#I have no memory of why this happened and it only happened once

[melbatron5000]

The Big Damn Kiss

Buckle up, my fellow Good Omens Ineffable Mystery Puzzlers, Crackpotters, and Assorted Brainrotters, because I learned something HUGE yesterday.

This will be a bit of a long post, because I want to show you exactly how I got where I am. I want you to understand. I want to put all the naysayers to bed (ha! But I'm still gonna try), and settle this once and for all.

I know (almost) exactly what Crowley gave to Aziraphale during the kiss.

DO NOT TAKE ANY OF MY THEORIES TO NEIL! PLEASE!

Okay? Okay. Thanks. Shall we begin?

Ahem.

Firstly, whether you believe me or not, I am 100% certain that Crowley did, indeed, give something to Aziraphale in his mouth during The Kiss. I've covered that in the link previous. Okay? Okay.

I did not know what it was. I've now heard theories that it was a bullet (nope), a ball bearing (nope), hellfire (nope), and no one, NO ONE has suggested what I see. (If you have, hello! Talk to me!)

Here's our first foreshadowing Clue:

And here's our next foreshadowing Clue:

And the next:

And our last Clue:

With me so far? Well, that first GIF is a bit off, I couldn't find one of Crowley actually spitting out the flies. But he does. When Beelzebub first drags him to Hell, he actually goes "Pleaugh!" and spits out four or five flies.

Moving right along, we come to Crowley in Heaven with Muriel, looking at the trial. We learn two important things here:

One, Gabriel doesn't have a desk.

Two, Muriel does. Where they keep the records. And it's a bit lonely. Every few hundred years, someone comes and asks for something. Muriel can't access the sensitive ones, you have to be pretty high up. A throne, dominion, or higher. Like, maybe Supreme Archangel?

So if Gabriel doesn't have a desk, whose desk is he at when he's getting ready to leave Heaven? Of course I can't find a damn picture of Gabriel at the desk, but it's Muriel's. Where they keep the RECORDS.

Gabriel puts his memory into the fly, then gets on the elevator to go to Earth.

Now, when Gabriel opens the fly with his memories inside, we find out that it's a container. Bigger on the inside. You can put thing(S) in it. The bit we see of him remembering is shot in two parts, one where he's flying down a red tunnel, one where he's flying down a blue. If you slow this scene down and watch, you can see that he is NOT looking at just his own memories. There is more going on here, more that he was not present for. @embracing-the-ineffable put up a great meta about that here. Go look!

Now I figured Gabriel must have taken something else. Something important. Something useful. Something he meant to give to Aziraphale, except he forgot.

I also figured he must have left whatever it was in the fly when he took his memories out. Crowley must have realized while watching the trial footage that Gabriel also grabbed something else. I don't know when Crowley grabs the fly, but he does. And that is what he gives to Aziraphale in the kiss. Why? Well.

I had no idea what Gabriel took until I started working on the chiastic structure of season 2. I'm not done with that analysis yet, but let me show you one thing that I have found so far:

(The numbers are just to try and help me navigate the story and its events without time stamps)

My note #357 of what happens isn't quite right, but when I saw the only two times Aziraphale says "I forgive you" are towards the beginning of Season 2 and towards the end, I realized I had something.

Rephrase line 357: Crowley's kiss is forgiven IN EXCHANGE FOR RECORDS.

(Not that I think Crowley's kiss needs to be forgiven. It's just what Aziraphale says, and had to say at that moment, because the Metatron was listening in.)

What does Heaven in Good Omens remind us of most of all?

A big corporate entity. And what do powerful people do when they get fired from a big corporate entity? They download all their emails while they're cleaning out their desks. Damning emails. Emails that can be used to black mail or even destroy big corporate entities. Or, ya know, maybe they swipe some sensitive RECORDS?

Oh yes.

Records that Gabriel meant to give to Aziraphale, but he forgot. Records that Crowley realized Gabriel had put in the fly. The fly that Crowley grabbed once Gabriel had his memory out. The fly that he gave to Aziraphale when he kissed him. The fly that no longer held Gabriel's memory, but did still contain those damning records.

Here's Aziraphale reading the records:

Here's Aziraphale being horrified and outraged by what he's reading:

And here's Aziraphale realizing he has got some GOOD DIRT on Heaven. Maybe enough to bring them down:

That's it folks. I have no idea what the records actually say, and maybe we're not meant to know until season 3, but whatever it is, it's GOOD.

That's my story, and by God Herself, I'm sticking to it.

[shadow4-1]

I'm just imagining an a/b/o dynamic where the entire 141, including you, are all Alphas. Except, after a few years of such close contact something starts to shift.

You start to become an Omega.

"Why is this happening to me?" You all but wail. It hurts to breathe, everything feels like it's on fire. Your stomach twists again, painful cramps shooting white hot lighting up your spine. "Why does it hurt so bad?"

Your pack is all around you, trying to soothe you in anyway they can but it's not working. Everything hurts, your teeth feel like they're going to crack from how tight you have them gritted. The wave of pain ebbs for a few gracious seconds before starting up all over again. You whine and sob and reach out for any of your team.

"Whats going on?" Price huffs, his cool hand cupping at your face. His touch is the barest relief even as he drags down one of your lower eyelids. He tuts in an intense concern. "Simon, have you seen this before?"

The larger male drops to one knee. He gives you a quick once over before dipping his head towards yours. He presses the front of his mask to the crown of your head. Through your labored panting you barely hear him take in a deep inhale of scent.

He coughs and stands back up too quickly. Judging by his flighty gaze, something is seriously wrong. Another tremor of pain wracks your body. You open mouth squeal. It's getting so much worse.

"Simon!" Soap growls, trying to bring his fellow alpha back from whatever memory he'd fallen into. "What's wrong wit' 'er?"

"She's turning into an Omega."

Everyone in the room turned their gazes towards Ghost, even you, despite your pain. You? An Omega? But you've always been and Alpha. It was part of the necessary requirements to be a part of the 141. You'd been genetically tested, hormonally tested, and aptitude tested. You were a full blooded Alpha coming from generations of Alphas.

"There's...ngh...no way." You hiccup out, tears blurring your vision.

"That doesn't make any sense. That can't happen." Gaz adds. He rubs at your back. His cool touch soothes even more of your pain into a dull throb, but it isn't enough.

"M' n' Alpha!" You cry out in anguish, the first of many tears finally dripping down your cheeks.

Something about Ghost's words hurt worse than any pain your body was making you go through. Try as you may to deny it, he was right. You could feel your body changing, altering, breaking and bending.

"Why is this happening to me?" You wail.

"There's too many of us." Ghost huffs, he glances around at your pack.

"Why does that matter?" Soap grumbles, scooping an arm around your center to pull you up into a sitting position. "We're a pack."

"That's just it." Ghost sighs tiredly.

"I've never heard of this being 'n issue." Price butts in. He grabs your face again and brushes the tears off your cheeks. "Task Forces are fully Alpha run. They 'ave been for years."

"If what Ghost is saying is right, it's biological, Captain." Gaz huffs, his thoughts visibly racing. "Too many Alphas, not enough Omegas. It means we'd go extinct."

"But why didn't she change earlier?" Johnny asks. You teeter in his hold but he keeps you upright. He lets you lean against his chest. He smells more comforting than usual.

"It's hormonal. She's been with us almost three years now, it takes time." Ghost says. Price nods in agreement.

"I'm an Alpha!" You sob, trying wrench yourself free from the multiple men around you. "I- I don't want to be bred. I don't want to be claimed! I'm an Alpha!"

"We're know you are, Love." Price breathes softly. He continued to wipe tears away from your face with a tenderness that only makes your despair swell further. "But this is happening, and we can't stop it."

"Take me to sick bay, please. They'll...they'll put me on blockers or something! Please, anything but this! I don't want to be an Omega."

The pack looks toward Ghost but he shakes his head.

"This is you first heat. The blockers will kill you."

You scream in pain, fear, and frustration. Another wave of excruciating pain washes over you. You wrench out of Soap's grip and fall against the floor. The tile is cool against your flushed skin.

As much as you hate him for it, Ghost is right.

This is your first heat.

Your back arches off the floor. Your toes curl and you squeal, shaking, gasping, panting hot breaths. You can feel yourself start to sweat. There's a sudden gush of wetness between your thighs. Embarrassment floods you. You try to curl into a ball but your body keeps being wracked with tremors.

"H-help me..." You cry out weakly, sobbing into the tile.

Your pack seems to finally get a whiff of your fluctuating scent. All around you, you watch as one by one each of their gazes grow more and more pointed. All of you know what must be done. After all, you're an Omega now.

...and there's no going back.

[saltwatergirl6]

taking what’s not yours

jason grace x neptune!reader

masterlist

a/n: this is based on a song called “taking what’s not yours” by tv girl, i’ve never really done a heavily song-inspired fic so i hope u guys like this. if u guys actually like this, i’ll write a pt 2 <33

i don't really know if she cares or not, all i know is she left a lot of stuff in my apartment, she’s never getting back

before jason’s sudden disappearance, everything was perfect, maybe too perfect, and maybe that’s why it got taken away.

you two were new into your relationship, after years of hopelessly pining over each other.

but it just had to happen.

he had to disappear for months and come back with only the memory of your name, nothing else, not the smell of the salt water that occupied everyone’s senses when you walked by or the laugh only he could get out of you by being his real self.

but something was missing, that look in his eyes were missing, it was reserved for someone else, her, not you.

thoughts of who you were occupied jason’s mind, you were a mystery to him, a case that hasn’t been solved yet.

he remembered your name on the bus back at the grand canyon, when he didn’t even remember his own age, you must’ve been important, right?

a best friend, perhaps?

no, something deeper than that.

as these thoughts raced in his mind, he layed down on his perfectly made bed and pillows that smelled like the ocean breeze, the breeze he smelled when you ran up to hug him when he first landed to new rome with his friends.

and as the smell on my pillow fades,her cigarettes might stay, like a roman colosseum, a dry and worthless monument to our love.

everything reminded him of you, but then he saw an unfamiliar vintage camera on his nightstand.

it was decorated with blue star stickers.

he was surprised that it still worked.

he turned it on with an ease, even though he didn’t remember ever owning a camera.

he finally managed to see the previous pictures in the camera.

there you were, next to him, laughing as you looked at him, you looked so easy together, so simple, yet so in love.

his bright blue eyes were glued on you, jason noticed how happy he looked in the picture.

then the camera snapped to the next picture, and it suddenly made him realise something.

a picture of you and him kissing was plastered on the screen, he wondered who even managed to take these pictures.

he was in love with you.

now he actually needed some rest to realise everything. wasn’t he supposed to love piper? isn’t that not what the gods above wanted?

ooh, i still have your lighter, ooh, i still have your book, ooh, i still have everything you brought, but you never took

but it wasn’t about the gods for once, it was about you. as he turned the camera off and turned back to put it on the nightstand, he found a familiar, from jupiter knows where, copy of 1984 by george orwell on the nightstand.

he also noticed some seashell jewellery that only a certain person would wear.

the book didn’t look new, it was annotated and the paperback had chirped slightly.

as he opened the paperback, he saw a written on it.

“dear jason, hope you love this book just as much as i love you, y’know where to find me to discuss it afterwards <3

love, y/n (not)”

he did.

he knew where to find you, he remembered you, and he would come find you, but not yet, he had to make things right first.

you know where to find me, and I know where to look.

[xrenjunniesx]

May we continue to love forever

bf!haechan

fluff, mentions of murder jokes

word count : 1,341

In moments like these where you let yourself delve into your thoughts. Staring out the window as the train began to start up again, slowly chugging down the rail road, you found yourself thinking of how you became so lucky to meet the guy that sat right next to you.

It was cliche, really. He ran into you when talking to his friends and proceeded to get lost in your eyes as he apologised. You two talked for hours after that first meeting, he left his friends just so he could go and get to know the girl he fell for.

His soft brown hair soon was dyed black and you fell for him all over again - even when you two had been dating for months at this point.

It was times when you least expected it, that you would fall in love with him all over again.

When the wind would be blowing your hair back, messing it up in the process but he would just stare loving at you and brush the hair behind your hair so it didn’t bother you so much.

You always thought about that moment. The way your heart fluttered and you felt your face heat up, it always brought a small smile to your face.

You felt a tap on your thigh, “Babe, this is our stop.” You looked towards Haechan and quickly stood up, following after him as he walks off the train.

“What would you do without me.” He spoke in a teasing manner, passing you your bag - which you had forgotten about completely.

“I would be perfectly fine without you.” It wasn’t a lie. It just so happened that whenever you were with him, you became so relaxed that you forgot things that you wouldn’t normally forget. You knew he would be there for you to pick up on the things you forgot.

“So why did you want to come here?” He asked, stuffing his hands into his puffer jackets pockets.

“It’s a surprise.” You smile at the boy and begin to walk in front of him to lead the way. He followed behind you, a love struck smile plastered onto his face despite the icy winds that had the both of you shivering even in the warmest jackets you had.

“Did we have to come down near the ocean on a day like this? I’m going to freeze to death.” He complains after a few minutes of walking in peacefully silence. It was a quiet area, but with the weather it was even more quiet. People chose to stay inside the warmth on days like this. Not the two of you though.

You were sure that Haechan would love to go back home now, but you were determined to show him the surprise. It would be worth it once you get there

“Don’t start complaining now, Hyuck, we will get there soon.”

“Gosh, why is there no people around-“ he paused and you heard his teeth chattering for a moment before he continued. “You’re taking me to a murder spot aren’t you? Is this why you were so eager? Is my death the surprise.”

You stopped walking and began to laugh at the boy. He stopped next to you, a lazy grin across his face.

“No Haechan, I don’t want to murder you, at least not here.”

“Why? I think this would be a lovely place to die.” You sigh at his words, beginning to walk again.

“Let’s not talk about such matters when I’m quite literally taking you to a place of pure happiness.”

“is it my grave-“

“Haechan!” You shouted, looking at him only to see him avoiding your gaze and laughing to himself.

The two of you arrive at a local restaurant. As you stepped inside, memories seemed to come back to Haechan. His eyes widened and he grabbed ahold of your jacket.

“No way… you found this place.”

“I didn’t. Mark said he had been here and I wanted to surprise you.”

Haechan stared in awe as he looked around the same restaurant that he had only seen in movies and dramas. The same restaurant that he for some reason was never able to find the address off.

As the two of you followed a waiter to a table, you felt Haechan grabbing ahold of your hand. He interlocked your fingers for a brief second, giving your hand a squeeze before letting go when the waiter looked back to speak to you.

The both of you sat down and looked at the menu. it was a quiet family owned restaurant that left Haechan in awe. He took in the beautiful layout and the romantic lighting the place had. Plus the heating in here made it a perfect moment for him.

He took off his jacket and looked towards you while you read the names of the dishes that you were interested in getting. You weren’t doing anything special in that moment, simply sitting there and reading a menu, and yet Haechan fell in love with you all over again.

He lifted his phone up, aiming the camera at you and quickly snapping a picture. The clicking sound caught your attention and you look up from the menu to see the boy giggling to himself as he looked at his phone.

“Did you really take a picture of me?” You say, placing the menu down on the table, unable to hide the smile slowly growing on your face.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” He says, putting his hands up. “I just think you look very pretty right now.”

You blushed and quickly looked away from his eyes, picking the menu back up and telling him to pick a dish. He chuckles at you but never the less listens to what you said.

The both of you eat your meals rather quietly, simply enjoying the atmosphere and the gentle music that played in the background. The cloudy blue sky became darker as the night rolled in and the sun set.

“I want to stay here tonight.” Haechan says, sinking back into his chair. He looks over at you, staring into your eyes that were growing tired.

“I should book us a hotel room.” He says, picking up his phone.

You reach over the table and push his phone down a bit. “We don’t have any extra clothes on us.”

Haechan shrugs his shoulders. “We can always buy some tomorrow, or tonight quickly before stores start to close.”

You sigh and say, “You really don’t want to go back home?”

He shakes his head, reaching across the table to grab a hold of your hands. “I want to stay with you all night in a place as beautiful as this town.”

You chuckle at his words, “You’ve only really seen this store, what do you mean this town.”

“I’m sure the town is as beautiful as you are.” You want to laugh at his over the top flirting but you decide to delve into it. He loved complimenting you, even if it was in the more embarrassing way possible.

“and if it’s ugly?” You say, raising an eyebrow expectantly at him.

“then it’s because you’re too beautiful that everything else becomes ugly.”

You roll your eyes and stand up, ready to go pay for the meal. He leaps from the chair and almost trips you as he rushes past you to pay for it.

“You paid for the train tickets, I’ll pay for the meal and the hotel room.”

you couldn’t deny the offer and decided to let him pay for the meal.

As the two of you put your jackets on and stepped outside into the freezing cold air, you hear Haechan say in a light manner,

“You know, you should’ve lied when you said Mark found this place. It’s less romantic knowing he found it.”

You scoff out a laugh and shove the boy. “Shut up and get a hotel room, it’s too cold out here.”

[violetasteracademic]

On Mate Behavior: Elriel (Part Two- Scent)

Another day of an SJM Instagram jump scare with more stories and no book accouncement (though I am HAPPILY celebrating indie bookstore day with you all!)- So it's another day to be on my Elriel shit. Will we still want posts like this once the announcement is out and we are done fighting for our lives? I feel like the announcement is coming soon so I need to sneak in all my thoughts!

In my previous analysis, I highlighted a moment that would have been perfect for Azriel to display some mate-like behavior towards Gwyn, and it was sorely lacking. You can catch up on that post here!

Today I would like to discuss another area lacking in mate behavior in the BC between Azriel and Gwyn, but present for... drumroll... Elriel. And that is scent.

Bringing back Nessian's bonus chapter to start the parallels, because I do think an additional bonus lends itself to the fairest basis for comparison (also if I used book examples from ToG to CC regarding romantic parings/mates and scent I'd be here for several hundred years):

Cassian is so lost in Nesta's scent that he had to stop himself from letting his eyes roll back into his head while breathing her in. This... sounds familiar:

Azriel's eyes also nearly rolled into the back of his head because of Elain's scent.

As previously mentioned, scent plays a huge role in mates/romantic pairings. I was chatting with my friend @faeprincesswarrior when I first started thinking about the scent thing, and she remembered that Rhys could smell Feyre's scent before they even met. He would wake up with her scent in his nose. Cassian and Azriel both can hardly control themselves when they take in the scents of Nesta and Elain.

Scent plays an important role in romantic pairings, and is honestly probably one of the things SJM lays on the thickest throughout the entirety of her multiverse and she has a tendency to drop it early on, often as an initial indicator. Yes, sometimes scenting is platonic, but Gwyn and Az don't even have that on page. There is simply no mention of scent in their portion of the chapter, but it is heavy in Elain's section.

*Crescent City 3 Spoiler* Even when Ithan is done with all his side quests and spends just a few moments with Perry, he's suddenly like mmm... strawberries and cinnamon. No other indicator of mate behavior there but MANY readers only needed that little nugget to be like- something's cooking here.

Again, in addition to Azriel's lack of response to directly recalling Gwyn's assault from his POV on page- something I would have liked to see to indicate feelings could be brewing there- there is also zero mention or indication that Azriel experiences Gwyn's scent at all. Even something small, like "a shift in her scent" at his arrival, or noticing a change in her scent from her flash of memory as well (as it happened between Nesta and Cassian.)

Azriel lost his mind over Elain's scent in their bonus chapter, just as Cassian lost his mind over Nesta's scent in theirs.

Azriel makes no mention of Gwyn's scent in the BC. It's as if to him, she doesn't even have one.

I want Azriel and Elain to be together because Azriel and Elain want to be together. They experience what romantic pairings experience together, and it is delicious.

I love Gwyn, which is why I think if she is going to have a romance in the future, she deserves more than a regifted necklace and a male who is drowning in the scent of another female's kitty and doesn't even notice what Gwyn smells like. This is really what we want for her?

Hoping for a book announcement soon. Do you guys like seeing Sarah post more? I have mixed feelings. Part of me thinks it is gearing up for an announcement which is exciting. Part of me also is tired of the jump scares and wants complete silence unless it is a book announcement. Judge me if you must!

[oathkeeper-of-tarth]

So, I'm curious: What's your take on Aylin's experience after/if she kills Lorroakan?

Allegedly, there's some information floating around somewhere that said Aylin was angry with Selune after she killed Lorroakan, but I can't find where this info is.

If you saw posts about that here on tumblr it was probably posted by @justanotherignot! I've actually been meaning to gather up all the devnote tidbits about Selûne from Aylin and Isobel for a while now, so thank you for the excuse to do so and ramble a bit.

Player: I was just wondering what it was like in that cage of Balthazar's. Aylin: Let us not dwell on those dark days. Their memory is a vortex within my heart that leads directly to the Hells.

What is happening is, well, it's the century of unthinkable horror catching up to her. It's the Trauma(TM) - in one of the conversation options she's literally triggered by the mention of someone being run through repeatedly! It's the growing awareness that although she's been freed (and possibly reunited with her love), the secret is out and there are always going to be assholes gunning for her, aiming to use her as an "artefact" and power source to fuel their ambitions, without any regard for her, you know... basic personhood and well-being. Also, Lorroakan was blatantly lying. He didn't find any super special way to siphon her immortality with "no harm, no pain of any kind", he was just replicating Balthazar's soul cage (you can even find a letter from Ketheric to him, showing Lorroakan was pestering them).

On to the stuff from the game files! First, the conversation with Aylin directly after the Lorroakan fight in the tower. I'm going to be putting the context notes in square brackets next to the lines they apply to. I also plucked some audio out from the files for some of these because I love the delivery.

Aylin: The fire-haired fool is dead. Yet as I stare upon his corpse, I feel… sadness. Why? [Slow and curious, angry and confused by all that has happened.] Player: What kind of sadness is it? / I know something of sadness - or at least the ballads do. What does it feel like? Aylin: A gripping in the chest. As though I'd lost someone, something. [Lost in thought for a moment; confused.] Aylin: A paladin's fatigue, no doubt. You were excellent in battle, as is your way. And I am proud to fight at your side. [Remembering herself. She is Dame Aylin.] Aylin: I will catch my breath, then to camp I will bring my bones. Moonmaiden be with you. Player: Smiting is a weighty duty - sometimes it can be tiring. / Perhaps smiting has lost its pleasures. Aylin: Say it can't be so. For I am Selûne's sword. And ever must be. [She means it, but on the periphery of her consciousness is a tiny crack. Wondering about her fate.]

The above never fails to get me - she is Dame Aylin! Sword of the Moonmaiden! Glorious immortal paladin, champion of a righteous cause! She smites evil-doers for breakfast, that's, like, her whole thing! What do you mean she can't just pick up where she left off and go about her merry smitey way? What do you mean the thing that is supposed to be the literal core of her entire being (forever) doesn't feel good and glorious anymore, but just makes her feel sad and empty? No, no, no, we can't have that.

Player: One of the greatest tragedies of revenge is that it can only be taken once. / Because you won't get to kill him again? Aylin: Perhaps. Yet if I could run him through a thousand times, I wonder-- [Lost in thought, she's been triggered to remember her own fate being run through over and over.] Aylin: Battle has tired my mind, made me susceptible to flights of fancy. You were excellent in battle, as is your way. And I am proud to fight at your side.

Aylin: I will return to camp shortly. I just need a moment to… to… [Lost in thought.]

She so very desperately needs some rest and a chance to come to terms with everything that happened and that was done to her. And it's clear it's going to be hard because she is defaulting to trying to deny anything is wrong, is clearly trying (and failing) to just be her old self immediately, has blatantly internalised a lot of that classic I Am A Sword stuff on top of everything (even though her mother is huge on free will and choice!), and is just really not well-equipped to handle any of this at all.

Next, this is the post-Lorroakan convo you get if you have both Aylin and Isobel in camp.

Aylin: Ah. Ally mine. We are reunited once more. [Warm, but drained. She's not feeling like herself.] Aylin: I was just regaling sweet Isobel with tales of our prowess. Isobel: Very impressive. Thank you for helping Aylin - that wizard sounded absolutely dastardly. [Good humored. Soft in tone. A little uncertain - she's not sure why Aylin isn't herself.] Player: My pleasure. He had it coming. Aylin: He did, and it came. Now, my friend: bask in your victory. I will do the same. Aylin: But fear not: when the time comes for you to face the foe of foes, Isobel and I will stand by your side. [Rallying her soldierly spirit, but still a little drained.] Isobel: We wouldn't miss it. Not for anything. Aylin: Go well, friend. We will see you soon. And with our great powers combined, this city will be saved. Player: Hopefully he'll be the last. Aylin: There are always more bastards behind bastards. But we will run through them all, each by each.

Player: I hope you can rest easy now, Dame Aylin. Aylin: I always do, with darling Isobel by my side. Aylin: Enjoy the spoils of your victory. Spin memories of Lorroakan's death in your mind like silkfloss.

If Isobel isn't there (meaning she died in Act 2), you get this version:

Aylin: Ah. Ally mine. We are reunited once more. [Warm, but drained. She's not feeling like herself.] Aylin: I was just reviewing our fight against foul Lorroakan; your moves and mine. The victory was soundly won. Aylin: Don't you think? [Uncharacteristically, Aylin is seeking input. She's usually so confident about everything, but killing Lorroakan has not had the intended effect on her.] Player: Indeed I do. Let his demise serve as a warning to anyone else who'd seek you out. Aylin: Let him be the last. If my dear mother has any mercy, she will ensure it. [Trying to stay her usual self, but her mask is cracking a tiny bit here. Privately, Aylin is dealing with a great deal of anger toward her mother, the goddess Selûne, But she's not yet willing to face it. How could her powerful mother let all this happen to her?]

Player: We fought well - though I was a little worried about you afterward, in truth. Aylin: Set your mind at ease, my friend. Dame Aylin is more well now than she has been this past century. [Good humored. Soft in tone. A little uncertain - it's true she's better now than she has been, but why does she feel so shitty, then? (She's in the beginning of reckoning with the trauma of what happened to her).]

Player: I hope you can rest easy now, Dame Aylin. Aylin: Yes. I wish for the very same. Aylin: Enjoy the spoils of your victory. Spin memories of our prowess in your mind like silkfloss.

So, a few things pop out for me here. First, you get the more explicit anger at Selûne if Isobel isn't there, as opposed to the "hahah, I will smite all the bastards who dare come after me, no matter how many there are" line. "How could her powerful mother let all this happen to her?" just... damn, hits hard, even if you subscribe to the theory that Selûne simply could not intervene in the Shadowfell imprisonment beyond sending those poor people whose graves you find in front of the mausoleum.

And here Aylin really lays it on thick with the denial that there's anything wrong at all. Combined with the letter you get from her in the epilogue if Isobel is dead, it just paints such a bleak, sad picture. I can just see her going all out on the Sword of Selûne duty-bound paladin side of things, no rest, no healing, no stopping even for a moment, no dealing with anything at all, from the trauma to the bitterness towards mum. Until whatever horrible breaking point comes, a year or a century from now. The need for Isobel's humanising influence is so clear. I've touched on Isobel's side of things here.

Speaking of having a bone to pick with Selûne, if you're playing as a cleric/paladin of Selûne, you can get some extra very honest dialogue with Isobel in Last Light:

Player: Why has the Moonmaiden waited until now to take an interest in this curse? Isobel: Maybe she was waiting for one of us to find this place ourselves. Free will, and all that.

Isobel: Though if it were my place to ask why she let Ketheric turn; why she allowed this village to rot at his hands - believe me, I would. [A cold edge in her voice]

Player: Are you faring all right? It can't be easy holding a lone candle in such darkness. Isobel: All things with her strength. You know the litany. [A little sarcastically. She's got a bone to pick with Selûne but isn't being too overt.]

Side note: the amount of devnotes for Isobel's lines that say she's delivering them "with swagger" and being "cheeky" makes me smile every time. Love her. Love her snark.

Also, to get it out of the way: no, I'm fairly sure Aylin did not break her oath. I see this brought up a ton and I just see no way for it to be the case. There is nothing to suggest this outside of a wording similarity and it just makes no sense. Girl is clearly some flavour of Oath of Vengeance (she uses Abjure Enemy, so this is the case even mechanically, even though she's obviously an NPC and not a standard player-build paladin) and she killed a very shitty guy who was also explicitly after her in godawful ways. You can do far worse things in the game than her dramatic speech and backbreaker and not break you OoV.

[oceansssblue]

Pairing: Platonic Therapist Echo and Omega.

Theme: Hurt/Comfort

I don't have an exact sentence, but this happens after Season 3 Episode 8. Omega expresses that she endured worse on Kamino than on Tantiss. Much worse.

During a subsequent talk between Omega and Echo, Omega alludes to how dark, and horrific, her past on Kamino is.

I understand if you're unsure about doing this, but I would absolutely love it if you did.

Non romantic oneshots aren't really my thing, but this request did lit up interesting ideas in my head, so why not?

One angsty heartfelt conversation with these two sweethearts coming right up, & some comfort too!

Hope it is what you imagined!

Xx,

Sky.

"QUIET NIGHTS"

TBB REQUESTS –NON ROMANTIC ECHO&OMEGA 📩💔💖

WARNINGS: REFERENCES TO DARKNESS, LONELINESS, KAMINO&TANTISS&ECHO'S TRAUMATIC EXPERIENCE. TECH LIVES BECAUSE I SAY SO.

It was one of those quiet nights. Crosshair was out on a date. Tech had dissapeared with Phee hours ago; Hunter had quickly retired to his bunk after experiencing a strong migraine, and Wrecker was sound asleep too. However, Omega couldn't find her own sleep; and quickly taking a glance at his brother's room, he saw that Echo couldn't either.

Her naked toes quietly advanced in the direction of the cockpit. There he was; Echo sitting in the copilot's seat and staring distractedly through the window, out to the stars on Pabu's peacefull night. By the expression on his face, Omega knew his mind felt anything but that; Echo's frown transforming his features into something painfull. She wondered if he was having nightmares too.

"Bad memories?" She quietly asked, jumping onto the pilot seat besides him.

Echo sighed, still staring at the stars.

"Yeah" was his only quiet answer, and Omega gave him time.

She thought on her own nightmares for several minutes; trying to reorganize her thoughts.

"Are you having trouble sleeping after Tantiss?" Echo then asks, finally turning in his chair to pay her undivided attention.

Omega shrugs.

"Kinda".

Echo's features fill with sympathy.

"Must have been horrible, being trapped in there" Echo shudders, remembering his own experiences with closed spaces.

To his surprise, Omega shrugs again.

"Not really" she answers, strangely unbothered. "I mean, it's not like I wanted to be there... But I've had it much worse".

Echo stares at her, and Omega feels like she needs to explain herself. Her feet come up to rest on the edge of the seat, chin resting on top of her knees. She's unconsciously making herself small.

"Kamino. That was worse than everything".

Silence fills the room.

Echo frowns. He had had his own fair of bad experiences with the long-necks and the way he and his brothers were treated; but that being worse than being on Imperial control?

"How so?" He carefully asks.

Omega's answer breaks his heart.

"Loneliness. My days in Kamino were dark and challenging; same in Tantiss. But at least while staying in Tantiss I knew I had you, even if you weren't there. In Kamino, before I met you all..." she pauses and flinches with the memories of her past. "I didn't have that. Didn't have the knowledge that you'd be waiting for me, looking for me. That I had someone on my side. That someone cared. That I wasn't alone. In Tantiss I remembered all the happy memories I had with you all. It gave me hope. In Kamino... It was terryfying being so alone".

Omega hadn't meant to say as much; but once she had started talking, the words had flied out of her mouth. Echo's patient and listens carefully; eyes filling with understanding and left hand slowly extending towards her. When it lands on her shoulder and squeezes gently, Omega relaxes and sighs. Her big eyes turn back towards him.

"Did you..." she hesitates. "Did you feel alone when you were with the Techno Union, Echo? Or you... didn't feel anything at all?"

Echo's experience has always been a banned theme of conversation in the Marauder; but Omega asks with no malice, almost begging for someone to understand her, and Echo feels like she's revealed so much of her own feelings and thoughts he kinda owes it to her. He loves her sister so much... If sharing trauma will make her feel better and help her process her memories best, he'd tell her anything she asked for.

"I did, yeah" the tremble that breaks througj his body at remembering is inevitable. "I wasn't conscious all the time, but in the middle of the dizzyness and confussion, i remember being scared and terrified. I didn't understand what was happening most of the time. Sometimes I did. I just wanted to go back to my brothers, out of that... Thing, to be freed. To be me. Loneliness is one of the worst feelings in the world, yes."

It somehow soothes some internal part of him, speaking it out loud. Maybe this conversation will serve them both good.

Omega reaches out and mimicks his previous gesture; squeezing his shoulder gently.

"I'm sorry you had to go through all that, Echo. I'm so happy I have all of you now..." her voice is soft and reverent.

Sadness dissappears from Echo's eyes. He looks at her; at how her features have morphed from a kid's to a teenager and then continued changing to a young woman. They're lucky to have her.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that too, Meg" he answers, quietly, gently.

He gives her a small smile, and stands up offering his hand to her.

"How about we both try to nap together, troublemaker?"

Omega smiles. It feels him with warmth.

"Alright" she agrees, slipping her hand onto his and walking with him in the direction of the bunk room. "A pair of hours is better than none. Cross won't be happy we invade his bed for the night, though".

Echo snorts.

"The motherfucker still complains about his perfectly comfortable bed when he's well aware I still sleep in a hammock" he mutters, then grins at her. "He'll be alright".

THE END.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Pretty short but I didn't feel the need to expand it longer. Feelings everyonee. Hope you liked it!

Xx,

Sky.

PS. cryptic pregnancy w Hunter coming up next!

Back to my main masterlist here:

[jaelvr]

Like crazy

Home | NCT 127 masterlist |

Requested : no

Prompts ; 57. “I’m just tired of this. I’m tired of it all.” + 65. “You know I wouldn’t call unless I was in pain.”

Pairing : ex! Mark x reader

Pronouns : you/yours

Type : angst, fluff, suggestive

Word count : 3.3k

Warnings : confused feelings, exes to ???, frat! au, fluff, slightly ooc, mentions/use of weed + alcohol !!

Have a great day !! 

——————————

"You know I wouldn't call unless I was in pain." Mark huffed, a gentle and genuine tone to his voice. He knew exactly how to pull on your strings every time. "Alright, alright." you gave in, running a hand through your hair as you sighed down the phone. "I'll be there in five." you murmured, humming as you heard him thanking you before hanging up. You pulled your trainers on and the slightly worn hoodie he'd given you last year on, trying to ignore the weird feeling in your gut. It wasn't anything new with Mark getting into fights. Except this time, it had been with another member of his basketball team, refusing to tell you who or why the fight had happened.

You'd reached his dorm in just under five minutes, and he answered the door almost immediately. "I didn't disturb you, did I?" he asked sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck as he stepped aside to let you in. "'s fine." you lied, biting your tongue as you tried to ignore how attractive he was looking like always after practice. "Where does it hurt?" you murmured, sitting on his sofa once you'd taken your shoes off, ignoring the flashbacks of what happened on the sofa last time you were over. He removed his jersey, showing the slight cut on his arm and the bruises. The light in the living room made his face more clear, a ring around his eye that would soon turn black now more visible. "Mark.." you sighed, your thumb running across his cheek subconsciously, swallowing the lump in your throat when you felt him nuzzle into your hand.

Sure, he could deal with these himself, but there was something in him, a part of him, that craved your gentle touch. It desired you to take care of him, to baby him like you always used to. You didn't miss the mix of lust and longing in his eyes as he watched you carefully tend to him, cleaning his cuts and applying ointment to his bruises. You felt yourself giving in, the butterflies swarming your stomach and the fuzzy feeling consuming you every time your eyes met each others.

And you didn't pull away as he leaned in, connecting your lips once again.

----

"..Hey." the voice spoke as you filled your cup back up in the kitchen, away from the group in the living room. You nodded at him, acknowledging his presence. "You really need to stop following me." you spoke, a small smirk on your face as you looked at him. "And why would that be? I can't follow my love wherever they go?" He smirked back, leaning against a kitchen counter next to you and crossing his arms as he stood close to you. "Since when was I yours again?" you shot back teasingly, downing what was in your cup for confidence before facing your ex again. "It's obvious, isn't it? You can deny it all you want, but you are mine, mine, mine." He joked, leaning even closer to you now as he put a hand on your hip, his voice just a low whisper at this point as his grin widened to match yours. "Especially after what happened the other night." he murmured, forehead against yours.

"We agreed not to talk about that." you murmured, wrapping your arms around his neck and toying with the ends of his mullet. "I know, but the memory just seems to keep replaying in my head over and over again." He teased, hand still on your hip as he held you tighter against him and his voice was just as low as before. "I swear, hearing you moan like that will be forever ingrained in my brain." He murmured, tilting your head back just slightly and whispering some more right into your ear. "Mark.." you murmured, a warning in your tone which only encouraged him. "Do you know how tempting it is, to have my love stand right in front of me like this right now?" He murmured, hands moving up your body now and squeezing your hips as his breath hit your neck. "Do you know how much I want to just pin you to this counter and-" he cut off what he was about to say, smirking at you.

"Stop it. We can't." you shook your head, biting your lip to hold your moan in, refusing to give in easily. The pair of you knew exactly what would happen and you refused to let the cycle repeat yet again. "Can't? Or don't want to?" he murmured, his breath still against your neck as his hands squeezed your hips tighter. "I think it's pretty obvious we both want it, baby. So why don't we just go ahead and give in already and have some fun?" He murmured, whispering some more now against your ear and nipping at it with his teeth too. "We…we shouldn't-" you started, a soft whimper escaping your lips and a hand instantly getting tangled into his hair. "Oh, but baby, we should" he murmured, tugging on your hair as his hand moved to caress your side and squeeze your hip even further to get a reaction from you. "It's not like either of us will regret it later on. All we'd probably regret is not doing it sooner." he mumbled, mouth moving to kiss your neck once before returning to whisper another sentence to you. "So why don't I just lift you up and-"

he was going to be the death of you.

----

It had happened again. And again and again and again. You were both at another party being held within his frat house, messily making out in the darkened hallway. The pair of you were doing your usual routine, making out every so often when it was just the two of you. Things would always feel awkward afterwards, but both you and Mark knew that there was no point in trying to deny each other's desires. You both wanted it, didn't you? So now here you were, once again, making out deeply in a darkened hallway. Your hands ran through his messy mullet once more, your bodies pressed tightly against one another. You had missed the feeling, honestly. "you wanna ditch this party?" you murmured in between kisses, soft giggles escaping you every now and then. "we could go for a drive or something."

"That's a great idea." He sighed softly, reluctantly pulling away from you now as he looked at you. "I could use a break from all the noise. Let's do it." He smiled at you, slipping his hand around your waist. "We can go somewhere quiet. No one will bother us there." he whispered, caressing your cheek. "lead the way, pretty boy." you breathed out, a flushed look on your face from the messy makeout, gently wiping at the corner of his mouth. "Follow me, baby." he murmured, intertwining your hands and leading you out, not caring if anyone saw as he helped you into his car. Mark sighed contently once he'd begun to drive off, the pair of you finally away from the party. This felt like the closest thing to a normal relationship you'd had for a while, deciding to ignore the doubting thoughts in your head. He kept his promise, driving off somewhere you wouldn't be bothered. Mark smiled again, this time looking at you with love in his eyes as he drove, enjoying the moment and the company of you.

You got out at the familiar spot, walking a bit up the hill from where he'd parked before he set the blanket down and gently tugged you down beside him, able to admire the city's lights and the clear skies with evident stars. "God, I love how quiet and peaceful it is out here." He sighed softly, lying down next to you on the blanket and watching the city lights and the faint stars in the night sky. He smiled at you for a moment before rolling on his back and laying there, his head still turned to look at you. "I could stay here with you for hours…" he murmured, turning his head some more to catch your eyes again. You smiled at him, nuzzling into him a bit more. The tensions were high, the burning chemistry resurrecting and too much for you both to ignore any longer.

He could tell that you felt it too, the way your body pressed against him and nuzzled you even closer into him. It was clear that neither of you could resist the urge any longer. He turned and brought you into a passionate kiss, his hands tangling in your hair and lips moving against yours. His breath was hot and ragged as he kissed you, making it clear what he wanted right now. "Give me another chance." he whispered, cupping your face delicately. "Mark, we-" you started, being cut off by his finger pressing against your lips to shush you. "Just shut up and listen to me, okay?" he murmured, his voice more dominant than usual. "I know we tried this whole just being friends thing, but that was stupid. We both know it. So why don't we just admit our feelings towards each other and move on from there? Give me another chance. You know you want to. I think we could last forever."

"I'm afraid that everything will disappear. I’m just tired of this. I’m tired of it all." you whispered, leaning into his hand and gazing at the ground. "I just want us to work." you admitted, cheeks pink as you vulnerably spoke. "So do I." he sighed softly, a soft look on his face as it looked like he was trying to not let his own worries show on his expression. "I know we've had ups and downs, but do you remember how good things felt earlier on when it was just you and me and no one else?" he murmured, shifting so he was sitting right beside you. "Let's go back to that, only this time, let's fix and deal with whatever comes our way together and never let anyone else come between us. Just trust me." You met his eyes, once again falling for the loving gaze. Maybe he was right this time. "..okay." you hummed, going with your heart. "Really?" He murmured, surprise on his face as his eyes lit up in hope. "You mean it?" he asked, cupping your cheeks and leaning forward to kiss your forehead. "Just promise me you'll always be by my side then. I don't want to lose you again, and I don't ever want to go through that breakup again. Please. Let's just make this work."

You took in his words, swallowing the lump of doubt in your throat and kissing his cheek. "I promise." you whispered, nodding. "Thank you." He smiled softly, gently wiping at your cheeks with his thumbs as he kissed your forehead one more time. "I won't let things end again." He smiled again, moving so he was lying down on the blanket again right beside you and wrapping an arm around you as he pulled you closer to him. "So let's just enjoy our night together and forget about everything else, okay? Just…just for a while, let's forget about all the drama and enjoy each other's company. Sounds good?" you nodded, sitting in his lap and cuddling up to him. You didn't say a word, simply enjoying the moment. He smiled at you for a few moments more, enjoying the closeness of having you in his arms as he held you close and breathed slowly, not saying any words either. The two of you just enjoyed the quietness of the night, the quietness of nature and the silence of being alone together, away from all the noise and drama of life and the outside world. It was just the two of you. And he was content.

Please be right this time.

----

You had sat intertwined on your sofa, lazily passing a blunt around the living room with the others in your friend group you'd invited over. You were cuddled up to Mark, your arms wrapped around his side and his hoodie strings dangling in your hand as you toyed with the strings nonchalantly. Mark had one of his arms around you and was casually chatting with the others as well, the two of you just enjoying the rest of your evening and the weed together. you placed gentle kisses against his neck, nuzzling into his shoulder with a soft sigh. The others were still chatting away, laughing and cracking jokes at one another, unaware that the two of you had fallen into a cute little intimacy. You had been nuzzling into Mark's neck and planting gentle kisses against him, also letting out soft little sighs as you relaxed into the moment. Mark was grinning slightly at the touch of your lips on his neck, letting out a low moan and holding you tighter against him.

"my room?" you muttered, hand resting on his thigh as you looked innocently up at him. He smirked and took another pull of the joint, exhaling slowly before looking at you and nodding. "Let's go." He murmured, gently pushing himself away from the other members and starting to get up from the couch. He took your hand into his and pulled you with him, leading you upstairs. "Keep quiet, alright? We don't want to let them know." He murmured as he opened the door to your room and pulled you inside with him, closing the door softly behind you. His hands were all over you as soon as you entered the room, pinning you against the door and pulling you into a messy makeout. His lips were on yours, hands moving up and down the sides of your hips as he moved his hands over your body slowly. You could feel his breath against your neck, his grip tight but gentle at the same time. It felt so intense yet so passionate, and you couldn't help but get lost in the moment.

"Mark.." you moaned quietly, enjoying the feeling of his hands travelling along your body. the sight of you in one of his shirts which came to your knees had driven him insane all afternoon, especially becoming more desperate with the weed in his system. "Hnnghh…baby. Don't talk just yet." He murmured, still holding you against the door, his hands roaming over your hips as he squeezed your thighs and pulled his own body closer to you. The feel of your body pressed up against him like this was driving him insane, and the feeling got more and more desperate once you had started to moan too. "Don't say anything, it's driving me crazy just thinking about it.." He murmured, his mouth hovering slightly above yours, his breath hot on your skin. "need you Markie.." you whimpered as your hands tangled into his hair, earning a groan from him for the nickname that you knew drove him crazy.

"God damn it…" he murmured softly, a hand moving up to wrap around your back and holding you even closer as his lips pressed against yours, his fingers moving through your hair and massaging your scalp as his other hand squeezed your thighs again. "You know exactly what you're doing to me…" he groaned, his voice hoarse and his breath hot as he let a hand move up to the back of your head and start stroking your hair, slowly moving lower and lower. "what do you mean, Markie?" you continued, batting your eyelashes at him innocently, winding him up more. "Don't play innocent with me." He murmured, taking a deep breath in before letting out a groan as he felt you bat your eyelashes and grin back at him innocently. If you kept up like this, he'd lose all reason soon and give in fully to you. "You know exactly the grip you have on me, baby. Please stop playing innocent because I'm close to losing my patience here." He murmured softly, eyes still on you as a mischievous grin made its way onto his face.

"but Markie.." you whispered, leaving a hickey on his neck as your hands travelled along his chest, knowing you'd push him over the edge. "Mm..mmnghh…" He groaned softly, feeling the hickey on his neck and letting out a low moan as his eyes rolled back slightly. "Fuck…god, stop…" He murmured, his voice sounding both frustrated and desperate at the same time. His hands moved down to you now as well, running along your thighs then to your own hips, his fingers slowly caressing before moving back up, towards the back of your neck. "You gonna be good for me, baby?" he murmured, taking control as he wasted no time in removing your shirt. "I'll be so good for you, Markie. so, so good." you whimpered, moaning softly before he gently covered your mouth with his hand. "You gotta be quiet baby. Mmhh…" He groaned, feeling the hickey on his neck before feeling your hands travel along his chest too now. After feeling you moan before, his hand covered your mouth again to keep you quiet. "That's it…such a good little doll." He murmured softly, moving his hand away from your mouth and letting out another low moan as he felt your hands on him too now.

This was going to be a long night.

----

You opened your eyes slowly, groaning once more as the light from the outside blinded you and made you wince. You felt stiff and aching all over, thanks to all the activities you had last night. You stayed in bed for a moment longer, taking a deep breath and stretching your limbs, letting out a soft grunt of pain as you did so. The house was quiet, strangely quiet. You could hear your own breathing, but nothing else besides that. No voices, no footsteps or other movement. It was almost too quiet for it to be natural. You rubbed your eyes for a bit longer and moved to sit up, letting out a soft groan of pain as you stood up. You tried to brush your sleepiness off as well, stretching more to test out your muscles as you did. You looked over to the side of the bed, expecting to see Mark lying there and still asleep. But to your surprise, the bed was empty, the space beside where you two had slept last night now void. You rubbed your tired eyes again and looked around the room slowly. It was still quiet, a weirdly quiet morning as you wondered where he might have gone.

You froze as you realized Mark was nowhere to be found, and suddenly it was like a sinking feeling washed over you. A lump formed in your throat and your heart raced, anxiety filling you as you realized something was wrong. You started to think about why he might not be here and started to get paranoid about it, the quietness of it all not helping. You got up slowly, pulling on the shirt of his you had worn yesterday, feeling the pain in your thighs as you did so. The bathroom was empty, the kitchen empty, the living room empty. The entire home was empty, a quiet hush all around. As you came down the stairs, the eerie silence hit you once more, a chill running through you from how quiet it all was. His stuff was gone, gone as if he had never been here in the first place. The house was empty now, just like it had been before he had arrived. The empty house and its eerie silence reminded you of how he always played this same cycle with you. He would call you when he was bored, and you'd come running, falling right back into his lies and deceits whenever he was bored. Then, he'd disappear without a trace until the next time he felt lonely and bored again, starting the whole cycle all over again.

Alone again.

[knavesflames]

@alfiikae I have written it 😳 it is not the best because I got tired halfway through but decided I couldn’t not finish it. This is NOT my best work I don’t love this

This is very OOC for Arlecchino I think, but who cares? Not me

Sequel to the ask I received about childhood Arle and reader as friends!

Contents: crying, mention of self harm (not graphic, but mentioned and briefly talked about without naming it), just sadness

Word count: 3181

Under the cut!!

(Poor reader lmao, projecting all of my school experiences onto her 😓😓)

That day was stupid, you tell yourself. She hurt you, and you shouldn’t have let her back in. You still remember the humiliation of telling your mother that no, she couldn’t come for dinner because you were wrong, and she wasn’t your friend, and that the kids were right, you were weird and weird people deserve to be by themselves. You can still remember the pitying face your mother gave you as you shrunk off to your room to play with more rocks. The memory of you playing with those damn rocks fills your brain as you stare down at the textbook. Why are you so interested in rocks and stones? You don’t know, and part of you wishes you weren’t. You slam the book shut just as a knock on your door sounds out, and Arlecchino’s voice rings out.

“Are you here? You haven’t been answering my messages. I am confused.”

You try to stay silent because there’s no way in hell you want to answer the door right now. You’ve been avoiding her since that night, just like the way you’ve been avoiding everyone else. A vow made to yourself one day in freshman year of high school, avoid everyone like the plague.

“I can see your feet, can you please answer the door?”

A sigh, and your chair pushes back as you stand, walking reluctantly towards the door before you open it, poking your head out.

“What?”

“Can I come in?”

“I’m kind of busy.”

“You’ve been busy since-“

You cut her words short, your voice slightly distant, no trace of the warm child she once rejected.

“Yeah, well, I’m busy. Maybe another time, yeah?”

Your attempt to shut the door fails when her foot blocks the way, her face stern and her eyes dark with.. what is that? Worry? Guilt? Annoyance? You sigh, walking towards your desk again as you clutch the sleeves of your sweater to stop yourself from either crying in frustration or snapping at her.

“Why have you been ignoring me? We had sex, you can’t just ignore me like nothing happened.”

“You’re one to talk about being ignored, hm?”

“..touché. But the point stands.”

“Okay.”

Your head is in your textbook again as you try to grasp how to tell the age of rocks by the patterns inside. Your hand on your temple, attempting to block out the fact she’s stood right there, staring into you like she’s trying to analyse you.

“Damn it, what the hell is wrong? What is your problem?”

“You tell me.”

“I said and did one thing like ten years ago and you still haven’t let go of it! You have to move on. I’m trying to reconnect with you.”

“I’m a weirdo, remember? Why would I try to reconnect with someone who thinks I’m a weirdo? I’d rather hang out with my textbooks and rocks.”

Your voice is sharper than it usually is. You know from so many years of this that you have to toughen yourself up. You can’t let people treat you like this, you know that, but..

“That’s exactly the problem. All you care about is rocks, you never even tried to talk to people.”

Your head snaps around sharply in her direction, a glare on your once smiling face. Your tongue finds its way between your teeth as you take a breath. You can already feel the familiar stabbing pain in your chest.

“I have tried. You just didn’t care to pay attention. I care only about rocks because they’re the only things that won’t be horrible to me! Like you’re any better with your stupid insects.”

You hear a sharp breath being taken as her fists clench for a second. Your face is unreadable, but she can see you’re hurt. She feels guilty, but she’s so annoyed at the same time. She can’t figure you out the way she wants to, she can’t read you the way she can with other people. It’s like you’ve locked yourself away behind a wall that can’t be demolished.

“What the hell happened to you?”

“What? Are you asking me if I was dropped on the head as a baby?”

The words make Arlecchino stop. That was so specific, too specific to not have been said to you before. And your voice is so sharp, so distant. The guilt is beginning to form in a pit in her stomach, pulling her downwards into a sea of anger. Her eyes flick over you, noticing the thing she’s noticed constantly about you.

“No. I’m asking what happened. You were such a happy child and then one day you just weren’t. You were so social and then you stopped talking to anyone, and nobody said anything about it either.”

“Mhm.”

“And now you’re not you. I don’t like it.”

Your mind recalls everything. The day she ditched you seems like such a small thing, but it wasn’t. Not when you pair it with everything else that happened. It was just the icing on the cake. You still remember the feeling, what you turned to, the nights alone. Your vision blurs, but you blink rapidly, fighting the tears away. Arlecchino waits patiently, standing there as she stares at you, analysing your appearance, analysing everything she can about you like you’re one of her insects she plans to research. You’ve never spoken to anyone about this, and you never dreamed of doing it. Especially not to her. But the words beginning spilling out of your mouth in both anger and sorrow.

“Nobody liked me, so I changed. Being me was the wrong thing to do.”

“Wrong? No. People liked you.”

You scoff, raising an eyebrow in disbelief. You know that’s not true, people have told you that.

“Do not lie. Nobody liked me, and it isn’t like they made that painfully obvious.”

“What do you even mean by that? Is that why you..”

She gestures a hand to you, and you know what she means. It isn’t hard to know what she means. Your eyes narrow, and your tone becomes defensive.

“How do you-“

“I just know. I saw one time. You weren’t the best at hiding it, you know. And you didn’t take your sweater off when we had sex. It adds up.”

“Right.”

“You shouldn’t do that, you know. Why? What drove you to start with that? Because people didn’t like you?”

Your jaw tenses. You don’t even know what to say to that. Your hands clasp in front of you, bringing the sleeves of your sweater against your palms, an old childhood habit really, but you never really paid attention to it. You stare in silence for a while before your voice sounds out, quiet, almost sad.

“I don’t need a lecture.”

“Sorry.”

“You really don’t know?”

“No.”

“You don’t remember that the janitor had to lock the changing rooms after school hours because a girl got locked in there for the weekend?”

Arlecchino’s eyes widen for a second as she tries to recall that. She does, in fact, vaguely remember that someone was locked in the changing rooms for an entire weekend in freshman year, and was only found again on the Monday when they had gym class. She feels the pit in her stomach grow significantly.

“That was you?”

“Mhm.”

“What happened?”

“Do you even care?”

A pause, and then:

“I do.”

You begin explaining for the first time in your life, your voice thick and almost wavering. You stare straight ahead at the small amethyst geode next to your bed, refusing to make eye contact. And you explain everything, everything from first grade to now.

“People didn’t like me because they thought I was weird. They thought I was too interested in rocks and that they couldn’t talk to me because of that.”

“You are too interested in rocks.”

“You can go if you’re going to begin with that.”

“No, you’re right. Keep going.”

Your throat constricts. For some reason, all of your anger is towards her. In a sense, she was the catalyst for everything. Not that it’s inherently her fault, but you can’t get her words out of your head.

“I kept trying to make friends but it wasn’t working. They would always play with other girls, which was.. I don’t know, sad, but I could play with myself. Then they wanted to play with me all of a sudden, so we would play hide and seek. They would ask me to hide and they would find me, but they didn’t even try to find me. It was just a ploy to get me away from them. I didn’t get it. I remember thinking that I was a bit sad they never found me until I hid really close to them. I found out they weren’t actually trying to find me, they just talked about me. They called me weird for liking rocks and wanting to play with them.”

You pause, taking a shaky breath before you continue. Arlecchino’s stomach is completely filled with guilt now, because she can tell where this is going. She has the urge to reach out and grab your hand. To trace her fingers over your skin. She doesn’t.

“Then I met you. You tolerated me, at least. And I had never had a friend before. So I remember running home and talking about you to my mom. She was worried, you know. She knew I didn’t have any friends and she saw it made me sad. She was so excited for me and when we stayed friends for a bit— well, ‘friends’, she asked if you wanted to come for dinner. She said I could ask if you wanted to come. I was so happy and I had this whole idea that we were going to swing on the swings in the park and maybe go to the library you liked so much. It turns out you didn’t like me at all.”

Your fingers pick at your nails, and it’s clear that’s something you do often by the way your skin is red and peeling. It was the opposite of her not liking you. She did like you. So much so, that she realised that she was different from other people.

“Stop that.”

Her hand finally reaches over and grabs yours, stopping you from causing more damage to your skin. Her hand are a contrast from yours, her hands patterned and blackened, almost charred and long nails painted perfectly, with your hands being plain, blunt nails that are bitten down. Tears gather on your lashes now as you keep staring at the geode, one you got for your 15th birthday.

“I had to go home to my mom that day and see her excited face. I remember she asked me what you wanted to eat, what she should make and I.. damn it, it was so hard telling her you— yeah. Her face fell, she was so happy I had a friend, and now I didn’t. She asked if I was sad, I said no. I said I didn’t care. I said I knew I was weird anyway and the girls at school said weirdos can’t make friends so it all made sense. I heard her talking to my dad when she thought I was sleeping that night, she was so sad for me.”

“I didn’t mean for it to be so mean.”

“It doesn’t help now. That was just the start of everything.”

A singular tear finally drops from your eyelid, hitting your skin. Everything is running through your mind and it’s so overwhelming you can’t help but choke down a quiet sob. Arlecchino’s own eyes are tearing up, despite her best efforts to hide it. She feels like the guilt is eating her, that the shame of what she said is sucking her into a hole. Ashamed that she said and did all of those things only to fuck you years later like nothing happened. She doesn’t want to hear anymore. But she tells herself that she needs to.

“The other kids caught wind of what happened. “If the loner girl doesn’t want to be friends with her, why would anyone else?” I kept trying to join in conversations, I kept trying to make friends, but it never worked. I got weird looks and insults. I threw a party for my 15th birthday. I invited everyone. Even you. I think a part of me was desperate for someone to show up. I got everything ready at my house, I bought so much food and I had a cake. People said they were coming. They—“

Your words are cut off by a sob. This is the first time you’ve shown any type of emotion in front of someone in years, and you’re cursing yourself for it. And Arlecchino, she’s silent. She’s listening, and she’s so so sad for you. She knows it’s only getting worse because you haven’t even talked about the changing room incident yet.

“Nobody came. I went to bed at 1am after clearing everything away. The food sat in the fridge and I had to throw it away. I did something stupid that night. I wish I didn’t because it became a habit. But I was so sad. I didn’t understand why nobody came, so I asked people. They lied to me, they said they were coming but they didn’t. And then, one Friday, after gym, they hid my gym bag. I spent a while looking, and when I finally found it and tried to leave, they had locked me in there. They said they would let me out when I stopped being a weirdo, because weirdos deserve nothing, they don’t deserve friends. They left, and I was there all weekend until the janitor found me early on the Monday. I never spoke to anyone again.”

The shame Arlecchino feels right now is palpable. She herself is crying now, silently as she stares at the floor. She yells at herself in her head at everything she could have done, but didn’t. Her eyes flick to your upper body, covered by your sweater. It’s not an unusual sight, she hasn’t seen you without a sweater since your 15th birthday. Listening to your shuddering breaths, your sobs, it pains her. So much so that her voice sounds like a yell.

“Why the fuck didn’t you say anything to me? To anyone?”

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that.”

Seeing how broken you are inside, seeing the loneliness that secretly overwhelms you, she wants to punch herself. She wants to apologise, she just.. doesn’t know how. She’s not one to apologise, she never has been. She’s hot headed, cold blooded, but you soften her in a way she’s never felt.

“I’m really sorry I never reached out to you. I’m sorry I called you weird. Really, I am. And I should have never treated you the way I did.”

Her words only make you sob harder. You sob into your sleeve, the fabric muffling your almost wails, your gasping breaths. She feels like her lungs are constricting, she feels like she can’t breathe as she watches you break down into the comfort of your sweater, which is only a painful reminder that you truly have nobody but yourself. She begins wondering how many times you’ve cried like this. How many times you’ve turned to that awful habit. And the thought of that, sitting alone in your room as you cry, breaks her too. She cries into her hands.

“I am sorry. I feel horrible, I’m so ashamed of the way I just didn’t do anything. I could have done something, I should have done something. I pushed you away because I— I had just discovered I didn’t like.. god damn it. I’m a lesbian, and it was then I figured it out. Your fault.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me. I tried to push it down, but every time I saw you it was a mean reminder that I wasn’t like everyone else. You’re such a sweet person, you don’t deserve what you got. You should have been a girl who everyone loved. Instead, you got.. you don’t deserve to be alone like you think. I lov-“

She stops. She takes a breath before she continues. It’s not the time, and she can’t use this situation to confess her infatuation with you. It was an explanation, but she can’t use it as an excuse. She feels so awkward, she hates apologising. She can’t recall a single time she’s apologised properly and meant it. Her hands fumble with her tears as she wipes them away, pushing through the awkwardness she feels.

“I like you. I want to be your friend, at least.”

You don’t reply for a bit as you try hard to calm down. Biting your lip the way you did the way she refused to be your friend, you sigh as your breath hitches.

“You won’t leave me alone until I agree, won’t you?”

“No.”

You sigh as you rub your temple, running your fingers through your hair.

“We can try. Don’t expect anything. We’re not best friends. We can try.”

Relief floods through Arlecchino, at least a bit. She was dreading her apology being rejected, causing more awkwardness. A single nod as she glances up around the room.

“Alright.”

You both sit in silence as you try to calm down. Your hands fumble with your sleeves as the tears dry on your face before her voice is heard again.

“You know you have a cobweb?”

“I know. I’m scared of spiders so I just let it live there.”

“Is it big?”

“No, but I still won’t touch it.”

Her eyes search the corners before she finally finds the little fellow, a small smile gracing her face. Her hands reach up, gently pushing the spider onto her hands. She gingerly approaches you, your eyes following her. You know the fear is irrational, but it’s always been a fear. The spider is almost cute, if it wasn’t for.. you don’t know.

“It’s fine. This species won’t hurt you at all. They look a bit scary but they’re actually not. People just don’t know how to hold them.”

You know she’s trying to distract you. It’s like she knows your thoughts, but she knows better than to speak about it.

“Is that why they run?”

“Mm.”

“How do you hold them, then?”

She looks up at you, as if for permission before she opens her hand and lets the spider crawl onto your sleeve. She figures that it not touching your skin is easier for the first time.

“Just don’t be harsh. Don’t hold them by their legs, let them roam.”

“It’s almost cute.”

“I know. I like the purple rock on your nightstand.”

You both watch the spider as it crawls around your arm, you’re slowly relaxing, still on edge, but.. better.

“It’s a geode. Amethyst.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Can I?”

“Yeah. It’s pretty.”

And for the first time in a long time, a real smile ghosts your face as you begin talking.

[bullet-prooflove]

Letting Go: Will Trent x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @yezzyyae @words-and-seeds @trublu2u @@cassiopeiablog

References to Trying Series

Will visits Angie once a year, always on her birthday.

You know when it’s around that time because there’s always a subtle shift in his behaviour. He becomes more subdued, his temperament sharper. He spends his nights in the office instead of coming home, immersing himself in whatever case he can get on his hands on. His preoccupation is a coping mechanism, a way of outrunning the memories. You know this time of year takes him back to a dark place, one he’s spent years trying to claw his way out of.  He doesn’t tell you about the war it wages inside him, that he despises the fact he still feels an obligation to Angie, that even from beyond the grave she still has that power over him.

During the first year of your relationship, he tries to hide it.  This thing between the two of you is new and he doesn’t want you to think he’s still caught up on his dead ex, that he’s cheating on you with a dead woman. He becomes distant, cancels plans. He actively avoids you because you’re intuitive when it comes to him, he knows you’ll see right through him.

It’s the day after he visits Angie’s grave that you show up at this house with two cups of takeout coffee and breakfast pastries.

“It’s an olive branch,” you tell him. “I’m sorry for whatever I did…”

It’s that that changes everything. The fact you think that you’re the problem, that you’ve come here to try to rectify it. It’s in that instant he realises just how insidious his connection to Angie is, how it has the potential to derail the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

Over breakfast he tells you everything. It comes out in stops and starts because he isn’t sure how to describe his relationship with Angie, how to tell it in a way that doesn’t fill him with shame. He’s worked so hard to move on, to get past her but once a year he finds himself drawn back in and he hates himself for it. You hold him in the aftermath, his face buried in the curve of your neck as your hand smooths over his hair.

It's another reminder of just how different you are from Angie, she would never shown him this warmth, never given him her affection. She would have hated you, how good you are, how kind you are, all the things she couldn’t be.

It’s been a couple of years since then, his life has changed. He has a wife now, a baby on the way. He almost forgets about Angie. He’s too busy decorating the nursery and overhauling the garden so his child has a place to play. It’s only in the morning when you place a bouquet of yellow roses on the kitchen table that he remembers it’s even her birthday.

As usual the gravesite is overgrown. It’s a nice plot under an oak tree, one that Will picked out himself. He was the only attendee at her funeral, the only person to put a handful of dirt on her coffin. He’s the only person in the world who ever cared about Angie, who loved her flaws and all, and it shows. He takes his time tidying it up, pulling up the weeds from around the headstone before he arranges the roses carefully within the metal vase.

“It's over Angie.” He says softly, placing his hand on the earth, his fingertips curling in the dirt. “It’s time for me to let you go.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[fireheartwraith]

Defending Forever online is not enough I need a gun

[punctuation-completionist]

you don’t have to answer this ask but wow how are you supposed to be the bad guy fucking apologizing for reacting badly to being told to kill yourself?? i hate this website

well okay hold up i never said i was the bad guy. i said there were misunderstandings on both sides and that i was sorry for an issue in one part of how i handled it. just one.

[oscill4te]

damn the family event i was supposed to go to today was canceled and it is bittersweet. Like I really didn't wanna go bc i am still not over everything, and seeing them always sets me back really bad. but damn, this family is so dysfunctional. everyone single family member just bailed or ghosted for different reasons. its kinda sad. I always feel as if I am the person who broke the family facade too. I bailed the last 2 years on this event too. so it is double ouch.

[misandrygalore]

u know what tho my cousin bought me brand new airpods w his first paycheck for christmas to thank me for taking care of him when he was a kid and i cried so hard when i got home and now i’m gonna watch him graduate next weekend and im gonna ugly cry so bad and then we’re going to the beach before he leaves for college and im really really gonna cry then

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

just finished season 3 and i have. thoughts.

[ambrosiagourmet]

I want to talk about why I think this is the one of the most important Falin panels:

So, Falin is really nice, right? It's one of the first things we really learn about her. She's kind even to the monsters of the dungeon - choosing to ward the party rather than fight spirits and cause them needless harm.

In the above early flashback in chapter 11, we see Marcille fawning over Falin's kindness, calling her an angel. Namari calls her soft-hearted. We see Falin choose not to fight even when a zombie attacks - instead she resolves the confrontation with a hug. After the flashback, the first thing Senshi says is that Falin "sounds like quite the person," which Marcille strongly affirms.

At this point in the story, all we have seen of Falin are these impressions; she is a healer, an angel, a caretaker with an infinite well of kindness towards everyone she meets - both friend and foe.

And honestly, that remains most of what we have to go by to understand her. The only times we get to see Falin on the page, alive and just herself, are in the opening and closing pages of the story and in the brief period of time after she is resurrected.

Nonetheless, we do have some more details to work with. For one, there is the scene that The Panel is from - a short memory in chapter 75, when Marcille flashes back to while she's dying. In that scene, Falin prepares to teleport them all out, and says that she's sorry "if there is a person at [their] destination." And that's when we get The Panel.

If you teleport someone or something into another person, the person teleported into is likely to be, at minimum, severely injured. They could die.

We can see a lovely little horrifying example of exactly why in one of the Daydream Hour doodles:

So, hmm. That's not... that's not SUPER nice. Certainly not displaying the same "kindness to all, friend and foe included" we saw represented earlier. On a basic level, this adds some nuance to Falin's kindness. We see it break a little, when pushed to the limit. We see her chose to protect the people she loves above all else.

Which makes sense! As Laios says when the Winged Lion accuses him of similarly being motivated more by his friends' safety than everyone else in the dungeon, "...most people, aside from virtuous do-gooders, would feel the same way."

So, we can take The Panel as simply showing a moment of weakness for Falin. A time when she was pushed to her limits, and that "most people" selfish side of her shone through.

However... I think there's a little more going on with Falin than just her being an angel 99% of the time, except just that once. I love The Panel because I think it helps us understand that Falin isn't just motivated by kindness - she also has a desire to avoid seeing people in pain.

Isn't that the same thing?

No, no it very much is not.

Let's look at a short comic from the Falin section of the Adventurer's Bible, because I think it illustrates this point perfectly. The group is complaining about how much Marcille's healing hurts, and comparing it to Falin's, which "doesn't hurt a bit." Marcille retorts with the following:

Now, the punchline of this comic is that, despite Marcille's sentimental assertion that she's "thinking of [them]" by letting her healing magic hurt, they all still prefer to be healed by Falin.

But hey, this wouldn't be the first time that Dungeon Meshi hides a very real character beat or insight in a gag, so let's think about this somewhat seriously.

If Marcille is right (and she knows a fair bit about magic, so we can assume that she has at least somewhat of a point), then what Falin is doing isn't kind. I suppose if someone specifically requested to not feel the pain, it could be kind, but that's not really what happened here. She is the one who felt badly about the others being in pain, and she is the one who decided, without telling them or giving them a choice in the matter, to take away that pain.

Both Marcille and Falin are healing the party, but Marcille is doing it in a way that accomplishes the task in the most straight forward way, without any additional interference. Falin is going out of her way to perform the healing in a way she is more comfortable with. A way that avoids pain.

Going back the The Panel, I don't think its a coincidence that the only time we see Falin (well, non-chimera Falin) willing to do something that could hurt someone is when any potential pain will be far away from her. If she got someone hurt or killed by teleporting the party to the surface? Not only would it be far out of her sight, but she'd be dead before she had to deal with any consequences of that action.

Falin is not a confrontational person. She doesn't push when Marcille won't tell her the truth about the resurrection, and she comforts Laios about her own death - both of those things happening in the only full chapter she is alive and conscious in the whole story.

We also know that she considered accepting Shuro's proposal, despite not having any special feelings towards him, and that Falin never explained to Marcille that she wanted them to share a meal together. When she brought Marcille various foods at the academy, she just accepted Marcille's confused rejection and gave up.

And lastly, we know that she is still in contact with her parents, despite the neglect and abuse she suffered at their hands. Although the way someone chooses to handle contact with abusive or bad family is a complicated topic, which I don't want to overly simplify, I do I think this fact gets at the heart of how she handles conflict.

So many people that Falin loves have hurt her. There are understandable hurts, like Laios leaving the village, or Marcille not understanding the food. And there are bigger, far less justifiable hurts - like her parents neglecting her throughout her childhood, and sending her away to be alone at the magic academy.

It doesn't seem like Falin has ever confronted any of it directly.

And the unhealthy aspects of this kind of avoidance of pain and confrontation is one of the things that the story of Dungeon Meshi is all about. We see Laios grapple with it before he goes to kill Falin, and we see Marcille acknowledge it at the end of the story, when she tells Laios that she has come to terms with Falin's death:

Eating is a part of life. Consuming other living things is a part of life. It isn't really possible to avoid that pain - you can only hide from the truth of it. You have to be selfish everyday. You have to eat - to choose to live. To choose to take up space.

And this is something Falin embraces, too. She comes back to life, after all.

We see her choose to come back to life.

And how does she make that choice? She eats. She consumes, and then she is asked a question by the manifestation of hunger itself:

Do you want to eat more?

There is a double meaning in the Winged Lion's final words on the next page.

When I first read this, I took it as him saying: life is cruel. You will suffer. You will feel more pain.

But perhaps, especially for Falin, this also means: you are choosing a path where you must cause pain. Where you must consume. Where you must take, and must be selfish. Because eating is the special privilege of the living, and it is their burden, too. In order to stay alive, she will need to keep eating.

And she chooses that. Chooses to be selfish. It's why her resurrection scene is so important, and it's why The Panel is so important. Because Falin coming back isn't the ultimate reward for all of the party's hard work.

It's her choice. Just like it was her choice that started everything in the first place. But this time, she doesn't choose to accept causing pain for the sake of Marcille and Laios. She does it for her own sake.