#or maybe this is all just me making excuses for being just as gullible as the person i was mad about before

[crownmemes]

Mean Sentences, Vol. 9

(Mean sentences from various sources. Adjust phrasing where needed)

"I don't think I'm better than everybody else. Just you."

"You're not righteous. You've got issues."

"Touchy, aren't you?"

"You know, you're not quite right."

"I'm getting tired of your insecurities."

"I don't really know what to say to you that would tell you how contemptible I think you are."

"Is all of that fresh-scrubbed earnestness just an act, or are you truly oblivious to the wreckage you leave in your wake?"

"You're like a bad omen. Always around for my misery."

"No excuses. You're better than this. It's pathetic!"

"I don't think your intentions are honourable."

"Honey, you look horrific!"

"You may just be the most gullible fool I've ever marked. "

"Hey, I immediately don't like you."

"You're a despicable little termite, you know that?"

"You have a cruel streak. I hadn't realised it before."

"You are not as charming as you think you are."

"This is just you projecting your own intimacy issues on everybody else!"

"At this point, you must be beginning to comprehend the stunning totality of your failure."

"I don't want you. I never wanted you."

"I think you have a problem with your brain being missing."

"I'm not trying to make you feel bad. Well, maybe a little."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're very much like an arachnid?"

"Coming from you, that means almost nothing."

"The day you die, your family will rejoice."

"How come you can't be smart like that?"

"Maybe you are intelligent, but you're also crazy!"

"Do you know what your sin is? It's pride."

"Tell me, were you always like this, or did it come on suddenly?"

"You always ruin everything!"

"Every move you've made since you were a child was born of selfishness and self-pity."

"Christ, you're like a walking cliché!"

"Do you think I don't see through your pitiful subterfuge?"

"Everything is not going to be fine! Why does everyone keep saying that?"

"I'm starting to think you have a little too much time on your hands."

"You always were shifty, ever since the day we met."

"That hat makes you look like an idiot."

"I cannot abide useless people."

"When do you get so fragile?"

"I'm very sorry - did I give you the impression I was asking?"

"I'm adopting a façade of caring."

[gibbearish]

hm ive been thinking about it and i dont feel like that post is actually falling in the division being sown because like. theres no part of me that feels like these beliefs and behaviors are inherent to transfems, and in both that post and the long baeddel one from before i focused entirely on the ops and their specific actions/motivations. and i feel like if there /is/ a way to discuss things like this without falling into the trap, that has to be it. there has to be a way to address the actual issues without it just being about fighting and i can't think of a better way but. idk i do still worry it does more harm than good

[suguae]

snow on the beach.

This was a short drabble, super sorry if it's bad. I've been sick and I wanted to write something!

+ angst

"It's snowing!" Utahime runs outside, her long hair jumping with every pounce. "Wait for me." Shoko walks with hands in her pockets making sure she follows closely behind Utahime.

You turn around to see Suguru walk out of the boys dorm. Haibara running out excitedly with Kento following behind. "Morning y/n!" Haibara waves before throwing himself in the snow. It was a morning to remember.

But all you could do was watch. Today was a morning to remember, but the night before was a nightmare. "He went on a run this morning." Suguru stood next to you interrupting yourself from thinking about last night. "...good for him." You look up at Suguru and awkwardly smile.

"Maybe it's best if we see other people?" Satoru says watching every muscle on your face soften as your eyes got watery. You loved him and he loved you, but never were you expecting him to say those words. But everything happens for a reason?

"If that's what you want..."

"Shoko told me that you think he has another chick?" You sigh and sit on the front step of the girls dorm, Suguru taking a seat right next to you. "A man only says that if he already has another women Sugu..." You fidget with your gloves, the cold wind caused the tip of your nose to get red. "You are both very important to me, but I have no clue of Satoru being with another-"

The nerve, Satoru Gojo had to break up with you the night after and bring the women he left you for back to the campus. His bright smile shining as he throws snowballs at the brunette. She was gorgeous, her laugh, her smile, her looks. Straight off the cover of vogue.

"Hey guys, this is my friend...Miyu." He introduces her to the group playing in the snow. Not bothering to come near you or Suguru. You scoffed looking over at Suguru who was just as shocked as you. "Y/n I'm sorry I really don't know why he'd-" Your eyes getting all watery again, God you hated being such a cry baby. "Don't apologize for him Sugu." You get up walking back to your room.

Satoru spots Suguru sitting, quickly making his way towards him. "Hey why aren't you playing in the snow with the rest?" Satoru takes a seat right next to Suguru. Did anyone think this would happen? Knowing Satoru it was a slim chance but he loved you. Everyone saw it? So why was he already introducing all his friends to another women. "What's the purpose of this...of her?" Suguru points at the brunette who was laughing with Haibara.

"She has a name...listen people move on and they-" Satoru starts giving some lame ass excuse. "Save it for someone more gullible." Suguru scoffed walking in to check on you. Not caring if he'd get punished for walking into the girls dorm.

Your blankets wrapping around your body, the tiny window cracked open letting the cold air enter the room, the vanilla scented candle burning. Lastly, the small sniffles coming out of you. "Y/n...?" It was Suguru, how could you not give in to Suguru. Engulfing him in a huge hug as soon as you feel his weight on the feet of your bed.

The painful cries get louder and each filled with hurt and betrayal. You really loved Satoru, if he'd hurt you this much. Then again it's only been a day since you two have officially ended. Your crying slowed down as you laid with Suguru in the bed. His hand softly petting your head as your arms tightly wrapped around him. "I told you." You mumbled, finally gathering the courage to speak again.

But Suguru didn't even know what to say. Still shocked as to why Satoru would even leave you. Suguru watched you softly drift back to sleep before leaving your room. Everyone was now sitting in the snow sipping on some hot chocolate. "Why hasn't y/n come out!" Utahime asked, watching Suguru leaving the girls dorm. "She doesn't feel good."

How pathetic. Not even bothering to check on you knowing how heartbroken you were and still are. What kind of friends were they? Watching them all sit and laugh as if you weren't hurting.

-

Hours passed, "Want to come get hotpot with us?"

No, Suguru didn't. He hated hotpot, only because you hated it. He loved hotpot. "I'm gonna pass." Satoru sighed before attempting to close the door to Suguru's room..."You got what you wanted, stop moping around."

"I wanted her happy." Suguru sighed looking up at his blue eyed friend. "...And she was the happiest with you." Suguru scrolls on his phone again waiting for Satoru to close the door. Which he thankfully did, not picking a fight.

The door slightly creaked to your room, not a word was said nor could you hear footsteps. Just a sigh and the door closing again. Maybe Sugu checking on you.

-

"Where did everyone go?" You asked walking into Suguru's room. Sitting on the rolling chair to his desk. "Hotpot." He turned his phone off taking all his attention to you. "You didn't go?" Why would he? Why would he leave you here all alone?

"No, wanna go grab something else to eat?" He suggested seeing the soft smile on your face, food never disappointed you. "Let me go bundle up." You rush back to your room.

"You look...warm." Suguru fought the urge to say beautiful. It felt wrong to go after you in the state you were in. He didn't want to feel like he was taking advantage of you. "I am." You smile.

-

"I would 10/10 go back." You give Suguru a thumbs up while rubbing your belly. Your eyes trail off to the side to see the beach. This was a new sight, Snow on the beach? "Can we go down?" You tap Suguru and point. "It's dangerous don't you thin-" before he could even finish his sentence you grabbed his hand and dragged him to the set of stairs. You knew he'd say something like that. So you wasted no time.

Reaching the bottom step, you slip. Your butt hitting the fluffy snow while Suguru fell right on top. You couldn't help but laugh. "What did I-" You threw a snowball at his face to escape from him. running along the snowy white shore. "I'm gonna get you for that!" Suguru giggled running toward you, which he failed due to tripping over his own foot.

You sigh taking a seat next to Suguru. Watching the steady water. "Sugu...Do you like me?" You look at him, waiting for an answer. Embarrassing if he'd say no....

"If I said yes?"

-

"Look how cute they look! I want to do that too, imagine me and you just sitting on the snowy beach?" The brunette clutched onto Satoru's arm. When all Satoru could think about Suguru's words..."She was the happiest with you."

The awful imagine in his head of you wrapped around in your blanket, the same candle Suguru saw was now dead when Satoru walked in. It was something Satoru never imagine. But Miyu made him happy, you made him happy too but he just had more stuff in common with Miyu.

"Miyu, Do you think when two people are too different, it would be hard to work the relationship?" Miyu looked away from the two on the beach. "No...I think if you truly love them, difference is what makes the bond stronger. You learn new stuff about them and they learn new stuff about you." Miyu smiled leaning her head into Satoru's chest.

ouch.

-

"If you said yes...I don't know actually." You lean your head onto Suguru's shoulder. "I love you Suguru don't get me wrong, and I appreciate everything you've been doing for me ever since...you know."

"But..." Suguru looked up at the stars getting ready for you reject him. He couldn't possibly hate you if you rejected him though. No matter what he'd still love you. Like always...."I'm not ready, but you know that."

"Give me a couple weeks, or months..." You grab his hand. "I'd wait for eternity for you y/n....I promise." He squeezes your hand, securing his promise.

-

You two are now making your way back to the dorms. It was darker and quieter. More peaceful. Satoru was sitting out in the front of the girls dorm as if he were waiting. "Clear things up with him..." Suguru whispers. How could you? He hurt you...

You walk towards the dorms, watching Satoru lift his head up at the sound of the snow crunching. "Y/n...." You stop and sat right next to him. "She's beautiful." You look up at the sky, the cold crispy wind hitting your face. "I'm just surprised that..."

"I still love you y/n...and you just won't leave my head. I think and you just keep coming in my head. Seeing you with Suguru drives me crazy and I can't see you just drift away so easily from me."

You look over to see the blue teary eyed, "You should've thought about that before you decided to end things with me Satoru." You were right. You were always right. That's what Satoru loved about you the most. The words you would mutter out would always have a strong righteous meaning.

"And you look happier with her." You wipe the tear from your face. It was true he looked happier, he felt happier too. But seeing you slip so easily ruined the happiness for him. "Maybe next time introduce me, I want to meet her." You smile getting up. Satoru also stood up hovering over you, swallowing you up in a big up. Which surprised you...by a lot.

"I'm so fucking sorry..."

-

"A wedding on the beach...not a fan of the beach but this is too cute." Shoko drops the dead cigarette on the sand, Utahime following her behind amazed at the decor. "They outdid it. I love it!" Utahime jumps up and grabs Shoko's arm.

"This was definitely all planned by y/n." Kento picks up the littered trash from Shoko and throws it in the nearest trash. "No, Suguru would never overbear her with all this work." Satoru sighed.

Much older now...Satoru understands how it felt to lose such a prized possession. The way you read your vows to Suguru and how much love and time you took with yours. He knew Suguru's had to be longer and just as beautifully written as yours. "So she was your ex?" Megumi whispered. That's the only label he had to you. "No wonder she left you for Suguru, you're so weird." Megumi disses the white haired man in the bind fold.

He sighed, "I left her...rookie mistake."

[twisted-wonderland-but-gayer]

May I request Great Seven Yuu with no filter? Maybe the other students are just TESTING THEM that day and with a little prodding from their darling parents, they just say what’s on their mind for the day

Yuu + The Great Seven

Note: This is different from my other great 7 fics as I don't focus on what the 7 say as much here, this also aint the canon unit yuu for this. Anyways enjoy

Cws: Gn!Yuu, Rook is clowned on cause he's French, implications of Crewel/Crowley but in a divorcee way, some cringe ig, minor changes to canon, first years are ur homies, sebek has moments where he yells in all caps cause he's cringe, Lilia knows Maleficent, Trey isn't slandered as much as he should be, Starts off Crack, turns to angst, then fluff. 6k Words

****

Since arriving at NRC, you have been playing your role well, excellent even. You played the role of a magicless, weak, and gullible prefect that knew nothing of the world you were in. The mirror said that you “had too many souls to judge” and that you had no magic, which was technically true as the magic you had was borrowed from the seven sealed within you.

It was going to be perfect. You can finally lay low and research this world to give your dear seven parents and their familiars bodies again, then make your place in this new world… or so you thought. 

Right after the disaster that was the entrance ceremony, you ended up being roommates with the cat and crashed it. Fine, you could work with this. Then the very next day, the cat got into a fight with a pathetic bully which caused a statue to get burned, which then caused another person to get involved, which then caused a chandelier to break, and then you had to go off into a hidden mine to fight a monster late into the night, and you get the story.

It has been consistently difficult to pretend you had no magic, or to make the excuse that “someone else must have casted that spell”. When you eventually had to explain that you were a magician, there went the first half of your plan. Now Crowley and everyone seems to expect more from you, at least you were able to pretend it was weak, you guess. And as if it could get any worse, the seven seem to be encouraged to give these brats a taste of their own medicine and stop holding back. Oh how you would love to but putting up with everyone after, especially the number one pain in your ass, Ace, would be so fucking annoying.

The aforementioned pain in your ass poked you, interrupting the mental conversation you were having with the ensemble in your head, and you had to hold back the urge to use Hades’ flames to set him ablaze. You shut your eyes tightly and tense up before slowly turning to him. “What?” Your eyes narrow as Ace looks over at you with the most infuriating neutral expression that turns to a pout. 

“Were you even listening to me?” “Look, it’s nothing personal, it’s just how I am.” Ace’s lips pursed as he raised a brow. “Really?” Deuce nudged Ace. “Hey, be nice, you know they don't mean to space off like that, it's their condition.” Deuce was truly a blessing. “Seems to me like Yuu is just a space case,” Grim snickered and Sebek nodded his head. “I completely agree with Grim! Honestly, how could you and Silver be so complacent? Do you lack discipline?”

You mentally groaned with the seven at Sebeks scolding. “They don’t lack discipline,” Jack interrupted, “Yuu says they have a condition that delays their thoughts, they need extra time to process what you said.” “Thank you, Jack.” You smile, and feel Ortho glide right next to you and look up at you. “Having a condition like that must be hard… I can't imagine my processor lagging…” Ortho trails off and frowns, “Oh but I’ll try my best to look for a fix for you!” The child beams. Epel looks over at you.

“That is one hell of an issue huh? Some days you're just as quick as anyone else but then sometimes you take forever, it's a fickle thing.” Epel hums and Ace rolls his eyes at everyone defending you. “Tch, yeah what's that about? Sometimes I even hear you talking to yourself, weirdo.” Ace playfully nudges you and you narrow your eyes at him. 

Something within you snaps. Maybe it’s because of all the stress of hiding it. Maybe it's because you have to interact and pretend everything is fine to the students who have bullied, harassed, and tried to kill you resulting in god awful PTSD finally making you snap. Or maybe it's just because you want this damned asshole that has wormed his way into your heart to shut up.

“Because ‘thought processing disorder’ isn’t the best way to actually describe my condition, Ace, but it's sure as hell easier to explain than ‘I have several voices in my head judging me and telling me what to do all the time and no medication cannot stop it no matter what I do and all of your stupid comments and questions makes them erupt in a 10 minute yelling match making it impossible to hear my own thoughts!” 

You sneer at them all as they look over with a mix of surprise and pity, Ortho looks like a kicked puppy. You sigh, “I’m sorry, I just…” “Nah that's nothing to apologize for…” Ace sighs, and you know he wants to apologize but pride won't allow him. “Y’know what if you just say what the voices want to say?” Deuce suddenly asks out of the blue.

“O-of course, I don't know what they say so maybe it's not a good idea but…” “Actually, it may give Ace some patience for once.” Jack gives a small smirk. “We all know he needs to learn to think before he speaks.” “Hey!” Ace huffs. “Fine then, bring it! I can take whatever you throw at me.” And the ginger smirks as if he didn't just say some famous last words.

“You're serious?” You blink. “Do you even think you could handle it?” Sebek scoffs, “I can take anything a measly human dishes out, it is nothing compared to fae!” Epel shuts his eyes in annoyance. “Oh you three don’t even know what you’re getting into, yet you’re already signing up for trouble.” Ortho beams. “Actually, this might help me collect some data to help you, Yuu!” “You four don’t even know what you're getting yourselves into…” Epel corrects himself.

“Okay okay.” You sigh. “Tomorrow, I will allow whatever they say, happen… to an extent at least…” You mutter, making Hades and the Queen of Hearts in your head boo you. Last thing you need is an Arson charge….

****

You laid down on your bed later that day as the sun began to set. “Okay guys… there are only a few ground rules. No murder, and no major property damage, small fires are okay, okay?” Before any of the seven and their familiars could respond or complain, you heard Grim.

“Who’re you talking to? Oh wait, you speaking to the guys in your head?” Grim asked, jumping on the bed and cuddling up to you. “First the mouse in the mirror and now you have some voices in your head, what other secrets are you keeping from me, hmm?” 'A lot actually', you think as you stroke Grim’s fluffy head. “You’ll see tomorrow.” You smile and your excitement made it difficult to sleep that night.

****

You got up, did your daily routine that Mama Grimhilde has laid out for you, before exiting the house with Grim in your arms for breakfast. Of course you haven’t forgotten the deal you made today at all. ‘Pssst, hey small sib~’ Flotsam chuckles darkly in your head, ‘Can I bite someone today?’ You chuckle, “Only if they deserve it.” Grim peeked up at you. “Oh yeah, you’re talking out loud today.” Grim smirks, “I wonder how Explodey-Head’s gonna react to that!”

Slinking into the cafeteria, you get into line per usual, getting a tray of whatever was free that you liked, you had to pinch your pennies this week. Sitting down, you notice that your usual squad was there, including Ace and Deuce, who usually took their time to arrive, and Ortho who usually had to deal with his brother. “Good morning.” You say settling down. “Morning, Yuu!” Ortho beams, “I got here early so I can start the data collection! I'll try to record as much as possible!” 

‘Oh how precious.’ Ursula purrs in your head, and the seven’s consensus on Ortho, even if they didn’t appreciate anklebiters, is that he wasn’t half bad. “So, today you're going to embrace your issues, I SAY BRING IT ON!” Sebek yells, making everyone wince, and Epel shoots a tired glare. ‘Tell that boy to silence! I am trying to nap!’ Scar huffs.

You nervously sigh, “Well first off all, they said to shut up please, it's not even 7 in the morning.” Sebek looks offended for a moment, but a very familiar voice interrupts, sending shivers down your spine. “Oh Koebi-Chan~” A wry voice purrs, making Grim hop off of you to hide. Everyone in your head went ‘oh no this guy again.’

You honestly didn’t mind Floyd, hell, you dare to consider him a friend, but you really were not in the mood for his antics today. “Hey Floyd,” You sigh, “look dude, I’m not in the mood today, can you please leave me alone?” You ask, and your words just make Floyd beam. The seven seem annoyed, but then you feel their excitement; your first victim. 'Humiliate the boy…' Jafar whispers to you.

Floyd drapes himself over you as you eat, occasionally leaning over to try and steal a bite from whatever was on your fork. “Ehh? Little shrimpy’s feeling bold today!~ How fun! Whatcha gonna do about me?~” His arms wrap around you to squeeze around your rib cage, “Especially when I squeeze…” 

“Dude, leave them alone.” Deuce says before freezing at the glare he was shot. "…Please?” He adds. “Look Floyd,” Jack sighs, “we’re trying to get Yuu some help today with an illness, Ortho is trying to get data on them, you aren’t helping.” Jack interrupts, trying to keep your condition vague for your privacy. Seems like Jack forgot that Floyd ignores reason when he finds it funny.

“Ooo~, is the little shrimpy sick?” Floyd says backing off of you slightly and poking you in the ribs. “You know Azul may have a remedy for it, you should come on down.~” “He does not, and for the final time there is nothing he can offer me that would make me want to make a deal with him. Please go away.” You warn one last time and Floyd leans in, pushing his luck in hopes to see you squirm. Ortho glares and prepares to get up and send him away but you hold out your hand to tell him to stop.

“Whatcha gonna do lil shrimpy?~” Floyd smirks. ‘Is it time?’ Hades asks, ‘Please tell me its time.’ You smile and mentally reply, ‘it’s time.’ You keep your calm smile as you look at Floyd. “Probably something my father taught me.” “And what's that?” Floyd says, grabbing the back of your neck. 

“This.” Suddenly you erupted in the brightest blue flames the world has ever seen making half of the cafeteria turn to stare. Your friends at the table all jump back and Ortho flashes red as he scans you. As quickly as the flames came to be, they disappeared. Floyd pulled his hands away, waving it off to cool it down. He wasn’t burned, at least nothing major, but the sleeve of his uniform was singed and he stared at it in rapt fascination.

You expected him to get annoyed, or to maybe start a fight, or something, but Floyd was in a good mood, and he laughed. “I didn’t know little shrimpy could do that! I thought you could only summon an ember, eheheh!~ Seems little shrimpy has more secrets than we thoooought~” Floyd muses, and suddenly another familiar face comes in, one that looks exactly like Floyd.

“Floyd, I believe the prefect doesn’t want to play anymore. Come on now, we should go.” “Aww but I wanna keep playing!” “I know brother dearest, but it seems that the cruel and unwavering Prefect doesn't want to,” Jade faked a frown and sighed, “How awful, if only they could have an ounce of compassion for my poor, poor brother… However, ” Jade opened his eyes back up and smirked, staring directly at you with a twinkle in his eye. “I think it’s best to leave them alone for today, especially since whatever ailment they have seems to make them erupt in flames at any given moment…” 

The eel’s voice drips with faux concern and Floyd snickers, Azul is gonna have some wonderful intel to ponder over later. You decide to say exactly what all of your fathers thinking. “Go eat shit and die for all I care.” And Jade’s eyes widen ever so slightly before the gleam with amusement, having never seen this side of you. “Of course prefect! If this ah… ailment continues to cause you trouble, please do let us know. We at Octavinelle love to help the poor and unfortunate.”

You watched the two slink off before turning back to your meal as all of your first year friends gawked at you. “What the hell was that! You never said you could do that!” Ace sputtered. “Yeah! You nearly cooked me!” Grim whines, making the audience in your head relish in their surprise. Ursula and The Queen of Hearts seem particularly amused. 

“Magic like that requires a lot of skill.” Sebek ponders, “To cast a flame cloak and not burn yourself requires a lot of concentration, furthermore it requires a high amount of magic potential on par with fae. Didn’t you say you have none, Yuu? HAVE YOU BEEN LYING ABOUT WHAT YOU ARE? OR PERHAPS YOU WANTED TO HIDE IT TO SKIRT OUT ON EXAMS!” “Volume!” Deuce whines, and Grimhilde mentally thanks him.

“Oh… whoops…” “WHOOPS??” A few of the first years yell and Epel shoots you an ugly-baffled expression. “Whoops?? Whoops?? Is that all you have to say about that? You performed some of the most advanced defensive magic without a second thought and you just say whoops??” Epel’s accent threatens to slip out.

“Hey, Ortho, what's their magic reading, you look concerned.” Deuce asks as Ortho looks at the screens he’s projecting with a calculating expression. “I think there is an error in my system, I have scanned them 5 times and it says they have no traces of magic at all, but there is also no trace of any dampening magic used to hide or change that reading. Furthermore, the technique they used is no longer in use, records show it dates back more than the era of gods! That version of the spell they casted cannot be duplicated at all!” Ortho says in amazement before turning to you.

“Just… what are you?”

You blink as they all stare at you expectedly. “I'm a human.”

****

It was time for class, you said that you were gonna use the bathroom first, so the others should go without you for now, you’ll see them with Crewel. You didn’t think that anything eventful would come from it. You were wrong. This is NRC.

Coming out of the bathroom, a few Savanahclaw chuds cornered you. “Can I help you?” You asked exasperatedly to the NRC equivalents of Beavis and Butthead. “Tch, you know why we're here!” “…No, I don't.” You blink rubbing your eye, which just pissed off the duo even more.

“You made a fool out of our dorm during the spell drive competition!” “Oh god, is that what this about, dude that was nearly a year ago.” “Yeah and we came back to settle the score.” You just raised a brow and a small smile crept to your face.

‘Oh! Oh! Can I bite now? Please please please can I bite now! Come onnnn I’ve been such a good eel!’ Flotsam pleads and you hear the familiars speak. ‘Me want bite!!’ Ed whines. Raven caws, ‘Yeah me too!’ Iago agrees. ‘We wanna join too!’ The imps laugh. ‘I will… stay here…’ Diaval sighs.

You blink. “Sick em.” You say, making the two idiots make a face at you. Flotsam immediately lunges for the ass. “AIIIIEEE!” One yells and you hold back a snort as the others join, Iago and Raven both grabbing onto the members hair and pecking at them. Jetsam basically lassos around one, making him trip so the hyena trio can rough him up. The imps both transform into a blue and red cat respectively and continue to add to the looney tunes violence of it all.

The two run off and the familiars return to you, except for the eels that slither miserably in place on the smooth, frictionless floor. “Help us up.” Jetsam scoffs. “No I think I’ll stay like this a bit longer.” 'Angelfish…' Ursula warns. "... yes mom…"

…

..

.

On your way to class you run into Crowley who attempts to stop you and unload another issue for you to deal with. Instead you say what your familiars wanted to say. “You are gay.” You say, making the man just stare at you as you walk off. “And Crewel also has weirdly complicated feelings for you.” 

“FEELINGS YOU SAY?? WHICH ONES?? WHICH SORT OF FEELINGS YUU?? YUU!!!” You speed walk off regretting that decision, but you admit it will be funny to see those two get divorced. Crewel deserves better.

****

Animal Linguistics was always a bit of an annoying class, and this time, Trein has invited a few of the more advanced students to the class to help you freshmen. Ace let out a deep sigh when he saw Ruggie, knowing this guy will only do the bare minimum for his grade and charge any lesson extra.

“So when the cat goes ‘mrrrp?’ You're good, usually you should try to respond with a ‘mah Ah’” Ruggie explains to your group. “Do we always have to talk to cats and mice? I feel like we should also practice some other creatures too…” You sigh. 

Trein overhears you and responds. “Your birds don’t count, Yuu. They are able to speak.” You sigh. “Okay…” You sigh and Ruggie gives you that stupid shit-eating grin. “Aw, you not satisfied with my lesson?” “No.” You glare, which surprises Ruggie, unused to your assertiveness. “I can speak to animals already and I’ve been teaching these boneheads, we're fine here.” 

“Yeah but you say things that don't make sense…” Grim complains. “It doesn’t make sense because you guys are not used to the accents animals have. You know what, hold on, I‘ll get some real good ones to practice on.” “Huh what are you—?” Ruggie gawks when he sees three whole hyenas appear out of nowhere along with two eels around your waist. 

“They are not allowed to speak in their human voices. Knock 'em out, guys.” “Yuu! Where did you even…” Trein sighs. “Fine, fine, they can stay as long as they are well behaved…” The hyenas cackle and the eels snicker. Deuce nervously looks into the crossed eyes of Ed who winks in response.

Ace seals his lips to hold back a laugh until Banzai leans where he stares nervously. “Seduce me bro.” “AYO???”

****

Soon history class came, and once again a special guest was brought in, Lilia. The lesson went fine. Your sass wasn't needed. You kept quiet as you took a few notes here and there, and the end bell soon rang out. You stared at a particular note you took. 

‘The Thorn Fairy’s wings were leathery and bat-like, much like a dragon.’ 

You looked down at the note, and Maleficent herself seems to hum. ‘Seems like he is still following orders years later.’ She says and doesn’t elaborate. As students begin to pack up and leave, you wave down Lilia, who puts a hand on his hip and waits for you.

“Oho? What is it, prefect?” Lilia beams as you look at the note you took in your open notebook. “I have a question about what you said about the Thorn Fairy.” Lilia nods, “Well yes, what is it? It always warms my heart to see youngsters value history.”

You look at the note again. “You said that her wings were leathery and bat-like.” Lilia nods his head. “But aren't they feathered?” Lilia’s smile drops. “In fact she lost her wings too but got them back at some point, right? Did they become leathery during those years they were gone? Is that what you mean?”

Lilia looks at you, a bit of shock in his eyes, before he quietly speaks to you. “How do you know that?” “Know what?” “The Thorn Fairy only disclosed that information to two people, her raven, Diaval, and me…” You freeze for a moment and then Diaval appears on your shoulder to caw at him. 

Lilia stares at you, then at the raven, then back to you. “Diaval, is that you…? Why are you with… wait does that mean—" Lilia was cut off. “Yo, Yuu!” Deuce calls out from the doorway. “You coming?” You clear your throat and nod. “Yeah, I’m coming!” You look over at Lilia, “Thank you for your time.” He could only stare as you walked off and Diaval cawed an apology 

***

Towards the end of the day, you and your first year friends were all going to hang out at Heartslabyul to study together, which you know was code for ‘get distracted halfway and hang out’. You walked down the main path to the mirror chamber when you felt a familiar presence nearby. You were being watched.

“Come out Rook, I know you're there.” You look over at one of the apple trees, and narrow your eyes when you see Rook pop out from behind it all theatric. “Très bien, Trickster! You found me, that is a feat not many can achieve!” The weirdo beams. You nodded. “Yeah, you don't need to stalk me by the way. I am happy to get to know you through talking…”

“Non non, Trickster, you say that however I believe you don’t truly speak your mind!” The French man smiles. “I notice that you are not true to yourself! Always holding back your strength and what you mean to say, when I caught wind you were going to be yourself for a day, I could not help but try to study you!” Okay wow, he has you read.

“You can learn so much more about a person through their actions, but alas, you are so good at concealing those too, mon dieu, you are quite the mystery that I hope to uncover, and the most challenging one to date!” Rook says in awe. “I enjoy a good hunt, and this one has been most enthralling!” “I’ve always been able to sense when you're there, its why I tend to slink off not long after.”

“Merde! Is that so?” Rook smirks, and you sweat, you fucked up. “Aha, I knew you knew of me! Oh how fun! I have never had such good prey before!” You narrow your eyes slightly as he continues. “Would you dare to tell me how you are able to detect me so easily? Ah– but of course, if you don't that makes things much more magnifique!” 

“Um… I honestly actually don't know how I do, I just do?” Rook seems pleased, “How effortless! Tres bien! Beauté! I must hone my skills as a hunter more! Until next time, Yuu!” Rook begins to walk off before pausing and his smile drops for a moment.

“And even if it is not me, I do hope you can truly open up to somebody someday. Anyone would be lucky to have that level of trust with a Trickster such as yourself! Holding everything in does you no good! Au revior, little trickster, or perhaps I should call you le Chevalier Mystère?” Rook has that small sparkle in his eye.

“Switch it up now and then, keep it interesting.” You nod at Rook “À bientôt!” He says, and he seems to be muttering some weird French poem about strangers and beauty as you leave.

****

You were stopped yet again on your way to Heartslabyul as you passed the mystery shop. The door was open and you see Trey ponder how he’s going to carry the groceries he brought back to the dorm. “Hey Trey,” you walks in and wave, “you look conflicted, something up?”

“Ah prefect, I am actually,” Trey wears that smiley-wincing expression that Trey has when he’s in deep shit. “I'm sorry to bother you, but could you help me carry some of these bags back to my dorm? It may take a few trips but I promise a treat in return.” “You don’t need to Trey, I’ll help you even without one, you’ve been kind to me.”

Trey’s brows raise slightly and he adjusts his glasses, looking away awkwardly. “Ah, well, thank you, Prefect.” Trey rolls up his sleeves, revealing his forearms as he prepares to grab a bag. "Those bags of flour and sugar are quite heavy, so be careful— wuh?” Trey stared dumbstruck as you lifted 500 pounds worth of dry ingredient bags in one arm. “I- how are you— Is that not heavy?” 

“It is, but I’m used to it.” “At least let me help—“ “No, no  fine, lets go.” “O… kay…” Trey adjusts his glasses and you both walk off to Heartslabyul, making a lot of people turn their heads as you pass by. 

Entering the dorm, you notice Deuce and Grim gawk at you. “Give me a minute, I’m helping Trey!” You shout as you walk everything to the kitchen and set it down on the counter. “There.” Trey stares at the pile you put down, mentally going through all the times before you acted so weak. “Ahem, thank you prefect, Ace told me you would be over in the rose garden to ‘study’ right?” “They never study.” Trey gives that 'Trey sad smile' from earlier. “You got that right.”

****

Exiting the kitchen, you look into one of the mirrors hanging on the walls of the dorm, adjusting your appearance when yet another annoying voice interrupts you. “O-M-G! It's Yuu-Chan!” Cater shouts with his typical manufactured smile. “Heyyyy!” He waves and you feel your brain melting in your skull. “Hey Cater, what's up?”

“I have a questionnn!~” He smiles, pulling up something on his phone. “Are these you?” You sweat and look over to the images he pulled up. There was one of you in flames in the cafeteria, and another of you in the hallway wheezing at the pack of familiars all jumping the two chuds. “Yeah… yeah you caught me…”

“They’re trending locally right now and you know I just have to get in on that! Mind if we take a pic?” “Go ahead.” You sigh and Cater immediately snaps a selfie of him and your exhausted self. “Me and the bestie! #NRCProblemChild #NRCConspiracy #IsekaiProtag #ExtraTerrestrialPrefectConspiracy! Aaannnd post! Thank you, Yuu-Chan, I’m curious though what was that about?”

“Those two assholes were trying to beat me up and don’t worry about the other one.” “Don't worry?” Cater scoffs as you adjust yourself in the mirror again. “Helllooo the magicless prefect, turned slightly magical, turned to god-like mage suddenly does that within a year! That's gotta be something!” Cater beams and then looks over at you and sweats.

You were glaring at him, but the mirror in front of you had several eyes also glaring at him. “… Who’s that?” “Who’s what?” “That!” Cater points to the mirror and when you turn to look it disappears. “That's me, Cater, I know I look a bit different since first arriving, but I don't think I look half bad.” You gave an insincere smile.

“My friends are waiting for me Cate, seeya..."

****

You left the hangout early, not liking all the questions probing into your mind or your past at all, in fact you left pretty upset with some insinuations and accusations of your insincerity. “Are we even friends, Yuu?” Deuce frowned. “Have you been lying to us?” Jack glares. You sigh, and walk randomly, no destination in mind. 

“Why aren't you opening up to us?” Ace huffs. “I mean you trust us right?” Ace’s frown turned to offense when he saw you look away. “Dude come on! When have we given you a reason to not trust us?” You snap at him. “Our very first meeting was you insulting me and since then you have been roping me into trouble!” 

Ace looked guilty there. “Yuu…” Epel frowned and Ortho shot a glare at Ace. “Human, Ace may have had a rough meeting but what about us?” “What about you? What about you?” You dragged your hands across your face. 

“There's a lot about you guys actually! From Mr. Don’t-Be-Friendly-Cause-We’ll-Never-be-Friends over here to Mr.Internalized-Racism-Against-My-Kind here! And let’s not forget I-Cause-Half-Of-Your-Problems-And-Sometimes-Leave-You-WIthout-Food-For-A-Few-Days Grim! Yeah I have no clue! It's almost like I tried opening up to you all before but I was brushed off. It's almost like I have been telling you that I have been having these prophetic dreams since arriving and have been telling you about a man living in my mirror and calling out to me constantly! And everytime— every fucking time its nothing or no big deal!”

You wipe away tears. “I have been trying to talk, but nobody's listening. It’s like I’m made to understand and not be understood! I have been having to put everyone else before myself and solve everyone’s else’s problems without a thank you or someone to lean on since day one! I mean, all these blots have given me fucking scars. Physical fucking scars! All while I was being berated for being a weak little human too! And what? I still am expected to bend over backwards for the people that tried to kill me? Everything’s swept under the rug for everyone else but me, huh? No one ever checks on me, hell, I am not even acknowledged half the time when I’m in the same room as someone, so yeah I also wonder why I don't talk.”

You push yourself up and grab your things. “Wait!” “No, no! Leave me alone, for once will you leave me alone willingly!” “Yuu come on! We’ll listen.” You pause. “Yuu isn’t even my name.” You glare. “It isn't…?” Grim asks. “I have been called ‘You’ this entire time here because no one bothered asking my name and everyone assumed it was ‘Yuu’. I don't even get to introduce myself anyways when I do get asked. I am not my own person, and you never made me feel like my own person.”

You walked off. Looking back now you regret it. You’re embarrassed, you sounded so stupid. You wipe away a few tears and feel a presence appear, Cerberus. The three heads nudge and cuddle you as you sob and you can feel the sevens hands all trying to soothe you. ‘There, there’ one says. Let it out.’ Another responds. ‘Poor thing.’ 

“Come on, boy, it's been a while since you’ve been on a walk…” You mutter, and think back to what Rook said to you earlier. Opening up to someone was a Herculean task on its own, but someone understanding you was impossible. Even telling people the truth can get you or them in trouble…

You lead the way down to the Ignihyde dorm. No one in that dorm leaves their room anyways, it's safe for your good boy to walk around there. 

***

There was in fact a certain dorm leader there, who was just as shocked to see you and a giant dog. Idia punched in the number to a snack at the vending machine, turned around and gawked at the giant dog behind him. He then looked over at you.

“Yuu? Is that-? I mean is he—? Ortho said you—… Is that the real…?” Idia sputtered, not sure what  to ask first. “Shut it weeb, no ones gonna believe you.” Idia gawked even more. Since when were you so sassy? No seriously, you were also so overly kind to everyone it unsettled him.

“…Sorry…” you mumble. “You can pet him… he’s… soft…” Idia blinks and offers out a hand. One of the heads sniffs it before nuzzling into him. “Holy shit…” Idia whispers as he immediately starts fawning over the dog.

“Who’s some good boys, who’s some boys? Oh that's a great pupper! Oh yes you all are!” It’s strange to see Idia all smiley to himself, but it’s pleasant. “How did you—“ “I can't answer that.” You respond. “So dont ask…”

Idia goes quiet leaning back from the heads that licked him, his flaming locks dancing behind him. “Ortho said you haven’t been feeling well…” “I haven’t been, not for a while, I guess it finally all came out to the point where it’s noticeable…” “Ah, I feel that…” Idia trails off awkwardly.

“I know we're not friends, but I appreciate you.” Idia mumbles. “You make Ortho very happy, and I love seeing my little brother happy… He says you're like another sibling and insists we would get along. He really wants me to get to know you… and uh.. We don't have to, but… yeah… Thank you, I guess…’ Idia looks like he’s about to die, but he speaks again.

“Ortho says you make him feel human, and that you’ve been helping him learn more about how to find out who he is more than anyone else, more than me, even, probably cause you got out more… He told me you were upset, and he’s worried about you. So uh… please reach out to him?”

“Thank you, Idia…” You sigh. “Yeah I will, I will reach out to him, its not his fault, I just… I just need time to think… I don't even know who I am, or what comforts me…” “Um, I don't know what you like… but uh… actually, give me your number. I know a pretty cool site with a lot of free shows, I think there’s a few you’ll like.” He offers an attempt at a smile. “And also maybe you try a few video games? If you haven’t tried them already… who knows maybe we can play together…” You smile and open up your contacts. “Yeah, I would like that actually…” 

A new contact was added: ‘Gremlin.’

****

Walking off to your dorm, you dare not go in. You don't know if your friends are all waiting for you inside, or if Grims there. You sorta don't want to deal with that right now still. The corners of your eyes catch a familiar sight. Fireflies dance through the night, coming out of the grass and surrounding you.

“Hey, Tsunotaro… Heh, maybe I ought to call you ‘Firefly’ or king of the fireflies, maybe.” You wipe your eyes as you turn around and there he is, your Tsunotaro. You both don't know each other's names, but you don't need to. Tsunotaro and Child of Man work just fine.

“Greetings, Child of Man, it’s always good to see you but…” The fae frowns, “are you alright, Child of Man? You seem troubled…” “I… Yeah I am… I just… don’t know what to do…”

Your friend carefully reaches out to you before retracting his hand. “Do you want to talk about it?” “I think I need a distraction…” “I can do that,” Tsunotaro offers his hand. “Come with me.

You have never seen so many pretty colors before as Malleus casts a few spells, making the forest into the most beautiful light show you’ve ever seen. Mushrooms glow from where they sprout, leaves swirl with beautiful patterns, and the fireflies dance through the sky against the stars. You swear you can hear music from them.

“This is… This is beautiful…” “I am glad you enjoy it,” Malleus watches as you watch each step you take, the leaves below you glowing with each step. “Are you feeling better now?” “Yeah, I am… You know…” you pause nervously.

“Yes? What is it?” “It feels like… you're my only true friend…” The lightshow around you flickers for a moment. “Is that so…” Malleus stares wide eyed. “Yeah… Just… I can be kind to everyone… but I can't be friends with anyone. They all don't really get to know the real me, you know?” Malleus stares off.

“I do know that feeling well… You are my only friend…” You pause and look at him. The lights behind you turn to a more pinkish hue. “That's hard to believe, you are a wonderful person.” “Likewise, Child of Man. I would think someone as kind as you would have much more.”

You sniff, “I’ve been helping so many people, but it feels like…” You sigh. “I have seen the hard work you have put into everything. Not a lot of people can say they have gone through what you have gone through and won. You are much stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

Malleus takes your hand. “I am sorry that others do not acknowledge that. I hope those around you soon start to realize what a blessing you are.” You squeeze his hand. “Come on, why don’t we both enjoy this light show?” 

…

..

.

At the very last waltz, your legs feel like jelly, and you cannot tell if it's because of how happy you are or because you've been standing too long. You pull away gently. “Thank you Tsunotaro, for everything.” Malleus nods. “It was nothing. Thank you for being my friend.” He stares off to the sky for a moment. “Farewell, Child of Man, may the night be full of promise for you.” 

The fae starts to fade away and you reach out, using a spell of your own. “Wait…” You hold onto Malleus’ arm making him appear again. The fae looks at you with shock. “You overrode my magic…” Malleus whispers, and his shocked face turns to one of awe and his eyes hint towards excitement. “No one has ever been able to do that… Just what else are you hiding, Child of Man?” 

“I want to give you my name.” “Your name?” Malleus looks shocked once again. “My real name.” “Don't you know of the stories about giving your name to Fae?” “I know them, but I trust you. I know you would never hurt me.” Your expression and voice is so sure it nearly overwhelms the fae.

“You trust me that much? I could smite you with lightning in an instant.” “Then smite me.” Malleus paused and nothing happened. “See? I know you wouldn’t hurt me. You’ve had opportunities this entire time and you haven’t.” “You really want to tell me Child of Man? When I have not even given you my name?” Malleus' voice nearly shakes.

“You don't need to. But if you do, no matter what name comes out, I won't be afraid.” You take his hand, and for the first time since arriving, you introduce yourself, and you tell him your name, your real name.

“I see, what a wonderful name… I supposed I shall finally tell you mine as well.” The fae smiles, “Draconia. Malleus Draconia…” “Malleus? That's not too bad for yourself…” Malleus lets out a laugh at that. “I suppose not.” He smiles then looks off again. “Well then, friend… Thank you for everything tonight. I have not been this happy in a long time…” 

“Good night, Malleus. I hope to see you again soon.”

“Good night, Child of Man…” 

He fades out and you hear Maleficent speak to you. ‘He likes you.’ She says, and you hear a few voices teasing you. You chuckle and find the strength in you to go back into your dorm and confront tomorrow. Rook’s words from earlier echoes through your mind. You have found people you can truly open up to.

[dontbesoweirdkira]

Can you please write for a yandere NWH Peter Parker x reader who is smarter than him? Like they knew right away he was stalking them and played along?

Also omg I can't believe we are mutuals now, I adore your page so much <3

A/N: I hope I understood your ask properly. Aww that's super sweet! I try to follow back people who interact with my content a lot and show support back! Glad we are moots too. <3

Warnings: mentions of stalking..

Masterlist

Requests: open

Okay i'm going to say on record that if I *had* to have one of the Peters as a stalker...I would want it to be his. Not because I'm a fan girl of Tom or anything but his Peter is by far the most harmless. Like if I saw Tobey's or Insomniac's spiderman stalking me, I'd be absolutely terrified. Tom's Peter is just a ray sunshine and rainbows lollll

Here's the thing, Peter cannot be stealthy to save his life. Which is rather ironic because as spiderman, he is insanely cunning...

Maybe at first he's able to tiptoe around you a little better. You might notice his presence oddly always being around,,,even at places you know he'd never go to but you brush it off. In the beginning his obsession is more like a subtle crush. He doesn't particularly act out of the ordinary when he's around you. Awkwardness, stuttering, poorly witted banter are all Peter's signature when speaking to anyone.

But you still take a mental note of his light stalking.

As he spirals deeper and his attraction towards you becomes more obvious, you know for sure that he's stalking you. It's even become more frequent. Like I said this Peter is so harmless that you just find his behaviors to be more amusing than anything. It's funny because you can tell that he thinks he's being inconspicuous but his gooey smile alone is enough to give him away. lol

You probably don't do anything about it at first, he's not really hurting you. The man just is lovesick..but maybe eventually you decide to have a bit of fun with it.

It becomes a game of making Peter as flustered as possible. Like you'll purposefully wonder into dead-ends, secluded or intimate places (libraries, locker rooms, underwear stores ect) just to catch him in the act and be like "Oh hey Pete!....whatcha doing here?" It's fun watching him freak out and created some stupid excuse. You always act oblivious and go along with his answers.

Sometimes you'll touch caress his arm, ruffle his hair, and make intentional eye contact to watch him squirm. Even choosing more endearing words that you know he'll hang on to. He's probably convinced himself that you are falling in love back. Do you understand what you are truly doing to him??

Maybe you purposefully leave your house unlocked on your blinds open to make his endeavors a bit easier. You're curious to see if he'd be willing to go far enough to actually go in your house... or photograph you from outside..

As light as he is with his steps, you can feel his presence over you as he's watching you rest...

You notice things going missing from your drawers..

It intrigues you as you watch him go from being a total creep behind you back to acting innocent in your face. He easily falls right into your traps. It's almost painful how gullible and clueless he is.

You kind of don't want to give up your act as you've become obsessed with him in your own way. Maybe not in love but just with the peculiarity of the situation... No one would believe you if you told them about this whole thing. If you weren't so calculated about it, you probably would've thought you were insane too.

It was hard not to laugh in his face when he asked for your address to pick you up for a date when you know for a fact he knows the layout of your house like the back of his hand.

Maybe you do end up giving up your cover one day. You know that he's hiding in your closet, watching you study when you finally blurt out..

"Peter, it's been months now. I know you've been stalking me. I know you're hiding in here, you can come out."

Can you imagine the pure look of fear and guilt on his face.. Peter doesn't even know how to react. Like he's fully freaking out in the closet and you can here his little curses and shuffling. He's so adorbs. "Peter...just come out" he says something stupid like "uhh it's not Peter it's...Ignacio, your....cleaning lady..??" He eventually comes out and he feels far too guilty to even look at you. If he had a tail it's be between his legs ahhh... He's completely convinced that you are going to tell him to stay away from you or yell at him.. Like it's so embarrassing how slick he thought he was.

[butdaddyiloveh3r]

opinion time, maybe it's because I'm Gaylor I see it this way. But it absolutely confuses and boggles my mind at some swifties who believe absurd theories. I'm talking about all the rep tv theories people come up with. These theories are so mathematical and unbelievable. When they predict she’ll announce it on this date, which has happened many times now, and well it never happens. They literally will say “oh the moons aligning with Venus, so this means rep tv is coming”. Every rep tv theory or even any theory about new music of hers or debut tv are such reaches. What annoys me about this is they are convinced rep tv or ts12 is coming because of these theories which often use math and equations. but God forbid she leaves simple easter eggs that she is queer, because apparently that is so unbelievable. Or maybe it just doesn't fit their narrative of her. Taylor has been so loud about her pride for years, does queer flagging which apparently to some are just colors, nothing important. But these fans know she uses clothing for easter eggs and clues, and if she wears black or snake print, they immediately say rep tv. But when she wears a bisexual wig or a lesbian dress, that doesn't mean anything. It pains me to see people ignore her being queer when she makes it so obvious.

Another thing is when she references anything historical, or a piece of literature, or a famous poet, they call her a mastermind. They also do this when she leaves easter eggs. But when she uses queer history as ways to hint her queerness, that's apparently so absurd. using queer flags and colors to show she's gay, they simply don’t believe that she would use that much historical context, or they will say she just likes rainbows. Any gay person will recognize queer elements that she leaves for us to recognize. So, it really baffle's me when they believe she can reference old poems and people but can't reference queer history. Because maybe just maybe they can't admit she is gay, so they make excuses and ignore it. Taylor is incredibly smart, so yes, she does references lots of old literature but also lots of queer history, that's what makes her a mastermind. I've quite literally seen people flip the gay references and easter eggs to something that its Cleary not to fit the narrative they have made for her. Or when she uses easter eggs that are explicitly gay they will say that Gaylor's are reaching yet their own gullible selves believe every theory about her that doesn’t include that fact that she is queer.

“I gave so many signs” - Taylor swift Exile

[imfoive]

The Youngest Son - Chapter 3

Minho x Reader (fem.) Genre: non-idol au!, Suspense, Angst, Romance, Mature Warnings: mentions of drugs, smoking, alcohol, cursing, death, murder, somewhat proofread WC: 3.7k A/N: Part is on the shorter end. Feedback is always welcome, enjoy! ── MASTERLIST

Synopsis: The youngest son of the Lee family was stubborn, he was arrogant, he was conniving. Hiding it all behind the mask of a calm and collected man, the youngest son was a master at mind games. Playing a dangerous game where trust is a luxury and betrayal lurks around every corner. He had sworn once, to not let family ties or any feelings hold him back. Yet, against all odds, she had him completely wrapped around her fingers, and he had no desire to break free.

Missed a chapter? - Chapter 1 / Chapter 2

CHAPTER 3 ───────────────────

Minho always ended up being the one to clean up the messes made by members of the Lee family. Whether it was dealing with the fallout from Jae’s actions or smoothing over the tensions with the Park family, it fell on him to fix things. He had a knack for knowing the right words to say, the right way to handle situations, and how to charm and appease others. Despite being looked down upon, he was the one to handle his brothers’ and cousins’ mistakes, and he excelled at it.

So he showed up to visit Y/N’s father, the man’s favorite whiskey in hand and his signature, charming smile plastered on his face.

Upon hearing that Minho was in her father’s study, Y/N hurriedly rushed to make her way to the family house. She proudly displayed her exaggerated bruise. Her father’s face lit up with a smile, upon her arrival. Clearly he’s had a drink. Minho glanced up from his seat beside her father, who sat comfortably in his armchair.

   “Well, if it isn’t my bruised peach.” Her father joked, eliciting a playful eye roll from Y/N and a suppressed snicker from Minho.

Her father chuckled, reaching for his box of cigars.

   “What a surprise. What brings you here?” He asked.

Y/N gracefully took a seat on the long sofa opposite the two men in their armchairs.

   “I wanted to thank you, Father, for calling off the engagement. You handled it very well that morning.” She said as an excuse, though her eyes stole glances at the younger man.

Her father chuckles and turns over to Minho. He clears his throat.

   “Speaking of that. Son, you studied law, didn’t you?”

   “Ah yes, briefly.” Minho sits up, nodding.

   “The engagement is off, but I’m a little worried about the contract we had signed. I can say a lot of things through anger, but of course there’s a hold back.”

   “Well.” Minho adjusted in his seat, exchanging glances between Y/N and her father.

   “Depending on the severity of contract breach and all its terms, you may be able to terminate it with minimal financial consequences.” He explained.

   “Perhaps if you show me the contract, I can provide further assistance.” Minho offered with a smile, trying to be persuasive yet respectful.

He was charming. But not enough for the older man to laugh and open up the contract right there. He wasn’t that gullible.

   “Maybe some other time. For now I’ll take the whiskey you brought with you.” Her father laughs off the topic, putting one of his cigars in his mouth. He extends the tin box of the neatly laid out smokes.

   “Here, take one. Let’s have a smoke.”

Minho shakes his head, politely declining.

   “Thank you, but I don’t smoke.” He replied, glancing at Y/N.

   “Good, good. It’s really not a good habit. But what can I do after all these years.” He mused, cigar dangling between his lips.

   “Are you sure? It’s the expensive kind, he doesn’t offer that to just anyone you know?” Y/N presses with a brow raised.

Minho nods, still polite, still gentlemanly.

   “I’m sure.” He looks right at her. ─────────────────────── He always found solace on the school rooftop—it was quiet, empty, and an easy escape. Leaning over the white railing, he took a puff of his cigarette, his gaze fixed on the imposing letters of the main building across from him.

Lucian Academy: The Next Generation Leaders

He scoffed quietly to himself. It seemed ridiculous no matter how many times he read it. And he read it every time he came up here. His eyes wandered back to the sign as he inhaled another drag of smoke.

   “So that’s what you do up here.”

Her voice, as familiar and annoying as ever, interrupted his thoughts. He didn’t need to turn to know it was her.

He was accustomed to her presence by now, tired of telling her to leave him be. But Y/N was as stubborn as she had always been, ten times more irritating than she was a year ago.

   “Since when did you start smoking?” She asked, leaning casually against the railing next to him.

As usual, he didn’t dignify her question with a response.

   “Your father visited again, didn’t he?” She continued, glancing at the drops of blood on the collar of his white dress-shirt.

He looked down, noticing the stains, remnants of a bloody nose he thought he had cleaned up.

   “Doesn’t it hurt?” She prodded further.

   “Don’t you have anything better to do?” He retorted finally, turning to look at her, his eyes narrowing slightly, though he knew she wouldn’t give him a serious answer.

   “Better? Here? Ha!” Y/N laughed bitterly, turning her gaze towards the main building. She scanned the campus below.

Minho took another drag of his cigarette, exhaling softly. And she begins to cough.

   “Everyone looks so...” She trailed off with a cough.

   “Stupid?” He finished for her, his tone dry.

Y/N met his gaze, holding it for a moment. His eyes flickered down to the cigarette in his hand, another cough escaping her lips before she’s glancing back down.

   “Don’t you think?” She pressed.

He stared at her for a beat before dropping the cigarette to the ground and stamping it out with his foot.

   “You’ve ruined my mood.” He muttered, walking away.

Minho had quit smoking that day. ─────────────────────── Her father had stepped out of his office for a moment, apologizing for not being able to see Minho out, although Y/N was happy to do that in his stead.

The older man leaves the duo, one still sitting on the sofa, the other standing up with her father. The door closes with a soft click, leaving a brief silence that Y/N disrupts by throwing a sofa pillow at Minho. He catches it deftly, eyebrows raised in surprise at her sudden playfulness. She stands, her slippers making sounds as they scuff against the floor.

   “So you’re really here for something else right?” Y/N picks up the bottle of liquor he had brought as a gift, examining it with a mix of curiosity and suspicion as she walks to her father’s desk and casually perches on its edge. He was obviously not here for cigars and a nice chat, that too with her father.

He puts his hands into the pockets of his trousers.

   “Why do you ask if you already decided on the answer?

She rolls her eyes, going through the files on her father’s desk.

   “Would it hurt to answer my question without asking another question?” She mutters, reading the words on the covers of the scattered work.

   “Ah.”

Her fingers pick out the red-covered file, pulling it out of the pile.

   “‘If you were to show me the contract, I can gladly help you with it even more.’” She mocks, attempting to imitate his voice from earlier.

He stares at the file in her grasp, and she looks at him in a taunting way. He had forgotten for a moment. He had forgotten that even though she might act like she doesn’t have a care in the world, she was always watching him.

He sighs, dropping his head for a second before looking back at her.

   “What do you want for it?”

She clicks her tongue, slipping off the desk, playing with the contract and all the other information he said he’d get and report to his father, his grandfather.

   “Too bad I can’t just give you the file, my father would be pissed.” She pouted, putting the file back into its place.

   “But take me shopping after work tomorrow and I’ll tell you all about it myself. I made sure to learn every single detail about it after the engagement announcement, so I’m a very trustworthy source.” She shrugs proudly.

Minho ponders for a while. Of course, he had thought about manipulating the information out of Y/N. She was always well-informed or found a way to become so, and she did a good job of keeping such knowledge to herself. But he knew she wasn’t naive. She played her cards when it suited her, and evidently, now was one of those times. Though shopping was not what he expected. He could already envision the shopping spree she’d demand, the outfits she’d make him try on, and the inevitable gossip about him being her “boy-toy” that would continue to follow. Considering the time she would likely make him waste, he wondered if it was worth it. He had other avenues to uncover the supposed secret deal between his older uncle and her father, though it required more time and effort.

   “I bet you’re thinking of other ways to find out. Ugh, I’m offended by that, Lee Minho.” Y/N crosses her arms over her chest, feigning an upset expression.

He doesn’t bother to ask how she guessed, not surprised that she reads his expression so easily, at this point. Instead, he steps closer, his eyes studying her intently before reaching up to touch her face, brushing his thumb over the bruise on her cheek, smudging the hint of blue makeup.

   “You amaze me sometimes.” He can’t help but smile in astonishment, observing the color on his thumb.

She blinks for a moment, his soft expression catching her off guard before she laughs, shrugging as if to say it was obvious.

   “It’s called Project Rose Gardens. It’s a forty billion dollar deal. My father thought an engagement would be assurance that it won’t go south. Obviously that didn’t work out too well.” She spills, rolling her eyes.

It was Minho’s turn to blink dumbfounded. He was stunned. Y/N was a master of surprises, and even after knowing her for so long, she manages to surprise him when he least expects it.

   “Now get out before my father suspects you of actually snooping around for this information.” She says, patting his jacket and gently pushing him back.

He walks backwards, and she closes the door on his face. He was…speechless.

Y/N will always be a mystery to him. The meeting had seemed to be a success of some sorts. Minho was certain that extracting any information from Park Hyunmin, the head of the Park family, would be challenging. However, he hadn’t expected the sole heiress to blurt it all out just because he complimented her.

He knew.

Of course, he knew.

The clear interest Y/N had in him wasn’t something he was blind to. He was simply reluctant to acknowledge it. He allowed the rumors to swirl around them, whispers in his ear about their supposed relationship. There was no need for him to clarify. People loved to invent scenarios in their minds, and the more he denied it, the more attention it would attract. And he didn’t need that unnecessary mess.

But Y/N always had a way of dragging him into unwanted messes.

He had finally arrived home, greeted by the quiet of his dark apartment. The dim nightlight seeped through cracks in the curtains, casting faint shadows across the floor. As he shuffled down the corridor into the living room, his fingers worked at his necktie, before loosening the first two buttons of his shirt. Collapsing onto the leather sofa, he leaned his head back and stared up at the white ceiling, starkly bright against the dark surroundings.

He couldn’t recall the last time he had been here. Perhaps the night Y/N had shown up, or maybe a few days ago when he spent hours researching Park Hyunmin’s preferences. Despite his exhaustion, his mind continued to race.

   “Forty Billion Dollar Project.” He repeated in a low tone, sitting up and crossing his fingers over the tip of his nose. With his elbows on his knees, he mulled over Y/N’s revelation of the so-called “Rose Gardens”, even the name held a certain alluring charm.

He slightly squints, tilting his head just a bit as if he suddenly realized something. And just like that, he’s off the sofa, swiftly moving into the home-study. He sits down at the desk, fingers quickly tapping on the keyboard, the dark room brightening from the glow of the computer screen. His eyes scan the information on the monitor, fingers scrolling through pages of data.

Lee Minho was the family dog. No, he was a hound. One that got to the bottom of anything that piqued his curiosity.

His father slams the file of new information on the desk, and Minho stands on the opposite end, absorbing the weight of the discovery. The reveal of the Rose Gardens project was significant, though not in his favor. No wonder his brother refused to tell him.

   “How could he do this? Even if we are always butting heads, how can he just make profits on his own using the Lee name?” His father is bewildered, his face flushed with anger, a sight Minho secretly relishes.

   “The Parks purchased thousands of acres of land just off the coast back in July. They’re planning their largest project yet. And according to my research, the industrial material contract with its commissions were offered to Uncle.”

   “Forty billion dollars.” His father mutters to himself, the enormity of the sum sinking in. A sum his brother was so close to enjoying on his own.

   “That bastard.”

But then he glances at Minho and then laughs.

   “But that fool Jae ruined everything. His father beat him to a pulp the last I saw him. Ha! I wonder where he decided to hide this time, after causing such a mess.”

He stands up and walks towards Minho, placing a hand on the younger man’s shoulder.

   “Let’s just wait for the news of the engagement breaking to be announced, then we can see what our next move should be.”

The older man turns on the television, walking back over to his seat where his tea had been cooling. But he freezes after hearing the reporter.

Lee Jae, Grandson of renowned business man and founder of L Corporation, found dead in his private yacht. Details are still unclear as investigators have yet to release official information.

Jae’s uncle looks at the television screen in shock, eyes trailing to Minho, who also stood frozen, gaze fixed on the screen.

The study door burst open, his wife rushing in through the doors.

   “Honey! Jae is dead!.”

Minho tears his gaze from the screen then to his father and shocked mother. His father stares right at him, trying to find the right words. His voice drops into a low tone, wide eyes peering into his youngest son’s eyes.

   “Did you kill him?’ ─────────────────────── Reporters flocked like birds, surrounding the Lee Residence with their large cameras, shouting for attention as family members emerged from the gate and hurried into black cars. The security team at the main house worked to hold them back.

The funeral procession began promptly after Jae’s body was released from the post-mortem procedure. The investigators were paid off almost immediately, the case hastily closing after coming to one simple conclusion.

An accidental drug overdose.

The poor bastard went around denying he had any involvement with drugs. He went around telling everyone he attacked that escort because he was drunk. But he had been found with needles in his arm.

Minho stepped into the packed funeral hall, his eyes scanning the faces of those gathered, many of whom had congratulated Jae on his engagement just days earlier. Some faces displayed feigned tears, offering hugs to his uncle. Garlands and flowers lined rows outside the main room where mourners gathered, offering condolences to his grieving mother and siblings.

Whispers swirled around him, growing louder as all eyes turned towards the entrance behind him. His gaze followed instinctively. The Parks entered, dressed in somber black like the rest. Y/N, positioned in the center, approached Minho with the head of her family beside her. Her father placed a sympathetic hand on Minho’s shoulder before moving past to pay his respects to the deceased. As if not only a week ago he was ready to strangle Jae himself. Young women from various families rushed to Y/N’s. She keeps her head down and walks right past him. She was playing the role of a grieving fiancée, mourning his death. Before the news of their engagement breaking was made public, that poor bastard shot himself up with an insane amount of drugs. The sound of his aunt’s mournful cries echoed through the hall, signaling Minho to enter and feign grief. But his eyes studied the room.

The room is full of potential suspects.

The timing just wasn't right. Why did Jae have to die now out of all times? Although he was on the fence about that conclusion, since the reports claimed overdose.

Minho’s eyes darted to his torn aunt, and cousins by her side.

They weren’t capable of killing someone and making it seem as if Jae had done it to himself. They weren’t conniving enough.

His uncle? That man would sell his own son, so why not kill him as well? He was also one of the only people who knew where Jae was hiding away.

The CCTV footage on the yacht was compromised by the time Minho had gotten his hands on it. He had paid the investigators off before they could try and bring its contents back. And the chip in Jae’s car dash cam was missing.

None of it was his doing.

As for his own father, Minho quickly dismissed him as a suspect. The man appeared genuinely bewildered upon hearing the news of Jae’s death. He lacked the foresight and technical acumen to even tamper with the dash cam.

Jihoon was only a few months older than Jae, but he had no interest in getting along with the druggie. Joohyeon was in his own world, probably still thinking of ways to find out what the secret deals between the families were. God, has no one told him that they’ve found out already?

The chairman stood tall, his hands resting firmly on his cane, his gaze fixed on the incense burning before Jae’s picture on the altar. His presence was imposing, exuding a sense of authority that commanded respect and fear alike. Minho knew this man well enough to understand that he was capable of orchestrating Jae’s demise if it suited his purposes. But was Jae enough of a threat for the chairman to get rid of him?

Minho’s eyes locked onto Y/N and her parents as they stepped up to the altar. His mind raced with suspicions.

Could it have been Y/N? She had appeared terrified when he attacked her, yet she had managed to defend herself, even knocking him unconscious. He remembered how shaken she had been, collapsing into in his arms after the altercation. Could she be capable of murder?

Secretary Cha’s hand on his shoulder broke his reverie, pulling him back to the present. The weight of his grandfather’s scrutiny hung heavy in the air, reminding Minho that the chairman was always observing. ─────────────────────── Minho stood stoically, watching his grandfather who was seated in his favorite spot, the private room of his cherished restaurant. The elder man methodically cut into his steak, the clink of cutlery against porcelain echoing softly in the intimate space.

For the second time he was questioned.

   “Did you do it?”

What did they think? He goes around killing people that tick him off even a little? Then they’d all be dead.

   “I did not.” He responded calmly.

His grandfather nods, before sighing.

   “I told him to lay low for a while and not create a mess. He created a bigger mess and laid down forever. Hope he rests well, that one.” His grandfather mutters, taking a sip of his drink.

   “Did you look into it? Don’t always trust what the investigators say.”

   “The CCTV camera was damaged. I’ve sent it to a trusted technician to see if he could bring back the data.”

The grandfather nods.

   “Jae’s car was parked a few feet away from the pier, but it was angled in such a way, the dashcam should have definitely caught something. But the chip is missing. And I’m sure it wasn’t the police.”

Chairman Lee’s knife and fork halted against his food, his gaze lifting to his grandson who always seemed one step ahead.

   “Check every single dashcam in the vehicles parked in the main house. The person who wanted to get rid of evidence knew where Jae was hiding.”

It had to be someone from the family. Of course it did, how else would you explain the damaged yatch footage, unless Jae himself tried to destroy it.

Minho nods, and takes his leave, immediately getting to his new task. He hated the look in the eyes of these people. The way they looked at him with suspicion, even though he’s the first one they’d run to when they needed someone gone. Jae was of no importance to him. Sure, he briefly entertained the idea after Y/N showed up bruised and bloody at his doorstep, but killing Jae would only create a mess he didn’t want to be in. But somehow he always ended up in messes.

The grandfather watched intently as the door closed behind Minho. A few tense minutes passed before his secretary entered, holding out a cell phone with a paused video on the screen.

   “Are you sure you can see that person from this?” Chairman Lee asked sharply.

   “Yes sir.” Secretary Cha affirmed confidently.

   “The dashcam footage spans from days before the engagement party up to Jae’s arrival on the yacht. The only and last individual that enters and exits the yacht besides Lee Jae is captured on this video.”

With a nod from the Chairman, Secretary Cha played the footage on the phone. They observed quietly as the scene unfolded, revealing crucial moments leading up to and after the fateful event.

   “Ah. There’s our little snake.” Chairman Lee muttered, a glint of annoyance flickering in his eyes.

Minho’s foresight in the parked car has proven to be accurate, capturing everything. Minho was always one step ahead. But Chairman Lee was cunning and calculated, five steps ahead.

   “This is a twist in the story, isn’t it Secretary Cha?” ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ to be continued.

[six-eyed-samurai]

I saw your requests were open so I was wondering if you could do a Gyutaro fic? If you’re going to make it heart wrenching angst then PLEASE have like teeny tiny bit of comfort or something otherwise my heart cannot take ittt

SUMMARY: Trust fall: in which you slip and let go on purpose, hoping - no, knowing - that someone will catch you in the end. A/N: It was 3am and I was delirious and thinking about that one demon from Judge from Hell that died to protect his girlfriend from Venato and you can see what spawned from there - but as requested the ending is...uh... better WARNINGS: suicide, Gyutaro's usual self harm

Daki had warned him, hadn't she? Stay away from that human or it'll be bad for the both of them - three of them, including her.

But it was kind of like trying to separate two magnets with opposite poles: they kept inching back together until one of them enters the field and they’re practically glued together. Gyutaro couldn’t stay away if he tried (not very hard), using any excuse however pathetic and unbelievable to even just walk past the door and see the shadowy figure behind moving about. Stolen trinkets he claims Daki no longer wants placed on the windowsill, leaving his sister’s body to take a walk on the roofs as the Red Light District burst into color during the night, when it was no one but Gyutaro and-

“Oof - ! It’ll be so much easier to walk up the stairs if I could open my eyes, you know.”

“Walk more slowly then!”

Speaking of a walk…is this how it’s going to end? He’s lied, but only to Daki, himself and maybe denied everything in the face of Kibutsuji-sama’s wrath. He’s a demon who deals in poison, but the ones pouring out of Gyutaro’s mouth tastes worse than anything, bitter and stinging and if he could, he’d take it all back, let go of the hand he was holding, force the one he was leading to turn around and run, run, run far far away. Both from here and from him.

Because Daki was right all along. He should’ve nipped it right at the bud, eaten the human like any good, loyal demon would and Gyutaro wouldn’t be sullenly watching these events fold with something akin to…emotion? Negative human emotions?…rising up within him.

“Can you at least tell me where we’re going?”

“You already know.”

“Up to the roof, then? What’s got you so secretive about it then?”

“It’s a surprise.”

Maybe he should be nicer, Gyutaro reflected in the only part of his mind that isn’t torn between fear of Kibutsuji-sama and regretful tension of what he’s doing. Yeah, he should be nicer, seeing as it was his last chance to do so. He pulls at the hand faster instead.

Nice. That was a word completely foreign in Gyutaro's dictionary. He'd just planned on toying with the gullible human, play around and push around until it broke and paid for the crime of being fortunate and beautiful. It must already have been broken, because what other human would eagerly await his presence every night, thread fingers into his tangled hair and comb it out, force a festival mask on him in order to blend in with the crowds during walks? Gyutaro despised the Red Light District, even though as both a human and a demon he called that place home; but around his plaything - human - love - something he could take pleasure in the parades, vibrant lights and lively night.

He must be broken too, because what other demon would chase and fall for their prey?

Nice. Gyutaro really has let himself go. Forgotten what he is and forgotten what he owes to Kibutsuji-sama.

Unintentionally his nail digs a little too deep, deep enough to draw blood.

“What's so special about this roof?”

“Nothing. View's better.”

Better is the word, Gyutaro agreed in his mind. Just not to describe the view. Better height. Better for them both.

Kibutsuji-sama’s voice was still fresh in his head. He knew exactly how to play, how to toy, how to push Gyutaro’s buttons until he was tearing scars all over himself to watch them quickly heal themselves and be reminded of how if he didn’t do as the Demon King said the next time he’s slashed it won’t even be a slayer’s Nichirin blade or the sun’s rays that does it. No, it’ll be Kibutsuji himself who does it, for demons are not supposed to be friends - in love - with humans, degrade themselves to those imperfect insects in the dirt. And Gyutaro has just done that, whatever his vehement denials.

It all amounts to nothing in the end. Not nothing, exactly, but in the end the choice was between having Daki killed and him punished or kill the human and all will be forgotten; Gyutaro can’t actually even be sure Kibutsuji will keep that promise of letting the human be. Is it a selfish choice? Probably, but a choice where at least two people are still alive albeit miserable and the third can…can…can do it in a way that won’t leave Gyutaro a raging mess. Do it on their own terms. So, well, nothing.

(Better if neither of them had met in the first place.)

“Why are you being so secretive? That’s no fun, come on, tell me!”

“Nehh, stop nagging, it won’t be a surprise otherwise. Go ahead and turn back if you don’t want it!”

“Oh shut up, you know I do, as long as it’s you.”

“Shut up.”

“Heh, you’re blushing, I can tell!”

Would the truth, or some vague suspicion, inkling of it, not make an appearance soon? Please turn around, please run away, and I won’t follow and I’ll make my excuses and everything will be - just turn around, run away -

There were plenty of other opportunities to run, and Gyutaro would’ve given up a lot of things for it to have happened. If the other would not run, fine, he would run, run far far away from everything that led up to this moment of him coaxing and pulling that hand up the stairs and past everything, beyond anyone who could hear or see or understand.

The stupid human should’ve run from all the nights they spent together, run before he even showed up. But Gyutaro was the one who should’ve run away that night - the first night they’d met.

He’d been out hunting, searching for a good, pretty meal as usual. Beloved Daki had been too picky and greedy and now it was going to take them a while before their house had more beautiful humans to devour. Hungry, he’d stolen off with someone and was finishing up the last of them when damn, had a stupid, scrawny cat really started everything?

The animal had just run into the alley he had squatting and using the shadows to blanket himself with, yowling like it had a dog on its heels, but maybe that was just because it had a stolen treat in its mouth. He should’ve killed the cat right there, to keep it quiet, because the next thing he knew a human had appeared, out of breath and the chaser.

“Oh…is the cat yours?”

He was too stunned to reply, honestly. Gyutaro was ugly. Gyutaro was a demon. Gyutaro had just eaten a human. Usually that was enough to deter anyone.

“My bad, have a good night!”

And after that he should’ve run away instead of stalking and watching and tracking and leaving gifts by the window just because he became a little obsessed over the smallest interaction with someone who did not first notice his looks.

“Okay, at least tell me what's so special about tonight then?”

“We're celebrating.”

Or he’ll be celebrating, alone, for decades and decades to come because demons are immortal and fixable but humans, weak, ugly things, were not. The one he was leading now, trusting blind lamb following the big bad wolf, was anything but weak and ugly if only in unconventional ways, so Gyutaro wondered if they were - could - be different.

Maybe he could make them a demon? Too late, Kibutsuji-sama would still have his head for that; throwing away his precious gift of blood for love, of all insane and worthless things. And it was for the same reason Gyutaro never did it before: change. He was terrified of a potential monster who could only think of its stomach, a bloodthirsty shadow of- damn, he really was going soft, humane. If he were Kibutsuji-sama he would’ve killed him on the spot, so he supposed he should thank whoever was listening for this small mercy.

Humans are so, so delicate. Why would anyone willingly choose to be one? Why was he so besotted over this one, the one trailing after him, excited at imaginative fantasies and expectations for yet another night together, uncomprehending of the truth. A part of Gyutaro wondered how his more unforgivable crimes during his time as a demon weighed less than this act of humanity on his mind?

Humans are weak, ugly things but the one he was leading now was anything but, so Gyutaro wondered if they could be different.

But a human, no matter how beautiful or amazing or strong or everything could survive falling off the roof.

“You can open your eyes now.”

The moon, the sun, the lights of the Red Light District all dim when those eyes open, but for once they darkened enough to rival instead of dominate. “It’s a…nice view, but it’s nothing we haven’t seen before.”

“This roof is taller.”

“Yeah, I know, but what -” The measurement from here to the ground finally clicks. His secretive behavior, his sudden affectionate nature, his irritation when asked, it clicks. The way he had carefully guided the hapless lamp to the very edge, where he wasn’t even holding out an arm for support. “Gyutaro. Look at me.”

“I didn’t ask for this,” he replied roughly, scratchily instead. “It was either you or me.”

Gyutaro likes to make himself sound more selfish than he actually is, doesn’t he? Because me here means me, Daki and you, doesn’t it?

“…Was this always your plan…then?”

“No!” Gyutaro backed away. “It’s punishment - ‘m a demon, you’re - you get it? It wasn’t supposed to happen so I gotta end it. I should’ve just eaten or poisoned or killed you that night.”

“But you didn’t.”

Tense shoulders relax. Gyutaro hardly dared to - he didn’t know what to think. This was more than he could comprehend, more than he could take, demon instincts and attachment warring against one another. He took it out on his face.

“It’s that demon, isn’t it?”

“Maybe. Don’t make this harder.” Gyutaro’s never brought out his sickles before, until now, but he’s holding it up more like a shield than a weapon meant to kill. “This was better. He would’ve done worse to you. You can do it yourself - I’ll be here, I can do it for you - just do it -”

“Why here?” He’s thankful that forgiving (why can’t it be accusing? It’ll be so much easier, so, so easier) gaze has wandered over the ledge and not at him.

“Because everyone else got thrown off as well. It’ll be - it’ll be if you didn’t.”

Also because this was the roof when two broken things watched the sky break from fireworks and lights and laughter below as well.

“Okay.”

It’s too quiet for him. “SAY SOMETHING!”

Gyutaro doesn’t think he deserves that understanding, forlorn smile. “I’ll do it then. If you’ll hold my hand halfway.”

He’s got nothing to say to that so he does it anyway. The human looks like it does (it’s eight letters, starts with I and ends with U, but none of them can say it because everything is-).

“We’ll see each other again, somehow.”

At least no one’s there to witness that one traitorous droplet leaking out of Gyutaro’s yellow, bloodshot eye when the hand slips and - and -

In the midst of the screaming at another body found on the ground Gyutaro retreats and returns to the back of Daki’s mind.

Somehow.

***

“WATCH OUT!”

The kid with the too-big raincoat and scowl on his face barely heard the warning in time before he’s stumbling back and falling on his butt into a puddle. The instigator’s a speeding calico cat with a bell jangling around its neck, so he vents his rage at the rapidly approaching owner instead. “Your stupid cat knocked me over!”

A giggle is the last thing he expects. “Sorry! He’s new and we just brought him home, so I guess Chachamaru is excited.”

“My shoes are full of water,” He tries to complain.

“Oops -” The cat’s scooped up, meowing, and the kid squints at it indignantly. “Sorry again. Do you wanna come in and dry them off then? My mom made dorayaki!”

“That’s not going to make you my friend or anything!” But the boy sulkily tromps after anyways. “…can I bring some back for my sister?”

“Sure!” How bright can that smile possibly be? “What’s her name and what’s yours?”

“…Ume-chan.” He hunched his shoulders, averting his eyes. “’m Gyutaro.”

[cozywriter]

🥮 ~ The BVZ Boys and Who’s Most Likely to Get Possessed by Kravitas ~ 🥮

🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮

MANAGER’S NOTE : So… Guess who finally, but temporarily, curbed their procrastination so that she could write this down? 😅

MANAGER’S EDIT : Holy crud, I’ve left this to rot in my drafts since October 12 or something…

I decided to make this after asking Mr. GBA if Kravitas could possess any of the boys, but since he — Kravitas — only could if they believed it to be so, then this is more of a ‘who’s the most gullible in the group’

DISCLAIMER : Everything from here is just my opinion and not to be taken as canon, so take this with a grain of salt!

🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮

5.) Albus - Immediately instigates a fight

🗡️ ~ Oh hell no, he ain’t falling for this shit twice.

🗡️ ~ *Screams in Albus York Battle Cry*

🗡️ ~ He’ll immediately rush forth and kinda just let his sword do the talking ahem with a side of trash talk as well .

🗡️ ~ Honestly, after the little fiasco with Devlin and Faith, he sure as hell won’t let Kravitas get in so much as a few phrases out.

🗡️ ~ Then again, after everything he’s done, I’m pretty sure Albus wouldn’t even hesitate and just go for the kill before he can do any lasting damage to the others.

🗡️ ~ He’s worried about them falling for his tactics, sure, but he trusts them all enough to at least be skeptical.

🗡️ ~ And by everyone, he means he trusts Attila to look out for Mahatma.

🗡️ ~ All in all, he’s seen what Kravitas can do, and he sure as hell won’t let him get in his head again

🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮

4.) Attila - Not even buying it

💉 ~ I mean really, did you honestly think he was going to be that gullible? Mahatma, maybe. But Attila? Oh boy…

💉 ~ “What the— why the fuck would I buy into your piss poor, shitty, half assed— [redacted for profane speech]”

💉 ~ You get the point…

💉 ~ Honestly, with Attila’s level of insults, Kravitas would either a.) get bored and leave, or b.) get a kick from his unusual insults. Either way, Attila’ll live

💉 ~ The only scenario in which I do see him getting possessed is if he allows Kravitas out of his own volition

💉 ~ Whether out of curiosity — let’s face it, under the right circumstances he would — or for Mahatma’s greater good

💉 ~ Other than that, Kravitas is better off finding a different host to fuck with

🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮

3.) Hipswitch - Doesn’t stick around to find out

🦾 ~ My guy is following ‘Albus Rules’ if he — unfortunately — ever deals with Kravitas in the near future

🦾 ~ Rule No. 1 being ‘don’t fuck with him unless he fucks with you’

🦾 ~ Depending on the situation, I see Hipswitch doing one out of two things. One being he encounters Kravitas alone, in which he’d strike up some conversation, see where it heads, watch out for some red flags and try to excuse himself from the interaction and promptly leaving before shit hits the fan

🦾 ~ But seeing how Kravitas is an annoying little fuck, it’d take more than words to convince him to let our dear Obscuran leave.

🦾 ~ When push comes to shove, he will use violence, but not excessively.

🦾 ~ This man has seen what Albus is capable of, he isn’t risking his safety or the others around him just to get past Kravitas

🦾 ~ The second — and more likely — scenario being that Hipswitch encounters him with Albus, in which there’d be some explaining to do on Mister York’s side of things.

🦾 ~ But when — yes, not if, when — Albus gets pissed off and Hipswitch sees their banter isn’t so ‘don’t come near me, I’ll fuck you up’ and more ‘alright, I’ll fuck you up’, he’ll let the bullets fly.

🦾 ~ In conclusion, Hipswitch wouldn’t stick around and find out what kind of fucked up powers that he can use against him

🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮

2.) Karmor - Didn’t even know he couldn’t posses him

📓 ~ He didn’t even know he couldn’t do that like what—

📓 ~ Maybe he should ask Albus to debunk some facts next time…

📓 ~ “Maybe a little warning next time, Albus?” he’d sign annoyingly, sending a glare the demon’s way

📓 ~ Meanwhile, Albus: (･_･;

📓 ~ But then again, after seeing what Albus can do, and seeing Kravitas looks more demonic, he too, would not like to find out the extent of his powers.

📓 ~ In summary, he’s still uneasy about having to encounter Kravitas without knowing every card in his deck. But knowing Albus, he trusts him enough to tell him when the time is right.

🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮

1.) Mahatma - Poor baby immediately falls for it

📋 ~ Honestly, there isn’t much to say for Mahatma…

📋 ~ Poor baby would immediately get possessed if not for Attila

📋 ~ “B-But, we can’t just go, he’ll posses us!” “You— if he can possess us, don’t you think he would’ve done so, you idiot!?”

📋 ~ Yep, that’s pretty much how it’d go down for me

🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮🧋🥮

Back to Grand Menu

[regulus-books]

wc: 887

warnings: alleged infidelity kinda, drunk James, sober regulus, angst, kinda happy ending

"We should get going now!" James yells from the other room, he's looping his earrings through his lobes.

"Have fun, I'm gonna stay." Regulus says, simply, turning another page in his book.

"Okay." James let's out a huff. He's been like this all fucking week. Regulus thought, maybe, he had a bad day. Or maybe, he had spilled water on his guitar (he's done it in the past, that set him in a pretty shitty mood). But the bad day turned into six more.

"What's wrong?" Regulus puts his thumb in between two pages and rests it in his lap.

"You're not coming with me? I thought you were looking forward to seeing Sirius." James' hand flies up and smacks back down on his thigh.

"I was, I just don't feel very good right now, besides I can see Sirius any day of the week. I'll wait up for you, just go. Don't worry about me."

"You never feel good," James hisses, Regulus' mother used to say the same thing. "You don't ever worry about me so you're right, I guess I shouldn't." James walks out of the bedroom, Regulus' eyebrows tilt down, confusion plastered on his face.

"What was that?" He scoots off the bed, placing his book face down.

"Hm? Oh you mean me." James fake laughs and Regulus looks around the kitchen, his arms crossed on his chest.

"Obviously I mean you, James. Who else is in the room with us, the Pope?" James rolls his eyes.

"No, just your dirty flings, it's no big deal." James walks to the fridge grabbing out four sandwiches that Regulus prepared for the boys, making sure there's no one hungover tomorrow.

"Excuse me?"

"You know. When I'm not here. Those other guys, tall, brunette, tan. Almost looks like me don't you think?"

"No, I do not think he looks like you. He's much taller." Regulus almost laughs when James' jaw drops.

"So you're just going to admit to it. You are cheating on me?"

"No, not cheating on you."

"You don't love me." Regulus' eyebrows shoot up on his face, his grey eyes becoming glassy at the words.

"Don't love you, James? Dieu, how stupid are you? If I did not love you then why would I keep you around? If you think I do not love you why do you stay?"

"I don't know who I am without you."

"Go have fun." Regulus puts a hand on his forehead, trying to regulate his breathing.

"‘Go have fun?’ God, I was right," James stalks towards the door, but before slamming it he says, "throw the sheets in the wash at least after, would you?" Stupid boy. Stupid, stupid, stupid, gullible boy.

Regulus feels like he's going to pass out. He leans against the counter, huffing. Tear drops exit from his eyes.

He can't even think about cheating on James. You'd think after years of being friends, James would notice that Remus was himself. Coming over to help Regulus study, for God's sake.

The hours pass by slowly. Painfully slow. Regulus wants to call Sirius, he wants him here. He can't be here he's with James, he's making sure that James gets home to him tonight. So he waits.

When he hears the front door handle jiggle six or seven times he knows it's his James. When James gets drunk he doesn't remember how a key works. Regulus doesn't want to see James yet. He knows when he sees those brown eyes he'll melt and forgive him. He knows that he'll forget about James thinking he's cheating, he'll just want a hug.

The fridge opens, a cap undone and thrown in the trash. James guzzles down  cold water from the fridge. Then he stumbled down the hallway to their bedroom. Regulus twists away from the doorway, his body facing the opposite wall.

"You're on my side." James taps Regulus' ribs, then moves his hand up and down. Regulus can feel blood pulsing through his veins, his heart getting squeezed for every word James says.

"There are no sides. This is simply a side of the bed we share." Regulus tries and fails to keep his voice steady.

James barks a laugh, then picks up Regulus, moving him to 'his side'.

"Are you mad at me?" James rests his head far too close to Regulus' face, he can smell the AMF on his breath.

"God, how many of those did you drink?" Regulus places the back of his finger on his nostrils.

"2 or 6. Between there."

"James."

"I like to say it! Some pretty girl asked me 'what are you drinking', Sirius tells me I danced in circles singing, Adios Motherfucker!" James laughs and Regulus closes his eyes, hoping to drift off to sleep to the sweet sound.

"Regulus..." James interrupts the silence in their room.

"What?" Regulus wants to scream in his face, he wants to sleep off this day.

"I know I had drinks, and I know sober me would be angry at me for saying this. But I love you, and I'm sorry." Regulus' breath hitches in his throat.

"You already know how I feel about you. Go to sleep."

"Say it," Regulus remains quiet. "Please, say it, baby." How could he resist James? Sweet, drunk, emotional James.

"I love you."

[mdhwrites]

you've said the collector isn't a kid bc he's been alive for thousands of years, but isn't he still mentally (and physically for that matter) a kid though? or at least that's how i think the show wanted us to perceive him as

(though the show never makes it clear if the collector's species just age much more slowly than others, or if being trapped for so long caused this specific collector to never age during that time)

for the record i do 100% agree abt the collector being a monster, so i'm not trying to argue with you on that/excuse the collector's actions just bc """""he's a kid"""""

So... This is one of those things that can't really be proven or disproven. On the one hand, you have the fact that you do not need to be mentally a child to be childish. Also, you can also be a child physically but have had to grow up quickly so you have the worldview of an adult. Not only that but we don't know how his people age. He was apparently old enough to work with his brothers (he knew their guidebook on genocide) but... Apparently a couple thousand years hasn't changed him whatsoever.

The thing that stops me most from claiming he is a child... Is the Draining Spell. In fact, even more than his lines about playing in bones, how Belos likes to torture the Grimmwalkers, destroy them, etc. like that that proves he knows what death is and is kind of extremely evil with how much glee he takes of all of this, just the fact that he KNOWS the draining spell at all is not a good sign.

That is not a spell a kid learns. That is not a spell a kid is taught. MAYBE some very evil or naive kids might accidentally read it but to be able to regurgitate after having been away from such books for literally thousands of years? Let alone to be able to even theorize with someone else on how to do it on a race of people that didn't exist before you were imprisoned. That means you mastered that fucker. You are the draining king! You sapped the magic out of people for FUN. That is how much you like this spell.

Also, if we want to claim he's just a dumb kid who doesn't like death or hurting people, doesn't like mass genocide like his brothers did... What the fuck was the conversation with Belos? What was ANY of them?

"I wish for a spell that can kill all witches upon this land. To make them extinct."

"Oh, you just mean make them sleepy, right?"

"...What?"

Belos is not exactly a subtle person at the height of his ability, let alone as Philip who BARELY is even okay at his job. He used mercenaries and two people who obviously were ready to believe anything he said. MASTER MANIPULATOR! So how is it that the Collector's childish views made him okay with this? It's not like the witches imprisoned him? Hell, he was willing to work with the Titan Trappers who VERY explicitly wanted to murder Titans for him but he just calls them weird. Like... Collector, you had literally NOTHING else to do than talk to these two people. Did you literally never listen to ANYTHING they said?

It doesn't make the Collector come off as a child. It just makes it so S2 Collector is literally a different character. The two are entirely incompatible. Even if they acted the same, the knowledge base and morality of the two Collectors is too severe for them to co-exist.

BUT. Like I said: I can't firmly prove that the Collector does not have a child's mind because while S2 Collector absolutely is just childish and gullible, he is not naive nor is he a child, except in physical appearance. S3 Collector though? That's a lot harder of a sell. He literally just wants to have fun and friends and is too self centered to care about if other people are having fun too. His fun prioritizes everything. That... Honestly still isn't actually a kid's point of view. Kids aren't inherently monsters. They do feel bad for their actions, even if they want to be justified in having fun. Admittedly, the Collector does EVENTUALLY do this as well so it's still kind of there but really awkwardly when put beside even everything else in S3.

After all, he presents King with the same book that has his brother's instructions to kill everything. A kid would not pull that out. They wouldn't risk for a SECOND that being seen. At least... Not a ten year old like this. Not unless we want to say that the Collector is a literal toddler, which is not the vibe TOH is going for. No, he's old enough to know what he's doing is wrong, just not old enough to actually do something about it I GUESS.

You're not supposed to think about it, like most elements in the show. Just like how you aren't supposed to think about how Amity bullied Willow for YEARS. Or how Hunter has probably killed wild witches in the past. There are inherent, core parts of these characters that you're just supposed to ignore so that they can be redeemed and given hugs because they never actually did anything wrong. So the show can tell you they're good people, rather than addressing and showing how they've stopped being bad people.

So yeah, we can argue about if The Collector is or isn't meant to be a child. It doesn't really matter at the end of the day, especially when good luck being actually able to say one way or another. I still won't claim it. I will just claim that he is a monster before he is ANYTHING else.

And I think that's way more important.

======+++++======

It is fun how TOH takes a shot at redeeming the gems in SU and how the fandom rallies around killing the villain being TOH's final subversion when the Collector is RIGHT THERE. You know what also redeemed one character who then went into personally decided exile while also killing the big bad but did it way better? Amphibia with Andrias and the Core. *sigh* Just a side tangent from my Discord recently I wanted to share.

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

[animation-is-my-jam]

Whos the most underrated villain in wordgirl amd why is it Granny May?

Hehe ＼(ﾟ∀ﾟ)／

As the resident Granny May defender, I shall say why. But first, I will admit to why some don't like her or her episodes. If you don't like, "Everyone turns on protagonist because of one individual obviously lying" or "Antagonist getting away with scamming but in a super obvious way" plot lines then yeah I don't fault anyone for not liking Grandolyn. Since those kinds of stories can easily get under people's skin, especially when you experienced something similar to Wordgirl in these. And out of the villain's Granny is like the most mentally ruthless next to probably Miss Power jgjfbjvjg, so I can see why some don't jell with her, BUT HEY, if people can accept Miss Power bullying a ten-year-old then they can accept Granny doing it everyday with back breaking affect/lh

Granny is funny too,,,I don't know if it's because I like old mean characters (not in real life, fuck that), or because of Cree's performance, but she's funny. Honestly, it's a hustle to constantly fake being a helpless lady and also take on a superhero. Like I respect her, idk why, but I do. Sure, she gaslights and unfairly tries to cancel a child, but like if I was her age and lived in the world's most gullible city, then yeah, why not.

I think another thing that is fascinating about her (because I do analysis on her) is that she is definitely in the villain game for fun and has probably done it for years. Compared to others who do it for either having notoriety, getting respect, or valuables. Granny does it because she loves the thrill of it. She is technically living a conformable life, and let's not forget she has a whole ass family who are respectable citizens with her mother kind of being loaded, so she has no reason to do it besides it's fun. Though I guess another thing that interests me is her relationship with her family, as we know in her first appearance, she's tried to use her own grandson as a henchman and then not again. We know she has other kids than Eugene's dad, and it makes me wonder what is there relationship to her and, in general, her family. Besides Eugene, who is never seen around Granny May again in the show proper (that's so funny like tf), I don't think it's all good. Granny uses photos and excuses of people looking at her big family as a trick, as if she's close and adores them, but she's crimepilled and probably her more normal family don't approve of her villain status. So either their a strained family and Granny is coping real hard not being the matriarch anymore, or they're okay with it, and Granny May is just known as "Grandma who steals"

Regardless, despite that being a headcanon, it makes her character very fun to dissect. Does Granny really love the fun of being a criminal more than her own family she made? Or does she want to appear like a good granny to her family, but her hobbies have let them in shunning her since she uses them in her schemes and they don't want to be associated in that life.

We know Granny has had a villainous mindset since she was young, I could only imagine for the May kids to have their mom being a thief since she's pretty boastful about it, lucky they live in Fair City where people have a memory of a goldfish.

Another for why I like her, as I mentioned somewhere idk or maybe it was on discord...Eh I can't remember. Anyway, it's because when she's on screen, she helps elevate a very unique Wordgirl/Becky. Like say what you will on Becky's contempent for her villains, I think straight up, she dislikes Granny May. They're so petty with each other, and I think it what makes it so much funnier. Not to mention, they're kinda similar in attitude, at least when it comes to theit drive and stubbornness. Granny May probably sucks as a parental or maternal figure so much that she doesn't even have moments with Wordgirl that could be found family-esc. Or maybe idk they could. Granny May is no different than the average overcritical gaslighting brash grandmother....nevermind she would be the ideal grandmother to Wordgirl. /jjj

Idk I just like Granny May. Most don't get it, and that's fine. More for me to headcanon and write.

[kokitschi]

ok ok i know the 4th chapter is fucked up but. u gotta appreciate the way kokichi set this whole thing up. like, it's kind of beautiful, actually.

one thing kokichi repeats several times during the game is "the process of elimination" and that's exactly how this whole case is build up.

every domino piece has been set up so they could all perfectly fall over in the trial. and kokichis the one who did the pushing nonetheless.

like. look at it like this.

(aight uh so this unintentionally turned into a canon compliant fanfic...? don't ask me how that happened.)

you have made yourself isolated and generally disliked by most of the group for various reasons. you've already been stressing about the situation and then you (most likely) see something that just makes you freak out (the card key motive). so, you've admittedly become a bit erratic. there isn't really anyone to reel you in either.

your almost-ally is very doing worse than you though. she's clearly losing it. it doesn't take long for you to figure out that she's planning to murder you. you wouldn't call eachother friends but this still probably feels like betrayal. or maybe you're just frustrated that despite everything - the remote control, the electro hammers and bombs, the bugvac - everything you've trusted her to build and she still thinks that murder is the better option. okay, fuck you too then.

most of your classmates are stupid or complacent or both. they've mostly stopped thinking for themselves and would rather leave everything to the detective. who, to be fair, isn't incompetent but it has been incredibly frustrating to watch how easily he's swept up in that one idiots empty platitudes. logic alone should get them through these trials - acting on emotions is dangerous. (the irony probably isn't lost on you but you've always been upfront about being a hypocrite. so whatever.)

you want to teach those idiots a lesson. blindly believing in people will get them killed. so, you come up with a plan that could perhaps be compared to a bowline knot - very sturdy but also very easy to unravel.

you've already decided on your main piece - in fact he's been begging, genuinely begging to be used since the beginning but especially lately. so, befitting to your title, you shall make use of him.

(it's his own fault for being so gullible and kind. you've been telling him - everyone but especially him - that he's gonna get himself killed like this. this is a killing game, why won't anyone accept this reality already?? why won't anyone heed his warnings? but most people are unable to seperate the words from the person who's saying them.)

her plan is easy to usurp - in fact it takes care of the important things. the other pieces are set up in a way that would make it impossible for them to commit the crime you are planning. you and your sacrifice are the only pieces left. her intended advantage over you is ironically what will protect you.

things go smoothly. for the most part, anyway.

you might've underestimated just how much the detective dislikes you, is what you think as he doesn't give your proposition even a single thought before he leaves. oh well, you've never been one to easily give up.

you force yourself into the role of his partner. your nerves are definitely strung high at this point but you tell yourself that it's all just part of the game. so you continue to push everyones buttons. you needle and twist the knife wherever possible. (it's just a game. it's just a game. it's just a game.) nobody has any sympathy left for you at this point. it's okay, it's all part of your long term strategy anyway. (perhaps one could argue that you've been dealt awful cards from the beginning but is that really an excuse?)

you lead the trial, you make sure that they're doing things in the right order and that they won't miss a thing. it needs to be uncovered in this way because otherwise they won't listen to the evidence anymore. if they shall act like children, then you shall talk to them as if they are.

the first part of the trial moves along sluggishly but atleast all the facts of the crime are now laid open. all they need to do at this point is to use the process of elimination, really.

the detective looks at you uneasily. time for the fun part! questions and accusations fly around the room, it's about what you expected.

and then the detective lies. he's done this before. everyone believes him over you. that's to be expected. but something inside you cannot forgive this hypocrisy today. so you decide to be cruel and rip off the band aid.

chaos. disbelief. objections!

it could've been so fun. if it wasn't for your unwilling partner in crime to be completely dumbfounded - not because he's been betrayed but.. because he doesn't seem to know what you're talking about? huh? huh?

you thought at first that maybe this was just his last effort to try to get away with it. but he seems so genuine. you can't detect a lie but clearly what he is saying cannot be true. it cannot be. he's got to be lying. which means that you've underestimated him. you've been played. your classmates are clamoring to defend him. he will get away with this. he can't- it wasn't supposed to go that way. they will all vote for you. all because they believe in him hahahhaha no no no no nonononononono

he doesn't remember. ah. that makes sense.

you're still agitated and you feel as if you're about to snap.

you and the detective leave no holes in the explanation. it's a simple process of elimination - you've made sure of that after all.

the despair on your classmates faces is apparent. your sacrifice accepts his fate. you can't handle this. it's all too much. why did you do this? why? why? why? everyones badgering you. the look on his face- his voice- and despite everything he still cared about you. you stupid awful disgusting horrible miserable monster. nobody will ever forgive you for this. you knew that. perhaps you didn't think it would hurt so bad though.

gontas last wish will never come true. the very least you can do is to not let his death go to waste.

so it's double down or nothing.

[tieflingtareon]

My love, are you the devil? (Oh, call me a devil)

Chapter 21 | Words: 5.5k

Summary: Astarion found himself often surprised by his heroic companion. He had one goal. To become the favoured companion of the group, to earn the Tieflings loyalty, to make Tar'eons strength his own. Yet Tar'eon isn't like the usual target of his manipulations. Despite his naivety, he does not seem gullible. There is something very wrong with their 'leader' to begin with. Astarion isn't sure if he wants to control it or eradicate the threat it posed. But can he really do either when Tar'eon himself seems so...unwaveringly kind?

That devil is getting into his head, while others get into Tar'eons. He doesn't appreciate not having the upperhand after years of being at the disadvantage. He will find a way to make him see.

He is the one he should be listening to. Astarion would make it so, no matter the means.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50668558/chapters/127995079

Despite Astarion's insistence on waiting until morning, he was gone before Tar'eon awoke. He wasn't sure what he was expecting.

He dragged himself out of bed, washed himself, and dressed for the coming adventure of the day. Shadowheart had insisted on going back more than once to the temple, so there was no question about whether or not she was coming. Karlach had insisted on coming too, if only to show support for Shadowheart's beliefs. Anything for the woman she loved.

Seeing as Astarion was nowhere to be found, he asked Gale if he wanted to join them, but he looked like he hadn't slept a wink.

"I'm afraid I may have to sit this one out, if you want me in tip top shape for the grand battle with Ketheric." His skin was a ghastly shade, the veins in his neck and his cheek looking a bruised colour.

"I see...If you'd feeling unwell, please, go see Isobel. She's a divine cleric." He insisted, but Gale waved his hand.

"No, no, I'll- I've had worse days. I assure you. It's simply my heart acting up." Tar'eon was about to protest when he heard another voice from behind.

"Karlach said you were looking for an extra hand, I'm geared up and ready to- Hells." Wyll looked at Gale with a pained expression. "You look ghastly."

"Why, thank you. Your horns are looking as lovely as ever, Wyll." Gale drawled and Wyll winced. He deserved that he supposed.

"I was just telling him to visit Isobel, but he won't." Tar'eon sighed.

"I-" Wyll pursed his lips, looking like he was considering his choices before he sighed. "I'll stay behind. I'll make sure he doesn't keel over while you're gone."

"Excuse me, I can take care of myself just fine. I've lived with this heart condition for years!"

"Well, don't go making your years shorter by not taking it easy." Wyll gave him a warning look before stepping around Tar'eon to place a hand on Gale's shoulder. "Go. I'll take care of this one. Worry about finding the relic. I'm sure Lae'zel would gladly join you, if you can find her."

"If I can find her?"

"I saw her walk out last night, and she did not return before I went to bed, which was fairly late. That's all I know. I doubt she'd gotten herself kidnapped or killed. If anyone dared, she would have returned with their head by now." Wyll said with certainty.

"Maybe she's training. She likes to do so at night. She says it's quieter. Easier to focus." Tar'eon frowned thoughtfully. "I'll see if I can find her."

"I hope you do. Come on." Wyll turned to Gale and ushered him up the stairs. "Back to bed with you. You were reading all night, weren't you?"

"Can you blame me? Imagine if I died before finishing one of my tomes? That would be my biggest regret." Gale chuckled wearily, leaning more on Wyll than he probably intended to, but the swordsman had the strength to keep him upright.

Tar'eon watched after them and frowned thoughtfully. He hoped those two worked out what ever was between them...having two pairs of lovers not speaking to each other would cause too much drama in their party. He sighed and went outside to find Lae'zel, and after walking the entire premise, he finally found her in a grouping of bushes far off to the left of the inn.

He was about to say something, considering her state of being half undressed, but anything he had planned to say was stolen when he saw a very large, very familiar figure come out of the bushes too. He stared, not even bothering to hide the fact that he was gaping at the pair as they spoke, Halsin all smiles despite Lae'zels curt words and mannerisms.

Now that he looked closer, she was definitely covered in claw marks. Gods. He had not seen those two coming. Though, if Lae'zel had wanted to sleep with Wyll, he supposed sleeping with Halsin wasn't a large leap to make. The druid certainly looked pleased after their night together.

Tar'eon slowly backed away and jumped when he bumped into someone, familiar icy fingers grasping his waist to steady him.

"Lae'zel of all people...I thought Halsin would prefer somebody less terrifying. Maybe someone more fluffy than scaly."

"I...I suppose." Tar'eon turned to look at Astarion, lips moving wordlessly for a moment. "I...About last night-"

"I've been waiting all morning for you lot to get your things together." He cut him off. "Hurry up. We have a relic to find. I want out of this dreary place before I decide to throw myself to the shadows."

Without giving him a moment to respond, the vampire walked off.

"I...okay." Tar'eon pulled his hair back and pursed his lips.

Find the relic. He would focus on the relic. Then, when they got back...he could finally sit Astarion down and tell him everything. The Urges, the fear, all of it.

Anything he wanted to know, he'd bare it all. His whole soul to the man who had his heart.

****

"Be careful." Tar'eon warned Shadowheart as she took another leap. She had been adamanent about completely the trials of Shar herself after they stumbled upon Lady Shar's spear. This trial was the last one, and Tar'eon stood back, anxious. Shadowheart was intelligent though, using her misty step for the final leap when she realised she would not make it.

She nabbed the last gem and turned back to them.

"I won't be able to make it back across. Meet me back at the Waypoint." Tar'eon nodded and watched her disappear in a flash of purple light.

"You heard the woman." Karlach grinned and smashed her fist to her palm, disappearing with a laugh. Tar'eon glanced at Astarion, who quirked a brow and vanished with a click of his fingers. Tar'eon sighed and followed suit. At the waypoint, Tar'eon did a quick head count.

Karlach was missing.

"Again?" He groaned and vanished to the waypoint outside, nabbing the stroppily walking tiefling before he reappeared with the group. "From now on, Karlach has to buddy with someone if we portal."

Astarion cackled as Karlach flushed.

"I'm not any good magic, alright? I can speak to animals and cast fireball, that's about it." She grumbled. Shadowheart chuckled.

"You're very useful in combat, Karlach."

"You think so?" Karlach smiled shyly, perking up instantly.

"Yes. Very. Come now. This might be my chance." Shadowheart had a shimmer in her eyes, like she couldn't contain her excitement. Finally being of service to her Lady, in her temple. She was more devoted than Tar'eon realised.

Sinking further into the depths of the temple, Tar'eon couldn't help but watch Astarion. He had said little to him since they left the inn. He wished the day would go faster so they could return and finally talk. He hated how quiet it was without Astarion's commentary. It felt wrong. He'd gotten so use to his interjections, his chuckles, the cadence in his voice.

Tar'eon shook his head. He need to focus. Focus on the mission. They had an important job to do. The sooner they killed Ketheric, the sooner the shadow curse would lift. The soon he could kill Cazador. Find Zevlor. Wyll's father. Mol. Get everybody to safety. This mission was a catalyst, a turning point. Whatever they found down here, it would change everything.

So he took a deep breath and put his heart aside. Right now, all he needed was his mind, and his body. It was easier to do then it had been in the beginning of their adventure. Perhaps he was growing detached to the horrors of heroism. Who knew?

As they stepped off the platform, he looked upon the altar and turned to Shadowheart, nodding for her to place the gemstones in their rightful places. They shone as they slipped into their places, and with a rumble, the door opened. He breathed out slowly before inhaling deep and continuing on. The air in the temple felt oppressive if he was honest. He did not feel the comfort Shadowheart felt here. As they continued deeper inside, Tar'eon noticed another sigil and placed his hand to it, the stone flashing a bright purple as it recognised his magic and accepted his passing. He stood back up and came to stand before the pool of water, looking at the statue of Shar with a tilt of his head.

"This must be the last step." Shadowheart spoke with trepidation, but reverence flooding her words as she knelt. "I need to pray. Only by Lady Shar's grace did we even make it this far."

Tar'eon did not kneel with her, but he stayed silent during her prayer out of respect. Karlach stepped forward hesitantly and bowed to the statue, looking unsure. From his knowledge, Karlach did not follow any deities either. Her willingness to accept Shar for Shadowheart's sake was endearing though.

The dark cleric gathered herself back up and stood tall. There was a feeling in the air, the knowledge that once they went forward, there was no going back. Whatever loose ends they had, they had to be forgotten. Tar'eon took another deep breath and waded into the cold water. Though it was a blasphemous thought, he found himself praying for Selune's grace, rather than Shar's, letting the water envelop him.

There was no going back. Once they had the relic, war would be but a long nights rest away.

****

He didn't know when he passed out, it was like a flicker of nothingness before he awoke again, coughing up water despite being bone dry. He looked back at his companions, and found they were all collecting themselves too, Astarion's eyes finally meeting his after so much avoidance. He looked worried for a moment, taking a step forward before they heard the voice above them.

"You did well - better than I would have credited you with. Now hurry along and bear witness to my masterpiece." Balthazar. Dammit, he'd forgotten about him completely. He should have known the man had his own motives, that he'd follow them in. He should have killed him earlier. They couldn't let him get the relic first.

He scrambled to his feet and had to take a moment to steady himself. He felt almost feather light, like the smallest push could send him flying away.

"Quickly. We can't let him beat us to it." Shadowheart said quickly, a scowl on her face as she ran after the man, but they faced a challenge when they reached the edge. Tar'eon looked over the ledge to the rock miles away. There was no way they could make that jump.

"We're stranded!" Karlach was shocked, eyes wide before she gritted her teeth, holding her axe tightly in hand. "I bet I could make it. If only to wipe that smug look off his face."

"This isn't our normal plane. It's the Shadowfell." Shadowheart noted. "I think we could just...go for it."

"Well I won't be volunteering to test that theory." Astarion remarked, looking sceptical of the leap.

"I guess it's times like this I'm supposed to be a leader." Tar'eon sighed and took a few steps back. He sucked in a deep breath.

"What're you doing?" Astarion looked at him in alarm.

"Taking a leap of faith." Tar'eons tail hit the ground like a whip, as if to kick him into gear, and he ran forward, trusting Shadowheart to be correct about the differing of realms physics.

"If he dies, I will kill you and your Goddess!" Astarion snarled at Shadowheart as he fell down, down, feet smashing into rock. It felt almost like he'd been floating. He turned back to the group and ushered them down.

"Threaten Lady Shar again, and feel her wrath." Shadowheart narrowed her eyes at Astarion before following after Tar'eon. Astarion scoffed.

"They're both idiots." He remarked to Karlach who smirked.

"They think we're idiots, you pompous nob." She snorted and jumped, Astarion grumbling before he followed suit. After that, they made quick work of their leaps, each one leaving Astarion feeling a bit sick with nerves if he was honest. Shadowheart continued to recite prayers as they travelled, and he was half tempted to shove her off the path to shut her up. Tar'eons feet finally landed a few meters from Balthazar, his companions following suit, and he was shocked when he looked up to see...a woman? Bound by magic.

"Balthazar. Come to add more bars to my cage?"

Tar'eon didn't need to hear anymore if he was honest. He refused to let an obvious future ally rot in a cage. She hated Balthazar, and likely the Absolutes too. He didn't favour the idea of leaving anyone stuck in a prison. He was pretty sure this was their Nightsong. The one they were supposed to find. Ketheric's weakness.

He'd promised Isobel to find it, find her, and he had. Now, he would fight to free her, and the rest of the shadow lands, Balthazar's army be damned.

He may not be an expert magic user, but he had a few tricks up his sleeve, and he was happy to use all wide range attacks that he could muster up against Balthazar's goons. He thought Balthazar would be harder to beat, but he was just a dead man in a dead mans body. Putting him back in the grave was an easy feat, especially with Karlach's rage and Astarion at his back, Shadowheart to his right blazing through undead fiends with radiant magic.

They'd all sustained some injuries, nicks and cuts, bruises and some swelling, but by the time the hoard was diminished, it was blissfully quiet outside the storm that was the Shadowfell realm.

"Are you alright?" Tar'eon asked quickly to Astarion who had taken an arrow to the thigh, which he had snapped in the heat of the moment to attack back.

"I'm fine." He was panting, grimacing from the pain, but he looked past Tar'eon. "We can deal with it later." He insisted, nodded past him. Tar'eon turned around to face the Nightsong. Who Shadowheart was approaching with a hardened resolve. Shit. Tar'eon had almost forgotten Shadowheart's plans entirely...

"Balthazar has drawn his final rancid breath. A pity it was not my hand that brought it about. Instead, it was you." The Nightsong turned to face Shadowheart head on, contempt in her gaze. "You, who have come to seek the praise of your wicked goddess. You, who have come to drive a dagger through my heart." Her approach was halted by the cage, hands keeping her from straying from it's confines. How lonely it must have been, with only her own company. Tar'eon couldn't imagine survive such a fate. He couldn't imagine still having any hope. The Nightsong didn't seem to have any.

"Not a dagger - a spear. My Lady Shar's spear." There was a conviction in Shadowheart's voice that Tar'eon was not used to. He'd never heard her sound so fanatic yet hollow. This was the not girl he remembered saving from the pod. It was not the girl who adored night orchids and feared wolves above all else. "Her fate is mine to seal. Let me handle this."

This was a Dark Justiciar, a loyal, hollow follower, of Lady Shar, coming to fruition.

"The fate you seal is your own. To be a Dark Justiciar is to turn your heart from everything but loss. You will know no love, no joy - only servitude. Until of course your mistress inevitably discards you." Nightsong stared at Shadowheart, letting her words sink in. "And there is much she does not tell you - a terrible blood price that may extend beyond my own death."

Shadowheart bristled, eyes narrowing at the Nightsong. Tar'eon found himself wordless, unsure what to say to make her see reason. Because she had to see reason. What he do if she didn't? Could he really kill her, in order to save all the lives haunted by the shadows? By Ketheric?

Would he have to? Would she force his hand?

He looked to Nightsong, and he could tell she knew her fate was on a knifes edge. He had to dissuade her, somehow, he had to say something.

"Shadowheart-"

"Shadowheart, don't do this." Karlach stepped forward, eyes wide and fearful. Not for what Shadowheart may do to the Nightsong, but for the woman herself. For what this may do to Shadowheart.

"Please. You can't." To feel no love...no joy...If it was true, Karlach couldn't allow it. She'd been a slave to Zariel for ten, long years. If all Shadowheart would gain from this was a life of servitude - she couldn't let her do it. Not when she wanted Shadowheart to love more than anything. To smile, to laugh - all the good things. She wanted to keep the woman she knew, the woman she loved. She wanted to feel joy with her until the bitter end. To love and be loved until the heat of her engine consumed her completely.

"Don't?" Shadowheart turned to Karlach, shocked by her request. "This is my mistress' will - my life's purpose!" Anger made her voice raw, jagged around the edges. She settled Karlach with a steely gaze. "If I have to step over your corpse to fulfil what Lady Shar asks of me, so be it. Your choice."

Karlach staggered back, the hurt cutting deeper than she thought it would. She stared at Shadowheart in disbelief. Less than an hour ago, she'd been smiling at her, so fond and sweet. Where had she gone?

"I..." Karlach lowered her head. She didn't know to say. "This is wrong...but I can't fight you." She swallowed hard and glared at her. "Do what you must." It wasn't spoken with any kindness or acceptance. Her heart was breaking as it was to watch this.

"Well, well, well. What's that I sense? A spear intended for my heart. Empowered by your goddess, aye - empowered to kill the child of a god!" Nightsongs voice was hoarse as she spoke, and Tar'eon wondered how long it had been since she spoke to another. How much she had screamed in her cage. "Do you know what I am, little assassin? For I know you - a lost child, frightened by wolves in the dark."

"What did you say...?" Shadowhearts voice was nothing but a mere wisp of what it was prior.

"Much has been promised to you, hasn't it? But what has been taken from you? What do you know of your own heart - your own life?" She was getting under his skin. Beneath the cracks of her armour. Karlach could see it. "I sense more in you than you know."

"Whatever you think you know of me won't matter, once I become whom I'm meant to be."

"Don't do it. Don't kill her - she knows something about you. Spare her, and see what she has to say." Karlach pleaded, anything to make Shadowheart see reason.

"This is all I've worked, for all my life!" Shadowheart snapped, turning to the tiefling woman as the spear extended from his hand, glowing faintly. Just one strike would give her everything she'd ever asked for. Would repay her debts to Lady Shar. She would finally have it all. Her dreams would become reality. "Why on earth should I let it all be for nothing?"

"Because I love you!" Karlach's voice cracked, raw with the confession as her hand fell from her chest, trying to convince the cleric to look her in the eye. "And I can't watch you do this to yourself. I can't. It's wrong, and you know it. You're jeopardising everything we've been working for these past few weeks, for a goddess who will take everything you already have! You're risking so many lives...Risking any happiness you could have; no love, no joy? What about the life you could have?" The life we could have, she wanted to say.

She shook her head.

"Sometimes I think the only thing keeping us apart is your devotion to another woman." Karlach managed a strained laugh, but tears sprung up in her amber eyes, slipping down hot cheeks, trying to stifle them.

"Please. Please, don't do this. Don't let Loss consume your life...You don't have be lost anymore. I'll guide you wherever you need. I'm the brightest damn thing out here, in all these shadows. And this old torch isn't dying anytime soon, if I've got a say in it." She knocked against her chest, her iron heart, and smiled at Shadowheart, begging the woman to see reason. To see the heart, as mechanical as it was, that could give her so much more than Shar ever could.

"She's been locked down here for centuries. With nobody. She deserves to be free of her cage. And we're gonna need her, when the time comes to kill Ketheric. We have kill him. You know that, don't you?"

"She's all I've ever known." Shadowheart looked at the spear in her hand, the conflict in her eyes unable to be hidden. "All I've ever trusted. I can't...I can't turn my back on my Lady."

"Hells, I'll be your lady! I am. Know me, trust me, choose me, if you won't choose yourself. Choose to love, to feel joy, with me."

"I told you my dream. You told me you'd support me, that I deserved it, after everything I'd done in the name of Lady Shar." She tried to deflect, tried to keep herself rooted in her conviction. But it was waning. Her faith was crumbling, and it terrified her, to lose the only constant she'd ever had in her life.

"I support your happiness! This will not make you happy, Shadowheart. Working under a cruel hand, it doesn't make anybody happy. Even when you smile and try to push through the worst days, it won't make them better." Her voice broke, speaking from the deepest parts of the hurt that tarnished her soul. "It won't. Please."

Karlach reached her hand out to her, eyes begging her to take it.

"Let your Lady's final loss...be your blind devotion to her."

Shadowheart stared at the woman, looking more frightened that Tar'eon ever remembered her being. She was always so cool and collected...It felt like looking at her as a child again, the fear on her face as wolves closed in. She looked at the spear, holding it in both hands. Then, she closed her eyes, and in that moment, Tar'eon knew she had made her choice.

She gave a yell of defeat as she threw the spear into the chasm below, looking ready to cry as she watched it disappear, lost forever. Any chance of gaining her mistress' favour, of becoming a Dark Justiciar...it was gone. Her goddess would disown her. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, trying to reconcile with her choices. She would not regret. She refused.

A warm hand graced her shoulder, and she turned to look up at Karlach, taking in the expression on her face. She looked...surprised. Like she hadn't expected Shadowheart to choose her. But she had.

She had chosen love, rather than loss.

"Shadow..." Karlach breathed, and she lunged at the woman, grabbing her by the collar of her armour and kissing her hard. She had thought about their night together endlessly, but she never let herself hope. She had been sucked into the delusion that she would gain her mistress' favour and serve her until the end of her time. That there would be no time to give Karlach all she deserved. She hadn't wanted to get her hopes up, not when Karlach was so damn kind.

Karlach wrapped her arms around the cleric and crushed her to her body, heart thrumming and her body growing hotter, but she didn't need to worry about it failing. Not yet.

The kiss broke with a sigh, Shadowhearts pale green eyes meeting fiery amber.

"You're going back to Avernus when this is all over, you hear me?"

"What?" Karlach pulled back with a frown, hurt flashing in her eyes. "I- I told you, I'm not going back-"

"You will." Shadowheart voice held no argument. "You will. And I will come with you. We're going to get your heart back, and you are not going to die on me, you hear me?" Despite her cold tone, her eyes were shiny and wet, her chin threatening to wobble.

"I gave up my everything for you. You promised me your heart." She placed her palm over her chest, the glowing iron heart so hot it burned, but Shadowheart still allowed it to hover. "I swear to you, we will get it back. You will live the life you deserve. And you will live it with me."

Karlach stared down at the cleric in wonder, her own eyes wet. She blinked them away, pulling Shadowheart in and holding her tight. Committing her to memory.

"I...I don't want to die yet. I never did. But I'm still scared. If I go, Zariel will try to take me back. I couldn't live like that again."

"You won't be alone." Shadowheart swore it like an oath. "You will guide me through the shadows, yes, but I will be the sacred flame that burns in your heart - it's ours now. It will never belong to Zariel again."

"Gods, you always know the right thing to say." Karlach laughed wetly, sniffing a little as she pulled back to look at Shadowheart. She loved her with the power of two hearts, and she filled both of them with ease. "I...I'll do it. Okay? If we make it out of this alive...I'll follow you anywhere. Even into the Hells."

Shadowheart smiled, eyes shining as she gently touched her cheek. She turned to the Nightsong, and the heavy truth of her choice weighted on her shoulders.

"Lady Shar will disown me...what will happened to me?"

"Not what will happen - what will you do. Your past is not yet lost. Your future is not yet fixed." Tar'eon watched as the Nightsong knelt before Shadowheart. He looked to Astarion, who looked just as shocked as he was. He quirked a brow.

Did you know Karlach was dying? He wanted to ask. It would be a conversation for later. Why Karlach hadn't told him...He wasn't sure.

"Lay a hand on me in friendship, not-quite-Sharran, and I will fight the battle that had been waiting for me this last century. Then - oh then, we will have much to discuss." Shadowheart hesitated. To lay a hand of friendship onto a child of Selune...it would be the greatest slight against her goddess.

Though...she was no longer her goddess, was she? She was free to live her life as she saw fit. As terrifying of a prospect as that was. She placed a gentle hand to her shoulder, and then, she heard it. The music. The Nightsongs song. They all stepped back as they watched the magic pulsate from the circle that once kept her bound.

"Our Lady of Silver. Hear me! She Who Guides, the Moonmaiden Selune - Mother of the so called Nightsong, the Nightsong is no more!"

Tar'eon had to squint away from the harsh light as it grew brighter and brighter, but despite that, there was a flourishing feeling of peace that came over him. When he looked back to the light, he thought he saw an angel. A real, true, feathery-winged angel.

The Nightsong was a warrior of the heavens. An angel in the flesh.

"I am resplendent." Her voice was like a song, yet firm like a Sergeant. "You have given me a great gift, little warrior. Don't you find it oh-so-curious that you would spurn your Dark Lady? Perhaps you feel a stirring of the truth already." Shadowheart placed her hands on her hips, not wanting the comments on her disobedience so soon.

"But that will come later. There is a battle yet to be fought. You have done what we feared was impossible. You have freed me from a century of sorrow. Your power is great. So too must be your weapon. You must choose what you will wield. And the Moonmaiden will provide. Thus I have said; thus will it be so. Are you ready?"

"Ready for what?" Tar'eon stepped forward, awaiting her command. She held the air of a general, and he couldn't withstand the order to be her soldier.

"To kill Ketheric Thorm." With that, she took off with a grace flap of her wings, and Tar'eon watched her disappear in awe.

"We need to leave. Lady Shar won't stand for us to be here - not after what we did." Shadowheart quickly warned, and Astarion scoffed.

"If Shar is angry, she's being remarkably quiet about it."

"That's what frightens me. She must be angry, yet I don't feel it, or hear it...There's only silence." She sounded lost, hearing nothing at all. "Let's get out of here, please. Whatever's coming, I don't want to be in the heart of the Shadowfell when it finds me. The Nightsong will be headed for Moonrise Towers. We'd better get there, and see what she's unleashed against Ketheric Thorm."

"Good idea." Karlach nodded sharply.

"Oh fun...can we take a nap first? I'm awfully tired. I swear, it's the air here." Astarion tutted before he pointed behind them. "Oh. Portal. That saves us some effort. I don't think we can use the sigils magic down here."

"Come on. If we're lucky, they might hold off battle just one more night so you can get your beauty rest." Tar'eon chuckled and Astarion clicked his tongue as he was ushered towards the portal.

"I'm still mad at you, I'll have you know."

"I promise, I will tell you everything once we get back."

"...Fine. I'm feeling rather generous after that heartfelt display." He gestured to Shadowheart and Karlach behind them before they passed through the portal. Karlach was halfway through herself when Shadowheart gave a bloodcurdling scream of pain, the hold of Karlach's hand slipping away as the portal went black.

"Shadowheart!" Karlach cried and banged on the impenetrable window. Astarion looked at him in alarm and though he wouldn't dare admit it to anyone else, he ran towards the portal to get to their cleric as well, digging his dagger into it futilely in hopes of creating a crack in the magic.

A few agonising moments passed before the portal seemed to come alive again, Shadowhearts body falling through it, as well as a glowing spear, different from Lady Shar's own. She was curled up on the floor, looking like she was in agony as Karlach knelt by her side. They all waited with baited breath before she groaned, sitting up. Her head rested upon Karlach's shoulder, feeling weak.

"I...I thought I was done for. I thought perhaps I might have been dead." She breathed, eyes haunted as she tried to forget. "This...This all feelings like some terrible dream. But it's real, isn't it? I stood before the Nightsong. I heard Lady Shar's words...and I failed her."

"You did the right thing." Karlach assured, squeezing her hand in hers.

"I did worse than fail her. I defied her." She bowed her head in shame. It was hard not to feel it. "I...I tried to leave. But Lady Shar blocked me. Punished me for failing her. I thought I knew the limit of pain that the incurable wound could inflict, but I had no idea." She shook her head, allowing Karlach to hold said wound to her chest.

"It felt like I was suffering the agony of a thousand people, all at once. My blood was boiling, my hair was on fire. I thought I'd claw my own face off with the pain..." Karlach looked heartbroken. Guilty. She had convinced Shadowheart to betray her mistress after all. She never wanted her lover to be punished though. "But then she released me - banished me more like. She said I was an outcast, that all of her children would know me and revile me. I'm alone."

"You're not." Karlach promised. "You will never be alone again. Not on my watch."

"I have to agree with her." Tar'eon smiled ruefully. "I'm afraid you're stuck with us."

"Yes, well...I'd miss you briefly if you died." Astarion offered and Tar'eon elbowed him while Karlach glared. "Alright, alright! You are...my friend." His gracious attempt actually drew a small chuckle from her lips.

"I'm a target now. Anyone who bows to the Dark Lady could turn on me at any moment." She warned.

"Like we can't take a few Shar worshippers." Karlach scoffed. "We've got you, baby." Shadowheart smiled shyly at the pet name and Astarion pretended to stick a finger down his throat and gag to Tar'eon while the lovebirds made eyes. He shoved him gently, rolling his eyes fondly.

"Let's head back to the Inn. I imagine everyone is waiting there. Even if they aren't, I doubt they'll charge into Moonrise without us. We need the rest if we're going up against Ketheric." Tar'eon decided, and Shadowheart looked conflicted, wanting to talk to the Nightsong as soon as possible, but Tar'eon was right. They were all exhausted from travelling through the Shadowfell and besting Balthazar.

Tar'eon took Karlach's hand and then Astarion's, closing his eyes as Shadowheart clung to her lover. In a flash, they were back at the Inn, and relieved to be.

He looked up at the Inn and waved to Jaheira who was leaning against the balcony, Lae'zel beside her, sharpening her blade. Halsin gave a bow of his head at their arrival, a new resolve in that naturally warm gaze.

One last night, he thought to him. Then, Ketheric Thorm will be dead, and the Shadow Lands free once more.

[amostfoolishgold]

"Oi! Foodfucker!"

Lazuli turns around, fully prepared to deny everything*. Instead she breaks out into a grin. The siren in the water has hair the colour of fire coral and eyes like the water itself and a tail that, were Lazuli in the water with him, would match hers pretty exactly†.

"The fuck are you doing here, Osprey?"

He gives her a grin that, to any other audience, would be considered dashing and rakish.

"Well you see I'm looking for my sister. About yea long, looks a lot like you but normally with a tail, fucked off a month ago to hang around with a bunch of humans, maybe you've seen her?"

Lazuli throws a pebble at him and he laughs.

"I'm allowed to have a life! Moving out is healthy you jackass!"

Lazuli may be aiming for anger but she's missing it by a mile.

"Yeah but humans? Really? You know it's not nice to play with your food, right?"

"Ok so first off, I'm not eating any of them, secondly-"

"That's worse, you get how that's worse, right?"

"Secondly, they aren't all human! Look at Neb!"

Lazuli gestures to the owl person standing next to her before abruptly remembering that Neb has been standing there the entire time watching this nonsense happen. Osprey's face does something complicated as he grapples with the simultaneous desire to watch Lazuli make a fool out of herself and to continue poking at her life decisions, but he graciously allows her a moment of silence to figure out what to do about it.

"Right. Neb." Lazuli smiles brilliantly. "Please excuse Osprey, he's not a people person."

Neb cocks their head in a way that Lazuli would find adorable under normal circumstances.

"But he is your brother, yes?"

"Absolutely not."

Neb's head immediately tilts over to the other side.

"You match the description of his sister, do you not?"

"Well yes, but hey! I haven't had a tail the entire time you've known me! Why would I be a siren?"

Lazuli puts every ounce of baffled offense she can muster into it. Neb just stares at her.

"Uh huh."

Lazuli makes a hand gesture that could really mean anything‡.

"Love I've seen your claws. And your teeth. For that matter I've seen you use siren magic. You're not a good liar."

Lazuli may have flushed at the pet name, but that doesn't stop her mustering her best heartbroken look.

"You think I'm bad at lying? How could you saw some thing so mean? And in front of my family too!"

Neb's feathers floof up not quite in Lazuli's favourite way, but it's still adorable.

"It's not a bad thing! You- I- it's not that you're a bad liar! I'm just- invested in observing you, I mean-"

Their explanation★ is cut short by Osprey's laughter, every bit as musical as Lazuli's.

"You realise she just admitted we're siblings, right? You don't need to play nice."

Lazuli turns a sharp look on him as she tugs Neb into a hug.

"Hey! I happen to like them bein nice to me!" She presses a kiss to the side of their head hen sticks her tongue out at her brother. "So nyeh!"

He rolls his eyes and Neb does their level best not to combust.

"Whatever, are you gonna drag me up there or am I gonna have to find some actual beach in order to bother your human friends?"

Lazuli sighs and reluctantly lets go of Neb. She crouches down at the edge of the pier and brandishes a hand towards Osprey.

"Come on then, I won't laugh too much when you fall over."

(*Up to and including having ever heard of sirens, having ever talked to a human, and even being on the faction island right now. The efficacy of such denial would require the recipient to be blind, deaf, totally unaware of their location, and exceedingly gullible

†Give or take a mark here and there

‡Well, most things. It has a certain "What do mean "uh huh" is that agreement because it better be" vibe to it, but that's not exactly a clear message to pick up

★if you can call it that)

---

Neb belongs to the wonderful @solsearchingnights! Hope I captured my beloved owl decently <3

And hey! Introducing Osprey! He's modelled after my irl brother in appearance and he & my brother's names are as related as mine is to Lazuli but that's about where the resemblance ends lmao. He's born from a line I wrote down somewhere about Lazuli's origins and "siren manners being as sharp as their teeth" or something along those lines and my mental decision that Lazuli has a loving pod out there who are baffled by her decisions. One day I will write Lazuli on a normal day on the isles because USUALLY she's delightful and flirty and a touch manipulative but that has not come up in anything I've written her in lmao. She keeps coming out all violent whoops. My fault for writing a character who should be eating humans.

[astrangelady]

“Did something nefarious happen?” He asks and he looks so fucking worried. Stiles hates that he’s made Derek worry.

“No. It was all my fault anyway,” Stiles says, feeling defensive and pathetic. He looks around and spies his shoes and goes to put them on. “Elliot did nothing wrong.”

“He threw your keys into the woods,” Derek says, voice flat and factual.

“Besides that. He was drunk, it was a bad joke,” He clarifies. He knows Derek’s going to think Stiles is just making excuses for Elliot’s behavior. He already hates Elliot. He made that clear to Stiles on Thursday.

“Stiles, you had a panic attack,” Derek says like Stiles had somehow forgotten.

“Because I was drunk and anxious and I freak out for no reason,” Like duh. Derek should know this by now. Derek has seen Stiles have panic attacks before.

“You said he pressured you to drink.”

Again, Derek sounds like he’s stating facts. Maybe Stiles did say that last night, but he was drunk so he was being overdramatic.

“He was trying to get me to relax and have fun. It was a party,” Stiles avoids Derek’s intense gaze and focuses on putting his shoes on and tying his laces.

“Why are you defending him, Stiles? You said he was trying to get you to do stuff with him! He got you drunk. He threw your keys in the woods and left you there. He called you crazy.”

Stiles can hear the desperate frustration in Derek’s voice. He’s upset Derek. Made him angry. Stiles is a ruiner. He ruins things. He made Derek worry for no reason. Stiles overreacted last night, that’s all.

“He didn’t call me crazy,” Stiles scoffs. “And he only did that stuff because he was drunk too and I-... I led him on,” Stiles forces out, holding his breath as he tightly ties his shoes. He spots his keys lying on his red beanie on Derek’s desk and goes to grab them.

Derek stops him, putting his hand on top of Stiles’ keys and beanie before he can grab them and run.

“He told me you were crazy. He was off laughing and drinking with his friends while you were panicking and looking for your keys in the woods alone. He is a bad guy, Stiles. Stop defending him!” Derek all but pleads.

This heavy and gnawing sensation starts clawing inside Stiles’ chest. Elliot isn’t bad. Elliot didn’t do anything bad.

Because if Elliot were bad and had done something bad last night, then that would mean he did the bad things to Stiles and Stiles is not so gullible and innocent that he would let a bad guy do bad things to him. He’s not the fucking victim here because there are no victims.

“He’s a 25-year-old man who got a 17-year-old drunk and tried to make a move and fucking threw your keys in the woods when you said no,” Derek says. “That’s what happened, isn’t it? Because I’m praying that’s all that happened, Stiles. Because the thought of anything worse than that happening to you… It… It makes me…” Derek is struggling to find the words. He’s glaring, all intense and serious, but Stiles knows the glare isn’t for him. Or he hopes it’s not. Stiles stands there, feeling helpless and angry.

“What? It makes you what?” Stiles asks. “Feel sorry for me? Pity me? I’m not helpless. I’m not pathetic.”

Stiles reaches forwards and tries to pull his beanie and keys out from under Derek’s large hand. But he’s nowhere near as strong as Derek, so his efforts are fruitless.

“No,” Derek says, quick and serious. “It makes me angry. So fucking angry. I wanted to strangle Elliot last night. I wanted to fucking hit him, over and over for even looking at you. You can never see him again. He’s dangerous.”

Stiles shakes his head. No. No, Derek doesn’t get to say shit like that. Derek doesn’t get to act like this. He turns away and goes to grab his phone and unplug it. It’s charged enough to survive the drive home. “You don’t get to tell me what to do. This is my life and he’s the guy I like and from where I’m standing you’re the dangerous one,” He regrets it the moment he says it, but Stiles clenches his hands and charges full steam ahead, unable to stop himself.

“Elliot’s not the one threatening violence or getting angry at me!”

“I’m not angry with you, Stiles,” Derek says, but he sounds frustrated. He sounds angry to Stiles. “I’m angry at this situation.”

“Well get over it then. Stop worrying about me,” Stiles orders. He demands it. Derek can’t worry about him. Derek can’t spend his time being concerned with Stiles when Derek is the one with real problems and real fucking issues. “I’m not worth your time, Derek. So stop. Please.”

“Stiles-”

“Give me my keys.”

“Stiles, please-”

“I need to go home. Are you going to be like Elliot or are you going to give me my fucking keys?”

It’s a mean thing to say. It’s so fucking mean to compare Derek to the guy he just ranted about being dangerous and creepy. Stiles hasn’t been mean to Derek since they tentatively became friends, but maybe old habits die hard.