#now there’s so many enemies to hate and fret about

[acourtofquestions]

🚨MAJOR SPOILERS in the QUOTE BELOW for the THRONE of GLASS SERIES: including, EMPIRE OF STORMS, TOWER OF DAWN, & KINGDOM OF ASH etc.🚨

🚨🚨🚨

"Could Yrene heal them? Erawan and Maeve? I don't know why I didn't think of it."

"Is Erawan's body made by him, or stolen?

"Is Maeve's?" Rowan shook his head. "They might be wholly different."

🚨🚨🚨

[troglodytepixieeater]

The Curse of Blue

Disclaimer: This is a fanfiction from the @bloodlegacies universe. My MC is Bianca Norse. Please go and check out Blood Legacies Interactive fiction.

Warning: Depression, suicide thoughts, loss

Pairing: Hayden Elkar x MC

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I hate the color blue.

That was one of the many thoughts that went through Bianca's head as she stared at herself in the mirror, the servant's nibbled fingers buttoning dark blue linen fabric. The servant took no note of Bianca, although even if they had, they wouldn't see anything other than a stoic expression etched across her face as she stared at herself in the mirror. Back straight. Shoulders back. More like a soilder getting ready for battle than a noble trying on a gown.

I hate the color blue.

Bianca repeated it in her head, trying to think of anything else than the upcoming dance or battle plans that her father has instructed her to go over again and again until her brain was sore. So she focused on a much quieter voice in the back of her head that apparently hated the color blue, and the more that Bianca thought about it, the more that she had to agree with her subconscious.

In theory, blue was a nice color, a color meaning wisdom, which Bianca wondered if her ancestors knew about when they made the flag for the House of Norse. Bianca looked more at her gown; the elegant opal-colored fabric with the pure white embroidery would make any other person swoon. However, Bianca stared at the pendent with the symbol of a snowflake. Who knew one of the most beautiful things in nature could have so much bloodshed behind it?

The killing and the betraying to get to where her family was now. The thought of Bianca's mother crossed her mind, and her mouth became dry. Sacrifice. The sacrifice to get where her family is now was too great. Bianca remembered when they put her mother in the ground that she kept her mind focused on her enemies instead of the sadness that was around or the kind words that other nobles whispered in her ear, a fake look of pity on their faces. That was the time Bianca only let her mask slip, letting everyone see her anger and bitterness to the point that the guests avoided her; however, she had no time for them as her mind was only on the people who destroyed her mother.

She remembered spending countless hours the next week going over maps to try to think about how her enemies thought. Did they just see the blue flags and her family symbol and raid the castle? Or did they scoop it out until blue fabric was waving a certain way to predict if the blizzard was coming so that no forces could help them? There it was again—the color blue.

A so very dark blue that it honestly almost looked black that if you spelled wine or blood, no one would be able to tell which was which just by looks. No, they would have to go by smell. The same very shade that Bianca wore, that was on their flags, that was on any kind of artifact before her house rebellion many moons ago.

Bianca felt a small pinch in her side as her eyes became focused again.

"I am sorry, my lady! Forgive me." The servant's fearful voice sounded beside her. "My finger slipped with the needle."

"Stop fretting." Bianca spoke, her voice monotone. "Just get this done, please." The last part was whispered, and Bianca guessed, with the servant's frantic mind, that he did not hear the young heir speak.

With her eyes now focused again, Bianca looked in the mirror at her grayish blue eyes, which matched her father's. Bianca remembered a time when her little hands would grab her father's face and make him look at her, playing with his beard while giving him a toothy grin. Bianca remembered how her father's eyes fought back amusement as he picked her small body up, feeling weightless in his arms like nothing could hurt her and how her mother's voice rang in the background. Now Bianca had to train herself to look into her commander's eyes, the same matching shade eye-to-eye as swords clashed and sweat spilled. Bianca hated to look into her commander's eyes; she hated the guilt that piled in her stomach, as she was the reason that her father lost everything he loved.

Bianca's movements would always become faster; she wondered if her commander would take the excuse to end her right than that there, let him say it was an accident or that she was being careless. Sometimes she wouldn't wear the padding that her commander told her to wear, sometimes hoping that her commander's sword would cut her open and let the guilt finally stop.

But no, he never put her out of misery; maybe it was to make her live with the guilt forever, a prolonged torture. Or maybe Eleazar didn't want to replace his wife to get another heir if Bianca died, although anyone would probably be better than her.

Bianca still waited though; she would stare into her commander's grayish blue eyes and wait for the wraith to take over, which so many stories wrote about when talking about the Master of Winter for her to put down her weapon and wait for the sweet release of what she deserves.

Staring into her own eyes just reminded her that she was a monster. She could barely stand herself, so how could her commander? It raised questions in her head that she knew would be nightmares later.

Blue was a horrible color, but even then, there was another little voice to pop up.

Not all blue.

It wasn't hard to find the source to find out whatever her subconscious was trying to tell her, as her mind always seemed to linger on him.

Hayden Elkar.

Bianca always kept her distance from the youngest Elkar, according to her commander's orders. In her head, it seemed that Elkar was born to annoy her with smirks and remarks that made her stoic expression crack for a quick eye roll or a dry remark that would send him into a fit of laughter.

Bianca remembered one night when she spoke to him that he said something, and for a rare moment, she smiled. She couldn't even remember what the comment was about—probably about the food or maybe how Bianca was just trying to impress him. She let out a snort, which turned into a small smile. She hadn't smiled since her mother had died, and she fought the urge to run out of the room. Even more so when Hayden looked back at her with a look of understanding in his blue eyes.

But even then, she noted that it wasn't the kind of blue she was used to—the kind of blue that could hide blood stains or that made her shake to look at. No. As silly as it was, his eyes reminded her of Robin's eggs, something she hadn't thought about in a long time. She remembered when she was a kid and her mother would read her a book every night, educational of course, and one night they read about birds. She remembered when her mother showed her the Robin's eggs and the ugly little hatchlings that were starting to crack the shell, which made little Bianca giggle.

Bianca stared at Hayden for a long moment after that. She only hoped, looking back on it, that her stoic expression stayed as his mouth moved. Bianca remembered in bed that night that she pulled out that old book about birds and read the Robin section, her mind wandering to Hayden now and again, which made her pulse race and her stomach roll in a way she had never felt before.

"M-my lady?" The servant's voice broke through again, and this time, instead of the servant near her, he was by the cracked door, holding the knob in his hand as his body shook.

"Prince Hayden is here to see you for some private matter."

Bianca's pulse raced; however, her expression didn't waver from her cold look. "Let him in and come back in an hour."

The servant nodded his head and left the room, going past the figure with sunny blonde hair and tanned skin. As the familiar blue eyes met Bianca's, she fought a twitch in her lips.

Maybe blue wasn't all bad.

[tarisilmarwen]

Rebels Rewatch: "The Honorable Ones"

Kallus starts growing the nigglings of a conscience and also I never want to visit Bahryn ever.

Does this count as Friendship Fetch Quest episode? I mean... we do technically recruit an ally, albeit we make one out of a consistent former enemy, and he is important to things later...

Yeah, you know what, I'm counting it.

Geonosis looks gorgeous.

Oooooof SO many Death Star foreshadowings in this conversation. This is in fact where they started construction on the Mark I, as far back as the Clone Wars. Some time between now and then (Wookiepedia thinks it's between "Breaking Ranks" and now), the project was moved, the orbital stations scrapped, and the entire population of Geonosis genocided to conceal the project's existence.

Just, you know, your ordinary Tuesday for the Empire.

Hi Kallus!

Love Chopper getting to be an absolutely murderous psychopath again lolol.

Ohhhh hey, this cue is from back in "Droids In Distress" when they were about to blow up the ion disruptors. How fitting, lol.

Ezra is still Not Fond of leaving people behind.

He looks so worried. :(

Love how Kallus and Zeb stop fighting for a second when they realize they're about to crash. Matching Oh Crap expressions and everything.

Ngl, I felt that cry of agony deep in the recesses of my childhood.

(I fell off some parallel bars once in gym, didn't break anything, but my first scream? Sounded not too unlike that.)

Lol Ezra banging on Chopper. "Yes, we want him back! Don't be a sleemo!"

Jeez, how terrified Kallus must have been, stuck in the exact scenario that traumatized him so in the past. Lucky for our favorite asshole Zeb is the honorable type.

Yup, yeah, pissing his pants terrified. David does a really good job with Kallus this episode, it's one of the first times they let him show a bit more range and he does shrill and hysterical very nicely, if I may say so.

Kallus is so assured of the Empire's fairness and nobility, aww let's shatter that to pieces this episode. :D

Worried Ezra continues to be worried. <3

He is already shivering, nice little animation here. Also lol @ Zeb pettily pulling the heater closer towards him.

Ahhh the glowing rock of friendship. Love that Kallus keeps it after this.

"You're going to hurt yourself!" <3 See this mother hen behavior right here is why I stuck the Iron Squadron kids with him in my Mirrorverse series, Kallus being a fussy fretful Team Mom is hilarious.

Ah NOPE, nope, nah-uh. Nooooooo thank you.

The bonzami are actually really well-designed. They look like prehistoric dinosaurs of some kind. Definitely evocative of all my childhood nightmares about T-Rexes.

Kallus parroting the Might Makes Right and Social Darwinism of the Empire, leading to Zeb beginning to ask pointed questions.

Oh man there was a really good analysis on here someone did about Kallus's fighting style, how he's better at close quarters than distance/ranged, I wish I remembered who wrote it.

Subtle animation appreciation detail: That pinched guilt in Kallus's expression.

Oooh yeah, that's the good stuff.

Kallus launches into his tragic backstory, possibly to try and remind himself why he personally hates Lasats, rejustify in his head how it was okay for him not to question orders when told to use the ion disruptors--("They deserve it, they're bad people, they kill the injured!")--and the connection to Saw is not a coincidence I think, the writers expand heavily on the whole "It's how we fight that matters." and "The ends justify the means." conflict later on down the line. Numerous characters on this show like Saw and Thrawn and Kallus to an extent represent what happens when you go too far to fight those you consider monsters. I've always loved how firmly Rebels comes down on the side of "The means do matter."

Probably one of the reasons I'm still kind of relucant to watch Andor, I know fandom loves that "I burn myself for a sunrise I'll never see." quote but eehhhhhhhhh.

The exchange right after Kallus's story is a bit clunky, I get what the intent was--that there are people in the Empire who aren't cold and bloodthirsty and evil and the Rebels shouldn't write them all off like they're the same--but it's clumsily executed.

PPFFFFTTTTTT LOLOLOL. KALLUS CANNOT BELIEVE THE SHEER PETTINESS IN ZEB HURLING THE BO-RIFLE OUT OF THE CAVE RATHER THAN LET HIM HOLD IT.

Hey remember when I said I love David Oyelowo's hysterical Kallus voice? Yeah.

Zeb's prehensile feet put to good use again.

Ohhhhh yeah no that's absolutely a terrifying concept for me. Nope.

"Hey we didn't get eaten! Are we friends now?"

There's some debate in the fandom about the inconsistency of the stories Kallus tells from "Droids In Distress" to here. Some parts of fandom point to how he almost gleefully bragged about giving the order to use the ion disruptors and others point out that he couldn't possibly have been high enough in the ranks at that point to actually have the authority to do that.

I tend to fall more towards the latter camp, that he wasn't actually THE one to give the order but he didn't question it and passed it right along due to his prejudice against the Lasat, and only said what he said to Zeb to rile him up. As much as he hated Lasats though, there has been some guilt severely weighing on him since then, and I'm pretty sure it's partly due to his confusion over the Honor Guardsman giving him his bo-rifle. There was a note of aggravated self-defense in Kallus's voice when he explains to Zeb how it was given to him, like he's dispensing with an act and being all, "All right look here's how it really happened."

This conversation is slightly less clear but to me reads like Kallus is detailing his thoughts from the moment he'd been given the order. Like it's mid-battle and it's going harder than they anticipated and the weapons are handed out and he's told to use them and he realizes, "Oh. The Empire is not playing around are they?" and he shoves down his own potential qualms about it and just passes on the order.

Zeb, having had his character development, is dismissive of Kallus's attempt to explain the massacre, saying that it doesn't affect him anymore, basically.

They're so happy to see him. <3

Awwwwwww.

Subtle animation appreciation moment: Zeb's little elbow bump to Ezra's arm as they climb up the ramp.

Ohhhhhh man the behind the scenes had a little plot bit that they should have kept, basically it was not the Empire that retrieved Kallus from Bahryn, it was a scavenger ship, the Empire spent a paltry two rotations looking for him and then wrote him off, he had to make his way back to them on his own.

Konstantine doesn't even look at him.

:((((((

Kallus's redemption is a bit of a polarizing topic in fandom. Personally I'm very fond of it, I like Kallus as an antagonist-turned-Rebel, I think he's a lot of fun post Heel Face Turn and the many myriad fanfics that bridge the gap between "Zero Hour" and Season 4 featuring Kallus slowly blending in to the Spectres are among some of my favorites.

But it's also one of my major nitpicks because it's a bit lacking in legwork. Show👏me👏the legwork!👏 Like 90% of all writing problems can be solved just by expending some effort. Don't just have Kallus as the new Fulcrum offscreen between seasons I need to SEE it.

That being said, this is a mostly tightly written Locked In A Room type episode, well-paced, decently animated. Fandom definitely loves it and I'll still give it fairly regular rewatches since it's another of the husband's favorites.

Next up, we return again to Lothal for Force Weirdness.

[fierce-in-the-forest]

Fret

Inspired by ‘Revolution’ by Unsecret

The room was cloaked in pitch black darkness as Y’shtola sat up, tangled in her bedding. The darkness didn’t matter though, for the witch, as the children liked to refer to her, saw in different ways. And oh Hydaelyn, what she had just seen….

She snapped her fingers to light the candle beside her bed as she rapidly redressed, the light not needed but rather a habit from when she was young. Images flooded in behind her eyes, the vision a skill she had long ago learned to contain but not necessarily control.

The girl she saw was a viera. Tall, but with short ears. One was chopped nearly in half but still hung. The girls hair was fire, and tumbled freely down her back as she stood atop a rock in the woods.

“The earth hungers for blood! One moment in time, to carve our names in fire!” The girl hoisted a sword to the sky. “This is a revolution!” she screamed.

“We’re rising up!” someone in the crowd hollered back.

Reidun. Her name was Reidun. And she did not belong there, in that place. Everything about the moment was wrong, bur yet, it would happen. And SOON.

Y’shtola plunged out the door, visualized where she wanted to be, and disappeared. She rematerialized outside the door where Alannah and Hien slept, knocking even before all her bits and pieces were back together. When there was no immediate answer, she let herself right in and yanked the blanket off their sleeping forms. “Dear lord in Hydaelyn, must you both sleep like the dead?”

Hien groaned as he rolled over and shook Alannah awake. “Lanne,” he slurred groggily, “Lanne, the witch is here.”

Ah, so he called her that too. She found she didn’t hate the title, truthfully. It was fine if they feared her, just a little.

Alannah peered at Y’shtola through the haze of sleep. “Y’shtola? What has happened?”

Instead of an answer, Y’shtola offered her hand and The Echo.

“The earth hungers for blood!” Reidun screamed again. “There’s a riot in us! Fate thickens the air, our time is near!”

Celestralia Wood, Alannah’s home, was ablaze.

The sword glistened in the light of the flame. It was a familiar sword, the engravings on the hilt were—

Alannah pulled back. “That is Hien’s sword. In. Celestralia Wood?”

Of the three of them, only Y’shtola knew how the sword would come to be there. How one day, many years from then, Hien would fall. The sword would be passed to his daughter, Saoirse, who would pass it to her twin brother, Char, who she felt more suited to carry it. And Char would pass it to his daughter, Reidun. But none of these things would come to pass for many, many years. Yet, somehow, it was happening now. Reidun was here. Y’shtola could not begin to explain the wrongness of it all.

Out loud, Y’shtola said, “The timeline is damaged. Something has gone very wrong.”

Alannah snatched Y’shtola’s hand again.

There was something else, something else about the girl on the rock. Her deep red hair cascaded against a cloak that sparkled by the light of the flame. The cloak was every color imaginable, depending on which way you approached. The girl, Reidun, wore a countenance inscribed with the deepest pain as she screamed, thrusting the sword to sky once more.

Alannah knew that cloak. “The time mage?”

Y’shtola nodded grimly. “Somehow, yes.”

Hien pulled on a shirt that had been discarded the night before on the floor beside the bed. “Pray explain?”

“We once made….an enemy.” That in itself was nothing new; it happened all the time by the very nature of who they were. Alannah donned her bow as she continued, “A very powerful enemy.”

“Who will stop at nothing to get back at you,” Y’shtola added, offering Alannah the cloak from the back of the door. “The tribe is in immediate danger. We must go to them, now.”

“Can we stop this?” Alannah reached for Hien’s hand, even as she knew he could not see what she saw.

“We must try.” To Hien, Y’shtola said, “You must remain behind. Be ready.” For if they failed, the witch knew that Doma would be next on the list of conquests.

Hien nodded, uncharacteristically solemn as he closed a hand around the hilt of the same sword the women had seen in the vision. To his wife, Hien said, “I love you.”

Hien and Alannah kissed until the moment of transfer, when Y’shtola pulled Alannah along the livestream to enter Celestralia Wood. The women were too late. The world was on fire. And before them, as they fully materialized, was Reidun.

“Grandmother.” The girl nodded, and then with zero hesitation, swung her sword in a cutting arc at Alannah’s neck as all around them the trees sang in flame.

[lilacmoon83]

Operation Castle

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 14: Betrayal

Snow carried her son into the kitchen at arms length and sat him on the counter, while she got a wet washcloth.

"You're a mess, baby," she said, fondly cleaning him off the remnants of his dinner. Regina came in behind her and though there was an awkward silence between them, she had a fond look for the baby.

"He was a big fan of your lasagna," Snow said and she managed a smile at that.

"I can see that…he reminds me of Henry at that age," Regina offered, as there was another awkward pause, but Bobby gave them a topic of conversation, as the washcloth floated from the sink. Snow sighed and caught it, before putting it back in the sink and picking him up.

"I don't know what we're going to do if they see him do this and find out he has magic," she said, the fear and stress clear in her voice. And in the past, that fear and stress that she was burdened with would have thrilled Regina. But now she found that it didn't. In fact, it was getting harder and harder to hate them. Henry really had changed her; alarmingly so. The Evil Queen would have relished her enemy's pain and took delight in rubbing it in her face. Moreso, she would have eagerly told their NSA handlers about the child's magic and reveled in them ripping the baby from Snow's arms. But now, being a mother herself, she didn't wish the loss of a child on even her worst enemy. Henry would be proud, if he could ever believe in her again.

"They won't," Regina offered and her step-daughter looked at her skeptically.

"I can only hope…but he's too little. He has no idea what he's doing," she fretted.

"Maybe not…and he is very young, but if you allow it, I may be able to work with him a bit," Regina said.

"Really?" she asked, with hope in her voice. She nodded.

"You'd do that?" Snow asked again.

"Of course…I mean, after all, he's sort of my…my grandchild, isn't he?" she asked uncomfortably. Snow smiled.

"He is…" she replied.

"But…isn't he too young to teach?" Snow wondered.

"In many ways, yes…but if I can start teaching him control this early, we may be able to teach him it's not appropriate around certain people. It's a long shot…but if we realize his potential earlier enough, he may help us eventually get out of this situation," she explained.

"Emma has a lot to unlearn to realize her full potential with magic. She's spent a lifetime being told it's not real. Bobby doesn't have those restraints. Your son could potentially be the most powerful light magic user in existence someday," she added.

"And you do this for us?" Snow asked.

"For now, I will do it for Henry and the baby," she replied.

"But…with everything that's happened, I can see clearly now that you and your husband are not my enemies," she added.

"For what it's worth…I am sorry about Daniel. I never thought something bad would happen," Snow said.

"I…I didn't understand what would happen…that…that…" Snow stammered.

"That my mother would kill him?" she asked. Snow closed her mouth and nodded. Regina signed.

"I know…you were a child, but we can't go back," she said.

"Can we move forward?" Snow asked. Regina paused for a moment.

"We can try…for real this time," Regina replied, bringing a small smile to the raven haired beauty's face.

"Thank you Regina," she said, as she lifted her son up and left the kitchen to change him, leaving Regina with her thoughts for the moment.

~*~

"Still thinking about that spar, mate?" Killian asked, as they sipped at coffee following dinner. David shook his head.

"It's just…I'm a decent swordsman, but King Arthur, regardless of his natural talent, should be unstoppable with Excalibur," the prince said.

"It was pretty cool that you beat King Arthur though, Gramps," Henry mentioned.

"The lad is right…you're selling yourself short, mate. You're more than decent and that comes from a pirate that's seen a lot of sword fights," Killian replied.

"Thanks for the compliment…but even if my skills are exceptional, that was still supposedly Excalibur in his hand," David said.

"You think it's a fake?" the former pirate asked. He shrugged.

"I don't know…but I certainly would like your input. Surely you have an opinion on the matter," David said, as he looked toward the Dark One, who had been mostly silent.

"Rumple?" Belle asked.

"What you lack in tact…you certainly make up for with your observation during battle," Gold said.

"The pirate is correct…you are an exceptional swordsman, especially considering your relatively young years compared to us," he added.

"Even if King Arthur has no skills of his own…he should easily mop the floor with most opponents with Excalibur in his hand," he concluded.

"Then you think it is a fake," David stated.

"Perhaps…though I'm not sure I would risk touching it unless I was positive it's a fake," Rumple said.

"Is there an easy way to tell by looking at it?" Belle wondered.

"No…not without close examination. If it's a fake…it's a good one," Rumple said.

"It doesn't make any sense…why would King Arthur leave his Kingdom to come through a portal to this world?" Neal wondered.

"That's the big question…he has to be after something," David said.

"The tree…he was pretty intent on burning it," Emma mentioned.

"Any guesses?" Neal asked, looking at his father.

"I may have one," Belle interjected, as eyes went to her.

"There are many different versions of the stories about King Arthur, Camelot, and the Knights of the Roundtable. There are a few versions where Merlin is sealed away in a tree," she mentioned.

"Wasn't Merlin an ally to King Arthur though?" Neal asked. She nodded.

"In most versions…but the Arthur we met seemed less than noble. It's not out of the realm of possibility that he may have fallen out of favor," Belle replied.

"And you think he could have maybe sealed Merlin away or had him sealed away?" Killian asked. She shrugged.

"There's no way to be certain without learning his story…but from what we've seen, we know that many of the real stories have unexpected twists and aren't at all what most people think," she reasoned.

"But why?" David wondered.

"That's an easy one…power," Rumple stated.

"If Arthur could no longer wield the real Excalibur and fashioned a fake…then he would do anything to keep those he couldn't trust quiet. If he's exposed…he loses his Throne," Rumple surmised.

"So how do we get King LARP to come clean?" Emma asked. Rumple smirked.

"We could make a deal…but what he wants most likely is to burn that tree that might have a wizard inside it," he replied.

"A wizard that could help us out of this mess," Emma said.

"I bet Merlin could tell us everything," Killian replied.

"Yeah…but how do we get said wizard out of a tree?" Neal asked, as he looked at his father again.

"It's tough to tell what would trigger his release without knowing who put him there and what kind of spell we're dealing with," he said, as Emma's phone rang and she answered it.

"I thought they blocked our cell access when we came into the compound?" Neal asked.

"They…they did," Emma replied in confusion, as she answered it.

"Hello?" she asked.

"I know what you need to release Merlin and I can give it to you," the voice said.

"Who the hell is this?" Emma asked.

"It's me Emma…it's August," he replied. She rolled her eyes.

"And what do you want in return?" she asked.

"It's not about what I really want…it's what my employer wants. Can we meet?" he asked.

"Your employer?" she asked.

"It's a long story…but let's just say I would be rotting in Rikers Island if not for them," August explained.

"What the hell did you do to get sent to Rikers?" she asked.

"Nevermind that for now…can we meet?" August asked.

"If you haven't noticed…our freedoms have been revoked too," Emma replied.

"Tell the NSA that I have all the answers they want and the key to stopping the magical fissures in this world," August said.

"You're Pinocchio…how the hell are we supposed to believe anything you say?" Emma asked. She could almost hear him smiling.

"Fair point…but I can give them the rogue agent that's working against them. They'll be curious enough to arrange a meeting for tomorrow. We'll be waiting outside that facility at 10am tomorrow morning. Their curiosity will override their cautiousness," August said.

"Fine…but if you double cross us, I'll make sure you wish you were back in Riker's," Emma warned, as the line went dead.

"What is that puppet up to now?" Gold wondered.

"He says he has all the answers we need," Emma replied.

"Yeah…but what is the cost? August never does anything if there isn't something in it for him," Neal said. David sighed.

"He's so different from the little boy we knew long ago…I guess that's what this world does to you," David mentioned. He had deep regrets about what Emma had experienced growing up in this world without them…even if she no longer blamed them.

"If there's even a chance he's telling the truth…and that's a big if, then we need to hear him out," David suggested.

"Do you think we can sell it to our captors?" Emma asked.

"Yes…because we won't take no for an answer," he replied, as they dispersed for the evening, after filling Regina and Snow in on what was going on.

~*~

Snow and David returned to their apartment and put Bobby down for the night in his crib, before retiring to their bedroom. Snow wasted no time in making her affections known and kissed him deeply. They stumbled toward their bed, as she undid the buttons on his shirt and their kisses became feverish. Clothes became discarded puddles on the floor, as they found the bed and engaged in a passionate bout of lovemaking. After, Snow lay contently atop his chest and his hand rested firmly on the small of her back, spooning her against him. They exchanged soft kisses and their usual insatiable hunger for each other seemed to be in overdrive that night, especially for Snow, as she climbed atop him and proceeded to make love to him again in many ways, leaving him breathless, until he reversed their positions and returned the favor in full. Finally, when they were both sated and entangled beneath the bedclothes, they spoke softly to each other.

"Guess we had more pent up energy between us than usual," he mentioned. She smiled.

"Mmm…and for us, that's saying something. But that was only part of it," she confessed.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Well…I always get a little hot and bothered when I get to watch you in a battle, but watching you mop the floor with King Arthur was a huge turn on," she confessed again. He smirked.

"Even if it is probably because his Excalibur is fake?" he asked. She smiled.

"Oh, I don't care…he's still King Arthur and your skills are obviously superior to his. Even if he had the real Excalibur in his hand, it's easy to tell that you're the superior swordsman," she replied.

"Maybe…but he's still King Arthur. The legend precedes him," he said.

"I'd say he did a pretty poor job of living up to the legend," she replied, as she kissed him tenderly.

"Besides…you're Charming and that's so much better," she cooed, as their lips met again and they gave into their amorous desires once more.

~*~

The next morning, in the new Castle, things were tense, to say the least.

"It's too risky," Alivia argued.

"How does this August supposedly even have his memories? I thought that was impossible without our intervention," she said, as she looked at the General.

"We don't know…but if August is going to tell anyone, it's me and I know when he's lying," Emma said.

"He says he knows what is special about the tree. It's a risk we need to take," David added.

"We at the NSA don't take orders from civilians, especially one that has a rather sordid history of lying and allowing his employer in without knowing their identity is an unknown factor that we are not comfortable with," Shaw said.

"The way to stop the magical bleed over in this world might be in that tree. I think it's a risk you want to take," Rumble advised.

"Why should we believe you?" Alivia asked.

"Because if there's something in that tree that can stop this…then it's more powerful than you and you wouldn't want something like that released unless there' no other options," Casey answered.

"You should listen to the Major," Rumple responded, to which Alivia rolled her eyes.

"We will meet them, but you will all follow my lead and orders," Shaw said.

"I'm taking point on this too and I won't take no for an answer," David replied, as he and Shaw stared at each other. Finally, the General relented with a smirk.

"Far be it for me to deny the man that defeated King Arthur in a duel," he responded, as his phone chimed.

"It appears that the puppet is here," he said, as the gates to the compound opened. Shaw wasn't sure exactly what he was walking into here and he didn't like it. He was explicitly clear with that damn puppet that if he made contact with anyone from his land that he would no longer receive the cure, yet he had done it anyway.

August was selfish though, which intrigued the General as to why he was risking it. If August exposed him to the others, he would feed him into the woodchipper himself.

"Well…come on, what are you waiting for, dahling?" Cruella asked.

"You realize by crossing General Shaw that I'm basically condemning myself to turn back to wood, right?" August asked.

"Oh pfff…I told you, I'm about to be in control of everything and I'll make sure you get your little elixir so you can stay human," she promised, as she

"This is the NSA…I still don't see how you plan to do that," August said.

"Oh…I have my ways," Cruella drawled, as they entered the compound in her sedan, which was followed by a truck being driven by Horace and Jasper.

"How dreary…better than those blasted woods I suppose, but dreadful. I do like when my enemies suffer though," she mushed. He rolled his eyes.

"What enemies?" Snow White and the Prince never did anything to you," he said.

"No…they were always perfectly good and well, Charming…especially that Prince. Now there is someone that really gets me going. What he sees in that vapid little upstart of a Princess, I'll never know," she complained, as she licked her lips.

"Speaking of…" she purred, as she spotted them ahead. She parked and August got out first.

"Mr. Booth…I assume," the General said in a measured tone. August smirked. They had no idea that the NSA had him locked up all these years. This would be fun.

"General Shaw…long time no see," he said. Emma blanched.

"You know him?" she asked.

"Oh yes…but that's a tale for another time," he said, as a woman exited the driver's side of the vehicle.

"Oh hell…" they heard Rumple mutter.

"You've got to be kidding me," David said.

"So lovely to see you too, dahling…" Cruella replied, as her eyes raked over him.

"How the hell are you even here?" Snow asked.

"Wait…you guys know her?" Emma asked.

"Ems…take stock. Fur coat and two toned hair," Neal replied, as Emma's mouth dropped open.

"Cruella fucking De Vil is real?" she uttered.

"Will you watch your mouth in front of our son?" Regina chided.

"Oh she's real…and just as psychotic as the stories say. They got this one right," David said.

"Grr…I do love when you get angry, Chisel chin," she purred.

"How do you have memories? Everyone from there doesn't, unless we awaken them," Alivia said. Cruella laughed.

"Oh no, I escaped that dreadful forest long before the curse," she said.

"How?" David demanded to know.

"I'd be happy to tell you in private over drinks…and pleasantries, dahling," she purred, while pouting her lips.

"Hard pass," he retorted.

"State your business," the General demanded.

"I have what you want, General…and I'm more than willing to make a deal," Cruella purred.

"And what is that?" Shaw asked, as she fished something out of her handbag.

"A pen?" Emma asked, unimpressed.

"Oh no…not just a pen, blondie…a very special pen," she said.

"The author's pen," August clarified.

"You mean…author like the one who wrote the book?" Snow asked.

"That's exactly what he means and he's double-crossing us again," Rumple growled.

"August…" she started to say.

"I'm sorry Emma…but this is the only way for me to stay human," August said. She wanted more explanation on that, but he wasn't offering.

"Maybe if you'd do the right thing for once…that wouldn't be the case!" David growled and August looked away, not able to meet the Prince's gaze. In many ways, he was still a little boy looking up at the valiant Prince Charming in awe.

"I'm too far gone…one right won't erase what I've done and in this world, you learn very quickly that it's survival of the fittest," August replied.

"No…you're just a coward that picks the easy path," Neal retorted and August said nothing, as Cruella interjected.

"If you want this pen…then I need something from you too," she said.

"Like what?" the General asked.

"Simple…my bastard husband is being indicted for fraud and money laundering by the FBI. They're trying to tie me to all his dealings as well. You can have him, but make them cease their pursuit of me, so I can take control of his fortune," she replied.

"His assets and money have been seized as evidence," he said.

"You want the pen…then you'll give me the mansion and a very sizable settlement. I also have that name for you. Check your phone," Cruella replied.

"Done," the General agreed.

"Don't make a deal with her…she's literally the devil," David protested.

"Oh you have no idea, dahling…but you could," Cruella purred, as she licked her lips. They were about to make the hand off when David stepped between them and drew his sword.

"Don't get stupid, Your Highness," Shaw snapped, as several agents drew their guns. Snow gasped.

"Charming…" she uttered in fear. Bobby whimpered, as he seemed to understand the danger to his father.

"You're not bulletproof, Charming…stand down," Casey warned. He had a hard time showing emotions, but he respected the Prince greatly for his courage and prowess as a warrior. Suddenly…the General and his agents felt rumbling beneath them and there was shock and awe, as the pavement just around them started to spider crack. Regina saw the baby's hand glowing and quickly stepped in front of Snow. Emma saw it too and thinking quickly, she outstretched her hands, like she was the one doing it.

"How…how are you doing this? We have magic dampening devices all over the compound," Alivia said.

"Guess they don't work on true love's magic…now put those guns you have trained on my father away or I'll make sure the Earth swallows you all," Emma replied. It was a huge bluff, but the General signaled for them to put their weapons away.

"You don't hold all the cards here, Miss Swan. I'm taking possession of that pen and the rest of you will return to your quarters, unless you'd rather it be the detention block," Shaw warned. David gently put his hand on Emma's arm.

"It's okay…we'll find another way, but we can't do that if we are separated in the detention block," he whispered. She lowered her hands and thankfully, the shaking stopped. She looked back only to see that her mother was rubbing soothing circles on the toddler's back. She turned back and glared at August.

"You better disappear or if I find you when I get out of here…it won't be pretty," she warned. August gulped and got back into the car with Cruella.

"This is wrong…" August lamented.

"Relax dahling…we both got what we wanted. Now you're free," she said, as she handed him a wad of cash. It was enough money to set him up for good if he was frugal, but it didn't make him happy. He had no one to share it with and likely never would since he just betrayed anyone that might actually care about him.

"Great…" he muttered, as she started driving.

"Where can I drop you off?" Cruella asked.

"The airport," he answered.

"Ah…doing a little traveling?" she asked.

"Let's just say that I'd rather not be around if Emma does get out of this mess I left her in," August replied.

[casspurrjoybell-22]

Master - Chapter 53 - Part 2

*Warning Adult Content*

"Lincoln, we're ready."

With a nod, I wrap my hand around the familiar steel that sat like lead between my fingers as I rise to my feet.

It'd been a long time since I'd taken my sword in hand and yet it still felt like an extension of me that had never been put to rest, as did the battle armour on my frame. 

They were all pieces of another time of the only time vampires had all fought as one.

Almost four millenniums ago, yet when I looked at the sleek double-edged sword, I could still see that battle so plainly.

A sky turned blood red by dark magic, falling with the daggers that would slice so many of us down before we'd even begun.

Hundreds fell and thousands more died but no matter how much it ached, we had no choice but to carry on, even against magic at that scale.

It was impossible to face, an assured death sentence but so was the alternative.

So we'd fought and at the end of it, they'd fallen to us.

The few was remained watched on while I took my place before them as executioner.

On their knees, bound as we'd been, they'd cursed us all, not realizing that they couldn't condemn their own creations.

I'd pressed the more favourable blade of my sword against the vulnerable skin, memorizing their hateful gazes before I sliced a single path across all their throats.

I could never forget the sight of their eyes rolling, their bodies going limp while their blood sept into the foundations of what would eventually become my home.

It had taken time, too many losses but in the end, they died.

The same would be made true today because my enemies always died.

When I lift my gaze to Malcolm, who stood within the entry of my makeshift tent, I study the worry in his grey eyes that was the only soft thing about him.

Malcolm had never worn armour.

Its inability to morph with him rendered his shifting but today he wore a black material like nothing I'd ever seen before.

Made from some foreign scale, it stuck to him like a second skin, pulsing as if it were alive but that was undoubtedly the Elf's ever-present magic.

"Do not tell me you worry for me," I grind out as I step forward.

"I don't want to hear it now."

We were as close as we'd ever been to Diablos, with all our forces gathered and ready to fight.

I'd waited as they'd insisted I do until they were all here but I would not wait any longer. 

Kalem couldn't wait any longer.

"I've..." Malcolm struggles for words, his voice cracking slightly as his torment turns visible.

"I've seen something."

I stop, my body stiffening as I prepare for the worst, for a revelation that would try to snuff out what little light I had left.

"Does he live?" It's poisoned agony to speak the words from my tongue but I force them out anyway.

A single nod.

"Yes, but you..."

"It doesn't matter." 

"Lincoln," Malcolm argues, the pain in his voice saying more than I wanted to hear.

"It does not matter," I bellow, silencing him before he could share any more.

"If Kalem lives through this, then... it does not matter."

The pained, fretted look behind Malcolm's eyes said that it did, that nothing else mattered but he kept quiet for me.

We both knew that regardless of what the outcome might be, I'd put Kalem before anything or anyone.

Closing the space between us, I rest a steadying hand on his shoulder.

"Do you stand with me?"

"Always," he confirms without hesitation.

Letting his hand fall on top of mine, he grips it painfully, almost desperately.

"To the end."

I allow myself just that moment, that single moment, to accept what came next.

If this was to be my end, then I was ready.

As we emerge from the covering, my eyes take a moment to adjust to the unfamiliar terrain of parched grounds and infrequent clifftops that made up the majority of these desert lands, as well as the gathered battle-ready warriors that made up my clan.

From the deepest corners of the earth, every member of our allied clans all stood before me.

I'd called and they'd answered, all of them.

My connection to each of them was nearly blinding, to the point that it made my nerves thrum.

I could feel them all through the Lyrra, their will to fight and see my command through, the one that still seared them through like a brand.

"Kill them all."

Cutting through their lined formation, I take note of our numbers, from the now transformed members of the Anouk clan to the towering members of the Amaris Clan, surfaced from their iced fortress for the first time in history.

Pride tried to swell within but it withers within moments when I reach the front of our brigade and pass my gaze over Diablos' force.

We'd known beforehand that we would be vastly outnumbered but seeing it in person was something else entirely.

They more than doubled our numbers.

They almost tripled them now.

From our height leverage, the entire of Diablos' camp could be seen, unconcealed by magic as we'd assumed it would be.

There was a barrier there that stomped all our initial attempts to enter but didn't hinder our vision.

He wanted us to see it all, to look upon their numbers and know that they eclipsed ours. 

Like ants pouring from a nest, bodies stood below, readied as we were in battle lines with three at the forefront that could be no other but Diablos and his allies.

I could feel his gaze burning through me as I was sure he could feel mine, closer now than we'd been since the beginning.

My body vibrated, anxious and desperate to release the barely contained rage that had all but consumed me since I learned that my love had been taken away from me.

But I keep it locked within, knowing it'd be better released when the time came.

Still, the temptation was there as I focused my gaze on Diablos.

There'd be no greater gift on this world than seeing the light drain from his eyes.

Before I could act on such impulses, power surges from the ground below in a brief warning before Arias and Wenquie appear with cross features that said it all.

They couldn't find him.

"I felt him, felt his power stronger than ever before but it hard to say whether or not he is still there," Arias reports quickly, his golden eyes burning with hatred.

"The barrier around them taints the air, it blurs the message."

"But you break through it?" I ask, which causes the Elf's lip to curl upwards.

"Of course, I can. But if Kalem is there, then the moment I breakthrough we put him at risk. You'll need to attack at the same moment to force their entire brigade directly at you."

That was enough for me.

If Kalem were there, then we'd save him and kill them all and if he weren't, then we'd kill them all anyway.

"The moment you find him, you take him to the castle and keep him safe," I bite out, which he curtly agrees to. "If he's not there, then..."

"I'll find him," Arias promises, the look in his eyes saying he'd allow nothing else.

I nod, not bothering to ask how he'd manage it.

Arias and I had our differences but we didn't doubt each other's strengths.

He'd find him.

"There's another play at hand," Wenquie interjects while he palms one of his daggers.

"Newborns seem to make up their bulk. They're all erratic and untrained. They must be barely turned because they were so frantic they could barely hold their line. They don't seem ready and yet..."

And yet, Diablos stood proudly at the front of them all.

Diablos was made for war, specifically for the brutality needed to cut down any force.

Warfare was where he shone. 

If they didn't appear ready, it was because he wanted us to think they weren't.

"He has a plan but so do we," I reply with a glance at Malcolm.

"We will not lose this."

A single hesitant nod.

It was enough.

"When that barrier falls, we attack. We all do," I say, letting the command carry through my forces.

"Not a single life is to be speared. Not one."

"Yes, Pylen."

This ended today.

[rowiewritesstuff]

Yandere G1 Soundwave with auotbot femme reader saving one of his cassette? Please?

Yandere Soundwave X Autobot! Femme! Reader

Out of all the autobots, you were by far the most caring. Despite being enemies of the Decepticons, you never hated them. You knew why they started the war- even if they went about it the wrong way. 

Instead of participating in the violence, you opted to instead keep everything organized, and everyone cared for. You made sure the weapons were cleaned and safe to use, that everyone was recharged and fed, and kept Wheeljack from blowing up the base (every other Friday). You also knew a little bit of first aid to get by.

With that regard, no one ever expected you to fight. You were a pacifist through and through- so when you went on a mission with them, they were shocked. You were just going with the intent of recon for a possible energon source- no one ever expected the fire fight that happened an hour into the mission. 

You hid behind a rock while your Autobot friends fought with the likes of Soundwave, his minicons, and the trine. The battle was fierce as many Autobots and Decepticons alike were injured- and then you saw it. 

A minicon bird was about to be blown up. While they were your enemies, you knew that dying like that was brutal. Before you could stop yourself you were running over, throwing the bird minicon as far as you could away from the explosion.

All you could hear before you were blown up was the shouts of panic from your friends. All of the fighting seemed to have stopped as both sides realized what happened- you had saved a Decepticon.

A moment later, you were knocked unconscious. Everyone looked on in shock or horror as you were thrown into the sky. Smoke surrounded the area you were in, and no one could see what happened for a few moments as the smoke cleared. 

There was your body, lying limp on the ground. Energon leaked from several spots on your body. Many assumed you were dead- and not even the Decepticons mocked your injuries. It was pure silence as Ratchet ran over to you and checked for a spark pulse. 

“She’s alive! Get her back to base, NOW!” The terrified medic called out. The Decepticons went to fight the fleeing Autobots before Laserbeak and Soundwave stopped them. 

Soundwave couldn’t explain his feelings. He had never even seen you before. An Autobot jumping in to save a Decepticon was almost unheard of- and yet, there you were. You jumped into an explosion and there’s no telling if you’ll survive your injuries. You had saved his child, knowing full well you could die. 

Soundwave looked you up in the Decepticon database when he got back. He found out that you were a neutral for a long time until Decepticon forces destroyed your home. Instead of killing, you made it your mission to save lives- Decepticon or Autobot.

At the Autobot base, it took you a month to get back on your feet. Your body was weak, needing extensive physical therapy. Everyone was fretting over you and it drove you crazy- so you snuck out of the base for a drive. You cruised through country roads, with no clue you were being followed. 

Soundwave had been stalking you since you’d been injured, his minicons monitoring your status. He wanted to know why you helped Laserbeak. It was about a week in he found out your hatred for the war. You said you didn’t understand why the Decepticons were still fighting- however you just dreaded the idea of hating them.

Since then, Soundwave wondered if he could turn you to the Decepticons. He found you when you were driving, and jumped in front of you. You were panicked, trying to drive away. You were too slow and the minicons easily stopped you.

You transformed back into your botmode, and held your hands up in surrender. “I don’t want trouble.”

Soundwave tilted his head at you. He thought it was adorable when you shook with fear. He loved how terrified you looked- though he preferred it when you looked happy. 

“Designation: Soundwave.”

You blinked, confused that he told you his name. “O-oh. Nice to meet you- I’m (Y/N).” When he didn’t speak back, you looked down at the minicons. You saw the bird minicon, and smiled. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Laserbeak squawked and landed on your shoulder. He nuzzled into your neck cabling. You giggled at the funny feeling and moved him to your arm. 

Soundwave watched closely- yes, you’d make a great addition to his family. The minicons needed someone motherly to keep them out of trouble when he wasn’t there. Soundwave reached out to you, touching your faceplate. 

“What are you doing?” You looked embarrassed at the close proximity.

“Order: Return with us.” Soundwave grabbed your servo and pulled you along.

“Hey, no! I have to get back to the Autobots- It’s nice to meet you, but I’m no Decepticon!”

You felt something jump on your back- it was Ravage. The other minicons pinned you down to the ground as Soundwave leaned down. “Statement: You have no choice.”

[calmthefuckdownalright]

Can I request different Wilbur variety’s with a reader who is very peaceful and dislikes violence?

Ooooh...pascifist reader. Ultimate innocence against our unhinged lover boy? Don't. Mind. If. I. Do.

Warnings: Does not follow the Dream SMP Season 1 Timeline very well

><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

L'manbur

Now Wilbur in the beginning wishes he could've done this without violence.

And then y'know...things escalated and that changed drastically.

You had been an adoring face for ages to the General and imagine his surprise when the one he loved nearly vomited at the sight of a gash along his cheek

"Darling?! Darling are you okay?! Is it the blood? I can go wash it off really quickly!"

No it wasn't the blood you would confess

It was that you couldn't stand the thought of him going out and fighting for his life and passion.

You would explain and things would twist.

Wilbur would turn to more negotiating terms much to Tommy's dismay

An agreement would be reached on shaky terms and bows and swords would be at the ready.

An unsteady treaty with fine lines and disagreeable terms on the L'manberg side but it kept things at ease for a long while. A while enough that Wilbur could figure out a way to finish this cold war quickly.

Needless to say the word ‘war’ is used and war always means violence, which you did not like.

Wilbur was careful in his attacks and being the clever fellow he is was able to manage independence under the guise of many many zombie, creeper, and even skeleton “accidents”

Wilbur would go to any lengths for those and that of which he loves, and if that means hiding a few bombs and traps behind unknowing enemy lines then so be it.

Alivebur (AKA Vil!bur)

He loves you no doubt

And he hates it when you despair and worry and fret and blah blah blah

It makes his gut turn and his head pound

He knows there’s no other way to finish this. No other way to “save” L’manberg

He’s ready to give it all up with whatever it takes

Wilbur wishes you weren’t like this

He wishes you didn’t choke on air when you smelled gunpowder and blood on his clothes

“I know baby, I’m sorry, please forgive me.”

He tells you this so much it might as well be tattooed on his tongue.

Then he finally blows it all up and he does it right to your face.

You don’t grieve for him very long as the reminder of his violence drowned away and built over.

Ghostbur (Follows Vilbur)

Ghostbur doesn’t like violence much either and is constantly agreeing with you

It’s strange and wonderful how different Ghostbur is from the Wilbur you knew

“Let’s look away okay? Here come play with Friend for a bit and I’ll come get you when it’s all over!”

You followed him to Logstedshire (I hope I spelt that right) and endured the days and nights that Dream visited while you and Ghostbur did as well

You helped him forge the compasses and couldn’t help but think:

Maybe Wilbur dying was the best thing that could’ve happened for you.

It isn’t long before you and Ghostbur are in a relationship

One that didn’t fight but talked out their issues

One that communicated and avoided conflict, even if it meant burying it in the past.

“What’s worse, hearing BadBoyHalo say fuck or blowing up an entire nation?”

Now when THIS happens? 

“I did what?”

It isn’t long before Quackity is on your shit list. A dislike of violence isn’t a dislike of hate

It takes about a week to get Ghostbur out of that stupor and even then he’s fingering blue and apologizing for the littlest things.

Philza steps in and tries to help. 

Really in turn of Ghostbur dealing with a reader who dislikes violence it’s more of Reader helping Ghostbur with his violent past

Simpbur/Yanderebur

Alright, you don’t like violence?

He invites you to play racing games and simulations

Animal Crossing on nights you don’t want to go out and flowers and take-out in the park when you do.

Simpbur knows the world is pretty violent and the fact you dislike it makes his bones tingle every time a stranger cat calls or wolf whistles at you down the street

He’s very discreet with his dealings and tends to sneak away vigilante style when he has a target pinned.

“I’ve just got to run to the bathroom love okay? I’ll be back in a bit.”

Comes back with torn knuckles and a cut across his cheek.

“I fell a bit and got a little angry. Please don’t be sad, I’m okay.”

Of course in situations like this sometimes violence is unavoidable.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

...well then

How’s everyone doing? Happy New Year’s and I’m gonna go collapse with my cat before I do it here.

[burninghalls]

❝the archons have sent me a fool to love❞

summary: alhaitham is a fool and you hate him so pairings: alhaitham x gender neutral reader tw/cw: enemies to lovers (obviously), one sided hatred, hurt/comfort, alhaitham is an oblivious dense idiot, happens before sumeru archon quest (they still have the Akasha Terminal), maybe ooc but I hope not too much

If it wasn’t for the cold breeze of the rain or the fastening drops of water, you would’ve gotten home by now. You made sure to check the weather forecast this morning; you even did a double-check in case you read the wrong thing. It was said that the day was going to be mostly sunny with a bit of cloudy weather during the evening. But alas, you’ve been fooled once more by the now questionable data from Akasha Terminal.

Was this Lesser Lord Kusanali’s doing? Is this the punishment you have to endure as the result of the long-lasting unfaithfulness toward the archons you’ve held for so long? Whatever this is, sulking under the roof of the Akademiya is not going to help you one bit. But then again, you would rather not get your clothes soaked.

Perhaps you can ask Kaveh for help.

The reminder of the lovely blond architect has put your mind at ease. Perhaps Kaveh has decided to bring an umbrella before he leaves this morning, or even if he didn’t, then you can at least have someone to sit around with while waiting for the rain to stop.

The walk to the House of Daena isn’t something to fret about. In a few minutes, you can already see the door leading to the inside of the enormous library. Sometimes you wonder how many kinds of books are available in there. You love reading as much as the rest of the students do, but even you know there are still hundreds of books whose covers you haven’t marked with your fingers. Still, reading is an essential need for a student, even if it manages to tire you one of these days.

But just to your luck, you couldn’t spot the familiar lock of blond hair upon entering the place. You’ve even asked some people around if they have seen Kaveh in the past hours, but most of them were too enamored by the contents of their books to notice anyone around. Plus, judging by the thick papers of each book they hold, it would be safe to assume they have been enamored for at least the whole day. You might’ve felt sorry for their workloads if it weren’t for the stacks of paper that have been untouched for days, just laying around on your own table at home.

"I thought you left an hour ago."

Great, just great. How can this day be any worse than this? Surely it cannot.

Kaveh has said a lot of things about Alhaitham. The most dominant words to describe the seemingly harmful man are arrogance and pride. You’re not someone who judges people so quickly just by what others think about them. But Alhaitham is a special case. Being in the same Darshan as the man isn’t helping your resentment towards him either.

"It started to rain a while ago. I had to take care of some stuff before I leave, and suddenly I noticed the water drops," you explained coldly, never once looking at him. You busy yourself once again with scanning the room, looking for someone to save you from the horrible disaster you’re about to encounter.

"You didn’t bring an umbrella?" he asks of you, and your brain starts forming the conclusion that Alhaitham is very dense at noticing your looks of hatred towards him. He’s always been like this, even since the first day you mocked him bluntly in front of his own face. "Are you looking for Kaveh?"

Dense, but not stupid. "I was, but I couldn’t find him. Do you know where he is?" You may as well ask him now that he’s more than willing to start a conversation with you. The feeling is not mutual, however.

"He went home early to finish some of his deadlines. You know how he is." Classic Kaveh and his stupid tendencies toward procrastination. "I can take you to him if you want. He’s my roommate after all."

"I didn’t bring my umbrella this morning," you answered him with a polite smile, as polite as you could muster. "It’s fine, I’ll wait here until the rain stops."

"That won’t do." You finally looked over at him for the first time since he first talked to you. You can see his brows furrowing with the determined gaze he throws at you. Oh no, this is never a good sign. "I can’t let you wait here for the rest of the day. Who knows when the rain will finally come to an end? I insist you let me take you home since I’ve brought an umbrella with me."

"No, it’s okay." You insist on having him back.

"No, please. Let me help you just this once." He’s a very persistent man, but you’re as stubborn as a rock.

"You don’t have to pretend to care like this," you said. "I know you would rather go home by yourself, and frankly, so do I. Please just let me stay here. I have some unfinished works that need to be done here anyways, and there are some books that I need to read."

Alhaitham drops his cool facade, and you swear you can see a stroke of disappointment painting his face. "Is it the essay from the lecture last week? I’ve already finished mine; perhaps I can help you with that."

He’s infuriating. "I’ve told you, it’s alright, Alhaitham. I would feel indebted to you if you offered me such a favor. I need not have that; I’m capable of doing it by myself."

Before you can walk away from him, however, he decided to win the pointless argument you two have going on. "I’ve been holding the books that you require for the essay. I even asked for an extended period for borrowing the books. I know you know as well that the Akasha Terminal might not offer you information as good as the old books here do. So, I’m afraid staying here any longer would give you no satisfying result at the end of the day unless you reconsider my offer."

You take a deep breath. "How much do I need to pay for you to give me the books, then?"

"Zero mora and a few minutes of your time." His answer makes your blood boil.

Truthfully, when you first met Alhaitham, you didn’t think that any hatred would come between the two of you. He’s a well-educated person, and so are you. With enough time and process, you both might even be able to be friends because your brains work perfectly for each other. And you both did get along at first. Alhaitham’s brain completed yours, as yours did to him. Until the first result for the monthly exam came in.

You were in second place, and honestly, at that time, you were fine with it. Life doesn’t have to be a competition; as long as you get a good score, you’re more than happy with your result. That was until Alhaitham told you about his score. You knew Alhaitham quite well at that time, so it didn’t surprise you that he had managed to score first on the rankings. You were about to give him a congratulatory note when he started to compare his results with yours. Ending the day with broken pride, you decided to stay away from Alhaitham from now on. It angered you more when he approached you the next day, not knowing that his words from the day before had managed to hurt you more than he realized. When you told him about this, however, he answered with an unbothered reply that sounded like he did mean to hurt your feelings after all.

It was such a shame that you even used to admire him so much during the short period of time you both bound yourselves into a friendly relationship. If it wasn’t for Kaveh, you might’ve avoided the man like a plague the moment you decided to end things with him.

"Why do you want to be with me so badly? This isn’t the first time you’ve done this, you know? I’ve told you many times I don’t want to be associated with you anymore." He flinched at your words.

Alhaitham nods after a beat. He doesn’t look like he likes the decision you’ve made, but he can’t do anything about it. "I’ll leave once you tell me why you’ve been avoiding me for months now. Did I do something wrong to you?"

With all your might, you hold yourself back from groaning in annoyance. Is he playing with you right now? How could he not know? "Because you’re arrogant and too prideful for my liking. Remember that one time you bragging about your score being higher than mine? Or that time you literally shoved your achievements in my face?"

"Huh?" He seems to be deep in thought, perhaps calculating his next words to minimize the damage he could’ve brought to this conversation. "You don’t like it when I do that?"

"I don’t what?" Now you’re just as confused as ever.

"I wasn’t familiar with the concept of relationships that much; the only strong relationship that I’ve had is the one with my grandmother," he begins. "I’ve had friends before, but none I can call a close friend. Kaveh is another example of a failed result of me trying to befriend someone, though it’s mostly his fault for having such an insufferable personality. But then there’s you. We clicked almost instantly, and perhaps you’re the only person I can tolerate. Your company is actually quite enjoyable for me, and I wish I could spend more time with you. What I’m trying to say is that the bragging I’ve been doing to you was an attempt to impress you."

"Impress me?"

"Yes, impress you. But it seems like it’s not as effective as I thought it would be." You think? " There was this one book that I read once, when you were still talking to me, that spoke about how to get closer to someone. At that time, I needed help since I loved what we had, and I would do anything to keep it that way. I was afraid that my upbringing might cause a strain in our newfound relationship, so I read the book until the very last page. One of the passages said that people like it when you’re proud of yourself and confident of your own talents. So I did so to you, but now that I think about it, I overdid it a bit."

This man is ridiculous. "I agree, you did overdo it. I tried to tolerate it once, but after it happened again, I figured being friends with you would only cause the both of us pain. I don’t want to compete with my own friend." He sighs at your words. "But, I do realize that I should’ve told you about what I felt. Instead of just running away from you, I should’ve said something to fix it. I won’t stand here to lie and say that I’ve never liked your company as well."

With carefully threaded words and a calculative mood on his side, he raised his arms to reach yours, and you accepted him. "I’m truly sorry. I never knew my words would bring you such pain. I should’ve been more careful about how I acted around the people I loved."

The people, who what?

Alhaitham is quick to notice your distressed expression. "Forgive me. You don’t have to say anything right away, and you can even reject my advances now if you want. I won’t force you to reciprocate the feelings I have for you, but I can’t keep it within me if we want to try to at least be friends again. I've really missed you, and if you want, we can try to salvage our broken relationship. I care not what you think of me after this; I ask nothing but your forgiveness."

He said it so simply that you wouldn’t feel your stomach doing a flip and your heart being stabbed by thousands of swords just by hearing his words. In truth, your feelings for Alhaitham have always been more than just friendship since the very beginning. The man is undeniably handsome, and his intelligence has only made him more attractive in your eyes. Perhaps that is why the hatred you feel for him runs deeper than the hatred you would’ve felt if he were merely a friend. To witness the scholar confess himself before you is indeed another thing. But even then, you tried to compose yourself, even with the raging tide inside of you.

"You’re saying that you have had feelings for me all along?" You laugh as he sighs in embarrassment. "You’re quite adorable, you know. I’m surprised you didn’t tell me about this way earlier; it seems like you’re not as stupid as I thought."

"I’m not stupid. Just inexperienced," he defends himself, but smiles along when his eyes catch your own. "You’ve hurt me too, you know. I may have the most faults, but you aren’t innocent either."

"Hm, you’re right. I’m sorry. And for the record, your feelings are definitely reciprocated," you said. "We’re both so stupid."

Alhaitham then tugs at your hands, trying to drag you away with him. "Now that that’s settled, I assume you won’t mind me walking you home then?" You notice the way he looks away from you in an attempt to hide his blush. But still, you agreed to his request happily.

"As long as you promised to show me the book you mentioned earlier later. I’m curious now that you’ve brought it up."

He groaned at your request but agreed anyway. You wonder what Kaveh would think about the two of you now.

[edosianorchids901]

I Don't Hate You

@flashfictionfridayofficial prompt - "Didn't mean it"

Oh, he’s not my friend. We’ve never met before. We don’t know each other.

The words raced in laps around Aziraphale’s mind, seeming to charge forward with increasing vigor each time they repeated. Like predators, perhaps, speeding up to overcome his every desperate attempt to flee from them.

“Crowley knows perfectly well that it’s nothing personal,” he said to the empty room as he packed his belongings for the long ride to Edinburgh. “He’s well aware of the need for secrecy in such a relationship. Or, no, not relationship. Acquaintance…ship?”

Oh Lord. He was being absurd by fretting so much about this, about the choice of words when he was all by himself. Alone, there was no need to be so very cautious.

And yet, best not to get in the habit of things that could easily get them both killed.

“It’s not as though he seemed distressed by my comment. He was grinning after,” Aziraphale said to the spare cloak, tucking it in his bag. “If he was upset with me, he certainly wouldn’t have given me such a wonderful present. Making Hamlet popular is hardly the act of one stricken by rejection.”

The thoughts seemed to circle even faster now. He sighed, trying to ignore the trembling in his hands.

“Besides. It’s all to keep him safe. He must be used to it by now,” Aziraphale said to the stack of three books as he stashed them with the cloak. “Why, I’ve said that we’re not friends so many times that he probably thinks I absolutely despise him!”

Aziraphale froze, another book in hand. He stared at the wall for a moment, at his tapestry of the Garden. At the angel high above, and the Serpent slithering through the grass.

Then he slammed down the book, twisted around, and rushed out of his room.

It wasn’t a long walk from his place to Crowley’s, and he covered it in quick pattering strides. But no matter how fast he walked, it wasn’t fast enough to outrun the memory of what he’d said to the only being who had ever truly cared about him.

He knocked once on Crowley’s door, then simply miracled it open and stepped inside. Crowley had been leaning back in a chair with a cup of wine in one hand, sunglasses off, but he straightened at once. “Angel? You all right?”

“I don’t hate you!” Aziraphale blurted.

Crowley stared at him, wide eyed. “Er. That’s good.”

“No, I mean…” Lost, Aziraphale flapped his hands in the air. “I didn’t mean it.”

“You didn’t mean you don’t hate me?” Crowley asked slowly.

“No! I don’t mean that I didn’t mean that I don’t hate … that is to say… I have met you!” Oh, he was making such a mess of this. “I’ve met you, we do know each other.”

“Yes, Aziraphale. We know each other.” Looking increasingly concerned, Crowley set his wine down and rose. He crossed the room and touched Aziraphale’s arm, giving a little sympathetic pout. “Did you hit your head?”

“No, I haven’t hit my head! I mean that I don’t hate you!” Aziraphale could hardly breathe now, increasingly agitated. Oh, oh, why couldn’t he figure out how to explain this in a way that made sense? “But the thing is… We’re supposed to be enemies and if I admit it I could get you killed and I’d never be able to forgive myself if—”

“Angel, angel, shhhh.” Suddenly, Crowley’s hand was cradling his cheek, and Aziraphale forgot everything else he meant to say. He sank into the touch, eyes closing. “Slow down. S’ okay. Don’t freak out, all right? Whatever’s wrong, we’ll figure it out. Lend a hand, remember?”

“Yes, that’s… that’s what I meant. We help each other.” Tears welled in Aziraphale’s eyes as Crowley’s thumb stroked across his cheek, a tender brush. “What I said at the Globe is what I didn’t mean.”

“Ohh,” Crowley said softly. “Okay. I get it. Aziraphale, seriously, you don’t need to tell me that we’re friends.”

Startled, Aziraphale opened his eyes. “I don’t?”

“No, ‘course not. We’ve been friends for what, five and a half thousand years, give or take a century?” A bright grin spread across Crowley’s face again, his eyes soft with affection. “What you said earlier was you trying to keep me safe. You’re always trying to keep me safe.”

“Oh…” Still tearing up, Aziraphale risked mirroring Crowley’s gesture. He cradled the sharp angles of Crowley’s jaw and cheek, gazing into the golden eyes that somehow went even softer. “You marvelous old serpent. Here I was, panicking that you’d think I despised you…”

“You don’t have to worry about that.” Crowley closed his eyes and leaned forward, gently touching his brow to Aziraphale’s. “You don’t have to worry about anything, angel. S’ all right.”

Aziraphale let his own eyes close now, tingling pleasure spreading through him at the sweet contact. His breaths slowed as they stood together, and the racing thoughts finally calmed. He did have many, many things to worry about. But at least now, he knew that the strength of his friendship with Crowley was not one of them.

[writefightandflightclub]

I have a kind of scary doctors appointment today (i'm okay, i just dont really know whats going on, therefore scary) and i was hoping you could do a hc or something about one of the oscar isaac boys (maybe poe) comforting you before the appointment/going with you/being all sweet and caring after?

Poe is worried about you when he hears you need to visit the MedBay, of course. He loves you very much, and he absolutely hates seeing you fret.

But, if there’s one thing Poe is known for (besides his good looks and his wicked flying skills), it’s his ability to remain buoyant with hope. To see the possibility for light even in the darkest situations.

Poe truly believes things can and do still turn out for the best.

He believes in a lot of things. He believes in his colleagues in the Resistance. Those who conscientiously trained to serve in the MedBay, and who use their extensive knowledge to seemingly do the impossible day after day.

He believes in you, and your ability to face this scary time head-on - just like he’s seen you face down the enemy and pilot your ship right through danger time and time again, in so many ways. Even when it’s hard.

Even when your courage falters, Poe knows the strength of you, and he does everything he can to make sure you don’t forget it either.

Still, Poe knows that today is not easy for you. That you have a lot of questions. That as brave as you are, that today, you need a little extra morale support. After all, who doesn’t, from time to time?

So, Poe clears his whole schedule for the day.

He is there for you every moment, with soft touches and kisses and hugs and words, liberally and topically applied.

He is there to make you hot drinks and to bring you snacks and treats.

But most of all, he is there to distract you. To take your mind off things for a little while, so that your worry doesn’t begin to spiral you off in dark, imagined directions.

Poe’s distractions are… creative, to say the least.

He gets Beebs to do a little dance for you.

He then does a little dance himself.

He argues with you about the best way to modify a thruster.

He undoes a few extra buttons on his shirt (he’s trying here!).

He kisses your neck in that specific way you like. The one that makes all other thoughts melt away from your brain for a while.

He takes a walk with you to the edge of base, the place fringed with trees and blooming purple flowers.

He points out every bird and interesting sight and smell.

He reads to you, holding you close.

Eventually though, you begin to tire of his distractions.

He sits in the waiting room alongside you, gripping your hand in-between both of his, clinging to you like he’ll never let go… and he’s still blathering on about some holo he really wants to watch with you. Trying so very hard to distract you, like he has all day.

And… you finally snap.

“Poe! Just stop, will you? Please.”

He instantly clamps his mouth shut.

Your voice cracks. “I don’t want you to distract me. It’s not going to change anything!”

Poe’s eyes soften to liquid and he sighs softly, in concession. He comes to cup your face in his palm with a slow blink, gently smoothing his thumb back and forth over your cheek. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I was doing what I needed. Honestly? I… don’t want to think about this. At all. I love you, and it’s a little scary.”

Your eyes brim with tears as you absorb the strength of feeling in his voice. The emotion behind it.

Poe’s approach had come from the right place, but you understand now. Understand that what you really needed wasn’t to ignore your feelings or push them down, but to sit with them. To accept them in the moment as valid. To acknowledge them as natural.

“It is scary,” you admit.

Poe’s features stretch into a watery smile. “What can I do?�� Poe breathes softly, totally ready now to listen.

“Just be here, Poe. Just be here with me.”

He is. He is always here for you. That he can do, and for the first time all day, Poe truly looks relaxed when he realises he can be just what you need after all. “You got it,” he says with conviction, and he enfolds you in his arms, drawing you in to his warm chest. You feel the weight of his head settle against yours. The gentle thudding of his heart against the shell of your ear. His hands smoothing back and forth over you. He drops a lingering kiss to the top of your head. “Always.”

You take a deep breath in time with him, and for the first time all day, a sense of deep calm radiates out from your middle, because suddenly, you know for sure. No matter what Poe does it won’t change anything, no. You’d been right about that. But whatever happens, you are sure now - more than ever - that you will face it together. Maybe with fear, yes, but also with lashings of hope and courage. With all the things that Poe is known for… and all the things you are equally known for too.

Poe holds you and rocks you and kisses you, and together you wait.

You don’t have the answers yet, but you choose to believe that it will all be okay. His hope is catching, like a fire from a spark, and it warms your middle like a hearth.

[nightlilly0110]

Jayvik Headcanons

Jayce definitely made Viktor a new cane after the events of Episode 3 because he felt bad that the Enforcers broke it. (Viktor laments the loss of the knife that was in the tip. Jayce still doesn’t know if he was joking. He wasn’t.)

Jayce only knows the Russian Zaunite words for “whatchamacallit”, “doohickey”, and “thingamajig” because Viktor uses them constantly when asking for tools. When they get together he also learns the phrases for “my love” and “my heart” (This obviously doesn’t apply to Mother Tongue Jayce)

Before Viktor got sick he used to spend his days off getting a new book and grabbing a coffee before going home to start said book. Jayce would then listen intently the next day as Viktor told him the plot and all the issues he had with the book (if he hated it) or things he enjoyed about it (if he liked it). Other times, he’d head down to Zaun to take a look at the markets or things.

When Jayce said that Viktor “disappears sometimes”, he’s usually gone out for a walk to clear his head on days where his leg didn’t hurt as much. He usually ends up in Zaun because the noises of crowds feel a little comforting and make sure he’s not stuck thinking about work all the time. Other times he ends up browsing shops in Piltover, with the same effect.

Jayce was actually a very small, chubby kid and it’s actually ridiculous if you look at pictures of him from when he was little in comparison to now because you wouldn’t have guessed they were the same person. Jayce was a very baby-faced kid. Viktor on the other hand is like the Get Some Rest Tall Child meme. (If you put baby Jayce and baby Viktor beside each other, Viktor would be taller)

The lab is covered in things that look important but upon closer inspection are just mechanical puzzles and elaborate fidget toys both of them have made to use when stressed. It’s a huge affair when one needs to be scrapped for parts. There is a whole ass “trial” on debating which one has to go and it takes hours for deliberation.

Coffee and sweetmilk are the only things their lab never runs out of because if it does it would not be pretty. But there is also a constant issue of not having the right parts when you need them but coffee takes priority.

Viktor sometimes comes to the forge when Jayce is working to bounce ideas off of him. Jayce has yet to realize he’s being ogled at every single time, even after they get together.

Viktor took Jayce to a lot of his favourite places in Zaun. Jayce knows how to get to them without Viktor’s help because he didn’t want to get lost down there and can get to them even when he and Viktor are not on speaking terms. He never went without Viktor, however.

No matter what Jayce is wearing, he looks “too Piltie” and sticks out like a sore thumb in the undercity regardless of if people recognize him either as the Man of Progress or the Defender of Tomorrow.

Viktor never told Jayce about his feelings for him when he thought he was dying because he didn’t want to pursue a relationship and put that sort of grief onto Jayce. Likewise, he didn’t say anything about his illness until he had to because he didn’t want Jayce to be fretting over him/prematurely grieving. He wanted Jayce to remember the good things about him. (I’m also surprised they didn’t fight about that, Jayce getting made at Viktor for not telling him he was sick)

I like to imagine that they don’t get together until much later in their relationship. Like they go from friends to enemies to friends to lovers. It makes so many things complicated and it makes it hard for them to care for each other when one of them is a wanted criminal and the other is supposed to catch said wanted criminal, but they make it work.

Blitzcrank is the number one Jayvik shipper solely for the purpose of “yay two dads” and “yay more friends”.

One of the hextech gemstones is what powers Viktor’s augments, and when he’s feeling especially sappy (a rare occasion) he makes reference to the fact that Jayce gave him “his new heart.”

Jayce definitely uses more nicknames than Viktor (specifically Russian diminutives of his name) but Viktor does call Jayce “darling” or “dearest” when he wants to tease him. He still does so when they’re full on fighting because it makes Jayce’s brain falter long enough for Viktor to get in a good punch to the face.

Viktor once asked Jayce for a painting lesson in an attempt to get him to take a break. This is where the painted mug from that one art piece came from. (Jayce isnt as artistic as Mel but he is really good at doing their diagrams for their blueprints)

If students ask Viktor why his body’s Like That he gives very contradictory statements about how he got his augments to fuck with them. Jayce tells him to stop but he never does.

Even when they were fighting, Caitlyn would jokingly refer to Viktor as Jayce’s boyfriend. It pissed him off not because he was insulted, but because he missed Viktor, although he never would have admitted that to her. Caitlyn’s too shocked when they actually get together to say “I told you so.”

Viktor is actually really eccentric, but he knows how to act diplomatic when he needs to. Jayce is the only one really privy to how dangerous Viktor can be, if only for the fact he has no regard for lab safety and laughs when things literally blow up in his face.

Jayce likes to give Viktor massages for him pain. Even after he augments himself, Jayce still likes to do it even though there’s less to work with.

[slasherhaven]

Hello, I can’t remember if I requested this or not (if I did ignore this ^-^) but could you write slashers reaction to their s/o being taken or held hostage by an escaped survivor? I need some angst please 🙏🥺😩

The Slashers reacting to their S/O being taken or held hostage:

Thomas Hewitt

Held hostage by an escaped survivor. They had escaped from Hoyt (which means he’s about to get a lot of glares and hostility from Thomas, as well as a lecture from Luda May). You had been in the kitchen when the survivor grabbed you, hoping to use you as a bargaining chip. Unfortunately for them, it only made Thomas angry.

Thomas doesn’t take pleasure in his kills, this is different. For Tommy, killing is a job. If he didn’t have to do it, he wouldn’t. This time it’s different. He still does take pleasure in it exactly but he does defintely think that this person deserves it more than anyone else. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt you.

Still makes it quick, more worried about you. He just wants to quickly dispose of the person hurting you and get you away from the scene, he doesn’t what you to see all of this. Once he’s took the body into the basement, he washes up and returns to you. Fussing over you and making sure you’re alright and unharmed. He promises to never let anything like that happen again. He holds you extra tight that night.

Michael Myers

Taken by Loomis. This time the doctor had gone too far, using you to get to Michael. Michael had been Loomis’ pet project all his life and you had grown to hate the man from the stories you had heard of him. Michael was furious. You belonged to him, Loomis had no right to be anywhere near you.

Has to prove a point. He will stop at nothing and spare no lives in order to get you back. He wants everyone to know that if they touch what’s his, they will meet the same fate. Nobody was ever going to touch you again.

Shows an uncharacteristic amount of concern. Once he gets you somewhere safe, he’s checking over you for injuries, his touch slowly turning from rough and near panicked to gentle and cautious. He’ll be satisfied with what he sees eventually, he just has to see it for himself no matter how much you reassure him.

Jason Voorhees

Held hostage by an escaped survivor. You had been out in the woods, even though Jason always told you to stay in the cabin when trespassers came around.

Makes quick work of the escaped survivor. He doesn’t want you to see anything more gruesome than you have too, so he makes it as quick and clean as possible before whisking you away from the scene entirely.

Fusses over you. As soon as you get back to the cabin, he is checking you over for injuries. Once he knows that you’re alright, he’ll pull you into a tight embrace.

Brahms Heelshire 

Held hostage by an intruder. They had broken into the house with the intention of robbing the place but you had been awake, resulting in them holding you at knifepoint.

Brahms is absolutely furious. As soon as he sees the scene, he’s dealing with it, not caring about how much blood there was. He was protecting you. And if you didn’t already know about him, you did now. 

Promises to take care of it. Normally he’s determined to get you to do all the chores around the house. But if you want him to dispose of the body and clean up, he will. Though, you might take the more sensible route of calling the police and being honest about this being self defence.

He’s going to give you lots of hugs and kisses afterwards. He was so scared when he thought he might lose you and, he’s going to be extra clingy for a while.

Bo Sinclair 

Held hostage by an escaped survivor. Even if it was his fault they got away, he would find a way to blame someone else. Especially when it puts you in harms way.

See’s red. He can be an angry guy but you’ve never seen him like this. He’ll handle it though, dealing with the victim brutally. Even if he’s using a gun, he’s shooting multiple rounds into them.

Get’s Vincent and Lester to clean up. They can dispose of the body, he’s more focused on you. He’s never going to apologise for being a reason that you got into this mess in the first place. But you know that he knows it because he’s being extra nice to you. Ask him to do something during his time of silent remorse and he will do it with out a snappy comment, which is a miracle.

Vincent Sinclair 

Held hostage by an escaped survivor. As soon as he found out about the escapee, he hurries to find you, to make sure you don’t encounter them.

Wants to protect you, both from the survivor and from what he had to do. He knew that he had to get the victim away from you, he had to deal with them, but he doesn’t want you to see him kill somebody if you’re not comfortable with that. So, he’ll make it as quick and clean as possible, getting you away as quick as possible without having you see too much.

Will fret and won’t leave you be for a while. He’s going to fuss over you, even if you’re completely unharmed. But if you are harmed, he won’t stop until he’s satisfied that he’s tended to it as best he can. Work can wait for a while, Bo and Lester can deal with things. He just wants to hold you for a while, after being so afraid that he might lose you.

Lester Sinclair 

Held hostage by an escaped survivor. You were just about to head home and let the twins deal with the victims, but one had escaped, grabbing you before you could leave.

Doesn’t have problems with killing this person. Lester doesn’t usually do any of the killing in Ambrose and when he does have to do it, it never sits quite right with him. This is different, he’s protecting you, so he has no problem killing them. He will likely just shoot them, only resorting to his knife if he has no other choice.

Apologises for ever getting you in this mess. He’s so apologetic for being the reason you’re in this town and in this mess...in danger. He’ll relax a little while you reassure him you’re alright and that that isn’t his fault. But he’s taking you home straight away, the twins can deal with all of this, his attention is more on you right now.

Bubba Sawyer 

Held hostage by an escaped survivor. One of the brothers let them get away, Bubba would never forgive himself is somebody got away from him and hurt you.

Panicked but determined. He’s absolutely terrified of you getting hurt, making him panic. But your well-being being at risk focuses him all at the same time. He’s quick to deal with your capture and get you away from them.

Lot’s of concern for you. Bubba completely forgets about the survivor once they’re dead, all he cares about is making sure you’re alright. He goes to reach out for you but stops when he remembers the blood on his hands. But you don’t care, pulling him into a hug and thanking him for protecting you. Once he’s holding you, he won’t let go for a while, fussing over you, making sure you’re alright, lot’s of concerned babbling and cooing.

Billy Lenz 

Held hostage by an intruder. Somebody broke into the house, a burglary that ended with you being held at knifepoint.

Billy is quick to get to you both. As soon as he sees what is happening, he scrambles to get to you. He catches the intruder by surprise, attacking before they even really notice him. You’ll have to calm him down, his hands will be bloody and shaking, looking at you with wide eyes. He just experienced a lot of adrenaline and panic.

Either take your chances with the police or help him dispose of the body. Sure, it’s technically self defence, this person broke into your home, but there is definite overkill that law enforcement might question. Still, the adrenaline rush and panic might be enough of an explanation for them.

Both of you need some love afterwards. Of course you had been scared, and he had been terrified of losing you. So, plenty of cuddles and reassurance is in order.

Asa Emory (The Collector) 

Held hostage by an escaped survivor. He’s ashamed of accidently letting a victim escape, he’ll need to be more thorough in the future. He’s even more ashamed that they got to you and were able to put you in harms way.

Takes you and the survivor by surprise. He wants them to be off guard, to think that nobody is coming, before striking. They’re subdued quickly and smoothly by Asa. He is then turning his attention to you, making sure you’re unharmed and alright, wiping any tears, before taking the victim somewhere secure.

Oh, they are definitely doing to suffer for this. If they thought they had it bad before, they’re going to be in hell once Asa returns to deal with them.

Is extra nice to you afterwards. He knows that this was his fault, that you being at the hotel with him had put him in danger. He’s gentler, softer, sweeter. You notice it but don’t comment. You wouldn’t want him to stop.

Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull) 

Taken by an enemy. Jesse had lots of enemies, all wanting to get to him in some way. And one of them decided that the best way to hurt him was to hurt you.

Goes to extremes to track you down. He will do whatever it takes to get you back, go wherever he needs too, and go through whoever gets in his way.

Will make them suffer. They don’t get a quick death, Jesse will make sure that they suffer for what they did. Even if they never managed to hurt you, they took you, they had the intention, and that’s already crossing too many lines for Jesse.

You are going to be treated very well, even more than normal, for a while. First, he makes sure you’re alright and gets you whatever help you might need. When he gets you home, he’s upping security and making sure you’re safe and sound. If you want something, just ask, he’s getting it for you. He’s also staying home for a while, both for security and because he was genuinely worried about losing you.

Otis Driftwood 

Held hostage by an escaped survivor. One of the victims had escaped from the basement, taking you hostage when they found you upstairs. Otis was seriously pissed when he saw the sight.

They’re going to pay for ever touching you. There is no way of calming him down. He is going to torture them for as long as he can before they eventually die. Even then, he’ll be furious that they dared lay a hand on you.

Once you offer some affection, he’s quick to accept. He’s still fuming but he wants to check on you. So, he’s ranting as he makes you’re alright. As soon as you try to calm him down, assuring him that you’re alright, and telling him to just be with you for a moment, he’ll give into you.

Baby Firefly 

Held hostage by an escaped survivor. They had gotten out of the basement and ran right into you. Recognising you as part of the family, they took you hostage, trying to bargain their way to freedom.

Going to make them suffer. There is no way Baby is going to let that happen. She’s quick to attack them and get them away from you, wounding them but not killing them. She’d be taking them down to the basement to punish accordingly.

You deserve lots of cuddles when she’s done. Once she’s made sure you’re alright and has let out her anger on the victim, who is now dead, she will return to you for the night. She understands that you might be shaken or just need her to be with you for a moment and she is more than happy to provide that.

Yautja (Predator) 

Taken by an enemy. He doesn’t have many enemies but there would always be something that comes up. They had taken you to get to him.

His search will be ruthless. He would search to the ends of the universe for you, ripping through galaxies if that’s what it takes. Nothing is more important to him than his mission, finding you and bringing you home safe.

There is no way he’s letting your capture live. He will kill the mercilessly, sending a message to anyone else who even thinks about laying a hand on you. If anyone hears about the extremes he would go through for you, they’d be smart to stay away.

He’s apologetic. No worries, nobody is ever going to hurt you again. That’s a promise. But he is apologetic for being the reason you might have gotten hurt. He’ll do whatever he can to make it up to you.

[re8-drabbles]

Some RE: Village Relationship Headcanons?

The Duke

Saved you from a pack of lycans when you accidently strayed into the village.

Started off on the wrong foot.

Duke: Found yourself in a pinch, haven't you?

Y/N: Fuck off...

Duke: Now, now, if you would rather stay out here and continue to play with lycans and get yourself killed, be my guest... but, if you would rather survive... You'd best change your tone.

Y/N: ....

Duke: That's better.

He allowed you to stay in his cart until you healed, but started falling for you the moment he got to know you.

Duke: So you have just been wandering all over Europe in hopes of finding a cure?

Y/N: ...Yeah pretty much. I know, it's pretty stupid.

Duke: I wouldn't call it stupid, as much as adventurous. Is that why you found yourself in the village?

Y/N: Yeah... I wasn't planning on being greeted by lycans when I first set foot.... I never properly thanked you for saving me or apologized for how I reacted, I'm sorry about that.

Duke: It's all water under the bridge, love. I'm just glad I happened to be at the right place, at the right time.

Both came to conclusion after the heart to heart that you both were enamored with each other.

Duke: ....Would you be interested in being more then friends?

Y/N: I thought you would never ask.

Loves it when you slip under his arm, get comfortable at his side, and cuddle.

Loves it even more when you give him suprise hugs from the back when he's looking stressed or uncomfortable.

Finds it sweet, but ironic, how much you fret over him.

Y/N: "Are you sure you are not cold? The lycans do not bother you, do they? Are you feeling well? You are not hurt, are you?"

Duke: I'm perfectly fine, my dear. Now you, on the other hand, need to come inside. Your finger tips are turning blue.

Hates seeing you upset or scared, but loves how your first instinct is to grab and hold his hand.

Y/N: I am not scared! Your hands are just really warm...

Duke: Of course, love.

Secretly gets a little jealous when others flirt with you, but he'll never admit it to you.

Will also passive aggressively hike up the price of items for the individual who flirted.

Heisenberg: 900 Lei?! That's ridiculous!

Duke: These have been hard to come by lately.

He knows you believe that even the worst person can change, and he loves that about you, but it makes him sick with worry.

Y/N: Are you okay, love?

Duke: I'm fine, just a little tired. Could you do me a favour?

Y/N: Anything.

Duke: Please stay by my side? You are too important for me to lose, and this village is swimming with enemies you are not ready to take on.

Y/N: ... I don't want to be a burden.

Duke: You could never be a burden to me.

He will protect you from everything and anything.

Keeps a lot of books and hobby items on hand for you.

It melts his heart when you give him one of your rare smiles.

He hates how the Lord's like to call you his "pet", but allows it, if it keeps you safe from their wrath.

Heisenberg

First time you met, he had trapped you under Mother Miranda's orders.

Karl: Long way from home, aren't we?

Y/N ... I like your glasses, can I try them on?

Karl: Uh.... No.

Mother Miranda allowed him to do what he wanted with you, as she assessed that you were no threat.

He decided to keep you around.

He became enthralled by how bold and eccentric you are.

Realized he had fallen for you when he came back from a meeting with the Lords, and caught you wearing his clothes in the mirror mimicking him.

Karl: I should be mad... But you do a damn good impression and they look good on you.

Y/N: *surprised shriek*

Loves how you only show your soft side to him.

Sometimes, he is taken aback by your agressive side.

Karl: Did you just threaten to choke out that lycans with the disemboweled intestine of its friend?

Y/N: maybe.

Karl: I don't think they understand our language-

Y/N: Fear is a universal, Karl.

He loves watching you tinker away with the scraps in his factory and will sometimes animate your creations

He will do anything to protect the childlike wonder you have somehow managed to retain, regardless of everything that has happened

Adores the way you seem to know when he needs a little bit of physical connection.

Karl: How do you always seem to know when to do that?

Y/N: Hmm... Who knows?

When you are sick, he will track the Duke down and pay him double to get medicine from outside the village.

He will often run his fingers through your hair, as you fall asleep.

He will stay until he is sure you are asleep, before slipping out to his lab.

Dimitrescu

Was given charge of you, after Mother Miranda's experiment on you was a success.

She started off as your mentor, but quickly became fond of you.

Your passionate nature was what drew her to you.

Loves to tailor clothing for you and spoil you with the finest of silks and fabrics.

She loves to invest in your hobbies, especially painting. She will place completed works around the castle.

Being much older and taller than you, she feels the need to protect you from the horrors outside the castle walls.

Y/N: Alcina, I must do my rounds of the village. Mother Miranda will be furious if anything slips by.

Alcina: Nonsense! That fool Heisenberg can do the perimeter check. You still have much to learn before you can go outside, even more so before you can go alone.

Y/N: That's not fair to Heisenberg, Alcina. How much longer before I can go outside alone, anyways?

Alcina: Until you reach my age.

Y/N: So....

Alcina: Never.

Gets angry when Heisenberg or the Duke share too many sweet words with you. Heisenberg does it to annoy her and the Duke just enjoys pleasant and polite conversations, but it drives her mad.

Loves to steal kisses from you when you are working.

Y/N: Alcina, please, I'm almost done this portrait and then my attention is all yours.

Alcina: Hmmm, it is much more fun to pester you when you're working though.

Loves to use Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela to pry information from you.

Alcina: So... What did you learn girls?

Bela: Y/N feels a little ignored lately.

Daniela: Y/N is out of titanium white and cadmium red paint.

Cassandra: Y/N finds that the scenery is a bit bland and would love to grow some snowdrops.

Alcina: Ah, thank you girls.

Alcina is usually the first to engage intimate moments; hugs, kisses, touches, and more.

The rare moments you engage in intimacy are her favourites.

[asinnersalibi]

Tips and Tricks

I feel like indulging myself in something beyond mindless cleaning and keeping my cats out of the trash can so here are some tips and tricks to make your writing feel more fleshed out.

Knowledgeable Writing

And I cannot stress this enough, write what you know. The more you research it and the more you try to understand it the more you sound like a text-to-speech system trying to include everything you'd learned in the last forty-five minutes. If you need to go back and look into some things, that's fine, but to stop in the middle of a chapter to research anything from the point system of tennis to how long the human body can survive in less-than-ideal circumstances is fruitless and overall harmful to your progress.

That being said if you are extremely knowable about natural poisons and how they could affect the human body or anything with a similar mass, keep in mind the audience you're writing to. Not everyone understands the difference between belladonna, henbane, and jimson weed.

Don't be afraid to validate yourself, a quick google search is not nearly as harmful, as making yourself feel like it's just not right and fretting about it for the next quarter chapter.

If you don't know, you don't know, there's no shame in it, you slap one of these [], bad boys, in there and review at a later time. Let momentum carry you if it's there.

Critic Management

You are your worse enemy, and your worst critic, literally. There are moments when your writing looks comparable to a toddler's and it's a part of the process. People who look down on you will always compare you to someone better or more talented but that's just smoke and mirrors, they have far more time and experience and you just haven't gotten there yet. Until you die love, time's the only thing you got.

Write for yourself, first. Yes, one day you want to be published and have a fanbase that writes fanfiction and draws fanart of your wonderful process, though, do remember who you started writing for, and why. More often than not I am writing because what I want to see and read and interact with is not there, so I need to put it there. Sure, it sucks sometimes, but you've got to want it, or you've got to need it, those are the choices.

Write it out and see, sometimes it's shit, sometimes it's this wondrous thing you didn't think you were capable of. That's writing, and sometimes our skills are flexible, sometimes we wonder if we ever really learned how to write or if we're randomly pulling this stuff from our ass hoping it's at least comprehensible. That is writing, it's a craft, and you're not always going to be good at it, that's where the going gets tough and you've got to be tougher.

Write, Keep Writing, Yeah- Keep Going

Trust me, it's really easy to notice a mistake three chapters back that disrupts your whole plot, and you think, let me fix it, just real quick, and now you've rewritten chapters three, four, and six, and envisioned your entire plot. Shit happens, and shit will keep happening but that's life. Try not to edit things in the middle of your novel. You'll notice so many mistakes and begin to doubt yourself as a writer but that's the writing process, mistakes are going to happen, you're writing will grow with you and you will grow with your writing. Make a note of it, physically, and write it somewhere correlative to whatever it's referring to (because you won't remember it, trust me.)

On that note, write things down, I have separate notebooks for every serious WIP (and one I use for when I cannot for the life of me find the other ones) I have in progress right now so I can randomly jot down things I need to revisit, keep in mind, or adjust. It's a paper trail and if you're anything like me you'll hate yourself for forgetting those little details. It'll help you immensely in the long run when you start editing and working on the second, third, and sometimes even ninth draft.

It's draft lovely, your first one at that. It's a rough outline of an idea you had last night or that you've had since you were a child. It's meant to be on paper, grammatical errors, plot holes, inconsistent characters and speech patterns and all. It's supposed to be rough, it's supposed to be imperfect, it's supposed to. I promise, your writing is an extension of yourself most time and you've got to admit at some point, that you don't feel all that perfect, no matter how much you love yourself. We have bad days, your writing has bad days too. It's okay, that's why we edit, take all its hard edges, and sand them down to something more tolerable and we mold it into something we consider perfect, in all its imperfections.

Do not be discouraged by progress. Whether it's a lack of or overwhelmingly sum of, take it all in, take a break when you need it and tackle it piece by piece, arc by arc, chapter by chapter, line by line if you have to.

Don't Forget About You

Taking care of yourself is believe it or not a part of the process. You can't forget to eat and drink water and rest your eyes. You can't write for six hours nonstop, or at the very least you shouldn't. Regrettable things come from the general act of self-neglect.

Water is important, so is realizing what you've done is all you can do for the day. Whether it was a chapter, or four, there's a limit to everything and it doesn't make you less of a writer if those limits aren't consistent.

You are writing a legacy love, it takes time, it takes energy, it takes effort. Moderation is key to everything and I'm sure the last thing you want to do is neglect whatever you're working on in a burnout.

Take time for yourself you crinkly little gremlins, water is important and so are sleep, food, and eyeball breaks for the blind bandits such as myself. It can be a lot but shit what are you gonna do? Try?

[peachywrite]

Unpleasant Pleasantries

Rohan Kishibe x JosukeSister!Reader

Trigger Warning: inappropriate stand use, mild suggestive themes

Rohan thought this to be the perfect opportunity to get back at that imbecile with the hair of a 60’s delinquent, but instead found something more fulfilling than revenge.

It was your first time meeting the famous mangaka, but Koichi insisted that you introduce yourself to the newly found stand user as a formality.

~

“It’s better to make friends than enemies, y/n! So please do this for me.” He begged, clasping his hands tightly together as he bowed.

“Koichi-chan, he ripped out pages from your face and tried to do the same to Okuyasu and Josuke. I don’t know if I trust this guy.” You sighed, nervous and even a little scared.

“It’ll be fine, when you tell him you’re related to Josuke, he won’t even think about trying anything!” Koichi’s eyes glistened, still silently begging you to go.

“Fine, but if I don’t show up back home in an hour, call Josuke please.” Koichi nodded enthusiastically, shouting thank yous while he ran off to find your brother.

~

Thanks to the written address Koichi had given you, it was easy to find the large Victorian mansion that belonged to the isolated artist.

“Come on, y/n. You can do this. Just a quick hello and you’re done.” You tried to psych yourself up, taking one last deep breath before approaching the walkway that led up to the door.

Knock Knock

You waited, your heart rate a bit too quick for your liking.

You could hear the steps on the other side slowly approaching and suddenly stopping, only to find the door creak by.

“Now who would be disrupting the Great Rohan Kishibe?” The man spoke in a sinister tone, swinging the door open.

Rohan Kishibe looked nothing like how you expected him to. He was built slim but still toned, his green hair neatly styled and face slim and sharp with a cute dolphin bandage placed on the bridge of his nose. His green eyes stared at you intently, as if he was trying to analyze your face as well.

“I-I’m really sorry I didn’t mean to cause you any trouble. My friend Koichi wanted me to introduce myself. I’m Y/N Higashikata. I’m a stand user and I go to school with the rest of the boys.” You stammer out, guilt hitting you for interrupting the presumably busy manga artist.

The man eyed you with a devilish smirk, clapping his hands together like he had discovered something amusing.

“You’re Josuke’s little sister! Oh how fun! You know, you’re too cute to be related to that boy. Now please come in, I’ll make you some tea and we can talk.”

“I’m actually the same age as him, and I’d love to join you but I got... study plans with K-Koichi!” You tried to avoid his stare but as he made eye contact, you knew you had lost.

“Nonsense! I’ll give him a call and let him know you’ll be studying with me, now please come in already.” His smile grew while he pulled you into his abode by your wrists.

The house was lightly decorated with manga related memorabilia on the wood carved shelves and many original panels from famous mangas hung framed on the soft toned walls, but the home still held a grand Victorian feeling to it.

Your original unease disappeared as you took in the grandeur of the mansion and the interesting items that adorned it so carefully. Rohan smirked at the curiosity in your eyes and the quick movements they made while you focused on specific areas of his home.

“Would you like a personal tour of the property before we study? I will warn you though, not all the rooms have been styled by yours truly yet. It’s a work in progress at the moment.” The smile he bared had you suspicious again, but you didn’t want to be rude to the owner of such a magnificent estate.

“As much as I would love to, your home is absolutely stunning, I sadly only have an hour to study. My mom would kill me if I got home late again.” A hefty sigh escaped your lips and you gave him your best upset expression you could muster.

You hoped he wouldn’t key in on your lying, remembering the warning Koichi had given you about his ability to discern genuine emotions from fake ones.

The mangaka squinted his eyes for a moment, causing your heartbeat to speed up substantially, but his face returned to its usual smile that you swore held a bit of deviousness underneath.

“Oh! it’s alright, dear. I understand. I’ll save it for your next visit. Let’s get to your work now, follow me to the kitchen. I’ll prepare us something and you can take a seat by the window.” He gently took your hand, guiding you to the kitchen and carefully pulling out a seat for you at his dining room table.

A beautiful bouquet set in a hand sculpted vase caught your interest on the table as Rohan busied himself with brewing a fresh pot of tea. The flowers were bright in color compared to the muted ones of the vase, but the contrast made both appear unique and appealing to the eye.

“I see you even appreciate the smaller details of a home. Though I am a mangaka, I do dabble in other forms of artistic expression. Take pottery for example, I glazed this vase in a muted color pallet so it could stand out on its own when beautifully bright flowers were placed in it. The two compliment each other nicely, don’t they?” He set down two tea cups and began to pour.

“Yes! And I especially love the bright purples in the lillies you picked here.” You gently touched a petal, Rohan now lightly tapping his cheek, pulling out a chair for himself to sit right beside you.

His closeness and unwavering gaze brought a heaviness to your chest, making you stumble over your words.

“Um-m thank you for treating me so well and letting me study in your home, Rohan-sensei.” You began to unpack your notes and textbook, Rohan scooting closer to analyze what you had written.

“No need to thank me, my dear. Now let’s get to your studies. What is it you need to work on today?” The smile he shares with you is comforting, but you can’t help but feel like he was plotting something.

You set your pencil bag down and prepare your notebook, trying to make yourself busy by setting up.

“Biology. I’ve only just recently started going to school in person, but I tested well enough to be placed in the highest class. Today we’re supposed to label all the organs in this frog drawing.” Your tone comes off as annoyed and Rohan picks up on it, tilting his head to the side while he reads your frog diagram.

“You aren’t a fan of biology? I’ve got a few anatomy sketches of animals you could use instead of this photocopied worksheet. Maybe that will help peak your interest?” He stands and saunters out to find his sketches, leaving you alone in the kitchen.

When Rohan returns, the two of you work on your Biology homework for about an hour, finishing the entire pot of tea in the process. You found out that Rohan was quite skilled at anatomy, having an entire sketchbook dedicated to the anatomy of many living things, including the likes of frogs and flowers. He was extremely helpful and fun to talk with.

As you packed up your bag, Rohan remained seated in his chair, playing with one of the lilies from the bouquet. You weren’t sure if you should head towards the door and leave Rohan or wait for him to stand and lead you out. You were about to speak when the mangaka interrupted with a swish of his pen in your direction.

“Heaven’s Door.”

You felt a sharp shove of air to your midsection, sending you onto the floor. Every movement you attempted was futile as the grinning artist looked down at you. A deep chuckle haunted you while he leaned in closer to your face. His hands gently caressed your cheek, opening it up like a book.

“I’m sorry, y/n. You’re interesting and I’d love to learn more about you, but I’m impatient. It’ll be far easier for me to just read you. Don’t fret, my dear. I’ll make sure you don’t remember this.” He flipped through your pages, ignoring the tears that ran down onto the very paper he was trying to read.

“Now let’s just read the juicy bits today. You were hospitalized along with your brother when you were only four, a strange parasite made up of Dio’s cells attacked your immune system at age twelve and had you bedridden until fairly recently.” The curiosity he held for your story excited him, the pen he held in one hand quickly wrote onto the notepad he placed on the floor beside your head.

You felt like sinking into yourself, ignoring his quips and teases as the embarrassment of the mangaka reading your thoughts and feelings enveloped you. It wasn’t fair. Why did he have to be this way? He was so kind before and just like a flick of a switch, he changed.

“Oh, now how did you escape that? Here we are, thanks to Mr.Joestar’s Hamon lessons, you not only came back from your illness, but gained a proper stand and the ability to wield Hamon just like your father and great grandfather! Wait, what’s this new paragraph about?” He squinted closely, reading your page out loud again.

“I have to visit Rohan Kishibe today because Koichi told me to. He practically begged. Even though I’m scared, Koichi gave me his word that nothing bad would happen. Rohan Kishibe looks very different from what I imagined a mangaka to look. Well, what did you expect me to look like?” His smirk grows as he continues on.

“Ah, another new bit is here! Rohan Kishibe is very good at anatomy, he’s been kind and helpful, I’d like to get to know him better. I think Josuke was just overreacting when he called Rohan Kishibe pure evil. I could see us being friends.”

His smile disappears skimming the next sentence, his usual tone of voice changed as he starts to read. He sounded upset, hurt even.

You were the one being wronged here! Why would he get upset? He doesn’t have the right.

“Josuke was right. Rohan Kishibe is not nice, he is terribly mean. He’s using me for his entertainment. He doesn’t care. Rohan Kishibe is not kind, he is not helpful, he is cruel, I don’t want to get to know him. I want to forget him.”

“I hate Rohan Kishibe. I hope to never see him again.”

Rohan paused, looking away from your pages, trying to focus on anything else for the moment.

“W-well, I’ll just fix this last paragraph and erase it from your mind. You’re being dramatic, I’m not as terrible as you describe me.” Chuckling to himself, he tries to laugh off his obvious pain and attempts to regain his composure.

“No! I won’t let you erase my emotions!” You shouted, a wave of Hamon spreading through his arm as his pen touched your page, his attempt to rewrite your memory foiled.

The mangaka was sent flying back, his right arm dropping the pen and your face finally shutting closed, returning your ability to move. Although you were upset at the betrayal of trust you gave the man, you felt a twinge of guilt in your heart when you spotted his still form draped across the wood floor, cradling the arm you had burned with your Hamon.

Running to his side, all thoughts of malice left your body while you attempted to get a better look at his injury. His arm was still intact thankfully, but it was badly burned and needed to be set correctly and quickly if he ever wanted it to heal properly. You took a deep breath and turned Rohan over to see if he was still conscious.

“Oh god, Rohan I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened.” Your eyes fill with tears again as you see the artist weakly rest himself against the wall, still holding his arm close to his chest.

“No, no it’s alright. I brought this on myself. I accept that.” He grimaced, trying to take a peek at his injuries but too frightened to actually check.

“You read my thoughts and history, it wasn’t right but you didn’t physically hurt me. I don’t know how that happened, but I promise you I’ll fix it.” You swore to the manga writer, now searching through your backpack.

When you found your pair of scissors, you went into full first aid mode, removing the sleeve from his right arm by carefully cutting the loose cloth off. After tossing the short sleeve to the side, you cut the bottom of the skirt you were wearing off into a long bandage-like shape of clothing and ran it under the cold tap water from the kitchen sink, returning to the injured Rohan.

“I’m going to wrap your arm with this, it won’t be painful if you let me use my stand, but I’m going to ask you first before I use her on you.” The man nodded, accepting your offer to erase the pain.

“Under Pressure. She’s a stand that has the ability to manipulate emotions. She can change them within a radius or focus on only one individual. When she focuses on a single person, she is only able to change their emotion to the opposite of what is being felt.” You began to wrap his arm, nervous about what he might feel when you placed the wet fabric loosely around it.

All Rohan could do was bite back his lip to avoid making any embarrassing sounds. Instead of the immeasurable pain he imagined to come with dressing a freshly burned wound, he felt a wave of euphoria. He now understood what you meant by the “opposite” emotion would be felt.

The artist never knew wrapping his burned arm would feel so good, every touch caused his breath to hitch in his throat and his eyes to water. It confused him, even though he understood that the opposite of pain was pleasure, it still startled him every time you did one more pass of the homemade bandage.

He tried his hardest not to be flustered, but when you finished off his arm by tieing the last bit with a knot, he let a small whimper escape his lips. His hand shot up to cover his face, it’s hue now a bright crimson.

Your cheeks turned bright pink as well. You turned away swiftly, to avoid eye contact.

“U-Um just stay put. I’m gonna borrow your phone for a second and let you catch your breath.” Scratching the side of your cheek, you stand up and make a b-line for the phone, dialing your home and hoping that Josuke would pick up. You glanced at the clock set on the wall, it read 8:15.

I’m late.

As soon as the phone line rang once, you spotted the front door to Rohan’s manor fly across the main hall. Peeking your head out from the kitchen, you see a furious Josuke with Koichi in pursuit.

“ROHAN-SENSEI! WHERE IS MY SISTER YOU CREEP?! SHE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE HOME 15 MINUTES AGO!” He yells out, his voice echoing throughout the home.

“Josuke! I’m here! I was just about to call you. Listen, I messed up bad and hurt Rohan. He’s in the kitchen bandaged up but I need you to heal him all the way.” You run to Josuke, giving him a tight hug while trying not to cry from the stress of the situation.

Josuke squeezes you once and let’s you go, looking you over from head to toe so he could make sure you weren’t injured as well. When he spots your torn skirt, his aura radiates a dark malice you’d never seen him show before.

“Wait Josuke! I did this to myself, we didn’t have bandages so I cut some cloth.”

He looks you over again and sighs heavily, the purple hue that was full of rage, leaving him.

“Ok, fine. Where’s that jerk? I’ll fix him up real quick so we can go home.” He grumbled, following you into the kitchen.

Even though Rohan wanted to refuse any treatment from Josuke, he finally accepted the help when you threatened to cry on the spot. His arm had returned to its previous state, unburned and fully functional, thanks to Josuke and Shining Diamond.

Josuke picked up your backpack and held the now fixed front door open for you, while Rohan stood and waved goodbye. You awkwardly returned the wave and made your way back home, your thoughts chaotic and confused.

On the one hand you felt guilty for putting Rohan through such an immense amount of pain, but you were also upset at the humiliation he put you through by reading your life with Heaven’s Door. These thoughts plagued your mind as you laid your head to rest for the night.

~

It was roughly two in the afternoon when Rohan Kishibe knocked on your front door. A short but older woman answered, complaining about the loudness of the knocks when she looked over the artist.

“Oh, my apologies. You’re that Rohan Kishibe my kids talk about. How may I help you, Mr. Kishibe?” She asked with a warm tone to her voice, leaning against her door frame and smiling up at him.

“Is y/n in? I’d like to deliver this to her personally.” He spoke softly, shaking the box he held in his hands.

Your mother couldn’t help but chuckle to herself. He appeared to be anxious and uncomfortable, most likely it was his first time gifting something like this.

“She’s not home yet, but give her five minutes. Why don’t you come in? You can wait for her up in her room, just don’t go raiding her drawers or anything.” She joked, Rohan’s cheeks turning vivid scarlet.

“I’m only pulling your leg, sweety. I know you’re better than that. Now come on! Have a seat at her desk and I’ll bring you up some lemonade.” Rohan followed her inside.

When they reached your room, Mrs.Higashikata opened the door and waved her hand to your desk seat.

“Pull up that chair there and I’ll be back with some refreshments.” Her smile gleamed at him. She walked off to the kitchen, leaving the artist alone in your room.

Rohan browsed around your room, taking in the personality that was apparent by the many bits of decor that gave your little private space a peculiar style. Your walls held photos printed on Polaroid film, sketches presumably drawn by you, and posters of your favorite video games and shows.

When he glanced around your room, he was immediately caught off guard when he spotted two volumes of his very own manga, propped up and on display in your bookcase. To say he was flattered was an understatement, he was completely floored. You were a fan of his?

His heart was heavy all of a sudden, he felt a dreadful pain in his chest while he held the book in his hands. He turned his head toward the doorway when he heard your voice greet your mother. To regain himself, he quickly skimmed through the pages of the manga he was holding, hearing your distant conversation come to an end.

You entered the room. Dropping your bag at the corner of the closet, your eyes never leaving Rohan while you take a seat on your bed. The mangaka gently placed your copy of Pink Dark Boy back in its original position, turning around now to face you.

“I’d like to humbly apologize for my abhorrent behavior and actions yesterday. I was terrible. I know it might be asking too much of you, but I brought you this as a peace offering. I want us to start over. I’d like to get to know you the right way.” He passes you the box he was carrying with him, nudging you to open it.

Casually unknotting the bow and removing the lid from the bottom, you slowly lift what appears to be a white sundress out of the box. It was beautifully made and looked to be just your size.

“I know it’s not the skirt you tore, but I felt like you deserved something a little more unique.” He averts your gaze quickly when you attempt to gauge his reaction.

The mangaka appears to be flustered, apparently not very used to apologizing. His eyes held a fear of rejection but also a glimmer of hope. A breath you never knew you were holding was released with a quiet hum.

“It’s beautiful, thank you, but do know that buying me things isn’t going to repair my trust in you. We can at the very least start over though.”

Rohan smiled to himself, thankful for your empathetic nature, and nodded a quick yes.

“Now that the pleasantries are out of the way, how about we take that dress and enjoy some tea at the cafe? My treat.”