#started really strong so that if any important players got hurt (and they did)

[idkimnotreal]

opinion of an average brazilian (me) about cameroon’s victory: 

kinda uhh about it but i guess i’m happy for them? i like to see african and latin american teams win, and most asian teams. and i’d rather a thousand times more lose to them than to saudi arabia like argentina did. they deserve to be happy. their crowd were cheering until the end despite a victory meaning nothing for them. they were just happy to be there. i know they’d be cheering even if they lost. it’s the kind of folks you just can’t be sad about losing to.

especially considering it doesn’t change our standing in the group stage. we’re still getting the “easy” bracket (better one argentina than four englands frances spains and portugals. plus defeating them in the semifinals would be epic). and we lost with a mostly reserve team on field so it doesn’t mean much. it was wrong of our coach (tite) to underestimate a weaker team, because we’ve all seen at this point no team can be underestimated in world cups, but i guess he wasn’t too worried with this outcome even if he thought it was possible. better spare the important players if we want to have realistic expectations about the hexa. and brazilians are playing to win, not to go as far as we can.

[slothmeters]

hii!! i was wondering if you would write a adley rutschman imagine?? maybe they confess their feelings towards one another? (best friends to lovers??) if so - thank you!!!

Do best friends do what we do? - Adley Rutschman

w/c- 2066

warnings- cursing (literally like one word), implied smut towards the end, self-deprecating talks

while I was writing this I got a little carried away and decided to put things that were important to me. Being able to love yourself and see yourself as you do other people is something that I will forever want everyone to experience. I struggle with self-hate, and I have recently started to not compare myself to others because you never know what they have done to look the way that they do. They could also be hating themselves. What I'm trying to say is basically, always love yourself no matter what. You are strong and beautiful always and forever. <3

Thank you for the request!!

Being a star baseball player with a hot best friend was difficult.

Especially difficult when you’ve been in love with her for years.

Today was like any other off-day for me. I was hanging out with my best friend y/n, rewatching Peaky Blinders, and eating Chinese takeout. She had her eyes fixated on John Shelby, who she thought was so hot. Having her look at someone else made me jealous.

“Hey y/n, would you wanna go to dinner with me tomorrow? My parents are coming to town and I want you to come with me.”

The words didn’t completely fall out of my mouth before she agreed.

“Oh my gosh yes! You don’t even have to ask! I love your parents! How long are they gonna be here for?”

God, she’s perfect. I love her.

“They’re just going to be here for the weekend. My dad has a conference in the city, so they wanted to stop in and catch up with me”

The rays of the golden hour came through the curtains to cast a brightening light on y/n’s beautiful face. Her prominent cheekbones, long, brown hair, and her juniper eyes. 

I could really be lost in the world of y/n l/n forever. 

“Adleyyyy! Adley Stan Rutschman I swearrr! I’ve been talking to you for the past 2 minutes what sort of daydream are you in?!”

Whoops, my bad. I didn’t mean to be gone in la la land for so long, but how could I not? She’s everything.

“What did you say y/n/n?” I replied to her, blushing mildly. 

“Is Josie coming? I miss my favorite Rutschman child.”

I slap my hand over my heart in fake hurt, “How rude ma’am. You’re not coming anymore.”

I stand up on the couch pointing my finger in the air and saying in a really bad British accent, “Madam y/n y/m/n y/l/n, you have here-on been banished from any Rutschman family gatherings on the count of the fact that yo-”

y/n also stands up and slowly starts creeping towards me.

“You will never forget this moment Mister Stinky Poopy Butt!” You will never banish me! I am the ruler of the Rutschman Kingdom Muahaha!” 

Then an idea hits me. I know what I have to do.

I tackle her onto the couch and begin tickling her.

“Nooo, I surrender Ad, I surrender!” 

Her continuous laugh is music to my ears; the most infectious thing on the planet. 

As our laughing dies down, we’re left staring at each other in a not-awkward silence. Me, kneeling in between her thighs our hands holding me from falling on top of her, just staring into each other. 

“I guess I better tell you, Josie isn’t coming, She has work. So now I guess I’m your favorite Rutschman sibling.” I said sticking out my tongue.

“You’ve always been my favorite Ads. My best friend forever.”

As the last sunlight went below the horizon, y/n laid her head on my lap, and I played with her hair, as we turned the tv to watch our comfort movie, Puss in Boots.

To be honest, I haven’t even been watching the movie. I’ve been focusing on the girl below my eyesight. 

We say that we’re best friends, but I know that best friends don’t cuddle on the couch and watch a movie that they’ve been watching together for 12 years.

 As kids, we had to take y/ns younger siblings to go see this movie, as the movie theater was just across the street from our houses. 

We ended up liking this movie just as much as the little kids. 

After that, we started having movie nights every single weekend.

She’s come to me crying over boyfriends that have mistreated her, and every single time I’ve been the one to pick up the pieces. 

She’s the one that followed me to Oregon State, and all the way out here to fucking Maryland because she didn’t want me to be alone while I was living my dream. 

There’s no way that best friends do that.

I notice the jealousy in her eyes when a girl comes up to me at the bar when we’re out with the team, but I always brush them off. She doesn’t know that it’s because of her. 

She was the first person I embraced when I found out I had been drafted first overall, she was my first phone call the night that I got too wasted with the team after my first mlb start, she’s always been a first.

The end credits of the movie started rolling when I finally came back to reality.

I felt the steady breathing of y/n under my arm, and I knew that she had fallen asleep.

When I looked at the time I realized that it was nearing 11 o’clock. 

It was too late to wake the sleeping girl up, so I brought her upstairs with me to go to bed.

She stirred a little bit as I lifted her up, “Adley?”

“Yea, I’m just bringing you up to go to bed, it’s late, and I’m not letting you drive back home.”

She just put her head back into my chest and fell right back asleep. 

Instead of turning to the guest room like I normally would, I brought her straight to my bedroom. The bed was five times comfier and the blankets fluffier. 

I knew we had some serious talking to do tomorrow.

As I tried to rest, I couldn’t stop thinking about the gorgeous girl next to me.

The nightlight that I put on that side of the room specifically for when she stayed over brought enough light to her face so I could see how peaceful she looked as she slept.

Tossing and turning, the hours felt like minutes until I finally fell asleep around four.

Waking up to the bright sunlight coming through the shade, I looked to the left of me to see if y/n was still there, and there she was, cuddled into me like a koala. 

Brushing her hair out of her face, her eyes fluttered open.

“I don’t even remember going to sleep last night.” she chuckled

She laid her head back down for a few seconds before seemingly getting the courage to get up and head to the bathroom.

As she got up, my eyes followed her. The way she stumbled in the mornings, and the way her sweatpants rolled to look like pantaloons. She was still the most beautiful thing to me.

I didn’t hear anything for a few minutes, nor did she send me anything on tik tok, and I was starting to get worried. She’s normally always a pretty loud person.

Walking towards the door, I heard soft sniffles, something that wasn’t normal.

“y/n? You ok in there?” I softly knocked on the door. 

No answer followed. 

I hesitantly opened the door with my hand covering my eyes.

“No, don’t come in, I don’t want you seeing me like this!” She sobbed loudly.

I quickly uncovered my hands to see her, on the floor with her knees up to her chest. 

She had nothing on but her sports bra and underwear, but I didn’t care because something was making her upset. 

Her phone was face up on the tile next to her and I see that her Instagram comments pulled up. 

She had posted her Pittsburgh Eras Tour Night 1 pictures feeling that she had edited them enough. 

She had sent me the pictures so many times so I could “see which ones were social media worthy”, though I thought that all of them were.

She had spent months coordinating her outfit, just to make sure it was perfect.

Her sobs haven’t ceased, but only grew as I reached for her phone to read the comments displayed on the screen. 

‘Should you really be wearing a shirt like that?’

‘Nobody wants to see all that’

‘Everyone is definitely lying when they her pretty’

She looked up at me as I finished reading what she once had. Her green eyes were now bloodshot, once full of life, now filled with sadness that would make Eeyore flinch.

I scooped her into the tightest hug that I could muster, all while stroking her hair and telling her that it was ok over and over again.

She pulled away from the hug, picking up her phone to look at the pictures once more.

“Am I ugly Adley? I mean I know I’m not a Victoria’s Secret model, but I don’t think I’m ugly.”

“No honey, you’re not ugly. You’re the most beautiful person I know.”

“I mean I know I could lose a couple of pounds, but I’m healthy, and I do take care of myself.”

“I know, and hey, so what if you’re not a size 2? You’re beautiful, and not everyone’s body works in the same way. Those people have no idea what they’re talking about. They don’t know the real you, the you who lights up when she sees echidna puggles online, or when you see your family, or even the way your nose crinkles when you smell a pickle.”

I was close to tears now. I never knew that she was hurting. I would’ve done everything in my power to reassure her that my world revolves around her and that she is everything to me.

She smiled through her tears as she wiped the tears from my eyes.

“I love you Ad, I’m sorry that I kept this from you for so long. I promise I’ve been going to therapy to help better myself and my self-image. You never make me feel anything less than beautiful.”

Her hand flew over her mouth as she gasped.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to say that. You can ask me to leave if you want. Just tell your parents that I got sick. You don’t have to talk to me again. I don’t know how you feel towards me but I’ve been in love with you since 2nd grade.”

I just sat there, my mouth agape as I took in everything that she said. I had spent all last night wondering how I was going to ask her out, but every single idea failed as my mind immediately turned to her rejecting me.

“Y/n, I love you too. Yesterday, when you were asking me about Josie, I didn’t hear you because I was too busy focusing on you. The way your eyes glistened in the sun, bringing out every shade of green and yellow that live in them, and the way that your hair so freaking effortlessly shines in any light. How could you not have noticed me staring at you like it was you who hung the moon and the stars?”

Our hands found their way together as we never broke eye contact. 

I forgot that we were in the middle of my bathroom floor, we could’ve been anywhere in the world and she would still be my sole focus. 

“Just kiss me Ad, I’ve waited way too long to do this.”

I pulled her into a kiss and the second our lips touched everything felt right. It felt like all of the stars aligned, as fireworks went off in my head and butterflies in my stomach. 

Our lips connecting was like the final piece in our complicated puzzle finally coming together. 

Every time we were out, we were told how cute a couple we were, I always reluctantly told them that we were just friends. Now I didn’t have to do that.

As we pulled away, our lips were red and puffy.

She let out a small giggle as she said, “Maybe I should put on clothes now unless you don't want me to and we can move this into another room?”

She slowly stood up, grabbing my hand as we both walked back through the door and into my bedroom. Making up for all of the missed time that we missed together.

I never thought that I would say that I was happy to see the love of my life, half-naked, crying on my bathroom floor, but now I can sense that we’re going to spend the rest of our lives together. 

Man the things that this woman does to me.

[optimistredsox]

20 April BOS @ PIT, 4-2, win

Oh hey, we got Kutter Crawford (still not only his real name, but apparently the correct spelling of his real name ¯\_(ツ)_/¯) a win, finally. He totally fucking deserved that win. He deserved a few other wins but we are trying to focus on the NOW. Mostly because in the NOW we've won a couple. As soon as we lose a couple we will focus on the THEN. But not yet. Now is for the NOW. And NOW, on Saturday afternoon, we played some good baseball. Did it help that the Pirates are playing bad baseball? Yes. Yes, it really did. The Pirates are, sadly for Pittsburgh fans, playing really bad after a strong start to the season. As the fan of a team that was doing that same thing about four days ago, I really feel for them. But also as a fan of a different team I definitely want the Red Sox to kick the shit out of the Pirates when they're down. And anyone who watched the game will know the home plate umpire didn't do the Pirates any favours either. Anyway, we won a game of baseball away from home (apparently not being at home is our super power, which makes an ownership hell-bent on sucking every last penny out of Fenway without investing in the team a little uncomfortable, I assume) and so let's look at the bright sides.

Kutter Crawford was good. Not great, but good. And, most importantly, when he got into trouble with the bases loaded and only one out, he managed not one but two fucking strike outs and saved the day. He went six, kept his count down, struck out six, gave up seven hits and one run (that run was a dinger with nobody on, so, like not the end of the world). He walked 3 but, and I need to stress this, Saturday's strike zone was a shambles and could serve as evidence of the need to shitcan home plate umpires entirely. Anyway. Way to go Kutter, you earned that win and a couple of others.

Jansen redeemed his last blown save and climbed up the all-time-most-amazing-closers ladder by striking out the side in the ninth. He's fun to watch this season. He obviously wants to get as high up on the total career saves list as humanly possible.

Masa Yoshida had a day, going three-for-four with a two-run dinger.

Jarren Duran, surfing sand worms and living his best life, started the game with a triple on what looked like the first pitch but was certainly the first at bat if it wasn't.

Wilyer Abreu made an amazing catch, knocked in Duran from his triple in the first but most importantly, and I really mean this, walked three times. This team seems addicted to strike outs like the 1986 Mets were addicted to white lines that were not base paths. Be patient and walk more, dammit. And good job, Wilyer.

Bobby Dalbec did not get another hit but he knocked in a run and played good first base even though he started at third because oh shit Tristan Casas is on the IL now with a strained rib. I really want Bobby D to do well. He's a good fielder and seems to have a grounding that gives confidence to some of the greener players. Of course, all the veterans are hurt, so every fucking player is green. But that's ok.

Refsnyder continued his welcome return flashing some good leather in right, hitting a double and scoring a run. He also walked. Good eye, Rob.

Enmanuel Valdez had a hit and walked. The walk makes me happier. This team leads the majors in strike outs, and not in the fun pitching way. In the frustrating not fun hitting way. Take walks, people.

We won!

The umpiring was a shambles but the Pirates suffered for it more than we did! It's not always going to be like that! Important to remember the next time it DOESN'T go our way.

Winning meant we won the series!

[pathetic-dumpling]

Foolish Has Been Indoctrinated Back Into The Cycle Of Violence And It’s Quackity’s Fault /rp

FULL DISCLAIMER! OP IS A DREAM APOLOGIST! If that makes you comfortable feel free to scroll by! (obviously, this has c!Quackity neg and discussions of the Red Banquet and manipulation/abuse)

I want to preface this post by saying that I won’t be talking about L’sandburg and Foolish’s parallels with Dream- that’ll be a separate post all on its own- but about Foolish and his relationship with the server. Particularly how he’s been a bit of an oddball concerning his stance on things like life and death.

Foolish is the one, gleaming exemption from the cycle of violence that’s taken hold of the server. In fact, when he first joined, he specifically stated that he wouldn’t kill any players (this no longer holds 100% true, but it’s important to note that every “death” at his hands has been purely for comedy. Foolish has yet to actually take lives in the present lore and expresses reservations about it.) This may have been from the lasting guilt of his past actions, but it was still something incredibly unique about Foolish. For a server that is built on blood and death, Foolish has refused both of those things, and this is noted specifically as something odd about him (or something to be insulted on, in the Egg’s case).

Another way Foolish stands out from the rest is that he actually found a healthy way to cope. He’s stated several times, both after getting killed by the Egg and confronting Quackity (Foolish doesn’t have a VOD channel so excuse my use of clip channels), that he uses building as a way to cope with his need for control. He recognized that his past affinity for violence did nothing but hurt people and couldn’t get him what he wanted. So Foolish turned to happy, healthy strategies to manage that need. He started building, which still allows him control over his actions and his areas, but also serves as a huge creative and emotional outlet for him. (This is most obvious back when he was working on the mansion. Foolish would get really worked up over things, but he also got incredibly excited to share his work.) In fact, he makes these points a big part of why he refuses to believe that the Egg is right.

So what role does Quackity play in all of this? Well. Quackity let him die in the Red Banquet.

Foolish woke up in his temple, scared and confused with his entire perception of his life shattered. He’s immortal. He’s not supposed to die. He is supposed to be strong. He doesn’t remember what happened for a hot second, still trying to grasp the concept of death and limbo when those never should’ve applied to him. He’s scared of death and what happened to him. The Egg actually gets into his head and challenges his ideologies-- something Quackity does later on, too. It was Quackity’s conscious choice to put Foolish through that. It was Quackity’s decision to inflict that upon Foolish, to destroy Foolish’s perception of who he is and what he stands for, just for a chance to get Foolish to join his country. It was Quackity who chose to inflict Foolish with that trauma, which we clearly see him struggling with when Quackity drops by to try to recruit Foolish to Las Nevadas.

I’m not sure Quackity knew what the Egg was going to tell Foolish, but it worked pretty damn well to make him emotionally vulnerable and susceptible to whatever the hell Quackity had to say.

Not to mention how Quackity talks down to Foolish. Quackity insults Foolish’s home, the place he’d spent months on, claiming that it was empty and hollow, despite it feeling more like a home than anything Quackity was ever a part of. An empty shell, he called it. He comes into Foolish’s home, after putting him through all of that, to insult him. To challenge his ideologies (“you need to go back to the old ways”), to dig into the past Foolish is so obviously trying to distance himself from, to dig into everything Foolish doesn’t want to be anymore, and for all intents and purposes calls Foolish pathetic for finding a better way to live his life. Foolish is audibly disturbed when Quackity brings up his past. It’s not something he wants to go back to or something he wants to talk about.

Quackity reduced the value of Foolish’s life to nothing more than a recruit for Las Nevadas. He smiles and nearly laughs as he tells Foolish he watched him die. Quackity tells him that he’s worth nothing. That he’s an empty shell of a person, that even though he’s to be feared on the outside, he’s really just a builder. He places Foolish’s value as a person as only something valid through his perspective. (Notice how Quackity says, “I did it for you” and then immediately jumps to “... because I wanted a better version of you.” It doesn’t matter to him that Foolish was happy with the life he was living.) He reduces Foolish to nothing and tells him that he’ll only be something with Las Nevadas. And Foolish, now insecure and traumatized, buys into it. After everything Quackity did and said, Foolish is left wondering was Quackity right? (Honestly, that clip is so Huge. Those seconds of unsure silence before Foolish finally voices what’s been weighing on his mind… chef kiss.)

He belittles Foolish and antagonizes him once he becomes rightfully upset. He intentionally puts Foolish in a situation that goes against his beliefs for his own personal gain. He smiles when Foolish snaps at him but throws his trident to the side. He isn’t listening to what Foolish has to say. He doesn't care because he’s gotten the answer he wants.

Honestly, just rewatch Quackity’s entire visit to Foolish. The way Quackity addresses Foolish is so fascinating. The way he disregards everything Foolish says until he gets the answers he wants is such a power move. It’s really not that long, but it’s such a good character study on Quackity and Foolish. C!Quackity, my absolute beloathed you are so good at what you do.

So Foolish, ultimately, joins Las Nevadas. He signs the contract. He falls into what Quackity wants for him. Bloodshed, fear, power. He drags Foolish back into the cycle of violence because he dares to break away from it. Because he dares rebel from the thing keeping Las Nevadas afloat. Conflict. Fear. Torture. Without Quackity’s influence, he never would’ve bought into it again.

(I do a bit more thematic analysis and theorizing after this)

Foolish was a threat to the cycle of violence, so he needed to be dragged back in, kicking and screaming. The only thing you need for a cycle to break is for enough people to decide they’ve suffered enough and decided to end it with themselves. (Small side note, but this is why I love Technoblade and the Syndicate so much. They’re all victims of this cycle. They’ve all suffered, and they’re all hurting, but they’ve decided that they’ve had enough. They strive to break this cycle for themselves and for others, too. I love them, and I’m so happy for them.) Foolish was the first exception to this rule and is notably one of the only open exceptions. (It’s not that Techno isn’t open about his current ideologies, but he lives in the arctic and rarely talks to people outside the Syndicate, so most people don’t know about his change of heart.)

Sure there are a few people who haven’t killed on the SMP, but there are even fewer that express an active avoidance of it. Overall, it made Foolish a threat because he was the first person to break away from these things. He was the first who dared to find a better outlet for his pain. It’s a very uncommon thing that made Foolish stand out, and even more so as the vastness of his power is slowly revealed, along with his past.

TL;DR, I hate the way Quackity talks to and treats Foolish. I want him to get his nasty fucking hands off my streamer and his healthy coping mechanisms.

[mythicaldemigoddess-of-deltarune]

The Player’s True Purpose In Deltarune: Is To Save Kris From Knight

even if not many agree on this fan headcanon theory, but I believe that we the Players that make up the Red Soul, are meant to give Kris happiness.

but if we choose to go on a Geno-Run and end up siding with the Knight,

then we will cause Kris even more misery than Knight did before we the Player got there.

even if Kris might seem like the type to pull dark pranks, that might not be true.

it is possible while they could pull some harmless pranks, they would never take it too far or cross the line.

that would be the Knight who does this, who most likely made Kris do things against their will before we the Red Soul/The Players even got there.

the moment the Red Soul entered Kris’s body, we took half of the control away from Knight, and the control over Kris’s body split between the Knight, The Player and Kris.

some of the choices that are given, could be what Kris really wants to say.

but if we go down a Geno-Run in Deltarune, it is possible some of the choices we pick, is exactly what the Knight would want to say.

(even if we believe it is our choice alone, it could still be the Knight’s choice.)

the only time that the Knight gets more control is during the night, and maybe even when we go down the Geno Route.

before the Player/Red Soul came into the picture,

the Knight was the only one who was in control of Kris’s body

and causing them misfortune.

my headcanon theory, is that the Knight’s Soul is a Dark Purple Color.

which the trait could be different from any other purple soul.

the trait could be Malice, or some other dark type trait.

I believe that before we the Players come into the picture, and are truly the Red Soul....the Knight had full control over Kris during both the nighttime and daytime but as soon as we entered and the red soul was placed into Kris instead of the vessel we originally made.

the control was split, at some point during the nighttime of the game, the Knight gets full control back, and it is possible it is the Knight who eats the Pie.

I think that even if it is just a video game,

how we treat Kris could effect the game’s story.

it might be important that the Red Soul/Player, Kris and those they befriend,

form a symbiotic type relationship, and even if in the game other characters might say that Kris’s choices don’t matter....but I think they do.

we just have to try to think about what choices would be the type that Kris would want to say.

plus it is possible that the Ralsei in Chapter 2, is not the same one we meet in Chapter 1.....because how he acts suspicious.

at first I thought it was just me who notice it and I guess I could of played it off as being paranoid, but it seems that other players have notice it too.

and even if the cake wasn’t a lie, I believe it is possible that Ralsei in Chapter 2 is maybe a different version of Ralsei, and the real one is locked up somewhere.

it is possible that the Ralsei in Chapter 2 isn’t the same one,

and the real one is locked up and we can’t get to them right now.

it’s possible that the Fake-Ralsei had been following them the whole time in Chapter 1, and had to put up a act and pretend they are the real Ralsei.

it is possible when we did meet them before, but they were just in a different form.

the shadow figure we believe was Lancer, could of very well been the Ralsei we meet in Chapter 2.

the Knight is but one of the enemies the Player has to save Kris from.

if we go down the Geno Route, we are just playing into Knight’s hands

and becoming a partner to them and making Kris’s life even more miserable.

even if the Ralsei in Chapter 2 being Imposter might be a headcanon theory for now, but it is possible it could very well be true.

so even if we only show mercy and go down the Pacifist Route.

the Knight can still take over Kris during the night and take us the Red Soul/Player out, and puts us back in only to help Kris be more submissive.

it is possible that before we came into the picture, Kris was fighting the Knight

and trying to get back in control of their body.

but when we came into the picture, Kris became more calm but still had the struggle happening within their very being.

the Knight might know that they can’t stay in control of Kris for very long like they use to, it is because the Red Soul that makes up the Player,

has bonded to Kris and if the Knight doesn’t put us back in Kris’s body,

when daytime comes around, Kris will have full control and might even go tell their Mom or Dad or even Susie about what’s really going on and how long it has been going on.

the Knight likely needs us, so Kris wont regain full free will.

cause they know if they do, they will tell others like their family or Susie,

about how long the Knight has been hurting them and making them do things against their will,even way before the Player arrived.

it should be very obvious that the Knight was the one who made Kris did half of the dark pranks before the Player got there.

even if Kris could turn out to be a prankster, it is not likely they would go crossing the line by their own will and it was the Knight who made them do it.

even the dangerous stunt that Noelle mentions in Chapter 2. 

in Undertale, our true purpose was to give the Monsters Freedom and give them a Happy Ending.....in Deltarune, it is to save Kris from Knight and have them make friends and form strong bonds.

there is a high chance that Ralsei in Chapter 2 is not the same one that we meet in Chapter 1, and the original might be imprisoned.

we just have to wait and see if that is true.

and if others believe that the whole Kris having three souls in them,

one being theirs, the Knight and the Player, is true.

then maybe there be more fan art about it and maybe it will turn out to be canon.

I like the idea about how some of the monsters used to be humans,

but the Diamonds (White, Yellow and Blue) caused the corrupted light to hit half of the human tribes, and transform them into the Monsters we know in both Undertale and Deltarune.

plus it would explain why Steven transformed into a very huge monster.

but if the monsters did use to be humans, it is still unlikely they can be turned into how their ancestors looked before they were hit by the corrupted light by the Diamonds.

too many generations and it is possible the change has a different effect than gems, so yeah....and there can still be different ways Steven Quartz Universe

becomes Sans, even if it turns out to be Semi-Canon.

I think if we go through a true pacifist route,

Kris starts to bond with and trust us.

but if we go through a Geno Route. Kris will distrust and fear us just like how they feel about the Knight who was the first to control them against their will.

even if I am curious about the Geno Route, I still rather try to make Kris happy but I guess I could try to play it in the Geno-Run but I think I want to try a few Pacifist-Runs first.

even if not a lot of fans of the game might agree that Kris was being controlled by the Knight before we the Players got there, but it’s fine that not everyone agrees about it.

it’s okay that only me and a few fans believe this theory to be true.         

[lovee-infected]

I love your characters analyses and I agree a lot with them!My favorite is Kalim and while he's an angel, the way most people go "Dumb innocent baby who is naive to the way of the the world uwu" kinda irks me haha. Yes, he's an airhead most of the time but he's much more perceptive than he looks (he knew about Jamil nature all along) and can use his head and put in hard work when he thinks it matters, aka helping and making other people happy (his dorm uniform and scary outfit story) (part 1)

PREACH ANON, PREACH!!! The truth has been spoken 👏👏👏 That was amazing and you almost said anything that I meant to say! Characters and even real people who have the same personality as Kalim are often mischaracterized/misunderstood, mostly because people don't know that kindness isn't equal to stupidity. Almost anything that was needed to be said is already here so I'd just go through some of the details to complete it:

(1) Kindness ≠ Stupidity

Honestly...this isn't just about twst, it's about real life. These days many who are just sweet, generous and caring toward others even as they know that they're being abused because of their kindness, are called naïve and stupid. Look, many times they do realize that not everyone around them are worthy of their kindness, but they'd continue to treat them nicely, because it's in they're nature to be kind nonetheless, and this purity and genuine kindness is the worthiest thing one can ever ask for.

After chapter 4, Kalim did understand that Jamil had never been the person he was thought he was, he didn't even consider Kalim his friend. Jamil is still rejecting him but Kalim doesn't care, he even thanked Jamil after the fairy gala event for dancing with him, because it reminded him of the times when they played as children. Someone like Kalim would never forget anyone's kindness towards him, no matter what happens or how things change through the time. If you think about it, we all need someone like Kalim in our life.

Accept it, no matter who we are or how different our taste in people might be, we'd still appreciate an ally like Kalim. Someone who'd care for you and your problems no matter what it is, even as he can't help he'd try his best to at least make you feel better. He accepts criticism and won't fight you even if you call him useless and dumb (Just like when Jamil blamed him in the end of chapter 4), yet he'd still try to befriend you and do his best to support you through obstacles. This will to help people whom he cares for regardless of what they think of him or how much it may trouble him is an absolute treasure, just how many people can be like Kalim?

(2) Kalim shouldn't be compared to Jamil all the time!

A really common way of mischaracterizing Kalim is by comparing him to Jamil all the time: "Jamil is quiet, Kalim is talkative" "Jamil is cold, Kalim is warm and friendly" "Jamil is talented, Kalim is not" "Jamil is thoughtful and wise, Kalim is careless and stupid"...

I agree that Kalim and Jamil are different in some ways, but it isn't okay if we're going to compare him to Kalim whenever we're talking about him! Do we mention Jade or Floyd whenever we're talking about Azul? Do we compare Vil to Rook everytime we're talking about him? See, Kalim and Jamil are two separate characters. No matter how different or close they are, it isn't okay to consider them as nothing more than opposites! Both Kalim and Jamil have independent personalities amd we we don't have to mention Jamil whenever we want to talk about Kalim! His existence isn't bound to Jamil's and he's got a lot we can talk about other than his relationship/differences with Jamil.

(3) His generosity tells us a lot

You may wonder, why is he so generous anyway? Giving up on golden peacocks and diamond stones for friends and even strangers without caring about the financial loss isn't such an easy thing to do. Well let's imagine being on Kalim's shoes for a second:

You come from an unbelievably rich family, and ever since you can remember everyone around you has been treating you like a prince because of your father's status and money. Everyone around you is supposed to respect and treat you like a royaland you can buy anything you can ever wish for, you've got no financial boundaries. But on the other hand, you know that almost everything you've got around you is because of money: fame, wealth and many of your friends.

And if you one day lose all the money you'd once got, what is going to happen to you? What should you rely on? Who will ever even care if you're alive or not if the money that held all of your power and clout is gone? Also, even as he's rich, there are still things that he couldn't ever buy with money. He did say that sometimes he just feels so alone several times, then quickly changed the topic into something interesting and bright. Maybe he does want people to know that he as well sometimes goes through the pain and loneliness, but doesn't want it to seem to dramatic therefore he'd just quickly mention it to let it off his chest, then starts to talk about something else.

That's much and less of the reason behind Kalim's personality, he wants to use his money and attitude to gain what he can't buy with money: Friends. That's right, many of his friends might already be around him just for money, right? But it doesn't matter, he's got enough of money to keep them all satisfied. And if satisfying them is all it takes to keep his friends around him, he's all fine with it. He doesn't mind hoe expensive it might be, as long as he'll get to have nice friends he cares for around him he's alright.

THis generosity with money has found his way to his personality and attitude as well. His nature gravitates him into trying his best to help people out with all he's got. Kalim on his own is one that can get to have hid problems solved easily, there's always someone there to do it for him so he never needs to worry about anything. Perhaps he wants others around him to feel the same? If he had someone to take care of him whenever he needed to, then everyone else as well deserve to be helped out through difficulties just like Kalim was.

(4) We should all try and see through him!

Lets take a look at Kalim's background: Growing up with legit LOTS of siblings, he surely didn't get the attention and family love he deserved to have. Have you ever considered why Jamil was always so important to him while he could've been this close to any of his brothers? Well, that might be because none of his family members wasn't ever even close to being that close to him. Jamil isn't his brother, but Kalim does consider him his brother and best friend, which is somehow showing that even his own family haven't done as much as Jamil has done for him. He could've been poisoned or assassinated at any second, how does it feel growing up in an environment where you know many people already want you dead? Also, have you considered just how insecure and skeptical he coul've became because of having such a fearful past? At this point, someone wit his background might not even dare talk to any of other students let alone making friends with them! Almost any of us could've had trust issues if we'd grown up in the same environment as him!

Come to think of it, you'll see that Kalim is also pretty similar to the well-known hero Naruto! Naruto used to be looked down on because of his lack of ability yet he never gave up, he had a stunning will to turn his enemies into friends, he was considering and never gave up on Sasuke no matter how many times he hurt and turned his back on Naruto, and he never gave up on his goal no matter how many times he lost.

Kalim as well still has a lot to learn to improve and become a stronger magician, and he has strated to work his best and try to improve! It might not happen as fast as we may expect, but someday, maybe he as well would be strong enough for Jamil to be considered his rival and friend.

Another interesting fact to point out is their sense of humor, both Narto and Kalim can be careless at the time and sometimes mess up, and they also have a thing for sometimes laughing at their friends' mistakes (Not in an offensive way) all though they're the one to mess up most of the time. Like the times Kalim laughed at how bad Ace and Deuce's performance was, then decided to teach them how to dance with the help of Jamil.

Just would've been improved much faster if his goal was to be a great magician, but the main difference between Kalim and Naruto are thirs goals. Becoming a great ninja was Naruto's biggest goal, while Kalim's greatest goal is to be a good and supportive friend for everyone around him. Keep something in mind about Scarabia: It's true that Jamil, the vice dorm leader is in charge of most of the tasks and managements; but Kalim's presence is just as necessary for the students! Students need someone understand them, listen to their messenge and care to solve their problems like a friend! With Kalim's sympathy and Jamil's management, Scarabia students would have the chance to improve their best for the sake of their dorm and their very own future. (Though there needs to be some changes, Kalim should be a little more serious in general and Jamil needs to be more considering, but if Kalim and Jamil learn to work as a team Scarabia would stand higher than many of other dorms!)

For real, this is a school of villains and Kalim is much of a great exception to be in this school. He's legit the nicest character in the game and even MC had plenty of great memories with him back in the Chapter 4. This precious boy doesn't deserve to be called stupid or naïve while all he's been doing so far was to bring everyone including us the players a wonderful time and sweet memories...we need to understand him much better💔

[nhlandotherimagines]

Gotta Be You- Tyler Seguin

@natbarzal @anastasiyaigorevnadobrodevskaya @jonnytoews19 

Blurb number 2 of the Up All Night series for y’all! This one is more angsty than the first, and has a few strong words, so be warned! Let me know what you think :)

Girl I see it in your eyes you're disappointed ‘cause I'm the foolish one that you anointed with your heart

I tore it apart, and girl what a mess I made upon your innocence, and no woman in the world deserves this, but here I am asking you for one more chance

You and Tyler have been together since highschool. For as long as you can remember, you have been told it wouldn’t work. It couldn’t. He was a superstar, and you kept to yourself for the most part. He could have any girl he wanted, and you could barely talk to guys.

If it weren’t for Tyler, you’re sure you would still be single, and likely still a virgin. Even with Tyler, you had waited for awhile to give it up for him. You waited for the perfect moment, and that moment just happened to be the night he was drafted. It was perfect, Tyler was perfect. Now here you are, years later, wishing you’d never met him.

Sure, you know as well as anyone, the kind of reputation Tyler had, but as you read the headline for the tenth time this morning, your heart breaks all over again.

Tyler is sound asleep beside you, as you lean your head back against the headboard. He was a flirt, you knew that, but you never expected him to cheat on you.

When Tyler finally wakes up, he rolls over to face you. Normally, he’d wrap his arms around you and pull you into him. However, when he finds you sitting up staring at your phone, disappointment clear in your eyes , he knows there would be no cuddling this morning.

“Y/n?” Tyler’s voice is weary, like he knows what’s coming as he pulls himself up against the headboard beside you. You send him a glare, hoping that you get the message across without having to speak. You don’t trust your voice, because you know as soon as you try and speak the tears will fall. “Babe. Talk to me please.” Tyler is pleading now.

“No. Don’t ‘babe’ me!” You snap at him quickly, unable to keep your emotions in check any longer. “How the hell can you sleep here like nothing happened when you’ve been cheating on me!?” You’re yelling now, as you throw the blankets off of your body and pull yourself out of the bed.

“It’s not what it looks like!” Tyler is quick to protest, but it’s no use. You just throw your phone at him.

“Really!? Because it looks to me like you have your tongue down that blonde’s throat!” You don’t know when you started crying, but you can feel the tears on your face now.

“I’m sorry! I was drunk and I kissed her, but that’s all that happened! Please babe you have to believe me!” It’s hard to tell through the tears blurring your own vision, but you’re pretty sure that you see tears in Tyler’s eyes now too.

“Right, because that’s so much better Tyler. Why should I believe you anyway? I’ve given you everything, Jesus Ty, I moved from Whitby to Boston and now to Texas! Do you think I wanted that?” You turn away from him beginning to grab some of your things throwing them into a bag. You don’t know where you’re going, but you know you can’t stay.

“Wait! Don’t go, please let’s talk about this. I know how many sacrifices you’ve made for me, for us, and it means so much to me. I love you baby, please stay.” He is crying now, and you don’t dare look at him. All you manage is to shake your head before grabbing the bag and walking out of the room. Soon later you walk out the front door with, hopefully, all of your important things.

Can we fall, one more time? Stop the tape and rewind, and if you walk away I know I'll fade ‘cause there is nobody else

A week goes by, and you continue to ignore Tyler’s constant calls and texts. You were finally back home in Whitby, safely tucked away in your childhood bedroom. Far from any Stars player, and far from your life with Tyler.

Your family have tried to talk to you about what happened, but you have barely said a word to any of them since arriving. So when you hear a soft knock on your bedroom door, you attempt to compose yourself quickly before mumbling a ‘come in’.

The door hesitantly opens, and though you expect to see your mom or one of your siblings, it’s Tyler who pushes through the doorway closing it gently behind him. You blink rapidly, wondering if maybe you are hallucinating or dreaming, but no it’s him. “Tyler?” Your voice sounds so weak and broken to even your own ears, and Tyler’s heart breaks even more. He looks terrible, like he hasn’t slept in days, he definitely hasn’t shaved recently. You’re sure you don’t look any better.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry. Please listen for a minute.” He pauses for a moment, and everything in your brain screams for you to protest, and tell him to get lost. Your heart stops you though, because it wants nothing more than to hear him out. Your heart wins out, so you nod, and Tyler continues. “I kissed her. There is absolutely no denying that, and I won’t even try to lie and tell you it wasn’t my fault. I was lonely, I was drunk, and I was careless. If I could go back in time right now, take it all back. If I could choose to stay at the hotel that night, choose not to drink, choose not to talk to her, choose not to kiss her. God I’d do it in a heart beat. But, please just trust me when I say that is absolutely as far as it went. I shut it down, and immediately felt guilty. I should have called and told you, and I’m sorry. It’s only you Y/n. There is no one else. There never was anyone else, there never will be, it’s always been you.”

His speech has your head spinning, and your heart breaking all over again. You believe him, it’s Tyler, you know him better than anyone. He hurt you though, and you’re so scared, but here you are. For the thousandth time, you’re falling into Tyler. He holds you against his chest and the two of you cry.

It’s not forgiven or forgotten, but all you know is you need Tyler and he needs you.

It's gotta be you, only you

It’s been a year since Tyler flew to Whitby to bring you home. Since then, he’s been nothing short of the perfect boyfriend. Going above and beyond to show you how much you mean to him, to prove he’s willing to give as much for you as you have given for him.

As you sit across from him at your dining room table, the dinner he made sitting in front of you, you realize how much you’ve both grown. How much your love for this man has grown, and as he smiles brightly at you, you know he feels it too.

“I got you a little something.” He beams, signalling for you to wait right there as he scurries quickly out of the room. When he returns his hands are empty, but he is sporting a shy smile.

You smile back at him, taking a moment to take him in. He dressed up for your at home dinner date. A nice dark blue suit, the dress shirt unbuttoned a bit at the top, his tattoos peaking out a little. You giggle as you notice a few stains on the dress shirt, likely from him cooking, as he steps closer to you.

When you finally pull your eyes away from his shirt and to his face, he’s only standing a couple inches to your right. His eyes are a little glossy, and the nervous smile is now replaced with a more serious expression. You furrow your brows at him in confusion, heart beating rapidly as adrenaline courses through your veins. You have no idea what is happening and you’re absolutely terrified.

You watch closely as Tyler reaches into a pocket on the inside of his suit jacket. You can see his hands shaking, and you’re sure yours are too. As Tyler pulls his hand from his pocket, you feel as though you’re going to pass out. The box in his hand is small, and though you can’t really see it, you have a good idea of what it could be.

Your suspicions are only confirmed when Tyler slowly sinks down onto one knee. “Y/n, I do not know what I ever did to deserve you, and I know I’ve made many mistakes in my life. I lost you once, and it was the worst feeling I’ve ever felt. I’m sure you have doubts about me, about us, and you have every right to, but I want to prove to you how much I want this. Y/n, it’s got to be you, and if it’s not then I don’t want anyone. Will you marry me?”

You nod enthusiastically, as you fall to your knees in front of him. Sobs wracking your body as you wrap yourself around him. Tyler cries too, as the two of you hold each other on the dining room floor of your shared home. He knew that his teammates would give him shit if they could see him now, but he doesn’t care. All that matters is it’s you. It’s gotta be.

[tommyspeakycap]

Would you write for John McGinn? anything at all for him haha

you got me

a nasty breakup brings you to the door of the aston villa player, ready to welcome you once again with open arms full of love.

Whistling to himself as he walks from his bathroom to the kitchen of his home, John towel dries off his hair when his doorbell sounds through the house. His immediate reaction is one of question. He tilts his head, furrows his brows and wracks his brain for a memory of potentially making plans that he had then completely forgotten about. Instead, he begins to wonder if there was a chance he had leaked his address and would be met with paparazzi or fans standing on his doorstep. The villa player draws blank on both of those thought processes, and is snapped from them when the a harsh knocking accompanies the sound of said doorbell.

His feet hurry him towards the door, taking the opportunity to look at the doorbell footage he could access from the little alarm box on the wall just next to it. His eyes are met with you standing on his porch dripping from the rain, shivering in soaked clothes and very possibly crying.

He reaches for the door immediately, tugging the heavy thing open with eyes wide, "Bloody hell, you have a key!" He exclaims, ushering you in as he removed his hair towel from around his neck to drape over your shoulders while you close the door behind you. Your lips are a little blue from the winter chill that had blown the cold rain through your clothes. "Forgot it." You chitter, entire body shivering with the painful force to try and conserve some form of heat.

John grabs a bigger towel, one that's much softer and warmer. "Strip off," he orders hurriedly, turning his back to go back into the kitchen and see if he left any clothes in his dryer from the load he put in earlier. "Sh-shouldn't you take me t-t-to dinner first?"

Your half hearted, shivering attempt at a joke doesn't make him laugh like it usually would. He turns around to shoot you a disapproving scowl. "I'll get you some warm clothes, get dried."

You do as told, or attempt to. It's hard when you can't feel your fingers to get a grip on anything more than the zipper of the zip up hoodie you'd had on. You try to shake the material from your shoulders, but your whole body is stiff with the tight muscles that the freezing temperatures had inflicted upon you.

"You'll end up with hypothermia," John rushes, dropping the warm clothes down on the cabinet by the door where you still stand, surrounded by a puddle of rainwater. He works quickly, but carefully to shed you of the zipper, then looks to you for permission to lift your t-shirt over your head. He hands you the warm, dry towel to cover yourself with so he can unclip your soaked bra. Shoes off next, he discards them off behind him as water literally pools from them. You keep that towel around you, patting at your skin as he tries to get your leggings off as painlessly as possible, but every touch still hurts. Your pants, you insist on doing by yourself even if it is a struggle while John holds up the towel.

He didn't bother to even make an attempt at pulling the hair bobble out of your hair, John just snaps the thin black band wordlessly, easily between his fingers before he orders you to flip your hair so he can tied it in another warm towel.

"Why were you out in that?" He asks as he sits you down in his cosy living room with a new, drier towel. You're still chittering, which is worrying but John had learned a lot from coaches behaviours towards the teams when they come off after games played on nights like these. "It's negative 6 degrees."

Warming up was the most important thing, just not too quickly.

You avert your eyes from his, chewing slightly on your lip. "(y/n)," John presses, moving to occupy the space on the couch next to you. You sit forward on the couch so you both sit shoulder to shoulder, his head turns to you while yours faces the floor. "David kicked me out, I didn't have my keys and my phone wasn't charged so I couldn't call you. Busses were off for the weather and the snow covered the train lines yesterday, plus I don't have any money with me so I was scuppered there too. I did some grovelling at the door then I walked here when he wouldn't let me back it."

John's jaw all but hits the floor as anger infiltrates the worry coursing through his veins.

"Don't..." you sigh, trailing off as you stand up with a loose shake of your head. "Don't look at me like that John. I'm gonna go get changed."

The sound of your bare feet padding off through his house holding the warmed pile of his clothes he gave to you was one that he would certainly like to get used to, but you had both done this dance so many times he knew it wasn't something he could count on. Usually you'll call him though, or he'll go and pick you up after a mutual breakup. You've never come on no notice and it's never been because of something like this. John hadn't heard from you in a few weeks either, you had his mind reeling.

Even more so when you reappeared, dry hair tied back out of your face with his grey joggers and black t-shirt drowning you in its size. They were him homebody comfy clothes, so they were bought to be even a little big on him. He had to admit they looked a lot better on you, though.

In the time you were gone, John had made hot chocolate and brought through his biscuit tin to sit on the couch between you both. Words weren't deemed necessary to find a movie he knew you would like. That and he knew you didn't want to talk, so even if he tried it would have been like trying to have a conversation with a brick wall.

He keeps looking over at you, trying to do so discreetly by flicking his eyes over in your direction. Those little giggles at Hugh Grants exasperated facial expressions while James Can disposes of a body in a trunk in the 1999 rom com you loved so much. The movie is good, but your reactions to every time you watch it just like each time is the first time. John can't understand why a man would ever do anything that would wipe that little grin off your perfect lips. How anyone could ever put anyone out on their doorstep in a  storm like that, but least of all someone who was supposed to love you. If it were up to John, you would have been wrapped in a blanket the second the rain pour started, curled in his arms falling asleep to the sound of the thunder rumble and the rain pattering against the street. That was his dream, the one he couldn't keep a girlfriend because of. All he wanted was you and nobody else ever lived up to that.

He wishes he could scream at you, tell you that those very sorry excuses for men that you end up with and what you have with them isn't love. Or maybe you do love them, but they do not love you. They like the idea of you, someone free spirited and always ready to fall in love.

It truly seemed as though you could fall in love with anyone but the one man who wanted you the most.

Watching you fall asleep on his couch, head resting on the high armrest with knees curled up and his blanket still tucked around you with a tiny little bit of chocolate on the corner of your lip sends his heart racing a mile a minute. It feels so right to have you there. He feels guilty for enjoying it. Your heart was broken even if you wouldn't say a word about it and here he was enjoying it.

He uses his foot to push open the spare bedroom door just along the hall from his room. John lays you down carefully on top of the duvet, letting your head nuzzle into his plush pillows as your eyes remain shut in soft sleep. He grabs another blanket for you and makes sure the heating is right up in the room before he leaves you there with an ache in his chest.

He goes to check on you in the middle of the night, finding you not in the room but instead standing in his kitchen still shrouded in blankets with crazy sleep hair and tired eyes.

“Can’t sleep?” He asks, startling you ever so slightly. You shrug, moving to take a seat at his kitchen island. “Woke up and got all messed up thinking about how i have literally nothing.” You mumble in response, your voice thick with the desire to burst into tears. It breaks his heart to see you so defeated, your eyes never meeting his as they stare pointedly down at the marble surface. “I’m sorry.” John says, “Really. He’s an arsehole. I can go round and grab some stuff for you tomorrow if you want.” He offers, his apology as sincere as they come. But you shake your head with only a quick glance up at him. John isn’t hot tempered at all. He’s mellow, easygoing and funny. Never quick to anger and never the type to get into a fight but by god is he protective of you. You worry about the kind of blow that would come to his career if he gets an assault charge against your ex when he inevitably doesn’t let John into the house to get any of your stuff while probably barraging you with insults.

“It’s not worth it.” You admit. “It’s less physical. Just leaves me empty, i guess. ‘Cause i gave everything to that relationship and how i have nothing left to give.” The heartbreak and the weight of your words will weigh on John’s mind probably for years to come. How someone could do that to you he will never understand. There’s nothing he wants more in this world than for you to be his to love. He wants to shower you with praise, make you realise how strong you are and remind you every single day that he loves you. That’s what you deserve. You deserve kindness and encouragement and support. He wishes more than anything to be the guy who could give that to you instead of watching you enter into relationships with the worst men he’s ever known only to see you torn down at the other side of it.

“You’ve got me.” He offers. He knows that’s probably not what you want to hear and it might not give you the kind of relief he wishes he could give. But you smile softly and stand up, shuffling over to him under blankets and his warm clothes until you reach him. You don’t really hug him, just lean against him with your cheek on his chest. John wraps his arms around you tightly and feels you sigh contently. He’s your John. The burly Scottish lad who makes you laugh when you feel like crying, who looks after you and keeps you pushing forward when life feels like it’s stacked against you. “Yeah. I love you, John.” You hum softy. John can feel the small smile on your lips against the thin material of the shirt he wore to sleep in because his house was like a sauna with the heating to keep your warm. He can tell you’re about to fall asleep there because he supports most of your weight. He holds you to him, rubbing your back soothingly as you nod ever so slightly against him.

“Even when i’ve got nothing, i’ve got you.”

[aellynera]

Loose Change (Llewyn Davis x Reader)

LOOSE CHANGE

For this week’s Writer Wednesday hosted by the lovely @autumnleaves1991-blog! Llewyn was the first thing that popped into my head when I saw this, and I really don’t know where the rest of it came from, but I just had to write it. Thank you for reading, commenting, liking, and reblogging! 💜💜

This week’s inspiration:

Word Count: 2300 on the dot.

Summary: How bad can it be when your phone rings in the middle of the night? (An alternate take on what could have happened on the way back from Chicago.)

Warnings: Angsty. Hopeful. Hopeful angst? Angstful hope? Maybe a swear or two. Sketchy phone booths. Wrong numbers. Yearning. Secrets, poor decisions, better choices.

The bed was warm but you could hear the cold rain pounding on the window behind your head. Ignoring it and staying in your cozy, comfortable cocoon was definitely your best option, and you rolled over and pulled the blankets tighter over your head. This was the right place to be and you felt yourself start drifting back to sleep.

Until your phone started ringing.

Your phone, which was nowhere near your bed, or even in your bedroom. It wasn’t even within fifty feet of you; it was securely fastened to the wall in your kitchen, by the sink, next to the pantry door. And your kitchen was clear on the other side of the apartment. 

A quick check of the clock told you that it was also the ungodly hour of 3:28 am, the red digits blaring at you angrily in the near-dark. Who in the world was calling you at this hour? For a long few minutes you thought about ignoring it. It was probably a wrong number. That happened all the time. Or maybe it was some kids having a party and pranking. In the middle of the night. That was probably it.

But a little tickle at the back of your brain, small and sinewy, kept curling around your thoughts and rationalization and it wouldn’t let go. Maybe it’s important. Maybe it really was. Maybe something happened to one of your parents or your sister or-

The phone didn’t stop ringing. So it must be important.

With an exasperated groan, you launched yourself out of bed, one quilt still wrapped around you to ward off the damp chill. Your bare feet slapped along the tile floor and your balance wavered slightly, your muscles still used to being asleep, until you finally got to the kitchen and yanked the receiver off the ringing phone.

“Hello?” your sleep-ridden voice rasped out cautiously. 

“Hey,” the voice on the other end came back. “You got the stuff?”

“The...what?”

“You know, the…” 

“The st...No! Do you know what time it is? This is a wrong number! What the hell!” You slammed the phone back down on its cradle.

Figures. It was a wrong number. You wanted to go back to bed, you really did. But now you found yourself wide awake because someone wanted stuff that you wouldn’t have day or night.

So you wandered over to the couch and tried to get comfortable on the lumpy cushions, and watched the rain coming down outside your window bounce dramatically off the fire escape.

Until your phone rang again.

A curse flew from your lips as you hurled the quilt off and stomped back to the phone. You grabbed it, put it to your ear, and shouted, “What?”

“I...are you okay?” a voice came back. A familiar voice, this time.

“Llewyn? Is that you?” you closed your eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s me,” he replied. “Uh, sorry I’m calling you so late.”

You sighed. “I’m fine. It’s fine. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I guess. I just...some stuff happened, and I needed to hear a familiar voice.”

Your heart immediately softened in your chest, despite your very strong desire to still be angry. Llewyn certainly didn’t sound okay, but that was his norm. You wanted to reach through the phone and hold him, care for him.

You always had a soft spot for him, ever since Jean introduced you so long ago, that day in the park when all the musician friends gathered to play at the fountain. He spent a fair amount of time sleeping on this lumpy old couch. You cooked him a hot meal when you could (and when he would let you), gave him a place to stay even if you weren’t home (on the rare occasion that he would even agree to it, which was slowly becoming more frequent.) You went to as many of his shows as you could, and you really just liked to hang out with him when he was around. He’d slowly become one of your best friends. 

And yeah, he was kind of an asshole a lot of the time, but he was sweet and you probably liked him a little more than you were willing to admit.

“Llewyn, where are you? Do you need me to come get you or something?” you asked with a yawn. You really hoped that’s why he was calling you at...3:37 am..

His laugh was short. “Well, if you feel like driving to Ohio, sure.”

“Ohio?” you cried. “What are you doing in…”

The laugh from moments before fell into a sigh and you could hear a soft thunk follow. “I’m in Akron. In a payphone booth outside of a bar, banging my head on the glass. I’ll hitchhike home in the morning, it’s fine.”

“You’re in Akron,” you repeated slowly. “Why are you in Akron?”

“Because I was in Chicago-”

“Which is not Akron, the last time I checked. Or even the same state,” you pointed out. You picked the quilt up from the floor and wrapped yourself back in it, settling on the couch again. The receiver cord had just enough reach that you were able to sit with your back against one arm and stare back out the window and the slippery wet metal of the fire escape glinting in the moonlight.

Vaguely you remembered this was the quilt Llewyn had used the last time he stayed with you.

“Well it’s on the way back,” Llewyn snapped. “And I wouldn’t be in Akron if the car I was in hadn’t broken down and…”

“Does this have something to do with Diane?” you asked softly. That sinewy tentacle of intuition was back, curling around your brain again.

The rough exhale of air on the other end of the line was the only answer you needed.

“Llewyn.” You said again, still soft, but more stern. Something was going on, and you could tell he wasn’t going to tell you without some prodding.

After what felt like hours, he finally muttered, “Maybe.”

“Llewyn, what are you doing? You can’t possibly want to talk to her, after everything that happened. Did the car really break down in Akron, or did you request a stop? Because it seems kind of suspect that you would just, you know, end up there of all places on your way back from Chicago, and what were you even doing in Chicago? I just saw you a couple days ago and you didn’t say anything about--”

It wasn’t until Llewyn broke through your rant that you noticed you’d hadn’t stopped for a single breath.

“The car really did break down,” he insisted. “And I don’t actually want to see her. Not really. But...I feel like I kind of have to, and it’s...it’s just a coincidence that I got stranded here?”

You didn’t know what to say. So you didn’t, and after a beat, he continued.

“I have a kid.”

It suddenly felt like all the air was sucked out of the room. “I’m sorry, what?” You knew he couldn’t see you, but maybe he could feel the way your eyebrows shot up your forehead.

“Diane,” he sighed again, “she didn’t...I found out she had the kid. So I have a kid. Somewhere in Akron. Where I’m currently stranded, looking like a drunk bum loitering outside a sketchy bar.”

You blinked infinitely as you stared out the window. What do you say to that? How do you say anything to that? So you just said the first thing that came to mind.

“Are you drunk?”

“Really?” Now you were pretty sure you could hear his brows raise. “Do I sound like I’ve been drinking?”

“No, I’m sorry, I just...holy shit, Llewyn,” you breathed. “And she never told you?”

His chuckle sounded so morose. “No. Why would she? That was a pretty shit time, for everyone.”

“I’m listening,” you whispered.

You knew the story of what happened between them. Llewyn had told you himself, one night over coffee and an entire chocolate cake that one of your elderly neighbors had made for you for helping her fix her leaky faucet. Of course, Jean had (in her own mind) helpfully filled in all the blanks she swore Llewyn left out, but you preferred to go with his version. She only thought you knew the basics. But that night, fueled by caffeine and frosting, Llewyn admitted you were the only one apart from the actual players that knew everything.

But this part? This was something new.

“She never told me,” he explained. “I thought she went through with it and it turned out she didn’t and she’s not even the one who told me, it was...you know, never mind. That part isn't important.”

“So when did you find out? How long have you been in Akron?”

He sighed. “Just before I left for Chicago. And since this afternoon. I thought about looking them up, but…”

And he told you how he tried an old number he had for Diane’s parents, but it was disconnected. And he’d asked around at the diner he found (over something called chili which wasn’t like any chili he’d ever had and just further proved how weird Ohio was) but got no information. And how he didn’t really want to see her, and maybe he didn’t even really want to meet up with anyone, but if he could, he at least wanted to see what his own kid looked like, just to know.

The longing in his voice, the what if, the hurt. It was all laid bare from hundreds of miles away, yet you could feel it hovering next to you on that couch. Wrapped around you in that threadbare quilt.

It didn’t feel like the time to offer any advice, and platitudes, any words at all. Not now. So you simply curled up in that quilt - his quilt - and listened. It was rare for him to open up like this and you didn’t want to interrupt, didn’t want to staunch the flow of emotional honesty that he quite frankly needed.

Until the tinny, pleasantly fabricated, slightly mechanical voice broke in, if you’d like to continue this call, please add funds, otherwise this call will disconnect in three minutes.

“Shit, that was my last quarter,” Llewyn muttered. “I’ll get back to you when I get back in town, yeah?”

Oh no, you brain screamed. Well, yes, but no, no he was not just going to let the issue drop like this, quarters be damned.

“Llewyn, I need you to listen to me. Get home as soon as you can, and we can talk about this more. And get here in one piece, please be safe.”

“Okay,” he replied with a heavy exhale.

“And...and Llewyn, when you get back home, please...please come home.”

There was silence from his end, silence that lasted so long you thought the call had disconnected without you noticing. Your breath stuck in your lungs, for how long you couldn’t tell, but then suddenly his voice came through the receiver again, flustered and short.

“I...okay, yeah, I will, I gotta go, but...damn it, what is there to lose now, I lo--”

And the call cut off.

You stared at the receiver in your hand for so long the fast busy-beep of the receiver being off the hook is the only thing that snapped you out of it.

You didn’t sleep for the rest of what was left of the night.

For the next day, and the day after, you ran the entire phone call through your head more times that you cared to admit. Every word he’d said, every word you’d said, every pause and admission and what he might have been trying to say at the end. Your mind very (un)helpfully offered all kinds of ideas about what wasn’t said, what maybe couldn’t yet be said, and you just let it tumble around chaotically. 

As if you could control it anyway.

You didn’t get much sleep.

Later that night, and on the second day after, after a long day at work and a longer day of thinking, you found yourself curled up on the couch again, with a glass of wine and a record spinning quietly on the turntable. Wrapped in that same quilt. Your quilt- his quilt.

You stared out the window, this time not at the rain, but the setting sun and the soft, rich colors it was painting across the sky.

You hoped he had really listened. You hope he knew what you actually meant. You hoped he wouldn’t get sidetracked as he often tended to do and that he would really show up. You didn’t know how you were going to do it, but you would help him like you always had. Together you would figure out what to do, what he needed to do, what he wanted to do, how to do it. Together.

This wasn’t something he should have to figure out on his own. He probably didn’t want to admit it, but you hope he knew he couldn’t, and shouldn’t, and didn’t have to. You hoped Llewyn would let you.

That tickle, that tentacle in the back of your brain, took firm hold. You knew he would come back, but you prayed he would come home.

That he had listened. That he knew. That he--

Your head snapped up at the sound of a knock on the door. You carefully set the wine glass down and slowly walked yourself, quilt and all, over to answer it.

And once you opened it, saw the man standing before you, exhausted and disheveled but...grateful, maybe even hopeful, you wrapped it around both of you and pulled Llewyn in.

~end~

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[teawaffles]

The Conspiratorial Bullet: Chapter 2

“Oh my…… I thought this would be nothing more than a war game, but it’s certainly more nerve-wracking than I expected.”

The participants had taken their places, and around five minutes had passed since the game began. Kevin was whispering to Albert beside him as they walked, while pointing the gun he’d received in every direction around him. But in contrast to the jittery man, Albert had the relaxed air of a soldier.

“Certainly, this is a feeling of tension one wouldn’t normally get to experience. In fact, the enemy might just be around that corner.”

“What!? Really?”

Panicked, Kevin’s eyes darted all around them in a fluster. That disproportionate reaction elicited a wry laugh from Albert.

“Although it’s important to be aware of your surroundings, if you’re that stiff, your movements will be slow when it’s time to fight. Please relax a little.”

“I-I see. Yes, you’re right……”

Kevin nodded. Beside him, Albert’s guard was impeccable as he watched the leaves swaying in the slight breeze.

The playing field encompassed the entire forest. That said, as it wasn’t a vast area, there was no danger of getting lost. In addition, there was a little cabin in the woods, used on a daily basis by the gamekeeper who managed the hunting grounds; as they had obtained permission to use it during the game, indoor battles were also an option.

For the purposes of safety, all players were obliged to wear spectacles shaped to resemble goggles, as well as bulletproof vests. The guns they had been issued fell into two categories: revolvers and sniper rifles. As a forfeit, and also to pass the time, eliminated players were tasked to feed pheasant chicks at a game bird nursery a good distance away.

Incidentally, Herder had also wanted to impose a severe punishment in the event a gun was damaged. Foreseeing that this would create needless worry, Moran and the others had swiftly hushed him before the words left his mouth.

Thinking back to the explanation of the rules, Kevin looked at the revolver in his hand.

“In any case, this gun is exquisitely crafted. As it was mentioned earlier that the guns used fake bullets, I imagined it would resemble a toy, but it looks exactly like the real thing.”

“I’m pleased to hear that, though it’s all due to Herder’s exceptional skill. I heard he oversaw the creation of these weapons down to the finest details.”

Kevin looked at the card attached to his gun with string. Written on it was a number 8.

“I see: so this is a measure to prevent the guns from getting lost. But if they are so important, I thought it would be safer to carve the numbers directly onto them.”

“You may be right; in which case, we may’ve caused everyone some inconvenience.”

Albert said that with a slightly apologetic tone, and Kevin waved it off.

“No, no — if anything, it reflects his passion, and I honestly respect that. Even though I work in a different field, I have a lot to learn from him as a professional.”

“Thank you very much. I’m sure Herder would be delighted to hear that,” Albert replied, with sincere joy.

However, in an instant, Kevin’s expression seemed to grow a little darker.

“Still, maybe I shouldn’t have brought Helena here after all. She absolutely insisted on coming, so I relented, but with the guns looking so real, that…… I wonder if it’ll remind her of that incident.”

Albert could sense what he was trying to say.

“For that, I sincerely apologise. This event must seem somewhat inappropriate after what she went through.”

Hearing Albert take his remark so seriously, Kevin tried to explain himself in a fluster.

“N-No, it’s alright, I did not mean it as criticism. Besides, Helena seemed to be especially enjoying herself too.”

“Nonetheless, please allow me to apologise, for it may be the case that she’s simply putting up a strong front.”

At that, Kevin cocked his head in confusion.

“……Then, why did you decide to hold this game?”

Albert’s reply sounded almost as if he was speaking to himself.

“——Because it’s part of our ‘plan’.”

“Huh?”

Unsure of the meaning behind that word, the question fell from his lips before he could stop himself. But Albert did not elaborate further.

The conversation had unwittingly ground to a halt. Just as Kevin was searching for a different topic to talk about, Albert’s sharp gaze landed on a nearby thicket.

“There’s someone there.”

“Huh? Really?”

Bewildered, Kevin looked in the same direction. Then they heard the sound of leaves rustling, and the undergrowth parted to reveal an elderly nobleman.

Seeing the person before them, Albert lowered his gun. A warm smile rose to his face.

“……So it was you, Lord Andy. I thought you were the enemy.” [1]

“Hello, Albert-kun. Just for fun, I thought I’d hide and see how long it took you both to spot me, but it seems you discovered me instantly. As expected of the young, your perceptiveness is incredibly sharp,” he laughed, ruffling his own short white hair. He was also on the same team as Albert and Kevin.

The elderly nobleman was Andy Krueger, whose estate extended across the surrounding lands; he also owned the hunting grounds on which the game was being held. Today’s game had been brought into reality after Albert proposed the idea to him.

For such an important gathering on the social calendar, one would normally be hesitant to transform it into an unorthodox event like this. But Andy had jumped at the offer, and even offered his opinions on the finer points of the game. Because of this generous and broad-minded nature of his, he also had the trust of the other nobles.

At the man’s arrival, for some reason, Kevin sighed in relief.

“Please don’t surprise me like that — unlike Lord Albert, I was frightened half to death.”

“Sorry about that, Kevin-kun. But aren’t you being too timid? Have a little more nerve!”

“I’ll do my best.”

At their friendly banter, Albert seemed curious.

“Are both of you already acquainted?”

“Yes,” Kevin affirmed. “We got to know each other when Helena’s father and I were gaining recognition in London. Ever since that time, the nobility had not looked fondly upon us, and only Lord Andy treated us as equals.”

Kevin looked gratefully at the nobleman as he said this, and Andy clapped his shoulder heartily.

“Those aristocrats are really quite averse to the changing times, it seems. But I have no interest in such dreadful traditions. Even at the gathering earlier, they were keeping their distance and saying such rude things that I had to tell them off. Although I hadn’t seen them in a while, because of that, I didn’t even get a chance to say hello— Ah, apologies.”

“No, it’s fine, Lord Andy. You don’t have to apologise,” Kevin said, waving both hands in the air. “Rather, after hearing that you went to such lengths for a good-for-nothing like me, I’m truly grateful.”

“What’s this? Timid as ever, I see,” Andy barked. “You’re an excellent businessman, so why not act like it?”

Then the elderly nobleman’s expression, which had been cheerful thus far, clouded over just a little.

“Nevertheless, I still feel sorry for your friend. At least, his daughter Helena seems to be doing well…… Have there been no clues even now?”

Kevin’s tone also grew heavy.

“……None at all. Helena believes he’s alive, but personally, I think he’s no longer……”

“He’d suddenly vanished, didn’t he?”

Out of the blue, Albert cut in. The two men were startled, but Albert continued with a somewhat knowing look.

“After the incident at the department store, I became curious, and tried doing some research into it myself. It seems there are various peculiarities about this case. For one, the store Helena’s father opened with Mr Kevin had been a success, but one day, he simply disappeared without warning. On the night he was thought to have disappeared, when he was having dinner at home, a friend testified that nothing had seemed particularly off about him.”

“Moreover, that was the last time I saw him. I never thought it would be the last conversation we’d have together……”

Kevin — the friend who’d testified — said so in a thin voice, the corners of his mouth twitching as if in self-mockery.

“Of course, at first, the police suspected that I had something to do with it. They even went to the trouble of thinking up a motive: that as a co-owner, I would stand to gain all the store’s profits if he were to disappear.”

Thinking back to that false accusation, Kevin’s shoulders drooped. Seeing that, Andy addressed him in a droll voice.

“Come now, you never know — one day he might just come home all of a sudden. I’ve told you before: there’s nothing we can do at present, and on top of that, worrying unnecessarily will only injure your health.”

“……You’re right. Besides, we’re supposed to be having fun right now: if I’m the only one being so grave, I’ll just be putting a damper on things.”

“Exactly, exactly. Well then, let’s get back to the game,” Andy urged, thumping him on the back.

Albert, who had been watching their exchange with a calm gaze, smiled gently.

“Indeed; let us focus on the competition first. By the way, it’s about time for us to get our blood pumping…… I’d like to advance deeper into enemy territory. What say you two?”

At his invitation, Kevin quickly shook his head.

“No no no! Frankly, since the start of the game, my heart’s felt like it’s about to explode! Anything more than this and it’ll stop altogether!”

But the elderly nobleman threw his head back in hearty laughter.

“You young people have so much energy, it’s making me jealous. Kevin-kun, you’ve got to watch and learn as well.”

“No…… When I think about what lies ahead, somehow my legs can’t stop shaking,” Kevin murmured weakly. His legs were indeed trembling pitifully, so much so it wouldn’t be surprising for them to give out any moment now.

Andy sighed, as if astonished.

“It can’t be helped then. Sorry, Albert-kun — it seems he can’t go on. I’d like to say that I’ll go with you in his stead, but…… for some reason, my legs have been hurting for a while now. Despite my high spirits, my years have bested me today,” he laughed wryly, his expression weak.

Albert nodded firmly.

“I understand. Well then, let’s part ways here. I wish you both the best of luck.”

“T-Take care……”

Watching Albert’s brave figure as he walked gallantly into the depths of the forest, Kevin felt ashamed at his own cowardice once again.

Scoreboard

🔹 Blue team: Albert, Jack, Fred, William, Kevin, Andy

🔺 Red team: Moran, Bond, Louis, Helena

Footnotes:

[1] Andy’s title is not formally given in the story, but judging from the amount of land he owns, I think it’s safe to say that he’s a member of the peerage like Albert, and hence should be addressed as “Lord Andy”. (Wikipedia)

[theggning]

Your post reminded me of something that always perplexed me about Danse's backstory. I'd love to hear your thoughts on it. What do you think of his relationship with Cutler? It really weirds me out, because on the one hand Danse speaks about it as if they were practically married (did everything together, super strong bond so much so that he is scared of loving again), but on the other hand he says that nobody ever cared about how he felt so I'm like ??? which one is it Danse.

Short Doylist Answer:

“Nobody has ever cared how I felt” is a generalization, because it sounds better in dialogue than “nobody except my dead best friend Cutler has ever cared how I felt.”

Also, because it’s an RPG, there’s going to be a lot of bias towards the importance/relevance of the player. It’s the third affinity dialogue with Danse and the player wants to feel like they’ve become very close with him, so saying “You are the first person who has ever cared how I felt” and horning in “and also my aforementioned dead best friend Cutler” isn’t really what the player wants to hear at this point.

Long Watsonian Answer:

Danse is the least reliable person in the world re: other people’s feelings about him and probably genuinely believes that.

This is the guy who believes his worth as a person is proportional to his worth to the Brotherhood. He actually cannot fathom the idea that somebody could like him or care about him outside of his capacity as a soldier. I don’t believe him at all when he says “nobody” has ever cared about his feelings, especially not when we know about Cutler.

I think some of this comes from our boy’s wonderfully healthy and extensive immersion in the BoS. He sorts his relationships with other people onto two levels: the Brotherhood level, and the *other* one.

The Brotherhood is Danse’s family, but it isn’t the same as a family-family. Camaraderie is encouraged, but there’s a strict chain of command, you follow orders, you can’t get too attached to other soldiers because you’re all at war and could die at any time. You respect others for their skill and talents and honor first, and everything else a distant second. Danse is well-respected within the BoS and seems like a pretty popular guy, but perhaps apart from a few people here or there, these are his coworkers. His BoS comrades care about him the same way he cares about them-- as fellow soldiers, brothers and sisters in arms. It’s not a personal sort of care. It isn’t friendship.

(At least, Danse doesn’t believe it is, but he’s also plainly incapable of noticing when other people DO consider him a friend. This is the guy who’s completely baffled when Haylen seeks personal comfort from him and later stands up for him against orders. There’s probably more people like this, but Danse is completely oblivious to the notion that anybody could possibly like him beyond his role as Paladin.)

The *other* level has only ever included one person: Cutler. The only person who knew Danse before the BoS, and appreciated Danse as himself and not as a soldier. Their bond is irreplaceable to him, and he specifically says that of all the comrades he’s lost over the years, none of them were “a good friend, a friend like Cutler.”

But Cutler was also in the Brotherhood. In the five years (at least) since Cutler’s death, it’s feasible that Danse has begun to remember Cutler more as Cutler the Soldier than Cutler My Best Friend (either to make his loss less painful, or because for Danse, everything eventually ends up going back to the Brotherhood.) Maybe as a coping mechanism it’s easier for him to file Cutler along the same lines as all his other fallen comrades, fellow soldiers who care more about Danse the Soldier than Danse My Friend.

I like to think Cutler wouldn’t agree with him at all. 

And now, some cute headcanons:

Cutler was Danse’s best friend and also the first human person he ever had close contact with after escaping the Institute (and getting his memory wiped.)

They started off as neighbors in the Rivet City market and eventually went into business together, or at least collaborated so closely they were basically in business.

Cutler was the wild party animal to Danse’s levelheaded thinker, and they balanced each other out really nicely. The bad ideas were almost always Cutler’s, but Danse would go along with it to keep an eye out for him.

Danse got promoted faster because of his diligence, but Cutler never held this against him or even let it change the way he interacted with him. They still spent their free time together and went on leave together and outside of supervised command structures, were as close as they ever were.

Cutler joked about getting special treatment once Danse was a Paladin (but never asked for any, because obviously Danse wouldn’t abuse his rank like that.)

Whichever one of you came up with Cutler asking Danse to buy the next round when he came back being his last words to him, thanks a lot, it’s horribly sad and I love it.

I personally don’t ship them or think there was anything beyond deep friendship between them. It didn’t need to be more than that for his death to hurt. Also two men don’t need to be in love or attracted to each other to care about each other to that level.

I picture Cutler as looking like Idris Elba. (Yum.)

[sleepless-in-starbucks]

it’s only been a few hours but i think i will always be thinking about the inscryption ending actually

P03... destroyed before it began, head ripped off, sinking, sinking with you, but maybe the only one who made it out, the only survivor, did he sink or did he swim? how much did he see? the deletions, the gunshots? he had to be stopped. he was the only one saved. where even is he now? does he regret it? anything?

grimora, the kindest of them all, perhaps the sanest, if any of them can be seen as sane. just wanted to play a game with you, something simple, something nice. bury the game and join her. a simple board, a jolly boss- all gone before she could barely start. she knew this would happen. she caused it. she accepted it. but did she want it? no. in the end it doesnt matter. bringer of the end, first to bear it.

leshy. oh, leshy, here from the beginning. evil, dark, cruel in the start. but he always knew it was a game, didnt he? he never really hurt you. no, instead he gave you a game, a wondrous game, one you got to play together over and over. one last time to go. forget the scoring, that’s not important now. you were such an impressive competitor. i remember that card, so strong. you were always such a good player. he makes the most of the last of his time, with you.

magnificus doesn’t want to go. he’s not ready, the game still must go on, he must still go on! he introduces his gameplay to you, a battle, a proper fight, but to no end, overtaken with glitches from the first moment it arrives with no scales to hold its values. still, he fights. he tells you that you can remove the disc and save what’s left. he paints you the moon, the moon from the first final fight. he informs you that the slime wizard has been deleted- wasn’t he your friend? wasn’t he your friend?! it doesn’t matter. he loses the fight, unfinished. he drags himself to shake your hand but never makes it, unfinished. painter of masterpieces, unfinished. all of him is left unfinished.

and then luke. lucky carder, not so lucky. no sin, no crime, no justice. just a game. a search for truth. kaycee. trying to win. trying to do what’s right. corrupted files, corrupted mind, madness growing like mycelium, talking to a game. shot, blood, dead. amanda. end with no answers. end with no glory. face of a hundred subscribers. face of no one, no more.

[aizawaslovebot]

I'm a sucker for angst to fluff stories.. surprise me for some Atsumu? Hehe thank youuu ❤

—nothing and everything

[atsumu miya x gn! reader]

synopsis: miya atsumu was more than content with the life he had with you

warnings: big sad, implied character death, implied accident, mention of the word ass like two times?

words: 1746

—note: so i made a big mistake 🤠 i thought you said angst or fluff so i went crazy with the angst HDJSJSJSN if you want angst to fluff, i can make a part two for this :D sorry agAin!! it was like 4AM when i read the inbox HDJSJSN i hope you enjoy, regardless :)

<- go to hq masterlist | part two for nothing and everyrhing

It was undeniable that Miya Atsumu had it all.

He was skilled in a lot of things, known for his impeccable volleyball plays, and had both looks and intelligence. Atsumu, the former Inarizaki turned MSBY Black Jackals setter, broke all boundaries and surpassed all expectations.

The setter was always content with the life he has lived and couldn’t ask for anything more.

Looking back on the fun memories of him as a setter— specifically the time when Kita was captain— he could never forget one of the people that made him become the Atsumu today.

It wasn’t his twin brother, Osamu, nor was it MSBY’s wing spiker, Sakusa. It was you, Y/N L/N, the former manager of Inarizaki and, now, MSBY, who held a place in Miya Atsumu’s heart.

Funnily enough, you two started on the wrong foot.

One day, while everyone was busy during free practice, Kita came in with a student behind him. Aran gathered the members (kids) in front of Kita and this mystery person, who, mind you, was very very pretty.

“This is Y/N L/N,” Kita introduced and you bowed, “our new manager.”

Atsumu’s eyes twinkled at this very attractive person, who he was sure had liked him too. Sadly, he shouldn’t have gone through with his assumption or at least, he should’ve followed Osamu’s silent warning not to do whatever stupid thing he was planning to do. Much to Aran’s dismay, Suna was encouraging the setter to continue as he held out his phone discreetly to record the whole thing.

Strutting confidently towards you, he wrapped an arm around your waist and said, “Hey, sweet cheeks.”

Regret came faster than the punch delivered to his gut, but Atsumu somehow felt giddy when you visibly staggered from being slightly flustered. He wanted to do it again, but it had to be some other time because Kita was scolding him right now.

Atsumu made it his mission to make you his, but even he wasn’t aware that that was what he wanted. All he knew was he couldn’t wait to fluster you again.

Maybe, through it all, he actually did succeed in both making you flustered and making you his.

Truthfully, you had come to tolerate the Miya Atsumu beneath it all— the one who was quick to analyzation then action; the one who could easily read you and your moods; and the one who never failed to make you happy.

Atsumu always greeted with a soft smile, shouting “Peaches!” when he sees you even from miles away. When asked why he called you that, he says it’s because of the shape of your ass— but Osamu knew it was because he liked your faint peach scent, Atsumu just can’t admit to being soft.

Miya Atsumu was always confident. Atsumu knew he had it all so he never faltered in anything. However, the setter couldn’t even sleep the day before he plans to ask you out— you’ve become such an important part of his life that he didn’t want to scare you at all with his feelings.

Once again, he really should’ve heed with Osamu’s assurance that you liked him back too, “‘Yer both simps for each other, ya know that?”

“Shut ‘yer trap.”

He asked you out successfully and he wouldn’t want it any way else.

A light punch to his shoulder snapped him from his reminiscing. It had actually been years since you got together and Atsumu was more than happy that your relationship stayed strong even as you grew older.

“You wound me, peaches,” Atsumu grinned stupidly, rubbing his shoulder. “Still calling me peaches, ‘tsum?” was your reply instead.

“It’s because I like your a—”

“‘Samu told me the truth, you know,” you giggled as you cut him off from his narration of how he loved your ass. He did love it though, it just happened not to be the actual reason behind the endearment.

Fake gagging could be heard from Bokuto and Hinata, with Sakusa just judging silently. “They’re at it again,” Hinata groaned.

Rolling your eyes, you bonk the now-taller male on the head. “Come on, you three, we’ll be late to meeting the others from Team Japan,” you grinned, but it was too scary that it made them follow, as you pull your dear Tsum to get moving.

No one will deny that you two were made for each other, even Sakusa could vouch for it. You are Atsumu’s anchor and Atsumu is your fresh breath of air. Sure, MSBY had to deal with pranks from the two of you and it was annoying sometimes, especially for the singles, to see a very loving couple. But you two deserved each other and the world.

The car ride was peaceful— a new for the rowdy MSBY quartet and the unfortunate manager. Only you and Atsumu were awake, his hand on your thigh while you had your eyes on the road.

It wasn’t often that Atsumu became soft. Heck, he even uses excuses for his nickname for you. But something in him just wanted to hold your hand and tell you that he loves you more than you could ever know.

So, that’s what he did.

“Peaches,” Atsumu sleepily murmurred, leaning his head on his side to get comfortable, “I love you so much, peaches.”

Miya Atsumu will always succeed in making you flustered, that’s for sure.

“I love you too, ‘tsum.”

You all arrived safely at the National Training Center, with Kuroo and Iwa waving from the entrance. The three energetic MSBY players zoomed off to greet their peers while you and Sakusa kept a normal pace. Sadly, Sakusa went ahead to the bathrooms; probably to clean his hands before meeting the others. So you walked to the meeting room with Kuroo and Iwaizumi instead, talking about nothing and everything.

“Still with the setter, huh?” Kuroo wiggled his eyebrows while Iwaizumi rolled his eyes.

“Still can’t kiss your boyfriend, huh?” was your retort, earning a snort from the trainer and a groan from the promoter. “Why can’t you fight Iwa, instead? Why did you have to remind me? It’s been one week! I just accidentally turned his console off while he was streaming…”

All bickering that was about to happen had stopped when Coach Hibarida arrived. The flurry of players followed him as they took their seat in the room. It wasn’t time for the meeting yet, though, so everyone was casually talking to each other.

It turns out Coach Hibarida needed some important files that you opted to leave at your home with Atsumu because the coach said he didn’t need it. Apologetically, Coach Hibarida even bowed and asked if you could get it now.

You stammered at the sudden gesture from the older and reassured repeatedly that it was fine as you took your keys.

“You four better be on your best behavior while I’m gone,” You warned, particularly at the rowdy trio. Bokuto and Hinata whined but Atsumu was uncharacteristically quiet.

“‘Tsum, you okay?” You whispered, squishing his face with both of your hands.

If he were to be honest, something about today made him feel on edge. Red alarms were going on in his head now that you had to rush back home to get some files. He wanted you to stay here.

“Can you not go?” Atsumu asked, though both of you knew how important those files were.

“I’ll be back, ‘tsum. Love you,” You kissed him, not minding the fake gagging from the other three.

“Mhmm… I love you, peaches.”

You promised Atsumu.

You’ll be back.

Right?

It was an understatement to say that Atsumu was anxious after you left. He was beyond restless with how long it took you to arrive back to his side.

He didn’t even mind when his phone disturbed the meeting. Atsumu was just happy to get some sort of assurance that you were safe, seeing that it was your face that appeared on the screen.

“Peaches! You’re taking too long,” Atsumu laughed, although everyone knew it was off.

“...Peaches?”

“Is this Miya Atsumu?”

Why was it not your voice?

Why was the background so noisy?

Why weren’t you the one who answered?

“Sir, Y/N L/N got into an accident.”

The room fell to silence, curious and worried that one of their setters sat frozen to his seat as tears ran from his eyes. Kuroo, who happened to overhear the call because he sat beside Atsumu, rushed to Coach Hibarida to excuse himself and the shocked male to rush to your location.

Atsumu and Kuroo went out immediately, with the promoter choosing to drive for the both of them because he knew it was dangerous if Atsumu had to go by himself. The meeting even had to be postponed as the rest of the Jackals followed Kuroo’s texts, with Iwaizumi driving for them.

Miya Atsumu was always confident. Atsumu knew he had it all so he never faltered in anything. The only times he had been nervous were because of you; when he first met you, when he asked you out, and when he even bought a ring for you the other day.

But he didn’t like this feeling. He didn’t like the dread that came with his nervousness.

Atsumu almost bawled then and there when he saw your state. You’ve always been strong; stronger than Atsumu will ever be, and he has always loved you for that. So it hurt to see you like this.

All Atsumu could do right now is cry and wish and wish and wish that you’ll be okay.

You’ll be okay, then he’ll be okay too.

It was undeniable that Miya Atsumu had it all.

He was skilled in a lot of things, known for his impeccable volleyball plays, and had both looks and intelligence. Atsumu, the former-Inarizaki turned MSBY Black Jackals setter, broke all boundaries and surpassed all expectations.

The setter was always content with the life he has lived and couldn’t ask for anything more.

But as the heartbeat slowed down and became silently deafening, he was willing to give up everything he had, has, and will have just for one more minute. One more minute in exchange for everything that made him happy, because you’ll always be the source of his happiness and hope.

Now, Miya Atsumu will never be content with the life he will have to live without you.

And it was now undeniable that he had just lost it all.

—reblogging would help a lot! thank you for reading ❤️

[maxineswritingcenter]

You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader part 6

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

To say that I was doing well after I left Derek’s house would be a lie. I really don’t understand why it hurts so much. We barely knew each other outside of a few encounters. Was it just me that felt the aching in my chest? I want to believe that he felt the same thing, but that seemed selfish. That I wanted him to miss me. That I dreamed of him showing up at my window and begging to see me. But that wouldn’t be real, that was a fantasy. Derek would never act like that. That was just my fantasy. 

I promised Stiles I wouldn’t get romantically involved with Derek, but it was more painful than I have ever imagined. 

-

I sat in Coach Finstock’s office while the school day went on. Relacing the netting on the crosses that were used in case any of the players broke their own. The repetitive movements were mind numbing so it was probably for the best. I could zone out and not think about Derek. 

Tonight was parent teacher conferences for some students who weren’t doing well academically, both Scott and Stiles were a part of that list. But who could blame them? One of them was a werewolf and the other was friends with the aforementioned werewolf. The weeks seemed to run together, it didn’t even feel like autumn yet, but we were halfway to winter. 

I had stayed away like I promised. The only times I even heard about Derek was from what Scott told Stiles. They were both planning on finding the alpha and taking him down together. That would be good for him. Good for both of them. I have been feeling so many emotions since then. A lot of anxiety and anger. But they never felt like my own. I sighed and rested my eyes for a minute, the repeated movements slowing my brain down enough to sleep on Coach’s desk. 

The man in front of me was badly burned, one side of his face was pink and muddled, much of his hair was burned on that side. 

“I need your help.” Derek’s voice echoed, “If you can hear me, I need you to give me a sign. Blink. Raise a finger. Anything. Just… Just something to point me in the right direction, okay?” The man, his Uncle Peter, stayed in the same position. 

He sighed, “Someone killed Laura. Your niece, Laura? Whoever he is, he’s an Alpha now… but he’s one without a pack, which means he’s not as strong. I can take him. But, I have to find him first.” Still no response. 

“Look, if you know something, just give me a sign. Is it one of us? Did someone else make it out of the fire?” 

Still getting no response, he became agitated, “Just give me anything! Blink! Raise a finger! Anything!” He growled, reaching for the man, “SAY SOMETHING”!

“Hey.” I jolted at the sound of Finstock’s voice. He stood in the doorway of his office. 

“You alright, kid?” He asked, his eyes went from my face to the crosse that I was aggressively fixing the net on. What was that? Was I… seeing what Derek was seeing? No, that was impossible. Insane even. 

“Uh, yeah. I’m fine.” I went back to relacing, tugging the knots taut and reaching for a lighter to burn the ends of the string so they wouldn’t unravel. 

“Do I need to kick his ass?” He asked, his large eyes looking a little more crazy than usual. He was trying to seem threatening, but I wasn’t threatened by his booming voice and looks anymore. He was alluding to someone not treating me right but it couldn’t be further from the truth. 

I chuckled a little, “No. It’s not his fault. He’s going through a lot right now.” I stood up and placed the crosse in the spare locker with the rest of them, “Besides, I probably shouldn’t be dating considering the last guy I was dating murdered my parents and tried to murder me.” The humor was dark, but what a way to cope. 

“Any news on that guy?” He stood up straight, walking to his desk. 

“Nope. I think he skipped town. He’s the feds' problem now.” 

“Does Stiles want to be a doctor?” He changed the subject, he was looking at a paper in his hand. 

“Uh… Not that I know of.” I shrugged. 

“Because he wrote a detailed history of male circumcision on his economics test.”

-

I got out late, well past the time the student teacher meetings were over. Filing records, grading a couple things for Finstock and ordering more pearls for the upcoming games since we were running low. These days really run together, especially when you’re trying to forget most of the year that happens. 

Speaking of happening, was I really seeing the same thing Derek could? It didn’t make sense. They were just random dreams. Like the one the other day where Derek was speaking to this woman about how she didn’t kill his sister. That was just a dream. But… Why could I feel sadness? Sadness, guilt and pain.

I got home, seeing that Stiles’ Jeep was nowhere in sight meaning that he was off to do more werewolf nonsense with Scott. I trusted Scott to keep him safe, but that didn’t mean I wanted Stiles running around where there was an alpha on the loose. 

That night I made dinner, ate, saved two plates for Uncle Noah and Stiles and sat in the living room. They were running a story on another body that had been found. A bus driver killed in an animal attack. They were calling it a mountain lion. A mountain lion was more likely than a werewolf normally. But here we are. Officially werewolf capital of the world. I turned off the TV and laid back on the cushions, closing my eyes. Maybe a couch nap would relax me a little, it would kill my back in the morning, but I would be able to tell when Stiles came home. 

Scott and Stiles were walking towards me across the school lawn, playfully pushing each other. 

“I’m gonna kill both of you.” Derek’s voice said, “What the hell was that? What are you trying to do, attract the entire state to the school?” He was frustrated and angry, but also a little scared. Finding the alpha is what he needed to do, at the same time though, this person got the jump on Laura. 

“Sorry…I didn’t know it would be that loud…” Scott said sheepishly. 

“Yeah, it was loud… And it was awesome!” Stiles cheered. 

“Shut up.” Derek barked.

“Don’t be such a sour wolf.” Stiles mocked. 

“What’d you do with him?” Scott asked, looking around me. 

“What?” Derek asked, I turned to see an empty backseat, “I didn’t do anything…” I saw Scott and Stiles’ eyes widen as pain exploded through my back. Blood gushed from my mouth as I was lifted up. I was coughing and choking on my own blood. Pain and fear were running through me, my heart pumping so quickly causing more and more blood to gush from my mouth. The last thing I saw was the world rushing by me as I was thrown towards the school wall. 

I woke up before I made impact. My heart was racing and my back ached. I reached behind myself awkwardly. The only thing I felt was the raised bumpy scar from my stab wound. So it was just a dream, but it felt so real. So…Was it real? Did I just experience Derek…

I looked up at the clock and saw it was well into the early morning. I got up and made my way upstairs, Stiles’ door was slightly open and there was still light inside. I just went in, panic already starting to build in my chest. Stiles was sitting at his computer, he turned and looked up. He looked like he had a long night. 

“Stiles, is…” I swallowed thickly, “Is Derek d-…Dead?” My lip was trembling. He opened his mouth to answer then closed it.  He avoided my eyes. 

“I really don’t know.” He explained what happened at the school that night. How the alpha attacked them and chased them around the school and that when they got out, Derek’s body was gone. 

“I don’t know if he crawled off somewhere or if the alpha dragged him away before the cops showed up. But I’m pretty sure I won’t have to go back to school until Monday. We tried to blow the alpha up. And we also kinda blamed Derek for it.” 

I shook my head and chuckled, “Nice. Throwing a dead man under the bus, after all he’s done for me.” 

“It wasn’t my idea!” He shouted in a hushed tone, “We thought he was dead for sure. But now I don’t know. Besides, we couldn’t give up the big secret to a hunter’s daughter, a dick, and Lydia who has been through enough already.” I nodded and left the room. He called after me but I couldn’t be in the room anymore. Just… they could have blamed anyone. A rabid animal even, but they were blaming Derek. I closed the door and leaned against it, slowly sliding down until I met the floor. My chest felt tight and I wanted to cry. I had cried so much lately I didn’t know if I could. My emotions were running so high and it was so confusing? Why was everything so different? 

-

It was Monday morning and tonight was another full moon, meaning Scott was jumpy and could turn at any moment. The night before they had gone off to “hang” but Stiles was really bad at hiding the alcohol he had taken to get drunk with Scott. 

I was eating cereal at the kitchen table when Stiles came down. He was groaning and definitely hungover. 

“Booze doesn’t pay, does it?” I smiled. 

“You’re more chipper than usual.” He grimaced a bit, holding his head. 

“Not chipper, just really good at fakin’ it.” I went in for another spoonful. He looked away, hearing Uncle Noah coming through the kitchen on his phone. 

“We are watching his family’s house. Maybe he’ll wind up there?” Uncle Noah looked up, seeing Stiles, “Give me a second.”

“Don’t you have a test to get to?” He asked. 

“What’s going on? Did you find Derek yet?” Stiles asked, more pep in his voice. 

“I’m working on it. You go take your test.” He said firmly. 

“All right, Dad, listen to me-” Stiles stood up.

“Go!” He shouted, I had never heard him shout before. 

“This is really important! You have to be careful tonight, okay? Especially tonight.”

“Stiles, I’m always careful.”

“Dad, you’ve never dealt with this kind of thing before, okay? At least, not like this.”

“I know. Which is why I brought in people who have. State detective. Go take your test.” Stiles grumbled but grabbed his book bag and left the house. Uncle Noah sighed and went back to his phone call as he followed Stiles out the door. 

-

Later on in the day, Stiles texted me. He probably shouldn’t be, especially with his test. 

STILES: Scott had a panic attack about Allison. He said he might kill someone.

I sighed, my thumbs dancing over the phone screen. 

(Y/N): Then we’ll chain him up so he can’t get out. I’ll pick up some chains at the hardware store.

-

After a stop at the hardware store, I got to the lacrosse fields where Coach Finstock was looking over a list. 

“How’s the pink-eye epidemic?” I asked. He rolled his eyes. 

“Real good, half of my players had to go on the bench. Goddammit, Greenberg.” I looked over the list. 

“Who’s Bilinski?” I squinted at his sloppy writing. 

“That one.” He pointed his pen towards Stiles. 

“You put Stiles on the first line?” I smiled, perhaps my subtle hints had worked. 

“Yeah, and we made McCall co-captain.” 

I blew air out of my mouth, “I’m sure Jackson shit a brick.” 

He shook his head, “Yeah, he’s not taking it well.”  I shrugged and made my way over to the bench where Scott and Stiles were in the middle of a conversation. I didn’t join, just listened in. 

“Yeah, she likes you. She’s totally into you.” Scott smirked. Stiles grinned, clearly excited. The She in this scenario could be none other than Lydia Martin. But there was something about Scott’s tone that threw me off. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lydia making her way to her seat in the bleachers, pulling out a compact mirror and fixing her lipstick. I didn’t want to believe that Scott would do that to his friend, but the facts were pointing towards it. 

Practice seemed to be going well, that is until Scott got pushed over during a practice run. I could practically feel his anger from across the field. 

“All right, you’re up, big boy! Let’s go!” Coach called. Scott retaliated this by knocking into another player, and sending him hard on his back. I winced, intaking a breath through my teeth. 

“That’s it, McCall! That’s the spirit! You earn it! Earn it, McCall!” Coach grinned. Maybe this is why we had so many players on the bench. Coach could see victory when Scott played. It was Stiles' turn on the offensive against Scott. With the full moon so close, I don’t think their friendship would do Stiles any favors, he shoved Stiles away just as hard and fast as the other player. Each time he got a goal. The next player, Danny, also was a victim of werewolf rage since Scott hit him in the face, sending him to the ground. I grabbed Coach’s whistle and blew it, calling for the play to pause. 

I jogged up to Danny and knelt down, some other players surrounded as well. 

“Danny, can you hear me?” He nodded slowly, holding his bleeding nose. I stood up, “Take him to the bench guys.” I walked back over to Stiles and Scott. 

“Everybody likes Danny. Now everybody’s gonna hate you.” 

“I don’t care.” Scott said smugly. Stiles shook his head and went back to the benches. 

“What the hell is your problem? You make co-captain and it goes to your head.” I shoved his shoulder. He breathed out, his eyes glowed yellow 

“You don’t want to mess with me right now.” 

I narrowed my eyes, “Is that a threat?” He smirked, his eyes going up and down my body. 

“It could be.” I looked at him in disgust. 

“First Lydia and now me? You’re a really shitty friend, Scott.” I made my way back to Stiles who was staring back at the bleachers. Jackson and Lydia were talking. 

“He did it.” He whispered. I squeezed his arm lightly. It was going to be a long night.

-

That night, Stiles and I went to the McCall’s house to get prepared for the full moon. Stiles carried a duffle bag to the best of his ability, even though it had the steel chains  and locks I had bought. One of the only reasons I came was so if I needed to I could get him out quickly. The other was because I didn’t know how he would react to the situation with Lydia. Stiles unlocked the door and went inside. Did Mrs. McCall know he had a key?“

Scott?” We heard her call. Mrs. McCall turned the corner and saw us in the hallway. She was in her scrubs, probably going in for a late night shift.

“Stiles.”

“And (Y/N).” I waved.

“Ah.” Her eyes went to Stiles' hand, she pointed, “Key.”

“Oh, yeah, I had one made.” Well, that answers that question. 

“That doesn’t surprise me. It scares me, but it doesn’t surprise me” And then, like a buffoon, Stiles dropped the duffel bag with a heavy thud. 

“What is that?”

“Uh, school project.” He lied. Mrs. McCall, who either believed the lie or just wanted to change the subject, asked: “He’s okay, right?” 

“Who, Scott? Yeah, totally.” Stiles lied.

“He just doesn’t talk to me, not much anymore. Not like he used to.” She said somberly. I could only imagine that’s how my mom felt when I went into high school and into a phase where parents were uncool. 

“Well, he had a bit of a rough week.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I get it. Yeah. Um, okay. Uh, be careful tonight.” 

“You, too.”

“Full moon.” She looked out the window. Stiles and I stiffened. 

“What?”

“There’s a full moon tonight. You should see how the ER gets. Brings out all the nutjobs.” 

“Oh.” He breathed out, both of our shoulders dropped.

“Yeah…” She said awkwardly. 

“Right…”

“You know, it’s, um, actually where they came up with the word "lunatic.”

-

We opened the door to Scott’s room. Stiles dropped the duffel and turned on the lights. We both jumped when we saw Scott sitting in his computer chair. 

“Oh my god.” I put a hand on my chest, trying to catch my breath. 

“Dude, you scared the hell out of us. Your mom said you weren’t home.”

“I came in through the window.” he said blankly. Stiles and I shared a glance. 

“Okay, um, let’s get this set up.” Stiles bent down to get into the duffel bag that was near the radiator, “(Y/N) got the heavy duty stuff.” I kept my distance from Scott, staying right by the door, ready to grab Stiles and book it. 

“I’m fine,” Scott said, causing us both to stare, “I’m just gonna lock the door and turn in early.” We all knew a door wouldn’t stop him, he had other plans in mind. 

“Are you sure?” Stiles asked, “Cause you got this kinda serial killer look goin’ on in your eyes. I’m hopin’ it’s the full moon taking effect cause it’s starting to freak me out.” 

“I’m fine.” Scott repeated, “You should both go home.” 

“Alright, we’ll leave.” He stood up then stopped, clearly trying to put his back up plan into motion, ‘Well would you at least look in the bag and see what we bought? You know, maybe you use it, maybe you don’t.”

“Just in case you’re feeling a little anxious.” I smiled. Scott got up and walked to the duffel bag. He bent down and pulled out the thick, metal chains. 

“You’re thinking I would put these on? Chain me up like a dog?” He snarled and dropped the chains. 

“Actually, no.” Stiles quickly pulled out a pair of handcuffs from his pocket and slapped him on Scott’s wrist, chaining him to the heater. I grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him away when Scott lunged. 

“What the hell are you doing?!” Scott growled. 

“Protecting you from yourself.” Stiles sighed and glared, “And giving you payback. For making out with Lydia.” And there it was. Maybe I should have checked the bag for other items he bought. He went downstairs, leaving me and Scott in the bedroom. 

“(Y/N), uncuff me!” He struggled. 

I shook my head, “Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. I don’t have the key.” 

He lunged and growled, causing me to jump. I looked away, embarrassed that I was showing him that I was afraid. But I was afraid. I’ve known this kid practically his entire life and he was turning into a completely different and dangerous person. 

“You like that? Hmm?” He hummed suggestively. I shook my head, talking to him was probably going to just make things worse. Thankfully, Stiles had come back…with a dog bowl.

“I brought you some water.” He said, pouring water from a bottle into the bowl and setting it down in front of Scott.

“I’M GONNA KILL YOU” Scott roared and threw the bowl at Stiles.

“Stiles…” I whispered. The situation was getting dangerous. 

“You kissed her, Scott! Okay? You kissed Lydia. And that’s my…The one girl that I have-'' Stiles shook his head, “You know, for the past three hours, I’ve been thinking it’s probably just the full moon, you know? He doesn’t even know what he’s doing and tomorrow he’ll be back to normal. He probably won’t even remember what a complete dumbass he’s been. A son of a bitch. A frickin’ unbelievable piece of crap friend.”

“She kissed me.” Scott interrupted. 

“What?” Stiles looked so betrayed. 

Scott grinned menacingly, “I didn’t kiss her, she kissed me.” Stiles glared and walked out of the room, I followed behind. 

“She had her hands all over me, she would have done anything I wanted! ANYTHING!” Scott’s voice rang through the house. Stiles paced back and forth outside the door. 

“Stiles?” Scott called through the door, “Please let me out. It’s the full moon, I swear! You know I wouldn’t do any of this on purpose. Stiles, let me out. This is starting to hurt. You said it, Stiles, it’s the full moon. It’s Allison breaking up with me. It’s not just a break, she broke up with me. It’s killing me! I’m feeling hopeless. Just let me out.” Stiles paused, looking towards the door. I looked him in the eye, shaking my head. 

“He’s just trying to make you feel bad.” 

Stiles nodded, “I can’t.” He called. 

“No! No no no!” Scott shouted, followed by screaming. And then silence. Stiles opened the door, Scott was gone. Only broken handcuffs remained. I grabbed a set of chains and started going downstairs. 

“Stiles, stay here.” 

“(Y/N)!” He called, grabbing my arm before I went out the door. 

“Stay put.” I glared, shutting the door behind me. Scott was a sweet kid normally. But if I needed to keep Stiles safe and if that meant knocking out a couple of his teeth then I would. I went around back to his window and followed the path of broken grass into the woods. I gripped onto the chains tightly, ready to swing if I needed to. My plan had been to knock him out and chain him to a tree. Not sure how well that would work though. 

I stopped in a clearing, having lost the trail. Behind me a twig snapped. I’ve always been an act first, ask questions later in these situations. I swung the chain, cracking Scott across the face. My eyes widened at the state of him. Like Derek, he had coarse hair growing down his cheeks, the bridge of his nose was scrunched up and appeared more animal like, his brow bone protruded. His jawline though? Still weird. 

Scott’s head had swung to the side with the chain, he looked back slowly, and glared as he spit blood onto the ground. The scrape on his cheek healed almost immediately. 

Ha ha, I’m in danger.

“Scott.” I said cautiously, taking a slow step back, “You know me. I’m your friend.” He wasn’t moving closer, but he also hadn’t stopped looking at me with his glowing yellow eyes like I was food. 

“So, uh, you blow off your steam. Do some running, clear your head, that good stuff. And I will see you tomorrow. Okay?” I smiled nervously, he didn’t answer, “Okay.” Now it was time to run since I had gotten myself a decent head start. I turned and ran, hearing a roar and footsteps behind me. I threw the chains back over my head, hoping to trip him or hit him in the head. That didn’t seem to do much since he didn’t slow down. 

All at once I was body slammed to the ground and turned on my back. Scott was sitting on top of me, leaning down he roared loudly in my face. His large pointed canines shone in the moonlight. 

I screamed, shoving and kicking at him, “SCOTT! SCOTT PLEASE!” He thrusted a clawed hand down towards my chest that I barely caught. He seemed slightly confused, but pushed down. I whined, using everything I had keeping his sharp claws from my chest. I couldn’t even breathe.

“Scott, please don’t hurt me.” I begged through my teeth. He roared again, raising his other arm to strike when something flashed across my vision. Whatever it was, it knocked Scott off of me. I gasped for air, my lungs and  muscles were screaming at me. The two began to fight, growling and snarling. I sat up, scrambling to get out of the direction of the brawl. I couldn’t see much in the dark since the clouds had covered the moon, but whoever it was got Scott on the ground, roaring down at him. The other stood up straight just as the moon’s light peaked through. And there stood Derek Hale - tall, proud, and very much alive.

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

Read part 7 here!

Oh boy, who could have seen that coming? Anyone who’s seen season 1, that’s who. 

Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are appreciated!

Comment below or message me about being on the taglist :)

You Saved Me tag:

@nyotamalfoy

@fruitloopzzz

@babygirl-angel-love

@aestheticeggs (hi eggy)

[ready-to-obeyme]

I see that ask is open! I've been thinking what if MC decides to stay with the demons forever, after all she's only human, years will pass and she will keep aging, losing her beauty and becoming more fragile, while the demons will remain young and handsome. Can you write about MC sharing this concern with the demon brothers and how they'd react to it ❤️ "Would you still love me when I'm old and ugly"

Scenario: “Would you still love me when I’m old and ugly?” + Demon Brothers Reactions

//the theme of devotion and dedication ALWAYS has me emo; I ADORE this prompt, so thanks for sending this in! I’m a real sucker for the immortal/mortal relationship conflicts 

let me know what you think! :)

starts singing Young and Beautiful by Lana del Rey 

Note: I kept it gender neutral “you” as per usual! 

--

Lucifer

“Yes,” Lucifer says to you, taking your hand and pressing his lips to your knuckles. “And I’ll continue to love you even after. Death will not stop me from loving you, let alone how your face may change-- though I dare say I’d still think you’d be beautiful regardless.”

Calm as ever on the outside-- especially if you’re evidently concerned about this. He won’t hesitate to ensure that you know that his love goes far beyond what you look like on the outside or to how capable/strong you are. Lucifer refuses to hear anything self-deprecating, and he will NEVER let you doubt that he loves you as you are. (He’s real good at smooth-talking AND dirty-talk-- don’t test him or do.) Body worship probably becomes more of a regular thing because he really does adore every part of you because they make you you.  

When he’s alone with his thoughts though, his mind tends to wander and it scares him to think that one day he will lose you, but it makes him cherish the times you do have together even more. He surprisingly is indulgent to a lot more of your whims thereafter and tries harder to not let work get in the way of being with you. If anything, this concern of yours has reminded him that time is finite for you, so he’d like to be able to spend the rest of your life with you, if you’d allow it. 

-

Mammon

Mammon is actually a little indignant and goes on a tangent because the thought of even not being in love with you is just… not possible to him. Who cares if you’ve got a few wrinkles? Who cares if you need a little help walking? You’re still going to be the person he fell in love with.  

“First of all,” he starts, fuming, “you’re never gonna be ugly to me-- so get that squared away, alright?” 

“Secondly, when you’re old, I’m gonna be there for you. No matter what!” 

“Thirdly,” he says, surprisingly serious. “there’s nothin’ in all three realms that would make me fall out of love with ya. I’m crazy for you, can’t you see?”

He’s definitely a little embarrassed after that outburst (especially if that was in public), but he needs to let you know that you’re important to him. He can’t have you think for a second that his feelings will waver the moment something changes-- he’s your first man FOR LIFE. Forgive him for being a little extra the next few days; he’s going to compliment you for everything you wear and probably get into squabbles with anyone who says otherwise-- but he’s doing it for your sake so you feel a little warm. If you were ever feeling sad about that concern, the thought is gone from your mind when Mammon is there looking at you like you hung the moon and stars.

-

Leviathan

I think this question may come as a surprise to him, and it does make him a little flustered. It’s never crossed his mind that things would eventually change because you’re a human because, to be quite honest, he’s focused on time he spends with you in the now. But he supposes he does see some changes. Your hair grows, your appearance changes as you age… but did you think he wouldn’t love you when you grow old or that he won’t find you loveable when you’re older because his anime characters won’t age? That’s probably the first thing in his head (and yours if that is a concern of yours), and he’s quick to drop whatever he’s holding or playing and grasping onto your hands.

“Of course! Of course I will! I told you, didn’t I? You’re going to be my Player 2-- now and forever!” 

“And you’re not going to be ugly,” he tells you fervently. “Never. Not possible. Not to me.”

He’ll try his best to comfort you if you are feeling down about it though, probably using comparisons and how seasons may change a character but that doesn’t mean Levi loves them any less-- which applies to you even MORE. How could he not love you? For whatever enjoyment he gains from anime and games, there is nothing better than to know that you’re by his side, which means that he’s going to be by YOUR side too when you need him. If life was a co-op, he’d like to be your Player 2 for as long as he can. 

Satan

“Of course I will. Nothing will change how I feel about you.”

Satan’s answer is straight-forward, calm, and almost immediate-- which is sweet, like there was never a question in his mind that his feelings will remain the same no matter what happens. If you’re feeling a little down about it though, his eyes will soften and he’ll pull you into his arms and kiss your forehead. “I’m in love with who you are on the inside-- not that I don’t think you’re beautiful,” he fumbles, embarrassed but pushing through to make sure his thoughts were known to you. “But I fell in love with everything about you: your laugh, the way you wake up in the morning, how your hands fit in mine… And these things just don’t change.” 

“And even when your mind wanders,” he says, kissing your brow. “I’ll love you still.” 

No matter how many times you bring this up, he always patiently lets you vent to him. He can’t possibly imagine how it must feel to grow old and change in such a small (to him) amount of time, but if anything he’s ready to understand how you feel so he can help you feel better-- as much as he can. Satan does probably push the thought of you growing old to the back of his head-- not because he doesn’t think he’ll love you (definitely not, he’ll stay around you as long as you love him), but because the thought of losing you to old age is not something he’s thought of much.

(That’s something he’ll have to reflect on on his own.) 

-

Asmodeus

Asmo probably makes jokes like him being beautiful enough for the both of you, but I think in reality, he takes your concern quite seriously. No matter how much he may take pride in his own appearance and the beauty of others, it is you who he’ll love regardless of how old you grow. He genuinely believes that you truly are beautiful, no matter the number of wrinkles on your hands or the crows feet by your eyes. In fact, he thinks they’d be lovable on you. As you change he’ll find that there is something lovely about those changes because now there are other sides of you he’ll get to love and discover. 

“Don’t you know true beauty is on the inside?” He’ll tell you, holding you to his chest and stroking your hair. 

From then on, he takes offense if anyone negatively points out any signs of aging on you (“Aging is not a bad thing, honey-- it makes you look more distinguished”) and discourages you from hiding your blemishes and wrinkles if you think they make yourself less appealing to him but would help you if you would like to do a little make-up. (He definitely would make love to you just to show you eagerly that you are still attractive to him.)

-

Beelzebub

He doesn’t understand at first. He knows how short the human lifespan is-- certainly, in the back of his mind-- but the idea that you could become even weaker and more fragile than you already are as a human is-- to say it simply, terrifying. If you’re asking this truly out of concern, he will undoubtedly come up to you and hold both of your hands in his gently.

“I’ll love you no matter what. And I think you’re beautiful no matter how old you may look-- you’re still you.”

He’s a little scared to think how easily you could get hurt, so he makes sure to be extra careful with his strength and learn how to support you when you need it. Beel will protect you as you grow older, be patient when you are no longer spry, and help you when your body fails you. He is (physically) the strongest in the family, so he takes it as a personal mission to make sure he takes care of you when you no longer can. He probably takes extra note to compliment you every time you ask for his opinion, and will continue to tell you you look beautiful everyday-- even if you aren’t wearing anything special-- just to remind you that he thinks you’re beautiful inside and out. 

-

Belphegor

“If all you want to do in the future is sleep, I’ll do that. If all you can do is be with me, then that’s fine too. I’ll love you anyways.”

A little alarmed when you address this concern to you, but you wouldn’t have known. He keeps a pretty calm veneer but much like his brother, the thought of losing you so soon is terrifying. Regardless of how scared he may feel thinking about the day that you’ll one day grow old and pass away in this short human life span of yours, whatever he said was the truth: it doesn’t matter to him if you’re old or if you’re ‘ugly’ (as if that would ever happen in his eyes), because he promised to protect you and to be there when you needed him-- and he takes that promise very seriously. (Till death do us part.) 

Belphie clings to you a little tighter when you sleep together and follows you around a little more for the next few days, and makes it a point of making sure he wouldn’t care how much you change your appearance. If anything, this makes him fall even more in love with you. He’s always loved humans and the fact they make the most of their lives despite how short they are-- and he want to make sure that every second of your life is the best he can give you.

[wicked-mind]

Spark: Chapter Three

Summary: Y/N and Damon were apart of a Hydra experiment for over a decade until they escaped. When power outages through towns along with bodies of murdered Hydra agents start popping up across the country, Y/N becomes Bucky’s mission.

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Bits of violence, memories of torture

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Chapter Three - We all need to talk

Bucky managed to watch the rest of the movie unmoving, not wanting to disturb Y/N who was still sleeping on his shoulder. He watched the credits roll along the TV screen, reading each line as they passed. He didn’t want to move, he didn’t want to ruin the moment he was stuck in. Bucky felt almost normal for the first time in his long life as he sat there on the couch with Y/N asleep on his shoulder and a dog on the other side of him. But he quickly snapped out of his daydream when Sarge perked his big fluffy head up, “What’s up, boy?” Bucky asked the dog in a hushed tone as to not disturb Y/N.

Sarge stood on the couch, looking at the curtain covered window behind Bucky for a moment before jumping off the couch and going to the door. Bucky quickly noted that the hair on Sarge had stood up, making his brow furrow. He scooted himself up and away from his spot on the couch, gently shifting Y/N into a laying position without disturbing her sleep. Bucky walks to the window and moved the curtain to peak out, seeing a black van sitting outside. The owner of the van must’ve seen him peaking out the curtain as well because the van sped away down the road. It was at that moment Bucky decided he would be spending the night at Y/N’s house, concerned about who was in the van and what could’ve happened to Y/N if he wasn’t here. He walked over to Y/N’s DVD collection, finding the second movie of the Alien series and popping it into the DVD player as quietly as he could. He pushed play on the remote before taking Sarge’s spot on the couch, looking over at Y/N as she slept soundly before returning his focus to the TV knowing he wouldn’t be able to get much sleep tonight.

It was early morning hours, about 4:30 AM, when Y/N woke up with a gasp. Even the presence of Bucky couldn’t keep her nightmares away. She sat up, staring wide-eyed at Bucky as if she didn’t recognize him. She fell off the couch in an attempt to get away from him, scooting herself into the corner of the living room and curled up into as much as a ball as she could facing away from him. Sarge, knowing what was happening, kept his distance as to not be shocked but close enough that he could whine gently at Y/N to calm down.

The sudden jolt of Y/N waking up made Bucky jump as well, he wasn’t expecting her to be awake so suddenly. He watched her as she looked at him with terrified eyes, standing quickly when she fell off the couch and scooted away, “Hey, Y/N.” He said gently with his hands up to show he was non threatening, “It’s me… Bucky.” He said as he slowly walked towards her curled up figure.

Y/N looked up at Bucky still wide-eyed, shaking her head quickly, “Please…” She whimpers out, “Don’t take me back… Don’t hurt me…” Tears had started to form in her eyes and started to slowly drip down her red cheeks.

Bucky had never seen someone look so terrified as Y/N was curled up in the corner. It made him angry that something had happened to make her go into a frantic state like this, it was the total opposite of what she was usually like. He kneeled down in front of her, “Nobody is taking you anywhere,” He said, reaching a hand out to touch her, “I promi-“ As soon as he touched her, he felt a jolt of electricity go through his body that made him back away quickly from her. Yup, she was definitely an enhanced human with the ability to create strong currents of electricity. Bucky quickly realized touching her wasn’t going to work to snap her out of it and he would have to try something else, “Okay, no touching.” He muttered, “Hey, Y/N, remember last night? I brought you some soup and we had some drinks together. Then you showed me your favorite movie, Alien. I watched the second one without you, I hope that’s alright.”

Y/N was breathing hard as she looked at Bucky, her finger tips crackling with streaks of blue electricity. She tilted her head slightly at him as he spoke, then looks back to the TV to see the main menu for Aliens on the screen. It slowly started to come back to her where she was and what was going on, but then she snapped her gaze back to Bucky as the electricity from her fingers sizzled away, “Oh my god, Bucky! I’m so so sorry!” She said softly, uncurling herself from the wall and leaned towards him a little, “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

Bucky sighs in relief as Y/N seemed back to normal, not knowing what else he could try if that didn’t work, “I’m alright, just a little shocked literally and figuratively.” He told her, holding his hand out to help her up from the floor and guided her back to the couch where Y/N took a seat. Bucky sat down by her, watching her curiously. At least now he could ask her questions about being an enhanced human and maybe more about how she was tangled with Hydra, “You literally electrocuted me, how is that possible?”

Y/N bit her lip, knowing questions were coming. She sat still on the couch, her eyes flickering between Bucky and her hands, “I don’t know.. It started when I was about ten years old…” She began, watching him for his reactions, “My parents got rid of me after they found out, sent me to a psychiatric facility when I was thirteen because they thought I was a witch or possessed. I got discharged and put into foster care and eventually adopted… It all went downhill from there.” She muttered out the last part, not really wanting to get into it unless he asked her. She didn’t know what she would say. How could she tell Bucky, a guy she was currently having a crush on, that she had been given up by her adoptive family to be tortured for an organization that seemed made up? Y/N didn’t want to sound crazy and scare him away. She chewed on her lip persistently, waiting for him to speak.

Bucky nodded, knowing the story already from the briefing he had before he came into Y/N’s life but it was good to hear her version, “You said don’t take me back… you looked traumatized saying don’t hurt me. What happened, Y/N?” He asks, curious to hear what really happened while she was gone after she fell off the grid. He needed to know more about her and especially more about Damon. He needed to understand how Y/N got mixed up with Damon and why he was murdering Hydra agents.

Y/N sighs, that was the question she didn’t want asked and hoped with just the small amount of information would be enough to suffice Bucky’s curiosity but somewhere inside her she knew it wouldn’t, “When the adoption was finalized and social workers didn’t need to come check up on me anymore, these men with accents took me to Washington. They put me in a cell in a bunker with a silver collar around my neck to steal the electricity I could produce… When they needed electricity to power the facility and their experiments, the collar would have sharp prongs that’d dig into my neck and cause me to create electricity….” She gently touched the scars on her neck from the prongs as she talked about them before continuing, “I was there alone for a long time until Damon and Stefan were put in the cells across from mine, they were brothers. The people who brought me there would take Damon and Stefan away sometimes… One day Stefan didn’t come back and we were told he died as part of an experiment. We were there for ten years together, isolated and alone.” She looked down at the floor where Sarge had came to lay below her, “Damon said they injected him with something that enhanced every ability he had including speed and strength and then he told me they were talking about brainwashing him… I panicked and released a large surge of electricity until the power blew in the facility and Damon and I escaped…” She slowly turned her gaze to Bucky, knowing she must sound insane to him, “That’s why Damon is in Washington, he goes to look for Stefan’s body every year. And ever since we escaped, the people who took me have been trying to get Damon and I back.”

Bucky slowly nodded at the story. He finally had answers as to what happened to Y/N and from the sound of it, Damon was a super soldier like him. He couldn’t help but feel anger and sadness for both Y/N and Damon. He had been in a similar situation before when he was taken by Hydra, turned into a brainwashed super soldier experiment and forced to kill but at least Y/N didn’t have the guilt of murder on her hands, “I’m so sorry that happened to you, Y/N. I’ve been through some similar things…” He thought about his next words carefully before deciding he had to say something true about himself, “I was also a Hydra experiment, Y/N. That’s the people who did those awful things to you.”

Y/N narrowed and her brow pulled together at his words, tilting her head, “You… You were an experiment too?” She repeats his words before her eyes widened slightly, “Is-is that why you’ve been hanging out with me? Pretending to enjoy my presence?” She stood suddenly, taking a few steps away from Bucky, “Are you here to take me back to them or for your own use? Because I’m not a battery! And I won’t ever be a prisoner again!” She shouted towards him, her finger tips starting to spark electricity again.

Bucky quickly threw his hands up in a non threatening manner again at her sudden hostility but he understood where it came from. During the most important years of Y/N’s life, she was taken prisoner, kept isolated away from other people and taught not to trust anybody besides Damon, something nobody should have to go through but yet Y/N came out alive and kind which fascinated Bucky even more, “No, Y/N!” He told her in a stern voice, “I honestly like hanging out with you. I definitely do not work with Hydra in any aspect. I was sent here because somebody has been ripping out Hydra agent’s hearts and snapping their necks which I figure is Damon’s doing. I had to come see if there was a problem and why Hydra was snooping around.” Y/N clenched her jaw a little, her teeth gritting together slightly as she listened to him. But something about the way Bucky was looking at her made her trust him. He had pain in his eyes as well and it reflected the own pain that was inside of her, “Damon was just trying to protect me… They don’t stop, they never do. They’re always waiting around every corner and find me anywhere I go.” She told him, the electricity in her fingers disappearing as she calmed down. She moved back to sit on the couch beside Bucky but continued to watch him carefully.

Bucky felt relief again as Y/N seemed to calm down and her hostility towards him seemed to fade. The last thing he wanted to do was become an enemy towards her and someone she couldn’t trust in her life, “I know, I was chased for a long time too and Hydra made me do awful things.” He sighed, feeling like he had to share his story now to show she could trust him, “In the 19040’s, I was taken by Hydra. They had already turned me into a super soldier, like your friend Damon, but they brainwashed me successfully and used me as a weapon for decades until 2014. I’m 106 years old, doll.”

Y/N’s jaw dropped at Bucky’s words, “Oh my god..” She managed to say before giving him an apologetic look, “I’m so sorry, Bucky. That’s awful. I’m sorry.” She said, reaching out a hand to squeeze his arm without realizing what she was doing. It was just instinct for Y/N to try and be there for others, be kind and Bucky Barnes was no different.

Bucky’s lips curved into a small smile, he couldn’t help it. The way Y/N was instinctively kind made him feel some sort of hope inside him for something better for him. If she could live through the trauma she went through, maybe he could too and come out a better person like Y/N had. Just as Bucky was about to speak, the moment was ruined as Damon strolled on in through the door.

Damon’s eyes flickered between the two, narrowing at the sight. He wasn’t expecting this, he had expected to see Y/N alone curled up with her dog. Then he noticed the dry tear trails on Y/N’s face, causing him to frown and in an instant he grabbed Bucky by the collar of his shirt and slammed him against a wall, “What did you do?!” He growled out at Bucky.

Y/N’s eyes widened as Damon slammed Bucky into the wall, “Damon, stop!” She yelled at him but Damon didn’t back off. She quickly stood, watching it unfold. Bucky used his vibranium arm to grab onto Damon’s wrist, twisting it and pushing him away. That didn’t stop Damon from coming at Bucky again which caused Bucky to land a punch to Damon’s cheek causing him to fall backwards onto the floor.

“Bucky!” Y/N yelled this time, watching as Damon got back up and walked towards Bucky with anger all over his complexion. Y/N got between the two dark haired men before they could make contact with each other again, placing her palms on each of their chests to stop them from getting any closer to each other, “Hey, knock it off or I swear to god I’m going to shock both of you to the point you see tweety birds around your heads.” She turned to Damon, “I’m fine, Damon.” Y/N turned to look at Bucky, taking a deep breath, “I think we all need to talk.”

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