#ooc. But that is the real reason why he can't be in the light

[maskednihilism]

❝Two questions, I suppose.❞ Dan Heng starts. ❝ Can you keep a secret if someone's life depends on it?❞ And perhaps less heavy although no less complex, ❝And... is trying to sway you toward the light a futile endeavor?❞ He knows Koski could lie to him. But he's curious how they'll narrow down their answers. What the final choices will be.

~Starlighttrain

@starlighttrain || prompt! || From Dan Heng!

The first question is fairly easy. At least for him it is. "Yes." While people might think he would sell them out, he has some level of loyalty to those he feels deserve it or have earned it. And for the young Vidyadhara, he certainly has earned it.

The second question is much harder to answer. Under these circumstances. It's not that he doesn't want the light. He has felt it. It feels warm. Like a home after returning from a blistering cold winter's day. Where the heat warms up from head to toe. But this is the life he has known.

It's the life he's allowed to have. If not his fears, THEY stood behind him. THEY granted him this ability to continue. THEY are in control.

When THEY feel he's no longer of use?

It can be taken all away. Like a noblesse worm.

So to that answer, Sampo doesn't respond.

[sonolynn]

Forbidden Fruit

summary | Jace didn't want her, but Aemond did.

pairing | Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader

tags | 18+ MDNI, Jealously, Aemond yearning, explicit sexual content, mentions of bastards, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, size kink (?), oral f!receiving, Angst if you squint. "Technical" infidelity but is it really if Jace started it? (yes). ooc!Aemond (probably). NOT PROOF READ (its one am, leave me alone).

w.c | 3.8k

note(s) | My first smut fic!! Ah I'm scared...I also think I have a problem with making Aemond want fem!reader when he rightfully can't have her. Also I swear I'm not a Jace hater!! I love Jace, but in this fic specifically I made him long and wish for Baela.

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“Why don’t you marry her then?” 

Aegon’s voice was taunting, as if pushing Aemond to say something. Aemond stared down at the cup in front of him; even with a stoic expression, his mannerisms betrayed him. He tapped his finger against the edge of the cup, he picked at the skin around his nails on the opposite hand-all the tell tale signs of thinking, a mind that cannot be stopped. 

“Because she is betrothed to Rhaenyra’s bastard.” His voice dripped with malice as he spoke. Aemond hated that Jacerys would inherit the throne enough; What his bastard nephew didn’t need was the girl Aemond had wished for his entire life. Ever since the two of them were children Aemond had a…weird infatuation with her. When he was a boy, he would pick flowers from the garden and he would purposely do good deeds for her, just to have her hug him or smile graciously at him. 

But now, everything was different. She was a woman grown, and him a man grown. She was to be engaged to his bastard nephew, and he would have to sit and watch as they shared a kiss, held hands, smiled and danced as newlyweds. He’d have to hold a straight face as the two of them left to Jacerys’ bed chamber, only knowing the connotations that came with what would happen on their wedding night. 

Ignoring his brother's tedious rants about hells knows what, Aemond stood from his chair, opting for a walk in the gardens.

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Aemond walked, hands clasped behind his back, and his gaze drifted into nothingness as he walked with just his thoughts, and the cool breeze that accompanied the summer evenings. He tried to distract himself from the thoughts of her, for they were all almost too painful to ever truly think about. 

But he couldn’t help himself. He thought of her as a sickness, one that lingered and grew stronger by the day until it fully consumed your every waking moment. He thought of her laugh just as contagious as the plague, her eyes as intoxicating as the finest of wines. He thought her to be a type of sickness, and he so desperately wanted to be affected. 

Aemond was never one to smile-one to truly-smile, his half smirks or half smiles were only ever in a sarcastic sense, but for some reason his smiles were real with her. With her he laughed a little more, with her he walked a little faster. He knew it was stupid, perhaps perpetually idiotic-to ever think, let alone long for such a pure and innocent creature. 

As Aemond walked, he noticed her sitting by one of the fountains in the garden. She looked breathtaking, he thought to himself. Her hair was down and cascaded down her shoulders, her face was just the perfect amount of shaded with the moon's light. And above all, she held that intoxicating smile that she always held. He never knew why she was always smiling, nor did he wish to find out. 

She turned her head, her smile widening at the sight of Aemond. 

“Aemond!” Her voice was cheerful, slowly standing as he walked towards her. 

“Princess,” Aemond smiled-a half smile-at her as he looked around, then slowly back at her. “It’s quite late. Should you not be in your chambers?” 

She always thought the way he cared for her, even if he didn’t show it outright, was extremely enticing. She knew how he was with others, but she knew the differences he had with almost everyone in court-so what made her so different? Why her, the object of the second son's affection. 

“Perhaps I do not wish to sleep. Perhaps…I quite like the quietness of the garden.” She smiled innocently, looking back towards the fountain as she started to walk. Aemond knew her well enough to see that this was a quiet plea for him to join her; Because no matter how much she enjoyed the quietness of the garden, she enjoyed it much more when he was with her. 

Aemond stared at her, as he often did, but this time, it was different. The stare he held was nothing short of primal. He watched the light in her eyes as she smiled up at him and for some reason, now, he wished to watch as the innocent light in her eyes slowly dwindled as he claimed her. 

“Aemond? Is something wrong?” Her voice snapped his thoughts back, if only for a moment. She stopped walking to look up at him and she crossed her arms underneath her chest. His eye trailed down slowly, fixating on the way that her cleavage just slightly out of her dress. He was like a man starved; Clinging to the littlest of details that would make his imagination run wild. 

She seemed to notice the way that his eye raked over her chest like a starving man, and her face flushed with embarrassment. She-though subconsciously-reached up to place her arm over her chest, but to her surprise, Aemond gently took her hand, and when she looked up, his one sapphire eye was locked with hers. 

“You needn’t cover up. Not around me.” He spoke calmly, though his heart was racing and his head spinning. He let out a shaky breath as he lowered her hand and looked into her eyes. 

She watched him carefully, searching his gaze for anything that would betray him. In truth she didn’t know what she was searching for, but she felt as if she should be searching for something. 

Aemond lifted a hand, placing the back of his knuckles against her hot cheek. The gesture was gentle, and slow, something he was not known for. His eye slowly trailed down her face, and his eye caught on her lips, his breath heavy as he reached his hand up and gently placed his thumb over her plush bottom lip. 

Her eyes followed his, big, and full of longing. She stared at him as his thumb pushed against her lip. She didn’t know exactly what to do; She knew that this moment was intimate, far too intimate to be happening between a betrothed woman and a bachelor. But, the way he gazed at her made her feel hot, and the way he trailed his hand over her face and body made her want to see where this could lead. 

His free hand shakily went up to her waist, cupping it firmly as he brought her closer. He leaned forward, just slightly, till his nose was pressed against hers. Her breath hitched, and her eyes instinctively closed. She waited for him to press his lips against hers, to feel his mouth on hers like she had (shamefully) always wished for. But, it never came. 

When she opened her eyes again, she saw Aemond breathing heavily, desperately trying to restrain himself. He pulled away slightly, and he shook his head,

“I shouldn’t take advantage of you…not like this.” Though his words held conviction, it seemed his body betrayed him. His hand stayed on her waist, slowly trailing up and cupping her breast in his hand. She gasped softly at the feeling, and his thumb went to her lip again before he connected his lips to hers. She responded immediately, putting her hands on his arms. 

He kissed her like he was dying, his body subconsciously reacting more to the kiss then he’d wish it to. He pulled her flush against him, his strong hands coming to cup her face, his shoulders shrugging in a futile attempt to have her closer. He opened his mouth, causing her to gasp at the feeling of his tongue against hers. Her mouth moved with his as if it was known to her; As if this was a dance she had practiced for years to perfect, as if the dance of her lips was a song that Aemond had mastered just for her. 

She practically melted in his arms. She had been kissed before; Jace was a good kisser but he was soft, and the kisses were never not chaste. But, kissing Aemond was like walking through fire. Her entire body reacted to the way he clung to her body, how he pulled her impossibly closer. It was like a fire had escaped through his lips and was now coursing through her veins and settling in her abdomen. 

Even though she didn’t know exactly what to do, it seemed her body did. Her hands slid down his arms and slowly made their way to his chest as she moaned softly. 

The moan grounded him, like he had been falling from the heavens and down to earth. He suddenly pulled away, breathless as he stared down at her. Her eyes opened steadily, and she looked up at him with confusion while a frown graced her kiss swollen lips. 

“We shouldn’t have done that.” He spoke breathlessly, his hand still gently stroking her side. 

“Maybe not..but it felt good.” Gods, the way she spoke held him in a chokehold. He wished desperately to dive back into her; To drown in her lips and never come up for air, but.. 

“Not again. You are to be married.” He suddenly pulled away and at the feeling of his hands leaving her body, she frowned deeper. 

“Aemond-” “Goodnight, Princess.” 

And with that, the prince turned and rushed back into the keep. 

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Aemond couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned in bed, picking at his nails, biting his lip-genuinely anything to help stop the incessant thoughts of her lips. 

The thoughts started off sweet and innocent. The way she looked up at him as he trailed his thumb over her lip, the way her lips pursed just slightly when he leaned forward. 

But then the thoughts got venereal fast. He thought about how he felt to finally kiss her. The way his lips practically burned when they pulled away. He knew that as he gazed at her kiss swollen lips his night would be harbored with thoughts of what they’d look like doing gods knows what else. 

His hand slid down underneath the sheets, firmly grasping at his length as he let out a shuddering breath. He hated doing this; Feeling so pent up and so desperate that he had to resort to using himself. But as of right now he couldn’t care less. 

He imagined her lips around his cock, her innocent eyes gazing up into his. He’d imagine the way she’d gag around him, how her lips would look kissing the head of his cock. 

He groaned at the thought, his head tipping back as he closed his eye and let his thoughts wander more. He’d think about how she’d look with his seed covering her lips and her chin, how she’d moan his name as he devoured her between her legs-

He peaked with a gasp, and a low moan of her name. The minute his orgasm washed over him, and he started to slowly come down, he felt an intense feeling of guilt, shame, but most of all pain. 

Guilt and shame because he hated himself for touching himself to someone who couldn’t be his. 

Pain because she’d never be his. Pain because he knew that no matter what he did, she’d still be betrothed to Jacerys. 

____________________________________________

The next morning, she sat alone at breakfast, supposedly liking it more that way. With her fiance practically ignoring her, and her father too entranced with kissing the king's ass, she learned to enjoy the solitude of just…nothing. 

Plus, she always had her thoughts. Even if they were only occupied with Aemond. 

She played around with the food on her plate as her mind trailed. She remembered the way he kissed her, how he held her. She felt happy, something she so rarely felt with Jacerys. 

She knew how he felt, how he longed for and wished for Baela. She did not blame him, she was beautiful, but she also didn’t feel sad, which, at a point did bother her but, not so much. 

At least, not after last night. 

She smiled to herself as she thought about the kiss, wishing that he would do it again, longing for the way the heat escalated through her body. 

She didn’t register the voice next to her until it spoke her name. 

She looked up, surprised. But, when her eyes met with Aemond’s, her heartbeat quickened, and she smiled. 

“Aemond.”

“You’re not hungry?”

“What?” “You’re not eating.” “Oh,” Her cheeks flushed red for a reason unbeknownst to her, and with a soft huff, she pushed the plate away, “It seems as though I have lost my appetite.” 

Aemond looked concerned at that, and he looked down at her. Despite himself, he found himself worrying yet again for her comfort, her needs. 

“Is something the matter?” She shakes her head, but for some reason, Aemond was persistent. “If this is about what happened last night, then I should apologize-” 

“Apologize?” She interrupted, sitting up straighter at the mention of the word. “Why?” 

“Yes…apologize. Because we should not have done that-”

“But I wanted it to happen.” 

Aemomd stopped and he slowly looked towards her. His eye pierced into hers as if to read every thought and emotion that crossed her brain. He just simply couldn’t believe her. 

“You shouldn’t say things you do not mean, Princess.”

“You don’t know that I don’t mean it.”

“Princess-”

“Aemond.” She said his name as if to challenge him, and he knew that he truly could never challenge her. He saw it in her eyes, he saw by the way she looked at him and smiled that she wished for him just as he wished for her. But these feelings-these blockages-would only cause unnecessary trouble. 

“Please, do not give me a hope that cannot be upheld.” Her heart broke a little at that, and, as he stood to leave, she instinctively stood with him, taking his wrist in her hand as she pulled on his arm. As if the small gesture would stop him from walking, (it did). 

“Aemond please..You do not know what I wish for.” 

His lip curled down into a small frown as he looked at her. He knew what she felt-at least he thought he did-but even if his suspicions were right, even if she did wish for him like how he longed for her, he couldn’t. He may dislike, perhaps even hate his nephew, but he was better than stealing his fiance. 

Right?

“We cannot. To be with you would disgrace your family and the alliance-” 

“Fuck the alliance!” She swore, her eyes boring into his as she studied his face. “Fuck the alliances Aemond, I wish for you. Desperately, I wish for you. Jace does not see me like how you do. Jace does not make me feel the way that you do-”

“It does not matter if Jace makes you happy or if he makes you feel desired-” “He does not wish for me as you do!”

“Princess-” “You do not understand! We are speaking of breaking it off. Neither of us wish for this.” Aemond went quiet at this and he sighed heavily, turning his full body towards her. He pried his arm away from her, staring at her incredulously, his body language giving no open window to how he was truly feeling. With no words coming from him, she continued. 

“I love you.” At those words Aemond showed his shock. He took a step back from her and he raised an eyebrow. 

“You do not mean-”

“Oh for the love of-Yes! I mean it! I love you, Aemond! I love you as if it is breathing! Instinctively, not thinking about it….I love you.” 

Aemond couldn’t hold it anymore, he walked to her and gripped her face tightly, her cheeks squishing slightly in his grasp as he smashed his lips against hers. She initially was shocked at the sudden kiss, but she kissed him back fiercely, holding his wrists as she leaned up to kiss him deeper. 

He led her back until he pressed her back against the table, holding her thighs as he pushed her onto the table. His body fit perfectly in between her thighs, just like he imagined it would. His hands gripped her thighs, one of his hands traveling up, feeling and savoring the soft skin as he groaned. 

She pulled away from the kiss to leave small kisses along his jaw. He bit his lip at the feeling, the action presumably so innocent and so sweet it almost made him chuckle. 

He pulled back slightly, his gaze intense and lust filled as his hand trailed underneath her breasts. 

“Tell me to stop.” He demanded. His head was spinning with the lust that clouded it. He waited for her to push him away, or to whimper a soft “I do not think myself ready”- But she shook her head, bringing his head back to hers swiftly to connect their lips in another passionate kiss. 

He pulled away from the kiss, groaning to himself as he left hot, open mouthed kisses against her jaw and neck. He looked down, his breath heavy as he stared down into her cleavage. He wished for nothing more than to rip her dress open and kiss every inch of her body, but being in the dining room came with its disadvantages. So, he settled for kissing her cleavage, before trailing his lips down the fabric of her dress till he came to her thighs.

Aemond pushed her dress up as far as he could, staring at her the whole time. He slowly pushed her thighs about, giving her time to stop him but she never did. Gently kissing the inner side of her thigh, he tried to reassure her. He could see the uncertainty in her eyes; The way she looked at him with both anxiety and lust. He stared up at her searching for any sign or signal that would make him stop. 

“Is this okay?” Once he saw the light nod of her head, he disappeared underneath her dress. 

She had never been intimate with a man-courtesy of her father, enforcing the “Women should be pure” melodramatic speech into her head ever since she could stand. She always thought it to be a chore, only having heard stories from unhappy married women who hated their husbands, and much less disliked their children a little less, but this? This was exciting, this felt good. 

She placed a hand on his head, moaning his name under her breath as he ate her like a beast. His hands gripped her thighs as if to ground himself-He had tasted women before but for some reason she was so much sweeter, so much more divine. His eyes practically rolled back just from pushing his tongue into her heat, sucking gently on her flit before he pulled away slightly, focusing his attention on her clit as he dipped a finger inside of her. 

The sudden stretch made her jump, and gasp loudly. She may have pleasured herself before but it really never felt like what Aemond was doing to her. He eased his finger in slowly, dragging it back out, and then slowly pushing it back in. Hearing the moans that graced her lips, he continued the slow thrust of his finger for a moment before he added another one. 

She let out a loud moan, a hand on the back of his head as she pushed his head closer to her heat. She felt him chuckle against her, the vibrations only adding to the pleasure. She moaned loudly, perhaps too loudly for comfort, but Aemond only seemed to want more of those noises to come from her. 

He slowly curled his fingers, his mouth praising her clit. The added pressure with the curl of his fingers, and the sucking of her clit made her eyes squeeze shut. 

“Oh gods Aemond, I’m going to-” Just as her orgasm was going to consume her, it stopped. With her heavy breathing, and slightly shaky legs, she slowly sat up. Aemond smirked up at her, holding her gaze as he nipped at her inner thighs. “You stopped..” 

“Yes. Because if you are going to peak it should be on my cock.” 

Her face flushed at the words, and she stared at him with wide eyes as he pulled his trousers down slightly to free his throbbing cock. As their eyes met, he seemed to notice the slight anxiety in her eyes, because he pressed his forehead against hers and lined himself up with her entrance. 

“Tell me to stop if it hurts too much.” She nodded in response, and she wrapped her arms tightly around his shoulders as he pushed into her. She let out a gasp; The feeling was new, discomfiting but..new. Her face scrunched up at the stretch, and Aemond shushed her quietly as he started to move. After a few thrusts, her body relaxed, and she started to moan his name. 

Hearing his name fall from her lips was like a prayer answered, like a lifelong dream he had been waiting for. He grunted as he started to rock his hips back and forth into her slowly. It took everything inside of him to not pound into her, to fuck her like he had fantized about. He wished that her father could see her now, her maidenhood gone and her body fully submitting to the pleasure he so gracefully gave her. 

“Aemond..Aemond oh gods-” Her voice broke as he went faster, her moans only getting louder. She tried to wrap her mind around the pleasure he was giving her, the way his hips moved slowly yet deeply, the way the tip of his thick cock rubbed against the spot so deliciously. Her eyebrows furrowed, and she held him close to her. 

One of his hands was on her thigh, the other on the table as he thrusted into her, as if holding the edge of the table would stop the creaking sounds, or the way she moaned his name, or how his groans got louder as his climax approached. 

White splattered her vision as her orgasm washed over. She cried out his name in pleasure, holding him close as his legs trapped him inside of her. The feeling of her core pulsating and tightening made Aemond’s head spin, and he grunted out a moan of her name as he came himself, spilling his seed inside of her. 

As the two sat there, basking in the afterglow of being intimate, neither of them would move for what felt like hours. Even though the position that they were in was compromising, they smiled, and laughed softly at the situation itself. 

Once they both got cleaned up-the best they could get cleaned up for just having sex on the dining room table-Aemond took her hand. She smiled softly at Aemond, her heart racing in a new, and exciting way. The two stared at each other for a while, trying to wrap their minds around the fact that now, they could truly be together, or at least, now, they had a hope that they could be together.

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[leighsartworks216]

Yeah, 'Cause Maybe Then You'd Want Me Just As Much

Sylus x Mephisto!Reader

In the actual Nightplumes memory, Mephisto actually gets along with the dove but um fuck that, we want it to hurt. Also wanna say the "I'm busy right now" line is from the actual game, which inspired this tbh

Title from "Girl Crush" by Little Big Town

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, jealousy, self-esteem issues, self-worth issues, body dysphoria, shapeshifting, biting, fear of water, storms, pet names, crying, possibly ooc

Word Count: 3,699

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Ugh, doves. They think they're sooo perfect just because they're so round and cute and everyone loves them. Those pathetic little coos. A bird should make real noise, not just those dumb sounds.

So why is Sylus - a man whom you were led to believe had good tastes in avian creatures - giving it so much attention?

You bite his earlobe. His head jerks away on reflex, a soft hiss escaping through his teeth. "Behave," he chides. Doesn't even look at you.

You glare down at the pathetic dove again. Somehow it hurt its wing. And for some godforsaken reason Miss Hunter brought it to Sylus to look after. You know for a fact she has a doctor friend, why not foist it on him until she gets back from her trip? Yeah, Sylus is great with animals, but that's beside the point.

You bite his ear again. He sighs. "Do I have to send you on a mission?" You bristle at the question, feathers standing on end. His brow is furrowed as he gets back to examining the dove's wing. It's not even a bad break; it'll recover in no time.

So why can't he spare a second on you?

You try a different approach. With a more delicate touch, you preen the ends of his hair. He still doesn't glance your way. "I'm busy right now. Go entertain yourself for a bit."

Oh...

You step awkwardly on his shoulder, feeling suddenly too out of place there. Your wing almost clips his head as you take off for your perch. Even here, the wood just feels wrong under your feet. Your feathers are ruffled. They can't seem to relax. A chasm opens in your heart. Synthetic as it may be, you can still feel it. Like a black hole, sucking in all the light.

The dove coos. You can't stay in here. You slip out of an open window and fly off. Where to, you have no idea. Anywhere but here.

"Anywhere" lands you outside the window of a fourth floor hotel room. The light is still on, just a small lamp by the bed, but it's enough to see a familiar figure sitting against the headboard reading a mission brief. You tap on the glass.

Miss Hunter looks up with a start. The surprise quickly turns to a frown. She gets up in a huff and jerks the curtains closed.

You can hear a phone ringing inside a second later.

"Sylus! What have I told you about sending your bird to spy on me?!"

The faint crackle of Sylus's voice answers with a sharp scoff. "I haven't told Mephisto to do anything," he retorts.

"Then why is it outside my window right now, huh?!"

"Why don't you ask?" he teases dryly. "Maybe they missed picking fights with you."

"You-!"

"Goodnight, kitten."

The beep of an ended call. You tap on the glass again, softer this time.

Miss Hunter huffs inside. Moments pass, but the curtains remain drawn shut. You can't tell if the lamp has been turned off; you can't even hear her moving around. Maybe she's decided to take the "out of sight, out of mind" approach. Unsurprising, really. If she isn't ignoring you, she's shouting abuse at you.

A large crack of thunder rumbles through your circuits, stirring the air with electricity. You hadn't even noticed the weather - the clouds are dark, covering every sliver of sky for miles.

You tap on the glass more urgently.

The first droplets of rain begin to fall. Slow, random. And then more and more, all at once in a barrage of water. You press yourself tighter to the window and tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap-

The curtains are thrown open. The window lifts from its sill. Before she can angrily ask why you won't leave her alone, you fly in as quick as you can. Just in the nick of time, it seems, as the rain turns into a proper storm, lightning firing through the sky in a burst of light. You tumble onto the end of the bed, feathers ruffled.

She huffs as she slides the window shut, ready to tease you or yell at you, but another loud boom of thunder makes her flinch and close the curtains quickly, words stolen. "Fine! I guess you can... stay the night," she relents. She rounds the bed to sit back down where she was before. She picks up the tablet with her mission data and holds it up, pointing at you accusingly. "And no telling Sylus about anything you see here, got it?"

You caw back at her. You don't wanna tell Sylus anything right now. It might distract him from his sweet, precious dove...

Knees bent, she sets the tablet on her thighs and starts reading again. Rain hits against the window, picked up by a growing wind that slams it into the hotel building. Another shock of thunder. She curls slightly more into herself.

You preen your feathers. Align them all once more, clean them from the long flight here, soothe your nerves. All the while watching Miss Hunter's reactions to the storm. With every boom of thunder, she's startled from her reading. She does well trying to hide it. You can see the twitch in her eyes, the tension in her shoulders and hands as she holds tighter to the tablet, the way her knees pull in slightly more. It doesn't take a genius to see what's happening. The real question is why she's not doing anything to deal with it. Is it because she's trying to play it cool with you around? Not giving anything away so you'd have less to report back with?

You look around the room. It's nothing special. Certainly nothing as luxurious as the suites Sylus stays in. A suitcase is on the floor by the tv stand. A work bag is set on the desk. The perfect amount of stuff for a week-long work trip, you suppose.

You fly over to the desk, nails ticking against the wood.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

You poke your beak into a few of the pockets on the bag.

"Leave that alone! Don't go through my stuff!"

You wonder for a moment how soundproof these walls are, and just how confused someone listening in would be when she's answered by the caw of a crow.

You finally find what you're looking for in a side pocket and pull it out. It doesn't really fit well in your beak, but you make do. She's just tossed her tablet aside to jump up and bolt over to you, but she stops when you fly back over to the bed.

She blinks at you, confused. "What are you...?" You hop across the cheap bedding and hold out the item to her. She hesitantly accepts your offering, and you drop the earphone case in her hand. Understanding dawns on her. "Oh... thanks."

You walk to the other side of the bed, going around the tablet to roost on top of the untouched pillow. It's kinda hard and lumpy, but at least you're not outside. With that much water, you'd certainly shut down. You have no idea how Sylus would retrieve you if you had, way up here. A bitter part of you wonders if he would.

Miss Hunter watches as you tuck your beak under your wing. You don't really sleep during the night, but you'll manage. She slips the earphones in her ears and plays some music on her phone. The storm outside, the faint pulse of music, and her tapping on the tablet are the only sounds.

She opens the window for you in the morning, when the storm has passed. With one last warning not to follow her or report back to Sylus, she heads out for her mission and you take your time flying back home. She asked about the dove only once during your stay. A bandaid around her finger reminds her not to ask again.

-

"What time did you get back, pretty bird?" Sylus crosses the room from the doorway, fully dressed for the night and reaching out to scratch you under your chin.

You scoot away, further down your perch, glaring at the pretty white thing on his shoulder. He doesn't try to reach you. He lets you step away, hand dropping and eyebrow raised. "Are you going to be this feisty all week?"

You caw indignantly. Of course you are! That should be you perched up on his shoulder! You should be the one preening under his attention! Instead, Miss Hunter brings along a new, cute little thing, pestering him to take care of it "for her", and now it's the only bird around here he cares about.

He tsks. "You don't have to be jealous, sweetie. It's only for a week. As soon as she gets back, you'll never have to see it again."

The dove flies down from his shoulder to the perch. Your perch! You caw obscenities as you take its place on Sylus's shoulder - your rightful place. He winces at how loud you are directly in his ear, wings spread to give you a larger appearance as you speak your mind to the little dove that seems to only stare up blankly at you.

He smoothes a hand down your back. For a moment you forget how angry you are with him, too, for indulging Miss Hunter with this stupid task. For pushing you away in favor of caring for the pretty little dove. For not saying more when she called him about you. For just that moment, the firing synapses of your circuitry tingle pleasantly where his fingers brush over your feathers and seeing the dove on your perch becomes bearable as you stand on his shoulder, your favorite perch of all.

"Easy, pretty bird. It knows this is your territory," he assures. "It's still young, that's all."

And then you remember that none of this would be happening if this damn bird wasn't here.

You caw one last time at the dove, nibble harshly at Sylus's ear, and retreat through the living room door. You follow the familiar twists and turns up into the tallest heights of the base, into an alcove full of your treasures and soft bedding. You don't come up here often anymore, but it feels safe. The one spot of the house that really is just yours; no matter what Sylus says, this is his territory, you're just given more allowances than other people. And thanks to the times in the past when the twins would try to toss things up as a competition, tossing pebbles and jewels and even bullets, you have the privilege of pulling shut a little door, fully isolating yourself in your sanctuary.

Small lights turn on at the flip of a switch that makes a pleasant click. They shine and shimmer against your piles of trinkets. Coins, jewels, jewelry, a shell casing or two - all in their respective piles.

You hop over to your nest: the finest twigs woven together into a bowl shape, with strips of soft fabric lining the inside. Laying in it is like resting in cupped hands. You imagine they're Sylus's hands, clean from ever having held any other bird in his lifetime. His thumbs smoothing down your sides until your feathers are fluffed and eyes are relaxed shut. Pressing soft kisses to your head as he talks to you. You want to be cared for like that. Is the dove getting that same attention?

You get up from your nest. You can't think about it. Can't allow yourself to linger on the thought for any longer than you already have. So you sort through your things. You begin dividing them up into new piles with a different organization system. One by one, everything is shifted over. You're not sure how long it takes. You don't care.

But once you've finished, it feels wrong. Settles uneasily in your gut. Everything is out of place, even though it's all organized. Everything isn't where it should be. You spend even longer sorting it all back.

-

You squeeze your eyes shut. Tighten your hands into fists. Dig your nails into your palm as you will your shape to change. Grit your teeth as metal panels try to shift in unusual ways. Synthetic feathers standing up along your head, neck, back and arms, shuttering with the strain.

You release a breath and everything comes back together; metal in place, feathers laying flat, body un-tensed. You pant softly. Inhale deeply, and try again.

It feels wrong. It's like trying to squeeze into a too-small shirt. It won't happen, and the more you try to force it, the more it hurts, the more uncomfortable you are, and the more the fabric strains at the seams.

You gasp deeply. You're lightheaded. You wobble where you sit on the roof, supporting yourself unsteadily against the snow-laden tiles. It takes a minute to pass. Your skin feels misaligned, like a twisted sock. You try to ignore it; it just means you're a little bit closer to succeeding.

"I thought I might find you up here."

You turn away from the voice. From the sound of Sylus's shoes against the roofing. He sits down a few feet away, eyes never giving up their gaze on you. You hate it. For all the time you've known him, his attention on you has never made you uncomfortable or unsettled. Now, you wish he'd just look anywhere else. Go anywhere else.

Secretly, deep down, you're glad he's finally looking at you again.

He tilts his head. Frowns at the strange way your feathers stick up, and the odd shift of the synthetic skin on your back. "The dove is gone," he says.

You nod. "I know."

Quiet.

"Do you want me to apologize?" he asks.

You shrug. "Doesn't matter. It's gone."

"But you're still upset."

You pull your knees to your chest, but you can't pull them up as far as you'd like to. It's like there's too much strain. A rubber band drawn too far out and waiting to snap or break under the tension. You try to ignore it. Play it off. Pretend everything is normal and that this is intentional.

He doesn't buy it for a second. It's the curse of growing up with him. Of being by his side most of your lives. Of course he knows something is wrong.

You listen to the shifting of fabric behind you. Nearly jump at the feeling of cloth placed on your shoulders. His heavy black coat, long and still warm from his body. You don't feel the falling snow. Yet you can't stop yourself from pulling the front closed around you.

His fingers skillfully brush along your feathers, soothing them down with ease. And yet they keep standing back up a moment after, revealing the distress of your thoughts. Before he can say anything, you do.

"Do you wish I was a dove?"

His hand stops, pausing mid pet. He reaches out to turn you toward him. One hand on your knee to face you to him, the other on your shoulder. You wince as he does. And he notices - of course he notices. He's frowning, brow furrowed, as he pulls aside his coat to expose your legs further. You don't meet his eyes, but you feel them.

"Is that what you've been trying to do up here?" he questions, voice tight with concern and gravity. "You can't force yourself into changing-"

"But if I could, would that make you happier?"

You meet his gaze. Imploring, begging him to tell you. Tell you that he's been distant this week because he realized just how much better doves are. Because he realized how much trouble you are, mechanized and synthetic and fake. Because you aren't enough now that you can't be anything more than you are.

His large hands rise to your face, holding your cheeks, keeping your attention on him. He leans forward slightly, foreheads not quite touching. "If you could change again, I would be happy to see you become anything you wanted. Whether that means becoming a dove, or a hawk, or a hummingbird. The shape you take doesn't matter to me, because I fell in love with you. Crow, or dove, or human. Just you."

You search his eyes. Those pretty garnet eyes. Searching for any hint of a lie. But you already know he means it. "You were so dismissive of me..."

He frowns, brow pinched, but he nods. He doesn't deny it. "I know. I'm sorry."

Emotion chokes up in your throat. "You didn't even ask Miss Hunter about me. Or- Or keep that dove from getting up on your shoulder." You hate that you can feel your face crumpling as tears bite your waterline. See the pain in his face as he diligently wipes away the ones that slip free. You hate that you're so emotional over this - over a stupid bird, but- "I don't want to be replaceable. I don't want to be just a pet to you."

"You're not-"

"Then act like it!" His eyes widen, shocked by your outburst. "Just stop pushing me away for Miss Hunter. Stop... stop waving me off and ignoring me. You're all I have, Sylus. I can't- I don't want to be replaced."

A sob tears its way out of you. Sylus can't recall a time he ever saw you crying - before or after the experiments. You were always happy, or curious, or angry. But never had you cried. Synthetic tears wash down your face, and it's his fault. An ache clenches his heart like a closed fist. He did this. He pushed you away, he made you feel unworthy, unimportant. Let a dove take liberties in your territory.

He draws you into his chest, arms wrapping tightly around you. You don't resist, even as he feels your feathers standing on end. They shudder with your cries. He smoothes his palms over them. Brushes them down, scratches the nape of your neck as he gently shushes you. You press your face into his collar. Your fingers curl tightly into his shirt. You hold on. Cling to him like he'll disappear if you loosen up for even a second.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs against your head. He means it. Deeply. "I should have acted differently. You are my closest friend. My beloved. And I ignored you."

He rubs your back overtop his coat, slowly. Feeling along your spine, your shoulder blades. It's still misaligned. Shifted out of place. You're in pain - because of him.

He's careful as he gathers you into his arms. He scoops you up, cradles you against him while doing his best not to hurt you further; he can't bear the thought of making things worse than he already has. Snow crunches beneath his feet as he stands on the tiles. He turns and begins carrying you inside.

"Let's take care of you now, pretty bird."

-

Just like trying to squeeze into a too-tight shirt, the removal can be tricky. Sylus makes it seem easy.

He rotates your legs until they pop back into the ball-joint, never lingering any longer than he has to. You lay on your stomach, quietly sniffling, while he seems to massage your back, slowly easing the metal into place. Each fix releases the strain. Each soft click eases your feathers back into a resting position.

When he's finished, he helps you sit up. Your legs overhang the table, dangling in the air. He doesn't look at you at first. Busies himself with grabbing a cloth. But then he looks you in the eye as he wipes away the watery formula of your tears. His brow is tight. Lips pulled down into a frown. His eyes, filled with remorse. You can almost see the plan formulating: all the auctions he could go to to buy the shiniest, most interesting things you love to cheer you up; of all the jewels in his treasuries, which would you like the most, if he doesn't just give them all to you; where will Miss Hunter be and when to give you the perfect opportunity to play tricks on her.

You don't want any of them right now. After a week of being pushed aside, of being distant, all you want is right here in front of you.

You nudge his hand away. He obeys without hesitation, dropping the cloth to the table and holding it there, restraining himself. He watches, slightly bewildered, as you reach out for him. You wrap your arms around his neck, drawing him down to your height, and hold him there.

He stands still. Doesn't do anything.

You squeeze him around his shoulders and he finally moves. Arms circle your waist, hands resting open against your back. You breathe him in, soak in his warmth. Your feathers finally relax. You finally relax.

"I don't hate you," you whisper beside his ear.

He releases a long breath, shoulders sagging under your arms. He's still tentative, still careful as he brushes his nose against your temple. "How can I make it up to you?"

A thousand diamonds. A million. No amount is too much. Nothing too far for him to reach. He would bake in the sun for a week if you said. Fly across the globe in search of the perfect pebble. Give you a whole new set of feathers, darker than midnight and softer than a kiss. He's prepared to give it all - what lengths will you have him go to absolve himself? What would it take for you to forgive him? How can he fix the damage he caused?

"Stay with me."

"You can ask for anything."

You shake your head. Turn your head to bury your face solidly in his neck. "I just want you again."

'Again' tears his heart to shreds. He scoops you up once more, trading places so he sits on the edge of the table with you in his lap. Your territory. "You'll always have me," he swears. "And I will spend lifetimes making sure you never doubt that ever again."

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry @that-lost-one @always-just-red @22carolina08 @lunaizhere @sine-nomine0 @beautifulthingsiadore @lalaluch @nothankyew @terriblesoup @jeleryyy @nezuswritingdesk @anaathxma @ssushi @mina7820 @monophobix @mentaltrouble2201 @mskaylacharite @nerrivm @ichosesparklingtorment @schnittled @animegamerfox @flamedancer13 @rebloggingislove @moonlight-inthe-sea @persepolys @satorubabee @sleepykittycx @perla-drg @17chuuya @slovesyouuu @leiakitty @lemonn015

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 11: I Can't Think With You Yelling At Me!

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter eleven of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 6.2K

Warnings: References to sex, Cursing, Drinking, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC, Angst.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

A/N: This one takes a bit of a turn guys, but I promise I know what I'm doing. :) Maybe? Probably?

Previously:

Suddenly your phone rings, shattering the still silence in your apartment. For a second you hope that it's Butcher returning your call, but when you answer, it's not Butcher.

"Hello?"

"I need you." The familiar voice says.

Shit.

Present Day

“Thank you so much for coming!” Rosemary says dragging you through the front door of her two-bedroom apartment. “The sitter cancelled and I’ve got 5 minutes to make it to the hospital.”

Her dark brown hair frizzes out of a messy bun at the back of her head waving as she emphasizes her point with rapid hand gestures. The dusting of freckles across her cheeks catches in the light from the open windows at the back of her apartment as she traverses through the minefield of toys and children's books sprawled over the bright blue couches, the pastel rug, and the coffee table in the spacious living room.

As heartbroken as you were, you never regretted the night you and Ben spent together, because that meant you wouldn't have had Rosemary and you didn't want to imagine a world without her in it. She was the only good that came from that night. A surprise, but a welcome one. The years that followed losing Ben should have been empty, filled with an endless wandering of the world from someone who couldn’t age and couldn’t die, but they weren’t. Ben might have broken your heart, but he gave you the greatest gift. Rosemary filled the hole in your life and you wouldn’t change a thing. Even if it always ended up like this.

Well, besides the whole Ben possibly being alive this whole time and being tortured in a foreign country.

Rosemary was another reason why you had gotten out of being a supe. You didn't want that life for her and you were afraid that Vought would take her away. She was a second generation supe from two of the first and two of the most powerful supes. So for the early years of her life you lived on the coast of Maine in a small town, making sure that Rosemary had as normal a life as she could, despite having superpowers. At first you thought that she was like Ben, she was strong, faster than the average person, and had enhanced senses, but then you realized that her powers were more like yours except Rosemary did not have to die to obtain the powers of another supe. Rosemary could replicate any ability from a supe that she touched for one day, something you both realized when she was two and started to move things telekinetically around the house after she grabbed on to your arm and wouldn't let go. Which may have been fun for her, but not for you. Chasing around a two year old that could suddenly levitate sharp objects and throw them anywhere she wished was far from your idea of a good time.

When you moved back to NYC 10 years ago, the last time you saw Legend, you decided to introduce Rosemary as your cousin whenever anyone asked, including Stan Edgar, who showed up to one of your art shows as soon as you reappeared in the city, prepared to find out if you were Indigo.

You examine your daughter’s flustered expression, the wrinkled black scrubs, and the frantic beat of her heart that thuds loudly in your ears. Rosemary looked more like Ben than you. They had the same eyes, the same dark brown hair that turned into liquid honey in the sunlight, but you were the same height and had the same nose, your father's nose to be exact. And although Rosemary should be 39, she looked barely older than 27.

But despite her resemblance to Ben, it didn’t pain you to see her. You liked to think that she was a reminder of the boy you used to know, the one that you held on to for so many years when things got hard and all you saw was Soldier Boy and not the boy you loved.

She was the only person who knew everything about you and everything about Ben. She was the only family you had left, well, except for-

“Aunty y/n!” A small pink blur leaps towards your face from the end of the couch, to latch onto your upper body like a monkey climbing a tree.

You catch your four year old granddaughter, Lou, with a smile, twirling her around in the air.  Despite your relation, you made sure that Lou referred to you as aunt, as afraid as you were for exposing Rosemary to Vought, fear that they would take Lou away too haunted you at night. Rosemary also did not call you mom, except after Lou went to bed and only when she was upset.

You both figured that it was easier this way, at least until Lou was old enough to understand why you did things the way you did them.

Thankfully, Lou still hadn't presented any powers, which made you and Rosemary happy. It made finding a babysitter easier when you didn’t have to worry about a four year old picking up a couch and throwing it through a window.

Being with your family always made you feel better, despite everything that happened with yours, you always remembered what your father ingrained in you as a child- that the only real wealth in life was family.

Of course he also was the son of the man who owned more than half of the real-estate in Philadelphia and who personally invested with Andrew Carnegie and John D. Rockefeller, so he had room to make generalized statements like that.

When you first got the injection and refused to marry Howard it strained the relationship you had with your parents, well, mostly your mother. She hadn't taken it well, thought you were throwing your life away on Ben. Meanwhile your father and you continued to send letters back and forth until the day he died, despite your mother's want for him to cut ties with you. He was always supportive of what you were doing, wanted to know how Ben was, how you were, and would meet you for dinner occasionally in New York whenever he could. Ben would make an appearance every once in a while, but your mother never came, and it was always like a giant purple spotted elephant was sitting at the table beside you.

You wondered how much grief she gave your father whenever he went to see you. You had tried several times to send your mother letters, telling her of all the good you were doing, but she would send them back unopened. When your father died, you showed up to the funeral and she refused to let you sit on the pews reserved for family. Ben had come with you, and you practically had to drag him away when he started to yell back at her because he knew that despite you being all grown up, he knew that you weren’t strong enough to stand up to her.

"Hey Lou." You smile at your granddaughter. She too had Ben's brown hair, but her eyes were like yours that shone with excitement and happiness.

When Rosemary’s husband died just after Lou was born, you stepped in whenever you could to help her, that meant occasionally babysitting so Rosemary could go to work her overnight nursing shifts downtown in the emergency room.

"I missed you!" Lou hugs you around the neck. She's wearing a floral long sleeve shirt and a pair of pink overalls. Pink was her favorite color and you tried not to be reminded of the dresses your mother forced you to wear when you were younger.

"You saw me three days ago." You brush back the tangled mass of curls from her smiling face.

"Too long." Lou replies.

Rosemary breezes back into the room, toting a large bag over her shoulder. "Okay. I'm so sorry-"

"Don't apologize again!" You wave a hand. "Just go. We'll be okay."

"What are you going to do?" She roots through the bag, looking for some unseen object.

"Oh the usual. Watch Texas Chainsaw Massacre. I've heard great things about the remake-" You wanted to test if she was listening.

"Y/n!"

She passed.

"I'm kidding Rosie." You put your free hand on her shoulder, noticing the wear in her eyes and the dark circles that frame them. You try to remember if things were as hard for you when you were her age. Given that you had already been injected with Compound V and were living as a superhero you figured that they were.

Maybe when everything calms down we can all go for a long vacation somewhere.

"Okay." She sighs. Her eyes search your face for a second, brows pinching together. "Are you okay?"

You always thought her ability to read you was almost supernatural, but Rosemary wasn’t psychic.

"Um. It's been a rough few days." You shrug, adjusting your grip on Lou.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She looks worried.

"Yes. There are a few things we need to talk about. But when you get home. Go on. I can take care of the little gremlin for a few hours."

You didn't like it when she worried about you. Rosie had enough on her shoulders, she didn’t need the 90 plus years of baggage you dragged around everywhere. But what had happened over the past few days deserved a conversation. You were going to go to Russia to find out what happened to Ben and you weren't sure when you would come back or if you could. Going to Russia might mean exposing your identity, which meant you might have to cut and run. You also weren’t sure how much damage had been done after what happened with Countess. When you killed her, you had expected Vought or the police to show up at your door, but you thought that you covered your tracks pretty well. There wasn't a piece of her trailer left and no evidence to convict you, well, aside from the burned jacket in your apartment that you needed to get rid of. You were still hoping that you could salvage it, but it was doubtful.

Your thoughts drift to Rosemary and Lou. The thought of leaving them behind destroyed you, but if it meant keeping them safe from Vought, you knew that you'd have to do it. But you also wondered if you could leave them behind. They were all you had left.

"Okay. I love you." Rosie half-hugs you with her free hand.

"Love you too. Be careful."

"I love you mommy!" Lou crows as Rosemary kisses her on the head and walks out the front door.

"Alright, what do you want to do?" You ask Lou putting her down.

"PAINT!" She raises her hands over her head like a triumphant gladiator.

"I like where your head's at kid." You smile down at her. "Go get your kit, I'll meet you in the kitchen."

When Rosemary gets home twelve hours later, Lou is asleep, but you sit up on the couch with your sketchbook.

Painting with Lou had been enough of a distraction from everything that happened the past few days and the memories of the past that kept rising at the back of your mind, but when she went to bed they started to rush back. The sketchbook had started as a way of escaping the thoughts of what you did to Countess and what she said about you and Ben, but the only thing that you could draw was him. His strong jaw, arching brow, bright green eyes, and mischievous smirk haunted you from the page in front of you.

You hadn't drawn him in over thirty years, hadn't seen him in forty, but you still remembered everything about him, his voice, his laugh, his smile… You had to actively shut off your brain to stop from thinking about him, but none of the usual tricks were working. All you could think about was what if he was alive out there and if the Russians had been torturing him all these years. He was alone.

Did he think that no one cared about him? That no one wanted him?

Yes you hated what he did to you, and as much as you wished that you didn't care, you did. And as much as he hurt you, the Ben you knew would have never left you to rot, he would have come for you and you knew that was what you needed to do for him. The problem now would be telling Rosemary.

Your daughter knew about him. You’d never held anything back when she asked you about her father, including the reason why you two "broke up." In hindsight it was probably not the greatest decision you'd made to tell her exactly what happened, but it was nice to have someone to confide in. And the two of you didn't keep secrets from one another.

"Hey." She whispers with a heavy sigh, collapsing onto the couch beside you. Rosemary drags here eyes around the apartment. "Did you clean?"

"Yeah. It was a bit messy." You smile, shutting the sketchpad so she can't see the page. "Plus I figured it would be nice to be able to sit on the couch without getting probed by one of Lou’s toys."

"Yeah. Don't think I need another little mermaid toy 'exploring' the secrets of the cave, if you know what I mean."

You laugh at her. "How was the shift?"

"Bleh."

"That good?"

"Mhmm." She leans her head against your bicep.

"You know I've been thinking," You put your arm around her shoulders. "Maybe we should all just get away for a few days. We haven't been to the coast in a while. And Lou loves the beach-"

"Don't you have that big show coming up next month?"

"Yeah, but I’ve been feeling a little bit uninspired. I'm thinking about postponing.”

She sits up to look at you, suspicious. "Alright, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong-"

Everything is wrong and I have no idea how to tell you what I need to.

“You have never once postponed a show before.” She raises an eyebrow. "And you’re the worst liar.”

"I’m not lying I am feeling a little bit uninspired.”

"Mom."

"Fine." But you still have no idea how to start the conversation.

How do I tell her that it’s possible her father has been alive this whole time and that he’s currently being held against his will in a Russian Lab? Why is this my life? What did I do to deserve this?

"Is this about Crimson Countess?" Rosemary asks, nudging her shoulder into yours.

"What?" Your head snaps up.

"Her death was on the news. I figured that hearing her name again would make you feel a little-" She moves her head back and forth trying to decide on the word. "Weird."

"It's partly that." You bite the inside of your cheek. "I'm going out of town for a few days-"

Oh and I killed Crimson Countess.

"Where?"

"I can't tell you?" Your face scrunches up as you say it.

"What?"

You sigh and rise from the couch, pacing in front of it. How do I explain this? How do I tell her?

"Why can't you tell me where you’re going? Is this another retreat for your art again? Like when you went camping?“ She almost sounds hopeful, as if that will make any of this okay.

Nothing is okay.

"A few days ago some men showed up at my apartment looking for me."

"Really? Why?"

"They wanted to know about Ben."

Rosie frowns at the mention of her father’s name. “Why? He's dead. And it's been what? 40 years?" She pulls one of the multicolored pillows into her lap, smoothing her finger over the stripes. The shift in her mood is obvious.

"I don't know. They introduced themselves as government agents and I told them the usual lie about Indigo being my mother and that she was dead. And told them a limited amount of information-"

"I still don't see why you have to leave for a few days?" She interrupts.

You press your lips into a tight line.

This is not going to end well.

Rosemary frowns. “What did you do?”

How can she read me so well? I'm her mother, I should be the one doing the reading!

"Alright, I'm going to say something and you can't freak out." Your hands are clasped in front of your chest tightly, trying to think of a way to tell her that you killed Countess.

"What?"

"Promise me."

"I promise."

"I killed her." You say it slowly, gauging her reaction.

"Who?"

"Crimson Countess. I lost control and I killed her."

"What?" Rosie rises from the couch so quickly you think she's flying. "You killed Crimson Countess?"

"Shhh. You're going to wake Lou. And what happened to the promise-" You look down the darkened hallway where your granddaughter is asleep in her room.

Because that's just what the situation needs, for Lou to find out I'm a murderer.

"Fuck the promise! Why were you even with her?" Rosemary asks you, her eyes are still wide.

"That's why it's complicated-"

"Uncomplicate it now." She puts her hands on her hips looking ridiculously like your mother.

"I went there because I started to think about how Ben died, and I realized that I never heard it from her. I heard it from Legend and from Stan Edgar and I wanted to-“

"So you killed her?"

"She said a lot of things that upset me, but she also told me that-" The words catch in the back of your throat. "That Ben might not be dead."

"He's what?" She shouts.

"Rosemary I'm serious you have to stop shouting. Your neighbors are going to call the cops and that's the last thing I want right now."

"Well obviously because you murdered someone and covered it up!"

"Please get off the high horse. She wasn’t a good person.” You snap before you can stop yourself.

Guess the guilt is gone. Honestly, what guilt?

"Fine." She closes her eyes and takes in a deep breath. "Go on."

"The Russian army took him. Which means that there's a possibility he's still alive and I need to know." You didn't expect her to understand why you needed to go. You just hoped that she would let you.

"Are you kidding? This guy did terrible things to you and to other people! He said horrible things to you and you're going to go help him? I say just leave him to rot!” Her green eyes flash around the room, familiar in a way that makes your heart ache.

Her harsh words hurt. Rosemary only knew what you’d told her about her father and although you tried to tell her about the way Ben was when he was younger as she got older Rosemary wanted to know why you and Ben had a fight. And you didn't like lying to her. Now you consider that maybe you should have.

Because what if he was alive? Would she want to meet him? Would he care enough to want to meet her or Lou? I mean I can cut him out of my life, but if Rosemary wants to know him I shouldn't stand in her way...

You and Ben weren't exactly careful that night, but you weren't sure if he just never cared about that kind of thing before. You weren't sure if he actually wanted kids, the one time you'd asked him and he'd said it "maybe" sounded nice to have some kids. You didn't know if that was a good standard to hold him to or not, given that he was drunk when he said it.

Then again, Ben was always drunk.

"I know that you can't understand this, but even though I hate him, I can't leave him. If the roles were reversed, if it was me, Ben wouldn't leave me. Even with everything he said.” Your chest tightens. "And it hurts me to think that he's been there since 1984 with those people doing God knows what to him."

Rosie sighs. "Mom, I know that you love him, but maybe it's better this way. He’s out of you life. You’re doing better than you were. You said it yourself you felt trapped when you were a supe-“

"He might not even be there. I just need to know what happened. And that means I have to leave for a little bit and I’m not sure when I’ll be able to come back.”

"Wait what do you mean? You'd come back. You'd go over there, find out and then come back right?" She looks confused.

You press your lips together. "There's a possibility that if I do this, it will expose me, and I’ve already evaded Vought once. I’m not sure I can do it again.”

"So, what? You're gonna go over there and throw away everything for a guy that shit all over your heart and threw you away? Really? You're going to throw Lou and me away for him?" She's gesturing wildly with her hands now, eyes flashing around the room and again you're reminded of Ben.

"I'm not throwing you away-"

 It breaks your heart that she'd think that you'd do that, that you were willing to sacrifice them so easily.

Am I doing that?

"You're throwing away the life that you've built for yourself. You told me that you were more happy now that you'd been in the past. And now as soon as you hear about him you go right back? Just like how he made you leave your family-"

"He didn’t make me leave my family, it was my choice! I’m not throwing away the life that I have made and I'm not throwing away you or Lou. If you or Lou were taken, you better believe that I would fight for you, I wouldn't leave you to fend for yourselves for any amount of time. You are my family. And yes Ben is an asshole and I've hated him for the past forty years, but I can't leave him."

"I can't believe you're doing this." She pinches the bridge of her nose frustrated.

"I believed after all these years that the reason why Ben died was because I wasn't there. And Countess confirmed it."

"But he's not dead!"

"Maybe. But they made us fight so that I wouldn't be there. They wanted us to fight because they knew they wouldn't be able to stop me if they turned on him-" You try to reason with her, but you know she won’t listen.

She's just so damn stubborn. Just like someone else I know.

"That doesn't matter! That doesn't make what he did or said any less okay." Rosie snaps, before her gaze softens. “It doesn’t change anything. They may have caused you guys to fight, but Ben said those things to you. They didn’t make him say that or do that. He chose to. And I can’t believe that you’re going to forgive him-“

"I don't have to forgive him and I don’t want to. It’s not about forgiveness. I can't leave him. He might be able to turn his back on me, but I can’t stand back and ignore him if he needs help. Believe me I wish I could. I wish that after everything that happened I could walk away, but I can't.  And I know you don't understand that but-" You try to take a step towards her, but she steps back.

"That's not what I don't understand. What I don't understand is you playing with the possibility of losing this for him." She gestures around the apartment. "Do we really mean that little to you that you drop everything for someone that used you and treated you like you meant nothing?"

"You both mean everything to me. Trust me when I say that, but the fact that those two men showed up at my apartment and everything that happened with Countess means that I'm already involved. They already made this about me. I don't know why they needed to know about him, and I want to know why.”

“I can’t believe this.” She stalks past you into the kitchen to get down a bottle of tequila from the top shelf above the stainless steel refrigerator where she locks it away from Lou.

“Rosemary you’re so young-“

“Don’t make this about age. You’re older than me and you should know better.” She angrily pours a shot of tequila before knocking it back.

You try not think that the answer to all of your problems might lie in the bottom of that bottle. Sobriety definitely wasn’t getting any easier, not after you killed Countess or the revelation that Ben was possibly still alive. And especially not now in this fight.

“When you finally told me about him, it was the first time I’d ever seen you break.” Rosemary isn’t looking at you, she's looking down at the floor. “You’ve always been this strong independent figure in my life. You never needed anyone’s help to raise me. You’re so strong and formidable,  but then you told me what he did to you and I’ve never seen you look so small.”

The memories of what happened between you and Ben surge up again, but you beat them away with a stick. The last thing you wanted right now was to relive that in the middle of this fight.

She looks up, locking eyes with yours. “I don’t know why you would do this to yourself again, put yourself through that-”

“Because I still love him.” You mutter. As soon as you say it, you know it’s true. Ben did terrible things, said horrible things, but deep down you still loved the boy you grew up with. And maybe that was the problem, you imagined the boy you grew up being tortured and left to rot, and the thought broke you. “And I don’t know how to stop. Even after everything he did, we spent so many years together and the memory of them doesn't just vanish. I won’t be able to live with myself knowing that I could have helped him and I didn’t.”

Rosemary stands there halfway in the kitchen and the living room, the bottle hanging from her right hand. This time she drinks right from the bottle before answering. “If you really need to do this, then I'm going with you."

"No."

"Why not? I'm as powerful as you-"

"It's not about being powerful, I don't want this life for you, I've never wanted this life for you. I've worked so hard to keep you out of it-"

"But-"

"No. This is why I introduce you as my cousin, why you were homeschooled, why Lou is homeschooled, why Lou doesn't call me grandma, why you don't call me mom around other people. If Vought finds out about you or Lou, it won't matter. None of this will matter.”

"You don't know that." She says it softly.

"I do." You take her hand. "Rosemary, you are one of the strongest supes I've ever met and you're second generation. And Lou, we don't even know what her powers are, but I can guarantee that as soon as Vought finds out they will come for you both. There's a reason why I never told them what my real power was. I kept you both far from this and I don't want them to know."

"I don't want you to do this alone. What happens if you get taken over there?"

"What if you come with me and we both get taken? What about Lou then? What would happen to her? I don't want her to grow up without a family. Please. Just let me do this. It’ll probably take 2-3 days tops.”

Rosemary doesn’t look happy. “I don’t care how long it’s going to take. The only thing I care about is losing you.”

“They’re not going to take me-“

“Not just then.” She sighs. “I mean after. If you do have to cut and run-.” Rosemary shifts her eyes towards the hallway where Lou is asleep in her room before bringing them back to you. “I don’t care how complicated it is, we will go with you.”

“I won’t ask you to do that-“

“It’s what family does. It’s a sacrifice that I’m willing to make. I can always get another job, Lou can be homeschooled anywhere, and I don’t want Lou to live in a world where you’re not here. She needs her grandmother.”

Her words make tears prick in your eyes as you watch her determined stance. Rosemary and Lou were the only family you had left, the only two people that you cared about in the whole world. And maybe she was right, maybe you were throwing it all away for Ben. You hated yourself for wanting to help him, but you knew if the roles were reversed Ben would have come for you.

Well, the old Ben would have come to get me, maybe not Soldier Boy.

"You got another glass?" You ask with a sigh, looking at the bottle in her hand.

"You sure?" Rosemary raises an eyebrow.

"I'm gonna need it to get through the next few days. There's no way I can do any of this shit sober." You mutter following her into the kitchen.

Ten minutes later, you're both sitting at her kitchen table with a bottle of whiskey and a fresh bottle of tequila between you. The haze of alcohol is making you feel infinitely better given the past few days you've had.

The whiskey burns pleasantly as you take a drink from the bright green sippy cup in your hand. Rosemary hadn’t washed dishes so this was the best she had. You knew you probably looked ridiculous.

Rosemary eyes you. "I can't believe you're drinking."

"I really needed this." You snort. "Given the past few days I've had-"

"I also can't believe you killed her."

"She wasn't a good person." You frown remembering what Countess said to you. "Plus I never liked her even before everything that happened. I know that's not a god enough reason to kill someone, but I can't change that now." You run your fingers through your hair to push it back from your face, trying to lose yourself in the buzz, but Ben keeps flashing through your mind.

Damn it, he's invaded by subconscious again.

Another few minutes pass as Rosemary sits there taking a sip from the bottle in front of her. “Do you really miss him that much?”

You pause considering the question. “Yes and no. I miss the person he used to be, before all of this. I think that’s the problem. I’m holding on to the person I grew up with. That’s all I keep thinking. That boy I knew being tortured in that lab.”

“It’s why you stayed on Payback for so long?”

“Yeah.” You take another drag of whiskey frowning at the sippy cup. “Sometimes I’d get glimpses, shapes really and it would make me forget who he was as Soldier Boy and then when I woke up the next day, Soldier Boy was back and Ben was gone.”

There were always quiet moments when it was just the two of you, when you forgot who he became and all you saw was the boy you used to know. When the cameras weren't rolling, the team was gone, and Ben was crashing at your apartment, for some unknown reason. He would do that, continue to show up at your apartment like he had when you were kids. It never made sense to you, especially because he only slept in your room growing up to escape his father. You couldn't think of a reason why he slept at your apartment when you were adults.

Probably just didn't want to be alone.

“That’s why you slept with him?”

“Yes. That night all I saw was the old Ben. And then I woke up with Soldier Boy.” You bite the inside of your cheek as the memory of the morning that followed washes over your mind. You never understood why he ran to Countess, never understood how he could push you away after all the years you spent together. Why he lied and said that he didn't care, because he had to. After everything you’d been through Ben had to care. You remember what Countess said to you and your shoulders sink under the weight.

Or maybe he was just a better liar than I thought.

“Do you regret sleeping with him?”

You look up at your daughter. She really does look like Ben. She was strong, determined, stubborn, and the way she held herself was so confident. And even though she would have been one of the strongest supes she chose to be a nurse, chose to devote her life to helping people instead of the shock and awe of the superhero world. You were so proud of her. You wondered if Ben would be too.

“No.”

“Why? You say that you loved who he was and then he-"

“Because he gave me you. I wouldn’t change a thing. You and Lou are the only thing that matter to me. I know you hate it when I say this, but you’re so young, you have no idea what it’s like to live as long as I have without changing. And whenever it was just me and Soldier Boy I was so alone until Ben came back. I don’t think I would have lasted these years without you Rosemary, think I would have given in to Vought or maybe gone to the government-“

“Are you serious?” Her eyebrows pull together as a worried frown graces her lips. She knew what you were saying.

“Yeah. But I am happy. Happy for the first time in a long time. The problem now is dealing with everything over there.”

“How about I come with you and wait in a hotel-" Rosemary tries again.

“No. It has to be me. I have to go.”

She sighs. “I just hate the idea that you’re not going to come back.”

“I’m going to come back." You smile. "If you can remember I'm a supe too-"

“If they’ve been able to hold him all these years, that means they could take you too.”

“Don’t know if I should be scared or impressed.” You snort into the cup.

“It not funny.”

“Fine, if I’m not back in a week, then I give you permission to come. But I don’t think you’ll need to.”

"You're old and decrepit. Probably will need my help-"

"Low blow."

She smiles faintly.

You roll the glass in your hand for a moment, watching the amber liquid swirl against the green sides. "If he is alive, would you want to meet him?"

Rosemary takes a long pull of tequila, but doesn't answer for a long time. "When I was a kid, sometimes I'd imagine that he was still alive-"

"What?" You looked at her genuinely shocked. You hadn't realized that she ever thought about Ben.

"That he would walk up our long driveway at our house in Maine and we'd be a family. That was before you told me about that night." She runs one of her fingers down the label of the bottle frowning. "I don't know. After what he did to you, I don't know.  Plus I’m almost forty years old, don’t really think I need a father now.”

This time you reach for the bottle of Whiskey, not bothering with the empty sippy cup. "Maybe I shouldn't have told you what he did. Should have let you fantasize about him, see the good-"

"I'm glad you did." She squeezes your hand. “And you didn't just show me the bad, you told me about the good times too."

"Maybe too much bad."

"I don't hate him. I'm mad at him for what he did to you, but I don't hate him."

"So it's a maybe?"

"I guess. I say that now, but I think my reaction if I do ever meet him will probably be the complete opposite. I’m also not sure if he should be around Lou.”

“Ben wouldn’t hurt her.” You press your lips together. "I don't think he would."

“Maybe not intentionally.”

"He's not a bad guy, well-" You take a sip from the bottle, remembering the fight. “He’s just complicated. I guess.”

And I'm still making excuses for him. 

“Sounds like you’re going to forgive him.” Rosemary is frowning at you.

For someone who wants to maybe meet him, she’s acting like she still doesn’t want me to forgive him.

“Trust me, our story is over, finally. I’m just going to bust him out of wherever the hell he is and then I’ll never have to see him ever again.” You remember what you yelled at one another the night of the premiere and it strengthens your resolve. You didn't want to forgive him, you just wanted to get him the hell out of Russia and maybe slap him around a bit and then go home and finally move on with your life. Because you were slowly realizing you never did, you just packed it all away deep down and pretended to move on. "This isn't about forgiveness, it's so I can live with myself."

"I just don't think you should forgive him so easily."

"I don't want to and I'm not going to. He doesn't deserve that." You mutter that last part into the bottle, because it was true. Ben didn't deserve your forgiveness, hell, he didn't deserve you risking your life to find him, but you had to.  His death left such a big hole in your life and you beat yourself up about it for years, you not being there for him when he needed you the most. But now, going to Russia, getting him back, meant that you could finally move on, that you could close the hole and finally be at peace.

Rosemary leans back in her chair with a sigh. “Promise me,  you're going to come back."

"I promise. Not even Homelander can stop me." You smile at her. “Now I just got to figure out where Ben is.”

Easy. Yeah right.

Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series let me know :)

Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303

@deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs

@bughill126, @simplyfixated @sleepjam, @tiredstrangerr @freefallthoughts

@onlyangel-444 @lov3vivian @mxltifxnd0m @mayafatimakhan

[selfaware-promise-au]

You are thinking about Ether and Hollows. You don't find an answer, but you find information.

Warning: OOC. Implied yandere. OC. Implications of human experimentation. A P.O.V change after "readmore".

------

"Staff Only" room of "Random Play" store looked messier, than usual. Almost all the floor was covered in papers. And in the middle of 'paper sea' of texts, newspapers, documents and pictures, you were sitting.

You were reading one of the newspaper articles. One of the many about fall of an old capital. There were nothing new in this article. Same old information that 'traveled' through one newspaper to another during the first days of the catastrophe.

At least, it was a good distraction from the glaring siblings.

"[Y/N], I knew, that this room aren't that clean on better days, but don't you think, that this is too much?"

Belle's shadow movement gave you a good idea of her movements. She didn't approach you, but she did cross her arms on her chest.

You mumbled under your nose.

"I promised, that I will clean after I finish."

How much you have told that already? Three or four times?

Wise's shadow start tapping its foot against the floor.

"It's not about cleaning. You asked for a quiet place to read, and we agreed to let you here. You didn't mention, that you will start researching. Can't you do it at home?"

You shook your head.

"Can't. I can't take materials from this world to mine. And it's easier to get more information, while I am here."

'Because in the Real World I will have to trust in wiki, tropes and theories to do my research. And in my situation they are bad sources of information.'

Wise didn't drop the subject.

"Fine, I see. Another point. Why can't you do your research in another else's place?"

You tried not to sigh. Their annoyance reasonable. But you don't have another place to do your research.

There, in your folder (or, currently, on the floor), on top of information from this world, you kept a lot of information about divinity, Teyvat and HSR World. Only a few people were allowed to see it, Phaethon Siblings included. So, it was safe to research from"Random Play".

It wasn't safe from other places. Even the slightest possibility of someone "not-autorised" seeing more secret information was too big of a risk for you.

Wise didn't wait for your answer.

"How should Belle and I work? Step over you?"

You probably should stop for today. You start putting papers back into the folder.

"Sorry, just gave me a minute."

With the corner of your eye, you saw, that Wise and Belle start helping you to pick up the papers. You also heard sounds of little steps, coming from behind your back. Soon, the sound of paper joined them. It seems, that Eous also decided to help.

You four work in silence, until Wise spoke.

"So, have you succeeded in founding anything new?"

You shrugged.

"No. The Hollows and Ether remained as mysterious as they were."

Belle chuckled.

"Something tells me, that you didn't mean "mysterious Hollows and Ether" as we, and others from New Eridu mean."

You stayed silent.

Yes, Ether was strange. It came out of nowhere, Hollows just appeared. But, even back then, people have resistance to Ether.

Was it always here? If yes, why Hollows appeared back than at that exact moment?

Did it appear from someone or something? From what? And why people had the resistance, if it was something new, strange, dangerous and deadly...

"Ehn- nah! (Oh, I knew this person! Wise, Belle, you saw them too, right?)" You three turned around towards Eous.

He was holding a pencil drawing of a person's face. Of that person.

You froze. Your eyes stared at the picture.

breathe... blink... breathe... blink...

Neither Wise nor Belle noticed your discomfort.

Belle's eyes light up in recognition.

"Oh, yes, it's them, right, Wise?"

Wise nodded.

"Yes. I didn't see them that often, but I still remember them."

"Ehn- nah-nah. (Of course, it's them! I saw them quite often, and I remember...)"

speak... ask...

"Did you see them in the store?"

Eous shook his head.

"Ehn- nah-nah-nah. Ehn. (No. They were Carole's good friend... Or more than a friend. But they spent a lot of time with her.)"

Suddenly, bangboo's digital eyes shifted, looking 'concerned'.

"Ehn- nah? Ehn-nah-nah. (Um… [Y/N], are you alright? You didn't look so good.)"

Phaethon Siblings looked equally worried.

You forced yourself to look away from the picture.

"I will be fine... I just need some time alone. To collect my thoughts."

Wise didn't look convinced.

"[Y/N], that person, did they have something to do with Ether? With Carole Arna's disappearance?"

You didn't answer. Now, it was Belle's turn.

"[Y/N], if you knew something about..."

You force yourself to spoke.

"I don't know anything specific."

Before both siblings could try to interrogate you, you almost yell.

"There is a lot going on behind the scene! I can't just force myself into revealing the information about it. You could practically put a target on yourself with most of that information."

Phaethon Siblings looked at each other. Belle's warm hands were put on your shoulders.

"[Y/N], we could handle it..."

You tried not to cry.

"No... Please, I promise, that I will tell you more, when time came. But, for now, please, let me keep it a secret."

They were still silent. Just looking at each other.

Suddenly, Belle quickly pulled you in a hug.

"I... I will believe you."

Wise just pet your shoulder.

"I second that."

You smiled slightly. Well, there was something you could share.

"Thank you. Um... There is something I can tell you. No matter, who they were to Carole Arna, a friend or a partner. They are easily attached. If they are the one, who kidnapped her, she is alive. And with them."

The room was silent. Even Eous's ears dropped. He finally dropped the picture.

Wise found his voice first.

"Thank you. It's not much, but it is important."

Belle nodded, agreeing with brother.

You closed your eyes.

And thoughts flooded your mind.

Of the picture, Eous found. Of pencil drawing of Alaric, Tyrannical Creator, of the enemy.

They were walking between mortals.

They have a connection with Carole Arna.

Who was Carole Arna? Their lover? Their friend?

Something tells you, that there was something more to the fall of old capital than experiment gone wrong.

And they were still here. Tyrant were still here.

You were scared. The terror's claws squeeze your heart.

So, you do the only right thing. You made a mental note to be more careful. And to ask, if it was possible for your bodyguards (manly, Caelus and Kafka) to start traveling with you in New Eridu world.

And to let your emotions out, when you return to Real World.

You have friends to make and worlds to safe.

_____

Their first date was normal. As normal as a date with a god could go.

Alaric made stars dance, freshest, perfectly cooked food appear at the thin air and weather change by their will.

Alaric said, that they love her. They promised to make her the happiest woman in this world.

And Carole Arna thought, that she was the luckiest person in the world.

------

With time, mind take over the emotions.

Alaric were a god, and it was a fact.

Ether was their creation.

Why Alaric, who claimed to love her and love humans, would make it? Why would they want to destroy their own creation?

Alaric laughed her questions off. They kissed her on a cheek, promising, that one day they will tell her everything.

And for now, why not visit their other worlds? She will be treated as a queen and each one of them.

Carole Arna agreed, mentally preparing to work on H.D.D. when she returns.

-------

Carole Arna felt sick.

She couldn't stop thinking on documents Alaric showed her.

They propose to her. Carole Arna rejected them.

Alaric fell before her. They were kissing her hands, begging for another chance.

"I love you, Carole. I love you. What can I do to make you happy?"

It was wrong. Alaric were strong. They were always in control.

Carole spoke about being a mother. She wasn't even considering having her own biological kids, she already has Wise, Belle and Eous. But it was the first thing, that came to mind.

And Alaric told her about their perfect kids.

About fusing flesh with powers and flesh. About mind control of people. About staging the birth of needed kid from chosen parents.

"But it's horrible! You are forcing people into..."

Alaric looked confused.

"Horrible? Why? They had happy marriages."

Alaric showed the notes they made. About successful experiments. And about failures.

Graphic, disturbing images will hunt her forever.

"You see, I am a professional, there will be no more mistakes! So, will you marry me?"

They looked proud. They looked hopeful.

They expected Carole to say 'yes'.

She asked for more time to think about their proposal.

Carole Arna was happy, that H.D.D. was working perfectly.

-----

On their next meeting, she demanded answers.

"Why would you need to experiment on creating an artificial god? What were you doing?"

They smiled and lean forward for a cheek kiss.

"Are you worried, that I have someone else before you? My love, I promise, that you are my first and only one."

She moved and demand again.

"You didn't answer."

And they answered.

About their sick ideology. About a 'plague' of a free will. About seeing their actions as rightful and for everyone's good.

"You also think, that I am right? You still love me, right? I am a good god. I am doing it for everyone..."

She hit them.

"You are not good. You are not a god. You are a perversion. The sick lunatic."

She looks them in the eyes.

"I regret falling for you. I will stop you. I will help everyone, who goes against you."

Carole Arna left.

----

In a few days, old capital fall.

She managed to save Wise and Belle.

Alaric mortal followers, who just a few days ago bow before Creator's Chosen One, were attacking Helios Academy. Demanding for her blood.

Alaric's hand grabbed her, taking her away.

They grabbed.

They yanked.

They pulled.

-----

The moon was a scary place.

Carole Arna was a mortal. A mortal, trapped in a glass sphere up on the moon.

It was created by a deity.

Deity, who were in love with her.

Carole Arna hated that deity.

She hated, when they bow before the sphere, proclaiming their love. Beginning Carole to take them back.

She hopped, that one day, she could get free. And after that, she will make sure, that monster will fall.

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

Hello! I absolutely love your teen reader stories! I was wondering if I could request a teen! reader who is a really good baker. They come up with new recipes every week and have the bsd cast try them. It would be really cute if they made cakes for the casts birthdays which matched them. Maybe they bake for ranpo a lot considering he is an absolute sweet lover and reader is just an sweetheart who is often misunderstood. Thank you and take care!

Baked goods

Self-Aware! Platonic! Ranpo Edogawa x GN! Teen! Reader x Self-Aware! Platonic! Sigma

Description: You always liked to bake. And BSD Cast want to try your food.

Warning: OOC, English is my second language.

You always like to bake.

Biscuits, breads, muffins, cakes, brownies, cookies, pastries, pies and so much more.

You always heard, how people were calling you a 'perfect future spouse' and 'someone will be lucky, having you looking after the house'. They called you a 'good kid, preparing to make their future spouse's life sweet'.

You didn't get these people. You like baking just because. You are not doing it to hypothetical someone. You are doing it for yourself.

Still, no matter, how often you told people otherwise, this people just laugh and proclaimed that 'they knew better why you are interested in cooking training'.

At the end, you stop trying to make other people see your point of view. They can believe whatever they want. You will just continue baking treats, no matter what others say. You will create new recipes and let others try them.

At least, that was your plan.

__________

Life has its ups and downs.

Because of some life circumstances, you had to live with your uncle and aunt.

Your uncle and aunt owned a bakery.

You thought, that it will be your chance to share your treats with other people.

Unfortunately, your uncle and aunt weren't very fond of this idea of yours.

First, as they explained, they can't let an underage person work for them on a full day.

When you said you were fine with simple helping, with no payment, your aunt told you.

"[Y/N], dear, I don't think that your recipes will be popular. You are a creative baker, I am not questioning it, it's just..."

Your uncle continue.

"It's just, our clients, and people in general, are want to eat familiar treats. Not something new. Bedside, personalized treats sounds too much of a hassle to make. And I assure you, clients will find any reason to start complaining about their order been wrong."

At the end, you manage to convince your uncle and aunt let you bake something with the leftover ingredients every Friday.

They still refuse to let their clients taste it, even for free. But, at least, you have something sweet every weekend.

It was nice to lay on your bed, eating cookies and watching or reading BSD.

___________

Today was your lucky day. There were many leftover ingredients, and your uncle and aunt allow you to hake as much as you want. So, you were baking cookies. You were absorbed in the process and were mumbling under your breath.

"Some cinnamon... Some vanilla... Fruits, sugar, milk... Jam... Chocolate chips..."

You decide to bake as many cookies as you can, while you have a chance.

You were so absorbed in baking, that you didn't notice, that your phone start glowing.

You were waiting for the last bunch of cookies to be ready, when the room was filled with white light.

You gasp and cover your face with both hands.

When the light faded, you saw a few dozens' people in the kitchen. Very familiar people.

You looked at BSD Characters, who were standing in the kitchen. BSD Characters looked back at you.

You thought, that, maybe, someone was pranking you. But, you admitted, that none of your friends or relatives would prepare such an elaborate prank.

And then a golden light shines above your head. A gloved hand appears right above your head and pat your head. Gogol chuckled.

"In real world, you are even more adorable, [Y/N]."

Okay, this is not a drill! BSD Characters are real and they knew your name. You feel nervous. How this possible? What if they are angry at you? What if they want to hurt you?

It seems, that Fukuzawa took notice at your nervousness. Silver-haired man take a step forward. His voice was soft and warm.

"[Y/N], please, don't be afraid. I assure you, we are not here to hurt you or your family. The only thing we want is to pay for your kindness. You treated us and our pain with respect, as we were real, despite the fact, that for you, we were fictional characters."

The room was silent. You still were confused. Until you heard the beeps from the oven. The cookies were ready.

You quickly grabbed the pair of oven-gloves and took the baking sheet from the oven.

You asked.

"Um... Can we discuss this over a cup of tea and cookies?"

______________

At the end of the talk, you were sure in a number of things. First, BSD Cast really wasn't mad at you. They seem to like you. Second, now, after they ate your cookies, Ranpo and Sigma were adoring you.

You wonder if it will lead to something interesting.

_______________

Life has its ups and downs.

Because of some life circumstances, you are now living with BSD cast.

Jounou and Fitzgerald managed to convince your uncle and aunt to give the custody over you to them.

And now you can bake as much as they want.

Your new family likes to sample treats you have made. No matter what or how strange the recipe, they at least try it, before tell you their opinions.

And each birthday you made them cakes. Personalized cakes.

_______

⭐⭕ Cake with marzipan dolls for Q.

🌂 Rose themed cake for Kouyou.

👘🗡️ Cake with cream cats and chocolate cat paws for Fukuzawa.

🦝 Book shaped cake for Poe.

🛏️ Cake with marzipan computer and futon for Katai.

🔪 Simple black chocolate and fruit cake for Gin.

🐈‍⬛ Cat shaped cake for Natsume.

🍋 Lemon flavored cake for Kajii.

💉 Pie with sweet red bean chazuke for Mori

🍇 Grape cake for Steinbeck.

👥 Latte flavored cake for Mizuki.

🧥 Tea and figs flavor led cake for Akutagawa.

👻 Pie with cinnamon and apples for Oguri.

🌸 Cake with chili and grapefruit flavor for Tetchou. Somehow, it turns out good.

👩🏻 Strawberry pie for Naomi.

🤡 Pie with pears and pear jam for Gogol.

👶🧒🧓 Blueberry cake for Teruko.

🍷 Caribbean rum cake for Chuuya. You were making it under a supervision of Sigma.

🔫 Peach cake for Higuichi.

🐯 Green tea cake for Atsushi.

🍎 Candy Apples cake for Shibusawa.

⚔️ Gin and tonic tray bake squares for Fukuchi. You were making it under a supervision of Sigma.

🫖 Cake with rock candy for Goncharov.

🪢🦀 Cake with marzipan crabs for Dazai.

✝️ Red velvet cake for Hawthorne.

🚬 Plum pie for Hirotsu.

🌨️ White cake for Junchirou.

🧲🩹 Cake with marzipan hyacinths for Tachihara.

🐋 Sea themed cake for Melville.

🐙 Chocolate cake for Lovecraft.

🐄 Apple and grape pie for Kenji.

📒 Notebook shaped cake for Doppo.

👧 Mango pie for Aya.

💰 Cake with chocolate coins for Fitzgerald.

💧 Orange pie for Jounou.

💻 Brownies for Ango.

🎧 Hot chocolate cake for Rimbaud.

🕵🏻 Cake with any candy you manage to find to Ranpo.

🍛 Some simple fruit cake for Oda.

🐰 Crêpes for Kyouka.

👒 Tea biscuits for Mitchell.

🧛 Halloween themed cake for Bram.

🐀 Cheesecake for Fyodor.

⌚ Sweet rolls for Gide.

🪶 Coffee flavored cake for Alcott.

♊ Tarts for Twain.

☕ Cherry flavored cake for Lucy.

⛩️ Sweet bread with nuts for Taneda.

🩺 Cake with Japanese sweets for Yosano.

🕶️ Cake with marzipan mahjong pieces or Ayatsuji.

🍵 Cat paw shaped cake for Kirako.

🃏 Oreo cake for Sigma.

🍰 Strawberry shortcake for Elise.

🇫🇷 Baba Au rum for Paul. You were making it under a supervision of Sigma.

__________

As for Ranpo and Sigma...

Ranpo proclaim you The World's Greatest Baker, assistant of The World's Greatest Detective. You baked him buns, muffins, cookies and so much more. Ranpo is always so happy to taste your treats.

Sigma enjoys your cookies. He is the first one to try new cookies you have made. He and Junchirou also like to help you with baking.

Life is full of baking goods and friends and family who like your hobby and support you.

[atierrorian]

Memorial of the Dead

Context: For as long as you can remember, there has always been a festival to remember and mourn the dead. And at this time around, a lot of paranormal activities started happening in the vicinity of your home...

Warnings: Female reader, Yandere behavior, obsession, haunting, panic attack, kidnapping?, hallucinations, death, blood, ooc.

Note: If you do not do well with these kinds of warnings then I suggest you stop reading for your own good and health!

For as long as you can remember back when you were just a kid, there had always been a festival to remember, mourn, and celebrate the dead. You always enjoyed the festival since it was such a memorial festival and has such a meaning.

Your mother would always tell you all kinds of stories about the dead around this time of year and they always interested you and you always wanted to hear more. One of the reasons why you always loved the festival.

"Your favorite story was called "Memorial of the Dead," a tale about a boy who died while attempting to bring back his brother from the dead due to a serious mistake. As punishment for his egregious misdeed, the boy was condemned to eternally roam in search of a way to reunite with his little brother. According to some, his translucent appearance can be spotted in the graveyards wandering and always had a longing to be with his little brother again.

And as he wandered, he was mocked by the Gods as they watched him like he was some sort of show that was purely for entertainment. And maybe in that case, he was. He was only another entertainment by the Gods above.

That was a story you loved very dearly. You admired his passion and determination of getting his brother back, but in the end, all was for naught as he was punished for his doings and forever wandering for all eternity in this world.

And now it was this time of year where everyone would now began to celebrate and mourn for the dead. You didn't had that much excitement anymore like you used to back when you were younger, but that's just the way it is. Although you can't deny that you always had a feeling of excitement.

I guess you just wanted something new.

You sighed as you walked through the festival, banners hanging, lanterns hanging from the street posts, candles being lit everywhere for the dead, so on and so forth. The people were mourning for their loved ones and lit up a floating lantern and released it from the sky. You had your own and were going to the graveyard.

Where your Mother was now.

No one really knew how she died and you didn't either. You were only 15 when she died and now you were 19. It had been four years since she died mysteriously and you missed her dearly. You wished to bring her back just like the boy did with his little brother.

But you knew better, besides, it was just a fairytale anyways. Not like it was real in the first place right? But you sometimes had a longing for your Mother to be back and wished for some miracle she would be back and you both would be happy again. But atlast, such things can never happen. As the Gods hates such things.

And in present time, strange things began to happen in your home. The lights would always flicker and at night the wind would get cold and the windows would sometimes be open despite closing them and making sure they were shut tight. And at night, you always heard something break.

And in those events, you would always see a silhouette hiding in the shadow, watching you with their glowing yellow eyes.

You thought it was some sort of punishments from the Gods by your longing and hope. But you should have been more careful, as you were merely another puppet for their entertainment.

And maybe, you should have seen the signs sooner or later, but never late.

Once you finished talking to your Mother's grave and lit up the floating lantern to the sky, you returned home to get some rest and hoped for this day to end and begrudgingly try to get up in the morning and do the same thing over and over again and then just repeat. Besides the events in the night.

You don't exactly remember when it started. It started small when you felt a air chilling cold as the window was opened, you thought you just forgot to closed it and went on your way once you closed it.

And that's when things started going downhill from that point on.

You always felt eyes on you all the time everywhere inside your house and during the Festival. It creeped you out and you felt goosebumps every time you had a feeling someone was watching you. You considered moving out on occasions but decided against it since you didn't want to leave your Mother.

But maybe you really should have just left and never looked back.

Because the paranormal activities became too much until the suspect finally decided to show themselves.

And now, you were in this situation. And it's all your fault that you were now in this mess.

You should have trusted your instincts, you should have trusted your gut and went somewhere far away from this place.

But you didn't.

And now you were locked in your room with no way out as every exit was locked and your back pressed against the wall as you finally came face to face with him. Your breath was ragged as you looked at his eyes, shining and reflecting the moonlight. But there was something off about his eyes.

There was obsession, deep obsession within his eyes as he continued to look at you, curiously as you tried to keep your distance from him.

Was he the ghost your Mother always told you stories about? He looks so much like the boy your Mother described. And the most distinctive feature was his blue flamed hair. And If so, then why is he here? And what did he want from you?

You gulped down your saliva and asked him with a shaky breath-

"Why are you here? And what do you want from me?" You said as you kept pressing your back against the cold stone wall, trying your hardest to really keep your distance. But it was quite hard considering you were already at the corner of the room and there was no where else you could go now.

Nowhere to run.

He had you right where he wanted you, like a cat finally cornering its mouse, finally ready to devour its prey.

He had a grin that spelt trouble and I felt my nerves flare up, his gaze wanting to make myself smaller and smaller with each passing second he keeps gazing at me with those yellow glaring eyes.

What felt like hours that were most likely just a few seconds, he finally decided to talk.

"You and I, we share similar passions and feelings. And I can't help but be attracted to you." He said as if it was the most normal thing to say to someone.

"And besides, you always looked so cute whenever you slept you know? I had cameras all over your house."

His words made you freeze, he watched you sleep?? And had cameras all over your house? What else could he have seen he shouldn't have seen? And if he's a ghost then why does he need cameras?

As if he read your mind, he shrugged.

"Because I have limits, I can't always watch you with my own eyes so I decided to watch you from cameras, I don't like it but it would do in the meantime I wasn't around."

At this point you felt your heart racing rapidly, your breath became heavier with each second that passes and your body trembling as you felt dizzy. You were disgusted by his behavior and all this time you never knew he had cameras all over you. And we share similar passions and feelings??

"Well it really doesn't matter now since I have you now, and for all eternity you'll be stuck with me forever and ever, I won't lose you like I lost him." He said before taking small steps towards me before hugging me, trying to comfort me.

I suddenly felt a sharp pain before I coughed up blood.

Wait, blood?

I looked down to my hand and saw blood on my hands as I subconsciously touched my abdomen, feeling a gash on my stomach.

He then started saying some words I didn't know nor did I care. All I cared about was the blood on my hands, and now on the floor.

"Shh, it's alright, I'll be here when you wake up alright? Like I said, we'll be together for all eternity."

That was the last thing I heard before closing my eyes shut and leaned against him.

The Gods were really cruel huh? But this was a blessing for him. This was a curse for you.

.

.

.

"The end!" A young woman said as she closed the book in her hand, looking at the 6 year old in front of her who still wanted to hear more.

"That's it? No happy endings?" The girl asked as she was confused, most fairy tales she heard always ended with an happy ending. She didn't like this story as it didn't had one and it was sad for her.

The young woman patted the young girl's head and shook her head sadly.

"There are no happy endings in this one I'm afraid little one." She said before yawning and stretching, getting ready for bed now. The six year old merely pouted, wanting to hear an alternative ending besides the bad ending.

The woman noticed the girl's expression as her face softened and sighed.

"Listen, not all fairytales end in happy endings I'm afraid, there are just stories that won't always end up being a happy ending like everyone else wants it too be. And that's the way it is." She said as she tried to consult the girl who was still pouting.

She sighed as she scooted over next to her and tried giving her some comfort to make her feel better.

"You'll understand soon when you get older. But go to sleep now okay?" The woman said to her daughter as her daughter nodded, but still not understanding her words.

"Good."

As she was about to get up and go to her room, she suddenly was stopped by her daughter.

"Mama, what was the title called again?"

The Mother smiled and replied happily-

"Memorial of the Dead"

Hii! How are you guys today? I hope you're doing well and I'm sorry if I'm not posting very often. I've became very busy recently but I am still trying to post every now and then! But I hope you enjoyed this!

[burgerrat]

@hofnarrofficial said: gimme everything you got just bury me alive (only if thats possible ofc lmao)

Ok.

Turbo's favourite movie is Herbie: Fully Loaded

He has ALWAYS been flamboyant/effeminate like you see King Candy being. I hate seeing people portray Turbo as this perpetually grumpy/angry bitter person all the time all because of the revelation scene being the one 'real scene' we have of Turbo in his original form. The reason why Ralph wouldn't recognize the similar behaviour pattern is because he didn't know Turbo well enough since he rarely ever left his own game unless it was to go to Tapper's to have a root beer and brag about winning to anyone who'd listen (mainly Felix). Need a 'draw/write Turbo being silly and goofy like King Candy is' solidarity.

Contrary to popular belief, he does like the color pink- he just has a very specific preference for that particular salmon shade of pink.

Turbo and the twins all had racecar beds to sleep in back in TurboTime.

Candybug's desire to take over the entire arcade at the end of the movie is his new cy-bug coding speaking; all Turbo has ever wanted is to race again and be in the spotlight. He would struggle to control his bug instincts not just in terms of resisting beacons of light but also in terms of acting upon intrusive thoughts in general. Mix that with anger and hopelessness that he'll likely never be able to drive again in this new form and you've got the perfect recipe for disaster, because what more does he have to lose?

Do not misunderstand: I too dislike the trope of 'he's just misunderstood' since that is far from the truth, but that doesn't mean he can't have moments where you feel empathy for him (at least in my case): you are programmed to be the protagonist of your world, the best, that is your sole purpose in the life you have. You become addicted to the attention you recieve- foolishly not thinking once that it's possible that may not be the same thing tomorrow. Once that is suddenly taken away, you don't understand why- you're the best. And because you are the best, instead of processing your losses normally, you won't let go. You're instead determined to take back what was rightfully yours. By any means possible. Making the biggest mistake of your life- you kill not just your neighbors but your own home out of impulse. You are to blame for the choice you took- guilt becomes rage, rage becomes bitterness, bitterness becomes calculative; why cry over spilled milk? The damage is done, and your code is desperately crying out to do what you were made to do: race. All you can do is start anew... don't dwell on the past if you want to have the spotlight again, processing your mistake doesn't matter anyway; and so, once a new racing game is in town- you'd be frothing at the mouth to hop in after decades of isolation, wouldn't you? You'd do anything, if you were that desperate and awfully selfish.

This leads us to the following: Turbo had a mental breakdown during his years of isolation, mainly because he was unable to race; this is why he laughs and giggles no matter the mood he's in as King Candy. It's a form of tic.

This might be a bit OOC? But whatever. Hilariously enough King Candy is a somewhat decent(take that with a grain of salt, I'll elaborate in a moment) fatherly figure: he treats the SR racers like they're his adopted kids. I say somewhat decent because of course he completely excludes Vanellope and because he picks favourites; Taffyta, Rancis and Candlehead are his golden children and because of that, he's sometimes willing to swallow his pride and let them cross the finish line before him.

Taffyta is VERY competitive and sometimes will get unreasonably aggressive to win and that's something KC admires in her because it reminds him so much of himself and the bond he used to have with the Twins, especially when competing. Another reason why Taffyta bullies Vanellope is because she knows King Candy dislikes her wish to compete and she feels like this is something that would please him regardless of his approval of it.

Again maybe kind of OOC-ish but I sincerely don't think Turbo outright hates Vanellope herself like. As a person; she has done nothing, but she does pose a threat to blowing his cover and he is not going to allow her. The one thing that bothers him a lot about her is her stubborness to race and always finding a way to weasel into the Random Roster Race. During the tunnel scene where he straight up becomes violent towards her, you can tell she's never seen him this angry to her before; this leads me to believe he never blew up on her before because, regardless of how much of a threat she posed for him; in his mind- he figured she likely would never really be in a situation where she would actually cross the finish line, and she's just a child, so why bother? Of course. That is until she sprints right past him on the race track and the rest is history. (And I have to clarify again I AM NOT justifying his actions; there is no 'justifying' any of it. This is an observation because of the reactions/expressions/etc. seen in the scene.)

Writing that previous hc reminded me of this and I just had to include it because I can SO see this happening 😭 it's hilarious and wholesome in a way.

I saw something about this on @king-crawler 's blog and I feel like I should bring this up bc it rubbed me the wrong way: I donno about you but to me, Turbo programming himself as King of Sugar Rush is not ego thing (not the main reason behind it at least!); it's to avoid suspicion in general within the game because ALL of the SR racers are children. It would be suspicious and really fuckin' weird to have a character programmed as an adult that isn't an NPC/side-character like Sour Bill or the donut cops to just be among them like nothing, regardless if he wipes their memories they (or other candy subjects) will question it. He's not stupid, in the game there's supposed to be a royal figure, no? So, it'd make perfect sense for that figure to be a supposedly 'wise' King that looks after all his subjects and makes sure rules aren't broken. So to me it's less of something done out of selfishness and more of just being able to go by unnoticed, he programmed himself as King to fit in with the whole 'monarchy' concept within SR. At the end of the movie when Vanellope says she doesn't want to be a princess, you get a little glimpse of how much the candy subjects depend and rely on a 'higher figure' to function.

As King Candy, he believes himself to be cute. (adding this side note just in case bc I shit you not this is genuinely something people have argued and mocked me over: don't come at me for this. I have my opinion, you have yours and I'm not going to change it for you; as a fan for a whole decade who has known in tge past other fans, there ARE people that find him cute as I do /gen /lh) He shamelessly indulges in that and he WILL use that as a manipulation tactic to get what he wants- sometimes playing with your emotions as well by tugging at your heart strings and overall painting himself to be a 'frail silly old man' in sn exaggerated manner so you'll give in to whatever he wants- and once you agree suddenly the 'frail' old monarch has an outburst of energy and joy, completely shedding off this fragile-pitiful facade.

Turbo has somehow rescued the Turbo Twins before his game was unplugged and I have evidence to prove this:

He has their codes tucked into his own (bad example I know but kind of like how an opossum mom keeps her joeys in her pouch); he keeps them in a dormant state this way by not allowing them to have separate code boxes of their own. The reasons behind this are simple: he doesn't want two characters that very obviously don't belong in the game to roam around freely, he has enough trouble with Vanellope as it is; and he knows that if he lets them awaken and respawn, they will criticize him for the path he chose to go down- and he doesn't want to deal with that because, for him, it would be pointless and it'd only bring frustration he doesn't need. He would rather keep them as ghosts of the past hidden in his pocket.

Speaking of Vanellope: Turbo is awfully envious of her driving skills, she's the first racer that has bested him on the track. Another selfish reason why he doesn't want her to race- goodness forbid a child beating you at what you're passionate about and arriving in second place.

When overly emotional- be it positive or negative feelings- King Candy would sometimes temporarily glitch back to his original form as Turbo because his code is old, filled to the brim with stuff, it's bound to have a few crack and tears here and there, like an old but still functioning car with a rusty engine; this issue has only accentuated after the glitching-exchange during the tunnel scene.

Speaking of which- because there were little to no censorships in 70's videogames, Turbo bleeds. It's pixelated blood because it cannot be processed through the programming of Sugar Rush since the game was not made to have any graphic themes in it. If one of the racers gets hurt- they quite literally just bleed coding.

Turbo often smokes.

Turbo sometimes gets sick of eating nothing but candy and will send out Sour Bill to get him something salty to eat from another game. He has his own little stack of junk food and other non-sweets within the castle.

He's not just the King of Candy, he's THE LORD OF THE DANCE! (watch at your own risk I warn you /hj)

CURSED JOKES ASIDE I unironically like to think he is a good dancer. Nobody beats him at tap-dancing and The Bus Stop. (He's from the 70's so it'd make sense he's familiar with a lot of funky/disco dance moves)

[my-current-obsession]

I ask this as a Clerith fan myself - why are so many people up in arms about Tifa "lying" in her GS date? I'm not even sure what people are referring to when they say that. If it's when she denied talking to Aerith about Zack... Aerith literally lied about the EXACT same thing to Cloud and no one calls her out about it.

Obviously the context of Cloud bringing up the issue in the first place is quite different with both girls - with Aerith he's wanting to know where they stand and if he can pursue her or if he should give up. While with Tifa he's still focused on Aerith instead of the girl he's with, which makes this date and his extreme (frankly OOC) actions come across as a rebound because he feels like he has no chance with the girl he's really interested in. But that said, I interpret the lie itself as the same from both girls - they know Cloud's memory is unreliable and digging too much into the topic of Zack might make him MORE unstable, so they dodge the issue. Also maybe a secondary reason of lying to keep the mood light/romantic, instead of bogging it down with something heavy.

If it's in response to what she says after Cloud wonders about Aerith still having feelings for Zack... that's up to interpretation, I guess. PERSONALLY, I would take her responding "It's more complicated than that" as dodging the question at worst or even a soft, implied disagreement with Cloud at best. It would be incredibly easy and simple to just say, "Yes, she still likes him." That's NOT what Tifa says, even though to an extent it might be true (Aerith makes it obvious that she's fallen for Cloud by the end of the game, but she MIGHT still love Zack too. You can love more than one person at a time. It's just unclear if that's the case for her or not).

We know from the scene on the ship heading towards Costa del Sol that Tifa and Aerith wanted to talk about love and boys, but it was postponed. But it's also clear they're spending a LOT of time together trying to hash out what's going on with Cloud and generally opening up to each other as friends off-screen, so I think it's safe to say they DID have this conversation eventually. I believe by the chapter 12 date, both girls are fully aware that they EACH like Cloud romantically, but for the most part they care enough about each other as friends to put aside rivalry/jealousy.

Tifa's response of "It's more complicated than that" just feels like the honest truth to me. Does Aerith still have feelings for Zack? Yeah, maybe. But she also undeniably has feelings for Cloud. And Tifa, on a date with the man she ALSO loves, doesn't want to lie but also can't bring herself to say that whole truth (also it's not really her truth to say? Confessing for someone else is messed up in its own right NGL) when doing so would almost certainly kill her own chances with Cloud.

I honestly feel sorry for her in her date. I read the situation as her trying to be as honest as she can without quite literally triggering Cloud or spilling Aerith's secrets, while Cloud, AT BEST is acting out a role with her and being the suave hero who he thinks she wants (which is arguably true, but let's not get into whether Tifa wants the "real" Cloud here) instead of his true awkward self (thus no actual progress in their relationship is made, since everything was just an act on his part). And AT WORST is outright using her as a rebound.

Seriously, what are you all mad at HER for?

[i-trash-about-things]

a.n.: I can't believe this took me 6 freaking months to write. It definitely doesn't live up for the hype, but for some reason the words just wouldn't flow. In the mean time, I graduated! Actually went to prom! It kinda sucked, I really don't see the hype behind it!

Anyway, enjoy– and thank you for the patience to those that were interested in this story. If you're still interested by the end of this part– well, you'll know for yourself if there will be more lol ;)

Part 1!

Multiple perspectives (3rd and 1st person); Henderson!Reader; GN!Reader; use of Y/N; Billy Hargrove Survived (but he isn't a racist piece of shit); Everyone might be OOC, sorry lol; swearing; light violence; mostly fluff; English is not my first language! Sorry if something doesn’t make sense :p; no beta, we die like Vecna should’ve

4.5k words.

Third Time's The Charm.

Dustin’s day has been good, in his less than humble opinion.

School sucked the same as always, but hey! Everything other than that was actually pretty awesome!

His older sibling popping by on a whim wasn’t a rare occasion, far from it. When they first moved to college, he cried the whole day thinking he would only see them on Christmas, and now it’s like they never moved in the first place!

Well, maybe it’s because of the Upside Down thing and how they almost died about a million times in the last 4 years, but Dustin liked to believe it’s because they just love him very very much.

But, one thing actually did change.

Eddie.

“Dustin, my man, my favorite nerd, what a sight to the sore eye you are right now!”

Speak of the devil.

Him and Eddie have known each other for a while. I mean, how could he not when the metal-head has been his sibling's best friend for almost all his life?

And with the time to get used to each other, plus Dustin’s natural attentiveness and attention to detail, he can read this guy like the cheap rip-off comic of spider-man he is.

Eddie wants something.

“Is that a new upgrade to your walkie? Dude, that looks sick, what does it do?”

“Nothing, it’s just a normal radio actually.”

“Oh.”

A snort leaves his nose. Dustin shakes his head, setting the walkie talkie on the library table before looking up to his friend.

“You really aren’t subtle, my friend.”

“First things first: how dare you. Secondly-” Eddie pushes the nearest chair back, giving him enough space to sit on the old table. The notebook under him crinkles, but he just pushes it aside, clearly in too much of a rush to care about a random person’s notes. “I need your help.”

“If it’s about the whipped cream on Lucas’ backpack and his basketball shoes, it’s too late. The operation is already in motion.”

“Operation- wait, did you put whipped cream on Sinclair’s shoes?”

“What? No I didn’t. You didn’t hear that from me.”

“Mhm.” Eddie just sends Dustin a look, raising an eyebrow with just a very done expression on his eyes, before shaking his head. “You know what, I’m just going to pretend I didn’t hear anything.”

He leans closer, likes he’s about to tell the biggest secret of his life. The notes beneath his butt crumble further.

“It’s about your sibling.”

“Y/N? What they have to do with anything?”

“I’m gonna ask 'em to prom.”

If Dustin were drinking something, he would’ve done a spit take right now.

“WHAT?!”

“SHHHH!” The other school library attendees shush him, all glaring in their direction. Dustin flushes a little, curling into himself, but Eddie doesn’t even flinch.

“I want to take your older sibling to prom, Henderson. Like, real bad.”

“Dude!”

“What?!”

“That’s my sibling!”

“And my best friend! So??”

“So–” Dustin sputters. How does he even respond to that?!

Don’t get him wrong, of all the people he could’ve picked to compete for your hand, Eddie would always be his champion. His two favorite people??? Sign him up!

Doesn’t mean his into it, tho!

“Why?!”

“What do you mean ‘why’?! You’ve ever met ‘em?! They're the coolest most beautiful, and funniest person I’ve ever known! Why wouldn’t I want to take them to prom?”

“No, not that- why the change? I thought you wanted to go with Chrissy??”

That gets a reaction out of him.

Eddie flinches, looking away. He passes a hand through his hair, half hiding himself beneath the brown curls.

“Chrissy… She’s…”

Dustin does not like the hesitation. The kid crosses his arms over his chest, squinting up at Eddie with distrust.

“Look, I’m all for you going after my big sibling–”

“Really? That wasn’t what it looked like two seconds ago.”

Dustin squints further, frowning, and Eddie groans.

“Just keep going.”

“As I was saying, I don’t mind you taking my big sibling to prom… If you actually mean it.”

It’s his turn to frown, a mirror of Dustin’s expression, but in confusion and a little bit of offense.

“What? Why wouldn’t I mean it?”

“You were just drooling over Chrissy, like, two days ago! I get you getting rejected, but don’t use them as a rebound, dude!”

“What?!”

“SHHHHH!” Strike two, the people around them shush them both again. Dustin doesn’t flinch this time, both him and Eddie a bit too enthralled in the topic at hand.

“How could you say that?! You know how much I care about Y/N!”

“I know that, but I also know how much they cares about you.”

“What does that has to do with anything?”

“Uh- Literally everything? What, you think you can just go and ask them all willy nilly to go to prom with you like it’s no big deal, and they won’t feel like it’s a big deal? Thye care, dude! What you say matters to them!”

Something in that makes Eddie pause, breath hitching on the tip of his tongue. He knew that, of course… Didn’t he?

His mind flashes back to the three years ago, just in the middle of prom season.

“Y/N Henderson, you did not–”

“Oh but I did! I did, despite it all!”

Eddie feels the bright afternoon sun on his back, the ever warming spring air making his hair and their hair flutter in the wind.

Today has been a weird day. His friends all seemed either jittery or smug, like they know something he doesn’t, a joke he didn’t get the punchline yet.

But the weirdest thing? His best friend wasn’t waiting for him by his parking spot.

At the end of class, he found a pretty envelope on his locker, attached to it a blue little flower– one of the few he recognizes. Forget-me-not’s.

“6 years sure go by fast. We’ve been through a lot in that time, didn’t we? And we will go through a lot more shit, knowing us like I do.

I was hoping you’d indulge me on a little game, just for old times sake.

Check the supply closet closest to you.”

From then on, he went on a surprisingly elaborate scavenger hunt. Passing through closets, to bathrooms, even checking in with his friends when the little clues told him to. Surely enough, each one handed him a new letter, and each one had a soft and excited smile on their lips.

After a good half hour of running around the school like a headless chicken, Eddie had accumulated enough clues to fill both his pockets and enough flowers for a small bouquet. The last letter sits on his hand as he dashes around the halls, a big smile on his lips.

“Ok, I promise this is the last one– for real this time, I swear.

This had been a rough year on you, but I was hoping to send it off with a bang. One last middle finger to the world before I have to leave you behind to fend for yourself in the lion’s den.

So, Edward Munson, meet me by the woods, in our usual spot.”

“Henderson, you absolute maniac!” Eddie all but jumps over the picnic table, practically throwing himself on his best friends arms. They don't even blink, only opening up and holding him. Firm, steady and warm. Their laughter feels like electricity and care all at once over his skin, and he breaks into goosebumps.

“Did you like it? Had any fun?”

“Hell yeah I did! How long have you been planning this, dude?!”

“Ah, who cares about that?” They flick their wrist, like trying to get rid of an annoying fly. Eddie’s way too used to their dismissive and nonchalant nature at this point, so he just laughs and hugs them close again.

“Jesus Christ, Henderson, what did I ever do to deserve you?”

He can’t see, but their smile softens. The hold on him tightens, and they buries their face into the mess of his hair.

“You’re you. That’s more than enough.”

After a beat, they finally pull away from the other. Eddie doesn’t even questions at their dazed gaze, used to it at this point, even if he never truly knew the reason behind it. He squeezes their shoulders, still a little incredulous at the situation. Taking his little moment of silence as an opportunity, Y/N steps back and takes one last flower from their pocket. It’s a little bit beaten up after being squashed in the hug, but it makes Eddie’s heart feel tight anyway.

“Look, I know this hasn’t been an easy year for you. You’ve been through a lot of shit, dealing with shitheads like Carver and Hagan, and that you didn’t graduate, but… But I wanted to make the end a good memory, you know? Eat junk food, dress fancy for once in our lives, pretend that we’re the protagonists for once, you know?”

They take a deep breath, eyes locked on the little flower on their hand. It’s impossible to lift their head and finally gaze into the eyes of their best friend. The love of their life.

Bah, call 'em dramatic. They're already way too deep into this cheesy bullshit to care.

“So. Eddie. Eds. Angel. Would… You, maybe… Like to… Gotopromwithme??”

Well that was smooth.

Still, it doesn’t seem like he cares about their awkward stumbling.

Instead, he just pulls them into one more hug, laughing like a maniac.

“Yes! Of course I’d like to, you dumbass! You’re my best friend!”

And those words make their heart races and breaks, all at once.

They let the little blue flower fall to the ground, unbothered by the numbness on their fingertips.

“I know. You’re my best friend too, Eds.”

Eddie shakes his head, locks brushing against his nose at the intensity. This is a crisis for another time.

“I know, believe me. But I’m telling the truth! I don’t care about Chrissy, I legitimately want them to be my date!”

Dustin raises an eyebrow, feeling the genuine longing in Eddie’s tone. It’s a surprising match to his siblings, every time they talks about Eddie. That lingering bitter-sweetness in the end of the sentence, the longing in each and every word. He’s heard them rant and ramble, on and on, about the metal-head more time than Dustin feels like counting, he knows that tone. It’s a perfect match.

So, he sighs, leaning his head back against the library’s chair to the point his cap almost falls off.

“Fine, I’ll help.”

“Yes!”

“SHHHHH!”

…

Today was… Weird.

Maybe it was the way the sun was beating down my face, too hot for a spring day, maybe it was the fact that the 7-11 I passed by didn’t have my favorite slushy flavor, but something just seemed… A little off today. Like someone just tilted the world a little bit to the left.

I take a long drag from the cigarette between my lips, watching the shining sun from my spot by my car. Sitting beside me is none other than Billy Hargrove, the same glare up at the sky as mine.

It’s always funny hanging out with Billy by the school’s grounds. We used to beat each other up in this same parking lot, about two years ago! And now look at us, sharing a can of coke beneath the spring sky like two dads waiting for their kids after football practice.

“I can hear your brain about to cook up some weird shit to say, Henderson. Please keep it to yourself.”

I don’t even blink at his harsh tone, putting a sugary sweet expression and leaning to lay my head on his shoulder.

“Awn, I know you love my commentary.”

He’s quick to brush me off, with not nearly as much strength as he used to a few years ago.

“I’d rather hear the screams of children.”

All I can do is snort, laughing slightly before taking a sip of the can between us.

Billy is one of the only people acting somewhat normal today, same snarky responses that once made me lunge for his throat and same pissed off frown.

He’s also one of the few people I trust the most, funnily enough. What can I say, he’s seen the worst in me and somehow still sticks around- probably because I’ve seen the worst in him too, but still. Maybe that trust is what made me press the halfway burnt cigarette into the ground and turn to look back at him.

“Hey, dude?”

“Hm.”

“Is it just me or is everyone kinda off today?”

And to my surprise, he doesn’t immediately respond. Instead, he raised his own cigarette to his lips, taking a long and deep drag.

“Nope, just you.”

“Pfft, weird, something tells me your lying?”

“Something? What, like voices in your head? Damn, I knew you were crazy, Henderson, but this is new ground.”

“Billy.”

“… Hmph.”

He stuffs his hands in his jeans pockets, sunglasses tilting down just enough to see the look he sends me. I shake my head and he relaxes. There’s a small pause after that. He flicks the cigarette ash off, before glancing to me again.

“Look, it’s nothing you have to worry about, ok?”

I can’t help but chuckle at his words, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Last time you said that, you were possessed by a god damned spider monster thing.”

“Yeah, but this time I’m not. So chill out.”

Isn’t he sweet?

I chew on the inside of my cheek, breathing in slowly before letting out a long long sigh.

“Fine.” A pause. But then I turn to look at him again, with the most serious expression I can. “But if you are possessed again-”

“Fuck off.”

“Pfft-”

The loud ringing of the school bell quickly brings our attention back to the front doors of Hawkins High. Like clockwork, they open and the sea of teenagers roll out, flooding the parking lot. My eyes drift between faces, looking for any sign of my favorite club, but the first thing I catch is a familiar cap and a mess of red hair.

Dustin immediately runs up to me, his cap hitting me on his attempt at a dive hug. Max is not so far from him, but instead of the affection attack she just flips Billy the bird… which he quickly reciprocates, smirking.

The two types of siblings.

“Hey, Junior.” The sarcastic and rougher edge to my voice quickly melts off, turning to the normally sweeter and more relaxed tone reserved only for my little brother. Dustin immediately turns to me, smiling like he always does- but, of course, there’s something off.

“Hello there, older sibling figure.”

… ok.

I just let out a chuckle, a little weirded out. See? It can’t be just me, everyone’s acting all skittish for some reason. Did I miss the memo?

Max pushes Dustin’s cap over his eyes before he has the chance open his mouth again, her eyes literally screaming for him to shut up. Then, she turns to me.

“If he hurts you, tell me. I’ll kick his ass.”

“… What???”

The hell’s going on?

Dustin clears his throat, pushing his hat back and sending Max a half hearted glare.

“As I was about to say- Eddie told me to give you this.”

From the depths of his many pockets, he pulls a… letter? A note, better said, scribbled in a chicken scratch of a writing I know way too well.

Before I can open it, he quickly pulls me so I look at him again.

“I’m gonna catch a ride with Max today I’ll see you later ok bye-”

And he practically drags Max to Billy’s car… which she weirdly let’s him do. I look back at the blonde next to me… and he doesn’t even blink at the interaction, stepping on the rests of his cigarette before turning away from me without a word.

What…. the hell.

As the familiar camaro drives off the parking lot, leaving me to my lonesome by my truck, I glance down at the note in my hands. Crumpled notebook paper, with the little bits used to wrap around the spiral still attached, and that familiar handwriting.

After a huff of amusement, I open up the letter.

“Greetings, dear adventurer! It is I, Eddie the Pardoned (we really need to workshop that title).

This is your formal request to join in on an adventure through the ever changing land of Hawkins High school. Walk across the mighty and dangerous hallways where jocks once slammed our faces into lockers, or traverse into the terrifying lands we call the gym showers!

Follow the riddles and clues, and if you’re lucky, the gates of a whole new adventure shall open to those with brave and worthy hearts.

Good luck.”

“Dramatic dork.” I mumble beneath my breath, but the smile on my lips can only be described as disgustingly smitten.

I look over the note again, flipping it between my fingers. Surely enough, more writing in the back.

“Those who trail my path are the best liars, but also the most emotional of artists. The many nights you’ve spent between my walls, you were never quite yourself. Oh, wow, he really wasn’t kidding on making riddles, huh?”

I can’t help but let out a chuckle, raising my eyes from the paper in my hands and looking around the parking lot. There’s a lot of people walking around right now, most speeding to get home after a long long Friday, but my eyes don’t catch a single hint of anyone using the familiar Hellfire shirt. Which is definitely weird, they’re normally the first ones to leave the school. Still, no sign of Jeff, or Bryan, or Gareth, much less Ed.

I look back down to the riddle.

“The many nights you’ve spent between my walls” So it’s a place, then? One I’ve been before, if Eddie isn’t being a little shit and using “you” because he thinks it sounds better.

“Those who trail my path are the greatest liars, but most emotional of artists.” Greatest liars? And most emotional of artists. Well, if it’s a place, related to art, then the art room? But then why the lying?

“You weren’t quite yourself.” Wasn’t… quite myself. Hm.

A place, probably one at school since I doubt he would’ve gone so extra as to go around the entire city, related to art and lying. “Wasn’t quite yourself.”

…

Wait, the drama club?

Art of lying- could he mean acting? A room related to acting in which I’ve been to before.

The drama club, at D&D nights!

My feet are moving before my brain is, crumpled up note being carefully stuffed into my pants pockets.

…

Not far…

“The bird has taken flight, over.”

“Dustin, will you stop with the codenames?! Just- Just get into position! Over!”

…

How many damn riddles can this man write??? I must’ve collected more than twelve by now!

There’s a small collection of notes in my left hand, my pockets too filled up to stuff any more of them without damaging. My shoes squeak against the floors of the mostly empty school, echoing in my ears as I run from room to room, classroom to classroom.

I swear, If this is some sort of elaborate prank, I’m going to kick Eddie’s ass until Halloween comes.

I let out a groan leaning down to reach another, stuck beneath my– well, not mine, it hasn’t been mine since I graduated– seat at the iconic Hellfire Club lunch table. When I turn to the back, I’m surprised to see there isn’t a riddle this time, no little set of verses to greet me. So, after a small hum of interest, I fold it open.

“If you’ve reached this point of your quest, fair knight, I’m proud to tell you your prize awaits you! (Because I’m not like SOME people who do FAKE OUTS THREE TIMES IN A ROLL)

All that’s left is for you to come and get it. Your king awaits in our usual spot.”

-E.M.

“Pfft– my king?” I can barely pay attention to the soft laugh that leaves my lips, chest too warm and filled with cotton to notice. Dork.

Still, I just set the note with the rest, walking to the nearest exit with a smile on my lips.

I’m still have no idea what Eddie is planning with all of this. Despite the dozen plus notes, he hasn’t gave me a single of hint for the reason of this scavenger… Hunt.

…wait.

I mean, it’s not– it’s not possible, right?

He was talking about inviting Chrissy less than a week ago!

Nah, nah, yeah, it’s not… He wouldn’t. Not me, anyway.

…

Well I just made myself sad.

A groan leaves my lips as I shake my head, hair flowing around with the motion before bouncing and stopping, strands sticking to my eyelashes. Enough with the self pity. I’m better than this. Whatever it is that Eddie has planned to me is going to be awesome.

The hallways echoes with my steps, the sound of my combat boots squeaking in the shiny tile flooring being the only sound as I leave the school. It’s late afternoon at this point, the sun starting to set as everything is painted golden. The walk through the woods is longer than I remember, the late spring wind ruffling through my clothes. After a while, I’m reaching the clearing…

And there’s no one here…?

“Eddie?” I spin in place, looking in between the trees for any sign of the silhouette I know better than my own. It’s quiet here, with the exception of the singing birds and early crickets. I stuff my hands in my pockets, and my brows twitch in worry. “Did I take too long…?”

When I pull them back, one of them holds the last hint. It’s impossible to be anywhere else– he literally said our usual spot, and this is it, isn’t it? Unless my first suspicion was right, and he really meant to spread these around the town– wait, no, then why would he set them up around school? What am I m–

“BOO– OW!”

“EDDIE?!”

My knuckles sting, heart beating louder than a drum as I stare at my fallen best friend, cradling his own face. Immediately I reach for him, falling to my knees by his side.

“Jesus Christ, Munson, you scared the shit out of me! I’m so sorry– Oh, god dammit, sweetheart, c’mere, c'mere… Let me see…” I gently tug his hands from his face, touches practically feather light and with as much care as I can channel. He laughs all the while, completely unbothered by the forming bruise on his cheek.

“Jesus Christ, Henderson– You pack quite the punch! Holy crap, I think you dislocated my jaw–”

“Stop saying shit like that, you’ll manifest it.” I chuckle under my breath (but do check his jaw, making sure everything is in place and I didn’t punch one of his teeth in.). “Why the hell you sneaked up on me like that? What thought process made you think that was a good idea??”

“I don’t know!” He laughs, falling limp on the grass while looking up at me. His smile is almost dopey, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he said he just got baked. He doesn’t smell like weed, tho. Just smoke and cologne, the one that makes me wish I could bury my nose into his neck and just live there. “I thought it’d be a good idea? All I needed to do was distract you for a little while!”

“Distract me?” I snort, brows tilting in a playful frown. “From what?”

“Shit–” And at the sound of my brother’s cursing, I lift my eyes from my best friend’s face.

What do I find if not the rest of the Hellfire club, haphazardly stacked on each other’s shoulders putting up a huge banner on the branches of the nearest threes. Jeff has Mike on his shoulders, while Bryan has Justin– and Lucas and Gareth watch a few steps away, clearly trying to not bring attention to themselves as I turn to them.

“Michael, if you ruin my jacket with your dirty ass shoes–”

“I’m trying not to! Stop moving!”

“Guys! Guys, I’m gonna fall! BRYAN–”

“You’re not gonna fall, Dustbin– stop being a pussy and just tie the goddamn thing.”

“What the hell…?” I mumble, even more confused than when I found the kids sneaking Eleven into Mike’s basement.

Eddie doesn’t answer me with anything but a cackle, getting up to his feet and jogging up to the rest of the club. His grin is so wide his dimples are lost between smile lines, brown eyes shining in the late afternoon sun that warms my skin and cheeks. He skids to a stop under the banner, not even waiting to check if it’s tied up properly before tugging the bottom and unrolling it.

‘COME DITCH PROM WITH THIS FREAK?’

And the arrows badly painted on the bottom point directly at him, that turns around to beam my way with his smile brighter than the sun.

…

I don’t know if the guys have fallen silent or if I just gone deaf, but I don’t have the mental power to look. It’s like the whole world turned… quiet.

My heart can’t seem to choose between skipping beats or skidding to stop. I can feel my skin tingling, my knuckles going from stinging to burning. As does the back of my neck and the bottom of my gut.

I read the words, over and over again, shocked…

“Is this…” My tongue feels like it’s knotted, tied and shipped to the other side of the country. No words could ever describe– whatever the hell I’m feeling right now. “Are you… Is– Are you for real??”

“Yeah.” He chuckles, the warm orange lighting almost making it look like his cheeks are dyed a soft red. His smile is confident, almost cocky and playful as he looks down at me. “As real as a I can be.”

My mouth feels drier than a desert, and I swallow harshly. I can’t turn my eyes from him, like I’m transfixed… which, in someways, I am.

He has hypnotized me, a puppet on his strings.

I feel starstruck.

Eddie takes my silent as a go ahead, because after standing under the banner for a second, he slowly walks to me again. For some reason, I don’t even think to get back on my feet until he’s almost right in front of me, his head obscuring the sun as if he’s the only star I need.

“Henderson,” He says, the smirk on his lips almost sheepish. “I’ve got to apologize. I’ve been… kind of a shit best friend for the last couple years. You’ve been my paladin, my white knight, the voice of reason when I wasn’t thinking and I didn’t even thank you properly.”

He extends his hand, the black stone in his ring finger catching the sunlight from his smile.

“So let me make it up to you… Will you let me take you with me to not-prom?”

My throat closes up, my eyes sting, but my smile is as bright as the moon.

“Yeah, I will.”

And I take his hand, letting him pull me to my feet.

taglist! @eddiesgirlforever @plk-18 thx for the support and the patience!! :D

[soft-pine]

hiiii!!! how are you? :))

i’ve seen you mention a few times in the past that you’re not really a chuck won theorist, so i’m curious (1) what about it doesn’t work for you? and (2) what do you think about the finale and even spnwin?

hi!! aw it's so nice to get an ask!

1) okay so like i REALLY GET chuck won! like i GET IT!!! and i absolutely see why it's so popular and compelling. i feel like my issues with it stem from two things: 1. who my spn community was and 2. narrative reasons.

like to be really transparent, my spn fandom experience was mostly on twitter. and on twitter there was a VERY BIG chuck won theorist who was also a really big gay-dean anti. and they harassed a young friend of mine's fics and accounts and would go on rants about gay-dean people. so my community mostly ended up being people ... who didn't vibe with that... and therefore ended up mostly not being chuck won people. (that person is on tumblr too but i haven't ever seen a chuck won moot reblog from them which is nice. and also when they were doing all this harassing, they hadn't even seen the whole god danged show!)

narratively i'm kinda mixed. i think chuck won has some GREAT potential for fix-it's (both like canon continuation????!!!!! and fics!) and i think there's lots of fun puzzle pieces to put together to make it really compelling and supported by the text! like i really do think chuck won is maybe one of the simplest and best premises for that stuff. HOWEVER, i can't get over dean saying "see, that's not who i am" and not killing chuck in 15.19. like THAT MEANS THE FUCKING WORLD TO ME!!!!! and i get that even in chuck won, maybe killing chuck then wouldn't have done anything and like idk i get there can be layers. but like choosing to beat god by just being the ultimate punching bag (as he's always treated you) until he's expended all his hate and all his power taking it out on you and then just walking away.... THAT FUCKING SLAPS IM SORRY!!! i am gobbling it up and up! also i think another part of why i'm not so into chuck won is that i'm not really a jack girlie so i don't /personally/ find his 15.19 actions particularly ooc. but also like... if the finale and spnwin is all the continuation we get, i feel like there is something in dean being a being with autonomy booking it around the universes and cas being alive and in heaven. like idk that's crumbs but like if this is all the canon we'll get, i'd rather not think chuck is still in control. if that makes sense? so how i feel really depends on if i'm in fix-it or make-the-best-of-it mode.

2) well i hate the finale lmao! a long time ago i described myself as like not a chuck won truther but a john won truther... which idk is also really sad... but i think one of the most important narrative through lines in spn is dean managing the trauma john left him with. and in a very real sense the finale is a categorically a Tragedy when seen from that lens. and that is the kind of fix-it that i /personally/ find the most compelling (i.e. the mundane rather than the cosmic) so that is why i lean in that direction and my fics are fix-its to that tragedy and that story. like unfortunately, i want to write the whole finale off but dean's speech is just too real to me, i just can't. i want to and i can't :( (i wrote more about it here...) so yeah, spn, to me, is the tragedy of growing up closeted and abused and parentified. so the fact that the finale echoes 3.16 and is like Yes those things are real and they will Kill You... makes me want to dig in! like it's awful!! they shouldn't have ended it like that but idk maybe i'm crazy but i feel like - to me - there is some validation in the way it just Is a Tragedy (even if it is NOT framed like that at all and that episode is crazy bad and the lighting is insane and they play carry on my wayward son twice in a row). i hope that makes some sense??

2.1) i really enjoyed spnwin when it was airing!! it was the first time i had gotten to be in spn fandom with new eps coming out and i felt like i was constantly nauseated and worried and exuberant and insane and it was great i miss it! i got really annoyed by all the john takes i was seeing to be fair. i LOVED carlos so much! i think the parallels (intentional and not) for dean and mary and deancas are all delicious!!!! but also sadly multiverses are a big ick for me and i was really really disappointed they didn't like properly resurrect dean though i LOVE that he IMMEDIATELY broke the rules and dipped right the fuck out of heaven. but again, i'm a mundane guy, i don't care as much about dean being like a semi-divine universe hopping being (or w/e edlund said i dont recall). i want him alive on earth eating a grilled cheese with tomato soup in his kitchen that he has set up just right. BUT i did love seeing him and hearing him and i would watch ten million seasons of a show even if it just had three seconds of dean's voice in every episode so there's that. i also am a big Deans-only-grow-beards-when-they're-highly-stressed theorist so the beard made me sad but i loved his dress up! and i LOVED the vibe of the car on a foggy road at the end of the first ep. i DID NOT like the akrida people talking about needing to kill him (HE HAS SUFFERED ENOUGH!!) and i DID NOT LIKE him being trapped in the void or w/e for a long time cause like i know he was in there worrying he failed and everyone would die and no version of his parents could be happy and i swear i cannot take that shit. but dean saving his parents who are younger than him is DELICIOUS I AM FEASTING!!! and i have evil fic ideas about spnwin that i should actually write sometime

thanks for the ask! sorry for the novels! hope they're coherent enough!! <3

[dailycass-cain]

so this is my first time reading Batgirl (TYSM for the guide!) and I'm pretty new to comics in general. I've made it to #41 so far, and I can't help but notice the huge decline in writing from #38 onwards with the change of writers. Maybe it's just exacerbated by how good the previous issues were; but it really feels like Cass drastically went from a rare female character that is actually written with the same respect and depth as the male characters to being turned into a "girl superhero" with boy troubles who gets forced into bikinis and love triangles. Since you seem to know a lot about what was going on behind the scenes at the time, did something happen? I know there's misogynistic/racist men in the industry who hated Cass so I was wondering if that was already brewing back then during her 2000s run

I think when it came post-Puckett era, Dylan Horrocks was faced with a choice: ape off Puckett or try something different with the character.

I'll be honest, the early Horrocks' stuff you're in hasn't aged well. The ideas are interesting, of exploring sexuality and Cass realizing she can "see" what men think of her, and I think the utter realization of Babs making a mistake is good. It's just the overall execution is more of a miss.

The thing is, #41 gives us an excellent in-character reason for her choices. It's just this is all balanced with Bruce being pretty awful to Cass during this period (because this is all in a lead-up to Horrocks "big" story for #50).

Horrocks run can best be summed as: starts "meh" has interesting ideas, but fails to fully execute them well. There are some standoff amazing moments in the comics (I think the Doll Man issue is quite underrated).

Though, you're right. This is the era when Dan DiDio began to rise to power within the DC Comics Company, and it shows during this particular run.

So during this "run" we had A LOT of things happen outside the comic.

#1 Batman: Hush going on, and that story is particularly infamous for neglecting Cass due to story writer Jeph Loeb's distaste cause she wasn't Barbara Gordon (artist Jim Lee, who now currently runs DC too had this idea but since 2020 has softened this stance and realizes the mistake made).

Add this with DiDio's bias toward the Bronze Age "iconic" characters (Barry, Hal, and Babs) you have this growing problem.

#2 Cass DID get to be involved in another comic. The Justice League: Elite maxi-series. Though she didn't show up in THE Batman story, Cass was showing up in two other series at this time. One, well is in my "infamous" Cass reading guide (Batman: City of Light), and JL: Elite.

The later series did a nice job with the "twist" that Cass was on the team and as an agent of Batman spying on them. It is an actually interesting and good story.

#3 This is the era the "editorial edicts" started to come in. So a rather infamous thing during DiDio's reign was editorial edicts that would force changes in comics (leading to some outrageous OOC moments). This happened TWICE in Horrocks' Batgirl run.

At a certain point, Horrocks is told via top brass that he's losing Babs as a supporting cast member and has to write her off the comic. So he has to write a Babs/Cass go their separate ways due to well you'll see.

The other is in regards to Stephanie Brown who'll be back in the comic past #50 (she left the series in #38). What Horrocks didn't know until a Bat summit around this time (where all the Batman book creatives discussed where to take the books in the coming months) is that Stephanie's days were numbered.

She was coming back (and as Robin), but they were killing off the character. Horrocks and Nightwing writer Devin Grayson HATED the idea and objected to it.

Sadly, they were outvoted and well whatever else occurred in those meetings (or after) resulted in Horrocks quitting the Batgirl series and DC Comics itself by #57 (this is why Horrocks' run on the book just ends abruptly with no real end). Horrocks is still currently just enjoying the life of writing and doing Indie comics.

Interestingly, whatever Horrocks said or did it's interesting to note his is the only run never collected fully by DC Comics. Sadly, the only Batgirl issues that were EVER put in a trade were the stuff that made him walk (Batman: War Games, the event that killed Stephanie Brown). That was until the mid-2010s when DC released a HC Batgirl Anniversary trade that also included stories of Bette Kane, Steph, and Cass as Batgirl. #45 (aka Cass wearing Babs' Batgirl costume) is in the trade collection.

Ironically, this bad management editorial would also eventually affect Kelley Puckett (who returns to DC with Supergirl Vol. 5 #23-29, 31-32) around 2008 to 2009 but then ALSO decided to leave DC and comics altogether.

Not those two, but also the writer who'd replaced Horrocks, Andersen Gabrych (who was one of the minds behind War Games). However, I honestly do love Gabrych's run on Batgirl more than Horrocks. It's just the edicts and the rushing toward the end of his run kind of sours it.

I hope all this information is helpful.

[hannibalismycannibro]

I've seen some people be confused by Job flashback and stating how "ooc" they believe Aziraphale is in it, and as your local S2 Flashback Defender, I think some of you are missing the significance of this story? This specific flashback is very early in Aziraphale's life on earth; other than Eden, we've only seen him during The Flood, which he (albeit poorly) defends to Crowley. The Flood is Gods plan, he cannot question or disobey it, he MUST follow Heaven's orders regardless of how heinous those orders may be; Heaven is the side of light, of truth, of GOOD. Aziraphale is on the GOOD side, so there must be legitimate reasoning behind these orders.

*It's important to know the real biblical context of The Flood, which is when God believed the earth was so filled with evil that He destroyed it, sparring only Noah and his family due to them being the only righteous people left. While we obviously know The Flood was a horrific act regardless of who or what was dying, Aziraphale can very much rationalize this as being necessary for "the greater" good of humanity and The Plan, despite how obviously flawed it is.* Now, let's look at the Job flashback. Job is a righteous man, he lives his life devoted to God and is "one of the nicest men in the world!", yet he's subjected to a senseless bet between sides. This throws Aziraphale for a loop because... what purpose does this hold? You're torturing an innocent man, killing his children, and for what? For the first time, Aziraphale consciously acknowledges that Heaven is WRONG. There is no "greater good" in this act, it's cruel and senseless and he cannot go along with it. Aziraphale outright disobeys God’s plan and attempts to stop Crowley from killing Job’s children. Aziraphale puts his faith not in God's goodness and mercy, but in Crowley's. He KNOWS Crowley would never do such a cruel, senseless act. Up until this point, Aziraphale has been playing his part. He follows his orders, gives his obedience, and doesn't concern himself with human aspects; Food is gross matter, and wine is a source of drunkenness! It's what the other angels live by, he should too! It's what's right! But the cracks in this façade have formed. The obedience is shaken, the faith in his institution is shaken, and in this blasphemous clusterfuck, he lets himself discover one of his most human aspects - eating. Something he probably has been curious about but denied himself, going by his downright gluttonous reaction (I mean, what’s a little gluttony at this point?). The fact it's Crowley - a demon - who introduces him to one of his most human characteristics, not heaven, the side Aziraphale so desperately tries to please and obey, makes it all the more bittersweet. Crowley and the earth gave him more humanity, Heaven denied him of it. This portion of the story is EXTREMELY important to Aziraphale's character. Aziraphale may seem "ooc" (I don't personally believe he is, but I digress) bc he's NOT the Aziraphale we know yet. This is Aziraphale in one of his earliest forms, at the beginning of his journey. This is Aziraphale at the start of his tumultuous relationship w/ Heaven. This is Aziraphale's worldview changing forever, his views on his home & peers changing forever. This is him realizing something is WRONG. Heaven is not what he thought it was, and he can't always go along. It's why we see him battling himself throughout the flashback + having a breakdown at the end, assuming he's going straight to hell for lying, despite making the right decision. We are watching one of the most important moments of Aziraphale's character, of his mindset. Maybe I'm going overboard (probably), maybe it's the religious trauma speaking (also probably), but I will die on the hill when it comes to the quality/significance of this flashback.

[ghost-guard-13]

Quite a Disguise

Requested by @oolunafoxoo Hope this is kinda what you imagined <3

Nick Fury x Talos

Warnings: Language, Guns, Blood, Violence, Death, Smoking

Summary: Going undercover per Fury's request yet again, Talos wants nothing more than to get into his own skin once the mission is done. When Nick unexpectedly appears in the middle of the final day, Talos must play along, but can't help but mess with his friend along the way. (Takes place around the 1990's - 2000's, no real specific date) (This isn't my best work ngl but I sorta like it) (Also sorry if they're a little OOC, sometimes I have trouble with writing characters that aren't mine so- sorry :])

Talos dragged the unconscious body into a supply closet, mimicking the mans appearance as he did so.

The man's name was Novak Smithy, a member of the organization known as The Raven. They had been causing trouble on a national level, and although it was important enough to get on Nick Fury's radar, it wasn't big enough to drag S.H.I.E.L.D into its mess.

Hence why the shifter was here, taking another mans face and stealing the means to take the organization down from the inside, per his good friends request.

He harbored deeper feelings for the dangerous director of the world's largest, most secret company meant to keep the world safe, of course. He had since around 1995. But that was a problem for a later date.

Slipping Novak's I.D. and other possessions from his person, he rehearsed what information he knew about him prior.

Nick hadn't given him much time to prepare for this job, nor a specific target to shift into, so he had taken it upon himself to choose a higher ranking officer in The Ravens ranks and study him for a week or so from afar, taking the appearance of passerbys throughout the days. Finally he felt confident enough to get the ball rolling and finish this mission. He wanted to be in his own skin again.

"Just a few more days," he whispered to himself, shaking out the broad shoulders he now had.

And so, turning off the lights and entering the empty hallway - one of the only ones without a camera - He straightened his now shoulder length hair and army green jacket, breaking off the closets jaunty doorknob on his way out and dropping it into a nearby bin.

Copying the low-hipped saunter he had seen Novak take on throughout his day, he began the hard part of his job, copying the mannerisms and such from his hosts everyday life.

He just hoped it wouldn't be long.

~ Six Weeks Later ~

Talos walked beside Novak's closest friend and associate, Isaac Lloyd, the chilly breeze whispering the coming of Autumn in their ears. The Skrull shimmied further into his jacket, muttering to his 'friend' in vague codes, or simply commenting on the pedestrians of New Jersey.

He had learned more than he thought he would in the last month, most likely enough to give Nick an update, if not blow the place to the ground, and he was ready for the final day to end.

What he had seen here though...he knew he'd never forget. The morbid methods they planned for the future, the ideas he had to give in order to stay out of suspicion, the way they treated their prisoners was inhumane. He wanted to leave during the first hour within the compound, but he stuck with it, knowing no one else would suffer if he saw this to the end. At least not by their hand.

Which led to now, where he and Isaac travelled to a nearby coffee shop to pick up lunch for the members of today's shift. They visited so often that the middle aged employees paid below minimum wage had memorized their entire order.

As Isaac rattled off their orders anyways in that husky accent only smokers seemed to master - a sound Talos wasn't fond of - Talos let his eyes wander the danky diner. He saw a few sketchy regulars, and an old lady he's seen visit every other week for one reason or another. She always gets the same thing, and an extra plate of steak and chips to go, he assumes for some sentimental value of a lost one.

Besides that however, he didn't see anything new. Same flickering fairy lights, same checkered tiles and same peeling rose red walls. A sad little place really, but the food was decent.

He nearly turned back to boredly stare into the tip jar when a shadow in the back seat caught his eye. The seat that always seemed to be empty.

First looking out of the corner of his eye, he made out a silhouette he couldn't help but call familiar, the warm and dark colors adorning its limbs pulling him in.

Stretching back and turning his head, he locked eyes - or eye - with none other than Director Fury of S.H.I.E.L.D.

Shit.

Why was he here? How was he here? When was he-

Shit.

That seemed to be the main word going through his head at the moment.

But the strangest thing? Nick didn't use any secret signal or mouth a word, never even kept eye contact for more than that second. He looked away so fast that Talos wasn't sure if it had happened at all.

But Talos couldn't not stare.

The dim lights shining on his dark hickory skin, the eye patch he wore blending with the shadows, the intense calculation that rested within his deep iris watching his cup of coffee with personal offence, the natural turn of his lip set in his skin.

He must be here for more than a cup of coffee though.

When the one-eyed man glanced his way again, he quickly looked away, thankful for the tan skin that overpowered the blush creeping up his neck.

Wait a second-

That's right, he didn't know he was him.

Nick didn't know who he had taken the face of, but there was no chance he hadn't been keeping tabs on the group since his arrival either, so while he didn't know who he was...

He knew Novak.

Shit.

~ Five minutes Later ~

Issac had went out back for a smoke, leaving Talos on a bar stool staring at his coffee, keenly aware of the director watching him discreetly like the spy he was.

The Skrull wanted nothing more than to sit and chat with his human friend, inform him of the horrid things he saw and give him Intel on other organizations The Raven was working with. And he would on any normal day.

But many things were at stake here.

For one, Issac could come back at any second. His smoke breaks were inconsistent, so he wasn't able to tell when he'd be returning.

Then there's the fact that Nick could choose not to believe him. He could think he, Talos, had been captured.

He was sure that with enough time, he could be convinced, but what time he had was unsure and running out...

He could give a hint, a few actually seeing as Isaac wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed and he loved to brag.....

Talos decided, finally, to bring a bit of light into his currently sorrowful situation.

Sure enough, Issac appeared minutes later, tapping Talos' shoulder, nodding his head back to the door he had just entered. Having no other choice, he nudged his chin up in confirmation. But just before he closed the door, he glanced at Nick suspiciously and quickly looked away.

That outta get his attention.

As the man beside him dug out another cigarette, he stuffed his hands into his pockets, watching his breath swirl with the rising smoke beside him.

"What's new, man?" He asked, the human slang falling naturally from his lips.

"The boss called, started talking about our next delivery."

Delivery, of course, meant one of two things. Drugs, and prisoners. Experiments, more like.

Humming in that deep voice he had adopted, Talos waved away the offered joint, leaning his head against the brick wall behind him, faintly hearing the door open. So soft that Issac surely wouldn't notice.

"What does she want us to do?" He questioned, keeping his indifferent tone. No one in the compound was bothered by their work, so neither must he.

"Oh the usual, break 'em in and all that." The brunette shrugged, letting the cigarette rest between his teeth. Talos needed to reveal a bit more than that if Nick wasn't going to do anything himself.

"What if we tried something different this time? Y'know, fuck 'em in the head instead of with guns and shit." He muttered.

Issac gave him a strange look.

"You've never had a problem with it before."

This was going south very fast.

"I just mean, y'know we could test out some other methods, see how it affects the experiments."

"Do you know how much trouble we'd be in if the tests went wrong? You really wanna risk that?"

"Well of course not, I just thought-" Talos struggled to fix this conversation.

"You've been asking so many questions lately, man. I thought you were just going through something, y'know all that shit with your wife, but now it's getting weird." He studied him with a scrutinizing stare. "You aren't...doubting anything right?"

Even as he asked, he dropped his joint, letting it burn out in the snow as he reached not-so-subtly for the pistol he had attached to his hip. Talos gulped, cursing Nick sending him on a mission alone.

"Nah man, I'm just tired is all, don't worry about it." He raised his shoulders, eyeing his hand warily. Issac narrowed his eyes, his hangover from the night before still apparent.

There was a moment of silence, no one moved, no one spoke, and Talos didn't dare breath, the two just watched each other, pupils shifting.

The moment ended when Issac pulled his gun, only to find himself disarmed a second later, his hand now broken and his 'friend' trapping him in a chokehold. Talos finally let out a breath, the precipitation clouding around his enemies head.

"Sorry mate, but we can't have that now can we?" And he snapped his neck with a jerk, catching the body already in his arms.

Dragging the 160lb man around the corner and to the dumpster, he hid him from plain sight. Rummaging for his I.D and all other identifications, he shoved them in his pocket and tossed some trash bags over his body, wiping his hands of death on his jeans.

The adrenaline completely rid his memory of Nick following them, or the danger he posed to his host's identity.

He was reminded, however, when the barrel of the same gun he had kicked away was pressed to his temple.

"Hands up. I don't take murder lightly." Nick spoke.

"Oh we both know we do what's necessary when needed." Talos said as he did what he was told, smirking at the fact he knew something Nick Fury didn't. He wondered if he should keep his disguise much longer.

"Is something funny?" Nick asked rhetorically.

"Not at all, Fury." He shrugged, glancing to the side and seeing Nick narrow his eyes with a scowl.

Suddenly the biting metal was removed from his skull, but his relief was short lived as a blinding pain erupted from his calf, causing him to fall to his knees.

"Shit!" He cried, grasping the wound and watching the man now above him. "What the Hell Fury?!" He could feel the skin around the wound burn and shift - as well as the blood seeping into the snow - his green skin revealing itself to the shocked Nick Fury.

"Talos?" He exclaimed, kneeling down beside him after dropping the gun.

"Who else, you lunatic?!" Talos huffed, tearing a piece of his shirt to better compress his wound.

"How was I supposed to know?" He muttered back, placing a hand on his back and the other on his leg, assessing the damage as he helped Talos tie the strip of fabric.

"You're the damn spy here! You read into everything,"

"Well clearly you've been getting better."

Hissing as pressure was applied, Talos grasped the director's arm, sighing as he sat in the shadows. Fury sat with him, thinking of a way to get out of here inconspicuously. It'd be a bit difficult, but he may be able to manage.

"Can you stand?" Fury asked quietly, aware that someone could walk by any second. Talos let out a hard breath and nodded, using the wall to help him while Fury held his other arm. Taking a moment to shift into one of the men he and Issac had passed by earlier, he made sure the man's coat swept over his leg to hide the oozing blood.

Limping to the end of the alley, Talos watched him look down either side of the street before deeming it safe enough to come out. Helping him walk to the car, it took everything for Talos to walk like a half-normal human. Albeit a possibly drunk one.

He was sitting in the front seat of Nick's Impala SS, observing his friend drive from out of the corner of his eye.

"So," he edged, a question for information. However it was parried with,

"So..."

Alright, he'd just have to start then.

"There's a shipment coming in soon, within the week most likely. Drugs and prisoners they'll be experimenting on. I could get you the passcodes, maybe go in myself." Talos informed him, watching the road as they drove.

"Are you sure you'll be up for that? You just got shot for fucks sake." Fury quizzed.

"You shot me. And I'm well aware." He gave him a side-glance. Nick grumbled in response.

"Well that was quite the disguise, Talos." He managed to murmur.

"Wasn't that the point?" He shot back. "Anyways, I'll give you more of what I've learned, I have a few data sticks in my pocket...er, somewhere." Talos looked down at his current disguise, shrugging it off. "Back to the diner, what were you doing there?"

"We'd been tipped off that something may be going down, and due to surveillance I need Novak, you, would be at the diner today. I was planning on calling in your mission today anyways. If at least for just a check up."

Talos accepted the answer, any fight soon leaving him. Resting his left hand on the console and resting his eyes, he peered down when a weight was placed over his skin. Covering his knuckles was the hand of the man beside them, a light touch, but a reassurance all the same. His heart beat just that much faster, but he took the chance. Before Nick could even consider pulling away, he turned his hand, trapping his fingers between his own.

A surprised noise came from the director's throat, but Talos just smiled, closing his eyes with his temple on the windows glass.

And together they drove home.

~ Bonus ~

Cleaning the wound and nursing it properly, Nick then carried the now half-conscious man to his room he often stayed in when working with S.H.I.E.L.D.

Laying the Skrull down and pulling the covers to his chin, Talos shifted on the mattress, sighing once he got comfortable.

The fearsome Nick Fury couldn't help but smile at him, his markings, his ears, and he could just imagine his beautiful black eyes glittering under the light.

Unable to resist himself any longer, he kneeled down and pressed his lips softly against his forehead, quickly feeling heat rush up his skin at the realization of what he'd done.

Quietly wishing his...friend goodnight, he left the small apartment and locked the door behind him.

Maybe friend wasn't the right word anymore...

[team-frightfur]

I have a great love for people who darken Yugo's skin in art. It almost always looks more alive, contrasts better, and fits better /genuine. For real, why would he be the palest Yuboy if he's always out in the sun riding, duelling, working, etc? He probably can't even afford good sunscreen!

Not to mention, in Japan, light skin is straight-up associated with wealth, while dark skin is associated with poverty. Some of this is racism, some is colourism, and some is classism. A lot is all three! Thus, since Synchro deals directly with classism (shittily), Yugo's design should reflect that, right?

But, upon thinking even more about The City, there is not only a conceivable reason for why Yugo is pale as fuck, but it somehow hammers home the dystopian elements even more.

So, the platforms that the Tops are built on HAVE to block sunlight for certain parts of the Commons, right? It won't block all of it and, at certain times, some parts will receive sunlight due to, like, angles and geometry and shit. Presumably, though, the Tops are large enough that some parts also just. Never see the sun.

What if, to Yugo, seeing the sky is a sometimes thing? What if he has to drive for half an hour to see a formation of migrating birds? What if it never rains in summer? What if the only reason he doesn't have vitamin D deficiency is because he chases the sunlight every day?

This is absolutely not canon. We've seen his Facility -but imagine how fucked up it would be! Isn't that the soul of creation? Fucked up shit?

Anyway, I'm not gonna use this in DMTG because, obviously, Yugo would act differently if he grew up under those circumstances. It'd make him retroactively OOC. I considered writing a fanfic but I can't be assed. Enjoy this bad headcanon instead.

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

Anime Convention (feat. someone real). Interlude I

Self-Aware! Ayatsuji Yukito x GN! Reader

Description of Interlude I:

Cats can be mischievous thieves. And, sometimes, they could steal something interesting.

Ayatsuji try to make sense of what he has learned and take a trip down the memory line.

🕶️🕶️🕶️🕶️🕶️🕶️🕶️🕶️🕶️🕶️

For Ayatsuji Yukito, self-awareness was a blessing. For Ayatsuji Yukito, Real World is big and unexplored. Yukito Ayatsuji must learn, how to interact with Real World.

Yukito Ayatsuji has two cats. And there is only one can of cat food left. He also has almost no tobacco left.

He needs to face Real World and went to the store.

He is lucky, that Guiding Light is also home.

A.K.A. Shy and timid Reader are more important, than they think they are.

🕶️🕶️🕶️🕶️🕶️🕶️🕶️🕶️🕶️

Ayatsuji's P.O.V.

Warning: OOC. English is my second language. Slight mentions of stalking (BSD Cast had access to Reader's messenger and phone). Reader have some negative feelings towards them. Reader try to be better.

Set at the same time, as Part I, and flashback took place two weeks before Part I. [Before people started gossip about Reader, but, after people saw Albatross and Doc]

Mall trip incident described here

<| Part I |_________| Part II | >

___________

Ayatsuji was sitting in his chair, reading a book [Y/N] gave him. To be more specific, it was a library book, that Ayatsuji wanted to read and that was put under [Y/N]'s name. The book was a compilation of mystery novels by different authors.

It not only was a way to spend time for Ayatsuji. It was a “training”. Training, before Ayatsuji could read a book with his name on a cover.

He knew, that there was a specific someone in this world. Author. Reason, why Ayatsuji existed in the first place. The reason, why his ability was named Another, why his ability worked the way it worked. Author was the reason of everything, that was happening with Ayatsuji Yukito.

Ayatsuji can't say, for sure, who exactly he meant by “Author”. His namesake… Or…

Meowing, that came from the door to Ayatsuji's room grabbed his attention. Meowing sounded odd. Like it was muffled. Ayatsuji knew too well, what it means. Cats were back from “treasure hunting” and wanted to show him, what they have found.

Ayatsuji put a bookmark between pages and closed the book. He signed and looked at his cats. Mei and Misaki¹ were good cats, but, sometimes, they liked to steal something to show their master.

Ayatsuji blamed Karl and Poe for that behavior. Karl often brought things to Poe, and Poe also asked Karl to bring small things to Ranpo. This behavior rubbed on Ayatsuji's cats, and they started to act the same way. The only problem was that Ayatsuji didn't ask for anything to be brought to him. Unfortunately, cats refused to stop. The list of stolen things already included Dazai's bolo tie, Q's doll, Ranpo's glasses, Kunikida's notebook and Yosano's hairpin. Thankfully, cats were careful, and all things were returned to their owners good as new.

“What did you two steal this time?” mumbled Ayatsuji, standing up.

Mei, black cat, meowed again. She was holding a few papers in her mouth. No, not just papers. There were some text on them. A document?

Misaki, a calico cat, pawed on the corner of the document. Before cats could damage it, Ayatsuji took it away. Cats looked at Ayatsuji, waiting for a praise. Ayatsuji crook an eyebrow.

“You do realize, that earlier we will have to apologize for your behavior, right?”

Cats looked unbothered by it. Ayatsuji sighs and adjust his glasses. He starts reading the document's text.

“Okay, who it belongs to…” Ayatsuji's eyes widened. It was a rent contract. With [Y/N]'s name on it. And it wasn't expired.

“They're still keeping their old apartment… Why?” whispered Ayatsuji. His gaze stopped on the rent's price. It was higher, that before.

All of them knew, how much you paid for your previous apartment. You always send screenshots, proves of successful payments, to your landlord.

Why were you renting an apartment you didn't use?

Cats rubbed against his back. They looked at their master, waiting for something. For praise, or… For an order?

Ayatsuji took his phone and took a picture of the contract. He kneeled before his cats, holding contact towards them.

“Mei, Misaki, thank you. Now, please, took it back where you found it. And I… I need to go to my collection.”

The cats purred, and Misaki took the document in her mouth. Ayatsuji and both cats left the room. Mei and Misaki ran towards [Y/N]'s room. With the corner of his eye, Ayatsuji noticed a familiar striped tail. That explained, how his cats managed to open whatever drawer, where [Y/N] hid the contract.

_____

Ayatsuji Yukito was glad, that he was able to took his collection here. It helps him think.

Surrounded by puppets, he sat in an armchair. His eyes were closed.

“Why… Why [Y/N] are keeping the apparent?” Ayatsuji mumbles under his breath.

Did [Y/N] leave something in the old apartment, that they can't move to the new house? Unlikely. Ayatsuji remembered the day they helped [Y/N] with moving out. All furniture and washing machine belonged to the landlord. The biggest and heaviest of Guiding Light's belongings were a mini fridge, microwave, mini stove and vacuum cleaner. They and the rest of [Y/N]'s belongings were transported in Annie's room and didn't take too much of a space.

So, not it.

Are [Y/N] planning to leave them? Did he and others do something wrong? Were they too forward? Are [Y/N] afraid of them?

Should Ayatsuji confront [Y/N]? Should he tell others?

Ayatsuji shook his head.

Stop. He is getting too worked up. No. He should start with the first question.

Are [Y/N] planning to leave them?

Ayatsuji opened his eyes and focused on one of the dolls. The first new addition to his collection.

Present from [Y/N].

🕶️🕶️🕶️🕶️🕶️🕶️🕶️🕶️🕶️🕶️🕶️

/Two weeks ago/

Mei and Misaki were rubbing against his legs, waiting for their food.

Ayatsuji send a quick glance towards his pets, smiling slightly, but frowned, when he looked at the shelf in kitchen's cabinet, where animal food were kept.

Enough raccoon's food and birds' seeds.

And only one can of cat food left.

Enough for today. But he had to buy more.

Had to go outside, to the pet store, and buy more cat food.

Mechanically, he opened the can, put food in two bowls and put them down on the floor. Mei and Misaki purred gratefully, before digging in. Ayatsuji pet both cats, looking out the window.

Outside… All of them fight tooth and nail to get into the real world. Not only to see Guiding Light, but to finally start living their lives.

Who could guess, that they would be horrified of the real world.

Ayatsuji wasn't an exception. He was also nervous about the Real World.

And “Another” wasn't the reason for his fear.

At first, self-awareness was “shocking, but it doesn't change things for me”.

Ayatsuji, back in their world, was forced to stay away from most people. Even after they gained self-awareness, he was forced to stay away.

His uncontrollable ability could still work on others. No one would want to find out, what would happen, if Ayatsuji saw some event in the manga, that makes his ability activate.

Ayatsuji can't blame them. No one wants to die.

When Oda Sakunosuke, Shibusawa Tatsuhiko and André Gide returned to life, after Guiding Light got their cards, the experiments began.

Soon, others dead characters returned to life.

And Ayatsuji was finally part of the group. Now the results of his ability could be “fixed”.

Still, Ayatsuji could hear them. Whispers about him. If he should be allowed in real world. Specifically, if his ability should be allowed near Guiding Light.

If someone started a vote on “Should Ayatsuji be left behind”, Ayatsuji himself would say “yes”. He wanted to go to the Real World, have a full life, met Guiding Light (or Porcelain Treasure, that's how he called them, after hearing from Tsujimura about 'personal nicknames for Guiding Light'), but, he also didn't want to harm Guiding Light. What if they were a criminal? He didn't want to pay for their kindness with murdering them!

The situation was resolved in an interesting way.

They believed, that cards affected only 'dead' characters. They were wrong.

Ango, when he was trying to raise Guiding Light's chances on getting Yosano's cards, discovered, that they could change their abilities for a bit.

Ayatsuji was among people, who wanted to have their abilities changed. He only asked for one thing. To have control over his ability.

And it was time to wait. He could test, if changed works only in Real World.

He was grateful, that the only crime [Y/N] have committed were a crime of adorableness. At least, if changes didn't work, [Y/N] won't be harmed.

They only need to find a criminal.

With some fake documents and snooping around the police station, Ayatsuji managed to find one. A burglar, who break in a house, steal everything and murdered owners.

And when Ayatsuji explained in great details, how he solved the case, he felt it.

His ability was waiting for his command to be activated.

Changes worked.

Self-awareness was a blessing for Yukito Ayatsuji. His ability wasn't a problem anymore.

Now, there is just one issue was left.

All this people, that lived in real world.

All of them knew, how crowded and loud cities are. It was a well known fact, one of many bits of information, that were there, the moment they became self-aware. Knowledge, they were born? with created to have?

Despite “Yokohama” being a dead city. No other people, except them, no other animals, except Karl, Mei and Misaki.

Only almost two years of silence. For two years, they only have each other and Their Guiding Light.

And then, the Real World greeted them with noises. With stable day and night cycle. With animals and people. Full of life.

And this life was scary and unfamiliar.

Ayatsuji felt, like he was a sheltered child, who was taught about the outside world, but never was allowed to take a step outside. And after years of sheltered life, he was kicked in the middle of “reality” and now must live in almost unfamiliar world.

Ayatsuji shook his head, chasing away the flood of memories and thoughts. No matter, how much he was nervous to go outside, he has to buy cat food.

He will simply grab his coat and wallet and go to the pet store, while smoking his pipe.

********

He was out of tobacco. Now, he has to go to one more store.

“Just two shops. Everything will be fine…” Mumbled Ayatsuji under his breath. He was sitting in the living room, trying to get a hold on himself. He was so deep in thought, he didn't notice, that he got a company.

“Ayatsuji… Are you okay? You look nervous.” the voice, that became so familiar and dear for the last two years, was coming from behind.

Ayatsuji turned around, looking at [Y/N]. They tilted their head, a concerned expression was clear on their face. Ayatsuji couldn't help, but smile slightly. He skipped his normal distant and cold attitude. Jouno's warning was fresh in his mind.

“Mind what you said around [Y/N]. Their heartbeat… They accept all our words for truth.”

“I am fine. I'm simply trying to get enough courage to step outside and do some shopping.”

[Y/N]'s concern was replaced with worry.

“Courage?” 

Ayatsuji shrugged his shoulders.

“Mhm. Real World is too loud to immediately accept it. But I need cat food and tobacco right now, and have no time to wait before I get used to the real world.”

For one second, [Y/N]'s expression changed. Ayatsuji couldn't put his finger, on what emotion it was. 

or, perhaps, he knew this emotion too well, but didn't want to admit, that [Y/N] felt the same emotion

Nevertheless, the emotion was gone, and [Y/N]'s expression became determined.

“Do you want some company?” they asked, taking a step forward. “I need to get a package from the post office, besides, I am currently free, so, I can go with you… If you want, of course.” Immediately add [Y/N]. 

Ayatsuji thought about the proposal. It would be good to have [Y/N] near. Someone, who was comfortable in Real World. Ayatsuji nodded with a smile.

“Thank you, I will be happy, if you join me.” 

For one second, [Y/N] looked shocked, but, quickly, smiled in return.

“Got it. Give me a minute, I will be ready in a minute.” [Y/N] turned on their heels and headed to their room, only to be stopped by Ayatsuji. Detective put his hand on [Y/N]'s shoulder.

“Wait, [Y/N], do you think, I should change my outfit? I don't want to grab people's attention.” Ayatsuji shivered involuntarily. Gogol's story about that trip to the mall was an unpleasant but important warning. When you go out onto the streets of this world in your ordinary outfit, you can expect a wave of fans with a desire to take pictures and touch you, people who consider you a pervert and accusations of satanism.

[Y/N] were silent. They looked at him from top to bottom, then walked around him, taking a good look at his clothes.

Half-rimmed, light-colored sunglasses, white shirt with a vermilion-based checkered border and a gray knit vest, dull orange checkered knickerbocker pants, and beige boots. Ayatsuji decided to add something.

“I will wear my hat and coat.”

 [Y/N] nodded, stepping once again before him, then took their phone and started to type something. After a moment, [Y/N] looked away from the screen.

 “Hey, Ayatsuji, can you please take your glasses off? Okay, thanks. Now, please, put them on again. Thanks again.”

 [Y/N] put their phone back.

 “You don't necessary need to change your outfit. I don't think, that you would get too much attention. But, if you are worried, I think, you could change your coat and vest. You can keep hat and glasses. If someone asks about eye color, tell them, you are wearing contacts.” 

 Ayatsuji raised an eyebrow.

 “But with Gogol…”

 [Y/N] raised their hands, shushing Ayatsuji.

 “Gogol's looks are… I mean, he is… You are… Umf…” [Y/N] hide their face in both hands, breathing heavily. After a minute, [Y/N] spoke again. They were speaking slowly, choosing words carefully.

 “Gogol are well-known among… other fans… You are… Details of Kyougoku's case aren't known by everyone… I guess.”

 [Y/N] looked up. They looked extremely guilty.

“What I mean… If we didn't run into hard fans, we would be okay. I think.”

'Why [Y/N] looked like they are on a verge of crying?' ignoring the thought, Ayatsuji hummed.

“Understand… Thanks for your advice, [Y/N]. Let's meet near the front door in ten minutes.”

[Y/N] nodded and hurry to their room.

////////////////////////

You washed your face with cold water. Familiar feeling of helplessness and disgust squeeze your insides.

You almost (if not already) messed up. First, you thought, that someone was rude to Ayatsuji and that's why he didn't want to go outside. Then, you had to mentioned BSD Media fact. Ayatsuji and others have enough on their plate, and don't need any reminders about their origins from you.

you didn't regret of offering help that's what friends do

They would be right, if they choose to leave you. If thinking rationality…

You splash more cold water on your face. You need to remember psychology books you like to read.

Your negative feelings were unhealthy, and you really need to control your habit of trying to rationalize your feelings and find “logical” reason to fell/ not to feel/express/not express them.

You will go with Ayatsuji to the mall, you will be happy, and you won't mess it just by being near.

“You are an interesting person, you are an interesting person, you can keep friends…” you repeated this sentence like mantra, while getting ready.

/////////////////

Shopping trip went, mostly, smoothly. As [Y/N] predicted, no one was bothered by Ayatsuji's appearance. People didn't pay any attention to him and [Y/N]. They were just another people in a crowd.

*******

You were glaring at the cans of cat food, Ayatsuji choose, like they were your worst enemies. Without warning, you turned your head towards Ayatsuji.

“Ayatsuji, if remember correctly, Pushkin will do the cooking tomorrow, right?”

Ayatsuji nodded.

"Yes. Something wrong with it?"

You point at the can.

"No. But, just you know, that tomorrow your cats will have duck with wild berries, while we'll munch on plain pasta with sausages."

And Ayatsuji saw it in [Y/N]'s eyes. They were waiting for something. And they were nervous. Ayatsuji chuckled.

"Agree, people, who produce cat food, really should mind, how to name their products."

Happiness, that shined in [Y/N]'s eyes were the biggest reward he could ever ask for.

***********

You didn't comment on tobacco he bought. Right after leaving the shop, Ayatsuji filled his pipe, light it and start smoking. 

Tobacco from Real World felt different. And Ayatsuji prefer it to whatever he smoked back in “Yokohama”.

Suddenly, [Y/N] let out a quiet laugh.

“You remind me of Sherlock Holmes."

Ayatsuji pulled deeply on his pipe, before asking.

"Of whom?"

In one second, your expression from happy became guilty.

"Genius detective, who smokes and wears a hat. Didn't I... watched something about him, while you were... I am sorry..."

That expression again. The expression of shame. Without hesitation, Ayatsuji put his hand on [Y/N]'s head, ruffling their hair.

"Don't sweat it, Porcelain Treasure. All of us, you included, have a long way before us. There's nothing wrong with keeping our origins in mind. Or we would have another "Gogol's shopping trip" incident.

He could feel, how [Y/N]'s cheeks were burning with embarrassment. They still weren't used to nicknames. 

"If I insisted on him wearing a disguise..."

Ayatsuji rolled his eyes and flicked [Y/N]'s nose.

Yup, they were burning with embarrassment.

"Okay, hush. Don't put the weight of our decisions on you. Otherwise, we will never learn."

[Y/N] opened their mouth to say something else, but change their mind and stay silent. 

'Okay, now, to change the subject' 

"So, can you tell me more about that Sherlock Holmes guy? He sounded interesting." Ayatsuji observed [Y/N]'s reaction. 

'Why do they look... defeated?'

"He is a book character... Created by Arthur Conan Doyle. I should have one of the books at home. I can give it to you..." it looks like [Y/N] were trying to say as less as they can. 

'Come on, I see, that you want to say more! I want to hear you! I want to talk to you!'

Ayatsuji squeezed [Y/N]'s shoulder. 

"Tell me more, please. I want to know more."

**********

Ayatsuji was waiting outside the post office, trying to hide his smile. Hearing [Y/N]'s passionate speech about Doyle, mystery novels and Sherlock Holmes were a real treat. [Y/N]'s eyes shined, when they were talking about things they liked. And when Ayatsuji paid attention and asked questions.

You still had a big smile on your face after you finished your businesses in the post office and returned to him, holding a big package in your arms.

************

Ayatsuji didn't expect that [Y/N] will come to his room later that day. They were holding a cardboard box into your arms.

"Hey, Ayatsuji, I have a present for you."

They hand him the box. 

It was a ball-jointed doll. The box looked old, but the doll looked good as knew.

"You like it?" [Y/N] sounded nervous. Ayatsuji nodded. 

"Yes. Thank you, [Y/N]." He smiled warmly at them. [Y/N] returned the gesture.

"You are welcome. Don't be bothered by an old box. This doll were with me for many years now."

Ayatsuji raised an eyebrow.

"Favorite toy?" Ball-jointed dolls wasn't that good for playing with them, but, maybe...

[Y/N] shook their head.

"No. Present from distant relative. My parents kept it hidden. They wanted to keep it for 'better times'. You have no idea how much I wanted to play with it. I often looked at the box, dreaming about playing with it. But, my father always said, that doll was a possible investment in my future." [Y/N] let out a quiet chuckle.

'They wanted to sell it in a future' mentally translated Ayatsuji. Meanwhile, [Y/N] continue talking.

"But, now, I am an adult, it belongs to me, I am the only one, who can decide, what to do with it."

Ayatsuji put box on the table.

"Are you sure? It seems, doll was important to you."

[Y/N] just waved their hand.

'They looked confident'. They are sure.'

"I am sure. Among two of us, you will be the one, who can truly appreciate the doll."

"Thank you again." Ayatsuji nodded slightly in appreciation.

[Y/N]'s smile was bright.

"You are welcome."

🕶️🕶️🕶️🕶️🕶️🕶️🕶️🕶️🕶️🕶️🕶️🕶️

Ayatsuji was gently holding his new doll.

"No. They aren't planning to leave."

In a quiet basement, Ayatsuji's voice sounded louder, that it really was.

But it means that...

He should face it. Few things, that Ayatsuji willingly ignore.

[Y/N]'s nervousness and fear.

And almost empty chat list. With chats, where [Y/N] were ignored.

Bruises, Doc were talking about.

And that little fleeting expression on [Y/N]'s face. Expression, that was too familiar to Ayatsuji Yukito. Expression, he sometimes saw in the mirror, before he stopped constantly thinking about his ability. Expression, that he saw on Gide's and Verlaine's faces.

It was an expression of self-resentment. Of self-disgust.

"Why? Why can't you see, what a great person you are?" whispered Ayatsuji. "Who... Who did this to you, [Y/N]? What could we do to help you?"

There were no answers. For now.

Ayatsuji put the doll back, leaving the basement.

Flags must return soon. They wanted to investigate your workplace.

First steps were made.

As he said, they have a long way ahead of them. He and others should learn to live in the Real World. [Y/N] should get used to have them in their live.

And Ayatsuji and others should show [Y/N], that they won't be alone and won't be ignored anymore.

_______

¹As long as I knew, Ayatsuji's cats don't have official names. So, I decided to named them after Misaki Mei, Main Character of “Another” novel.