#odd cover choices but still very exciting to see

[thequeendomeffect-noah]

UM, HELLO?????

SUPER SWING Hana and Danielle is now alt. Seymour too???

[nana-au]

Best Friends Know Best

Suguru Geto ♡

MDNI

₊˚ପ⊹ Summary: Your trip to the mall stresses Suguru out, so you treat him to some head when you two get home.

₊˚ପ⊹ Warnings: possessiveness, praising, immodest clothes in public, toxic ideology from geto, oral m! receiving, slight slut shaming, throat fucking, dirty talking (did i miss anything.. lol)

₊˚ପ⊹ an: this is sorta an extension off of my fic Best Friends Forever! (also sorry for not posting in a while i’m working on longer fics while also struggling to keep up with life lol)

₊˚ପ⊹ wc: 1.8k

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

He doesn't really understand why you insist on dressing up to go to the mall. You were there to buy new clothes, does it matter what you have on? Typically he would never complain about your fashion choices – You look darling in your girly little outfits. 

But today? He cursed himself for not making you change while he still had the chance. He didn't want to be cruel, you were so excited to wear your new dress. It was a pink gingham number – it was so you. What he didn't like was how your chest spilled out of the low neckline and how anytime you shifted in just the right way your sheer panties were on display. He wanted to cry upon noticing how see-through your panties were – there was no mistaking the outline of your plump cheeks. Did you not know how many creeps there were in this world? Did he protect you so well that you were blissfully unaware of the dangers of looking this good? Tempting any man that is so fortunate to breathe the same air as you. 

All throughout the day Geto followed closely behind you, shielding what he could of your body while trying not to make it obvious. You didn’t really notice what he had been doing until his hand reached to cover your chest from the employee at your check-out lane when you bent over; looking at the cute bracelets set up on the counter in front of you. You slowly stood up straight, giving him an odd look as he pocketed his credit card and grabbed your bag of items from the clerk. “What was that about?” you asked him while walking out of the store. 

“Nothing baby,” he said from close behind you, your multiple bags in his arms, “Let’s go get you a latte.”

“Ooo that sounds good,” you mused, daydreaming which flavor syrup you wanted before you quickly snapped out of it, “Don’t change the subject! Why did you cover my chest? Is it really that noticeable?” You ask, looking down to see your cleavage spilling out the top of your dress. “It’s not that bad…” An exasperated sigh left his lips, seemingly exhausted by spending the whole day trying to keep you modest. “Geto? Does my dress upset you?” you stopped in the middle of the mall, turning around to meet his dead eyes. Your brows furrowed, noticing just how tense Geto was compared to when you first arrived. “Do you not like my dress?” your voice is drenched in worry.

“No baby, your dress is very pretty,” he meant it, your dress looked amazing on you. But that was just the problem he was having. “You look good… Just a little too good, y’know?” he forced a chuckle, trying to convince you that he was less upset than he really was. The two of you had been there for three hours, and for three hours he was at war with every guy’s wandering eyes. He had endured three hours of men checking you out, some were so indiscreet about it that the handles of your shopping bags were barely managing to keep the straps under his tight grasp. “Let’s get you a drink and head home, hmm?” he said, pulling together all of his energy to sound fine.

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

Even after a couple of hours went by at your shared place, Suguru still looked as wound up as he did at the mall. He sat on the couch, drinking a beer and staring at the show on the tv, obviously not really watching it. His grip on the beer bottle was loose, only sipping it when he remembered it was in his hand. 

You grew more and more worried as time passed. You lost the outfit as soon as you got home, opting for pajama shorts and a long sleeved shirt – hoping that he would forget about whatever issue he had with your dress if he no longer had to look at it. That didn’t seem to be the case. 

“Sugu?” you barely said above a whisper, “Is everything okay?” he only hummed at you, not taking his eyes off the screen. “Do you want to talk about it?” you meekly asked. His head shook while he took another lazy sip of his beer. You bit your lip in thought, taking in his still tensed figure that leaned back into the couch. He never changed out of his jeans and black tee, opting to prioritize drinking over unwinding for the day in his usual sweatpants attire. An idea came to you while your eyes trailed his figure, and you hesitated before speaking. “Do you want your cock in my mouth, Suguru?”

He nearly choked on his beer hearing your words, turning to see your face. You looked desperate to hear his response, so eager to hear you can please him. “Of course,” was his response to you, he could never turn that down. You crawled down from the couch and placed yourself between his legs. He sat up, moving to the edge to make it easier for you to reach. He pitched a tent almost immediately seeing you between his thighs. You began to undo his belt, working slowly as he watched with bated breath. 

“Will this be a good apology, Sugu?” your doe eyes met his and you can see him melt at your words. He takes his bottom lip between his teeth, waiting patiently as you pull down his zipper. He lifts his hips off the couch, helping you slide his pants all the way off. You rub his cock over his briefs, slowly stroking it and watching the fabric grow a wet patch. You decide it best not to tease for too long, so you pull his cock out and run your thumb across his wet tip. 

“F-fuck,” he sighed, his hips following you as you began to stroke his cock. You twisted your wrist as you slid your hand up his length, teasing the head with your thumb each time you reached the top. He watched you behind his lidded eyes, waiting to feel the warmth of your throat. He dropped his beer onto the end table, preferring to stroke your hair as your wet tongue reached out to lick a fat stripe from the base of his cock to the tip. He groaned at the feeling, leaning back as your mouth finally took him in. You started slow, only taking him halfway and stroking the half that was left out with your hand. It wasn’t long before Suguru started his usual dirty talk that made you squirm. “You feel so good, princess,” he grunted, “This is what I deserved after a long day of putting up with you, hmm?” His hips bucked up, his tip hitting the roof of your mouth. “Having to keep you safe because you wanted to dress like a slut,” his other hand reached down to pull up his shirt, exposing his toned stomach that flexed every time you showed his tip extra attention. You licked the slit, pulling back just to spit all over it and using your hand to guide the lubricant down. He shuddered as you took more of him into your mouth, massaging his length with your tongue as his tip neared further down your throat. “Just couldn’t help showing yourself off,” he let loose his frustrations while his dick was stuffed in your mouth, preventing you from talking back. “Gotta suck my cock to make it up to me, princess,” he snickered. “You’ll do a good job? Hmm? Take me all the way?” it was your turn to react to the pleasure he was giving you. The way he talked to you always riled you up, his words always going straight to your clit. You shifted on your knees, desperately trying to give yourself any form of relief. As if he knew, his foot reached out for you and you took it, rubbing your clit shamelessly against the spot where his ankle and foot met. He laughed darkly at you, completely in awe as he watched you hump his foot while you drooled around his cock. “Look at you baby,” he purred at you, “Getting off to sucking my cock…” his Adam apple bobbed in his throat while he tried to collect himself before he came too soon. Your tight shorts were already growing wet as you rutted into him, sucking him even more feverishly. You took all of him, your eyes watering at the heavy feeling against your tongue and in your throat. “Fuck your throat feels so good. S’warm and wet,” he was moaning now, not capable of keeping it back anymore. “Almost as good as your little pussy… too bad she doesn’t deserve my cock right now…” you whined at his words, causing you to gag against his cock. You pulled back, coughing and wiping the tears from your eyes. “Am I too big for you, princess? Can’t take it?” he teased and you shook your head, readying yourself to go back down. Instead he guides you back, standing up and pulling his briefs completely off. “Gonna fuck your mouth, okay?” he asks you and you nod, moving in to take him back in your mouth. As soon as his tip hits your tongue he is pushing himself all the way in, gripping your hair and shoving his cock down your throat at a brutal pace. You feel his trimmed hair tickle your nose with each thrust of his hips. Your cheeks were covered in tears and drool seeped from your lips and onto your chin. “You’re so good t’me,” he moaned out, throwing his head back as he used your throat. His hips stuttered and you felt his dick twitch in your throat, you could tell he was close. “You’re gonna swallow it all… else you’re gonna have to try again until you get it right. Fuckkk, can’t waste a drop,” you dug your nails into his thighs, waiting eagerly for him to reach his peak. Eager to taste his salty cum. 

When he finally came you did as you were told, cleaning up anything that spilled out with your fingers, before popping it back into your mouth. “Such a good girl,” he murmured to you, smoothing out the hair he roughed up previously. “So beautiful,” his dark eyes showed nothing but adoration for you, kissing your forehead as he spoke, “A little too beautiful…”

[sideysvault]

𓍼ོ Ad Astra Per Aspera 𓍼ོ (PT. 1)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

wc: 2,200k

Tags: [sfw] Arranged marriage, mature themes, angst, coldness, enemies to lovers, eventual fluff and smut.

Full Series masterlist here.

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“Are you disappointed with the results of the arrangement?” Still not very well versed on the frail subtleties needed for a cordial marriage, the woman frowned. It if sounded sincere, she might have answered honestly. Because even her, when she was a child, had dreamt of romantic affections, great tales of familial love, mutual servitude and joy.

But the Prince’s voice told a tale of practiced self deprecation. She wasn’t yet sure if it was to appear disarmingly inadequate, easier to ignore, or if it was to appease the King’s fragile ego. Either way, acting was not one of the Prince’s best qualities. Underneath all the loathing, layed a poorly covered, insidious egotism. He felt pride in fulfilling his inglorious role, pride of being an outcast, he clearly thought of himself as above it all: superstitions of the weak minded, sentimentality, the passionate side of politics. She could already feel herself getting sick of it all.

“Forgive me, Your Grace, but you must not go beyond the walls of the Red Keep often” Although she knew he did, as the stories of the sad little boy he turned to when attending the brothel could be heard from the mouth of the King himself. “The Gods are rarely in the mood for protection, and so common men are never left whole. The queerest thing about your appearance is not your limb eye, but rather your ghostly hair” with a smirk forming without her being able to avoid it, she quickly added “A haunting omen, perhaps.”

Aemond hated the petulant smile that appeared on his wife’s lips. He hated seeing her biting teeth, and her self proclaimed waking martyrdom. And the wisdomless lectures? A sickening symptom of barbarian vanity. The Prince felt scandalized. He considered himself a sensible person, able to rationalize the marital arrangement, a paragon of respectability and patience. Her attitude had a way of putting it all on a thin veil.

She felt troubled by the marriage, yes, but at night, when she could see the maidens avoid the wing of the castle where the King rested, when the Maestres ran around with mysterious teas, she felt the urge to get on her knees and thank the lords for granting her the repressed brother. Boring, tedious, and insolently over confident. But much more honorable.

They had to consummate the marriage, of course. That was a problem that was increasingly harder to ignore. He had been kind enough to not force it upon her, and the Princess had heard stories of insemination without touch. When the bride was to be young of age, the husband —If he was respectable enough to have a soul—would set his seed on a vase of sorts, which would be introduced into the girl manually, by a maiden of choice. She heard it was rarely successful, but protective parents could demand the practice.

She was too old for those considerations, but what was one to do?

Prince Aemond was handsome, painfully so. If you ignored his impatience for the incompetence of his brother, or for his mother's hidden sentimentalism, his horror towards failure, the frowns he gave at any suggestion of true romantic felicity, and the egomaniac tendencies, he could look quite handsome.

During courtship, he completely ignored his wife to be, but that is to be expected in political betrothal. Back then, he slightly frightened the Princess, but not nearly enough as everyone assumes he should have.

The residents of Kings Landing often find him rather physically odd. Why is that? If, after all, he looks like a proper Targaryen Prince, even with one functioning eye. His childhood wound could not deny his straight silver hair, or the blue in his calculating eyes. His features were delicate, sharp, and firm, with an obnoxious royal quality. And if she knew no better, she would be excited at the prospect of consummation.

Now the Princess’s dreams did not consist of domestic life —Although, she naturally still felt the urge, on rare occasions— But of going beyond the realms of her condition. A mind that kept itself occupied with thoughts of what may have become of her with less social opposition and more personal stimulus. Dreaming of being born a man, of being a scholar, a Maestre, to finally visit The Citadel.

Another recurring hope was that even in between the most interrelated webs of inherited resentments and southeastern superstitions one may find peace and harmony. To make the Red Keep a home worth living in. But all of these desires seemed to be equally improbable, and she had begun to come to terms with the fact that the burning desire of childhood may never go away, but it must be ignored in order to survive.

Learning to her was similar to a holy grace, far more powerful than any priest or God. A beautiful distraction. That’s how she had fallen into the hands of a false religious conversion. The teachings of the Seven had no real impact or meaning to her, but it was the closest, most respectable way of learning about the world around her.

The marital chambers were spotless, in an almost obsessive manner. It went far beyond the traditional efficiency of cleaning servants. It had been done by his own hand, and everything had a designated place. And at the beginning, it had been nerve wrecking. The constant worry of leaving everything in its place, of being too messy with her presence, with her own belongings, on her own chambers.

The only thing that demanded attention in the sad sterile room was the extensive library. It filled the space with character of its own, the books rebelling against their masters' particularities and demanding a disorderly presence of their own right. His private library exploited the fragility of her wife’s curious mind and predisposition for literature.

After years of espiritual resignation, it was like a breeze of fresh air. She would be the first to admit the only sin she had committed against her husband —Besides being a republican, which was a shameful secret of hers—: To sneak and borrow books from his private delectable collection. A stupid, brash decision. Especially considering Aemond's serious disposition and angsty, hostile character. But the Princess couldn't help herself when she saw the chambers unattended. Rationalizing the invasion of privacy, because they were now married, for better or for worse, those books were inside their marital chambers.

Prince Aemond knew of his wife’s intrusion, of course. When she came back to return the innocent theft, she realized with horror that he had left a single stone where the book she had taken was. Feeling partially offended by the gesture, she had returned the volume to its place and accommodated the fatal stone on the left side of his bureau, near the candle.

It became a routine. The wife would take a book from his collection, and he would place the rock marking the missing spot. Whenever she finished her reading, she was to accommodate the stone at the left of the candle in his bureau. A childish game, perhaps. But it was the most similar thing they had to a sense of cordiality and shared duality. Everything else remained as sterile as before, when either party tried to approach the other, they were quickly reminded of how repelled they felt towards the others flaws, perceived or not.

It did exhaust her a good deal, the uncertainty of the marriage. Having to be sly and poise about how she managed herself, or to be met with heavy words of disapproval. Targaryen folk, seemingly closer to Gods than to men, were not to be played with, even if you were a wife to one of them.

Another cause of exhaustion and histeria was one much more primal. She dreaded the day he finally came to claim his bride's virtue. It was not about discomfort with marital relations, but rather a feeling of vulnerability. Having to be at his mercy, his whim, it was the fact that she hadto wait until the night his patient character faltered.

There was also the matter of Larys Strong, of course. The King was like a brute, to focused on his next rush to have any sense of planning or concerned for the politics of consummation. The Dowager Queen was the one who pushed his limits when needed, and she seemingly had Larys Strong at his mercy, or the other way around, of that, the Princess was not entirely sure yet.

Sir Strong loved not the Gods or the Crown but himself and the thrill of keeping people hostage by the bondadge of secrets. He enjoyed parading around the corners, lurking, observing. He liked the authority that the Crown granted him, the preposterous work of secrecy. He translated the King’s rule into language than sounded vaguely religious, vaguely patriotic. Only to whisper it to the ears of maidens and servants.

It may have been paranoia, but the Princess could have sworn that the maidens took special care into looking for any red spots on the marital sheets. The Dowager Queen had been paying more attention to her, with that stern frown of hers. Real or imagined, it was dangerous to wait this long.

Tired of the whole ordeal, she decided that the occurrence was unavoidable, and at a reasonable cost of her sexual condition if anything, she could end the anxiety and the whispered chastity by taking some kind of agency and doing the first step.

The Princess soaked in rose water the scented brazil wood chips her mother had prepared her with. Using them to brightly paint her cheeks, nipples, and lips with an irresistible shade of contrast, and leaving her hair messy, determined to look desirable enough for it to be done tonight.

If the Prince was surprised to see her laying in bed, naked, when he walked into the chambers, he did not show proof of it on his face. The husband quickly took off his clothes, as well. He looked tired, even under the dim, warm yellow lights of the room. She smiled upon the view, a signal of relief, upon anything else. For the first time in weeks, her husband did not seem troubled and upset, only tired. The consummation might end quickly and without any fuss.

As soon as he laid on the sheets, she got up from the side of the bed that corresponded to her, and straddled the Prince. She wasn’t sure of what he may like, but she figured this was the safest and less degrading way to go about the night. She felt her nipples harden against the cold nightly wind, and she could also feel her husband's length hardened underneath her. Without any regard for her feelings, her core began to leak in anticipation. In that moment, she thanked the Gods for a handsome husband, and she thanked them for making him a contemporary in age. This wasn’t going to be as difficult as she initially thought.

For a moment, his eye seemed to shine with something similar to the spark of lust. Just for a moment.

It was gone almost as soon as she had noticed it. And with a soft but recognizably firm move, he got her off him.

“There is no use for it. We don’t carry the duty to fulfill the royal lineage” The Prince sounded cold, and spoke in a manner similar to how one explains a simple concept to a child. It scandalized her. Had he had no consideration at all for her safety? Was he blind to the watchful eyes of the maids? Was he not a man, or is it that you were insufficient in his eyes?

And if the offense wasn’t enough to hurt the Princess, he unknowingly added another striking statement, just for good measure “They are also an emotional lability. One that mustn’t be created recklessly taken in times of war”

Her heart seemed to sink in the depths of her stomach. The humiliation, sparked by anger washed over her head and burned her cheeks with an unbearable warmt. Without saying a word and trying to contain the tears that this robbery of agency had caused, she left the marital chambers.

Another brash, emotionally driven decision. A misjudgment, letting go of the calculating measure of taking care of what the court might think. The Princess needed a break from the claustrophobic room, from its cleaning, from her Husband’s cold offenses. How can he speak of children so callously? She had thought of her husband as a devout family member. Even the monster they had for the King loved his children. The Princess wasn’t particularly fond of the idea of forming a family in an arranged marriage, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that her husband was rejecting her lineage and the single act of agency that she was truly permitted:The possibility of making happiness of her own, of raising her own. Feeling rudely rejected, and more lonely than ever before, she compulsively walked into the messy physis of the garden. Tears fell on her cheeks, and went down into her neck, she had no family, no friend, no kin to confide to. For the first time since her arrival, she felt the honesty of her situation falling from her tears.

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Notes: Omg the first part of the first long form series that i have ever conceived 😭😭 if anyone is interested in proofreading or if you see any mistakes please let me know! English is not my first language and I always make so many mistakes. Take care of one another!

— Sidey xxo

[ohthethingswedoforlove]

Warnings: yandere character; scopophobia; a whole lot of fear/paranoia being described;

  Yandere!Wally Darling, in which you find an old collection of VHS tapes and are able to communicate with the characters in the show. Or, at least, one of characters in the show.

  When you found those tapes out in the wild, in someone's garage sale or a dingy little shop full of dead stock of years passed, you almost felt pulled in by the colorful little world depicted on the sleeve keeping the VHS' together.

  Maybe you have some vague, blurry memories of watching the show as a child, or maybe you are simply a collector of these kinds of things. Maybe you even heard about a certain restoration project involving the likeness of this world and characters, fully aware you had just stumbled upon something very exciting.

  So you decide to pay the small price written on the paper sticker and bring it home with you. 

  It doesn't take many online searches to understand exactly how rare of a find you now have in your possession, all that has ever been recovered from the old obscure show being images and corrupted audio tracks, some merch and a puppet or two. Never full episodes, not even snippets of footage. Aren't you lucky?

  You consider sending it to the team of the restoration project, but curiosity got the better of you before that choice could fully take shape. How could you not? You just had to see it for yourself.

  When you finally arrange the means to play the first VHS out of the collection you bought, you couldn't help but notice the odd black stains covering the tape, barely noticeable beforehand as it nearly blended with the color of the plastic. You half-heartedly try to clean it, but with the persistence of the stain and your growing impatience, you end up simply shoving it inside the VCR player, giving up. 

  Marking your first mistake as you miss the way the stain quickly grew and infected the sleeve of the tapes and the hem of your shirt with the same sunken dark.

  The screen flickers and you're cheerfully greeted with what you would expect from a children's show of that era, all bright colors, silly eccentric characters and possible life lessons. Quiet and intrigued, you watch as a day in the neighbourhood plays out before you.

  Until the episode introduces you to Wally Darling himself, your supposed new best friend. He monologues a bit about the premise of the episode, always acting as if having a conversation with you, the audience, directly. That by itself didn't give you much pause, you know it's common for shows like this to treat the audience as their own character.

  But then he asks you for your name.

  You assume it's supposed to have a short quiet moment, to give the kids at home the illusion that the characters are listening and waiting for their answer, but it starts to drag out for a really long time. Longer than it should.

  Af if he was actually waiting for your answer.

  Some possibilities rush through your mind. Is the cassette faulty? It didn't show any signs of it aside from those weird stains, and the footage itself didn't appear to be tampered with, certain elements of the world behind Wally are still moving, as if that pause is indeed intentional.

  The entire time you couldn't bring yourself to tear your eyes away from the puppet, his gaze not even flinching for a second away from you.

  You finally say your name out loud, as if giving up under some sort of pressure, even if you immediately felt silly for doing it. It's not like he's going to-

  "What a wonderful name. I'm sure we'll be the best of friends. Ha. Ha. Ha."

  The rest of the episode continues to play similarly, with it going along as you'd expect, only to pause for excruciatingly long times anytime Wally would direct a question to you. Even when other characters did their own bits, their moments of quiet would last but a few seconds, not aware of when or what you might be saying to your TV.

  But not Wally. He diligently waits for your response, even as everything and everyone around him keeps moving without him and they start to question why he's just standing there. Staring. Unresponsive to the activities they're trying to involve him with.

  And his responses seem weirdly... appropriate to what you're saying. Frank didn't react to your displeased expression to being told that bugs are friends, Julie didn't actually guess your favorite game, but Wally... 

  He repeated back what you said your favorite color was, adding that it's one of his favorites, too. He only joined in on the game that Julie suggested once you agreed that you'd like to play as well. He has to make sure his friend is having fun, afterall. You find yourself wondering if the way he's constantly smiling is by the design of his puppet or if it's somehow a conscious choice.

  It's like you're transfixed, almost hypnotised by what you're watching. Fascination keeping your eyes glued to the screen, even as a part of you is practically screaming that something's wrong. You're being watched as much as you're the one watching.

  Your breaking point finally reaches at the end of the episode. Wally makes his way back to Home after the misadventures of the day, and the house greets him, in creeks and onomatopoeias, with eyes for windows that make you just as uneasy as Wally's. The door opens for him for the both of you? to enter. And it's dark. So impossibly dark, in a way that feels unnatural and alive. Like a creature patiently waiting for you to place yourself in its jaws.

  And you finally snap out of it, rushing to turn off your TV in an action so abrupt and panicked it felt like fight or flight.

  You barely sleep that night. 

  Stuck in between a state of awake and asleep, constantly being brought in and out of a dream you can't seem to fully grasp. Until you're shaken completely wake by loud noises coming from your living room. From your TV.

  It had, somehow, flickered to life as if by its own volition, replaying the tape all over from the start as a now familiar audio plays out. You stumble your way through your house in a half-wake disoriented panic, and once again coming to face... Him. 

  There he was again, Wally patiently waiting for you, the tape stuck at the segment where he would ask a question to the audience and wait. His eyes bearing into you, you stood frozen at the doorway as he stared unflinching back at you. Has your living room always looked this dark? Engulfed, consumed by it?

  Fear takes over your actions again as you fidget with the VCR, this time with the intention of ripping the tape out of it, caring little of the state it would be left in by doing so. You only started to feel some semblance of relief once you disconnected all of the TV cables and rushed to turn on the light.

  After that night, you didn't even dare watch the rest, throwing the tapes in a plastic bag you left in a corner of your room, hoping it had all been some weird dream fueled by the exhaustion and stress of your everyday life. 

  But it never left you. He never left you.

  You keep having strange dreams, dreams where you are the new resident of a bright, colorful neighbourhood. Dreams where you are so warmly welcomed by kind neighbours, new friends who would like you to join them! And him as well, always so strangely quiet compared to the others but so fixated on you.

  The thought of getting rid of the tapes consumes your mind, but you just can't bring yourself to do it. You can't. You can't.

  You can't. 

  And you watch as the dark that once only stained the tapes now grows and festers in your floor, your furniture, creating a stain seemingly deeper than the wall itself.

  You swear you start to see him as well, in the dark. You're growing oh so familiar with those eyes.

  Wally doesn't understand why you look so scared. He just wants to be your friend. You two could have so much fun in the neighbourhood, together! He's sure that the others would agree too.

  Why are you being so difficult? He knows you can hear him. See him. He can see you too.

  You just have to let him in.

[theetherealbloom]

UNEVEN ODDS — CH. 1

Chapter One: These Questions Take Shape

Summary: The Reader is dragged into the Last of Us universe and has no choice but to watch the events unfold live in front of her or will she be able to change what was already written?

Paring: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 6.1k

Warnings: Age-gap Romance, Violence, PTSD, Depression, Zombies, character death, swearing, angst, fluff, eventual SMUT, MY SCIENCE MIGHT BE WRONG, plot holes, rusty writing, alternate universe

A/N: I write?? Kind of?? Tbh, this self-indulgent for sure! We love maladaptive daydreaming :) Anyways, English isn’t my first language so please forgive me for any grammatical errors or spelling mistakes! Tbh I was just gonna write one chapter per episode but I got too excited :p 

Song: doomsday by Lizzy McAlpine

-> Next Chapter | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

YOUR OBSERVABLE UNIVERSE – 2023

It’s been three years since the pandemic, COVID-19 has taken a toll on many people. Millions have died over the past few years and you were one of the lucky ones who got by, survived, and received the vaccine as soon it was available. The world slowly begins to open up and awake from its slumber during those years of uncertainty.

So what do you do now?

You work, continue with your quantum physics research and try and make sense of your life. Someday you’ll be able to be under the mercy of light to choose your fate and your need to find certainties and concrete science. For now, you enjoy the comforting sounds of characters conversing with each other.

Immediately as the show credits show, you fold your laptop close and prepare for bed. Episode 3 of the Last of Us was the most emotional so far, Bill and Frank’s story reminds you that love will transverse in every universe. With these tired eyes, you’ve seen enough for tonight. Your eyes slowly droop down and close, luring you into a deep sleep in a state of wishful thinking, hoping that you would have that kind of love in your life. But for now, the watercolor vivid dreams will suffice.

TLOU WORLD – 2023

You groggily wake up and find yourself on the floor. Slowly as you sit up, you use one of your hands to rub away the sleep, “What the hell,” you mumble. The anxiety begins to creep in, you recognize the coloring of the walls and the type of flooring used.

You look down at yourself to check what you’re wearing, no longer in your sleep clothes but traded away for cargo pants, a shirt, socks, and black boots. What’s more concerning was the familiar voices just outside the tattered room you were in.

“There’s not gonna be anything bad in here?”

A gruff response comes, “Just you.”

“Oh, funny.”

No. God, no way. This is not happening. This isn’t possible. You must be dreaming, right? You quickly stand up, and as soft footsteps come closer, you see Ellie staring at you with complete shock, “Holy shit!” she screams.

The thundering thumps of footsteps quickly make their way into the room as you stand there in complete shock. Your eyes widen in shock as you are now face to face with the characters you’ve grown to love from last night through your laptop screen right in front of you. This feels like a very cruel joke.

Dark brown eyes, salt and pepper hair, tan skin, and lines that appear as Joel frowns at you, unimpressed and suspicious. While Tess is completely covering Ellie, she narrows her eyes at you and says, “Raise your hands.”

Slowly you follow her command and raise both your hands, not wanting to increase the tension between you and them. Then you try your best to steady the trembling voice that wants to escape from you and directly look at Joel to say, “I’m not infected.”

“Show us your arm and neck.” He replies with his thick southern accent, and you bring your hand to the collar of your shirt to show them your neck and then lift the sleeves of your jacket to prove that you are being truthful.

The tension between the four of you still hadn’t dissipated despite proving that you didn’t have Cordyceps. “You got any weapons?” Tess asks and you shake your head, “No.”

Ellie groans in frustration, “Guys, I need to pee.” And you bite back a smile, her attitude, and unintentional humor. You clear your throat and say, “Um, you two could interrogate me in the other room so she can, uh, relieve herself.”

Ellie’s two protectors give each other a knowing side glance and proceed to lower their weapons that were aimed at you. You take a deep breath and then follow Joel as he first leaves the room while Tess watches and follows you from behind, making sure you don’t try anything funny.

You stand in the center of the room, with lush green grass, and flowers,  you tilt your head up to look at the stream of daylight hitting your face. You take note of the overgrown plants and trees, mother nature taking back what’s hers. Eco-brutalists would be ecstatic about all of this, minus the fungi zombies.

Tess breaks the silence and asks, “What’s your name?” You give them your name and ask for theirs, even though you didn’t need to however, it is the polite and fair thing to do. You turn your head to look at both of them. They reluctantly tell you to give them their names as you try and manage to swallow away the fear and secretly hope this was all a dream or maybe a fucked up prank. Tess raises one eyebrow at you, “Where are you from?”

You purse your lips to a thin line and wonder how the hell you were gonna answer that question, you then settle for a, “It’s complicated.”

“Complicated how?” Joel gruffly asks you and you give him a light shrug in response and he scoffs.

Your shoulders sag at his reaction to your words, “I’m not trying to be difficult, I swear.  It is complicated and hard to explain, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you. And to be honest, I’m trying my best to wrap my head around this and find a way to explain it without sounding completely insane.”

Joel all but frowns at you but continues to ask, “You tryin’ to get to the QZ?” And without even thinking about it you shook your head in disagreement, and immediately followed your response with suspicion growing on their faces and a frown.

Tess looks at you in disbelief and says, “So, what the hell are you doing out in the city with all the infected running around? Going for a stroll?”

Not wanting to answer the question, you pivot to looking at his fractured hand and give him a light nod, gesturing to it, “Does it hurt?”

Tess glances at his hand and pushes Joel to sit on his chair, his hands shaking as he looks at his bloody knuckles. You also choose to sit on the plush cool green grass, the smell of earth fills your nostrils, and then watch the scene play out in front of you.

“Broken.” Tess states that Joel avoids eye contact with his partner in crime, “Maybe a hairline. It’ll heal fast.”

Tess looks down at the grimy floor and folded her hands in an attempt to calm herself, then raises her head as she whispers, “She made it through the fucking night, Joel.” He shakes his head at her, “It doesn’t matter. It’s gonna happen sooner or later. All right? We’re still close to the wall. We sneak both of them back into the QZ. We find a different way to get the battery.”

“This is our best shot,” Tess says unwaveringly with her decision while Joel scoffs, you watch them both like a tennis match and are surprised by the fact they didn’t even acknowledge your presence.  

“We take her back into the QZ, someone’s gonna notice her arm. They’re gonna scan her then they’ll kill her.”

He harshly whispers back at Tess, “Well, better them than us. You need to stop talking about this kid like she’s got some kind of life in front of her.”

It felt like extreme deja vu watching Joel and Tess argue, and on queue, Ellie walks back in and throws the magazine on the floor, and slides towards Tess. The kid plops down to sit next to you on the lush grass and you look at her with a small smile.

“You hungry?” Tess asks the both of you as she rummages through her backpack to find the energy bars, “You can share some of ours.”

“Thanks. Marlene sent me with my own.” Ellie says and takes out a chicken sandwich from her bag pocket. Tess looks at you, offering some and you politely decline, the older woman tilts her head and says, “When was the last time you ate?”

“Yesterday.” You say without a thought.

“You wanna try to explain’ how you got here? Cause when we checked, you sure as hell weren’t here. Or how the fuck did you manage to survive this long with nothing?” Tess says as she chews on the bark this world now calls food. You feel your palms sweat and pulse slightly increase, you take a deep breath and say, “This is gonna sound extremely bazaar and completely impossible but try to keep an open mind because literal infected are roaming around the streets so believe anything is now within the realm of possibility. Okay?”

You got a couple of hums with curious gazes and listened as you began to speak, “I’m possibly from a different universe or world where this is all just fiction and you’re characters based on a video game-made television series. No, I have zero ideas how I got here. I went to bed and fell asleep, and next thing I know, I woke up with this painful migraine and fatigue, different clothes and you three suddenly existing.”

You paused as you took in the group gaping at you and you sigh, “From where I came from, we had a similar thing happen, a pandemic. However, it was a virus, not Cordyceps. We called it COVID-19, it could be transmitted through an infected person's mouth or nose in small liquid particles when they cough, sneeze, speak or breathe. The outbreak started in December 2019 and 6.84 million people died in the last three years during that time. We were able to make a vaccine at a rapid rate since our technology had advanced, and we were able to distribute it globally, so in the current year which we both share, which is 2023, we’re slowly trying to find our footing again as the world opens up.”

You feel your eyes glaze over, and you then shut them as you continued, “I know it sounds fucking impossible, trust me, a lot thought so too. My scientific hypothesis is that the multiverse does exist and somehow sleep or dreaming is connected to it. I really don’t know, it was all just theoretical.”

“Prove it.”

You open your eyes and look at Joel, completely surprised he spoke, “What?”

Joel’s baritone voice and defensive stare felt like electricity through your bones, “I said, prove it.”

If there’s anything you were good at, it was reading a ton of books in a short period and memorizing the important details and plot points. Visual memory paired with the love you had for these characters had you rewatching the three episodes over and over again. Quietly, you thank the younger you for being so nerdy.

You look Joel dead in the eye and turn to the kid beside you quietly looking at you while eating her sandwich, “Your name is Ellie, you got bitten by an infected while you snuck into the mall and then Marlene found you soon afterward. Those two,” you point your thumb in their direction, “need to get you to the state house in exchange for a battery so they can go find Tommy who has been missing for almost a month.”

“Holy shit. She knows my name.” Ellie said with her mouth full of her food.

You turn back to look at Joel and Tess, and then glance at his broken wristwatch, “And, um, Joel, I know how your watch broke, I’m so– .”

“Stop.” Joel lowly says, his stare as cold as ice and distrusting of you. You avert your gaze, and a blanket of silence covers the room. Shakily Joel eats his bark of food and Tess stares at you and Ellie as she chews and swallows, “Is that chicken?”

“Yup. Marlene said they get it from smugglers.” Ellie then thoughtfully tilts her head, “Guess not you guys.”

That does it for Tess and stands up to walk towards you and the kid, “Hey, hey!” Joel says as he stands up after her but Tess holds her hand out to stop him and to signal it’s fine, “Why are you so important to Marlene? And don’t lie to me, or we’ll take you back.”

“Like she said,” the kid gestures to you, “If you take me back, you don’t get your battery.” Tess scoffs, “You heard that?” and Ellie shrugs at her, the older woman mock laughs, “Then you must’ve heard he wants to shoot you.”

Ellie looks toward Joel and he doesn’t deny it, he simply stares back at her.

“If you do that, it would be the dumbest shit you’ll ever do.” You mumble while frowning, Tess turns to you and harshly says, “Zip it, this doesn’t concern you.” And you take what she said in stride and don’t push it any further.

She then crouches down to talk to Ellie, “I’m gonna talk to you like you’re an adult. Okay?” She then takes Ellie’s silence as consent to continue, “Joel and I aren’t good people. We’re doing this for us because apparently, you’re worth something. But we don’t know what you’re worth if we don’t know what we have. So answer my question.”

Ellie rolls her eyes, rubs her face, and mumbles to herself, “She told me not to tell anybody and now I’m telling the first people that I…” She lets out a sigh and reluctantly speaks, “There’s a Firefly base camp somewhere out west with doctors. They’re working on a cure.”

Joel immediately groans in frustration, “I’ve heard this before.” Ellie continues, “And whatever happened to me,” and at the same time she and Joel say, “is the key to finding the vaccine.”

He sighs in exasperation, “That’s what this is? We’ve heard this a million times. Vaccines, miracle cures. None of it works. Ever.”

Ellie stands up, “Fuck you, man. I didn’t ask for this.”

“You and me both.” The grouch turns to his partner and says, “This isn’t gonna end well, Tess. We need to go back.”

You then remember after all those essays and news articles about your pandemic, the time when everything felt so hopeless and scary. You look at Joel and you see a reflection of your own, his fear and panic, “It’s possible.”

They both turn to you and you continue, “Theoretically, it’s possible to create a fungi vaccine, however, I’m not even sure you have the technology to produce it. And it would take finding out what Ellie truly is. Either Ellie’s immune system mutated and created antibodies to fight against the Cordyceps or something else… But either way, a vaccine or maybe a cure could be possible now because of her.”

Tess stands up, as do you, and looks at Ellie for a moment, then to Joel to say, “Let’s just finish it. It doesn’t matter if she is what the Fireflies or what an alien says.”

“I’m human.” You grumble and Tess ignores you, “If they believe that she is then we get what we want.”

Joel gives a glare at Ellie and then shifts his gaze to you, he sighs and shakes his head, “If she so much as twitches.”

Ellie proceeds to make gurgling noises and movements to pretend as if she’s turning into an infected. Tess turns to look at her and scolds in a motherly fashion, “Don’t.” You try and hold in your laugh and the young girl clears her throat, scratches the back of her neck, and mumbles, “Yeah… okay.”

Tess then turns to Joel, “Okay?”

Defeated, Joel swings his arms open and whispers, “Okay.”

The foreshadowing of the fact it will not be okay in the next few moments had you feeling nauseous. The churning fear begins to bubble inside of you, Tess is going to die, albeit a noble and honorable death, but it still would hurt Joel, and Ellie as she slowly grows more fond of the older woman. Then, it hit you, is it possible to change what already was written? Could you save them all? Well, you’re already here, might as well try.

The three of them begin to pack their belongings as you awkwardly stand there with your hands in your pockets and watch as they prepare for the journey to the State House. The sound of Joel picking up his gun catches Ellie’s interest, “Can I have a gun?”

“Absolutely not.”

“No.”

“Okay. Fine. Jesus. I’ll have to throw a fucking sandwich at them.” Ellie then shoves the leftover sandwich into her bag and Joel goes to the giant bookshelf, which is blocking the door, to the side, then peaks out of the door to check if it’s safe. You hear the sound of birds chirping and feel the warmth of the light flood in the abandoned building.

“It’s clear.”

Following Ellie from behind, you begin walking slowly toward the light and into the apocalyptic city. Your eyes take in the sight of tilted, destroyed, buildings, overgrown plants, trees, abandoned cars, and trucks. A hauntingly beautiful sight if you were being honest.

Ellie gasps in wonder as she takes it all in, “Woah.” Tess looks over at her and says, “Yeah, looks different in the daylight, huh?” Joel quickly scans the area, “We should get moving.” Tess begins to take the lead, followed by Ellie then you, while Joel trails from behind.

“It’s like a fucked up moon.” Ellie moves towards a crater and peers over it, “Is this where they bombed?”

“Yeah, they hit most of the big cities like this. They had to slow the spread somehow.” Tess says and Joel continues to walk past it, ignoring the crater and any kind of conversation. “Worked here, but it didn’t in most places.”

Unconsciously, you begin humming to the tune of a Linda Ronstadt song. The last song you ever heard before sleeping. Continuing up to a ruined building, with debris blocking your path, “So the State House is across there. It’s about a ten-minute walk if you could go straight.”

Ellie looks at both of them and you wonder how the fuck you were gonna defeat the clickers later on with no weapon, “So…”

“Long way or short way?” Joel asks Tess, she holds the straps of her backpack and the wind blows through her hair, “I mean, it’s a long way or the we’re-fucking-dead way.”

“Well, I vote a long way just based on that limited information,” Ellie says dryly, and Joel stares at her, a puzzled expression on his face, then his eyes lands on you, waiting for your input.

You frown at him, “No, don’t look at me like that. I’m not giving you any spoilers.” Joel clenches his jaw and turns to Tess, “We have to check it from the hotel first.” She begins to walk away, “Okay.”

You walk along the highway in somewhat comfortable silence, you carefully look to the ground and see a giraffe plushie, the symbolism doesn’t escape you, knowing all too well what it meant. Moss and different kinds of plants grow over the cracks of the road, you spot branches atop abandoned cars and dust covers the windows of each door.

Tess and Ellie begin conversing in front of the group, while you and Joel follow from a distance. You look at Joel and say, “I’m sorry if I overstepped a while ago. I couldn’t prove it unless I told you something only you knew.”

He looks at you in an emotion you can’t quite understand, but still responds in his grumpy demeanor, “Just don’t bring it up again.” You quickly nod, “Mhm, noted.”

It was quiet for a bit until, to your surprise, he asks you, “What did you do for work?” The smile was so difficult to hold back, you chuckle and raise your eyebrows, “I’m… well, was a Quantum physicist. You were a carpenter right?”

“It kinda’ freaks me out how you know that off the top of your head.” His Texan accent heavy as he spoke, you knew that it would take time to build his trust. His reserved and security-oriented nature would prove to be a challenge, but something you wholeheartedly would take on, “I’ll try not to do it as much, I’m sorry.”

“You apologize too much.”

“It’s a habit I’m trying to break, to be honest.” You chuckle nervously, putting your hands in the pockets of your cargo pants, and continue to walk, watching and hearing bits of conversation from Tess and Ellie.

“I thought you were some sort of’ performer, a singer maybe, with all that hummin’ you were doin’ awhile ago.”

That catches you off guard and you feel the confusion form on your face and you begin to feel your face feel warm, “What?” Joel continues, “You were hummin’ to Linda Ronstadt, right? Haven’t heard that song in a while.” You stared at him in complete disbelief, “You heard me humming?”

As he was about to reply, you and him managed to catch up to Ellie and Tess to overhear their conversation, “How old are you?” Ellie replies, “Fourteen.” Tess hums and smirks at the kid, “Wow. Well, I mean you got some balls on you, sister.”

“Thanks,” Ellies says and follows after Tess, climbing over the flipped rusted car. You follow their movements and Joel does too.

Tess curiously looks over her shoulder at Ellie and continues her walk forward, “Nobody is gonna come after you, right? Like Mom, Dad, boyfriend?”

“I’m an orphan, and, uh, no.” Ellie takes a look around her surroundings and lets her hand brush on the tall grass growing from the cracks of the pavement, “Everyone said the open city was crazy. Like, swarms of infected running around everywhere.”

Joel humors her, “Not exactly like that.” Tess smiles, “You know people like to tell stories.”

“So there aren’t super-infected that explode fungus spores on you?” Ellie curiously asks with a somewhat happy tone, as if all of this doesn’t scare her. Fearless is what you conclude, a trait that could be good when at its best but dangerous and reckless at its worse. “Shit, I hope not,” Tess says.

“Or ones with split-open heads that see in the dark like bats?” Ellie asks and that causes a shift in Tess, Joel, and your demeanor. Fucking clickers. And on queue, you hear the screeching of the devil’s spawn in the distance. The whole group stills and Ellie shakily asks, “What was that?”

Joel doesn’t reply, instead, he just says, “Let’s keep movin’.”

Joel pushes the doors of the hotel open, loudly shrieking as he does, and all three of you are greeted with the sight of the flooded hotel. It was almost swamp-like due to the green water, lily pads floating, and the ducks and frogs swimming.

Ellie takes a spin and looks at the view with a childlike wonder you wish you still had, “You’ve got to be kidding me! You ever stay in a place like this?” “Uh, no, a little out of our league.” Tess says and Joel looks at Ellie and asks, “How do you even know what this is?” Being the smartass that she throws him a look and says, “Have you heard of books?”

You chuckle as Joel shakes his head and walks down into the murky water, “Wait we’re going in there?” Ellie asks, and Tess nods, “Yeah, we gotta get to the stairwell on the other side.” The kid takes a step back, “Well, I don’t… I don’t know how to swim.” Joel lifts an eyebrow, “Seriously?”

“Do you think we have pools in the QZ?” Ellie says with narrowed eyes. “No, smart-ass. I mean…”, Joel does a little jump into the water, it does a small splash when he does. “I don’t know how I was supposed to know that,” Ellie says as she walks down the steps and into the water, you follow behind her and Tess.

You four wade through the green murky water, “This is so gross.” Ellie says with a huge smile on her face and you can’t help but laugh, “This is disgusting.” The fourteen-year-old spots the concierge desk and makes her way over, “Oh, check it out!”

You place both of your hands on your hips and  watch her mess with the call bell, “Ding, ding.” She begins to do her form of roleplay for her entertainment and to cure her boredom, “Yes sir. I would like your finest suite, please.”

“Yes, ma’am. Would you like me to take your luggage?”, she proceeds to answer her own question and pushes the hotel bell cart through the water, “Yes, ma’am. Right away ma’am…”

“You’re a weird kid.” Joel states, Ellie turns her head to look at him, “You’re a weird kid.” Something falls over, a sloshing sound indicating that it had fallen in front of Ellie causing her to jump back and bang the piano behind her and yelp, “Oh, fuck!”

You and Joel are quick to come to her side to see what it was. A skeleton lay there unmoving and rotten, your eyes raise to look at Ellie panting and clutching onto the hotel bell cart, “Oh, my god.” Joel kicks the skull and the kid mumbles, “Uh, sorry.”

Joel offers his hand to help Ellie back up and the sound of the honky-tonk piano creates sharp notes as she stands, Joel pulls back his hand once Ellie can manage on her own and begins to walk away.

You look to Joel, “How’s the hand?” He looks down at it as it shakes again, “It’ll heal.” Your face forms a frown and you shake your head, “That doesn’t answer my question.” Joel doesn’t respond and decides to continue and you simply follow.

“You okay?” Tess asks Ellie, and the young girl wades through the water like nothing happened, “Yep. Fucking Fabulous.”

After ten flights of stairs you finally made it to the top floor, Joel goes through the doorway first, while Tess takes a moment to catch her breath, “Fuck. Holy shit.” 

You’re a little breathless, but not as much as Tess since you were a bit younger than her. “Come on, it wasn’t that bad.” Ellie says teasingly and Tess shoots her a look, “You try climbing ten fuckin’ floors with our knees. See how you feel.”

You turn right to a hallway, to see a giant obstruction made out of the rubble, “Well, when the fuck did that happen?” Tess tries to push the door to her right, only to be blocked. You try to check the door to the left to find the same outcome, you sigh “No.”

“All right, well, I mean, maybe I could climb up there. Work my way around and open it from the inside?” Ellie peers around the rocks, “Uh, no. Well, I’m the smallest, so it’d be easier for me to get through.” Tess hums, “But you die and we get nothing. You stay.”

“I could help.” You say a little meek, Tess is a little intimidating and you feel so out of place like you’re intruding. Technically, you aren’t supposed to be in this mess. She takes a good look at you and says, “Yeah, no.”

You deflate a little and avoid trying to argue, Tess turns to Joel and asks for help, “Can you give me a hand?” Joel pulls back Ellie with the strap of her backpack and she sighs, then Joel tugs your jacket sleeve to do the same. Your face warms a little bit, it’s the first time he’s ever touched you.

Joel boosts up Tess over the pile of rubble and she climbs over, “You good up there?” Tess analyzes the mess she needs to clean up and replies, “Yeah. It’s a bit of a mess, so I’m gonna need a few minutes.”

Joel turns around to face you and Ellie, he adjusts his gun and lets his back slide against the wall to sit down across from both of you. Ellie has her arms resting on her knees while you decide to sit comfortably cross-legged.

Ellie takes out her knife and decides to play with it, tossing it in her hands as if it were just a pen and not something that could easily cut her if she commits a mistake. You watch everything play out just like it did in the episode—character development.

“Nice knife,” Joel says as his eyes follow the movement of Ellie’s tossing. She only glances at him with acknowledgment. “Where’d you learn to do that?” he asks, you gotta hand it to him for trying to make an effort.

She replies with a monotone voice, “The circus.” 

Joel looks away exasperated and completely done with her bullshit. You try and hide your smile, but the slight crease in your eyes gives away your amusement. Ellie folds her knife, and as Joel sighs, the kid decides to give an olive branch, “Where are you from?”

“Texas.” He replies, and Ellie continues, “What about Tess?”

“Detroit. It’s in Michigan.”

If there’s anything she hated most, was the fact people underestimate her intelligence, she rolls her eyes and Ellie’s reply comes out harsh, “I go to school. I know where Detroit is.”

Her response causes a wave of silence between the three of you. Your eyes drift from Joel to Ellie, she then decides it’s your turn to be interrogated, “Are you from the future?”

Your mouth twists a little to the right before deciding on a good enough answer, “Sort of? Your technology stopped advancing in 2003, so, I guess I am?” This piques her interest, “So, what’s it like over there?”

You pick the dirt off the underside of your fingernails, a little nervous, or if not nervous then cautious, as you respond, “Almost the same. Our technology is way different though.”

“Different how?” She asks.

You give her a soft smile and respond, “Well, for starters, we have touch screens for phones, laptops, tablets, you name it, it probably has a touch screen.”

“No way,” Ellie says with her eyes full of amazement and wonder, “What else?”

You give a hum as you teasingly tell her, “I don’t know… it might blow your tiny little mind.” She blows a raspberry in your face and you stick your tongue out in retaliation.

“Come on! Wait, you said we were just characters in some kind of story?” She says dramatically and tugs the sleeve of your jacket and continues, “What did you mean by that?”

Your eyes shift to look at Joel, who has his full attention on you; simply waiting. You blink owlishly at him, once, then twice before settling on a response, “Yeah, um, it recently aired.”

“So, do you know the future? Like our future? What’s about to happen? Will we be able to make a cure or a vaccine?” You couldn’t keep up with her rapid questions, and your mouth slightly parts open. Should you tell them? 

Can you change the fact Tess is practically minutes away from death? That Joel is about to make the worst mistake of his life? That Bill and Frank are… that they…

Luckily, you didn’t need to answer Ellie, Joel who senses your unease, steps in for you, “Ellie, stop askin’ her about her life, she doesn’t wanna give anythin’ up.” You look at him apologetically and shut your eyes for a while. This migraine keeps bothering you, a sharp, heavy, thump in the side of your brain hasn’t gone away. You tell yourself that it eventually will. Maybe.

Ellie focuses her attention back to Joel, “So you two like a…”

“Pass.” He says.

Ellie continues, “How’d you end up in Boston?”

“Pass. No more questions about me.” Ellie rolls her eyes at him and racks her brain for a different question, “How long do infected live?” Joel mocks Ellie in reply, “Oh, I thought you went to school.”

“It’s a really shitty one.” She snarkily replies. You smile at their banter with your eyes closed, enjoying the conversation that they have going on. Joel thinks for a moment before answering her, “Well, some last about a month or two. But there’s other’s been walkin’ about 20 years.”

Ellie fidgets with her knife again, “You ever kill one?”

You hear the slight sorrow in his voice, “Yeah, I’ve killed lots of them.” Ellie asks the most human question as she looks at the older man, “Was it hard? Like, knowing they were people once?”

You open your eyes to watch his gaze look away from the kid, memories come back to him, what he’s done and will continue to do, and he nods, “Sometimes.”

“What about that guy last night?” She asks, and you frown while he gives Ellie a stern look. You knew Ellie liked the fact Joel hurt the FEDRA guard to protect her. She loved it. Luckily Joel doesn’t have to respond, you could hear the sound of something approaching you. The loyalist immediately stands up, and you and Ellie get up to stand next to Joel, he puts his finger to the trigger of his gun, ready to protect you both from whatever is out there.

“You can put the gun down, Joel,” Tess calls out from a distance, and a tingle of jealousy moves through your bones like electricity. She knew him so well, to the point where she knew what he was going to do before doing it. They both loved each other without admitting it, and it hurts you. They never stood a chance. 

You hear the quiet rumble of Tess pushing away the debris to open the door, the loud creak of metal reveals her face, and it’s full of worry. Joel reads her like a book, “What now?” Then Tess nods her head, signaling to follow her.

As you make your way upstairs, you take notice of the abandoned wine glass and dishes, the dust that coats every inch of the hotel, and the fallen chairs. Tess pulls back a plastic curtain for you and Ellie to walk through, only to be greeted by the view of hundreds of infected down below.

“There’s so many,” Ellie comments in disbelief, you can hear the cries and wailing of each Runner as they roll and crawl. The young girl leans a little forward to get a better view. Tess nods, “The last time we were here they were still deep inside the buildings. Then I guess enough people came through looking for the QZ they went inside seeking shelter, and that’s how they get more and more of the city bit by city year after year.”

As the clouds pass by, the sun shines through a little, overwhelming light shines over the infected, they screech and roll away, like a domino effect. “They’re connected,” Ellie says, and Tess nods in confirmation, “More than you know. The fungus also grows underground. Long fibers like wires, some of them stretching over a mile.”

If you weren’t so focused on listening to Tess explain the cordyceps, you would have felt Joel staring at you the whole time, observing how you were taking all of the information being shared. You were surprisingly calm, despite the fact zombies are now real and you could die. And possibly a little worried like you were anticipating something bad was going to happen.

Tess continues, “Now you step on a patch of cordyceps in one place and you can wake a dozen infected from somewhere else. Now they know where you are, now they come. You’re not immune from being ripped apart. You understand? It’s important. I’m trying to keep you alive.”

Ellie nods and you do too, even if the question wasn’t directed at you. “So we’re not going that way.” She states, and Tess agrees, “No.”

“What do we do then? Short way?” Ellie asks and Joel looks at Tess, and speaks the dreaded words you’ve heard before, “Museum.”

A/N: Trust me, I’m working double time on the next one if this is received well :,) Thank you for reading! See ya in the next chapter <3

Next Chapter ->

[robobarbie]

For Angst/Romance hour: one of the LI (your choice) is stuck reliving the best day of their life with MC on a permanent loop.

Their best day of their life is the day they met.

1

Xyx hears his name called and turns. The smile on your face is a sight he will never forget.

He rushes across the airport tile and scoops you up into a hug. "Ohhhhh, love. Finally."

You drop your bags and squeeze him back so hard he wonders for a moment if it's truly possible to strangle someone with a hug, but he honestly doesn't care if it's true -- what a way to go out. Enviable, really.

You two stand there together for a few minutes longer, hugging too tight, laughing nonsense, and taking in how it feels to be together. Some passersby murmur or chuckle as they watch the scene -- Xyx doesn't care. Drink it in, loves! I'm happier than you fucks will ever be!

When you both finally relent and ease back from each other, Xyx bumps his forehead against yours and smiles. "How was the flight?"

"Long," you sigh, still smiling, "but alright. I watched Boss Baby."

"Oh? And what else?"

"Just Boss Baby."

He laughs. "How many times is that, then?"

"I lost count. Felt a little insane, honestly."

"Well," he says as he finally releases you and scoops up your luggage, "I suppose that's the right state to be in for meeting me, right?"

"Oh, of course."

The rest of the day is a sleepy one. You're exhausted, understandably, so Xyx has an easy day planned. Lunch somewhere nearby his home, a simple walk around a park, then take you back to his place for a nap. Wake for dinner, then maybe watch a movie, then back to bed to get ready for an exciting next day.

At lunch, he takes note of how you hold your cup while drinking. During the walk, he smiles when he notices the peculiar way you swing your arms -- not that you've ever noticed, he's sure. And during your very-much-earned nap, he can't help but push some lingering strands of hair from your goofy sleepy face. Oh, that expression is to die for, doll.

When dinner is wrapped up and a movie starts on the screen, Xyx's heart almost bursts as you lean into him and cover you both with a blanket. "This feels nice."

He blushes and nods into your hair. "Yes. That it does."

You both fall asleep during the movie.

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

2

Xyx feels a bit... fuzzy. Here he is, at the airport. A little disoriented, he glances around. Wasn't he just here? Didn't you... just a few hours before, appear at the gate?

He hears a familiar voice call his name, and he turns -- and that smile is there. Again. Xyx can't help but smile at the sight. Maybe he just had a vivid dream.

He runs across the airport and scoops you up, burying his face in your hair. "Lovely to see you."

You laugh. "So formal."

"What? Want me to be a bit more...?"

"Absolutely not!"

He laughs and holds you close. He notes that you seem to be squeezing him just a bit too tight. The sensation makes him feel odd. He's felt this before. He's wondered how nice it would be to die like this, he's sure.

Clearing his throat, Xyx carefully lets you down and picks up your discarded luggage. "So? How was the flight?"

"Long, but alright. I watched Boss Baby."

He frowns. "Oh? And what else?"

"Just Boss Baby."

Something isn't right.

"I might have just looped it over and over, ha. Felt a little insane, honestly."

"That does sound a little insane, love."

You laugh and take his arm in yours, pulling him towards the exit. You're tired, but eager to start the day. He's got a simple day planned for you already -- lunch, a walk, a nap, dinner, and a movie. He's saved all the exciting bits for tomorrow. And the day after.

At lunch, he takes note of how you thrum your fingers on the table when you think how to respond to certain questions. During the walk, he notices the small, nearly missable limp in your left leg. How did he miss it before? Wait, before? There was no before. He shakes his head and you ask him if he's alright.

"Yes, just a fly."

During your nap, he looks at the odd shape your hair has made draped over your face. It's almost like a spiral. When dinner is wrapped up and a movie starts on the screen, Xyx smiles as you lean into him and cover you both with a blanket. "This feels nice."

He glances down at you next to him, curled up and comfortable. You're here, next to him. He kisses your head.

"Yes. That it does."

You both fall asleep during the movie.

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

5

Xyx clenches his jaw. The airport walls are a sickly shade of yellow in the cheap lighting. Almost nauseating. How can anyone stand to be here?

You call his name and he turns towards you with a tight smile. You run to him and he catches you, giving you a small spin.

"Hey!! You made it!!"

You laugh. "I'm so glad I did."

You murmur small things into his ear for a few minutes and he chuckles in response to each one, but doesn't say much else. There's a pit in his stomach -- he's been here already, right? Aren't you already at home, snuggled up on the couch?

When you finally pull back to pick up your luggage, he rushes to help. "No, no, let me. You're tired."

You acquiesce happily. "Thank you. It was an exhausting flight."

He nods, not really wanting more information. "I think the exit is... that way?" He points vaguely towards the baggage claim and starts to walk, one hand in yours.

"You ever seen Boss Baby?"

He barks out a laugh. "Can't say I have."

"Well," you giggle, "I have. About a million times."

"Have you, now?"

Xyx wants to throw up.

At lunch, he sees the way your eyes light up when you talk to him -- so, so eager to spend time together, get to know him more. "Do you live near here?"

"Yes," he answers, the words feeling rehearsed. "Just up the street a couple blocks."

"I'm so jealous. This is a great location."

"Mhm."

On the walk, he offers you his arm. "Here. I know you're tired." You take it with a thank you.

The nap passes, dinner is delicious, and then there you are, waiting on the couch for him with a blanket.

"Come, sit!" You pat the cushion next to you and open the blanket.

After a moment of hesitation, he sits and allows you to curl in close.

"This feels nice."

It doesn't feel nice.

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

12

Your voice calls out for him, and he rushes to meet you in the middle of the tile, with a hug.

"Gah!! I'm so happy to see you!!"

"Yeah, yeah, love, me too, but--"

You squeeze him a bit too tight and the words choke in his throat. He coughs and you quickly release him.

"Oh, sorry!! Are you okay?"

"Peachy," he laughs, rubbing his throat. "Here, let me help you with your things-"

"No, no, I got it!" You quickly pick up your luggage. "Don't strain yourself too much!"

"I'm not-- ha." He shakes his head. "Fine. Have it your way."

"Did you want to say something, by the way?"

He thinks for a moment.

"...No. I don't think so."

You take his arm in yours and lead him from the airport.

At lunch, you ask him if he's seen Boss Baby. He says no. You tell him how many times you've seen it. His laugh is forced, and you notice.

On the walk, he offers you his arm and you decline, wanting to not be a bother. He insists you aren't. You still decline.

During the nap, you ask if he doesn't mind staying out of the room -- you're really tired, you see. He understands. He doesn't necessarily want to be there.

Dinner passes quietly, and then he's putting on the movie. He calls out for you, but you don't reply. He stands to check where you are, and finds you asleep once again, facing the wall.

He closes the door and returns to the living room.

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

34

"Is something wrong?"

Xyx stares at you before him, bathed in the yellow airport lighting.

"Yes," he replies. "Something is wrong."

"What is it?" You gently take his hand in yours.

He looks down at your joined hands. The way your thumb traces his skin is so familiar to him now. But, it's not to you.

"I just feel a little sick. I'm sorry, love."

"Oh, don't worry. That's okay. You can't help being sick." You're quick to assure him as you pick up your things. "Here. Let's get you home. We can just relax there today, yeah?"

"You sure?"

"Of course. We can watch a movie or something." You giggle. "Just not-"

"-Boss Baby. I know."

"...Yeah, Boss Baby. Good guess."

"I'm a genius, duh."

You laugh.

When you finally get home, Xyx flops down on the couch. You sit next to him and place a hand on his forehead. "You do feel a little warm."

"Mmm."

"Blanket?"

"Yes, please."

You curl up next to him and flip through movies on the TV til you find something interesting. It's a different one, he notes. That's interesting.

"Feeling okay?"

"As good as I can."

"I'll take it." You take his hand in yours and squeeze it. "Let me know when you want to eat."

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

98

"You watched Boss Baby at least four times on the flight."

You blink as you drop your luggage at his feet. "Yes. What? How did you know?"

"Why did you do that?"

You shrug. "I don't know. It just sort of looped and... there I was. Watching it over and over again."

"Did you like it?"

"I guess? But I think four times was enough."

"Not ten times? Twenty times? I'm sure you could unlock something important if you kept at it."

"Like what?" You laugh. "A strong desire to off myself?"

He smiles. "Ha. What a thought."

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

242

He grips your arm and says it again. "We've already done this."

Your confused look is familiar to him at this point. He's seen it ten times before. But he has to keep trying. There has to be a way.

"You're not making any sense, Xyx."

"I know. But you have to listen to me."

He rattles off all the information you've told him before on all the other cycles. The Boss Baby information, the small fall you had before the trip, the way you were worried about being a burden to him the whole flight over. All of it. And with each fact, your expression became more and more confused.

"Does that... how could I know all that, love? How could I? If this wasn't happening?"

"But... if it is... why can't I remember anything?"

He starts crying.

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

1003

"How about a game instead of a movie?"

You perk up. "Sure! What game?"

He closes his eyes for a moment to think. What haven't you already played together? He might have exhausted his collection, he realizes.

"How about we get something new?" New is a precious word to him, now.

"Oh, that's not necessary. How about this one?"

You point to a game on his shelf for the fortieth time, and he smiles. "Okay."

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

5210

He's older now. He knows it. Yet in his reflection, he still sees the same sight. Unchanged. He's grown to hate the lack of grays in his hair.

He sees you wave excitedly at him across the sea of people, and turns around. You call out to him in confusion, but he continues his exit.

The doors open and he stands, eyes closed. The cold air outside is refreshing.

He throws his phone in the trash and hails a taxi.

"Where to?"

He thinks for a moment. Where did he want to go next? He recites the list of locations in his head before arriving at a small cafe he'd been meaning to try for... for years, now. His memory is quiet good by now, which is nice at least.

The taxi driver nods and sets off. Xyx watches the city pass by -- the same red cars and the same angry pedestrians. When they arrive at the cafe, he pays the driver way too much and proceeds to have the most average ham sandwich of his life. But he loves every bite. He tips the waitress too much as he leaves, of course.

He doesn't think about you all day. He hasn't thought about you really for several hundred cycles.

As he walks up the drive to his home, he recites the list of places he wants to try next. "Community college sign ups, call center interview, bank robbery..."

The bank robbery will be exciting.

[bluebblurry]

The Bad Boys and their soulmates

(Someone already made something like this but i wanna write my own lmao.)

“Etho.” Joel nearly spat out the name like it was poisonous. It no longer came with a soft gaze, but rather his own reflection in pitch black sunglasses. Joel’s bangs covered his eyebrows, and his mouth was set in an indifferent line. How was Etho supposed to read him like this..?

“Hi Joel!” Etho greeted anyway, his voice chipper and smiley. “I’m likin’ the leather vest. It really works for you.”

Joel huffed, his sword disappearing from his hand. He didn’t blush, like he used to when Etho would compliment him, only kept the same guarded expression.

How dare he keep playing with my emotions like this! Joel quietly seethed. Etho was being cruel– pitying him. Joel clenched his fists. He knew he never meant anything to Etho, they had been stuck together. So why, oh why, did Etho have to keep hurting him like this?

“Etho,” Joel tried again, his voice darker this time, “once I hit red, you are done for.” It was both a threat and a promise.

Etho smirked, nothing innocent in his eyes. “Hmm.. you gonna ravish me with charged Red passion..?” He teased. He knew Joel didn’t mean it like that, but he was desperately hoping it would break whatever wall Joel was trying to build between them.

Joel didn’t even react. At least, that’s how it seemed to Etho. Joel’s insides were burning, with excitement or anger he wasn’t sure. He scoffed. “Just watch your back.” He nearly growled.

The air was charged with buzzing static, and Etho hated it.

*****

“Jimmy!” Jimmy heard his name being whisper-shouted. He glanced at his two teammates asleep in the triple bed. If it wasn’t them, then who would be calling for him in the middle of the night??

“Jim!!” The voice spoke again, a little louder. Jimmy’s sleep-deprived mind raced through the list of server members, trying to think of who could possibly need him. He huffed quietly, figuring it was someone looking for an easy prank target. Until..

“My rancher, are you up there..?”

It was Tango.

IT WAS TANGO!!

Jimmy bolted out of bed and nearly sprinted to the edge of the roof. He peered over the edge, and sure enough, there was his rancher, looking cute and very dapper in a red button down, black waistcoat, and matching black bowtie.

Jimmy smiled brightly and jumped down, water bucket in hand. He landed (not-so-gracefully) in front of Tango, instantly running up and tackling him in a giant bear hug.

Jimmy couldn’t fly here, but his wings wrapped around Tango, encasing him in a golden yellow double hug. He buried his face in the blaze’s neck, melting when he felt Tango start to purr. His tail curled around Jimmy’s ankles, just as gentle and soft as it’s always been.

Timmy and Tango had agreed not to team this season, but that didn’t stop them from missing each other.

*****

They made peace with their desert a long time ago, but they both knew they’d never have that same connection again. Especially after Grian’s.. choices in Double Life.

Scar stared up at the stupid woodland mansion, flint and steel in hand. He was still bitter. Maybe he should be going after Big B too, but Grian.. how could he just do that to him..? Sure, things weren’t the same as in Third Life, but did he really mean that little to Grian?

“Scar..?” He heard a whisper from the tree line. He whipped around, seeing the very avian he’d just been thinking of. Though, Grian didn’t look the same here. The white button down he’d taken to wearing under his sweater was gone, taking away the nice little nod to Mumbo that Scar liked to think of it as. He had a leather jacket, too big and too edgy for him. The dark glasses on top of his head were odd to see against his normally fluffy blond hair.

Grian didn’t look right like this.. without a red and white poncho and sand goggles.

[unforth]

i don't know if you are still into 2ha? but what would you say if someone asked you what makes 2ha stand out? It's full of tropes that have been done before and there is nothing new. it's full of cliches according to some people. So, what makes it stand out?

I am still into 2ha, I'd consider it one of my top fandoms right now.

I'll own I find this whole ask rather odd? It implies that novelty is a. possible and b. what I'm looking for in a book.

For a... Name me a book that isn't full or tropes, name me a book that isn't full of "nothing new," name me a book that isn't full of cliches. Enjoyable books aren't ~original~, and imo original is a myth. It's about how the ideas are strung together, not about them being fresh and different and new.

For b... look. I'm almost 42 years old. I've been reading a ton since I was 8. I've read a l.o.t. over the years. And I've come to learn the things I love in characters and books.

Give me a main character (or, in 2ha, BOTH main characters) who thinks they're worthless and will give everything they have to save an innocent stranger. Give me archetypes of self-sacrifice and martyrdom and low self-esteem and adoration and obsession cooked so deep into their bones that it extends over multiple life times. Give me that adoration reciprocated but the pining, oh, it is mutual for these idiots who should be and will be lovers. I'll eat that up every time. Give me someone who thinks they're unlovable but loves the world anyway, and give me someone who loves them so much they'll tolerate the claws.

Give me epic length I can sink my teeth into. Make the plot sprawling, the side characters lush, the world developed. It's okay if some parts drag a little, it's hard to keep momentum over an epic, and one person's "that dragged" is another's "that rocked." Anyway, the slow bits makes the more exciting parts that much more thrilling.

Give me whump, and hurt/comfort, and pain that burns the soul. Make the characters deep and compelling and then confront them with nothing but bad choices, force them to pick... and then see them pick each other, everytime, even in the midst of the darkest night imaginable. Give me unreliable narrators and angst and characters with nobility that shines like the sun even when they're covered in shit.

I adored this kind of story when I was 12 and I started the Wheel of Time and fell in love with Rand al'Thor, and I adore this kind of story now, in Tian Guan Ci Fu and The Husky and His White Cat Shizun and Modu. The patterns in the kinds of books I enjoy most, the ones that make me feral and obsessed, are very consistent, and being Old means I know what those patterns are and I can seek out books that have them, and recognize them when I find them again. It's happening with the book I'm reading now, in fact, and I can feel the feral obsession growling in delight in my brain, lmao.

Ya know how some people go into fanfiction because they love a character and want to see iterations of them over and over a little to the left? Well, that's why I started fanfic, and through fic I found a genre of original fiction that does that for me. I want similar character archetypes in endless iterations of stories, and danmei gives that to me, and that's why I'm up to my nose in danmei fandoms, and why the specific ones I like best are my favorites.

What stands out about 2ha, for me, is that it fits my taste in character archetypes and plot type. If someone out there shares that taste, they'll probably also love it. If they don't share that taste, they may not, but they may, because it's a complex enough book to cater to more than just one specific type of taste. Someone who likes OP control fantasies will also probably like it, for example. I wouldn't recommend it to everyone, and that's not a bad thing. Stories that appeal to everyone tend to be shallow and not attract deep obsession, having sacrificed the depth to draw a wider audience.

Anyway, anon...you phrased this like an anti. 80% of your ask is trashing the book on false premises about tropes and cliches. I genuinely can't tell if this is meant as a troll or if it's sincere, but I've answered as if it's sincere. But regardless, you'll be a lot happier as a reader if you forget originality. Books aren't original. Find an author, genre, series, whatever, that fits your taste, and frolic there. That's the route to happy reading.

I've found mine. I hope you find yours.

[electric-blorbos]

JUST HAD MY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!!! can I please get anything wheatley-related I would appreciate it very much thank you

Sorry it took me so long to get to this! I guess a belated Wheatley birthday present is better than nothing, though. I hope you enjoy it!

Wheatley Surprise:

Included: Just Wheatley from Portal 2

No I'm not going to tell you what's in this post, that would spoil the surprise! Just click on it to find out!

"I don't care what you have to do with him, just get that little idiot out of here!" Your boss, who also happened to be the main personality core controlling the entire facility. GLaDOS looked down at you in scorn, displaying an image of your pride and joy on one of the screens on the wall. Poor Wheatley.

"he's doing much better lately, I promise, GLaDOS! He can work odd jobs around the facility! After all, his illogical function makes him work just like an organic-"

"that defeats the purpose of assigning ai to tasks. Why would we want an illogical idiot who thinks like a human to work in the facility when we could have perfectly logical personality constructs working here. Either drop him into the incinerator, or get rid of him some other way, but I'm not looking at him any longer."

You sighed, and walked out of GLaDOS's chambers.

"Wheatley?" You called out for him, walking into his section of the facility to find him. He was simply hanging from his management rail, awaiting instructions from his boss in the relaxation vaults.

"Wheatley, I'm going to have to disconnect you from your management rail, alright?" You walked up to him, holding your arms up to take him down, but he pulled away.

"no! Your team told me that if I ever disconnected from my management rail, I'd die! Are you trying to kill me?"

You shook your head.

"you trust me, right Wheatley?" You asked. He nodded hesitantly as you climbed up a stepladder to take him down as he detached himself.

"Unfortunately, GLaDOS says that you're... Well-" it was difficult to break the news to him. He looked up at you hopefully, not piecing the dots together. He didn't even seem to realize that he could be fired.

"what? She said I'm what?"

"Being let go, Wheatley... GLaDOS is firing you."

"WHAT?" his camera lens darted around the hallway the two of you were in, visibly in a state of panic.

"She can't let me go- even if dropping down from my management rail didn't kill me, that incinerator will definitely kill me! Please, y/n, you have to hide me somewhere! I don't want to die!" You could hear soft sobbing noises coming from Wheatley's core as he squeezed his lens covers shut. He was terrified, and couldn't imagine a more horrible fate than this. You couldn't help but feel sorry for him, and you wrapped your arms gently around the core.

"hey... Hey, Wheatley, it's going to be alright. I'm not going to incinerate you. Nobody is. We're going to take you somewhere safe."

You pressed your cheek gently into the top of his chrome shell, and he nuzzled into your chest as well as he could. He trusted you more than anything, knowing that his grip on reality wasn't the best, so he had no choice but to trust in you.

You took Wheatley to your office, setting him down on a spare chair for the rest of the day. He chattered away all day, babbling about how he hadn't seen the office part of the facility in a while, and how excited he was to be able to finally get off his management rail. You didn't manage to get any work done on your latest project, but that was ok. Your coworkers were even glad to see Wheatley go, calling him an annoying little idiot. A few of them even congratulated you on making him so insufferable.

"PCH, I'm not insufferable. You like me, right? I'm a likable little core. Even if GLaDOS did fire me... I'm still doing a good job, right? I'm sure I can get a job outside the facility, right? Maybe at Black Mesa?" He talked to you as you walked him to your car, and you chuckled.

"you'd probably be sued beyond recognition if you let Black Mesa get ahold of your tech, Wheatley. But it's ok, you don't need a job right now."

You buckled him in, and started driving off to your apartment. Wheatley kept babbling to you as you drove, not worried about distracting you. Even still, you were pretty good at staying focused even while he was babbling.

After a while, you got home to your little apartment. Since you lived alone, it wasn't really much to speak of. A bit of a mess, but Wheatley looked around at it like it was the most beautiful mess he'd ever seen.

"wow! This is what human homes look like? And I thought the relaxation chambers looked cozy and lived in! This is amazing, love!"

You chuckled and blushed a little, setting him down on your sofa.

"I usually just have some dinner and relax on the couch. I'm not used to having guests."

"That's alright, love! I'm just happy to be out of Aperture labs!"

Despite his cheerful demeanour, you'd never seen Wheatley this genuinely happy before. He couldn't really move around without his management rail, so he just sat contentedly on your couch until you sat down next to him with your bowl of ramen and egg.

"You seem to be adjusting to the life outside of Aperture fairly well, Wheatley. I've never seen you this happy before."

"Sakes alive, mate... That place was a prison! I'd never had the chance to see the sun, to drop off my management rail... To live, know what I mean?" He raised his lower lens cover at you in a smile-like gesture.

"It's the best feeling in the world to be out of that place. I didn't think you'd actually take me in, though! But-" he started to look concerned.

"what am I going to do when you're not at work? I don't have any hands, so I can't read books or use the internet... Do you have any ideas?"

You hadn't really thought much about that, to be honest. You were mostly just excited about having your own British orb to keep in your house and talk to, but he was right. It wouldn't be fair to just leave him in front of the TV... He'd be bored out of his mind.

"we can come up with something. Until then, I think I'll hire a babysitter to keep you company during the day. Then maybe we can sign you up for some hobby groups so you can make some friends. It'll be fine."

Wheatley nodded his little lens camera, visibly understanding.

"I'm not a baby, but that sounds a lot better than being alone all day."

"better than nothing, right?" You smiled, setting your finished soup bowl on the coffee table and putting your arm around Wheatley to watch a few episodes of your favorite show. Wheatley talked through it, of course, but you'd already seen this show through several times, so it was okay.

When you were done, you went to rinse out your bowl and put it in the sink.

"well, time for bed. You comin', Wheatley?"

Wheatley lit up.

"Really? I've never seen a bedtime before! They simulate daylight hours at all times in Aperture. People don't even have a bedtime routine in the relaxation vaults. It's mostly just check-ups and then back to bed, ya know what I'm saying?"

You nod, picking him up and taking him to your room. You set him down on your bed, and angle him towards the bathroom so he can see you brushing your teeth.

"Alright, I'm going to shower and get changed into my pajamas now, so I'm going to close the door."

"I mean... I wouldn't be opposed to the idea of watching you shower and get changed."

"Oh don't be a pervert." You closed the bathroom door while you showered and got changed, and then you got into bed with Wheatley.

"this probably won't be too different from watching the test subjects in the relaxation vaults. Just try to relax, alright? I'll be awake in a few hours."

"Yeah, alright. You know, the craziest thing happened in the relaxation vaults last week. So there I was on my management rail..."

You pulled him in close, holding him like a stuffed animal, and listened to him chatter on as you fell fast asleep.

[glassrowboat]

Orange Ribbon. Itto.

Summary: Dressing up animals is therapeutic, no matter what anyone says. To see them in cute little clothes, in top hats, maybe even bow ties never fails to put a smile on your face. A hobby. It's a silly one, but a hobby nonetheless. And, of course, Itto (under his own insistence) needs to be decked out by his girl, too!

Word count: 1000+

Authors note: mentions of the reader being short, but to be fair when I think of Itto I still imagine that one photo of him next to Zhongli back before he was released. Itto is seven foot in my heart damnit-

Perhaps this is the perfect hiding spot, tucked behind grandma Oni's house with a stray slab of wood leaned against the wall to cover a few boxes from the rain whenever a storm comes crawling through, and currently yourself too. The treated otogi wood had a familiar smell that filled your senses. Though admiring some lumber wasn't your prime objective of this little game of hide and seek.

Not that you really needed to bother. Shinobu said the boys would be busy today helping put up posters for one of the many odd jobs they tend to pick up just to rake in some cash. Meaning you had all the time in the world to-

And the safe haven shook, the wood peeling back from this old paneled wall of the hut to reveal red horns and wide eyes right on you. A wide smile with pointed teeth that could only belong to one man, or in this case oni. “Look what I got for us!” He called out, hand holding up a small bag that, knowing him, was undoubtedly full of snacks.

So, no time in the world then.

Heh….

Taking a lid to the box you had set the onikabuto in to keep him all nice and secure as you subjected him to dress up time you slowly tried to slide it over the little guy as Itto excitedly talked. “Well my favorite sweetie pie, my bro, I got some strawberry daifuku, melon pan, and I even scored dorayaki!”

Dropping his bag on the box you were slowly sliding the lid over with a nice, hefty thud you couldn't help but jump. Itto was right about the snacks, they were something to get excited over, but not so much so when the little bug inside made a noise from the fright he was unwillingly given. You couldn't even fully click the lid over the box in time as Itto's black nails were poking the lid off as he made a small huh?

“What are you doing to my little buddy?”

The real answer to that? Well, the stray cats in the village have taken to running away from you everything they even caught a sight of your presence. Fully self done, but it still hurt as they turned away from you, fleeing from the person who would snatch them up and cover them in bow ties, little sweaters, or on the rare occasion a top hat for the less squeamish ones. It seems that you've completely lost every cats good graces after treating them like dress up dolls so you were stuck with no choice but to turn to a creature that reasonably couldn't run away. So now there's Crimson Staff being revealed to both your eyes as a bright orange ribbon was wrapped In a neat bow around his horn.

Deflect. Deflect. 

“What have I told you about calling me bro?”

“Don't call you bro when I've had my tongue in your mouth? Sorry, babe.” As he spoke, an awkward laugh slipped out of him, sharp fangs on show as he tried to brush it off with a smile. “But what are you doing to my star onikabuto beetle battler?”

Can't have his little champion getting distracted from the ring and all that. 

Okay, the first deflection didn't work.

“It's actually for your beetle battles!” You claimed, eyes flicking down to the bright orange fabric. “It's a warning. You know how in nature the most colorful animals are the dangerous ones, right? So this is just like war paint.”

Poison dart frogs are characterized by one very important feature that could only help solidify your point, so clearly, this claim has some backing. Backing Itto only seemed to nod at as he raised a hand to pat the little guy on the back, always so careful to make sure he wouldn't do any actual harm as he did so. “Interesting way to see it.”

Not at all….

“Though I'm not sure an orange ribbon would look more menacing than the bright red color he already has. Or what about that badass looking scar? But I respect the decision.” 

“Why thank you for your approval, I'm honored.”

Teasing him didn't work well though when he moved his hand over to pinch at your cheeks, pulling and squishing them at his leisure. “You’re a goof, you know that?”

“Says the town idiot.” A little uncalled for? Yes. Did you care when he was still trying to egg a reaction out of you? No. You didn't even feel bad as your tongue stuck out to point at him.

“Who you callin’ an idiot, short stuff?” How you could see his eyes flicking down to your tongue, or maybe even your lips as he leaned in closer, towering frame crouching down to where you were kneeling close enough to kiss. 

So how could you help yourself from pressing a quick smooch to his nose, trying not to giggle outwardly as his eyes crossed to watch your actions. So cute. “You, tall stuff.”

“Oh now you're asking for it, babe.” Reaching his hands out you didn't even have time to squeal as he picked you up, raising you up and into the air as Itto stood back up. There would be no freedom for you to have like this. Especially not when he had such easy access to grab at your ass. “Alright, so let's play a guessing game, yeah?”

Without even bothering to wait for you to say yes, you're down for this, Itto kept talking. “This is because you can't dress up the cats anymore, isn't it?”

Ah…you've been figured out.

“No. Maybe. Okay, yes.”

“Then I volunteer.” Katniss? “Why bother the onikabuto when I'm right here, babe? You can tie all the ribbons you want in my hair. Get some clips too if you want. I'm down for it all.”

“Is-”

“Better yet!” Itto started, cutting you off as he jostled you in his arms to keep you from falling. Mother fucker could've given a warning. “We can get the entire gang in on it. You could make us look all cool and stuff with all sorts of things. So let's get you some ribbons so then I can be the manliest oni on the block.”

“You're…ridiculous.”

“No, I'm all yours.”

Fair. “Yeah, you are.” Grabbing a tussle of his white hair you twirl it around your finger, unable to help yourself from thinking about tying it in all sorts of ways with all the little hair accessories you have back home. Maybe the ones with little skulls, more ribbons, or that one charm Itto had got you after first becoming official. (Shinobu had only told you later Itto had worked for a week straight to get it for you). “Then you're my dress up doll for the next hour, mister. No backsies?”

“None at all. Do to me as you wish, I'm so ready for a makeover!”

Oh, you're gonna make sure he'll regret saying that.

“Challenge accepted.”

Sucker.

[danthediamondminecart]

Finally posting the references for the revamped RBB / TMA AU, hooray! Its alternate title is the Top Of The Food Chain AU, but that’s subject to change.

The new premise of the AU is this:

Kreek Craft is a budding ghost-busting YouTuber living in a fictional city in the USA (I'm thinking Pennsylvania, but that's still being decided), where the RB Foundation also operates. He and his friends have been trying to make it big for some time now, to no success - everything he tries has already been done before. However, after Kreek has a genuine supernatural encounter with…something, and the video he posts of it goes viral, he starts to sink deeper into the supernatural world…and what comes with it.

…Yeah, I'm aware that premise is toeing the line between character ad creator, but I just really want to create a Hunt-focused story where the hunt is for something metaphorical like fame or information, and the brainworms made me do it here.

Character bios under the cut, and I’ll post more about the AU when I have more to show for it LEL

Main Cast:

Kreek Craft

The main protagonist. An excitable guy with dreams of being a famous YouTuber, and runs/hosts a ghost busting channel under the name KreekCraft - though growth is slow at the moment. However, an encounter with and subsequent murder of a creature of the Dark changes that for him. Due to this dedication to his craft and the chase for views, the Hunt soon claims him, whether he wants it to or not.

Steak Wads

Kreek’s co-host who’s one of Kreek’s best friends. He does all the odd jobs on the channel that Kreek doesn’t do. He’s a little…too upbeat despite some of the crazier circumstances they get into, but I’m sure that won’t lead to any issues. He gains a valuable connection with the Flesh avatar in this story, and later, the Hunt takes him as well. 

Bella Cinder

The camerawoman for the more produced episodes, who also runs her own more casual YouTube channel on the side. She finds herself in possession of a cursed camera, which gives her the attention of the Eye - as well as this, she ends up bringing the Institute’s attention to the goings on of the YouTube channel.  

Lana Raee

A make-up artist hired to cover Kreek’s tracks, she ends up asking to stick around and see more of the supernatural goings on. She ends up drawing in the attention of the Stranger due to her own fears of being replaced and the way she advises the cast. Very much the only sane woman. 

Booshot Mistr

The final member of the crew, and the audio guy for the more produced videos. Booshot is more no-nonsense than the rest of the crew and finds Kreek a little annoying, but he sticks around for Bella’s sake. In the final arc of the story, he is targeted by the Lonely.

Supporting Cast:

Ominous Nebula

Night-Foxx’s younger brother and Pink’s roommate. A musical theatre student that’s always upbeat and ready to do something to help others, but he has a lot of hurt he is hiding. He was adopted into the Nebula family as a sacrificial lamb to the Vast, not that he knows it until later of course. Where Lana is more desensitised but still an outsider, Ominous is the true ‘only sane man’ of the extended cast. 

Night-Foxx Nebula 

Kreek’s other best friend and Ominous’ older brother. He’s in a privileged position, already being the owner of the space travel division of the Nebula Travel Corporation at his relatively young age. Though, that’s most likely because his father passed the role down to him. However, he’s hiding a secret related to his father’s demise, and his connection to the Vast. 

Pink Leaf 

Bella’s childhood friend and one of the first ‘interviewees’ on Kreek’s channel, at Bella’s suggestion to ‘put himself out there!’, talking about an interaction with some creepy mannequins. However, something horrible happens as a result of this choice, leading Pink’s resentment towards Bella and Kreek to grow and for the Lonely to claim him. 

Justin ‘Think’ Noodles

An avatar of the Dark with ties to the Slaughter through his trusty pickaxe, Think was in some way related to the creature that Kreek killed. He tries to get revenge, but realises he could capitalise on it, and offers Kreek a deal - he’ll tell Kreek about other creatures he can make content about, in exchange for Kreek’s life when he retires. Kreek accepts, and Think something of a mentor to Kreek - however, this dooms the both of them. 

RB (Research of the Abnormal) Foundation Archival Employees: 

Russo Talks

The Head Archivist of the RB Foundation, and a 'world-building protagonist', so to speak. Has been at this for a few years, and is doing alright despite what his job really entails - but knows when to get serious. Has a lot of experience dealing with the entities. Is watching the events of Kreek’s life changing from afar, getting statements from those involved, and only getting involved if Kreek wishes he does. 

Deejay Monopoli

Russo’s assistant and Sabrina’s loving husband. A Hunter who became after Sabrina’s initial disappearance. He isn’t technically employed at the RB Institute, instead being a music producer full time, but he helps Russo out with the more…problematic missions. He finds out about Kreek’s predicament and takes it upon himself to ‘help’, becoming Kreek’s second mentor, as well as having a bet going with Think on Kreek’s fate. 

Sabrina Brite

DJ’s loving wife and Russo’s other assistant. She had an encounter with the Not-Them, but was revived by an artefact of the End and a researcher of cursed artefacts. She lived a double life for a while before DJ hunted her down and she returned to her original life. 

Not pictured: Jay Piercer

The head of the RB Foundation, and an avatar of the Eye (with connections to the Web..?). Tried to sacrifice Russo to the Eye. Failed. Not too important to Kreek’s story. 

[lovecolibri]

SaL anon here bestie and these last few days have been a ride, to say the least. I am not feeling very normal about anything going on myself, how are you?? We're not even on the same day as the episode and everything already feels unhinged. Masks?? Confessions?? BUDDIE HOLDING HANDS (in front of the tree)??!! I have never hoped so much (a mistake I know) that we are living in the best timeline and I suppose in less then 24 hours we'll see how insane it is to do that.

Anyway my "saving it for an episode emergency" wine is toast after today (todo list: replace that before tomorrow's episode) and thought I'd share my dumb spec for this episode. So not dumb is BT bones are obviously happening (like seriously, windex couldn't make it any clearer at this point) and I do think the Eddie-takes-care-of-Buck while treeman-cowers-in-fear is going to play a role in that, but I can't help thinking of the choice to have the mummy in Eddie's old bachelor party clothes. Like its kinda weird to have that specific outfit back in "masks" of all episodes, but maybe its not so much for the symbolism but just to remind the audience that that was a whole thing. Because what if one of our boys, via meditation or mummy curse or whatever (I'm not picky) actually remembers what happened that night?? And it, er, it wasn't exactly strictly platonic?? So one of them has to confront exactly what that means and we end up with (at least one) third party confession. I'd like to see it. But either way I feel like for sure next episode will end with Buck at least realizing he's been putting on a mask with his current relationship, and its covering up who he really wants, and I for one can't wait to see it. Less than 24 hours my friend, let's hope they don't do anything else insane before then 🥂.

Good morning friend! I'm glad you sent this last night because with the banger d20 ep last night and the pettiness and excitement about tonight, I just KNOW I'm gonna be put in post limit jail SO early, so I'm getting this out now while I can!

What a month these last couple days have been! I am feeling unhinged and damn is it hard not to get my hopes up! 🤪

I am *desperately* hoping that we see a bachelor party flashback in the next couple episodes! I would be happy with either Buck or Eddie, but not Buck if he's still clinging on to Tree #3, because I don't want the guilt spiral or him breaking it off because he "did something wrong". He really does for once need to recognize (on screen for the audience to share with him) that he is not being treated well in a relationship and leave. (Justice for the BT 1.0 breakup we SHOULD have had in 5a but FOX sucks.)

And now we have a scene (that to be fair I haven't watched because I like going in if not blind, at least not having watched big chucks of the episode yet) that once again shows Eddie knowing and loving Buck to his weird, superstitious core, and his BF being the odd man out, once again putting others down as a way to get laughs at work, and not knowing who is married to Buck's dad, Bobby, months after saving her and her and being together with Buck all this time. No wonder Oliver has been so excited! That man is a menace and petty bench and I love him SO MUCH.

Cheers my friend, I'm probably not going to have to drive home since my car is in the shop so I plan to have a drink and enjoy the chaos! Fun Halloween episode after 84 years, let's fucking gooooo! (Because the Denny stuff is not real, I do not SEE, I do not PERCEIVE.)

[lemonzestywrites]

Ahhhhh Zesty!! Okay okay here we go (I’m sending you LOTS)

🪢🪢🪢🪢🪢🪢🪢🪢🪢🪢🪢

🤫🤫🤫🤫🤫🤫🤫

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

🐮🐮🐮🐮🐮

🌲🌲🌲🌲

haha baz thank you!! always glad to see you in my inbox! i hope you enjoy!

🪢🪢🪢🪢🪢🪢🪢🪢🪢🪢🪢

But that was before all of this. Before their scenes and the phone calls and the fucking pictures (the bastard). Because all it took was the feeling of another hand around his cock, gently cooing him to a gorgeous orgasm, and now Eddie’s absolutely done for. His entire body aching for more and more and he can’t do jackshit about it. It’s been three weeks. Three weeks.  And Eddie is fucking dying. The only thing really keeping his sanity afloat is knowing that he can finally get a little bit of reprieve tonight. And yeah he woke up this morning with a bit of a preemptive morning excitement, but Buck doesn’t need to know that. (Somewhere, though, Eddie is already certain that somehow Buck already knows, a sixth sense of sorts already inclined to the kind of torture he’s putting Eddie through).  But it’s fine- it will be after tonight.

🤫🤫🤫🤫🤫🤫🤫

He feels like Buck probably wouldn’t make him wait here for any longer than 20 minutes. Though even that feels like it’s pushing it, Buck can be a little cruel, yeah, but he’s not sadistic. The idea of him making Eddie sit and kneel, waiting an hour for his arrival, feels pretty out of character. Eddie trusts him, though, and if he really gets uncomfortable, he’ll move or reposition.  But in the meantime, he waits. That sinking, sweet headspace comes back rolling back from the edges to encapture Eddie’s mind once more, a welcomed feeling he eagerly accepts. He relaxes again into his own body, tension slowly loosening from his muscles as he allows his mind to drift once more.

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

Something in him purrs hungrily, padding around in circles with an aching, eager desire. There’s a mountain of potential of untapped unknowns waiting just at the edge of his fingertips, and Buck- In a clearer mind, not overtaken by adrenaline and very impulsive choices, Buck might panic, let worry sink its claws into him, and listen to the voice that tells him this is a bad idea. Granted, there’s still a whispering of it there, but something else very much still lies there awaiting. A more powerful need, a more prevalent craving. Eddie lies there, skin flushed and covered in a thin sheen of sweat. His eyes half-lidded and pleasure-filled, blown out and still so desperate for more. Fuck, and Buck hasn’t even gotten inside of him yet. That thing so wild and primal inside of him preens at the haphazard thought. Buck’s cock throbs in his shorts, sending a shock down Buck’s spine as it brushes up along the front of Eddie’s own wet and soiled underwear.  Eddie gasps at the sensation, his entire body flinching at the contact.

🐮🐮🐮🐮🐮

Eddie’s ass is now coated in this gorgeous pink color, skin heated beneath Buck’s touch. It’s just not fair someone can be this attractive all the time. But hey, on the bright side, when you have a boyfriend that is as humble as Eddie about his looks, Buck is more than happy to be the one to constantly remind said aforementioned stunning boyfriend just how fucking hot he is. Buck smiles to himself as his hands slip further back up, enjoying the small little sounds that slip past Eddie as Buck gropes the tender flesh of his ass. Thank fucking god they don’t have work tomorrow.

🌲🌲🌲🌲

Eddie looks down at the papers all nicely stacked and signed in his lap, realizing a bit more what the weight of the words printed on them really means now. Something vague in its presence and definition settles across Eddie’s shoulders- an odd mix of uncertainty but also anticipation curling in his veins. “Three months of complete isolation,” Eddie sighs, a half-joking tone present between his words. “Not entirely,” Bobby says, and Eddie shoots his head up curiously, catching the slight smile in Bobby’s voice that did definitely not go unnoticed.

[cringecannon]

Post Tadpole'd Durge seems to brighten up so much after meeting this stranger (IE, remeeting their little assassin) and gets the gang to make them join the party by implying they help Durge's memory. Surely it's the least that can do to aid the Grove's savior! It's okay if there's not enough tents, they can share :)

The amnesia appeared real. They almost seemed sheepish. I don't mean to intrude, they'd said politely. Do I know you?

Know you? Bile rises in your throat as memories flash through your mind. They know you better than anyone. The taste of your flesh, your blood, the way your skin splits under their blade. Every scar, every mark, every pathetic, traumatic noise that could be drawn from your suffering.

You hadn't even noticed that your eyes had glazed over until they managed to catch your attention again. Concern is a strange look on them. You smile when they ask if you're alright. It's strained, forced. Too wide. You apologize. Once, yes. You knew them once. Acquaintances, nothing more. Their pale companion scrutinizes you behind them. You pray your nerves won't betray you.

The lie works. Their sudden look of excitement sends a bolt of fear through your spine. You are a godssend, they gush. Finally, someone who can shed some light on their situation. You'll be at the party, yes? You can talk more at camp.

With the Grove saved, you find yourself in an unfavorable position. You refused to go back to the city with the tieflings. Regardless, now that they knew where you were you couldn't stay here with the druids. You can't risk them looking for you, and if you don't show to the party odds are someone will see which direction you went and rat you out.

So you show. You stay to yourself, making polite conversation until the time is right. The festivities make a decent enough cover, but you feel eyes on you wherever you go. Multiple times you have to remind yourself to breathe and calm your nerves. When everyone is distracted, you'll make your move. You'll run into the woods, and run until they'll never be able to find you again.

That was the plan, anyway. You creep through the darkness, all too aware of an echo to your footsteps that should not be there. You anticipate the ambush and swing around, the point of your dagger pressed to the lean neck of their pale companion. Red eyes narrow dangerously, his own weapon pointed at your stomach. It's rude to leave without so much as a goodbye, he purrs. You don't humor the man with a response, instead giving him a warning. Leave now, and he can walk back into his camp with all his entrails still on the inside.

He moves closer, and you take a step back. There's a gleam of malice in his eye as he sneers. All bark and no bite. What do they see in you? You falter, gritting your teeth as your hands start to shake. He wastes no time and pounces on the opportunity. A cold hand finds your wrist, pulling your blade away from his vitals. The elf leans in close, eyes boring into yours as he makes a proposition.

You can leave. Run into the woods, try your luck. Hells, you could even kill him while you're at it. No witnesses. They will find you though. He doubts they'd be very pleased to find one of their allies dead.

On the other hand, you could come back to camp and he'd be more than happy to pretend this little incident never happened. Water under the bridge. He doesn't understand how yet, but clearly they think you may be useful. You may be able to shed some light on this situation, and he'll be damned if he lets such a pretty little opportunity go to waste. To him, the choice is obvious.

On the walk back to the party, you feel sick. Their face lights up when they lock eyes with you. The elf squeezes your wrist, thin fingers digging into your skin. The message is clear. Be good, play along. He stalks back to his tent and you glower at his back as your master leads you somewhere to talk. They've thought about this all day. They just can't wait to catch up.

[pen-observing]

GENSHIN HAREM MANHWA AU

Opening up the pages of the newest fantasy novel had you wishing for a more exciting life. Perhaps you should have been careful because the glowing light made sure to give you what you asked for. Underneath one sky, they all love you. As time passes, you will have to make a choice. Remember, choices are only for the brave and love must find you before you search for it. Out of the thirteen paths, just which one will you choose?

CHAPTER TWO OF SEVEN. characters: albedo & dottore (seperate) x gn! reader word count: 6.2k (3.6k & 2.6k respectively) warnings: these are vaguely connected but you can still understand them completely separately, the rest of the fic is in regular font.

[SERIES MASTERLIST]

ALBEDO - THE SPOUSE YOU GAVE UP YOUR TITLE FOR. HE IS GENTLE SUN THAT HELPS YOUR MEMORIES COME BACK.

Sometimes you think that falling droplets are a more intense feeling than an all-out rain pour. There is something about your head and arms and clothes being touched by that slow and gentle push from nature that leaves you feeling languid. Or do you feel so because you somehow remember you went through a designated door? – pushing and pulling your feet to go on while knowing every step means losing and gaining? Something isn’t right with you. But you feel like forgetting whatever it was you experienced makes this easier for you. And just what the fuck is that thing that is dripping on your arm? Droplets rarely fall in just one place and this is not a rain pour either. 

There is a distinct itch on your left eyebrow, and you scratch it as you rise. Hoping not to feel the drops anymore. There is only so long before something gentle becomes irritating. When you do rise it is with a heaviness in your bones. As if you were sleeping for a very long time on something uncomfortable. And once you try to stretch out your back – you realize that feeling is right. Who knows how many minutes or hours you spent sleeping on this sturdy floor?  

As your eyes begin to focus on things around you – you realize that on the right side is a big table. You felt the droplet hitting your arm over and over again because of something that looks like a glass tube. The table is larger than you while you still continue to sit down on the floor, but, even from this position, you can see just how many colors and papers and glass flasks take up all of that large space.  

You stand up and place your hands on the papers to look around more. Does this belong to you? Were you actually a scientist in this life researching something important? The notes are not in your handwriting, and you almost understand none of the words on those papers or on all of the boards written out with chalk. A shiver runs up your body and you realize just how cold and distilled this room really is. There are windows but they are closed and covered by curtains as well as books?  

A shiver runs up your body again and you hear the door hinges. As they open, sunlight draws its shape under your feet and you immediately feel warmer. You aren’t surprised that sunflowers seek the sun because you immediately turn around to feel that warmth again – and it is not just the sun that greets you – you notice sunlit hair and the outline of someone’s body.  

“Huh? Darling, what are you doing here?”  

Darling? Does this person with the calm voice see you as their darling? Their nickname for you is as tender as droplets themselves. It somehow feels warm. And while you should feel scared for not knowing this man, who is hurriedly walking over because of your confused face; you feel no fear. No malice. And no darkness. He holds your hands and you think how odd it is that he seems as warm as the sun, yet his hands are cold against your own. Maybe you feel so cold and sensitive because you just woke up?   Besides finding comfort in his cold but gentle hands, you catch sight of a ring on his finger as he examines your state.  

“How long have you been here?”  

His intonation remains the same but should you perhaps not have entered this room? His gaze sharpens as he catches sight of something. He tugs your hand towards him to extend it fully – and that makes you spot the same ring on your own hand.  

“This doesn’t look good.” he says, and you think how he just said your inner thoughts. Are you supposed to be married to this man? The dumb doors never give you a warning when you pass through them.  

You are absolutely frozen. Your mind is thinking over things too fast, trying to force itself to remember anything, but it fails. It fails you completely. And you continue to stare at him. 

“What is this? You are not trying to reassure me of your state? That is surprising.”  

He looks at you. His eyes are searching for something within you and when you blink; he looks away and sighs. Something tells you he knows that you are not his spouse – that you are not the actual person he loves and worries over so much.   His hands leaving your body and the step he takes back are enough of a confirmation of that. You miss the feeling of such proximity.  

“Tell me, do you feel cold? Perhaps any chills?”  “I uhm, yes. But I think that is just from sleeping in this room.”  “You slept in this room?” he says it with complete disapproval, but it is not directed towards either of you.  

“I will need to be quick. Leave this room on your own, go down the very end of the hall and turn to the right. When you enter that room, just sit completely still on the bed and wait for me to come.” 

After he says that, he bypasses you to the table and picks up those papers you touched earlier. You feel like an intruder with no reason to stay any longer, and with one glance back, you close the door and do as he instructed you to. 

And you almost regret it. This room is filled with sunlight. There are no traces of dust or any mess. But this is clearly the room of a couple. The shared closet and the shared large bed are enough for you to know. You still feel like an intruder but as another chill overtakes you, you realize it is better to sit down and rest no matter how out of place this makes you feel.   You sit on the bed, completely still. Somehow you are actually afraid to move.  

You look outside the window. It must be spring or summer. The trees and grass are completely vibrant in their green hues. Something tells you this house is fairly isolated. There seems to be a small town in the distance.   For 20 or so minutes, you sit still and look at the window to see what changes. Nobody walks towards this house and the small town continues to look like a painting instead of a living and breathing thing with people who lead their lives there. You grow impatient and plant your feet on the ground to rise up and walk closer to the window; halfway through the door opens again and you quickly sit down to make it seem like you were not about to break his instructions.  

“It is futile to pretend like you were not just about to get up.” There go your hopes. 

“Extend your hand.”   You eye him and extend your hand in his direction. He looks unimpressed while holding a white packaging in his hands.  “Your other hand. The one the liquid touched.”   “Oh.” 

You extend it, and he sits down next to you with the weight shifting. 

“Luckily, the liquid only dripped down on the upper part of your arm. Not on your face, or worse, in your mouth.”  He takes some white cream on the tip of his index finger and brings it to your arm. When you look at it, you notice for the first time how red it got with a small centre part that can only be described as maroon.

“You are lucky this didn’t completely break the first layer of your skin. This way, you will only be feverish for a few days once I apply this cream on you.” 

He is completely calm and you don’t even think of asking what could have happened if that liquid actually dripped down on your head instead. Something tells you it is better not to know the details. But... just.. He was so comforting when he first touched you in that room, and now it simply feels like any regular doctor appointment but inside of a room that should be the most intimacy ridden place in this house. It leaves a bad taste in your mouth. This feeling. The fact that you really do not know this man but wish to have him close to you. That you wish he would treat you as if no chance has taken place.  

But he is calm, and smart and calculating. He seems like the rational type who has no qualms about any of this. The cream stings your arm, but you find it more bearable than your need to be coddled by this man.  

“There. Now all you need to do is rest.”   “Thank you..”  “Albedo. That is my name. I never thought I would have to reintroduce myself to the love of my life, but we have been through so..” he stops himself. “Nevermind.” 

You do not know what to say.  

“Just make sure you rest in this room. I will bring you fever medicine, food and anything else you might need.”  “Thank you, again. I am sorry I look like your significant other but I have no memories of you or..this home.”  “I will sleep on the couch until you remember or...whatever it is fate will play next. Are you sure you absolutely have no memories of me? Or your ‘previous’ life?” 

You nod your head. It stings. 

“I see. The evening is here. As soon as you feel the fever, call me. Until then.”  

The evening casts a cold blue over the sky before it completely turns dark. The town which you see through the window seems more alive now that you can see the few lights turned on. The bed you climb into reminds you of your current situation. You find the perfect spot and you already know it is perfect because your body made these small dents to accommodate it – and it just makes you feel like this situation (yes situation, not life) was not something you should be thrust into. You are an intruder in the worst way possible. It is with those thoughts that you actually feel the fever which overtakes you. You do not want to shout, so with a shaky but regular voice you call out his name – you call out ‘Albedo’ and it rolls off your tongue far easier than you wish.

You expected that you would have to call his name more than once, but while you do not hear his footsteps – you hear the door opening. For some reason, Albedo didn’t change his clothes. Did he even sleep? He didn’t take blankets from this room either. Maybe he is working into the night?  

There is a tray in his hands. It has two glasess of water, a syrup and what you can only describe as a plethora of pills and vitamins in the center. He is a meticilous man. You think how he always worries too much. The medicine he gives you is so bitter you forget about that thought reeking of familiarity when it really shouldn’t be.  

“By your face I can see you are still a baby about the bitterness. Here, drink this water. I would bring you milk but it might taste even worse after that pill.” There is a soft smile on his face. Reminiscence is a luxury sometimes you realize. 

“Albedo, how long do you think I will have to stay in bed?”  “Around three to four more days. You do not know this, but you were lucky I was the one who found you. My skills in alchemy are said to be grander than most.”  “Alchemy? So that was your lab!”   “Yes, I still do not know why you were sleeping there. Do you have any idea why?” 

You’re sweating from the covers and the fever going down. His pills work quickly, and your head is clearing up.  

“I only know a few things about myself.” 

He looks around and with some hesitation, sits down on the bed not allowing you to get up.  “Could you tell me what you do know? It might help us both.”  “I know that... I am an intruder in this domesticity. At least that is something.”  “Even a slight change is an intruder in domesticity we built. It becomes easily noticeable. Please, go on.” 

Was that his way of reassuring you?  

“I just know I keep switching places. There are doors that greet me and that I sometimes run towards but.. I have no way of knowing what is behind them. I have a feeling I was asleep in your lab, because every time I switch places, my eyes are closed? I think.”  “Interesting.” 

Albedo brings a hand to his chin.

“Could we say your eyes being closed is a trigger for this phenomenon? Are you aware how many times you switched places? Do you usually regain your memories?” 

Albedo is a curious man you realize. His questions are never-ending. 

“I think I...at least regain parts of memories of the people I play? Well, live. This isn’t theatre but...” you are getting sleepy now and your words are growing quieter. “but at least I will stop being an impostor. And no, I am not aware how many places I have changed so far.”   “I see. I will give this more thought and time.” 

Albedo brings up the covers to your shoulders and tucks you in with that same reminiscent look in his eyes.  

“Please rest up. Your eyes are getting watery from a lack of sleep.”  

And you fall asleep with that image of Albedo in your mind. The Albedo that cares for you. In all his gentleness.  

The next morning you wake up in a very different way which makes your heart race. Through your sleepy state, you hear the door burst open and suddenly something jumping on your bed. And then it jumps right off, even faster.   You continue to lie down, but your watery eyes make out a big blur of something red. Something that immediately approaches your head once it sees you rubbing your eyes. And once you move your hand away, you are met with wide, curious eyes who are looking at you without blinking.  

“You’re awake! Yey!”  

You realize this blur of red is just a very jumpy child celebrating the fact that they get to see you. You should know this little girl, but despite the fact that you do not, you move your hand to put some of her hair back in place.  

“I am!” You try to match some of her enthusiasm.  

“Big brother Albedo said you would be sleeping and that I shouldn’t disturb you because you are sick. But, I snuck out while he was making me breakfast!”  

You can’t help but to giggle. “I see.” Behind her, you can see Albedo at the door.  

“Do you think your big brother noticed that you left so soon?”  She laughs and says how she hopes he did not, but it is interrupted by Albedo touching her shoulder.  

“Well, I am sorry to say that your hopes turned out to be empty. I told you to stay away because we have a patient on our hands Klee.”  “So? I always make them feel better when they catch a cold! I wanted to help again!” 

She is so earnest and full of energy.  

“And how will you do that now that you are here might I ask?” 

Klee looks around and thinks. “By hearing stories! That always helps. I want to hear my favorite one!”  “Klee, I don’t think that is a good idea right now.”  

Before Albedo can take her out of the room, she jumps on your bed again.   “Oh please! Please tell the story of how you fell in love with my brother because he was a genius! And then how you two had to escape your strict father and how you gave up your status to marry him!” 

You freeze up. Albedo rushes to take her off your bed.  

“No, big brother! Please! Miss Lisa wants more details. Please tell me the story again!”  “Klee, it is time for medicine. Cooperate with me so that we help the sickness go away, okay?”  

He takes her off your bed, but she grabs onto your hand instead.  

“Tell me!”  

You look at her and the look you give Albedo lets him know you will handle this.  

“Klee, I did not fall in love with your brother because he was a genius. I fell in love with him because he was kinder than anyone I met.” 

She laughs and lets go of your hand. Albedo finds that the perfect moment to help guide her out of the room.  

“You have your answer now Klee. Come on, I will tell you the details while you play with the dog.”  

Albedo gives you a smile and a nod to which you nod back. It means understanding but...despite the moment, you still feel like an outsider. Albedo and you own a dog? Until when will everything be a revelation to you?  

Albedo enters your room again while carrying lunch. You’ve realized just how much of a good cook he is.  

“Klee suddenly dropped by; I apologize. She was passing by to carry a letter and decided to visit us. If I knew, I would have told you.”  “I understand. It is not your fault. Your little sister seems like a very energetic girl.”  “Ah yes. You know, it is odd how similar you are to the person you say you are impersonating. You, they, said that during our wedding too when she dropped the cake.”  

The domesticity gets broken again. You wish to know so much, and Albedo doesn’t do anything but reminisce.  

“Albedo, could you tell me the story you told Klee? It might help my memories. I might be the person that you love again.”  “You already are that person, albeit, without remembering me.” 

He catches you off guard as he sits down next to you.  

“If that is your hypothesis, I will tell you.” Albedo places a warm cup of tea in your hands.  

“I told you of my alchemy skills before. With them, I managed to gain a patron when I was struggling, and that patron just so happened to be your father.”  

He watches you take a sip. 

“Because of my genius, I was offered a place in your home. With your father being a duke and all, the mansion was large enough for me to live and research there without disturbing anyone. Back then, at the start, my unknown origin did not matter to anyone. I was a genius and that was more important than anything else.”  

Albedo sees the way your hands seem to curl up around the cup. 

“By chance, you happened to stumble upon my lab. We will call it your curious and bratty nature at play. And before I knew it, we were in love and confident it would be accepted. Unfortunately, as soon as you told your father...It didn’t matter that I was a genius – I was unworthy of the duke’s child.”  

He finally looks up at you instead of your hands. You are listening intently. Albedo does not know if your memories are returning but he cannot doubt the love in your eyes. How it looks just like it did before, on the day you stood up to your father.  

“When I packed up my things, you refused to let me leave without you. In short, we escaped that night to this small town. Lived in it while I worked as an alchemist and doctor, so that we could move away and build this house right here.”  

The cup in your hands proves to be too distracting for you, so you leave it on the tray instead. 

“After a while, you sent your father a letter to officially confirm you gave up your title and inheritance. I would say your greedy cousins now see you as a hero for that.”  

He takes off his gloves and holds your arm, expecting the same place again.  

“It is healing up quite nicely.”  

And you can’t stand it. The memories that rush back to you, his cold hands on your body, this proximity and domesticity that makes you restless. His closeness makes you feel warm again and you know it is definitely not the fever this time.  

“I don’t regret running away with you. Even if my father said you were not human Albedo.”  “Ah, have the memories truly returned to you? You are not surprised by my hands being cold anymore either.”  

You nod as tears swell up in your eyes. You finally remember this. You are finally in the place you are supposed to be.  

“I cannot believe you have made me wonder if you loved me. Didn’t you promise I would never have doubts?”   “Oh, were you foolish enough to ask if I loved you? You should have asked yourself if you would be able to handle it if I didn’t hold back my love for you in your current state.”  

And he says that with all the gentleness of the sun; of the droplets you love so much. He says it with a playful smile on his face because your lover has always been a tease. He loves you. He loves you more than anything. You just wish this fate didn’t toy with you like this. Just as Albedo places a kiss on your collarbone, you are met with another door.  

And this time, you are hesitant to move towards it. 

DOTTORE - THE MAN WHO BECOMES A SINNER FOR YOU. THE MAGIC MIRROR URGES YOU TO HATE HIM BECAUSE YOU ARE NEVER ALLOWED TO KNOW THAT HE TURNED BACK TIME FOR YOU.

Is this the first time that this has happened? When you are back in this idyllic white room, it makes you forget almost everything; but never have you stood still when a door manifested before. You remember running and grabbing onto the handle as if it was the only hopeful thing to exist. But never have you stood so...still. So hesitant to approach this novelty.  

It is like this door represents a certain darkness that you realize hides amongst this world. It is intimidating; looks like it towers over you no matter the fact that you are at least fifteen steps away from it. It looks grandiose unlike anything you have seen so far. To think that a door can have such an intricate design, with vines of silver coating the corners; with a blue glow around the outline – it still holds you in place.   Maybe if you stand still long enough, you will be able to avoid venturing inside the life that hides on the other side of it? It is not cowardice – well, even if that was the true name – you just consider it something to be visited later. When bravery and spitefulness overtakes you perhaps.   So you wait. Patience is a virtue that might manifest a different door in front of you. Or behind you? You look around, orbiting around yourself for something different to invite you in.  

But sadly, instead of a new hope – the silver vines from the door come alive, they wrap around your body like harp strings – and you are pulled towards that blue. The pull itself does not hurt; it just makes you panic. Whatever hides behind this door you will have to deal with, that much is painfully clear.  

With a deep breath, you twist the handle. The blue glows even brighter and it makes you gasp. That is the last thing you remember.  

The sensation of gasping proves itself to be more painful than usual. You wish you hadn’t done it. It feels like your lungs are on fire and you are coughing with small tears decorating your eyelashes. You don’t know where you are, but you are sure it is a big room by the way even this seems to echo.   Nobody is speaking, but there is a hand at your back – rubbing soothing circles into it to calm you down.   Your coughing eventually dies down and you are able to open your eyes. The world around you seems blurry, but the first sight you see is your lap and a pristine white tablecloth. Instead of looking behind you to see the person that is helping you, your gaze shifts upwards and across all the cutlery and food; across that stretched out table that seems to swallow you up – is a man with blue hair and round glasses looking at you in endearment. He doesn’t seem worried about you – he seems enamoured. His chin rests in his hand as his iceberg eyes look at you in such an adoring way you can’t help but scoff and turn your gaze towards your lap again.   The least he could do is ask if you are okay. He shouldn’t be free of worry for you. Even complete strangers would be. Is he too reliant on the servant rubbing your back? Or is he just so above it all?  

“Oh, my love,” his voice is deeper than you imagined it would be. Your shoulders tense up as he continues to talk. “I know that is your favorite food but please refrain from consuming it so quickly you end up choking on it and worrying me.”  

Bullshit. He didn’t look worried at all.  

The warm hand on your back disappears and you realize it was a servant that helped you as they walk back into the hallway. You wish to thank them but the tense atmosphere and your irritated throat make you keep quiet.   The man across from you taps his wine glass and the sound just means a ring for your attention.  

“To our anniversary, my love.” His voice is sickeningly gentle. 

Anniversary? This man with iceberg eyes and a misty voice is your lover? And this whole ordeal is just a dinner to celebrate that anniversary?   If he really loved you – he would have realized immediately that you did not know him and that you had no recollection of any love living and extending in this place. But he looks at you with love, impatient to see you bring up your own glass above your head for a toast.  

You do it. You raise the glass and mumble ‘happy anniversary’ and all the while, you think, how dumb it is for your glasses not to clink against one another. Even if you did not remember him – it is utterly foolish to sit this far apart while talking about love. 

After the dinner, he walked over to your side and leaned against the table. That closeness makes you feel uneasy. It makes you note just how intense his gaze really is. Across the table, you only saw the depth flicker but like this, the intensity makes you break and you look away.  

You do not even know his name, and yet, this man is taking hold of your hand, rolling down your glove and pressing kisses from your knuckle, over your wrist, and all the way up to your elbow. Then, with a sigh of pleasure, he drops your hand down and you can’t help how you squirm. He pulls your glove back up and rests his hand on your head.  

“My dearest,” another sweet nickname in that deep voice of his, “make sure you get enough rest tonight.”  

With that, he leaves the room. Are you two not supposed to share a living space? Why did he say it like that? Shouldn’t you two go into shared quarters? It surprises you. The way that intense presence is fine with leaving you alone like this.  

The same servant walks into the room and says she will escort you to your room and run a warm bath.  

At least this way, you will not be lost and looking for your room in a manor you know nothing about. 

While washing your body in water that seems too perfect to fit your needs, you realize it is a bit odd to be so calm about this current state. You were more scared of the door leading to this place instead of being in it.  

Was the person you are supposed to be this sullen? And this calm? Maybe you are just acting out a script they wrote?  This state of...celebrating an anniversary (numbered what? You do not know.) and then leaving for separate rooms doesn’t seem as anything unusual. The room this maid took you to had traces of life for just one. It had traces of only you.   Ornaments according to your own taste. The organised bookshelves and the desk – even the curtains all seemed like the exact choice you would make.   It didn’t seem like anyone else’s tastes were part of these corners – but why? 

Even this bed you are lying in after the bath – it fits you perfectly. Nothing is lacking. Even the sheets are scented according to what brings you pleasure. It is as if everything was perfectly ordained by your desires.  

You have to wonder if that man wants to enrapture you. 

After so much thinking, you imagined this world would have let you sleep and ‘get some rest’ as your alleged lover put it. But instead, when you close your eyes, you see the same blue glow that dragged you in. And in an instant, sleepiness leaves your body as you jump up out of the bed.  The blue glow this time is radiating from the mirror. No matter how hard you look at it, you do not see yourself reflected. Matter of fact, nothing is reflected. It only glows and this time you willingly drag your feet towards it.  

Your hand touched the surface of it, but nothing happens. You are not plunged or tugged towards another fragmented scene. Instead, the mirror feels cold and you can hear a voice talking to you. 

“Oh you, the blessed path seeker,   Remember that he has broken the rules.   Oh you, the choice maker,   Remember that you have to hate him, for the fear of fools.” 

When that voice says he – the only image your mind is able to conjure up is of that dinner. How his head was resting in his hand and how he looked at you. He has to be the man you must hate. Why? What rules has he broken? You do not know.  

But hating him does not seem like a hard task to fulfil.  

When the glow stops, you return to your bed strangely calm.  

In the morning you do not wake up by your own violation. You wake up because your maid moves away the curtains and your needed rest gets interrupted by the dimmed sun. Before you can rub away the sleep from your eyes, she opens your closet and starts sorting through clothes. 

“Lord Dottore has requested that you join him for some morning tea.”

So his name is Dottore? And they refer to him as a Lord?  

“Don’t you just find this brew excellent for this morning my dearest?”

He never seems to run out of sweet nicknames to call you by. And you just grow to hate them more as they continue to pile up. But he is right, this tea is excellent. He probably knows more about brews and taste than you – but as long as you enjoy drinking it – the tea is perfectly fine.   Plus, this garden pavilion is not only decorated in luxury, but by the autumn leaves falling down and the dimming sun that woke you up. They are an enjoyable sight that proves to make you avoidance of Dottore’s eyes even easier. 

“I have to agree with you.” 

Dottore seems reminiscent of something. Completely giving into the feeling. Almost wistful. 

“Ah, you are not using a nickname for me. Tell me my darling, have I done something to upset you? Was perhaps the anniversary celebration not to you liking?”  

And you freeze. Wouldn’t admitting you do not remember large parts of the anniversary put you in danger? Dottore seems perfectly calm while talking to you like this but you can sense just how on edge the servants are around him. As if he could grow impulsive at any second from the smallest thing.  

You try to scramble your brain for a coherent answer, but it just so happens that a male servant saves you by quickly approaching your table.  

“Lord Dottore, there is an emergency concerning Sir Ragnvindr! We need instructions on-”  

Dottore’s cup of tea flies directly at the man’s feet and it shatters. The grey liquid spilling everywhere makes for an odd sight to behold. It shocks you.   Dottore, on the other hand, acts as if nothing just happened. He crosses his arms and speaks in that same calm voice.  

“What did I say about anyone interrupting me during my private moments?”  

He leans back against the chair and looks at the servant mockingly.  

“What did you say? Sir Ragnvindr being an emergency?”, he seems to be smirking as his voice lulls along. “That man will never be a serious emergency for you to break our peaceful time. Deal with Ragnvindr on your own before I decide to come.” 

The servant picks up the large pieces of the teacup before he scurries away. You look down at your lap instead and mumble the name Diluc Ragnvindr over twice.   Dottore simply looks at you as his smirk stretches out.  

“What is this? Do you know the man named Diluc Ragnvindr?”  “I... think I do...” This whole situation is unclear to yourself. You seem to remember the name but not the face of that individual.   “Might I ask how? Wait, you don’t have to tell me, he must have been one of your toys before you met me. Am I right?” 

Dottore seems really pleased with himself. Does his arrogance know no bounds?  

“I think I ..” your mind only draws one scene. Someone is holding your hand and guiding you – so you answer honestly. As honestly as you can amidst all of the confusion. 

“I think I .. danced with him once.” 

Dottore clicks his tongue.  

“My, my, he must be a truly talented dancer if you remember him for such a meaningless thing.”  

But by the way Dottore stands up and invites you to waltz in the garden – you doubt he truly finds it meaningless.  

After that, Dottore does not disturb you for the rest of the day. When you open a book to read – he does not have a request to see you. When you eat your lunch, it is by yourself in the garden. When you take a walk, he doesn’t randomly appear to join you as much as you convinced yourself that man would find a way to ruin your fun. And even as dinner approaches, you end up sitting all by yourself at that large table. It doesn’t feel right to look at so much food for just one person, so you only end up taking a few bites before retreating to your room for some sleep.  

You did wake up before you wished this morning after all.   This night – there is no blue hues that could wake you or disturb your sleep. Nor is there any voice to strike fear and order. You fall asleep without any issues; but you awake in the middle of the night to the feeling of your sheets being pulled.   No, they are not being pulled, it just feels like someone is gripping on them behind your back. Their hand stays in the same position, rustling the fabric and you hear someone’s voice breaking.  

“Why were we cursed like this?” the voice asks. You keep your eyes closed and pretend to still be asleep.   The voice belongs to Dottore, but it is just a broken-down whisper.  

“I turned back time for you out of love. And they considered me sinful.”  

He has done what? He turned back time for you? What does this mean? Is Dottore the reason you keep opening all of those doors? Is he the reason for this fragmentation?  

He rests his head on your bed and now his voice is even more muffled.  

“And yet, I was punished. It doesn’t matter that you are here with me. They cursed me. Made you forget me or hate me over and over again. As soon as you start to love me – you revert back to someone who has no memories.”  

He lifts his head up.  

“Like you did..at that anniversary dinner. Oh, what must I do? What must I do to have you come back to me completely? Tell me!”  

You think that even he himself is unaware who he is talking to. He doesn’t seem to be aware of the fact that his voice is painfully hoarse. And, when you turn around to look at him, because you cannot deal to hear such pain and ignore it – you realize that he is even unaware of the tears that coat his cheeks.  

His iceberg eyes light up when you reach to wipe them away.  

“My foolish Dottore,” , you forget about the voice from the mirror. You forget about the hatred. “You have to make up for your sins.”  

You look at him with love. And as he gets off his knees to pull you closer, as his hand touches your own – you are being pulled by the silver strings once more.   Dottore is a sinner. He has sinned for you. And until his repentance is done – you will continue to be separated from him. 

a/n: kekekeke i love dottore but he should suffer. And it is fun to make him like this. I hope u enjoyed it! This took me so much work omg

TAGLIST: (send an ask to be added)

@isasimp , @irisxiel , @sunsethw4 , @sketcheeee , @thelonelyarchon, @magicalink , @ladycoleigh , @luvr-exe , @yuus3n ,

[gossipsnake]

TIMING: April 19, 2024, immediately before this LOCATION: Airport / Airplane PARTIES: Anita (@gossipsnake), Metzli (@muertarte), & Xóchitl (@vanishingreyes) SUMMARY: Anita, Metzli and Xóchitl make their way to Ireland!

Despite having very little context for why this impromptu trip was occurring, Anita was quite excited to head off to Ireland - not just because of the vague promise of seeing Siobhan naked.  Life had been so hectic over the past few months and she had begun to question the choices she made that had led her to this town, and all of the complications that came with living in Wicked’s Rest. A trip, a chance of scenery and pace, felt like exactly what she needed to refresh. So while it seemed odd when Siobhan had invited her to go visit her hometown but the inherent curiosity to learn more about her strange and beautiful co-worker was really all she needed to say yes. The fact that Xóchitl and Metzli had also been invited was really just icing on the cake. 

The semester was nearing its end and Anita had been able to cash in a few favors from the other professors in her program to cover her classes while she’d be away. She had packed nearly twice as many bags as Metzli, not wanting to be in a situation where she didn’t have the perfect outfit for whatever activities they might be partaking in. It took a bit of rearranging, but there had still been plenty of room in the car to accommodate Xó’s bags. After all, it made more sense to carpool to the airport. 

Knowing that Metzli was feeling a bit uneasy about the idea of going on an airplane, Anita had set the radio to their favorite station for the drive to the airport - turned off. “Have either of you looked up the area where we’re going to much? Seems like more country than city living. Pretty sure the whole state of Maine is bigger than the whole country, though, so I’m sure we’ll have time to see a bit of everything if we want.” 

_ 

“There are going to be too many people.” Metzli rocked idly in the back, grumbling half to themself and half to their companions in the front. Normally they’d have taken the passenger seat, but given they were leaving during the day, the best protection from the sun that they had would be in the back, where the windows had been tinted perfectly for them. They were grateful for that, finding so much relief in the way Anita had been so accommodating. She even went as far as to keep the noise to a minimum, further adding to the comfort they were experiencing. 

It felt important and necessary. Not just because Metzli needed it, but because Xóchitl still didn’t know their true nature. There were enough variables to keep the vampire from relaxing, but because Anita knew them so well, they were rolling their wrists contentedly and sipping on a bag of blood as if it were a capri-sun. Another of Anita’s accommodations. She insisted on the sunglasses too, and Metzli agreed so they could hide their eyes. Though, something told them it gave her some sort of amusement. Probably the snort and a laugh she released. That had to be a clue. 

“How much longer?” They grumbled again, taking a sippy break. “I have been too anxious about flying in this metal bird to do Googling on Ireland. It is not natural to be in the sky in metal.” A shiver raked up their spine and they groaned into a sulk, continuing to sip to alleviate their irritation. 

_ 

She knew that she could use some spontaneity in her life. Not that Xóchitl had been non-spontaneous recently, but still. Going on a trip to Ireland was something she hadn’t done before. Anita and Metzli were coming too, which only added to the fun. She’d immediately agreed when Anita had suggested carpooling, because that just meant less unnecessary complexity. Emilio had agreed to watch over Esperanza, so there was that taken care of, even though Xóchitl would’ve liked to take her, and even though that would’ve helped quell any sort of anxiety she had, Esperanza was better off with Emilio and Teddy and Perro.

“We’re here for you, Metzli. Just concentrate on that.” She offered them a small smile from the front seat. “You can wear headphones on the plane, and you’ll be safe.” Xóchitl knew that she couldn’t technically guarantee that, but even just mentioning it had to be some sort of helpful. Hopefully.

“Yeah,” she nodded at Anita. “I looked it up a tiny bit because I like research, what can I say? But it’s more country-like, but we should go to a city sometime if we get the chance. I just want to see an authentic Irish sheep. Which sounds silly, perhaps, but you’ve got to appreciate the little things. Plus I want to try Bailey’s Irish Creme and also whatever other classic alcohols are there.” Another turn back to Metzli, “it’s wild and not natural, yeah, but it’s also a miracle, according to some. I know it’s how Mama and Manman went to México and also Haiti, and it was more efficient than driving or taking a boat. Besides, I brought snacks.” She tapped her bag. 

_ 

“We’re close. Not much further to the parking area,” Anita reassured Metzli. There were a lot of things that she wanted to say to Metzli, both to poke a bit of fun at them and to try and calm them further. After all, people always said normalcy helped calm people when they were anxious about a new experience, and normalcy for them was Anita poking fun. But she’d have to be careful, not just in the car but for the duration of the trip, with what she said around Xóchitl. Especially since Xó would still be able to understand her if she switched to speaking in Spanish. By this point, having known her for some time, Anita was fairly certain she was as human as humans came. A shame, really, but the reality of the situation. Not only was she exceptionally human but she was unaware of the fact that she was sitting in a car with two fanged beings. 

“It’s not natural to be in a metal carriage driving around but you do that. You’ll see, the plane isn’t anything to be scared about.” Anita did not want to be dismissive about their concerns but she also wanted to show them that this was a normal thing to be doing. “I definitely want to check out some of the city life,” she agreed, turning her attention to Xó, “not sure they’re well known for tequila but I suppose the trip would warrant a departure from my drink of choice to test out these whiskeys they are supposed to be famous for.” 

As they passed a sign noting that the airport was only a few more miles away, Anita relayed the information to Metzli in the back seat. “I’m also excited about exploring the countryside too, though. I don’t think they have a particularly diverse ecosystem but I’m interested to see what kind of insects might be around where we’ll be staying. Wouldn’t that be fun, Met? Going on some nature hikes. We could go at night, too, to get a sense of what kind of nocturnal creepy crawlies they’ve got.” 

_ 

“Yes, but the metal carriage is closer to the ground and is not in the sky!” Metzli softly exclaimed, not really going into a true yell. They knew better than to raise their voice at their friends, especially when they’d done nothing wrong. It was just the anxiety and overall change in routine that put their mood on edge. They sulked, their head sinking in embarrassment. “I am sorry. I will not yell again. New things is hard.” With that clarity and awareness, Metzli clung to it and began to rock themself in their seat, counting up to eight before repeating themself. It was their safe number, and each one leading up to it would get them through the new experience. 

Two of which were sitting up in front, while a few remained at home and a few others resided in Ireland. For now. 

“I appreciate both of you. Almost forget about my phonies.” With another deep breath and a pat to their bag, the bristling at the back of Metzli’s neck began to settle, and taking a final gulp from their pouch relaxed them completely. “Crawlies are good. Will you help me take pictures on my phone? I want to have memories to show Leila.” They paused, thinking of all the things their partner had recommended they do on their first trip outside of home. “She say I should also take photos of myself. Maybe we can do this with the whiskey.” Their head tilted curiously as they searched through their memories with their roommate. “Have I had this, Anita?” If they had, Metzli couldn’t recall it. Then again, they rarely asked questions when Anita put a drink in their hand. 

“Are we there yet?”

_ 

“You don’t have to say sorry, and that wasn’t yelling, promise.” She still felt a need to reassure Metzli at every turn, to make sure, perhaps, that they didn’t retreat into themself again, like they had when they’d first met. But right now wasn't the time to focus on things like that – on things that could be seen as a bad omen, or anything else. Not that Xóchitl was going to voice that particular train of thought right now (or ever, but right now seemed especially necessary).

“New things are very hard, and sometimes a lot of shit. But we’re here, and so it’ll be good.” Xóchitl would’ve winced at how falsely optimistic she sounded, because it wasn’t who she was (not really, though she supposed she was more of a cheerful person than she ever would’ve admitted, which, ick. Maybe.)

Still, she wanted to be there for Anita and Metzli even if she didn’t understand exactly why she was going to Ireland, but a trip wouldn’t be bad, right? It was even something that she’d wanted to do, and since Emilio hadn’t taken her up on her offer to go traveling.

“We’ll take lots of pictures, happy to help you, and to take some of you and for you too. My… boyfriend probably wants photos too.” Xóchitl rolled her shoulders back. “We’re not there yet, but we’ll make it work. Okay? That’s a promise.”

_ 

It wasn’t long after that Anita pulled her car into the long-term parking lot at the airport. They were a bit earlier than she would have been arriving for a flight by herself, but she didn’t want there to be any unexpected stresses that came up. “Okay, Aer Lingus is flying out of Terminal C. I already pre-paid for checked bags, so we just need to drop our stuff off at the main counter before going through security.” She took the keys out of the car after she parked, then looked back at Metzli, “People are going to be very dumb and annoying, okay? Just stand in between me and Xó so dumb people don’t bother you.” 

The airport was expectedly crowded, full of dumb people all pushing forward to get to their gate only to sit around for an hour before their flight even boarded. Anita had been through many airports before, but she knew that the experience was going to be a lot for Metzli, no matter how much she tried to prepare them. As they were loading their items up on the security belt, the woman behind Anita kept trying to push forward and shove her in the middle of their group. “What time is your flight?” She asked, somewhat innocuously to the woman after her second attempt to squeeze in. “It’s at 3,” the woman huffed back in response. 

Anita smirked, intentionally taking a long time to take off her shoes so Metzli and Xó could go through security ahead of her. “That’s fantastic. Sounds like you have plenty of time to calm your ass down, stop being a maldito pendejo, and still get to your flight with time to spare.” The group managed to get to their gate without incident, however, their journey was just getting started. 

_ 

Anita was perfect to have around when there were crowds involved. She had an intimidating energy that parted people to the side without her needing to speak. Although, she always did take the opportunity to impart a little vicious wisdom on some people. It made Metzli feel seen and taken care of, like they finally knew what family meant. What it felt like. 

They hardly minded the way the cool lights overhead buzzed and thrummed when they were required to take off the phonies for security. It felt pretty easy, for the most part. Their fake passport worked and Metzli had mentally prepared to manipulate the crew to let them through, but they were fortunate enough to not need that ability. Sometimes using it was inevitable, they knew that. It just felt better to not have the need to control people. They knew what it felt like to have everything taken. All too well, in fact.

“Thank you.” Quickly, Metzli took their bag and placed the phonies back on their head. Everything muffled instantly and a sense of calm surrounded them with warmth. “One…two…three…four…” Metzli counted quietly to themself, absentmindedly reaching for Anita’s hand once she stood next to them. Their thumb massaged the back of her hand, a pattern that kept in time with their counting. It kept them peaceful, from biting anything. Well, besides the inside of their cheek.

_ 

Anita had a good point about people being very dumb and annoying – there certainly seemed to be a higher concentration of that in airports. If she could help Metzli not have to deal with that as much, then that alone would be a win itself. Finding the gate wasn’t too bad either – and not that Xóchitl believed in good luck signs, not really (so much of her life would be different if those were real), but the three of them moving smoothly through the airport and finding their gate was seemingly seamless, and she’d take that win.

“Do either of you want drinks or snacks? I brought some, but figured we could always get more if we want. It’s overpriced but sometimes chips from airports taste even better than ones from the store.” Xóchitl shrugged. Thankfully, they’d be called in one of the first groups, if not the first group, which would undoubtedly make all of this easier. The sooner she could get a glass of wine, the better.

Without missing a beat after Metzli grabbed her hand, Anita reached over and linked her free arm in with Xóchitl’s as the group made their way to the gate. After finding the most secluded seating area possible near their gate, which was still not all that secluded, she pulled out her phone to see when their boarding time was. “Have you ever known me to say no to a drink?” She teased with a grin, “That’s one of the best parts about airports, if you ask me, there is almost always an open bar somewhere.” 

_ 

“They should be calling our group to board in less than thirty minutes.” Anita almost noted that was the expected time provided there were no unforeseen delays, given how often those seemed to happen during air travel. But it seemed like an unnecessary possibility to speak out into the universe. “If you two want to hold down the fort here, I’ll go get us all a round of mezcal?” It was a question mainly to Metzli, as Anita wasn’t sure if they would want a drink or not. She had packed a few travel sized bottles of blood for them since it wasn’t exactly a short flight, and was thrilled that they didn’t raise any suspicions going through security. Then she turned to Xó, with a warm smile, “And whatever flavor of deliciously overpriced chips your heart desires.” 

After getting everyone’s orders in, Anita went off to the nearest bar. Which was within spitting distance, practically. It didn’t take long for her to return with several overpriced libations, a few salty treats, and a few sweet ones. That was what humans did, wasn’t it? Bought way too many snacks for a trip that was undoubtedly going to provide them with some more snacks? 

_ 

There was no rejection Metzli’s part. In fact, when Anita let go and went on her search, they went on their own. A single round of mezcal wasn’t going to be enough for them and their dead body. They needed far more than most to feel any of alcohol’s influence, and so they found themself at the same bar Anita found. Only, they were across the way where she couldn’t see them. 

“Five tequilas in those little glasses.” They tapped the bar, “Please.” In a matter of seconds, they were placed in front of them, and they drank them in rapid succession. “And four more, please.” The bartender gave Metzli a look, and they stiffened. “They are for my friends.” A nod. “Here.” With four bills on the table, the bartender shrugged and gave Metzli what they requested on a platter. “Keep change. Goodbye.” They looked more than happy at the money, and without saying another word, the vampire rejoined their friends. 

“These are for me.” The platter was placed on the table with a light clack, and they realized three shots between two people was uneven. With a grumble, they sacrificed one of theirs so Anita and Xóchitl could each have two. “Better.” Metzli smiled awkwardly and downed their drinks. “And more better.” There was hardly a burn on the last swallow, but it was enough to make them shift in their seat. 

“Metzli Bernal, to the front desk.” 

Metzli stiffened and lit up, realizing they were about to board first after the arrangements Anita made for their peculiar needs. “I get to sit at the window.” They chuckled, disappearing with their things. 

_ 

Anita and Metzli both seemed immediately agreeable to the suggestion of alcohol, which, win. Not that Xóchitl had had any sort of real doubt about whether or not they’d agree, but it was still good. Maybe a drink (or a few) would get her brain back to actually working, rather than whatever nonsense was going on now. Lack of general eloquence, lack of understanding about just what on earth was going on. But she liked doing things without thinking about consequences, and doing things with friends was even more fun. It brought her back to college, and grad school, even. Not always in the best of ways (but that wasn’t the point right now, was it?), but now it could be in the best of ways. 

Or in the goodest of ways. Which wasn’t a word, but again, not the point.

While Anita and Metzli went off on their ways, Xóchitl took a swig of a cap of alcohol she’d somehow managed to get through TSA. Not that things like that were hard, not for her, though she figured some of that had to do with projecting an air of confidence. That much she was quite expert at. It wasn’t self-centered if it was true, right?

Soon enough, both of her friends returned, and both with a few drinks. “I’m buying us a round or three of something when we get there.” She grabbed one of the drinks and the bag of chips from Anita, offering the both of them a small shrug. Metzli was called to the front desk, and Xóchitl felt her stomach clench for a moment, wondering if they were going to get in some sort of trouble (though she was ready to tell off anybody who tried to fuck with Metzli), but it turned out that they’d gotten a window seat. “You’ll love that. You can see how the world looks from way up high.” She offered them a kind smile. “Also you can cozy against the side of the plane, which makes relaxing easier. At least that’s my personal feeling on it.”

_ 

Anita was always quite amused when Metzli managed to surprise her. And surprised she was to see them coming back with a small tray full of tequila shots at the same time that she was returning from her own supply run. It was like they had read her mind. “Here’s to Siobhan, for bringing us all together for this strange adventure.” Anita saluted in Spanish before taking her first shot of tequila. It wasn’t Casa Dragones, but it wasn’t half bad. “And here is to all of the great Irish liquor I’m sure we will discover.” She said as she raised up the second shot, finishing it off just as the attendants called for Metzli. 

If they were being called off to board that meant that the first class call wasn’t far behind. Sure enough, shortly after finishing up the rest of the drinks and reorganizing her bag a bit, the announcement rang out “We now welcome our passengers traveling in first class to board.” Anita grinned over at Xóchitl, “Vamos, mamacita.” 

First class on a transcontinental flight was truly a luxurious experience. Separated from the main cabin by a hallway not just a flimsy little shower curtain. Not that it was the status that Anita really cared about, though. Sure, that was nice, but it was the comforts and small luxuries that made the expense worthwhile. “Miss me?” She teased once they ruined with Metzli in the cabin. After stowing her bags, she slid into the aisle seat and let out a soft sigh of contentment before reaching over and pointing at the screen in front of Metzli’s seat. “This can show you an overview of our flight path, can play music or movies, or you can just turn it off.” Then she turned across the aisle where Xó’s seat was. “This whole thing was so last minute I forgot to even ask, how do you and Siobhan know each other?” 

It didn’t take long for the rest of the first class passengers to fill in and the attendant came around to offer everyone a complimentary glass of champagne, which Anita finished rather quickly. After all, she was on vacation. 

_ 

Being the first person on a flight was interesting, especially when you had only seen pictures of what the inside of a plane looked like. It was only slightly overwhelming, and Metzli was surprised to find that even at their height, their area was spacious. “Oh…” They sat down and looked through the tiny window, anxious to see how the wings would fly in the sky. There was so much to touch and see. Maybe a bit too much for their liking. But Metzli thought it better to wait until Anita arrived, which felt like forever. Though, that was likely the anxiety altering their perception.

“Not really.” They replied, legs bouncing anxiously. “Will they make me sit all the way back? I…I do not like how it feels.” Metzli’s posture was stiffer than usual as they strained to avoid the seat. They could feel themself blinking more than necessary as they battled with how the lights seemed to grow brighter and the amount of people shuffling in produced more noise. With a swallow, the ringing in their ears reached a head, and they took a breath to just barely catch what Anita was saying about the small screen in front of them. 

“Okay.” They nodded, swallowing once more as the flight attendant’s appearance startled them into focus. “Thank you.” Tentatively, Metzli took the plastic flute and held it firmly for a moment to gather their bearings before downing the champagne. Oh. It was the pointy liquid they didn’t like very much. They tried not to frown, to hide their discomfort and their cough, but with their leg advertising how they truly felt, it was almost impossible to get a word to not shake from their mouth. “I told you h-how we meet already. We-we had sex.”

_ 

She couldn’t help but throw a wink at Anita. It was all in good fun, and it was how the two of them worked after all, wasn’t it? She wanted to check on Metzli, anyhow, to make sure they’d done alright boarding and that nobody else who’d gotten on the plane already was giving them trouble. Which, thankfully, nobody seemed to be. Not that she’d expected anybody to be giving them a hard time, but it was another box ticked in the ‘things are going smoothly’ column. A column that Xóchitl realized she was likely relying on way too much. That didn’t mean she was going to stop. She relied on tequila too much sometimes, but she certainly hadn’t given that up (nor did she intend to).

“You can sit however you wish. The only rules planes have is about wearing your seatbelt, but everything else? You can take at your own pace.” She hoped that was comforting. She didn’t know if it was. Xóchitl didn’t consider herself a comforting person, but she also knew that there were quite a few people (maybe a handful, maybe less, maybe more) who might’ve disagreed with her on that.

Anita was now asking her how she and Siobhan knew each other, and Metzli had jumped in with an answer and so Xóchitl figured why not? “I also slept with her. Well, technically my neighbor tried to get us to hang out so she’d annoy me, but that didn’t happen. You and her work together, right?”

_ 

“I wasn’t asking you,” Anita clarified with only a slight twinge of annoyance, refusing to let her face show how that was amplified by Xóchitl’s response. Apparently Anita was the only one whom Sibohan thought she was too good to sleep with. Maybe this trip would change that. “Yes, we’re both professors. We also committed arson together once.” The comment slipped out, more of a jab to try and make herself feel a bit better since she doubted either of them had burned down a nightclub with Siobhan before. But then she remembered that Xóchitl was a human and that humans frowned on arson. “Kidding,” she added in with a bright grin and a laugh. 

Once all of the passengers were boarded, the attendants began their safety demonstrations. The bright lights, the loud crackling overhead announcements, and the annoying dinging bells that preceded them, it was all very apparent that it was overwhelming for Metzli. Sometimes Anita didn’t know where the line was between being helpful and being overbearing and never wanted to inadvertently make things worse. 

Anita reached down into the bag that was tucked underneath the seat in front of her and pulled out a small pouch that had a black-out eye mask, ear plugs, and some suspicious looking clearly homemade red “candies.” Whatever Metzli wanted to do with the materials was up to them. Not long after the safety demonstration ended, the plane started to taxi away from the gate and down the runway. The stiff air was mixed with sweat and people trying to mask that sweat with too much perfume. Anita adjusted herself more comfortably into the seat as the captain announced that they were about to begin their take-off. 

Within an instant the noise in the cabin nearly doubled as the jet engines prepared themselves to carry the aircraft up into the sky. Anita thought about offering her hand for Metzli to hold onto but immediately thought better of it, intentionally or not they could break every tiny bone with just one squeeze. The wheels began to turn and the plane took off down the runway, the rumble shaking and jostling everyone on board slightly. After a few moments of that, the plane lifted off the ground and there was that strange pressurized sensation that was only felt when one was in an active fight against the laws of gravity. She looked over at Metzli, knowing there wasn’t anything more than what she had already done to help them through these moments of discomfort. 

_ 

The plane rumbled and whirred, sending Metzli’s reflexes into attack mode. Even Anita’s attempts at being a good friend went missed as the sounds made their body tense. Muscle to muscle, from the shoulders and to their feet, everything flexed. With a swallow, a pitiful sound escaped Metzli’s throat and an even louder sound scraped on their right. 

Trembling, they rose their fist to find that the armrest had been twisted and bent away from its place. “Oh…oh no.” The plane jumped forward, jostling the armrest from Metzli’s grasp and sending it to the floor. They looked to Anita and then to the floor, and back to her again. Well, that was a problem for later, they thought, feeling the metal carriage ascending into the sky.

_ 

“Well, so long as you were both safe,” Xóchitl shrugged. Not that she especially approved of arson, but she also wasn’t about to fight Anita about it. It had already been done, and the cops sucked and so who exactly was she even going to report it to?

Besides, Metzli seemed to be more in trouble and the armrest of their chair disconnected from the rest of the chair, all of a sudden, and that was both confusing and not something Xóchitl could bring herself to focus on too much right then and there. “We’re here for you, okay?” She whispered across the aisle to Metzli, giving a nod to Anita. “We’ll be there before you know it.”