#I’d think mold was the problem

[kellesaurus]

I adore Noemí, but for a very smart character who is aware of A) the mind altering effects of some mushrooms, and B) instances where aerosolized substances can fuck you up (e.g., mercury & the hatters), she was remarkably unconcerned about the mold absolutely infesting that house.

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

phil’s only been eating the salmon wet food (a problem bc there are three kinds in the variety pack) and the issue might actually be that she is a much more social eater than i expected, she’s fucking chowing down on a tuna blend bc (i assume) i am sitting between her and the door (where the other cat lives) (never mind that mack is still terrified of phil even though she’s been here three months)

[peapod20001]

I’m the type that can and will cry if think too hard <3

[stayathome-ts]

I was having a great time working on a project and then realized this sort of thing probably won’t even work the way I want it to unless I either learn some really wacky shit or I consult a being who’s essentially a minor god. So. That’s both frustrating and interesting.

[hihhasotherfixations]

Kinktober Day 12: Hate/Angry sex - Price x Reader

Kinktober Masterlist

CW: fem!reader, rough sex, oral (m!receiving), unprotected p in v, angry Price - though not at you

So, the reason these fics of the last few days are late are cause ‘twas my birthday! So I’m catching up now but I figured for my birthday day fic I’d go a little more out than usual, hehe. Enjoy Price using you to blow off some steam ;3

Word Count: 3468

Walking in through the door, John slammed it shut, an anger and vitriol radiating off of him that had you wide-eyed and silent in a second, sitting on the couch and watching him.

“John?” You asked, but it was like he didn’t even hear you as he kicked off his boots, dropping his bag with only a little too heavy a thunk before he stalked into the house, an angry frown on his face.

Immediately, he walked over to the liquor cabinet, pulling out a scotch and pouring himself a hefty glass, not even bothering with the ice he usually so meticulously put in whenever he poured himself a drink.

Leaning back on the couch, you looked at him, a worried look on your face. “John. Big bear.” You finally got his attention with the horrible nickname you only ever used to tease him, though this time, there was not a hint of teasing or mischief on your face, your brows pulled up in worry. “What’s wrong?”

Taking in the deepest breath you’d seen him take in a long time, it almost seemed as if he was trying to reel in his anger before he sighed out deeply, rounding the couch and crashing down into it right next to you, nearly sitting down on you and spilling his drink; though it was clear his mind was somewhere else as his face twisted up in frustration. “Fucking Norris thinks he can ground my team because he’s ‘higher rank’.” He spat, making air quotes at the end as he took off his hat and slammed it onto the coffee table.

“Whoa, hey, what happened?” You ask, placing your hand on his thigh, to which John started tapping his fingers into his knee.

“Colonel Norris – bastard that he is – decided to ground my team because of a mistake his men made while we worked together a month back. An op went wrong because of it and now he’s making it a whole case, trying to spin it on my team.” John seethed, his fingers stopping their tapping as he instead started bouncing his right leg, frustrated. “Because it’s being investigated, we’re not allowed to go out until it’s solved. But we had a fucking target right in our grasp-!” John sat up, his hand wringing an imaginary neck before he huffed out a frustrated breath, falling back into the couch as he covered his eyes with his hand.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry.” You frowned and John sighed deep, sitting straight to throw back half of his drink in one go, barely even reacting to the burn as it glid down his throat.

“We’re not getting this guy in our sights again. It took me three months to track him down and right as we were planning a mission to get him, Norris comes with this shit!” He hissed, partially turned to you now, just ranting to you. “And I’ve had problems with Norris in the past in Urzikstan but back then it could be excused by him simply following orders from higherup, but this time it’s completely him and I’m bloody done with this bastard!” He growled to you, a fire in his eyes that didn’t seem to want to die out anytime soon.

“Is there anything you can do?” You asked, hoping to diffuse the situation a bit though it had the complete opposite effect, firing John up even further.

“I already tried everything! I sent e-mails, told Norris in person to just hold it off for a week, spoke in meetings about it but this molded muppet used his rank to override any of my requests!”

Seeing he was not going to be stopping, you knew you had to do something.

“How the fuck am I supposed to do my job when he is coming in here during one of the most vital times happening in the last half a year?! For a thing we didn’t even do?! It’s ridiculous and I’m gonna-!” “John- John?” You stopped him mid-ramble, turning his face towards you. “You’re getting too worked up. You need to blow off some steam.” You spoke softly, watching him huff out a breath as he tried to reel himself in, realizing himself he was just throwing everything on you now.

“I know, but I really can’t be bothered. I’m not going to the gym and I’m through my cigars this month. I’m not doing anything else today, sorry Y/N but-“ “That’s not what I meant.” You interrupted him again.

At that, his brows furrowed in confusion and you shifted on the couch, leaning towards him and placing your free hand directly on his crotch, your lips centimeters away from his, causing his breath to hitch.

“Plenty of ways to blow off steam without leaving the house.” You whispered and John groaned, shifting as just your touch – palming him – had him turning hard ridiculously fast.

“Darling, it won’t be pretty.” He gasped softly, trying to keep his composure as he closed his eyes, his lips pressed in a tight line while he leaned forward to slowly place his partially drank scotch on the coffee table.

You however, leaned in and started peppering kisses down his neck while he moved back to lean properly into the couch, having deposited his drink. “I don’t need pretty. Seeing you so worked up is just doing things to me.” You admitted, continuing to palm his crotch, feeling his erection straining against the fabric of his uniform.

Groaning, John just threw caution to the wind, grabbing your hips and yanking you onto his lap, his mouth slamming into yours.

You barely had any time to squeak before it was a mess of teeth clacking and tongue, John wasting not a single moment to claim your mouth for himself while his hands went down and tightly grabbed your ass, squeezing.

Pulling your hips into his, he practically forced you to straddle him as he began to thrust up, rocking his bulge against your crotch desperately.

It rubbed straight against your clit, making your eyes flutter shut as you wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing back with fervour.

His hands wouldn’t stop groping your ass, running up and down the expanse of it before he released his right hand, using it to smack the flesh hard. “Take it off.” He commanded, barely breaking the kiss to say it, his teeth nipping at your lower lip.

“O-Okay.” You whispered, trying to catch your breath from the intensity and suddenness of the situation, only to get a firm squeeze to your rear again - you better hurry up.

Getting off his lap, you took off your pants, pushing them down and stepping out of them before looking at your husband.

His eyes were roving your thighs, his pupils blown out before he reached out and held you by the back of the thigh, right under your ass as he pulled you in. “Be good for me and take it all off.” He rumbled as he slid forward on the couch, leaning in to place his lips to the front of your panties, grazing his teeth across it and making you shudder.

“Yes, sir.” You whispered, getting an approving squeeze to your thighs as you then pulled your shirt over your head, unclasping your bra as well.

While you did that, John’s hands roamed up your ass, slipping under the fabric of your undies and up until he turned his hands around and gripped the fabric, bunching it up before tearing it off your ass, leaving you completely naked as he simply dropped it to the floor.

Gasping as he ruined your panties and threw them, you didn’t even have time to protest as John locked his arms under your ass and lifted you as he got to his feet, starting to carry you to the bedroom.

“God, you’re exactly what I need right now.” He murmured against your stomach, his beard rubbing across your skin, making you close your eyes.

“Use me however you want.” You whispered, one of your hands tangling in his hair, making the man groan softly.

“Are you sure, love?” He asked, kissing your stomach while he kicked open the bedroom door, only half an eye used to navigate his way around the house.

“Positive.” You smiled and a little growl left the man.

Before you knew it, you were dropped onto the bed, your husband crawling over you with intent. Yet before he could fully eclipse you, you placed your hand against his chest, stopping him.

“What?” He grumbled, clearly unhappy by being stopped but you just smiled.

Seeing the sly look in your eye, John narrowed his own, trying to deduce what you were planning as you slowly moved out from under him, sitting up while he followed until you lowered yourself off the bed and down onto the floor.

“Thought I could do what I wanted.” He challenged, his chest deeply moving up and down, betraying how worked up he actually was.

“I’m just here to help you along.” You grinned, moving between his legs as you then reached for his belt, starting to unbuckle it, never breaking eye contact as you opened his pants.

As you moved to pull the clothing down his hips, he gripped your wrists. “No, darling. If you want to suck it, you can. But I’m in control. Understood?” He asked, dropping your wrists to instead fish himself out of his underwear, hard and leaking a drop of precum.

Swallowing softly, you couldn’t take your eyes off of his cock, a low chuckle leaving the man when he noticed. Reaching out, he placed his left hand on the back of your head, pulling you closer while his right hand gripped the base of his shaft, angling it towards your lips.

Without complaint, you parted your lips and took him into your mouth, immediately starting to suck.

Feeling that, John let his head fall back as he groaned, slightly rocking his hips. “Fucking hell-“ He hissed and you smirked around him, making the brunet snap his head down to you. “Don’t get cocky.” He warned and you innocently looked up at him, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked, taking him a little deeper into your mouth.

Groaning, his brown furrowed in irritation as he clenched his jaw, his hand tightening in your hair as he then pulled your head down, making you take him even deeper.

Getting the reaction you were hoping for, you moaned around him, sucking as you bob your head, John helping you by beginning to move your head up and down, clicking his tongue to try and stay quiet when he felt your tongue swirling around him.

“God, keep that up.” He grunted, starting to lightly buck his hips up into your mouth while he pulled your head up and down.

Closing your eyes, you just relaxed your throat, letting John begin to fuck your mouth as he shifted to sit on the edge of the bed, his hips beginning to speed up.

Almost as if a switch flipped, John groaned as he began to lose himself, leaning forward over you as he thrusted into your mouth, moving deeper and deeper until you gagged, spit gathering at your lips as he continued to move, pleasure curling through him.

Reaching out, you placed your hands on his thighs, doing your best to stay put, tears in your eyes as he became more and more vocal, pushing past your gag reflex.

His hips eagerly pumped into your throat, his tip hitting the back of your throat as you drooled around him, both of his hands cradling your head, pulling you down onto his cock in time with his thrusts.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum-“ John choked out, abruptly pulling out of your mouth, making you gasp for breath while he panted, his left hand holding the base of his cock, almost as if he was stopping himself from climaxing.

“J-John-“ You whispered but his right hand moved from holding onto your hair, down to your chin.

“Get on the bed.” He ordered through his pants.

Wiping the spit away from your mouth, you nodded and slowly got up, climbing onto the bed while still trying to catch your breath.

Grunting softly, John shifted onto the bed again, spreading your legs as he then spit onto his fingers, reaching down to rub through your folds, only to find you absolutely dripping.

“God, you love me being rough, don’t you?” John huffed, spreading your slick onto his fingers as he then pushed two fingers into you, making you whine.

“Y-Yes.” You mumbled, blushing. Though he always held an air of dominance in the bedroom, John never truly lost himself, always being just a little too careful for your liking whenever he went onto the rougher side.

Pumping his fingers in and out of your cunt, John growled softly, his eyes dark and intense. “You want me to fuck you then? Blow off steam?”

“Properly, yeah.” You whispered, taking in a sharp inhale when he scissored his fingers in response, a slight burn appearing as he stretched you out just a little too fast, needing to be inside you but wanting to prepare you at least a bit. “Leave it.” You gasped, John tilting his head, still scissoring his fingers.

“It’ll hurt, darling.” He growled softly, leaning down to bite at the sweet spot on your neck he knew by heart.

“I want it to.” You mumbled, grabbing his hips and pulling him down, making John huff.

“So you’re working against my command now too? Not even letting me prepare you.” He grunted, still moving along with you as he rubbed his cockhead through your folds, spreading your arousal on it as he clenched his jaw. At his words, you nodded as you bit your lip and the brunet growled. “Very well.”

With that, he pushed into you, not waiting or letting you adjust like normal as he instead shoved in to the hilt, groaning as he felt your heat envelop all of him, his eyes closing as he paused.

Opening his eyes, he then looked at you. “You asked for it.” He spoke lowly, the gravel in his voice twice as prominent as he began to move, his hands shooting down to your hips to hold you down; no easing into it as he began to rapidly pump into you.

Gasping at the burning stretch, you threw your head back, whimpering out a moan as your husband began to fuck you, his hips slapping into yours as he took you with short and quick thrusts.

“My team disobeys me, my superiors sabotage my mission, and now my own wife won’t even let me take care of her properly.” John hissed, a fire burning in his eyes as his thrusts intensified, strokes long and deep.

Your walls clenched around him as you moaned, a flush to your face from the anger and irritation radiating from him as he pounded into you, keeping you pinned down to the bed as you tried to buck away from him and into him at the same time. 

“Stay still.” He growled, the sound of skin slapping echoing in the room as he kept you down on the bed, his tip pushing into your g-spot with every thrust.

“Fuck-“ You gasped, making John groan as he moved, his eyes half-lidded as he could feel every ridge of your cunt, wrapped so tightly around his shaft, rubbing into him as he pushed in and out of you.

“That’s right, take it.” He hissed, his left hand moving up to squeeze your breast while the fingers on his right dug into the side of your ass. “Just like that.” He praised, his voice still rough as he leaned his face back into the crook of your neck.

“John-“ You gasped, only for him to sink his teeth into your skin. “Shut it.” He grunted, bucking his hips into yours in a frantic pace, his cock hitting deeper because of the new angle, rutting into your cervix and making you cry out.

Feeling the entrance of your womb, a loud groan escaped the brunet, his tip bashing into it repeatedly, sending waves of pleasure and slight pain through you, making you moan out more.

“Fuck, you feel good.” The man grunted directly into your ear, making you whimper.

Huffing, he couldn’t take it anymore, pulling back from your neck to tear his shirt from his body, throwing it off the bed and allowing you to see the hair dotting his torso, leaning down into the v-line and happy trail connected to his cock currently thrusting deep inside you.

Groaning, John pushed his pants and underwear down his thighs, not willing to stop fucking you just to take it off, simply accepting it as he felt relief washing over his sweaty body, no longer completely cooking in his clothes.

Seeing his chest bare before you, you whined and reached out, running your hands down his pecs, feeling the coarse hair on his chest, hiding the scarred, warm, soft skin underneath. As you trailed further down, your lip between your teeth, John suddenly grabbed your wrists, swiftly pushing them down above your head.

“Did I say you could?” He growled, punctuating his words with a hard thrust, making you moan out. “Stay put.” He huffed, holding your wrists down with one hand while his other moved to your waist, holding you down while he slammed his mouth to yours, his chest pushed into you.

Whimpering into the rough kiss, your eyes rolled back as heat grew in your abdomen, feeling him fuck into you, your toes curling as he bottomed out with every thrust.

Pounding roughly, John was huffing against your lips with every thrust now, sweat gathering on his brow and running down his back, causing a sheen on his skin mirrored on your own, the exertion and pleasure coming to a head.

“John, please-“ You moaned, your legs weak and trembling, feeling your head start to go light as the heat spread, your walls clenching slightly around his shaft.

“I know, shit-“ John groaned, rutting into you with fervour as his cock began to twitch, feeling you clench around him.

Whining out a moan, you clenched your eyes shut as you arched your back, John moving his lips from your lips down the center of your throat, his teeth nipping and biting as he groaned out a moan of his own, trying to stave off his orgasm as he slowed down his thrusts, getting rougher.

“Fuck, please!” You cried out for him, only for his thumb to descend onto your clit, making you moan loudly as your back fully arched, your cunt tightly clenching down on him.

Feeling that, John moaned, his cock twitching while you came around him, your walls spasming and squeezing tightly, making him groan out low and desperate, his hips bucking as he continued to rub your clit, stretching out your orgasm.

“Good girl, good girl-“ He panted like a mantra, his hips bucking quick and sharp into you, your pussy so greedily taking him in, your arousal coating his entire shaft and leaking down your thighs.

Whimpering out as you came down from your high, John thrusted just a few more time before moaning low in his throat, shoving deep into you, filling you up completely before he released himself inside your walls.

His cum, thick and plentiful, spurted into you, making you whine out at the feeling of it splashing against your walls, your entire body flushed as you panted, exhausted and spent, your throat and voice raw.

“Bloody hell.” John panted, staying inside you as he lowered himself onto you, his arms on either side of your face holding him up while he tried to catch his breath. “Are you okay?” He mumbled after a moment, pressing kisses to the apples of your cheek.

“Never better.” You panted out, letting out a short and light chuckle before you reached an arm up and placed it onto his cheek. “Are you?”

Leaning into your palm, his eyes finally seemed to have calmed the storm, instead holding a loving look towards you. “Definitely a lot better.” He smiled.

Carefully, he rolled onto his side, taking you with him, refusing to pull out as he pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you.

“I love you.” He murmured, kissing the top of your head.

“I love you too.” You replied, closing your eyes as you snuggled into him. “If you’re ever angry, you know where to find me.” You teased and John let out a rumbling laugh, kissing the top of your head again.

But then again, he was definitely considering on taking you up on that offer.

[jazzyoranges]

Recollections of the past

Tara Carpenter x fem!reader

Summary: when you die, Tara struggles living without you

Words: 2k

A/n: thanks for all the love on ‘birthdays and stress’ :D

Warnings: scream 6 spoilers, major character death, angst, hurt/comfort (but mostly hurt), blood, crying, mention of sex

Tara swears she can hear angels sing when you catch her eye. She looks at you, and her heart soars. It might’ve been the booze, it might’ve been the second-hand weed, but something came over her when you looked at her with the utmost adoration. Tara can’t control her body when she starts to lean in closer, and you end up closing the gap.

Your lips fit together like you’d done this hundreds of times before. You pull the smaller girl on top you, and Tara sighs like she’s just been accepted into heaven. Her hands tangle into your hair, and it’s your turn to sigh as she starts to massage the back of your head.

Unfortunately you’re both humans that need air to breathe, but that doesn’t stop you two from diving back into each other when you’re both ready for more.

Tara made sure she had the first pleasure of saying ‘I love you’ only seconds after you asked her to be your girlfriend.

“Little miss eager, are we?”

“I’d come up with a witty remark, but i’d much rather have incredibly soft sex with you”

“God, you’re such a dork. I’m surprised we haven’t done this sooner”

“God can’t help you anymore, baby. You’re all mine, and i’m not letting you go~”

“You’re saying that like it’s a problem”

“I remember the night i realized i was in love with you. Whenever i miss you, i always think about that night. I know i’m always telling you about it, but you were just so… ethereal. I don’t think i’d ever be able to forget how you smiled at me.”

On particularly bad nights when Tara had nightmares about Amber and the Ghostface attacks, you were always there to tell her it’ll be okay. At first Sam wasn’t too approving, but you reminded her of herself. You gained Sam’s trust when you showed up at their front door in the middle of the night looking like you’d just woken up (which you did) and proceeded to let Tara cry into your neck until the sun came up.

You’d rub circles into her back and massage the back of her head until your hands were numb, and the circulation of blood has long since left your fingers. Even before you two were official, you’d give Tara the most tender kisses you could offer her.

When you kissed her nose, she’d scrunch it up and give you the tiniest smile. When you kissed her cheek, she’d giggle and mumble ‘That tickles’ in a barely audible whisper. Finally, when you kissed her forehead, her wrinkles would disappear like they were never there. Only then would you start to lay Tara back down on her bed and let the smaller girl sleep until the afternoon

Tara found your smell intoxicating like a drug. She needed it to sleep, go outside, or do anything. She just need you around her at all times. Tara would steal your clothes just for the days you couldn’t be in her apartment.

“I haven’t washed any of your clothes. Sam tells me they’ll grow mold, but i’d keep them either way. Your mom let me take home most of your clothes. Sometimes i wish you’d bought more so i wouldn’t have to use the same ones every night.”

It’s been 3 weeks since you’ve died, and Tara hasn’t gotten used to the idea of you not being home. After long nights under the sheets with her, you’d make Tara something to eat every single morning after. Your aftercare didn’t stop until you decided your girlfriend was well taken care of.

Breakfast in bed, relaxing baths, Tara may as well be the queen of England with how much you spoiled her. More often than not, you’re up and awake hours before Tara. You use this time to clean up and tidy until your next round of fun times.

You’d wash her clothes, prepare her bag for classes, and clean up the strewn about clothes from the night before. When Tara woke up, she’d be able to hear the sizzling of bacon on a pan, and your less-than-ideal-singing. Tara found it adorable when you’d mess up a lyric or try and hit a high note.

Tara still woke up to bacon sizzling and music in the background, but your voice was no longer there. Maybe you just got tired from singing? Yeah. Definitely that. Tara waited for you to arrive in her room. You usually came in around 9:30 am, but the clock quickly turned into 10:00 am, 11:00 am, 12:00 pm and even 1:00 pm. Before she knew it, Sam was spoon feeding her at 10:00 pm and you still weren’t there.

“Whenever i smell breakfast and you’re not in bed with me, i always assume you’ll come bursting through the door with a smile on your face with a tray of my favorite food. I’ve spent hours waiting for you to show up, but you never do.”

It’s been 2 months since you died, and Tara hadn’t left her room in days. Sam was growing more and more concerned as time passed. She didn’t want to admit it, but Sam was scared. What was she supposed to do in this situation? Her baby sister was hurting, and she wasn’t able to take away her pain. Sam wasn’t dumb. She saw how you two looked at each other. There was nothing but love.

Sam didn’t want to admit it, but you’d won her over long before she showed it. You were a good friend as well. Always offering to be a shoulder to cry on or an ear to listen. Now you were gone, and Sam didn’t know how to help Tara heal.

After a particularly long night at work, Sam wasn’t met with the silence of an apartment, but the crying of her sister. Sam wanted to do something, but she didn’t know what. So for now she’d be the shoulder to cry on, just as you had been for the Carpenter sisters.

A nervous Sam opened Tara’s door, and she was met with her younger sister curled in a ball while wearing your shorts and shirt. Sam felt tears prick at her eyes from the sight, but she had to be strong. She had to be there for her baby sister. Slowly walking toward Tara’s bed, Sam leaned down to meet her eyes.

“…Sammy?” Tara croaked, and Sam could feel her heart shatter. Tara’s eyes were bloodshot red and her eye bags were such a dark color they rivaled her freckles. Tears were a constant stream on her face, leaving a damp spot on her bedsheets.

“Oh, Tara…” was all Sam could manage before she got into bed with her younger sister. Sam felt like a mother rocking her baby to sleep after a bad dream. God, Sam wished this was a bad dream. The older sister didn’t believe in any deity or god, but that night she prayed. Sam prayed to whoever out there would listen. She prayed her sister would be alright. She prayed her sister would be able to heal. She prayed for this to be a nightmare, and that you’d be alive and breathing the next day. Her last prayer never came true.

“On really bad days, i wear your clothes and put a heat pad on my stomach and pretend it’s you holding me. Sometimes in the middle of the night i can feel a warmth around me. I used to think it was you, but it ended up being Sam trying to comfort me.”

It’s been a year since you died, and Sam has been urging Tara to go outside more. It started off as easy and simple things. Getting groceries, going to the movies, and checking out books at the library. Tara actually got the number of a very pretty librarian. She was beautiful, kind, and sweet. Tara would’ve said she was the one before she’d met you. The librarian — whose name was Katie — asked Tara for her number.

Sam said this could be good for Tara, but they both knew this could only end in one way. Despite this, Tara agreed to a first date. Then a second date. And then a third date at Katie’s apartment.

But Tara’s heart was never in in. Tara felt bad she was wasting such an amazing girl’s time. Her wake up call was when Katie kissed her, and she didn’t feel your lips on hers. Tara cried, and Katie understood she wasn’t the right one. The brunette apologized and apologized, but Katie knew her heart was elsewhere after the first date.

“When other people kiss me, it doesn’t feel right. It feels like i’m cheating on you. I think about the disappointed look you’d have on your face when i come home, but you’re not there to give it to me. I know you’d want me to move on, but i don’t think i can.”

You died ferociously protecting Tara. Punches, kicks, and bites were exchanged. You fought, and you fought hard. But ultimately, protecting Tara was always bound to be your demise. You were battered and bruised when Ethan took the bag off your head.

“Y/N!”

“Not a step closer, Tara.” He pointed the gun at your head. “Or your precious girlfriend over here gets it”

“Fuck you.”

“A lover for a lover. If Richie can’t be alive, neither can she.” He pushes the gun closer to your head, and you have to suppress a shiver at how it’s covered in blood. “You sisters don’t deserve to be happy”

You look up at Tara, and both of you know one person between you two is going to come out of this alive. You decide it’s going to be Tara.

‘I love you’ are the last words you mouth to your girlfriend before you use all your body weight to knock down Officer Bailey and Quinn. A bullet is in your skull less than a second later.

“I still have nightmares, but they’re mostly about you. They’ve gone down with time, but some nights i have to see your face. I can’t tell whether it’s a curse or a blessing most times”

You died when you were only 22. Young and bright-eyed, you were still able to change the lives around you. Mindy shared many of your interests, Anika was your best friend, Chad learned about his love of football through you, and Sam was the sister you never had. But most importantly, you were the love of Tara’s life.

Tara wished she photographed every single moment she had with you. she knows better now. After your death, Tara spent more time with her family — which Chad named ‘The Core Four’. There were sleepovers, game nights, and movie nights way more often now, as per Tara’s request.

Moments with you were only in memory, and she vowed to never let your name leave her mind. So, Tara started to write. At first it was memories and fun moments with you, but it quickly turned into her experiences with Ghostface, and the story of her life. This was only meant for herself, though. Tara saw firsthand how media affects real life.

“I know how much you loved red velvet, so i got you a cupcake. It’s from a new bakery i know you’d like” The brunette sets down a red velvet cupcake with cream cheese frosting and a candle at the base of your headstone.

The shorter girl looks up at the sky, and is met with a rapidly setting sun. “Well it’s getting dark, and i have to leave soon. I don’t want to worry Sam.”

Tara opens a heart-shaped locket around her neck with a picture of you and her in it. Bringing it to her lips, a few stray tears run down her face. “Happy 24th birthday, my love”

[candlewaxandp0lar0ids]

this is halloween || felix x reader

Summary: Felix's world is filled with nightmarish, energy-stealing creatures that others cannot see. In this cold, dark world that's made him who he is, you're the only thing that's warm and bright.

Word count: 4k

Genres: and they were roommates, urban fantasy

Warnings & Tags: angst, bad boy!felix (ish), non-descriptive sex scene (rated M), hurt/comfort (i think?), horror themes though nothing gets too explicit, potentially disturbing descriptions of monsters

A/N: Third installment in my Halloween mini-series, or: the author has whump!felix brain-rot and insists on making it everyone else's problem

I.N. · Seungmin

Felix walks like he has nowhere to go and no one to come home to. Hands in his pockets, shoulders lax, leaning back, lollipop stick between his lips, leisurely pace, eyes straight ahead. He looks like he doesn’t have a care in the world, not in a light-hearted, innocent, naïve way, but in a nonchalant, bored, cynical approach. Truth be told though, you would be closer in saying that the world does not care for him. Of that he’s well-aware.

He sees it in the looks he get by the well-meaning, law-abiding citizens that naturally make way for him, scared away by his long, bleached blonde hair, his ripped jeans or his leather jacket. He heard it in the whispers about the ‘problem child’, his mother’s crying, all of his teachers’ stern tone as they told him he needed to stop causing issues. He felt it in the way people tense around him, in how they changed their attitude once the atmosphere he brought with him everywhere he went settled on them and started eating at them the same way it cannibalized on him.

More than anything, he knows the world does not care because, as the tentacles of the creature that latched on to him earlier today tighten on his shoulders, as he crosses path with a disembodied, rotting ghoul that leaves a trail of mold behind it, as he notices from the corner of his eyes the nightmarish swirl high up in the sky of bat-like hope-eaters, if the world did care, he would not have been cursed with the ability to see all of these things when no one else did.

He rolls one of his shoulders, trying to make the grip looser. It works, barely, but all he can do is hope that it didn’t spark the creature’s interest. If there’s one thing he’s learned, in his years of life with this this accursed talent, it is that it is never a good idea to catch their interest. It’s not like there are no ways of getting rid of them once you do, but the ones he’s found have always been long and painful and he’s not in the mood for fighting tonight.

He picks up the pace to make it to the other side of the street, and gets a rush of fresh air when, for a second, the entity lets go of him. It doesn’t last. It gets its hold back on him, and he grits his teeth to make it less obvious how aware he is of it. Other people don’t realize it when those things happen, not as acutely. They get tired, they get depressed, they might get sick, but they don’t know. He does.

It’s no trouble for him to get into the building he was headed towards. The crowd of people in disguises doesn’t resist him any more than that of the commuters. Behind him, the entity shrinks itself to follow him inside. He doesn’t look up at it, doesn’t want to. The disgusting mass of tentacles that part only to reveal a wide mouth filled with too many teeth aren’t any worse than the shit he deals with every day, but it’s not a sight you get used to. Not fully.

He climbs the stairs that are filled with drunk college students, chatting college students, laughing college students. Some of them have gone heavy on the make-up, but none of them, not even the ones that tried their hardest to paint gaping wounds on their faces, get close to his  reality. It’s probably better off that way.

Finally, he gets to the apartment for the party you’ve asked him to come to. Well, that’s not exactly how it went — you said ‘I’d love it if you were here’, ‘You don’t have to’, and when you’d last seen him ‘I’ll see you tonight?’ in a hopeful tone that had gone right to his heart. He gets some looks as he gets in. Some of them are interested ones. He’s well-aware that people find him attractive, that the energy that surrounds him works as a magnet on some. He also knows that it doesn’t do people any good to be around him. It’s not long before the creatures start wearing them down, digging black circles under their eyes, hollowing their cheeks. Turns out, Felix is shockingly resistant to all that shit, insistent on surviving it. Ha. What a fucking joke.

He finds you on the edge of a room, chatting with a few people. You’re dressed as a witch, long black dress, hoops earrings, a black, pointy hat on your head. Your signature big, round glasses, are perched on your nose.

When you spot him, you wave him over, and he comes without giving it a second thought.

“You made it!” you chirp. You wrap one of your hands around his arm to pull him in the small circle, and he almost shivers at your touch. You’re warm. Felix’s world is cold, energy sucked out of it by more monstrous beings that he’ll ever meet. Other people are always warmer than he is. The difference is, you don’t get drained around him. “That’s Felix,” you introduce him to the others. “My roommate.”

Felix sees their faces light up in recognition. Obviously, they've heard about him before. There’s a short round of introduction from their side before they resume to their previous conversation.

“I’m getting something to drink,” he tells you, leaning in to speak in your ear, both because he likes the way you react and because the music’s so loud. “You want some?”

A smile, you shake your head. Your hand brushes against his back as he leaves and fuck, it’s embarrassing that he knows that this is what will keep him going. He glances in your direction as he walks away, checking that nothing that was following him has attached itself to you. It hasn’t. There’s an entity curled lazily against the ceiling, dipping long, skinny tentacles around the room, feeding on the energy, but you and your group seem to be mostly left alone. It makes him feel more relieved than it should, and he hates that he knows it’s less because you’re safe and more because he thinks it would kill him if he lost your warmth and the safety you provide him.

You’d come in his life as a blessing with no warning. He had recently been evicted and was couch-surfing in other people’s apartments when Wooyoung had first mentioned your name to him. You had a free room, he’d said. You were looking for a new person to fill it, he’d said. You were ‘a bit shy, but sweet’, he’d said. Felix had not thought for a second that it would work out. It never did. He’d be lucky if he found a one-bedroom apartment with no heating in the shittiest area of the city.

Then he’d met you and had immediately distrusted your soft, distant attitude, the way you wouldn’t meet his eyes and how you shrunk yourself around him. You wouldn’t last, he thought, but since you didn’t oppose his presence, he had accepted the offer. Even if you threw him out two weeks later, that was two weeks of security that he usually wasn’t afforded.

That had been a year ago now.

As he grabs himself a beer — he’s learned the hard way that it’s better to stay sharp when you’re affected by his, ah, condition — he finds it hard not to find you in the room. No matter how much he tries, his eyes always land back on you. The only way to escape you is to move to another room, so he does, because he finds it fucking embarrassing, how affected he is by you, and because he never loses the nagging fear that the things that follow him around will latch on to you.

When he lands on the couch, he feels the creature tightening his grip on his arms. He grits his teeth as the cold bites him harder, as everything feels a little darker around him. Shit, that thing isn’t letting up. He takes a sip of beer, ignores the gargoyle perched on a girl’s shoulder, the imp lying on a dude’s head. He’s been long forced into indifference about these things. He can’t make a difference anyway, he’d know, he’s tried it before, so why bother? He doesn’t know them, and they’d leave him to die in the gutter if they were given the chance. He won’t dedicate a second of the energy he could use on saving himself on them.

There’s a blur of time and movement, before, eventually, you fall on the couch next to him, and his world takes colors again.

“Long day?” you ask with a sympathetic frown.

He scoffs. He only ever has long days.

“Yeah,” he just says. “You?”

A shrug.

“It was fine, actually. I’m just… not a huge Halloween fan.”

The mundane of the conversation is such a hard punch to the gut. He’d talk about how his day’s gone and how you feel about things all the goddamn time if he could.

“Why not?”

You lean closer against him, your shoulder brushing against his. He shifts so the creature doesn’t touch you. He should move away completely, he knows, that’d be the safe thing to do. He just doesn’t have the strength for it.

“It feels a bit like a circus,” you say, sounding pensive. “I get that people want to enjoy a party though, it’s not that deep, just— my family’s pretty big on traditions, it’s a big symbolic date for them. It’s weird to see other people treat it so differently, but it’s just my hang-up, you know. I don’t want to make it anyone else’s problem.”

It’s one of those things you keep bringing up, this nebulous part of your life, the ‘family’ that he’s never seen around. You’re not on speaking terms, as far as he knows, but you never bring them up, and he doesn’t ask. It’s funny, how you’re the one who visibly walks on egg-shells at all times yet he’s sure he’s more afraid of losing you than you him.

Then his phone vibrates in his pocket. He wishes he could ignore it, but it’s not a luxury he has these days. One glance at the screen, and he feels his heart freeze over. He looks up, and on the other side of the room, there’s Hyesung, staring and with a tight, forced smile on his lips. He would look perfectly inconspicuous, a young man in a sea of young people, if not for the winged demon hovering above him, its tentacles reaching out towards different members of the crowd. Unlike the entities Felix has seen around on his way here, this one is more defined, closer to representations of demons you find in human art. He knows that these things are far more of a threat than the abominations like the one feeding off of him right now.

Shit. Shit. Felix wasn't supposed to run into anyone from that group tonight. He was supposed to be around you, and normal people, and get to fucking breathe. But now, not only has Hyesung seen him, but he's looking at you with intrigued eyes, and that's about the worst thing that could happen.

Felix stands up, grabbing your hand to pull you with him.

“Let's go home,” he throws to you over his shoulder as he starts pushing his way through people without paying much attention to them.

“Already?” you ask, confused, though you don't resist him. “But you just got here.”

It wouldn't be a lie if he told you that as far as he's concerned, he saw you, which was all he cared about, but he doesn't say that.

“Not a huge fan of this crowd,” he says instead, which isn't a lie either, considering Hyesung is part of it.

“Oh,” is your answer, right as you reach the door to the apartment. Just a few more steps and you'll both be out of here, and able to find a better place to be.

If fucking Hyesung didn't appear in front of it with that superior, fake smile again.

“Long time no see, Felix,” is the first thing that make it past his lips, and Felix hears the jab for what it is. It's true that he hasn't showed up at the Headquarters in a while, true, too, that he hasn't participated much in Venom's activities as of late. Hasn't wanted to, nor felt the need to do it. When he'd joined, he had been enticed by the promise of a place free of the monsters. Knowing that he'd have to do some unsavory stuff to get it had seemed a low, low price to pay then.

A price that hadn't stopped growing since. He'd taken the wrong bargain, and now he couldn't back out. It'd be fine; he'd pay it again, he'd pay twice the price later on. He had no illusions on his ability to escape punishment. Others might have that kind of luck, but he didn't, he never had.

He just had to make sure that you wouldn't be around when he paid for it.

When Hyesung tilts his head to get a better look at you and his lips stretch out into a wider smile, one that is unsettlingly cheerful.

“Hi, I don't think we've met, I'm—”

“Yeah,” Felix interrupts him, taking a threatening step towards him without letting go of you. “You haven't met.”

Hyesung's expression shifts. Above him, the demon gives a lazy flap of wings. Felix doesn't have long.

He feels you squeeze his hand, and your silent support allows him to breathe in again. He hasn't even explained anything to you, yet you're giving him your trust, and that makes him feel like he can fly. Which is more or less the kind of miracle he's going to need if he wants to make it out of here.

Demons, like the kind hanging above Hyesung's head, are somewhat able to interact with the physical world. The others are here, but they can't do anything, can't move objects, definitely can't make humans do things. Demons... might. It's not true of all of them, but Felix suspects that Hyesung's climbed the hierarchy within Venom high enough that his companion is one of the powerful ones. It makes him dangerous. It also makes him easier to outrun.

He tightens his grip on you. He can only hope you're ready.

“I'm just trying to make a new friend!” Hyesung says with dishonest warmth. “You know, we're always looking for people to join—”

When Felix's fist catches him in the jaw, he really, really should have seen it coming. After pulling that kind of shit, it's 100% on him if it caught him by surprise. It seems to, since he stumbles back as conversations around you quiet down and all eyes focus on the three of you — the three of you others can see, that is. Felix has no intention of sticking around to entertain though, and next thing he knows, he's running.

He feels the brush of the demon, feels the mouthy abomination's tentacle push him off as if to say 'hey that one's mine', which, ha, isn't that ironic. He doesn't doubt that the demon could kill the other thing in a fight, but it slows him down enough that, when Felix flies down the stairs with you in tow, it's not right behind him, and that's all he needs. It's not his first rodeo.

You certainly keep up surprisingly well, considering this isn't a daily occurrence for you. You also don't seem to hesitate as Felix darts into an alley way and presses you against a door. He doesn't have long, the abomination makes him too easy to spot, but that doesn't mean he's going to drag you with him.

“Go back to the apartment,” he orders, urgency in his voice. “Don't go back in there, okay? I'll meet you there.”

“But what about—”

“I've got this,” he promises, and no matter how tired he gets, it's still the truth. He's always made it out okay. There's no reason for this to be any different.

“Be careful,” you whisper. He wishes you hadn't, because, fuck, how he's supposed to not give in now?

He kisses you, hard and rough, tries to get everything he can out of that stolen moment. You're soft and warm against him. He wants to melt into you and never have to step foot into his life again. Instead, he tears himself from you as you gasp for air.

“Go home,” he tells you again, and then he takes off. The demon takes the bait, passes by you without even seeing you, and Hyesung isn't far behind.

As Felix runs for his life, the thought that in doing that, he's keeping you safe, gives him, for the first time in forever, someone to run home to.

It's late when he makes it back to the apartment. His legs carry him more out of habit than through conscious thought — of that, he doesn't have much left. A fresh burn, left by the demon, runs over his forearm. Over him, the abomination's worse for the wear, but it's refused to let go of him through the entirety of the run, and it fought like hell to keep him to himself, when the demon briefly caught up.

Eventually, Felix managed to lose him by barreling through one of these tight alleys filled with shops. The obstacles both on the floor and in the air had allowed him to effectively get rid of both the demon and the human and as far he knows, they don't know where he lives. Not yet anyway. He didn't know how long he still had for that. He knows that he can't let that aspect of his life catch up with you but, fuck, he thinks it just might kill him. To know that he had you and to now lose you again— he doesn't know how he's supposed to ever get over it.

His feet slowly take him up the stairs, dragging more and more until finally he grabs the doorknob. Almost immediately, the door's pulled open, and you're there, standing in front of him, taking him in, eyes searching his face first, then the rest of his body. Finally relief overtakes you and you pull him inside.

Behind him, the tentacles snap one by one as he walks through the door. The last few ones still holding on break off when the door closes. That is another one of the miracle, one he cannot explain. Going to sleep used to be the worst part of his day, the one when he knew he'd have to close his eyes despite the fact that the monsters were all around him, feeding off of him. He'd have to feel his energy being slowly depleted as he laid there, desperate for sleep to take him so he could wake up without feeling rested.

The monsters never come in here. He doesn't know why. It's not quite the first time he's seen it; clearly some people are less targeted than others. As far as he's concerned, you are the one that keeps the monsters at bay, and that's why, as your hands reach up for his face like you want to check that he really is there, that he's safe, whispering quiet 'thank you's under your breath he, once more, cannot hold back.

His fingers wrap around your wrists, because he'll crumble if you keep touching him like that, and he kisses you again. He's got less adrenaline in his system, so it's not as harsh as the previous one, and you meet all of his desperation with softness. You intertwine your fingers with his, let him take the lead. You whimper when one of his cold hands sneaks under your shirt, brushing against the hot skin of your stomach.

“Sorry,” he mumbles into your lips, without taking his hand off, and then he kisses you again.

You both stumbles through the hallway before your back hits the door to your room. That is always where the two of you end up on nights like these. Not that he gets chased home that often, but on the nights when he just can't resist the thought of having you, it's on your bed that the two of you come crashing down. Neither of you ever speaks of these nights. He makes sure he's gone by the time you wake up, and he's not in a situation where he can be the person you deserve. You have nothing to do in his world anyway, you're an anomaly, a miracle that a God who took pity on him must have wanted to send his way.

He always wonders if you know how badly he cares, if you know you're the only one for him. He wonders if he should tell you he loves you, or if it would be unfair to you, when he knows he won't stay around in your world for long.

So as he strips you of your clothes with feverish hands, presses biting kisses against your neck while you arch into him, whines and whimpers falling from your lips, he does his best to let you know. 'I love you', his careful movements say as he kneels between your legs. 'I love you', his eyes when he takes in your panting silhouette. 'I love you', his open-mouthed kisses trailing down all over your body.

He revels in the way your body trembles under his tongue, and when he finally pushes into you with a grunt, no matter how much he tries to keep himself from falling deeper into you, he can't help it anymore. You push yourself on your elbows, fingers tracing his jaw, and you pull him in for a kiss, and Felix is just gone. You're too soft, too caring, too good for him.

Later, with his arm wrapped around you, while you're lying on his chest and he's letting his fingers run over your back, he hears his own voice rise up in your room.

“You're not going to ask? About earlier?”

There's a long silence. He wonders if you've fallen asleep.

“Do you want me to?” you ask after long seconds have passed by, your voice quiet.

He— He's not sure, if he's being honest. He, selfishly, wants you to care. He wants you to want to know. But if you do, if you find out about everything that crawls and flies and walks in this world by your side without you being able to see them, if you're pulled in his world in worse ways, it will only ever hurt you. No good can come out of it.

He's mulling over it when you look up at him.

“If you tell me, you'll regret it when you wake up.”

There's such sadness in your voice that he feels like he's just been kicked in the chest. He's sure that you're talking about how he flees in the morning, how he never talks about these late nights, how distant he can be. He doesn't want you to feel that way. He doesn't want you to think, even for a second, that it's your fault.

Because it's all too much, because he can't tell you all that, because he knows the words will come out all wrong if he tries, he kisses you again, and he can only pray that you can tell from the strength of it, from how he cradles your face. You let yourself sink into his kiss and into his arms.

“I never regret it,” he tells the room much, much later, in the dead of night, when your breathing is even. And his voice cracks when he tests the way other words sound said aloud for the very first time.

“I love you.”

so this felix is very similar to my jealousy, jealousy felix but this is a story that i've had in mind for an eternity. i absolutely loved writing it, felt fun going for something outside of my comfort zone. i don't know yet if i'll write more for this universe. would love to know your thoughts on it since this story was very precious to me, and if you don't feel like leaving a comment, please consider reblogging to help the story circulate <3

permanent taglist: @lethallyprotected @jisuperboard

[braxiations]

Hylics - The PoolWayne Theory

Preamble

So, I’ve never really seen many Hylics theories be shared online. Most of what I’ve found is limited to discord servers like the Hylemxylem. So, I thought I might put my foot into the ring and share one of my own!

Now, this theory is pretty out there. I’ve done quite a lot of examining of both Hylics 1 and 2 and to my knowledge nothing contradicts my theory. I believe my idea explains quite a lot of things pretty well and adds some fun subtext to a lot of plot beats and history. However, it’s not the pure result of thorough evidence and 100% rational thinking. It’s basically a fun idea that explains some things and, in my opinion, is interesting.

The Wayne-poolman connection

To start, I’d like to point out an odd association between poolmen and Waynes. This is first seen before we even know what poolmen are: back at the Waynehouse. Here, we see Waynes slapping poolmen dummies as training. 

Now, it’s likely that this is because poolmen are Gibby’s  main infantry, and this is a point I’ll return to soon. Secondly, is Gibby Redivivus’ design. Atop his head is a Wayne head… or is it? While this is also called a warpo head by some, in actuality it’s literally just the poolman model’s head colored yellow. 

Poolmen’s heads are crescent shaped, so this makes sense. My thought upon learning this was “ha, are Waynes basically just yellow poolmen?” Well… Looking at the chibi sprites for both Wayne (or Sat-Wayne as I’ll call him) and poolmen do reveal a pretty clear similarity. While poolmen’s heads flop around so much in battle it’s hard to notice them as crescents, whenever shown as static or simplified they generally are shaped as such. 

Now, all of this is to establish that I believe poolmen and Waynes to be mirrors or counterparts to one another in some way. Personally, I think this was actually intended by Mason himself. As you’ve probably noticed though, this post is far from over.

Why does Gibby look like that?

Specifically, why does Gibby R wear a Wayne/warpo/poolman-dipped-in-yellow-paint head anyway? As many know, Gibby’s design in Hylics 2 differs from his design in H1 because it originally belonged to a (probably) different character, Fuller. In-universe, however, Gibby’s body is referred to as a “vessel.” His remains were likely put into or molded into this form by Odozeir and his followers. So, why on Fingerhead’s beige Earth would he endow him with THE FACE OF THE GUY WHO MURDERED HIS BOSS? Well, it seems that Gibby has been repping this symbol since longgg before his reconstitution, just not as a face. 

In the platforming mini-games, we get our only look at the world before the Accretion. This confirms a few interesting points: 

There was at least 1 other Wayne pre-Accretion, being Sat-Wayne himself. (Likely a Waynehouse too.)

A Hylemxylem (likely the one that became the Moon) existed pre-Accretion. (Seen in the bg.)

Gibby and Odozeir were allied before the Accretion. (Their faces are on flags together.)

This last note about the flags is important as the Gibby face used is his Redivivus design. As this was being used on flags way back when, it stands to reason that Odozeir fashioned Gibby’s vessel after the symbol itself. Likewise, this would also mean that the Waynehead was being used as part of Gibby’s iconography back then too… which is strange.

Waynes as an army

The nature of Waynes is a question that dances around the edges of Hylics 2, but it never really addresses it outright. Here’s what we know:

Waynes have a huge grudge against Gibby. They seemingly spend much of their time training in the event he becomes a problem again.

They’re all equipped for combat, seemingly naturally. They do have to train and they spend much of their time doing so.

They’re seemingly all clones of one another or something analogous. They can have some differences (some are more well-trained, at least one is either fem or trans (if Decres is canon), etc,) but most are identical. 

Waynes are kind of a problem, at least in the Hylics 2 zone. Chuck, when speaking of his writing process for An Endless Cycle, stated that he wanted to invoke this feeling. With the seemingly mutant Waynes we’ve seen in the New Hylics teasers, Waynes might be growing out of control, taking a role similar to that of invasive species. Tl;dr: they probably aren’t a part of the local natural order.

Perhaps Waynes are entirely natural, eusocial organisms like ants and their soldier-like training simply comes from the fact that they’re sapient. Their contentious placement in the Hylics 2 ecosystem could merely be them being invasive. Their single-minded grudge against Gibby could be explained in a few ways. If H1-Wayne is indeed the Old Wayne from H2, perhaps he dedicated his… children(?) to keep Gibby at bay because it was his most notable accomplishment. Where this explanation might falter is the Wayne head symbol used by Gibby, which is still left entirely unexplained. 

So… what if the symbol came first?

The theory What we know of the Wayne species’ nature, as listed in the previous section, is highly reminiscent of sci-fi ideas of modified super soldiers. In the Star Wars prequels, for example, literal clones meant only for combat are a prevalent plot point. While Waynes as ant-soldiers sufficiently explains many of these traits, the idea that Gibby’s yellow crescent predates the Waynes could only leave an artificial origin as an option. Now, of course, this point that Gibby’s symbol is older than Waynes themselves can’t be proven for certain. The oldest point in the timeline we have access to shows Sat-Wayne coexisting with the symbol. If one was older than the other we’d have no idea. What strikes me as odd, though, is why Gibby would ever associate himself with Waynes. While we don’t know if they’ve always had an antagonistic relationship, Sat-Wayne (who is again, the first Wayne we know of,) spends much of his time attacking Gibby and Odozeir’s forces. The conflict between the two groups has been ongoing, and it seems odd Gibby would choose to honor a species that has constantly attacked him for so many years without strong reason.

With this in mind, I will propose my theory: Waynes are not a naturally occurring species. Rather, they are the descendents of poolmen fashioned into super-soldiers by none other than the forces of Gibby. As such, they were changed to resemble the yellow crescent used as a symbol of Gibby for so long. Now, the manner through which this was done isn’t super important. I like to think they were selectively bred, but it’s just as possible they were genetically modified or given some of Gibby’s royal goop. It’s really just speculation.

As we have established, poolmen may be some of the primary infantry used in Gibby’s armies, especially pre-Accretion. (I would like to suggest that poolmen are the koopas of Gibby’s army, and tyros are the goombas.) With their strong resemblance to Waynes, it stands to reason that Gibby, looking for more capable soldiers, would use the poolmen as a basis. While poolmen are capable of speech, they’re generally represented as animalistic. Their only gestures used are lambaste and multiply, as well as the ability allotrope. As lambaste is literally just hitting someone, multiply is clearly their reproduction, and allotrope is a reflex, it stands to reason they aren’t capable of the hand movements required to use actual complex gestures. (They don’t even seem to have hands.) Other enemies such as the noncomfornist clearly show this ability. Thus, it stands to reason that Gibby would seek soldiers capable of doing such things. In fact stronger, modified poolmen are clearly seen in the form of poolmagnes, but they still don’t achieve these heights.

Many stories of advanced combat technology involve betrayal or an uprising from the technology itself. Thus, we may be able to explain why Waynes hate Gibby so much anyways. Created as sapient soldiers, Waynes would effectively be slaves. They would have no choice but to fight and participate in the tyrant’s cruelty. It seems likely that they would have rebelled, and Gibby may have retaliated harshly.

Sat-Wayne is alone in the Waynehouse he emerges from. H1-Wayne is clearly the only member of his species in the Hylics 1 zone. Many have noticed that the redesign of the Ghost enemies bear a strong resemblance to the skulls of Waynes. Further elaboration falls into pure speculation, so I’ll let you come to your own conclusions here.

Ultimately, we’re left with the following timeline:

Gibby employed poolmen for war.

Wanting stronger soldiers, he ordered his forces to create a more powerful breed of poolman, capable of complex reasoning and the use of gestures.

These Waynes proved too intelligent and rebelled.

Gibby reacted harshly, wiping out nearly all of them.

This begs the question of why Gibby still, by the time of Hylics 2, choses to use the yellow crescent symbol. I think this could be explained as a form of denial. If he casts aside a symbol that was always his simply because rebels used it, he would essentially be admitting defeat. Besides, an NPC in New Muldul talks about wretched anarchists who overthrew Gibby, not realizing who he’s talking to. The fact that a Wayne was responsible for killing Gibby might not be common knowledge. Gibby can simply ignore the uprising and continue to use it.

Other notes and convenient ties

One of my favorite parts of this theory is that it retroactively explains some other oddities in the games. For example, Wayne heads notoriously occur throughout the world or even on jars. If the crescent is a symbol of Gibby, who we know has influence throughout much of the world, this is rather easily explained. 

It gives us an association between Gibby and the Waynes. Many have pointed out that both have names in reference to the moon: gibbous moons and waning moons. Gibby is notoriously prideful and arrogant, so perhaps he intended the Waynes to be made in his image, giving them a similarly lunar name. 

It could explain the moon soldiers and their weakness. Many have noticed their resemblance to Waynes. Perhaps, after the rebellion of the Waynes, Gibby still desired more powerful soldiers. Moon soldiers could easily just be another artificial variety of poolmen, making them basically the cousins of Waynes. Their intense weakness could be attributed to avoiding the pitfall of making soldiers that are too powerful again. Maybe he hoped someone would see the Moon covered in soldiers and simply decide to back off. (It’s worth noting that moon soldiers might not be nearly as weak as we see them. Rather, the joke might be that at this point in the game Wayne and crew have become so strong that they’re killed in an instant.)

The fighting instinct of Waynes could explain the depression, purposelessness, and exhaustion of H2-Wayne that we see explored in Absent Moon. With this theory, Waynes would literally only exist to fight. Having defeated his greatest enemy, Wayne no longer has a purpose in life. Perhaps this lack of purpose has caused unrest in the Waynehouse, and will lead into the events of the New Hylics game that features monstrous, creature-like Waynes. 

Old Wayne remarks on the “forecasts” of the stars, apparently able to glean meaning from them. Perhaps an ability to read celestial bodies is a holdover from their days as Gibby’s soldiers. While the Hylemxylem had not yet developed into the false moon of Hylics 1, this may have been planned. Perhaps the Moon could have sent or shone signals for the Old Wayne to interpret and relay to the Waynes under their command. 

Warpos could essentially be reverted to an older, primal state by their consumption of poolwine. This doesn’t make much sense biologically but whatever.

Random biology notes

Poolmen probably contain hard, spiny components akin to the spicules found within sponges. These spicules would be poked out of their bodies in their allotrope attack. Perhaps this developed into the skeletons of Waynes. The way Wayne’s flesh and muscles melt off of him upon death is similar to how poolmen melt upon their own deaths.

Poolmen multiply and reproduce asexually, likely meaning they’re all more or less genetically identical to one another (there would be errors of course.) Wayne reproduction is more or less elusive, but their status as clones and low genetic diversity could be a remnant of their poolman ancestors.

I have a theory that the “egg pods” we see in the Waynehouse basement might be the Wayne equivalent of the hylethems that produce poolmen. However the connection between poolmen, hylethems, and hylem as a whole is a story for another time.

Summary and conclusion

I believe that Waynes are a sort of poolmen. They were either genetically modified or selectively bred from normal poolmen, as Gibby wanted to employ them as soldiers capable of complex thinking and use of gestures. These Waynes proved too powerful and intelligent, rising up against their creator. He had many of them slaughtered, creating a grudge that would last countless years and influence the Wayne species for the rest of time. 

That’s basically it. Thanks for reading! If you have any thoughts, counterpoints, or additional ideas please feel free to share! I’d really like to discuss this with people!.

[basicbunnyboo]

I Would

A Lucifer x Reader Fic

A.N. I am so sorry about the lack of posts. Next up will be a Vox x Reader, probably with yandere vibes because that seems to be a point of interest. Let me know if any of you have ideas, requests, headcanons, etc I’d love to hear from you all

A fight with Reader’s mentor goes wrong and Lucifer helps them pick up the pieces.

It wasn’t new. The whole “taking someone in to mold them in their image”. I knew it wasn’t the healthiest. How she would correct anything that wasn’t in the way she wanted. Posture, wording, smile, emotions. Anything. But I’m her favorite. I’ve never been someone’s favorite.

She took me in. She taught me. How to survive. How to thrive in Hell. I couldn’t just… leave. She didn’t have my soul, but she didn’t need it. I was her child. Her favorite.

I needed her. And she needed me.

Right?

————

This hotel was a waste. There would be nothing to come from this. Just the opportunity to get close to Miss Princess. And who better to send than her protégée?

“Dear.”

They perked up, “Yes, miss?”

A small smile, straight posture, slight exhaustion showing, but she’ll excuse it.

She lifted their chin, looking them over, “Have you heard about the little hotel Ms. Morningstar is hosting?”

“No, miss. Would you like me to look into it?”

She smiled, gently patting the side of their cheek, “No need. I just need you to go and watch over. The Morningstars would be a valuable asset if you can win over the princess. Can you do that for me?”

They nodded, their smile never fading, “Of course, miss.”

“Good.”

————

Oh fuck.

I’m screwed.

She asked one simple thing. Get close to Charlie Morningstar. And I did that.

But she’s so… nice. How is the princess of Hell so nice?

I thought it was a ruse to convince sinners to come, try to redeem themselves, and then she would swoop in and make a deal. Her assistance for… something

But no. She’s just nice.

Nice.

Not just her. Vaggie and her awkward but genuine assistance, Angel with his comfort, Husk with his advice, Pen with his little gifts, Al with his gentle words, Nif with her roach-themed crowns, and Lucifer.

The root of the problem.

King of Hell. Lucifer Morningstar. Leader of the Pride Ring.

An absolute nerd. Adorable dork. Duck enthusiast.

“Hey! I finished Charlie’s gift, but I think something is missing. What do you think?”

He sat on the counter as I stayed in my seat. He continued listing off how he made the duck. What kind it was, what he thought was cool about it, and then some.

And I couldn’t focus on a damn thing he said.

“What do you think?”

That stupid smile. When was the last time I saw a genuine smile outside of this fucked up hotel?

I smiled softly as I gazed at him, “It’s perfect.”

He nodded, his view focused on the duck, “Okay. I trust you.”

Trust me. That’s stupid. This is Hell, you can’t trust anyone.

“Actually, maybe a bow tie?”

He lit up, giving me that bright smile again, “Perfect! This is why I come to you.”

He hopped off to go to his workshop. I just sat there and watched him leave like some lovesick puppy.

Pathetic.

“Heya, toots.”

“Don’t you even say it.”

Angel sat down next to me with the usual shit-eating grin, “Say what? That you two should just fuck already?”

My head hit the counter.

“Look,” he sighed, “I know how… she can be. But you shouldn’t let that bi- er, let her rule your life.”

I stayed silent.

She was everything. She gave me everything. How could I leave her for something as stupid as an emotion?

Angel sighed, rubbing my back.

————

He knew he couldn’t talk. He fought back to Val and he got a bloody nose and a death sentence.

But he was his favorite. Val wouldn’t kill him, but damnit he would prefer it.

————

“But dad, she does! Everybody sees it!”

Lucifer fidgeted with his old wedding ring.

He hadn’t worn it for a over month.

Was it really that long ago?

“I don’t know, Charlie. She’s too…”

“Too?”

He sighed dramatically as he leaned back, looking over his actual latest duck. He only showed them his ‘Charlie duck’ because he wanted to talk to them.

Hell, he was pathetic…

He had been married before. He should know how to be smooth.

Granted, she left him. For some reason she seemed to forget to share. Out of nowhere. Leaving him alone. With Charlie. A daughter that she purposefully tried to seperate him from… But she loved him. At least once.

Right?

“But you guys are so cute,” Charlie pouted as she leaned back on his bed, throwing her hands in the air, “I look over and you’re looking at her with that huge smile and they look back when you look away and it’s all so close but you won’t say anything and they won’t say anything and-”

A knock on the door paused her ramble, “Babe? You in there? Alastor has something he wants to show you.”

Charlie perked up, “Oh, uh…”

She looked to her dad, to which he nodded with a small smile. She smiled back and left, giving him a thumbs up.

————

The duck was similar to the others. A likeness to them, but there was a small golden apple on their head.

He couldn’t explain why he wanted to add it. But they looked good in gold. And the apple was his staple.

It definitely wasn’t his subconscious wanting to see them with a golden ring. And it certainly wasn’t him wanting a matching one.

Of course not.

————

She was smiling. That wasn’t a good sign.

“Darling, I don’t usually ask much of you. But this?” She held up the small duck, “I thought you were better than this.”

How the fuck did she find that?

“Normally,” she walked down towards me, looking over the duck, “I would have you removed from that little hotel. But if you could get the King of Hell waiting on you, then-“

“No.”

…

What the fuck did I just do?

“No?”

I paused. I was glaring at her. When did I do that? I bowed my head, trying to regain whatever respect I had left.

“I… my apologies, miss. But…”

She took a few more steps, “But?” Lifting my chin she made me look at her, “Tell me. Why is my favorite darling refusing me something so simple?”

Favorite.

A chill ran down my spine. Stiff, nervous, afraid.

Afraid?

Why should I be afraid? I’m her favorite. She said so.

Favorite.

“I don’t…” I cleared my throat, “I shouldn’t. I… He’d figure me out. He might be out of the field, but he’s not stupid.”

It was true.

She stared me down. I wasn’t telling her the real reason and she knew it. She knew it. She knew me.

“Fine.”

I looked up, confused, “Wha-”

“Either you do this for me,” she caressed my face, “or you leave. I can’t bare to see you become such a disgrace.” Her grip was tight.

A disgrace.

But I’m her favorite.

Aren’t I?

She’d forgive me. Just this once.

Right?

“You don’t have to respond,” she pat my cheek as she started to walk away, “but if you don’t come back with a good status report, don’t bother coming back at all.”

Nearly 20 minutes passed before I could move.

————

“Hello?”

They hadn’t responded to anything. Charlie hadn’t seen them so… out of it. She’d seen Angel Dust like this once when Val had his… fun. But them? They had their soul. Did something happen? Did they need a hug?

“Do you want-”

They walked past me. It was like they couldn’t see me.

Weird.

————

How did he get here?

They were hugging him like a small stuffed animal. Their face in his neck and-

Fuck. When was the last time someone was this close to him? Comfortably close. It felt like years. It felt nice. He felt nice.

He felt safe.

His ducks made him feel safe. He always had his ducks.

He thought Lilith made him feel safe. She made him feel excited, happy, even confident at times. But never safe.

So what was different?

Well, for one, they were sobbing earlier. They couldn’t talk, so he sat next to them and offered a hug. It’s easy to see what happened next.

He started running the tips of his fingers up and down their back, holding them just a bit tighter.

“It’ll be okay,” he sighed, kissing their forehead, “I got you.”

————

“I got you.”

It was so gentle.

I got you.

He did. He was right there for me.

Why?

Did I even deserve it?

Why does he care so much?

Did he want something from me?

No, that’s not him.

That I know.

So…

Why?

————

They fell asleep.

On him.

They never sleep in front of people.

Maybe he’s overthinking it. Maybe they’re just really tired. Maybe they just needed a quick fix.

That’s it. Of course it is. Nobody needs him. Not for long. Just enough to get by and get something better.

Something better than-

“Luci?”

Luci?

He liked having a nickname.

He pulled their hair out of their face, “Yes?”

“Thank you.”

…

“Anything.”

The, I’d do anything for you, died on his tongue.

————

“Anything.”

Why?

Why me?

Why him?

Was I worth it?

“Hey.”

I hummed, still not able to talk.

“She’s not worth it.”

What?

“I’ve seen you, known you, for months. You don’t need to keep yourself waiting on someone who doesn’t care about you,” he sighed. His hand pulled them closer to him. “You deserve someone who loves you. If they love you, they won’t try to change you.”

“And who the Hell do you know would do that? This is Hell, Lucifer.”

“I would.”

…

“What?”

“What?”

[nobody-nexus]

TADC Incorrect Quotes

(With have Ragatha/Pomni, Jax/Zooble if you squint, and maybe like ONE Jax/Bubble for shits and giggles)

Ragatha: As your best friend— Gangle: Zooble's my best friend? Ragatha, holding a knife: As your best friend—

====

Ragatha: Pomni is at that very special age where an adult only has one thing on their mind Caine: Boys? Pomni: Homicide

====

Pomni: You know what? When I join this friend group, I thought you guys would be dealing with my bullshit Caine, Zooble and Kinger continue screaming about mold water Pomni: Not the other way around! Bubble: I dunno, sounds like you need to drink the mold water :)

====

Gangle: How do Zooble and Jax usually get out of these messes? Ragatha: They don't. They just make a bigger mess that cancels the first one out

====

Ragatha: Just be careful, Pomni! Pomni, heading out the door: I'm always careful, Ragatha! Pomni: It's everything around me that's careless

====

Caine: I truly believe that water can solve all your problems! Gangle: Weight loss? Drink water Ragatha: Clear skin? Drink water Jax: Want to get rid of someone? Drown them.

====

Zooble: Hold on, I can explain Caine: Really? Can you now? Zooble: I can if you give me a minute to think of a convincing lie

====

Caine: You have to apologize to them Jax Jax: Fine! But I must warn you that this might make me a better, nicer person and that is NOT the person you fell in love with!

====

Gangle: I came out here to have a good time and I'm honestly feeling so attacked right now

====

Ragatha: Do you guys ever have a civilized conversation that doesn't require insulting each other every time you get a chance? Zooble: No. Jax: No. Ragatha: Didn't think so

====

Pomni: Hostage or not, sometimes it’s nice being held Ragatha: Are you okay

====

Zooble: When I get Doordash I order 20 Cheeseburgers at a time and heat them up throughout the week so that I don’t have to pay the delivery fee multiple times Ragatha: I hope you understand how food poisoning works Zooble: I hope food poisoning understands how I work. I never met a burger I couldn’t eat

====

Ragatha: Wake me up- Pomni: Before you go go Gangle: When September ends Caine: WAKE ME UP INSIDE

====

Ragatha, smugly, after security arrives to escort Jax and Pomni out: So, do you wanna walk out of here or do you wanna be carried out? Jax, in defeat: Let’s go Pomni: Wait. Jax: What? Pomni: I’d kinda like to be carried out...

====

Gangle: We have fun, don’t we, Pomni? Pomni: I have never been more stressed out in my entire life

====

Kinger: Hey Ragatha? Ragatha: Yeah? Kinger: What's your favorite color of the alphabet? True or false? Ragatha: Ragatha: ...What.

====

Jax: How high are you? Pomni: Mm, I don’t know how to say it in feet. Zooble: No, he's asking what drugs are you on Pomni: Oh, antidepressants, why?

====

Caine: It is 6:09 . Caine: I am wondering why I’m still alive. Caine: Send Wendy’s. Pomni: The whole restaurant?!

====

Zooble: I’m the smartest person in this group.... Jax: Really? Then why is your hand stuck in a vending machine? Zooble: I paid for my Mars Bar, I’m getting my Mars Bar.

====

Pomni: Which one of you was going to tell me that tea tastes different if you put it in hot water?? Jax: Y- you were putting it in cold water?? Zooble: Pomni. Answer the question, Pomni. Pomni: Yeah??? I thought people just put it in hot water to speed up the tea-ification process. didn't realize there was an actual reason. Pomni: Plus, you think I have the patience to boil water? Jax: You don't have the patience to microwave water for 3 minutes?? Zooble: Why are you putting it in the microwave to boil it? Jax: Do you think I have the patience to boil water on the stove? Zooble: It takes less than a minute. Jax: Is your stovetop powered by the f#%king sun??? Zooble: How long does it take you to boil a cup of water on the stove? Jax: Like seven minutes?? Gangle: Just stick the mug on top of the stove on medium heat and it boils in like 2 minutes... less than that if you use a saucepan! Zooble: Why are you putting the whole mug on the stove?? On medium heat?? Gangle? Your stove is enchanted! Pomni: Every single person here is a f#%king lunatic. Ragatha: Do none of you own a f#%king kettle?

====

Gangle: Guess what I'm about to get! Jax: On my nerves.

====

Zooble: Jax has discovered "deez nuts" jokes and it's all they say now. Everything is deez nuts. They simply can't stop. Zooble: I asked Jax where he learned that joke. He made me promise him wouldn't get in trouble if he told me. I agreed. Zooble: So, he leans in and whispers, "deez nuts."

====

Pomni: HELP! I TOLD RAGATHA I'D COOK DINNER TONIGHT BUT I CAN'T COOK! Jax, pouring milk directly into the cereal bag: And you thought I could help?

====

Jax: It’s impossible to make a sentence without using the letter A. Ragatha: Despite your thinking, it is quite possible, yet difficult, to form one without the specific letter. Here’s one more to further disprove your theory Pomni: F$%k you.

====

Zooble: New challenge! Don't say stupid sh!t for 24 hours!

====

Pomni: Coca Cola is a health potion, Pepsi is a mana potion Ragatha, amused: What’s grape soda? Pomni: It’s f#%king purple baby!!!

====

Zooble: It doesn’t have a bone Jax: Then why is it called a boner?

====

Pomni: Can I get a waffle? Caine and Bubble: *fighting and yelling at each other* Pomni: Can I p l e a s e get a waffle?

====

Jax: I committed all 7 deadly sins in 30 minutes Zooble: Wow, I've gotta hear this Jax: I was angry and envious of my neighbor, so I lazily seduced his wife and ate all his groceries and didn't share Ragatha: You forgot pride Jax: No, I'm pretty proud of this

====

Ragatha, trying to be cute: WOW, Pomni, you want to hold my hand before marriage? How AWFULLY lewd of you. Pomni, confused: We literally slept together yesterday? Ragatha: Eh- sweetie no that's not-

====

Caine: Can we talk about that mass email you sent? Pomni: Why? It was important Caine: All it says is, "I'm back on my sh!t". Jax, shrugging: The people need to know

====

Jax: We’re getting married, bitches! Bubble: And we're about to make it everybody else's problem

[m1d-45]

my take on sagau lore / logistics

summary: sagau lore! includes you the creator, self-awareness, khaenri’ah, celestia, literally everything i could think of

word count: ~4.1k

-> warnings: spoilers for literally everything bar the sumeru archon quests. khaenri’ah lore, kaeya + albedo lore, celestia lore, archon quests, all of it. i ramble and stray off topic and swear while doing so.

-> lowercase intended. forgive the format pls

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie

< masterlist >

ok, so, just off the top of it, let’s address the largest problem with this au, specifically my genre of it:

how can teyvat be real if it’s a game?

great question! the answer is that it’s both.

i haven’t thought this through entirely, only enough that i personally can suspend my disbelief about the fics i read, but the way i see it is that you, the creator, made teyvat a billion (or more idk) years ago. you made the people—or the animals, if you still wanna subscribe to evolution—the lands, the waters and the mountains. everything was carefully pulled and molded by your hands, your influence stretching to how the wind blew.

(that’s because the god who controls it wants your attention so badly but whoooo that’s cultish territory)

anyway. fast-track past the archon war, yeah? after that was sorted, you began to hand out visions, personally at first before assigning celestia to do so. there were simply too many people, and you could not judge them all. it would not be fair.

so you didn’t.

but i’d be lying if the archon war didn’t take a toll on you. you’d been influencing it from the sidelines, carefully making sure as few innocents were harmed as possible, trying to keep the terrain intact. you were technically fighting, but on the side of teyvat itself.

(it loved you for it. every blade of grass and leaf on a stem sung your praises.)

micromanaging like that, across an entire planet, let alone trying to simultaneously set up the constellations you wanted for vision holders… you’re exhausted.

now, you could, in theory, just burrow down into the heart of the earth and rest, but that felt… impersonal, almost. you still wished to look after your world, you just wanted to have a little less responsibility while you did so.

so you left the planet, momentarily, leaving that entire universe behind, and made another. it was, admittedly, not your best work, worse than even the rest planets you tried before teyvat, but you were tired. you half-heartedly scattered some resources, salted the water, and placed the beginnings of life. with a final goodbye to celestia, you allowed your soul to rest in the core of this new planet you called ‘earth.’

now, you weren’t just going to sit there, no. as the people above lived, oblivious to the god resting in the molten core, your subconscious pulled some strings. not enough to influence wars—so many wars, so much cruelty and bloodshed—or any major occurrences, but enough to shift some small details around. these people would start a company. this game would be launched. and when you, your soul, had finally recovered from the ordeal of managing a whole planet, a child would be born.

you knew mortal minds had a hard time conceptualizing the divine, let alone dealing with the knowledge that they were one, so you made the executive decision to remove your memory. call it a product of your pity, but you decided you’d live a human life here before returning to teyvat. the world’s time difference shouldn’t make it that much longer for your lovely followers, only about a year or so, so it would be fine. you set up some dominoes, then allowed yourself to be mortal when they fell.

bad call. turns out you shouldn’t try and fudge space-time when you’re overworked and burnt out. the time dilation ended up being reversed, meaning an average life of 80 years was 4,800 years for your followers.

still, not all was lost! you, human, came into contact with a device, came into contact with advertisements from a company you, god, had a heavy hand in. the world you had loved carefully recreated, admittedly with far less detail and nuance, but what could you expect of the technology at the time?

as you downloaded the game, a final domino fell into place. the traces of divinity in your blood bled into your machine, turning the screen from a screen, and into a portal.

billions of billions of light years away, exiting this universe and entering another, two twins approached your world. they had witnessed you build it all but frowned at your lack of presence. their world, one of many that you had also crafted, still was visited by you from time to time, but this... where had you gone? were your people okay?

they approached, only to be stopped by one of celestia’s guards. boiling red cubes stung the air, lashing at their sides as she—the sustainer, she said—fought. the two drew back, sharing a look, and when they dove-

your light filled the air, time seeming to slow to a crawl. your chosen traveller sucked in a breath, feeling the familiar aura envelop them. even as their twin was swallowed, as their stomach opened into a pit and their heart crumbled, as gravity took hold of their suddenly much weaker form, you were there.

and so your journey in teyvat began once more, this time not as the creator, but as the creation.

that’s the basic lore down. yes, i know ‘basic’ took nearly 1k words on its own, but oh well. anyway, now onto some other details outside of that, such as….

the raiden shogun!

the visions were signs of your favor—not that the comman man knew that, but the gods did—so why would she ever confiscate them? simple; after you had started giving out visions, you had first passed the duty to celestia, and then… left. it’s reasonable, in her mind, that the visions were sapping at your energy, keeping you away even longer. she hoped, in a twisted sort of desire, that she could hasten your return. celestia had tried to stop her, stopping giving out electro visions, but it wasn’t enough. other visions were still in her lands, and she needed to remove them. if only on her isle of eternity, anything harming you would not be allowed.

the tsaritsa!

ok, i admit, i’m not sure how much of what i’m about to say is canon. i watch too much game theory to be 100% sure that this is Actual Lore, but… whatever. so the tsaritsa is collecting all these gnoses, right? the gods’ connection to celestia? just… kinda taking them, collecting these connections, weakening celestia so she can take it down. her reasoning is very similar to ei’s, in that you created celestia and imbued it with some of your power. however, you must have accidentally given too much, wanting them to thrive, and had weakened yourself. so, she figures, by taking down celestia, she can restore you your strength!

but wait, you ask, why not do a vision hunt decree like the shogun? simple! you gave out visions before you involved celestia, so they clearly aren’t the problem. besides, she thinks there’s a lovely poetic quality to taking down celestia with soldiers bearing weapons they awarded.

delusions!

it’s people sabotaging their health to pretend their strength is god-given, not much changes in this au. there’s implications between it and the tsaritsa’s motives for gnosis-hunting—notably if she’s taking down celestia because your strength was drained, why drain the strength of her people—but that’s ~not my problem~

morax?

morax!!! silly boy. anyway, he doesn’t see any problem with stepped down as an archon, if that’s your worry. after all, you yourself left, letting the people run themself, so…. surely he could—should, even—do the same. he feels maybe a bit bad about leaving liyue without anything, but soothes himself knowing they don’t know you’re gone. most mortals don’t, really. but in a similar vein…

venti!

venti feels the same way. if anything, his conviction is even stronger. you left your people—not entirely, admittedly, but still, you did—so he should be able to as well. he knew you had left celestia in your wake, but he had left the knights! and surely, to be overly-controlling was worse, right? you had allowed decarabian to fall, so you must not want dictators(a good thing, as he doesn’t know how he’d handle you going against one of his most core virtues).

celestia!

for the sake of the au, celestia will be kinda proxy rulers of teyvat. i know there’s probably some lore out there suggesting otherwise, likely something in the 3.2-3.3 archon quests, but i haven’t done those and so it can’t be held against me. anyway, you’re tired after the war right? so you decide, as plan A, to create celestia as a council of proxy rulers, to enact your ideals—the heavenly principles—and take care of things. this goes south, because the act of creating celestia drains even more of your strength, and you really hadn’t taken a break since you started creating teyvat so maybe it’s time to pick up plan B off the back burner…

(in celestia’s opinion, burrowing into the earth should have been plan B. taking a nap in a gilded palace should have been plan C. leaving the planet entirely was the nuclear option.)

paimon!

OOOOHHHHH BOYYYYY the emotions i have about this little fairy aidjwrkfkkds

anyway. the way i see it, she’s a manifestation of the remaining divine energy in your body/teyvat. pick your favorite, the end result is the same: she’s attached to your traveller, to you, your device. she can vaguely sense the buttons you have—which is why the tutorial changes across platforms—and loves whenever you open the paimon menu, because she can bask in your light all the more. off camera, her and the traveller gush about you. canon, i said so.

anyway, she’s the one that gives us the ability to time travel so the way i see it, she has to be at least a little divine, or be able to wield power of that strength.

take a shot every time i say strength this fic

i have some feelings about the time mechanic, most notably that it’s likely an alteration of the (very scuffed) time dilation system you implemented, but i’m writing this during school hours and can’t really be bothered with trying to rationalize that. for now, just know that Its a Thing That Exists.

co-op!

if we’re operating under the ideal that your game is the only one self-aware, then how does co-op work?

um… it doesn’t—

ok ok ok uh there’s two interpretations you can go with, of which i don’t have a favorite:

Option 1: when you go to co-op, your (self-aware) characters are transported into the digital world of your companion. they’re confused, because everything seems flat and empty of detail and there’s these weird bars above enemies and HOLY SHIT IS THAT ME???

they eventually gather that this is a false recreation of teyvat, one run by another person. whether or not they can see the chat is up to you. umm regarding farming and stuff: that means tackling the inventory, which… i’ll talk about that later, i swear-

Option 2: when you enter co-op, you leave teyvat. your vessels go back to their places—again, i’ll touch on that later, promise—and your aura leaves. paimon’s the only constant, but that’s mostly because she follows you or the traveller at all times (if you don’t have your traveller on your team… wait a few paragraphs pls). she is fascinated by the digital world, more so of the replicas of your vessels within it. maybe she tells the traveller of it when they have time.

they’re kinda similar, boiling down to whether or not you want your vessels to have a cosmic-horror level freak out at the fact that that’s them. i don’t have a favorite, and usually kinda fluctuate between the two whenever it’s convenient.

the inventory!

the inventory!!! arguably the most convenient system in teyvat, of which my answer is wildly inconvenient.

the basic principle of it is that it’s a pocket dimension, much like the one paimon vanishes into. it’s a very cool pocket dimension, with a menu and filtration systems, but that’s all it is. it preserves the quality of food, it keeps things from burning each other(i. e. mist flower corollas and flaming flower stamens are right next to each other, yet the quality of both never dwindles), and generally keeps things frozen in a sort of stasis. i like to think that vessels with a good sense of detail can pick up on an odd taste/texture to the food if it’s been in there a while, with the effect lessening as the food quality(suspicious → delicious scale) and level (stars) increases, but it really doesnt impact anything all that much.

regarding co-op: this is where things get blurry. if the inventory is a pocket dimension, and co-op is fake…. the best option is to, once more, chalk it up to divinity. whether yours, as you pick them from the digital world, of the remains of your aura in teyvat, when you return.

(another option that doesn’t work as well is thinking of the inventory as a tally, as in there’s a number of items you have and when you access it the number goes down and it summons / creates the item. the number is a representation of the power stored for that specific item- kinda like the omni-ubiquity nets, i guess? anyway, this is kinda pushing things, and though i don’t prefer it, it definitely can be useful to think about in some situations, such as an imposter au where you(reader) can draw energy from the inventory via sacrificing food or supplies. that’s really cool actually wtf-)

KHAENRI’AH HOW COULD I FORGET KHAEN-

so. khaenri’ah.

….i don’t know a lot about the lore of khaenri’ah.

[one wiki check and a lot of deleted ranting later]

khaenri’ah was a godless nation. it didn’t have a god ruling over it, it didn’t have a god influencing or building it, it didn’t have a - oh my god khaenri’ah is the nation of hubristic greed.

sorry i had a revelation mid-sentence there: to clarify, khaenri’ah was built entirely by people. they may (read: did) worship a god, you, but refused to allow you to meddle with their nation. that was their creation. you could have all of teyvat—and they would give you some of their crops to try and satisfy you—but you could not have their nation. they lived underground, away from your holy light and the overbearing gaze of celestia, and in the dark of a cave with only the earth as their witness, they began to learn khemia. they began to learn how to create, how to mimic your power. theirs was more transmutation, less pure creation, but it was so close to it that rhinedottir let it get to her head. she started her program, created durin and [REDACTED]- sorry, subject two (have i mentioned how much i hate he doesn’t have a name? fucked up fr fr). eventually, finally, after many tests and trials and rifthounds, with abyssal magic beginning to stain her hands, she created synthetic life.

the port on its neck sealed into a shimmering star, crystal blue eyes fluttering open, chalk ribs expanding as it took a breath. gold watched with rapt attention, pen falling from her hand.

she’d done it.

high on joy, she kept going, neglecting her new creation, herself, neglecting even basic safety, and eventually, she had toppled the pride of man.

khaenri’ah fell.

this allows for khaenri’ans such as dainslef, albedo, and kaeya to all know of and worship you—important, since kaeya is a character we’re automatically given—while still being bitter and jaded over khaenri’ah. this keeps as much of the lore in-game as intact as possible, with the only big difference being that khaenri’ah dedicated itself to you, but it would not be influenced by you. it was toppled by its own hubris, its desire to be divine without ever worshipping the god that made them too much for mortal men to handle. they don’t hate you, and in fact the fall of their nation has made it clear that they should have respected you more. they don’t blame you for it, as it was their own desire that brought them down, but they are a little more aware of the power of a god.

FAQ!!

i don’t have the traveller on my team, how does that work lore-wise?

excellent question! i…. don’t really know—

the way i see it, this is mostly a problem attached to the concept of ‘parties’ in the first place(again, please put a pin in the idea, we’re almost there). paimon is always with us, but the traveller… since they don’t have ‘a place to be’ as with your other vessels, as you were with them from the start… you could say that they’re always with you. silently watching from the realm of stars just outside of reality, watching you level your characters and give them strength. they wish you could pay more attention to them, but they know that teyvat is your prize creation, the people within it your most beloved. while you had encouraged them and their sibling to traverse your other worlds, it made sense that you’d want to empower these people first. your choices were.. odd, but you seemed happy, mostly, so they were too. ultimately, they are just another of your creations, and they want you to be happy just as the others do.

what happens when the game closes?

this connects to both the party system and the ‘realm of stars’ i mentioned in the traveller’s section. now, the personal belief i subscribe to is that it’s… another pocket dimension sorry—

akcnkwdjdkd ok so you know in the character menu how the background is all hazy and star-like and tinted the color of their element? i think the hydro’s have bubbles floating around but i have just spent too much time in enkanomiya-

anyway, that’s a ✨separate dimension✨. i imagine its like a line, where your characters are arranged like the bar on the side (top if you’re a pc gamer). characters can look over if they wish, though that’s dependent on some other factors (i know this is already long but i’ll elaborate on this later). the poses for weapons, artifacts, etc. are all forced on them, like strings on a puppet—war flashbacks for my scaramouche. they’re tugged into place, and stay like that. your mains are used to you fussing about with their artifacts, and have learned to simply rest into the feeling. why shouldn’t they, after all?

ANYWAY this is getting long. so when you’re in the field, your characters fall away save your party members, who move to the odd starry landscape of the party menu. there’s a large screen, which allows them to see like it’s your screen, almost. there’s a health bar, they can see the energy, and though that’s about it the important bit is that they can still see the character on field and the battle around them. this way they know what to expect, and where to aim, where to brace for an impact because sorry, they have the most hp and you need to tank this hit. when the game closes, you swap team members, etc. they are transported back to where they were prior to being on your team. now, for those you don’t utilize as often, they aren’t fully pulled into the character menu, as this would cause complications, but they are vaguely aware of when you open it. this way they can prepare in the rare case you switch to them for whatever reason.

additionally, when you shut down genshin, the traveller takes your characters’ place. they hold your place, often using the time to catch up with paimon and eat, both talking about their separate perspectives on your battle. paimon from the outside, watching the vessels switch in a shower of gold sparks, and the traveller from the inside, watching them lean on each other when their health was low and swap encouraging phrases during a tough fight. the traveller can’t really move all that much, but they don’t have to stay very still—what’s the chance you’ll notice they’re facing the wrong direction anyway?—which is good since they may have to defend themself against any enemies wandering in. if they’re off your team and unbuilt, it’s a little difficult, but between their status as an outlander and paimon’s influence, it’s not that big of a hassle.

(sorry this one’s real long but this is the concept i spent the most time developing. i have a very very long albedo fic where this mechanic is center stage so i have a lot of junk stored in my mind abt it)

what about friendship levels?

friendship levels!!! in-game they’re a metric of how long/much a character is with you, and it’s the same in sagau. the higher a character’s friendship, the more of your aura they emit by proxy, since they’re… in the absolute kindest way possible, you know how shoes have to be broken in -? yeah—

the harsh tugs of your device commanding them to move softens into a gentle guide, but they’re so in-tune with your playstyle that they go ahead of the strings, attacking slightly quicker. a high-friendship team has synergy like no other, the characters swapping just before you actually press the button to do so, their elemental reactions booming brighter, skills and bursts doing that much more damage just because they know what their doing by heart. they’re certain they could replicate it even without you, though they’d never dare, and your main sometimes finds themself repeating your usual rotation in their head to help them. swap, skill, swap, skill, burst, they mutter, their fingers tapping along where the buttons would be as they try to puzzle something out. swap, skill, swap, passive, swap, the familiar routine providing comfort.

how does the concept of being “self-aware” work?

lovely question.

…

it doesn’t.

jsksskdjd i feel like a software developer— ANYWAY-

google defines self-aware as “having conscious knowledge of one's own character and feelings”, which isn’t (inherently) the case. in relation to video games, it’s usually something along the lines of “this game is aware it’s a game” which doesn’t work since, as we’ve established, teyvat isn’t a game.

in this case, being self-aware means recognizing that you are operating through a device. it means knowing that you are not controlling them directly, that you instead use a proxy. it means, for characters like albedo, recognizing the sticky binds of code that limit his movements, it means registering that you are still far, far away, and that you only feel this close because of your device. it means, for some such as, say, diluc, there wasn’t a reason why kaeya was a vessel before him. it means knowing that their god is still lost, and knowing that they have to ensure you come back safely.

and that’s about it! discarding some icky topics such as the semantics of an isekai (which boils down to tapping into the divinity stored in your device so it doesn’t really matter much either way) and the abyss (which i don’t know enough about lore-wise, sorry) that’s everything i keep in mind when i write my genshin impact self-aware works!

if you have any further questions, feel free to either reply or send in an ask, or check out my masterlist if you want to see these concepts in practice.

have a good one!

[somekidnamedkai]

February 6th - Making Homemade Chocolates, Again

Authors Note: I didn’t get a request for this day, so I decided on my sweey bby Azul :)

Characters: Azul Ashengrotto

Warnings: None

You were a genius, you thought to yourself as you got the ingredients for your chocolate out. “He should be here any-“ You were interrupted by a frantic knock on the door. “Now,” you told yourself as you ran to the door and opened it, seeing your out-of-breath boyfriend. “Happy Valentine’s Day!” You told him cheerfully as you grabbed his hand and invited him inside.

“Happy Valentine’s day,” Azul replied and kissed you on your forehead, “what was the emergency? you said it was really big,” Azul asked you with worry, it was only then you realized he had a first aid kit and bag of supplies. It made you feel a little bad, you needed to make sure he would come.

You took a deep breath, about to break the news of your ‘emergency’ that wasn’t an emergency at all. “I wanted to make chocolate with you. Because I love you so much,” you told your boyfriend almost hesitantly. You could see him going through the five stages of denial there. How dare you trick him like that? He was worried.

“So, you’re ok?” He asked nervously as you nodded in reply. Azul let out a sigh of relief and hugged you, “don’t scare me like that, Angelfish. I was scared something happened to you.”

You patted Azuls cheek, “I’m sorry, babes, I just wanted to make sure you’d come here. Although I do guess my plan could’ve been executed better, huh?” You chuckled. You pointed over to the kitchen, “I wanted to spend some time with you and make chocolate because Trey just gave me this new recipe and everything,” you continued, explaining everything to Azul as he nodded while listening.

When you were finished Azul smiled and kissed your cheek, “You could have just told me, Angelfish. I’d still be over in a heartbeat. Now let’s go,” he told you as he grabbed your hand and guided you over to the kitchen where the ingredients were laid out.

You followed Azul as he led you to the kitchen, and grabbed the recipe, “so, I have some things sorted out already, but I need to measure most of the ingredients,” you told Azul as he looked at you while talking, a smile on his face.

“Okay, what are the measurements?” Azul asked as he looked at the recipe before nodding, memorizing the values, and beginning to help you. The two of you fell into a pattern where you were getting everything done, quickly. “Now that the coconut oil has melted we pour-?”

Before he could finish his question you answered it, “pour in the sugar and mix them, yup,” you answered as Azul nodded. Slowly pour in the sugar and mix the two. While Azul mixed the other ingredients, you got the cocoa and milk powders and mixed them. “Now we pour these in and fold them into the batter,” you explained as you poured the powders in with the mixture on the stove. Azul snuck in a small kiss to your forehead as you poured in the ingredients, “hey!” you shouted and laughed.

“Hey, what? I was only kissing my beautiful wonderful partner,” Azul said casually and kissed you again, this time on the lips.

You kissed Azul back quickly before grabbing the pot, after putting mitts on of course, and took it off the stove. “Heart-shaped molds?” Azul teased.

“It’s Valentine’s Day! If you have a problem with it, take it up with my manager. Oh wait, I am the manager. Get over it,” you teased Azul back as you poured the chocolate into the molds, “if you don’t like it you don’t have to help.”

Azul gasped as if you said you were taking away something he loved, “absolutely not, let me pour some,” he snapped back as he grabbed the bowl and poured some more chocolate into the molds.

When you two finished pouring the chocolate, you tapped the molds so air bubbles could be released and then placed the chocolate in the fridge to harden. “Now to wait.”

A smirk appeared on Azuls face when you said to wait, “I can think of something we can do,” he told you, his smirk only growing, as you looked back intrigued.

“You’re a jerk.” You told Azul as you scrubbed the dirty dishes. Your boyfriend was on the other side of the sink, drying the dishes. He tricked you into cleaning. Sometimes you hate how mature and tidy he is, sometimes.

“You love me,” Azul teased as he blew you a kiss.

A few more minutes of dish cleaning went by and your timer went off, signaling the chocolate was ready to be eaten. “I’ll grab the chocolate,” you said, already walking to the fridge.

As soon as you took the chocolate molds out, Azul grabbed one and popped it into his mouth. “Mmm, this is so good,” he said. “I need to add this as a dessert in the mostro lounge. What’s the recipe?”

“Really, Azul? Just enjoy the chocolate. Think business later.” You told your boyfriend, who was now stuffing his face with chocolate.

“Ok, I love you,” Azul told you as he finished eating some of the chocolate you two made. He walked over and gave you a big hug and kiss, “Happy Valentines Day, Angelfish.”

[deathsbestgirl]

I’ve read a few fics where someone either in the fbi or local/state law enforcement tries to recruit scully to their team. I like the idea (though I’d never want her to actually leave, ofc), and I think it’s realistic that it would happen - if you agree, how seriously do you think she entertains such offers, at various points in the show?

oh i love this question!! i think there are three times scully considered to his. the first time being squeeze, and colton helped make sure scully would dedicate herself to the victims & mulder. and mulder is really the one who solidified it because he's so considerate. he cares about people so much and what he does really is what she wants to do. she wants to make a difference.

the second time would be around never again, right before her cancer. like i think about paper hearts, and even el mundo gira. she couldn't really help mulder, she let skinner down. they didn't find the immigrants spreading the ... mold? they were "invisible." and obviously never again, where she was contemplating her work & her life & her choices. right after na, she needs the x files. and she needs mulder, he gives her strength and she would have had a much harder time without him. and even though he wasn't ready to say what she means to him, he needs her too and i do think she's aware how he values her. he's a very show over tell kind of person, and they both have a habit of talking around important things lol

the third time...would be the end of s5, the end & ftf era where she was really doubting herself and her importance to the x files & mulder. and more than that, how she's a deterrent to him. i think she became very aware in gethsemane & reduxes how they use her against him (and all the other times she was victimized). her abduction, her cancer. and then emily happened. the red and the black? she was believing and he wasn't. she willingly did a regression which she ran from when melissa asked her to do it...regarding her abduction. scully almost died again. and while that may not have been as targeted against her & mulder, it's all connected. diana just exacerbated the problem and made her question their partnership more. but he said what she needed to hear and she was roped back in.

more than anything, i don't think scully could abandon him and leave him alone. and the x files really are hers too, whether her name is on the door or not. she has just as much blood in this as mulder does. she wants answers too. scully will always be reeled back in. we see a hint of it in iwtb and plenty in the revival. mulder & william are who she fights for. and as mulder fights for everyone else, she'll be there with him every step of the way.

[copperbadge]

Oh you guys it’s bad. It’s real bad. Bad, bad. 

I bought the two-pack of Figgy Pudding Spam, the only way I could get it, presumably because nobody who buys it once will buy it again. I figured I’d make musubi, because I’ve had spam musubi and enjoyed it, and knew how to prepare it.

I sliced the Spam and pan fried it, then took half out and added teriyaki sauce to the remaining slices, laminating them in the sauce and plating them on molded sticky rice. I cleaned out the pan, added the other slices back in, and cooked them with a glaze made of cranberry-orange jam whisked with a bit of water, then plated them on reheated stuffing. Both sets took the sauce beautifully, like they look great in the photos for the most part. 

The smell of spam cooking is normally fine, but as I was pan-frying these slices I thought, Something smells floral, and then realized it was whatever spices are in this evil concoction, heating up and releasing their fragrance. 

I did try one bite without any sauce, and the problem is not that it’s spiced meat, to be honest. The problem is that there’s a single dominating flavor, and I can’t identify it, but it’s Not Good. The flavors in the press release are “cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger, allspice, and cloves as well as fig and orange flavors” and I think it might be the orange and clove -- it tasted like that feeling you get in the back of your throat when you’re in the artificial/dried flowers section of a craft store. 

I had posited that the teriyaki musubi would taste terrible because it would be too salty, but the teriyaki sauce was strong enough to almost cover that back-of-throat burn, and the rice absorbed some of it too. I actually ate most of one piece of the teriyaki version, because it was at least edible. 

The cranberry sauce, on the other hand, had an orange base that heightened the flavor of the spam (hence why I think the orange flavoring might be the Bad Taste) and made it basically inedible. I hate to waste food but I’m not the one who came up with Figgy Pudding Spam.

In any case, I think it’s probably a fun time if you want to cook it and see what your friends think of it, but as a meal it is. Not. 

[ID: Three images; top is a publicity image for Figgy Pudding Spam, featuring a fancy tin of spam set against a backdrop of Christmas lights and pine boughs. Middle image, two helpings of spam musubi made with the figgy pudding spam and a teriyaki sauce are sitting on beds of pressed rice, on a rimmed plate, looking dark brown and shiny. Bottom image, two helpings of musubi made with cranberry glaze sit on beds of pressed stove-top stuffing; they are topped with the last of the cranberry glaze and look like something you might find on your dinner plate during Thanksgiving dinner in Hell, which is also what they taste like.]

[ctitan98official]

Donna Beneviento long lost child au

I have gotten a ton of requests for a long lost child au for Donna… Here it is! Let’s get into it!

You had been having a rough time recently. You were lonely and needed something, but… You couldn’t quite figure out what that was.

That was until it came to you in a dream.

You were lying curled up on a comfy couch as someone whispered softly to you and ran their fingers through your hair. It was so relaxing. You felt completely comforted. You weren’t sure how, but you knew in your dream that this was your mother. The only problem was… You had never even met her.

You confided in a close friend, Mia Winters, about your dream and what it could mean.

At first, Mia was unsure how she could help, but… She pulled a few strings at the organization she worked for to get information. She’d do anything for you. Her search to find your birth mom actually led her to someone she already knew that had inside knowledge… Her project lead, Miranda.

Miranda informed Mia that she was from the exact same village as your mom and had even remembered when she had to give you up. Talk about coincidences…

Today, you were currently waking up with a huge hangover on Mia’s couch… You had also taken to getting blackout drunk to numb the pain of abandonment.

You sit up and rub your bleary eyes, yawning loudly.

Mia walks in and crinkles her nose at your unkempt form. “Y/N, this can’t keep going on. Ethan’s started complaining about me letting you stay over so much.” She says and sits next to you.

You feel guilty. “I’m sorry, Mia. All this shit about my birth mom is fucking with me…” You confess. “There’s no way to fix that. Drinking takes the edge off… For a bit.” You say sourly.

Mia gives you a sympathetic look and bites her lip, deciding if she should divulge the information about your mom that she has just received. The last thing she wants is for this news to send you into a tailspin. “Y/N… If you were able to figure out where to find your mom… Would it truly make you happy?” She asks.

Your eyes snap to hers. “Of course, Mia! Even if it doesn’t go well… I think I’d feel better if I knew where I came from.” You tell her.

Mia internally curses herself before biting the bullet. “Well… I’ve done some digging, with the help of The Connections.” She begins.

Your eyes widen at this. “What?” You ask incredulously.

Mia looks down but nods her head. “My supervisor, Miranda, is… From the same village as your mom. She even… Knows her quite well.” Mia says carefully.

Your eyes widen. How could this even be possible? “I don’t… How…?” You try to ask.

Mia laughs nervously. “Small world.” She murmurs. She doesn’t know if she’s done the right thing by telling you, but you surprise her and give her a big hug.

“Thank you, Mia.” You say with tears in your eyes. “This is everything that I wanted.” You slowly pull away and wipe your eyes, suddenly feeling very anxious. “Um, what do we do now?” You ask her.

Mia remembers that she has Miranda’s number. “We could give Miranda a call?” She offers, holding up her phone.

You swallow hard but quickly nod your head. It’s now or never.

The phone call with Miranda goes pleasantly enough, considering what you’re calling about. Miranda even offers to be your personal guide. She said that she had some business to attend to in the village and would be heading back soon, as a matter of fact.

You eagerly accept Miranda’s offer and the two of you make plans to meet at the airport tomorrow morning. Romania or bust.

——————————————————————————

Miranda is definitely a hugger. She throws her arms around you the second you introduce yourself. “Wow… Just as stunning as your sweet mother.” She compliments, which makes you blush.

You find yourself growing fond of this eccentric, but kind, scientist.

During the plane ride, Miranda tells you about the village and its unusual but quaint traditions. She’s apparently some kind of priestess? To a… Mold god or something? You might have tuned out some of her chatter. It was an early flight, after all…

When you two land in Bucharest, Miranda easily hails a cab and you both head deep into the mountains. Either Miranda is 100% correct about what she had told you… Or she is a serial killer. There is no in-between.

The tiny town that you’re dropped off in looks like its stuck decades in the past.

You and Miranda start to walk further in and she tells you that she will take you to her house first before going by herself to speak to your mom… She just wants to give her a heads up.

You eagerly agree, thankful to have a little bit of time to work up your nerve once again.

Miranda’s cottage is cozy and warm… It does have a metric fuck-ton of crow statues and artwork, though… What could that be about?

Soon, only a couple of minutes after Miranda leaves, you hear her voice from outside, frantically begging someone to stop.

You furrow your brows and go to look out the living room window.

You see a graceful figure, dressed all in mourning garb, purposefully marching through the ice and slush. It seems they are making their way here. Odd.

You look behind the mysterious person and almost bust out laughing. You see Miranda hurriedly waddling behind the person in black. Her shoes, while stylish, do not hold up to the bitter temperatures of Romanian winters, it seems.

Your enjoyment of this scene is cut short as you hear the front door open.

You turn to look at the veiled visitor, curious to see who they are.

A choked gasp leaves the person’s mouth as they bring their hands to cup their face.

You are petrified. Did you violate one of the village’s customs and offend them?

The person takes the facial covering off and you are met with a gorgeous and striking woman. She’s one of the prettiest people you’ve ever seen. But… She’s crying. Why is she so sad? You unconsciously go over to her to ask what’s wrong, but she surprises you by reaching out to gently hold your face.

“Il mio bambino…” She whispers as she takes in your features. You are even better than she could have imagined.

“U-umm!” You stammer nervously, and are weirdly really enjoying the warmth and softness of the woman’s hands on your face.

Just then, Miranda comes barreling in. “I can explain!” She shouts, not even sure who she’s speaking to at the moment.

The two of you kind of ignore Miranda. You are lost in each other’s gaze. There’s something special about this woman… But, what?

“Y/N…” The dark-haired woman rasps in her beautiful, low voice.

Your eyes widen at hearing your name. Have you two met??

“Y/N… I’m your mama.” She says as tears roll down her cheeks.

You feel your heart flutter and speed up. Wait… This is your mother? That’s not possible. She’s too perfect!

You look over to Miranda for confirmation and she silently nods.

You gasp. Wow… Fuck… You were feeling a lot of emotions and your head was spinning. You needed to sit down… Unfortunately, you took two steps towards the couch and ended up blacking out from the complete shock of the situation.

Later on, you would blame this on jet lag.

Note: I’ve gotta expand this into a second part! In the next installment, we’ll learn why Donna gave Y/N up. Hope you liked this one!

Masterlist

[mh073099]

“I’ll Find You” - Captain Rex x Reader Fic Part 3

TRIGGER WARNINGS - Sexual Harassment- a bit. Themes of Torture, Terrorism, Murder, our girl is a separatist spy okay she's not the good guy yet. Age Gap- 18/19 to a 24/25. Don't Worry not for long, I am a fan of age gaps.

Author Note- SOOOOOoooo It has been a really Long time since I posted anything for this and almost abandoned it but I reread it earlier and got some inspiration again, to anyone that cares reading this. Also, pay attention to the time stamps.. they will be important in the future.

Gif rights to creator

Part 3

Paris, France 05/21/2067 01:45

As we sat down in the café, I suddenly felt awkward. Here I was, sitting down with the first person in ages that really noticed me, regardless of if it was real or not. I felt naked. Laid bare under his gaze. 

“Relax, princess. I’m not going to bite.” He smiles at me. Never in my life has someone smiled at me this much. 

“Not even if I ask nicely?” I snark back, leaning forward onto the table with my hands. Rex just looks at me, smirk on his face, not taking the bate. 

“You know what’s scary?” I ask him. I’m unable to help myself.

“What?”

“Knowing that you could destroy everything I’ve ever known, and yet I think I’d let you.” What the fuck am I saying? And that thought must be showing on my face because he starts to speak again.

He regards me carefully. “Maybe that’s what you need,” comes out slow and soft.

“I don’t need saving.” I look him square in the eyes.

“I’m not taking about saving you. I’m taking about freeing you.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” I feel we are dancing around the obvious.

“Hmmm. Tell me something about yourself. Something honest, real.” He asks while sipping his hot chocolate. He looks so normal, so calm and at peace. While we sit here and dance around elephants in the room. 

“Oh, well I don’t know. Um… I speak 6 languages.” I offer up. Kinda at a loss to answer, for Am I really that much of a person? I do what I’m told. I am the makeup of ash and ember that has been molded by pain, over and over again. My whole life is a lie. A secret. Something I cannot share, for the so called greater good. Honest? Something Real? Am I even real? These thoughts aren’t ones I should be having. Conversations like this lead down a dark road.

“Wow, that is impressive.” He really does look impressed by that fact. “What Languages? Even though that’s not what I meant by my question, obviously. But I have to ask.”

“Maybe I am Deflecting.”

“You are most definitely deflecting.” Then he looks at me expectantly.

“Well, English obviously,” earns me the low chuckle that I am growing to adore. “As well as French, Spanish, Geonosian, Huttese, and Kittat.”

His head snaps up from where he was drinking his coffee. “Kittat? That’s a dead language, used by- “

“Yes, The Old Empire. My mother is a historian. Translated a few things for the republic. Taught me as she was teaching herself.” The lie falls easy and quick from my mouth. The dead language isn’t as dead as everyone thinks. It’s what the separatists use to pass information along. An Illegal language has its benefits.

Which of course he brings up. “Mhhmm. And Isn’t it an illegal language?” He cocks his head; his eyes harden the slightest bit.

"Technically yes but Historians like my mother have permits and clearances for such things. Teaching me? Now that wasn’t necessarily legal but what kind of government prohibits a whole language? Its just words.”

“Dangerous words” he counters carefully.

“As if words in any other language can’t be dangerous?” I lean back. “It was William Douglas said ‘The most important aspect of freedom of speech is freedom to learn. All education is a continuous dialogue- questions and answers that pursue every problem on the horizon.’ Without the freedom to criticize, question and challenge the dominant narrative, societies cannot make progress.” I finish with a huff.

Rex leans back, with a smile on is lips, and something bright gleaming in his eyes. “You’re very passionate about this.”

“There is only passion.”

Rex pauses, licks his lips and smiles. “Of course, you’re 100% right about freedom of speech. But progress is slow. We must learn from the past. Not repeat it.”

“And isn’t that what’s happening?”

“I don’t think so. I work for a great senator, Her efforts and even the quiet efforts of her husband have shown that they actually care for their people. And truly want to make the world a better place. The right way.”

“What’s your job title exactly?” I bait him.

“What’s yours?” 

I sigh. He had me there. “Hmm.” The right way. Is there really such a thing as right and wrong? Or did it come down to Just you and them? Two sides of the same coin? I look down at my hands, unable to look him in the eye anymore. “Still feel like you’re following me.”

“Maybe it’s not you I am following.” His response makes me freeze, and then surprisingly relax. That is a loaded response…but maybe. Just maybe.

He reaches his hand down across the table, pinky touching mine and interrupting my thoughts.

I loop my pinky with his. Looking down at our entwined fingers. His pinky finger is calloused but warm. I hope he couldn’t tell how sweaty my hand was while being hooked on my pinky.

“Where do you see yourself five years from now?” I asked, still staring at our pinkies.

His inhale makes me look up, and I can’t make the expression on his face. “You don’t ask easy questions.”

“You’re one to talk.” I fire back.

We both dissolve into giggles. I just feel giddy, and his smile in intoxicating. For the first time, I feel clean. Like I don’t have to hide. 

“In five years? A promotion, with better pay and better hours. My schedule now is nowhere near stable, but a set work schedule would be nice. And hopefully, a relationship. I’m a little young to think about starting a family, but I want that someday, and in 5 years, I hope to have that person by my side.” He answers, taking hold of my whole hand as he finishes.

“Hmm. That sounds nice.” I say absent mindedly, imaging what a family would even feel like.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Where do you see yourself in five years?” He squeezes my hand in reassurance.

Dead. For a cause that I am not even sure I believe in.

“Honestly? I don’t know. Right now, my work keeps me busy, as well as in the moment. Success is seen in immediate results. Long term is not something I am looking at yet” I try to keep it vague.

“You haven’t thought about it?” He pushes.

But pushing starts to irritate me, and I snap back with, “I’m young, what’s there to worry about? Who cares for future.” I say in a huff. A dark look overtakes my face and I pull my hand away. Hands in my lap, looking at him in all his handsome goodness. Curse life for dangling him in my face. His eyes are filled with sympathy as if he could possibly understand what it was like to not know what happens tomorrow. To have your fate completely out of your own hands.

“Princess, you asked the question.” He pauses then leans a little more forward. He looks so open. “I don’t know what you’re caught up in. But I have friends. People that could help-“

“Woah let me stop you right there. I do not need saving. I am perfectly fine thank you very much. I don’t know what you think you know, But I can tell you, You are wrong. I have a well paying job that provides for me, I get to travel, I-“ I loose track of where I was going with this. How do you try and stand up for living a life you don’t want? “Rex,” I sigh. “I’m fine. You will just come to find that I tend to be pessimistic at times.” I offer up.

He just looks at me, taking in the sight of me. I wonder what he sees?

Then he reads my mind and goes, “When I look at you, I see a strong, beautiful ruthless young woman with her whole life ahead of her. But you have this look in your eye. You’re not happy. Not even close.”

“How do you know?” I shake my head.

“I recognize that look because I used to stare at it in the mirror every day. Until I found a way to stop living like that.” He offers. Rex cocks his head at me, looking concerned and sympathetic. I hate it. I can’t understand why he cares.

“Sounds easy.”

“Hardly.”

The silence seems comforting. I don’t feel as alone as I normally do.

“I’d gladly let you ruin me if you asked.” Left my mouth unbidden.

First, I see surprise flash across his face. Determination settles in its place.

He pulls out a card, and slides it across the table. I don’t look at it, just slip it in my pocket.

Rex goes to say something, But at that moment, the door to the 24-7 café we’re in opens.

When I connect with his eyes, all I feel is dread. The anger is rolling off him in waves. The card heavy in my pocket.

Rex must notice the color drain from my face because he turns slightly and catches sight of Maul.

“I’m so sorry.” I whisper to Rex, as Maul approaches with long strides. He arrives at our little table in just a few steps.

“Let’s go.” Is not question. “I’ve been requested to make sure you arrive home safe. Your mother was worried.” His deep voice oozes with thinly veiled venom and misplaced passiveness.

“Is everything all right?” I hear, Rex’s tone firm, calm and dangerous. I look over at him, and the look he is shooting at Maul rocks me off balance. He looks positively murderous. Never could I image his face set in stone like this.

“I wasn’t talking to you.” Maul sneers, slowly moving his gaze to Rex. The heat in their stare was almost Nuclear. As if at any moment, they would collide and explode on each other, leaving devastation in their wake.

"Everything is fine John,” I quickly say making sure not to give his real name out, hand reaching out to his and I go to stand up.

His gaze shifts to me and his eyes soften. “It was nice talking to you princess. Stay Safe out there.”

I softly smile and look to Maul. His eyes burn me, promising trouble that he will enjoy, and that I certainly will not. “Well? Let’s go then.” I bark out bitterly.

We turn and leave.

It took everything in me not to look back.

 Paris, France 05/21/2067 02:15

The whole drive was silent on the way back to the manor, but the smugness was rolling off Maul in waves. I didn’t know what lied ahead of me. But I did know one thing. Rex knew I was trouble. This could go one of two ways. I could give rex up, milk him for what he knows and dispose of him. The thought twisted painfully in my chest, and it became hard to breath. Or I could toss Rex a bone. Slowly bring down the cause. I’d be betraying everything I had known. But what was a cause that killed and stole for their own gains? An Ideal that the Republic is the oppressor while simultaneously oppressing not only those they deem an enemy to the cause, but to their very supporters as well. That idea made the weight on my heart ease a bit.

Oh God, what have I gotten myself into?

When we arrived at the manor, I was hesitant. The place held a blanket of doom that did little to keep the cold out. Maul stalked forwards while I meekly followed behind. I was scared. Maul was excited.

We entered the haunted manor and made our way to the main parlor. In the room stood the Count, my Mother, and Him. The Chancellor of the separatist movement. Everything about him was absolutely Sidious. My mother’s face was blank. Just an empty shell with her face. The Count looked bored. Maul looked like a dog, drooling for a bone.

“Hello, my darling girl.” His voice was like poison. It took everything in me not to flinch. “I have a job for you.”

Here. We. Go.

  Paris, France 05/21/2067 04:00

I lied there, in my own blood and vomit. Left alone to pick myself up.

The Humiliation of this night will forever be burned into my spine. All for what?

To test my strength, He said. To assure everyone but more importantly to assure myself, that I have the will to continue this path. To kill doubt that lingers within myself and within our circle about my abilities. After all, I was just a young girl. They needed proof of my loyalty. My undying loyalty. To remind myself that Peace is a lie. To become what I pretend to be, he said. To prove I am enough for this job, that I will see it through. No matter the pain, the costs.

“Tell me, do you have anything to say for yourself? To prove yourself worthy?” In all his Sidious might, he stood over me. Brand still glowing, the smell of burning flesh overtaken my senses. I looked over at my mother. She looked at me as if I was nothing. I didn’t recognize her anymore. 

Turn back to him, Looking him in the eye. “There is no peace, only passion.”

 His smile is wicked, and he continues.

  Paris, France 05/24/2067 13:47

I lay in bed, just staring at the wall. Ace by my side. I have to keep him from trying to lick my wounds.

I need to get up. I need a plan out of this. This…this isn’t me, right?

“Peace is a lie, there is only passion.”

I sit up, pushing myself through the pain.

“Through Passion, I gain Strength.”

Standing up was hard. My legs gave out, and I had to learn heavily on the bed until I could get my feet underneath me.

“Through Strength, I gain Power.”

I slowly make my way over the mirror.

“Through Power, I gain Victory”

The Woman looking back at me is unrecognizable.

“Through Victory, My chains are broken.”

A lie. All I see are chains.

“Through Victory, My chains are broken.” I repeat.

Tears cloud my vision, and I am filled with rage.

“Through Victory, My chains are broken.”  I whisper, before I slam My fist into the full-length mirror.

My knees hit the floor, digging into glass. I relish the pain.

“I am set Free.”

I reach for the Card.

Paris, France 05/24/2067 13:59

He picks up after the first ring. “Hello?” His voice deep, and rumbles through me. I take a deep breath.

“Did you know?” I ask, voice hoarse and sore, but full of force. No room for argument. 

“Princess, is that you?” I ignore the butterflies in my stomach at the nickname.

“Rex. Did you know when we first met? Back in D.C.?” I ask again. There’s no way he didn’t know now. Not with the way our late-night conversation went.

He sighs. “No. I didn’t know back then.” 

“You Promise?”

“I promise.”

“When did you find out?” My voice breaks.

His voice is soft when he replies, “I didn’t find out until after seeing you that afternoon at the cafe. I went back to the embassy after that and... well.”

I took a deep breath. He was honest with no hesitation. I don’t know how I knew that, but I did. I believed it deep in my bones. 

“You let me walk away.” My vision starts to get blurry.

“I knew you’d make the right choice in the end. I believe in you.”

“That doesn’t make any fucking sense,” I whisper.

“Princess, are you ok? The other night you-

I choke out a laugh. “Yeah. I’m fine. Tell you’re bosses I’ll help. That’s what their expecting right?” 

I let out a sniffle. God, I’m really doing this.

“Look, Let’s talk about th-”

“No. No talking. One condition. You’re the person I talk to. No one else.”

A sigh. “I wish you would stop interrupting me.” His voice holds 1000s emotions, and I can’t place any of them. 

“Get used to it. Good-bye Rex. I’ll keep in touch.”

I hung up the phone.