keep from crying again. Enzo reaches over to take her hand, and he barely lets go until they’re landing in Austin.

The entrance to the ICU looms before her, and Gwyn feels stuck. There had been a part of her, still, that had hoped to find TK miraculously awake and on the mend, like the last time she had made this trip. She doesn’t want to believe that he’s here, hurt, maybe dying.

But he is, and she’s forcefully reminded of that fact when a kind-looking nurse approaches her hesitantly.

“Ma’am? Can I help you?”

Gwyn blinks at her, her brain taking a moment to catch up. “I, um. I’m here to see my son. TK Strand.” She pauses, then shakes her head, cursing herself internally. “Tyler Kennedy Strand.”

The nurse’s entire demeanour changes, a sympathetic smile taking over her face. “This way.” She leads Gwyn through the ICU, then points at a door near the end of the corridor. “Tyler’s room is just there. I promise, we’re doing everything we can for him.”

Gwyn nods absently, her gaze stuck on the door the nurse had indicated. She walks forward slowly, the room seeming to get further and further away until, suddenly, she’s standing on the threshold, and she sees her son.

TK is barely visible, his face half-obscured by the ventilator, half by bruises, and heavy gauze covers his forehead. His arms, resting limply at his sides, are littered with scrapes, and if Gwyn squints, she can just about make out more bandages peeking out from under the hospital gown.

She’d thought that seeing him would make it all real, but she feels separate from everything somehow, only one thought going through her mind on repeat.

This is not my son.

A quiet whisper draws her attention to the figure sitting at TK’s side. Gwyn has to suppress a gasp as she takes in Carlos’s appearance; she hasn’t seen him in person since the wedding last year, and his pale face and red-rimmed eyes cut a stark contrast to that day. He hasn’t noticed her yet, wholly fixated on TK, one hand gently stroking the tufts of hair poking out above the bandage. His lips move and Gwyn knows she should walk away, but instead she finds herself leaning closer, straining to hear Carlos’s words.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he’s saying. “I know you’re fighting and I know you’re going to try as hard as you can to come back to us—believe me, Ty, I am praying every day to see those pretty green eyes of yours open again. But I—I want you to know that it’s okay if you can’t. If it gets too hard, if you need to let go, you can. I already miss you like crazy and I really, really, don’t want to live the rest of my life without you, but the thing I can’t stand more than that is the idea of you suffering.

“Come back if you can, but if someday you find you can’t, remember that I love you and we’ll be okay. I promise.”

Carlos sniffs and ducks his head to place a gentle, lingering kiss on TK’s cheekbone. It’s such a tender, intimate moment, but it quickly shatters when Carlos looks up and spots her, his eyes going wide. “Gwyn. I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you were there.”

She waves him off, willing herself to finally step into the room. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I should have said something, but I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Carlos nods, giving her a small, sad smile, which Gwyn does her best to return. She pulls up another chair and sinks into it, reaching out to take TK’s hand. She’s startled by the coolness of his skin, and more tears burn in the back of her eyes.

“What did the doctors say?” she asks, clearing her throat and twisting her body towards Carlos, though her eyes never leave TK.

“That it was a miracle he made it through surgery,” Carlos says, sighing wearily. “Eight stab wounds, too much blood loss, damage to his organs, broken ribs—that’s all bad enough, but they’re most worried about his brain. He took at least two blows to the head, and add that to the fact he wasn’t breathing for a good few minutes… They keep saying not to speculate, but we all know the odds here.”

Carlos’s voice breaks and Gwyn reaches out to comfort him, feeling sick to her stomach at the revelation. Why anyone would do this to her boy, she can’t comprehend; she finds herself both wanting answers and feeling unable to take any more.

Owen chooses that moment to appear in the doorway, looking every bit as wrecked as he sounded on the phone. “Gwyn,” he says roughly. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Carlos moves as if to give them privacy, but Gwyn shakes her head at him, cutting off his protests before he can even get them out. “You stay with him, Carlos,” she tells him. “We’ll talk in the hall.”

They head to a quiet spot not too far from TK’s room, and Gwyn turns to face Owen, holding her arms. “What the hell happened, Owen? Why is our son lying in there, not even breathing on his own?”

A flicker of a frown crosses Owen’s face. “I told you—”

“No, you didn’t.” Gwyn clenches her jaw, staring him down. “You said he’d been attacked, not that some maniac had used him as their personal punching bag.”

A few more seconds pass before Owen relents, sighing. “There was a call,” he starts, voice heavy with sorrow. “A car accident; dad and his kid were trapped inside. We got the dad out but the son was stuck pretty good. It took a long time to free him and by then it was too late—EMS did their best, but he was gone.

“The dad went ballistic, screaming at all of us, but especially at TK. We don’t really know why, but it was probably a convenience thing; TK had been the one to break the news, he was the closest person—the guy wasn’t exactly thinking clearly. He threatened him, tried to hit him—the cops had to arrest him eventually, but you know TK. He refused to press charges, said that the dad was just in shock and that he understood.”

Gwyn smiles a little at that; her son has always been too forgiving for his own good. It’s never come back to hurt him this badly before, though.

Owen pauses, throat bobbing as he seems to work up to the next part. His voice is quiet, and he seems reluctant to meet Gwyn’s eyes. “He showed up at the firehouse a week later—the dad, I mean. He said he wanted to apologise and, I swear, Gwyn, he really did seem genuine. None of us wanted to let him near TK, but ultimately it was TK’s decision. They went round the side of the house to talk; when neither of them came back after twenty minutes, we went looking.

“By that time, the guy was gone, and TK was…” He stops and shakes his head, swallowing hard. “He could barely breathe. Tommy and Nancy did what they could and they got him here quickly, but we have no idea how long he’d been like that before we found him.”

Gwyn’s head snaps up, a white-hot anger flashing through her. “I can’t believe you,” she hisses. “You left our son alone with a man who had already threatened him for twenty minutes, Owen.”

Owen frowns. “I told you, he seemed genuine. And TK—”

Gwyn can’t help it; she slaps him. “Don’t you dare,” she grounds out, crowding into Owen’s space. “Don’t you dare act like this was his fault.”

“I wasn’t—”

Her arm moves on instinct, but before she can connect again, a hand closes around her wrist. Gwyn turns to find Enzo staring at her, brow wrinkled in confusion.

“Gwyn, what’s going on?”

She shakes her head and takes a step back from Owen, freeing herself from Enzo’s grasp. “What’s going on,” she responds tightly, “is that he is part of the reason why my son is half-dead in there.”

Enzo gapes between them. “What?”

She ignores the question, needing to focus on anything else to keep her anger from overwhelming her. “What are you doing here anyway? Where’s Isaac?”

“He’s with Grace and Judd, they offered to babysit so I could come here. What—”

“Hang on,” Owen interrupts. “What is he doing here? I figured he’d stay in New York with the kid.”

“Isaac is TK’s brother, Owen,” Gwyn says, turning on him again. “And Enzo has just as much right to be here as any of us; he was more of a father to TK than you were sometimes.”

Owen’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “Him? You’re joking, right?”

Gwyn isn’t sure what happens next, who starts it, but soon they’re all yelling, insults and accusations flying around the ward. There’s a furious nurse heading their way, but before she can say anything, another voice cuts through the argument, quiet and trembling but still somehow powerful.

“Get out,” Carlos says. “All of you.”

They all turn to him, Gwyn’s lips parting in shock. Owen takes a step towards him, holding his hands out in a gesture that’s probably meant to be pacifying.

“Carlos—”

“I mean it, Owen,” he snaps, harsher than Gwyn has ever heard him before. “You all screaming at each other is the last thing any of us needs, least of all TK. The only person to blame in all this is the guy who attacked him, and he’s already in custody; he’ll get what’s coming to him. If TK—” Carlos breaks off, clenching his jaw and staring down at the floor. He closes his eyes for a moment, before breathing out shakily and looking back up at them. “If anything changes, I’ll call you, I promise. But you can’t be here right now. Go, please.”

Carlos doesn’t wait for a response before turning on his heel and going back into TK’s room, reassuming his position next to the bed. Gwyn watches him for a second, nodding when Enzo pointedly takes her elbow.

“He’s right,” she says, directed at Owen. “We should go.”

Owen glares, gearing up to argue again, but he must think better of it as he suddenly slumps, all the energy draining out of him. “Right,” he mutters. “Right.”

They file slowly out of the ICU, closely watched by the hard eyes of the nurse from before. Gwyn spares one last look before forcing herself forwards; if getting here was hard, walking away is a thousand times worse.

Three weeks pass with no change and, crucially, no improvement. Gwyn spends more time with Carlos than she ever has before, and she hates that it’s her son being comatose that has brought the two of them closer. A tentative peace exists between her and Owen and she knows—truly, she knows—that the attack wasn’t his fault, that there was nothing that could have stopped it.

But she can’t help but be angry that, once again, her son was seriously hurt and she wasn’t around.

She takes Isaac to see TK once, when the worst of the bruises have faded a little. She worries that he’ll be scared, and he does seem to hesitate when they reach the room; in truth, Gwyn hadn’t wanted to bring him at all, but he’d kept asking about TK and she’d found herself helpless to do anything but acquiesce.

They still haven’t told him what’s going on. No-one knows how to. All Isaac knows is that TK is a little hurt and he needs rest, and even that knowledge seems to upset him.

Once he gets used to the sight, Isaac stretches his hands out to the bed. “TK,” he says simply, looking pleadingly up at Gwyn.

She hugs him close, trying to smile for him. “TK’s asleep, sweetie,” she explains. “He needs rest.”

“When wake up?”

“I don’t know, baby. I don’t know.”

Three weeks pass, and the doctors start talking about options and next steps. It’s obvious what that’s code for—they want to pull the plug. They’re told to take all the time they need to discuss it but, ultimately, the decision will be Carlos’s, as TK’s husband and next of kin.

Gwyn knows what choice he’s going to make; it’s the same one she, or anyone else in his position, would make.

That doesn’t make it any easier to bear, for any of them.

Gwyn finds him in the hallway, bent over with his head in his hands. She goes over and quietly sits in the chair next to him, placing a comforting hand on his back.

There’s a long silence before Carlos sniffs and turns to her, his face the picture of devastation. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this, Gwyn,” he whispers, voice cracking. “How am I supposed to just give up on him like that?”

She shakes her head. “You’re not giving up on him, Carlos. You’re letting him go.”

“I don’t know how to do that either.”

“None of us do.”

Silence again, but this time, it’s Gwyn that breaks it first. “Listen, Carlos, I know this is hard. God knows I wish none of us were even here. But we are, and we have to do what’s best for everyone, including TK.”

“I know that,” Carlos admits. “I just don’t want to lose him.” He closes his eyes and leans into Gwyn, allowing her to wrap him in a hug. “I wish we had more time.”

Gwyn’s heart breaks all over again, and she squeezes his shaking shoulders. “We’ve got time,” she says, though she knows that’s not what he meant. “As much as you need.”

The sob she’s answered with tells her there’s not enough time in the world for Carlos to say goodbye to TK.

The call comes in the middle of the night. Dread pools in Gwyn’s gut as she accepts it and lifts the phone to her ear, her hands trembling.

“Owen?”

“Gwyn. TK, he—he woke up. It was only for a few seconds, but he woke up, Gwyn. The doctors said it was a miracle; they think he might actually recover.”

Gwyn gasps, a sob crawling up her throat as the news sinks in. It’s everything she’s been praying for ever since that first call, and all she can think about now is getting to TK.

“I’ll be at the hospital in fifteen,” she says. She ends the calls and raises her hands to her face, wiping away the tears beginning to fall from her eyes.

Maybe this nightmare is finally coming to an end.

TK is off getting tests when Gwyn arrives, but she’s finally allowed back in the room an hour later, Carlos and Owen on her heels. The ventilator has been removed, replaced by a nasal cannula, and his eyes are open—barely to slits, but Gwyn doesn’t care. TK is awake and alive, and that’s all that matters.

As soon as she’s in the chair by the bed, she reaches out for him, her touch feather-light as she strokes his cheek. “My brave boy,” she whispers wetly. “My brave, brave boy.”

TK’s head rolls on the pillow so he’s facing her and he mumbles something that’s probably meant to be a greeting, but the words jumble together and come out as gibberish.

Gwyn thinks it’s the most beautiful sound she’s ever heard.

They’ve all been briefed about the risks of brain damage and all the potential lasting consequences which could impact the rest of TK’s life. But right now, as she holds TK’s hand with Carlos on his other side and Owen at her back, Gwyn chooses to take solace in the constant rise and fall of TK’s chest and the heart monitor beeping out a steady rhythm.

There’ll be enough time for worry later; for now, her son is alive, and Gwyn can’t think of anything else that's more important.

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takahero · 3 years ago

Text

some descriptions of Basta in Inkheart if you’re interested!! spoiler warning just to be on the safe side, in case u haven’t read it. and my unsolicited commentary here and there

“‘Naturally I recognised them at once. Capricorn had sent his best men. Even Basta was with them.’” — pg.99

“Rasping cat’s-tongue voice” pg.125

“(Basta’s face) was thin, sharply angular, with close-set eyes…Basta was not a tall man, and his shoulders were almost as narrow as a boy’s, but Meggie held her breath when he took a step towards her…He had an aura of fury about him, or something keen and biting—” pg.126

“Only Basta wore a snow-white shirt, just as Dustfinger had said, with a red flower in the buttonhole of his jacket, a red flower like a warning.” pg.131

“He caught her eye, and with a twisted smile kissed the blade of his knife.” — pg.173 (I JUST HAD TO ADD THIS)

“‘Oh, Basta can’t write,’ replied Capricorn calmly. ‘None of my men can either read or write. I’ve forbidden them to learn.’” — pg.176 (literacy rights for Basta 2k21)

“She could see the trepidation even on Basta’s face, although he was doing his best to hide it by assuming a particularly bored expression.” — pg.185

“‘Abduction!’ Basta savoured the word. ‘Sounds good to me. Really good.’” — pg.192 (ok but if u read it a certain way. unofficial evidence that basta would enjoy reading if he could LMAO)

“‘Where’s our luggage?’ she asked.

“Dustfinger looked at her with amusement. ‘I expect Basta’s divided it out among Capricorn’s maids. He likes to ingratiate himself with them.’” — pg.213 LMAOOOOOOO OH MY GOD

“Basta was still standing in the road. His face was sharply outlined when he lit a cigarette with a lighter.” — pg.215

“And he bent down to cut through the leather thong that Basta wore around his neck. It had a little bag tied with a red drawstring hanging from it.” — pg. 231

“‘Ah, Basta!’ Fenoglio smiled. Each of his separate wrinkles expressed self-satisfaction. ‘One of the best villains I ever thought up. A rabid dog, but not half as bad as my other dark hero, Capricorn. Basta would let his heart be torn out for Capricorn, but his master is a stranger to such loyalty.’” — pg.264

“‘You know, if you were to ask me which of those two I was prouder of, Basta or Capricorn, I couldn’t tell you! Even though some critics said they were just too nasty!’” — pg.265

“Basta emphasised the word, putting his foxy face so close to Meggie’s she could see herself reflected in his eyes.” — pg.301

“‘You’ll do no such thing!’ he spat at Flatnose, as the grey cat disappeared under the wardrobe. ‘Killing cats is unlucky. How often do I have to tell you?’” — pg.303 (friendly reminder that the last time he appeared, he kicked a dog in the ribs 😐)

“Basta was walking just behind her, and she heard him quietly cursing the rain.” — pg.304 (irrelevant but i kind of hc basta to like the rain, since it would dampen dustfinger’s showbiz LMAO)

“Basta’s eyes always narrowed when he smiled.” — pg.305

“‘You wear long sleeves,’ Fenoglio continued very slowly, as if giving Basta time to take in every single word, ‘because your master likes playing with fire. You burned both arms right up to the shoulders when you obeyed his orders and set fire to the house of a man who had dared to refuse his daughter to Capricorn. Ever since then, someone else has laid the fire, and you confine yourself to playing games with knives.’” — pg.308

“‘Oh, I know all about you, Basta,’ he said. ‘I know you’d give your life for Capricorn any day, and you’re always hungry for his praise. I know you were younger than Meggie when his men picked you up, and ever since you’ve loved him like a father. But shall I tell you something? Capricorn thinks you’re stupid, and despises you for it. He despises you all, his devoted black-clad sons, although it’s his own doing that you’re still so ignorant. And he wouldn’t hesitate to set the police on to any one of you if it was to his advantage. Are you quite clear about that?’” — pg.308 (FENOGLIO…..RUTHLESS)

“Basta winked at Meggie.” — pg.310 (wink 1)

“Every cruel deed with which he had ever credited Basta was probably going through his head. Basta relished the fear on his face for a few delicious minutes.” — pg.312

“Basta’s car had not been in the car park at all since they’d come here. It was unusual for it to be gone so long, because Basta didn’t like to be away from the village for any length of time.” — pg.318 basta is a homebody guys

“‘Save your tongue for later, scribbler!” Basta interrupted. ‘I don’t like whispering.’” — pg.324

“Almost all the women in the village kept away from Basta, but he didn’t keep away from them.” — pg.337

“‘Take him, for instance,’ he said, pointing to Basta. ‘I always knew he was a very unhappy boy before you picked him up. As it says in another very fine book, it’s terribly easy to persuade children that they are worthless. Basta was convinced of it. Not that you taught him any better, oh no! Why would you? But suddenly here was someone to whom he could devote himself, someone who told him what to do — he’d found a god, Capricorn, and if you treated him badly, well, who says that all gods are kindly? Most of them are stern and cruel, wouldn’t you agree? I didn’t write all this in the book. I knew it, that was enough.’” — pg.345 (this is really the part that made my stance toward basta change. like PHEW. that’s a lot to unpack)

“Basta was notorious for his silent tread.” — pg.363

“Basta’s breath smelled of mint, fresh and sharp. Apparently a girl he’d once wanted to kiss had told him he had bad breath. The girl had regretted it, but ever since then Basta chewed peppermint leaves from morning to night.” — pg.364

“He whistled softly through his teeth, then held the book close to Meggie’s face.”— pg.374 (i was rendered speechless)

“Basta’s lips quivered with annoyance, but he bit back his reply and, without a word, put his hand under the black cloth.” — pg.377 (ugh I loved this. like we know he worships capricorn like a dog, but earlier fenoglio flat out told him capricorn couldn’t care less about what happened to him. more than that, capricorn asked basta to bring meggie and fenoglio — prisoners — into his home. later dustfinger says that basta would’ve slept on the threshold of capricorn’s room if he could but none of the men sleep there. so with all of this fresh in his mind, you can imagine him feeling quite hurt and betrayed. UGH I wish he had a greater arc surrounding capricorn…like even if we saw a few hints that his loyalty was starting to show cracks…idk what his arc is in inkspell so maybe I’ll sit tight for that)

“He was in a hurry to get back to the light of day, away from the dead and their ghosts. His hand shook as he hung his lantern on a book and opened the grating over the first cell.” — pg.409

“Dustfinger was always surprised to find how easily you could scare the man with a few words.” — pg.409 LMAOOOOO

“‘That notion of burning us isn’t a very new idea, Basta, but then you were never fond of new ideas.’” — pg.422

“His teeth were almost as white as his shirt.” — pg.442

“Meggie saw from his face that everything in him felt revulsion, but he came closer and took the creature. He held the scaly body well away from him as it wound and twisted in the air.

“‘As you see, Basta doesn’t care for my snakes!’ said the Magpie, with a smile. ‘He never did, not that that means much. As far as I know Basta doesn’t like anything but his knife. He also believed that snakes bring bad luck, which of course is pure nonsense.’ Mortola handed Basta the second snake. Meggie saw the viper’s tiny poison fangs when it opened its mouth. For a moment, she almost felt sorry for Basta.” — pg.446

“‘Basta likes to use snakes to scare women who reject his advances. It didn’t work with Resa. How did it go exactly — didn’t she finally put the snake outside your door, Basta?’” — pg.446 (10/10 resa & snake well-deserved)

“Basta did not want neighbours. Indeed, he wanted no other company but Capricorn’s. Dustfinger knew Basta would have slept on the threshold of Capricorn’s room if he had been allowed to, but none of the men lived in the main house.” — pg.478

“Basta was probably the only man in Capricorn’s village who locked his front door.” — pg.480

“They said in the village that whenever Capricorn had a house set on fire Basta took away a brick or stone, even though he feared fire at other times, and clearly that story was true.” — pg.480

“(Everything in Basta’s house was scrubbed clean, as spotless as his snow-white shirt.)” — pg.481

“Once or twice, footsteps approached, but each time they passed by the house. What a good thing Basta had no friends.” — pg.482

“Basta was not in a good way. Whenever they looked at him they saw his hands clinging to the bars, knuckles white under his sun-tanned skin.” — pg.503 (BASTA’S SUNTANNED?!?!)

“Basta in particular was the object of enough scorn and derision for ten men, and from his failure to react at all one could only guess at the depths of his despair.” — pg.503

“For the fraction of a second life came back into Basta as his former lord and master stopped by the bars; he raised his head, his eyes pleading silently, like a dog begging for forgiveness…Basta only bowed his head and stared at the floor. Elinor thought he looked like an oyster with the flesh and life sucked out of it.” — pg.504 (i honestly still can’t wrap my head around his behaviour in this chap. i mean yes, the gladiator-style death sentence looming over his head can’t be understated. but i think for me it was how rapidly his spirits deteriorated from screaming for help in the cell to becoming a husk of a man before he even saw capricorn again? how?? was it all because of dustfinger spooking him so bad in the crypt?? 🤔🤔)

#the list nobody asked for #im gonna keep adding and editing for personal reasons #it’ll be interesting to see if any of my thoughts change after inkspell tho I’m kinda scared #basta #i could’ve sworn there was another wink!!!!!!!!! I SWEAR #basta: don’t swear oaths u can’t keep #inkheart

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