#this au is 100% stupid but also i am thinking of ways to make it tragic

[movedtodykedvonte]

Number One Rated [[House Husband]] 1997 au lore is that the kids get into the mansion basically as Spamton’s guests and the entire time they are just insulting him and asking him if he’s more like the Queen’s weird little court jestor or boyfriend. Occasionally the Swatchlings butt in to confirm he is both and neither 

[butchcarmy]

ALEXITHYMIA CH 5: detergent, thrifting, and cake

Roommate AU: Carmy Berzatto x Reader

Chapter Rating: T (11k)

ao3 link, ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4

Chapter Summary: It’s his roommate’s birthday this week, and Carmy doesn’t find out until it’s a couple days away. Once he finds they’re unluckily spending their birthday alone, he makes it his mission to make their lonely day better. It’s the least he can do. Little does he know how much more he has to discover about them and about himself.

Tags: reader having trauma, carmy having trauma, toxic families, domesticity

A/N: It’s time… it’s time. I said last chapter was the longest…just kidding. THIS ONE is the longest, and it was hardest to write so far. The duo gets to have a lot of fun this chapter, though! arguably the most so far! A lot of domestic goodness and good food and shopping! Until… :)

also HUGE shoutout to @justaconsequence on tumblr for being my beta reader for this chapter! she was so kind and so helpful. this behemoth of a fic is too much for me to proofread on my own. anyway, thanks for reading and enjoy! can't wait to hear what y'all think!

Typically, by this time on Monday morning, Carmy's usually three cigarettes deep into paperwork, urgently (and poorly) calculating the sales the restaurant needs to make this week to stay afloat. Because even though it's a Sunday closing activity, he never seems to find the occasion to get around to it, and by 10 pm, he doesn't have the capacity to be crunching numbers. 

Not that 8 am is much better. At least he's not dissecting the debt this morning—he's studying detergent prices.

“Why is this one, like, almost 20 dollars?” Carmy stops reading the price tags and glances over at his roommate, who's squinting at products on upper shelves. The lights are always too bright in this place. “And for such a small bottle…”

“Pre-mixed organic sulfate-free 100% vegan bleach,” Carmy reads dully. 

“So stupid.” They shake their head. “Does grocery shopping ever depress you?”

“Usually,” he replies dryly. “Inflation is pretty depressing.”

“Don’t even get me started. Capitalism in general depresses me.”

“Hm, yeah. That too.” He sighs through his nose and tries to refocus. He's having a hard time processing all the numbers and letters today. “You see any unscented detergent? Somethin’ mild?”

“Um…” They crane their neck up and down, and then they crouch on the ground. They pick up a white bottle. “How's this? It's like, 8 dollars. It's not name-brand, but…”

“You know I don't care.” He kneels with them, huddling in close. They smell faintly of a sweet, yet musky perfume. He reminds himself to focus on the detergent, not the way they smell (even if it's far more interesting). “Yeah, this looks good. Thank you.”

“For your vintage denim, right?” They stand up to put the detergent in their shopping cart, which is barely separated with his stuff vs. theirs. He doesn't understand why his face grows warm at their comment, but it does. 

“Uh, yeah. It is.” If the blush shows on his face, they graciously don't comment. “Although I'll admit I don't get around to washing them as much as I should.”

“You're not supposed to wash jeans that often anyway, right?” They lean their elbows onto the rickety cart as they push it, and he ambles along next to them, matching the slow, relaxed pace of their walk. 

“Yeah, but I really…” The implications are clear. They fail in suppressing a laugh, and it makes him smile. “And I’m supposed to hand wash them, so.”

“Oh, so what you're saying is that you never wash them,” they tease.

“That is not at all what I'm saying.” They make an unimpressed face. “I do laundry, it's just…”

“Not often,” they supply helpfully. He tries to come up with something, but he's got nothing. “It's okay, I understand.”

“I promise I wash my clothes,” he mumbles, wilting. 

“I know.” There's that new smile he's grown to recognize more clearly. It's this mischievous one they get when they’re teasing him, and it's so cute he doesn't have any room in him to get even a little irritable. “I've seen you do laundry maybe once or twice.”

“Hey,” he says, warning, and they laugh and run ahead of him, the squeaky wheels of the cart giggling alongside them. 

After the night he almost burned down their apartment, he had felt different. It was like a switch being flipped, light abruptly filling up a dark room, and he's been squinting, struggling to adjust. But as he walks with them today, grocery shopping lit by blinding white fluorescents, he finds that he can see them rather clearly. 

The connection between the two of them is tangible, palpable. It's workable pasta dough that's been kneaded to uniformity. The dough is malleable, clean, and when he touches it, sticky, glutenous residue doesn't cover his palms. When he catches at them peeking over their shoulder to make sure he's still following them, he chases away the urge to pull them into his arms. He throws the desire into boiling water in hopes that enough pressure will change those feelings into something more palatable. He's not sure if it's working.

Something happened when he hugged them that Saturday night. He doesn't dare name what that “something” is, but it's rising from where it's sitting at the bottom of the pot, just about to hit the surface—

“Hey, I gotta get some stuff in this aisle.” Carmy snaps out of it and follows them as they veer the cart to the left. He raises his eyes to read the categories on the sign.

“You bakin’ somethin’?” They both move out of the way for an oncoming cart.

“Yeah, was thinking about it.” They halt to a stop in front of the boxed cake mix and step back to fully peruse the shelves. He stands next to them, and they glance at him out of the corner of their eye. “You’re not judging me for getting box mix, are you?”

“Not at all,” he answers honestly. “Food is always better when made from scratch, but box mix has its uses. Besides, I’m not a baker.”

“That’s true, but I’m sure you still make an insane cake.” Carmy’s aware he can’t make them unsee his flash of a smile, but he still shrugs. “Sure, stay humble.”

“I try. What’s the occasion?”

“Ah, nothing much. It’s just my birthday.”

“Oh, okay.” 

…And he's about to move on, just as casually as it came, but then the processing finishes.

“Why’re you lookin’ at me like that?” They ask confusedly. 

“Is it your birthday today?”

“No, um, it’s this Thursday.” He exhales in palpable relief. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He hates at how worked up he sounds.

“Um…” Their face is twinged with guilt. “...There was never a good time to bring it up?”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be getting upset.” He sighs, shakes his head. “I just feel like I should’ve known, I guess.”

“No, it’s fine. It’s not your fault. I never brought it up. Um…” Their hands are fiddling with the edges of their sleeves. “I just have complicated feelings about my birthday.”

“Ah, I see. I get that.” That, he can understand. “Is it all the gifts and stuff?”

“Kinda. It’s a part of it.” They lean down to grab a box of devil’s food cake, and that makes him remember that they’re in a grocery store. Not quite the best place for a personal conversation like this. They’re being vague, but he won’t press. Not right now.

“You shouldn’t be baking for yourself on your birthday,” Carmy mutters. They smile at that, but it’s different. It’s heavy with melancholy. 

“It’s alright. I’m gonna be celebrating with my friends this weekend, just not on my actual birthday.” His conflicted expression persists. “It’s okay, really. It’s just a day. It’ll be enough of a present to not have to go into work.”

“Put that back,” he blurts out. “I’ll make you a cake.”

“Don’t you work?” Their eyebrows are arched in surprise. “You really don’t—”

“I know I don’t. But I want to. I do work, yeah, but I’ll, I’ll get someone to cover me.” He’s never said those words before in his life, and now that they’re out, he can’t take them back. As a matter of fact, he doesn’t want to take them back. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Of course,” they reply quickly. 

“Then let me do this. Please.” He has no idea where this courage is coming from. “I want to. I know I'm always working, but I really…” Their eyes are wide with wonder, yet watchful. It shouldn't make him falter, but it does. His heart stutters and whatever bravado briefly gripped him fades away. “I’m…probably being too pushy right now. Tell me to fuck off?”

“I’m not gonna tell you to fuck off for wanting to bake me a cake,” they laugh, easing his worries like they always do. “C’mon, Carm.”

“So, uh, is that a yes, or…?”

“Just so we’re clear, I’m not trying to ask you to take off of work for my birthday,” they start carefully, “but I wouldn’t object to it. So, yeah. It’s a yes.”

“Okay.” He can’t help his giddy smile. There's someone saying you look stupid like this, but he’s with them, and it makes everything else silent. “Okay, good.”

“You’re…being super sweet about all this.” He doesn’t understand why—maybe it’s the way they say it—but hearing that makes his neck go hot. 

“I mean…friends do stuff like this, don’t they?” 

“Only the good ones.” They beam beautifully at him. He hasn’t done anything to warrant their affection, he thinks, but the feeling of their smile is so warm. He can’t resist soaking in it.

He's glad that lady luck blessed him just enough to stop their birthday from passing him by. He's been itching for an opportunity to repay them for all the bullshit they've had to take from him as of recent (although he knows if he brought it up, they would say it wasn't anything worth repaying). They deserve something good from him for once, not panic attacks and nightmares. 

He just wishes he could figure out why they were going to spend their birthday alone. He knows them a lot better now, but there's still so much left shrouded. He wants to know them inside and out—he wants to learn what makes them tick, what keeps them up at night, what makes them happy. He wants to know all of it in its entirety, to fill in the gaps in the puzzle he doesn't have the pieces for.

He has some of the pieces. He understands that their relationship with their family to his—distant, strained, and difficult. Unfortunately, that’s about it. He doesn’t know any of the specifics. It’s not like he’s talked to them about his family outside of the off-handed bitter remarks, just as they have, but he finds that this fact leaves him dissatisfied.

He just hopes that they'll let him in. He's not sure if they will, but…he's gonna try. He has to. He's sick of not trying.

. . . . .

“You want to take off?” Richie’s staring at Carmy like he’s grown a second head. They're taking a smoke break in the back. “I don’t know what sort of doppelganger bullshit this is, but if you’re trying to pretend to be Carmen, you’re doing a shit job.”

“Very funny, jackass,” Carmy mutters. “I’m being serious. This Thursday.”

“All day?” Carmy grimaces, but he nods. Richie shakes his head. “You’re being weird. Really fuckin’ weird.”

“I know I shouldn’t. It’s a bad idea, but—”

“Cousin, no, that’s not at all what’s goin’ on here,” Richie interrupts, and Carmy’s at a loss for words. “This is the best idea you’ve ever had.”

“What?” Carmy squints at him. “Are you being serious?”

“‘Course I’m serious. I’m always serious.” Carmy decides not to comment on that. “Do you know how many times I’ve tried to get you off this ship for just one fucking second?”

“As the owner of this place, you’ve tried way too many times,” he replies dryly. 

“Uh, as the original co-owner of this place, you don’t listen to me enough.” Again, Carmy decides not to elaborate on that one. It’s not worth it. “Take the day off. I was running it fine before, and I’ll keep running it.”

“No, no, we’re not saying that, it was not fine,” Carmy starts, but Richie’s already flipping him off. 

“Whatever, I already know, new fucking system and all that. Don’t get anxiety or whatever over it, that’s why you got Syd hustling shit your way, right?” 

“Uh.” Carmy didn’t realize that Richie had even been paying attention to the new hierarchy in the restaurant, let alone respecting it in any capacity. “Yeah, she is.”

“Then it’s fine.” Richie blows smoke in his face, and Carmy swats it away with a glare. “It was fine when you came in an hour late today, wasn’t it?” 

“You guys knew I wasn’t gonna come in until later,” Carmy argues, defensive (although he’s not sure if there’s actually anything to argue about). 

“Exactly.” Richie sighs all of a sudden, a long one that sounds like it’s bone deep. “Carm. Let me be straight with you. You need to do this. Okay? No backing out of this one.”

“Why’re you sayin’ this? What are you sayin’?” 

“It’s ‘cause of your roommate, right? This Thursday?”

“...Yeah.” Carmy pales. “How did you—?”

“Fuckin’ knew it,” Richie says, grinning. “It was obvious.”

“No way. I didn’t say shit.”

“You didn’t need to.” Richie flicks the ash off his cigarette. “They’re changin’ you, man. We can all see it.”

“...” Carmy can’t deny that. He doesn't have time to ponder on that right now. “Is it really okay?”

“Yeah, you could stand to have an attitude adjustment.”

“I wasn’t talking about that, asshole. I was talking about Thursday.”

“Yes, for fuck’s sake, it’s completely fine.” Richie claps a hand on his shoulder, solid in its grip. It makes Carmy’s eyes snap to him, mostly in confusion. “So what’s the occasion? Must be important.”

“It’s their birthday. I mean, I could just go home early that day, but—”

“Yo, if you’re gonna take off, don’t halfass it—”

“That’s not what I was gonna say. When I’m here, I can’t seem to find my way out. This place…it just has a way of trapping you in.” He doesn’t expect Richie to nod, but he does. “I know if I don’t take the whole day off, I’ll never get out of here in time. Not until it’s too late.”

For some reason, that makes Richie laugh. 

“Yeah. That's it.” Richie shakes his head as smoke trails out of his mouth. “That’s just it, man. You have to make time for the things that’re important. Even the recitals where you have to listen to five year olds play twinkle twinkle little star 20 times. You can’t miss shit like this. Because once you miss it, it’s gone.”

“Rich.” Carmy wants to say something to make that haunted expression leave Richie's face, but he doesn't come up with anything in time.

“Don’t give me that look.” Richie’s hand falls from his shoulder. “I’m just tryin’ to stop you from fucking shit up. They actually seem like a good person.”  

“Y’think so?”

“I do. You?”

“Yeah.” Carmy doesn’t bother hiding his smile, even though he can already sense Richie’s teasing coming from a mile away. “They’re a really good friend.”

“Friend. Sure.” Richie snorts. 

“Don’t push it,” and for some reason he adds, “they were gonna spend it alone.”

“Huh. Sociable guy like them spending it alone?”

“I know. I didn't ask. Maybe I should've.”

“Maybe. I dunno, cousin. Everyone's got their secrets. Especially the ones that try to act like they don't have any.”

“You're strangely full of wisdom today.”

“Fuck right off,” Richie responds in regular Richie fashion.

“I think they're like me. Like us.” Carmy's not sure why he's saying this on a Monday afternoon at work out of all times, but the truth bursts out of him beyond his will. Richie's expression shifts into something more solemn, something recognizable. “Y'know what I mean.”

“...Yeah.” Richie claps his hand on Carmy's back again. “Shitty parents club.”

As Carmy stands there in the back, feet sore and tobacco in the air, he sees his childhood in flashes. He's five years old again and is following Mike around with scuffed sneakers and untamed hair, although he supposes that unruliness never truly changed with time. There's warm sunlight filtering through green summer leaves. He hears his mother behind him, somewhere, but maybe he doesn't. 

He thinks of home, of his bedroom, and it is cold. He has homework he’s failed to complete again. It's sitting on his desk, on top of all of the other shit he can't finish. There's screaming, and he's not listening.

He blinks. He’s 30, and he hasn’t talked to his mom since Michael died.

“Shitty parents club,” Carmy repeats hollowly. 

. . . . .

When Thursday morning arrives, Carmy ends up greeting his roommate with flour in his hair and eggs sizzling on the pan. 

“Um,” they say, just as Carmy goes “G'morning.” They both freeze, brief awkwardness circling between them before it dissipates with their breathless laugh.

“Good morning. I didn't think you'd actually take off,” they admit.

“I said I would,” he replies quietly, but it's not accusatory. How many times had he said he'd be home for dinner just for him to arrive when they're already asleep? He tries not to make empty promises anymore. Nonetheless, he understands their surprise. “Um, I'm almost done with breakfast. I didn't get to the coffee yet.”

“Am I supposed to be offended?” They laugh. “That's the least I can do, with you doing all of this.” They sluggishly shuffle behind him to reach down into some kitchen cabinets. “It's a special day, so I'll even make us pour overs.”

“That's true. It is special.” He peeks over his shoulder, pausing from basting the eggs in brown butter to see them setting up on the kitchen island. They gently place the hourglass-shaped glass onto the counter with a light clink. He silently switches the button on for the electric gooseneck kettle to his right. “Am I allowed to wish you a happy birthday, or should I not?”

“Hm, I don't mind. Just don't overdo it, which I doubt you will.” They pull out a bag of coarse ground coffee and a filter. As soon as they open the bag, he can smell the sweet scent of the light roast floating towards him. 

“Okay. Then, happy birthday,” he says as casually as he can.

“Thanks, Carmy.” He studies their expression, searching for annoyance in their content expression, but he doesn't find any. “That's not even really what I meant by today being special, though.”

“How else did you mean it?” The eggs are done. He reaches over the hot pan to cut the heat.

“Well, y'know. I dunno if we’ve ever had a full day off together.” They're carefully scooping grounds into the filter fitted on top of the glass, creating a small hill. “I think I managed to catch you coming home early on my off days sometimes, but never a full day.”

“Huh.” Carmy has to take a minute to think about that one. “Yeah, I don't know either. I think you're right.”

“Then, like I said. It's special.” They seal up the bag of coffee grounds, and then they frown. “Shit. I forgot to turn on the kettle. Can you—”

“Already did it,” he reports, pleased, and his sense of accomplishment only doubles at their sigh of relief. 

“Thank god.” There's the familiar clicking sound of the kettle reaching the perfect temperature. “Just in time, too. Can you hand it to me?”

“Yes, chef,” he says, because it always makes them laugh. Today is no exception. He slides the metallic kettle over to them. 

“So what delights did you whip up over there?” They ask. They begin pouring the almost boiling water over their coffee grounds in a slow circle, gradually inching towards the middle. “It smells amazing. I want the full break-down.”

“The full break-down, got it.” On two circular plates, he's carefully placing a fried egg, thick cut bacon, and a slice of toast with jam and butter. “Uh…it's nothin’ special, just stuff we had in the fridge. We've got a, uh, brown-butter fried egg with a little paprika, sage, pepper, salt…”

“Oh, just an egg made with liquid gold, no big deal,” they imitate.

“Cut it out,” he snips back, but he's smiling and they know it. “There's honestly not much to it. This thick-cut bacon was in the back, so I cooked the rest of it. And the toast is just brioche with salted honey butter and blueberry jam.”

“Carmy. C'mon. That's nothing special to you?”

“I mean.” It's not quite nothing, he thinks. “I can make nicer breakfasts, is all.”

“That's what you said when you made me garlic bread, and that fucking blew my mind.” They set the kettle down with a thunk. The glass is full of dark coffee. Prepped next to them is their favorite glass mug alongside Carmy's. He's not sure how they knew that it was his favorite, but he doesn't question it.

“I'm just letting you know that you should wait to be really impressed.” 

“Too fucking late, man.” He's turned around and placed the two breakfast platters on the kitchen island, and they gawk openly at it. “Holy fuck.”

“It's ready,” he says, surprisingly meek. He can't comprehend why anxiety's hitting him now of all times. He's served acclaimed food critics, top-security government officials, and celebrities more times than he can count. Before that audience, he never faltered, but in front of his roommate in their crumpled pajamas, his heart stutters. 

“Oh, wow…” They regard the food with undeserved softness. Like a punctured balloon, his anxiety immediately begins deflating. They're staring at the food like it's a painting in a museum. “You seriously didn't have to do all of this.”

“I know. I just wanted to.” He feels heat on the back of his neck. “Is…is that okay?”

“It's more than okay.” Suddenly, he notices their eyes are puffy, like they were crying. “Goddamnit, get over here.” 

He only registers what's about to happen for one second before they're hugging him. Their palms are on his back, and the top of their head tucks under his chin perfectly. He makes a small, surprised noise. 

“I, I'm glad you like it.” He links his arms around them, allows himself to rest his chin on their head. With their face turned to the side, their ear's pressed up against his chest, and he's instantly struck with the paranoia that they're gonna hear his rapid heartbeat. 

“I haven't even taken a bite yet, and I love it.” They lean back then, arms still wrapped around him and head craned upwards to look at him. It's far too intimate for what they are, and Carmy hates how his heart beats even harder. “Thank you for doing all this. Seriously. I…”

“The breakfast's just a side thing, I'm, um, still baking you a cake.”

“What? You're doing this and a cake?”

“Um,” Carmy repeats intelligently.

“Carmy. Carmy, Carmy, Carmy.” Their words ooze affection, but surely he's just imagining it. Their hands are crawling up his back. “God, I could just ki—”

“There's the timer,” Carmy blurts out, because his phone's ringing and so are his ears. At the sound, they let him go, and he grabs two towels to retrieve the two circular cake pans from the oven. A toothpick poked through the middle comes out clean, so he sets them on a wire rack to cool. 

He needs to focus on the cakes. That's the most important thing.

“Oh my god.” They lean in close to the cake and take a deep breath. “Is this—”

“Devil's food cake, yeah.” The heat searing his face is surely from opening the oven. 

“You—how did you—” Their smile is luminous with joy. “You really pay attention to every little thing, don't you?”

“Sometimes. When it counts.” He fidgets awkwardly, nails picking at the sides of his fingers. “Wanna eat by the window, or…?”

“Fuck yeah I do. Can you bring the plates over? I'll have the coffee over in just a second.”

Carmy sets up at their little table first, placing the plates just right across from one another. The morning sun casts a cozy glow through their speckled window, streaking planes of light across the floor. He patiently waits and watches them pace from the fridge to the counter, splashing cream into their mugs. Through the transparent glass, he watches the white fizzle into the dark coffee, blending into a warm brown.

“Just a tiny spoon of sugar for you, right?” They peek over their shoulder, catching his stare, and he nods. He's also not quite sure how they know that, either. They've had coffee in the morning maybe a handful of times before.

He supposes they also pay attention sometimes, when it counts.

“Alright, here we go.” They bring a mug in each hand and set them delicately down on the table. He notes that his coffee is the perfect color. “Oh, thanks for waiting. You didn't have to.”

“I, I guess so, yeah. It's just, uh, you always wait for me, so…”

“That's—that's true.” An odd tension sets in their face, but they laugh it off, and it disappears. “I guess I’m not used to it anymore.”

A part of him wants to ask further by what they meant by that, but they're already taking pictures of his food so dutifully. He doesn't want to ruin it, so he eats. 

It's nice to have a solid breakfast for once. He had taken their advice from the other night and had been drinking milk with protein powder. It was nice not to feel like he was teetering the edge by lunch time, but truthfully, it was a bit unsavory. This breakfast platter is much more palatable. It also helps that his stomach pains aren't active today. 

Time rolls by slowly this quiet morning, and Carmy recognizes the oddity of it immediately. It's clear to see when by this time, he's usually already done at least ten laps through the restaurant. An irritating signal in his brain is telling him that he needs to get up and do something, not sit around and eat, but for once, he doesn't want to listen. 

A memory from roughly two weeks ago (or was it one week?) unearths all of sudden. He was up early, drinking shitty coffee and sinking into dissociation. Mornings were lonely, as he was usually the only one up, but not that day. His roommate came stumbling into the kitchen, awake from a restless night. They chatted before he had to head out, and he remembers wishing he had more time in the morning to spend with them. 

He imagined a morning just like this one, with pajamas, food, and messy hair. He daydreamed about having all the time in the world, and he thought about getting to spend it all with them. Now he’s sitting in that moment he imagined, except that it’s real. They're across from him in their wrinkled pajamas and bedhead, contentedly mowing through their food. There's a smear of jam on the corner of their mouth. He takes a sip of his coffee, and it's perfect, just as they made it for him. 

This amount of good should scare him, needs to scare him, but he just can't bring himself to care anymore. He wants more than nightmares, cigarettes, and floating just above the budget. He wants this.

He tastes his coffee and reminds himself that he’s still here. The moment hasn’t passed him by. 

“Is it good?” He asks quietly. It’s a rhetorical question, it always is, but he can’t help himself. He wants to hear it from them. 

“So. Fucking. Good.” They have to finish chewing before they answer. “You always knock it out of the park. If this is the prelude, I don’t know if I can handle what’s next,” they say, gesturing towards the cooling cake.

“It won’t be ready for a while yet. You have time to prepare yourself.” That makes them smile. All according to plan. “Got anything in mind for today?”

“Nothing glamorous. I was just gonna go out for a little. Go thrifting, maybe watch a movie later. Smoke a joint.” They shrug. “Just my usual sort of thing.”

“Mm.” He dusts off crumbs from the toast off his fingers on his pants. “Sounds like a good time. You still wanna go?”

“I do, yeah.” They stare at him for a moment, as if processing his words. Or just him. “Do you…wanna tag along, or…?”

Whenever they ask him if he wants to spend time together (whether it’s grocery shopping, smoking, or watching a show), they usually offer it with an air of nonchalance. Carmy’s assumed it’s been out of politeness, restraining their expression as to not put any pressure onto him. That’s the person he’s used to, not this uneasy anxiety, someone afraid to ask him to spend time with them.

It reminds him of himself in every way. 

“I’d love to tag along,” he answers easily, just as they’ve always done for him. “I’ve got the whole day off, after all.”

“Right. ‘Course.” He watches their little smile double in size. “I promise to not make you watch me try on clothes for too long.”

“I wouldn’t mind. I like thrifting, y’know.” And you, he thinks to himself. 

“You do? Oh, of course—” They make a contemplative noise to themself. “Vintage denim. I always wondered how you managed to have so many pairs.”

“Once you know where to look, they’re pretty easy to find. I can help you find some, if you want.”

“I’d love that. I realized the other day that I don’t have any dark wash jeans, so—actually, the truth is that I do have a pair, but they’re so fucked up and old that I never wear them anymore. Anyway, I need new jeans. Think you could find some dark wash blue jeans for me?”

“If you’re willing to hit up more than one store, then definitely,” he replies, just a smidge cocky.

“I’m willing to hit up even two more stores.” He pretends to gasp, to which they nod confidently. “Yeah. That’s right. Maybe even three.”

“We won’t need three,” Carmy promises. “I’m better than that. Probably won’t even need two, but…” He shrugs. “We’ll see what they’ve got.”

“Okay, Mr. Confident over here,” they tease. “Let’s see what you’ve got!”

They head out after they both clean the kitchen and freshen up. Carmy gets the flour out of his hair and rewets his hair to revive some of his curls. He silently thanks his past self for showering the night before. With the passage of the morning cold and the rising sun, the afternoon weather’s become brisk and pleasant. However, the weather’s barely a factor in how he’s dressing. 

Is this too much? Is this not enough? He’s switching shirts and pants in the mirror like he’s about to go on a date. He knows he’s not, swears to himself that he’s not, but he’s put product in his hair and cologne on his wrists and temples. It’s not a date, but he can’t fucking decide what to wear. 

He sucks it up and settles on a gray sweater, light wash blue jeans, and white sneakers. From under his collar and at the bottom of his sweater peeks out a brown button up. It’s probably too much, but this is his sixth outfit change. He’s fed up with it and himself.

After adjusting the gold chain that got hidden under his collar, he steps out. 

He finds them already waiting by the door in this thick knit cardigan and fitted plaid pants that makes his heart stutter. When they hear him approaching, their head snaps up from their phone, and their skin sparkles with touches of makeup. 

“You look really nice.” He has no idea how he let that slip, but he’s more shocked that he didn’t stutter once. 

“Ah, th—thank you,” they stammer, fingers fidgeting with the edge of their sleeve. He’s not sure if it's their makeup or their skin that’s doing the blushing. It’s nice to see them being the one tripping over their words for once. “You look pretty handsome yourself.”

“Oh. Um.” Handsome? It echoes in his head. He instantly feels self conscious. So much for being the more suave one for once. “Thanks, uh…I just didn’t wanna wear my work clothes,” he lies in an attempt to ease his embarrassment.

“I gotcha.” He’s glad they don’t challenge him on it. “Shall we head out?”

“Yeah. Where we headed first?”

They take the metro to their personal favorite shop a little up north. The metro’s surprisingly busy for a Thursday afternoon, but the crowd forces the two of them to be huddled next to each other. They’re both standing close to a pole by the window, each with one hand wrapped around the metal. 

As passengers come and go, they step closer to him to move out of the way. Eventually it just gets to a point where they’re standing nearly pressed up against his chest. He tries not to dwell on how that makes him feel, but he can smell the fragrance they put on, and it’s very distracting. 

Luckily, the ride is short. Any longer on the train, he might’ve put an arm around their shoulder, god forbid. 

“If we can’t find what I’m looking for here, maybe you can show me one of your favorite spots to go thrifting,” they say as they enter the thrift store. The interior is decorated, clean, and lovely, and unlike the metro, it’s not packed to the brim with people. It smells faintly of incense, and there’s local art framed all over the walls for sale. It oozes warmth and excitement, much like them. 

“There’s a ton of shit here, so maybe we won’t need to after all.” He finds himself intaking everything at once, eyes flickering from sign to sign. “I’ve never been here before. This is really cool.”

“It’s my favorite place to find new clothes.” They trail down the racks, finger flitting between clothes. “I hope you can find something you like here, too.”

“I’m sure I will.” He’s already walking to their denim section and immediately spots some contenders. “I think I already have.”

He’s not sure if they mean to spend hours in there, but he certainly does. There’s more than just clothes to look at, although that’s what takes up most of his time. There’s dishes, furniture, cds, vinyls, books, even electronics. He goes back and forth with them, clothing articles piling up in his arms as they sit on battered couches together and peruse scratched cds. Everywhere he looks, there’s just more, more, and more. 

“Okay, I’ve gotta cut myself off,” they say as they leave the furniture section. They’ve sat on nearly every chair in that place. “I already have so many clothes to try on, and that’s not even including the jeans you’ve picked out for me.”

“If it helps, some of these are mine.” Carmy flips through the layers of hanging jeans that have built up on his forearm. “If you can believe it, I even found some stuff that isn’t denim.”

“I’m not sure if I can, but seeing is believing.” They thumb through some long-sleeves he’s carrying that are seeping out from under the jeans. “I’m just glad you were able to find some stuff for yourself, too. Not that I was that worried.”

He hands them the jeans he’s found for them, all dark wash and in their size. To his surprise, they also hand him an article of clothing for him to try on. 

“I thought you’d look good in this. You’ll have to show me when you try it on,” they say, and it’s innocent, completely meaningless, but as soon as Carmy agrees and rushes to hide in the changing room, he views in the mirror and sees his flushed face. 

Doesn’t mean anything, he repeats to himself, over and over and over. Stop getting in over your head.

He tries on his items of choice first. The first is a dark green henley that looked better on the rack than it did him, so he puts it in the reject pile. The second is a dark blue long sleeve that fits just right. It’s cheap, too, so it’s an automatic purchase. He presumes the way to word it is that it hugs him in all the right places, but he’s not sure. The rest are jeans, of which only one he decides to buy. A bit pricey, but for the brand and year, it’s worth it (although he basically always uses this reasoning with himself). 

Now, for the piece of clothing they picked out for him. It’s a dark brown t-shirt that seems like it’s just the right length. It’s a muted, yet warm brown, a bit rosey in hue. He doesn’t realize it’s a v-neck until he gets it over his head and down his shoulders. 

“I’ve never worn a v-neck before,” he calls out to the room next to him. 

“Oh, are you trying it on? Do you like it?” Their slightly muffled voice calls back to him. 

“Um…I’m not sure,” he admits with a shaky laugh. The collar is lower than he’s used to. It dips below his collarbones, and between them dangles his chain. “Should I show you?”

“Yes! Hold on, lemme get some pants on. …Okay, I’m stepping out!”

He hears their door open alongside his. When they see him, their expression snaps into what he believes is surprise and delight. He’s sure he looks somewhat the same. 

They’re wearing one of the vintage jeans he picked out for them—dark blue Levi’s. Although they’re rolled up a couple times at the bottom, it seems to fit them just right. As he stares, he’s reminded of his many pairs of Levi’s, and it’s more or less like seeing them in his clothes, which is. Which is. Uh. Yeah.

“I knew that would suit you,” they say with a grin, to which he realizes he can’t hide his blush. 

“It’s not weird?”

“Not at all. It looks good.” They tilt their head to the side as they openly look him over, hip cocked. Something in their gaze is making him hot. “No pressure to buy it, of course.”

“It’s different from what I’m used to, but…” He looks down, smooths the fabric with his palm. “It’s kinda nice, something like this. Um, and what do you think about the jeans?” He needs to direct the attention off him quickly. 

“Oh, I love them. The others ended up fitting not quite right on me, but that’s how it goes.” They move from side to side, almost twirling. It’s cute. “I love these, though. Just a little long, but I’m used to it.”

“That’s how it always is. I can hem them for you, if you want. I usually hem mine.”

“And he sews,” they say, seemingly to themself, but they’re looking right at him. Embarrassing. “If you don’t mind, that’d be amazing. Either way, I’m probably getting them.”

“Good. You should. They fit well.” 

“Yeah?” They glance back into their fitting room, likely examining themself in the mirror, and then back at him. “Okay, then. Definitely getting them.” With that and a cheeky grin, they go back into their dressing room to try on the rest of their clothes. Carmy follows suit, grateful to hide his embarrassed face. 

Carmy heads to check out with the dark blue long sleeve, a pair of jeans, and the brown v-neck. They’ve decided on the pair of jeans they showed him earlier and a little purple tank-top he wishes he got to see on them. 

“Will that be all for you today?” The cashier asks him as he checks out first. Even the cashiers here are pretty nice, he finds. 

“Oh, their stuff, too.” He nods to them, who’s standing right next to him. 

“Carmy.” They glare at him. 

“What?” He feels himself smiling. 

“You can’t do this to me.”

“C’mon.” He nudges them gently with his elbow. “It’s my present to you.”

“Oh, so the present wasn’t the breakfast? Or the cake? Or helping me pick these out?”

“Why can’t it be all of them?” He decides to stop this in its tracks and takes the clothes out of their hands, sliding it onto the counter. “Just these two, and that’ll be it.”

“Just you wait until your birthday hits,” they mutter darkly, shaking their head. “Just you wait.”

“I haven’t told you my birthday.” He pauses. “Right?”

“I’ll ask Richie.”

“No, you won’t.”

“You’re giving me no choice.”

“You could also just, I don't know, not ask—”

“I wouldn't have to if you didn't force my hand—”

“You guys are cute together,” the cashier comments with a smile, surely a harmless, meaningless thing, but it shuts the both of them up. Carmy can already feel the impact of it on his psyche, and he decides to tuck away the surging emotions to unpack later. At least, he'll try. 

“You really didn't have to get those for me,” they tell him when they're exiting the store. “But I guess I should just be saying thank you. So…thank you.”

“Sure. I mean, it would've been better if it was wrapped and stuff, but…” He shrugs. “Had to get you a real present, not just food.”

“Not just food, my ass.” That makes him laugh. “It'll be nice to have something to remind me of this day, though. That's one of the nice parts of getting gifts. Everytime I wear these clothes, I'll think of you.”

“Good. Yeah, that's…good,” he finishes lamely. He nods like their words haven't flustered him, but he's sure they can tell. They laugh, and he can tell it's because of his reaction. 

“I'm sorry that the cashier said that,” they say out of nowhere.

“Why're you apologizing? It's not your fault.” Any embarrassment he was feeling before is immediately replaced with a new, more potent sort of embarrassment. He was hoping they wouldn't mention it. 

“I guess that's true. I don't know, I just…” They trail off. “Just hope it didn't upset you.”

“Not at all,” he lies, and he prays they believe it.

. . . . .

The metro is less crowded on the way home. They sit comfortably next to each other and watch the city pass them by. A part of Carmy mourns the closeness they had on the way there, but the other part tells him to get it together and keep his distance. 

“I'mma take a nap,” they say with a yawn. Their cardigan and bag have been tossed onto the couch. The new clothes have been thrown into the laundry machine, and there's the muffled sound of running water. “Maybe we could smoke and watch a movie later, though.”

“Yeah, that sounds nice.” He peers into the fridge to check on the cake rounds. Just as he left them. “Have a good nap.”

“Thanks, Carm,” they reply sleepily. “Wouldn't be a good day if I didn't get to have a nice nap, after all.” With that, they shuffle into their room and shut the door behind them.

Carmy spends the next two hours flying around the apartment, baking, cooking, cleaning. The sun slowly sets as he goes. He keeps his body and hands moving in hopes that his head doesn't have a chance to catch up, but it manages to keep the pace. It always does.

The crumb coat's fucked up on the left, his first train of thought says. He inspects the surface, eyes following the circumference of the cake. There's a little loose crumb. With the edge of his spatula, he tucks the crumb away. 

The faint smell of chocolate wafts up from the cold cake rounds. He's hunched over the kitchen island, hands reaching between dark chocolate frosting and cake. The afternoon sun casts harsh lights onto the cake, and it glistens. He genuinely can't remember the last time he's made a layered cake. He's never been much of a baker, anyhow. 

You're going to disappoint them, his second train of thought interrupts, running parallel to the other one at full speed. Who do you think you are? You don't make cakes. 

He leans back, inspects his work. The crumb coats are perfect. 

Fuck off, he thinks back, triumphant. Look at that shit. He runs his finger along the spatula, picking up congealed crumbs and frosting. He licks it off, and it's delicious. And it tastes good, asshole. So shut the fuck up.

You're being a nuisance, the thoughts continue. Carmy's pops the crumb coats in the freezer for a quick set. They don't actually like any of this. They're just being nice to make you feel better.

They seemed happy to me, he thinks, but he's faltering. He's washing the dishes, and the sensation of the warm water feels distant. They loved the food I made.

Couldn't you tell they were lying? He doesn't understand why these thoughts are rampaging through his head now of all times. It's not unfamiliar, but it's inconvenient. Keep this up, and you'll actually be surprised when they drop you.

Without warning, a memory hits him . As his hands drip with soap, he's reminded of playing with Michael and Sugar in the summer when he was five. Or six, or seven, he's never quite sure. They were outdoors at a local park, and the heat made the metal of the playground searing hot to the touch.

He was blowing bubbles, and the sticky mixture from the bottle was getting all over his hands. In his memory, Carmy watches the way the iridescent bubbles floated away and left little circles on the surface of the plastic slide. He can't remember why he wasn't playing with the others. He can remember the sound of their laughing voices in the distance, gleeful and delighted without him. He thinks he tried to join in, but it didn't work. It often just didn't work, and it was all his fault. 

The memory ends, and Carmy's finished washing the dishes. 

This is working, he thinks to himself. His hands are dried out from the hot water and soap. I swear to you, it's working. So just stop. Okay?

There's no response. Good enough. 

He hears the door opening as soon as he's putting the finishing touches on the cake. With a damp paper towel, he carefully swipes away stray drops of frosting that fell onto the cake stand. He thinks it's best described as if a tiramisu was turned into a devil's food cake. It's not the best cake he's ever made, but it's definitely up there in terms of looks. All the components of the cake tasted good separately, so he hopes it makes sense in his mouth as much as it did in his head. 

“Have a nice nap?” He asks before he turns his head. They're standing in the hallway, bed hair hastily tied back.

“Sorta. It was okay.” Their eyes are glued onto the cake as they walk up to the island. “Is this…?”

“This is for you, yeah,” he finishes for them. They take a seat on one of the chairs at the island. “It's a, uh, devil's food cake with vanilla mascarpone cream on the inside. The outside's this coffee buttercream…” He trails off, not knowing what else to say. He could mention the dutch processed cocoa powder, the expensive vanilla bean pods, or the endless sifting, but it feels too gratuitous. 

“Wow…” They're still staring, as if it's not quite real to them. “I can't believe this is for me. It almost looks too pretty to eat, but you know I can't wait to tear into this.”

“We could, uh, have it now, if you, if you want,” he says hesitantly. 

“I don't know if I could wait.” Their smile grows wider. “You even put candles on it?”

“We don't have to light them or anything if you don't want to,” he adds quickly. 

“The candles are the fun part. I don't mind that. The song is…okay I guess, but…” They give him an expectant, excited look. “Were you gonna sing for me?”

“...Only if you wanted to,” he mumbles, suddenly stricken with embarrassment. 

“Would that be okay? If I wanted that?”

“I wouldn't mind.” Not if it's you.

“Okay. Then, yeah.” They pull out a lighter from their pocket. “I’d really like that.”

Carmy cuts the overhead lights before taking out his own lighter to help them light the rest of the candles. One by one, the dark room gradually illuminates until it's filled with a warm, orange glow. The flickering flames cast shifting shadows onto their smiling face and reflect into their glossy eyes. 

“Ready?” He asks quietly. 

“I'm ready,” they whisper. 

Carmy doesn't really need to clear his throat, but he does so anyway. He can't recall the last time he sang happy birthday to anyone, let alone by himself. This is the first time he's ever sung in front of an audience, too. 

I can do this, he thinks to himself. I can do this.

His voice is awkward and scratchy. He never uses it like this, has never sang for anyone in his life. His ears burn, and he hates the sound of his voice, but he reminds himself to focus on their delighted little smile and warm gaze. The room is far too quiet for his voice, making the words painfully clear. 

“Happy birthday to you,” he finishes singing, voice trailing off awkwardly. He's more than ready to finish singing now. “Uh, make a wish…?”

“Right.” The two of them sit in the flickering candle light for a moment longer, the silence thick. Carmy watches their face, their eyes boring into the candles with an expression he can only describe as longing. Then, they blow out the candles with a decisive blow, and the room goes dark. 

He moves to switch on the lights. When he turns back to look at them, tears are streaming down their face. 

“Hey,” he says softly. He props his elbows on the counter, standing across from them and tilting his head to the side. They're not meeting his gaze, glazed eyes boring into the dripping candles. “What's wrong?”

“I'm sorry,” they whisper with a sniffle, and it sounds like a reflex. Something about them suddenly seems so much smaller. “I shouldn't be crying.”

“It's okay. I don't mind.” That makes them smile, even if it's shaky. “Was the singing too much?”

“No, it wasn't your singing,” they say with a laugh. “Your singing was lovely. It's just—I'm so happy. You made today so special.”

“Yeah?” He fights the urge to reach over and wipe their tears. “I'm glad. I wanted to make it good. I…” He hesitates. “...I didn't like the idea of you spending it alone.”

“I didn't either. And I thought I was going to have to be alone…but then you—then you took off work, and you made me breakfast, you went shopping with me—even got me clothes—and now this—” Another rush of tears gushes from their eyes, and they hastily wipe at it with their shirt. 

“You've done way more for me. This is the least I could do.” Before he can stop himself, his hand is brushing hair out of their eyes. They freeze for a split second, eyes finally flickering up towards him. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

“It's okay,” they whisper back. “Um…” They let out a shaky sigh, the sort of trembling sound that happens after crying too much. “I feel like I should explain.”

“You don't have to if you don't want to,” he assures them quickly, “but I…I'd like to know. If that's okay.”

“I want you to know. I, I do.” They open their mouth to keep talking, but shaky breaths continue to stifle them. It's hard to watch.

“Breathe,” he reminds them, quietly. He visibly takes in a deep breath, silently encouraging them to breathe with him. They follow suit, closing their eyes and taking a slow breath. Tears slip silently from their eyes. Gradually, their breathing becomes less of a staccato, evening out into something much more manageable. 

“Thank you,” they murmur. He nods. They already sound a lot calmer. “I'm not sure where to start. I…I suppose I'll start with today.” Another deep breath. “I didn’t get a call from my parents today.”

“Ah…” The first missing piece.

“I knew they weren’t going to. But a part of me still hoped…” They stop and shake their head. “It's the first year that it's been like this.”

“What happened?”

“Uh…I went no contact with my family about a year ago.” Another pained, hollow laugh. The second piece. “I didn't even really want to—it was a complicated, shitty situation. My parents were being their usual shitty selves, and I just wanted them to apologize. It was over such a small thing, and, and I just…I don't know. I thought maybe I could fix things.” He's never seen them with such a heavy expression, etched with such weariness. “I just wanted them to apologize to me, Carm. That's all I wanted. And then they cut me off cold.”

Their voice is trembling again, and the tears are falling faster. The collar of their shirt is dark with moisture. Carmy hates that he doesn't know what to say. He hates just staring at them, silent as he tries to find the words. 

Suddenly, he thinks of Michael. 

“Michael never let me work in the restaurant,” he tells them. “That's why I went to culinary school. A big part of it, anyway. He just cut me off, didn't let me in no matter what I did, and it was…” He makes a vague hand gesture. “I felt insane. I was so fucking angry. I couldn't understand him. And I'm not saying that's anything like what you've been through, but…” He looks into their watchful eyes. “I'm sorry. I think I'm trying to say that I, that I understand. A little.”

“I…I appreciate that.” They give him a small, wobbly smile. He adores their smile, but seeing it through their tears twists something painfully in his chest. “He would've been lucky to have you. You're an excellent chef.”

“I am now, anyway.” He sighs. “Your family's missing out on you, too. You're…” Say it. Just say it. “You're a really wonderful person. I can't imagine…”

I can't imagine anyone looking at you and not loving what they see, he thinks suddenly, and he instantly realizes he can't say it. He can barely even comprehend that he just thought it. 

He can't process this right now. This isn't the time. 

“I keep trying to wrap my head around it all, wondering what I did wrong, what I could've done better… Sometimes, the conclusion I arrive at is that I must have done something to deserve this. That I just, I don't know, that maybe I'm just this permanent fuck-up, and…” They run a tired hand over their wet face, through their hair. “My parents fucked me up real good, man.”

There's something familiar about their words, and Carmy realizes it's because it sounds like him. He would've never guessed that under their easy-going smiles was a reflection of himself. He recognizes himself in their self-deprecation, the bone-deep pain. There was always a sense of sympathetic connection between the two of them, but he had no idea. He had no idea how far deep the mutual experiences went. 

A part of him still can't believe that this is the truth, that this is what lies at their core, but then he remembers. He thinks about the night they were throwing up into the toilet. They were sobbing, crying into his shoulder about how much they hate themself. 

“You know you didn't deserve it. Right?” Carmy's not sure when they started leaning in so close to each other. He's looking at their wet eyelashes with startling clarity. “You did all you could.”

“You don't know that.” Their words are so soft-spoken, but it still catches him off guard. “You don't know what happened.”

“You—” Irritation prickles inside him, his instincts itching to snap back, but he doesn't. He sees himself in them, and he holds back. “You're right. I don't know what happened. But I know you.” The shock is on their face as clear as day. “At least, I think I do.”

“I want to think you do, too,” they whisper. “But this—this messy bullshit is also me. I wish it wasn't. I wish you didn't have to see all this. I…don't want you to…think any less of me.”

“I don't think there's anything you could do to make me think less of you.” He doesn't resist dragging his thumb across a stray tear on their cheek. To his surprise, they lean into his touch. “Y'know when I almost burned down the apartment?”

“Oh my god.” They smile, and he feels their grinning cheek against his palm. “Yeah. Is it crazy to say I remember it fondly?”

“A little bit.” They laugh. It's quiet, but it's real. “Remember that talk we had after?”

“I do. Why?”

“You're allowed to mess up on onions,” he says softly. “It won't push me away.”

They stare at him for what feels like a long time. Their eyes refill with tears, but they don't spill. With a clammy hand, they shakily place their hand on top of his hand that's still cradling their wet cheek.

“Fucking onions,” they say finally with a wet laugh. Fresh tears drip onto his thumb, and he wipes them away again. As many times as it takes. “God damnit, Carmy.”

“No one deserves to have shitty parents, let alone ones that walk out on them.” He thumbs away more tears. “You being an imperfect person like everyone else doesn't justify that.”

“There must be something more I could've done,” they whisper. “Something I did wrong.”

“Maybe. But they're your parents, not the other way around. It's not your fault.”

“I know. I know that. I do. There just has to be a reason, because—fuck—the truth would just be too fucked up.”

“...And that is?”

It takes a long, still minute before they can get their words out.

“...It’s—it's that—” Their cries are verging on sobs, increasingly more staggered and uncontrollable. “It's that s-some kids—are just—some kids have parents that will never—never love—”

They can't finish. Their sobs have overtaken their whole body. Their body's hunched over the counter, curled into themself. Carmy can't think of a time where he's ever seen them crying so hard.

Without another word, Carmy pulls them into a hug. 

They cry for a long time. Through it all, fleeting condolences pass Carmy by in his head, but they all feel too cheap, too meaningless. So all he does is hold them tight, letting them grab onto his shirt and soak the fabric on his shoulder. It's all he feels he can really do. 

After a while, the tide subsides. He feels them wilting in his arms, exhausted from sobbing so violently. He doesn't actually want to let them go, but their sniffling nose sounds like it's completely stopped up. 

“I'm gonna get you some tissues, ok?” He says quietly. They make a quiet noise of acknowledgement, and they pull back. He snatches up a box of tissues from the coffee table. He places it in front of them before grabbing them a glass of water. 

“Thank you,” they mumble, voice scratchy. Carmy stands and watches as they blow through several tissues. The water gets downed instantaneously. 

“Better?”

“Yeah. A lot better.”

“Good.”

“...I think, deep down, I know I didn't deserve what happened. Or just having shitty parents in general.” They sigh. “It's just easier to think that I do. That I deserve it.”

“...Yeah.” That resonates with a part of him he's not quite ready to acknowledge. “You're one of the kindest people I've ever met,” he admits quietly. “If someone like you deserves a shitty hand in life, I'm fucked.”

“Carmy…” Their smile is small, but genuine. “Thank you. I want to be able to genuinely believe that, one day. I'm going to try.”

“I know. I get it.”

“I know you do.” 

That makes both of them smile, even if it's bitter. 

“Thanks for telling me. About everything.”

“No, thank you for listening. For just being there for me.” They prop their chin in their hands, their elbows resting on the counter. “Y'know, this past year, I've been trying to find a sense of joy in all this mess. Sometimes it just feels so far away, like…like any happiness is just impossible. But I think I've found it. Rather, I've already found it.”

“Yeah?” Carmy looks at them expectantly, but he never expected this—

“I found you,” they tell him. 

“...” He immediately fixes his shocked expression. He's at a loss for words. 

Me?

“I never found a chance to mention it, but…my parents are the reason I decided to live with you. That's why I wanted to be your roommate, even though we were strangers.” They shrug shyly. “My lease was up on my last place. I was gonna go home, but then all that stuff happened at the last minute, and…yeah. I needed to find a place to live.”

“Seriously?” They just nod. “Damn. Uh…Yeah, that's fucking crazy. I had no idea.”

“At the time, I was miserable. I kept thinking to myself, ‘I can't believe how shitty this situation is!’ Don't get me wrong, it was fucking awful, but…it led me to you, so…it wasn't really all that bad, in the end. I got lucky.”

Fucking hell, he thinks to himself. Fuck.

“If you hadn't roomed with me, I wouldn't have been able to come back home for my brother's restaurant,” he says, mostly because he's so embarrassed that he swears his whole body's red at this point. Don't think about it. Don't think about it. “I think I'm the lucky one.”

“Can't we both be lucky?”

“I guess we can. Just doesn't seem very realistic.”

“Little too late to say that. It's already real.”

“...There's no other shoe?”

“Not that I know of. I think the other shoe's already dropped for us a while ago. Surely there's no other shoes left?”

“I hope not. I don't know if I could take another one.”

“Me neither.”

“...”

“...”

“Do you…want to eat your cake now?”

“Fuck, oh my god—I completely forgot! Yes!”

Just as Carmy planned, the flavors go perfectly together. Even though he knew it was going to be delicious, when he takes the first bite of the cake, relief washes over him. They seem to be overjoyed, inhaling the cake at dangerous speeds. 

“You're gonna hurt yourself if you eat that fast,” he observes, both amused and concerned. 

“Can't talk. Need to eat this.” That makes him laugh so abruptly he nearly gets cake up his nose. “This is the best birthday cake I've ever had, both visually and taste-wise.”

“I'm glad. Like I said, I'm not really a baker, but…I make an alright cake.”

“You make a fantastic cake.” They’ve got a bit of frosting on the corner of their mouth. “It doesn't get much better than this—eating a cake made by you.”

“Because I'm a chef, you mean?”

“No, not that. Not just that, anyway,” they amend with a cheeky grin. “Because you're my best friend.”

You're my best friend.

…

I'm their best friend, he repeats to himself. I'm their best friend.

He thinks about crying. He won't cry, but he thinks about it.

“Oh,” he replies intelligently. “...Really?”

“Y-Yeah. Unless, uh, you don't—”

“You're my best friend too,” he blurts out, and the anxiety on their face fades away into a relieved, beautiful smile. 

“Thank god. That would've been pretty awkward if you didn't…” They shake their head. 

“I've never been anyone's best friend before,” he confesses. 

“Seriously?” They recover from the shock quickly. “Lucky me, then.”

“I thought you established we were both the lucky ones.” 

“Oh, right.” They chuckle. “Lucky both of us, then.”

Carmy thought that life would always be the same. He thought that he was fated to a routine of nausea and nightmares, never quite close enough to reach a rest point. He thought that he was okay with it being his fate, because he never knew anything else. 

He thought that loneliness, cigarettes, and memories would be enough, because it always stays the same. Nothing ever changes. 

Until them. 

He thought he had outgrown happiness, that his body had grown accustomed to living without it. That there was no longer space in his heart to withstand the weight of joy. But as he sits here with his roommate, chatting and laughing over a cake he made for them, he finds that's not true.

His capacity for happiness had never left. It had been there all along. 

And with that, something in him lets go.

Carmy sees it all at once. It starts from the beginning—he sees the first day he met them, an initially hesitant meeting gone surprisingly well. He sees the first time the two of them smoked together, deliriously laughing through shared smoke. He sees them in the mornings, messy hair and wrinkled t-shirts. He sees them in nothing but an apron. He sees them in tight black clothes that leave little to the imagination. He sees them laughing at a joke that he didn’t think was all that funny. 

He sees them in his dreams, red tomato puree bleeding from their gums. He sees them holding his trembling hands in theirs, soothing him back down from the storm in his hand. He sees them comforting him through his tears. He sees them sobbing, hot tears on their cheek and his hand. He sees them heaving into the toilet, whispering that they want to know him. He sees himself, embracing them tightly in his arms. 

He sees it all. He knows that he can't avoid it anymore. 

Carmy is completely, undeniably in love with them, and there is absolutely nothing that he can do to make that realization disappear.

…Some things, he understands, refuse to stay the same.

~

@zorrasucia @carmenberzattosgf @carmenbrzatto @thehouseofevangelista

[musicalmoritz]

Hey uh ,,, do you have any songs that reminds you of tbhk? Like specific characters or relationships ?? (Also I plan on updating my mitsukou playlist I have for coping reasons so some recommendations on that would be nice) ( little cat ^. . ^ / )

OKAY so a little bit embarrassing but the way I listen to music 99% of the time is by imagining my hyperfixations with whatever I’m listening to so I am the perfect person to ask this question. Fair warning tho my music taste does dabble in basic territory. This is gonna be looooooong so fasten your seatbelts

• Using You by Mars Ago is such an AoiAoi song to me. There’s always one specific ship in a fandom that fits this song perfectly and for TBHK that is 100% AoiAoi

• Heart-Shaped Box by Nirvana gives me HakuSumi and Sakuhiko vibes. I lean more towards HakuSumi tho bcuz…well…those of you who know the meaning of this song will get it LOL

• Soooooo many Beetlejuice musical songs remind me of TBHK. I started to make like a whole playlist that told the plot of TBHK through musical theatre songs but I gave up after the Mitsuba arc and it never made it to Spotify. Maybe someday…

• Say My Name from Beetlejuice is obviously very HanaNene coded. And The Whole “Being Dead” Thing is giving Hanako coded. Dead Mom is very Kouded

• I Know It’s Today from the Shrek musical always makes me think of Nene

• Drift Away from Steven Universe…very Yako. Her waiting for Misaki every day before learning he died…oof

• Dear Theodosia from Hamilton Remind’s me of the Minamoto Siblings. With Teru as Burr singing abt Kou and then Kou as Hamilton singing abt Tiara

• Beautiful Boy by John Lennon reminds me of Teru and Kou

• On a similar note, I Wanna Hold Your Hand by The Beatles is soooooooo NeneMei coded. Yes I’m talking abt that scene where Nene asked Mei to hold her hand to trick her in an escape attempt. I think about it often

• Townie by Mitski makes me think of Teru. “I am not gonna be what my daddy wants me to be” yeah…

• Ever since I heard HISS by Megan Thee Stallion it has made me think of Teru. I feel like he would be her biggest fan

• Mine by Taylor Swift works so well for any Aoi ship but specifically Aoinene or AoiAoi. “You made a rebel of a careless man’s careful daughter” I mean c’mon her fears surrounding love all stem from her father abandoning her so yeah

• Okay you specifically asked for Mitsukou so I should probably talk abt them

• To me they are so Lana Del Rey core…Video Games…Ultraviolence…the Diet Mountain Dew demo…Summertime Sadness…Yes I know I’m making her most popular songs, hush

• Line Without A Hook by Ricky Montgomery. It’s extra gut-wrenching when it’s from Mitsuba’s pov imo but it works both ways

• Waving Through A Window from Dear Evan Hansen is so Sousuke core

• All of Taylor Swift’s Red album reminds me of them but specifically All Too Well (both versions), Red, Sad Beautiful Tragic, Stay Stay Stay, Begin Again, Better Man, Come Back…Be Here, The Very First Night, and…yeah basically all of Red (Taylor’s Version)

• Northern Downpour by Panic! At the Disco also makes me think of them, this is embarrassingly my favorite song of all time I can’t lie

• Lacy by Olivia Rodrigo is so Aoinene core, yes I have written a fic abt them with that title (a lot of these come from my fic titles ngl)

• Tainted Love by Soft Cell gives me strong Terukane vibes from Akane’s pov

• I Wanna Dance With Somebody and So Emotional by Whitney Houston both remind me of Aoinene as well, basically all of her album Whitney does ngl

• Edge of Seventeen by Stevie Nicks makes me think of Natsuhiko

• Bernadette by IAMX reminds me of Sakuhiko

• She Liked A Boy by Nxdia is very Aoinene coded

• Stupid With Love from the Mean Girls musical makes me think of MeiAoi, specifically the version with No.4 Mei

• Music of the Night from Phantom of the Opera is canonically Hanako coded like c’mon we have a whole au for this

• In addition, Think Of Mei is very Nene coded, All I Ask Of You is Mitsukouded, Notes is v Terukane coded, and the title song is so HanaNene

• Valley Of The Dolls by Marina is lowkey Aoi core with the whole “pick a personality” line and the concept of losing your identity as a woman due to the boxes society puts us in

• Gemini Moon by Reneé Rapp reminds me of Kou or Akane (mainly bcuz of the “I could never pick a side” line…bi kings)

• Fly Me To The Moon by Frank Sinatra makes me think of HanaNene (any old music does tbh, I have a whole playlist for it)

• Me and My Husband by Mitski is, like, THE Hakusumi song

• There Is A Light And It Never Goes Out by The Smiths is so Mitsukou like “to die by your side is such a heavenly way to die” ?? C’mon

• Violently shaking trying not to name every Fall Out Boy song in existence

• The Pros and Cons of Breathing is SO Aoinene guys (“wish that I was as invisible as you make me feel”)

• Hum Hallelujah could theoretically be Kou

• HOT TO GO! by Chappell Roan is the vibe I have assigned to Minami and Himari

• Stacy’s Mom for Mitsuba’s mother. No elaboration needed.

• You’re On Your Own, Kid by Taylor Swift makes me think of Teru :(

• Lithium by Nirvana reminds me of Akane but also every Nirvana song ever reminds me of Akane, I have assigned Akane to Nirvana

• Whitney Houston’s iconic cover of I Will Always Love You for HanaNene…yes indeed

• Taste by Sabrina Carpenter with Terukaneaoi (Teru sings it to Akane so instead it’s “you’ll just have to taste me while SHE’S kissing you”)

• I have assigned Olivia Rodrigo’s Guts album to HanaNene and Sour to Mitsukou

• Bcuz c’mon, Deja Vu is such a Mitsukou/Soukou song

• Maneater by Daryl Hall & John Oates is Ghost Hotel au Kou and then Maneater by Nelly Furtado is main universe Mitsuba (get it? bcuz cannibalism but also they’re gay-)

• I like the concept of a “maneater” being a gay man and a “womanizer” being a lesbian. Therefore Womanizer by Britney Spears is Mei’s song

• Oops! I Did It Again by Britney Spears is Aoi with AoiAoi

• Espresso by Sabrina Carpenter is Aoimei with OG Mei, Bad Chem is HakuSumi, and Please Please Please is Sakuhiko

• Holding Out For A Hero by Bonnie Tyler is a Natsuteru song I have dubbed it that way

• Landslide by Stevie Nicks is so Aoinene it hurts… “well I’ve been afraid of changing ‘cuz I built my life around you”

• Every Breath You Take by The Police reminds me of Mitsukou from Kou’s pov…my boy can get a little obsessive

• Obsessed by Olivia Rodrigo is THE Sakunene song, especially since Nene thought Sakura was Hanako’s girlfriend when they first met

• Honorable Mention by Fall Out Boy is lowkey Mitsuba like hear me out…or maybe more-so Sousuke

• Their song Pretty In Punk reminds me of both Mitsukou and Hanamitsu

• Two Player Game from Be More Chill is HanaKou and then A Guy That I’d Kinda Be Into is Mitsukou

• Part Of Your World from The Little Mermaid makes me think of Nene and then Poor Unfortunate Souls is Sakura (or Tsukasa). Kiss The Girl is HanaNene or Aoinene

• Kiss Me by Sixpence None The Richer is Terunene, I’m sorry Ik a lot of ppl hate it but I adore them

• On that note of overhated ships I love, Jessie’s Girl by Rick Springfield reminds me of TeruAoi

• Ooooh and Uptown Girl by Billy Joel is a MeiAoi song

• My Girlfriend Is A Witch by October Country is so Aoimei and Sakuhiko core

• I Fall In Love Too Easily by Chet Baker makes me think of Nene

• I could make a whole separate post abt TBHK and Taylor Swift songs so I’m trying not to yap abt her too much but When Emma Falls In Love also reminds me of Nene. And The Archer is Hanako. And Mirrorball is Akane. And The Lucky One is Aoi. And-

• The Masochism Tango by Tom Lehrer is so Mitsukou but specifically the way I write them, you guys have to see the vision (Natsuteru as well)

• Miss You Much by Janet Jackson is lowkey AoiAoi core, ngl I just wanted an excuse to bring up Janet Jackson

• And Escapade by Janet Jackson is Aoinene so real so true

• I have seen ppl attribute Picture You by Chappell Roan to Meinene and I agree. I will add that Casual is Sakuhiko core from Natsuhiko’s pov

• Rock ‘n’ Roll Suicide by David Bowie reminds me of Terukane, both as individual characters and as a ship

• I Know You by Faye Webster is like THE AoiAoi/Terukaneaoi song to me

• Paper Bag by Fiona Apple is Mitsuba to me, trust I will be writing a fic that uses a line from this song as the title (unless it’s already been done before…it’s a very popular song so like that’s possible…)

• Lonely Hearts Club by Marina makes me think of TeruAoi

• Animal Cannibal from Possibly in Michigan fits both Sumire and Mitsuba imo

• No Surprises by Radiohead makes me think of both Teru and Kou

• Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want by The Smiths also makes me think of Kou

• Our Last Summer by ABBA reminds me of the Severance arc in a very bittersweet way, specifically the ending

• Silver Springs by Fleetwood Mac fits like so many ships. Hakusumi, Mitsukou, HanaNene…

• Killing Me Softly With His Song by Fugees and Ms. Lauryn Hill makes me think of Sumire/Hakusumi

• I Put A Spell On You by Nina Simone is very Sakura core to me

• Heart Of Glass by Blondie with Mitsuba hear me out hear me out

• Smooth Criminal by Micheal Jackson with Aoi and the amount of times she’s almost died lol

• The Boys Of Summer by Don Henley with Hanako and Kou, or Kou/Yokoo/Satou

• Moon River with HanaNene. Now cry.

• Romeo And Juliet by the Indigo Girls with Aoimei

• Psycho Killer by the Talking Heads with Tsukasa

• And circling back to the musical songs. A Lovely Night from La La Land with MeiAoi

• Fight For Me from Heathers with Mitsukou. Candy Store with Terukaneaoi. Seventeen with HanaNene. Meant To Be Yours with any ship tbh these guys are all insane. Lifeboat with Aoi. Much to think about

• Stars from Les Misérables with Teru. Let me repeat. STARS FROM LES MISÉRABLES WITH TERU. He is so Javert coded Javert my babygirl from my favorite piece of media of all time that literally shaped who I am as a person

• Right Where You Left Me by Taylor Swift with Sumire

• Also all of the Sweeney Todd musical gives me TBHK vibes with all the cannibalism, I could make a whole au

• Camisado by Panic! At the Disco with Teru

• No Good Deed from Wicked with Hakubo snapping after Sumire’s death…Hakubo my beloved

• Popular from Wicked with Aoinene, What Is This Feeling? with Terukane

• The Confrontation from Jekyll & Hyde with the Yugi twins

• Don’t Rain On My Parade from Funny Girl with Nene

• Suddenly Seymour from Little Shop Of Horrors with Aoinene, AoiAoi, Mitsukou, or HanaNene

• I like to imagine Unlikely Lovers from Falsettos with Aoinene and Terukane

• Two Wuv by Tally Hall with Teruaoinene

• American Beauty/American Psycho by Fall Out Boy with AoiAoi

Okay I’m cutting myself off because the music + hyperfixation brainrot will never end. I hope this was somewhat enjoyable to ya’ll lol ty for giving me the chance to yap abt this

[jeonsweetpea]

Moonstruck (14)

Werewolf & Vampire Hybrid!AU, Supernatural!AU | Hybrid!Jungkook x Hybrid!Reader | Werewolf!Taehyung x Hybrid!Reader (ft. BTS)

genre: angst, e2l, supernatural, thriller, slow burn

rating: mature

description: Ari wants to see who truly loves you by pitting your lovers against each other.

word count: 6.3k

warnings: contains SPOILERS!!! kidnapping, cussing, fight scenes, betrayals, blood, dark magic, attempted assault, (temporary) deaths, 

a/n: The series is almost over! Just one chapter and I hope you’re enjoying reading as much as I am writing. Hope to hear your thoughts. Thanks for sticking around so long and giving my series a chance. <333 It's also on AO3 if you prefer reading over there!

Moonstruck Series Masterlist

“It’s a pity our own granddaughter has to die,” a gentle voice said. 

Your eyes slowly opened, revealing the old couple from before. An immediate realization dawned upon you as you noticed the chains, bounding you in the shape of an X to the cold stone wall. These were no ordinary chains—every wriggle, every struggle, intensified the pain. Wolfsbane and vervain were laced into the links, sending stinging sensations to your wrists and ankles. Your body felt groggy, so it was certain you were injected with something beforehand.

Last thing you recalled was falling into the frozen lake. The freezing water filling up your lungs… oh right. Jimin had killed you too. Just your luck.

Looking around, it was evident this wasn’t the lake. But it wasn’t the underground cellar or cave in the mountains. Where exactly were you?

“Don’t get soft on her now. She’s awake,” a gruff voice responded. 

“Granddaughter?” The question hung in the air, escaping your lips in a hushed whisper. Another whiff of your mother’s familiar perfume triggered a sudden realization. “You’re…” 

“Your grandparents? Yes, dear. It’s sad we had to meet this way, but we had to make sure you died once these stupid 100 days were over,” your grandfather replied. “Frankly, we should take matters into our own hands.”

“We can’t. We don’t have the stake and that witch girl is frightening. They’ll kill her at the end of the day anyway,” your grandmother assured. “Besides, it’s nice not having to get our hands dirty.”

“100 days?” you breathed, unable to form a coherent sentence. It was difficult battling the drowsy state forced on you.

“God, she sounds delirious. Yes. Because you sired that other abomination and Jimin and that Ari girl are so insistent in breaking that bond first before killing you.”

“Honestly, it doesn’t matter,” your grandfather retorted with his arms crossed. “As long as you’re dead in the end, all the hybrids you’ve sired will cease to exist too.”

The weight of this revelation jolted you out of your drowsy trance, and you shot them an alarmed glare.

“What did you say?”

“Oh? You didn’t know? When you create those repulsive hybrids and sire them, you form a sireline. It’s like a family tree that never goes away. So if you die, then all the non-Original hybrids you created will die too. Even if the sire bond is broken.”

“Is that true?”

"We didn't dedicate our lives to learning everything about you just to lie now."

"Then... does Jimin know about this? He'd never let Jungkook die," you questioned, sensing the answer in the subtle withdrawal of their body language.

“Of course he doesn’t know. He’s too hellbent on killing you to realize he’s gonna kill his lover too,” your grandmother sneered. She approached you and bent down eye-level, analyzing your features carefully. “Remarkable. You look just like your mother.”

You spat in her face and she wiped it away immediately, taking a few steps back. She chuckled at your feisty behavior, a dark amusement in her eyes.

“Mom will never forgive you for doing this!” you exclaimed.

“Do you think we care? We disowned her when she eloped. Who would’ve thought she was pregnant with you…”

“You’re my family. Why does it matter so damn much to you?” you asked, your voice teetering between anger and disappointment.

“Blame your mother and father. They were never supposed to fall in love, much less have a child. Your existence is a loop in Mother Nature and unnatural!” your grandpa exclaimed. “It took us an eternity to track you down. Imagine our surprise when Jung Dawon showed up to the hospital where we worked.”

You held your breath. “She was your patient?”

“I think her name is Jiwoo now, honey,” your grandma reminded with a pat on her husband’s shoulder.

“Ah, right, right. What would I do without you?”

The two of them started to snuggle their noses together, their display of affection making you want to vomit. 

“Hey! Don’t ignore me! You two treated Jiwoo during her coma?!” you asked.

“Yes. That’s how we crossed paths with Jimin, H.O.P.E.—shame they’ve disbanded now thanks to your professors, no doubt. And then the Jungs had to die or Jimin wouldn’t have upheld his deal in the bargain,” your grandmother informed.

“You killed Hoseok’s parents… You deserve hell.” A past memory suddenly resurfaced to the forefront of your mind. “Years ago, Dad said you reached out. Said you apologized and wanted to meet me. Was that all a lie?”

Her gaze met yours, an expression of feigned pity playing on her face as she nodded, and your grandfather, reveling in your naivety, let out a cynical chuckle.

“You’re lucky your mother was so stubborn and unwilling to meet us. She even went so far as to make you move homes time and time again. It’s like she knew we had cruel intentions,” the old woman remarked.

“Cruel? Is that what you call it? This is diabolical, I deserve to live just as much as you do! You call my existence unnatural, which is hypocritical considering none of us are human!”

“She talks too much,” the old man interjected.

“Yeah, let’s shut her up.”

“No, no! I’m going to reveal everything! You won’t get away with—”

It was futile. Your grandmother held your head still while your grandfather retrieved a ball gag from a nearby table. Your nose picked up wafts of vervain and wolfsbane, causing you to whimper. As the straps secured around your face, your skin ignited with pain, and you couldn't contain the sobs that escaped.

Your relatives walked away from you once the task was complete, heading for the stairs. The last words you heard were from your grandmother.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, darling.”

Meanwhile, back at the dimly lit cellar…

Cage 1: Jungkook, Taehyung, Sunghyun

In the first cage, Jungkook stood tall, his back against the bars. Taehyung was standing on the opposite side, muscles tense, while Sunghyun minded his business and rested on the cot in the middle of the two. 

Cage 2: Namjoon and Yoongi

In the adjacent cage, Namjoon lay unconscious, sprawled on the cold floor. Yoongi sat with his back against the cage, observing their surroundings with a calculating gaze.

Cage 3: Jin, Hoseok, Jiwoo

The third cage housed Jin, who gazed through the bars with a mix of determination and worry. Hoseok stood tall with his sister Jiwoo sitting beside him, a protective arm wrapped around her. 

No one dared to utter a word. Each person bore the weight of their own struggles in the metallic confines, the atmosphere oppressive and thick with tension. The silence broke when Taehyung got down on all fours.

“What are you doing?” Jungkook questioned.

“I’m getting out of here. [Y/N]’s in danger.” He closed his eyes, narrowing his focus while using his werewolf instincts.

“Turning won’t work. These cages were built to withstand supernaturals,” Jungkook recalled, his arms crossed in a display of frustration. Taehyung, irritated by the diversion of his focus, furrowed his eyebrows and then opened his eyes. 

“Well, it worked for Hoseok. Didn’t it?” he declared as he stood up, hands planted firmly on his hips.

“I was set up by you and Jimin! You tainted my food!” Hoseok argued. 

“Are you sure it wasn’t your lover over there?” Taehyung smirked, his words a venomous tease.

“Go to hell, Taehyung!” Yoongi exclaimed.

Chaos reigned as accusations flew, each member of the imprisoned group hurling blame and calling out their short-comings. Only did the sound of the creaking cellar door garnered their attention. The unexpected arrival turned out to be Ari, who was descending down the staircase in a frantic scramble. 

“Oh my god, what have I done? You all have to get out of here!”

A collective confusion lingered, yet none dared to question Ari's sudden change of heart. Retrieving the keys from her pocket, she approached the nearest cage—Taehyung's. Nervousness interfered with her attempt to unlock the padlock properly.

“Come on, Ari!” Taehyung yelled.

“I’m trying here!” 

In an unexpected twist, Ari fell to her knees, clutching her chest and breathing heavily. She let out a pained groan, followed by an unsettling expulsion of water. “Oh… that can’t be good.”

“What the hell is happening to you?” Professor Jin asked, gripping the cage bars for a closer look. “The dark magic is killing you!”

“It’s not that. Jimin’s trapped in the frozen lake. He’s drowning and dying over and over.” Struggling to stand, Ari's focus remained on the stubborn padlock. “I’m running out of time. She’s going to come back soon.”

Moments later, the padlock clicked open. She swung the cage door open, urging the boys to escape.

“Where do you think you’re going?” A dark, menacing voice emanated from Ari's lips, her face contorting as if an evil force sought to break free.

"Let them go!" The familiar, authoritative tone sounded like the Ari they knew, yet beneath the surface, a fierce battle between the light and darkness waged.

“No. You’re too weak to stop me!” 

Ari threw up some more water as she collapsed to the floor with a thud. She reached her hand out to the boys and whispered. “Run…”

Her hand dropped and she was unconscious. The shock of it all left everyone frozen when her eyes suddenly fluttered open, pitch black, and she scrambled to her feet at lightning speed. 

Taehyung, Jungkook, and Sunghyun rushed upstairs but it was too late. Ari used dark magic to telekinetically rip out Sunghyun’s heart, permanently killing him. His remaining corpse fell down stairs as Jiwoo shrieked. Hoseok shielded his sister away from the sight in a tight embrace, trying his best to calm her down.

“Now… you two. Don’t worry, I won’t kill you. We still have to go talk to your beloved [Y/N].”

She knocked them out with the snap of her fingers before teleporting them to your location.

You gave into exhaustion and surrendered to a nap for however long possible. Nothing mattered anymore. You were trapped and because of your reckless plan, so was everyone else. Your grandparents wanted you dead and at this point, you yearned for an end. 

What stirred you from your slumber was the sound of groaning. You slowly opened your eyes and saw Taehyung and Jungkook lying on their stomachs a few feet away. They were chained to the floor like animals. 

Jungkook was first to fully regain his senses, sitting up right away at the sight of you. “[Y/N]! You’re alive—oh fuck. What did they do to you?”

The ball gag and restraints didn’t aid in your efforts to communicate as the only sounds you could make were whimpers. Taehyung, driven by desperation, got on his knees and tugged at his chains madly.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you out. It’ll be okay!”

In the heart of the room, Ari manifested from the ceiling and floated down like an angel. A dark one, that is.  

“What is it about you, hmm? You have not only one but TWO suitors who are willing to do whatever it takes to save you. To love you. Meanwhile, I can’t even have one…”

She landed gently on the ground as she circled around Jungkook, eyes locked into yours. “You said Jimin never loved me, but what about you? Do you really think Jungkook loves you? He admitted feelings for another.”

You bit your lip to fight back tears. This was too painful to deal with.

“[Y/N], don’t listen to her. Listen to me,” Jungkook begged. The sadness within your gaze caused a pang in his heart. “This is the truth. There were times I spent the night at his dorm because I couldn’t stand watching you with Taehyung. I got to bond with him on a deeper level. He was the first friend I had outside of you that didn’t judge me. Didn’t make me feel like a loser. Like I was weak.”

“So you kiss him,” Taehyung remarked. “A little heart-to-heart and you’re all tongues.”

“He kissed me!” Jungkook snapped at him. He refocused on you. “During the sparring session. I was trying to get information out of him. Promise! Of course I felt something; it was a kiss. It surprised me. But that doesn’t mean he’s the one I love.”

“Excuses, excuses,” the werewolf said with a dismissive hand gesture. 

“You don’t get to judge something you don’t understand. The sire bond affects emotions and it’s almost broken. I’ve been living my life through a filter! I don’t know what’s what anymore.”

“It doesn’t matter. You didn’t believe her when it mattered most. Nothing’s worse than not being believed. She must’ve been crushed.”

Taehyung’s right. You were.

“You watch your mouth!”

“Or what? We’re all chained because that bitch of a witch can’t stand the fact her boyfriend is in love with you! This is all your fault!”

Ari cackled and rushed over to Taehyung’s side like a devil whispering in his ear. “That’s right. Rile him up.”

“Get the hell away from me,” Taehyung huffed in disgust. “You killed Sunghyun.”

Your eyes widened, devastated at this information. Professor Jin was right. The Ari you knew was long gone; she would never murder someone in cold blood. 

Your ex-best friend paced back and forth and then shrugged. “Oh, please. You don’t care about him.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want you near me.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re lucky you’re not dead. Sunghyun was asking for it by trying to escape. And he showed Jungkook my journal.”

Jungkook’s ears perked up at this. Ari smirked and continued, “Yeah. I know about it. My old self had a tendency to jot everything down and then spelled her drawers, so I wouldn’t be able to see it. That is, until you and Sunghyun used his amulet to bypass it. Thanks for that.”

She snapped her fingers and the journal in question appeared in her hands. She flipped it open and hummed in amusement. 

“Hmm… wow, I really did not hold back. Lots of juicy information in here. But,” she closed the book, “she didn’t write everything down. You really want to know the truth, Jungkook? The whole truth?”

“What is your end goal, huh? Where’s Jimin?” Jungkook questioned. Ari replied with nothing but a smirk. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Let me talk to him. I can stop all of this. He can have me as long as he lets [Y/N] go.”

Ari grabbed his neck in a chokehold and he wheezed, powerless against her unexpected strength. “You really are stupid, aren’t you? Jimin is mine and mine only. There was a time when I’d share him, but not anymore.”

She released him with a fierce anger, and he coughed, struggling to regain composure on all fours.

“Turn,” she commanded and Jungkook snapped his neck up to look at her. 

“What?”

“It’s the last day of the sire bond. You have to turn one more time, right? So do it.”

“You’re delusional. I’m not doing anything you say.”

“Come on. Amuse me. You might be able to save your precious [Y/N] by turning.”

“No.”

Ari fumed at his response, kicking him in the stomach and forcing him to fall on his back. She stomped on him multiple times, your muffled screams rendered useless. The air was charged with tension as Ari spoke, her voice tinged with frustration and jealousy.

"Do you have any idea how infuriating it is, Jungkook? Watching you and her, with your damned sire bond, risking everything for each other. It's sickening!"

Jungkook grabbed her foot to stop her from crushing his ribs any further. “Ari… this bond is beyond our control. It’s not something we asked for.”

Ari scoffed at his response. “So why won’t you turn? End it. End this stupid connection you have with her. Show everyone your love was conditional, a hoax!”

She left his aching body and went up to you, a clawed hand in front of your face with a malevolent black glow. 

“Turn or I’ll kill her,” she threatened, the White Oak Stake presenting herself in her grasp. Panic gripped you at the sight of the weapon. “That’s right, bestie. This is the one and only stake that can kill an original hybrid.”

“Don’t lay a finger on her!” Taehyung roared. She turned around, tapping the stake against her palm in a rhythmic cadence, reminiscent of a stern ruler used for chastising children in the past.

“Ah, yes. The other lover is vying for your affection. God, you just can’t catch a break with these two!”

“This doesn’t have to end this way. We both want the same thing. I’ll talk to Jimin, we’ll figure something out. As long as Jungkook is out of the picture, it’ll be worth it! We can still be a team.”

“Team?” Jungkook questioned. 

“We?” She let out a chuckle. “There is no ‘we.’ You and Jimin have dictated everything from the start. He strung me along like a fool. All I wanted was his love. I was willing to risk it all only for him to want someone else and cast me aside entirely!”

She faced Jungkook. “My journal revealed all of Jimin’s plans, but not Taehyung’s. I think you’ll find this interesting.”

Taehyung's gaze narrowed, a subtle intensity flickering in his eyes as he shook his head slowly.

“You’re making a big mistake.”

“Where do I start? Oh. Taehyung is the one that ordered H.O.P.E to attack you that dreaded day. You know, the day that started it all.”

Ari reveled in the chaos she had orchestrated, the atmosphere thick with tension and despair. Jungkook's eyes burned with fury as he faced Taehyung, betrayal and anger intertwining in the lines of his furrowed brow.

“You planned this? The attack, the kidnapping?”

Taehyung, unapologetic, met Jungkook's accusatory gaze with a stoic expression.

“[Y/N] could’ve died! We all could’ve!” Jungkook exclaimed. 

“The plan was only for you to die. That way [Y/N] would find comfort in me and only me. But then you survived. Stupid sire bond.”

“Oh yeah, the whole scavenger hunt thing was also Taehyung’s idea. Jimin pretended to be a hunter to kidnap [Y/N],” Ari added. Jungkook’s confusion was blatant.

“What on earth could that possibly accomplish for you, Tae?”

The werewolf shrugged, reluctant to answer. Ari, the puppeteer of chaos, was more than willing. 

“He was betting on [Y/N] saving him with her blood. Then he was going to kill himself to become sired to her like you.”

“You crazy bastard!” Jungkook roared, chains rattling as he attempted to pounce on Taehyung but couldn’t. “All of this pain and suffering, all for some twisted desire to be bound to her?" This isn’t love, it’s obsession! You don’t deserve her!”

Taehyung held his ground. “And you do? I actually want to be bound to her for life. All you’ve ever done was taken her for granted! Just turn already!”

“If I do turn, it’s to rip you to shreds!”

“Yes~, yes~!” Ari cried. “Indulge in your anger! Let the beast out!”

She ripped his clothing off with no remorse, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. Seeing him stripped against his will left him vulnerable and the humiliation almost killed him. He punched the ground, the concrete pulverized into tiny pieces and his knuckles bloody. 

Clapping eagerly, Ari urged for him to turn. You hated seeing him in such a vulnerable state. When your gazes met, there was nothing but shame and heartbreak. You didn’t know what to expect once the 100th day arrived, but this definitely was not it.

“Maybe one isn’t enough,” Ari remarked, striding over to Taehyung’s side and tearing his clothes to shreds. “You turn too. Fight each other. You want Jungkook dead and [Y/N] all for yourself, right?”

“Fuck you, I’m not some pawn for you to toy with!”

“Aw, come on. I’m actually helping you out here. I know tonight’s not a full moon, so it’ll hurt like a bitch. But don’t you want [Y/N] to see how sexy it is for you to turn anyway? You said you love her.”

She sauntered back over to you, the White Oak Stake dangerously close to your chest. 

“Either you guys turn and battle each other or this goes through her heart.”

She casted a spell and had the stake hovering in front of your chest and the boys roared with anger, but had no choice. The air thickened with an impending sense of dread. You, restrained and unable to look away, watched as Taehyung and Jungkook grappled with the impending transformation, a painful struggle that unfolded before your eyes.

The first tremors wracked Taehyung's form as his body contorted with the agony of shifting. Bones cracked and muscles rippled beneath his skin, the visceral sounds of transformation echoing in the confined space. His anguished groans reverberated through the cold, unforgiving walls. Without a full moon, this process was far more difficult to go through, but he persevered thanks to the emotional intensity of his love for you.

Beside him, Jungkook's transformation mirrored Taehyung's torment. The once-human features distorted, replaced by the primal visage of a werewolf emerging from the depths within. Claws unsheathed and black fur sprouted, a physical manifestation of the feral power coursing through him.

You’ve watched countless transformations over the years, but none were as painful as this one. It was as if your heart was being incinerated, the connection between you and Jungkook severed. A part of you cherished the pain because it’d be the last time you two would feel each other’s emotions. 

Ari watched with a sadistic smile, leaning close to your ear. 

“This is fun, isn’t it? Love versus obsession. Or maybe love and obsession are the same. They’re trying so hard to save your life.”

Your silence earned a “tsk” from her.

“Don’t feel like talking?” she taunted. “Well get this. Remember how my grandmother was the one who taught me magic? She visits me in my dreams sometimes. Do you want to know what she told me?”

Jungkook and Taehyung’s combined screams of agony made it difficult to focus on her voice, but she leaned in even closer, whispering ever so softly.

“My grandma delved into dark magic once. Your father made a deal with her. He paid her to make your mother fertile. With you.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. You clenched your fists in disbelief and whined, not wanting to hear more.

“That’s right. You were conceived with dark magic. You always told me it seemed like the universe was against you and now you know why. Darkness follows you wherever you go; you’re not meant to be happy. That’s how you were able to use my dark potions. That darkness lives inside you. And it’s your father’s fault.”

Tears welled up in your eyes before cascading down your face. She giggled at your suffering, adding salt to the gaping wound in your heart.

“It must hurt to know every single person in your life has betrayed you in some way. You have no one left.”

The transformations were nearing completion. Sounds of bones snapping and muscles contorting filled the basement, a symphony of agony that echoed the torment of Taehyung and Jungkook’s dual existence. Taehyung's body convulsed, his once-human features now obscured by the emerging gray fur, streaked with haunting shades of white. Jungkook's transformation mirrored the shadows, his form engulfed by inky blackness as he fought against the pain that laced every fiber of his being.

As the final moments of the agonizing metamorphosis approached, the chains binding them groaned under the strain, holding firm until the transformation reached its peak. 

“One more thing,” Ari whispered. “The stake has been spelled to kill Jungkook once he finishes transforming.”

“No!!!” you screamed, although muffled. “Jungkook stop!!!”

Jungkook, having more experience, finished his transformation before Taehyung’s. Ari turned to you with a wicked smile. 

“Enjoy the show, [Y/N].”

You watched in despair as the spelled stake launched through the air straight for Jungkook when Jimin emerged from the shadows, his silhouette cutting through the dim light. His eyes, determined and resolute, locked onto the impending threat aimed at Jungkook. He leaped in the way, the impact of the enchanted stake against Jimin's body resonated through the basement. 

His shoulder had been hit, but it was not a fatal wound. In the stunned silence that followed, Jimin's eyes met Jungkook's with an unspoken understanding. 

The next few minutes were a blur. Taehyung completed his transformation and was liberated from his chains seconds after Jungkook. Ari, relentless in her pursuit, launched another attack at Jungkook, but Jimin intercepted with a spell of his own. You squinted and recognized the blinding glow of Sunghyun’s amulet around his neck. 

The black wolf and Jimin united forces and the two of them battled Ari together. 

Meanwhile, Taehyung sprinted to you, using his teeth to pry the chains from your limbs. As the metal links fell away, you fell on top of the beast’s body. Using his agile speed,. Taehyung bolted out of the building as fast as possible, leaving Jungkook, Jimin, and Ari behind to hash things out.

You clung onto his back as he navigated through a common neighborhood with the veil of nighttime, your fingers tightly entangled in his fur. Though a bit groggy, you could feel whatever was in your system was wearing off gradually. It dawned on you that you were held captive in the Jung family’s old house, specifically the secret basement Professor Jin and Yoongi had uncovered months ago.

Taehyung kept running until he reached the secrecy of the woods. As he eased to a stop, you rolled off his back, laying on the forest floor and taking deep breaths. The wolf nudged your cheek with his nose, a comforting gesture, followed by a few licks to your face, as if to ease your worries. 

As much as you loved the notion, you couldn’t erase the truth of what he had done. You swiftly got to your feet and shook your head.

“Stop. I know what you’re doing.” He lowered his head and let out a whine. Human or wolf form, he had mastered the puppy dog eyes. He nuzzled his head against your side, desperate for solace, but you rejected him. “Taehyung, no!”

As you retreated, your foot came into contact with something, kicking it further backwards. Turning around, the moonlight revealed the mystery object buried in the snow. The sight pulled an involuntary scream from your lips, causing a startle strong enough to make you fall on the cold snow.

There laid your grandmother’s decapitated head and with little effort, you spotted your grandfather’s nearby.

Taehyung had reverted back to his human form and wrapped his arms around you in a protective embrace.

“Shhh, shh,” he cooed in his deep, soothing voice. “It’s okay.”

You pushed him hard enough that he fell onto the snow. “Did you do this?”

His eyes widened as he stared at you, shocked. “I’ve been spending the last few hours TRAPPED because of you. How the hell would I have time to do this?!”

You sat criss-cross, hands on your head in distress. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

He grunted, rising to his feet, and offered you his hand. You peered up, finally registering he was without clothing in the moonlight. The soft glow accentuated every chiseled feature of his handsome face, rendering you speechless. Staring at his hand, you contemplated taking it. 

“No,” you finally said, getting up by yourself. “I don’t even know why I’m apologizing. You brought the hunters here. You were working with Jimin. YOU wanted Jungkook dead.”

“I promise when I conspired with Jimin, he didn’t tell me he was going to kill you. He wanted to be with Jungkook and I wanted to be with you. Believe me, darling. I had no clue of his true intentions.”

You were sick of crying, but that was all you wanted to do. Angry tears were slowly dripping down your face as you used hand gestures to convey your frustration.

“I can’t just forget it all.”

Taehyung cupped your face with both hands, his eyes full of hope and desperation. “But what if you did? Let’s run away together. Start over and forget all this misery.”

“I can’t.”

“You can,” he murmured, placing a chaste kiss on your lips to seal his words. “You and me.”

He continued to kiss you despite your feeble pleas for him to stop. Your tone lacked conviction, perhaps due to exhaustion. Maybe you found a glimmer of belief in his words. Or maybe deep down, you craved his touch to momentarily replace your ache. 

The warmth of his lips, the weight of his breath, the hand on the small of your back—you melted for a fleeting moment. In the end, you had to force yourself to pull away.

“Tae—”

“Allow me to tell you my offer before you make a choice.” He placed his hands on your shoulders, staring deep into your eyes. “If you allow it, I will whisk you away to where you will only experience peace and be loved the way you deserve. In the daytime, I will be your loyal companion, a listening ear, anything your heart requires to feel at ease. Soft kisses, warm candlelight, watching your favorite show on repeat,” he said with a chuckle. Then his eyes darkened with lust. 

“Later deep into the night, I will be your source of release, making love to you for hours on end until you’re drowning in pleasure that humans wish they could experience. Passionate kisses, lingering touches, our sweaty bodies pressed together.”

He squeezed your shoulders with gentle pressure and brought you closer until your chests were touching.”

“I don’t want nobody else. You are all that matters. Not your fertility, not your history. Just you.”

Your resolve was crumbling. Taehyung knew all the right things to say and knew how to make you feel good. You wished things were different but at the moment, you wanted no one. You just wanted things to end.

“Tae… I can’t. I need… I need to be by myself. This is too much.”

“Too much?” Taehyung’s grip on your shoulders suddenly felt tighter. You didn’t even register how fast he pinned you down, hands held above your head. “Was it too much when I fucked you?“

“Stop! What are you doing?”

“Answer me!” He started to grind his cock against your thigh unashamed, the heavy pants causing chills to go down your spine. “Didn’t it feel good? Didn’t you enjoy it?”

He slipped a knee between your legs, pressing down hard enough to elicit a whimper from your lips. 

“Let me take you again. I’ll make sure you feel good.”

He placed searing kisses along your neck much to your dismay. You refused to lay still, squirming around to avoid contact, but you were still too weak to retaliate. 

“S-Stop,” you sobbed. 

He removed his hands from your own and grabbed onto the column of your throat, admiring your struggle. “You always did like it rough. So beautiful. So sexy…”

To your relief, he didn’t choke you but caressed your neck gently like it was the most beautiful thing in the world. Realizing his true intentions behind that action, you summoned every ounce of strength to act quickly. Planting your feet firmly on the ground, you arched your back, utilizing the leverage to break free from Taehyung's hold. In a swift, well-timed move, you twisted your body and managed to flip the situation.

Now he was the one pinned down and you swung at him once. Twice. Then once more to ensure he was unconscious. You let out screams of rage while doing so, hating everything he’s become.

When he no longer moved, you rose from the cold ground, your steps heavy in the snow. That was when he grabbed at your ankles, forcing you to stumble forward.

“There’s no reason to stand,” he said in a venomous tone, “I like you better on all fours.”

The sounds of your struggles entwined with his grunts as he scrambled to lay on top of you, clawing at your body with his greedy hands, not caring how he was shredding your clothes or how you were getting bloody scratches from his nails. He wrapped his arm around you in a secure chokehold and you began to lose vision.

“You sure pack a punch. I’ll bite.”

Taehyung’s eyes shifted to a fiery goldenrod as he bare his fangs, sinking them into the side of your neck harshly. You let out the most blood-curdling scream as crimson dripped down and tainted the snow. It was like the world stood still, the betrayal amplifying the unimaginable pain. 

He finally released you after he got his fill, making an obscene lip-smacking sound after having tasted you. 

“You know, you always look so much better when I mark you up. I always claim what’s mine, [Y/N]. And that includes y–”

A sudden blast of magical energy knocked Taehyung off your back and his body landed far away, rolling in the snow until it came into contact with a tree. You’d be sure to thank your savior if you made it out of this alive. All you desired was to fall into a deep slumber, hoping this was a simple nightmare. 

You felt someone’s hand rolling you onto your back and you saw the shiny amulet around his neck. 

“Jimin… what irony…”

“I’m not saving you,” he said, holding the White Oak Stake above you. Seems like he was going to end you for good. “I just needed him out of my way.”

You didn’t have it in you to explain why you deserved to live. Not even for Jungkook’s sake, considering your lives are linked. You closed your eyes and accepted your fate. Jimin watched you carefully, his hand trembling. He couldn’t do it. 

When he was drowning in the lake, the amulet fortunately collided with his body and ended up saving him. He then had an encounter with your grandparents, overhearing them talk about the sire line. He was left in the dark, hating that if he ended you, he’d lose Jungkook too. So he murdered them out of spite for hiding something so crucial.

And now, when his plans were so close to fruition, he just couldn’t risk it. Part of him hoped your grandparents were lying, but what good would that do them now? Their main objective had always been eradicating hybrids. The thought of them going after Jungkook never crossed his mind and he felt incredibly stupid.

You opened your eyes after some time had passed. Jimin was quick to notice, so he raised the stake up high, forcing himself to express determination to kill you. Underneath his facade, you could see the internal struggle raging within him.

“You can’t do it, can you?” you breathed. 

“Shut up!”

“You know about it. The sireline. That’s why you’re hesitating, isn’t it?” Your question reignited the conflict burning within him and he snapped, bringing the stake downwards with force, aiming towards your chest. 

However, your moonstone necklace blazed with intense light, stopping Jimin in his tracks. You couldn't help but notice the eerie similarity to the glow emanating from his amulet when they were in closer proximity. No matter how hard he pushed, the stake wouldn’t budge any further. 

That’s when Taehyung pounced onto Jimin, sinking his teeth into his neck. A struggle unfolded in the snow, but Jimin finally overthrew him. Blood spurted from Jimin’s neck and mouth as he fell to his knees and then collapsed completely. 

You stood up, mirroring Jimin by clutching the side of your neck as you walked toward him. There was no way he was going to survive a second werewolf bite. Not this time. 

Silence lingered between you and Jimin, an unspoken exchange of emotions, a complex tapestry of anger, sadness, and spite colliding with exhaustion, frustration, and burnout.

But the ordeal was far from over.

Taehyung ran over to you, shaking you by the shoulders. 

“Do you fear me? Do you hate me?” His eyes gleamed with madness, a wicked smile on his lips. “Nothing is going to stop us from being together. I want you to do it. Kill me!”

You were tortured by his existence and he knew it, exploiting it to his advantage. But if you ended him, that would be falling right into his twisted trap. With his blood in your system, he’d become a hybrid. 

“N-No.”

“Kill me, [Y/N]! I know you want to! Do it!” He roared, forcefully grabbing your hands and pressing them against his neck. “Strangle me! Rip my heart out!”

“You’re being crazy, stop!!!”

A snarl in the distance froze both of you. As Taehyung looked over his shoulder, a black wolf emerged, lunging at him. Taehyung was jovial in his struggle against the wolf, elated to have his wish granted.

“That’s right. Take your anger out on me. She doesn’t love you anymore! Your love was a sham!”

Jungkook growls intensified, clawing him to a gruesome death. You ran over as fast as you could, desperate to stop him.

“Jungkook no! Don’t do it! He bit me!”

As if your words reached him, Jungkook transformed back into his human form, staring at his blood-covered hands in horror. Seeing your neck wound, guilt consumed him, and he fainted.

"What have I done?" he whispered before collapsing. You caught him just in time.

"Jungkook? Jungkook, wake up!" You patted his face urgently. "No, no. What's going on?"

In the distance, you spotted someone crawling through the snow toward Jimin's dying body. Marching over, you grabbed Ari by the collar.

"Ari, what the hell is happening?! Fix it! You're a witch, you're strong. Do something!"

She shook her head. "I can't… I'm dying too. Jimin and I… we're linked."

“What?!”

“The night of the banquet when we took shots of alcohol… I spelled it to link our lives forever.”

“Oh my god… what about Jungkook? He’s not waking up!”

“Why do you think?” she said in a hoarse whisper. “He and Taehyung are linked too.”

[questionablemorally]

Sebard hcs AGAIN (+ a few nsfw ones under the cut… minors avert your eyes this blog isn’t really for you) because I realise I haven’t posted in a WHILE.

Bard sometimes drags Sebastian to bed when he sees him still walking around long after all the others have gone to sleep, worried that he’s not sleeping properly (not like Seb needs sleep, but it’s the thought that counts - also pretty sure I’ve mentioned this before but I just really love this it’s so funny to me)

Sebastian often scolds Bard on his smoking habits, but occasionally he tries a cigarette when it’s late at night and it’s been a stressful day, even for a demon. Neither of them talk about it in the morning. Bard just gets to smile knowingly as Seb has another go at him for smoking.

Whenever Bard sees Sebastian, he gets an overwhelming urge to mess up his appearance - because no guy is THAT perfect, surely? He’ll ruffle his hair (he has to stand on his toes, though, or drag the tall bitch down), loosen his tie, mess up his tailcoat, anything.

Small one but whenever Seb makes a dumb one-liner or pun Bard rolls his eyes very obviously. It’s fine though because Seb does the same whenever Bard makes a stupid dad joke.

They have a casual relationship… and by that I mean it’s bordering on ‘friends with benefits’. Bard would never admit the extent of his feelings for Sebastian, and Sebastian likes having the opportunity to blow off some steam… also he thinks it’s funny when Bard is awkward after one of their trysts.

They have 100% done it in the kitchen. There is no way they haven’t… possibly late at night, when all other servants have gone to bed, or when everybody is distracted and elsewhere.

Mey-Rin once walked in on the two in the kitchen… except, to her, it was just Bard - because Sebastian was on his knees, on the other side of the counter, and hidden. Seb greatly enjoyed watching Bard try to cover up his reactions because Seb is GOOD (years of practice paying off, huh?)

It didn’t take very long for Bard to realise Seb actually liked a bit of pain… okay that would be an understatement. I like to think he discovered this when mid-session he accidentally yanked Seb’s hair (like full on PULLED) and felt pretty bad for a second until he saw how much he enjoyed it and went ‘well fuck it’ and went with it. The discussion after that was an awkward one.

It’s been way too long I’m so sorry to deliver such a short one! But… a little spoiler here… I am possibly writing a sebagni modern au story if you’re interested because sebagni has been on the brain atm.

Okay have a nice day everyone and tell me what to do next if you want anything specific :)

[vickyvicarious]

There were even such books of reference as the London Directory, the "Red" and "Blue" books, Whitaker's Almanac, the Army and Navy Lists, and—it somehow gladdened my heart to see it—the Law List.

Me at first: I am getting cute aggression stop!

Me now: Wait, what if Dracula is studying the Law List in order to find ways around the system like what legal strings must be pulled to enter an inhabited house uninvited.

Well, he is still deeply adorable. Baby Solicitor comforted to see Law in the wild. I love it just as much now.

But yeah, also that's an alarming idea, and something I 100% would believe. Something I don't think Dracula often gets enough credit for is how innovative he is about the rules of vampirism in this book. He absolutely does some rules-lawyering of his own, and in fact his entire plan is dependent on a pretty clever move with the whole if I surround myself in my native soil then I'll be fine to cross running water trick. And he also is pretty good at thinking of backup plans and contingencies. He eventually has a bunch of those here in the castle with Jonathan, such as:

Jonathan is locked in so he can't get out

He doesn't know the exact way back even if he did

While he's lost in the wood wolves could hunt him down before he found friendly people, if he did escape

Dracula's impersonation of him turns the locals against him if he did get to them, past the wolves, lost in the woods, through the locked doors

Also no one at home will know what happened to him because of his dictated letters and Dracula's impersonation, suggesting an entirely different timeline/location for him vanishing

And all of this layers well with other goals, such as isolating and emotionally torturing Jonathan. Stuff like his multiple lawyers/homes for his multiple dirt boxes to be stashed are also really clever. Dracula can make a good plan... given enough time/control over a situation. But he consistently underestimates his opponents, because he believes he is so innately superior to them. In doing so, he leaves gaps, opportunities they can take advantage of without him even realizing (sticking to the Jonathan example: his diary, some of his more extreme snooping, the final escape. Or later on, a fantastic example is Mina turning his attack on her against him, both choosing to spy back on him, and figuring things out from his triumphant evil monologue).

He also gets impatient and stubborn. I've mentioned before how he could have played the entire Lucy situation much smarter had he been more patient/less outraged at people here figuring out a way to temporarily hold him off. And when things go wrong, he's not great at pivoting in any kind of subtle/clever way. He defaults to anger, force, shows of power. And again, that can be used against him.

Sorry, I got totally away from your point. Yes, I agree, he'd try. And it would be completely in-character for him to overlook that actual lawyers might be able to out-maneuver him in such an area, and he'd get stupid-mad should they mess up some plan by doing so. That could be a fun thing to incorporate into some kind of AU (where Lucy survives: imagine if Mrs. Westenra's lawyer insisted on putting in some kind of clause that she kept the house at least until her marriage was finalized) (preventing Mina's attacks/saving Renfield: if the lawyer characters put together the stuff with Lucy and looked into the legal documents for the asylum, maybe putting some document together that changed the wording to restrict his access unless only Seward invited him in, or Renfield's invitation only went for the main asylum, not Jack's private rooms, or whatever).

[mixelation]

i was thinking about reborn au & the iwa chunin exams and i..... genuinely do not know what tori can actually do?? cut also contains me whining about timing of events

okay, so my timeline:

i usually do everything timeline-wise relevant to team 7's age, so: itachi is ~5 years older than sasuke, which makes tori ~4 years older. i headcanon the hyuuga affair as being part of the end of the third shinobi war, so tori would be ~7 when that happened.

the ame trio prevent a lot of fighting happening in rain country, so sound is actually a lot worse off than the original timeline (although tori... doesn't know this). her adoptive clan is having SEVERE supply issues so she doesn't actually get much instruction with anything metal until orochimaru officially unites the sound country clans into oto. i'm debating the effect of ame not being the stage for war having the effect of making it last longer, so tori is anywhere from 8 to 10 when suddenly she's part of oto

i'm not sure what orochimaru implements in terms of training? the Vibe i was going for is that he wants to improve childhood training because his next move is going to be icing out (or murdering) the adults bc he wants a hoard of shinobi who are 100% loyal to him. idk, maybe he unites them before the end of the war and sends a lot of adults to their deaths. so tori might have actual instruction from like 7-8?

i don't think tori actually LIKES most training. she doesn't super care about being a badass; she wants to research how chakra works and make a lot of insane seals to test her theories. so she taps out of training whenever she can in oto, which becomes increasingly often as she's given more independence as a researcher.

i think orochimaru would base any training program on the konoha academy curriculum, so tori definitely knows the basic 3 jutsu. since she spends all her time thinking about chakra, i think i'll let her have pretty good instincts on how to mold chakra. she rarely struggles to learn ninjutsu, but she doesn't have a ton of chakra and she doesn't have a lot of motivation or teachers available. no one's formally taught her treewalking bc anything beyond the basic training in oto is sort of chaotic and she doesn't have a built in family structure to learn it from, so she's self-taught (she self-taught wrong LMAO) and also she didn't really bother with it until she fled oto. i'm going to let her know some techniques which are TECHNICALLY medical but she learned from orochimaru to do surgery in the name of science. she doesn't like using them in combat because they're..... messy

i think orochimaru is the type to make children fight each other. tori relies a lot of children just being kind of stupid rather than any actual combat skills, but as she gets older this strategy works less well. her taijutsu is therefore....... iffy. for weapons she's most competent with a staff (from the ol' bamboo pole days) but she doesn't like it bc it's very Sound Country(tm) and she doesn't really identify as an Oto-nin. her aim with a kunai is... okay?

With Team 4, I think Kushina really quickly is like "okay, so this team is about making sure tori can hit someone properly (and me teaching this one transport seal to her for the mission)" and tori just doesn't think this is very fair. why aren't you teaching her MORE seals, instead? They only get ~3 months so i don't think she makes insane progress, but she gets better!!

tori's fighting style is very "i will seem harmless until very suddenly I Am Not" so she gets kind of into trying to come up with a technique that gives her a one-hit kill. for this she turns to misapplied medical jutsu and kushina is just like "wow, horrifying, keep it up."

(fuinjutsu is actually pretty tricky to incorporate into active combat, because even if you have pre-made seals, it'll take you a hot second to active them, which is often a hot second too many)

tori's skills are all over the place in a way that seems completely illogical unless you ARE her, and also her measuring stick is Akatsuki, so tori is like "oh yeah, no, i think the average genin could obliterate me?" but the SECOND she realizes that winning her first tournament match means she'll fight itachi, she's like "actually i am going to dedicate my whole month of training to that fight" with the assumption she'll just win against unknown genin #2. whatever, tori knows what a real threat looks like

(also, a WEIRD part of the team 4 dynamic from an outsider's POV is that itachi and deidara don't, like.... disrespect tori? yeah her taijutsu is horrific but also she's INCREDIBLY skilled in a handful of other areas and they're acutely aware of this, but like. they shouldn't be LMAO)

anyway, i want them to run into sasori on a mission, and ORIGINALLY i was going to make this their one c-rank pre-exam. but also i think the exam is the turning point for minakushi to be like "ONE OF US" wrt deidara & tori, and i think "buddies with sasori????" would uuuuh not fly (at least with mianto) until after this turning point. so my new concept for their pre-exam c-rank is they run into chump shinobi and kushina is like "NO TORI HAS TO FIGHT THEM" even though literally any other member of team 4 could win in their sleep. she believes in you, tori!!!

so i think the sasori mission happens post exam? i'm not 100% sure how team 4 functions post-exam. it seems like kind of a waste to have itachi & deidara running c-ranks (esp itachi since he already has a record with konoha), but maybe minato is like "hey buddy..... so upon reflection and reviewing a lot of your files, maybe you should have friends your age??" so then the Point of Team 4 becomes integrating tori & deidara into konoha, and they take progressively more insane missions. the missions get more insane & less frequent as they figure out their own paths. itachi steadily starts getting tapped for ANBU again and tori starts rotating in R&D and gets strong armed into field medic training. i think deidara..... would also go into R&D, because his art is technically jutsu development. this is the funniest thing that's ever happened to tori

tori STILL doesn't like training but she has to log a certain number of hours to maintain her status as an active shinobi and her main sparring partners are like. insane s-rank people. so.............

(tori: I AM GOING TO MAKE FRIENDS WITH NORMAL PEOPLE (makes enemies instead) how)

[sga-owns-my-soul]

I'm dog/housesitting at the moment, and while my aunt's dog is a sweetheart, she doesn't really do much. Long story short, I am bored, so I would love to share my stargate thoughts 😊

My first thought is that I would LOVE a Deaf!Rodney AU!!

He would cuss people out in sign language 100%. He probably talks most of the time, but if he gets frustrated will sign (like Radek with Czech). John sticking closer by him off-world so he can protect him from shit he can't hear (I imagine he would mostly use hearing aids anyway but it makes John feel better). The team learns ASL over time and find that it's actually really helpful on missions to talk in front of people or over distance and maintain radio silence (as long as they can still see each other obvi). John doing the military hand signal thing would be way funnier because Rodney is like "What the fucl are you saying??".

If he does use hearing aids, he would make a dramatic display of taking them out when if he thinks someone it being stupid and would totally be a dick (affectionate) about it. Will also take them out when he's working to focus better. Has music time with Teyla because the vibrations are nice

okay i have been trying to find it bc i SWEAR i read a fic about deaf!rodney before and i can't find it anywhere and i'm gonna scream so if anyone has the link and knows what i'm talking about pls share it 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

i love the idea of someone asking rodney something and he just nods while taking out his hearing aids and walks away and no one can do anything bc whenever john or elizabeth try to tell rodney it's not appropriate and he just nods and takes his hearing aids out and walks away 😭😂😂😂😂😂 fucking iconic honestly

i should write a deaf!rodney fic tbh

[smoozie]

tell me about your life series aa au 🙏

I'm so glad you asked!!

Let's begin with who I think could be a defense attorney

Mumbo

Gem

Scott

Scar

And of course, it's not an AA au if the defense doesn't have their weird girl co-counsel!

Mumbo gets Lizzie! I absolutely adore their dynamic (from what we get to see) and it is very reminiscent of Apollo and Trucy (for me). Lizzie would fake hold herself hostage and Mumbo would cry because he was worried abt her.

Gem gets Impulse! Again I love their dynamic. Gem is probably the one who screams defense attorney to me most, and considering her relationship with Impulse it seems fitting he supports her in court.

Scott gets Jimmy! Flower husband fans will be pleased. To be completely honest, this pair up was more a matter of these two being the last ones in their respective categories, but I think it offers an interesting dynamic. The cool and collected with the more wild co-counsel. Typically the defense is very uncool and never collected. This one is giving Kay and Edgeworth if u squint (a lot).

Scar gets Bdubs! Fun fact, Scar was originally also a co-counsel, but the idea of him and Bdubs on defense together was too good an opportunity to miss. Bdubs 100% is giving weird girl energy. His thing is moss. All the weird girls have a Thing (Maya is spirit channeling, Trucy is magic, Kay is thievery) and Bdubs's Thing is moss. I haven't figured out my other "weird girls" things yet tho. I am open to suggestions.

Now for the prosecution we have

Grian

Etho

Cleo

Joel

Pearl

I think the vibes here aren't as strong as the defense but they still make sense.

Grian might be the weakest on this list. I know he often gives himself the label of detective, but he just didn't seem the type in the AA universe. The reason he's on prosecution is because he is stubborn and impulse enough to accuse the most likely subject and stick with that till the end (ignore the Jangler incident in s6). Also all of Edgeworth's sprites give Grian. Grian fits the Edgeworth sprite gallery to a T

Etho just feels like a prosecutor. He's smart, prepared, calm, and smug. I could see some Blackquill parallels here. He would also bring a bird to court that might attack you.

Cleo is another that just feels right at the prosecutor's desk. She is witty and sarcastic. It would be difficult to persuade them. Cleo also loves a bit of corruption, a past time for most prosecutors.

Joel is abbrassive and head strong. He is SO Franziska Von Karma. He would attack in the middle of court. He would attack the judge. He would call you stupid in the exact mannerisms of Franziska's "fools". Joel is sooo an overconfident prosecutor who is actually so fun and beloved.

Finally, Pearl. She was especially hard to place. I had trouble deciding between defense or prosecutor for her. In the end I settled on prosecution, but I think it would be fun if she had a Godot situation. That is, she was a defense attorney but switched after some traumatic incident (maybe she worked with Scott before!). Pearl can be calculated when she needs to be and crazed when she wants to be. She would provide an interesting opponent. Especially given her connections to most of the defense attorneys.

Now for our detectives:

Bigb

Tango

Ren

Skizz

Bigb somewhat aloof but silly. He let's the defense into crime scenes because they gave him a cookie. He often works with Grian, who likes Bigb too much to scream at him abt anything. Bigb is also prob like Ema Skye with her snackoos.

I could see Tango similarly to Gumshoe. He often works with Pearl and Etho (PET Mail), and he trusts them to prove someone guilty if they really are. He also gets along with the defense attorney's well, so he lets them investigate, as long as they promise not to tell his superiors.

Ren is giving Gumshoe in a much more "pathetic wet cat" way. He is underpaid. He is running around constantly. He is too tired to stop the defense getting in. He often works with Cleo. They have a similar dynamic to Edgeworth and Gumshoe.

And Skizz. He is excited to do his job. He gets along with everyone. He lets the defense in because he trusts that they are doing the right thing. He doesn't think it's fair if they don't get to investigate!

And finally, the judge

Martyn. I can't explain why, it just is Martyn. Somehow it makes the most sense. Martyn.

[blog-name-idk]

Untitled (Arranged Marriage!Yoongi) | Teaser

Pairing: Chaebol/CEO!Yoongi x Fem!Reader, Final!???? x Fem!Reader

Genre: Chaebol(ish)!AU, Arranged Marriage!AU, Yoongi is a big ol' butthead for a while, Humor

Summary: Your husband-to-be, Min Yoongi, is a beautiful, gorgeous, cruel asshole. And his friends are no better.

Word Count: 1.4k

Rating: 18+

AN: This has been sitting in my WIPs for a while, and is also 100% @hamsterclaw's fault for driving me insane with her Vows series. It's nowhere near finished and I don't actually have an estimated date to begin posting, but it IS his birthday so....

A special thanks to @madbutgloriouspond and @nabiolive for beta-ing what's been written so far! Love you both always and forever.

Also I HATE coming up with titles so this has none at the moment.

~~~~~

Your first impression of Min Yoongi is that pictures didn't do him justice. There are certainly worse men you could be marrying to get ahead in life, at least from a physical standpoint. If you had met him under other circumstances, you might have been ecstatic.

Unfortunately, your first meeting is to discuss the terms of your engagement and eventual marriage. So that's hiccup number one in terms of establishing some sort of relationship based on mutual affection and attraction.

Hiccup number two is that he is a massive asshole.

You sit wordlessly across from each other in glacial silence as you wait for him to say something, to look at you, to at least fucking acknowledge your presence. But he hasn't so much as glanced your way since your parents and lawyers left the conference room to "allow the new couple a chance to get to know each other," as if this is their idea of a cute first date.

You use the time to study the man you're expected to marry. He's objectively striking with flowing dark hair and smooth, pale skin that has you vaguely wondering about his skincare routine. He almost looks like a doll, and the deathly silence does nothing to dispel the image. Finally, you can't take it anymore.

"So, do you - "

"I'm going to make a few things clear," he cuts you off, and for the first time today he deigns to look you in the eye. His own are dark and beautiful, and the ice in his gaze is matched only by the cold, almost bored quality of his voice. You shut up, too shocked by his rudeness to do anything but stare back.

"I have no interest or desire to be married to you," he says bluntly, stunning you further. "I am doing this out of necessity. Publicly, we'll have to attend events together, but otherwise don't expect me to hold your hand or act like I'm your boyfriend. I have responsibilities that matter, and I don't need you wasting my time with frivolous activities."

It's like the frost radiating from his body is trying to wrap its icy tendrils around your throat, but the flare of irritation at his complete dismissal of you is enough to melt away its bite. Your mind flashes back to the information your investigator had gathered, because you're not stupid enough to agree to marry someone completely blind.

Min Yoongi, 28 years old, only son and heir to Min Hyunsuk, President of Hansol Group. No arrests or convictions on record - at least nothing that couldn't be paid away, probably. He had been speculated to be in a quiet, long-term relationship with his college sweetheart, Kim Yongsun, and his cruel words only add credence to the theory.

You're not an idiot. You weren't expecting some kind of soap opera romance where you and your fiance hit it off and fall madly in love. You would have been satisfied with someone who at least respected you and the partnership, who you could have sex with without wanting to vomit. Those are more than reasonable expectations for a transactional relationship in which both parties are supposed to be benefitting.

Director's boards always seem to think a married man is more reliable than a bachelor, despite half of the assholes having mistresses on the side. You have a niggling feeling that there's some sort of agreement between Yoongi himself and his father, one that stipulates marriage with someone "suitable." Apparently, Yoongi's ex didn't meet his family's standards.

You might have felt bad for the man if he wasn't acting like such a colossal prick before so much as a single hello. Boo-fucking-hoo, he has to marry you instead of the girl he loves. Well, he's the one who made the choice for himself, not you.

You've honed many skills and talents over the years. One of them is being petty to a fault.

So you put the brightest, sweetest smile possible on your face, and for the first time today he wears an expression other than annoyance or bored indifference. He looks surprised.

"As you wish, dear fiance," you reply, saccharine sugar dripping from your voice like poison. "I will put all of my efforts into not inconveniencing you."

His eyes narrow at your tone, but before he can reply, your parents return. You bid a polite farewell, taking great glee in pressing a chaste kiss on Yoongi's cheeks as he gives you a murderous stare, and leave with your father.

"That went very well," he says as you exit the tall glass building, looking satisfied.

"Yes, Yoongi was very charming," you agree pleasantly, resisting the urge to scream when your father nods. He probably wouldn't care if Yoongi hit you behind closed doors as long as it didn't come to light or jeopardize the family name. Or the company's stock prices.

"I'm glad you've finally come around," your father says proudly as your driver pulls up and opens the door for the two of you to get in. "This is the best way you can help our family."

Yeah, I went to business school overseas so I would be a more favorable marriage option to some rich asshole, you think sourly, adjusting the skirt of your dress beneath you so it wouldn't wrinkle. You fucking idiot.

"Of course, father," you reply docilely, folding your hands in your lap as you turn to stare out the window. It galls to swallow down the words you really want to say, but you've long since learned to save your breath.

Besides, it's easier to maneuver when people underestimate you.

~~~~~

One month and one staged set of proposal pictures later, you're having an ostentatious engagement party so Yoongi can show off his new fiancee. Wait fuck that and fuck him, he's attending as your fiance.

Neither of you are particularly interested in the event, but hell hath no fury like a set of parents who want to show everyone how picture perfect their kids' lives are. And by extension, their own.

You idly wonder if he'll be able to pull off even a modicum of boyfriend behavior, considering he's been just as standoffish every other time you've seen him since that horrible first meeting. He'd once rolled his eyes when you had the audacity to ask how his family was doing, because fuck you for trying to make the best of what's rapidly becoming an incredibly painful situation.

So, because you know it infuriates him, you always greet him with a hug and a kiss he has to reciprocate because others are watching. The veiled fury in his eyes is the only thing that gets you through the meetings.

Plus he has quite kissable lips, which you discovered during the obligatory kiss picture during the proposal shoot. It had actually been quite pleasant to be cradled in his arms, his soft rose petal lips pressed against yours. At least, until you remembered who was holding you.

You're inspecting the finishing touches on your hair and makeup when your phone buzzes.

Yoonyoon I'm here. Hurry up.

God he is such a dick. Giving his phone contact a stupid nickname was the best idea you'd ever had.

You Of course, babe <3

He doesn't respond, of course, and you slip on your heels before leaving your apartment and taking the elevator down. Your eyes fall on the sleek, dark gray car in front of the building and you make your way towards it.

Yoongi is on his phone, and he doesn't even bother to look up when you enter the passenger's seat.

"Took you long enough," he says boredly, as if you hadn't left your unit as soon as you got his message. You take a deep breath and count to ten before pasting a smile on your face.

"Sorry babe, I just wanted to look good for you," you coo obnoxiously, relishing in the way his lips purse together in irritation. He turns to face you, face irate.

"I thought I told you not to - " he shuts up abruptly, eyes widening slightly as he takes you in. His gaze flickers down your body before it settles back to your face, and he looks stunned, like he's never seen you before.

Actually, now that you think about it, this might be the first time he's really looked at you. The night of your engagement party. How hilariously sad.

"Something the matter?" you ask, half expecting him to tell you you look like shit. Your voice seems to snap him back to his senses, and he turns forward again, foot hitting the gas so hard your back thumps into the leather back of your seat.

Asshole.

~~~~~

[rivilu]

You know. Now that I've finished it I can say with some confidence that about 90% of the criticism this game faces that I have seen (not counting the anti-woke crybabies- those will die out in time. as they have with every installment of this series.) is sort of. Not missing the point, but missing the reasoning as to why some choices were made?

Heavy spoilers ahead for everything pretty much.

[And also I mean I'm going to speak as an inquisition hater here so in case this breeches my tiny bubble on this site you can stop reading if you enjoy any tiny aspect of that game at all. I am not kind.]

Yes. This game is not Origins or 2. This Thedas is very wishy washy about the core topics they tackled. Some things are straight up not mentioned at all when they REALLY SHOULD BE. Being an elf has you facing 0 negative interactions in TEVINTER for example. But. A lot of these choices were clearly made as a patchwork. Because of how much inquisition shat the bed. Yeah you can't easily bring back the chantry in a critical way when the last game spent 100+ hours bootlicking it against your will. There is a tiny nod to the mage- templar conflict being one sided and cruel in a side quest? But you can't elaborate and examine mages and how they're treated when the last game had a very clear bias and set them up as unreasonable/ pathetic/ willing to shell out to slavers etc. Similarly with elves how the fuck are you meant to move on from. Anything at all inq set up. Without wiping the board on a few to many places.

I'm looking at you, "the Dalish abandon mage kids above a specific count" NPC.

And the gods themselves. Solas himself. I still consider the most absolute dogshit, stupid, horrible, downright deplorable on a coding aspect writing decision in the series. One that I thought was impossible to create ANYTHING of value around before I got to this game. And. Let me tell you. For once the retconning is the glue that holds this thing together instead of being the thing tearing it apart. - Because it leads the game to feel like an au- in a decently good way. It's not recognizable as the Thedas we know - but it's close enough if you squint, and LEAGUES above the inquisition, which also felt like au fanfiction but in the "religious imperialist 100k essay on why minorities are suckers and the status quo rules actually" sense

Yes. We sort of elaborate on the nature of the blight here and the arch demons being?? Essentially lich phylacteries for these blighted gods. Which directly contradicts established information from awakening of the archdemons not being blighted by default. But I played through that and didn't blink because frankly none of this world feels anything like the one awakening takes place in. And the plot point works for the purpose it serves so really? It's fine. Or something like Bellara being able to do what Merrill spent 7 years attempting in a day or so. It works in a self contained way, but if you're trying to view this as a whole- it creates a dissonance.

An that's the thing. It's not a whole. Trying to view it as such is setting yourself up for failure. The devs said that this would be sort of a blank slate- a reset installment. But it isn't.. quite? Inq was. Inq was the one that decided to change the entire genre from dark to high fantasy, botched the transition, and watered everything down until it was an unrecognizable centrist pile of slop (at best). This is working with the horrible decisions made there- and trying to make something good out of them. It is a VALIANT effort. And I do think they mostly succeed. For what it is- it's good. I don't think it's fair to this game that's been in development hell for 10 years to blame it for not keeping things that its predecessor ruined just because they were handled better in origins or two or whatever. Trust me. Origins is still my favorite and always will be. But if you want origins, give bioware- which is currently half laid off- a break, and start barraging EA with interest for a faithful remaster/remake (i'll gladly join). Or do literally anything other than complaining about this not being that. It helps no one.

[thatdeadaquarius]

With your language AU, I remember watching a video about a guy speaking angrily nonesense in an Indian accent and people thinking he was very angry. Imagine this as the Creator speaks angry gibberish to people and they just assume that the Creator is cursing them or something. (Or like when they speak gibberish to babies and everyone's like, "Aw the Creator is teaching that baby their divine language")

*AUDIENCE DRAMATICALLY GASPS.

✨️I look pretty good for a dead bitch✨️

She's alivveee!!!

Whats up i almost passed away from sheer academic workload, but im not in the ground yet 🥰 And with drafts outta my ass! :D

Hope yall ready for ur regularly scheduled Bullshit Genshin Sagau <3

SANDBEES THATS SUCH A GOOD USERNAME & ALSO SORRY I ANSWERED THIS SO FUCKING LATE JESUSSSSS 💀💀💀

SORRY ABT THE POLL I CANT BELIEVE I COULDNT FIGURE OUT HOW TO DELETE IT IM FUCKING CRYING I WOULD DO THIS-

Well at least i can do polls thru this in the future?? Idk tumblr is ass so we'll see how this accidental test works out...

☆

So these were the first thngs i thought of and its not super long bc ASKERS R GENIUSES OKAY

SOMTIMES I JUST WANNA PROFUSELY THANK U GUYS AS A REPLY FOR SHARING WITH THE CLASS THRU MY BLOG 💖💘💫

Saw the gif and couldnt help but think this is how ppl like Alhaitham or Diluc would react to u "speaking ur langauge"

"Our langauage" aka being a SIM 💀

◇

Stop Albedo would ask you to teach him ur lang/grammar rules 😭

What u gonna do when Zhongli asks you to teach him some words-

OH NO

NO DONT PASS ON YOUR BULLSHIT LMAO

U GIVING ZHONGLI SOME STUPID SIM WORD LIKE

Your ass: "GIGGLABAH means beautiful :) "✨️

Zhongli: "Oh thank you, how different from our own version, so excited sounding..."

You walk by him strolling the harbor and he just smiles at you and says

"You look gigglabah today my liege."

HIS REGAL FACE AND FANCY WALK WITH HIS HAND BEHIND HIS BACK AND EVERYTHING

(honestly ppl paint him as oblivious but he kinda seemed like the type of bastard who seems like he's not aware but sometimes he secretly knows the truth, he's just getting too much amusement out of it to stop doing it, LOL he does shit like the above to see YOUR reaction- LMAO)

◇

You're a maniac pls tell me u dont pass on simlish to all the serious characters-

XIAO WOULD SECRETLY THINK IT SOUNDS GOOFY BUT WANT TO BE INVOLVED BC ITS YOU ANYWAY LMAO

SO HE'S JUST SLIGHTLY SQUIRMING AND GETTIN PINK EVERYTIME HE SAYS A STUPID SIM WORD BC HE FEELS LIKE A GOOF HAHA

(& he's not the only one, others too like Kaveh, YELAN, Ningguang, Nahida, DILUC, AYAKA LMAO-)

◇

Some ppl i could see taking ur gibberish bullshittery and whether they believe its real or not is irrelevant bc theyre using it anyway-

And i dont mean in a good way 😭

LIKE IM THINKING OF VENTI.

CRAZY BARD INCLUDING SIMLISH ASS GIBBERISH WORDS IN HIS SONGS BC OF YOU

"Be cheerful like the hugkukie,

and may your cup never leaky!"

And Diluc loves you.

Really he does, deeper than he thinks-

But his eye is twitching LMAOO

◇

(Ok but if you did like multiple of these language shenanigans thruout the asks ive gotten, Kaeya would literally grow so fond of you and associate you with goofy funny shit that makes him laugh so hard that everytime he sees you he automatically is beaming with a smile, or trying to supress a warm grin- this got away from me but its 1:44am for me rn so i would love a smiley Kaeya rn -)

♡

Speaking language bs I have my 2nd oral exam for spanish tomorrow, pls send whatever good vibes u got and i am also really open to prayers from any religion as well. sobs

Hope anyone got any enjoyment out of my response bc tbh the ask is what rlly matters to me atp lmao

Until the next shenanigan-

Safe travels,

💀♒️

♡the beloveds mwah ♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist

[little-lazuli]

@going-back-to-505-artic-monkeys oooooo okie dokie, imma try and do this question by question and not overwhelm you, thank you for such wonderful questions 🥹🤗

Who and who is together in ur au? I already know abt daphne and Ron, but who else?

Daphne/Ron, Fred/Hermione, maybe an eventual Neville/Pansy

Is he friends with Harry? Is Ron friends with Hermione, or Neville? Maybe a side charecter?

Short answer: his main friends, the silver quartet include himself, Daphne, Theodore and Tracey and is he friends with the others? I guess

Long answer: It’s complicated. There were many factors that occurred to cause Ron’s relationship with the Golden Trio (Harry, Hermione & Neville) to go up and down and up again and back down etc etc.

For a solid breakdown of the relationship status of Ron and the trio as a whole throughout their time in school and eventually growing up started off as acquaintances to friends to enemies to friends to enemies to enemies who are stuck working together to friends to enemies and to allies to mutuals to in-laws to friends/family

And is he close to his family, after the war, after he gets the dark mark? Do they make up?

Oh yes! My work titled “Verdict” was just a glimpse of the repairs both Ronaphne and the rest of the Weasley clan put into making their relationship work again after the war. Also my first 100 headcanons and second 100 headcanons slightly delved into a bit further into the future of of Ron, Daphne and the Weasleys

And how did everyone react to Ron getting sorted in slytherin, were they angry?

Percy was the first to accept it, the twins were miffed at first but accepted that he was sorted there but the two HATED everything Slytherin around Ron which is where most of their anger and fights come about, the twins would say or do something stupid to Ron’s friends (Daphne, Tracey and Theo), Ron would defend them and this would cause them to fight. Ginny was the exact same way. Arthur was slightly disappointed but not so much considering his own mother Cedrella was a Slytherin and so he eventually got over it or so we think whilst Molly’s reaction was the hardest for Ron to internalize:

“Dear Ronald,

I hope all is well and that you are safe throughout your time in school. I apologize for the late response, but I needed some time to recuperate from the news of your sorting. Slytherin. My son, alone in the house of snakes. I will not lie to you and say that I am proud of your sorting. I am not. I am afraid. I am frustrated. I am lost. Are you well there? Are you being bullied? Why did the sorting hat believe you belonged there? What morals did the hat say you have? Did I fail you as a mother? Did me and your father falter in our love for you? I just don’t understand how this is possible, Ronald. Please know that me and your father do still love you with all our hearts, but understand that we are going to talk about this in depth the next time we meet.

Your mother, Molly Weasley”

Is Ron close to Sirius?

No, Sirius after being freed was reluctant to let the Weasleys hide at 12 Grimmauld Place partly because of Ron’s placement into Slytherin, it was here Arthur and Molly would tear into Sirius and lowkey turn to Harry to promise him the Ron was a good boy and not evil, Dumbledore and Harry would be alright but overall Sirius held somewhat a side eye and indifference like opinion of Ron

[blooming-violets]

Sorry this is gonna be a bit of a rant since it’s something I’ve had strong feelings about since joining the AG/TASM fanfic part of the internet, and you’ve provided me a great opportunity to talk about it.

As a trans person, I am BEGGING fanfic writers to stop writing Marauders stuff. I’ve seen so many people defend it with “separate art from the artist” but like it or not they are still supporting JKR. Separating art from the artist only really works when the artist can’t profit from it. She has done SO MUCH harm to trans people and particularly trans youth in the UK and it’s so fucking disheartening and gives me such an ick when I see TASM writers also write for Marauders because it truly comes across as “I love and support the trans community except when it comes to this because I like it.”.

Even if you ignore the transphobia and holocaust denial (YES IM SERIOUS, she’s denied parts of the holocaust at LEAST twice and she literally did it a second time the other day), the original writing is so fucking problematic. Things just off the top of my head being;

The goblins being stereotypes of Jewish people

The fucking racism with characters like Cho Chang and Kingsley Shacklebolt

The last Fantastic Beasts movie’s plot literally being trying to make WW2 and the holocaust happen

This point needs to be taken with a grain of salt since this was some bullshit Joanne said after the books came out, but werewolves in the universe being meant to represent people with aids. Which is so fucking awful considering one of the two werewolves was attacked by the other as a CHILD

The most ironic part of this is that if Andrew is truly the person he presents himself as, he would probably fucking despise being associated with HP, even if it is just a fancast. But yeah all this to say fuck JKR, fuck Marauders fans but also thank you so much Katie for that last anon answer because I genuinely don’t see that enough in this corner of the internet.

Even Daniel Radcliffe, Harry Potter himself, has spoken out against her and continues to loudly support the LGBTQ+ communities. When your own beloved Harry doesn't even want to stand by your side, you should know you fucked up. Sadly, she does not, and instead leans harder into her bigotry and hatred.

I've always been someone who is very loud and opinionated when I see things that I disagree with, which I know can rub some people the wrong way, but fuck it. I don't like to whisper about my issues on the sidelines, I like to confront the problem head on by being very clear about where I stand and how I feel. I'm not gonna sit around and let someone align me with JKR just because I'm writing a stupid werewolf and Peter Parker fic that exactly 5 people are reading lol. It's not even a popular fic like get out of my asks jfc. Esp when I can tell this person has not read a single sentence of my story and is completely basing their judgements on my header image of AG's face next to a wolf gif.

In this past week I have seen both a Steven Harrington werewolf au and a Daredevil werewolf au cross my dash. Do we think they're getting called out for supporting HP?? No. Because their actors weren't "fan casted" as something years ago. Fan casts don't even mean anything! There was never a movie about them. AG was never casted or played this role. It's literally nothing but a bunch of fans agreeing that they like his look for a fictional character.

Anyway, I'm also ranting back at you haha. You can rant to me anytime. I love a good rant and I agree with you 100%.

Werewolves were not created by JKR. Andrew Garfield has nothing to do with Harry Potter. Don't make make snap judgments about a person's character based on a picture you saw. Support your trans community. Don't be dick.

And, if they actually read my werewolf au, they would see that it's literally about learning to overcome your own hatred and biases of people different from you and learning to love those you were taught to hate. Crazy concept, I know! 🙄😉

[yokakaiju]

doro modern(?) au

SPOILER WARNING + LONG POST BELOW CUT

i am so tired while writing this, so apologies if some of it doesnt make sense bleh.. i will happily answer any and all questions to the best of my ability tho!!

okay so ngl... it's really not that different from canon i think? i really don't know much abt my own damn au atm cause i mostly think of it during work and for some reason i literally NEVER write anything down?? idk why???

ALSO TO PREFACE!!! DESPITE HAVING READ DORO IN FULL ABT 4 TIMES NOW AND AM GOING ON A FULL YEAR OF HYPERFIXATION HERE SOON I HAVENT BRUSHED UP ON THE LAST 60-70 CHAPTERS IN A MINUTE SO SORRY IF I MAKE A STUPID MISTAKE!!!

this shit is all 100% subject to change later btw:

• genuinely just abt everything that took place in doro takes place in the past during this au, but not in the same way or with the same characters. ik some stuff 100% wouldnt make sense because of this, BUT BLEHH ILL FIGURE IT OUT LATERR!!! literally jist like.. remove everything involving aikawa and risu and replace it with violent social unrest or smth idk yet...

• ne way, this takes place 100 years after the kaiman holey fight, but in this au it wasnt our kaiman

• the sorcerer and human world have been permanately sealed off from each other since hole fight

• humans at this point dont necessarily believe sorcerers even exist anymore due to this, but the older generations (the few people who live to be like 80-100+) are still somewhat afraid of them and think that some may still be in hole (they are)

• abt hole and this is gonna need a lot of reworking, but like.. idk. basically some humans worship hole as a modern god, taking everything that happrned as absolute truth and churches sprung up around holey, worshiping large statues made of his bones and stuff. the statues do still work as they did in base doro, but they arent as widespread anymore? theyre way more popular with older people and thr newly religous folk, but most people see them as some sort of novelty at this point and they arent widely owned outside of churches and hospitals anymore

• the refuse lake also is back kinda? but its mostly a normal lake now, but the water is still extremely tar like in some parts so its still gated off

• in the socerer world, all information regarding humans and the hole have been banned from being spoken about or learned by the general public. personal doors are also prohibited to be used/learned to be used and anyone who CAN use them that uses them unsanctioned will face capitol punishment or smth. really only the devils and en family know abt hole and shit (theres more people of course, but these are details idk yet)

• n e way, in modern era nikaido and aikawa (sigh we will get to him last...) work together at the hungry bug still

• nikaidos story is literally almost exactly the same. she is still being pseudo hunted by the en family because they got word of a time traveling socerer like howveer long ago and are trying to hunt her down in secret (they dont know its her directly tho)

• kasukabe/haze is still just chillin tho. he is nearly unchanged, still wrote books on socerers (however they were written more historically for a while, then eventually he met haru and they became research/science based) snd took ai as an appretenice, but his work outside of human medicine is thought of as crackpot conspiricy talk or entirely fictional. him and haru are stil married/divorced, haru is also atill a devil and he still has a skin door to the sorcerer world

• ive had some ideas abt shin, mostly that his mom was killed alongside his dad after someone tipped off the  militia that there was somehow still sorcerers in the hole. they investigated their home for a bit and caught her using a door, so they raided the home and slaughted his family in front of him. from there shins story doesnt change much at all rn tbh

• the en family is still highly regarded and very opressive in the socerer world. they dont destroy schools anymore because duh no black powder, but they (with some devil influenece as well) heavily regulate what is taught. resistence against the en family, namely trying to learn about doors and hole, are cruely punished to show they arent fucking around, despite them still having acess to the hole and knowing (somewhat) the true events of what lead to them being separated

• i havent put much thought into the fate of the cross eyes in this au yet, but ive had some ideas? they arent the cross eyes (yet) but, they (our commanders + natsuki and risu) were low ranking memebers who are part of a resistance against the en family that attempts to fight their opression/censorship of history and some higher ups (not the commanders rn) are even trying to figure out how to make a door to the hole or smth

• this is abt all i have rn (im also super tired writing this ugh), so sigh... aikawa time i suppose... this part is gonna be long and confusing and 99% of everything ive talked abt so far was stemed from this, so heres a barely tldr tldr becase im probably making a seperate post when im not so tired. okay TLDR: ai was always disallusioned with being a human becauee his grandpa told him about sorcerers and magic and shit, so he fully bought into hazes entire catalouge of books taking thrm as gospel. eventually he meets haze and works under him, getting close enough to see some of his studies on sorcerer corpses. due to the corpses having smoke/black powder and were killed with hatred for their fellow sorcerers (they were killed by the en family), it starts to slowly affect ais young brain and the seed of a new hole have been planted blah blah, anyway he starts having horrific nightmares from the pov of hole from over a century ago and starts hearing shit cause hes already really mentally unwell. pretyu much from here it goes thr same as base doro for rn. he begs haze to help him become a sorcerer, he has all his plans snd shit tk make it work with the "fresh corpses" (either murders or bodies provided by haru) haze has access to, but haze refuses. ai just gets worse as time goes on, but him being a little emo freak he never actually vocalizes it, but as per cannon he decided to just force hazes hand. one night haze and ai were illegally hunting for potential relics of hole or the events surrounding that around the older parts of the refuse lake whrn ai ended up throwing himself into the tar. however instead of throwing himself in the refuse lake cause he needs a corpse he was compelled by hallucinations or smth to throw himself in. haze saves him and ends up doing the surgery om him blah blah literally its not that different from here, ai still "dies" and is buried he was also made of the 9(?) corpses so hes till got all his heads ans shit. when he rises this time tho instead of going to the sorcerer world he goes to haze again immediatly and begs him not to tell anyone. from here on haze hides him ot smth since he looks so different now no ones gonna recognize him or whatevs

this aint a fuckin tldr whoops. anyway uh.. ill make a seperate post abt aikawa/kai/EVERYONE ELSE IN THERE later cause i fell asleep twice writing that

please ask questions if you have any!! i will work on this more as time goes on i imagine and ill try to start actually writing ny ideas down now

[afniel]

Hi there's really vague (but kinda heavy?) Third Novel stuff under the cut, so don't spoil yourself if you don't want to know anything. Because there's a liiiiittle something something in there plus some art.

Man I'm like. Writing on chapter 2(?) of I Can't Believe It's Not A Trilogy (ICBINAT...world's worst working title) and this story is gonna need such a ridiculously huge content warning for suicidal ideation, way more than the first two, and the second has more than the first, so you know this one has got it bad.

And yet this is just kinda Where X Is At Right Now at the start of it, for Reasons (that I can't say further shit about until Outcome Unpredictable is all online, lol). I have a chapter and a half of, I dunno where or when it fits, just kinda disconnected noodling, and they were hard to write in the kind of way that's warning me that I don't really know what I'm doing with a character, just kinda slapping events together without much emotional weight to any of them or any real direction.

Then I kinda had a few revelations in a row, realized I was trying to lean way too hard on X to Just Be Better Already Dammit, and he was just coming out flat because he's not better already, dammit. Reploid Grandpa is 100% a fucked-up old veteran who's barely out of the hell he came from so yeah, he makes huge strides in his mental health, but he started at the bottom of a really deep hole. That's not a quick climb! It takes real life people decades to escape that hole, and they usually didn't go through it for 80+ years without a break. He's just gonna be down there, even if he's a lot higher than he started. (IRL veteran suicide rates are absolutely dismal too, and yeah, X's mental state very much reflects this at the point that I'm writing.)

Once again all I can actually do is write down the words as they happen and trying too hard to steer it myself only makes it stop working. Am I ever going to stop writing about this old man's mental health struggles? Uhh. Well, I've tried to stop twice, if that tells you anything. I swear he does get a happy ending and keep recovering. Well, maybe not that much physically, because Protagonist Who Stays Disabled And Isn't Magically Fixed is still a primary goal, here, and the story agrees with me on that, but even given that he could stand to be more comfortable even if he's not magically fixed. I dunno why this is where it's going but I think it's just my extreme commitment to What If This Stupid Video Game Plot Was Realistic Though. It's definitely realistic now! Maybe sometimes a little too much, but honestly, that's what makes it work, I think. It would never stick the landing if I stopped short of 100% painful sincerity, even if it's hard to look at sometimes. Feeling a bit like you're being invited to see and feel vulnerabilities that maybe aren't entirely your business when you're reading fiction is the secret sauce, if you ask me.

(At this rate I'm gonna have to update the author's notes at the end of Outcome Unpredictable because I'm making myself a goddamn liar. I straight up say I have no intent of writing a third one, but here I am, evidently doing that before the author's notes even hit the internet.)

I'm not gonna explain shit past that at the moment, so just feel free to conjecture amongst yourselves at the one thing I've kinda drawn in the ICBINAT era. This is about a year and a half from OU and 2 years from FtC, for the record. It is a truth universally acknowledged that if you leave an AU running unattended for long enough, even the canon characters will eventually turn into OCs.

(Also that if my coloring style gets any more rim light I'm going to be in Sonic Adventure style coloring territory...which would fuck severely, actually.)