#while also refusing to accept he might be dead

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

New Purpose | Yandere Saja Boys x Reader

“You want me to do what?!”

The call from your awkward and friendly acquaintance in the idol-managing business leaves you in an unreadable ball of confusion. Typically when Bobby did call you it was to brag about his girls or about the latest resort he was gifted by the girls. But this time he needed your help and you weren’t sure if you were going to give it. 

“Please please (Y/n)! You taught me everything I know; if there’s anyone who can handle them it’s you.”

Bobby pleading on his knees doesn’t change your reluctance but the pleading gazes of the boy-band in question made you slow to voice it. It also was harder to refuse when you could see the shining blue shackles on each of their wrists. A marked hand slides onto your shoulder with a stealth you haven’t felt in a long time and instinctively you reach for the holster under your coat, locking eyes with the one you once deemed to be an enemy.

“It can only be you. Mx. (L/n).”

It’s the purple-haired idol who not only was rumored to have once endangered the Honmoon but mended it with strength that surpassed her ancestors. Here she was glowing with her shining demon marks in broad daylight. A part of you still found it wrong.

She took your blatant staring in stride; sending Bobby out of the room,”Mind giving us some space? I think it might land better y’know? Idol to idol?”

“Oh, sure thing Rumi! In fact, I’ll go get the celebratory ramyeun now!”

He dashed as if his life depended on it, leaving you and Rumi with the shackled demon idols. Looking warily at the hunter you slowly pulled your hand away from your holster. The fakely wide smile on her fades into something more concerning. Pressing her purple-painted lips together, it’s time to address the real elephant in the room. 

“Why are they still here?! I thought you killed them all when you made the Honmoon golden.”

She nervously smiles, “I–thought I did too. But it seems that they were sealed in the upper world instead. The only one who….didn’t make it was thanks to Gwi-Ma.” She steps away from you, putting her hand out as if to pet the “baby Saja boy.” Previously he looked as though he was dead; standing with a face that epitomized boredom. That all changed when Rumi came close. His eyes glowed that sinister yellow and his fangs were bared as he chomped at the air her hand used to be. The blue chains clink with golden chains that shine in a ripple like the Honmoon itself. 

“You must mean the leader. Jin.”

You were playing with fire. For all the shipping edits that the idol leaders were put through, anyone could’ve guessed that they were close. While you don’t have eyes and ears close to her domain, it still got back to you just how close she’d gotten with him. During Huntrix's report of the event, Jin’s returned soul was what gave the trio the power to completely exorcise Gwi-Ma. A feat that was impossible even for the first hunters to exist.

“Yes…Jin,” she spoke his name with a heavy resonance. A respect that hadn’t dulled at all because it still felt raw.

”He saved me by showing me how to accept this part of myself rather than hide.”

She held her hands in front of her playing with the light against her marks, “Still he’s showing me there’s more to this side of myself I never really understood before.”

You watched her close her hands into fists and turn to you with a fierceness in those brown eyes you’ve never seen in person,” Which is why I think we should try helping them before we kill them.”

Stopping your laughter you finally spoke, “We?”

“We. Huntrix can’t do this on our own. You’ve been handling the otherside of the hemisphere well and now that both sides are sealed all that’s left is to care for the demons that slipped through.”

“Then why not just kill them?” The one with abs tries to jab at her which she skillfully dodges,” They clearly aren’t fond of you.”

Pausing she looks at them and then at you. 

“I have to try…if Jin saw something worth using maybe…maybe there's more to them that I haven’t seen yet. That no one’s seen. I’m hoping you can do that.”

“I’m retired. I don’t think I can do much of anything now.”

Rumi gives you a look. That glare of determination that makes you feel exposed.

“I’ve heard you before. You can do this.”

You turn, prepared to refuse but she grabs your hands.

“Please (Y/n).To protect our reign of peace….please.”

______________________________________________________________

“Alright, Saja boys. Listen up you live and breathe to be the idol group I demand you be, you hear me?!” 

The collective groans of the demon boy band, the sound makes you smirk. In an instant, you begin to hum an old song you used to sing unsheathing your whip from its holster. Romance is the one who perks up, the only one who seems to catch on that you are about to obliterate them.

“AcK!”

“OW that burns!”

“Please don’t!”

“Okay okay, we’re all listening p-please contine.”

It’s over in seconds. Everything but their faces is covered in disgusting blue welts. 

“As I was saying. I expect my perfect idol boy band to be smiley, friendly, and to say 'yes (Y/n)' whenever I ask you questions. Is that clear?”

“Yes (Y/n)!”

“That’s good now have a good show just like we practiced!”

It’s been interesting taking on the Saja boys. Their image that had Jin be their cool and calm collected leader was very much the truth. Without you breathing down their necks you found they were quite awful to all around them.

“Abby did you or did you not hit that PA with a button of yours, on purpose?”

“I mean they were looking too hard anyway it’s not my fault.”

“It is your fault that they went to the hospital thanks to your stupid little stunt.”

“It’s whatever they got a souvenir they’ll never forget!”

CRACK!

“Not the whip please, I’ll make a public apology! Sorry!”

You’ve dealt with idols that had a kamidere complex or outright narcissism but you haven’t dealt with literal demons who barely grasped that humanity was anything more than a population of overgrown bugs. 

“Alright, Bae Bee what’s going to be the right response if someone asks how you feel about the subject of turtles?”

“Goo Goo Gaga?”

“No. Try using real words please.”

“It’s…whatever?”

“I did that whole slide show and you didn’t gather anything from that?!”

“....”

FWHIP!

“Their…mid?!”

CRACK!

“Wahhh!”

But you wouldn’t continue with this farce if you didn’t realize there was a learning curve to be had. The first time it dawned on you was when Romance came to you in the dead of night, clutching the book you’d gifted them your second day: How to be a Human for Dummies. You were lounging on the large couch watching your shows when he walked in. He stood awkwardly by the door like a child who’d come to woefully inform his parents he’d wet the bed. You pretended not to know he was there; gauging if he’d actually ask for help like you offered.

“Why should we try?”

You muted the TV. Giving the pink-haired demon your full attention, you turned as he stood at the opposite end of the couch.

“Because you’ll die if you don’t.”

His nails dug into the paper cover,” no I mean why do we have to…I’ve already tried doing that before. I don’t want to go through that again.”

His marks flashed and you couldn’t see his face clearly; his hair making a curtain you so desperately wanted to peek past. 

Sighing you stood, “Follow me.”

Doing as he was told he followed you over rooftops, skillfully swinging through the concrete jungle to end it bumping into your back. He opened his mouth to insult you, to whine about how you couldn’t just answer the question to following your gaze. Down below in a window that flashed with all matter of colors, was a girl surrounded by friends singing terribly into the microphone as they cheered her on.

“You see her” The girl with the red bow in her hair?”

“...yeah.”

“She used to wonder that too. She used to walk home every day from school to her room. Locking herself away because she once listened to the same voices you do. Frankly, if she had continued listening she would have ended up just like you.”

“Then why isn’t she…like me that is?”

“Because she kept trying. Worked hard to find those she could care about; though it was hard she found them. Only because she tried.”

“So what?! I try and everything will be fixed?”

“I didn’t say that but no matter what you’ve done. Trying to make amends. Trying to be better is what makes it, you, worth it in the end.”

“Even if it took 300 years?”

“Even if it took 300 years.”

They certainly had their moments and that was enough to not exorcise them when their third month existing in the idol world rolled around. Much to your displeasure, you had no choice but to inform Rumi you’d continue to manage the Saja boys. If only to help them reconcile with themselves. To instead use their talent and influence to strengthen the Honmoon and continue to keep the positive energy that the fans permeated alive and well. 

If you worked hard, you could save the remaining Saja boys.

____________________________________________________________

“I hate this.”

Mystery was the first to voice this opinion. Finally left alone and unsupervised the Saja Boys were able to speak without the threat of being whipped, stabbed, or otherwise ground into a pulp on the shining golden Honmoon. Backstage just before another performance.

“Yeah, this just such a bummer. It was more fun when we worked for Gwi Ma!” Abs spoke leaning against the walls of the hidden stage. 

“Was it actually fun or were we just happy not to be reminded of who we are?” 

Romance turned still maintaining the front position of the band just as they’d been instructed, looking into the golden eyes of his fellow demons. Looking for the same confusion he’d been saddled with since they started this.

“I don’t really care, I just don’t like feeling…like this.” 

“Like what, Myst?! What exactly do you feel?” 

Abandoning his position, he closed in. Holding the quiet demon by the neck and slamming him into the wall. The infrastructure of the stage shook and dented but Romance was careful. He wasn’t certain why he cared so much to know his answer. He’d been asking the same thing of himself for all this time.

Mystery pursed his quivering lips. Romance growled and threw the demon to the ground, rolling into Abs’ feet. The muscular demon deflated when Romance turned to him expecting an answer, his eyes darting around as if the moving walls would have it scrawled somewhere. 

The lack of response only made the pink-haired demon angrier. Fangs beared and marks on full display he charged narrowly scratching at Abs’ face. Mystery got up to intervene, fully prepared to bite the neck of the completely wild Romance. Until his voice broke the silence.

“Purposeless. That is what we are feeling.”

His real voice was much deeper than his human one which is why when the late Jin led the group he was specially instructed to keep it hidden. But they had no leader. They have no Gwi-Ma. All they have in this hidden stage is each other. 

Romance retracts his claws, the marks still glowing bright, and he pulls at his locks.

“He’s right. W-we have nothing anymore! All we have is ourselves and that’s worse than nothing. W-w-we can’t even go back!”

His shaky declaration makes everyone unsettled. Placing a name to their fear—to their reality made it far too true. Their marks all begin to glow with an anxious throbbing. Mystery retreats into himself huddling into the corner. Abs freezes, willing his body to move and failing miserably. Even Baby lets the cap he’s wearing cover his face as he slowly slides to the floor.

“What’s the use of trying to change if I don’t even know why I’m here?! You’ve seen these humans!? They don’t know so what am I supposed to do?!”

The Honmoon throbs at his cry. 

“How can I try when I don’t want to face who I am?!”

Demon marks flaring in tandem with the flickering gold.

“What good can come from someone as far gone as I?!”

The Honmoon dangerously touches the color pink. 

“What am I supposed to do with myself!? Without any voice what am I supposed to do!?”

Multiple tears of the barrier are forming and joining at the seams around each of the separate Saja boys. Each one is influenced by their pain and about to damage the sanctity of the Honmoon.

~kzzt~

Like a heaven-sent. The comms in their ears buzzed to life.

~kzz~He~kzztz~

The pink fades and the healing blue returns to the barrier.

~kz~Hey can you guys hear me in this thing? It’s me (Y/n).kzztz~

It’s your voice. Their guardian. Their manager.

“As expected these walkies are crap. Anyway, I expect you boys to give me your best because I know you can do it. Can you do that for me Saja?”

The voice in their ears answered the only remaining questions.

“Yes, (Y/n).” “Yes, (Y/n).” “Yes, (Y/n).” “Yes, (Y/n).”

“That’s what I like to hear. Now wow that crowd and no soul stealing.”

The silence of the stage was lighter. More defined. The long turned-off comms burned into their ears. All of them replaying the echo of their manager’s voice—soothing, uplifting, commanding.

“It is them. That will be our purpose.”

Baby’s voice spoken with clarity confirmed what they all decided. As the stage begins to rise and the cheers of their fans increase even more. The Saja Boys are in position, prepared to perform just as their manager demands it. 

______________________________________________________________

“So how’s it gone, managing them?”

All of Huntrix was over for the day, enjoying some bubble tea as they looked at the golden-covered city. The barrier glowed strong with a healthy pulse fully powered by their fans.

You were glad that you’d convinced the boys to attend their shoot solo. Otherwise, you would’ve risked having this conversation with them around. Which wouldn’t have been a good idea considering how close they’ve gotten.

“It’s going great. They haven’t had another incident since I last called.”

The girls shared a look. 

Mira sneered at the promotional material for the group scattered on the table, picking it up like it was dirty laundry. 

“By great do you mean, like the Honmoons not broken great or that there's an uptick in murders in the last month—all where you guys were going on tour–great?”

Zoey chuckled anxiously, “We don’t want to accuse but the numbers don’t look great.”

Shooting a look at Rumi, you settled in your chair. Looking out at the city below carefully putting pressure on the plastic cup in your hands.

“Look I wish I could definitively say it’s just a coincidence but I looked into those cases myself and most of them seem airtight. But I’m not entirely sure there wasn’t some demonic influence.” Zoey and Mira shared a look before turning back to you with a grimace.

“I’m saying there’s just no way to tell for sure if it was them and without evidence I can't exactly ‘convict’ anyone.”

“So you're saying there’s no way not one of those boys slipped through your grasp?”

“Yeah (Y/n)...we know you’re technically retired and there’s five demons and one of you…it can’t be easy.”

Rumi finally looked ready to speak and you had a feeling you weren’t going to like it. 

“We were thinking maybe you should take a break!” She didn’t look entirely convinced, looking between Mira and Zoey. “We’re going on a break for a little while so maybe we can look after them for you.”

“I’d love that,” you studied their faces for some kind of joke,” but I don’t know if you can handle the boys any more than I could.”

The girls confidently laughed.

“Are you kidding?”

“We nearly killed them the last time we met!”

“Yes, Huntrix has got this in the bag!”

The girls cheered with pride as they whooped and hollered at one another. You admired their spunk, something you felt came far too less now that you’ve outgrown the group you used to hunt with. 

“Alright then girls, I’ll take you up on your offer–”

“Yes!” “The-Best-B-ab-y Sitters in the wooorldd!” “Yeah, this is going to be a piece of cake!”

“---a word of caution girls.”

Your words had them stopping in their tracks, their triumphant smiles only softening to acknowledge you. The only one it completely faded from was Rumi, who almost looked afraid to see you step on the elevator.

“The Saja Boys are a lot more determined than you’d think. Try not to be an obstacle for them.”

With that, the metal doors slid closed, and for once in a long time you were alone. Now came the hard part—telling them. 

______________________________________________________________

“You have got to be kidding me!?”

It was Bae Bee taking his usual spot at your back, his fanged sneer hissing into the side of your head he was previously nuzzling against. His nails had gotten longer penetrating the T-shirt you were wearing, a single flick to his wrist had him retract his claws but not loosen his grip.

Speaking of claws you could feel the demon on your lap allowing his to emerge and grip at your jeans all the tighter. The practiced action of oncoming tears soaking through the denim told you, Mystery was having a similar reaction. Across the room were Romance and Abby both dressed in their custom robes were drying with their respective blow dryers after using the dressing room’s shower. Both appliances were crushed and melted onto the floor within seconds of your announcement. The demons-responsible, flashing their marks and fangs at you. Romance immediately straightens up, adjusting his hair and robe before glaring down at you.

“I thought we had a deal.”

“YEAH A PROMISE! WE’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BREAK THOSE.”

Abby was worse for wear marks and teeth on full display; you mentally noted to pay the venue for the damage he’d cause. Already a partition was torn through, a wall successfully punched into, and a microwave was effectively torn apart. If you didn’t ease his worries the staff would be next.

“I’m not leaving you guys. The deal was that if you all made an effort to change, I’d never leave.”

“Which is what you’re trying to do,” Mystery muffled protests had everyone nodding.

Romance stepped forward again, arms crossed and amber eyes glowing deviously down at you. 

“Then that would mean our deal is off!”

“No, it’s not! We never said anything about time off or leaving and coming back.”

“Didn’t have to,” Bae whispers into your ear with a smirk on his face, ” You are the one who agreed.”

It’s then you feel the need to reach for your whip, reaching for your beloved weapon underneath your coat. Searching for your saving grace next to your waist you only to find its empty holster. Looking over to Abby who’s suddenly stopped his violent tirade to pull at the much sought after weapon. 

“Then if you go that means we don’t have to abide by the rules anymore.” He looks at you like a puppy, one who’s done something awful and hopes you understand. The boisterous Abby was no longer there, a serious look on his face. 

You want to soothe him. To deny it. But the truth of the matter was just that, you had to leave and at this point,t it wouldn’t do you any good to demand they accept otherwise. Your whip across the room, your body held in place by a smirking demon, your legs held down by another, and your attention on the one you were sure had made the most progress. 

“We have changed if it helps. We’ve upheld our end of the deal. For you to go against us now…well we’ll just try to preserve our purpose.”

By now you were in no place to make demands.

“So go enjoy your…trip. We’ll be waiting and by then we’ll have changed some more just as you commanded.”

No trip to the Maldives would erase those words from your head.

______________________________________________________________

When you return from any kind of holiday there’s a moment of great depression. A crushing sense of reality from the joy you experienced comes in full force as you unpack and reenter your tiresome schedule. In your case it was no different, for two whole weeks you could ignore the haunting reactions of the demons you guarded to lounge with a poolside cocktail in hand. Of course, your return would be tumultuous. 

In the darkness of the condo you’d begun to call home, was Rumi. Sat crossed-legged in the mess of sliced furniture, just as worse for wear as the decor around her. You called to her, almost unsure it was she until she looked up. Her eyes were swollen, her marks an ugly black and the typically brown and golden eyes were red. 

“I…didn’t think anything would change,” she finally spoke carelessly musing as you tried to nurse her wounds, “that I would still be strong enough to beat them…I just wasn’t ready for them to…change like I did.”

You want to question her. To ask what she meant but the four pairs of golden eyes smiling back at you explained more than anything she could have said.

“A deal’s a deal.”

Out of the darkness limp bodies clattered to the floor. Battered and bruised it was Zoey and Mira. Unconscious and scarily still you watched Rumi struggle to carry them both, limping to the elevator. She spared you a single glance; eyes filled with too many apologies to ever speak.

“I…can’t be an obstacle to you anymore. Goodbye (Y/n).”

With the broken jingle of the elevator, you were left with your boys once again. Gripping the handle of your whip, you wait for them to reveal themselves to you…fully. Without a word, they emerge in their original forms circling around you with smiles on their marked and purple faces.

“So what are we doing now that I’ve returned?”

Their distorted chuckles don’t settle your unease.

“You said you changed do you plan to show me?”

“Of course, (Y/n).” Abby’s voice was the loudest and when you turned prepared to strike, your arm was held in place by the demon. 

“Whatever you demand of us.”

You dropped the whip catching it with your opposite hand, rearing to strike again only for your other hand to be caught and pried open. Your whip forcefully fell into the hands of Bae who smiles cruelly as he snaps your beautiful weapon in half with a ripple of magenta smoke. Of course, you struggle but the hands holding you in place are firm, warping your struggles so that you fall to your knees. Your chin is being held so gently by the new lead of the Saja Boys.

“We are always at your command, (Y/n). Because you are our purpose.”

You open your mouth to speak, to finally give a proper command since they demand it of you. Only for your lips to be covered in Dutch tape, which is played with as Romance comes even closer. The dark blue blush on his face shows just how much he relishes the glare you have for him.

“Since you broke your deal with us, we are free to change. To finally be free to serve our purpose however we see fit.”

It’s then you feel something monstrous intertwine itself with the barrier of the Honmoon pink and orange demon hands replacing the idol demons’ hands. Allowing them to look down on you as well all of them casually caressing your sealed lips.

“You right (Y/n), we have changed.”

There were hands in your hair.

“We’ve grown stronger and it’s all because you gave us a chance. Because you taught us to care.”

There were hands on your back.

“Encouraged us to try.”

Somehow they were in your brain.

“Even if it takes 300 years.”

You sleep in the arms of the Saja Boys—Your boys because you’re all they work for. All they try for. All they’d think to change for. 

You are their purpose and they’ll do anything you they demand.

Totally forgot some of these guys died on screen Whoopsie!

Kofi → Here Masterlist → Here Commissions → Here

🖤🖤🖤🖤

[anomura]

just thinking about bucky mourning gale while sitting on his seat

[kingdomaddiction]

I've been thinking in a Cumplane friendship idea.--

You see, everyone seems to believe SQQ and SQH can't stand each other. Quite the opposite, really. When it's only the two of them they don't feel the need to keep up the pretence. It's so easy to relax, to put the mask aside.

They aren't peak lords nor cultivators. They're just two dudes in their mid tweenties trying to survive in this forsaken world.

SY knows he might not be the kindest nor the most loving of friends, (he spent so many years alone in a cold, hospital room, he's not good at socializing) but he does care for Airplane. A lot. He will never say it out loud because it's embarrasing but that stupid author is his best friend.

So, that's why when the news of Qinghua's disappearance finally reach him (two weeks, it took two full weeks before someone decided to tell him--- )they absolutely destroys him.

He seems calm at fisrt. Not truly procesing the news. LBG makes a few comments about something Mobei told him (you fucking knew and didn't tell me, how dare you, husband?! )

Gone, SQH? No, that's dumb. He couldn't be gone. He's a peak lord, he has responsabilities, a bunch of little ones to teach. He even takes care of the north. And most importantly why would he leave Mobei? It makes no sense, not fucking sense.

SQH wouldn't leave like that. He... he wouldn't leave SY behind.

He can feel sob building up in his throat. That... stupid, idiot--HACK AUTHOR!

His crying fit is so strong and sudden that sends LBG and his whole demon staff into a panic.

"Shizun?!" He says looking for visible injuries-

"Don't touch me!" He screams and LBG looks at him with hurt.

"Husband? Have... have this disciple done something wrong?"

SQQ just turns and walks to his chambers ordering LBG not to follow him. His husband is left feeling distressed and cries for very different reasons.

Later that night they talk. SQQ feeling tired and sad finally calls for his husband to comfort him. He explains to him why he is angry at him and LBG apologizes.

"This one thought you hated Shang-shibo and that Shizun wouldn't care about his dissapereance." He says in a small, careful voice. "Mobei jun came to the palace days ago to beg for help in his search... "

"You turned him away... " SY says, sounding very tired.

"Yes. But this husband will make it right, Shizun. I will find your friend for you, promise."

SY sighs and hugs his husband, hiding his face in his chest.

..

Idk 'm all over the place but the idea is that the system is glitching and took SQH and is kind of keeping him hostage? Like, in between worlds. Not the mordern universe, not PIDW.

I imagine LBG having a very hard time accepting his shizun worries and loves others and not just him (??? why??? I'm more than enough you need NO ONE else shizun). He's too possesive and would like very much just to lock his shizun away, but that would break him and he never wants to see him cry like that ever again. Even if that means he has to share his attention.

MBJ is very broken in this one fiding himself lost without SQH. they had just finally stablished their relationship so he's between angry and scared. Also his trust and loyalty to LBG has taken a blown since he refused to help him find his lover. Didn't he help LBG when everyone turned his back on him as he clinged to his dead shizun's body?

While they work together (before they can even figure out where sqh is) LBG slowly realizes he might have fucked up a bit and ??? misses Mobei ??? are they friends???!!

SY tries his fucking best to keep it together. Really, he loves Binghe but that man can be so dense.

They find where SQH is being kept. The place is like a limbo. Cold, and vast where no time passes. In order to get him back LBG, MBJ and SQQ work together to reforge Xin Mo and travel there. There's a cool fighting montage, tears, hugs and everyone is happy at the end

Yeah that's all i got so far. I'll be going back to work now--

[whichcouldmeannothing]

big big marvey fic rec list

marvey is currently my most bookmarked ship, so trust me when i say i've been around the bend for marvey content. i have dug through a lot of it the past few months, so trust that these fics have been highly rated!

fics are loosely grouped, with the summary and my thoughts under the cut :3 no spoilers ofc bc i love you

MY PERSONAL FAVOURITES

A Specter-Ross Affair by @frivoloussuits (15k+, au)

“You ordered an ‘extra-hot, extra-wet cappuccino, single-origin, properly layered, to-go and ready five minutes ago to make up for your service speed or lack thereof.’” In which Mike is a barista, Rachel is a lawyer, and Harvey is paid excessive amounts of money to plan their joyous Christmas wedding.

"Love is just a particularly socially accepted form of fraud. It's a series of increasingly complex and fragile deceptions between two or more people, and, more alarmingly, between each participant and their own deluded subconscious."

i literally cannot recommend this fic enough. this might be my favourite read of the entire year, dead serious. this sounds fluffy but trust me, the pining and the angst go well like salt on a chocolate chip cookie: extremely decadent. everything about this fic goes insane and this should be your gateway drug into marvey, im so serious about this. READ IT. (weddingplanner!harvey)

of all the gin joints by @frivoloussuits (10k+, au)

Hanging around a neighborhood bar one night, Harvey befriends a guy named Mike after realizing they can both quote The Princess Bride on demand. In the law offices of Rand, Kaldor, Zane and Pearson, senior partner Harvey Specter takes on an unusual case, representing his managing partner's daughter as she divorces a Michael James Ross. Harvey sees no connection until it's far too late.

"They’re playing a virtuosic duet with inhuman ease, as if the intoxication has broken their boundaries and blurred them into a single entity."

this. obsessed with fics that really use the law in their plots, and this is a prime example. a lot of chemistry in this one that is described in a way that makes you jealous of the bond they share and there are still lines in this fic that i think about almost everyday but honestly, such a top-tier read. PLEASE PLEASE IF YOU LIKE SUFFERING ANF REALLY REALLY GOOD CHEMISTRY PLEASE

5U175 by Closer (26k, canon-adjacent)

Harvey sometimes moonlights as a Star Trek BNF. Mike might have an attitude problem on the internet. TiberiusGhost is strangely compelling, for a recluse who never goes to meetups, and Harvey's finding this kid Photohead vaguely familiar…

i know that the terminology in this one is hella old-school but trust me. as someone who doesnt read a lot of fandom fics, this fic has changed it all for me (also bc the author replied to my comment hehehe) stick with this fic because the way fandom weaves with the character development is absolutely delicious, i remember saying this in my og comment but this fic was written with love for fandom and you should definitely read it too!!! you'd absolutely love it! (also ben stans rise up ^^)

fics to sink your teeth into (20k+)

needs must by @melthemagpie (98k+, au)

When Grammy needs an upgrade in care, Mike knows that the usual one-off gig as a paid submissive won't be enough. He takes a job he's been refusing for a while - a long-term, full-time contract. He expects his client to be a sadistic asshole. He expects not to like it. He's wrong on both counts.

this is a fandom classic, every fic rec has this on the list (cw for dom/sub and prostitution, so if you're uncomfy please dont read) but i swear there are so many romantic moments in this one that make me swoon and the smut is very good, i usually tap out in long fics really quickly but this hooked me the whole way through twice. thats my ringing endorsement, READ THIS

Lobster and Other Catastrophes by @andthetardis (21k, canon-compliant)

After months of silence, Mike starts texting Harvey again out of the blue. Funny thing to do on his honeymoon, really.

BRO PLEASE. this was so good. angsty and pining-y enough even though it's mostly a text fic. text fics to me are more like comedic, but this one had substance and heart (and funny and enjoyable btw). pulls you in and really makes you want to stick it out and get to the beautiful ending <333 (harvey being soft is probably a category on its own :3)

The Game by @frivoloussuits (27k, hunger games au)

Harvey Specter and Donna Paulsen are efficient and elegant killers. They have trained since childhood, mentored personally by Jessica Pearson and marked for years as District 1's Tributes for the Hunger Games. Mike Ross is an orphan from District 12, a drug dealer, and an underage gambler. After years of scrutinizing the Hunger Games on TV to make savvy bets, he finds himself on the wrong side of the camera, now playing the odds just to survive. Harvey and Mike cannot, should not trust each other. Still, they strike a backroom deal.

"Because he’s clever and quick-thinking and he’s learned her main lesson well– don’t love anyone you wouldn’t be willing to see dead. Ideally, don’t love anyone at all."

I READ THIS WHEN I WAS REVISITING HUNGER GAMES AND OHHHHH THIS HAS THE ANGST. absolutely riveting. ths is the third fic im reccing from them bc i love frivoloussuits. i would die for them HHFSHFHKSDGDHFG i love the angst and the life-threatening situations that the hunger games provide and harvey as a career is correct. its just correct. everything here grips my soul

Disaster Stories by agatestones (22k, canon-compliant)

"Hold on," Mike asked, "you made Donna come into work in the middle of a blizzard?" "I don't make Donna do anything. Haven't you learned by now?" Harvey gave Mike a mean little smile, but under that was relief for anyone to see. "You, I can make come into the office in a blizzard."

reads like a novella to me, and it's really good!!! very episodic and you really feel like these are things that have happened in universe. its very slice of lifey and i reread it a lot as a comfort read, its like a big hug to me

Pizza and a Movie by Closer (30k+, au)

In an alternate universe, Harvey's still a lawyer but Mike's not a pot runner -- he's a deliveryman for Rollo's Pizza and Ribs, which happens to be Harvey's favorite pizza place. Once Harvey finds out his pizza guy is a genius, Mike's life takes a few turns he would not have expected...

i swear this is the most rom-commy fic marvey has to offer. i like aus that slap me in the face more with the alternate universe, but this is such a rom-com plot. fandom classic as well and it really reads like a hugh grant 90s movie and if thats not enough to pull you in idk what will tbh

Imprimatur by Closer (22k, au)

Mike was raised to believe Imprint was a life-changing event for those few lucky enough to experience it. Harvey was raised to believe it was a form of mental illness. When it actually happened, neither of them noticed.

this goes absolutely crazy. one of those fics where you read it and you almost want to throw your phone at the wall because the characters could make it so easy if they werent so stupid (but in a good way of course) but the way it was written, you feel the depth of the soulmate bond and why its so important (which a lot of soulmate aus forget to do loll) but goes down like an expensive and delicious dinner :)

afternoon reads (10k+)

Sony SRF-39FP by @frivoloussuits (11k+, canon-adjacent)

Anita Gibbs won’t settle for Mike, not when there are name partners within her reach. She offers only one deal– two years, no other charges against anyone else in the firm, as long as Harvey Specter turns himself in. And even as Donna and Jessica and Louis and Mike beg him not to, he jumps on the grenade. “Time to get busy living or get busy dying,” he remarks, and Mike gives a small chuckle. Then Harvey smirks, straightens his suit jacket, and strides into FCI Danbury.

“I can’t believe they’re trying to lock you in a box and forget about you,” Mike sighs as he leaves.

“Well, as long as you don’t forget me, I figure I’ll survive.”

“Maybe you haven’t noticed, but forgetting’s never been my strong suit.

cw for depersonalization and desc of solitary confinement, very very heavy but the way mike is there throughout everything makes my heart twinge. i really dont know how to describe this fic at all but its really good. it makes me cry a lot. also made me start listening to jazz which- uh

Here at the end of all things by @tattooedsiren (10k, au)

When he arrives at the Pearson Hardman building the lights are dimmed and the floor is deserted. His feet carry him to Harvey's office even though he expects it to be empty. Because Harvey probably fled the city via helicopter or teleporter or sheer force of will. But when he approaches the office he can see that Harvey is there. He has moved the couch so that it now faces the floor to ceiling windows and Mike silently sits beside Harvey, joins him in looking down at the chaos engulfing the city below. [Apocalypse AU]

I LOVE APOCALYPSE FICS UP UP UP badass!harvey makes me bark, but im a really big fan of people who find happiness in the worst circumstances and this fic does it so so so well. reminds me a lot of tlou episode like 2? the one with the strawberries. please this is what i revisit when i miss marvey and i dont have a lot of time because the world and the characters are jsut so delicious!!!

quick reads (1k+)

This Love is Silent by kim47 (8k, canon-compliant)

She should have known. She had known, that something was off, at least. She knew he was hiding something. She just never imagined it could be this. Despite Harvey's warnings, Mike tells Rachel the truth about everything. She's shocked, naturally, and more than a little angry, but she agrees to keep his secret, and even to date him. So when they break up, Harvey goes into damage-control mode.

RACHEL!! HELLO RACHEL!! im always up for smart and discerning rachel (this shows up in of all the gin joints too btw!!!) this runs realistic to me because it shows that rachelxmike arent some hopelessly wrong for each other couple, they have good and bad times. this feels more real to me than other fics bc its not like the world conspires for marvey to be apart, its just life. i know this makes it sound so sad, and it is, but trust me: this is really really really good i love this so much

an archive of harvey specter's expressions by @frivoloussuits (2k, canon-compliant)

Five old expressions that Mike rediscovers in new contexts once he and Harvey are (finally) together, and one that he sees for the first time. Alternatively titled “An Ode to Gabriel Macht’s Face.”

this was written for me. this is literally me. writing fic because gabriel macht is too pretty, like this fic is literally for me. a lot of peering at him to get this fic as masterfully written as it is, and i thank you author everyday for it. to me, this reads like it's been written with love and care and true adoration (Truly, like Mike)

Coffee-Cart Client Privilege by @frivoloussuits (7k, au)

Mike runs a coffee cart. The coffee cart.

"Why not? They're too big and dense to be a snack." So are you, Mike thinks, and yet.

IM SORRY I KEEP RECCING FRIVOLOUS SUITS THEYRE MY FAVOURITE WRITER IN THIS FANDOM HFBKABFDKHFBHKDSA this has the hand-wavy logic the show has itself but mike's internal monologue in this one is one of the best ive ever read and the way mike's integrated in the offices is just so well-done ahhhh

Objection by yeah its frivoloussuits again i feel bad tagging them like 7 times (2k, canon-adjacent)

When Mike announces he’s leaving, Harvey plans to hide the jagged pieces of his broken heart deep inside, where no one will ever find them. His heart would like to object.

BIGG fan of physical hurt/comfort!!!! also big fan of people absolutely freaking out in the hospital in fics, it makes me bounce of the wall!! very short but the angst and love really hits you quick and leaves you on the floor gasping for air. very good (also cant prove this but im very sure this is a scrubs reference.t hanks)

Excerpts From The Gospel of Harvey Specter, edited by Michael "Forever Awesome" Ross, 2011, 1st Ed, by @rcmclachlan (7k, canon compliant)

Mike can totally read people. Well, most people. Some people. Or maybe just Harvey, who's pretty much an open book.

this one's really funny! it doesent follow direct prose and instead plays a lot with the setting its in (where mike's a documenter of harvey) and its just so funny and adorable. has a lot of heart too, it isn't just crack or anything but you really feel everything mike does as he writes all this, read this!!1

One More Sleepless Night by @sal_si_puedes (9k, au)

Soul Bonds are one-sided – there’s usually mutual affection, but only one party feels the crippling need to be together as often as possible. If separated at length from their love, that party becomes crushed by longing, panic, and sheer hopelessness, and so it is illegal to forcibly keep Soulmates apart. Some days, Harvey Specter hates the Bond that skews his judgement and weakens his resolve, and he fears what would happen if anyone in his world ever discovers he is so compromised. He certainly never planned to disclose the Bond for the first time in the middle of Anita Gibbs’ office, in a last-ditch attempt to invalidate the deal sending Mike to prison.

HSDGFHSDKGHRLKGHK THIS FIC. i love fics that use more than just prose to tell their stories (see above fic) and this does my favourite thing that soulmate aus do, which is where they integrate in-universe explanations for the phenomenon. the amount of work and dedication put into this fic makes it absolutely sing and was absolutely lovely!!

also pspspsps

golden like the daffodils by @mini-mart (2k, canon-compliant)

Poetry holds meaning, for anyone who reads it. It obscures and dances around the literal and metaphorical, because it’s imbued with so much of something that it overflows out of any definition. It can make someone mad, or lovesick, or aroused, and the reactions would be absolutely warranted. Mike is poetry, to Harvey. - Harvey Specter could be a good politician, as he believes in pragmatism over poetry. He won't let his progress fall apart, won't let someone knock it down. And then someone unceremoniously cracks open a suitcase at his feet. Or: Harvey, pretty boys and poetry.

yeah yeah i wrote this yeah yeah self promo smth smth

there's a lot more that isn't here but i'll probably write a new one when i go for a deep dive through the ship tags again :3

^^ ao3 etiqutte applies! if you like the fic, kudos and comment and bookmark!! show your love! happy reading marveys! my gift to u :3

[dragonzfanfics11]

Could you do sbg x s/o how they would react if they Accidentally hurt s/o really bad like it leaves a big scar

hiii!!! Thx for the request and dw I seen your other thing about s/o being really forgiving :3

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

《Ashlen》

Shed be horrifid if she accidentally hurt you

Probably gets flashbacks of aiden and tyler dying and immediately blames herself for it

She gets a little hesitant to go near you for a moment before quickly checking your wound

Shed probably be dead silent as she trys to stop the bleeding/help you up with shaky hands

Immediately brings you to ben to get you patched up and might not stay right next to you but she'll be nearby

Probably barly says anything to anyone for a long time

Is honestly suprised when you forgive her so quickly

She dosent really think she deserves your forgiveness so quickly and trys her best to stay composed and not break down then and there

Even when she does except your forgiveness she'll probably still blame herself for a very long time afterwards

Give her a hug :<

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

:)Aiden(:

smile immediately gone from his face

First one at your side trying to stop the bleeding/help you

He trys to keep on a smile but it's obvious he's upset and full of guilt

Brings you to ben right away and refuses to leave your side

Apologies almost every time you wince or hiss in pain

After bbenfinishes patching you up he pulls you into a hesitant hug, being extra careful of your wound

He's probably a little distant afterwords

Dosent talk as much and alot less jokes

It's not hard to see that his smile is more forced then his usual smile

Barly registers when you tell him you forgive him for a bit

Takes him a while to accept your forgiveness :<

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

♧Ben♧

Completely freezes and stares at you in horror

You or aiden have to snap him back to reality before he hesitantly goes over to you

Bandaging you up with very shaky hands

Dosent make eye contact with you almost the whole time

Hus thoughts probably spiral and he starts blaming himself and gets memory's of his past, stuff like that

Is scared to hurt you again so he distances himself a bit

He's relived when you say you forgive him but he still is terrified of hurting you again

Trys to make it up to you with reassuring words and lots of apologies (all written or in sign language obvi)

Gives you very gentle hugs when he sees your in pain :<

Keeps a few pain relievers with him js in case you need them

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

♤Tyler♤

Immediately at your side

Isn't the best at showing he cares/is worried

Curses at himself for hurting you and quickly trys to stop the bleeding

trys to keep a brave face and stay in control but he's really pissed at himself for accidently hurting you

stays by your side as ben patches you up and trys to calm you down while your in pain

The guilt eats at him so bad :,<

Wasnt expecting you to forgive him so quickly and is honestly relieved but also dosent want to accept it

Dosent think he deserves forgiveness so quickly

Dosent let you out of his sight while your still wounded

Checks on your wellbeing constantly

Also started carring pain relievers with him for when your in pain

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

♡Taylor♡

Feels sososososo bad about hurting you

Probably crys a bit in panic as she trys to stop the bleeding/help you

Stays right by your side the whole time while trying to stay composed and not cry

Apologies like a million times

Holds your hand as ben patches you up

Is relieved to hear that you forgive her and Probably expects it quicker then most of the group

The guilt still eats at her though

Starts being extra careful around you with her actions

Probably hugs you constantly when she sees you in pain or js feels like you need one :<

Also asks Ben for some pain relievers if she thinks you need one

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

☆Logan☆

Immediately starts crying and apologizing to you

His hands and body are probably super shaky from crying as he trys his best to help you

stays by you as ben patches you up

Trys his best to reassure you from the pain as he's crying/trying not to cry :<

Is so happy that you forgive him but also a little surprised that you forgave him so quickly

Throughout like the whole healing process he's giving you tons of apologies

Depending what time in the series this happens he might have gave you some flowers from his grandparents shop

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

I hope that's what you were expecting!! Also happy valentines day!

[ijwtbap]

ㅤㅤ★ㅤA promise — Bakugō

— Bakugō x GN! reader.

You like Katsuki, he likes you — is a fact not a maybe. He doesn't seem to believe it thought.

a/n. I had to keep my promise ig. Is VERY short, so im sorry, also Im bad at english, and it is my first one shot, so have some mercy plz.

You were going insane. Just a little bit. Well, actually, you were ready to rip out your hair and scream into the void, standing naked as flames consumed you. That's kind of insane.

Every time Bakugō referred to you as his friend—even if he only said you weren’t that annoying and didn’t mind having you around (which was close enough)—you wanted to disappear.

You had done everything but treat him platonically. Sure, you could see how holding hands, cuddling, or crying together might seem platonic. But kissing in bed and saying “I love you” in a completely serious way?

You were completely lost.

At first, you thought it was a joke, then maybe just a game to him.

But now? Now you’re convinced he’s just... dense.

You could tell Bakugō you love him dead serious while looking him dead in the eyes, on your knees and with a big sign that said 'plz marry me,' and he would still think you're joking.

And it was killing you.

"Are you going to study or what?"

You were in his bedroom, "studying." Yeah, right—studying. You just wanted to be there with him. You’d barged in without warning, and yet, he hadn’t even questioned your presence.

"No."

You knew he liked you back. There was no way he didn't, but fuck, he refused to acknowledge it.

"I like you."

His eyes widen for a second before he looks back at his notes.

"Shut up."

"I really do, tho."

"Yeah, whatever."

"I love you."

"If you don't stop, I will kick you out."

"I love you."

" __________ "

"I love you so much."

"Stop it."

"I want to marry you, one day when we're adults. Small or big wedding, or none at all, whatever you prefer."

"I'm being serious."

"So am I."

You two look at each other, him holding his pen so hard that it looks like it's about to break and you looking at him as if he were the most wonderful and prettiest dense idiot you have seen in your life.

"What do you need me to do to make you believe me?"

He ignores you. Mostly because he knows that paying attention to you would just make him more annoyed (because you clearly weren't going to stop) and because he didn't want to accept it.

"Die."

A small smile comes to your mouth. How many people would get offended by that? A lot, but you knew Bakugō didn't mean it.

"You want to recreate Given now?"

Bakugō rolls his eyes, making more notes in his notebook, but you were able to notice a small smirk.

You had forced him to watch it a couple of months ago, and he swears he didn't cry. You knew the truth, though.

"Shut up."

"Shut me up yourself, you coward."

He lets out another scoff, and he continues to avoid your eyes.

"Study already."

You loved Bakugō Katsuki, and he loved you back.

No matter how much time it would take you, you were going to make sure to take his last name and hold his hand in a not-platonic way.

One day.

"I love you."

I totally didn't use like 3 grammar online correctors, and re read this like 20 times (It will still have an issue, and I know it). I also didn't copy inspired my introduction (?) from a random post.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed my bad writing style. Im not doing this again, unless I get REALLY bored.

521 words.

[hitlikehammers]

oh golden boy (don't act like you were kind)

part ii: you shined a light on your home

for @kultiras at the ❄️ Winter @steddieexchange 🖤💚

<<< part one

Eddie will not pretend he doesn’t squeak when Dustin bustles past him into the house—a wholly appropriate ranch on the edge of town, with two whole separate bedrooms, no one on the couch anymore, plus a little side room that Eddie thinks probably wasn’t meant as a guest room but can definitely fit about three sleeping bags, four at a push—but yeah, he should have expected Dustin to shove his way into Eddie’s home whether Eddie invited it or not.

He doesn’t have to like it. Or approve of it. Or tolerate it without complaint; without pushing back.

“Hend—” he tries to sound stern, tries to project hand-on-hips-authority like St—

Like some people do. Sometimes. So Eddie’s heard.

“Implied consent!” Dustin cuts him off, voice carrying from at least the living room already, Jesus fuck, this kid; his tone.

Eddie’s glaring hard enough to almost definitely bore a hole through this shithead’s skull, or maybe make him spontaneously combust. If Supergirl was the one glaring, it’d be a done deal.

“You didn’t shut the door, thereby participating in the creation of an entrance,” Dustin’s rambling on and Christ, but he’s such a pompous little fuck sometimes.

“Which is great, and super smart of you,” Dustin tells him earnestly, actually, and wow: if that isn’t condescending, holy fuck; “because the quicker we can address the problem, the quicker it can be solved,” and then he’s turning of his heel and fucking…clapping his hands to together like Eddie’s in goddamn kindergarten.

“So!” Dustin barks with a weird enthusiasm. “Now we can talk about what you did to Steve, and how you’re gonna fix it.”

Eddie blinds at him for a couple couple seconds before throwing his hands up and half-kinda snarling, half-kinda whining:

“What the fuck, man?”

And honestly, Eddie’s torn just now between hurt and angry, indignant and bleeding out a little, because he doesn’t like Dustin accusing him blindly, here, and while he’s long grown past thinking the hero worship was unfounded—honestly, if he’s going to have to think about the man explicitly instead of as the understood ‘you’ that the constant ache of him and his absence has settled as in Eddie’s universe: he thinks what he clocked as hero worship in the beginning probably could have used some bulking up, because…the genuine article was so much more than even the stories Eddie’d refused to believe at the start.

But, back it up: Eddie…Eddie can accept Dustin coming to Steve’s defense—encouraged it, even. But, like, Dustin has stood up for Eddie, too, and just…Eddie didn’t do anything, he’s spent enough cold nights with his arms stretched missing what they’d learned so well to wrap around and hold so close, mourning what’s not there and hell yes, he’s run down every little detail he can think of, where he might have been the one to drive Steve away without ever, ever meaning to, and it boils down the same every time: there’s nothing.

He wishes there was. Because then yeah, like Dustin’s saying—there’d be something to fix. Something to do, to try and salvage what Eddie is entirely aware was very probably the love of his fucking life.

But there isn’t.

“Clearly something is wrong between the two of you,” Dustin gestures broadly in the air, extravagant for no reason but then also it kinda fits entirely because this entire heartbreak of an affair is basically the most devastating thing that’s ever tried to take Eddie down, and he was basically dead in another dimension that one time, so.

That’s saying something, is what he’s getting at.

“And like, I’ve watched when Steve’s been the one to fuck up, man, so like, I can recognize the signs and,” Dustin shakes his head, looks not exactly apologetic but not entirely all-in guns-blazing about pinning the blame on Eddie alone. At least not without giving him a fair shake to explain first.

Which he’d do, if he had any fucking idea what caused them to crash and burn when they’d been the most solid thing Eddie had ever seen, let alone been a part of; got to feel for himself.

“I know Steve,” Dustin says carefully, kinda slow, almost reluctant, which Eddie doesn’t really get until the next part comes out, a little choked, like tears muscled down:

“I’ve never seen him like this.”

Well. Fuck.

Fuck.

“It’s the holidays, man,” Eddie tries to make it sound casual, or at the very least genuine, like his pulse hasn’t jumped for the idea that Steve’s…not okay. Not fucking thriving like he deserves, now that Eddie’s out of the way of what makes him as happy as he should always be. “Sometimes people are just a little down in the dumps, it’s not unheard of,” and he thinks that lands okay, those are all true things, no one needs to know the way his heart’s thumping like a rabbit as his head goes to all sorts of horrible possibilities, and he shouldn’t let himself slide down those pathways anymore, it’s not his business, Steve isn’t—

“He’s not just sad,” Dustin shakes his head; “he’s not,” and he trails off and Eddie’s heartbeat stutters then jackhammers wild for the way Dustin’s face crumples over a fucking interminable stretch of moments that drives every horror possible through fragile arteries not prepared for how much it hurts, laced with the acids at the base of Eddie’s throat and rising, banged around with every beat and—

“I don’t think he’s sleeping,” Dustin says, so quiet, hard to tell if there are actual tears of just the threat of them. “I don’t think he’s eating,” and he takes a shaky breath that gets mirrored in Eddie’s blood, sniffles as he adds on, kinda desperate, fraying at the seams: “Robin can’t even…”

He stops, breathes a couple of times and collects himself—too good at that. Eddie…

Eddie doesn’t even try to do that, for his part. He’s not…strong, like these kids. Like the rest of this little rag-tag-trauma family unit. Eddie isn’t built that impermeable. S’why he’s always had to put on a show, scare people off before they get close enough to see the obvious.

Until…Steve.

And the proof of Eddie’s weaknesses are front and centre right now, so. Case in point.

“I met him right after he and Nancy broke up,” Dustin’s saying after he takes the time to regroup, huffing a breath and furrowing his brows at nothing, until: “after she did the,” and he circles his wrist around again and oh. Oh.

Bullshit.

Eddie’s brow furrows, too, at that.

“I didn’t know it at the time, obviously, and not like I was really paying attention anyway,” Dustin screws up his face a little, like he’s angry at a lot of people for what he’s remembering, and he’s not exempt from his own list; “but you said it yourself, you thought they were meant to be,” Dustin points at him in the sort of way that presses down on Eddie’s shoulders, makes him feel queasy and just…small.

“Unmitigated love, or whatever,” Dustin half-sneers and he doesn’t think that was the word he used but fuck if Eddie’s not transported back to those woods, to those first inklings that his heart was gonna leap and know it couldn’t stick the landing, would less crack and more like splatter, a messy ruin on the sidewalk for trying, for reaching when there was nothing to hook with a grip—

Except there had been, in the end. He hadn’t known it then—just reveled in the way it felt to brush arms against that man, to lean close enough to feel his heat in the frigid deadspace that was the hellscape they were trekking through.

But the end, as it has come anyway, did in fact leave him a fucking spatter-scape on the concrete, exactly the same as he’d feared at the start.

But Dustin fucking Henderson hadn’t been there when Eddie was making eyes at Mr. Former High School Royalty, so—

“How the fuck do you—”

“Doesn’t matter how,” Dustin waves him off like he’s a fucking idiot for asking a question that’s beneath his concern for the topic at hand. “Youthought that,” he rocks forward in emphasis and okay, fine, yeah. Eddie had thought that.

It’d taken a long fucking while for Eddie to stop thinking it; he’s tried not to wonder, now, if he was foolish to ever stop thinking it.

But: no. Of all the reasons Steve got sick of him, he doesn’t think it was because Steve decided to want Nancy. He remembers every word Steve told him about that time, and how Eddie knew it was downplayed for how much Steve took the brunt of her rejection, for how generous Steve was in hindsight to remember how it went down; how genuinely worrisome it was to know Steve actually saw himself as deserving what he’d gotten.

Still. Back in the Upside Down, Eddie had thought it. Told him to get it back. Couldn’t fathom her not seeing the error of her ways even before he comprehended just how egregious her errors ran the first time, just how little even unambiguous signs of love might still fail to deserve Steve Harrington.

But before he knew: he had thought he understood well enough to judge.

Just more reasons for Eddie Munson to quality as an unmitigated idiot.

“So when he lost that,” Dustin’s picking back up again, has got his explaining cap on, trying to map a diagram or some shit, save that it’s Steve and it feels…insufficient in every way, insulting at that, to think Steve could ever be made…simple like that. Cut and dry.

Eddie bristles at it. Maybe he doesn’t have the right anymore, but: Dustin sure as fuck does, and needs to do better.

“He was still okay enough, after that, to fucking join a quest for demodogs and get beat to hell by a psychopath,” Dustin’s saying with the kind of gravity all of a sudden that feels up to reshaping the world; “all just to protect some kids he didn’t even know.”

Eddie can feel where this is headed, can see the lead up to where Dustin’s going to drop them.

He wishes like hell that he couldn’t.

“So if he’s like this, now,” and Dustin sounds…fucking distraught, like all the posturing of pressuring Eddie to reveal what the hell had gone wrong, what he’d done to destroy them, to lose his Steve: the anger and the bafflement was all secondary.

The kid’s fucking scared.

And this kid? Who’s stared down certain death, who’s jumped after Eddie’s stupid ass when the end was imminent, no question?

That…that ratchets Eddie’s pulse up, considerably. For what it has to…mean.

“I have never,” and Dustin’s voice is kind of raspy, kind of too strained and Eddie…Eddie thinks it’d be shitty of him to say that Dustin only sounds like he’s struggling with a fraction of what Eddie’s starting to feel head-on, the bone-deep trembling worry for the unspoken details that must comprise the current state of Steve, piled on top of the wholesale grief and the mourning of both what Eddie’d had, and what he’d been hoping he’d be allowed, be able to keep.

It’d be shitty to say that. So he won’t.

Say it.

“Eddie, I have never seen him like this.”

And it’s all Eddie can do not to whimper, or moan pathetically because the hurt in those words is visceral, and it’s not supposed to be there because Eddie was the problem, he was what was hurting Steve and he’s out of the equation. So what’s causing this much anxiousness, this much concern? How could something have gone to shit so quickly, in just the weeks they’ve been apart—what’s wrong with his Stevie?

(And maybe Steve isn’t his anymore but by god, Eddie is Steve’s, will be to the day he dies, he thinks—no, he knows; no matter where he goes or who he becomes, a part of his heart will belong to Steve for always, whether it’s wanted or not. So that’s his Steve. Where is heart lives. Where is love burns, even as a nuisance. He can’t stop it. He can’t put it out.

It’s with his Steve, and no other.)

“And like,” and Eddie pulls himself enough out of his wallowing, his fretting, the aching in his fucking veins to focus on Dustin as he eyes Eddie up blatantly, the squints a little:

“You don’t look like you’re doing the best, either.”

Okay. Rude.

“Gee, thanks,” Eddie tries to drawl annoyingly, fails miserably; aim to bat his eyes at an attempt at levity that he knows falls flat as hell.

He doesn’t know if he was even trying for it more for Dustin’s sake, or his own.

“Fuck off, man,” Dustin rolls his eyes; “I’m serious,” then he’s gets that grave tone about him again and Eddie hates that these kids have to even know how to be that serious about anything—least of all him, and his…whatever you call the ruins of your everything, when it comes to—

“You might not be hurting like Steve is,” Dustin tells him plain, doesn’t pull punches; “like you’re joyful in comparison,” and okay, ouch—

“But that’s not a healthy bar to clear.”

And Dustin’s eyes are a little narrowed around the call-out, the judgement on so many levels but they’re also…open somehow. Trying to be receptive, and welcoming.

Trying to be a good��friend—for Steve and Eddie alike.

“Henderson,” Eddie shakes his head even before his voice strains; “he,” and all the fight goes out of him, drained dry better than the bats ever managed to leave him which is for the best, really, because what he says next, what he admits next is as good as slicing as artery, the way it flays him open to speak into the world:

“He doesn’t want me around.”

He doesn’t want you—

“Oh, right,” Dustin snarks at him with a glare; “definitely doesn’t wilt whenever you come up, doesn’t leave the room or anything,” then it’s Dustinwho wilts a little, somewhere between a pout and concern:

“When we actually get to see him at all.”

“That would be a prime example,” Eddie notes with a kind of…devastated intent, shoving the stabbing sense of worry at the core of him out of the way to make his point: “of what someone does when they don’t want a person around,” and Eddie is right, he’s absolutely right because that’s just natural, that’s a normal reaction and here is clear proof that—

“Not Steve.”

Dustin cuts Eddie’s mental conviction off at its knees with the sheer amount of feeling, of certainty in his tone, like he knows this one thing beyond all the doubt in the world.

It’s that certainty that sours worst in Eddie’s gut.

“If Steve doesn’t want something, he ignores it,” Dustin says, insistent and so fucking sad; “I think it goes back to his parents, like,” Dustin shrugs, and Eddie feels bile at the back of his throat.

“If you’re unwanted, you’re neglected, treated like you don’t exist,” and not for the first time, Eddie kinda-sorta regrets that the murder charges didn’t stick, because then he’d be tarred and feathered appropriately to just go ahead and off the fuckers that made Steve ever wonder if he was somehow anything less than the best person, the most deserving of everything.

“Because that hurts worse,” Dustin says, low, like he gets it. Like he hates it.

“Being invisible hurts the worst.”

Death would be too easy for those fucking assholes who taught Steve that, just because their own hearts were hateful. Eddie…Eddie wants to run to his Stevie and just, fucking, hold him. Make sure he remembers that it doesn’t matter if Eddie’s near or far, his or never close again: he’ll always matter to Eddie. He’ll never, ever be invisible.

“I,” Eddie licks his lips when the silence stretches too long, and Dustin doesn’t seem inclined to fill it this time. “He,” and Eddie’s mouth is too dry, throat still too tight; “we’ve been—”

“You’re together.”

Eddie freezes, heart doing a kind of hard brake thing that shakes him from the ribs on out, and Eddie may not have know where the hell he was going, how he was going to summarize then sanitize what it feels like to give all that you are and be found wanting in the end—but he hadn’t once considered fucking saying…that.

“What?” Eddie chokes, half-assed at best. It’s shock more than it’s denial, save that it should have been past tense, even if Eddie’s whole fucking soul is still with Steve, but he doesn’t think he knows or even fully wants to reel it back.

Ever.

But while they hadn’t hid anything more than in plain sight? They…no one was ever told they’d been dating, and, he, they—

“If even I can see it,” Dustin says, not unkindly exactly but…definitely blunt: “that kinda means it’s an open secret.”

Eddie coughs around the tight shock squeezing at his throat:

“Those aren’t your words,” he manages, because—they aren’t.

And Dustin looks briefly like he sucked on a lemon, knows he can’t fight the obvious.

“Max,” he sighs, admitting from where he’s borrowing uncharacteristic insight; “she told me I was the last to know.”

Any other day, about any other thing, Eddie would feel a much bigger sense of petty vindication in Dustin’s forced humbling.

As it stands? Eddie’s chest hurts too much to fit any kind of twisted delight of the kind getting any sort of foothold in him.

“Right,” he breathes out in an airy, useless kind of sound, doesn’t know where it’s going, doesn’t know what he’s doing.

He feels…actually?

Dying felt less tumultuous than what’s starting to churn through his veins right now, no fucking lie.

“You guys could have told us,” Dustin prods, a little sad, disappointed—hurt that he was left out.

“I,” Eddie’s mouth works around a lot of thoughts, a lot of half-formed feelings because what would it have been like to hold Steve where the people they loved could see, just because they could? To sit in his lap when he got tired, when the scars ached a little from doing too much for too long with the kids. To warm his hands just under the hem of a sweater. To just, just—

“Doesn’t matter now,” is what Eddie lands on, because it’s the honest conclusion of all his wishful wondering; bitter in his voice as much as it is in his chest. “It’s over.”

Fuck. Fuck, has he even said that out loud, yet? Can’t have—it hits too much like whiplash. Like the world ending.

“Doesn’t sound over,” Dustin volleys back like it’s simple; “is it over, for you?”

He asks it, like it’s enough to love with all that you are when it’s got nowhere to go anymore. Like he can strong-arm that kind of feeling through will alone. That one side can make a relationship on their own.

“It sure as hell doesn’t look like it’s over for him,” Dustin stares him down, now, something shifting in his demeanor that screams that he’s done playing games.

“What did you say?” Dustin asks him, something a little pleading in it, but Eddie’s throat won’t work, he can’t fucking speak and Dustin reads it as avoidance, instead of like Eddie’s heart is trying to rip out past his fucking trachea.

“What did he say?” but Dustin doesn’t sound even remotely convinced for his own self that this is on Steve. That it could be on Steve. And…again. Dustin hasn’t been shy about supporting one of them over the other when necessary.

“I,” and how is Eddie even supposed to breach explaining the chain of events that he can parse, leading to where things stand now? Sorry buddy, your ineffably physical and endlessly affectionate brother-slash-babysitter started refusing my kisses and sleeping on the edge of the bed so he barely touched me when he used to be a goddamn octopus to my sloth, grabbing and never letting go until he did, entirely, which is to say nothing of the sex, fuck, did you know your taxi driver is loud as shit in bed, but then all of a sudden if we even had sex he was suddenly silent and if there’s ever a blow to your ego, it’s to fuck your boyfriend and get nothing in response save sometimes tears he doesn’t acknowledge in the aftermath, that really makes a guy feel special.

Yeah, he’s not going to say that. He doesn’t even know how to get across how Steve pulled away, slow and all at once at the same time, overnight as much as it felt like it happened in pieces. But he stiffened when Eddie so much as brushed against him. He barely talked to Eddie. He was always taking extra shifts at work. He didn’t want to be around Eddie. He didn’t want Eddie, outgrew him in the course of weeks, maybe months if Eddie just hadn’t noticed in the beginning, but, it just…they were amazing, one minute. Perfect.

And then they…weren’t.

“He, I mean, it,” and Eddie grabs at his hair and hides behind it, because all of that’s true, all of what he saw and felt and lost in his relationship with Steve before it stopped: it’s accurate.

But then there’s…everything Dustin’s saying. And…Steve was pulling away from him, turning away from him, but did he…was he seeing Robin, or only at work? Was he seeing the rest of the Party?

“He was,” Eddie tries to find a throughway to follow but he’s too distracted because…was Steve sleeping before Eddie stopped coming to bed at all, because everything he tried wasn’t enough, because it was breaking him to keep lying there and not just be ignored, but be actively avoided? Was he…had Steve not been eating regularly, before Eddie left—

Wait.

Eddie…Eddie didn’t leave. He went to Wayne’s, the home that wasn’t the one Steve grew up in, when he needed to get more clothes. It was getting too cold, and since he’d basically moved in with Steve right out of the hospital and never really moved out, he’d been migrating what had survived the old trailer little by little as needed and so he’d…he’d gone to get things.

He’d broken down when his uncle asked him what was wrong, said he looked like someone ran over his cat.

More like his heart, but. Same idea.

And then he’d…he’d been scared. He’d called the house to try and ask Steve when he wanted Eddie to come back, because he’d wondered after telling Wayne everything—and hearing him talk about what it was like coming back from war for some of his buddies—if Steve just needed some space: but the line had rang and rang and rang. Didn’t even grab the machine.

And Eddie had…Eddie had cried so fucking hard he could have sworn he’d busted something in his eye. But…but…

never gonna leave you all alone again

He gasps to himself when the words run lightning quick through his head, and his heart clenches fucking hard.

Did…did Eddie, did he go and…and leave Steve…

Did he leave his Stevie alone?

No. No, it was, Eddie never wanted to keep his distance.

Eddie doesn’t stay awake to all hours staring the the ceiling while his body reels at what it knows it’s missing because he wants to. He doesn’t jolt awake lamenting that emptiness because he likes it, whenever his consciousness drifts in fitful bursts that he doesn’t feel like he deserves, because while he’d maybe been slinking back to lick his wounds when he went to Wayne’s, he would never have even thought to do this own his own, to be estranged.

Though all of those things aren’t without the parasitic leech of a thought on the side: he told you to leave with everything but words, and only that because he stopped taking at all.

But…but Eddie can’t live with Steve hurting. And maybe Steve doesn’t want him, doesn’t love him like that anymore. But Eddie thought of him as his friend, even if they never had a space between where they were just friends and not everything.

And it sounds like maybe Steve could use a friend. Maybe he doesn’t want Eddie for that either, but. Eddie’s kinda in agony at just the thought of the picture Dustin’s been painting.

“It’s Christmas,” Dustin takes that unspoken cue to pipe back up; “like, I just,” and he ends on a note of straight-up entreaty, damn close to pleading:

“Fix it, man.”

And Eddie…

Eddie doesn’t think he’s wanted, in general. Certainly not to be the one who fixes…anything.

But a nice chunk of his heart is with this man who is apparently hurting, and Eddie’s soul-certain love is fixed on him, probably for the rest of fucking time, so.

He’s sitting here being unwanted already.

Won’t hurt to try; can’t possibly end up worse.

❄️

>>> part iii

for @kultiras🖤

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson @estrellami-1 @bookworm0690 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @nerdyglassescheeseychick @swimmingbirdrunningrock @goodolefashionedloverboi @sanctumdemunson @theheadlessphilosopher @sadisticaltarts @bumblebeecuttlefishes @shrimply-a-menace @wheneverfeasible @1-tehe-1 @themoonagainstmers @dreamercec @ravenfrog @live-laugh-love-dietrich @stealthysteveharrington @tinyplanet95 @theohohmoment @samsoble @tinyloonyteacups @askitwithflours @awkwardgravity1 @pretend-theres-a-name-here @dragoon-ze-great @warlordess @notaqueenakhaleesi @pukner

divider credit here

[artfulacrostic]

okay, do you want to know too much about st. yves, aka the guy in the litany that appears via matt's narration twice in ddba ep 6? well me and my childhood catholic education are here for you, but let me just say they hit the nail on the head with that one.

first of all: st. yves is the catholic patron saint of lawyers and the law in general (barristers, solicitors, jurists, etc). he was basically well known for fairly upholding the standards of the law, including refusing to accept bribes after he eventually became the middle ages version of a judge, and his big thing was all about helping and protecting the poor and the oppressed, especially widows and children. he was so into charity that he is usually shown with a bag of money to give away in one hand and the symbol of the law/judges in the other (some kind of scroll), or shown as mediating between a rich man and a poor man.

it's super clear to me and probably also you by this point why st. yves is a saint that matt would feel a particular connection with. it's a no brainer. the actual prayer he is praying is a snippet from the end of the litany of st. yves. a litany, in case you're wondering, is a kind of prayer usually formatted as a petition, and there are (i think, don't fail me now brain) five that are actually approved as public litanies that can be prayed at mass, while there are a bunch of other private litanies that you might do on your own or at home, with a bit less emphasis on the call and response format that is so big on the public ones like the litany of the saints.

a litany like the litany of st. yves is usually designed to call for that particular saint's intercession, aka to get them to put in a good word for you to god, since they are basically in the top tier of souls who are in good standing up in heaven. so while the saint themself can't do much, they can be like "yo i think my man matt could use some mojo would you mind giving that a look please?" and god is more likely to bestow some grace upon the person and their prayer intentions.

what's fascinating about the litany of st. yves is that in using it to pray for st. yves' intercession and help with the things that are being listed in the petition, matt isn't just asking for justice (although he is). the section he prays onscreen: "O God, from whom cometh all that is right and just, Thou didst establish Saint Yves as a judge in the midst of his brethren, making him the friend and advocate of the poor. Do Thou make us, by his intercession, steadfast in the pursuit of justice and confident in Thy merciful goodness. Through Christ our Lord. Amen."

great, easy to see why matt relates to the desire to be a friend and advocate to the poor, why he wants to be made steadfast in the pursuit of justice, and why he wants to renew his confidence in god's mercy and goodness. great. nice and clear.

but.

if you're a big daredevil person, you know matt's faith and his willingness to go beat the shit out of evil people in the dead of night are deeply intertwined.

included in the actual petition portion of the litany of st. yves:

"Saint-Yves, devoted to penitence, pray for us."

gee, i wonder what matt feels guilty about that he feels the need to repent for.

"Saint Yves, friend of young people, pray for us. Saint Yves, companion of adolescents, pray for us."

gee, i wonder who the main focus of the episode is on matt saving. (angela.) gee, i wonder which demographic he caves for every time, and does what maybe he shouldn't, from the child he saved from the abusive father because he couldn't bear to listen anymore, to the boy who was kidnapped by the russians, who matt went after even though he knew it was a trap that they were using to try and kill him. (kids.)

"Saint Yves, helper of all who invoke thee, pray for us."

gee, i wonder who came to matt to ask for help, help that he was struggling to give via the system.

"Saint Yves, bright light among men of law, pray for us."

gee, i wonder why matt is struggling to find guidance on what he should do, when doing what he knows foggy would have wanted has been his guiding light—except it's been getting harder and harder to see that the system works at all.

"Saint Yves, terror of demons, pray for us."

gee. i wonder who might be feeling the urge to put some righteous terror back into the hearts of evil-doers.

and those are just the most immediately relevant lines. so maybe they just googled the patron saint of lawyers and jumped on that bandwagon. but maybe matt's looking for intercession for all those things and more. because of course we know that he prays more and more when he starts to let the devil out.

[sanfezu]

How bored was I? Yes. Have this and do whatever I guess. I threw all logic out the window. If you find something that is canonically impossible… that is my bad, and I accept it 👍 Have a good one!

❗️This is a concept, and by that I mean that this is an idea that exists without big exploration of it. And it is OOC, especially with PVC, since he’s the only one who was changed. The concept exists just because I was bored and wanted some angst. Angst for the sake of angst, if you will. In the end, this concept will have a lot of flaws, but it is not meant to be an entire AU, with a whole story rewritten. It’s just a little idea, which was probably written by someone else before me, but I don’t know/don’t remember. ❗️ The changes were not made as a “redesign” of Pure Vanilla Cookie. The changes of Pure Vanilla Cookie here were made just for the idea, he is great the way he is in the canon. Thank you.

In general:

This is a more injured and broken version of Healer Cookie, and/or Pure Vanilla Cookie. Everything is the same, except for HC/PVC appearance and personality.

He has major head injury. Yet, he cannot heal it (he tried after Black Raisin Cookie asked him to, and after failing she never asked him to try it again, and he never tried again). Has no idea how he’s still alive (I don’t know as well👍)

He is blind, seeing only really blurry blobs of colours.

Before his memories come back:

He has problems feeling anything. And he has a big problem spacing out a lot. That does not mean he’s fully numb, he has his moments when he feels and a lot.

His Vanilla Orchid Staff is broken, and has a dangerous sharp end where the vanilla orchid once was, but he refuses to let other cookies fix it or get him a somewhat normal walking stick, having a strange connection with it, the feeling he cannot explain yet. The vanilla orchid itself is nowhere to be found (and they don’t know how the staff should look, so they never tried finding the other half of it)

Because Healer Cookie is blind, having such a dangerous staff, the Villagers of Abandoned Village decided to cover the staff where he holds it with bandages for him to feel where it’s okay to hold. They did try to get it fully wrapped, but the sharp end just rips the covers open. 

He has his hair gathered in a messy right-sided ponytail, with his hair being loose on his left side. His hair is also greenish on the ends and he has some grey hairs being here and there. 

He does not speak much. Yet, he is still gentle and polite just like OG Pure Vanilla Cookie.

Additional:

Black Raisin Cookie had a feeling she knew who he actually was, since his face is not covered showing his eye and half of the four-pointed star on his forehead, but she had her doubts since Pure Vanilla Cookie supposed to be dead, so she decided not to pry (not that he remembered himself anyway). 

GingerBrave and CO. also had a thought about Pure Vanilla Cookie when they saw Healer Cookie. They did ask him about it, yet, he said he didn’t really know what they’re talking about. All the things that were happening with Healer Cookie during their adventure were all noticed by the CO. proofing that the Healer Cookie might in fact be Pure Vanilla Cookie. 

Dark Enchantress Cookie was not happy seeing him, immediately recognising him. “You’re a no one cookie” conversation never happened.

After his memories come back:

He still has problems expressing himself, but he is getting a little bit better.

His Vanilla Orchid Staff was revived (how, you may ask… magic), so he can finally see through it.

Loosen his hair, yet they are still messy and greenish on the ends. Grey hairs never left. Sometimes gets them in the same ponytail as Healer cookie.

Speaks more, but gets tired while doing so now.

With time everything gets better and easier… until the jester dropped by.

During Beast Yeast:

Nothing really changes except for Pure Vanilla Cookie’s appearance and personality (a little bit, but that’s due to head injury that never got healed and the numbness he feels from now and then).

Truthless Recluse still happens.

As I said, nothing basically changes here or anywhere else, except for Pure Vanilla Cookie’s appearance and personality.

That’s basically it, do whatever, have fun.

[technofeudalism]

lmao American liberals are the most transparent people on earth.

Joe Biden gets diagnosed with ass cancer

Leftists rightfully don't shed a tear, play world's smallest violin

Liberals lose their entire fucking minds about civility and the radical left

Gerry Connolly straight up drops dead from throat cancer the same week

Liberals couldn't give a single solitary fuck less and are saying identical things about him that people did about Joe Biden

now, why is this the case, you ask? it's pretty simple. liberals supported Joe Biden and Kamala Harris up until the very end. they insist to this day that he was the right pick and subsequently, so was Kamala Harris after he dropped out, even though the Biden White House itself didn't even believe that according to Jake Fapper's (not a typo) new book.

on the other hand, because committed ideological American liberals have no real principles and only operate off of vibes, they also love AOC and resent that she got locked out of a leadership role in the House.

therefore, the only option in this scenario is to paint themselves as on the "right side of history" in both instances, despite the fact that the two positions ("Joe Biden was a good man who did good things and a good president" vs. "Joe Biden, Nancy Pelosi and the rest of the historical DNC leadership including Barack Obama are directly responsible for the lack of a progressive wing in the party and have directly delivered us Donald Trump") are completely contradictory feelings to have. it's incomprehensible.

so if these particular ride-or-die libs clutch pearls over Gerry Connolly, they might risk coming off not as "left," which they depend upon to portray themselves to young people as actually in support of some kind of progressive/left-wing movement. in order to stay within the acceptable norms of the current societal moment, they furrow their brow over people like AOC getting blackballed while they're actually advocating against people like her and any kind of bold change or progressive reforms by supporting Joe Biden and the Democratic party's center of the road, corporatist obstructionism ("What?! So Trump is better?! You're doing purity testing infighting! Not every candidate can be perfect!")

but if they don't clutch pearls over Joe Biden (not even dead by the way), then they risk making a tacit admission that they were advocating for a genocidal freak all the way up until July despite knowing the nature of his character and then subsequently also making excuses and refusing to meaningfully pressure his handpicked genocide partner-in-crime until November and beyond.

conservatives are brutally honest about their world view because they are too angry, resentful and hateful to hold it in. liberals on the other hand will blast you with cognitive dissonance and completely detach themselves from any kind of material reality if it means that they can feel like they've done the "most right" without "causing too much of a disturbance." it's chicken shit cowardly behavior.

[amellialunarie]

Unseen, Unheard, Still Here

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·┈┈┈┈

Could I even be able to hang on and make it to the end?

She couldn't recall when the heaviness took hold of her heart. It just settled in, like fog creeping on her skin.

A still, quiet fog.

It didn't scream inside her head, it didn't hurt. It simply pressed. Crushing any hope she had left with a deliberate force.

Most days, she woke up in the shell of herself, an echo of who she thought she should’ve been. The mirror never spoke kindly to her. It showed the scary possibilities of the future that still felt real. It echoed the fears everyone, including her, thought might come true.

The Kyklos curse.

A constant reminder that time is running out, and she still hasn’t found any key ways to survive.

On usual days, she knew how to laugh. She could mimic smiles. She could be polite. Sometimes, she even surprised herself and made someone laugh.

She endured all the hardships she faced while accompanying all these ghouls through their mission. Some could be difficult, while others could express genuine appreciation for her efforts.

There are still people who care about her, promise to help her with her curse, and God knows they have made an effort.

And she tried. God, she tried. She nodded. She said thank you. She wrote gratitude lists and did her best for them.

But survival felt like balancing on a thread stretched thin across a canyon at this point. Everyone was clapping on one side, and she was just trying not to look down while she walked on the thread.

Hope shines for a moment, then fades away like morning dew. She questioned whether she could face it again once more.

These ghouls have almost no hope of catching anomalies alive.

She sighs, remembering how many times she almost cured her curse. Yet, each attempt slipped away at the last moment. Or even worse, there is absolutely nothing they could find during the mission.

It feels like a dead end straight to her own demise.

"Still..." she muttered, recalling the risk of Darkwick's mission while innocent people still lived near the anomaly, unaware of it. "I'm just glad there's no one hurt that badly."

"Ah, the dandelion appears sorrowful once more."

A sudden foreign yet familiar voice destroys all your trains of thought. As you begin to feel disconnected from everything around you, you never expected Edward to show up at the back of the training ground.

"Edward-san?!! Why are you here?"

There stands the old vampire, indifferent to the sun. Watching him rise from his couch and leave his YouTube is like seeing a wonder of the world. It leaves her in awe for a moment.

"Why, oh, I wonder, my dandelion lady," he mused, referencing the nickname Towa had given her. "Still cursed with that tender little heart, always trying to find meaning in your own misery. A most endearing, if tragically futile, habit."

She turned fully toward him, brushing dust from her skirt. “I didn’t think anyone else would be out here. Not today, at least.”

“And yet, here you are,” he said, gesturing vaguely to her as he stepped further into the shade. “Wearing the expression of one who’s carrying out a war, only to wonder if it was worth to fought for.”

She lowered her gaze. “Maybe it wasn’t.”

Edward hummed, half in amusement, half in thought. “You know, I find it rather fascinating that mortals insist on searching for purpose in pain. As if suffering must yield meaning—or else it’s too cruel to accept.”

She crossed her arms with a firm grip. “Is it wrong to want it to mean something?”

“Oh, not wrong,” he said, his voice suddenly softer. “Just... exhausting. Like trying to read a book whose ending refuses to be written.”

She stood stunned at his remark as if it hit the nail on, silence stretched between them. She finally looked at Edward.

“You think I won’t make it, don’t you?” she asked, not accusingly, just tired.

Edward tilted his head, considering. “Oh, I think you might. But I also think you believe your death would inconvenience no one, which is far more dangerous than any curse.”

That one hit her—low, somewhere in the ribs.

She almost spoke, almost defended herself. But her voice caught.

Edward looked up, eyes catching a glint of light that wasn’t sunlight. “There’s something odd about you, MC. Even stranger than the Kyklos clinging to your soul like ivy. You persist, not out of pride or purpose, but out of obligation. To whom, I wonder?”

“I don’t know,” she said, revealing her true feelings. “I don’t even know if I want to keep going... or if I’m just afraid to stop.”

A long breath, nearly a sigh, slipped from Edward as he turned and walked toward the edge of the grass. Then he looked past her.

No—through her.

And his voice, when it came, changed.

Lower. Slower. Like it had remembered something he wasn’t supposed to know.

“Perhaps it is not just us who are hoping for your survival, MC.” he said. “There are voices older than time, quieter than thought... and still louder than fate. Forces you’ve never seen. Ones that never left.”

He smiled, narrowing his eyes slightly—almost as if he found amusement in a private joke.

“Or perhaps,” he said now, stepping further into the fading light, “there is just one pair of eyes, watching from the distance... wishing, more than any of us ever could, for you to endure.”

She blinked. “What?”

But he didn’t answer her.

Because he wasn’t talking to her.

His gaze lingered just beyond the air she breathed. Past the dusty training ground. Past the academy walls. Past even the screen she stood on.

And then—

“You're the one who likely wished for her survival the most, didn’t you?”

He smiled at you with a hint of recognition, as someone does when they already know the answer.

It felt like he could see right through you. You knew this was ending, yet you stayed—for her and for everyone still at the academy.

Yes, so please all of you...must survived. Please...

“Even if she never knew it.” Then he turned back to her, his tone casual once more. “Come now, enough melancholy. If you insist on brooding in corners, at least wear a coat.”

She blinked, shaken out of her thoughts. “…Right.”

She didn’t ask him what he meant. Maybe she didn’t want to know. Maybe she wasn’t supposed to.

But for some reason, she felt a little less lonely.

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ .fin

Early warning : Tbh, I'm still not finished all the episode to the latest update so I actually have little information while making this (please forgive me if there's any OOC, have mercy). All I ever make mostly inspired based on what people posting so I always link their post in my credit. Word count: 1089.

#credits; seeing this post, I've been inspired.

[eggcats]

Headcanon that Alastor only knows how to show affection in ways HE would find acceptable to receive it. And yes, this DOES include random dead deer carcasses and the occasional sinner, but more importantly it affects how he interacts with others.

Because, other than Mimzy, who fairly explicitly tells him to fight her battles for her, most of his friends and acquaintances are powerful enough that joining a fight on their behalf would be an insult. Because HE would be insulted if someone did that to him, so he doesn't do it to those he likes and respects.

And as such, when he sees someone he cares about fighting he will watch and observe to only enter the battle if absolutely necessary - to do anything else would be to imply that they are weak and in need of protection. He respects them enough to let them win their own battles.

However, when he and Angel start becoming closer, this REALLY confuses Angel. He thought they were sorta-kinda friends, but Alastor REFUSES to help him even a little when he gets caught up in a turf war.

Alastor just observes from the fringes and doesn't do a THING to help Angel, and it's slowly driving him mad. Because the second the battle is over, Alastor will act just like before, but during it? He seems like he doesn't know who Angel is. It's kind of offensive, really. But he doesn't say anything because maybe HE'S misinterpreting their friendship here, and is looking into their interactions more than they are because he likes Alastor. It kind of hurts, but this is Hell, so what doesn't?

Until one day, when Alastor sees some random sinner attempt to drug Angel to force a victory. And suddenly, Alastor reminds everyone why they should fear the Radio Demon - because how DARE they be so weak as to insult Angel in such a way rather than simply respectfully dying.

And Angel is CONFUSED. He's like, "What the FUCK was that, Smiles?!" And is even more confused when Alastor APOLOGIZES and shows Angel the syringe as his reasoning for joining the fight.

Angel is so lost that for the first time, he brings up Alastor's weird behavior to Husk while he's drinking. And Angel is even MORE lost when Husk simply goes, "Ah, that makes sense."

A: "WHAT makes sense 'cuz I don' get why he'd choose NOW to help me!"

H: "Al is an Overlord, and most of his friends are other or former Overlords. How'd you think he'd take it if someone fought to defend him in a fight if he didn't need it?"

A: "What's that got to do wit' anything?"

H: "Al's treating you with the same respect he'd expect to have. He thinks you're upset at him for HELPING, not for taking this long to do so. He thinks he's insulted you by implying you're weak and in need of defending."

Suddenly, Angel is reevaluating every time he's noticed Alastor watching the fight from the sidelines, but not moving an inch to help him. It's kind of flattering that he thinks Angel is so capable of handling himself, but also wanted to stay in case something happened? That. That kind of says a lot to how Alastor sees him, doesn't it? If he's treating him like Angel is just as worthy as respect as Alastor's other friends? And the fact that he only joined the fight when someone tried to force him to lose unfairly?

Angel realizes he needs to talk to Alastor and clear up this misunderstanding, because suddenly it doesn't seem so ridiculous that Alastor might care for him and Angel just hasn't been able to read the signs correctly.

[angelsdean]

*record scratch* freeze frame. Reality Check. "You're the one who came and got me at school. You're the one who dragged me back into this." let's re-evaluate that statement, Sam, because that is not, in fact, what happened.

The context in which Sam makes this statement is that he's arguing Dean used to care about the revenge quest and killing the demon because Dean is the one that came and got Sam and thus "dragged him back" into the quest to kill the demon. But, that is not why Dean went to get Sam at school, it was to find John, who was missing and possibly dead. Dean didn't even Know about the demon at this point (they don't find out that "the thing that killed mom" is a demon til 1x11) or that John was closing in on it. Dean goes to Stanford to ask Sam to help him look for John, that's it. Then, at the end of 1x01 Dean brings Sam back to school in time for his interview as promised, and drives away. He only turns around when, in the deleted scene, he notices his watch has stopped, cluing him in that something is wrong. And he gets there in time to save Sam from the burning building.

Sam then makes the choice to leave with Dean because now that he's lost someone, he is personally invested in finding John because John knows more about the thing that killed Mary (and now Jess) than anyone, and Sam is the one who is now consumed by the need for revenge and the first step in getting that revenge is finding John, something he had no vested interest in doing before, but is now heavily invested in, even more than Dean is, as we see throughout the first half of s1 where Sam is often the one calling around looking for John and is more interested in searching for John than taking on random cases.

Anyways, it's just so interesting to track this revisionism of events and how both Sam and Dean come to accept this as the truth when it's literally not what we saw happen throughout the season. And we see Dean start to absorb this belief after Meg plants the seed in their heads in 1x16, trying to drive a wedge between them, by falsely saying Dean "drags Sam around like luggage" when literally the whole reason Sam and Meg meet is because Sam wanted to part ways in 1x11 and Dean let him go. Sam then comes back and decides to stay all on his own, even after Dean offers to drop Sam off somewhere.

Dean expresses in 1x16, that yes, he wants Sam around, he wants his family together again, but at the end of that very episode Dean is also the one who says they need to split up from John, even though it's the last thing he wants. Dean consistently is willing to let people go, even if it's not what he personally wants. And especially Sam. Over and over throughout the season he expressed how he wants Sam to have a normal life, is willing to let Sam go, or stay in some random town and drop the search for John. So even IF Dean did secretly want Sam to stick around when he went to get Sam at Stanford, he never expected it. Never enforced it.

That Sam comes to think Dean "dragged him back" into hunting is a purely revisionism and a bit of projection, I think, because Sam might not want to face the truth of the matter which is that he consistently chose to stick with hunting, and actually enjoys it more than he'd like to admit. And, as both he and John express, this quest to kill Yellow Eyes becomes "their" obsession. Not Dean's. Dean is the one who says he'd rather they never find the demon if it means losing his family. Dean is the one that says getting revenge isn't worth dying for. And then, Sam takes this to heart, when at the end of 1x22 he refuses to kill John Possessed by Azazel at Dean's pleading, AND when he tells John that killing this demon does not come "before everything" while eyeing Dean bleeding out in the backseat.

Dean was never the one invested in revenge. He did not come get Sam from Stanford to aid in the family revenge quest, he came for help in finding their missing father, something Dean cared abt simply because that's family, and Dean cares deeply, despite everything John put them through. Dean is the one that cares, the heart of the narrative, etc etc. He comes to Sam because he is alone in the world, because their only other blood relative is missing, because it's a very human thing, to reach out, to want family around. And still, he was always going to let Sam go after the 1x01. He didn't like it. It's not what Dean wanted. But he was going to let him go back to his life. Sam chose to follow Dean and continue searching for John.

[devondespresso]

(found this bad boy in my drafts and honestly i loved reading it again so we're gonna post it. wahoo)

my personal canon for post-starcourt stobin is that they're actually inseparable for the first month or so

im talking steve taken to the hospital for his injuries and the staff having to force them apart and call security. im talking they have to drag robin kicking and screaming to a different room because last time Steve left her sight he was dragged back lifeless and presumably dead (i firmly believe they intentionally used physical torture for steve and to use his condition for psychological torture for robin)

and steve waking up half-present in a cold plain room alone? might as well be back in the bunker. and if theres doctors trying to run tests and examine his wounds? might as well be Russian soldiers standing over him and touching his injuries. hurting him again. possibly planning to hurt Robin next.

and now hospital staff are trying to deal with two screaming desperate teenagers who keep begging for the other in between rambles of nonsense and they can't run tests or do their jobs or even get answers from them because all these two seem to care about is the other teen

so they don't really have any practical choices other than moving them to a combined room. and they still freak out every now and then but having the other in the room keeps these outbursts much shorter and doctors are able to actually run tests and help these kids as long as they're close together. And when Robins blood tests and everything come back ok and shes able to be discharged, shes given special permission to stay in the room at all times

and the two little kids that came in with them? they're not exactly freaking out quite like the teens but they're certainly not making things easy either. Ericas testing the willpower of any doctor or nurse she can speak to and both kids stay as close as they can at all times and refuse to leave the hospital. visiting hours over? they're in the waiting room, even convinced a couple to move so they can have seats closest to the hall that teens room is in. try to call their parents? good luck getting a full name or number out of them. once their parents do come get them they're showing back up in an hour, bikes lodged in the bike rack and back in their seats. they've been stopped for sneaking in several times and caught hiding under one of the teens beds even more often. eventually staff just gets tired of spending half their shift wrangling two middle schoolers and it becomes an unspoken agreement to just ignore them hiding in the room.

And once Steve is discharged its the same thing all over again. Robins parents were worried about her spending all her time in the hospital with the boy from her summer job, but given the cover story about the fire and the pair getting trapped inside they convinced themselves its reasonable to want to stay by your friends side while they recover

but now that hes out, shes asking if she can spend the night at his house? and his parents won't be there? absolutely not. except robins in no mindset to accept leaving him alone for this long let alone overnight so she tried sneaking out to bike over to his before he can get the dumb idea to drive over in the middle of the night post-concussion. but the buckleys notice shes gone either because she makes too much noise sneaking out or they notice the severe lack of Robin-trying-to-be-quiet noises into the night (robin my tism queen definitely has bump-into-shit syndrome in the middle of the night but she also doesn't make any noise sneaking around the base with scoops troop so i think it's a 50/50 weather she can use the adrenaline to sneak out to see steve quietly)

so they put two and two together and drive over to the Harrington house. steve answers the door and calls robin over, both of them looking sheepish but not exactly guilty. they talk on steves couch (yes Steves there too) and stobin does their best to explain their separation anxiety that gets the severity across without getting them sent to a mental hospital all while making sure not to break any ndas (which ends up being a long conversation with stobin trying to translate their experience in the bunker to fit the cover story well enough, which is very different when the real story is kidnapping and the fake one is a building fire)

eventually they reach an understanding of "we're worried this is kinda unhealthy but its clearly more stressful to try and separate you right now and we're definitely not going to be able to stop you" so they compromise to let steve stay at the buckleys for a little bit so they can at least keep an eye on them. at first they try just letting steve sleep on the couch (which they agree to because steve worried about overstepping as the guest in their house) but one or both of them have nightmares the first night and robin ends up on the couch with him anyway.

after a few nights they get the gist of the stobin dynamic: attached so strongly its concerning but nothing... flirty. anything they do is always completely innocent. hand holding with no heart eyes, banter with no tension, hell even sharing a bed they resemble little kids in a sleepover pile more than lovers. and especially after nightmares they'll find robin holding steve like hes just one of her old teddy bears.

of course theyre still cautious and have their suspicions that theyre secretly dating and just really good at hiding it, they're paranoid parents after all and robins never shown this much attention to a boy ever. but they do relax a bit with it as they're more confident theres no... funny business.. going on. or at the very least nothing thats going to leave robin hurt. they'll have their talks and robin will promise its "nothing like that", but they've grown to like steve so they're sure robin will come to them when shes ready.

now if only there was a reasonable explanation for the middle schoolers that keep showing up. apparently they were also trapped in the fire with robin and steve which helps make some sense of it, but they also sat with them in the hospital. surely if they're having nightmares about the fire they'd go to their parents? they hadn't really talked much with the sinclairs but they seemed like very loving parents and robin follows steve to his little dinners with mrs Henderson pretty often so its not likely that they can't go to their parents about nightmares, but they seem to prefer going to steve specifically. like ringing the Buckley's doorbell at 1 in the morning asking if steves there. and of course they'll let them in and show them to robins room (after calling their parents first, do they even know their childs run off?) where steve was sleeping in a pallet on the floor but is now a glorified blanket pile robins hugging. on her bed, of course. because god forbid theres 2 feet of space between them.

and the kid just joins them in their sleepover pile, dustin usually clinging to steves other side like a baby koala and erica usually finding a spot leaning against robin or occasionally making room in between them

and so more often than not the Buckley's have not one, not two, but three extra children in their house that isn't their daughter, all of them sleeping in a pile on robins bed like theres nowhere else they'd rather be

[unabashednightmarepizza]

Imagine Neuvillette having a cheeky lover, who just enjoys his reactions and lives for making him loose his cool.

He was just so damn cool and powerful, a power to beckon with. Neuvillette was a strong pillar of Fontaine, a protector many looked up to. Even with his stone cold face that didn't give anything away at first glance and caused many men and women's heart to throb, you knew for the better.

Neuvillette was indeed a cutie whenever he got embrassed from your ministrations and hid his red face from all world, mainly you, whenever he had a chance.

This time wasn't any exception as Neuvillette was huddled inside his office, doing paperwork. One might think that this was what he liked doing most of the times by how almost a pleasant face he wore and frequent it was becoming.

But he couldn't have been more bored than he was right at this moment.

As he wrote down his notes and signed the documents, he couldn't help but think back to how lovely and absolutely breathtaking you looked at the morning.

As the true being he was, The Hydro Dragon... who opened up his heart and soul for you to embrace, who was accepted as who he is without a question.

The sunlight was slowly hitting your body and face just in the right way while you laid on his bed peacefully, chest rising up and down with one arm tucked under the soft pillow and the other curled next to your chest. A soft and small smile was on your lips, lightening up his dimmed soul as you laid facing him, making him be able to trace the soft contours of your face with his clawed hand, hair blanketing his scaled torso and your arms...

And how easy it was for you to accept him, as if it was second nature.

Thanks to how he and his kind was perceived, cold and harsh with no care for humans, he had deprieved of himself the beauty of touch. He refused to have that when he didn't deserve love, in his opinion.

How could someone even love a creature like him? Powerless, thought to be dead and even weak but still a danger nonetheless... Who could stay for him in his toughest times when even he didn't understand what he was feeling or thinking?

Therefore, he devoted himself to a long and eternal life of solidarity. He was fully convinced that this was all he could get, and even he was shocked at how the human mind can easily overpower their own self.

Another magnificient mystery of the universe, he would often say and think to himself at the dead of the night while staring into his own reflection and long tail.

Well, these were all before you came and broke everything he thought was right.

Quite literally actually.

"Monsieur Neuvillette, I'm so sorry! I wasn't actually looking where I was going-" you hurriedly tried to gather all the paper that fell on the marble floor from the hands of none other than Neuvillette, the Chief Justice. You absolutely hated, even loathed being in a hurry. It always made you loose track of what you did or said, which resulted in chaos and a life time of embarrassment.

Such as right now.

"It's quite alright, dear Y/N... Are you okay?'" As the gentleman he is, Neuvillette only gave you a worried look, also bending down to help you and prevent you from piercing your knees from the glass shards on the ground as a result of you two's collision. You didn't even realise the glasses you were holding was indeed broken, too occupied with making sure he was okay and not to loose your mind by how much more handsome he looked up close-

"Am-Am I okay? Monsieur, I dropped almost all the cups on you- Oh my! Are you hurt anywhere? Are you bleeding? Come, we need to immediately look for any injury, one of the shards could have pierced you!"

Just as he was about to tell you that it was fine, you didn't have to worry so much, enough to come close to crying and he wasn't hurt at all, a shard pierced his finger through his gloves, making him hiss and almost jump away from you...

Whiiich resulted in a horrified reaction from you.

"Oh the Archons... I'm gonna die. Please hurry, let me treat them!" You mumbled in a daze, quickly pulling yourself together as you took a hold of his hand and made him sit down on one of the chairs outside his office, as if he would faint from a simple scratch. All the while, Neuvillette was in a deep shock at how things turned out as he sat there with his palm facing up, staring at you as only a wisp of your form was visible to eye by how fast you were moving.

He didn't understand why you, even if he had a "crush" on you for the longest time as Furina and Navia often told him, would dote on him and openly show worry. He was a strong individual, apart from being the literal Hydro Sovereign who had all of his powers back, and he definetly didn't need to be coddled like a little kid even if you two were getting closer and closer each day-

"This might sting a bit, but I'll try to be gentle..." You frowned sadly as if the thought alone was enough to make you cry, already feeling bad enough for possibly ruining his busy day with your clumsiness.

And his expressionless face as he stared up at you did nothing to help your nerves.

Neuvillette could feel his gaze on you had become softer, much more gentle as he gazed at your careful hands more. The feeling was foreign to him but not unwelcomed, the pleasant and soft warmth in his heart pulled a small smile out of him which was a rarity by itself. Many would argue that he never smiled or showed any emotions, a man unmoveable and cold as the highest peak of Liyue itself...

Well, you begged to differ right at this moment.

"Why do you care about me so much?" He didn't really mean to sound so rude and harsh with his question, but it was the affect of being by himself all these time, with having only himself to care and patch his wounds.

Even as small as a scratch like the one on his finger.

But it seemed his tone didn't really scare you, as a confused look settled upon your face, brows scrunched together and head tilted to the left.

A frequent thing you did which he finds to be very adorable.

"Why wouldn't I? You deserve to be cared for..." You knew there was a deeper meaning behind his question, his eyes filling with silent tears as a confused gaze settled. Hands fiddling together as he lowered his eyes and gnawed on his soft but slightly chapped lips, probably as a result of his habit of biting on it. He was being slightly vulnerable more than usual, something he had just started to do with you after months of pestering him and convincing him that you meant no threat.

But still, it was cute.... He was cute.

And it brought a different kind of bravery to you, a power that pulled you towards him by his hands, shocking both him and yourself as you rubbed his knuckles softly. Neuvillette's eyes widened noticably, shaking in your hold as the warmth you had slowly got absorbed by his greedy heart and soul that had been all alone by itselves.

Perhaps everyone was right about his feelings of you that he tried to hide, that you were such a sweet and kind person that suited him the best and obviously loved him back.

"Life might not have been kind to you before, Mr.Neuvillette... However, I hope that we were all able to change it even a little bit and that you feel loved and happy." You softly say with a closed-eye smile, head tilted to the side and he knew... He knew you said them whole-heartedly, without any hint of malice or I'll will.

Ba-dump...

All his life, Neuvillette only knew harshness and loneliness. Never once was he ever cared for, coddled up or worried over. He had never seen someone as selfless as you are, as kind as you are and also as persistent as you with a soft and pure heart, and even more pure soul.

Often times, people avoided him at all costs and he too avoided them as long as he didn't have a job to get done with them.

But not you.

You were stubborn to see past that cold mask he had put over his face, the stoic and uncaring mask he had on so that he didn't get attached to anyone deeply and got hurt in the end. You always stuck with him throughout the day, asking him questions or just simply sitting there as he tried to noncholantly answer them with a thundering heart.

You knew the sweets he loved, how he liked his tea and even readied the water he loved before he started working and made sure the container was full.

But none of the sweet gestures would be as meaningful as the one you just did: Openly tell him that you love him and care for him.

Maybe he was being delusional, blinded by his growing feelings for you and having to keep them locked inside himself, but there was one certain thing he knew as he looked up to your precious jewels...

He wasn't. You trully loved him for him, wished to make him happy and wipe that frown away and just make him see the happiness this world could offer... And maybe, you might have muttered your confession under your breath but he couldn't have heard it... Right?

But now, as the cloudy feeling of the questions that was caused by his own insecurities were washed away, there was a much more important question as you waited anxiously in front of him for his reaction and he sweated awkwardly...

What kind of date was the best one to confess to you?

He sighed out tiredly, already planning if anyone would notice him sneaking out of his office, even with his tall posture, at how appealing the thought of being with you, even with how often you teased him with your silly comments and reactions, sounded so nice.

Oh how he wished you were here, he already felt guilty leaving the warm bed you shared because of these papers that absoultely meant nothing and all the stupid people he would have to-

"My love, are you busy? Shall I come in?"

You were trully an angel sent to just him and only him.

Neuvilette's face noticeably softened at the timid voice he heard behind his office door, following soon after a soft knock as his feet already took him to the source. He quickly gave you a kiss on your forehead as soon as he opened the door, his rich perfume filling your nose as a dopey smile stretched your face and you reciproceted with a fond kiss on his lips.

Just being two sickly in love people.

After some time with basking in each other's presence, he sighed out with a half relief and half tiredness as he nuzzled his nose deeper into your neck, his arms thightening around your smaller frame.

"You need not ask, never, love... You are always welcomed, my dear."

You let him lead you to the sofa in his office with a wide smile, where you usually laid after picking up a book and read it while Neuvillette did his job- though you often got distracted by how handsome and absolutely ethereal he looked, how peaceful he seemed after years of stress.

But today, he was different.

His back was more rigid and tense than normal, his eyes were scrunched up more frequently and he sighed almost angrily at any given time so much so that you were worried his dragonic features would come out.

And even his precious water cup alongside its container, one which would always be full to the top, was empty and he never for once tried to grab it.

Yep, it seems he is very irritated and on a knife's edge today...

So, as the amazing significant other you are, you saw the troubled and disheveled state he was in and couldn't help but want to fix it as soon as possible.

And what better way is there than being the cheerful and teasing one you were? That side pulled many reactions out of him after all, and would surely cheer hım up as well!

"Neuvi~"

He immediately lifted his head to look at you with a dumbfounded yet curious look, a smile so bright on his face at just hearing his nickname out of your lips, with the voice he adored the most. He could already feel a little bit of the exhaustion slipping out of his body, his quil on his hand was slowly put aside as his whole attention was turned to you and you only.

"Yes, my dear? What is it-" he said with a soft smile, voice barely covering his happiness but soon trailed off when you got up from your position on the couch, shutting the book you definetly didn't even read a word from and stood in front of his desk with a playful smile.

Oh... Oh! Not this time, he was exhausted and he definetly wouldn't be able to uphold his serious face-

But oh boy, he didn't expect to hear what came out next as his whole face reddened in embarrasment.

"According to the judgement of Oratrice Mecanique D'analyse Cardinale, you have been found guilty..."

You leant over the table teasingly without a care, arching your back more and tilting your head to look down at his piercing yet soft amethyst eyes that widened upon hearing your imitation of his usual commanding voice when he declared the decision of that machine, already anticipating what else you planned with this-this... This flustering and heart picking, breathtaking act of absolute love and playfulness.

"...of being cute~"

Oh how nice it was seeing that redness coating his cheeks...

Neuvillette, to be quite honest, was left slacked jawed, shocked to his core and absoultely flabbergasted with his jaw on the floor. Never in his long and eternal life, did he ever think that his line and the Oratrice itself would be used... To flirt with him.

But he loved it. He loved it so much, his heart beated hard and the air in his lungs were knocked out because it was you.

You, who had stolen his soul and heart all for yourself to never give up on it. You, who had a heart of golden and soul as soft as the Silk Flowers of Liyue.

You, who he called his partner and would continue calling that forever.

You, whom he was ready to sacrifice the world for.

But he didn't realize he had been too silent, enough to make you worry and drop the facade sooner than you anticipated as you looked at him from each side.

"Neuvi? Are you okay? I didn't say something out of li-" you worriedly asked with a hand over his arm, the shocked and frozen expression of his face making you take action, ready to cool him down because the redness that was steadily going towards a purple face couldn't just be normal.

But your lover only smiled like a fool and shook his head, taking a hold of your hand that was smoothing down his hair and rubbing his nape for comfort and laid a kiss on it, before bringing it close to his face.

"Sorry, my love... Your loving eyes had just taken all my words away."

Damn him and his charming words...

You giggled shyly, desperately trying to hide your cheeks from him to save yourself from the embarrasment. Your eyes landed on his inviting lap, all cozy and soft embrace as you slowly pushed him back to straddle him easily, loving and wanting to feel his arms around your frame as your heart was filled with unconditional love that often poured down from the confines of your heart.

All the while, his eyes never left yours as he watched you with dilated pupils, mouth open in awe as you moved around to find a much more comfortable position.

He promised to lay the universe before your feet if you wanted so, after all.

"So, my words didn't even affect you?"

You asked cutely, a hint of disappointment behind your voice as your hand played with the hair he often pushed aside and not clipped back as per your request. Even though he got flustered each time you stroked his hair and he remembered the reasoning you gave him why you wished him to do so, he wasn't going to deny you of anything.

On the other hand, your excuse of "It just gives you another kind of vibe... which makes me want to make out with you." did certain things to him... Which could be often seen on his pants-

"No..?" He hesitantly asked with a raised brow, earning a giggle from you as you pointed to his chest with equally flushed cheeks.

"Then why is your heart beating so hard?"

"It has been that way ever since I met you, my lovely spouse. It's so full of you that I can hardly call it my own."

He flushed suddenly, burying his face to your neck with a groan as he laid open mouthed kisses to divert your attention from the sudden surge of love and shyness he felt from what you said. Nuzzling his face closer to yours, he couldn't help but agree that this cheekiness you only had with him was the best part of his day and life.

Only he got to receive this, it was something only he had and no one else did.

Well, damn the smooth talker...

You could only shake your head in fake disappointment with a loving smile, bonking his head softly with yours in an affectionate move as you tutted at him and kissed the corner of his mouth with a burning face, giving all your love and energy to the tired man and showing how much you liked his words.

"You are such a silly dragon... And as much as I love you, it doesn't mean I won't tease you about this later. For now though? Let's cuddle, you can read those damn papers later."

He trully was a silly dragon deeply in love.

He chuckled under his breath at how much closer you nuzzled to him while pushing the papers away, as if you wanted to become one with his body. Nodding his head as he laid back with you on his lap, a hand rubbing up and down your back, he sighed out in bliss and left his work unfinished for the day, yet another new thing he did after he had gotten together with you.

Just as always, you were right.

And he could live with that, forever, if he had the chance.

[insert-random-account-name]

Crappy Character Analysis, part 5

I struggled with this one, but I think it turned out pretty good. I'm also posting one for Contrarian today, so look out for that. Be sure to check out the previous parts, if you haven't seen them!

part 1 (Broken) part 2 (Skeptic) part 3 (Cold)

part 4 (Paranoid) part 5 (You are here) part 6 (Contrarian)

part 7 (Smitten) part 8 (Opportunist) part 9 (Cheated)

part 10 (Hunted) part 11 (Hero)

VOICE OF THE STUBBORN:

Stubborn is another character who was given more depth in the Pristine Cut, although not as much of an overhaul as Broken, Skeptic, or Smitten. His new scenes in the Fury can be either hilarious (In the Quantum Beak scenes or with the Contrarian) or sad (In any other scene). Stubborn fits perfectly into the archetype of “All brawn, no brains”. Talking during the Adversary infuriates him, since all he wants to do is “Get to fightin’!” This “meathead” attitude also opens him up to manipulation by the Contrarian, who, in the Fury, successfully convinces him to chuck your only weapon out the window. He is completely convinced that you can win any fight, as long as you just hit the Princess hard enough. Even when facing the Fury without a weapon, he straight up says that he “Refuses to go out any way that isn’t kicking and screaming.” Death isn’t enough to keep him down. Even the Narrator, who is usually all for getting violent, tells him to chill with the blood lust, since he fears it will cloud your judgement. However, his new scenes reveal a vulnerability that wasn’t previously shown. For the first time, Stubborn gives up. Before, there were times he would quit, or just fume, but he never gave up. 

Stubborn is born from conflict, and he will die that way too. He enjoys the thrill of victory, and dreads the thought of retreating so much he’d rather die than run. The way you get him is by fighting the Princess even when it is perfectly clear you will not survive the encounter. It’s fighting, not for your life, or for a better world, but for the sake of winning. He fights because conflict is the only thing that has brought him meaning, so why bother doing anything else? That’s why the more battle-ready the Princess is, the more he likes her. He is codependent with the Princess, who is the only one who can provide him with the high he chases after. This is why he’s so compliant in the Wild, because he doesn’t want to imagine a universe where you and the Princess are independent. (And because losing to a thought is weak.) This search for meaning drives his (almost) unconquerable spirit, which gives you the determination to keep standing up, even when you realistically should be dead. While you might argue that Stubborn’s lack of logical thinking is his fatal flaw, I argue that it’s what helps him break reality. The world shapes itself to your perception, meaning that a lack of logic will serve you better, at least for Stubborn’s purposes. Of course, Stubborn isn't stupid, either. In the (Tower) Fury, he learns how to jump worlds, and bounces from reality to reality, shedding unhelpful voices along the way (A line of dialogue from one of the (Explore) options implies that Stubborn intended to leave Broken), until you finally defeat her. This adds him to the very small list of voices who can actually alter the world itself. If his greatest weakness isn’t his illogical manner of thinking, then what is? His refusal to lose. While most of the other voices are willing to die once in an attempt to do things better or gain more information, Stubborn is intent on winning right here, right now. This leads to him “dying” during the unwinding process in the Fury, since he sees it as a battle to be won, and keeps fighting, while the voices who survive (Cold and Broken) simply accept it. I’ve said it in at least half of these, but the Pristine Cut really changed how I viewed a lot of the voices. Stubborn definitely felt more real after playing.