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pengychan · 1 year ago

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[Good Omens] Come What May, Ch. 5

Summary: While completely improvised, Gabriel’s plan to transfer his memories in the container fly before erasure was rather solid. It came very close to working, too. But ‘close’ was not enough. [SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2] Characters: Gabriel, Beelzebub, Crowley, Aziraphale, Muriel, Michael, Uriel, Saraquael Rating: T All chapters will be tagged as ‘come what may’ on my blog.

[Back to Prologue]

A/N: Officer Muriel is on the case, Gabriel is on a date, and Crowley is on the brink of a nervous breakdown.

***

All right, Muriel thought, so maybe things had changed more than a little since the handbook had been published in 1923. There were significantly more cars, for one. And the clothing looked different. Specifically, the clothing of police officers looked very, very different.

But that was all right. They could miracle a few adjustments here and there, and then they were ready to go out in the world. Which was, specifically, in London. Even more specifically, in Soho. Muriel had no clue why the elevator led there of all places, but according to the handbook, it wasn’t the worst place on Earth: it wasn’t Florence and and even better, it wasn’t Ohio.

They were not entirely sure where either of those places was or why the handbook so specifically mentioned them as places to avoid at all costs, but that would be an investigation for another time. Now, they had to find Jibreel. They had drawn a very accurate sketch of his face - excellent work, if they said so themself - and surely, someone had to have seen him if he’d been on Earth before, right?

“No, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry, never seen him.”

“Believe me, I’d remember that face.”

“No, officer. I haven’t seen him.”

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen him, no.”

“If you find him, feel free to give him my phone number.”

… All right, this was a bit more complicated than expected. None of the mortals they showed the portrait to had seen Jibreel at all. Or maybe they had and wouldn’t tell them - humans lied sometimes, it said so in the handbook - but what reason would they have to lie to a police officer? Maybe Jibreel had been someplace on Earth that was not London, they reasoned. Hopefully someplace nice. Muriel really didn’t want to find out what was so bad about Ohio, or deal with these ‘insane poets’ Florence was supposedly choke-full of.

“Did he kill someone?” the woman they’d stopped last asked, looking at Jibreel’s face above black-rimmed glasses. “He looks like the kind of bloke who’d kill someone.”

“Wha-- no, no! Absolutely not!” Muriel exclaimed, just a little distressed at the thought anyone could think anything so mean of an angel. “He’s a really nice ang-- person. A very nice person.”

A quizzical look. “If he’s nice, why are the police looking for him?”

Ah, right. The police usually were after criminals. Well, at least on paper. More often than not they were after people of skin tones or socioeconomic status they did not approve of, the handbook said, but they were supposed to go after criminals, too. “He’s… he’s missing, you see. His friends are very concerned.” Well, Muriel was concerned for sure, so it was not a lie. “And I’m trying to find him.”

“Oh. Well then, good luck, hun. Have you checked with the coffee shop?”

“... The coffee shop?”

“That one,” the woman turned, pointing at a building whose front read Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death. Muriel had a vague idea of what death was, and had no clue what ‘coffee’ may be. What was the purpose of making people choose between… whatever that was, and the end of their mortal lives?

Unaware of their thoughts, the mortal was still talking. “Big windows, regulars sitting there day in day out. If the missing man walked through here, someone in the coffee shop might have seen something.”

“Oh! Yes, that’s very very helpful, thank you!” Muriel smiled, and crossed the street toward the coffee shop - entirely failing to notice the being standing near the front window of a bookshop right by, feather duster in hand, waving frantically at them.

***

“Muriel! Hey! I’m here! Guys, it’s Mu--”

“No no no no no-- Jim! Jim, stay here!”

“I’ve got to say hello, they must be looking for me, I told you they’d worry--”

“Crowley! A little help here!”

Had he still not been more than slightly miffed over the entire situation, and more specifically about Gabriel’s presence in the same quadrant of the universe as Aziraphale, Crowley might have found the scene before his eyes funny. Aziraphale’s attempt at physically stopping Gabriel consisted of clinging to his midsection, pretty much, while the aforementioned amnesiac Archangel simply kept walking to the door and dragging him along like he weighed nothing. Crowley chuckled, and leaned on the upstairs railing.

“I mean, this might be a good way to test out Beelzebub’s hiding miracle, no?”

“I don’t want to test things out!” Aziraphale called out, now increasingly distressed as Gabriel reached for the doorknob. The desperation in his voice made Crowley decide to bite back another comment and help out the quickest way he could think of. He was always going to do that, anyway. There was no way in Hell or Heaven that he’d let any celestial or infernal being find out Aziraphale was involved in… whatever was even going on.

Won’t give them an excuse to get their hands on him again.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got this.”

The first hardbound volume of the 1768 edition of Encyclopædia Britannica sailed through the air in an elegant arc, and landed squarely on Gabriel’s head before falling on the ground, quickly followed by Gabriel himself. Whatever noise he may have made was covered by Aziraphale’s distressed groan.

“Did you just hit-- did you just throw-- we’re supposed to help-- that was a first edition …!” He fretted over the book as well as over the quite literally fallen angel, not quite knowing which needed the most care at the moment. In Crowley’s opinion, the book should take precedence; within seconds, a burst of flame and distinct smell of sulfur told him in no uncertain terms that Beelzebub was inclined to disagree with his scale of priorities.

Ah, right. The fly on the wall.

“I had to!” he yelled, turning with his hands up as though surrendering to an enemy army. To be fair, Beelzebub’s face - lips pulled to bare blackened teeth, boils and all in full display as they’d clearly rushed there without making any effort to blend in with humanity - promised more pain than had been collectively dealt through the entirety of both World Wars. “An angel passed by and he was going to go out and greet them!”

“What!” Beelzebub turned away from him, and was down the stairs the next moment. The contrast between the snarl directed at Aziraphale and the gentle cradling of Gabriel’s head in their arms was… something. “What angel? Is it Michael? Uriel?”

“No, no. Apparently it was his, er, newest superior? Muriel.”

“... A scrivener?”

“Of the 37th class,” Aziraphale specified, causing the Lord of the Flies to wrinkle their nose.

“Heaven surely has fallen into hard times if that’s who they send to investigate.”

“If Heaven sent them,” Crowley said, coming down the stairs. He shrugged at the resulting looks. “They walked right past the bookshop, didn’t even look back, and… well, I’d also really expect one of the Archangels to show up, if they were looking for him.”

“So you think the scrivener noticed he was missing, and instead of warning Heaven they came to Earth to look for him themself?”

“Seems possible, no? Maybe they didn’t want to admit that their charge was gone.”

“Is it what you really believe, or what you desperately want to be true?” Beelzebub asked, gaining themself a scowl.

“Both, if you don’t mind,” Crowley snapped. “And besides, this is the kind of information I’d expect to make its way to you - a missing Archangel. We can assume Heaven has no idea he’s gone from their grasp until you hear something through the usual back channels, or--”

“There are no back channels, Michael.”

The mumble was faint, but it caused everyone’s eyes to immediately turn to Gabriel. He was stirring, and blinked up at Beelzebub with those green eyes that looked so very, very wrong on him. Then, he smiled. “Hey,” he said, and Beelzebub smiled back.

“Hey. Is your head all right?” they asked, a hand running through his hair. “Are you… remembering anything?”

He frowned a moment, still on the floor, then shrugged. “Yes, but no. I mean, my head is all right. Don’t think I remembered anything, though,” he added, and tilted his head. “I like what you’ve done with the teeth.”

“The-- ah. Thank you,” Beelzebub said, but they did pass a hand over their face, miracling the boils away and willing their teeth to… well, un-rot. “But this works best to blend in on Earth.”

“I like that, too.”

“Flatterer,” they muttered, and helped him stand. “Are you all right?”

“I think a book fell on me,” Gabriel muttered, rubbing his head. He glanced at the window, but didn’t try to go outside again, nor did he bring up his Muriel. It seemed that even without the powers of Heaven, Encyclopædia Britannica was an effective short term memory wiping instrument. The more you know.

“... Yes. Let’s say it fell on you,” Beelzebub muttered, while Aziraphale made sure the book in question was still in one piece. “It may be best to get away for a while,” they added. They didn’t add ‘while these two figure out why that angel is here’, but the message was still loud and clear.

“Oh.” Gabriel hesitated, looking at the feather duster he’d dropped on the floor. “But I’m dusting.”

“Oh, no matter,” Aziraphale spoke quickly, book under his arm. “You did such an excellent job, I think you should take the rest of the day off.”

“Ah, great!” Gabriel smiled, and looked back at Beelzebub. “Where are we going?”

“... I know a place,” they said, and took his hand. Crowley couldn’t recall a single other time watching someone quite literally disappear before his eyes had been that much of a relief. He groaned, rubbing his forehead.

“Can’t take much more of this,” he muttered. “Sure hope they stay in whatever place they went to, and-- angel? What are you doing?”

Aziraphale shrugged, putting on his jacket. “I saw this Muriel getting in Nina’s coffee shop - I suppose we should try to find out what they’re here for, no? Maybe it’s not about Gabriel and this is all a huge coincidence.”

“You’re being much too optimistic, angel.”

“One of us has to be,” Aziraphale replied, all bright as though they were not risking the wrath of Heaven and Hell both to help out their fucking former bosses, both of whom had consistently been several shades of awful throughout the eons. “So, are you coming?”

“Uuugh. Do I have a choice?”

“Well, yes. You can stay in the shop and watch me go on my own, all alone, to face the danger.”

“A scrivener of the 37th class is no danger,” Crowley pointed out, but of course he was already halfway down the stairs, pretending not to have noticed how awfully pleased with himself Aziraphale looked.

***

“... And they said that Beelzebub is dragging their feet for no reason?”

“Yes. To which I replied--”

“Beelzebub does nothing without reason.”

“Bingo. And speaking of reasons, do you know what reason they’re giving for the fact they no longer have a Supreme Archangel?”

“Surprise me.”

“No comment.”

“... Is that you not wanting to comment, or was it them who won’t--”

“It’s Heaven not wanting to comment. Well, at least Archangel Ariel--”

“I believe that’s Uriel.”

“Whatever she’s called. She’s giving no explanation, and the rest of Heaven isn’t either.”

“This is unprecedented. I’m not surprised Beelzebub is unwilling to proceed, with Heaven obviously hiding something.”

“Well. If that is the case, I believe there might be a promotion in the air for the demon, or demons, who can solve this mystery and give our Grand Duke some answers.”

“I assume you’re talking about us.”

“You know, I’m trying to keep an aura of mystery here, but you’re making it really difficult.”

Shax, who at the moment had no time to worry about any kind of aura, mysterious or otherwise, chose to entirely ignore Furfur’s complaint. “Who else in Hell is aware of this?”

“No one that I know of. Beelzebub aside, I mean. Obviously they know.”

“Then we have an advantage. I’ll try to find out more. Call me if you have more news.”

“Yes, yes. Hey, how about a thank you ?”

“Oh, no need to thank me.”

“No, I mean, I gave you the tip--”

“Save your it for when we’re dukes of Hell,” Shax cut him off, and ended the call. Yes, saying thank you would have probably been nice, but you don’t become Hell’s representative in London by being nice. Or at least she hadn’t. How Crowley had made it despite a very obvious soft spot for Earth as well as an angel was a whole other can of worms she had never much cared to open.

Shax had been much too focused on the chance to take his place to wonder about it. Furfur, on the other hand, had been so vindicated when he’d turned out to be a traitor - and working with the same angel he’d caught him with before, no less! - that he hadn’t shut up about it for a year, until the Dark Council had finally recognized his attempt at warning them about Crowley and given him a promotion. That was when Shax had truly realized she and Furfur were after two different things, after all. She wanted power; he was looking to get a pat on the back and a ‘good job’ every once in a while.

… Maybe she would thank him. Later. Once she’d made some progress on an investigation she had absolutely no idea how to get started with.

Called to a new task, was Heaven’s line regarding their missing Supreme Archangel, but it didn’t take a lot of guesswork to tell it was corporate speech for forcibly terminated employment. What else would they be so keen to hide? And yet, in all other cases where a forcible termination had happened - ten million cases at once, really - the forcibly terminated had found himself in Hell with blackened wings. If that had occurred to the Archangel Gabriel it would be the talk of the century in Hell, so Shax felt safe enough to discount that possibility.

That left only two possibilities, as far as she could tell: demotion, or desertion. Both unheard of, really. Unprecedented, as Furfur had said… but after a demon and an angel somehow stopped Armageddon and proceeded to survive holy water and hellfire respectively, Shax supposed they were indeed living through unprecedented times.

***

“Um… hi! I’m sorry to ask, but--”

“One skinny latte, coming up.”

“No-- I mean, yes. Yes to the skinny latte, but that’s not… I was sitting in my shop, and I er, just happened to look this way. Through your window. Once or twice. And I noticed… er… I was wondering…” Maggie hesitated, mentally cursing herself for all the stammering. Nina looked back at her from behind the counter, one eyebrow raised and a carton of milk in hand.

“... Are you all right?”

“Yes!” Maggie exclaimed, smiling. “How did you guess that’s what I wanted to ask?”

“I… didn’t. I was asking you. You’re acting odd.”

“Oh.” With the possibility the ground would open up to swallow her sadly very, very remote, Maggie shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be weird. I just noticed you were kind of looking like you were not having your best day ever, and wanted to ask if all’s good.”

This time, Nina looked genuinely surprised. “Ah. Yes, I… well. No, not my best day ever, but not the worst either. It’s just--” a jingle interrupted her, and she glanced over to her phone. A long sigh, and it didn’t escape Maggie how her shoulders dropped. “Lindsay is… having a moment. I’ll get your skinny latte in a sec--”

“Hello hello hello!”

Both Nina and Maggie turned to the entrance to see what looked like a police officer who had dipped their uniform either in white paint, or in the most potent bleach known to man. The smile that greeted them was about as blindingly white.

“Bet you twenty quids this one is going to ask for a glass of milk,” Nina muttered, and Maggie bit her lip not to burst laughing. Not having heard the comment - or having elected to ignore it - the officer spoke again.

“I am carrying out an investigation! Do you mind me asking a few questions to the… patrons of this… fine… establishment?” they asked, looking around at the grand total of three people sitting inside. Nina shrugged.

“Knock yourself out,” she said, only to gain herself a confused look.

“Knock myself…?”

“It means you may go right ahead,” Maggie clarified, and the smile was back.

“Thank you! Jolly good! Do you mind if I start with you?”

“Uh. Sure?” Maggie muttered, and Nina made a noise that was almost a chuckle.

“I’ll get your skinny latte done while you’re getting grilled by the police,” she muttered.

“Heh. If I don’t get arrested.”

“Don’t worry, you’re a bit too pale to be arrested for a minor crime like bad taste in coffee.”

Ah. “You think I have bad ta--” Maggie began, but Nina had already turned to the coffee machine and the officer was putting something on the counter. It was… a drawing?

“I am looking for this person,” the officer said. “Not in a bad way. I mean, he’s not a criminal. And he certainly didn’t kill anyone!”

“Oh. That’s-- reassuring?”

“Yes, he’s a very nice bloke! He’s not in trouble or anything. I mean, I’m trying to find him so he doesn’t get in trouble. You understand.”

Maggie understood exactly nothing, particularly with half her brain still fixated on the idea Nina did not approve of her taste in coffee, but she nodded along and looked at the drawing on the counter. It was really well made and, while men never exactly held her attention, she had to admit this one was very good looking. “I’m sorry, I haven’t--” she began, only to suddenly trail off. She squinted, looking at the features more closely. “Wait, I… might have seen him?”

“Oh!” The officer perked up, if it was even possible to get any perkier, and seemed a moment away from jumping up and down on the spot in sheer excitement. “That’s a clue!”

“Well… yes, it could be a lead, just…” Maggie stared, squinting at the portrait once again, then slowly shook her head. “I can’t shake off the feeling I have seen him, but… I can’t recall where. Or when. Maybe just… walking by? Probably around here, my shop is right across the street and I live nearby…”

“So he was here!”

“I said that I might have seen him, and if so it was probably around here. I can’t be sure--”

“It’s still a clue!” the officer exclaimed, and scribbled something on the back of a piece of paper. On the other side, there was… another drawing. Maggie tilted her head.

“Is that the Resurrectionist?”

“Huh?” The officer looked up, blinking. “You… oh! You know what this building is? He drew it before he disappeared.”

The drawing was slapped on the counter, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. Not a portrait, but very obviously the front of a pub that Nina was pretty sure she’d recognized. Hard to forget a place that keeps sending you one record after the other, all identical, claiming that they had ‘changed into the jukebox’.

“I believe so. It’s a pub in Edinburgh, quite famous.”

“Edinburgh! Brilliant! I’ll find Edinburgh, and the pub, and-- maybe that’s where he is!” a delighted laugh, and the officer gathered up both drawings before running out of the coffee shop, not even bothering to question anyone else present.

“What was that?” Maggie muttered, taken aback. The response she got was a noncommittal hum, and the sound of a mug being put down on the counter.

“Probably some weirdo playing copper.”

“Yes, I guess-- oh. They're talking with Mr. Fell and his… friend?”

“Who, Eight Shots?”

“Is that what you call him?”

“Well, how else do you call someone who orders eight shots of espresso?”

“I always called him Dark and Broody,” Maggie admitted, and took her latte. “Um, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I added some cinnamon,” Nina added, tilting her head towards the mug. “You look like someone who likes cinnamon.”

Maggie, who indeed loved cinnamon, flushed a little. Oh no, she didn’t approve of cinnamon either, did she? She’d probably make fun of her order the second she stepped out, wouldn’t she? “I… yes, I like it very much. So, you don’t approve of latte?”

“I always approve of latte. I don’t agree with the skinny part. Low-fat milk just never gets creamy enough.”

“That’s not true, you make it perfectly creamy!” Maggie blurted out. That caused Nina to raise an eyebrow, and Maggie had just a moment to wish once more that the ground would swallow her before she… smiled. A real smile. It was really nice.

“Thanks. It’s my greatest talent,” Nina laughed, and seemed about to add something else - but her phone jingled again and just like that, the smile was gone. She looked back at it, and looked so very tired. “... Sorry, I really have to deal with this now. You can sit wherever,” she added, and Maggie did, rather saddened by the abrupt end of the conversation and by the frown back on Nina’s face.

But it wasn’t all too bad. They had a nice chat, and there was cinnamon in her latte, and she got to see Nina really smile for the first time. Maybe she could find a way to make that happen again, even if it meant doing something drastic like… like… ordering a latte with full-fat milk. Yes, she’d bite the bullet and do just that, next time.

Her brave resolution made, Maggie took a sip of her latte and glanced out of the window. The officer was still talking to Mr. Fell, while Dark and Broody - or Eight Shots - stood by with the expression of someone who’d rather be having a root canal without anesthesia.

What an odd officer and what an odd couple, she thought, and took another sip.

***

Sometimes - not very often, but sometimes - fate decided to make things easy for Aziraphale. With how the previous twenty-four hours had gone, he had no expectation to get that lucky as he stepped out of his shop, trying to think of a way to find out what this Muriel what doing in Soho without asking directly or arousing suspicion.

Therefore, it was quite a pleasant surprise when the angel in question stepped out of the coffee shop, looked at him in the face, and smiled brightly. “Oh! It’s you!” they exclaimed. It took Aziraphale a moment to remember where he’d already seen them, and most of all when.

“I… we met at the elevator, didn’t we?” he asked, and Muriel nodded, still smiling. They held something in both hands, and he recognized it immediately. “That is…”

“The handbook! Oh, I am going to bring it to the archive, I promise!” Muriel added, as though expecting a scolding. “I just needed to do… some things on Earth, and this was really useful.”

“Oh. I mean-- of course, I don’t mind at all you using it,” Aziraphale said quickly, and smiled. “Although I must say, it is not the most up to date edition. Perhaps you could use a little help with… whatever you’re doing? We’d be happy to help,” he added, gesturing to himself and Crowley. Judging from the way Muriel smiled at him, too, they had no idea who they were talking to. Useful, that.

“Ah, yes. Helpful, that’s my middle name,” Crowley muttered.

“That’s really kind of you! I do need help, as a matter of fact - do you happen to know what part of London Edinburgh is?”

Ah. Well. It seemed help should come in the form of a geography lesson; having clearly come to the same conclusion, Crowley found it appropriate to reply in a heavy Scottish accent. “Edinburgh’s not in London, I’m afraid. Way up north.”

“Oh. So it’s somewhere else in…” a quick look at the handbook, flipping the pages to a very old and not precisely detailed map. “England?”

“Scotland. Further north.”

“Further north… oh! I see it!” They tapped their finger on the spot marking Edinburgh. “It’s this one! Right? It says Edinburgh right here.”

“Aye, that’s it.”

“Brilliant! And, uh… how do I get there?”

“Well, you could go by train or coach…” Aziraphale began, and Muriel’s eyes widened.

“Oh! With horses? I’d like to see one. There seem to be no horses around here.”

“Afraid he means a bus,” Crowley intervened. “They don’t really have horses pulling things anymore. But, they still have trains!”

The disappointed expression vanished from Muriel’s face as quickly as it had come. “Sounds great! Where do I find a train?”

“Well, we could give you a lift to the station,” Aziraphale suggested, still smiling. “Any more ways we can assist you in… what are you here for, by the way? Official Heavenly business?”

Aaand the smile was gone, replaced by an anxious grimace. “Well-- sort of. I am… investigating. On behalf of Heaven,” they added, in the hurried tone that can only suggest nothing at all is being done on behalf of Heaven. To add to Aziraphale’s unusual luck, it seemed that Muriel had a very hard time lying indeed. “I mean… Heaven would approve.”

“Oh?” Crowley tilted his head, an eyebrow raised. “I assume the complete sentence is, ‘Heaven would approve, if they knew’?”

A nervous look around, as though there may be angels listening in, and Muriel gave a quick jerk of their head that Aziraphale supposed they could take as a nod. “You see, I don’t want a… colleague to get in too much trouble,” they said, holding out a portrait. It was Gabriel’s face, of course, but they didn’t even ask them if they’d seen him. They just seemed immensely relieved to see Aziraphale nodding, the very picture of patient understanding.

“That’s really nice of you, looking out for a colleague,” he said, and felt… just a touch guilty at the relief that flooded Muriel’s face.

“Thank you. It didn’t feel nice. I mean, I’m not… It feels an awful lot like I’m sneaking around, but he went missing, and I’m afraid he’s in trouble and that he’ll be in more trouble if Heaven finds out,” they blurted out, causing Aziraphale to wonder if they had any clue how correct they were about that. “So I’m trying to find him before they even notice he’s gone.”

“That’s an excellent idea - no need to cause more trouble than needed, is there?” Crowley spoke up, suddenly all smiles, giving Muriel a light punch on the shoulder. “I like how you’re going about it. So, you think he’s in Edinburgh? You should go there right away. I’ll get you on the first train there.”

A relieved sigh. “Oh, thank you. You don’t know how helpful this is.”

“Told you, helpful is my middle name,” Crowley grinned, and tilted his head towards the Bentley. “Hop in my car, and we’ll go to the train station right away. Not a moment to waste!”

“Of course! Thank you!”

As Muriel ran to the Bentley, Aziraphale turned to look at Crowley. “You never did tell me what the J stands for. What is your middle name?”

“Well, I can tell you it’s not Jim,” Crowley quipped, and looked back at the car. “Can’t believe I’m saying this, but we lucked out. Haven has no idea he’s even gone yet, and the only angel looking for him thinks he’s in Edinburgh for some reason. Sending them there will buy us some time.”

“I wonder what gave them the idea he’s there, of all places.”

“Don’t know, don’t care. It’s convenient, angel. Don’t look into the gifted horse’s mouth,” was the reply, and Aziraphale supposed he could agree with it. As Crowley had said, it was all awfully convenient.

What could this Muriel possibly find out in Edinburgh?

***

“So, uh, Jim. Do you recognize anything about this place? Anything at all?”

Beelzebub did not need to breathe, but it was something they tended to do on Earth, to better pass off as human; now, however, they were holding off on the breathing part as they watched Gabriel look around the street. Truth be told they had thought about taking him to the cemetery, before the statue of himself he’d so loved, his name conveniently written on the stone pedestal.

But it may be too much, too soon; for all the tortures Lord Beelzebub had devised since taking charge of Hell, all the cries they heard on a daily basis, that cry was not something they wanted to hear ever again. Not coming from Gabriel's mouth, and most of all not because of them.

Stop! Please! It hurts!

Unaware of their thoughts, Gabriel frowned, eyes still scanning the road. “No, sorry. I don’t think I remember anything about-- hey! I know that place!”

The pub, of course. Of course. Something in Beelzebub’s chest seemed to loosen just a fraction. However hard Heaven tried, they simply couldn’t wipe all his memories; he was supposed to be a clean slate, and yet he’d clearly managed to hold onto something . Maybe he could reclaim the rest too, after all.

Of course he can. He’s the Archangel Fucking Gabriel.

“Yes, you know that place,” Beelzebub said in the end. They were still holding onto his hand, and gave it a gentle squeeze. He didn’t turn his eyes away from the Resurrectionist, but he squeezed back almost on reflex. “You’ve been here before. Let’s go in. Might jog your memory.”

“Jog…?”

“Yes. It’s this stupid things human do, when--”

“I like jogging,” Gabriel went on, eyes narrowed as though focusing really hard. “Yes, I think… I do like jogging. I did it before. Probably.”

“Oh. Well, then it’s a great thing to do,” Beelzebub said quickly. “So, er… jog you to the pub?”

The jog to the pub was made a little more awkward than it needed to be by the fact Gabriel was not letting go of their hand, but Beelzebub had precisely no intention to let go either. They only did so when it was time to get two pints of beer - Gabriel had found the word funny, for some reason - and sit. To Beelzebub’s surprise, Gabriel took a sip from the glass.

“... You know, last time we were here, you were pretty adamant about consuming nothing,” they pointed out, and almost laughed at the expression that crossed Gabriel’s face the next moment. He wrinkled his nose and stuck out his tongue.

"Blech! Seems like I was right,” he muttered, putting the pint back on the table and looking at it somewhat accusingly. “This doesn’t taste like hot chocolate with cream on top.”

A chuckle, and Beelzebub snapped their fingers to perform a small, small miracle. The beer and foam made way for hot chocolate and whipped cream. “Well, it does now. Try it.”

“Does it? Oh! It does!” A bright smile. “Thank you! I like sweet things. Like flies, no? That thing honey and vinegar? There was something about it in a book at Mr. Fell’s shop.”

Beelzebub, who didn’t get to hear ‘thank you’ very often and who realized just now how desperately they’d missed that smile in the days Gabriel had seemingly disappeared, smiled back. “Depends on the fly. Fruit flies prefer vinegar to honey. But I do like sweet things. I’m expected to, as a demon of gluttony.”

“Gluttony? Oooh, I see! You’re tempting me with the chocolate, right?” He smiled widely, cream and chocolate around his mouth and even on the tip of his nose. He really didn't seem to mind at all that hellish royalty would be tempting him.

“Heh. Sort of. Seems to be working. I’ll get you a napkin.” Their hand was halfway to said napkin when a very familiar song suddenly started playing, getting a groan and a ‘not again’ from the man behind the counter.

Everyday, it's a gettin' closer Goin' faster than a roller coaster…

Gabriel looked up suddenly. “Oh! This song!” he exclaimed. “I love it!”

The something in Beelzebub's chest warming up and clenching painfully at the same time, they worked their jaws for a moment. “I love it too,” they murmured.

Love like yours will surely come my way…

If Gabriel noticed the way their voice had caught a moment, he said nothing of it. “I know the whole song, you know! It popped into my mind while I was in Heaven. I can sing it. Do you want me to sing it?”

Ah. Beelzebub smiled, and reached across the table to rest a hand on his again. “... I’d love to hear it,” they said, and they did. They really did.

***

After dropping Muriel off to the train station - and helping them get a ticket - Crowley had a grand total of five minutes, the time it took to walk back to his car, to think that maybe all would be well after all.

Then, of course, came Shax’s call. He groaned and took it, leaning against the Bentley. “Listen, if this is about the bills again--”

“There’s something going down in the up,” Shax’s voice informed him, coming both from the phone in his right ear and from… well, her own mouth, on his left. Crowley bit back another groan, and ended the call to look back at her. The lesson on how she should either appear from thin air or phone him could wait.

“... In the up, up?” he asked, utterly resigned to the answer.

“Yes. I’m trying to gather some intel. Supreme Archangel Gabriel seems to be the Supreme Archangel no more. The position is vacant and it seems Heaven is hiding something. Do you or your angel know anything about what's going on?”

Oh do we, Crowley thought, and it took him all his willpower not to burst into hysterical laughter right there and then.

***

[Back to Chapter 4]

#good omens #ineffable bureaucracy #ineffable husbands #archangel gabriel #beelzebub #crowley #aziraphale #nina good omens #maggie good omens #muriel #good omens 2 #come what may

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yearofradicalselfbelief · 1 year ago

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Part One - 19/08/23 - the purpose of this blog.

CW: mentions of suicidal ideation (from the past). No gory details, though. Be safe, don't read if it's going to trigger you 💜

Six years ago, I was suicidal. Sometimes depression means actively wanting to die, and sometimes it means just not particularly wanting to be alive, and back then mine got so bad that I toppled strongly, face-first, into the former category. It had been a chronic sort of “thing” for years before that – since my pre-teen years, really – but a combination of lots of concurrent outside events, and an inability to find a doctor who’d listen to me (and therefore medicate me) really sent me spiralling while I was at university, and it culminated in that, by the time I hit my third year. By then, I was leaving my bed only to go to class – on the days I wasn’t too anxious to attend class – I was only writing if not writing would eventually mean answering to an angry course leader, and when I wasn’t forcing myself to sleep until I physically could not sleep any longer (my personal best was a stretch that surpassed twenty-four hours, and I ended up entirely nocturnal at one point, which uh…probably didn’t help), I was wishing I was asleep.

Looking back on it now, none of it actually seems real. It doesn’t seem like a memory, but rather a very, very bad dream. I couldn’t bear being awake, I couldn’t bear being alive, and so I had a plan, and I had a deadline (for lack of less apt phrasing) by which I needed to carry out said plan, and I had the tools I needed for it. All I lacked was the courage. Now that I’m no longer in that headspace, I can absolutely see that courage was not the right word for what I lacked at the time, but it was what I called it back then, as I spent countless days curled up on my bed, staring at the wall in silence, both willing myself to move and forcing myself to stay absolutely still because I was afraid of what I might do if I did eventually find that will to move. It was that grappling, as well as sheer religious faith that my gods were indeed with me, that stopped me from doing something very, very stupid.

As far as the details of that deadline are concerned, I’m not going to get into them because it doesn’t really matter…and I don’t want to offer up any inspiration for people who might currently be struggling with what I grappled with back then. But the deadline approached, the “courage” did not, and I quickly began to realise that I was at a sort of crossroads. Either I’d do it, and…well, no “and”. That was sort of the point, wasn’t it?

Or I wouldn’t do it. That was the only alternative, and as my window of opportunity was beginning to shut, I was having to seriously grapple with the fact that it was really beginning to look like I wouldn’t do it. However deeply and endlessly thankful I am for that fact now, back then it filled me with dread and foreboding. Because not doing it would mean more of the dreaded “this”, and “this” was unbearable. “This” being the way my life was back then. So the only real alternative (other than the one I was failing to work up the “nerve” to turn to when it really came down to it) was to change “this”.

That was when I made a deal with myself – and the making of this deal is the only part of these memories that feels real to me now. The deal was pretty simple. With one of my two “options” there was no half-assing it, and there was no going back afterwards. On a very literal, physically possible level. When you check out, there’s no checking back in. So why did the other option have to be any different? Why did that have to be a half-assed sort of weary existence until some outside force put my out of my misery for me?

No. When I scraped together every little shred of hope that I could muster, I told myself this. That if I chose life (insert Trainspotting montage here), I’d have to really choose life. I’d have to go for what I wanted, all or nothing, and really fucking go for it, because if I was going to throw my hands up and do this thing – and live – I’d have to give it my fucking all, because that was all I was going to accept from myself if I was going to insist on sticking around.

The deadline came and went, and I was still around, so I had to make peace with the deal I’d taken.

And this isn’t a Disney movie, right? The depression didn’t disappear. It was never quite as bad as it got in the run-up to the “deadline”, but it was still bad. As a stroke of luck, a couple of months later I finally got a doctor who would actually listen to me, got me medicated the first day I stepped into her office, and set up weekly follow-up appointments so she could keep an eye on me and be a lifeline while I was on a waiting list for proper mental health services. I also ended up living with my brother full-time (as opposed to between uni semesters, as before) which was a godsend because he's my best friend, and he's been through almost everything I have, as far as family is concerned anyway, so there's an inherent understanding there that I can rarely find with others.

The meds got me sleeping properly again (because after graduation I shifted from sleeping constantly, to sleeping two nights a week maximum – in six hours per night – the rest all coming from fitful naps), and they got me to a place where I could begin doing the work that would help the rest fall into place. Therapy, writing again (writing daily, no less, by the time I’d been on the meds for a year or two), seeing friends, taking joy in things. They also helped me build up the strength that I’d need to face what was still on the way – because between then and now, I had to face untangling myself from an abusive living situation, cutting off family members who I’d once been very close to once I saw (at the behest of a therapist) how their treatment of me had played a very big role in the state I’d ended up in, and then the homelessness that all of that spawned.

Getting better basically coincided with spending a good few consecutive years entirely in survival mode. I kept myself together as best I could, ended up obsessed with constant writing and working out as a way to distract myself from everything else happening on the outside, and I was pretty deservedly proud of myself for my much healthier coping mechanisms than the ones I’d used to get through uni.

When I look at where I was then, and who I was then, compared to now, I’m very proud of what I’ve achieved. My mental health is still very wobbly, but it’s not what it was back then – which was un-fucking-survivable – and now I’m writing again (back then it was a major win if I wrote once a week), in fact I’m writing more than ever. I have a novel in the beta reader stage. I’m exercising weekly now, which I never did back then. I’m happy to be alive now, which is something I never thought I’d be able to say back then.

But I’m still not where I want to be. I mentioned that I’ve just spent a few years living in survival mode – right up until I ended my bout of homelessness and sofa surfing by moving cities (and countries) to come and live with family instead. The thing about survival mode is, though, when you’ve lived like that for so long – longer than I even originally realised – it doesn’t just “turn off”. For months and months after I moved and life settled down, I had to grapple with symptoms of C-PTSD that still crop up every now and then, because my brain doesn’t know how to adjust to quiet and relative peace now.

It took some work to get through that – and honestly I don’t yet know if I am fully through it, it comes and goes – but now, for now, things are quieter, and I’m left at sore risk of growing stagnant now that I’ve let myself have a well-deserved bit of peace and quiet. I’m at risk of forgetting the deal I made with myself.

I’m so used to just surviving, and to being on edge, and to doing all of that against a back-drop of near permanent, crippling self-doubt, that I’ve forgotten how to actually live my life. At present, my life revolves around getting my novel finished and sent to agents, but I’m not even managing that because of that crippling self-doubt that was just a sort of background problem while I dealt with a lot of far more pressing things.

I wouldn’t change anything I’ve been through. Any of it. At all. I learned a lot of lessons from it, but I also now need to accept that I’m not going through any of it anymore. And I need to start building what comes next, because this period of peace that I’ve carved out for myself now is hardly going to last forever. And I keep remembering that damn deal, as I sit back and I let anxiety slow down my novel writing progress to a glacial pace. I know I’m a good writer, but with the novel in particular, every sentence I write is hounded by a constant stream of “this is never going to get published, no publisher will want this”, and given that having books on shelves in shops is my one and only life dream, it’s just no fun to sit and tell myself.

So, this week, I’ve been asking myself what if I just gave myself a year – just one single year – of radical self-belief? What if, for the next year, I approached all of my goals like I couldn’t possibly fail them? What if I just gave myself a fucking chance? A chance I owe to myself from six years ago, who resolved to give my present self a fighting chance at doing this thing?

That’s what I want to do. From now, until September 2024, I want to behave as though I can’t lose. Because that’s the only way I’m going to win. I want to stop fear from tainting every single damn thing I do. And the fear, and the anxiety, and the depression, they’ll still be there. But they don’t have to dictate. They don’t have to paralyse. I’m not saying I think I’ll have achieved all of my life’s dreams 12 months from now, but I am saying I’ll have done far more to get there than I will if I keep allowing the fear to dictate what I do and don’t do. I need a reset. I need to shake off the last few years.

Most of all, I need to keep myself accountable. Because it’s all well and good to vow this sort of thing to yourself, but eventually you forget about it, you get tired, and you default to old ways. I no longer have my WordPress blog up (and honestly I don’t need all of the snoopers from IRL from my WordPress blog to be reading this anyway, because this is far more personal than I’d be willing to get on there), so that’s what I’m doing here. Holding myself accountable, and resolving to do this fucking thing. All of it. Because I deserve it.

I’m not sure if anybody is going to end up reading this – I’m very aware that this first post is a fucking drag in terms of content matter, but I’m still going to be here posting anyway, mostly for myself, and if it ends up helping or entertaining anybody along the way, that’s just a nice rosy bonus. I’ve missed creative non-fiction writing, but my WordPress blog was consistently stalked and hounded by some people from my past that I quite frankly do not want as an audience, or to even be reminded of, so this is my way of reclaiming that for myself, too. 💜

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saiyukiitaliaandinternational · 1 year ago

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For Saiyuki asks :) 12, 13, 22, 29, 40, 55, 68, 69, 74, 75

Hello^^

12) Favorite episode in the TV Series

I have many favourite episodes but one I love the most is Where the Gods Are, Gensoumaden Saiyuki ep. 3

I love how Sanzo Ikkou showed the hypocrisy you can find among religious practitioners starting from their reluctant attitude at letting them stay at the temple and the only reason they are allowed is because of Sanzo's title to their absolute unwillingness to defend themselves if their lives are in serious danger. Sanzo's words were so cathartic to hear because they helped the young Yo to realize that only living and fighting to live allows you to move on.

13) Favorite song (sung by a character or in the animated adaptions)

Late Show and Sanbutsushin (I leave here the audio in case you don't remember it), I love the raw power that this song gives me and the really Buddhist-like vibe the second one has. It really seems I am exploring Tushita Heaven or one of four continents I am about to be reborn during the Bardo of Rebirth.

22) Which character do you think is most like you?

Hakkai is the character has the most traits that characterize me. His intelligent nature and well-mannered attitudes combined with a soft-spoken demeanor are quite relatable to me. He likes to read and learn, and just like me he is full of strange, possibly useless information XD

Unlike him I still can't fully control my rage when it takes over my mind though but just like him my darker side comes out when fueled by a deep feeling of hurt and rage. I am for the most part calm and gentle but if you really pisses me off I can turn into the youkai version of Hakkai.

29) An alternate universe you’d like to see

I would like to see their roles completely swapped XD so Sanzo Ikkou the main antagonists who try to prevent Kougaiji Ikkou to recover the sutras or alternatively Saiyuki characters in a dystopia.

40) Your favorite character became a mythical beast. What would they be?

Yes XD the Sanzuwu. The draw was made by me with Krita and I love drawing corvids

55) Was there a character you used to love but no longer do?

None because my feeling haven't changed over the years.

68) Who, in your opinion, has the most tragic backstory?

Jeez, this is not an easy question because all main four protagonists had a really heavy past and I find difficult to "rank" suffering of such scale because to me they are all equally heavy. Sanzo risked to be raped by some bastard and disgusting bandits and saw his master and father-like figure dying before his eyes, Goku had his memories erased after losing in a very traumatic way the only people who really cared about him and liked him for who he was, Gojyo lived in an abusive family, constantly hit by his stepmother to see her killed by Dokugakuji to whom he had bonded deeply (I don't want to know how he will react in Saiyuki Reload Blast after he will discover what happened to him). Hakkai's story touches deeply delicate topics that still get me thrills every time I recall it. I don't wish anyone an inch of what they all had to go through...

69) Who would be best at pleasing their lover?

I think Hakkai due to his responsible and caring nature. He would be a really great partner with a healthy mind suitable for family life. I hope Gojyo can develop more mature habits in terms of stable relationships because he has the potential to be a great partner due to his compassionate nature (especially towards children) despite it gets buried by his vain nature sometimes.

74) What is the funniest moment in the series?

I would have loved seeing it animated for Urasai XD (at least that bastard had the decency to not put that abomination on Lirin). Damn, I feel bad for them T_T

Another funny moment I like is from the manga (too bad it didn't got animated but at least we have the audio):

Another funny moment I still remember with joy is the 10th episode of Saiyuki Gensoumaden "False Saviors" when Sanzo Ikkou meet their first cosplayers XD (impostors who pretend to be the real Sanzo Ikkou) XD XD XD I know it's a filler episode but it's still funny to me. There are other funny moments especially in Saiyuki Reload Blast anime but I can't remember them all.

75) Who is your favorite minor character?

the youkai girl that kissed Goku. I loved how their interaction evolved when Goku stayed at that youkai village after others and he departed from Sanzo. In this moment Goku finally faced the complex reality of human-youkai relations and how they were tainted even before the Minus Wave incident. In this moment Goku could mature and grow as person thanks to what he witnessed in the village and interaction with this unfortunate girl who lost everything because of prejudice. I just hope she will be fine.

#saiyuki #kazuya minekura #minekura kazuya #feel free to ask me questions #thanks again for these answers!

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mayonnaisetoffees · 1 year ago

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Oversharing on the Internet

Tagged by: @mistmarauder 🧡 (I can respond to these in a timely manner! Who knew? Though I always say waaaaay too much hence the readmore)

ONE: Are you named after anyone? My middle name was for my mum's great-nana I think? Maybe great-grandma and I only think great-nana because we only had a great-nana. But not my first name, no. But fun fact: My parents ONLY had one name for a girl. If my younger sibling had been born a girl they'd have been fuuuucked. (Also part of why I keep my name despite it being v much female-coded because like I earnt this. Also, like... it's my name. It fits me, thought I more often than not get confused seeing it written down because like that's my verbal name, Mayo is my written name.)

TWO: When was the last time you cried? Last week? Little sleep + stress of moving = lots of tears at random times.

THREE: Do you have kids? Nope! Don't have pets either. I wanna foster/adopt/support (probably older kids/teenagers) at some point but not for a few years and I absolutely do not want bio kids. Pregnancy freaks me the fuck out.

FOUR: Do you use sarcasm a lot? Fairly often? I can't even tell anymore tbh like I just talk, even I'm barely paying attention to what I'm saying half the time! Less so online I think (this is where people are like nah mate you do that here too) because it's definitely been misunderstood before - sometimes making me look very daft and I'm like I don't know you people well enough to say that that was what is called a joke

FIVE: What sports have you played/do you play? I never found one I liked apart from, like, bench-ball. The fact that there aren't (that I've found at least) casual places to play bench ball as an adult is a fucking travesty.

SIX: What's the first thing you notice about people? Their smile/laugh/sense of humour? I'm really bad with faces, but if someone laughs or makes a joke pretty soon after I meet them, I remember them a lot more easily. Online it's definitely like the quirks of their writing style.

SEVEN: What's your eye colour? Brown! Pretty dark brown too so like none of the "ooh it's got XYZ in it in the light" it has brown with hints of brown

EIGHT: Scary movies or happy endings? Happy endings - I am the biggest wimp with scary films. I was part of the "let's go hang in the kitchen with the leftover pizza/snacks" gang if horror films came on at a sleepover!

NINE: Any special talents? I'm not the biggest fan of cake, but by god will I make the best cake you've tasted. I can also do a good mix CD (less good at specific playlists because playlists it's just a big mess of great songs) and I can flick through to the right page in a book for a quote pretty easily - drove some people mad in English because people would be trying to find it for like five minutes and I'd just be like drrrrrrrr (idk how to write the noise for fanning through the pages) There!

TEN: Where were you born? At home, south of England (I'm very much Northern, being there for like two memories max one of which was falling asleep indoors doesn't count 😂). I can't remember if it was me or my older brother this happened for, but my mum went into labour in the middle of the night and woke my dad up and was like "The baby is coming" and my dear father went "If you still think so in half an hour, wake me up again" and rolled back over. Needless to say, he was not, in fact, allowed to go back to sleep. He also hates that story so we tell it as often as possible 😇

ELEVEN: What are your hobbies? Uhh I watch a lot of TV? 😂 I need to get more hobbies that get me outside tbh. But I podfic, I knit sometimes when I'm watching stuff and I play games when I watch stuff, I cook a lot, I bake, I like long walks on the beach actually I like reasonable length walks by rivers/green areas or along the promenade if I'm at the beach because sand (Anakin Skywalker was right and he should say it).

TWELVE: Do you have any pets? Nope! Just moved, but I used to help look after my friends' dog every so often - she's a black cockapoo called Luna and I love her dearly but she also made me realise if I do get a dog, I don't want a puppy. They are a lot of work. Which makes sense because they are literally baby

THIRTEEN: How tall are you? 5'7", please don't ask me for the metric - I haven't had to be measured in a while so I only know it in imperial. I wanna say like 167cm maybe? Does that sound right???

FOURTEEN: Favourite subject in school? English (Language over Lit) or French 100%. I always say that my optional GCSEs were all basically an extension of my skills in English (AKA bullshitting): Religious Studies (taught tbh as Christianity + a few other examples), French, Spanish (both still bullshitting just in another language), and Drama (absolutely bullshitting and also in my case scaring the shit out of an examiner because the plate smashed into lots of pieces that flew everywhere rather than just a few in a controlled space like it had in rehearsal)

FIFTEEN: Dream job? God I miss working in a cafe/events. But they don't pay the bills as well! Also like I would ideally want to do my current job 3 days a week and a manual job 2 but like without having to work lots of extra hours to keep on top of both, yk?

Tagging: @glaftwlet @emryses @snapshotmaestro @idyllic-idioms @alloverthegaf and idk anyone else who wants to do it! Brain empty can't remember usernames

#tag game

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kinshenewa · 10 months ago

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I'm going to do a little lore rant about something I made. Arcade Land is a thing I have had existing for such a long time, and my favorite character from my creation is Helpful Hare. I love how he's evolved, and I adore him.

He is the kind of sweet that will give diabetus, yet also can hold dark aspects. He is manipulative, but not like how most are. While most manipulative men would say, "You are lucky to have me! Without me, you would be nothing! You are mine, and you will do as I say!" He's the kind of dude to say, "I am so lucky to have you. Without you, my days would be so dull and bland. Oh how happy I am to have earned your heart, and claimed you. You are MINE, and I don't plan on sharing your heart or your body, anytime soon!" He's just a silly little goober that I can't help but giggle about.

None of the animatronics can ever do things to someone if that person don't want things to happen. Animatronics can't kill without reason, or cause harm without a reason, and certainly can't touch inappropriately without that person agreeing. Arcade Land also offers Sex Ed classes, with the average age being 15 for most students, and 15 is the absolute youngest that animatronics can possible even idly wonder about the topic.

The amount of safety protocols in place is insane, since Ludwig (creator of O'Hare Inc and Arcade Land) wanted his animatronics to be better than Fazbear Entertainment's (who exists in the same universe and inspired Ludwig in the first place). The safety protocols are like 'morals' for the animatronics. There was once a project to try and make balloon based animatronics, but that flopped after a year, since the safety protocols took up a lot of their memory, and they were disobedient and disrespectful.

Balloonics can still be found in basements 3 and 4, though no one really cares about them anymore. Only a few are active at a time, and a few get destroyed each year. After the place is abandoned, almost all of the balloonics are activated, but usually spend time in their cubbies charging. The only balloonic that is on year round is Drake, him being a prototype balloonic. He is different because he has the exoskeleton of a Performer but is hollow inside. He can't float like other balloonics, but he is intelligent, unlike other balloonics. He is a tad arrogant, but hey, he's one of a kind and the smartest balloonic in Earth, of course he would be smug.

Basement 3 was supposed to be a waterpark, but the plans showed that was a bad idea, so it was made into an employee only area. There is a pool, though that is farther back into the forest that neighbors Arcade Land, and has a skylight that connects it to the above world. The pool of full of anigoo, sometimes called animatar, which is a byproduct created from when animatronics digest things in their artificial stomachs for fuel. Many animatronics like to take mini vacations there, where they have little martinis and animatronics that give massages. That is usually where animatronics will spend their time when they need to use their mandated unpaid vacation time.

Animatronics work around 46 weeks a year, the daytime animatronics working around 80 hour workweeks. They can't get tired since they are made of metal and wires and rubber, and don't spend all of working hours working. They take paid breaks, and eat when needed. Sometimes, they spend a lot of time in their rooms, usually making sure they look their best. The animatronics who have fur spend around 2 hours each day freshening up their fur and cleaning it out of anything that could get stuck, like gum or soda.

More to come soon.

#kinshenewas-writing #Arcade-Land-Lore #Arcade Land by Kinshenewa

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highwayphantoms · 2 years ago

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“Please talk to me. I need to know that you’re alright.” for the pairing of your choice!

surprising probably no one, here is some more Briar Hawke. :3 for @dadrunkwriting

Words: 1012 Warnings: None

In hindsight, perhaps it had been a bad idea to tackle a laundry list of troubles on the Wounded Coast three days after her mother’s funeral. Her armor had taken the brunt of the damage, as it was meant to, but but now that she had a moment to breathe, well.

Being thrown against rocky cliffs, armor or no armor, was bound to hurt. And her back ached. Flaming qunari. That had been more than an hour ago, and if anything the pain had gotten worse rather than better. Merrill was terrifyingly powerful in combat, but healing was… not her strong suit. No, it would have to wait until they got back to the city.

Not an ideal situation, but she’d be more concerned if her back didn’t hurt.

“Hawke,” Varric called from behind her, “I can see a few guards pinned down below us. Want to lend them a hand?”

Briar sighed and turned to peer over the steep cliff at her side. She saw them immediately, little specks of orange fabric identifying the huddled group as members of the city guard. Then, past them on an outcrop that hung over the waters below, more figures. There were more of the latter group, and for a moment Briar wondered how many guards had already been lost to what was surely a doomed mission.

She didn’t have to help them. Despite Aveline’s occasional suggestions, she was not a member of the city guard, and she wasn’t responsible for their welfare. But she was well-trained, well-armed, and backed up by three of the most dangerous people in Kirkwall. Whoever the city guard was hunting wouldn’t stand a chance.

“We’re here. Might as well,” she replied.

-----

The sun had long since set by the time they reached the outer limits of Kirkwall. While Fenris headed in the direction of Hightown, Briar followed Varric and Merrill into Lowtown, then peeled off from them to head into the Undercity. Every step made pain radiate up and down her spine, which was doing absolutely nothing to distract from the memory of what she’d been doing the last time she’d been in Darktown.

For nearly a week, she hadn’t slept properly. It wasn’t always nightmares—sometimes it was just bittersweet memories of a family still intact—but her mother’s death haunted her every thought.

If she’d paid closer attention, if she’d moved faster, if, if, if.

Sometimes she wondered if the Circle really was such a bad idea.

The doors to the clinic were closed when she reached it, but the lantern hanging outside was still lit. Briar pushed the door open to see a wholly deserted room: no Anders, no patients, no volunteers. As odd as that was, she wasn’t too concerned. Intending to wait for him to return, she started the familiar process of stripping off her armor. Boots, legs, arms: these were easy enough to unclasp and remove. Her chestplate, however, had latches in a spot that was normally somewhat awkward to reach. Briar made one attempt to reach the clasp on the left side of her chestplate, and promptly blacked out.

Either a few minutes or a few hours later, someone shook her gently by the shoulder. “Hawke, wake up.”

Anders, she thought dimly. Already, she was awake enough that the pain hovered at the edges of her mind, and with some reluctance Briar forced her bleary eyes open. She had an excellent view of the stone ceiling, she found—and of Anders, leaning over her with a deeply concerned expression. “Mm. Hi,” she said, not quite awake enough to form proper sentences.

He frowned and asked, “What happened on the coast?”

Words refused to come, and so Briar only shook her head.

“Please, talk to me. I need to know that you’re okay.”

“Oh, I’m not,” she managed, and shut her eyes again rather than face his sympathy. She’d had enough of sympathy and condolences. “Might’ve cracked something in my back.”

“Hawke,” he said, somehow making her name both a plea and a scolding. “You’re going to get yourself killed if you’re not careful.”

The words escaped her before she could hold them back. “Would that be so bad?”

For a moment, there was silence. Then he sighed deeply. “I don’t know,” Anders murmured, and the soothing warmth of healing magic began to flood her veins. “I think it would destroy your sister if she lost you, too. And…”

He trailed off, and made no attempt to finish his train of thought. After a few seconds, Briar said softly, “I know.”

“Do you?” he asked, and his magic evaporated under her skin. Briar opened her eyes, intending to reply, but the quiet resignation in his expression stopped her. “You’re the brightest light in Kirkwall. We would all be lost without you.”

She only stared at him for a moment, temporarily speechless. Then she said, “But I’m just a Fereldan sellsword.”

Anders shook his head. “No. You’re so much more than that.” The warmth returned, this time concentrated down the middle of her back. “And one of these days, the city is going to realize that.” He was quiet then, focused on his work. Gradually, the pain in her spine began to ease, and he confirmed aloud, “No might, you definitely broke something. You’re lucky you could still walk. You’ll be sore tomorrow, but Maker knows you deserve a day off.”

Sitting in that big, empty manor all day was the exact opposite of what Briar wanted to do, but Anders didn’t need to know that. She gingerly sat up as he stepped back, then glanced around the empty clinic. “Would, um. Would you mind if I just slept here?”

“Be my guest,” he replied. “I think I have some blankets here somewhere—”

He stopped as she reached out and snatched his hand. Deliberately, Briar lifted his hand and pressed a light kiss to his knuckles, then said, “Thank you.”

Anders stared at her for a moment, stunned. “I… You’re welcome, Hawke.”

“Briar,” she said, releasing him with a warm smile. “Call me Briar.”

#jay writes #dragon age #da fic #briar hawke

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thecreativitygeek · 2 years ago

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NOTE: I'm switching away from Newsies content (at least for a while) so I thought for those of you who want it I'd post this story I've had in my drafts for a while. Love y'all!!!!

Warnings: Nightmares, abuse.

Summary: You have a nightmare about your past but Albert is there to comfort you.

Prompts: (36) "It's okay. I'm here." (55) "Stay... Please." (62) "I don't wanna talk about it."

It wasn't an uncommon thing for you to have nightmares. It was why you had always refused to stay at the lodging house with the guys. It was why most nights you were left scrounging for some decent shelter after a heated poker match. Sometimes you were lucky enough to find a decent place to sleep, but very rarely. Still, you wanted to to make sure they boys never found out about your nightmares.

That's why it took you hours to fall asleep when you were forced to stay in the lodging house by Albert one night when it was storming outside. You had tried to convince him that you would be fine to "walk home" in the rain, but he hadn't listened to any of it.

It hadn't surprised you when the same terrors that plagued your dreams most nights showed up again to torment you.

"Stop please." You pleaded, ignoring the tears falling out of your eyes. You could barely form a full thought, let alone create enough words that made sense to come out of your mouth.

"You're a worthless brat you know that?" You dad spat, alcohol on his breath. He currently had you pinned down on the floor. Not in an inappropriate way, but in order for him to have easy access to your back, which he continued carving little marks into as he spoke.

"Your mom thought you were the most beautiful thing in the whole world. You should have died instead of her."

You knew that you shouldn't trust a single word coming out of your dads twisted, alcohol infested mouth, however you couldn't' help but start to believe the things you had heard him say so many times.

"Now where's my lighter Y/N? I know you hid it somewhere." Your dad accused, cutting multiple more little red marks into your back.

"I don't have it." You cried, feeling like you could hardly breath. You squirmed to get away from your dad as he made cut after cut on your back.

It hurt so bad.

"I don't have it I promise!" You pleases, crying harder now. You were absolutely hysterical at this point, feeling like every breath was a forced gasp of air.

"Y/N!" A familiar voice shouted, startling you awake. You flinched as you registered hands on your shoulders, but relaxed once you recognized it was Albert in front of you, eyes full of concern.

"Albert?" You asked, ignoring the way you sounded like a small child who had just seen a puppy get run over.

You could feel your bottom lip begin to quiver and your breath quicken as memories of your dad began to swarm in. You had never been an emotional person, so it was freaking you out.

"It's okay." He said, noticing your distress and pulling you into a hug. He sounded like the sight of emotions was something that absolutely terrified him, but still, he pulled you in tightly and let you bury your face in his shoulder. "It's okay. I'm here."

You didn't know how long the two of you stayed like that, but it was long enough for your quivering lip and few stray tears to turn to full on sobbing and your sobbing to turn into some quiet hiccups as you slowly began to calm down.

"What happened?" Albert asked eventually, his voice quiet so that he wouldn't wake up the others.

"Just a nightmare." You got out. "I'm fine. Sorry if I woke you up."

"I was already awake." He said, pulling away. You were both sitting on the opposite sides of the bottom bunk you were inhabiting for the night, leaning against the wooden poles that held up the top bed. "What was your nightmare about?" He asked, crossing his arms in a way that somehow wasn't at all threatening.

You paused for a moment, thinking about what you could say. None of the boys knew about your past. As far as they knew, you had just been orphaned at a young age and lived with your grandma until she died just a few years ago. When you joined the newsies. You couldn't tell Albert that you had been lying to him and everyone else for all of these years.

"I don't want to talk about it." You said quietly, looking away from him, and hoping her would leave it alone. You didn't want him to go away, but you didn't want him to keep asking questions. either.

"Okay." Albert responded. "That's fine. Um... come get me if you need anything." he added before walking away.

"Wait." You said, making him stop and turn around. You cringed at what you were about to say, but said it anyway. "Stay... please."

Albert looked like he wasn't sure what to do, but ultimately turned around and laid down next to you, letting out a soft "Okay."

(I know there's no sharing what actually happened but maybe I'll come back to it someday. Message me if you want to finish the story on your own)

#newsies live #newsies 1992 #newsies broadway #newsies fanfiction #newsies #albert newsies #newsies comfort #comfort #tw nightmares #abuse survivor #parental abuse #child abuse

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aromanticle · 1 year ago

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on top of that i also have to admit that every single bad experience i've had this past year + few months with people were all really my fault

i literally cannot blame someone for not knowing they were making me uncomfortable and hurting me especially when i encouraged them so much

i had a very bad night yesterday at sagu's boyfriend's house and this night her other bf was here while i was putting on my makeup and he was like mostly joking around but instead of telling him to stop i was just. honestly straight up encouraging him to make me as uncomfortable as possible. not directly but i know he couldnt have possibly known i was feeling pretty awful. neither could the guy last night when i willingly went to his house and said "yes im staying the night" and gave zero signs that i actually wished i was anywhere but there, because deep inside that's not true and i wanted to make myself feel bad so much that instead of asking him to drive me home i stayed in his room sitting on the floor next to the outlet because i felt too uncomfortable and unsafe to sleep. if i actually didn't want to feel unsafe i wouldn't keep coming back to people who treat me badly and couldn't care less about me, i wouldnt have accepted marcus's proposal, i wouldnt keep making new meeff accounts and wandering away from my friends and trying so hard to make the shadiest looking guys in any given place notice me. no matter how you look at it im the only reason i keep having really bad experiences every other week.

except for this time, which i guess is what makes it so infinitely worse and scarier and more traumatizing and its why i have been cryiing in anger and disgust and shame and why the moment i walked into a safe place those memories were instantly blocked and repressed and maybe even entirely forgotten. ive been actively looking for awful things to happen to me and ive put so much effort into making myself as vulnerable and easy to hurt as possible to satisfy my own desires that i forgot how it feels to experience things i actually don't want as opposed to things that would be terrible in any other context except for this very specific one, where even though i feel awful, its the kind of awful that brings back a certain sense of comfort and possibly nostalgia.

this, somehow, makes the whole situation so much worse. to think that all this time i thought i was re-living my early childhood in a way that would help me get over it when in fact i was just suffering for no reason and now that i got to experience what it really was like back then i realize it is as absolutely devastating and horrifying as i thought. i should have known because it hasnt even been that long. in fact, sometimes i randomly feel really bad and immediately know why. i should have known my silly little attempts at making myself the victim of several different things do not feel the same as actually having something really bad happen for real. i guess i just thought i was over it and it didnt hurt me anymore but i only felt that way because i was intentionally putting myself through it. in conclusion im so stupid i regret everything i dont want to ever leave my house again im in pain i want to sleep i want to go back in time i want to have never been born but i also know none of this will stop me from going right back into doing everything i just said i regret

#vent #personal #negativity

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cinnamonest · 3 years ago

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Yandere Profile - Link (Legend of Zelda)

ABSOLUTELY YES. MY BOY. LOVE OF MY LIFE.

As some of you may know, today is the release date of Skyward Sword HD for Switch!! So I decided to release this one now in honor of that :3

NOTES:

I went towards the idea of a Princess!reader because that just opens the gate for sooooo much potential. I'm leaning heavily towards the ZeLink interactions in BoTW and Skyward Sword just because those games have the most interaction between the two.

Also! This is great bc it gives me the opportunity to explore an idea I've actually had a long time! I've always thought about how many opportunities there have been across the games for Link and Zelda to be kinda like "haha well seeya later" and just... bolt, run away from everything, abandon their roles and responsibilities and all that. Like, if OoT kid Link got her before Ganon did and ran, if SS Link just decided to get her on the bird and bolt before everything went down, if botw Link was just like haha what if we ran away from everything together... jk... unless...?

And final note, Link is a great pick for the very traditional yandere -- sweet and : ) but can snap into darker personas. I really liked writing this bc I tend to have more self centered yans and less of the "worships the ground you walk on" type of yans like I think Link would be, so it's a nice change.

As usual now the nsfw section is divided by a ---- line.

TWs: fem reader, heavily implied Zelda!reader, stalking, murder, very brief mentions of gore/dismemberment of rivals, manipulation, very brief suicide mention, themes of reincarnation (I’ve been told this can be triggering to some people so just in case)

TWs (nsfw section): noncon, somnophilia

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Severity Scale

Intelligence/Perceptiveness: 4 Brutality: 8.5 Physical capability: 8 Mental/emotional instability: 7 Restrictiveness: 6 Sexual sadism: 5 Stubbornness: 8

What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

The primary trait of Link that any darling -- any person, really -- would notice is that he is, well, quiet. He has always been a man of few words, and really, he often doesn't know exactly what to say. On his own, at a first glance, he really does seem like a gentle, humble spirit, someone who blends into the background pretty well, who isn't particularly prideful or reckless or aggressive.

Which is why, to be honest, he might sort of evade the gaze of most people -- he doesn't stand out. You remember him as the boy that smiled at you now and then, it's a soft, gentle sort of smile, one that you feel conveys nothing but the utmost innocence and contentment with the world. You know he's pretty good at fighting, but doesn't get into fights needlessly, he's accomplished and respected, but has never been the guy everyone is talking about -- he's in the background, against the wall. Never speaking, always looking out, sometimes at the sky, sometimes carefully watching people. Sometimes you see him, gaze blank and tranquil, and wonder what he's thinking about. Whether he's the village boy in the time of Twilight, the trained and honored warrior that slept for many years, the boy that came down from the sky -- you can't help but feel at ease around him, safe, you can't help but find him endearing and pleasant.

Yet, you always seem to notice him. Other people... forget he exists, sometimes, he's so quiet. You never do, for whatever reason.

When he needs to get something across, he prefers to express himself through actions, not words. If you lived in Skyloft, or Ordon village, you might find problems mysteriously solved, work suddenly done that you don't remember doing. That fencepost outside your home that broke has been replaced overnight. A village child went missing and he comes back a few hours later with them in tow. Always humble, never demanding or expecting thanks, he tells you in his quiet voice that he's happy to help you.

And should you ever ask him for anything, he'll drop whatever he's doing to help. Anything for you, he says with a smile, which makes you feel a bit guilty when, honestly, you're not even sure you're remembering his name right.

And yet, sometimes, you feel so at ease around him it seems unnatural. He seems so easy to trust. You feel like you've known him forever. And sometimes you feel... for just a split second, less at ease. You find yourself randomly stiffening at his calm, sweet voice. You find yourself looking around when you're alone, as if you feel someone is there, and for some reason, his face flashes through your mind. Sometimes when he looks at you, you feel sort of cold. It's almost like invoking a memory you don't have, like some kind of learned instinct you can't recall a reason for. But those moments are fleeting, they come and go before you can even process them, replaced by warmth and comfort.

If you do spend time with him, if you find yourself gazing out your window when he's training, the next thing you notice besides him being quiet and sweet is that he's strong. It's almost ironic, how all the other knights or village boys are so aggressive and rowdy all the time, many of them taller or bulkier, and yet, none of them could ever dream of defeating Link. Not one can match his agility, speed, prowess. Such a pleasant, calm person, with so much skill, strength, and power, but that power is so rarely seen exerted. People marvel at his talent, they say it's as if he has the experience of lifetimes and lifetimes of battle in his blood.

And it's why you feel at ease when he's assigned the task of guarding you. His capabilities are unmatched, and yet you'd never fear any harm to you from him. Both of those traits put together make him the best candidate to protect you.

Of course, you do find yourself doing most of the talking. Sometimes you find yourself rambling to fill the silence, and you fear you're annoying him, but when you stop he raises an eyebrow and asks why you got so quiet. Did he do something wrong? He seems to worry about that a lot -- has he done something bad? Has he made you upset? Are you mad? At first you think he's worried about his position security, but after a while you realize he genuinely worries about it.

And when you do continue your ramblings, you're surprised to find he remembers your words -- every little thing you say. Things you don't even remember telling him. He asks you about that relative you mentioned one time, his eyes light up and he walks a bit to the side because look, it's your favorite flower over there, he'll get it for you. It's impressive, really, how he manages to remember such things. He must take his job very seriously.

He does enjoy giving you such things -- he loves giving you gifts. It's usually things he finds, wholesome little things -- makes a crown out of the flowers you like so much, finds something interesting here or there, while he was off-duty he saw something in the markets he thought you'd like and got it for you. You almost feel guilty, it's so constant that he's giving you things.

Sometimes you ask him about himself, you realize he knows so much about you and you so little about him. He blushes, he rubs the back of his head, he insists there's nothing interesting about him, he wouldn't waste your time like that. It takes time to get him out of his shell, but eventually, he tells you this or that, little stories from his life.

Sometimes you take long walks, you like to get out of the stuffy walls and have fun outside, he accompanies you across Hyrule. Sometimes it feels familiar, you pass places you've never been that give you a feeling of nostalgia, deja vu, a sense that you've been here before.

He’s protectiveness incarnated. Insanely so. He can spring to his feet at a moment's notice and deals with anything that comes for you before they can even get close.

It makes you feel safe, but there's something else there. It's a ferocity that is so contrasting to his normal self, different even from the times you've seen him fight as he trains. It's a glint in the eyes, an aggression in his expression, that almost makes him seem like a different person. And it lingers for a moment, once the creature is dead and his sword hand falls to his side, he turns and glances at you to his side, a hand raised to wipe the blood off his face, and for that lingering second, it's still there, his blank expression and wide eyes -- a ferocity so intense it starts to look like bloodlust, chaos, destruction. And then, it's as if you imagined it. Smiling and telling you it's gone now, you're ok. You're glad he's so truly devoted.

In fact, he's so dedicated to his job that he starts... doing it... outside of his job hours...? Well, today he was given the day off, and you were told to stay inside because you didn't have to go out. He comes knocking on your door, says not to be startled if you hear someone outside your door move or shift or anything, but he just wanted to let you know in case. He'll be right here. Keeping watch. So don't worry. You're safe.

And likewise, he was supposed to have a day off when you were supposed to enter the town. You were assigned two other guards to watch you, since it's a special trip, so you're surprised to find just Link waiting for you. He took care of it, he says, he didn't feel right leaving your safety up to someone else, he doesn't trust them. So they agreed to let him take over for today.

All of this said, he doesn't have to grow alongside you, he doesn't have to be the childhood friend, the knight who guards you. He doesn't even have to have met you. Fate works in odd ways like that. There's a sort of inexplicable instant attachment he takes to you, almost as though it's some kind of destined, divinely inspired sort of thing. He would describe it as saying you feel familiar to him.

He's also, notably, prone to a more traditional trope of what you might call humility whiplash. For the most part, he's got that overly humble, worshipping, "I don't deserve to even stand in your presence" sort of mentality. However, although it's rare and requires a lot of wearing down his mental state, if pushed far enough, he can have brief moments where he snaps into more or less the complete opposite -- entitlement, arrogance, aggression, getting mad at you for the behavior he'd normally take with a smile on his face. Thankfully, unlike some yanderes that have a whole snapping episode towards their darling, his are very very brief, usually only a matter of seconds or a single snarled sentence before he snaps back to normal, wide-eyed and apologetic and telling you I don't know what came over me. It’s... a little frightening to say the least, but you blow it off, tell yourself that hey, everyone has moments like that... Right?

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

For the most part, he doesn't need it, he can pretty easily cling to your side well enough to be assured of your safety, and he manages to scare off the undesirables not with a glare, but a smile that's just a little too sweet and far too persistent -- it unnerves people. You hear a lot of people say that something about that guy rubs me the wrong way. Or that he gives me goosebumps for some reason. Even the people he scares away themselves can't pinpoint exactly what it is, all they know is that, despite being reputed as kind and quiet (and maybe a little dense), somehow a lot of people agree that something about him puts people at unease, and that's all he needs. Because they stay away from him, and if he’s by your side all the time, that means they stay away from you too. Why keep you trapped when you can just be isolated?

An aware Link is a a unique scenario. One scenario that's rather... interesting to imagine is a Link that defies fate itself, a Link that decides to be selfish in one of those rare snapping moments of his. Perhaps he makes a decision when everything starts going down, when the chaos is beginning, or perhaps he has somehow managed to gain knowledge of the bigger picture at work, the reality of the nature of your existence and his.

Perhaps he begins to think it's unfair. To suffer again and again. To prove himself again and again, and not always even to reap any benefits, to work so hard and yet still -- still -- you slip out of his grasp. He longs for a life with no tribulations, no struggle, no fights to be fought. He begins to feel like it's what he wants the most. He begins to feel like maybe it's what he deserves. So many lifetimes of struggles, if the higher powers won't give him a reward, he'll take it himself.

And perhaps, for all their higher power, not even the great goddesses themselves would have ever predicted it -- humans are ultimately creatures of will. To defy fate and to run away from destiny -- it wouldn't be the first time a human has tried such a thing. Sure, Hyrule may be destroyed. The people may all die. There may be nothing left. But you know what? He's stopped caring. If you're alive and he's alive, tucked away in your little corner of the world where you've found respite, well, that's all he needs. Even if you're on the run from forces that would want to find you, even if the threat of the final third of the triforce owner looms over your head. He'll ignore it, he'll look away.

You'll live a quiet little life together, a happy life without suffering, without quests and enemies, without strife, without worry. That's what he tells you when he steals you away, lifts you out of your bed one night. Says to be quiet, there's danger outside your door, he's rescuing you. You have no reason to not believe him. He waits until things go down, a castle under siege, but rather than taking you to where you're supposed to go, he climbs onto the horse and starts... riding away. It gets further and further into the distance, and you might ask why, what's going on? You have a job to do, he has a battle to be fought. But he says you're going far, far away, someplace you'll be safe.

But what about the divine beasts, the seals, the Twilight, whatever threat runs in this world in this time, what about the threat of Ganon, you ask? He says it doesn't matter anymore. You were doomed to fail, he thinks, it's either stay here and die, or run away. All that matters is you. And he'd like you to feel the same way for him. You will with enough time, don't worry.

He just wants this happy, quiet life with you that he’s been denied time and time again. It’s all he wants. If fate won’t give it to him, he’ll make it happen himself, and carve out the life he is determined to have, defying even the will of higher power.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape?

He gets it. Really, he does. "Stop following me!" You yell. Well, he understands why you might feel that way, but this is kinda his job. He thinks you're naive. Not that he would ever, ever have a thought that you're imperfect, of course! It's because you're so perfect and pure that you're... less aware of the dangers all around.

He'll let you think you're free, perhaps. He's more than capable of being quiet, quiet is kind of his thing. Watching you from a short distance is easy. Of course, his horse might make a noise, he can't really help that, or he might misstep on a branch or something. And then you turn around and get all mad again. Now you're even more angry. Well, he can also tell your guardians/father, who will encourage you to accept it. You can't help but feel a little bad -- he's just doing his job.

Now, our aware, runaway Link, well, does he really need to keep you restrained? What would you go back to? Certain death, a land destroyed? Sometimes you mention home, and he's quick to remind you that home doesn't exist anymore. His home is where you are. Can't you feel the same way? You found peace here in this little place -- a village far far away. Travelers, you call yourselves. What's the point in going elsewhere? How would you ever survive without him? He's not very good at being subtle or skillful about the psychological manipulation, it's obvious he's trying to scare you into not leaving, but... it still works, because really, he has a point.

He doesn't want to have to use physical restraint, in any case. And for the most part, it's not needed, because one important aspect of your relation is that his job kinda revolves around you (in some incarnations), or, perhaps you live in the same little village, but either way the thing is that his presence does the job well enough -- he's always there, perhaps more so than almost any other yandere. Even when you think you've managed to get away from him for a moment, somehow his face pops up out of nowhere. How he manages to pull it off is a mystery, you swear he manages to find you so well and predict your movements it's inhuman.

But if you really, really pose a problem, a smarter and sneakier darling that somehow manages to keep slipping out of his grasp and running off (you never get away for more than about 20 minutes or so, but nonetheless), you keep trying to run off when he's sleeping (he wakes up in approximately 25 seconds if your presence is absent from the bed, but that's still enough time to run out the front door), every time he turns his head (which isn't often) you're trying to disappear... well, in that case, he can reach a point of deciding more straightforward measures are necessary. He hates to do it, really, at least when he's not yet at a snapping point. But it's for your own good. And he says so, quite apologetically.

But it's not so bad, it's not like you're being chained to a wall or anything. For one, he got leather ties so you'd be more comfortable, but more importantly, as your guardian, he figured the best thing for you to be tied to would be... himself. Think of it like friendship bracelets! It's just... got a 5-foot chain connecting them. This way you can't sneak off at night, and you won't get too far when he's distracted. It's a safety measure.

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

He's a learner. At first, it's easy. Honestly, he is a rather naive, gullible boy, sometimes he reminds you of a happy dog with his bright eyes. He likes to believe the best of people, give them the benefit of the doubt in all circumstances, and that goes double for you, who he believes can do no wrong.

And even when you do lie to him, it's still not wrong. You didn't do anything bad. Clearly there has simply been a misunderstanding, and you thought you had to lie. Or perhaps you simply forgot a detail or were confusing something with something else. It wasn't malicious on your end, he knows that.

He's actually significantly smarter than he lets on in practical knowledge, though. Those dungeon puzzles pay off, you know? He's got pattern recognition down. So over time he learns how to distinguish when you're lying to him or attempting to deceive him, and sees through it increasingly well.

And yet, he doesn't really... get mad over it, most of the time. Again, he's just capable of deluding himself into believing there's a reason. He believes so strongly in your goodness that he finds a way to interpret everything you do as out of benevolence. So you snuck out the window and didn't tell him you were going for a walk because you just wanted to get away from his suffocating presence for once? You were just thinking of him. You didn't want to burden him and wanted to give him a break. Well, that's thoughtful, but don't worry, he doesn't need a break. He thinks it's precious you're so considerate of him though!

You don't tell him you were talking to that person, and you lie and say no when he asks, because you don't want him to worry, and because you underestimate how dangerous others can be. He's told you a million times and you don't listen, but that's ok, it's because you're just so pure you see the best in everyone. Everything you do is good.

Because he perceives your lies, he will still work against and around it. He won't confront you on your lies, he'll just make sure to deal with the situation -- you lied about sneaking out, well, he'll just keep watch and be ready to meet you outside next time. You lied about talking to a person, well, he'll just have to make sure they stay away from you instead.

If you're trying to trick him, he just plays along until necessary. Smiles and nods. He gets the suspicion you're planning a break-out when he told you he was leaving to go get something from town... rather than saying so, he just decides, you know what? Why don't you come with him? Oh, you're feeling sick, you tell him it's ok, go without you? Well, he can't leave you alone then! Because you're clearly not and just trying to get him to leave... or, as he says, he can't just leave you alone. He'll go another day.

He's fairly manipulable when it comes to praise and affection. You can easily Pavlov him into certain behaviors or patterns with just the slightest words of praise and affection. He's not a very outwardly expressive person, tends to stay quiet, but you can tell how he feels inside when you give the slightest praise, a hug, a kiss on the cheek -- you can see that soft hint of a smile and tell that inside, he's basically melting, even if it's not obvious to most people. And, much like the lying, he’s honestly often aware of it, but he just can’t help it.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

He tries to get you the things that he feels will make you happy. Your happiness is incredibly important to him, and he usually thinks about how any action he plans to take might affect you, spends a lot of time debating choices of things to do or say and try to determine how each one will affect you and choose accordingly.

As such, he goes out of his way to support the things you want to do. Have a hobby? He'll find the best materials available. Want a book or a food? He'll obtain it through some means. Even if procuring it involves a side-quest-y set of mundane tasks or scouring the world for 70 of this and 50 of that to exchange it for the item from an obscure specialist, it's all worth it.

The only thing he just doesn't give up on is the constant vigilance and insistence on being by your side more or less every waking second. And every sleeping second. And just every single moment you're alive. It's for your safety.

This is actually one of the things he can get a little nasty about when it comes to how he deals with it, because he quickly has the bright idea that if you don't get it, he'll make you understand. Of course, he can't actually risk you getting hurt, so he stages it. Allows you to sneak off, or at least think you have, and walk right into the path of those monsters he lured, or the people he hired to intimidate you. Of course, it's only natural that he shows up at the last possible second, right on time to save you. You should expect that, after all, it's his responsibility to protect you, of course fate works out perfectly like this. See, he was right, it's so dangerous, and without him you'd be dead. Hopefully you grasp that now.

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

His is mostly related to vigilance. Where are you? Who have you been talking to? Who was that person you were talking with just now? What did they say? He's not nosy. He just cares about you. It’s in the job description. You ought to understand just how much certain bad people would love to find you and hurt you. That's why he has to know.

This isn't our modern world, so there's no phones or tracking devices to speak of, just himself, which, well, might as well be a tracking device since he never seems to have difficulty finding you. Sometimes you're not sure how he does it.

He tells you that you don't have to be with him 24/7, but you will be, even if you don't realize it. He's aware enough to know that you'll feel suffocated and get mad if you're aware of his presence all the time, so he gives you your "alone" time, aka, the "follow her quietly from a 20+ foot distance" time. It all feels the same to you. Well, sometimes you feel eyes on you, but you shake the feeling off as paranoia.

So it's not so much that he sets rules and reacts when they're broken, but rather, he works his way around anything you might do so well that he doesn't need you to follow his rules, or really, you take them more as suggestions. But honestly, that's kind of worse. It's enough to drive a darling to the brink of a mental breakdown very quickly. With Link you will inevitably become paranoid, nervous, you feel like you're going insane because he manages to pop up everywhere, he always knows what you did when you did it and you have no idea how it is even conceivably possible for him to know some of the things that he knows. He confronts you very plainly and quietly, often sweetly, asking why you did this or that or telling you it's ok, you don't have to hide anything, surely there’s a good reason, and if not, he forgives you anyway. In a way, it's worse than an angry confrontation. You begin to feel like he's omnipresent, like he can read your mind, and it truly takes a mental toll and affect you worse than any normal yandere's concept of punishment.

This ultimately works out well in his favor. The more you just do what he wants, the less it feels like a violation or intrusion that he knows these things, since he was there with you, it makes sense, and you continuously get bent to his will.

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

Ah, and thus we get to that brutality rating.

It would be unthinkable to think that any sort of scum would even dare. Even he isn't worthy of being with you, and someone else thinks they could be? So, he more or less views "rivals" as an offense. When they're threats, well, he's allowed to deal with them. When they're not, well... he has a wonderful reputation. If he says he overheard that person planning usurpation or assassination, that they realized he was listening in and wildly attacked him, everyone will believe him. Even if the death seems a little... non-immediate. And uh... frankly... overkill. How exactly... did those limbs get perfectly severed during equally armed combat? And was it... really necessary... to kinda spill entrails all over like that? He'll apologize, of course, he was just so outraged by the thought of someone hurting you or your family, you know? You notice his eye twitches a bit as he says it.

He has a lot of... bottled up frustrations, which we'll touch on in the nsfw section as well, but it tends to manifest in those two ways: sex and violence. Rather than exerting stress and anger and frustration as it comes, he lets it fester. He tries to maintain being the noble, humble, self-sacrificing person he feels he should be. That is... difficult to do for a long time. People expect a lot from him, even in timelines where he's not necessarily realized as the hero quite yet, he usually has a lot of responsibilities. But then you tack on the whole hero thing? The weight of the world is sometimes, quite literally, on his shoulders. Do you have any idea the kind of stress that comes with that knowledge? It's not pleasant. And it quickly bottles up, a very very fragile bottle set to eventually shatter in a matter of time.

On a longer sort of quest, he just kinda... leaves a trail of destruction in his wake. Enemies don't actually just poof out of existence the way they do on-screen, you know. Anyone coming across an area he's just been through is met with literal piles upon piles of corpses, sometimes monsters, but sometimes people. He takes a very scorched earth sort of policy when it comes to dealing with things.

He's able to easily get close to people, with that sweet face and puppy eyes and lithe body, people don't really feel on guard around him nor intimidated. That makes it significantly easier to infiltrate enemy hideouts, earn favors, and work his way in to be able to commit mass murder more easily. Granted, no one thinks too much of it because they *are* truly enemies, after all, they *did* need to be taken out and well, if the rulers can choose to either send a group of ten soldiers or just one guy and get the job done equally well either way, they'll go with the latter option. No one thinks anything of it, except the occasional person who laughs and says something to the effect of remind me to never get on your bad side, haha! He gives that sheepish, sweet little smile, and jokingly tells them that yeah, better not.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

For you, nearly impossible. For others, at a hair trigger.

For the most part, he conceals anger well until, as aforementioned, it bottles up and bursts. The truth is he gets irritated virtually all the time by other people. People who talk to you. Look at you. Smile at you. He’s actually rather easily annoyed even when you’re not involved, but again, he’s good at hiding it until it builds.

His rage has a commonality with his calm -- it's quiet. At least, at first. When it's directed at others, his eyes narrow. It's the telltale sign that someone has ignited his rage. It burns on the inside, it starts off as a spark that builds and builds and grows larger and larger until it's a blazing fire that consumes everything in his path. It's a loss of composure, a rare moment of complete loss of self-control. From his own perspective, it feels like he's not in control of his own body, it's all a blur happening in front of him and when it's over he's looking down at his own hands, unable to process his own actions, sometimes unable to remember them.

But it's violent, merciless, unforgiving. It does not yield to begging, it does not leave anything alive unless forced to. You remember the first time you realized how unnatural it was, how shocked you were at how he did something that certainly went against the code he was sworn to follow, the very first time you felt truly afraid of Link. It was a walk in town -- someone called out to you, spitting obscenities about you and your family, your lineage, threw something at you -- he caught it in his hand and crushed it, and quickly, without a word, advanced on the offender. And, to make a long story short, you had to prevent him from beating a man to death in public in broad daylight. He was forgiven by his superiors, but even they seemed shocked. You had to pull him off, and when he jerked his head around to look at whatever was stopping him -- before his face softened as he recognized your own face -- the split second you saw the burn of hatred and fury in eyes that were normally so soft and loving, was nothing short of unsettling, you still recall the chill that ran down your spine.

And honestly? It's terrifying. And the first time, it's shocking. Sure, you knew he could fight. You've seen him fight off monsters, bokoblins and lizalfos and the like. But something is different about seeing the blood of a human being run down his sword, dripping onto the ground, to see the bodies and the blank, numb gaze on his features he always has after it's over. The absolute lack of hesitancy he has to run human enemies through before they even have a chance to explain themselves, how unbothered he seems by the carnage left in his wake. The way he turns back to you, drenched in red and smiles, tells you it's ok, you're safe now. There's no need to look so scared.

And it changes how you view him, in the long run. Less of a guardian angel, more of a guardian dog, one that defends your name when you never asked him to. Pleads to tell him not to fall on deaf ears -- you just don't understand why it has to be this way, he says, you can't comprehend the threat they posed. From the sweet boy that leaves you flowers and repairs and instead leaves a wave of destruction in his path you would not have thought possible.

Directed towards you, though, it's entirely different. He tries his best to have patience with you, no matter what. He smiles, he tries to make excuses as to why you'd say this or do that, why you'd feel a certain way, and he's rather good at deluding himself to give you the benefit of the doubt.

But when it reaches an end, when he can no longer lie to himself, when you push it to a point that you truly make him mad, it's more of a snap. The times he'll lay hands on you in a truly violent way are rare, and as aforementioned, very brief. It's usually not so much of actually a blow, so much as a grab. He just can't get what he's trying to tell you through your thick head, so he stresses it, trying to make you understand as he grabs you by the upper arms, shaking you with each word, and he only stops when he sees the pain and fear in your eyes, drawing his hands back at lightning speed. He saves you from some danger very narrowly, one of the few times he lost track of you for a moment and had to frantically search before coming across you being attacked. What would I have done if something happened to you? Don't you understand that? He's so lost in the relief it takes him a moment to feel you beating on his arms in the embrace, choking and wheezing that you can't breathe, that his grip is so tight it feels like he'll snap you in half. He draws back again, and he apologizes, but it will certainly happen more than once.

So they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

Above. Like, so, so, so far above. He feels like he doesn't even deserve to look at you. Of course, neither does anyone else, so he's just, you know, stepping up to bear the burden of wrongdoing to keep people even worse than him away from you.

So it's less that you're just above him so much as you're above everyone. He's actually, perhaps surprisingly, a little bit of a pessimist about the world. The world is full of so many terrible people and so many horrible things happen that he's borne witness to. It's a "world cold and hard, (y/n) soft and warm" sort of thing. You're the one good thing, the thing that makes him happy, the ultimate source of comfort he has, and he has to prevent you from being defiled by the evil of the world, keep you innocent and sweet (even if he's just deluding himself to think you are those things in the first place).

This ties into, again, how he interprets every action you take as good and benevolent -- he has the "you can do no wrong" mentality. Even very blatantly malicious things, he'll interpret in a way that makes you somehow still come out a perfect, innocent angel. If you do harm to others, well, they simply deserved it. You did something technically wrong, but you knew no better, or you were desperate. You can't be held responsible for any of it. And if you're mean to him, well, he probably did something to make you upset.

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

Sort of a duality. Yes, he's very persistent. He thinks about it all the time. Every time you yell and try to run and hurl nasty insults at him, it hurts far more than you realize. He doesn't let it show on his face or in his voice, but it really does, and it gets to him sometimes. He's hyper observant of every little thing you do, your body language, your tone, the way you look at him, and the slightest of differences can change his mood internally, although it tends to look the same outwardly.

He makes little mental notes of it -- today she didn't flinch when I touched her shoulder. Today she didn't frown when she saw me coming. Little things like that will make his entire day. Likewise, the inverse kills him inside. He aims to make every day one of the former days, where the littlest signs of acceptance or even kindness and affection give him a sort of high that makes him feel like he's floating.

He tries his best to do things that he thinks will, well, earn love. Every opportunity to do something for you, he takes it. Everything he sees he'd think you'd like, he buys (or steals, or... loots from a dead body) for you. On and on that idea goes. And although he doesn't say too much, when he does speak to you, he usually has something nice to say. He views it in a formulaic way -- ironically, think about it like those collectibles in overworlds. You get enough of this or that thing, and once you have enough, you can go talk to this or that person and donate them all and get a reward, right? He's accustomed to viewing things that way. Love should be the same way. If he just completes enough tasks and gathers enough items, eventually he'll unlock your love.

That being said, even if it doesn't happen, much to your despair, he just... doesn't. Give. Up. He doesn't quit. No matter how many times you tell him, it doesn't make a difference. You can tell him you'll never love him, and it's like it goes in one ear and out the other. He keeps trying. And he never, ever, ever stops trying. What did you expect? The boy's been fighting the same enemy over and over across lifetimes, needless to say his spirit has build up some persistence.

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

Bonus: Zelda/Triforce of Wisdom Darling

And don't worry. If it all goes wrong, when he fails, those divergences in time where the hero is vanquished and evil wins out -- it's not the end. Somehow, that's the feeling he gets, holding your little lifeless body up, running hands across your cold skin. Somehow, he feels oddly calm. Like it hurts, but it's ok. Like he'll see you again. Maybe not soon, but one day. This time didn't work out. But the next one will.

And that's the feeling you'll always have. Every time you meet him and you feel like you've met before, the lingering memories when you wake from your dreams -- flying through skies and sailing on oceans, a child, an adult, a boy you've never met, or one you've known all your life, but it's always the same face, the same voice, the one right beside you in the waking world. You sometimes wonder if he has the same feelings, the same dreams, the same sense of something greater than yourselves at work, the sense of being just smaller pieces in a much bigger picture.

The sense of permanency, that each other is all there will ever be -- regardless of how it makes you feel, regardless of how that scares you, sometimes you feel like you can never be free. Sometimes, when you think of running away, those dark moments when you think of even escaping from life itself, it feels futile. It's as if you know it would never hold him away forever. As if death is insignificant. Perhaps in this lifetime, you'll become aware of why that is, or perhaps not.

With other obsessive lovers, just the idea of til death do us part is a terrifying thought. But, for Link, not even death can keep him away from you. Your suffering is already determined by the will of higher power, for the sake of a greater good.

In truth, it’s the goddesses who made him this way intentionally -- it’s designed to ensure your safety, even at the cost of your suffering. Again, for a greater good. Sure, you may live one lifetime to the next desperately locked in the same cycle in which your freedom and will is stripped from you, but in the end, it serves a purpose.

Nor will he change -- perhaps this one this time is a bit more spirited, more calm, more pessimistic, more optimistic... but in the end, at their core, they're the same soul, with the same will deep, deep down. The same drive to find you and protect you. The same love for you, an all-consuming love that destroys everything in its path to you and leaves ruin in its wake.

And if fate should one day keep you apart, should things change, for whatever reason, it’s unable to change him. There's another force even more powerful than fate determined to keep you together. The only thing more unavoidable, inevitable, and unescapable than fate, is Link himself.

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

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

In moments of passion, he changes a bit, unlike other more submissive yans who stay consistent in their reverence and desire to please.

You see, after a while, being as lenient and tolerant and flexible and completely devoted as he is... constantly self-sacrificing in so many ways, to you, to Hyrule, to the world... some frustrations build up. It's a big, big bottle of emotion, all tucked away and festering, getting greater and greater and eventually it has to explode somehow.

His reservations and inhibitions fall away. Perhaps a darker, more selfish side comes out. Perhaps that's why he's so rough. He knows he'll regret it later, the bruises from how hard he grips, the marks from the bites, but the hormones and the heat takes over. He'll feel bad for defiling you. He'll apologize. And he'll do it again. And again. And again.

But once the resolve crumbles, it topples. That is, he can't partially maintain it -- if it's partially gone, it falls apart completely. He lets go, so to speak. And when he lets go, you find that underneath that carefully constructed resolve and willpower that holds him back, he can be a very, very rough and possessive lover. In his normal state, he wouldn't dare think of you as a possession, or as something he's even worthy of. He would like so, so much to think that, to feel like he's allowed to -- but he doesn't. He chastises himself for even having such a desire. But in those moments, when his resolve is gone and his brain isn't thinking quite too clearly, he might even have to audacity to say "mine." Even if it's not true, not now, maybe it will be. He would like that so much. His and his alone.

And in a moment of clarity, he might even throw away the inhibition on purpose. The more selfish side, the same Link that drags you away from your destiny -- he's already forsaken his responsibilities, hasn't he? Why care anymore about the structures that no longer exist, your status and his, if there's no kingdom left? He likes that it happened, even. This way, this time, you can throw off those titles, those roles. Without your status, your title, there's nothing stopping him from making you his. And you will be his, and nothing more. It's all you need to be. So he doesn't have to care anymore about any of that, he doesn't have to stop himself from going wild. Biting into every little spare patch of skin, covering your body with marks that make him feel comforted to see.

As far as drive it's a bit of a two-sided duality. Outwardly he's not a very sexual person at all, blushes and stutters and averts his gaze at the slightest mention of suggestive topics, tries his best to be Respectful(tm) by always looking away when you're in a compromising position, or your skirt flies up, etc etc. Given how constant his vigilance is, he has a tendency to accidentally walk in on your changing or bathing, except unlike with many yanderes, it's genuinely an accident. Not that the image doesn't stick in his mind, nor does he wish he hadn't gotten to see, but he does feel guilty, and it was genuinely unintentional. He kinda freezes up, so it takes a moment for him to actually snap out of it and run out.

That being said, he quickly develops something of a masturbation addiction when he's younger, it starts as more of a stress reliever than anything, He's so sweet and always feels bad about talking about his problems and feelings, so that and, well, violence are the only ways he can get it out. Thus he learns to channel stress and nerves into sexuality, and once he has a real living body and not just his hand, that dependency on cumming to relieve it doesn't change.

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

Particularly so, yes, cares quite a bit. And it takes a while for him to feel comfortable. Even consensually, the first few times he touches you for several months, he's got trembling hands and stays quieter than ever, constantly freezes up every time you move or make a noise because he thinks he's done something wrong. He has to be coaxed into feeling more comfortable before he gets used to it, but he will build confidence over time.

As addressed before, though, if he's pushed and pushed and pushed long enough, you can get a darker side to come out. This is most likely something that would only occur post-kidnapping in a distant time, once he's far away from any possibility of consequence and destruction has set in to the world around you. He starts to get a little bitter, if you've been mean to him. It all builds up. Don't you get that he's literally saved your life? That he devoted every waking second to you? Isn't he kinda entitled to some thanks? The cycle of time never rewards him. Even the figures he helps over time rarely give him more than a verbal praise and thanks, maybe an item here or there, and then disappear. His role feels thankless. He starts to feel like he deserves something, something tangible, in return.

Surprisingly, though, he actually does not take the route of guilt-tripping or emotional manipulation or gaslighting his way into it like a lot of the sweeter yanderes when he does have that snap. His snaps/breakdowns are rather extreme in terms of how much of a polar opposite they are to his normal state, rather than just a slight bend of his normal personality. Rather than taking the route of most yanderes like himself, he just gets directly physically forceful. Still somewhat sweet, though, reminds you he loves you, he'd die for you, you're his entire world. You'd argue that doesn't really change the actions, but considering how frightening he is in that state, you're not dumb enough to vocalize that.

The guilt consumes him alive afterwards. Like, immediately afterwards. He's still panting and twitching and buried inside when it sets in. That being said, he doesn't get to stuttering and profusely apologizing, like he does over smaller offenses. It's all done and he can't take it back, so he just kinda collapses and says nothing. He's not the best with words, you know. It's an odd mixture of guilt and, honestly, a bit of satisfaction and relief. It feels like letting go of some self-imposed burden, that feeling of finally surrendering to some deep want, even if it comes with a lot of remorse, the relief of finally letting go does have a good feeling as well... and because of that, it’s another one of those barriers that, once broken, can’t be built up again.

What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

In all honesty the boy is, for the most part, a fairly gentle and vanilla lover. He doesn't really need anything special to get off -- he's easily excited and cums very very easily too. Just the prospect of getting to stick his dick in you in any capacity is enough to make him nearly burst at the thought honestly.

In general, as aforementioned, he's very very cautious and gentle to a point, but has a tendency to get actually kinda rough once he gets into it. The thing is, the roughness aspect is actually unintentional. He's one of those boys that is a little bit unaware of his own strength, doesn't process exactly how hard and fast he's going. He just gets lost in the feeling, kinda enters a dazed lusty haze where he's less aware of his actions. Doesn't realize he's literally got an iron grip pressing your head down on his dick or into the bed until you start flailing your hands because you can't breathe. Doesn't realize how hard he was gripping until he sees the bruises on your arms and hips later. That sort of deal -- poor thing is just unaware and doesn't have enough blood in his brain to think straight.

Biting

Surprisingly a really big one for him. (Remnants of a past life cycle with some lupine experiences perhaps?) In all seriousness, he could not explain exactly why if asked, it's one of those "I just like it" sort of things. It feels like yet another way to conjoin the two bodies, pulls you close. The marking aspect is also nice. Granted, he feels guilty afterwards, tries to help it heal. He has that same duality where moments ago he was this intimidating beast of a human being, rough and growly and jerking you like you were weightless, and now he's back to this bright eyed softie stuttering while he apologizes.

The guilt is mixed with a bit of enjoyment, though. It's constantly conflicting -- sure, part of him understands it's embarrassing and will help you cover up, but part of him doesn't want to, he wants people to see. Part of him looks at the marks and tells himself internally to never do that again, and part of him sees them and just wants to give you even more. It's a constant internal conflict, poor thing.

As far as a place, he likes the neck and shoulders best, simply because it's the most visible and it's the most passionate ones to create, when your bodies are tightly locked together. That being said, though, he also has a thing for biting at the insides of your thighs. It's another one of those I just like it sort of things.

Sometimes, when you're asleep, or pretending to be, you can feel him trace the bite marks with his fingers, softly running them over the circular pattern, just enough to barely ghost over your flesh.

Somnophilia

It puts him at ease. This one is particularly prevalent towards the beginning of your relationship, before you really know... how he is. He has this image of you as so pure and he couldn't bear the thought of defiling you with his horrible horrible thoughts. The guilt eats away at him for a while, but eventually he just can't hold back, but how could he ever do anything to you and risk consequence? So... the solution he comes up with is waiting until you sleep.

He tests the waters to see how heavy of a sleeper you are. Calls your name at increasing volume, lightly runs his fingers over your hair, pokes your face, whispers in your ear, runs his hands over your arms. Just to see what makes you rustle, if anything, so he knows the limits. If it turns out you're an incredibly light sleeper, well, unfortunately that means he's limited to just jerking off to your sleeping form, but that's ok. Just seeing your soft face and the cute way you breathe, the slightest way your lips open, that's enough for him.

If it turns out you're a heavier sleeper though, well, he tries to fight the temptation, but ends up going further. Slowly climbs onto your bed, careful to make the weight shift as gently as possible. Slowly pulls the covers back. Runs his hands up and down. It's a lot better when he can actually see your body as he jerks off, honestly. If he's feeling particularly risky, he might press your thighs together, feel how soft your skin is to his cock, how nice the squeezing pressure between them is.

He gets easily lost in a haze, though, so he inevitably ends up accidentally cumming on you and has to frantically find a way to lightly dab it up without waking you. He panics quite a bit, but that doesn't stop him from doing it again the very next night.

Overstimulation/Forced Orgasm

It just means he's doing a good job, really. Sure, you squeal and kick your feet back and forth and tug at his hair, but that's just because it feels good. Orgasms equate to love and feel good, right? Sure there's a little bit of pain when you go overboard, but then it just leads to feeling even better, right?

It's kind of an irrational compulsion rather than a logical goal, though. He just has an impulsive need to feel you quiver and spasm and clench, it basically gives him a chemical high hit and a wave of reassurance, makes him feel good in both the physical sense and the emotional sense. The first one sends him into this compulsive need to feel it over and over and over again, as many times as he can. It's another one of his internal conflict things -- sure, he knows it's hurting, but he just has to get one more. Just one more. But of course, every time turns into "just one more" when he's been saying that for half an hour now.

And, to be honest, it kind of gives him a pride boost to think he can make you cum against your will. How many people struggle to achieve that even when both parties are trying? It makes him feel good in an adequacy sort of way, he feels needed.

Size Kink/Distension

You know, there's a well-known thing among the male-lovers in this world when it comes to size. It's never the arrogant, loud guys, it's never the social butterflies, it's never the tall guys, it's never the beefy muscly guys. No, they're not the ones that end up somehow bestowed with absolute monster cocks. It's always the soft, lean boys who don't talk much. And they're always painfully unaware of it, too.

He's no exception. Not to the size or the complete lack of awareness. He hasn't spent a lot of time around guys his age too much, he's always been the one sent for some special task and ends up out in the wilderness by himself on journeys, or, in some lifetimes, accompanying you most of the time. He doesn't know what the average dick looks like, so he has no idea he's far above average.

This might sound like a plus, and of course in some ways it is, but also he doesn't think about the fact that the average body isn't properly equipped to handle it. You're supposed to just kinda put it in, that's how the sex works, right? Poor thing, especially if it's entirely consensual sex, he's just kinda ???? because why are you in pain? What is he doing wrong? You have to eventually explain it's literally just his body, not something he's doing.

That being said, naturally, he's a humble person, but hearing you say that does kinda... make him feel good inside. A little bit proud. He's not a person who takes a lot of pride in many things, so he likes having this one thing, and quickly notices you can visibly see it through the bulge it makes in your stomach. Especially if it's in a position where your back is pressed to his front, every little movement creates the bulge, so expect to get a lot of that.

He doesn't really bring it up much or talk about it when he's actually fucking you, it's more like, as with many things, something he's quietly aware of and silently enjoys a lot internally, even if it's not voiced.

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

Yes and no. It has to do with his overactive protection instinct. What if something happened or went wrong? He couldn't take that. He couldn't lose you.

At the same time, he likes kids, and he's very good with them, very patient. And over time, realizes that a kid would be the perfect tool of manipulation, and besides that, isn't it a beautiful thing, an ultimate manifestation of love?

So how to work around that... Ultimately, what he decides to do is have a kid... Just not by blood. There are plenty of orphans in Hyrule, wandering the streets and the wilderness, picking one up is easy. ...You wouldn't leave this poor child to suffer out there, to fend for themselves, would you? Nor would you leave him to take care of it by himself... Right?

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

Oh, it's not like he thinks of it that way. He would call it... a reminder. You put yourself in danger again? You tried to go back again? You were gone and for ten whole minutes he didn't know where you were? What could the solution to this issue be? The only thing his brain can really come up with is making sure you need him. Making sure you're content and satisfied here with him so you don't go running off.

Thus we return to the forced orgasm thing -- see, you do need him. It feels good, right? You say it hurts, and maybe it does a little, but ultimately you wouldn't be cumming if it wasn't good. No one else can ever do that. No one else knows you like this. No one else was made for you like this. You can't replace him. You need him. And he can keep going as many times as it takes until you see that, too. Even if he gets milked dry, he has a mouth and hands for a reason.

And by "until you see that," I mean until you say it. In his more... emotionally intense moments, he gets a bit insistent. He needs to hear you say it. Admit it to yourself. And to him. That you need him, that you depend on him, that you'll never leave again. And don't think your patience and tolerance can stand a chance of outlasting his -- it will keep going until you say it.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

He's one of those wholesome type of boys who goes with something sweet. He says maybe your hair, your face, your skin, your eyes. It's all so comforting. So familiar. Of course, not to say that he doesn't like your less wholesome mentionable parts, but he wants to be chivalric about such a question, and feels answering that way would be too disrespectful.

In his unspoken thoughts, though, he likes the hips. It's a part of you he can grab onto and hold you close with. He puts his hands there a lot and holds tight, like he feels like at any moment you could slip out of his grasp. And, I mean, it's nice to look at, can't forget that.

#atml #scheduled post #yandere x reader #yandere legend of zelda #yandere link

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outivv · 4 years ago

Note

The idea of the boys missing you really makes me soft. Imagine them suddenly stopping whatever they're doing thinking "I wonder where they are, I wish they were here" and feeling all the more lonelier once they remember you won't be coming home before a good while :( (I feel like the most love-starved ones would be especially affected, like Diluc and Xiao) Hcs for these two + Zhongli and Childe longing their s/o and what they do to cope with the gap? How often do they think about them, what do they miss the most about them? What's their first reaction seeing them back, how clingy are they afterwards?

Synopsis: clingy headcanons with genshin characters

Characters: Diluc, xiao, zhongli, and Childe

Warnings: none it’s really just fluff

Game/ fandom: genshin impact

Pronouns for reader: gender neutral/ not mentioned

A/n: hello! Thank you for requesting! I personally am very clingy so writing this just made me feel very soft :’) I hope you enjoy, and have a nice day!

— Diluc —

I’m pretty sure we can all accept that Diluc is super touch starved. And I personally feel like he just always craves your touch. He isn’t like creepy about it though. He just wants to feel loved :(

So when you say that you’re going to liyue for a couple of days to get some materials, he feels his heart absolutely drop. He’s not gonna show it though. He’s too stubborn for that.

He literally can’t sleep without you. He just needs the comfort of you being in the same house. He tosses and turns almost all night until he just gets up and starts working. The maids are very confused, and of course they start gossiping. As usual.

He thinks about you all. the. time. Eating breakfast is a reminder of how you aren’t there to make him smile right away in the morning. Going to mondstadt feels lonely even though he’s surrounded by people.

All of this makes him sound like he’s not self sufficient. Which... no, he is. He can handle himself but the gears in head are turning relentlessly with the thought of you constantly.

He mostly just starts working more with your absence. There isn’t much else to do without you here, so why not get some work done.

What Diluc misses most about you is your presence. He just wants you to be there, with him.

The moment you walk back into the winery, he rushes out of his office and calmly (not very calmly) goes down the stairs to embrace you in a warm hug.

He’s pretty clingy afterwards. He puts some work things on hold and just spends a few days with you. For these few days he is strictly little spoon. No if, ands, or buts. He is little spoon.

Constantly tells you how he missed you and loves you. You rarely see this side of him, so make sure to treasure it. For it is fairly short lasting.

— xiao —

Oh boy. He rarely gets clingy with you, but when he does he doesn’t hold back. And when he finds out you’re leaving for a few days to go help someone named jean with some stupid hilichurl problems for a few days. He is lowkey grumpy, but at the same time he understands.

Xiao isn’t good with coping... he bottles everything inside and kinda just expects it to go away. (But xiao that’s not gonna work when you keep thing about it)

He constantly thinks about you. He wonders if you’ll be ok, what you’re doing in mondstadt, and even if you’re safe with the people you’re staying with. He just wants to make sure you’re ok.

What he misses most about you is just your voice. He just wants to listen to you talk about the dumbest things. Sometimes he finds it annoying but he never realized how much he’d miss your “annoying” voice until now.

His first reaction is just a mix of shock, and a ‘holly shit I just want to hug them but don’t want to seem weird’. So he just kinda... stands there, holding onto the end of his shirt wanting to hug you so freaking bad. Please just hug the poor boy :(

He would be extremely clingy afterwards, but he doesn’t want to be. He wants to hold you so close, and bury his face in the crook of your neck as you play with his hair. But instead he just sits two feet away from you staring at the ground.

He doesn’t know how to initiate it so he’s gonna wait for you to. But once you do... you aren’t getting up. He quite literally has infinite time to waste, so you aren’t getting up.

— Zhongli —

Zhongli is an independent adult who can survive on his own for about a week as you help beidou with some stuff on her ship. That being said he literally can’t sleep without you.

Like he will hold onto your pillow cause he just can’t sleep without you next to him.

He doesn’t exactly cope with it either... he’s like xiao, and waits for it to go away except he keeps reminding himself that you’ll be back in x amount of days.

He thinks of you a lot. Zhongli has an impeccable memory, so it’s not really a surprise when he thinks of you a lot.

He misses the sight of you the most. A bit odd I know. But he genuinely just loves staring at you. Just admiring the minor things you do, and you still look gorgeous.

Zhongli isn’t a very clingy person at all, but he does still have his moments. Another thing he misses most is cuddling with you and feeling you play with his hair. Just holding you so close and your hands run through the long strands of his hair.

When he sees you he greets you with a kiss and hug, and whispers in your ear an ‘I love you, and I thought if you everyday’

He won’t be very clingy at first, but then it kicks in that you were gone for a little over a week. Zhongli s basically like, ‘wow you were gone for a little over a week and now you’re here... huh... well time to cuddle with my s/o’

He’s just a bit softer with you than he usually is. And that’s saying something because zhongli is typically very soft, and gentle with you.

— Childe —

Sheesh, when you told him that you were called out for a commission in mondstadt that would take a while, he just started pouting. Like a baby. An actual child.

He understands that work is work, and also understands what going away due to said work is like. So he understands and respects you for that. But that doesn’t mean he has to like it.

Literally every morning he just groans cause you aren’t next to him to kiss him, and say good morning.

He thinks of you all the time, but it’s like ‘hey I wonder what y/n would like for dinner? Wait... goddammit they’re not here... well... that sucks for me’

He doesn’t really have time to cope, so he just constantly tries to think if other things than you.

When you get back Childe is all over you. No joke, mans literally drags you back home to cuddle.

Will constantly tell you how much he loves you and not to leave for that long again, and that next time he’s coming with you.

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sketchehm · 8 months ago

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omg i JUST saw this so sorry!!

Oh I love everything about this but especially in the ways I can debate against it pft

I guess to start off, I will say I don't think Tommy ever got to actually forgiving Dream and vice-verse, because of the nuke haha

But I think that was the beauty of it really. Life just is like that sometimes, realizing things too late but realizing them none the less. It's that click and it changing a large part of how you view yourself and the world around you.

My line of "forgiving your abuser randomly for some flimsy reason" was more taking what I saw most toxic c!tommy apologists were saying the finale was about and how they hated it for that, which I had hard disagreed with from the get-go.

I will agree that the relationship between child and parent isn't the right kind of relationship to relate between Dream and Tommy because they are peers, and that kind of dynamic isn't the same. While bully and victim can also be related(as Tommy has claimed Dream to be a bully), there is this nagging idea in my head of viewing a bully and their victims in a school setting(while I know this isn't always the case), which means that there is at least someone of higher power who can potentially stop the bully that a victim can go to, be it a teacher, staff, police, or family (even if none give the help the victims need). Dream being the owner of the server (more coined as tyrant hah) is thought up by the other server members as the reason why Dream has more power over them(aside from his own pvp prowess and ability to prove on his own why he is more powerful than majority of them). It's just assumed power tbf, a kind of propaganda Wilbur had used to further antagonize and villainize Dream for his own agenda. Something that stuck throughout and something Dream had started to use himself for his own plan. A bully will choose their victim for the pure reason to feel power over those weaker than them, which is not Dream at all.

However, it is the seemingly absolute power a parent has over their child, despite most outside forces, that reminded me most of Dream and Tommy. It's the belief of Dream needing to protect his home and bring happiness/peace to those in his home and finding the reasons why his actions are justifiable, makes me think of a parent. It's many children's belief that if they can't turn to their own parents for help, who can actually help them? A child can try and go against/stand up against their parent, but it's mostly seen as a "rebellious phase" and a more cruel parent will double down on how they reprimand their child, even if those "lessons" seem to stick less and less. And it will appear the child is just doing actions that visibly go against their own parent for no apparent reason but to get them angry.

To the part of where I think Tommy is right, based on him being reactionary. It could be my memory failing as I haven't actively been rewatching streams and a lot of it is from my memory from like 2 years ago, so apologizes if I do start recollecting things incorrectly (or perhaps twitter did rot my bad that badly), but putting myself in Tommy's shoes and also trying to see what he had done from as an unbiased view as possible, I stand by what I say haha

I think its really easy to see Tommy's actions as something he's doing just to get his own way and purposefully go against Dream. However, if you look at Tommy's own environment and character relations, in particular with Wilbur towards the beginning, you can begin to understand why Tommy is seemingly always taking the first move against Dream. Even when Tommy first joined and displayed the breaking of Dream's most basic rules, leading to his ban, we are given the understanding to Tommy's state of maturity when he is allowed back on. It isn't to say he should be excused for what he did because of that state, but there is an understanding of why he then acted as he did. And in that sense, it does take a more mature person to think, I understand how this person acts, how can I understand them further so they can understand me. There is a sort of more lenient back and forth between Tommy and Dream afterwards. Dream is also trying to keep Tommy happy by playing into his habits, as he understands, that's just how Tommy is. They kill each other and fight for the discs in an albeit light manner and with less consequences. Tommy is crude and does what he wants and Dream purposefully reacts but doesn't ban him again. It isn't until the introduction of Wilbur that Tommy is constantly led to believe that Dream is power hungry because of what he is told, because he isn't told to antagonize Dream just for a light hearted back and forth, but to attack Dream for honor and respect of his home under the guise of protecting it.

It's like someone telling you to poke a sleeping bear with a stick as a way to get it out of your path because its a danger to have it there without you knowing that if you left the bear be and find a different path, you wouldn't be attacked by an angry bear. And now that you have been attacked, its that person saying "See" and now the decision is to fully drive the bear away with whatever tools you have at your disposal so it never hurts you or anyone else again. But, that was the bear's home first, why are you driving it off when you could've just left it alone. Well it's because someone else told you to antagonize it initially with the claim that its dangerous and that claim being proven true. And while the bear has finally been driven off after trying to get rid of you from its home, its the paranoia that one day it will return to attack you again, so you need to make sure it never will. You need to kill it. And you aren't wrong in thinking that because you have personal experience that this bear is aggressive and has hurt you severely before. You aren't objectively wrong for going after the bear when all you were ever to believe is that the bear will attack you. Objectively, to you, it is correct to make sure the bear will never hurt anyone again, because it is wrong for anyone to be hurt.

You think your own actions are right when you have no real understanding of who you are going against. It's Wilbur convincing L'manburg that Dream is taking their home away from them and leading them to antagonize Dream until he takes a drastic measure to finally end the war and show them that it isn't their land to claim or abuse. He takes their lives in the button room. It is extreme behavior Dream took before Exile ever happened. It's Tommy burning down George's home as a light joke, as arson has been used as a means to prank others before and the punishment for it has been near to non-existent, which was soon repaired afterwards and George himself barely realizing what was wrong, and the continued perceived intense counteraction Dream is taking against L'manburg and then Tommy that reinforces this ideal even further.

It's the discs that set up this constant back and forth against Dream and Tommy of what is something that they can truly claim as their own. Tommy can't have both discs and L'manburg and Dream can't have everyone happy and also keep the peace of his home. It sounds ridiculous because one is material and the other isn't, but it says a lot about their character and their state of mind and growth to the things and people around them. And you can't discredit that. If the disc meant the world to Tommy, when to us it should've been his own friend's lives, that's just the state of his worldview. If a 16 year old guy has yet to reach emotional maturity compared to a 21 year old guy who led a completely different life and seemingly has reached it already, how is that either of their faults. How are they to ever understand each other.

We can't say what is objectively wrong or right when it isn't our world and our societal ideals to truly judge. We can only try and base our own world ideals to try and match a seemingly similar world. Their ages mean little to nothing to me personally because it could've been a 25yr old vs. a 35 year old and I still would have based it more on their state of maturity that they're in that point of their lives. But considering how their ages seem to take a bigger role in their world (albeit most likely because of twitter pushing that more strongly and the streamers running with it), then it is safer to say that their ages DO have more of an impact here. Someone considered a minor is given more forgiveness by a larger majority of the server maybe because the endless freedom and lack of parental guidance prevents some more than others to control their inhibitions, which in turn, takes them a longer time to mature. But that is just a personal understanding based on how the people of this world reacts to people under the age of 18. Considering this is a work of fiction, I will try and perceive this world's fictious social rules and standings as it isn't my world. Just the concept of murder is taken to an extremely different degree to ours. We don't know when murder is in jest or as a way to show punishment until we know the context. You can punch as a way to poke someone in annoyance or as a way to threaten someone. You can burn down your best friend's house and they might just feel mildly inconvenienced by it or completely blow up in your face about it. If Dream banned Tommy for breaking his rules in the beginning, why couldn't he ban him again when the behavior repeated right after? It's even funnier how one of Dream's rule to not grief, got broken, and then came back through viewers thinking every build is sacred and shouldn't be destroy/touched/griefed. I can't jump into a sci-fi world and expect my world morals are the same as the people in that world.

With that said, our objective judgement on who is right and who is wrong is skewed. However, we as an audience are still led to believe that both Tommy and Dream have wronged each other through out their time on this server. That is objectively true. We can't project our struggles and hardships when our experiences are something they never have dealt with. It's about empathizing with what we are seeing now, not deciding to empathize if we think they have suffered equally or more than us. Everyone has different pain tolerances; we need to put ourselves in their shoes.

To me, Tommy's actions are reactionary based on his own understanding of his perceived enemy. He's reactionary not just to Dream's actions, but to his own propaganda convinced conviction, paranoia, and past experiences.

Tommy and Dream were both right. In the grand scheme of things, they both were doing things to protect themselves. Dream's right to a happy home as he had created it all first and should fight to keep it as he wants and Tommy's right trying to keep a home he was led to believe held his idea of happiness in a land he was invited to and to stand up for that right. Just because one ideal seems more self-centered then the other doesn't mean that person has realized that themselves yet.

The finale was a way to show how both Tommy and Dream are humans and both reacted to their situations in way too damaging ways. There is no going back and there is hardly a way to heal from each other.

No. c!Tommy was never right about anything.

Nah, Tommy was right.

Instances of Tommy being right:

[Dsmp Finale]

30:27 "You know what, Dream? You know what, Dream? I’m sorry because you’re right."

38:27 "You—you—you didn’t have a bad thought in your mind, it was just George and Sapnap."

38:53 "That’s why you’re doing this isn’t it? You just want it to be simple."

40:12 "You just wanted it to be simple, you wanted to be back with your friends. That makes sense."

41:52 “I just didn’t realize how much that hurt you.”

#ehm reblogs #ehm yaps #my worms are going crazy #and my love for both sides of c!discduo is especially showing oops #oh my god this is WAY too long #its 3am as well #im going to wake up and realized i worded none of this correctly or sensibly #c!discduo

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