#talking about how I started hating him would require TRIGGER WARNINGS.

[itz-pandora]

There's only one person I truly hate with all my being

[toothachepng]

Kiss me Animal

This has been in my drafts way too long with me very slowly updating it. I haven't written in a long time and this is honestly super self indulgent. I just need more plus size readers with Brian in my life

Warnings- Reader is described to have tits and cunt and is called pretty girl. P in V, praise kink, Brian definitely being ooc and a simp for soft chubby girls, fight me. I think that's it, I tried to make it friendly for all the plus sized girlies to read so if I missed any warnings or unfriendlies just lemme know :3

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

It'd been a long day

A really long fucking day, anything that could have went wrong absolutely did. Brian sighed as he kicked off his boots, the soles making a heavy thunk as they hit the wooden floor. He flopped back onto their old couch, arms resting on top of it as his head leaned back. A hand wiped down over his face as he let out a groan recalling all the events that had occurred today.

It was supposed to be a simple mission really, take out two people and wipe up any evidence the two had gathered. This sort of thing shouldn't have even required all three of them, and yet it was the messiest job they'd done in a long while. Tim triggered the back door alarm which could have worked in their favor if they had known where in the house the victims were, they didn't. A chair got taken to the back of Tim's head collectively knocking him out for a bit. Of all things Toby had to be threatened with was a blow torch, the fire of course freaking him out and causing him to stumble into Brian.

Another groan left the man as he shook his head, cringing at just how clumsy all three of them had been. Of course they did what needed to be done, but the drive back was tense as fuck with the other two being royally pissed off about how everything had gone down.

Brian was over the whole thing, wanting to just let it roll off his back and move on with his day. The blonde lazily sat up, throwing his hoodie off and onto a chair as he walked into the cabins little kitchenette. It was almost a surprise to see someone else there, forgetting for a quick moment that it wasn't just him and the other two men in the cabin anymore. He eyed you as you didn't seem to notice his presence, which wouldn't be the first time for Brian anyways. You'd been here for a few months, the operator unfortunately having taken a liking to you and directing you to their cabin of all areas.

Brian's eyes washed over your plump form, it looked like you had just rolled out of bed, hair unkempt and a loose t-shirt falling off your shoulder. His eyes went lower, a tight lil pair of black shorts were hugging your ass and chubby thighs. He hated those tiny little shorts, though you obviously seemed to love them since you wore them so God damn often. Maybe if you hadn't Brian would have talked to you more, no excuses for his mind or eyes to start wandering, though even he knew that was a lie. The man still couldn't hold conversation with you even when out doing work, and you wore cargo pants for fucks sake.

Brian looked off to the side, not wanting to be a creep as he cleared his throat to get your attention. It seemed like that was always his goal though, not wanting to appear as some sort of creep to you. It annoyed him to no end, he was the smooth talker out of their group, if they had to talk to a victim he was the first to go without a problem.

"Hey, how'd it go?". You didn't turn to face him as he walked up to the counter, pouring himself a mug of coffee. Glancing at your face, you almost looked annoyed with the slight pout and furrowed eyebrows.

"It uh, definitely could've gone better, the other two went out to go cool off from it actually". You looked over to him amused, sipping at your own mug with a nod, eyes slipping down him for a brief second before quickly looking away.

"You alright? Look like you been sleeping all day, and doesn't look like it was a good sleep". He let out a soft chuckle, at the grimace that came over your face with a shake of your head.

"Yeah I'm alright, though sleeping would've been much more accomplishing honestly". You sighed out while setting your mug in the sink. Brian raised an eyebrow at that, more accomplishing?

Watching you walk out of the kitchen, his eyes trailed down once again, before letting out a cough to himself and looking away.

This was usually how it went since you started staying with the three of them. Sure the two of you had held a few conversations late at night on the couch, but you just seemed to hold much longer talks with Tim and Toby, Tim of all people? Brian felt like he was honestly losing his touch. With a sigh he rolled onto his back, thick comforter shifting underneath him as he stared at the ceiling. His body shifted as his mind easily wandered to past images of your body, his hand going over his face at how easily worked up he seemed to be lately. Maybe he just needed a good fuck?

Though, when even was the last time he got laid? Too long apparantly as he groaned trying to remember before slipping a hand down his sweats. He let out a huff as he wrapped a fist around his half hard cock, immediately an image of those tiny black shorts coming to mind.

He swallowed thickly as he slowly pumped up and down, wetting his bottom lip as he imagined your soft thighs spilling out of fabric. How they dug into your flesh when you sat on the couch across from him. He loved how when you sat down the soft skin of your tummy bunched up over your hip and spilled out of whatever bottoms you had on. He let out a low groan, imagining how soft you'd feel against him, thumb running over the head of his cock, smearing the drip of precum over his member.

His head tilts back against the pillow, a soft wet slap being heard around the room. He let's out a grunt, imagining the jiggle of your ass as you ran in front of him, fuck if only co-

Knock, knock knock

Eyes snapped open at the light rap on his door, an annoyed low grunt leaving him as he tucked himself back into his sweats. Trudging to the door and opening it, about to give whoever it was a fuck off.

"H-hey, um sorry I know it's late."

The annoyed look on Brian's face quickly fell, suddenly aware of how his sweats hugged around his crotch he leaned himself away from the door frame as best as he could.

"Oh no don't worry about it, I wasn't asleep anyways. Did you need something?" He smiled down at you as calmly as he could trying to appear as relaxed as he could. He scanned your body as quickly as he could, fuck you had another pair of those damn shorts? Another color but it didn't matter, you were at his door in those tight lil things with a snug tank top on. He gulped slightly as he watched your chest rise and fall, watching how your flesh threatened to spill out over the fabric. How it hugged your soft sides and hips and waist and holy fuck he could see your hard nipples clearly through it.

"You have a bad staring problem, yknow that Brian?."

Hazel eyes snapped back up to your face that held a small smile. Brian felt his face heat up as he coughed into his fist.

"Fuck sorry, could you repeat yourself? Maybe I'm more tired than I thought". Playing it off with a chuckle as he crossed his arms over his broad chest.

You looked up at him with an eyebrow raised, stepping closer to him and into the door frame.

"I'm not that oblivious, you know that right?" Your hand came up to rest on his chest with a playful smile. Brian had to stare at you for a few seconds, feeling the warmth of your hand on his bare skin had his head reeling.

The next few moments were a blur of you getting tugged into the bedroom, big hands gripping at the soft flesh on your hips. Your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him into a kiss had Brian almost melting, pushing you against his door as he felt you up. Surprised as soft lips moved against his own excitedly.

It felt like Brian couldn't touch enough of you, wanting more of your soft flesh to squish between his fingers. A low groan left him as you tugged at his bottom lip, his hand pulling your thigh up to wrap around his hips. A shudder went through him as you ground yourself against his lap.

Lips trailed down your soft jaw and neck, his hands going lower to squeeze at your ass while he sucked just above your collar. The soft whimpers leaving your parted lips every time he sucked on your skin had him grinding himself back against you.

"Fuck pretty girl, don't know how long I've wanted to feel you like this." He pulled away from your marked neck. A hand was brought up to your face and he let out an amused hum at the warmth coming from your cheeks. You let out a little pant before smiling at him.

"I should've shown up at your door late at night a lot sooner then huh? I guess I just didn't ever wanna interrupt your lil one on one times with yourself." You had a sly smile as you scrunched your nose up at him. Brian dropped his head with a slight chuckle, quickly gripping your other thigh and hoisting you up. He let out a laugh at the the yelp that came out of you.

"What a fucking tease, you knew all this time and didn't even wanna help a guy out? Maybe I should just leave you high and dry tonight then." He gave you a serious stare but it was a fucking lie. There was no way Brian was gonna choose not to sink into your soft form and watch you come undone. Annoyingly you seemed to already know that as you smiled at him.

"Just take me to the bed already, we both know thats not happening".

Brian could have said something sarcastic but did as told anyway, sitting on the edge of the bed so you were perched on his lap all pretty. His hands couldn't help but find place on your soft hips, thick fingers sinking into the doughy skin. His fingers found the fabric of your shorts, tugging them down and off of you, a small smirk forming on his lips at the sight of the pretty little thong you had on underneath.

You rested your hands on his chest, gliding them up and down the bare skin before dragging down to the top of his sweatpants.

Brian had to hold back a groan as you shifted against him. A sigh leaving him as you held onto his shoulders, his own hands tugging you closer as you ground into him. Half lidded eyes glanced up to your face, lips parted and your eyes downcast as you watched yourself move against him.

He felt like he was a in a haze as he watched you, hands gripping onto you like they never wanted to let go. He brought a hand up to your jaw, tilting your head so he could kiss your lips. Brian guided your hand back to his sweats, letting you tug them down to let his cock out. A sigh left him through his nose as you got right back to grinding against him, his cock catching on your damp panties every so often. A low chuckle goes through his chest at the sound of your whines, reaching a finger down to tug your panties aside. Rough hands gripped tightly onto your hips, beginning to guide your movements as his cock slid back and forth between your wet folds, the tip of his cock bumping against your clit every so often.

You found yourself on your back suddenly, head sinking down into a pillow as you blinked up at the blonde. It almost seemed predatory how he hovered over you, flushed lips panting as his eyes raked over your form. His hand almost smacks down onto your thigh with how rough he grips it, watching the fat squeeze through his fingers before moving your thighs apart and moving himself inbetween them.

Brian gulped as he watched your chest rise and fall underneath him, the way you looked laying there had his head racing with too many scenarios of everything he wanted to do to you.

"Please?". Just one word had him almost losing it, he'd imagined himself teasing you until you couldn't take it anymore countless times, but right now he couldn't seem to find the patience. Brian has to almost hold back a groan as he grips his cock, pushing it against your wet hole a few times before finally sinking in. The whine that leaves you has him huffing out a laugh as he catches his breath, grip tight on your hips as he lets you adjust.

It's truly a sight to see for Brian, thighs spread open around him, tank top bunched up on top of your soft tummy, the fabric stretched to the side and letting your tits almost spill out. He watched as your hands came up to paw at his chest, a lopsided grin forming on his lips as you mouthed his name. He didn't need anymore than that to start quickly putting into you, a grunt and a pant leaving him every few thrusts.

"Feel so soft under me pretty girl, fuck, just like I imagined." Rough hands squeezed at your thighs and hips, trailing up to your tummy despite the whines leaving you.

"Really don't understand how many times I've thought about fucking this soft cunt, so fuckin warm and tight and so god damn wet. Do you hear the filthy sounds your little cunt is making for me?." One of his hands left your thighs, coming up to grip your jaw in his hand so you could look up at him, smiling down at you like the cocky fuck he is. It felt like words were stuck in the back of your throat as he fucked you, your mouth opening a few times but no more than a moan leaving you. He grins with a harsh pant, hand leaving your jaw as it reaches down to suddenly tug at your nipple, a yelp leaving you.

"Oh I knew you could still talk, come on pumpkin, wanna hear you. Gotta use your big girl words for me."

The way he was talking to you was certainly doing something to you, talking in that sweet loving tone, his words drawn out, and yet it felt like he was mocking you. A louder moan leaves you as he moves to grip one of your thighs, holding it up against his hip so he can fuck into you deeper.

"Come on, tell me how it feels won't you baby?."

Fast pants and whimpers are leaving you before you can finally get your words to work. "S'feels good! Feels good Brian!."

He can't help but almost laugh at how whiny it comes out, rutting into you faster as he leans down against you.

"Aw atta girl, I knew you could do it pumpkin." The whine that leaves you before hiding your face into his shoulder is enough to make him finally laugh. Still gripping onto your thigh he slows down his pace, feeling himself getting worked up just a little too fast. He leans down just a bit more next to your ear, breathy voice the only other thing you can focus on other than his cock.

"You like when I call you sweet lil names huh sweetheart? Can't hide it with the cute sounds you make everytime I call you something. Is that all I need to do to get you to listen and talk to me hm? Call you baby, pumpkin or tell you just how good you are for me?."

Brian was really just rambling at this point, the slow drag of his cock slipping in and out of your warm cunt had his head feeling hazy. He was barely registering the way your nails slowly dug into his shoulders the more he talked.

"Don't worry baby, you can be my good girl every night." Finally leaning back up, he holds your cheek in his hand, taking a deep breath as he picks his pace back up again. He watches tears well up in your eyes, how warm your cheek is against his hand from embarrassment was going straight to his cock. His lips were on yours suddenly, the kiss messy and wet with drool seeping down your lips. Eyes were half lidded, watching the other before Brian pulled away, thumb coming up to swipe the drool back into your mouth. A heavy pant left him as he sunk his thumb into your mouth, resting it on your tongue as he groaned. He kept it there as his thrusts became short and quick.

"Need to feel you cum around me pretty girl, wanna watch you make a complete mess of yourself." Fingers slipped down in-between the both of you, two fingers coming down to your clit and rubbing in slow small circles. The arch in your back had him speeding up his fingers, grin never leaving his face as he watched your eyes screw shut.

"Fu-fuck, I-."

"Go ahead sweetheart, lemme feel you." Just one more sweet little name was all you needed apparently as you let out a whiny moan, thighs shuddering in his grasp. Both hands came to grip your waist as he grunted, quick curses leaving him before he was spilling into you.

Your hand ran over your forehead and layed above you as you panted, staring up at the ceiling as you listened to the blonde pant beside you. You glanced over at him, arm laying over his chest as he seemed to also be in a daze. Watching his Adams apple bob as he swallowed before glancing over at you too. The boyish smile that formed on his lips was enough for you as you smiled back.

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

Comments super appreciated cause I really wanna get back into writing, especially for marble hornets. Also yes this is set in an AU where they work for the operator, I'm sorry but it's easy and I'm dumb for them

[davycoquette]

Writerly Questionnaire

I got tagged back in my own questionnaire (tysm @saturnine-saturneight), so here we go!

By the way, if you see this and feel up to answering it, please do! I’d also love if you tagged me in your response so I can be sure to read it!

Smol trigger warning for mentions of various tough things.

About You

When did you start writing? I’ve been writing since I could hold a pen, quite frankly! As a toddler, I’d draw doodles then scrawl zig zags beneath to represent the “words” of the illustrated story. They became real words as I learned to read. I was never found without a notebook.

Are the genres/themes you enjoy reading different from the ones you write? I read a lot of stuff I don’t think I could ever actually write. My all-time favorite author is Cormac McCarthy, followed by Jane Austen and Jack London. Larry McMurtry is becoming a fast favorite. My stories tend to require less lived experience. I am not well traveled or thoroughly educated, so, while I’m happy to do research, I most often write stuff that requires less expertise. I also write more about gay cowboys than any of the authors named above — at least as far as is publicly known.

Is there an author (or just a fellow writer!) you want to emulate, or one to whom you’re often compared? I have been compared to Chuck Palahniuk, which is enormously flattering (if not deserved!) It’s massively important to me to have my own style/voice, so I don’t want to write like anyone but me… but I would love one day to harness even a modicum of McCarthy’s talent.

Can you tell me a little about your writing space(s)? (Room, coffee shop, desk, etc.) At a desk or coffee shop. The stars must align just so, my mood must be just so, I must have creative juices flowing and absolutely no distractions or particularly strong feelings. (I end up not writing anything more often than not.)

What’s your most effective way to muster up some muse? I wish I knew. Inspiration hits me light a lightning bolt once in a blue moon. Other than that, maladaptive daydreaming watching head movies. Music is an excellent source of muse.

Did the place(s) you grew up in influence the people and places you write about? Absolutely. In a way that reminds me a bit of Donald Ray Pollock, who writes about a pretty bleak and raunchy Appalachia.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing, and if so, do they surprise you at all? Loneliness, self-loathing, self sabotage, addiction in many forms, mental illness, abuse, and suicidal ideation/thoughts/attempts, “taboo” romances (usually sexuality vs time period). Some of these come as a slight surprise; others are no surprise at all.

Your Characters

Would you please tell me about your current favorite character? (Current WIP, past WIP, never used, etc.) It’s Shiloh. I have no idea why. He’s been my favorite since 2018 or 2019. He’s weird as hell but writing him comes effortlessly.

Which of your characters do you think you’d be friends with in real life? Preferably none. They’re kinda awful. In all seriousness, maybe Lou? He’s chill and makes a good listener.

Which of your characters would you dislike the most if you met them? Ruck. We have nothing in common, would have nothing to talk about, and his poor decisions would stress me out. He’s one of my favorite characters I’ve ever written, but I would hate to actually know him.

Tell me about the process of coming up with of one, all, or any of your characters. Just about every one of my favorites started out as a side character meant to garner very little attention. Somehow or another, they demanded to be written — demanded I let their personalities shine. And lo, here they are.

Do you notice any recurring themes/traits among your characters? Mentally ill lonesome addicts.

How do you picture them? (As real people you imagined, as models/actors who exist in real life, as imaginary artwork, as artwork you made or commissioned, anime style, etc.) As real people! Often I’ll pick a model/actor as a template, but they always evolve into a slightly varied appearance from that person in my imagination.

Your Writing

What’s your reason for writing? It feels so compulsory there’s no other option but to write.

Is there a specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating coming from your readers? I like when people tell me what they felt when they read my writing. Whether it’s attachment or hatred aimed at a character, or nostalgia, or just feeling like they were there when the scene took place. Anything that shows they absorbed and enjoyed it feels like the hugest compliment.

How do you want to be thought of by those who read your work? (For example: as a literary genius, or as a writer who “gets” the human condition; as a talented worldbuilder, as a role model, etc.) I want people to think, this bitch loves words. She loves writing. She is a writer.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer? Making people feel endeared to the characters. Realistic dialogue. Getting inside a character’s head.

What have you been frequently told your greatest writing strength is by others? Pacing & setting description. Which is awesome, but I always feel like these things are weaknesses of mine? I’m always iffy about them - pacing in particular. I have no idea how to do it, but I’ve been told I do it well. That said, there are definitely things -I- think I do well that get the most negative feedback/criticism.

How do you feel about your own writing? (Answer in whatever way you interpret this question.) Writing is the only thing I feel I do relatively well. I’m certainly not the world’s best, and I don’t think I’m really ready to be published or anything like that - but I am pretty proud of it. It’s the only thing I feel this way about. I want to show it to people. I wanna talk about it. I love to read what I wrote. It feels gross to say that, but I’m making myself say it anyway, lmfao. I love to see other people feel this way vs anxious or self conscious about their writing.

If you were the last person on earth and knew your writing would never be read by another human, would you still write? Yeah, for sure. I don’t know if I’d write as much fiction, because part of the fun is talking with others about it. But I’d still journal, and I would still imagine stories in my mind.

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely what you enjoy? If it’s a mix of the two, which holds the most influence? I hate this question, wtf Davy. It’s a slight mix. I’ll admit a part of me wants validation from others, but a larger part would rather write what she wants to write than turn it into a chore. Doing something just to entertain others is definitely a chore. My writing is heavily self-indulgent and I think it may suffer a little from that - but it also means when people enjoy it, they enjoy it more. I think it’s the same for any writer who does it this way. When I belonged to a huge online critique group, I edited the life out of a novel I was working on and made it less enjoyable to its biggest fans while trying to net a larger audience. I now know that was a huge mistake, because having a tiny group of people who eat your shit up is way better than having a ton of people read it, approve of it, but ultimately forget it existed because it wasn’t memorable.

[maxmilian-koudelka]

As someone who at one point was a big fan of the podcast Díra, as of late I've felt uncomfortable with how the writers handle/portray certain topics. @holoubek made a post talking about their criticisms, and that's motivated me to make my own post as well (though probably not as well-written and detailed as theirs). And I want to make it clear that I'm not trying to start drama or send hate to the creators or anything, I just want to share my criticisms.

The first example of a topic that's not handled well (to the point where it's actively harmful) is the episode containing blackface. It's played for laughs, but personally I don't find it funny. It came across as super insensitive. There was literally no reason for that scene to be in there.

On a similar note, the episode where Lafka says the n-word because apparently "it's okay, because he became black in that episode" (it is not, in fact, ok). Again, there was no reason for that to be in there other than for the "comedy". That was a choice the creators made. And again, it felt really insensitive and ignorant at best.

As the post by holoubek mentions, there is also the fact the creators don't want to add trigger warnings. This genuinely confuses me. Why would you not add the warnings, when the listeners have shown that they would greatly appreciate that? The only valid reason I can think of is that they're worried about spoilers, but that's not really an issue. TW warnings are usually so vague they don't spoil anything, and even if they did, the mental health of the audience is way more important.

The creators did say that nothing is stopping the listeners from sharing the tw warnings amongst themselves. The issue with this, is that this requires someone to actually listen to the episode first to then warn others. Besides, not all of the podcast audience is part of the discord group, or others fandom spaces where the listeners may or may not share warnings amongst themselves.

However, an easy solution to this, is that the creators could just put them in the description so people who don't want to read them don't have to. Pretty sure someone in the discord group brought this up. Loads of podcasts do this, and it works!

There are other points to be made, for example the irresponsibly handled topics of sexual assault. The user holoubek talks about this as well, and I encourage you to read their post if you haven't already. I want to add to this that there's a scene somewhere where the main characters encourage a guy to kiss his crush, because at the time, they believe this is the only way to break out of a time loop they're stuck in. The problem here is that when the guy says that he needs to get the girl's consent to kiss her, the protagonists brush him off and get annoyed with him for prioritising consent over the time loop. This felt... iffy, to say the least.

I don't have the energy to delve any further into other topics, but I hope that this adds to the discussion in a meaningful way regardless. And once again I want to reiterate that I don't mean this as hate or as an attack to the creators or the fandom, these are just my personal reasons for why I no longer am a fan.

[many-but-one]

EYEWITNESS

⚠️TW: religious trauma, CSA, RAMCOA, descriptions of child death⚠️

Author’s note: This is an intense poem, but is extremely important for me to share as an eyewitness to these atrocities. As the highest level gatekeeper in our system, I witnessed Everything, and was forced to cut my emotions about it away so I could do my job. Yesterday, a mutual on TikTok (The Brigadoon System) posted a video in response to a hate comment on one of our videos, in which they described the emotions about what it’s like to witness child death, and it struck such a chord in me that I actually was able to feel some of these feelings again for the first time in many, many years. It was difficult. Devastating. But also cathartic in a way. It reminded me that I’m not the cold monster I used to believe I was, and that allowing yourself to feel grief can be healing, too.

Please only read if you feel you are able to do so, please heed the trigger warnings above.

This poem DOES end on a good note, but it starts a bit heavy. Please read with caution.

EYEWITNESS

You know what they say about eyewitness reports. How they are often unreliable, how people often focus too much on a certain thing or they are too caught up in the emotions of it all that they mistake brunette hair for black, or black skin for white. Or whatever story serves the highest bidder, whatever story the pigs can scrape out of them to put someone they already hate behind bars.

You’ve all heard that, right?

And maybe it’s true that eyewitness accounts aren’t always accurate, but I’ve always felt like I would be a fantastic eyewitness, so good, in fact, the cops would hate me for how I refuse to stare at the lineup of pictures of black men with dreads or Latino men with tattoos that scare the perfect bottle blonde PTO moms lined up in front of me. They’d hate me for how I’d describe the perpetrator as a white man in a black business suit, I’d note the exact turn the curls in his hair made. I’d let the police know he wore blue eye contacts. I’d tell them not to forget the freckle underneath his right eye, I surely won’t. I could tell them that his dick was 6.75 inches too and that he never shaved, and when they ask me why I know that, I’ll tell them that I could feel him hitting my cervix when I was six years old, and he couldn’t push all the way in. I’ll tell them I used to get his hair stuck under my tongue when he used my mouth like a cunt. I’d let them know he kept his nails clean and trimmed short so that when he gripped at me he wouldn’t leave scratches that would be noticed later.

See, the thing about eyewitness accounts is that emotions are always running high when someone holds a gun to you from the other side of a convenience counter, but luckily for me I cut those away when I was seven, my job description required it, especially after that one cold December night. You know, the really important one everyone talks about all the time. It’s a night that I lament as the one I became god, and so too like god I created the separation between the sky and the land—the inner world one, I mean. Don’t think I’ve gotten cocky, I’m not that much of a sadist.

The sky I created was like spilled ink swelling across a page of parchment, and it held no stars or moon. Instead the black, viscous sky held my grief, it held that singular emotion I could not take that night, the night I was killed three times and what arose from me were sacrificial lambs, a pack of snarling wolves, and a god whose blue eyes were as cold as the winter’s midnight wind. The grief nearly overtook me and so I had to cut him away from me, I placed him in the sky, the one thing that would remain not only above me, but all around me, a place I would swim in every so often and get trapped in like a raptor in a Jurassic tar pit.

The rest of my parts, the children and the tigers and the demons and angels would never know where my grief went, they’d call me cold and cruel, they’d call me a monster, and I’d let them, because I knew they were telling the version of the truth I believed myself. I was a monster for having the ability to cut my pain away from me while they all writhed in theirs like a fly caught in a spider’s web.

For every trauma we took, for every single event I witnessed, the sky would grow larger, darker, heavier. Nobody felt the weight of it except me, the god who resided in it, an Atlas of epic proportions—who experienced everything, witnessed everything, Knew Everything. Omnipresent, omniscient, but not omnipotent. Every December reminded me of that, when I’d find myself on that church floor in my white dress with my limbs bound in prayer. O Holy God, wherest art thou? I’m right here, I’ve Always been here. Shattered over and over like delicate china dolls, those fragment pieces still scream the words I could never say at the time and will never be able to receive an actual answer for.

WHY? WHY? WHY?

The answer that I know you hold in your blackened heart is that you’re a sick and twisted man with sick and twisted followers, who keep the red eyes trained on me for money. Do you really think I’m that fucking stupid, that I don’t know your little games weren’t for a religious cause? They were so you could line your pockets. But at least I’d get a good Christmas present and my dad would get his booze money.

I used to wish that you had killed me, my desire to give up and die was held in a creature called The Nothing, held back by the strongest of my wolf pack, a black hellhound named G’mork wreathed in the fires of Wrath and Vengeance, who holds Hope like a tool of demolition. He held back this immense creature almost as expansive as my grief overhead, and it kept us alive.

It wasn’t until later that I realized how important this would be to me. See, I hated that he existed to keep that desire at bay, sometimes I wish I could tell him to let it free, let it consume us, but our brain was stubborn in keeping us alive.

I now realize that if I hadn’t lived all these years later, I wouldn’t have been able to become the most important eyewitness I’d ever become. The most painful and devastating eyewitness I would ever bear, a witness to monstrosities that cannot ever be truly described, something I wish in my heart of heart and soul of souls that I could have stopped. I couldn’t then.

But maybe now, I can.

I have lived through so many types of torture, the sorts of things that make even my therapist with decades of experience wince and cringe. The sorts of things you can’t even conceive of if you hadn’t seen them yourself.

The first time I watched a child die, she looked like me. It was an accident, and I know this because the men in their black clothes and black masks with their blue eyes peering over and through were swearing and yelling at the one responsible for her death. I never knew her name, but her blonde hair was lighter than mine, and her eyes more of a grey than a blue. Her neck snapped like a gunshot and I froze when her body went limp. The girl next to me, perhaps barely five, screamed. The one on my other side, a girl no older than me, with hair longer than mine and a darker shade of gold than mine, stood stoic, her bright blue eyes barely welling with tears. When they punished the screaming girl mere seconds after the sound had been ripped from her lungs, I copied the older girl out of desperation. I had grown used to cutting out my emotions by now, what was a bit more going to do to me? My inner world sky now held a single star. I named that girl Star in my mind. Her hair was like a halo, fluffy like angels wings. It seemed fitting. I’ll never, ever forget her. I cannot unsee her. I have never been able to grieve her.

Many more stars were added over the course of months and years, a sky full of them, twinkling down upon my system, them none the wiser of who they represented. The girl with the doe-brown eyes, I called her Bambi. The girl who compulsively tore out her hair and was so very tall for being only nine, I called her Willow. They all had nicknames in my mind, all the ones I could see well enough and for long enough to name. For those that I couldn’t, their stars shined the brightest, my grief for them more intense than the heat of a supernova. Nameless stars for nameless girls.

Many of them were named various shades of colors, after what they were wearing, or the color of their skin or hair. Most often I used the colors of their eyes, something I almost always saw. Something I never looked away from, even in their final moments when I wanted to look away.

I made a promise to my first star, that I would never look away. Looking away meant punishment anyway, but even if it didn’t, I wouldn’t. I may never know their real name if they even had one, but I would know them by the color of their eyes.

Honey, Golden, Oak, Leaf, Moss, Ocean, Mist, Bluejay.

The eyes always told me what their screams could not. Their screams were pleas for help they knew wouldn’t come, but their eyes said WITNESS ME and I bore witness to them. NEVER FORGET ME and I never forgot them. LIVE FOR ME and I lived for them.

I taught myself more colors in art class at school so I could find more names to give. There would always be names to give. Perhaps this is why I became an artist. Every time I mix new colors on the palette, dip brush to oil and brush to paint and put paint to canvas, I remember the shades of eyes I saw, who begged me to be their eyewitness. Their eyes cover my canvases. Perhaps this is why I’ve always liked the colors blue, green, and brown in my artworks.

I see their eyes everywhere I go. In the moss clinging to tree bark during an afternoon walk, in the slicked brown leaves after an autumn thunderstorm, in the clear sky on a balmy summer’s day, in the honey I put in my tea when I have a cold, and in my morning coffee.

You’d think this would make me hate going outside, but nature is my favorite place to be. You’d think this would make me stop seeing color in everything I do, but I can’t help but gaze at the colorful world around me. After all, wouldn’t it make me sad to see the cinnamon on my toast and remember the exact way a girl was dismembered before me? Maybe for some this would be true, but not for me.

To me this is the best way I can bring these girls with me along in my life, in this way, it feels like they’re growing with me. In this way, it feels like they’re now an eyewitness to MY life, a life I promised I would live for them.

I always keep my promises.

[tenderhungering]

veep headcanons? :3

oh this will take a WHILE……i love veep so much. i’m about to wrap up season 6 right now ! i think i’ll do little headcannons / analysis for each character ! i might do a part 2 because i want to also do some more supporting characters. like you know damn well im gonna wanna write for catherine and marjorie as a whole,,,

Selina

named catherine “catherine” like her mother in order to be able to yell said name in anger the way she never could yell back at her mother

the severe mommy issues make her need every single one of her staff to be emotionally involved in her. if she isn’t the center of their life, she gets anxious about it, even angry. she needs to be validated

depends heavily on spellcheck,,, i just think she hates phones for some reason.

she can tell EXACTLY how someone is feeling by making it up in her head and believing it ❤️

got arrested once in her youth and it was wiped off the record. #supportwomen’swrongs

Amy

would do super super well taking up something that makes her adrenaline pump. they keep trying to get her to relax by making her get massages, meditate and be in quiet. she needs NOISE. she should be allowed to beat someone up at least once a day

had a little gray cat whenever she was younger. she likes them ! they’re similar to how she is whenever it comes to boundaries.

bisexual but she has a stressful job so she doesn’t have time to think about that rn

she would benefit from me in her life actually

actually really liked dan bc dan seems to personalize the relationship to the person (dan is so kind ❤️) so she was into him but suddenly got the ick.

Dan

trigger warning for SA and grooming: i think dan’s relationship with sex is so affected by the fact he slept with his teacher whenever he was younger in exchange for a good grade. it has made him view it was an exchange, a transactional affair. it’s why he’s so shit at intimacy, he doesn’t see to her anything out of it.

watches all the latest movies but it’s only because he keeps taking women out to go see them:

has a really sensitive stomach,,,,he says it’s something he ate but i feel like whenever he gets anxious it happens to

catholic guilt galore but he’s busy so he CANNOT get into it

he’s so the type of boyfriend who does baby talk and when he’s recorded he gets real mad about it. get that camera OUTTA here

Mike

he is like a baby duckling to me that’s why he wanted to raise them actually

has so many useless apps on his phone. why do you have a flashlight app you have a flashlight BUILT into the phone. its okay though bc he watches lot of youtube tutorials

probably wanted to vlog at some point but he got yelled at by selina in a clip so he stopped

the personality hire,,, everyone loves him but god he can be so bad at his job sometimes. everyone gets mad but never enough to fire him

because he started dating wendy, he started to dress up a little more ! ties and handkerchiefs match. i love you dad

Jonah

he so ran one of those private meme accounts whenever he was younger but he got so bad at everyone saying they were lame he just posted a screenshot that said SUCK MY DICK SON and blocked everyone

his incessant gross comments are a result of being around a bunch of rich white men that happen to be politicians that tend to laugh at them. he has daddy issues. he needs the validation

his little curls going missing are a result of him getting his hair straightened because he wanted to look more professional actually. he burnt his hands so he begged his mom to help him

gets really anxious about his health CONSTANTLY and has a will written out already because he’s scared one day it’ll (he doesn’t know what) catch up to him

Gary

he knows the lyrics to every new pop song ever. he loves it. he used to play Just Dance whenever he was in college or something i don’t know i feel like he might’ve even been in a club that requires that

has an extensive skin care routine. he puts on those fluffy headbands sometimes but stopped bc he realized it was to keep your hair dry and his is so short lmao

definitely has an undiagnosed anxiety disorder. he just pops a pill of whatever and hopes that it works (it doesn’t)

needs heavy validation from authority figures,,,like badly,,, i think that’s why he enjoys it so much whenever any of selina’s boyfriends acknowledge him as a person (or anyone gives him any importance)

he needs someone to tell him what to do because he is so lost on having any identify that isn’t directly tied to someone else ? he’s not even really sure what he himself likes anymore. uses “we” more than he uses “i”

[krikeymate]

Different anon than before.

But what if, instead of Tara freaking out and begging Sam to stay she just. Stops. Goes catatonic. Sam leaves without realizing the state she just left Tara in.

Tara just sits on the couch staring into the distance, completely unresponsive when Quinn comes in. She calls Mindy and Chad cause she doesn't know what to do. They rush over and can't get any response either. They try to call Sam multiple times but she doesn't answer so they start fearing something happened to her. They still occasionally try to get a response from Tara but still can't. Then finally after several hours Sam comes back and just sees everyone gathered around Tara with lost looks on their faces.

Love a little catatonia disassociative episode.

First up, I want to point out how fucking perfect a time that would be for Ghostface!Quinn to decide to make a play lmao. Imagine Sam coming home to a Ghostface holding a knife to her sister's throat, except Tara isn't even reacting, she's just sitting there, and she doesn't respond when Sam calls out to her.

Anyway.

Quinn comes home and Tara's just sitting there, face vacant, she's not responding when she talks to her. Quinn tries to call Sam first, she's not in the apartment and her phone sits on the table. She has the twins' numbers for emergencies, and this seems like an emergency. (She thinks about taking Tara out now, about leaving a scene for Sam to come home to. But her father isn't ready yet, he's still planning, he wouldn't forgive her if she jumped the gun). She calls the twins and acts the concerned roommate.

They can't get through to Tara. Sometimes she speaks when spoken to - Tara, honey, you need to wake up now, please / I'm already awake - voice monotone, face blank and unchanging.

It's nearing 3am by the time they hear the front door and Sam steps - stumbles - through. She's been drinking. Chad grabs her by the jacket and shoves her against the wall. Despite her inebriation, she still reacts fast, grabbing at his wrists and digging his fingers in. The pressure forces him to let go, but he shoves at her shoulders again. "Where the hell have you been?!" he yells. "Chad," Mindy warns from her place beside Tara. "Getting mad isn't going to help."

"What the hell, Chad," Sam demands, pushing him back. She sees her sister. Mindy places a hand on Tara's, and speaks to her, hoping to get a response: "Hey, look, Sam's back!" Tara tilts her head slightly, eyes as focused on the floor as they have been since the moment they arrived. "Sam left. She hates me... gone."

Sam rushes forward and drops to her knees in front of her sister, fear sobers her up fairly quickly. She cups her face and moves her to face her. "Hey, hey, I'm here, what's going on? Tara?" The girl blinks, eyes unseeing. Oh, Sam thinks. This again. It's happened a couple of times when Tara was younger, she would just... shut down. It has only happened the once, after... what happened. But they always had such obvious triggers, she doesn't know why this wo- oh, she said...

Sam closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, guilt and shame flooding her system. She tells the twins she's got it from here, voice stern and leaving no argument. She offers them no explanation.

Sam stands and takes the time to prepare herself. She removes her shoes and her jacket, she gets changed into her pajamas, and sets out some for her sister as well. She goes to the kitchen and prepares some sandwiches, sealing them up in a food container, and fetching a couple bottles of water. She deposits this all on her bedside table and goes back to her sister.

She reaches out for her hands and says: "Ok babygirl, I need you to stand up for me, ok?" "Ok," she replies, complying. "Great, good job, come with me." Sam holds Tara's hand and turns, pausing to make sure Tara's able to follow. She does.

She directs her sister through getting changed, pushing the clothing into her hands and helping where required. Tara's always been able to follow simple commands when she shuts down like this. It makes it a little easier to care for her through it, it doesn't make it any less frightening. She thinks of this happening when Tara is with one of those strangers, of it happening alone, surrounded by people who don't care about her. She wishes she could turn her brain off.

She tucks them both into bed, and holds her sister close. "I'm here Tara, and I'm not leaving, ever. I'm sorry I scared you, I just needed some air. But I'm here, ok? I'm here, and I'm not mad, and it's going to be ok. I love you. I've got you."

[oatmealdaydreams]

Patton Hates Arguments (DarkSides Family AU)

Just thinking about young Patton. What if he hates when people argue and yell? Like it makes him cry. Just imagine that.

Patton enjoyers, you're about to hate me for this.

Hurt/Comfort

Trigger/Content Warning: yelling (I guess?), mention of vague past trauma, panic attack (descriptive), parental guilt (idk if this counts??)

Let's say Roman and Logan are visiting at like, Logan's house or something

Emile and Patton are still around middle school age, and Remy is still 17

So age order for the kids would go: Remy, Patton, Emile

Anyway, Logan and Roman butt heads often, so they sometimes argue and/or get in heated debates (they always calm down and apologize if needed afterwards tho)

So yeah, let's say Remy is playing a video game with Pat and Em

It's like, idk Minecraft or something that doesn't require sound to play good on

They're in the living room cause the kids wanted to chill on the couch

And yeah, they're chilling but they can hear the adults in the kitchen talking about whatever

Then it gets heated between the adults, and it escalates to drama and slight yelling

It's not exactly an argument, more like a heated debate, but the kids don't know that

And Em & Pat don't know the difference yet

Remy is kinda uncomfortable but puts his gaming headphones on so he can't hear it

And Emile is basically deaf so ze can't hear it either way and is just happily playing the game

But Patton CAN hear it

And it's loud and things are getting louder

He's just really scared because yelling usually means someone is gonna hurt someone else (in his mind, due to vague past trauma), and he hates when people get hurt

So now he's kinda shaky and he wants to cry

He tries to focus on the game and push his fear away so the others don't get worried

But poor preteen Pat is just so f*cking scared and as it gets more heated and louder, the fear turns into terror

And now Pat can't even play the game cause he's shaking so bad and he can't focus on whatever is in front of him

All he thinks is just it's too loud, so loud, anger anger anger, bad bad bad

At some point he drops his controller (they're playing on an Xbox or something), but he doesn't even notice it besides flinching at the thud it makes when it hits the ground

And it's like he's blind cause he can't see anything, so blurry, is he crying? When did he start crying?

He just balls up on the couch and tries to hide away from the loud

By this point, Remy and Emile notice the terrified Patton next to them, and are immediately concerned, and they paused their game so they can help out Pat and Remy takes off his headphones to assess the situation

Emile doesn't know what to do cause ze doesn't know what's happening to Pat and simply looks at Remy cause ze is so lost

Remy realizes that Pat is having a panic attack, and now he's clutching his ears to try to block out the noise, and his little hands are digging moons into his skin, and Jesus Pat it's gonna be okay, stop that, you'll hurt yourself

Remy is doing what he knows to help calm Pat down, like whisper encouragement and help him breathe again

Remy realizes the cause of it and looks at the adults in the kitchen, who are still very loud, and is just so PISSED cause Pat hates the yelling

Remy shows Emile how to just keep Pat safe, like he gestures to zem to just sit with zir brother and be near him in case he needs a hug, and Em understands and sits close to zir brother and just rubs his shoulder soothingly (which let's Pat know someone is there, which helps a little)

And now Remy is practically storming into the kitchen and the dads notice like "Remy, what's wrong? Why do you look so pissed??" and also "You okay, Toffee Bean?" and their previous debate/yelling gets halted as Remy their attention

And Remy is NOT having this bs because Pat is still panicking on the couch

And he refrains from raising his voice cause he doesn't wanna scare Pat

He's like "You two are being f*cking b*tches, that's what's wrong. You're scaring Patton, stop being loud."

Which, admittedly, neither parent knew how loud they got nor did they expect to hear Remy cussing them out

Some parental guilt enters the adults' veins, Roman knows yelling makes Remy uncomfy and he apologizes to his son, but Logan feels extra sh*tty cause Pat is his kid and he SCARED his kid and omg what has he done?

But then them three hear this horrible loud sob from the living room couch

And yep, that's Patton, and it breaks their hearts cause he's still panicking and Emile can only do so much

Roman is like "I really am sorry, my dearest toffee." and Remy just sighs like "I don't really care. All I care about right now is helping Patton feel better." cause yeah yelling makes him uncomfortable, but it gave Patton a literal panic attack

then they all go to the couch, Logan already being there as soon as he heard his son sob like that

and Emile looks very helpless but is leaning against zir brother and refusing to move away from him cause Pat is still very panicky

Roman kinda stands awkwardly to the side with Remy, he wants to help but Remy stops him like "He needs a little space." so they two just stand there in case they're needed

Logan is kneeling in front of his son and is collecting all the knowledge he knows to help Pat, but he admittedly doesn't know a whole lot

so he looks to his other kid then to the two drama queens standing by

he desperately needs help so he can help his son and he feels so useless and bad and guilty for not knowing what to do (it's his job to know, it's his son. why can't he just be a good parent? why did he let things escalate like this?? it's his fault) [not actually his fault per se, he didn't realize how scary the loudness was to Pat]

Roman helps out like "try to get him to breathe. remind him that he's safe and that you're there, and that it's okay." and Logan listens and does that and faces back to Pat

Logan is like "Buddy, it's okay. You're safe, I'm here. You're okay." and thank god Roman knows how to do this sh*t for whatever reason cause it helps a little bit

and Patton grips his ears slightly less, but he still hasn't really processed the lack of loud quite yet

and Logan realizes that

and so he's like "Hey, there's no more loud. All quiet now, I promise. You're safe." and he keeps talking in a soft voice to his son and the others try to remain as calm/quiet as possible to help Pat calm down

Pat isn't exactly there but he hears the words no more loud and that calms him down further

Logan grabs Pat's hands gently and takes them from his ears, rubbing soothing circles on his little knuckles

and now Pat can hear the quiet

and can hear Logan when he says "Time to breathe, okay? I need you to breathe with me."

Pat tries but it's really hard cause his lungs feel like they're shrinking

Remy mutters about a breathing exercise and Logan gives him this very thankful look

Remy is like "try breathing in for four, okay? in for four, hold for seven, out for eight. try that." (Roman gives his son a sympathetic look cause he still feels a little guilty about making Remy feel uncomfy but Remy ignores him for now, focusing on Patton)

Logan is like "Listen to Remy, buddy. Breathe in for four, okay?"

and yeah, Logan and Remy help Patton through a breathing exercise

and Emile still hasn't let go and is literally hugging one of Pat's arms as a way to comfort him (it's working)

and after getting him to breathe again and is shaking a lot less, Patton holds his arms out to Logan cause he just wants a hug

and Logan immediately embraces him, hugging/holding him tightly as a few of his own tears from his eyes

and Emile joins in the hug

Remy gives a sad smile and wakes away, no longer needing to help cause Pat is okay now

and Roman is a little worried cause Remy is doing this nervous stim he does (rubbing his arm) when he's bothered by something, so he follows him over to check on him

and Logan is stroking Patton's hair and mumbling apologies cause the way the yelling scared Patton is burned into his brain and it was so f*cking frightening/terrifying seeing his son like that

and Pat stumbles over his words cause his voice is still shaky from his attack, but he's like "Papa, I- I'm okay. I'm ok- ay." cause he hates how Logan is sad n stuff

and Emile doesn't know what's being said (daily reminder: ze is deaf), so ze just hugs Pat tighter and keeps an eye on zir brother and dad

Logan feels his heart squeeze cause Patton is calling him Papa and he just loves his kid so much (both of his kids are everything to him)

and yeah, Logan is like: "I love you so much, Patton. Okay? Always remember that. I didn't mean to scare you." and Patton is like "I know. You'd never want to hurt me." and that just brings all the love between this little family still half on the couch and half on the floor, hugging their hearts out

and yep, they three calm down and decide on watching a little movie for a bit, kinda forgetting about Roman and Remy for a moment

Speaking of which: Remy is rubbing his arm nervously and kinda pacing a little in the kitchen cause his thoughts are racing (he says yelling only makes him uncomfy 'a little bit' but in reality, it also scares him to some degree, though not as bad as Patton)

he's trying to push his discomfort away and absentmindedly starts scratching his arm through his jacket sleeve

he almost doesn't notice his dad walking in, wearing a worried look on his face at the sight of Remy's pacing

That is, until Roman takes his hand that's scratching his sleeve and looks up at him

He shifts nervously in his spot and looks away, still feeling a bit anxious, his mind telling him to stop being dramatic it's fine Patton has it worse don't be so emotional

Roman is like "Hey, it's okay. I'm sorry for upsetting you, dearest. I didn't mean to scare you or make you uncomfortable. Neither of us realized how loud we were being."

And then Remy looks at him with this scared and teary look, and immediately hugs Roman

Roman kisses the top of his head lightly and repeats encouraging words, brushing a hand through his hair and just holding him close

After a few moments of comfort, Remy feels better enough to separate from him and mumbles something about "Can we just go home? Please?"

And Roman nods, holding Remy's hand as a sign of reassurance that he's there

And then they mutter goodbyes to Logan and the kids, and they all wave goodbye

So yeah, Roman and Remy leave, picking up a tub of ice-cream for them to share and decide to have a movie night as well

They binge-watch a funny drama and eat ice cream, snuggling on the couch with fuzzy blanket and dressed in comfy pajamas

And now things are okay, cause though the parents slipped up, they made sure to remind their kids that they're loved (no matter the mistakes made)

And yus, now they all have a good sleep to recover from the emotional day

Took me forever cause I forgot about this one, but here it is! Let me know if ya want a taglist or something for this au.

[Masterlist]

[xtrablak674]

There is so much to unpack here...

Let's first clarify a few things, I haven't said more than ten words to this cousin in the last four years. In our most recent correspondence if you could even call it that, I sent her two messages, one that Techu was dead, and the second a screenshot of the post I posted on her late aunt's FB page. All of this was about five weeks ago, she has been texting me ever since with no response whatsoever on my part. I didn't even "read" the text, so she wouldn't get a notification that her messages were received.

My lack of desire to correspond with her started when we were talking about the death of her aunt about two years ago, she said to me clearly, that she doesn't respect boundaries. I had attempted to make it clear to her that if we were to speak I didn't really wish to discuss her aunt. She said clearly that no one will tell her what she can or can not speak about. I said I respect that and ceased all communications.

Truthfully boundaries are contrived by society as a rules that allow folk to interact in a civil manner. Without them I think our relations would devolve, potentially into violence if not very hostile disagreements. If we can't concede how we will engage around certain topics, that is the basis for the proliferation of tensions, anger and resentments. I have no desire to subject myself to such negative emotions, because she has so many unresolved issues. #HardPass

Boundaries help me to keep my mental health intact, staying away from topics or people that are triggering or upsetting. There's a reason that trigger-warnings are a thing! Certain things can be disruptive to folks, and even if they are on a road to healing this can arrest any progress they have made and potentially do more harm than good.

This isn't quite my situation, but I can't pretend to have a conversation with someone about someone I literally despised for their very toxic and abusive relationship toward me. I don't have the capacity to hold their adoration and my disdain at the same time, so its best for me to just avoid the topic. But she choose not to respect my needs and I chose to disengage. If you can't honor my requirements, I don't have to fuck with you... #Facts

Next point, who said someone hated her? If anything I have a great amount of compassion for my first cousin once removed. She was sexually assaulted by her eldest brother when she was a little girl, and in my opinion that trauma has informed the rest of life, even now as a grown woman. She has never healed from the assault and it doesn't help that her mother never acknowledged that the violence actually happened. I overstand that baggage and the compounded emotional interest that can come from not processing and unpacking childhood traumas. #BeenThereGotTheTShirt

But I have never been the enemy, out of all of my father's family she was easily one of my favs. But her demons are so large they won't allow us to occupy the same space and this has always aggravated our attempts at a relationship.

Who is doing something vicious to her? I did something passive, I chose not to engage, there is nothing remotely vicious about that.

God brother? Now I am not sure if she had told me previously that my father had made her mom my god parent, that is the only way I could be her god sibling. I can't deny or confirm this because of my estrangement from her mom and my father being long dead.

Lastly, regarding her cousin, I am not sure why she thinks I would be the conduit to him. I have never played that role and if she actually spoke to her other cousins she would find that Laurie has taken on a more active role with her aunts last surviving child, and would actually be the best person to discuss my Uncle Allen.

What is so sad to me is that the mental health of all of my alleged 'family' is so poor yet in so many of their eyes, if I am even thought of, I am the person with the problem. And I realize the close lines of paranoia that my assessment and this cousins paranoia, nearly mirror each other. But I think unlike her, I have found myself slowly but surely vindicated in confirming these untoward feelings about me. I would be remiss and inauthentic to say that everyone has this position. I have noted a handful of these people who seem to genuinely care. I will acknowledge after so much betrayal from even closer quarters that it feels safest to keep everyone at a distance.

[Screenshot by Brown Estate]

[jjkafterhours]

Hiii when's part 3 of reversal of the heart comin? love your story <3

REVERSAL OF THE HEART.

PART THREE.

PAIRING;; Toji Fushiguro/Reader

TAGS/WARNINGS;; angst, fluff, slowburn, mentions of tragedy and loss @brumous11

WC;; 1.5k+

NOTES;; tysm !! It makes me really happy !! reversal of the heart will have multiple parts, although I haven't had a concrete idea on the number of parts, because I want the buildup to be as natural as possible.

PART ONE PART TWO

He checks on you for the remainder of the week. He does not let you notice, of course; randomly entering your room to ask for something mundane, lingering a little longer at the door before he leaves for work. He decides to shelve his thoughts at the back of his head for the moment. His family needed him.

Taking care of two children is not an easy task. It requires patience and softness, judging by how shy Megumi and Tsumiki are. You had never seen Megumi throw a fit, except for when his father was present. Yet, Toji did not seem like the kind of person who would treat his children harshly, or have favorites. You had seen Toji coddle Tsumiki endlessly for the remainder of the evening because of the bruise on her leg. It was true that he had little time to care for them, but you could see him trying his best.

You wondered if you could ask Megumi about what was wrong. You were not exactly sure whether you had earned the boy’s trust completely. Tsumiki seemed slightly closed off, judging by how she would occasionally complain about some unruly classmates at school before abruptly going quiet, her face flushing. You would smile. Tsumiki rarely talked much, and you were happy that she had started the conversation. Little by little, you began to know more about them.

Megumi rarely caused any trouble. But he was so quiet, you wondered whether your presence in the household was some sort of punishment to him. He was only 5, and you rarely saw him speak up, except for perhaps his sister. You could never really tell what he was thinking, or what would lead to his sudden outbursts. Neither could Toji, for he never retaliated, struggling to placate his son, his hands extended towards him, while Megumi wailed and pushed him away, running back to his room. You were sure that part of the reason was because Megumi missed his mother, but you could not tell what triggered his outbursts in Toji’s presence. Was it because he was rarely at home?

“Gumi, do you like pancakes?” You asked, running your hands through the boy’s hair. Megumi flushed with pleasure, quietly nodding. You kiss the top of his head before sitting down to eat.

“Thank you.” He replies. Megumi was a sweet kid, and suddenly you remember that he had been trying to console you on the way back from the Zenins. Toji did not tell you much about them, but he clearly held some sort of resentment towards them, so you did not ask. You knew little about his personal life in general, only hints and vague impressions here and there. You wondered if you could ask the kids, but then decided to brush it off, not wishing to unearth any sort of unpleasant memories.

▓░▓░▓░▓░▓░▓░▓░▓░▓░▓░

“It’s not fair!” Megumi wails. “I wanted to stay with Mom!”

“I know, Gumi, I’m so sorry.” You whisper. His wails become gut-wrenching sobs, his hands becoming little fists clutching the fabric of your shirt, drenched in his tears.

“It’ll all that I ever wanted!”

“Dad loves you a lot, Megumi.” You said softly. “He’s just busy, but I promise you he is trying his best.”

“No,” He shakes his heads furiously, sniffling. “And neither do you. You’re just being nice to me because I’m his son. I know you’ll kick me out the moment you have a kid.”

“No, sweetheart, I would never.” You murmured, as you stroked his hair. “You and Tsumiki, I love you both. I’ll never leave you.” Where had he gotten such a notion from? He seemed fine even in the morning.

“You’re lying!” He screams, pounding his fists against your chest. “You hate me because I’m in the way!” The only consolation was that he had not pushed you away completely; as you rocked him back and forth.

“I love spending time with you, Gumi,” You insist, caressing his face. He buries his head in your chest and lets out a muffled scream as you rub his back.

“You’re lying.” Megumi repeats, sniffling. “You’re both liars.”

“Your father…he is really a good person, Megumi.” Though perhaps you were not sure whether it was a good decision to stay with him. “I promise you that.”

“He hates me.” You remember seeing Megumi the first time, playing by himself when you moved into the apartment. Toji had left for work, Tsumiki to school, and Megumi had fallen sick. For a moment, it felt like he was the loneliest kid in the world, and it made you sad. Really sad.

You hold Megumi, for a long, long time. After his tears stop, after he had stopped hiccupping, his body wracking with the feeling of helplessness which came over him in waves. He does not let go of you.

“Why do you think that, Megumi?”

“Because mom died because of me.”

He hears it too. You know he does. You know that he is standing outside, at the landing of the stairs.

Toji does not enter the room. He just continues to stand there; quietly suffering in the silence he had caused, his torn-in-two mind resonating back and forth within his body. He hears you murmur softly into Megumi’s ear, words of reassurance and comfort which he could not offer. He had always been closer to his mother even when she was alive. Before you.

He is surprised to find tears dripping from his face, when he finally decides to walk away.

▓░▓░▓░▓░▓░▓░▓░▓░▓░▓░

As he lights the cigarette, he sees you frowning. It is the only thing which calms down his frayed nerves.

“No.” You insist, plucking it out of his hands. He stares, his face scarily blank; it did look comical, if he had not been leaning downwards, you probably would not have managed to snatch it from him in the first place. You crush it under your shoe, half-expecting Toji to immediately take out a pack of them, lighting another one, challenging you to do it again.

Nothing of the sort happens. His lips turn over, and before you know it, he is quietly sulking, without actually saying anything.

“I’ll buy you ice cream.”

“Okay.”

The ice cream parlor is mostly filled with high schoolers and people attending the university a few kilometers away from the school Tsumiki and Megumi went to. You feel Toji’s calloused fingers briefly brush against yours. He is still sulking when he holds your hand. He does not tell you what kind he likes; so, you decide instead. At first you wonder if you should take vanilla; since it seemed to be the safest option, but then it would be rather bland. You finally buy a tub of cookies-and-cream, and motion him to sit with you. He looks shocked.

“We’re not leaving until we finish this.” You declare, grinning up at him. He pauses for a moment.

“Is that a challenge?”

▓░▓░▓░▓░▓░▓░▓░▓░▓░▓░

“I didn’t know you had a sweet tooth.” You comment, as you both began to walk your way home. He seems to be determined to keeping his disinterested expression, but he does not let go of your hand.

“It was okay.” He shrugged. (He was lying, of course.)

“It was nice.” You said. “I hope you get more days off. We could go other places.”

“Like the park?” Toji says sarcastically.

“Well, it isn’t my fault you just like staying home and sleeping.” You protest, then pause. Were you being too forward? “I won’t drag you out into town, though, if you really did not like it.”

“No.” His eyes dart elsewhere. “I would like to.” He mumbles. You squeeze his hand slightly. He does not reciprocate, but settles on briefly brushing the back of your hand with his thumb.

“Megumi likes strawberry.” He says out loud. “Tsumiki’s more into coconut, but she likes the weirdly coloured ones too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I think she wants to try out every single one from the menu. The last time she took this hideously green one,” His lips quirk up slightly. “She was nagging about it all the way back, so we swapped.”

You grin. “Do you remember the name?”

“No, but it tasted like shit.” He replies.

“Maybe we should do that too.”

“What, try to finish the whole menu?”

“Nah, that’s too much work,” You agree. “Only until we find the shitty green flavour.”

“A reasonable compromise.”

The way back home is quiet, but you sense something new in the air. When you glance at him, he is still staring at you, like he had never really seen you before.

"That was a nice date." You announce, as you begin to take off your shoes. Toji raises an eyebrow.

"Didn't feel like a date." He comments. "It wasn't anything fancy."

"Fancy dates are for losers." You reply. "I just wanted to spend time to you." To keep your mind off of it.

It suddenly strikes you how swiftly you had taken up the role in the family. How natural it felt, waking up to see Toji shuffling around the house, the kids still asleep; comforting Megumi when he cried, helping Tsumiki with her homework, and finally, this.

"I thought dates were supposed to end with a kiss or something." Toji says. That makes you pause for a moment. It seemed unlike him. Normally he would ask you how your day went and that would be it.

"You could, if you wanted to." You hear yourself say, as you look up at him. His expression remains blank, and for the briefest of moments you think that you catch some sort of conflict flicker in his eyes. Toji is tall, his form towering over yours whenever he did come close. It had not been as apparent back when you both were at the ice cream parlour.

It is not the kind of kiss which makes butterflies flutter inside one's stomach. It's a chaste one on the forehead, and yet, it is one of many firsts as his hands circle your waist briefly before pulling you towards him. Even when he embraces you, he keeps himself at a distance, unsure, anxious. When he pulls away you are both silent.

“It should have been me.” He says hoarsely. "Not her."

PART FOUR PART FIVE PART SIX PART SEVEN PART EIGHT

[wedreamedlove]

Untamable - Osborn Character Update

First, this is an update to Osborn in Love. Second, please put Lonely Warrior in the BGM—just kidding, although it is an amazingly apt song for Osborn.

Spoilers up to Chapter 13 and especially Osborn's [SSR The 400 Blows TRAJECTORY]. Trigger warning for sensitive subjects such as suicidal ideation, rape, and physical and emotional abuse.

In my previous essay, I said "Osborn carved out his own space and views the world as something that just exists, like himself. To Osborn, the world isn’t something to be disappointed by or to rage at and blame, there are only setbacks you need to overcome, nothing more or less" but this couldn't be farther from the truth. Osborn's talent for flames is really too fitting because he is the epitome of wrath, cleansing and punishing flames, and endlessly burning vitality.

Where to begin? Perhaps the tragedy starts with how he was abandoned by his mother at 9 years old.

[SSR The 400 Blows TRAJECTORY - 14 Years Ago Early Spring]

To leave, the definition of that in the dictionary is to be separated from a person or place.

[...]

It turns out that the true meaning of "to leave" is called not being wanted.

[...]

I walked out in a daze. It's strange, but at the time I didn't feel particularly sad. I couldn't even cry, I just didn't know what to do next. As I walked I thought, from this moment on, I don't know anyone in this world and if I disappear, maybe no one would know.

[...]

[...] For a split second, I felt as if I was standing on the shore, waves hitting my face. I raised my head and shouted, I'll return my body to you.

I'm incomparably looking forward to the moment I kill myself. At least that proves that, at the very end, before the world abandons me, I severed my relationship with it first.

Okay, this requires some explanation. Nezha, a Chinese deity, is Osborn's thematic story. The important points to take away from this story is that, after defending his friends from the Dragon King, Nezha is pushed to commit suicide to save everyone — carving up his flesh and blood to give to his mother and dismembering his bones to return to his father. Later, he gets resurrected. He also has great enmity with his father, who felt that Nezha caused too much trouble to their family and viewed him as a demon.

Osborn views "returning his body" to his parents as cutting ties with them, because they abandoned him and so he has no obligation to them either. However, on the cusp of this despair, he meets one of the few lights in his life, Ye Chuan, who adopts him.

(Incidentally, this memory pretty much confirms that Osborn and Evan are half-brothers, but I will talk about this at the end of the essay because that isn't the focus.)

Despite being adopted, Osborn's scars from being abandoned were too fresh and he struggled with contradictory thoughts like hating his parents, but dreaming about them, but then waking up and hating himself for dreaming about them. He had no way of telling anyone these thoughts and so he became withdrawn, lonely, and wanted for a place where he could truly hide or reveal everything without fear. This is the basis of his pursuit for freedom.

Meanwhile, for four years, he lived on tenterhooks of not acknowledging Ye Chuan as his father because he felt that, sooner or later, Ye Chuan would abandon him too. But at the same time he knew that his lack of currying favor would make it so that Ye Chuan would never love him. The only thing he asked Ye Chuan for was to chase him out if Ye Chuan ever regretted adopting him, because Osborn never wanted to experience coming home to an empty house again.

[SSR The 400 Blows TRAJECTORY - 10 Years Ago Midsummer]

I never let Ye Chuan take care of anything for school and he also fulfilled his duties carefully and prudently, acting as a good transparent guardian. Even if I got into huge trouble, he wouldn't show up. That was an indescribable freedom and the more they called me a wild bastard, the happier I felt. It was as if I finally stopped being restrained by the world.

Whenever I sat on the wall of the school, looking at the sky where dusk and night met, the wandering on the streets with nowhere to go many years ago and the impulse of wanting to die together with everything could no longer control me. I broke free from them.

I thought that Osborn, while bitter, accepted his ostracization from the world and carved out his own space; however, he struggled a lot to reach his current outlook. He once hated the world so much he wanted to cut ties with it first, he wanted to take down everything with him, and it's honestly a miracle he escapes these thoughts on his own. There are way too many examples in real life of people being so disillusioned with the world that they go on to do school shootings, etc.

Now, we move onto what might easily be the most momentous moment of his life. In junior high school, Osborn discovered the Piano Room Game, where the principal raped girls in the piano room. Other students seemed to know about this, but they were either too afraid to do anything or covered their mouths and smiled lewdly.

[SSR The 400 Blows TRAJECTORY - 10 Years Ago Midsummer]

I told a teacher about this, but he looked at me with very calm eyes and told me that it was just tutoring. It wasn't until I stood in the office for a whole day that I suddenly realized this place was rotten to the core.

If you want to rot, then rot. I will never bow my head.

It's indescribable how Osborn has the courage to take immediate action when he perceives a wrong has happened. He was only 13 years old here and braver than anyone, although of course his methods can be called into question, but Osborn has never walked a road of pure light.

He took a wooden gun, no different in appearance from a real gun, and confronted the principal to get him to confess his crimes. However, seeing the principal's fear, Osborn lowered the gun and thought that maybe the principal was just muddled and would change for the better. This costed him greatly and the principal attacked him.

[SSR The 400 Blows TRAJECTORY - 10 Years Ago Midsummer]

My back hurt from being stepped on, but it made me even more clear. If I had to say a regret, there was only this: I will not kill myself, I will lift my sword again and defeat him.

As I mentioned, Nezha is Osborn's thematic story and gets brought up again and again. Here, Osborn viewed the principal as the Dragon King and was planning to take him down and then kill himself. But this moment forms Osborn's untamable core and how he endlessly burns with vitality and personal principles in the face of people, society, and the world against him.

The whole matter escalated, with the principal staging a whole play about Osborn slandering and attacking him, so it was decided that Osborn needed to get sent to a youth detention center. Ye Chuan tried to beg for leniency but Osborn refused to bow his head to these people.

[SSR The 400 Blows TRAJECTORY - 10 Years Ago Late Autumn]

O: You want an apology? Sure.

O: I was wrong, if given another chance, I definitely wouldn't have grabbed a wooden gun.

I'm not going to lie, I was laughing and crying here because Osborn and I share similarities. The moment I heard a demand for an apology, my reaction was "Apologize? Sure. I'm sorry I didn't kill you then and there".

[CHAPTER 13-19]

O: [Ye Chuan] didn't send me in. Although, at the time, I almost thought he didn't want me and was very angry for a while.

O: But in fact, except for him, everyone else probably thought I should be sent in and "educated" well.

O: Even though they don't understand at all, they can casually make assertions about other people's lives.

O: Those students who were sent into Yuda Academy were like me, believed to be "hopeless".

Do you still remember the start of the game?

[CHAPTER 3-14]

Since he said I could sense things... I shot out my hand, covering Osborn's bone necklace.

A feeling of rage exploded in my heart followed by an icy sensation of not belonging anywhere, as if an innocent person was being blamed by the entire world.

At this point, Osborn believed that even Ye Chuan didn't believe him when he called the principal a rapist. (The truth is that Ye Chuan was thinking about Osborn's future and wanted to do anything to save Osborn from pain.)

By the way, the heroine touched his bone necklace to get those emotions and it has its own description.

[SKULL NECKLACE]

Death in the old past, reborn in the new future.

Hello!? Is this not another Nezha reference!? Returning his flesh, blood, and bones to his parents? Then getting resurrected again!? Metaphorically, of course.

Fast forwarding, Osborn entered juvie for a year and then immediately went after the principal again after he got out. Here, he explicitly thinks [SSR The 400 Blows TRAJECTORY - 8 Years Ago Early Summer] "Evil intertwined with power cannot be defeated by justice alone. The past had taught him this deeply." So, he installed a camera in the piano room and got a recording of the rape to give to the board members of the school.

However, the principal was only removed from his position as a principal and then placed in another position. Another example of society failing its victims. Osborn then confronted the principal in an alley with a wooden bat. He lost... again. It's terribly sad that Osborn's conscience refused to let him use his flames on the principal because, even though the principal was an evildoer, he was an ordinary person doing evil.

Osborn got sent into juvie again, except then he got transferred even farther into Yuda Academy. It's suspected that this place is based off of Yuzhang Academy in real life. Please note the trigger warnings in that article. Unfortunately, Osborn fell into the misunderstanding that Ye Chuan finally abandoned him too, when the truth was just that the detention center people told Ye Chuan that Osborn didn't want to see him, which Ye Chuan thought was because he went to beg the school again.

Anyway, there's no other way to put this except calling Yuda Academy a literal hell on earth. Students had no right to say "no", they would be beaten for anything, they underwent electric shock torture, and had to destroy their self-esteem by reporting their faults, etc. Suicide was the only thing the students hoped for. (The supernatural game aspect for this was because it made it easier to remove their souls for the Blood Clan.)

[SSR The 400 Blows TRAJECTORY - 8 Years Ago Early Summer]

After waking up, he climbed to the edge of the rooftop and looked at the rusty red marks on the concrete floor that couldn't be washed away, as if they were a silent accusation.

So long as he jumped, he could escape everything.

Will anyone grieve for me? Will anyone care about my death? Osborn blankly thought.

O: The person who cares most might be Principal Xu.

Osborn laughed self-derisively at himself twice but, when he thought about this, he took two steps back.

He had to live until those people were punished.

[SSR The 400 Blows TRAJECTORY - 8 Years Ago Early Summer]

Zhou Weicheng: Have you thought about what you want to do in the future

[...]

O: I'm going to be an evil person.

Osborn stared at the moon intently, as if something was about to ignite in his eyes.

O: I want to see with my own eyes that those people who commit crimes and sins get the punishment they deserve.

ZWC: Then why don't you be a police officer who punishes evil and upholds good?

O: Good people are limited by many things, but evil people aren't.

O: If it's possible, I don't want to have kindness or compassion at all, they'll just ruin me.

The cruel irony of these scenes is how Osborn's spite to live on and see the principal punished might have been what kept him going in this hell. There are also previous examples of how Osborn's "goodness" made him lower the gun and refuse to use his flames. However, even after literally getting half of his soul removed, it's impossible to call Osborn evil. The thesis of Chapter 13 and 14 is Charlie's question in the PV "What exactly is good and what is evil? Can you tell me?".

In the future, Osborn engineered a "car accident" to kill the director of Yuda Academy. That certainly isn't a good act. However, if justice was not served in this case, then isn't he delivering said justice to the victims?

Either way, I was in pain with the realization that every time Osborn tells the heroine he's "not a good person" he means that literally, because he wanted to grow up to be an evil person and removed the good half of his soul. LIGHT AND NIGHT!! WAY TO MAKE A CATCHPHRASE HURT LIKE HELL!! But would an evil person take in strays? Would an evil person carry out their dead friend's wish and take care of their friend's little brother?

Would an evil person take care of their adoptive father with Alzheimer's disease? After Osborn escaped Yuda Academy, the misunderstanding between him and Ye Chuan got cleared but it also led to the discovery of Ye Chuan having this disease, which Osborn blames himself for causing. Here we enter another incredibly sad story about how taxing it was for a 17 year old to support his sick father. Osborn would beg the neighbors to watch Ye Chuan in the morning while he went to school, then he would come back and work at a night club for money, and he would barely get any sleep for fear of Ye Chuan having an accident at night.

Once again, we see how people at Osborn's new school judged him as being a problem student because he was always sleeping in class. However, once the truth about his situation came out, everyone gave him pitying looks and were encouraged to "help" him out. (It's amazing how this made me feel just as bad, if not worse, than when he was being misunderstood.)

It was at this age that Osborn entered racing and the bounty hunter guild, because Merodach was the owner of a racing club and introduced him to both when he learned that Osborn needed a large amount of money and didn't care about the danger. This is another stab to my heart, because we know he's now genuinely passionate about racing and chooses bounty hunter missions that pique his curiosity but the origin of all that was this.

[SSR The 400 Blows TRAJECTORY - 6 Years Ago Early Autumn]

In the fierce wind, he tore through the track, brushing past death. The wind was strong to the point of making it hard for him to breathe, but he felt that the world he had been fighting for 17 years seemed to finally be unable to defeat him, at least this time they were evenly matched.

His body that had been heavy for so many years finally became a little lighter. He began to imagine that he was a dove or a spray of waves and the wind was so strong that he could easily follow the wind and soar up into the distant sky.

From childhood to adulthood, everything he did was to leave this place.

The world was a wasteland, but he could go far away and find some good scenery. Even just taking a look would be nice.

He even thought that, after earning money, he could buy better medicine and maybe Ye Chuan would gradually get better, and then he would take him to leave this place. The world was so big there had to be a place that belonged to them.

However, as if it were law, there was always something a little sweet before fate took a sharp turn. Ye Chuan's condition suddenly deteriorated.

Osborn decisively broke his wings, making it so that he could never leave this land.

Doesn't this really put into perspective his thoughts on pursuing freedom? [CHAPTER 3-03] "Everything in life requires me to endure and think, only racing tells me to go forward." It also explains why he's so flippant about death because he's practically brushed shoulders with it his entire life.

Anyway, I cannot emphasize enough how well-written this part was and how Osborn's exhaustion slowly built and built until, one day, he had the terribly dark thought of how easy things would be if Ye Chuan was gone. Of course, he felt guilt for these thoughts but the seed was planted.

[SSR The 400 Blows TRAJECTORY - 6 Years Ago Early Autumn]

—[Ye Chuan] was lost, just like that fleeting thought he had.

In this minute moment, [Osborn] felt a trace of lightness at being set free, but what followed immediately was a great panic.

He felt that it was hard for him to breathe, as if in the next second the world he had been working so hard to maintain would collapse.

O: Ye Chuan! YE CHUAN! WHERE ARE YOU? YE CHUAN!

Osborn pushed aside the crowd, searching desperately. He saw the exit of the street market and how dazzling light poured in from there. As long as he walked over, he could immediately seize his freedom.

The freedom he had worked hard for all these years, but could never grasp.

Osborn's steps paused and he glanced at that light-filled exit before he turned his head and walked in the opposite direction.

[...]

O: ... Dad.

His hand grasped him tightly and the two clasped hands were like a fragile string, tying two unrelated individuals together.

It turned out that the desire for freedom was just because there were no attachments.

Now, he decided to trade some freedom for another sort of freedom.

I can't stop thinking about how godly the writers are for fleshing out Osborn's pursuit of freedom this much. He inherently enjoys exploring the world and moving forward, but at the same time freedom is his escape and venting method. It's both his passion and his comfort. However, there really is no need to be afraid of him disappearing because he already knows how precious attachments are.

[SSR Within Reach DATE]

O: If you didn't point it out I wouldn't have noticed. Freedom and wandering are no longer my life's whole meaning.

O: Maybe life is like our trip today, needing to move forward without stopping.

O: After experiencing excitement, the rest area is especially warm but, after staying in a comfort zone for a long time, I want to explore the outside world again.

[SSR Flaming Smoke and Dust DATE]

MC: Actually, I'm really curious, are everyone's missions so dangerous...? Are you used to those kinds of scenes?

O: I don't have the same taste as Ni Dalong, so I rarely take these commissions.

O: He likes the well-paid ones, and I... just pick ones that interest me.

MC: Just the ones that interest you? What are you interested in then?

O: Things that pique my curiosity.

O: I want to see all kinds of people in this world and all kinds of way to live. Something like this.

MC: You really are different from everyone.

O: Really? Maybe everyone wants something different in this world.

[SSR Spring Tease DATE]

MC: I used to feel you were like a gust of unrestrained wind, going wherever you pleased, and not stopping for anyone.

O: I haven't been that now in a long time.

Osborn's pale green eyes twinkled with light as he bent down and embraced me, pressing our foreheads together.

MC: Mhm, I know. So I wanted to tell you that if you're a kite then I want to be the string that binds you.

MC: No matter where you go, I just need to gently pull the string in my hand and I can feel your presence.

MC: Even if one day everyone forgets you, I'll still remember you.

I will remember your appearance, your voice, and every little thing you experienced.

MC: So, you don't need to envy others anymore.

MC: In this world, you'll always have me thinking about you.

I confessed my thoughts completely, feeling my heart pound in my chest.

It wasn't out of nervousness, but rather the surge of overflowing emotions from within.

Osborn tightened his arms and pulled me entirely into his arms. I also reached out and hugged him back.

A hot breath fell on my neck and then, in the next second, became a warm touch.

O: Silly girl...

O: In the past, I was always used to deciding everything on my own.

O: Where I wanted to go, what I wanted to do, it was whatever I wanted.

O: You’re the only one who makes me willingly obedient.

Osborn's scorching voice landed in my ears and it also seemed to land in my heart.

O: It's a promise then. From now on, I'll be your kite.

O: But there's one condition, once you hold it, you're not allowed to let go.

Some part of Osborn still fears being abandoned and so the heroine truly is a light in his life, not only acknowledging that his flames don't make him a monster but also constantly providing him unconditional love and a home.

Extraneous Thoughts

Okay, so I wanted to bring up Osborn and Evan's relationship again because it's quite exquisite. One comment put it best: Osborn tries his hardest to live while Evan wants to die.

When they met each other, Evan was 12 years old and Osborn was 9 years old, so I'm pretty sure they remember each other. However, I don't think they're that antagonistic to each other and one behind the scenes episode described it best by calling them rivals, because they are opposites of each other. It wasn't like one person took love or resources away from the other person, they both had extremely shitty lives LOL.

Evan was actually the one who helped Osborn escape the castle by opening a secret door. Osborn also invited Evan to run away together with him. However, Evan refused and only looked on enviously as Osborn ran towards the light because Evan felt like he was committing an offense for having that longing.

Two boys, two different choices, two different outlooks. Excuse me as I sigh in admiration at how my biases ended up being foils of each other and related. I really know how to pick them. Makes me feel kind of bad for my feelings about them, since one of them is second best to the other (again)—just kidding.

[cinnamonest]

Y’all are too nice to me I swear… here I am being horny and nasty on main and I’m getting encouraged, damn. But for real  ( ´ ω ` ) thank you so much!!

I’m gaining more confidence to post more smutty stuff and the kind of dark shit I like, so I might go back and make more nasty Childe content later on too… After Albedo, I got Razor and Zhongli coming up, and a few ones I just worked on for fun. But yeah, just in case it wasn’t clear for anyone who followed me, I’m going to be writing almost entirely dark content and some really nasty stuff, so just be aware of that, and don’t consume my writing if that’s something that may be harmful to you.

Albedo is so pretty… and such good dark content material… He treats you like a science experiment but has the audacity to make it hot smh

I haven’t seen a whole lot of him outside the cutscenes, so potentially ooc (as if yandere content isn’t already ooc, lmao)

Albedo - Yandere Profile

tw: general yandere content, obsessive behavior, stalking

tw (below cut): smut, noncon (seriously, you’ve been warned)

What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

Very much aware. In the beginning, it frustrates him. He’s never been particularly attached to anyone, outside of his former instructor. He’s always enjoyed being out on his own, spending extended amounts of time by himself – the desire to be around someone is a foreign feeling for him. He immediately notices how bizarre the emotion is for him, how it changes his behaviors. His self awareness combined with perceptiveness makes him able to acutely recognize not only how unusual this emotion is for him, but also how the extent of his feelings, the types of desires they ignite in him, is unusual even for “normal” people who aren’t social recluses.

He’s frustrated by his own actions, feels embarrassed at how attached he is to you, how easily you make him flustered and trip over his words. As he is a very aware yandere, he’s definitely afraid of rejection to some degree. He has no idea how to navigate feelings and interactions with other people, he’s never really had the desire to form a particularly strong bond with anyone before. As such, he’ll come across as very awkward, and he will interact with you less than most yanderes – he knows he’s just going to embarrass himself if he talks to you, right? He’ll just mess up and say something strange, so instead, he opts to watch you from the shadows, go to places where you are, but keep a distance from you, just being able to watch you makes him feel fluttery and overwhelmed. 

He will definitely be one to collect things from you. He collects plenty of things for the sake of science, this is no different. Or so he tries to tell himself, but he can’t delude himself even if he tries. He knows its weird, he knows its wrong, but the overwhelming urge to have things of yours is too great to resist. He’ll start off with more innocent things, but it will gradually progress to not-so-innocent… items of yours.

It may not be obvious, but he’s actually a fairly sensitive person, at least regarding you. He places a lot of value in what you think of him, and wants to ensure you’ll respond positively to him. He views it like a science – there should be some formula by which he can put in the correct actions, and produce a specific result. Unfortunately, unlike real science, there’s not much room for trial and error – he feels he only has once chance.

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

It will take some time, as he’s got to get over his own nerves first. He’s torn between the fear of you hating him for such a thing, it would be the end of the world for him, but also the desire to pull you away from the world, to keep you hidden from others, to have you all to himself, to be the only person that gets to look at you. If you start showing positive signs, reacting positively to his gifts, expressing interest in conversation with him and going out of your way to see him, he’ll start to get more confident, think that he can afford to do something that might sour your opinion of him, hoping it will merely be temporary.

He’ll probably start to do so several times and back out. He’ll set out at night, make it all the way to your room and stand over your sleeping form, and he’ll start to worry, wonder if someone saw him, see holes in his plans, he gets too nervous and bolts. He’ll persuade you into being alone with him, and although its the chance he’s looking for, again, he’ll get nervous, worry about being caught, run through all the what-ifs, and miss the chance. Honestly, when he does finally take you, it will probably be not planned, but in the heat of the moment, a rash decision from desperation. Something like you coming to visit him to tell him you’re leaving the area, came to say goodbye, and he’ll panic, ultimately grabbing you by the arm as you try to leave and dragging you back inside, silently, but forcefully.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape?

Moderately difficult. Your best bet is to take advantage of his tendency to be absent minded when he’s absorbed in his work. He gets very lost in his thoughts, to a point where he’ll completely zone out and be oblivious to the world around him. On the downside, this means you won’t have much time to cover distance, he’ll be close behind the moment he realizes you’re gone.

The route he’ll probably take is actually one where you won’t need to be too restrained, because you’ll be taking… a little research trip. Out to the most freezing, desolate areas of the mountains. He’s convinced the knights he needs to stay there for his research, but in reality, he’s internally panicking, as he tries to figure out how to make this work – after all, you two can’t stay here forever. You’d be foolish to run out of the little cabin he’s bought, out into the perilous freezing cold and jagged, high slopes. At first, he thinks there’s no way you’d try it, so he’s content letting you have free reign to walk around as you please. If he has to leave for whatever reason, he’ll probably lock you into a single room, but he won’t chain you up, as again, he's really trying to avoid making you hate him.

If you prove to be determined to leave, he’ll be hurt, but mostly concerned for you. He’s actually not one to get too mad over an escape attempt – he’ll blame himself, or theorize it’s just a natural response your brain triggered. Against his first choice, he’ll end up having to get more strict with your restraints. If you get too whiny, though… you might trigger one of his more frustrated moments.

“I didn’t want to have to do this… I’m sorry. I can’t risk anything bad happening to you. Tell me if it’s too tight… I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t blame you. I know you’re probably panicking over all this, but you’ll get adjusted to it, I promise. Just… just give it some time… it’s not so bad, living with me, I promise.”

“Don’t be like that. You’re only tied up because you tried to leave. You should understand why you have to be kept like this… If you don’t want to be restrained, you shouldn’t have run out, trying to get yourself killed.”

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

For all his academic intelligence, he’s not highly skilled with people and socialization. He’s not too good at being able to tell when he’s being lied to, and he definitely won’t pick up on subtle manipulation. It’ll be pretty easy to wrap him around your finger, he’ll do what he can to make you happy.

Once he finds out you’ve lied to him, though, he’ll get pretty upset. He likely won’t trust you again, and will require proof of anything you say, or set out to find out if you’re telling him the truth or not.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

He’ll try to accommodate you, giving you things you ask for, but he has limits. He’s too paranoid to let you have any contact with the outside world. You do have him wrapped around your finger to an extent, though. Whatever he’s doing at the moment, he’ll drop it in a heartbeat if you want to spend time with him in any way, even if its just you asking for food or to take a walk. He’ll be willing to take you for very short trips outside, no further than a few yards from the lodging, if only because he knows sunlight is vital to your health.

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

The basics will be there – don’t try to leave, don’t be difficult with him, try to cooperate, be obedient. However, he’s also particularly overprotective of anything that can hurt you – even yourself. Under no circumstances can you handle anything that can hurt you – that means no cooking, no knives, no lifting anything heavy, no going outside without him. If you’re determined to cook something, he’ll have to stand right behind you, and watch while you do it. If you get so much as a little cut or burn, he’ll take over, insisting you go sit down after he tends to your “wounds.”

At the very beginning, he’ll be hesitant to punish you too much, as part of his plan to get you to like him. However, he can be a little easily frustrated, and your safety and well-being comes first, even if it means he has to make you upset. He will have to restrain you, take away what little privileges you had. If you try to bolt while you’re outside, no more going outside. If you try something foolish like attacking him with a knife when he gives you cooking privileges, you will lose said privileges. Really, the worst part of it all is the humiliation, being treated like a dumb, incapable baby that can’t do anything for yourself. He insists on doing everything for you, even down to bathing you and dressing you, even feeding you if you can’t convince him to take restraints off your hands. He’ll talk down to you in that way, too, talking to you as if you were a child.

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

It’s a situation he’s not prepared to handle, and he’s unsure of what to do. It strikes fear in him that you might have someone else interested, so he has to get rid of them as quickly as possible. He’s not opposed to killing, if it comes down to that, but initially, he’ll try to work behind the scenes – expose something that will ruin their reputation, get them accused of a crime. This would also be one of the possible aforementioned situations that might cause him to kidnap you a bit earlier than he normally would, as well. If he can’t get rid of them easily, he’ll just take you away from them.

He will absolutely try to make you hate them, try to ruin your image of them, and he’s rather good at falsifying evidence for his claims of their behavior. With his alchemic skills, that sort of thing is easily possible.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

He gets more frustrated than anything, when you’re being difficult. This is mostly just him sighing quite a bit, speaking a bit harshly, even pouting and sulking a bit if you’ve offended him. But true anger in him is not pretty, and almost never happens. It’s a buildup, a slow rise that has a boiling point. If he reaches that point, he can definitely get mad enough to hurt you, it’s actually kind of terrifying in how sharp of a contrast it is to how he normally is. It’s a side of him that’s very difficult to draw out. He’s not one to yell or shout, no, his anger is a suffocating silence, he slams down whatever he’s holding as he stomps over to you, grabbing you by the arms hard enough to bruise, and dragging you by the hair to whatever he has planned.

With mild frustration outbursts, he will feel justified, but if it reaches that intense anger, he’ll usually give at least a little apology, tell you he didn’t mean to go that far. He hates to think of you fearing him, but ultimately, if that’s what’s necessary to keep you safe, then he can live with it.

Do they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

It’s an odd mix. On one hand, he sees you as utterly fascinating, the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on, more than any landscape or art he’s seen or made, an invaluable treasure to be kept on a high pedestal. Simultaneously, however, he will treat you like a child, thinks you can’t do anything for yourself. It’s a bizarre duality, but one he is consistent on. You’re precious, so very precious, and he’s undeserving of you, but at the same time, you need him to be safe and sound.

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

Of the genshin boys, he’s one of the most determined. He’s not good with people, and he doesn’t really have anyone particularly close to him left anymore. He tends to keep people at a distance. You sort of fill an space inside him that he never knew was empty, a void he wasn’t aware he had until it was consumed by thoughts of you. He doesn’t need anyone or anything else, so long as he has you with him, but he really, really wants it to be true that you love him. He doesn’t need you to even love him as much as he loves you – he doesn’t even know if that’s possible – but he just wants to know that, even if only in the slightest, his feelings are returned. He’s so distant from everyone else, but you wormed your way into his heart, even if you didn’t intend to, with your smiles and softness and kindness towards him. For the first time, he feels weak around someone, but in a way, it’s a good feeling. He wants to be able to be vulnerable, be weak, and not have anything to fear by doing so.

He’s lucid, though, so he doesn’t expect you to love him immediately. As he’s not good with words or displays of affection, he’ll get you all sorts of gifts. Rare items that you wonder how the hell he obtained them, beautifully crafted little trinkets from all his searching and time traveling, more clothes than you could ever wear. You’ll start to feel a little guilty, it’s so much, and you’re certain he doesn’t have that much money. He’ll blow it off, say it’s no big deal, but if you insist, he’ll have to start finding new ways to convey his affection. In captivity, he won’t stop trying, but he’ll understand why you might be angry. In that case, he will utilize what he’s learned from research in books he’s read. He knows that eventually, with him being the only one you have, the only company, the only one to talk to, the only source of touch, you’ll eventually have to cave. You’ll become attached to him, bond with him, whether you like it or not. He knows how powerful the affect of touch can be, and will make sure to hold you in his arms, keep you on his lap, make you crave the only source of human touch you can get. Dependency, he thinks, is the gateway to you loving him.

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

Drawings. So many of them. Much like his drawings he uses in notes, he’s found he tends to start scribbling a familiar face when his mind drifts off. He’s memorized every little detail of your face, every curve on your body. If you’re ever snooping around, you’ll eventually uncover a book of sketches he has solely dedicated to drawings of you. Drawings of you laughing, smiling, sleeping, drawings that you’re certain were of real events you were at, that you didn’t remember him being at. Every bit in perfect detail. If you confront him about it, he’ll be horrifically embarrassed, insisting they’re no good, or, if you’re upset, trying to reassure you it was all from his mind and totally not him lurking in the shadows as he watches you.

Also, if you want to make him happy, get him on one of his spiels about his work, his interests, anything that he can catch onto and go on and on about. He’ll catch himself rambling and apologize for being “annoying,” but if you reassure him, and express interest, that will make him feel particularly appreciated. It would be a primary way to get on his good side and manipulate him, or lull him into false security to make your escape, if that’s what you’re looking to do. But be warned, it will only work once, and he’ll be far too hurt to let himself indulge in sharing these things with you again.

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

Publicly, definitely highly reserved. He’s easily flustered, and thinks of sex in a very scientific way, for the purpose of procreation. For fun? He knows it’s enjoyable, but can’t separate it from his very analytic, scientific way of viewing things. It’s a formula, you touch this here and pull that there, and the result is supposed to be orgasmic bliss. He just isn’t very familiar with pleasure – he doesn’t drag out masturbation, even, as that would be a waste of time. He gets it over with quickly, taking short breaks during his work. He is a fairly high drive, though, and gets the urge fairly frequently, about once or twice a day.

He’ll be hornier with your presence, having to leave more frequently to get off to the little things you do, quickly getting himself off while recalling the mental image of you holding a pen in your mouth, the little moan when you stretch, the way your clothes fit to your frame.

Prior to abduction, he’s not particularly touchy at all, in fact, he’s very jumpy if you touch him. Once he’s gotten you alone with him for the foreseeable future, isolated, dependent, he’ll gain more confidence, be willing to give into his cravings to touch you, hold you, eventually progressing to groping you, moving his hands up and down your body, under your clothes, slowly peeling them off.

He’s initially a bit ashamed of his urges towards you, feels guilty every time he gets off to you, but will likewise gain more confidence once you're his.

A guy can only fight off the urge for so long before he cracks, before he can’t continue to care about the consequences. For him, that point is when he knows he finally has you all to himself – his worries fade, and while the guilt is still there, it’s far outweighed by desire.

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

He does care, but as stated previously, it’s hard to fight the urge for so long. It will be torture, but for the first few days, he wants you to “adjust” to your new “home,” and not add to your panic. After that, though, he’ll try to assess your reactions. If you’re extremely resistant, he’ll give you more “adjustment” time. He can’t really hold off forever, though, and eventually, maybe a few weeks in, comes to the conclusion that if he just does what he wants, so long as he’s gentle and reminds you he loves you, it will help you get past the mental barrier in your mind. He’s convinced there’s simply a psychological issue, and that sometimes, people need a push. It’s like having a friend who can’t swim – sometimes, you just have to throw them into the water, help them get over that mental hurdle, and they’ll be grateful in the end. That’s what he tells himself to justify it, anyway. He has enough… anatomical prerequisite knowledge to know what’s good and what’s bad, and will take your body’s positive reactions as a sign of what you really want. Is definitely the kind to use that against you, holding up his fingers to your face after you cum on them, as if to prove a point.

“See? I told you, you just have to let go and give in to what you want… if you didn’t, my fingers wouldn’t be dripping like this, now would they?”

What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

He wants to experiment on you. This manifests as him being something of a service top without really intending to be, even if you’re not exactly happy about it. He likes to watch your reactions, watch the way your body moves, test the pleasure you get from different things, discover what it is that you like, even if you weren’t aware of it. In particular, he’s fascinated by the fact that girls have so many types of orgasms. He’ll want to try them all, watch and see which ones are more intense than others, which ones make you convulse, makes your toes curl, your eyes roll back. Which erogenous zones make your breath hitch, make you twitch and whimper. Probably the type to be determined that he can make you cum just from something like sucking on your nipples, and he won’t stop until he achieves it. He’ll also want to try everything. At least anything that he thinks has some potential to appeal to him, mentally. He’s a busy man and hasn’t really taken the time to explore his own sexuality, and has virtually zero experience.

Edging, overstimulation, forced orgasms

Experimentation also means testing limits and thresholds. He’ll bring you up to the edge, learn to watch for the slightest of signs that you’re close, listen to your breath, watch your face, wait until you’re just so close and then draw back, stopping just short of letting you catch that high. Then he’ll let you drift back down, and bring you back up again. No amount of begging will make him show you any mercy, you’ll only cum when he’s decided he’s observed enough. He wants to push the limit, see just how close to the edge of orgasm you can get without spilling over, just how much it takes to drive you insane. He’ll also want to see how far you can go after it as well. Orgasm won’t be the end of his ministrations, no, he wants to see how much stimulation you can take. You won’t be able to get away from his tongue, he’ll grab you by the hips and slam you back down, continuing to lap at you even if you’re so sensitive it’s painful. Watching you cum will just make him rut into you harder, bruising and abusing your insides to a point that they’re so sore you can feel it long after it’s over. At first, he might feel a little guilty, and may very well after it’s over, but in the heat of the moment, he can’t fight the insatiable urge to listen to you squeal, feel you convulse, watch the tears from overwhelming pleasure run down your face.

He’ll make it his personal mission to see how many orgasms the female body is capable of within a given amount of time - per day, per hour, how quickly you can have them in succession. For scientific purposes, of course. Anatomy and human biology isn’t really his main field of focus, but he likes to expand his research horizons.

“Just one more… cum one more time for me, then we’ll be done. Come on… I know you can, just one more.”

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

He’s actually good with children, usually. He has a calming effect on kids. He isn’t sure how he feels, though. To some degree, he fears his capabilities to parent, thinks he would be too cold to be a good father. But he also likes the idea of a protege, an heir to his title, one he can teach everything he knows. If he does end up having one, this fucking nerd man will read every book on pregnancy, birthing, and parenting that he can get his hands on.

Also, he’ll absolutely be one to track your cycles, even better than you can. He’s researched enough to know exactly when you’re most or least likely to get pregnant, and you can’t help but notice how much more he seems to cum in you when you’re at your most fertile. Nor can he deny how satisfying it is to watch his cum slowly drip out of you, watching you twitch with aftershock and slowly drift off in exhaustion.

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

Unfortunately for you, since overstimulation and edging are already normal and everyday for you, he’ll have to amp it up a bit if he’s trying to make you regret something. He might get rougher, abusing more pleasure spots on your body, keeping his hands, mouth, and cock occupied all at once with driving you over the edge until it’s painful. But if you’re exceptionally misbehaved, you might not ever get a release to his edging, instead left to suffer from being so close, tied up so you can’t finish yourself off.

In moments when he’s really, truly angry, the peak of it, and that blends with arousal, he’ll really, really throatfuck you. Grabbing the back of your head and shoving his cock down as deep as he can, holding you there as you gag and choke, feeling your throat convulse around him, desperately trying to pull back for air. The movements are harsh and brutal, pulling harshly on your hair, moving at a pace so fast you barely have a second to breathe. Thankfully, when it gets like that, he won’t last long, emptying out into your throat, holding your jaw shut and demanding you swallow. If any spills off on your chin, he’ll gather it up on his fingers, hold it to your face, and command you to open your mouth, suck it off, and swallow again. That’s at the peak of his anger, though, and you’ll have to substantially piss him off to reach that point. He’ll apologize later, holding you close, but his guilt doesn’t change the fact that it’s one of the most intense orgasms that he’ll have, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t sometimes think of doing it again, even without provocation. He’s restrained enough not to, but the thought is there… and deep down, he’ll entertain the idea.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

The curves of your body, no matter how defined or faint they are, no matter the general shape of your body, to him it’s the most beautiful thing. He’ll definitely want to draw you, even if you’re not too keen on posing. He’ll run his hands up and down your body, squeezing every little bit of flesh he can, moving his palms over every little curve, every inch of your skin.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Burn The Witch 15 - Liar Liar [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.

Summary: Dishonesty requires practice.

Series Masterlist

Every spy knew things could go downhill on a mission. Considering how your last mission had ended with your ex, you weren’t exactly unfamiliar with the idea of your cover being blown but—

None of the targets were as dangerous as this one.

For a moment, you thought about pushing that button on your wristwatch and calling your whole team here because there was no way you could take down the legendary Winter Soldier in a fight, but through the haze of panic, a voice in your head told you not to.

It was just a mission.

As long as you kept your calm, you could fix this.

“Bucky,” you heard yourself say, “I can explain.”

He stared at you and the gun in his hand, then raised his brows.

“Okay,” he said, “Yeah, please explain why you have a gun.”

God damn it.

Okay, you had to think. Your cover was the naïve sweet civilian girl so any sentence you formed had to fit the description. The spy in you was already trying to come up with something, you had been taught to lie without even blinking but somehow it felt almost—

Wrong.

You tried to pull yourself together, shaking your head.

“I—it’s—“ you took a deep breath, “Yeah I have a gun.”

“I can see that,” he said drily, “Why?”

Good question.

Why would the small town sweetheart have a gun?

The cover story didn’t have anything like that, so you had to come up with a believable lie based on—

Oh. Bingo.

“I was going to tell you,” you said. “I’ve actually—I’ve had it for weeks.”

“For weeks?” he repeated, “Why?”

You ran a hand over your eyes, then crossed your arms and shrugged.

“I’m going to need more than that, Y/N.”

You gritted your teeth and raised your glances to look up at him. “After I got mugged,” you started, “I told one of my friends back home about what happened and she’s—she came up with this idea that I should maybe buy a gun because I—I don’t know. I don’t know why I bought it, I just bought it.”

“You bought a gun because your friend told you to?”

You tilted your head, “No Bucky, I bought a gun because I got mugged and got shot within the first month of moving here.”

His gaze on you was fixed, as if he was trying to see whether you were lying or not but now that panic wasn’t taking over you, you could think straight.

Bucky was a legend among the espionage world and he was unstoppable and you probably didn’t stand a chance against him yes, but you had one advantage.

Bucky was a soldier, not a spy.

Spies were different. Bucky had the physical training to go after a target, but he never, ever had to manipulate them emotionally. You were one step ahead on that and if there was anything that could get you out of this mess, that was it.

“Listen I know that you’re concerned, but you have nothing to worry about,” you waved a dismissive hand, “The guy at the shop was very helpful, he even gave me his number—”

His head shot up, “What?”

“Yeah in case I needed anything with the gun. Or if I had any questions.”

A shadow crossed his eyes and he scoffed, shaking his head.

“Did he now?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “And besides, I watched a bunch of tutorials so I think I got it. I’m a very quick learner.”  

“Tutorials?”

“Yeah, videos.”

He blinked a couple of times, and looked down at the gun before looking up at you.

“You watched videos.”

“Mm hm. One of the guys even had a deer head mounted on the wall behind him, it’s very clear he knows what he’s talking about.”

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered to himself and you had to remind yourself not to smile.

“And I know how to take the safety off,” you added, “After that point it’s basically point and pull the trigger, that’s what the video said.”

“I don’t even know where to begin— sweetheart,” he turned to you, “Forget what the video said, I can teach you if you want, but for what it’s worth, I think it’s a terrible idea.”

Hook, line and sinker.

“I hate guns,” you insisted, “It’s just that—Stacey said it’s a big city and after I got shot… I don’t know. I know I should’ve told you, I just didn’t want you to think I’m some kind of a paranoid person.”

He heaved a sigh and reached out to tug you by the hand so that he could pull you closer.

“I don’t think you’re paranoid,” he said. “I just think that you could hurt yourself or someone if you don’t have any training.”

“The guy made it sound pretty easy.”

“Yeah, I don’t think selling it was the only thing he wanted.”

You rolled your eyes at him, “Now who’s being paranoid?”

“I’m just being observant.”

“Jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” he said and you scrunched up your nose

“Right,” you said, “Of course you’re not.”

“So is there anything I should know about?” he changed the subject, “Anything at all? I won’t judge, I swear.”

You pressed your lips together as you looked up at him. What could you say to that?

I’ve been manipulating you all along.

I’m working for the same government that is looking for you to slip and make a mistake.

When this is over, I’m probably going to hate myself much more than you hate me.

Yeah. There was absolutely nothing you could say.

“Nothing I can think of right now,” you shrugged your shoulders, “So, can we go now?”

                                    ***

You could barely remember the last time you had been to a funfair. It didn’t even matter that you already knew where you were going, you were still quite excited despite the earlier panic you had gone through. Thankfully, Bucky seemed to have bought into your story but it didn’t mean you weren’t taking mental notes about what to do by the time the date was over.

Or when you were out of his sight, whichever.

“Thank you!” you said what it felt for the hundredth time as you put a piece of cotton candy into your mouth, enjoying the sweet taste melting in your mouth and Bucky smiled at you fondly.

“No problem darling.”

“No seriously, I haven’t been to a funfair in…I don’t know, forever!” you said, “Wait, so it was a thing back then?”

“Hm?”

“Bringing your date to a funfair?”

He nodded, walking beside you, “Yeah. There wasn’t much to do and you know, lots of people.”

“So no gossip?”

“Lots of gossip,” he corrected you, “But at least—“

“No one’s virtue got damaged.”

“You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“Nope,” you grinned at him and gasped when something caught your eye, making him turn his head.

“What?”

“Oh my God!” you pointed at the huge neon sign and he followed your gaze, then scoffed a laughter.

“Seriously?”

“I want to try it.”

“Shoot The Ducks.” He read out loud, “You know what, let’s see how good you are if you watched that many videos.”

“I’m going to get that teddy bear,” you pointed at the biggest teddy bear sitting on the top shelf while he looked like he was fighting a laugh.

“Are you sure you can carry that?”

“You’re going to carry it for me,” you said as you handed him the cotton candy, your nose in the air and tugged him by the wrist to lead him to the shooting range. You took a look at the paper ducks with bullseye on them, then turned to the man behind the counter.

“Excuse me, how many of those should I shoot to get that?” you asked, motioning at the teddy bear and the man looked up.

“3 sets, all bullseye.”

“Okay,” you said and reached for your purse but Bucky had already paid the man by the time you could get your wallet out. He gave you the toy rifle and you had to remind yourself you were supposed to be terrible at it no matter how much you wanted that goddamn plushie.

The good thing about being an expert sniper was that you knew exactly how to miss and look like an amateur. So you pointed the rifle slightly to the right and took your shot, and as expected you missed.

“No!” you whined and Bucky stifled a chuckle, but adapted a look of seriousness as soon as you turned around to look at him with your eyes narrowed.

“I said nothing.”

“That was just bad luck,” you insisted, then took your shot again, deliberately missing once more. You lowered the rifle, pouting.

“I’m pretty sure this is rigged.”

“Or maybe the guy with the deer head on his wall had no idea what he was talking about,” Bucky pointed out, “Almost like watching videos isn’t enough to figure out how to shoot, wouldn’t you say?”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying this.”

“On the contrary, I am a little terrified now that I know you have a gun," he taunted you, “And seeing this…”

You glared at him and took your shot, missing again and you heaved a sigh, lowering the rifle again.

“Better luck next time miss,” the man said and you offered him a small smile. Bucky heaved a sigh as if he was fighting himself.

“Which one did you say you wanted again?” he asked and you pulled your brows together, then pointed at the huge teddy bear. He nodded at the guy and handed him some cash after giving you your cotton candy back, then grabbed the toy rifle from the man and in only a couple of seconds, he had hit every single bullseye, making your jaw drop.

Okay.

You were so screwed.

You knew that he was a great super soldier but seeing it was something else. A shiver ran down your spine as what you had read on his file flashed before your eyes. You were right earlier, you had to make sure to avoid any kind of combat with him by the time this whole mission was over.

“Y/N?”

Your head shot up and you tried to pull yourself together, letting out a breath.

“Wow,” you managed to say and the man behind the counter gawked between you two.

“Um— that one please?” you said and he blinked a couple of times, then reached out to take the teddy bear down to put it into your arms. You let out a small squeal of glee, then beamed at Bucky.

“Thank you!” you said, trying to keep your nervousness hidden and he smiled.

“No problem,” he motioned at you and you gave the teddy to him so that you could hold your cotton candy better. You shook your head slightly, distracting yourself with the sweetness on your tongue but a small laughter escaped from your lips when you took a look at the sight beside you.

The scary Winter Soldier holding a huge teddy bear in his arms.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you managed to say, “I’m going to name him Bucky.”

“No you’re not.”

“Fine, I’m going to name him Grumpy,” you said, “Same deal.”

“Hey!” he protested and you giggled, then looked around.

“Come on,” you said, grabbing his hand, “Let’s go to the Ring Toss!”

                                ***

It was as if the time was going faster on your every single date with Bucky. Even after spending hours in that funfair until midnight, you were still quite giddy when you and Bucky reached your building. You let out a giggle as you turned around and took the huge teddy bear from him, hugging it tight.

“Thank you,” you said, looking up at him, “Really. I…I think it was the best that I’ve ever had.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah!” you said, “And now I have to find something equally amazing for a modern date, so no pressure.”

He chuckled, “You don’t have to find anything,” he said, “I’d be happy just being with you, not doing anything.”

Warmth filled your insides and you smiled.

“Really?”

“Really,” he nodded and you put the teddy bear down, then stood on your tiptoes to pull him down to a kiss.

His arm wrapped around your waist and you found yourself sighing as his other hand cupped your cheek. A fire – a very, very familiar fire started burning at the pit of your stomach as you felt yourself melt at his touch, every single doubt about the mission and the strategies and everything else wiping out of your mind until desire was the only thing left. He brushed your hair behind your ear as you pulled back and looked up at him, the same fire burning in his eyes but he was better than you at hiding it so a gentle smile pulled at his lips.

Fuck what the strategy report says.

“Um—“ you took a deep breath, “Would you want to come upstairs for...a cup of coffee or something?”

He looked almost surprised at the suggestion but for what it was worth, he overcame that quite fast. His gaze stopped on you for a moment before he nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, “Yeah I’d love to.”

A nervous laughter escaped from you and you nodded,

“Okay—“ you started but before you could say anything, his phone started ringing. He closed his eyes for a moment and took it out of his pocket to answer it.

“This is not a good time man,” he said, but his frown deepened as he listened to the other line, “Right now? Are you serious?”

You tilted your head and he heaved a deep sigh while the person told him something you couldn’t hear.

“Fine,” he muttered, “I’ll be there.”

Oh God damn it.

“Let me guess,” you said when he hung up, “Change of plans?”

He ran a hand over his eyes and nodded.

“Sam says there’s this group of people in need of help…” he grumbled, putting the phone into his pocket, “But somebody better be dying because if not, I can fix that really fast.”

You let out a laugh, “Don’t be like that,” you said, “It’s fine. I told you, I’m not going anywhere. Go save lives.”

“I’m really sorry darling.”

“It’s fine,” you repeated with a smile and pecked him on the lips before picking up the huge teddy bear. “But be careful, you hear me?”

“Yes ma’am,” he saluted and you blew him a kiss before walking into the building. You took the elevator, still holding the teddy tight and as soon as you got to your floor you stepped out.

“What the hell is that?” Keith’s voice reached you and you tilted your head to look around the teddy’s arm to see him by his door, as if he was just leaving.

“It’s a teddy bear,” you said, walking to your door to open it, Keith following you into the apartment.

“What’s in it?” he asked, “Weapons? Guns? Knives?”

“…Fiber.”

“Y/N—” he started but you put it on the floor and took a step back.

“Where are you going?”

“General gave me a mission,” he said, “You seriously want me to believe you just got a teddy bear just because?”

“I was on a date.”

“Oh,” he said, “Romantic. It would be a great way to hide weapons though, even you have to admit—”

“Bucky found my gun.”

Keith stopped talking and stared at you for a couple of seconds, “I beg your pardon?”

You rubbed at your eyes, “You heard me. He found my gun.”

“Why the hell did you not alert me?”

“There was no need.”

Keith threw his head back, “Are you serious right now?” he asked you, “This is the freaking Winter Soldier we’re talking about, you’re not supposed to take any chances! For God’s sake, I live next door for a reason!”

“My cover wasn’t blown,” you insisted, “If you or the team got here, all this would’ve been for nothing. I handled it.”

He crossed his arms, “Still an unnecessary risk to take,” he insisted, “Anything could’ve happened, Y/N. You’ve read his file.”

You nodded, “I handled it,” you said, “You should go by the way. You’re going to be late, the General hates that.”

“Do you want me to say anything to him?”

You thought for a moment and shook your head.

“No,” you said, “Good luck.”

“We will talk about this when I came back.” he pointed at you and left your apartment. You took a look at the teddy bear, then grabbed your phone to touch Chloe’s name.

“Hey there!” she answered on the first ring, “How was the funfair?”

“It was good,” you said, “Listen, I need you to make sure my background is solid.”

“What?” she asked, “It is, I made sure of that—“

“Bucky found my gun,” you said, “Earlier.”

She took in a sharp breath, “God damn it.”

“No it’s fine, I came up with this story of buying it from a shop after the mugging, but…”

“You need a document just in case,” she completed your sentence, “Got it. Do you think he would check?”

“No,” you said, “But Wilson might, he and Bucky are pretty close. It would be much harder to trick him.”

“Got it,” she said, “I’ll get the document ready, maybe some footage… And I’ll go over your social media just in case.”

“Great.”

“But are you okay?”

You paused only for a moment,

“Sure,” you said, “I’m fine, I handled it. It’s all going according to plan.”

“Alright,” she said, “I’d better get to it. Be careful!”

“You too,” you said and hung up, then went to the kitchen to grab a couple of knives before going back to the living room.

“Sorry about this Bucky number two,” you murmured as you turned it around, stuck the knife into it and started ripping it, “But you really would make a good place to hide weapons.”

Chapter 16

[catboyantichrist]

Hi there! Can you please do relationship headcanons of a gender neutral MC with autism and ADHD dating the seven brothers? I’d love to see more positive writing of a neurodivergent MC and how each of the brothers would love and respect them regardless of their disabilities. Feel free to do this if you want to. If not, that’s ok! Have a great day! 😁👍🌷🌹🌺🌸🌼🌻🌷🌹🌻🌼🌸🌺

This ask literally made me squeal- my neurodivergent ass is gonna have way too much fun with this- LMAO Just a warning, I'm basing this mainly off of my personal experiences (I have ADHD and am possibly getting tested for atypical autism in the future.). Ill try to be as broad as possible but I'd just like to give a heads up.

Just know that if you don't relate to this post or something in it, that doesn't mean you aren't valid! Everyone experiences neurodivergencey differently ^^

☆The Brothers Dating A GN!MC With Autism & ADHD☆

Day-to-day life has always been a struggle. As it feels like no human truly understands why you function the way you do. From bosses, to teachers, to neurotypical friends. Life can feel draining and like a chore when you're living in a world that doesn't function the way you do.

Then your world literally changes. You're in the devildom now. Most people would be terrified that they're living in a house full of demons. But you weren't. You felt like you finally belonged, and eventually you finally found love. Something that people assumed you'd never be able to find. Well jokes on them because your lover treats you with so much respect and kindness, and of course you do the same. This is some of what your lover does that just makes your heart spin:

Lucifer:

-Much to your dismay, before Lucifer started to get to know you he was similar to the humans you've encountered in the past. This doesn't last long though as one of the brothers (most likely Leviathan or Mammon) try to explain. He begins to go a bit easier on you, and also falls for you.

-When you guys start dating, he makes it his goal to help make your day-to-day life easier. Dare I say, he takes pride in it. (Hahahah aren't I funny?)

-He notices how you need a schedule to function, but how much you hate schedules. So with your permission, he makes a loose schedule and follows it WITH you. It simultaneously helps you function more than usual, and it helps Lucifer take breaks when he needs to.

-You two begin to do everything together, as doing stuff together and holding each other accountable is a lot easier than doing it alone

-If someone ever dares to make a rude comment about you Lucifer will um... "take care of them".

-If you ever get overstimulated from the environment you're in, Lucifer keeps his office wide open as a quiet place for you. He keeps a weighted blanket, some headphones and any stim toys you usually use in a corner of his office. If you're not comfortable with them out in the open he'll keep them in a special box somewhere in his office that others can't get into.

Mammon:

-Executive Dysfunction gang! The both of you are relieved that you understand each other and some dumbass wont just go "jUsT gEt Up aNd dO iT!"

-If you guys are struggling with it at different times, you'll try to help each other do small tasks that require very limited effort so that one of you don't get overwhelmed and stressed out. If its a particularly difficult day, you'll just stay there to support the other if they want that.

-If both of you are struggling that day, you do nothing ✨together✨ and just vibe with each others company.

-This man brings you shiny things. They don't even have to be worth anything, they're just shiny. You proceed to do the same. You two now have a designated spot for shiny things you bring each other. If you have an interest in art, you and him will probably end up using the shiny objects as art projects.

-A LOT of impulse shopping. You guys enable each other. Although you quickly realize that you impulse shop for each other. Every second day you end up bringing each other gifts and laughing about it after.

Leviathan:

-Y'know that arm thing two neurodivergent people do when they find out that the other person is neurodivergent? Yeah you two did that. And still continue to do that. It's your greeting now.

-You two spend tons of time either cuddling and talking about your special interests together, or both of you are pacing around Levi's room talking about your special interests together.

-And if you end up having the same special interest?? Oh man the serotonin you two both get just being AROUND each other.

-If you have a hard time around tons of people (in general or just at certain times) he's more than willing to share his room with you and for you two to do online school together. I mean hey, doing school by yourself online is difficult. (Even if it's more comfortable for you both)

-Will he get you a matching pair of noise cancelling headphones if you have auditory sensory issues, or if you just like the pressure on your head. (I don't know if that's a neurodivergent thing but I will wear my headphones just so that I feel some sort of pressure on my head)

-You both communicate what you need, and whether you need alone time or not. Making sure not to trigger any form of rejection sensitivity dysphoria for eachother.

Satan:

-If you were one of those neurodivergent kids that spent all of their time in the library, going through books like wildfire in middle school, get ready for that to be reignited.

-You two will read together all the time, and if you're having a day where you're more fidgety and don't wanna stay still, Satan is more than happy reading to you while you pace around.

-Satan has a natural curiosity, and loves to learn about anything that he doesn't already know about. So if you have a special interest about your own neurodivergency, he is more than happy to listen to you ramble about your life experiences and symptoms.

-Honestly, it doesn't even have to be about neurodivergency, Satan is happy to listen and learn about anything you're interested currently.

-If you aren't big on physical affection from humans or, well... humanoid people, that's perfectly fine! That's what animals are for! He'll take you to a cat cafe and will enjoy spending time with the animals with you.

-Similar to Lucifer, if anyone makes a comment about the way you act, they wont live to see another day. Unlike Lucifer, the demons who say these comments don't even finish their sentence. They're dead before MC blinks.

Asmodeus:

-When Asmodeus finds out that you have sensory issues that affect what you wear, he decides to hand-make clothes with fabrics of your choice. He has no issue with you prioritizing comfort over appearance, but if you want to put effort into your appearance and texture is stopping you, he's more than happy to design some stuff for you.

-Asmodeus has always been a touchy person, but if you aren't comfortable with that he'd never force you to cuddle. If you are interested in physical affection one of his favourite things to do is put makeup on your face, or just touch your face.

-Speaking of which, if you ever impulsively cut your hair whether it be from breakdown, normal impulsivity, or sensory issues with your hair being longer. He'll always help you cut your hair. He wants to make sure that once you cut it, you wont regret it the next day.

-Depending on whether you like going outside or not (or if its depending on the day) he's more than happy to take you to the fall! He'll make sure you're always comfortable and if you need the attention diverted from you if you need a break!

-If you don't like going outside, Asmo will dedicate certain nights for just you two to hang out. He can always energy match you. Hyperactive? Oh he's right there with you bouncing of the walls. Calmer? He doesn't mind just vibing with you. Comfort? Oh you've come to the right guy.

-Asmodeus is very emotionally intelligent, it may have originally been for the wrong purposes (charming others) but now he can use it to help you work through issues with socializing with others, past traumas from other people, he'll always do his best to support you as long as you'd do the same for him!

Beelzebub:

-Beel is always well meaning, but whether you're neurodivergent or neurotypical, communication is key with him. So, if you're unintentionally blunt to neurotypical people, that's exactly what Beel needs and wants. He knows you don't mean it out of harm, you're just trying to state your boundaries.

-Do you need a weighted blanket? This man will become the weighted blanket. He wants to make sure you're comfortable at all times!

-If you have trouble eating, Beel is here to help. If you take meds for ADHD and they make you lose your appetite, or just general forgetfulness, he'll remind you to have at least some sort of small snack throughout the day. Nothing too filling, just enough so that you aren't running on zero food throughout the day.

-All the go-to and comfort foods that you had in the human world? Beel would make it his MISSION to get them, and TONS of it too. It's the only food in the house he wont eat because he knows how important it is to you. He will tear up a bit if you offer to share though.

-If you're in a hyperactive mood, or anxious, Beel will convince you to do some light exercise with him to help calm you down

Belphegor:

-If you have trouble sleeping, Belphie will definitely try and help. Ranging from cuddling, aroma therapy, getting Beel to do exercise with you. To more magical means (if you're comfortable with it) like sleeping powder.

-If you just have a different internal clock than the average person, that's fine too! It may be permanent but that's okay- Belphie will sleep at any time with you.

-Isn't generally a social person so if you're not that big of a fan of social interaction you don't have to worry. Belphie would even do online school with you!

-He would let you use his pillows and blankets to stim if that's something you're interested in. He'd also listen to you ramble about your interests while doing so! As long as you don't mind him talking about the stars afterwards.

-Definitely the most blunt out of his brothers, so communication wouldn't be an issue between you two. If his bluntness is a bit too harsh for you he'll try to tone it down a bit, but it would probably just end up as him trying to explain the reasoning behind the bluntness and how it's not out of harm.

[merakiui]

Hello! I’m not sure if this is allowed — so please feel free to decline if you feel uncomfortable — but do you mind doing a scaramouche with an s/o who has anorexia? I’ve been feeling down and need some comfort...but besides that — please take care of yourself! <3 Also, I love your work! <<33

Scaramouche with an Anorexic S/O

cw: descriptions of anorexia/ED, starvation, unhealthy views/thoughts, negative body image **please stay safe and heed the trigger warnings if this sort of content bothers you! note - I hope you’ll feel better, anon! please don’t hesitate to reach out if you’d like to talk :D remember to eat three meals a day and drink water! <3 don’t forget to take any vitamins or medicines you may require!

You’re stuck looking in the mirror again, pinching your waist and closing your fingers around your wrist. Scaramouche has caught you ogling at yourself in the mirror before, but he’s never really thought much of it.

He’s always busy, so he isn’t too concerned over your behavior at first. He doesn’t really find it odd when you claim to have already eaten when he visits. In fact, you always seem to have eaten in advance.

The more he’ll ask to take you to fancy restaurants or cute cafés, the more you’ll insist that you’re not hungry. It gets him rather frustrated because he wants to spend time with you on these fun dates, but every time he tries to ask you’ll decline.

You don’t mean to upset him. You’re just not exactly comfortable with food for your own reasons and you explain that you’ve got a small appetite, claiming that you don’t want him to waste his money on large portions you’ll be unable to finish.

But Scaramouche doesn’t care about money; he’s got more than enough to spare on his beloved. Once he starts suggesting dates that have nothing to do with food, you perk up, seemingly more relaxed over the fact that you won’t have to eat anything.

You may not realize it, but Scaramouche is observing your every reaction like a hawk, not entirely sure what will become of his findings. It’s clear that you have an issue with food; you did mention having a small appetite. But then he’s looking beyond food and he’ll notice that your clothes are a few sizes larger.

The baggy style obscures your body type, allowing you to hide deep within the sleeves. He’s seen similar styles before, but he never thought you were interested in that type of fashion as well.

When the two of you are out and about, you’ll stare longingly at passersby who have an ideal body based on your standards.

Scaramouche decides to finally ask you about it when he catches you idling in front of the mirror. He’ll bring up every odd thing he’s noticed thus far and will want a thorough explanation so he can understand just what’s been going on with you.

You’re fumbling for a response, trying to come up with a proper excuse that’ll fool him. It’s hard to lie to your lover, especially since he looks genuinely concerned.

And when he grabs your wrist to get you to look at him, feeling stiff bone rather than the soft flesh of your wrist, his entire body freezes. He knows something’s wrong when you pull away, holding your arm as if it’s broken.

“Have you been eating properly? You don’t look so well.” Now he’s actually taking in your facial features and how rigid and bony they seem. You’re not the vibrantly healthy person you once were—you resemble a skeleton, sharp joints and gaunt cheekbones.

You don’t even have time to defend yourself because he’s talking over you, sounding so scared and angry at the same time.

“Why haven’t you been eating? You’ll wither away into nothing if you keep starving yourself! Is this what you want? Do you know how dangerous that is?”

You’ve never seen Scaramouche in such a frazzled state before. He’s usually composed, easily able to calculate a solution to any problem rather than fretting over it.

And yet when he sees you looking so frail and thin, he feels unbelievably sad, conflicted over the fact that he shouldn’t have let his own work consume his thoughts.

You’ll have to explain your anorexia to him and why you limit your caloric intake so much. It’s all to achieve an ideal body type, as you believe yours is flawed and gross. It’s not the type anyone would want. Hearing you talk about your own body as if it’s a monster is horrible, and Scaramouche will pull your trembling form in for a comforting hug.

The road to recovery is long and rocky and there are moments where you slip back into your anorexia, comforted by the fact that you’ll be as light as a feather and as skinny as every handsome and pretty person in Liyue.

But Scaramouche doesn’t care about what you look like because you’re already perfect in his eyes. He loves you for you. He’ll tell you not to worry about what other people look like and that you don’t need to change yourself in unhealthy ways.

There’s nothing weird or unsavory about your body; it’s great as it is and if you continue to starve yourself it won’t be strong enough to support you and you’ll die. 

That’s one of many wake-up calls for you, as the last thing you want is to be separated from your caring lover. So you agree to do your best while in recovery, even though it’s such a grueling task. 

Scaramouche is supporting you every step of the way. He doesn’t force you to eat much, but he’ll watch and make sure you can at least finish half of what’s on your plate without feeling sick or hating yourself for gaining weight.

It’s hard to reach your healthy weight goal, especially when you’re so scared of it. But you try your best so that Scaramouche won’t have to feel so worried whenever he isn’t around. His support definitely comforts you and even though it takes some time before you’re able to eat normally, you’re eternally relieved that he’s helping you through this.

And when you finally eat your first whole meal without dreading the thought of weight gain or how you’ll have to shed all of that excess weight, he’s incredibly happy and proud of you. When you see how bright his smile is as he sees the empty plate, you realize you couldn’t have gotten this far without his overflowing love and support. 

[choco-exe]

new series ayo? 👀 we'll see how long my motivation lasts haha :'D not sure if i want this to be romantic or not, too.. so many possibilities this story can take

Prologue - The Journey Ends.. or Starts?

trigger warnings: mentions of blood, corpses, and generally anything that has to do with a battle

Sword clattering soundlessly to the ground, you stood there in silence, not noticing the cold enveloping you. Chills wracked your body — not from the icy wind pelting at your figure, but from the view you had — as you held your hand to you mouth at the sight you beheld—

Dozens of bodies littered the terrain, looking as though the massacre never stopped going— and yet it did. The contrast from the stark white snow to the maroon red blood had almost made you go sick, and yet you kept on looking.

In the center of the mass murder, a.. living being, so to speak, was standing with their back faced to you, seemingly lost in thought. You couldn't tell what species they were; all you knew was that they were a hybrid of some sorts, judging by the pointed ears, they were tall, probably over six feet, and they had long, pink hair, braided neatly, with loose strands accentuating their red cape adorning their shoulders.

A bit sick to your stomach from all the gore you came upon, you decided to leave the area. Sparing one more glance at the corpses littered across the landscape, you hastily picked up your sword and spun around, letting out a loose breath as you did so— a fatal mistake. Taking all of one step, you hear the sound of boots thudding across bones and melted snow, and you only had time to spin around and lift your sword when you were slammed head-first in the ground with a blade to your throat, your weapon thrown out of your grip and into the snow beside you. Letting out a silent grunt, you grimace at the pain of the fall— only to feel hot breath on your upper lip.

"Give me one reason I should let you walk away." Your eyes dart up from the monotonous voice, and your breath hitched. No more than a few inches away from your face, your focus was on the male's gorgeous ruby eyes. They lured you inside them, beckoning you deeper and deeper into an abyss of darkness, one you wished would always last, as a fresh wave of chills scoured your body—

"Death it is." The voice snapped you back to reality, and as you vaguely saw the glint of a blade ready to strike down, you realized what was about to happen.

"Wait, wait!" You yelped in a panicked frenzy, struggling to move, although you were unsuccessful; the stranger had you pinned down in a way so you couldn't escape. "I need to find Phil— Philza Minecraft! He— I—"

As your mind scrambled to string words into a sentence, you missed the way the male's orbs darkened. He pressed the flat part of his sword onto your throat, the edge drawing blood from under your chin.

"What do you need of this 'Philza Minecraft?'"

You blinked at the question, the unfamiliar feeling of warm blood dripping down your neck making you hesitate. "I came to re.. return the favor I owe him." You managed to get out.

The stranger didn't lighten the grip he had on his blade. "And what do you have to gain from it?"

"..nothing?" The question he asked you threw you off. "I just hate the thought of being indebt to someone I hardly know."

The silence that had picked up after you said your part seemed to make everything still— the wind stopped howling, the snow had halted its fall, and animate objects decided it would be a good time to stay still. You wondered if this was the end for you, as the male had been quiet for awhile, when he suddenly stood up. He spun on his heel and started walking through the field of corpses, not sparing even a glance your way as he said, "if you want to find him, then I suggest you keep up."

Your legs comprehended what he had said before your mind did; in the blink of an eye, you were no longer in your position on the floor— instead, you were struggling to keep up with the tall stranger. Droplets of blood splattered onto the already blood-soaked snow, but you barely acknowledged it. The only thing on your mind was finding Philza, and you sure as hell are going to endure almost anything to get your goal— even following a person who was about to take one of your canon lives moments ago.

"I don't think we had proper introductions." You said after awhile, trying to start up a conversation, as the silence was starting to feel suffocating. "I'm Y/N, what about you?"

He took a couple long strides, much to your dismay, before responding.

"You have not earned the right to know."

A frown etched upon your snow-covered face. "And what makes it so special to need requirements to know?"

The male tossed his braid over his shoulder. "A lot of people have placed bounties on my head, that's what."

As you opened your mouth to question what the hell he did to be wanted, he stopped abruptly in his tracks, causing you to crash right into his back.

"What's the big—" You started to say, rubbing your nose, before your words got caught in your throat.

For the first time, the hybrid turned his head to look at you, although it was barely more than a glance.

"This is who you wanted to see, correct?"

Standing in front of you was a blonde man, with wings that you were oh-so-familiar with tucked under a rather shabby-looking cloak, only letting the tips be visible. He was weathered with age, although he still had that youthful twinkle in his eyes that you saw the first time you met him, and he was staring right at you, surprise and suspicion etched in his features.

"Who did you bring back, Techno?" He asked, confused.

Confusion mixed into the shock that you were feeling, along with a pinch of satisfaction when you heard Philza call the hybrid by his actual name. Did he not remember you? Was this actually the Phil you knew? Questions circled in your head. Didn't he tell you he never forgets who he met, even if it were years from then?

"..you don't know them?" You knew you weren't the only one confused when you heard the stranger's — Techno's — voice. Your emotion quickly morphed into alertness when he slowly turned his whole body around.

"I thought you said you'd never forget anyone you meet, Philza Minecraft." You were careful to not call him by his nickname, fearing it would only upset him if he legitimately didn't remember you.

Phil tilted his head, as a crow would when confused. "I.. I have said that, yes." He confirmed. "But the only person I said that to was.." As he drifted off with his words, his skin drained of color.

"Phil?" Techno said, noting how he stopped talking, although he never took his eyes off you.

"You- you said it to me, Philza." You took a step forward. "Y/N. You said it to Y/N."

Techno narrowed his eyes at your movement, but before he could do anything, a trembling hand landed upon his shoulder. He turned to look at Phil's pale face with his eyebrow raised, only to be met with his friend looking.. scared. Confused.

"Y/N.." The winged man started. "You.. you died."

Your eyebrows rose high. "I beg your pardon?"

"Your final life. You sacrificed it. To save me."