#no matter the temptation/knowledge you could be seen to help some people

[appendingfic]

"Joe Biden sucks because he hasn't turned around and used this blank check of infinite power from the SC to wield absolute unchecked authority" look I'm not generally a "certain things are inherently bad" person but I'm generally against people taking advantage of absolute power

[deathbxnny]

Hello! Could I request some Xianyun, Guizhong and Rukkhashava x Immortal genius yet somewhag lazy Gn!Reader? (The reader is one if not the most intelligent people on all of Teyvat. Their craft so top tier that most people considered them a deity for their impressive knowledge and craft. They are basically unrivaled in terms of intelligent solving the most complex and complicated problems in a matter of seconds and have the besg stategic and organization skills. But because of this they often find themselves unmotivated or bored pretty quickly not giving them enough motivation to work much)

Genshin women with a lazy Immortal!Reader. | Rukkhadevata, Xianyun, Guizhong x Gn!Reader

Hello Anon!! Thank you for your request, and I am sorry for taking so long. I hope you'll like this!<3

Content: Immortal reader, unserious, established relationship, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not proofread))

》RUKKHADEVATA

She loves your mind and the way it overflows with wisdom daily, despite your clear lack of motivation for anything. Working around your laziness to earn more of your cherished thoughts and opinions has become somewhat of a little challenge for her that she enjoys. You indirectly get her to theorize deeply and contemplate every crumb of knowledge you give her, something she craves.

With that said, your place as a near diety at her side is greatly respected by her own people. You are seen as a savior, as a second power to her home, and every opinion you do muster up the energy for to share is listened to gratefully by her. She therefore doesn't mind your lazy nature and perhaps even thinks that you're deserving of it. Someone so intelligent deserved to rest their mind every now and then after all.

She hopes to experience the world changing and evolving at your side, whilst you two share it's knowledge at your own pace.

》XIANYUN

Slacking off with her around is impossible, to say the least. Your highly respected status in Liyue is near disregarded by her every time she drags you out of your resting place to work with her on a new project. Attempting to hide is never an option, either. She sees your laziness as a self hindrance and doesn't want you to waste your talents so easily. She may nag you at times, but even you know she means it well.

Xianyun always has you inspecting her newest creations and demands you give her detailed feedback on each one. You indirectly push her to do better and match your own intelligence, but your easygoing nature often allows her to outdo you, something she's smug about. She, however, still often times wishes you'd find the motivation to craft something with her, which you do after enough (affectionate) nagging.

She respects you for the immortal genius that you are but doesn't treat you any differently from anyone else. If anything, she wants to see you grow even stronger at her side.

》GUIZHONG

She gets it. She really does. There are days when even she would rather slack off than work on her latest projects, something you take full advantage of. But when she is able to resist your lazy temptations, she makes you work alongside her and does her best to make the activities as fun as possible. Whether it was creating new battle strategies to aid Rex Lapis with or creating projects for the both of you, she was always able to spin things in a way that did get you to work in the end. She also would just kindly ask you for help often or for your expertise in general, as you rarely ever said no to her.

She never liked pushing you too much, though, as she feared somehow overworking you or making you feel like she only wanted you for your intelligence. Guizhong, therefore, allowed you to laze with her in her home whenever you have some downtime where she'd play instruments or sing for you. In a way, she worshipped you as a diety, too, even if quietly through her own special way.

Guizhong sees herself as lucky to have you, especially as she doesn't always understand how she was able to acquire such a strong and intelligent person like you.

[randommusingofnothing]

St Dunstan-in-the-East and 1941/1967

Diving back into Tumblr with this one. Haven't written meta musing in years, here we go. All photos & gifs are not mine, but used for help illustrating my thoughts.

I've been fascinated diving into the possibility of hidden details surrounding the bombed church in 1941. Neil Gaiman confirmed that he had St Dunstan-in-the-East in mind for it, while Douglas Mackinnon explained why it doesn't quite match up visually.

Here's the thing.. there's an odd coincidence with the Good Omens timeline further along once we establish St Dunstan's as the setting.

We also can't talk about this without mentioning the eagle lectern standing at the end of the hall in Crowley's apartment throughout Season 1.

The same one that survived the bombing of the church in 1941. Neil states that Crowley bought it from the people who demolished the church. Despite how minimalist Crowley keeps his apartment, he kept a souvenir of probably one of the most important nights in their history we've seen so far, and the only flashback that appears in both seasons.

This is where things start to unintentionally (or maybe intentionally, who knows) start to align.

The history of St Dunstan's has a second specific year that coincides with another critical point on the Good Omens timeline.

From Wikipedia - "In the re-organisation of the Anglican Church in London following the War it was decided not to rebuild St Dunstan's, and in 1967 the City of London Corporation decided to turn the ruins of the church into a public garden, which opened in 1971."

The church sat destroyed for 26 years, until 1967 when suddenly the city decided to .. change it into a garden. A garden built on the ashes of holy ground. The same year this scene plays out.

But I want to go back to St Dunstan's in 1941 first, because some of the parallels of what happened during the flashback compared to what happened with Eden deserve some attention too. The Angel of the Eastern gate in a church bearing a direct reference to the eastern direction. A situation where Aziraphale has weaponized a temptation - offering knowledge in the form of prophecies to a set of humans, as a set up for them to fail and be caught by the authorities. Just as Crowley hinted about Adam and Eve were likely set up to fail by God by the too-obvious placement of the tree. The Snake of Eden himself, present in both situations. He's warning/tempting the Nazis to flee the church, due to his interference in where the bombs would land that night, a similarity to how Adam & Eve fled Eden due to the chain of events he set in motion by tempting Eve. He even takes the time to discuss 'getting into trouble' and introducing his newest name to Aziraphale, just like they did on Eden's walls. And just like Eden, Crowley relies on Aziraphale to shelter him once the skies start to fall.

This time though, a garden springs from the ruins of a holy ground he helped to tear down. A garden created & enjoyed by all humanity.

Phew. Back to 1967.

With these matching timelines.. Did Aziraphale's gesture in handing over the holy water + indicating a picnic or lunch at the Ritz was more his speed cause Crowley to get sentimental over their past? Did he influence the city into doing something with the church's grounds as an unspoken thank you to Aziraphale, also gaining himself access to the lectern to buy & take home? He waited 26 years before buying that lectern, so why did it suddenly matter to him in 1967? He could have gone and stolen it whenever he wanted prior to then.

Or did Crowley make the first move here? Did he influence the city government into doing something first with St Dunstan's as an unspoken attempt to reach out? Which caught Aziraphale's attention, reminding him of Crowley's comments about holy water and causing him to look further just what he was up to at this time?

If there's one thing that strikes me during the car conversation, is that it feels like something broke again between these two between 1941 and 1967. They aren't acting like they are in the same headspace or relationship development that they were when we last saw them, drinking wine and agreeing on shades of gray in 1941 part 2. (Enter my thoughts that there's a third act to 1941 in season 3, as evidenced by Aziraphale's mention of a yet-unseen apology dance). Either one of them instigating a reach out after a period of silence via an act of service feels on brand, similar to Crowley's breaking of their 80-year silence by showing up to rescue Aziraphale in the first place in 1941.

Or it's simply digging in too deep on what is probably an occam's razor - Crowley took advantage of the city's renovation to buy the lectern for himself, without any additional motivations or reasons. It's just a coincidence that it matches up to 1967.

Any which way you look at it, Crowley getting the lectern, the church being transformed into a public garden, and Aziraphale's Holy Water all happen around the same time, thanks to the confirmation about the church's identity as St Dunstan-in-the-east. (Which is a lovely place, I visited it earlier this year, definitely recommend if you are looking for Good Omens-inspired locals).

[alyjojo]

Advice to Work on Yourself ⛸ in December 2022: Aries

2 Wands - 7 Swords - The Hermit

Regarding: 9 Cups

Story 1: At worst, you could be tempted to jump into some 3rd party situation and betray someone you are already committed to. The first row is saying your wish is deeply greedy, out for yourself, a manipulative trickster. You plan to jump into some new opportunity that will cause a lot of conflict, and be seen as cruel, vindictive & hurtful. Purposely being sneaky because you know this will cause pain, and betrayal, but that’s not stopping you.

Story 2: This would be more of a more in-depth explanation of the former gift reading, in that you don’t have any money. The way that you’re expressing this is very avoidant, dodging, sneaky in behavior but not intent. Not exactly. You don’t want to be held accountable because your pride is on the line, though others may feel betrayed by you not showing up to celebrate, not calling, not letting anyone know what is going on. They may be thinking the worst of you when that is not actually the case, but you’re not exactly helping either.

The advice is The Hermit to anything new, celebrations with friends, reuniting with people, whether family you’re afraid will have some ignorant shit to say, or someone on the side you know will cause problems. 10 Cups & King of Cups is one person in particular, the vibe is this is the person you should be doing this for, this is who makes you happy. Could be a Cancer with the crab 🦀 charm here. If there’s maybe one family member that would be especially hurt, do something with just them, let them in. If it’s your person, you can’t get better than 10 Cups so WYD? With love 💗

Animal Oracle: Snow Leopard 🐆

“Take some time out of your usual life and spend it in solitude.”

It can be difficult to spend time in solitude these days, to unplug from electronics and get into nature, or off by yourself, if only for a few hours. Although you may feel anxious or restless when you first do this, you’ll relax. Use this time for contemplation and meditation, it’s not isolation, it’s solitude. If possible, take a full day off to yourself, and do whatever you want to do. Enjoy the feeling of sacred space around you in solitude, and know you’re never alone.

Artist Oracle: ALIGHIERO BOETTI

- Know who you aren’t.

- Find clarity in clutter.

- There’s more than one way to read a map.

Advice:

- Knowledge is Power

- Attend a Yoga Class

Charms:

Peace ☮️ on Alighiero, specifically “know who you aren’t”, shows you know better than whatever you’re doing or however you’re acting. You’re aiming for peace, not more problems, and The Hermit is saying you really need to take time away from everything else to get down to the thick of it and ask yourself what you really want, and how it will change things.

Star of Fame 🌟 on 10 Cups is the attention you’re needing to give a specific person, could be family, could be your person, they’re the most important person in your life and deserve to be the star of the show. It wouldn’t be here if you didn’t feel that way, this would be a reading telling you it’s time to go. It’s not, it’s saying you’re acting out of character & need to be reminded what really matters to you 🙏

Crab 🦀 on King of Cups could just blatantly be a Cancer. Both have a hard outer shell that serves as protection for soft & squishy insides, and all of the emotions they have. This is an emotionally mature person, and the depth of their love runs deeper than most people, though they may not always know how to show their emotions openly, you can be certain they’re there, all of the time. Next to 10 Cups, this is a happy fairy tale ending, peak happiness. Maybe you felt this way before temptation threw you off track, it happens, but so far it’s not too far gone. It can also be a family member that loves you very much and would be hurt if you just blew them off & didn’t involve them in what’s going on. Up to you.

Fleur de Lis ⚜️ on Knowledge is Power is another blatant message that you know better than this, you’re smarter than how you’re behaving or acting in this situation. This charm is one of dignity, power, grace and acting with noble intent, showing this may be your actual reputation on a larger scale, who you are on a daily basis, something you don’t want to just throw away. Think more before you act.

[probably-haven]

Kaeya Alberich & Why his Failure is Inevitable

A theory on Kaeya’s reaction to- that event in his backstory.

take everything with a grain of salt , because it’s heavily based on assumptions, most of which are centered around his reaction to- backstory stuff, so gonna put that under the cut-. i actually originally said this in a reblog to someone asking the exact question awhile ago

im kinda in a content drought though so i might as well bring it back, hopefully some people find it interesting in this context though. Lol a lot of it is just seeing how angsty i can make it too so- ehe

actual content under the cut: (spoilers for kaeya’s backstory, diluc’s backstory, Khaenri’ah lore, and a bit of Childe’s backstory)

so the exact verbiage used in kaeya’s story for his reaction to Master Crepus’s death is: “Even someone like Master Crepus would submit to such a dangerous and evil power…” Sinister thoughts flashed through Kaeya’s mind, and he simply smirked— “This world is truly… fascinating.”

-

Now I’m actually pretty sure this quote ties in, not to the destruction of khaenri’ah, but to the cataclysm before it. Specifically, it deals with the Khaenri’ahn alchemist Gold who started it.

Canonically, Gold was an incredibly ambitious alchemist specializing in khemia 500 years ago. Their most well know achievement is corruption of the dragon Durin, but concealed much deeper in Teyvat’s history, a number of Gold’s legacies include incorporating the powers of the abyss into their alchemy(and eventually being corrupted by those very same powers, tho it might be a translation error), followed by the destruction of Khaenri’ah’s Eclipse Dynasty(including the royal family and the royal guards tasked with protecting the people of Khaenri’ah), and this was followed shortly by ‘using their talents to create an army of “shadowy monsters."’

these monsters, blood filled with the corruption of the abyss, would only continue pouring out of Khaenri’ah in waves until the fateful day that it was destroyed. The era of suffering these monsters caused would come to be known as the cataclysm.

-

taking those facts into account, it could be a remark about how even someone as kind hearted as Master Crepus could fall to the temptation and corrupting aspects of power that caused his people’s fall so long ago, even without the naturally corruptive effects of power from the abyss. that’s sad- but if you get into the theory of it its even sadder the further you go.

Now theory wise its important to make a few connections- I am under the impression that the “fall of the Eclipse Dynasty” that Gold caused through abyssal power was actually the first instance of Khaenri’ah’s curse, and the monsters of the cataclysm- were among the curse’s first victims.

a bit sadder with the fact that his statement can now refer to his feelings of there truly being nothing that could have been done to prevent the very same exact curse that has caused him so much suffering through his life. There was no resisting the corruption of power, only delaying it. It hammers in the fact that the reason he was sent to Mondstadt truly might be the destiny he had many times been told it was. A cruel joke from Celestia perhaps?

but not sad enough. let’s pull out the big one. The Khaenri’ahn Royalty Kaeya theory. (there’s a lot- im not gonna cover the explanation behind that one here)

Gold, the most powerful alchemist in Khaenri’ah would likely have worked under the Eclipse Dynasty, so assuming the theory of Kaeya(and Dainsleif) being the last member of the Eclipse Dynasty, its reasonable to say he would have known Gold. Now whether Gold was a good person or not is irrelivant because it remains the same either way. Kaeya has twice seen the corrupting abilities that come with power strip him of all those close to him, shouldering him with an additional responsibility to carry out in their memory that he never wanted. Yes this hurts more if he was close with Gold and Crepus managed to make him feel safe enough to get close to people even after that- but I’m here to provide the facts and theories, not the emotions, though theres a lot

but…. its a stretch(like a big stretch)… but for the sake of going all out on a limb, we can take this one step further.

In Childe’s story it references the abyss by saying “this dark realm had sensed the burning ambition in this boy’s heart” and it can be assumed that the powers granted by the abyss, as the natural opposition to Celestia(natural as in abyss magic literally opposes the magic of Celestia by nature) might just opporate in a similar way to the gnosises. Kaeya has no knowledge of gnosises though so for now lets use the word visions.

The powers of the abyss that were given to Gold would likely have been favored over visions from the gods in a godless nation like khaenri’ah afterall. and if he knew Gold, a known genius, he likely wouldnt have noticed anything off until it was too late. A sudden fall from his perspective. Visions, delusions, power from the abyss, what difference truly is there to a child raised to shun the gods. All are granted through ambition, and all will only end in suffering

afterthought:

However the main thing behind the Khaenri’ahn Royalty aspect of this angst fest- Kaeya would have been extremely young during Gold’s corruption and Khaenri’ah’s fall… like i cant help think of that one tik tok audio “that must be so confusing for a little girl” but it really does fit because now i can’t shake the imagery of Kaeya, faced with the imagery of the man who raised him dead as a result of a power he chose to use. And he finally understands what he was too young to understand back then. the world is not fascinating in a way that he is interested in it or wants to know more about it, but more interesting in the way that people’s eyes are involuntarily drawn to images of tragedy. It’s an expression of cruel irony, of truths he was forced to face, of knowledge he doesn’t want to know, but that he needs to know- if he plans on carrying through with his destiny- siding against Mondstadt. but siding with Mondstadt would cause him to turn against Khaenri’ah as Gold had all those years ago, and is that not fulfilling a cycle of fate all the same?

It’s an expression of mourning. He is chained by the legacy of Khaenri’ah and there’s nothing he can do to escape it. Either way the cycle will repeat. This fate gives him a unique power and even he will eventually succumb to it, doomed to be viewed as a corrupted betrayer no matter who he sides with, to doom yet another civilization in return. Such is his preordained role as the last hope of Khaenri’ah. The unescapableness, the way it all becomes so sure and clear and nauseatingly relevant in that very moment are what drive him to say that as he finally realizes that he cannot win.

-

of course a lot of this is a stretch and just theories, but the angst potential was there so i decided to run with it lmao

additional afterthought: this isn’t something kaeya would know, but the corruption of Durin by Gold was actually predicted by a priestess in dragonspine before Celestia destroyed it and made it like it is now.

just angsty because it reinforces the idea of a repeating cycle of foretold destiny that no matter hard hard Kaeya tries, he will never be able to escape. Really puts Mona’s “He believes he has made a clean break with his past, but one day fate will catch up with him” line into perspective.

[rockingrobin69]

Learning Curve

Four out of five dentists would recommend against reading this piece (1.7k). Think of your teeth! 

“Uncle Harry, did you know Uncle Draco is a weredragon?”

“A what now?” he frowned, tucking the duvet under Teddy’s chin.

“A weredragon. Like how dad was a werewolf, but with a dragon.”

Harry huffed a small chuckle. “I’m pretty sure he isn’t, Ted.” To be fair, considering all the things he’d learned about him since Malfoy adopted Teddy, Harry wouldn’t be too surprised if he actually turned out to be a weredragon. It won’t even be the most shocking discovery.  

“No, he is. All the best people are were-something, he said. So he’s a weredragon.”

Harry resisted the temptation to ask if he was a were-something, too. “All right then, menace, go to sleep. You can tell me on Sunday if you’d seen him turn.” He shook his head through all the begging, bargaining and trickery, until Teddy finally relented and closed his eyes. Harry chewed on his grin, pressed a kiss to Teddy’s forehead, murmured in his ear and left, silently closing the door behind him.

And then heading out with his usual gracefulness – accidentally knocking into the dresser with a big yelp, stepping over every creaking floorboard, smacking against the door because he wasn’t really looking ahead, he was looking for – ah. Malfoy heard him, it would seem. Standing at the kitchen doorway, leaning against it like some sort of model in a Muggle magazine, rolling his eyes. Harry noticed he was holding his breath.

“Care to join me for a drink, Potter?”

He didn’t know why he was nervous. This happened every night.

The thing is, Harry loved Teddy so much. So, so much, he even considered adopting him himself after Andromeda and all. But Harry’s stupid job was too stupid to allow it, and Malfoy was technically ‘family’. And so Harry came by every day – well, night, stupid job and all – to see how Teddy was doing. And then, every night, he’d run into Malfoy, who had no choice but to invite him for a drink. It would be wine, sometimes, or flavored butterbeer, or – and only once – straight up Ogden’s whisky. But mostly it’d be hot chocolate, which apparently was something Malfoy enjoyed, and something Harry seemed to find quite irresistible.  

Of all the new things he’d learned about Malfoy, this was perhaps one of the most surprising. He made the best hot chocolate. It was the perfect temperature, the perfect sweetness, the perfect texture. Perfection in a cup. Harry followed him into the kitchen, sat in his favorite chair (somewhat dangerously with the way Malfoy’s books were stacked so high behind his back), and turned his gaze to the fridge. Teddy’s newest masterpiece was magicked to the door, and even squinting Harry couldn’t tell what it was meant to be.

“A wolf,” Malfoy muttered as he laid a cup of hot cocoa before Harry. “Your godson is very talented, you know.”

Harry hummed into his cup, probably smearing his nose full of whipped cream. “Bet you I could draw a better one.”

He waited. Some nights Malfoy wasn’t in the mood. He’d be tired, or closed off, and they’d just sit there in silence and stare. Some nights he was restless, far too giddy to stay still, and they’d go for a walk in the forest. But tonight –

Tonight Malfoy was game. He scoffed and summoned two quills and some parchment. “Let’s see – five minutes, best drawing wins?”

Harry grinned privately to himself. There must have been something in that hot chocolate, because he couldn’t stop thinking about how he just loved spending nights at Wiltshire.  

*

“Uncle Harry,” Teddy asked one Sunday, sliding into his wellies. “Did you know that Uncle Draco had a pet a stag?”

“What?” Harry was busy arranging a beanie on his orange hair with his tongue between his teeth. “A pet stag?”

“Yeah, when he was a kid. I asked him why he likes them so much, and he told me. His name was Arold and he was very stupid, Uncle Draco said.”

“Arold?” Harry laughed, tilting his head. “Ted, you know Uncle Draco is messing with you, yeah? He never had a pet stag. You can’t have stags as pets.” Malfoy had peacocks, which he hated, and the eagle owl, which he loved, and that was that. No stags. Harry knew that. He picked up every single piece of information about Malfoy slowly, carefully, and catalogued it all in his head. Malfoy was afraid of hippogriffs (still) and very enthusiastic about nifflers. He wanted a kneazle really badly as a kid, but his mother was allergic to the fur. Harry knew these things, now. He even had this insane idea to get a kneazle for him and Teddy, a fantasy he liked to entertain from time to time. Teddy’s words brought him back to reality with his cheeks oddly flushed and his ears ringing.

“That’s what he said.”

Harry wondered why Teddy thought Malfoy liked stags to begin with, but he’d already ran outside and jumped into the nearest puddle, so the question had to wait.

Malfoy was in the kitchen when they returned, and Harry plopped down next to a steaming mug of hot cocoa. The clutter all around practically screamed we actually live here, and Harry felt the warmth of it in his bones. His eyes kept zooming from Malfoy, to Teddy, happily blabbering about the squirrel they’d seen on their walk, and something in him thrummed. We actually live here. The flavor of want was sweet and sadly familiar.

*

“Uncle Harry,” Teddy asked one night in November, a tired little bundle of curiosity that ached in Harry’s chest with affection, “What’s emveeos?”

“Huh?” Harry stopped at the doorway, eyebrows drawn.

“Emveeos. Like if I was emveeos of someone.” Teddy gave him an exasperated little look, a come on you should know this one when Harry simply shook his head. “Uncle Draco said he’s emveeos of me.”

“What? When?” Harry’s heart did a funny little leap. He still didn’t really understand the question, but apparently the mere mention of ‘Uncle Draco’ was enough to ignite this heat inside him.

“Because you always kiss me good night.”

Harry could only shrug, but the heat intensified into something near intolerable. “I dunno, Ted. Best to ask him tomorrow, yeah? You know Uncle Draco is better at these things.” Better at most things, really. Cooking, drawing, writing, teaching. He was just good at everything. Even dancing – Harry had seen photographs of a very sulky boy beautifully performing the tango, no joke. And he could make the best hot chocolate. And –

“Okay. Good night, Uncle Harry.”

“Good night, Menace. I love you.” Harry made sure to tell him that every night, even if Teddy was already asleep. It was good for him too, he thought, to get the practice.

That night there were mini marshmallows in the mug. Harry couldn’t help it anymore; he was so enamored with the �� drink – it felt a little like an explosive device in his chest. He found a way to distract Malfoy for a couple of seconds while he covertly drew a vial of the cocoa, stashing it in his pocket. There had to be something wrong with it, a potion or something. There had to, or Harry was losing his mind. He’d lost enough things for a lifetime, he thought.

*

“No, Uncle Harry! Cookies first.”

It was the week before Christmas, and Malfoy was out on a last minute gift shopping trip. Harry and Teddy were in the kitchen together, in charge of lunch, though Teddy was more interested in sampling the Christmas cookies Malfoy had made. To distract him Harry suggested they try to prepare Malfoy’s cocoa – well, also so he’d have something hot to drink when he comes back, because Malfoy always suffered from the cold.

“Oh, Uncle Draco doesn’t like hot chocolate,” Teddy shook his head.

“But,” Harry didn’t know what to do with this information, which stood in stark contrast with everything he knew in this life. “He drinks it all the time with me.”

“No, no, he says it’s too sweet. He never drinks it.”

Harry felt utterly lost. The knowledge he’d collected of Malfoy was the foundation with which he was trying to build this – it was what he stupidly thought he could use to make a home. Hell, he’s been practicing – getting ready for – and all this time, Malfoy was lying?

When Malfoy returned Harry pretty much threw himself at him, boxing Malfoy at the door with all his shopping bags.

“You don’t like hot chocolate,” he said accusingly, and Malfoy’s eyes went big.

“What?”

“You don’t. And you told Ted you had a pet stag and that you’ve embossed him or something like that. But you don’t like hot chocolate.”

“I – “ Harry’s never seen Malfoy so flushed in his life, and was furious with how adorable that was. “All right. I don’t.”

“But you make it almost every night,” Harry contested. He felt a little woozy.

“Yes.” When Harry gave an odd grunt, he closed his eyes. “You like it.”

“So?”

“So…” Malfoy’s shrug was so painfully sad. “I thought you’d… come here if you…”

Harry didn’t wait for the sentence to finally come to a stop, it was taking forever. “So you just lied?” 

“No!” two grey eyes opened, sort of panicked. “I just – I’ve been trying, all right? all this time, to learn to… to get to know you. All these things about you, and then I saw how much you liked it when I made hot cocoa for Teddy and – I just. Want you to. Have. Things that you like.”

Harry couldn’t feel his tongue. His head was spinning. He didn’t know what to do about this, didn’t know what to think, didn’t know – he just didn’t know. Sadness was familiar, and losing, and being lied to, but – but this –

“Kiss him, Uncle Harry!” a little voice carried from behind him, and startled he caught a glimpse of blue hair. Hell. A quarter of his age, and Teddy was at least twice as clever. Harry leaned forward and did the only thing that made sense, and the kiss was solid enough to build on. Malfoy’s lips were the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. Hot chocolate, no matter how good, could never compare.

Wow, I really ran away with this one... Today was day 6 of my Seven Sins of Drarry one-shot collection, and was all about - Teddy almost had it: envy! Hope you’re ready to be good, because there’s only one sin left!

Day 1: wrath   | Day 2: lust  | Day 3: sloth  | Day 4: greed  | Day 5: gluttony | Day 7: pride

[diavolosthots]

Hey man so idea. Some angst with mammon when he realizes he might not be a good choice for mc because of his financial issues and then mc telling him that it's ok.

Its 12:03 am which means my day off is over so here is this

Warning: VERY MILD angst-> happy ending

Greed and Money (MAMMON X GN!READER)

Greed. The word is most often associated with money, but greed can be so much more than that. Greed can be for power, or knowledge, or even something as simple as food and exercise. You can be greedy for a sense of family, or your life’s purpose. Greed, by definition, is the intense, and more often than not, selfish desire for something; a desperate need or yearn to have something, to own it, that anything that stands in the way of it, can and most likely will be eliminated. Greed is one of the seven major sins and by far one, if not the, worst temptation to fall under, as a human being. Greed can most often be seen in political figures, or people with immense wealth, but one could also argue that Stephen Hawking was greedy for knowledge. The Avatar of Greed himself, however, falls very much into the main category; greedy for money and immense wealth. 

Mammon finds it hard to strive away from shiny things and Grimm, when in his mind, he could have it all. Of course, this has caused a major strain on his family and how they treat him. He’s very much the black sheep within the family, something you took very quick note of, and that’s why you decided to take him under your wing. At first, he was repulsed by that for many reasons. Things like, “I can handle myself (Y/N)!” or ,” I ain’t weak! I got this!” quickly became repeated phrases every time he was around you. Deep down, however, he came to actually like it. He liked that you cared enough about him to check up on him. Compassion and being cared for is something he hasn’t felt in at least a millennia, or so it seems, so moments with you quickly became his favorites. 

He began to fall for you shortly after too. At first, he reigned back, thinking that maybe he just liked the attention you gave him, but really, it was so much more than that. He loved the way your hands always grabbed onto him when you laughed, or the way your eyebrows lifted when he told a story that may or may not be complete and utter bullshit. He liked the way you laid your head on his shoulder and literally and figuratively kicked him in the ass on certain days, but as much as you seemed to like him and accept him, he can’t help but feel like he would be an issue to you in the long run. A burden. Just another responsibility you would have to handle. “H-hey… uhm…” and talking about how he felt just seemed so ridiculously hard, too. You’d look at him with these concerned puppy eyes and he immediately feels bad and quickly makes up a lie about how Satan tried to trip him down the stairs instead of talking about what’s actually going on. 

But he can’t hold it out much longer, not if he wants this relationship to become serious, but he was so scared. You always said you didn’t care about his Avatar, but he hated that you had that mindset because he IS his Avatar, and his Avatar is him. “(Y/N)...” he tried to start this conversation with you for the uptenth time already, but your eyes immediately had that wave of concern inside of them and he hated that so much, “what’s wrong? Did they say something again?” he didn’t deserve such genuine concern, not right now at least. “No just… just listen, will ya?” That only gave you more of a concerned look and now he’s confused as to what to do because if he keeps on you’ll worry your pretty little head off and he doesn’t want that, but if he doesn’t continue on then he’ll walk around with that thought in mind for a really long time before it ever gets brought up again. 

“Listen I…. I ain’t the saint ya make me out to be… I know I mess up, and sometimes I believe that what my brothers say is true a--!” “Stop. No it’s not.” You interrupted him, determined to get that thought out of his head because you were not about to let this amazing person have a depressive episode over nothing. “You’re an amazing older brother, and an amazing brother to Lucifer, no matter what he says. They can be harsh, yes, but I know they lo--!” “(Y/N)!” He didn’t mean to raise his voice and he heard too late that it had echoed off the walls and reached his ears again so he quickly took your hands in his to soothe both him and you, “that ain’t it. Just listen. What I’m tryin’ t’say is that I know I steal and I lie and I’m greedy… of course I am; it’s my Avatar. Ya always say ya don’t care about that, but I feel like ya have to care about that because it’s part of me! I ain’t the best financially… I’m only lucky to people who summon me.. Who get lucky enough that I’ll take their soul in exchange for immeasurable wealth…. But to myself …. I haven’t been lucky to myself in a long long time… and although I get money, I burn it just as quick. You know that, I know that too…. So I don’t know… I feel bad for being an unstable source in ya life because ya deserve better…. Ya deserve someone like Lucifer or Satan who got their life figured out…”

Of course, the truth hurts. It hurt him to admit that, financially, he is a failure and he would and could easily lose any and all finances either of you own, that’s why he wants you to think carefully about being with him and he certainly wouldn’t shame you for leaving him if it came down to it. If the roles were reversed and he was after someone who’s financially unstable, chances are he wouldn’t be running after them much longer, so he’s confused as to why you would keep running after and being there for him. 

“Mammon… I’m not going to leave you based on your inability to control finances. It’s actually laughable and kind of sad that you’d think so lowly of me. I love you for you and everything you come with, not some ridiculousness you decided to tell yourself. Yes, it’s your avatar, but it’s nothing that’s unmanageable. Satan can manage his anger, most days, and maybe you can try and learn how to control your spending and gambling on most days, too.” He kind of stopped breathing when you said you loved him so the rest barely registered in his mind, but that’s okay. He just feels overwhelming love right now and he’s genuinely thankful for you. “I ain’t crying…” you were about to ask what he meant but he already picked you up in an embrace, twirling you around with him once before setting you back down and just burying his face into your shoulder, sniffling a little. 

“I ain’t cryin’.... But I love you too… thank ya, you know, for being there and stuff… Thank ya for coming into my life and sticking around and accepting me…” You never understood why it was so hard for him to see that he was worthy and deserving of all of those things, but at the very least, it made you happy that you could bring some sort of happiness into his life. “You’re welcome, Mammon…. I’m not giving up on you.”

[twstdreams]

Summoning Catastrophe

Request: Hello! May I request a scenario where MC accidentally summons a demon on Halloween that claims she married him? And now Tsunotarou has to save her butt.

Warnings: Female!MC, male!demon, unwilling bride, non-consensual touching but not sexual in nature, scratching  

Length: 1.2K

As the hulking demon before you stares at your form, you realize that you’ll never be able to make fun of Ace and Deuce about their magic again. Provoking overblots and disastrous magic battles aside, you’ve never seen them blunder so bad. What was sending Ace flying into a chandelier compared to summoning a freaking demon?

Several months into school, you are no closer to getting home with either the research you’ve conducted yourself or Headmaster Crowley’s help. So, you wanted to learn some magic. What was the point of studying at a prestigious school only to have non-transferable knowledge and no skills to show? Worst case, if you were permanently stuck here, you’d need to be able to support yourself. You trust your friends, but the truth of the matter is most of you are unemployed teens without a stable job lined up or your own money.

This leads you to your current predicament of a demon who is both blazing hot yet has made the room drop one too many degrees. At this rate, you’re not sure if the goosebumps on your arm are from fear or a chill in the air. Basic summoning could theoretically not require a lot of magic, especially on a night like Halloween when the air buzzed with magic. So you decided to try your hand at it. If you can have prophetic dreams, why can’t you have wicked summoning powers too?

The demon’s eyes rove the surroundings, you think the ghosts are about to intervene on your behalf but a nasty glare sends them flying. Finally, his gaze rests on you again. You flinch when he lifts his arm towards, but then in a flash, he has your chin in his palm while pulling you to your feet.

“Hey!” You try to wriggle out of his grip but it just incites him to tighten his grasp and oh so lovingly scrape his claws against your cheeks, leaving stark red lines. His touch doesn’t hurt but it sends chills down your spine.

“You’ll do,” he finally states. The smirk that forms on his visage does everything but calm your nerves.

“No, I won’t!” You don’t know what you’re refuting but you want no part in whatever he’s deemed you worthy of.

“A feisty bride? That will make eternity more interesting,” he comments. The fact that your outright refusal doesn’t so much as make him flinch just incites your anger.

“The final answer is no. Listen, this summoning was a mistake so you should just go back where you came from or look for someone that actually wants to marry you.” You don’t know how the next years of your lives are going to go but it’s certainly not gonna be beside someone who thinks boundaries are lines to be crossed. A dry laugh leaves his throat but the smile on his face doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Poor little thing. Did you think just because you had the power to summon me that you can actually order me around?” You hold your tongue as you try to figure out how to send him back. For all the power he claims to have, the demon has a weakness without a doubt. What all-powerful demon needs humans to traverse worlds? Why is he so desperate to the extent of taking an unwilling mortal bride?

There’s the temptation to fall into panic and drown in your fears, but you’ve also developed some resistance to shocking events. You’re caught between some odd liminal space of fear and numbness. Life-threatening situation caused by miscommunication #10, here you come!

“You’re sure you want me? Out of everyone?” Nothing like throwing questions to buy time. You try to reach for your phone or knock over a candle when you realize your limbs are frozen. Your lips and eyes are the only things that listen to you anymore. The rest of your body seems to have given up control to the monster in front of you. The panic must show on your face because the demon chuckles subsequently.

“A careless human that walks right into a trap is easy to control,” he comments. The demon pulls you closer until the magic that radiates off his body starts to feel suffocating. His hand lowers to your neck, not nearly enough pressure to remotely affect your breathing, but you have the uncanny feeling he could snap your trachea in two without so much as breaking a sweat.

A familiar fleck of green catches your peripheral vision and you feel a rush of courage fill your heart. You’re more grateful than ever that Diasomnia decided to decorate Ramshackle for their venue.

“Maybe. But there are people who have my back,” you rebuttal. The demon begins to press on your neck for your little show of rebellion.

“Bluffing will get you nowhere. Though I think I’m going to have fun with you.” The hubris that laces his voice just makes you that much more excited to see it all fall apart. He’s not the only powerful one in the room.

“Are you done prattling?” Malleus asks, finally revealing his presence, but doesn’t wait for an answer as lines of fire wreck the summoning circle. The demon lets out a roar but turns into wisps of smoke that dissipate into nothingness.

You run towards Malleus and tackle him into a hug. Even though he’s just as tall as the demon, his presence brings you comfort. You feel the icky and oppressive atmosphere of the demon disappear as his arms catch you. You take a moment to nuzzle into his embrace and let the tension disappear.

“When I told you to prepare an interesting story next time, I certainly did not expect this.” You’re not sure if you have a lecture in your imminent future but you’re so grateful to the fae in front of you.

“You’re a lifesaver, Tsunotarou! I owe you a hundred ice cream dates,” you chime, not caring if your costume gets rumpled as you tighten your arms around him. How odd it is. Minutes ago, you were fearful for your life but Malleus’ presence is enough to wash it all away like a bad dream. And when he strokes your cheek, you feel a soft wave of magic heal your wounds, it looks like it was nothing more than a passing nightmare too.

“Be careful. You wouldn’t want to make more promises you can’t keep,” he warns while glancing over at the failed summoning ritual.

“I’d be happy to follow that one through.” You clasp his hands in yours and head for the door. “But for now, we have a Halloween party to attend, don’t we? One that you were finally invited to!~” He raises an eyebrow at your not so subtle teasing but lets you drag him along. You have no intentions of letting Halloween night end like this, especially when you could spend it making precious memories with Malleus

[roselightfairy]

For @carlandrea, who prompted Thranduil + Gimli. I don’t know exactly what I was intending with this, and I have no idea if it makes narrative or emotional sense, but... it’s all for the Atmosphere, baby. Just go with it.

...

Legolas was not often called away for duties when they visited Eryn Lasgalen – not since he had removed to Ithilien and taken the better part of his unit of archers with him. Though he remained yet a prince of Eryn Lasgalen in name, he was lord of Ithilien in deed and in duty, and was treated as such when he returned home.

By his father, at least. His sister had no such reservations, either in the enthusiasm of her greeting or her requests for him upon arrival. She had asked him to accompany her on a brief scouting mission, and – whether out of guilt for having robbed Lasgalen of its most skilled archers, or desire for her company, Gimli knew not – he had agreed. The journey was meant to take them only perhaps a day and a night, and in the meantime Gimli wandered the halls alone.

He had accustomed himself quickly to the caverns where the elves lived: he could find his way under stone well enough, no matter who else might inhabit it. Still, they felt strange to him – instead of the thrumming of warmth that dwarven homes always awoke in his chest – the long-awaited welcome of Erebor; the glorious thrill of Aglarond – these halls rang with an empty loneliness, an ache in his chest as of a missing piece, some long-held sadness. The closest he could come to comparing it was the dimmed ancient glory of Khazad-dûm, but even that was not quite right – there was a diminishing in these halls, an echo of emptiness not of a grandeur now lost, but of a hope never fulfilled. It echoed in his chest, in the sound of his footsteps, flickered in the shadows of ivy on the walls, illuminated by torchlight; it swept across his face in the breeze from the wide windows and skylights.

The halls of Eryn Lasgalen were quiet at night. Elves slept little, so Gimli would have expected bustling, but any reveling that occurred took place out under the stars, and he supposed even elves needed to rest at times. His footsteps were loud on the stone floors, the solid step of a dwarf accustomed to walking where he would, though it felt strangely illicit here, where so few dwarves had been welcome. Gimli was given the freedom to roam where he would in his husband’s home, where his father had been locked away merely for setting foot in the forest, and he felt almost guilty for it, as though he dishonored his father’s trials with every step.

His wandering footsteps took him around a corner, up a set of spiraling steps, and he found himself in a shaded alcove hung with ivy and berries he dared not touch, against a window cut into the stone that looked out over the forest. Gimli folded his arms on the sill and gazed out, noting the rustle of leaves in the darkness, of lights in the distance where elves must be dancing and drinking. He wondered where Legolas was, out there in the forest, beneath the shaded boughs – or among them.

“May I join you?”

The voice came from behind him, practically in his ear; Gimli whirled, nearly choking on his spiking heartbeat. Legolas’s father stood behind him, not as close as he had sounded but still far nearer than he ought to be, for how silently he had approached. He had forgone the crown of leaves tonight; his golden hair streamed loose down his back, and he wore a simple green tunic and a faintly amused smile.

“Of course you may,” said Gimli, his voice rasping as he recovered his breath. “I would not turn you away anywhere in your own halls.”

Thranduil tilted his head as if in acknowledgement of that point and came to join Gimli in gazing out the windows. He left a respectable few inches of space between them, but still Gimli rarely stood so near to Legolas’s father; his nerves hummed in acute awareness of their proximity.

It was silent for a time, and then Thranduil spoke again. “I am sorry to startle you.”

There was just enough upward lilt in his voice, something lighter beneath the dry deadpan, that Gimli risked a flicker of his eyes to the side, a slight incline of his head. “Forgive me, your majesty,” he said, “but I do not think you are.”

Thranduil laughed openly at that, and Gimli restrained a startle at the sound. “Perhaps not,” he allowed. “Sometimes, the temptation to ensure that one has not lost one’s touch is simply . . . irresistible.”

“Perhaps particularly when one is approaching one’s son-in-law?” Gimli suggested, equally dry, and was rewarded with another laugh.

Thranduil’s laughter was more restrained than Legolas’s or even Laerwen’s, as though he were waiting for another punchline, but still the rare mirth felt like a gift – like a sign of favor. “Perhaps,” he said, his smile fading as he turned again out the window. His long fingers came to rest on the sill as though it were an organ and he meant to launch into a piece of music. Like spider legs, Gimli would have once thought them – such was the phrase often used to describe Thranduil in Erebor – in exaggerated tales told after a few drinks only, for Dáin would not condone it. But still it was whispered: the lord of the spiders at the center of a web of greed and deceit.

It was an epithet Gimli would never use again – not after seeing the hatred in Legolas’s eyes when he spoke of the spiders and what all they had taken from his people and his family.

Silence fell between them, but it was not a silence Gimli could read like he could Legolas’s – he knew not whether to speak and break it, or to let it stretch. In absence of intuition, stretch it did, long and taut until something felt about to snap, and finally he could bear it no longer.

“Your halls are beautiful,” he offered, cringing even as the words left his lips. But he had begun, and so he must continue. “The design is like nothing I have seen before.”

“That means much, coming from a dwarf of Erebor,” said Thranduil. His lips pursed, then relaxed. “But even we of the woods make do, when we must.” He gazed out the window again, and Gimli too turned to look out over the woods, the patches of trees light with revelers. He wondered what Thranduil could hear.

Thranduil’s face remained as unreadable as ever, but something in his stance, in the tilt of his head, reminded Gimli abruptly of how Legolas stood when he looked at Ithilien, at the homes elves had built in trees, reveling in their newfound safety. “I know something of making do,” he said slowly. “But I do not think the creation of something beautiful is wholly a loss, even if it comes from sorrow.” He clamped his mouth shut before he could speak further, unsure whose painful memories he might rouse with these words – Thranduil’s, or his own.

Thranduil turned to look sharply at Gimli, his eyes keen as though measuring him. It was not the penetrating stare of the Lady Galadriel, but still Gimli felt somehow tested in his gaze, those cool grey eyes like steel raking over his body. When Thranduil looked away at last, he could not say if he had been found wanting.

“You are more right than even you know, maybe,” Thranduil said at last. “But I will hope for your sake and for Legolas’s that you need never resign yourself to it.” He sighed, and for just a moment his hands tightened their grip on the windowsill, his knuckles flashing white beneath his skin – and then, as though Gimli had imagined it, they were loose again, resting against the stone like on organ keys.

As Gimli floundered for a response, Thranduil straightened beside him, a wave passing through his spine to draw him up even taller than before. “Are you faring well in these halls?” he said. “No one has given you trouble?”

Gimli blinked, shaken by the abrupt change in mood. “Yes,” he said, “yes, everyone is perfectly cordial.” Not perfectly – not with the murmurs in dark corners in the Sindarin that Gimli could understand well enough; not when he sometimes felt a prickle on the back of his neck and heard laughter behind him, though he could not see who followed him. He felt safe enough here, particularly when Legolas was by his side, and that was enough.

“Good.” Thranduil nodded. “Do tell me if at any time our hospitality is less than might be hoped. I would not have my son-in-law treated poorly within my realm.”

“I” – How should he promise to do something he had no intention of doing? “You are kind,” was what he managed at last, a non-answer.

Thranduil’s eyes narrowed shrewdly, and Gimli knew he caught it, but what could he say to such an answer? “I am hardly kind,” was his response. “As you have no doubt been reminded. But I do not make commitments lightly.”

“Nor does your son,” Gimli said, before he could think better of it – thinking of the earnestness of every one of Legolas’s promises, how sincerely he held his word. His heart ached at even this brief separation, at this strange conversation with Legolas’s father while his husband was away, and yet he wondered if Legolas’s sincerity was some gift from his father, undiluted by the years of trial and suspicion that shielded Thranduil’s eyes.

“No,” Thranduil said – soft, a rush of air, almost a sigh. “No, he does not.”

The melancholy that rose between them was entirely different now: not an acknowledgement of past suffering but an unspoken shared knowledge of future regrets that neither of them could help – a shared love for one who had set himself firmly on the path to grief, heedless of what either could wish for him. Gimli had known moments like this before – more often with Thranduil’s daughter than with the king himself – of that sudden kinship, that shared silent sorrow. For a moment, it was all he could feel.

And then, as abruptly as it had begun, the moment was ended and Thranduil had let his hands fall from the sill, stepped back from Gimli’s side. “I will leave you to your thoughts, then,” he said. “Have a pleasant evening, Gimli.”

“And you,” Gimli managed after him, half-stunned in his wake, but Thranduil gave no indication he had heard him but a half-raised hand, as much a dismissal as a farewell, and then he was striding off down the hallway and disappearing into the dark.

He departed as soundlessly as he had arrived.

[stories-by-rie]

Chapter 4 - Heart of Silver

Four years before Evelyn gets herself cursed, she helps Ariel with their Mare-situation, and meets up with a ghost.

words: 1967 || masterlist

Ariel’s whole apartment is their study, was what Evelyn had thought the first time she had entered it. She made sure to touch absolutely nothing as she followed them inside their bedroom. It was subtle, but the signs were clear to her. The sheets that looked simply tossed aside in frustration, the light disorder of everyday items, and the assortment of cheap sleep aids on the nightstand. What truly set these aside from any other plausible explanation, though, was the slight smell of foul balm.

    “Is it on my bed? I feel like it is on my bed,” Ariel mumbled and looked with a frown around their room. 

    “That’s most likely. Many Mares don’t leave their host’s beds. They probably can still feel your dreams. You might want to change your sheets after this,” Evelyn answered. “Not because of the My Little Pony print, just because that beast is actually smelling really bad.”

    Ariel just laughed at that and stepped into the corner, out of Evelyn’s way.

    It had been nearly a full year since Evelyn had worked with ghosts and monsters, so the smell made her stomach turn at first. Ariel must have long gotten used to the odor. But as soon as she clasped her fingers around the vial in her pocket, her instincts kicked in. She pulled out the vial with the golden sleep sand, as well as the net. Carefully she placed the sand inside the net and then stepped back to watch the outcome. It did not even take two minutes – surely this had to beat some kind of record – until the Mare took the bait, its shape turning solid before their eyes as it lunged at the sand and Evelyn pulled the net together around it.

    It was as if Ariel was woken out of some kind of stupor.

    “Are you kidding me? Was that all?” they exclaimed and stared at the Mare, now visible to them once more. The rotten blue skin did nothing to comfort either of them, even if it was caught securely.

    “Yup. The sleep sand smells like happy children's dreams, so Mares can’t resist the temptation. Though this one ran so fast, it did not seem that happy with yours, to be honest.”

    “I told you I have weird dreams,” Ariel mumbled and crouched down to the Mare that was just the size of a golden retriever. Then they looked up and grinned. As if their experience with the monster was forgotten, just because it was dealt with. Evelyn grew a bit self conscious at the smile, and only managed to return it shallowly.

    “Thank you. For your help. You’re really good at this. We should hunt monsters more often. It was really fun, even if the time with you was just this short.”

    And that just sounded like Ariel had enjoyed spending time with her. Like they wanted to be friends and meet frequently for coffee, talk about problems and successes, trust each other with secrets – like friends do. Warmth and sadness spread through her. Sadness, because ever since she had seen Ariel in that club a few weeks ago, she had thought that Ariel was pretty cool, and that it would be fun to be their friend. Yet that thought was ultimately drowned out by the knowledge that Evelyn’s understanding of friendship was simply not reciprocated. She committed too much. Trusted too much. Eventually got hurt too much. Even if she dared to try, it had been too long and any knowledge about the how had been lost in time. All she was, was a constant stranger. Alienated to an extent where a simple friendship was an enigma to her, social norms were lost on her – really – she understood that Mare better than humans if she allowed her mind to put it that pathetically.

    So, naturally, Evelyn did what she did best. She smiled, hummed, and then avoided them whenever she could. Just for a little bit of distance, she told herself in the beginning. Maybe another few weeks would be long enough without it being weird if she asked Ariel for a coffee. Or for hunting some ghosts. If Ariel would have been serious in their comment, they surely would approach her first anyway.

    Really, that one exception with the Mare hadn’t changed anything. It was just that now that she had seen those monsters again, it was really easy to spot them. Like some border in her brain had been crossed, and now she was in a territory where they just were much more visible. And since professional companies were quite expensive for the people who had chosen not to get such specific insurance, it was just a necessity for Evelyn to help out every now and then. Perhaps, it was also that she felt a little more alive when she lured monsters in her traps and sent ghosts off.

    As the matter would not leave her mind, she felt the need to talk about it with the liminal ghost that haunted the university’s library on Friday nights. It was not easy to meet her. Like most ghosts, showing her ghostly body to living humans was highly restricted, which in her case meant that she was only visible between one and four am, only to liminal people. Unluckily, Evelyn was one of those liminal people, such who were ghosts in heart.

    “You look a little lost today,” Leonie said, tracing the lines in the wooden table with her ghostly fingers.

    “You say that every time we meet,” Evelyn sighed, but couldn’t deny that it was true. From the look that the ghost was giving her, there was no reason to lie. “Lately, I have been working a lot as a ghost-hunter again,” she confessed. Speaking it out loud felt freeing. “Monsters and creatures and ghosts and,” she trailed off a bit, getting lost in her barely-there reflection of the library’s big panorama windows.

    “And?” Leonie pushed gently.

    “And all the like, you know?” Evelyn resumed, her voice a bit thinner now. She barely even knew what she had started that sentence for.

    “Do you have fun?” Leonie looked at her intently, with her slight smile. The few lights at the library’s entry flickered.

    Evelyn sighed and rested her head on her hand. “I suppose? I mean, I am really good at it. It was easy to forget how normal that kind of life has been. It feels a bit like I am falling back into it. Just that it is a soft fall. As if someone was holding me.”

    Leonie smiled and the lights flickered. “Is there someone holding you?”

    As if she was all-knowing. Of course, Evelyn’s thoughts instantly jumped to Ariel, even if she hadn’t met them since the Mare situation.

    “No,” she mumbled and looked down onto the table. “It’s more the work itself that catches me.”

    “I imagine it must be a little comforting to fall back into well-known hands.”

    “Hm.”

    “It must be easy to let go. If you know that you will be caught.”

    Evelyn’s gaze flicked up to her for a second. Was it easy? It seemed impossible to say, even if it really should be.

    After a few moments of calm silence, Leonie asked, “You don’t agree?” To which Evelyn really couldn’t answer anything, and hence settled on a tiny shrug. The time ticked by, both of them fine with the silence of the late night. It wasn’t the first time that Evelyn sat next to her, perfectly content with just not being alone. But this time, the ghost kept glancing over at her, waiting for her to speak about what she had come for. 

    “Leonie,” she finally gave in, slowly allowing herself to voice the thought that had been on her mind for a while now, “it does feel nice. And it is not really the work that fills me with this deafening feeling, really.”

    “Then what is it?” Leonie asked and finally the words flowed out of Evelyn as if she had practised them.

    “It’s just that it feels nice to be of use again. While studying, there really has been nothing at all for me to do. Except to learn for my own benefit. The work is different. I see the change and the happy faces when I am successful. I think it was a good decision to return to that. But it does not chase the feeling itself. And that person – Ariel – they gave me that. And I like them. I think I would enjoy being their friend. Maybe try to be at least. But honestly, I don’t understand what they want from me. I think it’s just work as well? I helped them with a job. I was useful. And I am not certain if I can do that. Become friends just out of usefulness, you know?”

    Evelyn tapped her finger quickly on the table, trying to somehow get the pressure out of her that boiled and boiled and threatened to burn her from the inside. Unnamed feelings that wanted to be spilled. Bopping her leg up and down helped dissipate them a bit.

    “How about you just talk about it with them?” Leonie suggested. Evelyn just scoffed.

    “That would be so weird, and you know it. You don’t go to people and say ‘Hey, please give me your definition of friendship and also don’t use me for my skills because that might break my heart’.” She stared right at the ghost – through the ghost as a lamp flickered to life for a pathetic second – and then sighed. “It would be very easy, though. If I ever had the courage to talk to them like that.”

    “What if you just stick around and find out? Nothing close yet. Just one or two meetings to test the waters?”

    Leonie’s idea was reasonable. The logical thing to do. But still, Evelyn winced and looked away to the window front where the small town's lights were merely tiny dots.

    “You are lonely,” Leonie stated as a matter of fact, not a question, and of course she was right. Evelyn thought a lot about it, and still didn’t know how to feel about it. There was a warmth to that loneliness. 

    “I chose to be alone. It was my decision,” she mumbled.

    “But that is voluntary. Loneliness is not. Not always, at least. There’s a difference between those things, Evelyn. The nice kind is called solitude. You have passed that.”

    Evelyn bit the inside of her cheek. Leonie always did that, saying things she didn’t want to hear. Even if she knew that she was often right, at least deep down. But so what? Maybe she had become lonely. That wasn’t that different from enjoying solitude.

    “You know that it’s the chemicals. You have been alone too long. I’m pretty sure talking to dead people doesn’t count as socializing. See? I can make out how you are trying to hold back the tears. You know that I am right,” Leonie added and when Evelyn looked back to her flimsy eyes, the movement alone was enough to let the tears drop. “It’s okay to be lonely. I can only guess how hard it must be if the solitude that has been your home starts to feel like loneliness.”

    Evelyn buried her face in her arms on the table, hiding away the tears and quiet sobs that she could not bear to show openly.

    “Maybe,” Leonie whispered into the morning, one of her ghostly hands on Evelyn’s head, “it would be worth it to try it out, no? To fight back a bit, just in spite.” And with those words she was gone, the sky outside starting to turn more blue than black; enough to shy the ghosts away. 

Not much later, Evelyn left too.

_____

previous chapter || WIP intro || masterlist || next chapter

[sunshineseung]

Sinner Part 2 // Felix

💌 Info: Stray Kids Felix x female!reader smut 💕 Includes: dom!reader x sub!felix, themes of religion, teasing, exhibitionism/fear of being caught, first time, loss of innocence, establishment of safeword, degradation and praise, oral/fingering (receiving), unprotected sex, riding, cum play, slight aftercare ✏️ Word Count: ~4.2k

Please read part one of this series first :) Thank you!

The rain was pouring in the pitch black outside, but the lights inside the church hall were bright as day. The only occupant of the church on this night was Lee Felix deep in prayer, oblivious to the storm outside. With hands folded and head bowed, he whispered his prayer through his lips, a slight echo of his words spreading through the otherwise empty room. 

Felix jolts up at the sound of the main entrance being opened and slammed shut quickly after. A feminine sigh can be heard, and Felix lets out a shy “hello” to the intruder of his private repentance time. 

“Oh, you’re here?” You say while entering the main hall, throwing your wet jacket over one of the pews. “I thought this place would have been empty.”

“What are you doing here?” Felix retorts immediately, slightly offended that of all people to walk in at this moment, it had to be you. 

“I should be asking you the same thing, little boy.” You shuffle the hair on his head, earning an annoyed grunt from him. “The bitch ass pastor’s making me clean the archives in the basement since I... caused some trouble earlier this week.”

“Caused some trouble? Is that all you have to say for yourself?” Felix was beyond offended at this point. If it wasn’t your name-calling of the pastor, it was your dismissal of your actions. “You and your group of friends painted sinful phrases on the side of the church!”

“It was all in good fun, damn. Chill out.” While, yes, spray painting God Loves Lesbians on the wall of the church was questionable, it was fun! And best of all, the pastor said he wouldn’t call authorities if you cleaned the basement. “It was worth it anyway. Did you see the look on his face? Priceless!” 

The boy was boiling with rage, but he held his anger back in fear of cursing or saying the Lord’s name in vain. Despite hating you, part of him wanted to save you. While not being the healthiest mindset, Felix felt like he could save anyone from sin, and he was going to try to save what he called the rodent of the congregation. 

“Now, if you don’t mind me asking, why are you here?” Your tone of voice edged on sarcasm, you having full knowledge of his nightly prayer. He had calmed down, remembering that he was in a place of the Lord. His face returned from red back to it’s normal hue, and he looked to you with gentle eyes.

“I was praying. I did some questionable things this week too.” His admission to sin took you aback. You didn’t expect everyone’s favorite boy to openly confide in you that he committed an act against his God, something you never thought he would do.

“What kind of questionable things?” Your interest was piqued, and his sudden bluntness was just what you wanted to see. What resides in the mind of Felix?

“I shouldn’t be telling you this.” He looks into his lap, a sudden wave of shyness clouding him. You sit next to him on the pew, patting his back to comfort him. Despite him being so critical of your actions, you did have a soft spot for the sweet boy. “I... pleasured myself.”

You almost burst out into laughter, but you had to suppress that for now, because the most holy person you knew just said he masturbated, and he felt bad about it. As someone who was not shy to doing that specific act among other ungodly things, to see someone repent for doing something totally natural in your eyes was otherworldly. 

“It’s okay, Felix. Sex is natural.” You attempted to comfort him, but you could tell by the deepness in his eyes that he still regretted what he did. Also, when you so casually said the word sex, he winced a bit since he hated the word so much. “You have nothing to be ashamed for. Everyone masturbates.” 

“You don’t understand!” The raise in his voice boomed through the desolate church hall, and you darted your look towards him in shock. “It wasn’t just that.” His voice got soft again, almost a whisper. You lean in to hear him. “I watched the most sinful videos. I thought about myself doing those horrid things. I feel filthy.”

“Lix, I understand completely. Do you think I haven’t done those exact name things?” You raise your eyebrow at him, and he timidly shakes his head. “You’re a young adult. This is normal. Don’t let it eat you up, okay?” 

“Okay.” His deep voice sent shivers down your spine, and it just hit you that you were basically giving him the birds and the bees talk. A comforting smile graces your face as you get up from your seat next to Felix. 

“I should go start cleaning the basement. Mind helping me?” You hold your hand out to him, offering some more time to spend with you. He reluctantly takes your hand, and you help him stand from the pew. You two silently make your way into the damp basement of your church. 

Dust, cobwebs, and the sent of mold cover the dreary basement as you and Felix step down. The conversation in the basement is much more lighthearted, but you can’t shake the image of Felix masturbating out of your head. You’ve never thought of the star child like that before, but his confession made you see him in a new light. He wasn’t above you. He was a teenager driven by sex and hormones like everyone else. 

Once the basement was tidy, books arranged on shelves and dust swept away, you exchanged phone numbers with the boy and headed on your merry way, but that was far from the last time you would hear from Felix.

Over the next two weeks, Felix would text you casually. It started as a nice, wholesome friendship: discussing classes, complaining about personal things, and sharing homework. No matter what the conversation topic was, your mind would wander to the more dark and depraved side of your persona. You wanted to pick his brain on a multitude of topics, but most of all: sex. Since confessing his scandal to you, you wanted to know if he did it again, what he’s into, or even if he’s thought about you.

One night, in a heightened state of mind, you text him a simple question: Have you jerked off since that night? Sure, you regretted it when you sobered up, but you got the answer you wanted... sort of.

I’ve wanted to, but I also want to get into heaven unlike some people. Wow, pointed. However, I have watched more... pornographic films??? Sometimes the girl puts the mans... in her mouth, and it’s scary. Why would someone want to do that?

After explaining to the poor boy what a blowjob is and why it’s amazing, he takes two days to respond to your text, something he’s never done before. It was radio silence, and you didn’t bother to try to garner a response, because you knew Felix was busy

After waiting what seemed like an eternity for a response, you got what you were praying for, and you were worried this would happen.

I’m sorry if this comes off as aggressive, but will you show me a blowjob? Like, perform a blowjob on me? I take back what I said about getting into heaven. I can always beg for forgiveness, but right now, I’m really frustrated. 

You’ve created a monster. 

When Felix escapes the attic after you give him what you believe to be his first sexual encounter with another person, you quietly reenter the congregation as if you didn’t just cause the prettiest church boy to bust a load on himself minutes before. 

“Darling, there you are!” Your mother holds her arms out to you after what you presumed to be a particularly moving speech from the pastor. “We’re having dinner with the Lee family tonight, and I’d expect you to be on your best behavior. Would you like to join us?” 

“I’d be happy to go, mom.” Fuck fuck fuck. This was supposed to be a one time thing, and as much as the idea of teasing Felix in front of his family excited you, you’d hate to get caught by your own family, although the devil in you was very willing to take that risk for the slightest bit of sexual satisfaction. 

“Great! We’ll head over at 5 o’clock. Please dress up, dear. Your current shirt looks wrinkled. What were y-” 

“I’ll dress up, don’t worry!” You cut her off, and her face scrunches, but you’d rather not have to deal with the wrath of your mother. Your father returns to your mother after having a short conversation with Felix’s father.

“Mr. Lee said Felix could be a good influence on you, Y/n.” The temptation to roll your eyes was strong considering the preceding events. “Pay attention to how he talks to his parents. You could learn something, sweetheart.”

As much as you wanted to cause a scene in the church from your father’s condescending tone, you were more focused on getting home and changing your soaked, ruined panties. Your family says their casual goodbyes to the other churchgoers, and you make your way back to the family car, hoping your father speeds home. 

“Honey, it’s time to go!” Your mother puts in her second earring as she yells up to your room from the bottom of the stairs. Your door wings open to reveal you in a short red skirt, low-cut white shirt, white dress shoes, and bright red lipstick. “You’re wearing that?”

“It’s fine, ma! Nothing they haven’t seen before!” You whisk past your mother and slide into the backseat of the family car, ready to have dinner with the boy of your nightmares. 

When you enter the Lee family household, you can tell Felix’s parents are judging you, but you didn’t dress like that for them. When Felix turns the corner and faces you, his eye practically bulge out of his head. His gaze is glued to your thighs, hips, bust, and lips, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Judging by the sudden tightening in his pants, he clearly enjoys the view.

“Hello! Welcome to our house,” Felix’s mother escorts you inside to the living room. “Make yourself at home until dinner is ready.” She disappears into the kitchen while Felix’s father sits down on the couch and invites you and your family to sit with him. Felix shyly sits next to his father, although there was hardly any room for him to sit there. 

Your father and Felix’s father start talking about sports, while your mother goes on her phone. You make eye contact with Felix from across the couch, and his whole body tenses and he breaks into a nervous sweat. Aw, she’s so pretty, what do I do, what do I do, frick, frick, fuck.

Without saying a word, Felix gets up and runs out of the living room. Everyone darts their attention towards him, but no one tries to stop him. 

“Dinner’s re- where did Felix go?” His mother enters the living room, but her announcement is halted by the absence of her son. Everyone looks at each other, no one having answers for Felix's tantrum. "Would someone go get him please?"

"I got him." Your devious smirk should set the crowd off, but you make your way up the stairs to where you see Felix's bedroom door. His door had his name on it, so it was pretty clear what room was his.

"Go away." The second he hears your knock, he throws a pillow at his door, as if that would stop you from barging in. You see him sat on his bed, arms crossed, another pillow over his crotch, and his lip in a pout. "Why did you come here wearing that?"

He was definitely on the defense, and you've never seen Felix this angry since the night in the church. "I just thought this outfit was cute." Playing innocent might not have been the best idea at this moment, but you just had to calm him down and get him out to dinner.

"Yeah, it's a nice outfit, but I can see your butt whenever you turn around, and your cleavage is out, and I'm just very confused." He was frustrated at himself more than you. You sit next to him and put your hand on his shoulder, a familiar scene.

"Come down for dinner, and afterwards, I'll show you what I have under this outfit, okay babe?" Felix was so painfully tensed, every nerve of his was on edge. Your words were filthy, but he loved it so much.

He can't stop thinking about you. He wants to do everything to your body: eat you out, fuck your tits, spank your ass. He wants to do every sinful thing he's seen in those videos. Just imagining seeing you in your underwear makes him want to bust in his pants. You're driving him insane, and if Felix from a few weeks ago had seen what he has become, he would be disgusted.

You two make your way downstairs, Felix staring at your ass the entire time, and take your seats at the table. The dinner table was a circle, so you were seated right between Felix and your mother. Not the sexiest setting, but that wouldn't stop you.

The food was delicious, but halfway through, you placed your hand on Felix's thigh, and although you had him pecking the back of your throat earlier that day, he was still extremely sensitive to every touch. When your hand slid up his leg, he let out the quietest moan, and although the table was full of chatter between your parents, you were able to hear the precious sounds leaving Lee Felix as you swiped your hand across his twitching bulge.

Felix grabs your wrist and throws your arm back to you. He gives you a death stare, but his eyes are dark, and he looks so fucking needy. You meet his gaze and adjust your top, pulling it even lower than it already was. His eyes are glued to your tits, but you point down to your crotch, where you're fingering your self under the table. Felix bites his lip, but goes back to eating his food.

You take your wet finger and wipe it against his pant leg. Jesus fucking Christ, you were breaking this boy. His bulge was painfully large, and again, he felt like he could bust in his pants.

"I'm wet for you, baby boy. When dinner's over, do you want to taste me?" You whisper in his ear, and he closes his eyes tightly, trying not to fully fall for your tricks. His pathetic nod is all you need to go back to finishing your dinner, and he does the same, but his mind is fogged with the image of your naked body bouncing on his cock. So pathetic. So, so pathetic.

Dinner ends, Felix's mom takes the plates, and you and Felix disappear back into his room while the adults have their alone time to drink and chat. When he locks the door, you pin him to the wall and lick your lips. You stare him up and down, watching him as he panics. Everything he wanted to do to you escapes him, and he's putty in your hands.

Speechless, Felix rests his hands flush against the wall and tilts his head backwards, giving you full access to his neck. You take the opportunity to make dark hickeys along his neck, which will definitely be visible to his parents later. Your tongue against his skin makes him shudder, and mindless whimpers escape his lips.

"If you ever want to stop, the safe word is red, or snap twice. I'll only go as far as you want to, Lix." He nods, repeats what you said, and you go back to work on his neck.

"C-can I taste you?" His words are feint, but you're more than happy to take his request. You slip your skirt down to the floor and take off your tight shirt, giving Felix a full show of your lingerie you wore just for him.

"You've become such a whore for me, Lix." You traced his body with your hands, sliding your fingertips over his abs and chest. "Do you even know what to do with my pussy, huh? You're so innocent, I doubt you'd be able to make me cum."

His heart was racing, and he wanted nothing more than to prove you wrong. While, yes, he had no idea what he was doing, he wanted to taste your sweet release coat his tongue.

"Teach me." He was being bold. You'd never thought you'd see Felix this confident in this setting, especially since he was admitting to being inexperienced. You took his hands in yours and lead him to the bed. He watched you as you sat on the edge of the bed and spread your legs, giving him full access to your dripping cunt.

"Get on your knees, baby boy." He did as instructed, but this was the first time he was on his knees next to his bed to do anything other than pray. His hands ghosted over your thighs, scared to touch you without your permission.

"May I take off your panties?" You nod and lift your hips, allowing him to slide them down your legs. A string of wetness connected you with your panties, and Felix's mouth was watering. Your panties were discarded across the room, and you unhooked your bra and tossed it with the rest of your clothes. "Woah, you're so gorgeous."

You pet his blushing, freckled cheek, and coax him closer to your heat. His lips are hardly centimeters away from you, and you gently tangle your hand in his hair. "Lick my pussy, naughty boy. I know you want to."

Felix bites his lip before diving into your pussy, his tongue exploring every fold. Even though he doesn't know where the clitoris is, he knows that when he licks the top of your pussy, your thighs shake around him, so he circles his tongue through your cunt, and you give him the sweetest praise.

"Such a good boy for me, yeah?" You smile down at him, and the eye contact is intoxicating. You tighten around nothing when his tongue perfectly flicks over your clit. "Finger me, please, baby.”

He inserts his index finger into your core, and it feels like heaven to both of you. Felix imagines it's his cock inside you, and the thought of you tightening around him urges him to take his tight pants off without removing his mouth from your pussy.

"Bend your finger, my slutty little boy. Make your mistress cum on your pretty face." Your high was approaching, and you wanted Felix to work for it. He fucked his finger into you, adding his middle finger in the process. The more he looked at your heat, the more nervous he got, but from the wetness covering his fingers and lips, you didn't notice how nervous he was.

His fingers perfectly pushed into your g-spot, and your orgasm got miles closer. Your moans got louder, and no matter how close your parents were to hearing, you didn't quiet down. Felix loved your moans, and his cock twitches in his underwear.

"You're so hot, Y/n, please cum for me." His voice was hoarse and desperate, but you weren't that easy.

"Suck my clit. Make me cum all over your face, cutie." He aimlessly sucked at your folds, but when he found your clit, he never left that spot. Your violent moans of pleasure made him groan onto your clit, sending you over the edge. Your essence covered his fingers, and he lapped up every bit of your release. "Good boy."

You were out of breath, but Felix just started. He stood up and sat in your lap. You placed your hands on his hips, squeezing him and making him jolt. His erection was painfully pressed against his tight boxers, and you hooked your finger around the waistband and pulled them down his thighs. Although it had only been a few hours, his length never failed to impress you.

"Please fuck me, Y/n. I want to feel you on me." He was so desperate for any sort of touch. You lazily wrapped your hand around his cock and started stroking, but he grabbed your wrist, stopping you. "Ride me."

"Very demanding for a little slut, don't you think?" You throw him off your lap, his back harshly slamming onto the bed. Your legs surround his hips as you line your entrance with his cock, and he squeezes his eyes shut. His hands held onto your thighs as if it were life or death, and for him, it was.

Right before you lowered yourself onto him, he felt every negative thought enter his mind. What if I'm not good enough? What if I cum too soon? What if she hates me? What would my parents say if they caught us? God, please forgive me.

You see him grit his teeth, and you stop. You gently pet his cheek again, bringing him back to earth, and more importantly, bringing his attention back on your dripping core hanging over his cock.

Without warning, Felix grabs your hips and pushes you down onto him. He loses all control, and you love it. You stay still once he bottoms out, his face contorting into questionable expressions from the pleasure overwhelming him. He calms down, and you start to ride him, his cock sliding against your walls and filling you up perfectly.

You throw your head back and quicken your pace, chasing your second orgasm. Felix feels himself on the edge, but he holds back, fearful of what will happen if he cums inside you.

"Fuck, Felix, you feel so good." Your moans are so load, and the creaking of the bed is deafening. Felix's deep grunts and growls sound amazing, and his grip on your hips is tight enough to bruise. "So good, baby boy, so good."

His finger lingers to the familiar spot that is your clitoris, although Felix doesn't know that fully. He circles his finger around your sensitive bud, and his other hand grips your tit. His hands feel so good, and with one more press into your g-spot, you coat his cock in your cum. He thrusts into you when you tighten around him, and his orgasm is threatening to release, but he refuses to be the father of a child with someone who he is not married to.

You ride out your high on his cock, and when you return back to earth, you remove yourself and harshly wrap your hand around his cock. Your pumps are violent, and his body is aching for an orgasm. You bend over and lick the tip, his cum coating your tongue and face. He opens his eyes, cum squirted onto your face, and he's sure you'll be mad at him, but you lick your lips, collect his cum from your face, and swallow every last drop.

Without a word, you topple over next to him, and you rest your head on his chest. He hesitantly wraps his arm around you, and you muzzle into him.

"You're so good for me, Felix." You whisper into him, but he hear every word. He smiles, unable to speak after the intense orgasm he just experienced. "We need to go back downstairs, you know?"

After a few moments of silence, Felix speaks up. "Y/n, this is... wrong." He sits up, your head falling onto the bed and his arms holding him up. "We shouldn't have done this."

"Did you enjoy it?"

"Yes, b-"

"Then nothing is wrong." You pat his back, admiring the defined muscles. You sit up with him and look at the clothes scattered across the room. "Sex isn't bad, Lix."

"This just goes against what I've been taught my entire life." He pauses, deep in thought. "Sex is good." He repeats under his breath.

You stand up and stretch, your ass catching Felix's eye. He sighs and accepts his actions, clearing his floor of the discarded clothing and getting dressed again.

"Felix, can I borrow a hoodie?" You hold up a hoodie from the local Christian radio station, and Felix shrugs. "Thanks, babe."

"Y/n, do you like me?" You stop in your tracks after Felix's question, and you honestly don't know how to answer. Did you like Lee Felix?

"I'm not sure, but maybe we could go on a date sometime." Your tone was casual, but your mind was racing. Before this, you thought you didn't have feelings for the cute little church boy, but now that you've been confronted with it, you didn't know how to feel.

"... Sure."

[honourablejester]

Well that got my back up right off, oof.

I was browsing through the TV Tropes character page for Ravenloft, because it gives a nice intro to older lore, and I came across this entry on Addar, Darklord of the Phantasmal Forest:

“Mentioned in the writeups for the Shadow Unicorns, Addar was promoted to Darklord status in the Kargatane's Book of Sacrifices netbook. Hailing from a sylvan forest on an unknown Prime world, Addar chafed against the traditions of unicorns submitting to elven maidens as bonded steeds, seeing such an act not as a bond of partnership and purity, but a symbol of humiliation and servitude. Though the other benevolent fey spirits of his forest recoiled from such bitter, poisonous prejudice, darker spirits rejoiced in it. Most prominently, a female nightmare, who began to contact Addar in his dreams, seducing him with stories of a new forest, far away, where he would become a great champion and worshiped like a god, much like the guardians of his own forest. Even as Addar's ego grew on this noxious fuel, the elder fey strove to break him of his arrogance; they arranged for an elven princess of unparalleled purity and grace, a mighty paladin-in-training, to be given his name and told she was to invoke the pact with him. When she came to summon him, however, Addar fought with all his might, recoiling against what he still saw as an attempt to enslave him and reduce him to a mere beast of burden. His defiance allowed the nightmare to slip between the worlds and attack the elf-maid, setting the forest alight with her burning mane and hooves. Free of the spell, Addar began to flee, only to realize the elf-maid was caught by the flames; choked by the smoke, she couldn't hope to escape on her own... but Addar's pride would not allow him to let her ride to safety on his back. Instead, he turned and abandoned the screaming princess to her death, following the nightmare into the mists. Upon her, he fathered the first Shadow Unicorns, and became ruler of the Phantasmal Forest; a foul and dismal place of dead, dying trees whose black, noxious soul nourished only weeds and evil plants, inhabited only by dark fey and predatory beasts.”

So, okay. I just gonna … I’m gonna side with the Darklord here? Yeah.

Not on the whole ‘seduced by a dark spirit with promises of being worshipped like a god’ thing, that’s fair enough as a villain origin. Carry right on. But the bit where he saw being bound to someone as servitude, and the response of the people around him to that …

Right. So. To sum up. Addar saw being bound to an elf as being bound into servitude, and the fey around him saw this as possibly racism and definitely pride, and their ‘benevolent’ solution … was to send someone to punitively and magically bind him into said servitude against his will, specifically for the purposes of ‘breaking him of his arrogance’?

Um. Explain to me how that’s not slavery?

It doesn’t matter how pure and beautiful a paladin she was. It doesn’t matter that the bond is normally not slavery because (I’m assuming) the other unicorns consented. In this case it absolutely, one-hundred-percent was slavery, because Addar did not consent to it and they tried to magically force him anyway, and I feel like every ‘benevolent’ fey involved in the decision should have slipped immediately over into Lawful Evil, for valuing their tradition over the will and consent of one of their own.

Like, this is phrased in such a hostile way to his interpretation of what was happening to him? I just … I love how this frames him as entirely unreasonable here. That his wanting not to be bonded to anyone is ‘bitter, poisonous prejudice’, that his recoiling while being bound against his will is only struggling against what he saw as an attempt to enslave him, as if he’s wrong about that and it was blindly willful of him to fight. That this binding is explicitly meant to correct him of his arrogance, that he’s being bound to someone to humble and punish him, and somehow this is not slavery? That it’s his defiance that allows a dark spirit to slip into the world, but if you didn’t force him against his will, maybe he wouldn’t have to fight and let nightmares into the world? It’s his ‘pride’ that causes him to abandon the woman who attempted to enslave him to her death, not an entirely reasonable unwillingness to help someone who just tried to force him?

Sorry. I had a surprisingly strong reaction to this, is all.

But. This is just the TV Tropes summary of the story, so I went to look up the original, in case TV Tropes was leaving stuff out or putting a slant on the story in the process of repeating it. And … sort of. The original does gentle a few things:

Addar was not aware of the nightmare’s nature at first

The fey spirits were not aware of the nightmare at all, since she was only approaching the unicorn in his dreams

The spirits could feel a corruption in his soul as a result of the nightmare’s temptations, and without knowledge of her presence, his hatred of ‘servitude’ was the only thing they could tie that corruption to. This doesn’t make their ‘solution’ any better, but it explains a bit why they were so adamant, if the nightmare was having a tangible magical effect for the worse on him

The spirits didn’t think of it as ‘breaking him of his arrogance’, they thought of it as teaching him ‘a lesson about the virtue of sharing and partnership’

The elf they chose had no knowledge whatsoever of any of this, she was just told that Addar was a unicorn who wished to bind with her and was given permission to perform the ritual

She spammed the ritual repeatedly despite his resistance because she didn’t know what was happening and thought he might be trapped somewhere

He realised she was in danger, and turned away from her truly because he didn’t want to bear any elf, and he thought another unicorn for whom that wouldn’t be a problem would reach her in time

Things the original story doesn’t help, though:

It still seems to imply that a unicorn must bind with someone pure, whether they want to or not, and everyone is apparently fine with that

“Such bitter thoughts, coming from an average person, would normally be seen as mere prejudices, and might even go unnoticed by most others. But it was no less than an appointed guardian of Goodness and Nature who was spitting those poisoned words, and that was seen with concern by some inhabitants of the forest, and with joy by others. These last were, of course, creatures of darkness and foul spirits, who were barely tolerated by others as part of the natural balance.” Virtue and goodness mean surrendering your right to autonomy, but for other people wanting to not bind yourself to someone is okay?

“She was training to be a noble warrior-priestess, and the ancient spirits dictated that Addar should be her steed. So, she was told Addar's name and given permission to tame him. The spirits thought he would finally accept the noble partner and once again become true to his nature, leaving the perverted ideas behind forever.” She’s beautiful and virtuous, so she deserves to ride him, and he should leave all ‘perverted ideas’ of bodily autonomy behind him

The ritual is still explicitly a forceful spell, an enchantment that does not require the consent of the unicorn, and can wear away their strength to resist: “Addar, who was finally losing his powers to resist the enchantment, suddenly felt free once again, when the nightmare took his place.”

“As he turned around one last time to see the princess choking to death, he knew in his corrupted heart that he was never going to allow anyone to ride him, under no circumstances. He would be king of his own forest.” This is meant to be the heart of why he’s a Darklord, the epitome of his corruption, and yes it’s extremely selfish to refuse to carry someone out of a literal fire that was burning her to death, and yes to the whole ‘prideful desire to be king and ruler no matter the cost’ thing, but on the other hand is it really meant to be evil to not want people to feel free to use your body against your will just because of your species?

I just … this whole thing sort of rubbed me completely the wrong way. It’s an odd thing to get riled up over, I know. But the whole … Ignore bodily autonomy, ignore consent, take someone’s species as license to bind them into service, declare them evil for not wanting to allow that, if they object too many times just magically force them anyway …

Look. The base fact is, the binding of the ritual is slavery and is not a ‘partnership’ and ‘a prize and honor for both beings’ in this case, for the sole and simple reason that Addar did not consent and everyone else ignored that and tried to force it on him anyway. Partnership requires consent on both ends, and forcing someone into servitude against their will is sort of the definition of slavery.

I just … I’m gonna side with the Darklord here. Not on the whole ‘allow myself to be corrupted and move to my own world where I’ll be king’ part, but on the whole ‘refuse to allow someone to use my body against my will and rebel when they attempt to magically force the issue’? Absolutely yes. The spirits were completely in the wrong there. The elf maiden not so much, because she didn’t know and acted in innocence towards someone she thought had consented, and it’s definitely tragic that she died for that, but I’m mostly going to put the blame for that on the spirits as well. Addar maybe should have helped her when he saw her dying, but they’d given him literally every reason not to by tricking her into, essentially, trying to enslave him and override his will. If someone tries to magically enslave me no matter how hard or long I fight, and winds up in mortal peril because of it, I’m not going to be too pushed about helping them out of that mortal peril either. Gonna be honest.

I reacted really strongly to this. Oof. Sorry.

It’s just … is it just me, or does D&D sometimes have some problems with consent, particularly when it comes to issues of magic, as well as some really dodgy views of ‘virtue’ and ‘evil’, particularly when it comes to magical species and what’s expected of them?

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

Weak ~ S.R. (part 1)

A/n: I’ve been catching up on the show so my thoughts have been all over the place- all of them about Reid lol. This is only one of three multipart song fics I have planned for him, but I promise I’ll finish your guys’ requests before full diving into them. I just needed to blow off some steam for him really fast. This is an old idea I’m bringing back because I liked the concept. It makes me laugh.

Warning

Word Count: 7700+

MASTERLIST

"No thank you" is what I should've said, I should be in bed. But temptations of trouble on my tongue, troubles yet to come. One sip, bad for me; one hit, bad for me; one kiss, bad for me... but I give in so easily.

Everyone has that thing they look back on and cringe at. That childhood memory that keeps you awake at night. That one thing you did in high school that ruined your reputation until you moved on to college. Things that come back every once in a while and make you cringe and wonder what on God's good Earth possessed you to do THAT. Even if you didn't have anxiety, it happened to everyone.

Or, at least Y/n convinced herself that was the case.

It had just been one of those things. One of those things that haunted her every time she got down time or saw someone who looked like... like... him. When anything reminded her of him and she remembered that god awful act of idiocy she had committed. Because it had just been her immaturity. Her young age and lack of experience. It had been a lapse in judgment. It had been a moment of stupidity and she would never, NEVER do anything like it ever again because she was older and wiser now. She was a different person now.

What had she done you ask?

Y/n had always been interested in the psychology of twisted people. She watched the news and wondered how one went about solving crimes like that. Especially really terrible ones like serial killers. How did you make a career out of getting into the minds of truly demented people and not be darkened by it? Or was that why the head of the Behavioral Analysis Unit, Aaron Hotchner, never smiled?

It all started with that fascination. She had been nineteen years old and a barista at a coffee shop, dreaming of being a real life super hero who saved lives and made the world a little more safe with every bad person put behind bars or under the ground. It didn't matter which to her at the time- they were bad people. They killed and raped and tortured and destroyed- why would they deserve anything but death anyway?

One day a boy came in. Maybe two or three years older than her, max. He was cute and tired and quiet. He came, he waited in line, he got his coffee, he left. He was completely oblivious to Y/n as she tried to talk to him. Flirt with him. Like a normal person talking to another normal person. But god she was really anxious and awkward and he seemed to look right through her and it made her voice die every time she tried. She couldn't even call his name when she was finished making his coffee. Her infatuation was obvious to everyone else. Another employee had written her number on the cup to help her out but he'd either never seen it or had ignored it because he had never used it. Even when he stopped coming, she still remembered him. She remembered his face and his name and his coffee order. She started to get it herself, holding onto the one part of him she had. It was a little weird, but she had nothing else other than that damn coffee order and she was taken by him. What else was she going to do? It was innocent.

Then she'd seen his face on the news. Spencer Reid of the FBI, part of the BAU. The boy she had been thinking about for months was suddenly part of the team she'd dreamed of being apart of for years? Her two obsessions aligned in one perfect moment and something... clicked. She was watching the news for a whole different reason now.

She didn't know when it had escalated past that. When she had taken that next step that would be something so unforgivable she would hate herself for years afterward.

Every morning on her way to work, she passed by The Place. Where he was, with his team, catching bad guys and making the world safer just like she wanted to. She wondered what he was like. How he had gotten on the team so young. She wondered how someone so quiet and seemingly oblivious could make it in a job like that. She wondered what his relationships were like. Were they friends or just coworkers? Did he still like his coffee the same way? What did his voice sound like? His laugh?

Suddenly she was across the street on her day off, looking at the building that held all the things she wanted most, imaging walking in and out of those doors. Imagining so long that she watched the team walk right out. They seemed familiar with each other, but each person held a rather grim expression. Her mind wiped of any other thought when she saw him. He was wearing a long sleeve button up, sleeves rolled above his elbows. A vest and a tie accompanied it. His hair was gelled back, glasses in his hands. He seemed to be lost in thought, his lips pressed together tightly.

When the thought to follow him crossed her mind, she went home. It was a dark thought that lead to dangerous places. She didn't recognize where this path was taking her, she just knew that whatever was happening to her, following someone home and learning where they lived without them knowing about it was crossing a line she couldn't be okay with.

Apparently, the same understanding didn't carry to taking pictures.

She had two whole shoe boxes of Polaroid pictures before she did anything else. She never looked at them after she shoved them in the boxes and pushed them under her bed; she just smiled at the boxes and remembered the times she'd watched him walk in and out of those doors and had taken one picture each time to commemorate the moment.

A year. She watched him for a year, following behind him on local cases, other work events, or even family and friends stuff. She did cross that line, but never once did she follow him home. Later in life when she burned those pictures, she tried to hold onto that. She never followed him home. She did however, send him a gift. She thought maybe if she could reach out to him somehow and start a sort of exchange, then maybe she could transition into actually being apart of his life. And that's all she really wanted. She wanted to shake his hand and have them make eye contact. He wanted him to see her.

There was a note, with just a simple "hello" on a single piece of paper, attached to a small bag of sour skittles. They were his favorite candy- but she only knew that because every time he came into work with some, he smiled a little wider. She knew it because she'd seen his friends give him them as a gift for Christmas. They made him happy.

When he saw the candy, he looked confused. When he read the note, he looked terrified.

Y/n didn't try to contact him again.

Something about the look on his face shook her to her core. Hadn't it been innocent enough? He couldn't know she had been getting to know him from her far away place. It was just candy and a note. It should have just been a shy person reaching out a call for friendship.

Then it hit her.

She knew which car was his. She knew his favorite candy. Those were things you didn't just know randomly. If she had been a casual admirer or had just had a crush on him, perhaps sending a flower to him at work would have been more low key. But she had wanted to give him something personal and she had. But she shouldn't have been able to.

The only reason she could was because she had stalked him.

She was a stalker.

It was never a word that had even crossed her mind until that exact moment, but once it came it wouldn't leave. That's what she was after all. She watched the news that day. Spencer wasn't there, but there was a story about a stalker in another state. She'd skimmed her usual spots on the internet to catch up on busted cases all over the country, like she usually did. A stalker who had killed five women in the expanse of a year. A year.

She had been stalking Spencer for just over a year. She had given him the gift on the anniversary of the day she had first seen him on the news. When things had clicked for her and she'd had that weird feeling like they were fated to be together. She had seen his fear and she had read that article and then all she could think about were her hands covered in blood. His blood. She imagined a future where she was in prison for life because she had crossed too many lines and had ended up on the wrong side of the future she'd always dreamed of. She wasn't protecting people and making the world better. She was making it worse, just by existing. Just like all of those people she had so easily dismissed and loathed, she deserved to die.

But that hadn't happened yet. She could still save herself from that future, because she had never followed him home. She let work distract her and her pictures and little tidbits of knowledge would be enough for her. Because her imagination, for whatever reason, could fuel her better than reality and she knew it because in the back of her mind somewhere, she'd known from thew beginning what his reaction would be if she ever exposed herself to him for real. She had knows what he would do when he saw that candy before she'd seen him do it, because she had been studying the minds of criminals for years now and she knew the mindset of the victims just as well. She might not be stupid, but she might be crazy.

Y/n full stopped it. She burned a photo every time she thought about him. She'd been wondering how to wean herself off of not ever seeing Spencer Reid again, from seeing him nearly every other day. This was her compromise. Every time she missed him, she pulled out those shoe boxes and she pulled out a picture and she looked at it a few minutes as the fire warmed before she threw it in and put the shoe boxes back under her bead. The only reason she didn't burn the photos all in one go was because she was afraid that if she didn't have something else, she might snap and go back to the real person. And she couldn't do that. What she had done was wrong and she was never, EVER going down that path again. She wouldn't be a villain.

It was a hard turn of events. It was like... withdraw. When she finished off the first shoe box, she cried. She felt insane and unstable and dangerously depressed. So, she got into therapy. The first session she told the therapist everything, stressing that she hadn't technically done anything too wrong and that she wanted to never do it again and that she needed help not getting there again. She was beyond relieved when the therapist - Michael Lyran - took pity on her and agreed to help her rather than turn her into the police. He said that she was seeking help and had realized what she'd done was wrong, so there was hope for her. He wouldn't give up on her.

Within a few months, she was a lot better. Y/n and Michael met up on the year anniversary of when she'd stopped stalking him. The second year anniversary of when she'd started in the first place. They burned the second box of photos together. She hadn't touched it since finishing off the first box. Until now. At the very least, Michael never looked at any of the pictures and neither did Y/n. He knew who they would contain, and he didn't feel comfortable peering into someone's personal lives at possibly very personal or vulnerable moments. He didn't want to tempt Y/n to do so either.

At the end of it all, what mattered was that it was over. Y/n was a lot more confident and understood her emotions a lot better. She said goodbye to Michael and she moved states, far enough that when she got a job as the police force secretary, she was sure she'd be able to follow her childhood dream without ever having to cross paths with the man who's life she'd almost ruined. She hadn't gained the confidence yet to actually join the force - she still felt unworthy after her escapade - but she was also making some sort of difference. Her skills of focus and determination and precision came in handy when she needed to keep names, dates, and appointments all in order in a limited space. She became a valued member of society, and she was proud of who she was.

Then something terrible happened. There was a string of murders that was very clearly panning out to some kind of serial killer. Y/n didn't think anything of it past that. In situation like this when crime boosted, she had to be on her game and keep testimonies and such in order so that if anyone needed a file, it would be easy to navigate and immediately on hand for use. She mostly dealt with people panicking, which kept her busy with the serial killer. Something that had never really been a concern now had her so busy, she had no room for any other thoughts. She had to keep herself calm and level headed and in control so she could reassure people in the most convincing way possible. Once again, she was succeeding in her work field.

It could have been anyone. Any other team could have come in. The FBI did not just have one team, surely. Someone else could have ended up there other than...

Y/n almost choked when she saw the doors open. Because there was none other than Spencer Reid, years after she'd finally gotten over him and fully moved on with her life. Right when she'd come to terms with her mistakes and had made a better name for herself. Right when she was getting good at her job and beginning to inch toward that childhood yearning, Spencer fucking Reid was in her town. In her police department.

And he was headed right for her.

And no thank you is how it should've gone- I should stay strong. But I'm weak, and what's wrong with that? Boy, oh boy I love it when I fall for that. I'm weak, and what's wrong with that? Boy, oh boy I love ya when I fall for that. I'm weak.

It was Aaron Hotchner who actually spoke to her, asking to see the police chief. Y/n had directed the team in the right direction, refusing to look at the man who she was dying to look at most.

His hair had grown longer. He wasn't wearing glasses anymore. It wasn't gelled back anymore either, and he had ditched the vests. When had he made so many changes? She didn't know, but god was she relieved. If he had come in that precinct looking the exact same as five years ago, or even close to it, she would have been sucked right back into the fantasy. Not that he wasn't cute now. But he wasn't the same person, and she could distance herself from him. And from that part of her that yearned to take him in. This wasn't her Spencer. God, he had NEVER been her anything. Anything but her almost-victim in her almost-villainhood.

Five years ago, she repeated several times in her mind. It had been five whole years since she'd first seen him and become obsessed. Three years of being completely Reid free. Of being a strictly good person who did normal, sane, healthy things. She wasn't going to chuck all her hard work now. She was a different person. A BETTER person.

Then he spoke and ruined the whole thing.

"Hey I was wondering if you could point me in the direction of the bathrooms." He was looking at her and she felt her throat close. Suddenly she was that nineteen year barista again. She didn't know how to move or talk or even look at him. She cowered under his gaze and he seemed to be taken aback by that.

All she could think about was that she'd heard his voice. After five whole years, she finally knew what his voice sounded like.

She ran away from him without answering his question. She ran outside and tried to remember how to breathe. Her brain was racing and her thoughts were muddy and her hands were shaking. Her head was suddenly crammed with a really ugly image of a person she'd worked very hard not to be. A person she could have become. Someone she avoided thinking about or remembering. She'd made it almost twenty full months not thinking about Spencer even once. About her past mistakes. A blessed twenty months of finally not hating herself, and he had waltzed in with that smile and spoke with a voice even more beautiful than she'd imagined and now she was losing her mind.

A thought hit her.

She wasn't panicking because she wanted to be closer to Spencer. She wasn't panicking because she felt those old cravings coming back. She wasn't panicking because her mind was trying to fill in all the gaps of knowledge she had now that it had been so many years. Not because that hunger from years ago was back, or even because she could feel exactly how far apart their bodies were. Not because she wanted to talk to him, or because she wanted to be near him, or because he had seen her finally after so long of wishing he would. He had looked at her and seen her and TALKED to her, which would have sent her over the moon five years ago.

No, Y/n's panic came from the thought that all of her past mistakes would follow her forever, ruining her life every time, no matter where she went or how much she'd recovered or how hard she had worked. Becoming obsessed with Agent Reid had cost her job. It was her fault- she was distracted and irritable and steadily becoming unbearable to have around as she felt worse and worse about what she was doing. She'd become unstable. Without her therapist, she might have ended up on the streets even after she gave up chasing after a man who deserved better than some creepy ass fly on the wall. If that happened again... she liked it here. She liked her job. She wanted to be a cop and help people. Be someone who could, in some way, make a difference in this really terrible world getting worse by the second because as time passed, everyone was getting even meaner, and that created even more sick and twisted and depraved villains. She wanted to be in that story, and if that one year of idiocy ruined it for her forever... what would she do then?

One conclusion came from this realization: No one could ever know about that year. No one other than her past therapist, who was no threat to her future and wanted her to be free of her mistakes as much as she did.

What came next was a plan.

First: She would not become friends with Spencer Reid or any of his associates. She would limit her contact with them, remaining distant and civil only. If even one of them got close and she slipped in any way, it would be game over and then things might really go south. She had given Spencer a gift that day, and that might be seen as some sort of threat or something. Anything. It could be bad and she couldn't take chances.

Second: She would not let herself take in any new information about Spencer Reid or any of his associates. She could easily get swallowed up in her work, and if there really was a serial killer running around out there, they'd need her to be on her game and make their job as easy as possible. She would refrain from talking to any of them about anything other than work. She didn't need anything that could set off her old habits again and send her back down that path.

Third: She would not think of him as Spencer Reid, someone she used to dream about, but as Agent Reid. She was going to put space between her and him as much as possible. He was high above her in almost every way- in importance; in intellect; in physical height. If she focused on that and treated as him as a teacher or parent or the president of the united states rather than some cute guy her age who was super smart and kind of interesting, or even a coworker who was at all within her reach, it would be much easier not to get involved.

She could do this.

Already feeling better, she smoothed her shirt, shook her head, took a deep breath and went back inside.

She could do this.

-

"How do you guys like your coffee?"

Already Y/n was struggling keeping her rules, but on hard cases she always brought the team working coffee to help boost them in the morning- a treat from her to thank them for what they did. Even if they'd already gotten themselves coffee, they were always eager to take the one she gave them as well so it had become a sort of tradition. A case without coffee brought in by Y/n like mana from Heaven in the hands of angel just didn't go as well. She felt it rude to potentially leave the BAU team without coffee though, so... here she was, asking some personal information like she'd told herself she wouldn't do.

This could slip though. It was just coffee, and it would only be a few times, and it was the least she could do after all they were doing to make her town safe. After all she'd done. This was a thank you gift, not for personal gain.

She'd asked Agent Morgan, so now she stood before him as he tilted his head curiously. "Why?"

"I..." She fiddled nervously with her fingers behind her back. "It's a surprise." He rose an eyebrow. "I'm going to use it to break into your mind and learn all your secrets." It had been meant to be a little snarky. Why else would she want his coffee order? But instead he laughed and she felt herself smile along. It was contagious.

The fact that he could find the strength enough to smile even after all he'd been through was admirable. But Y/n wasn't going to think about that.

Agent Morgan seemed to be just the person to ask. He told her all his teammate's orders as she listed off their names so they didn't forget anyone. There were quite a few of them, and Y/n would hate herself if she missed one. She thanked him and went to turn away. "Wait what about Reid?"

Y/n could have strangled herself right then and there. Why had she assumed she'd still know the order in the first place? It had been half a decade. It could have changed. Not to mention it looked suspicious as hell if she had walked in here already knowing it without having to ask anyone. Thank god she had never done anything bad- she was terrible at keeping secrets. "Of course!" She turned back, rolling her eyes at herself. "I'm such a dork." She handed the small piece of paper she'd been writing the orders on to him.

Which, again, was a mistake. She had written all of the other orders herself without hesitation. But she also knew that if she wrote down his order, she'd have it memorized AGAIN, and she couldn't let herself get even that close to him. He needed to stay as much a mystery to her as possible. One she didn't care about and didn't want to solve and would not even a little bit understand. Morgan seemed confused but then wrote it down. Y/n took it with a smile and then left, folding it in half and refusing to look at it.

In the local coffee shop, she rung the bell on the counter. The lady who ran the place - Mrs. Miyre - grinned upon seeing her. "Y/n!" The girl waved. "I've been expecting you with all these murders going around? They say it's a serial killer."

"I can't say too much, but it's a big case." Mrs. Miyre nodded.

"Who are you ordering for this morning?" Y/n told her the names of the cops on shift for the beginning of the day. More might come in later, but Agent Hotchner had made it clear he didn't want too many crowding the place, so only a part of the force was actually in the office. The others were watching the streets and searching for any more clues, or had the day off. When she began to list off the BAU members, Mrs. Miyre rose her eyebrows. "New recruits?"

"The FBI actually," Y/n sighed. The older woman looked surprise and she nodded. "Like I said- big case." She sighed. "I figured I'd throw them in too."

"You're such a sweetheart." Y/n blushed. "We'll have them in a few, darling. Wait here." Y/n nodded and took a seat at the bar. The door was propped open to let the cool morning air drift through the place and keep it from getting stuffy. This place had been amazingly refreshing after the congested city life Y/n was used to growing up in DC. It was easier to breathe up here. Lots of open space and a nearby wood to go camping at the drop of a hate anytime you wanted. Y/n gets lost in that for a moment. The feeling of the cool air and the moving air sliding against her skin and the soft sunlight and the clean air. She snaps out of it when Mrs. Miyre comes back with the coffee. She's got a few drink holders and it makes Y/n laugh. Together they take it all back to the car and Y/n drives back very carefully so none of it spills. Once there, she grabs one of the officers to help get all the drinks inside. Mrs. Miyre named all of the cups as usual and as Officer Leo - the one who helped her - and Y/n hand out the drinks, somehow she ends up with a certain Agent's coffee.

In her good mood, still relaxed from the nice drive and the nice morning and the nice coffee waiting for her when she was done, Reid approaches with her a small smile. "Having a good morning?"

Y/n tried to reel herself in. "I guess I shouldn't be, considering the murders and stuff."

He shrugs. "We're working hard. If we let it get to us, it'll mess us up one day." He speaks as if from experience and it makes Y/n frown. "Thank you. For the coffee," he adds when Y/n shoots him a confused look. She holds it out to him and he grabs it and their hands touch and a spark of electricity runs up her arm. The cup almost drops on the floor with how fast she rips her hand away.

Reid's smile dropping away is the last thing she sees before she gathers the cup holders and books it outside to throw them away.

But I'm weak, and what's wrong with that? Boy, oh boy I love ya when I fall for that. No thank you?

"Hey Y/n?"

She looked up from her work and tried not to groan when she saw S... Agent Reid in front of her. He'd been popping up quite a bit, and with them coming close to catching the killer, Y/n found herself eager for the end of this thing for all the wrong reasons. Of course she wanted the women of this town safe and the killer in jail, but she wanted the BAU unit to go home just as much. She was antsy for it. They hadn't yet though so she smiled at him politely and asked, "Yes, Agent?"

"It's Doctor, actually," he corrected softly. She almost laughed, her smile becoming more genuine. That seemed to encourage him. "I just wanted to... apologize."

"For what?"

"Making you uncomfortable." Y/n tried to hide her panic. "Don't stress about it." Ah, so she had failed to hide it. And had probably failed to hide her emotions every time she'd even thought about trying. "I'm a profiler, so I have a certain level of perception that... that's not my point." He shook his head, seeming a little flustered. Her eyebrows came together in confusion. "Every time I'm around you, you seem to get really anxious and-" He shrugged. "It happens a lot, but usually with babies and dogs and stuff. We call it the Spencer effect." He rolled his eyes, but Y/n could tell that at this point he was just rambling. "I wanted to apologize for whatever it was."

Y/n smiled softly. What a sweet man. "It's not your fault." Her voice was soft, with guilt rather than embarrassment. He'd probably felt bad about this for a while. Maybe since the first day of this whole thing if his perception skills were as great as reputation pronounced. And it was all her fault. Even years later she was still hurting him. "Please don't worry abut it."

He relaxed and she felt relief flood her. "Okay." His hands slipped into his pockets and they both grew silent. Suddenly they were just standing there, looking at each other. She remembered years ago when she'd drunk in every detail she could get. Close up, he was even more handsome and her stomach was filled with butterflies. Which... was a new feeling. She'd seen him work hard for days, stressing and pushing himself. His whole team did, but it was Spencer's care and effort that meant the most to her- probably for obvious reasons. He was as great as she'd imagined him to be, and there was something fulfilling about that. She hadn't wasted her time on someone who was secretly terrible. The person she'd looked up to wasn't an asshole in reality like some famous people, or even people of the past that buried all their mistakes and smiled in public, or even like some people in power now.

Despite all he'd gone through, he put himself entirely into each case. He never hesitated to. Never thought about how much it was going to hurt him in the end, because if he could save just one person this time then he would have won. A small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

And then she realized she was staring and she ripped her eyes away, looking at her hands instead. "I bet you're busy this morning."

"Yeah," he responded, but his voice sounded sort of strained and dry, like there was no moisture in his mouth. She turned and left and, to her surprise, she felt his eyes on her as she did so. What was going on?

-

Things like that kept happening. Agent Reid kept trying to approach her and talk to her. He waved to her as she passed, or smiled at her. Called her name to get her attention. She was so busy avoiding him and doing her work that she wasn't paying attention to much else.

One day they got a message that changed everything.

As she opened the office doors to prepare for everyone coming in soon, she couldn't help but notice the weird red stain on the carpet inside the place. Confused, she opened the doors and went inside. She dropped her coffee when she realized what it was.

THIS IS YOUR FAULT

In big, bright red colors that could only be spray paint inked into the carpet. She'd panicked, thinking the message was somehow for her before the obvious incorrectness of that settled in. What spooked her again was the fact that there had been no break in alerts, otherwise this place would be flooded with people, and everyone would be celebrating having caught the criminal of the day. But it was empty and dark and that sicko was still out there. He had somehow gotten in here, sprayed that, and gotten out again without anyone noticing him. Without setting off any alarms or even leaving the front door unlocked. Or... perhaps they had been and she hadn't noticed?

Y/n had opened this place up hundreds of time. It had taken them some time to trust her with the keys, but once they did, she came in early every morning and get things up and running and turned on so they'd be ready and everyone else could get a little more sleep, since she went home long before all of them did. It left her alone for nearly an hour usually - half an hour in this time of stress - but that seemed to be long enough.

A hand wrapped around her mouth and something cold and circular pressed to the back of her head. "Scream and I shoot you."

Her eyes went wide. "What-?"

"Speak and I shoot you," the person added, just as calmly. "Do you see that message over there?" She hesitated before nodding. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's not for you. It's for your little lapdogs that run this place. The ones that take you for advantage and ignore you while you bust your ass to be seen as good as them." Y/n's eyebrows came together. She was confused. "You're going to come with me. They'll see how much they need you once you're gone." And then Y/n felt the coldness pull away, just for something to hit her rather hard and everything to go instantly dark

-

Getting pistol whipped absolutely sucked, she decided as she blinked her eyes and tried to figure out where she was and what had happened.

It wasn't clear when she'd realized that's why her head hurt so badly, but perhaps it was a realization she'd made before she was completely unconscious, or one she'd made while the world had been lost to her. Whatever it had been, it was her first thought when she woke up again.

She was tied to a chair, that was her second thought. The room she was in didn't yield much else with how dark it was, but she could feel herself strapped to something, and she could also feel herself sitting, so you know. Easy conclusion.

"Aw, she's awake!" Y/n flinched at the sudden sound, but the recognized it as the voice of the person who'd taken her. The unsub, if basic logic could be trusted. "Hello, Sleeping Beauty."

"Hi," she mumbled, shaking her head softly in an attempt to clear it.

A laugh. "Oh I like you. You don't cower and scream like the others."

Y/n sighed. "I'm not afraid of you." She found she wasn't either. She'd dipped he toe in quite a few sick minds. She'd even tiptoed along the edges of being one herself. She'd seen what these people were capable of. She'd seen the pictures of those girls even. She knew what THIS sicko was capable of. But she also knew that they hadn't been tortured or raped, which left this person far from as bad as it got. She knew that the victims were treated quite nicely, with lots of remorse. All up until they died, where there were deep cuts all over the body. The thought had been that the stabbing replaced the rape, which Y/n was kind of okay with actually. Her capture would be less than pleasant and her death would be quick. If she was lucky then she'd be saved with as little trauma as possible.

Or maybe it was just shock.

"Oh you're not, are you?" The person stepped closer and it was that moment that Y/n realized a huge mistake of the profile they'd been going off until this moment.

The profile stated that it was a man, but the person standing in front of Y/n now was definitely a woman.

"Are you going to kill me?"

"Yes," the woman responded calmly.

"Are you going to torture or rape me before that?"

The woman hesitated. "I won't do anything you don't want me to."

Interesting. "What's your name?"

"Maya," she responded. Y/n nodded and continued asking her questions. She learned that Maya was a lesbian and hated men. Y/n couldn't help but think it was rather fair of her to do so, especially when Maya went on to explain just how terrible to her they had been. As many men were to lesbians. She talked about how badly they treated women and how she was tired of watching it. That caught Y/n's attention.

"Why kill women then?"

"To take them away from here." Maya glared at the opposite wall as she leaned against the one behind her. She'd obviously grown comfortable in the exchange. "If I kill men, all that happens is one will replace them. They will grow to hate women more when they realize who I am. I knew they were close, that's why I took you. You were always my goal." Y/n's eyes widen and Maya smiles wider. "You're so kind, and that leaves so much room for them to hurt you. You know, the way I cut up your body- it's only after you're dead, and it's only so they can't do anything to you when they get you back. Did you know that there are men out there that prefer their women dead? Who work in morgues just so they can have sex with them?" Y/n cringed, thinking about her cold, pale body rotting while some man-

"Oh god," she whispered.

"Precisely," Maya agreed.

Y/n shook her head. "You can't be mad at an entire group for what some of them do. Don't get me wrong, men generally suck. But it isn't just men- it's people in general. We as a species are selfish and close minded. In ever group, there's always those extremists who make a bad name for everyone else. I mean- think if cops started to judge lesbians based on what you do. Not all women who like women kill women to punish men. Which honestly is ridiculous if you ask me but-"

Maya grabbed Y/n's face so hard that Y/n's jaw began to hurt. "You defend those assholes? Really?"

Y/n glared. "Years ago I made mistakes. I hurt someone I cared about. You can't villainise men and then ignore the fact that EVERYONE does shit too. I mean, women rape and murder and stalk and abuse. Definitely not as much, but still." She scoffed. "I'm not even saying this to support men. Men DO suck. They're too pretty for their own good and often far too oblivious for everyone else's. But everyone has flaws. What do you gain by killing people? Like you said, more will take their place. What are you going to do, kill all nice women?"

"Yes," Maya growled. That moment, fear consumed Y/n as Maya leaned closer and all Y/n could see in the other woman's eyes was hate. "Fuck up evolution. Because what's happening if the tough people are getting wiped out because men won't pay attention to them. All these pushover women are having babies and raising their sons to be like their fathers and their daughters to be like them."

Y/n's expression hardened. "What about kids who don't end up like their parents?"

Maya slapped her. "We're done playing nice." Y/n looked back just in time to see Maya grab a knife and she felt her heart clench. As much fear as she definitely showed on her face, she refused to whimper or scream. "I promise," Maya cooed. "No one will hurt you ever again. I promise you." She stroked Y/n's face and the girl tied to the chair flinched away. The knife danced along Y/n's throat as Maya began to move behind her where she would have a better grip.

The door busted open just as Maya gripped Y/n's face. "Drop the knife!" Maya tilted Y/n's face back and all the bound girl could see was the face of her assailant and the roof above both of them. "DROP THE KNIFE!"

Y/n closed her eyes and Maya grinned.

Guns went off. Y/n screamed. When Maya's hand left her face, Y/n's head dropped and she kept her eyes close, flinching as the ringing in her ears stopped. Not from the gunshots, but from the sound of Maya's body hitting the floor. She knew that the only way she was getting out of here was if Maya was dead, but it had sounded so different than she'd imagined. She opened her eyes slowly to catch something at the edge of her vision. She looked over and locked eyes with Maya, who was dead but still smiling. Y/n finally screamed.

Hands on her shoulders. She tried to move away from them and looked over to see Spencer. "Hey," he cooed softly. His hands moved up to cup her face. His eyes were wide and warm and his smile was soft and comforting. "Hey Y/n." His thumb brushed her cheek and she felt herself melt into the soft touch. Maya was wrong. Maybe men did suck, but Spencer Reid was different. He would never do anything wrong to Y/n. Even if she did deserve it. Those thoughts were pushed away as Spencer moved his head to keep her looking at him as she almost looked back to Maya. "Hey, I'm right here. I'm here, okay?" She finally nodded and he seemed to relax. "I'm going to untie you now alright?" She nodded again and he moved his hands to do as he'd said he would. When she was free, he moved to her ankles. As he did so she leaned forward, resting her forehead on his shoulder. He froze a second and then moved more carefully as not to disturb her. When her ankles were free he paused. "I'm going to move now. Do you need help standing?" She shook her head and slowly stood to her feet. He stood quickly to help her. He was tall enough for her to step into him, covering her face and hiding in his shoulder. He paused before slowly looping his arms around her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice soft and broken. "I just- I just really-" She caught her breath and seized up as she almost began crying. She wanted to apologize. She wanted him to hate her. She wanted to be alone... but she also didn't. She was terrified of all of the things she'd just been so sure a second ago she wanted. What she deserved. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Spencer soothed. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

She pulled away, shaking slightly. "Yes I do." She ducked around him and started walking out. They were in some kind of small cabin in the woods, but she just looked away from it and began walking.

"Wait, Y/n!" She looked over to see Emily Prentiss. Y/n began to walk faster. She really needed to be away from-

"Y/n stop." Hands on her shoulders and there was Derek Morgan, suddenly in front of her. "I know you probably want to be alone, but you have no idea where you are and you're in shock. Let one of us give you a ride back okay? You can talk about it or not talk, that's fine. But we can't let you wander out here alone hoping you find your way back, especially because we're miles away from town."

Relenting, Y/n nodded. "I just- don't put me with Spencer." She cringed as she used his name. "A- Agent Reid." She closed her eyes. Agent Derek went to say something. Maybe to ask her one of the probably many questions she had. She reached up though and covered his mouth. He leaned away, surprise, and she dropped her hand. "I- I'm sorry, I just-" Her eyes watered and she growled in rage, turning  to pick up a rock and chuck it as hard as she could.

She had almost died.

She was still obsessed with Spencer, even though he deserved someone so much better. Even now, the feeling of his shoulder and the smell of him was filing into her head and she wanted to smile and scream and cry and curl in a ball and never move and she didn't know if it was from him or what Maya had said... or from what Maya almost done.

She crouched down, her chest beginning to constrict. "Y/n," Morgan said softly. She recognized his tone. The same one Reid had used before. Pity and concern. Trying to keep her calm. "I understand you're upset right now. I would be too. What you went through was really scary."

"I'm not a child," Y/n snapped.

"I know," Morgan assured. "But I need you to breathe for me okay? It'll help if you stand up and put your hands over your head... but if you want to sty like this, or even lie down that's okay too." Y/n hesitated before pushing to her feet, forcing her hands above her head. Morgan moved to his feet again as well, keeping to her level so she could always see him. After a second she felt something in her chest loosen and instead of panicking, she was crying. Morgan paused before opening his arms. She leaned into them and he hugged her as she cried. When she calmed and leaned away, he offered her a smile. "You want to get back now?" She nodded. "Come with me. Reid's in the other car." She nodded and followed him. He put his arm around her and she relaxed, rubbing her stuffy nose as he began to run. He slipped into the back with her, Hotchner was in the driver's seat. Neither man spoke until they got to the station. "Is there anyone you want us to call?"

"I don't..." She shrugged. "Have anyone."

Morgan's face grew sad. "Is there anything we can do for you? Take you home?"

Y/n thought about being alone in her empty apartment and shook her head. He nodded, understanding. "Can we just... sit here for a while?" He nodded again and they did. One by one the car filled with the others. Hotchner in the driver's seat, Rossi in the passenger. Prentiss took the seat next to Y/n, and Jureau stood at the door next to Prentiss, leaning rather than sitting. Y/n chuckled as Spencer joined the group, wiping her watery eyes. "Sorry to drag all of you guys into this car. Jesus."

A few chuckles. "It's okay," Jureau sighed.

"You know, you made this case a lot easier," Prentiss told Y/n quietly, reaching a hand to rub her back. "Getting us coffee and being so kind and encouraging. Sometimes when it gets too... when things get really dark, it's hard to concentrate because you're so stressed and worried and you feel so terrible that it clouds your head." Nods in agreement and Y/n smiled despite herself.

"You know." Jureau reached inside her jacket before extending a card. Y/n took it and looked at it. It had a number on it. "If you ever want to talk, that's my number. I'd like it if we stayed in touch."

Y/n smiled wider, even though her heart sunk a little. She finally had a friend...

"Thanks, Agent Jureau."

The woman laughed. "My friends call me JJ. You can too if you want." Y/n nodded.

Well. There went her plan to not to get close to Spencer Reid or any of his associates.

Shit.

[nobodyfamousposts]

BURN THE WITCH! Part 6

Well...you all did ask...

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Marinette chanted as she ran.

Not that anyone was chasing her or there was even any reason to run with Fu completely knocked out. Honestly, she may have just been running from her own guilt more than anything by this point.

She didn’t stop running until she was at least a good several blocks away. Her legs were burning and she was gasping for breath when she finally felt she had made it far enough to rest. With her mind running a mile a minute, she somehow managed to find an alleyway between two mostly empty storefronts to use as a hiding space to try and regroup. 

“I’m so sorry…” She had attacked Master Fu. She had hit her mentor over the head. SHE HIT AN ELDERLY MAN WITH A FRYING PAN! 

“You should be sorry!” Tikki admonished her from her hiding place in Marinette’s bag. “Now there won’t be anyone to sell us popcorn!”

“NotnowTikki!”

Okay. Okay. Recap.

She had the Dragon Miraculous—even if she’d had to knock out Master Fu to get it, which was a horrible thing to do even if it did at least prevent him from stopping her or trying anything to help the akuma because the other Miraculous users were mostly if not all likely under the akuma’s influence by now and fighting them to try and save Lila was NOT something she wanted to do today on top of everything else…

The akuma has had time to get more followers and seems to have amassed a greater army by this point. The lynch mob that those followers have become were apparently in the process of trying to 1) hunt down Lila and 2) set up a pyre for the intended burning. While the followers have been focused on those two things, the akuma herself has been mobile and roaming around Paris, seemingly for the purpose of finding Lila while also enthralling more followers to aid her cause.

Tikki was one of those under the akuma’s influence as well. So far she had been trying to convince Marinette to not try and save Lila, which was…frustratingly tempting but not overall harmful. What WAS of concern was the question of what effect Tikki’s condition would have on Ladybug once transformed. Would Ladybug immediately be under the akuma’s thrall as well? Or would Tikki’s state influence the Lucky Charm? The former seemed unlikely, but she couldn’t rule out the latter.

There has as of yet been no sign of Chat Noir. She had no way of knowing where he was or if the akuma had already gotten to him. Her hope was that he, like Marinette, was also unaffected by the akuma’s words since he also knew what Lila was capable of. Or he should at least, given they were both aware of Lila’s multiple akumatizations and her helping Hawk Moth. He may not go to her school or know Lila personally, but he should know that much, right?

And then there was Lila herself. Marinette had no idea where she had escaped to after her failed attempt to sacrifice Marinette to the angry mob, but she at least knew that the mob hadn’t found her yet. She wanted to take some relief at that, but unfortunately knew she couldn’t. Given Lila’s previous antics and that the fact she was being hunted did nothing to even so much as slow her down from attempting other self-serving things, Marinette was honestly more worried about what all Lila could have gotten up to. While the smart thing to do would be to hide somewhere and wait, Marinette wouldn’t put it past the liar to take advantage of whatever opportunity this mess could give her, even at the risk of her own safety.

Part of her felt guilty for that being her bigger concern. The rest of her, however, knew better. She knew full well what Lila was like, after all. She had seen her at her worst first-hand.

Maybe that was why she hadn’t fallen under the akuma’s sway? Even if she didn’t know every horrible the things Lila had done, she still knew Lila was capable of anything. So nothing the akuma announced Lila has done actually surprised her.

It may only be a matter of time, though. Even Ladybug had her limits.

“Okay. Okay.” Marinette slapped her cheeks to focus. “Just…find the akuma, purify it, and this will all be over.”

Well, not ALL over. There would still be the matter of Lila’s theft and reveal of her lies. That money needed to be recovered. Rose still needed help. There were legal issues to take into account. But there were still plenty of ways of dealing with those things. Ways which didn’t involve fire. 

Marinette just needed to deal with the akuma so she could actually have some peace to address those problems. Or at the very least, so the world would stop trying to tempt her to allowing murder to take place.

Resolute and with a plan, Marinette walked out of the alleyway.

And right into one of the main sources of her troubles.

“Lila?!”

Speak of the devil…

“What happened to you?” Marinette asked, immediately concerned. Lila’s hair was damp and frizzing. It looked like she had just taken a shower—though the smell certainly said differently. Marinette had to fight the instinct to draw away from the odor. “Are you okay? And…wait…are those my clothes?” Marinette cut off with narrowed eyes at the girl as she recognized what she was wearing as coming from her own wardrobe.

“There was an unfortunate misunderstanding.” Lila said, waving it off.

Yeah, not buying it.

“Being?”

“Nothing you need to know about. I made it out, however, and your parents were happy to help me.” Lila said before looked down at her new attire, pulling at a sleeve distastefully. “I can’t say much about their taste though…”

“So you were at my house.” Which was no small cause of annoyance given that Marinette had been trying to take her there earlier, but knowing Lila had been in her home without her knowledge…

Marinette sighed, resigned. “What did you do?”

Lila gasped, looking affronted. “Why would you assume I did anything?”

Because Lila’s a lying snake she couldn’t trust with a stale bagel, much less her home.

She merely gave Lila a dry look. “Because if you had been at the bakery, there must be a reason why you’re out in the streets now.”

While she loved her parents dearly, they weren’t always the most dependable. Sabrina had gotten into her room once before by slipping past them when they weren’t paying attention to just WHOM was going up to her room. Then there was the situation with Chloe’s bracelet and her father doing more to admonish her for defending herself than helping her when she was accused. Or the way her parents didn’t really listen to her when Lila had gotten her expelled.

Knowing them, they would try and help Lila regardless of her previous false accusations. Even if it meant allowing Lila access to things she shouldn’t be allowed access to. Like Marinette’s clothes. Or her room.

…please say they didn’t let her into her room.

“I have better options for places to hide than a sad little one-note bakery.”

Marinette was not impressed. “Then why did you end up at the bakery instead of wherever that was?”

Lila laughed. “Well, they did offer. And who am I to turn down a free offer, even if it’s from your parents?” She shook her head. “You would think they would have known better. But they are rather trusting, aren’t they? They trusted me easily enough. First with your ‘crimes’ and now again.”

She clenched her fists. “Because you lied!”

“So what if I did? It says something when they were willing to believe me over you.” Lila shrugged, uncaringly. “But does it say more about me? Or you?”

Lila was clearly baiting her. But if nothing else, this day had taught Marinette to deny temptation.

“Are you REALLY trying to start a fight right now? In case it’s slipped your mind, Lila, there are a lot of very angry people trying to hunt you down. And every bad thing you do is only giving them more ammunition to want to hunt you!”

Lila hesitated at that, looking uncertain for all of a moment before settling back into cool confidence. “Those idiots would believe anything. I could just as easily tell them that everything from before was the result of another akuma. Or that my ‘illness’ was acting up. They would believe it that. After all, they believed me about all my other injuries.”

Marinette shook her head.

“You can’t keep it up forever, Lila. Your lies rely on emotional appeal to make people feel sorry for you or obligated to help you. But people will get tired of it and then what? You just move on to the next school?”

“The next school. The next community. The next city. The next country. It’s worked for me so far.”

“Because you’ve never been held accountable so far. But the mess you make isn’t going to go away this time.”

“It doesn’t matter. Ladybug will save me, and then she'll save the day, just like she always does. Because she just has to be ‘the hero’.” Lila rolled her eyes. “She's too much of a goodie two shoes to fall for mudslinging. Then all I have to do is point out to everyone that Ladybug herself believed in me when no one else did and they’ll fall back in line. I will be queen again. Or if I can’t continue there, I can simply transfer out and start over somewhere else where I can. So it really doesn't matter what happens."

Marinette didn’t even hide the glare at this point. “And who is going to help you survive that long? Who do you have in your back pocket who will be willing to face down an akuma leading an angry mob out for your head?”

She stepped forward and Lila took a tentative step back.

“I’m certainly not seeing anyone else here with you right now. I mean, sure, I was willing to help you, and then you literally tried to sacrifice me to the akuma. My parents would gladly have kept you safe at the bakery unless you did something. Who do you even have that you haven’t turned against you? I would love to know.”

“Hey, I had your friends in my corner.” Lila shot back.

“In case you haven’t noticed, Lila: right now, I am the only person anywhere close to your corner. In fact, I’m probably the only person in all of Paris who wants you to NOT die a horrible fiery death despite knowing full well just how horrible of a person you are.”

“And of course you’re so concerned about me.” Lila scoffed.

“Against my better judgement.” Marinette muttered.

“Oh please.” She replied with a roll of her eyes. “We both know you would happily leave me to perish if you had the chance.”

Marinette glared. “That’s the sort of thing you would do, Lila. But I’m not like you.”

She was angry. And she would be lying if there wasn’t a good part of her that wanted to simply give up 

But Lila only sneered. “Of course not, you’re like Ladybug. Self righteous, holier-than-thou, so-called heroes who have to stick your noses into other people’s business even when it doesn’t affect you.”

“You were lying to people!” Marinette exclaimed hotly. It was perhaps a bit too loudly, but she was having increasing difficulty caring at this point.

“And what did that matter for either of you?”

Marinette bristled. But Lila ignored her, continuing to speak and defend herself.

“I only told people what they wanted to hear. Alya wanted news for her blog. The others wanted stories. Even Adrien wanted a connection to a superhero. So what did it matter if I gave it to them whether it was real or not? It didn’t warrant what Ladybug did. And anything I’ve done since didn’t have to happen if not for her. Honestly, this is really all her fault.”

“Ladybug’s fault?!” Marinette gaped.

She…she couldn’t be serious?

But Lila nodded, resolutely.

Marinette just stared. Did…did she really believe her own lies that much?

The fact that she was even now trying to justify it only made her more angry. Her actions as Ladybug weren’t the best, and were far from heroic. She admitted to being wrong and apologized at that time and even afterwards to no effect. But here and now, especially with Lila’s continued and even worsening antics, she wanted to defend her masked self. And this may be the only time she would get to do so.

“It’s not Ladybug’s fault you lied about being her best friend and another superhero to Adrien.”

Lila paused before frowning at Marinette, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “And how do you know about that?”

Normally, Marinette would have stumbled and tried to stutter out some weak excuse. But Marinette was tired, angry, and beyond caring. For once, she didn’t even miss a beat.

“Because it’s not like you were confronted by a superhero in a public park where anyone could happen to be nearby and witness it or anything.” She replied dryly.

Lila’s eyes widened. “So that’s how you knew I was lying?”

Marinette didn’t answer. Fortunately, she didn’t need to.

“I was just trying to impress Adrien. But he only had eyes for a superhero. Was it so wrong to want to get his attention the only way I could?” Lila said by way of explanation, sounding sad and hurt in a way Marinette could almost believe if it weren’t for the fact that the person it was coming from was Lila. And sure enough, Lila turned to Marinette, appearing for all intents and purposes as if they were somehow bonded through a shared suffering over a boy they both liked. “You know what it’s like, don’t you? The way he’s only watching her? Isn’t it unfair that for all the good you do for him, he doesn’t see you? That he worships a stranger in a mask over the real life hero who is beside him every day?”

Her words stung a bit, yes. Mostly because she knew they weren’t true. Adrien was in love with Kagami, not Ladybug. So whether or not Marinette was wearing a mask didn’t matter.

Thus she ignored Lila’s attempts to draw her in and focused on the glaring problem in her story.

“And what was she supposed to do if Adrien or Alya or anyone came up to her and asked her about you?”

And like that, Lila’s caring facade broke as her face twisted into an ugly snarl.

“She was supposed to never find out and just keep her mouth shut. But she went and blabbed. She made me look like a liar in front of Adrien.”

The fact that it was only because she WAS a liar seemed to not matter to her, much to Marinette’s disbelief.

“I had Adrien Agreste hanging off my every word and then she came along and ruined it!” Lila was seething at the memory.

Hearing all of this only made things worse. Even now, Lila saw nothing wrong with anything she did, only with how others responded to her. And to hear her blast Ladybug in such a way made Marinette’s ire rise.

“He would have figured it out.” Marinette pointed out. Adrien was smart. Trusting and kind, but not easily fooled. “You claimed to be a superhero but what  was going to happen when you couldn’t transform or use your superpowers to back it.”

“I could just say I can’t transform without cause and compromise my identity—“

“Then why even tell him you were a hero in the first place?” Marinette countered, more annoyed. “The entire plan was stupid! You revealed yourself to a stranger for no real reason! You two didn’t know each other! You had no connection with him to establish trust or any reason TO tell him such vital information!”

Lila glared, looking downright petulant. “It wouldn’t have mattered if he believed me.”

Of all the…

“Even if he DID believe you at first,” Marinette continued. “It only would have made him more upset with you when the truth came out. And it would have come out soon enough. He was bound to notice that no Fox-themed hero was joining Ladybug in fights.”

“I would have been in reserve.” Lila reasoned.

“Given how bad some akumas have gotten, no amount of excuses could justify NOT using extra help. And what about when the other heroes started appearing? What, were you going to claim to be Rena Rouge?”

That made Lila grimace. “There weren’t supposed to BE any other heroes.”

Marinette threw up her hands. “You read the book! You saw the pictures! That’s how you even knew about Volpina in the first place!”

Lila blinked in surprise. “Wait, how do you know about that?”

Marinette glared angrily. “Who do you think returned that book to Adrien’s father after you threw it in the trash?”

“Oh right. You were spying on us.” Lila smirked.

“You’re lucky I was there at all!” Marinette bit out through gritted teeth. “That book belonged to Adrien’s FATHER! He was FURIOUS when it was lost! Enough that he was going to pull Adrien out of school for losing it!”

Which she was still upset over. Especially since she had taken the blame for it instead of admitting Lila did it.

“Even if your plan HAD worked, you wouldn’t have had a chance at Adrien anyway because he wouldn’t be in school anymore! He’s only in school now because I took the hit and returned it.”

“Yes, and I’m sure you only had the most ‘noble’ of intentions.” The other girl stated with a roll of your eyes. “And the fact that you would be losing any chance at Adrien had NOTHING to do with it. Don’t act like you’re any different.”

“I did it so HE would be happy.” Marinette insisted. “Because Adrien loves coming to school and I didn’t want him to lose that. Don’t even try to claim we’re the same when you’re the only reason he was put in that position in the first place!”

She was getting more heated and was finding it harder to care. But it was like everything Lila had done and every reason Marinette disliked her was rushing back into her head.

“The one thing I’ve noticed is that not only do you lie, but you don’t think your lies through. What was even the point of claiming all the things you did?” She questioned, looking at Lila in the eyes. Legitimately trying to understand. “You don’t just claim minor things to get by. You tell outrageous lies that are difficult to believe in the first place and are easy to disprove. And for what? To get people to hold things for you and buy you lunch or ice cream. Then what? It’s just…”

Pointless. That was the problem. Lila’s lies were completely pointless in the end. They offered some short term benefit but failed to hold up over time—whether in believability or interest. While it was true that Marinette’s concern was for her classmates who had no benefit from Lila’s lies, the thing was that Lila had nothing to gain from them either.

It was like she was lying for the sake of lying.

“Do you even notice the impact you’re having on others? Or care? What are you even getting out of it?”

What could possibly make it all worth it?

There was a period of silence as the two stared at each other.

Then Lila…

Lila just laughed.

“What don’t I get out of it? Their focus. Their adoration. I am their Queen in a way Chloe Bourgeois wishes she was. The center of attention. The one they adore. Wasn’t that why you really got upset with me that first day back?”

“What?”

“Oh come on, even you must get it or you wouldn’t try so hard to play up the ‘good girl’ angle to make people like you.”

Marinette drew back, confused.

“Everybody plays each other. That’s all anybody ever does. We play parts.”

She didn’t believe that. In a way she could try and understand Lila’s logic considering her secret identity. But even with her mask of Ladybug and her role as a hero, it wasn’t just a ‘part to play’. Ladybug was still Marinette, and Marinette was still Ladybug. They were parts, certainly, but they were both her.

The difference between Marinette with her dual roles and Lila with her lies was that Lila had a choice. She didn’t need to lie or pretend to be someone she wasn’t. And in that same vein, she certainly 

“You chose to play this part.” Marinette argued. “You never had to lie for anyone to like you.”

“Oh please. Do you really think they would have done anything for me if I hadn’t lied?”

“YES. They were being nice! They’re nice people!”

Lila rolled her eyes, unimpressed.

“And,” Marinette continued. “You didn’t have to use and abuse their kindness the way you’ve been doing. There was no reason to lie to the extent you did. You could have avoided more trouble if you hadn’t. And yet you not only lied about running a charity, but you used the opportunity to steal the money Rose had raised. Was it even worth it?”

“I got some things out of it at least.” Lila said, uncaring.

“And one of those ‘things’ happens to be an akuma after your head. What plan could you possibly have to prevent THAT?”

"I have friends in high places." Lila stated in an infuriatingly smug manner.

"Unless one of those friends is Hawk Moth, that's not going to help you right now!"

Lila chuckled, giving Marinette a knowing look. As if she knew a secret.

And because it was Lila, who couldn’t seem to resist gloating when she thought she had the edge over someone else…

“Then I have nothing to worry about. It’s not like he would let anything happen. Not to me.”

“Wait—what?”

Marinette had known Lila had been akumatized more than once. She also knew that Lila had tried to help Hawk Moth before. But that had seemed like she had been taking advantage of circumstances at the time. She hadn’t realized Lila was actively working with Hawk Moth!

“Are you saying you’re working WITH Hawk Moth?!”

Lila held a hand to her mouth, looking innocent. “Not at all! I’m merely saying that I’m useful to him. Enough that it would benefit him more to keep me around than it would to let the akuma kill me.”

Marinette stared incredulously.

“Besides, even if Rose wants to harm me, Ladybug and Chat Noir always take priority. Once they show up, she’ll be too focused on them to care about me. And if she does get to me, Hawk Moth would stop it before it gets too far.”

“You’re trusting a supervillain to help you?”

She couldn’t be serious!

“He can’t afford to get rid of me. I came closest to defeating Ladybug and Chat Noir in my first akumatization.”

Oh god, she was serious.

“He doesn’t need you, Lila! Hawk Moth’s entire MO has been to manipulate and use people for his own ends! What makes you think you are any different?”

“Because I know how to play him and he knows how much I hate Ladybug.”

Marinette gaped.

“You really hate her that much over one incident? Are you really that petty that you would actively try to help the guy terrorizing Paris?”

It…she couldn’t even rationalize it.

Here Lila was, still completely lacking any personal accountability for anything. After lying and manipulating her friends. After stealing from Rose. After framing Marinette. After working against Ladybug. After admitting to using and manipulating Adrien. After trying to throw Marinette under the bus to save her own skin. After helping to create an akuma that even now was overtaking Paris. And all she could care about was how Ladybug pointed out she was a liar one time.

“She humiliated me!”

And Marinette was just done.

“GET OVER IT!”

Lila gaped at her in shock.

“Get. The hell. OVER it already! So Ladybug was mean when she called you out for lying about her and trying to make her look bad to prop yourself as a false hero to a boy you barely knew! CRY ME A RIVER!”

There was something amusing and even pleasing about the way Lila’s jaw opened and shut a few times before she managed to speak.

“But she made me look bad in front of Adrien!”

“Which wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t of lied about her in the first place!“ Marinette countered, pointing at Lila angrily. “You lied about her to him. You lied about being a hero. You lied about being her friend. And you used that claimed position to then insult her to try and make her look bad just to make yourself look better in comparison based off a made up story! It’s no wonder she was mad at you!”

“She was just wanting Adrien for herself—“

Marinette leaned forward, pointing at Lila agitatedly and causing Lila to take a step back. “She called you out for lying about her and pretending to be a superhero! Which by the way, was not only stupid and rude but DANGEROUS!”

“I was fine until she showed up!” Lila hissed.

“You gave an interview on the Ladyblog claiming to be Ladybug’s best friend!” Marinette shouted, gesturing to the wider Paris to emphasize the point. “Did it not occur to you in the slightest how horribly dangerous that was? How BAD that could have gone? If any run of the mill criminal had believed it? If Hawk Moth believed it?”

“But he didn’t.”

“Because Ladybug called you out! Which was the reason you got akumatized in the first place so he knew! And yet all this time, you’ve been holding a grudge over it!” Marinette clenched her fists in fury. “Ladybug APOLOGIZED to you for it! TWICE! And even offered to actually be your friend and thus make ONE of your lies true! And you threw it away out of spite! You gave up a legitimate opportunity that would have worked to your benefit in favor of working with a supervillain because you can’t let go of a petty grudge!”

“I—”

“And for WHAT?” She demanded. “A bunch of lies that didn’t even matter to you!”

“How do you—“

“I mean, they clearly must not have been that important since you’ve been telling so many that you couldn’t even keep them straight! And you are willing to damn Paris and everyone in it just because ONE of them was revealed?! WHAT THE HECK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”

Lila remained silent, simply staring at Marinette angrily and ultimately answering the question for her. Marinette on her end growled in anger, raising her hands to emphasize the point and desperately wishing for something to wring.

“Are you even angry because Ladybug was rude in how she outted you? Or are you angry that she realized you were lying at all?“

Lila looked away almost petulantly, and that was answer enough even before she spoke.

“I was hurt!”

“You were stupid! You never needed to lie about anyone! It would have been less trouble for you if you hadn’t! None of this would have even been an issue if not for you starting it all in the first place! AND FOR WHAT?” Marinette questioned. “A free lunch and to get to sit next to a guy who you made uncomfortable enough that he chose to switch seats twice just to get away from you?”

Lila gasped and glared at Marinette in outrage. Her mouth opened to spit something that would no doubt be more vitriol.

“Whoa! Am I interrupting?”

Both girls spun in surprise to see Chat Noir landing on the ground a few feet away.

“Chat Noir! Thank goodness you’re here!” Lila cried as she rushed over to him, the picture of helpless and in distress.

Marinette wanted to gag.

“Of course!” Chat replied, amping up the charm. He smiled suavely as Lila proceeded to latch onto his arm. “No akuma can keep this cat away when there’s a damsel in need.”

“Oh, I am!” Lila exclaimed, sounding tearful. “This entire day has been terrible and now an akuma is after me!”

Chat gasped at that. “That’s horrible!”

What the hell, Chat? You KNOW it’s Lila! You KNOW what she’s like!

He looked from Lila to Marinette. “I should get you both out of here then before the akuma arrives.”

Marinette hesitated. While in most circumstances it would be best to stick together, she needed to find someplace hidden to transform. Especially now that she knew her partner was active.

But before she could speak, Lila squeezed Chat’s arm.

“Oh, but wouldn’t it be faster with less people?” Lila asked innocently. “You could just carry me to safety.”

Chat raised an eyebrow at that. “But there’s three of us. I can’t just leave Marinette here.”

But Lila wasn’t deterred. She made her eyes wide and fearful as she clutched Chat’s arm in apparent fear to the point Marinette wondered if it hadn’t gone numb from lack of circulation. “I’m the one the akuma is after. The mob won’t even bother with her.”

Chat Noir looked between the two girls, still uncertain.

To add to her argument, Lila leaned in closer to Chat to whisper to him. “And I’m scared. I think she may try to hand me over the mob. You saw the way she was yelling at me, didn’t you?”

He looked back to Marinette, uncertain. “I don’t know…”

…..

Marinette sighed.

Yeah, she pretty much knew that was coming.

As much as she hated siding with Lila, this could be the only opportunity she has. It helped her own plans, but still. Dammit Lila!

"Lila's right. You need to be quick. I'll be okay on my own." 

The hero frowned, not entirely convinced but seeming to accept the answer.

As if noticing his hesitation, Lila pulled on his arm to get his attention. “We should hurry before anyone else shows up!”

Chat shook himself. “Yeah. You’re right. We’d better go.”

Marinette watched as Lila settled herself in Chat’s arms, naturally not missing the opportunity to shoot the pig-tailed girl a smirk that Marinette forced herself not to react to. Chat, meanwhile, kept his gaze on Marinette.

“Civilians are getting set up at the Eiffel Tower. You should head there, too.” He told her, giving her a wink.

“Take care!” She gave a weak smile in return and waved them off. Without much further ado, Chat carried Lila away. Marinette watched them go until they could no longer be seen. Until finally…

She was alone.

She was alone and feeling oh so drained from that whole encounter. Feeling shaky, she stepped towards a wall and leaned against it for support. Shoulders slumped, she let herself slide into a sitting position on the ground.

Marinette took a breath.

“I shouldn’t have done that.”

She shouldn’t have. She was just…so angry after everything.

Lila was bad enough as is, but this whole mess on top of her usual stress-inducing antics? And Marinette having to constantly go out of her way to help her despite everything she’s done and continues to try to do?

It was everything Marinette had been wanting to say.

But...that didn’t make it right.

Tikki appeared before her holder, looking sad.

“You only said the truth.”

“I was angry and being mean.” Marinette insisted. Because when an emotion-manipulating supervillain like Hawk Moth was around, she should KNOW better than to do things that could upset people! How is it she hasn’t learned yet?

“It’s healthy to vent.”

Marinette shook her head. “I should have reined in my temper. After all, letting my anger get the best of me was what started this mess with Lila in the first place.”

“No, that was on Lila for lying about you so much.” Tikki insisted. “She lied about being your friend to everyone. She lied about knowing who you were to Adrien. And then she turned around and tried to disparage you not even seconds later just to make herself look better. You had every right to be angry then, just as you had every right to feel angry now.”

She looked at the kwami. Somehow, that was helpful and not at the same time.

It was everything she wanted to hear…and yet…

Marinette sighed.

“Thanks, Tikki.”

She wished she could believe her.

But the real Tikki would never say that.

____________________

He felt the wind through his hair as he ran through the streets. Lila’s weight in his arms was heavy but manageable. Her grip around him was not exactly pleasant, though. And he really wanted to make for the rooftops and travel his usual way, but…well…circumstances didn’t really make that advisable.

“Thank you so much! You truly are a hero.” She gushed. She was certainly trying to play it up once they were alone.

“Lila lied about saving Jagged Stone’s kitten! She lied about having tinnitus!”

It took him a bit to figure out just what the akuma was doing. Her news didn’t surprise him, since he already knew those claims were fake. So he spent more time than he should have just looking at her in confusion and trying to work out what her power was for when he met up with Ladybug.

It was admittedly faster carrying Lila. And easier to manage than trying to handle two girls at once. He only would have been able to carry one to begin with, and it would have been difficult to try and guide them both while keeping an eye out for interlopers and make sure nothing happened to either of them before they made it to the destination. Really, it was the better choice to just let him carry Lila.

But part of him was disappointed. He’d still really wanted to try and take both girls with him. Marinette especially didn’t deserve to be left behind. But if she was the one telling him to go, there was little he could do about it.

“Lila threatened Marinette in the bathroom her first day back! She tried to bring Marinette under her thumb by threatening to ruin her friendships with everyone and to make sure she could never be around Adrien!”

He hadn’t known that. It made sense though, given that Lila had gone so far as to frame Marinette and get her expelled. He should have realized there had to have been an earlier altercation for her to actively target Marinette in such a way.

But if it had been that first day Lila came back? That same day Adrien had told Marinette not to reveal her lies?

That…hurt, actually. Why hadn’t Marinette told him about it? He’d just thought Lila was wanting attention or make herself seem special. He wouldn’t have told her to just let Lila lie if he’d known she was doing things like that!

“Of course.” He reassured her as he kept his eyes on his surroundings. It wouldn’t do to be caught too soon after all.

He also kept his awareness on Lila. Couldn’t put it past her to try something, either. But the girl seemed more interested in chattering, spinning some new tale, he was sure.

“Lila has been working with Hawk Moth and trying to help him take down Ladybug and Chat Noir!”

It was the multitude of gasps resounding in the area that clued him in to what the akuma was doing. He watched in dawning realization as the expressions of those around him shifted from fear to shock and then to pure outrage.

Almost immediately, mutterings began. Followed shortly by shouts.

“That witch!”

“She needs to burn!”

“Burn the witch!” The call started, and soon was echoed throughout the area.

It hit him then.

The akuma was making people mad. She was intentionally trying to provoke people and upset them through use of a list of Lila’s crimes. And once they were outraged by one of them, they became part of the akuma’s thralls.

This…wasn’t good.

He had to get out of here!

“Where are we going?” Lila asked, drawing him out of his thoughts.

“Don’t worry!” He told her with a charming smile. “I’m taking you where you need to be.”

She nodded and seemed to curl in closer to him. Almost snuggling. “What a relief. I knew you could be counted on.”

“I do try.”

“You certainly deserve more than to be considered Ladybug’s sidekick.”

“Hmm?”

He barely paid her words any mind, instead focusing on continuing to the destination.

“Lila was the one who stole Adrien’s book in order to pass herself off as a hero to get his attention!”

“Dude!” He heard Nino cry out. “That almost got him taken out of school!”

He started at that.

Lila had?

He had thought he lost it, but it was really Lila who stole it?

No, it made sense. She brought up heroes after seeing him looking through it. She had presented the same pendant from the book and claimed to be the ‘Fox Heroine Volpina’. And when he tried to look for the book to confirm, she stopped him.

But…how did his father get the book back then? Had Lila returned it? Knowing her, WOULD she have?

No. Lila hadn’t met his father until that day Kagami was akumatized. That meant whatever she did with the book, she wasn’t the one to bring it back. Not that he would have expected her to, knowing her. That w—

NO. FOCUS.

“—and of course it’s such a shame that she doesn’t appreciate all you do for her.” Lila continued.

“Of course Ladybug appreciates me. She’s told me I’m irreplaceable.”

Lila pouted. “But she doesn’t tell you everything, does she? She doesn’t respect you. How many secrets is she keeping from you?”

He frowned, but didn’t say anything.

Adrien sprinted towards the door.

“Lila intentionally took the akuma to become Chameleon and pretended to be Adrien to insult his friends, hurt Nino’s feelings, and steal his hat!”

He stumbled.

She did WHAT?!

No wonder Nino hadn’t been able to meet his eyes when he got back!

He felt the anger over the injustice. He should have said something that day. At least let Nino know what Lila was really like. Something!

It was getting too much. He could feel the pressure and anger build. It would have been so sweet to give into it and let it out and just make her PAY—

Adrien fumbled with the door to the outside, desperate to get away and out of earshot before he heard anything else.

He wasn’t sure he would be able to take it.

“She puts you down, you know.” Lila continued. “I’ve heard her talking badly about you.”

“Really?”

She nodded, appearing sad. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to have to be the one to tell you, but it’s only because I care. I just…” She pretended to wipe away a tear from her clearly dry eyes. “I just admire you so much and you deserve better than someone who keeps you at arm’s length.”

She smiled up at him, resting an arm on his bicep.

“If you ever need someone to turn to, I want you to know that you can trust me. I would support you in anything.”

And Chat…

Smiled back at her.

“Thank you, Lila. I’m glad to know I have your support.”

He made it outside and moved to close the door just as the final words rang out.

“Lila broke into the Agreste mansion to try to get an in with Gabriel and is serving as his spy in the school in an attempt to control Adrien!”

The door shut with a final thud.

Adrien stood there, hands on the door. Silent. Unmoving.

“Kid?” Plagg asked, poking his head out.

…

“I know that was rough, but you did well to keep your head.”

…

“Adrien, shouldn’t we be trying to find liar-girl and get her someplace safe?”

…

He paused, realizing there was no response.

“Adrien?”

…

Adrien turned away from the door and smiled, not really looking at his kwami.

“You’re right, Plagg. We should find Lila.”

Plagg froze.

Over the years and centuries working with various holders for a multitude of purposes, Plagg had gotten well versed in recognizing expressions. Faces said a lot, after all. And he could usually get a good reading off someone from their expressions.

Adrien’s expression in that moment? He’d seen it before.

It was that same murderous look in the eyes of every other Black Cat user he’d had when they had been pushed too far and were ready and willing to kill someone.

“Wait! Kid, hold on!”

“Plagg.”

“Adrien, think about it! You don’t want to do this!”

“Claws out.”

Lila finally seemed to take note of their surroundings. There had been no one in the streets for a while now, and the area around them had been strangely silent due to the lack of people. While she hadn’t known where exactly they were going, Chat seemed to be taking her in the direction of the Eiffel Tower. The closer they got, though, the more she could hear something in the distance.

And sure enough, as the Tower came into sight, Lila could see a rather dense crowd up ahead. Chat didn’t even react as she clutched at his arm, growing more uneasy the closer they got to the Eiffel Tower and the growing crowd.

“Chat Noir?” She drew out his name, uncertain and wary. “What’s going on?”

“I told you, didn’t I?” Chat replied with a smile that did not at all fit the ever growing atmosphere.

“I’m taking you where you need to be.”

He came to a stop at the square, keeping a firm grip on Lila so she couldn’t draw away. The crowd around them noticed their presence and parted, forming a path that led closer to the tower. And at the end stood a stack of wood and a very familiar figure.

Lila gasped.

“Hello, Lila!” Witch Hunter greeted her with an all too wide smile.

“We’re so happy you made it!”

[blueluneacy]

Tears of the Abandoned

I made a kars/reader. Bc I could. Fucking enjoy

Warnings: kars wins Au, yandere, major character death, literal genocide, just general nastiness, blood, biting

You had been in the mountains for days. You were starting to wonder if all of this talk or a temple out here was a myth. Maybe it was all just supposed to be a legend for people like you to get lost in the mountains, unable to find any piece of hope. But you had to try, you had to. There was nothing else you could do.

You knew that there would be no one left there, Straizo had made sure of that, the sick bastard. But you hoped, prayed even, that there was some texts remaining there, anything to try and get information on how to defeat the menace that had come over your world. Joseph never returned after Kars became the Ultimate Being. You could only assume the worst for him, for your friends. When you thought about it, you tried to hold back your tears, holding onto what your teacher, Lisa Lisa had told you, how for generations Hamon was taught out here, that there might be some sort of hope to kill what was essentially unkillable, and now taking over the earth. It was hard to run from someone so powerful, but your head start was certainly helpful. You silently thanked Joseph for keeping Kars busy for so long that you were able to get out of there, to start your journey across the world. You had no doubt that Kars was after you, hoping to snuff you out like he had done to the rest of your friends. The last Hamon user, and it was someone as pitiful as you. That had to be the most pathetic thing you’ve ever heard.

But still, you had something on your side, and that was your own stubbornness. If you gave up, the world didn’t have any more hope. You loathed to think about what was happening to humanity now that it was in the care of that monster, about what this world would become if you didn’t figure out a way to stop him, and quick. So, you kept walking, kept following the river in hopes of finding it. Trying to keep your mind off the guilt you felt, the responsibility in your mind you knew you didn’t bear but your heart sang was yours. You tried not to think about Kars, about how his eyes always pierced into his soul, how when he first saw you with Caesar and JoJo, he merely licked his lips as if looking at the most delightful snack. How when the two of you fought, his words were confident, teasing as he always easily defeated you. Even with whatever you could scrap together from the temple, would it be enough? You couldn’t even go toe to toe with the Pillarman before. Now look at you. Alone in the wilderness, hungry and tired. It was hard not to think about it all. About the hopelessness that threatened to creep into your heart, to give up and let yourself give into whatever this new world order was going to be.

But all those thoughts were set aside as you saw a building in the distance, your voice catching in your thought. Finally, finally after all this time, days of being on edge, wondering if even sleeping was safe for fear that you would wake up with teeth ripping out your throat, you were here. You practically bolted over to the temple, uncaring of the footprints you had been so careful to hide before. You smiled as you saw the stone, the wonderful sight leaving unwarranted joy to sprout up in your chest. It had to be here, it had to be! As you got to the doorway, seeing how plants had weaved their way into the stone, a pang in realizing the signs of disuse. You kept moving, setting your things down as you took a moment to take a deep breath. On one hand, it sounded wonderful to rest for a moment, to look for food and get to recovering from your journey. On the other, you were running on stolen time as it is. No doubt was Kars looking for you, and finding this place would just be the cherry on top to him. You needed to find what you needed and get out of here, for the sake of the world. It dimly occurred to you that since you were the only one left, technically it would be your responsibility to train the next generation of Hamon users. Man, either way, the world really was fucked.

You treaded lightly, as to not disturb the dust too much, looking through the building. Your hope started to drain as you barely found anything, just the remnants of people who used to live here. Plates, old clothes, but not one scrap of paper. It was like someone had specifically tried to get rid of… Oh no. The realization dawned on you as you began to tear through the temple, hoping to find something, anything, that when Straizo destroyed most of the Hamon users, he didn’t destroy their knowledge with them. You found a doorway that seemed to be locked, leaving you to almost cry out in frustration, banging on the door until finally you gave in and gave it a sharp Hamon kick to knock the damn thing down. When you saw what was inside though, you wanted to wail.

Ash. The room was covered in ash, scraps of paper that were once part of books now nothing but tinder. Everything, it was all gone. The knowledge of generations, destroyed and lost forever. Ancient techniques with any hope of you finding a way to defeat the Ultimate Being now destroyed, you couldn’t help but fall to your knees…. And just sob. All this, all the sacrifices made. The way Caesar gave his life on his battle with Whamuu, the way Joseph and Lisa Lisa distracted Kars for you to get away in hopes that you would find something, anything, to save everyone… It was all gone. It was all for nothing. You cried, cried for everything that was gone, all because of him. All because of everyone, this toppling domino effect that you had the misfortune of being at the end of. The world really was cruel.

“I see that it’s gone. What a shame.” You tensed up as you heard the voice behind you, low and obviously satisfied as his piercing eyes tore through you, eating up your despair. You just swallowed, trying to pull yourself together. You knew that you were going to die, but you at least wanted there to be some sort of dignity in it. You would die like a warrior, not sniveling over what was lost.

“You’re faster than I thought. But would it kill you to knock before just barging in? I could’ve gotten ready and made us some tea.” You turned to face your enemy, this monster that threatened to ruin everything, who already had, in a way. You tried to ignore the puffiness of your eyes, already getting yourself ready for a fight. You knew you would lose, but it didn’t matter. At least, you might be able to see your friends soon.

“You’re already itching to fight? You should already know that it’s useless.” Kars told you, stepping forward into range of you. You growled, easily swinging your leg to hit him in the side with a sharp Hamon kick. Kars paused for a moment, simply grabbing your leg and gripping it tight, pulling your forward. You gasped and lost your balance, falling to the ground. You let out a yelp as your head hit the ground, your vision going just a little hazy as Kars took advantage of the moment, descending upon you and easily taking your wrists into one hand, pinning them above your head. It was like Kars just absorbed the blow, not even flinching at what you did. You tried to swallow back your fear, putting on a brave face.

“You’re stubborn, just like the rest. How poetic, the last Hamon user in the temple I once attempted to destroy thousands of years ago. There’s nothing left, nowhere left for you to run…” Kars purred into your ear, leaving you to gulp as his satisfaction from the ordeal didn’t feel simply like the satisfaction of defeating an enemy. Still, you let yourself grit your teeth, squirming and growling back at the terrible thing.

“I won’t be the last Hamon user. I know someone out there, somehow, will know how to defeat you. They will avenge me. They’ll avenge all of us, and most importantly, destroy you.” You replied, vitriol spilling out into your words. Kars just stopped, thinking about your words, before laughing heartily at your declaration.

“Oh, you poor poor thing. You’ve been in the mountains so long that you haven’t seen the state of the world out there. How pathetic.” Kars chuckled, leaving you to swallow as your eyes went wide, trying to convince yourself that it was a lie, that he wanted you to wonder what he meant, wanted to snuff out the hope in your heart before he finally ended your life. He was toying with his prey, and yet you couldn’t help but still ask.

“What the hell are you talking about? What did you do?!” You tried to sound fierce, angry, but in the end all you sounded was desperate.

“Well, I didn’t do anything. It just became terribly difficult to control my army once victory was secured. You know how they are, wanting to bask in their victory. There are a few small pockets of humans left, of course, but… Well, they’ve fallen in line quite nicely.” Kars’ voice was sickeningly pleased, leaving you just to swallow. God, did they really… Oh god, in just that short of a time? You weren’t sure you could take on Kars, much less an army. God, oh god, oh god, there really was no hope left. Not for you, or for anyone else.

“I… I hate you. You sicken me. I’ll see you in hell one day, Kars, mark my words.” You growled, before resigning yourself to death, awaiting Kars’ witty comeback before he slit your throat. You tried not to tense up when his sharp teeth got close to your neck, but… His teeth never tore open your neck like you thought they would.

“Oh, my dear, I think there might be a misunderstanding. You aren’t going to die, not today.” He growled, before giving into temptation and letting his teeth sink into your neck, easily drinking from you as you cried out and squirmed, trying to break free from his grasp. Oh god, was he planning to turn you into a zombie? What irony would it be if you became a mindless puppet, unable to resist his commands for all eternity? You growled, looking for some way out of this mess, before realizing where exactly your leg was situated. Kars had slotted your legs between his own to try and hold you still, but as he lost himself in the taste of your blood, his hold on them loosened, giving you a severe edge. If this didn’t work, well, that was gonna suck, but if it did… Well, no one can say you never went down without a fight. It was now or never, Kars was relaxed as his tongue began to run over the wound on your neck, lapping up the excess blood he had missed. You swallowed, reared your leg back as best you could, and straight up kicked Kars in the dick.

He hissed out in pain, his grip loosening as he curled over, and it was enough for you to quickly wriggle free, quickly running out of the room. You heard Kars roar your name, and you knew that he wasn’t that far behind you. But, you had the advantage of being smaller, more nimble, and in a facility built by and for Hamon users. You had no doubt there would be some sort of hidden door in here, or something only unlocked by Hamon, something you knew that Kars wouldn’t be able to get through. Kars would be lumbering after you, much larger than you and having trouble getting through doorways. You kept on moving, gasping as you heard Kars’ heavy footsteps behind you, running down a flight of stairs. I mean, you couldn’t just go out into the wilderness, Kars would oh so easily be able to just fly over and pluck you up. But you knew that he would stay here until he found you, unless he thought you had somehow escaped. But for now, you just had to figure out a way to beat him, to at least be free of him for a moment, so you could collect all the information you had obtained in your brain and try to come up with a game plan. You just gulped, panicking as you heard Kars coming closer, far too close to be comfortable, before just… Going behind a cabinet. Was it the best hiding place? No. Was it the only option right now? Yeah.

You heard Kars pause when he reached the bottom of the staircase, looking around and actually… Humming, as if amused by all this.

“It was impressive that you were able to get past me like this, but this hiding place is just poor. Did you really never train here? No wonder your Hamon is so lacking. You were never meant to be a master, dear.” Kars’ voice was so matter of fact, leaving you to just grit your teeth. He was weaseling his way into one of your biggest insecurities, about how you were the weakest of your group, and you hated him for it.

“Always so determined and stubborn, but not even your teacher could defeat me. You have never been able to even land a solid blow on me before, though your attempts were always cute. But that’s over now. I’m willing to make you a deal, to give up a lot more in comparison than what you have to give.” He spoke smoothly, carefully. You could tell he was trying to keep his ears perked up, to listen closely in case you gasped or moved. But you kept still, kept listening, hoping that something, anything would happen for you to gain some sort of advantage.

“There’s a reason why you aren’t already dead where you stand, sweetling. You’re meant to be mine, to be by my side. I know deep down, you know that too. Everything that has happened has led up to this point. To when you finally give in to me.” You felt Kars lean against the cabinet you were behind, beginning to slowly crush you, and you just tried to keep your cool, to stop yourself from gasping out in pain. When it finally seemed like too much, that maybe you were finally going to die or at least cry out from it all, Kars cursed to himself.

“A window? How could I have not spotted that? Damn brat…” You heard him grumble and pull off the cabinet, walking over to the other side of the room. There was some rustling, before you heard him just grumble again and pull himself up, before the sound of feet in the snow seemed to make you calm down. You let out a small sigh, waiting just a few more minutes before you stepped out from behind the cabinet, looking around to make sure this wasn’t a trap. You began to walk up the stairs carefully, becoming more and more confident as you moved through the temple. When you finally walked past the library the two of you started at, you felt just a little confident as you began to walk to the entrance to grab your things and get out of here. You grinned as you got to your bag, pulling it over your shoulder and beginning to step out the door, only for a hand to grab the back of your neck and pull you back inside. If this were a cartoon, you’d probably make a squeaky toy sound.

“Did you really think your little game of hide and seek was going to keep you away from me?” Kars growled, his claws digging into you as he pulled your body against his, your back against his chest, his mouth against your ear as he tried to hold back his anger. “I have you in my grasp now, so I suggest you stop struggling.”

“No! Never, I’m never going to stop fighting you! You can’t just take me for some sick victory fantasy you have, I’d rather die!” You yelled, leaving Kars just to scoff as he held onto you tighter, lifting you up as you kicked and squirmed.

“Oh, you will. You don’t have any other choice unless you don’t care about those humans you love so much.” He practically spat into your ear, leaving you to freeze up in Kars’ arm, giving him ample time to adjust and pull you into a princess carry.

“Oh, I have your attention now, do I? How infuriating.” Kars dug his nails, more like claws with how sharp they were, into your side. “But still. You will do as I say, or else I will slaughter every single one of the remaining people on this earth, do you understand?” When he spoke, you couldn’t help but squirm again. This was probably selfish of you at this point, but he couldn’t be serious. Could he?

“L-Let me go, please! Don’t do this!” You cried, at the point of begging. You weren’t begging for your life, you would much rather die than be in the hands of Kars. But perhaps he knew that, and used the fact to torture you.

“Oh darling, I wish I didn’t have to work in ultimatums like this, but you’ve given me no choice. If you try to run away, I promise you. I will destroy every last one of them, and I will find you again and let you know exactly what you caused.” He told you, leaving you just to swallow. You knew that the look in his eyes was serious, deathly so. You began to relax, tears welling up in your eyes as you looked away. You bit them back, not wanting to give Kars the pleasure of seeing them, of how hopeless this world has become. Kars just smiled, pulling you closer as he began to walk off to who knows where, taking you to some corner of the Earth you would never be able to escape from, both from your own guilt and the looming threat over your head.

“Oh pet. You’ll learn to adore me the same way I adore you.” Kars told you, his voice softer, more gentle as he pet your hair. Without any other choice, you simply wrapped your arms around the man, watching as the temple slowly disappeared out of existence. “I’ll have them destroy that tomorrow evening. Now then…” Kars leaned in, letting his nose just graze against yours.

“Kiss me.” He was demanding, and you knew that there was no way you could resist. So you leaned in, letting your lips press against his, gasping as he nipped at your lip, only for him to take advantage and shove his tongue into your mouth. You whimpered and just let Kars do what he pleased, gasping when he finally pulled away. You could see the smug smirk on his face, so pleased in seeing you falling so far. You just buried your face into Kars’ chest, doing something, anything to hide from his prying eyes.

You wondered if he felt the tears that were falling from your eyes.

[selenacosmic]

I’m honestly surprised none of the warlords have discovered mc’s magazine guide (at least not in the routes I’ve read), so may I request headcanons for that to happen? Anyone that you wanna do (though I do have a bias for masamune)

Oh, that would be so fun to see! Of course, I will do it! Thank you for the request!!

Warlords finding the magazine guide.

Oda forces.

Nobunaga Oda.

You two were already lovers, and he would always love to go to your room, it was such a comfortable place for him. Specially because he would be fascinated by the things you had from the future. But he could still see that some of your things were in your strange bag that you called a “purse”.

Nobunaga is respectful when it comes to you, but the temptation to see what you hid in that bag was stronger. He carefully opened it, feeling how nice the texture was. Smelled nice too, like you.

He saw some papers, with a very strange yet perfect writing, seemed like the person could write a word always in the same way, without any mistake! You might know that as the letters of a computer, but to him it was a perfect sense of motor coordination.

He also saw some of your lipsticks that you would still use, the design was a very fine one. And he knew that color would look beautiful on you. His eyes saw something even more interesting though.

Magazine guide? It is a book to teach something? What kind of things did the future taught, he wondered. Excited to see it, he opened and started to read. And oh boy did he read every little detail of that magazine.

It was about him, his vassals and enemies, part of their story explained. Very short facts, and some of them weren’t true. It seems that the future is trying to teach people about him and what he had done for the nation. Of course, it had others warlords, but to know that the future had knowledge about what he is doing. In his heart, his mission was worth it.

That night, when you came back, he hugged you very tightly.

Masamune Date

This boy doesn’t know the meaning of the word “private”. Of course, if you said something is not okay, then is not okay. But in general, he would always put himself in your business, willing to help if you want. But this time, he was curious.

He was curious about you, about your time, he had never really asked about your life, what you used to experience in the future, and he wanted to know more! He knew you would never get rid of that cute bag of yours, so he went and took it to give a good look at it.

Lipsticks, it was nice on his mouth, and colored well, he could only smirk at how handsome he looked with it on. He saw a strange looking weapon, what you might know as a pepper spray. He wa excited to use it, but for once, he decided to read the bottle to see how it worked. It was meant to spray against the eyes of the aggressor? Heh, how ironic for him to have seen this.

You were a tough lass, he felt proud of you to have that. Finally, a strange looking book, it was actually smooth to the touch, it was nice. He opened it and started to get excited, was that him? It was a strange drawing of him, not really the best portrayal but he was still handsome and cool. There were also some other warlords there, most of them he knew and were in Azuchi, others were his enemies.

He kept reading his part of the magazine, finding some of the facts there funny. He started to see which ones were right and which ones were wrong. In a way, he felt so much more cocky about this, he must be so famous in the future!

When you arrived, he teased you about carrying a book about him. Questions such as “You love me so much that you carry that book around?” Or “Were you already in love with me even before we met, kitten?”

Still, he was happy that he didn’t disappear in history.

Mitsuhide Akechi.

It was his duty to investigate you to see if you were trustworthy. It is canon in his route that he checked your purse and saw the contents of it, even the magazine! Though, he doesn’t say anything about it, probably because he was confused at first. But knowing that you are from the future explained it to him.

Honestly, he didn’t really read what the magazine said. It was just to strange. But one day, his curiosity about the book hit it, and he decided to read more about it. He first read about the others warlords, laughing at some of the facts, findings others very useful. Then, he read about himself.

It wasn’t really a surprise, to be seen as the traitor of Japan’s history. That was the image he wished to pass, and he didn’t care if mud was thrown at his name. But what truly did surprise him was that fact that the magazine actually considered the fact the Mitsuhide wasn’t the traitor in history. In a way, he felt like the people from the future were more thoughtful, to consider such a thing as a possibility. Is that why you were just the way you are?

Caring, always try hard to understand other people. He smiled, a sincere one this time. He read all of the facts in that magazine. Some were about his treason, others were simple facts. He felt happy to see other things that aren’t related to his betrayal. That night, he talked to you, and you said that to you, he wasn’t a traitor, but a hero.

Uesugi-Takeda forces.

Kenshin Uesugi.

This will happen some time after you two got together. You had brought your things to Kasugayama Castle. It wasn’t much, it was just some clothes and your bag. Kenshin had learned little by little to respect your privacy, even if he just want to be with you at all times.

But he never really saw your things in that strange bag you had, and although the future wasn’t interesting to him, you were! And that’s all that matters to him.

He started to see the contents of it, not really seeing anything that caught his attention. Until he saw that colorful magazine with a strange touch to it, is this the kind of paper they have in the future? He wondered. It didn’t seem good to write on it or practical, but there were letters on it, they must have their way.

He started to read it, not getting pleased by what was there. You had a book that talked about other warlords? He was getting very jealous. Most of all these warlords he knew, had fought or had a alliance, like Shingen. But he wasn’t interested in reading any of the facts that was in there. That, until he reached his page. Oh Boy was he interested now! He read everything in that part of the magazine, twice. Some of the facts there were wrong, or even absurd, such as the theory that he is actually a woman. Others were accurate, Kenshin concluded that the future had poor knowledge about him, how frustrating.

When he saw you, he talked about it with you, “that strange book was filled with other men and lies, stay with me for the whole day and let me show you who I really am.”

◹◸◹◸◹◸◹◸◹◸◹◸◹◸◹◸◹◸◹◸◹◸◹◸◹◸◹◸◹◸◹◸◹◸

Thank you for reading! If you want to see more of my work, look at my masterlist!