#I'm alive work is just keeping me swamped

[fatuismooches]

Hello

I just saw your post with the fragile SO and honestly I loved it sooo much ❤️

Now I wanted to request kinda of a follow up. Like what if before you died you wrote them a letter, saying how much you love them and how they made your last days on earth so memorable and stuff like that. And they found it, like maybe a month or so after your death. How would they all react? (I'm specially curious of Capitano because you said you thought he would think that he killed you 😭)

I really love your writing and I plan to make more request in the future 👋

-🦎

♡𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐥𝐞/𝐖𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐃𝐢𝐞𝐝 ♡

synopsis: The Harbingers are made of steel, unflinching in any possible situation. But it seems that even such strong beings falter in the face of their lover's death, especially after they find a letter you left behind. Can be read as a part 2 to this.

includes: all harbingers (platonic pulcinella) w/ gn! reader

notes: Hop on the angst train, everyone. This is the first completely angsty thing I've written, and probably one of my favorites + longest pieces. I hope you enjoy this sadness, anon...!

Pierro:

Pierro carried on. He went about his day, filing paperwork, assigning duties to new recruits. What could he do? There was no time to mourn. The entire Fatui depended on his guidance and orders. He couldn’t just drop everything to fully devote himself to grieving you. But everyone knew - in any spare moment he had, he was thinking about you. Thinking about how he used to be able to go home to you waiting for him. Thinking about the walks he took with you that were heartwarming despite the body-chilling temperature. Thinking about when you were alive.

It was another day when one of your maids came to him with a piece of paper. Of course, she was terrified at being in the presence of the Harbinger, but she presented a folded piece of paper to him, stating that she had found it while cleaning your room. Pierro hadn’t been in there for a while. He was consciously trying his best to avoid it, choosing to pick up work instead. He nodded and the maid quickly scurried out of the room. It was most likely a final memento from you. He should honor that, he thought as he took off his mask.

Dear Pierro,

Hello there, my love. I hope your day wasn’t too tiring. I know how you’re always swamped with your Fatui business and such. You’re the head Harbinger, you know! You should definitely abuse your power to get some more days off. You didn’t hear that from me though, not like I wanna keep you to myself or anything. Totally not because I’m dying to spend some more time with you before I quite literally die. 

You know, sometimes I wish I was a Fatui soldier just so that I could admire you from afar some more. Those recruits are damn lucky, getting to see you more than I do. I don’t mean to complain though. I’m still tremendously grateful for everything you’ve done for me. I’ve had the pleasure of enjoying the best moments of my life with you. Yeah, even when I made jokes you still had that stoic look on your face but it was still hilarious. I loved when you would wrap me in your coat and tell me stories about Khaenri’ah. Even when you weren’t here, I loved when these random recruits would be scurrying to my room every so often to deliver your handwritten notes. 

Truly, there’s no life I’d rather live than this one… minus the illness part though. I am sorry to make you shoulder another death, my dear, but I love you greatly. I will always be with you.

Quietly, Pierro put the paper down and rubbed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. Ever since the fall of his nation, his heart had long gone numb. He had tried to ignore the prickling of his heart after your death, but your letter was really rubbing it on. When was the last time mere words could stir up such emotion in him? He didn’t know. But he promised you, this would not be your final resting place. Pierro knew, after fulfilling the Tsaritsa’s promise, he would see you again.

Capitano:

Capitano wasn’t very photogenic. After all, all you saw was a helmet shrouding his face in darkness along with his pitch-black armor and clothes. But you had insisted on taking a variety of pictures with him, claiming that it kept you happy. It wasn’t until later on when he stumbled across a scrapbook, with pages covered in photos of the two of you together, that he understood why. Since then, he let you do as you please. The doctors said it was good for you to keep occupied by doing things you liked. And well, it was rather cute, with all the decorations and fancy tape you added. Capitano often found himself looking at it to see what you added when you weren’t around.

But ever since your death, he hadn’t looked at it since. If he did, he didn’t think he’d be able to control the emotions boiling up inside of him. If he looked at your smiling face again, the pain and regret would be too much to bear. But as the days passed by and he continued to think about you, he couldn’t help but flip open the scrapbook, revisiting the memories he made with you so long ago. He flipped until he found a envelope in the middle, causing him to perk up. It had been sealed perfectly, even stamped with one of his seals. Now, Capitano didn’t want to invade your privacy, but what was inside called to him too much, and he very carefully unsealed it with a knife. Inside was a piece of parchment, similar to the ones he used to send you letters.

My knight,

I’m writing this after you just left for an expedition. You’ve just fed me breakfast (a/d fa//ed, but it’s f/ne b/ca/se it w/s c/te.) (The ending part of the sentence has been erased, but it’s still a bit readable.) We took an early bath together, and you helped me choose a nice outfit for today. You dutifully assisted me with my medicine and tucked me back into bed for some rest. Lastly, you’ve just tenderly kissed me with all the love in the world, my favorite part of course.

It’s too bad that I won’t be able to receive any more of your kisses soon. I think the sickness is really catching up to me, haha. (There are some doodles of the two of you randomly drawn in the middle of the paper, with lots of hearts and stars and rainbows. Maybe you stopped because you didn’t know how to continue.) To be honest, I’ve asked the doctors not to tell you, and somehow, they’ve listened to me. I just don’t want you to worry about me. Somehow, for someone as menacingly looking as you, you worry a lot more than I thought (no offense, though.)

I don’t want you to blame yourself for anything, my love. You genuinely made my life so, so much better. Even towards the end, I can only feel happiness that I was able to share some of my life with someone so incredible. You aren’t a monster. You’re the man I love dearly, the one who many people look up to all the time. You did everything and more, which really warms my heart.

I’m saying this because I know how you are and I need to knock some sense into you before you start getting any crazy ideas. Please don’t beat yourself up. If I could choose my destiny, I’d rather choose to be sick and be with you rather than being healthy. I’d choose you again and again, over and over, my dear. I love you, truly.

Carefully folding the letter, he tucked it into the envelope again and resealed it. He snugly placed it back into the scrapbook and closed it, placing it back into the drawer where he usually kept it. Capitano was used to the grief and destruction that war brought. But he wasn’t used to it when love brought these feelings upon him. His heart still hurt - terribly so - but… your letter seems to have brought him some peace. You would forever be in his heart.

Columbina:

It had been a while since your death. By now, everyone had become accustomed to hearing her songs every day. It was a constant reminder of your passing. Oftentimes,  Columbina had begun to stay in your room longer than her own. You were gone, but something about your space soothed her soul a bit from all the grief she was going through. And she also liked to go through your stuff and remember different things about you.

There was a box that contained a compilation of the many songs and poems she gifted you, along with some that you created yourself with her help. Sometimes, she liked to go through the box and think about you, but she never had the time to inspect every piece. Until now, when she noticed that there was an unfamiliar piece of paper that she didn’t recognize. Columbina picked it up and began to read.

My lovely melody,

Lately, I’ve begun to sing more. I think you’ve inspired me. I hope you don’t mind me stealing that one song you like to hum the most. The only problem is that I don’t have enough stamina to sing for that long, and I think my voice is kind of off-key. But I promise I’m working on it! I’m not going to tell you yet because I want to surprise you with something nice, as a thank you for taking care of me for so long.

Actually, there’s another problem, and it’s that… (it seems that you wrote a lot of words here and then scratched them out; perhaps you were unsure how to word it) Well, I guess I don’t really know if I’ll live long enough to perform for you. It’s been kind of tough lately. But I’m going to persevere for you. Your poems have been helping a lot. We should make a book of them one day. And um, in the case that I don’t make it, I would like you to know how happy you made me.

I always got so giddy when I heard you humming down the hallway. Nothing felt better than when you would croon to me and massage my scalp and play with my hair. You are so comforting and sweet, and just - lots of things that would be too much to write. I always feel eternally fortunate that I was able to have a lover as amazing as you. You really did change my life. I love you very much, Columbina. Please don’t forget me.

Columbina’s usual smile had turned into a downward curve. Oh, how she wished she could hear you sing. Your usual voice and laugh had already been angelic to her, she knew your songs would be beautiful too. But you were no longer here. She would have really loved to hear your song. You would have been the best duet partner. But perhaps, you could hear her songs from the other world as she laid on your coffin once again.

Dottore:

Dottore hadn’t entered your room since your death. He was far too busy with his research and experimentation with resurrection. Mourn you? No, no, you weren’t going to be dead for long, after he finds the answer. You would be back in his arms soon enough. Both of you would be fine. That was, until no matter how hard he researched, he always seemed to hit a dead end. It was frustrating. He couldn’t believe it, but he was at the point where he willingly needed a couple of minutes to rest. Dottore headed to his room, but as he placed his hand on the doorknob, something stopped him and he looked over to the room next to his, yours. He silently walked over and opened your room, having not been in it for a while. The only reason you didn’t share a room was that his was very… bland, boring, not very comfortable, and not spacious enough for the medical equipment.

It was the same as he had left it, not bothering to change anything. You liked to decorate it, and he let you. Framed photos of the two of you were on the dresser, lights hung up around the room. It seemed to make you happy. But there was something he had not noticed before - a slip of paper sticking out from under the pillow. Dottore walked over and took off his mask - something he unconsciously tended to do when it was just the two of you - and opened the folded paper.

To Zandik,

I remember when you first took interest in me, looking at me up and down with your mask on, a wide smirk on your face. I knew my parents said they hired someone intelligent to cure me, but I sure didn’t expect it to be the second Harbinger. I think you already know this, but when I saw you, I was kinda scared for my life. And I was for a while, especially when you made me drink the most hellish concoctions and injected strange things into me. But long story short, I still fell in love with you somehow. Even though you were probably trying so hard just because you wanted to solve the mystery of my illness, I couldn’t help but think you were quite handsome when you focused on something so intensely. Your pointy teeth were the cutest. (The previous sentence has been erased but Dottore could still make it out. You were an idiot, he thinks.)

I don’t mean to insult your intelligence or skill… but I don’t think I’m going to make it, Dottore. I know you’ve been trying really, really hard (I was there the whole time, after all) to help cure me, but I think you know better than me about my condition. So yeah. I guess this is my goodbye… my parting letter.

I know you don’t care about anyone or anything really, but I hope you accept it when I say I genuinely enjoyed our time together. Yea, you were hella terrifying and a lot of scary stories drifted about you, but there was a lot of maniacal laughter and you rambling on about things I had no clue about, but I would always happily listen to you, Zandik. I would write more, but I don’t think you’re one for sappy words and stuff like that. So I’ll leave end it here. I love you very much.

His mouth was a straight thin line at the end of your letter. Dottore put his mask back on and tucked your letter into his coat. For once, he couldn’t blame someone for insulting his intelligence. He did fail, after all. But Dottore was no stranger to failure. Experimentation was a series of trials and errors, failures and successes. He swore to himself that you would not be a failure. Perhaps his journey to Sumeru, the land of wisdom, would grant him some more insight for your resurrection.

Pulcinella:

It was just after your funeral. Surprisingly, all the Harbingers had gathered too. It seemed like they had grown somewhat fond of you after Pulcinella introduced you to them, at least enough to attend your funeral. Pulcinella was grateful. He had spoken a few words in memory of you. He couldn’t keep everyone for long. They had other matters to attend to. But in his heart, he had a lot of dear words for you. 

Pulcinella sat down at his desk, deciding to do some paperwork to distract his mind. He pulled out the drawer to retrieve some items but he noticed a piece of paper stuffed to the back of it. He certainly had not put that there. He reached for it and opened it to read the contents.

Hey Papanella,

Do you like that nickname I came up with? I haven’t said it to you yet because I’m not sure how you’ll react. But I think it’s pretty cute. I haven’t said this out loud yet either but… um, I guess you’re like my dad to me. My own parents never cared much for me after my illness proved to be too much work, but you always treated me so kindly. So yeah. Thanks for being a father figure to me. Archons, this is kind of embarrassing.

I’m admitting this because I don’t know how much longer I have. I know you’re always encouraging me to keep living on, and I really do appreciate it. I’m sincerely trying my best, but I think my sickness has been getting worse. Ah, and thanks for introducing me to the Harbingers. They’re pretty scary but they’re kind of cool when you get to know them. Some of them are cute too. Please don’t tell them I said that. But really, for the longest time, I thought my life would amount to nothing, and that no one would remember me. But you proved me wrong. I truly enjoyed spending the last of my days doing old people stuff with you (just kidding of course!)

I’m going to ask you to tell me lots of more stories when I see you again. They really make my day. I like the ones about you in your youth the best. They’re the funniest. Anyway, I love you, gramps. Don’t miss me too much.

Pulcinella was old. He had seen things be built and broken down, people come and go. But he always hated it the most when he had to see youngsters go before he did. Especially innocent ones who had done nothing wrong. He just prayed, that whichever world you were in now, treated you better than this one did.

Scaramouche:

Ever since your death, the soldiers had been on the receiving end of Scaramouche’s insults even more. No longer were you here to hastily save them from his berating, much to their dismay.  They actually appreciated you for stopping Scaramouche from giving them another verbal (and sometimes even physical) beating. But now if he wasn’t yelling at someone, he was deathly silent, which was why even scarier than his words. Everyone knew they were forbidden from speaking about you in his presence.

When Scaramouche had to visit Inazuma for whatever reason, he always found himself walking towards your house. Once he had came across the Tenryou Commission moving your items out of your house, due to no one living there anymore and the want for someone else to buy it. Needless to say, he swiftly dealt with them and sent them on their way with rage. They had tried a few more times and he did not hold back, until later they stopped coming, apparently after the head shrine maiden gave an order on the behalf of the Shogun to leave the residence alone. Hmph.

He doesn’t know why he keeps coming here, the only thing that’s different is the new collection of dust on the dresser. But the want to see you again keeps calling him, only to leave Scaramouche sorely disappointed. He thinks he knows every nook and cranny of your house, that is until he walks on a floorboard that caves in and nearly makes him fall. He’s about to lose his temper until he sees a piece of paper hidden under the floor. The words die in his throat as he picks it up to inspect.

To my beloved Kunikuzushi,

As I write this, you’re probably yelling at some unfortunate Fatui soul and they’re all trembling in their boots. Haha, I wish I was there to see that. You should be nicer, you know. But it is kinda funny to see you mad. I hope you come back soon… it’s getting too quiet around here without your quips and remarks.

But I know as you read this, I’m no longer alive. Kuni, I… (There are wrinkled spots around this area, presumably from your tears.)

I love you, and I don’t want rage and hatred to consume you again. I’m sorry to make your heart bear such pain again. It may be fruitless to say this, but please don’t blame yourself… it was out of our control. Please know I enjoyed every moment with you, whether you were cursing at some guy who bumped into me, even when you teased me relentlessly, or silently crying in my arms about your fate. But my favorite part was your soft smiles which grew more frequent. You are loved very much by me too. I want to see you smile more, many more times before I- (The rest of the sentence was scribbled over with a pen, making it unreadable.)

I wish I didn’t have to depart so soon… I wish I was born someone else, someone more strong and healthier… if I was, would our story be different, Kuni? Perhaps we’ll meet again one day… hopefully, sooner rather than later, and maybe I won’t be the same as I am now, but…

Will you wait for me, Kunikuzushi?

Scaramouche hated when he cried. He felt weak, stupid, and disgusting, especially when you were there. And somehow, he couldn’t help but feel worse than that when he finished reading your letter. He was never favored by the Gods, having been betrayed by one already. It seemed as though he was always fated to be betrayed by people he cared about. But he knew deep down that you didn’t betray him, he did instead by not being able to protect and save you. In an effort to bury his despair, anger, and grief, he would wipe himself clean of foolish human emotions, ready to ascend to godhood with his creator’s Gnosis…

Arlecchino:

Arlecchino’s days had been exactly the same ever since your death. They were the same as before she had met you too. Bland. Boring. Dull. It was after your passing that she truly realized how much your presence had added some thrill and color into her life. Now they were empty. But she was used to that. She had felt that way for a long time.

Arlecchino didn’t do much in her room besides sleep. Her room wasn’t anything special, just the standard and rich master bedroom. That was, until you took it upon yourself to decorate it. She hadn’t bothered to change it despite the style being very much different from hers. Today she had come in briefly to retrieve some documents under her bed. But, there was a random piece of paper there, collected dust on top of it, most likely from being placed there a long time ago. Arlecchino opened the folded paper and was greeted with your handwriting.

To my sunshine,

I bet you’re wondering why the hell I chose “sunshine” of all names. Even I can admit that you are nothing like sunshine. But I wanted to spice things up a bit, and to be honest, you bring a lot of sunshine into my heart and dreary little life, despite your stone-cold face. So yeah! I don’t think I can call you that to your face though. It’d be too scary.

I didn’t tell you, but I’ve had some people ask me why I chose to stay with you despite my health being what it is. My answer is always very easy - I love you, Arlecchino. Plain and simple. They don’t know how you are with me (which I’m kinda glad for… I want to keep this side of you to myself; yes, I know I’m greedy.) The way your lips quirk up for a split second then always turn downwards because you don’t want anyone to see. The way your eyes soften for a bit when I tell a corny joke. Or when I do anything actually. Your facial expressions are pretty cute.

Ahem, moving on from that, I guess you can say that I’m not too scared to say these things because I might be leaving you soon. Not of my free will, of course. Rather, it seems like the time my illness is allowing me to live is limited. Hopefully, you don’t notice anything off about me. I don’t think I could explain all of this in person… 

But I am really thankful to you for sticking by my side for so long. Even though you don’t tell me, I know sometimes you lament about your lack of ability to be verbally and affectionately comforting. But I hope you know that I don’t really care about that. You are more than enough for me. You’ve done a lot more than you think. I’m forever appreciative, my dear.

Arlecchino was left speechless, the usual bite in her throat died down. As someone who had few kind words to say to others, having such sweetness directed at her was not something she was used to. But of course, a part of her wasn’t surprised, because the only person who’d utter such things was you. It pained her, and even the children who cried after your death, greatly. But whenever she needed a reminder of you, she would uncharacteristically gently trace her fingertips over the words of your letter.

La Signora:

Everyone knew to stay out of La Signora’s way after your death. She was cruel before, but your passing seemed to reignite all the flames of anguish and hatred she harbored deep inside her broken heart. Once again, her walls had been put up to be unbreakable.

Rosalyne had gifted you a lot of makeup and accessories. She liked to experiment on you and liked it when you tried it yourself too. You had kept everything in a nice big box so nothing would get lost. One day she felt drawn to it again. She knew she was missing you dearly again, and although opening it would just cause her heartache, she couldn’t help but pry it open to see how you kept it. But on top was a hastily folded letter, stained a bit by the surrounding makeup, tucked into a small compartment. She flipped it open and began to scan the contents.

My dearest Rosalyne,

Hello there, pretty lady. You know, that’s the first thing I thought when I saw you. Tall pretty lady. Did you know that? Now you do. Anyway, I was wondering - how many of your flame moths can you create at a time?? Can you make them form a heart or something? 

Haha, I’m sorry for beating around the bush. The truth is I don’t know how much longer I have left. No matter how much warmth your moths provide me, for some reason, I always feel the chill of death creeping up my spine…

I don’t mean to be your second heartbreak. I’m really sorry… you deserve so much better than that. But for what it’s worth, you made my life a lot better than it was before. I hadn’t had much confidence in myself because of my illness for a long time. But you, Rosalyne… you made me feel like an actual person, as strange as that sounds. I feel like, when I’m with you, you make me feel so loved and special. I’m far from it but I actually feel like royalty. And royalty is really a life worth living. I don’t even know how you did it, but thank you. My life is so, so much happier thanks to you.

Hopefully, I make it a lot longer after I’m writing this letter. Maybe the Gods could finally take pity on me and give me some kind of blessing so I can stay with you longer. But if anything happens, I really, truly love you, Rosalyne. (The end of the letter has an origami moth colored in and taped to it.)

Signora’s hand trembled as she finished your letter. Her heart had returned to being ice, but it felt like her whole body was being swallowed up in red-hot grief and anger. Signora would dedicate herself solely to the Tsaritsa’s noble dream. It was the only thing she could do now, with nothing else to do and no one left for her freezing heart to love. No one could ever hope to understand the grief and pain she’s been through. Perhaps, that was why when she stood in front of the Raiden Shogun’s sword, she did not feel much regret.

Pantalone:

Whenever Pantalone went out, he often found himself looking through the windows of many stores to view their products. It was almost an instinct to pull out a large sum of Mora to buy anything he thought you’d like. And he still did this, only that he stopped halfway every time when he remembered that you were no longer with him. And his heart felt painfully heavy once again, like how heavy his smile felt with the pressure to keep it up.

The silence of his office had become a norm once again, your joyful presence no longer around to brighten it up. Pantalone opted to drown himself in paperwork to ignore it. Actually, he never realized how much the tick of the grandfather clock bothered him until now. Usually, your voice was loud enough to hide it. He sighed and reached for the bottom drawer to get some new pens to sign the documents. But his eyes widened as he saw a paper clearly laid out there, addressed to him at the top. His heart beat quickened as he carefully picked it up and realized it was from you. It seemed like you had experimented with some fancy calligraphy pens he had gotten you a while ago. And you had also stolen every stamp you had from him and stamped all over the paper.

Darling,

Hello, my love. Sorry for all the random stamps. I wanted to see what they looked like. Why does the Fatui need so many different-shaped stamps? You should make one of us, actually. And do you see I’ve been practicing my cursive script? (Indeed, on the back on the paper, your name has been signed in different styles.) I’ve been trying to do my signature all fancy like you. Hopefully, I’m improving.

I am thinking to make you read me a bedtime story tonight. I found a new one that seemed pretty cute. It’s a commoner falling in love with a nobleman… a tale of forbidden romance. It seems to go fine, until the commoner s/cc/mbs to (It seems that you scratched off the rest of the sentence.) Actually, I won’t spoil the ending for you. But by the time you read this letter, we may have finished it already. I’m just going to abuse that pretty voice of yours as much as I can (kidding of course… but no joke. Have you tried some kind of service where you just read things to people? I think you’d make a lot of money from that. I sure would give all my life savings to you.)

I guess since I’m writing this, I should say another thing I’m thinking about. I’m not sure how much longer I can hang on. I’m trying my best because I don’t want to let you down. I know you’ve been trying your best, with all these fancy doctors and equipment, but um… yeah. But I should also say that I’m not regretful having spent my time with you. You made the last days of my life so relaxing, so stress-free, so… nice. I’m glad I don’t need to worry about anything with you. Let’s move on from this, actually.

I’m thinking of a lot of things, actually. I wonder what you made the chef prepare for us tonight. Mhm… I’m getting hungry. Will you feed me dessert again too? Hah, I’m going to miss thinking about such mundane things. Hmm, I think I can hear your voice down the hall, so I’ll wrap this up. I love you.

Pantalone gazed at your words forlornly, his mouth formed into a downwards line. He had never thought the loss of something besides Mora could squeeze his heart so painfully, but here you were, making his eyes sting once again. Blinking back any tears, he made sure to store your letter in a safe place. He made a note to visit your grave today. He’d bring your favorite snack too, and read you a story perhaps.

Sandrone:

It was almost ironic - the puppet master had become a puppet herself. She didn’t speak much to others anymore, choosing to lock herself up in her lab. A part of her debated making some kind of robot or doll replica of you. But it would never be the same. She wouldn’t feel your warmth, or your natural, free laugh. Nothing would be similar.

Sandrone had begun inspections on all of her created robots. It was a grueling process she had gotten used to, but she missed the chirping of your voice as she did so. She worked in silence, opening the compartment of one of them when she was caught off guard by a formerly white paper, caked in dust, inside. The only person who had access to her Automatons was you. So could it possibly be…?

My forever,

I’m actually writing this in the same room as you. You're too preoccupied with your robot building and engineering and all that stuff, so you don’t notice me rushing to write all of this. I’ll make this quick. Actually, it’s hard to concentrate when you look so pretty and intelligent. Ahh, I’m so lucky to have you with me.

I think you’re repairing one of your robots so it can lift us up and take us on a walk. I’m excited. Those are always so much fun. I know you aren’t a sappy person. But I want to make my feelings clear, since I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to watch you unscrew some bolts and hammer down the nails. I don’t need to say it outright, do I? We both know I’ve been getting worse. Neither of us wants to say it out loud, but it’s reality.

Before I go, let me make it clear, since I know you like being blunt. You are my everything. Seeing your cute little robots send me these cute little messages really made my day. I think you told me a long time ago that you didn’t care much about human emotions. I think that’s changed now. I love waking up to see that calm and content expression on your face and watching it become a bit more softer when you see me. You’re more human than you think, you know. Some people think that being cooped up in a lab with a Harbinger is not an ideal way to live. But I beg to differ. I would choose no other way to live as long as I’m with you, Sandrone.

I think you’re finished with your tinkering. I’m going to have one of the robots hide this paper in them. I think some of them like me better than you >:) I wonder how long it’ll be until you find it. Hopefully, you don’t find it too quickly because it’ll be awkward to explain this to you. Either way… I love you dearly, Sandrone.

Sandrone gently brushed off the dust on your letter. She wished she found it sooner. She didn’t know whether it was good or bad her heart was finally feeling some emotion again, but she was grateful to have some final parting words from you. Sandrone had a bubble of inspiration float up in her. She had a good idea of what she was going to build next.

Childe:

Childe had found it after he was cleaning out your apartment in Liyue. He wanted to bring all of your stuff to his home in Snezhnaya. No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t throw any of your items away, even the random useless trinkets. Childe’s chest felt hollow as he opened the door to your residence. He expected to see your face brighten and eagerly pull yourself out of bed to hug him. He’d easily lift you off the floor and spin you around, drinking in your gleeful giggles as he pressed his lips to yours. But now it was just the creak of the floorboards as he walked in.

Childe had a memory connected to every piece of clothing that you had. That one he gifted to you for your birthday. Another he remembered twirling you around in on a picnic. One of his sweaters that he doesn't remember you stealing from him, mingled with your scent and his. Archons, his chest hurt so badly, but there was nothing he could do as he neatly placed your items in boxes, emptiness consuming him. He was finishing up the packing when a piece of paper folded in half fell out of one of your pants’ pockets. Childe picked it up and his eyes widened when he recognized your handwriting and his real name. Sitting down on your bed, he began to read.

To my one and only Ajax,

My greatest wish is that you’ll never find and read this letter because it means that we’re living our best lives. We’re happy, content, still deeply in love with each other… living in bliss. 

But if you’re reading this, then we probably didn’t go and do all of the cool and exciting things you wanted us to. I didn’t move to Sneznhnaya and I didn’t meet the rest of your family. We didn’t go travel to all the nations like you wanted to…

Heh, that’s too bad. I was really looking forward to seeing the same sights you saw on your travels. The pretty bloom of Inazuma’s sakura trees, the beautiful snow-covered streets of Snezhnaya. Remember that time you asked me if I wanted to conquer the world with you? Of course, since I can’t ever say no to you, I accepted your proposition. But in my head, I couldn’t help but think that you should probably choose someone who can match your ability and someone who is act/a/ly g/i/g to b/ ali/e. (The previous words have been haphazardly erased, making it hard to make out.)

You know I… (The ink here has bled through the paper, most likely due to you stopping there for a good while.) I don’t even know what to say, I’m just sorry. I don’t wanna leave you, I wanna be by your side forever, wanna be attacked by your cuddles every day. But the only thing I can do now is to make sure you understand that I’m truly grateful for you. No one else has ever cared about me as much as you did. You never stopped believing in me and always smiled when I needed you. You made my feeble life worth living.

Please don’t be sad. Teucer and the rest of your siblings need you. I love you so very much…

He didn’t realize how hard he was digging his fingernails into his skin until he started bleeding through the paper. Childe had been through endless battles, and fought countless enemies, but no wound had ever burned as badly as his heart did right now. Even in the Abyss, he did not feel as bottomless of despair as he felt right now. He wanted to hold you again too, Childe thought. He wanted to kiss you all over and show you how much he loved you. But you were gone, and the letter just solidified it more. He laid down on your bed, hand covering his forehead as he stared blankly at your ceiling. Biting down on his lip hard, he tried to prevent tears from flowing again. He would just go back to being the Tsarista’s weapon again, drowning himself in battle and blood just to feel something after your death.

[alizalayne]

Whats the ventilation and heat like in the suit head? I can't tell if it would be warmer or more cool to wear in compaison to a faux fur fursuit head. The only thing I worry abt is how durable needlefelting is and if it can be cleaned like a traditional fursuit head. That being said I really hope you continue making these, they're cool as hell 👍🔥👍

Okay first of all I'm super jazzed to be able to talk about this with people, and I kind of went overboard answering this, but thanks for asking! Putting this up in case anyone else is curious.

The main answers to your questions are 1: wool is cooler than acrylic fur and less stinky

2: A fursuit head is a swamp and i am snorkling in it.

I mentioned this in my behind the scenes post and there are pictures there but I literally just made a snorkel out of a snorkel mouthpiece and two collapsible automotive funnels, the kind that you can bend into a shape so that you can get goo into a weird part of your car.

that snorkel piece goes straight out of a vent hole in the inside of the ear and I felted a pink skin flap in front of it and then felted white fiber into that so it just looked like a tuft. it worked perfectly, it's just that I couldn't talk in it that well. But I'm definitely going to keep using it if I can't think of a better mouthpiece for it because as SOON as I breathed inside the head instead of through the snorkel I was like oh my god everyone is living in hell.

You can see it in this picture a little bit. nobody noticed it at all!

My friend had made a much more traditional head with a bigass electric fan in it and he was having more heat issues than I was, because I cannot stress enough that acrylic fur is like, one of the most horrifically hot fabrics you can wear. I don't know how everybody is even alive!! and there's a layer of ACRYLIC BACKING on it! Also check out how "short-pile" my fur is, most of the head is only an inch thick, it's a half-inch bucket head made out of foam covered in maybe 1/3 of an inch of wool? the less space you have between the fibers the less heat gets trapped. I was shocked by how comfortable I was, and I was having migraine symptoms that day and was extra sensitive to heat. The con where we were had the air turned down and it was chilly outside, but I was shocked when I took the head off and shook my hair out and I wasn't even sweating. I had long hair in a wig cap under that thing and I wasn't sweating. It was crazy.

As for cleaning the wool, I cannot find anyone else who has done this who has cleaning tips for me, but the foam is what I'm worried about. After a few hours of wear there's nothing wrong with the wool at all, but i can TELL the foam is ever so slightly nasty, because the foam is polyurethane and wool is what you make hiking socks out of. I have some wool cleaner coming in the mail that's made for delicate needlefelted items like scarves and deposits lanolin, which is what keeps wool "alive" kind of like how you have to care for leather. It's definitely an experiment! Nothing ventured nothing gained!

I don't have an idea in mind for a second head right now and the next thing I want to make is a cowl so I can wear lower-cut tops with this head, but I might try something else if I think of an idea! I'm probably never gonna sell these because I'm weird about selling sculptures for whatever reason. They're like my living beasts.

But I definitely hope this encourages other people who might be interested in bringing needlefelt or other fiber art sensibilities to this space, that would be a massive complement and a high honor to give people a new way to enjoy a hobby that I know means a ton to a lot of people.

[honeydippedwaffles]

Smallest Drop - Part 3

Summary: Tav knew she was falling for him in some ways but she didn't realise just how bad it had become until she got shot in the leg while killing a vampire hunter for him.

Meanwhile, Astarion really doesn't understand Tav and her strange solutions to problems and ignoring it really isn't working well.

I've already planned a part 4 because I'm addicted. Tav is not mentioned by name.

Content Warnings: She/Her Tav

Word Count: 3k words

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

Though she tried her utmost to appreciate every environment they explored (if only because she would otherwise go crazy), she couldn’t find much she liked about the swamp. Not even with its sweetened flowers, warm sunlight, and strange sheep.

She was almost a thousand percent sure those were polymorphed humans but she refused to worry about them yet. Whatever had created them surely would reveal itself and for now, she focused on the bigger problem before her.

A monster hunter standing before her with a friendly smile on his face and a laugh echoing across the swamp as though he hadn’t threated one of her companions.

He may not know what he’d done but it put her on edge regardless.

She made sure not to look at Astarion, a subliminal concern in her. She refused to give too much attention in case it drew his gaze over to those glinting red eyes or faded but very obvious scars nestled against pale skin.

Instead, she stepped forward and demanded all the attention she could with a loud voice and a smile. “Sounds awfully boring,” she said. “To hunt one creature for so long and not make any progress. Hardly even a challenge or thrill to just slowly camp somewhere and wait.”

The hunter chuckled and she seethed. “The first thing you learn in my line of work is never underestimate your opponent. This spawn has been eluding me for quite some time.”

She tried to keep her expression neutral but struggled. Even in her best moods, she couldn’t hide what she thought and the anxiety in her chest was stronger than ever. Maybe he would think the worry in her face showcased a fear of the creature rather than of him.

“Only a spawn?” she asked. “Pity. Not like it’s a real vampire. There’s little glory to be had in such a hunt.”

He frowned at the accusation in her tone and raised an eyebrow, perhaps confused by the hostility in her voice.

Before he could answer though, Astarion drawled, “I don’t know. I’m sure a vampire spawn could still rip your throat out if he felt like it.”

She couldn’t help a slight smile. Though perhaps not happy, he didn’t sound nervous which meant they fight should be easy. Lae’zel, bored as she was, never complained about further bloodshed and undoubtedly this hunter had no experience facing a gith sword.

Her own bloodthirstiness surprised her. Rarely did she feel the desire to spill blood quite as intensely as she did now and no guilt followed. This man dared to threaten somebody she cared for and she immediately moved to murder.

She really needed to be careful of the strange hold Astarion had on her.

“He is right, unfortunately. They’re only weak when compared to their masters. During the day we have the advantage but when night falls, you will not find a more dangerous quarry.”

She pretended to wince. “Awful for somebody like you to hunt something so fierce when you appear barely able to fight one of these sheep. Should I not worry about one of these spawn creeping up on you when you least expect it?”

The hunter appeared thoroughly offended and Lae’zel snorted in what she had started to learn may be a laugh.

“Well, we’ve stayed alive so far so perhaps we can focus on that.” Astarion reminded her of a cat playing with a mouse. But the cat also hovered far away from the potential battle, uncertain.

“It’ll be safer for you to keep patrols at night,” the hunter warned. “Just in case it tries anything.”

“I don’t think I will.”

He tried to be friendly and helpful but now he simply frowned. She almost felt bad for turning rude and abrasive, noticed how her response made him a little more uncomfortable but not enough to reach for a weapon. Her hand however drifted closer to her blade.

Morals said she should provide him a false lead and send him on a wild chase far away from her party.

Her brain said he may be a threat. If he doubled back or found out about her deception, he could sneak into their camp and take Astarion before she noticed.

And her heart told her if she let him go, Astarion wouldn’t relax again. He may not even stay in the area if he thought the hunter lurked nearby – too jumpy and flighty to stick around their group.

Her morals would need to keep quiet until she dealt with this.

“Maybe we should take him up on his recommendation,” Astarion suggested. “Or deal with this threat now.”

“Take him out before he hurts anybody,” she said and it was an agreement.

The hunter waved his hands quickly. “Oh, I wouldn’t recommend hunting a vampire spawn if you have no experience. You may be a strong fighter but I doubt you’d be able to challenge one.”

“I wasn’t speaking about Astarion,” she said. “If he wanted me dead, he’s had ample opportunities so far.”

Astarion hummed, almost chuckling. “You’re not wrong. It’s lucky that you’ve proven yourself far more useful alive.”

The hunter’s gaze slowly drifted between her and Astarion and her grip tightened on her blade. “That’s impossible,” he said as he reached for his crossbow. “There’s no way you’re –“

She stepped forward and slipped the blade free. Steel sunk deep into flesh and he choked out a garbled, surprised sound as his throat split open. Disgusting.

Blood sprouted from his neck and down his chest as he fell backwards, eyes wide with shock. But she had been too confident and she didn’t notice how he’d managed to get his crossbow out; how he pulled the trigger even as the last of the dark red pulsed from his throat.

The bolt stabbed directly through her thigh. It drove straight through the leather and pierced the flesh beneath even as the others drew their weapons to assist in a battle she’d already won.

She collapsed to one knee as his body thumped against the ground with a few ragged gasps. This was scarcely her first time being shot by a crossbow bolt but something must have coated the weapon. Poison or enchantment, she didn’t know but the pain and the weakness spread fast through her body and her blade fell onto the soft grass below.

“Are you alright?” Wyll arrived at her side first, concerned.

“I’m fine,” she reassured him through gritted teeth. “He’s dead right?”

“From what I could see,” Astarion said with a dramatic sigh. “Well, that’s a pity. I wanted to kill him myself.”

She ignored him and put a bit of pressure on the site of the injury. Her muscles burned fiercely as she decided to leave the bolt in for now. Rather not pull it out when she didn’t know what clung to it.

She slowly stood and blood pulsed down her leg in thick rivers. It slicked the area between her armour and left awful, sticky trails.

No visiting the strange old woman it would appear. She refused to explore a swamp when her leg felt like this.

She stepped forward and hissed in pain, just about collapsing once more if it hadn’t been for Wyll’s support on her back. Definitely something strange about this one.

“We do have spare health potions,” he said as he looked at the bolt. “But this has some magic on it. We should get back to the camp to make sure it isn’t going to deal any long-term damage.”

“I like that idea,” she admitted with a strained and uncomfortable laugh. “It’s a little sore.”

Over the past few days, she’d had many close calls with many weapons but this wooziness… she hated it. The air around her swam as she limped her way along the ridiculously long road back to their camp, reassuring her companions with soft words which held no purchase. Even they could see the way the energy drained from her body with each step.

She accepted only the occasional of assistance from Wyll and tried to make it appear as though the injury didn’t bother her.

Honestly, it had been her fault entirely. She should have noticed the crossbow and been more aware of when he pulled it free. Anger clouded her vision then and still did as they walked back.

The audacity of such a man who dared to threaten her friends… he agitated her even now when he lay on the floor, destined to be anything more than food for the various animals in the area.

Astarion didn’t return her occasional glances nor did he offer help.

She hoped he hadn’t become upset at her actions. Though he may have wanted to kill the hunter himself, she had seen an opportunity and taken it before anybody got hurt.

Well, aside from her.

The enchantment on the bold got removed swiftly but her body needed time to recover and the evening passed uncomfortably. Every muscle burned and her breaths came in soft, quick succession. She tried to keep her complaints quiet and not bother any companions. She had the antidote; she had a bandage. Now all she had to do was wait.

And wait.

The night’s hours stretched long as she lay in her tent. She prayed for sleep to find her but the ache in her bones and the burning pain refused to allow her an opportunity forward.

The footsteps distracted her from her twisting and turning. For somebody so akin to sneaking around, Astarion had stopped doing it after he’d given her a heart attack and she ended up headbutting him. He’d complained non-stop over it for at least an hour but now he didn’t sneak around anymore.

He stepped through the entrance of her tent, his hair haloed in moonlight. The night suited him as well as the day did. He looked practically ethereal as he drifted into her tent, every bit the predator she’d been warned about.

“Well, don’t you look like an absolute mess.”

She rolled her eyes and tilted her head away from him. “And it’s all because of you.”

“Me? It’s hardly my fault the man had a poisoned crossbow. You could have dodged it, you know. I’ve seen you twist your way out of worse hits than that.”

Almost always because of luck but she wouldn’t tell him as much. Instead, she offered him a small smile and tried to stop the tremble in her limbs. At least the pain felt lighter than before.

“Aren’t you meant to be cured or whatever by now?” he asked.

“Shadowheart said it’ll heal up by the morning at latest. I just have to last until then.” Exhausted of lying down, she pulled herself up into a sitting position, leaning against her travelling chest with her legs stretched out. “I’m surprised you came to visit. Are you worried?”

He put his hand to his heart and smiled. “You wound me. Of course, I’m worried. It’s not every day I find somebody dedicated enough to slice a man’s throat in my name.”

“The others would have done the same to keep you safe.”

“Nonsense. I wouldn’t trust any of them with catching a spider.”

She laughed. Though he complained, they were growing on him and she didn’t even need to prompt him to join their impromptu gatherings anymore.

“They like you.”

He ignored her comment and instead spoke of something else. “I believe my old master sent the hunter. He wants me back under his thumb, as I expected. This won’t be the only person he sends and not all will go down so easily.”

“I won’t get distracted next time then,” she laughed.

“Distracted?”

She gestured at him, knowing better than to voice the protectiveness for what it was. She didn’t understand it much either. “I’ve always told you how pretty you are. Now look what those sharp eyes have done. I couldn’t stop looking at them.”

She could play his game too. Offer him compliments and flattery instead of truth when he felt vulnerable.

“You can’t distract me with compliments,” he scoffed.

“Oh, I absolutely can.”

If she had the energy to do so, she would have continued but the wound pulsed in pain and she turned her attention to it, pressing against the soft skin to try and make it stop. The red bandage twisted her stomach into knots but it had stopped bleeding after a while.

Astarion appeared close to her unexpectedly, close enough to kiss with the smallest smirk on his face.

“You must try to stop yourself from getting hurt like this,” he said, trailing the faintest brush over her thigh. “It’s a waste of perfectly good blood. I almost couldn’t contain myself when I saw it running over your skin.”

She tried to laugh but it came out more exhausted than anything. “I’ll try but I make you no promises. My blood isn’t only yours.”

“Not yet. Perhaps the next time you give me the opportunity, I’ll drain it all so you can’t waste it.”

She tilted her head to the side to bear her throat, an exhausted but teasing smile in place. “I did say you could feed off me this morning, right? You’re welcome to take a bite now if you’re hungry.”

He appeared to not be able to tell if she joked or not. She smiled to tell him she was. Even if she had the blood to spare right now (and honestly, she didn’t), she doubted Astarion planned on feeding from her when he already felt as though he owed her some strange debt.

She’d noticed that about him. He only propositioned her when he felt as though he had to give her something in exchange.

It made her concerned.

He scoffed. “You couldn’t pay me enough. I can smell that rancid poison in your veins and it’s awful.”

She groaned and rolled her head back. “I hate this. It’s worse than that stupid apple I ate when we first entered the swamp and just as awful as when the goblin managed to sink its axe into my arm the other day. I thought I caught something from that at least.”

He chuckled. “Well, whatever magic was, it was likely intended for me so it probably won’t kill you.”

“If it’s going to kill me, I’d like it to get it over with. This pain is horrific.”

She expected him to leave soon but she took the opportunity to tap the spot beside her, asking him to sit down. What better company could she ask for? Elves didn’t sleep and despite pretending, Astarion certainly never allowed himself to meditate for very long at all.

“You’re very demanding, aren’t you?” Regardless, he took a seat and they lapsed into silence, punctuated only by her soft and somewhat shaky breaths.

She wanted to ask about the hunter. Wanted to know more about his old master and why he would be so desperate to claim a spawn back. Vampires could create as many spawn as they wanted to and he didn’t need to keep one at all times. It felt like a great deal of energy.

But as the silence stretched out, only one really bothered her enough to make her speak.

“Are you alright?”

“Obviously,” he laughed. “I’m not the one who got shot, was I?”

“No but I wouldn’t want to know a hunter is after me. I don’t want you to feel like you’re unsafe here.”

His smile turned bitter and unhappy as he answered that, his mouth twisted into a scowl. “Safe? Nowhere’s going to be safe as long as Cazador remains alive. The reach of a vampire lord goes far beyond what you may think.”

She may be a little light-headed for a proper conversation but she kept conscious, if unable to stop herself from leaning against his side. He was so cool. It felt amazing against the feverish nature of her skin and she wanted to hug him so badly.

“If he tries anything, I’ll make sure he doesn’t take you.”

He frowned at her and shifted his weight, not quite moving away from her but also not wholly embracing it. She hoped he would move away if he felt uncomfortable, as he did to a few of her other casual touches.

“You’re greatly misunderstanding the power he wields,” Astarion warned, his voice soft. “It would never be as simple as what we’ve seen so far. If he wanted to, he could stroll into this camp and whisk me away before you even noticed what had happened.”

Her solutions were a little scattered so she went for the easy one, taking his hand and lacing their fingers together before she could think about it.

“There,” she murmured. “If he tried to take you away now, I’ll notice immediately.”

Astarion’s muscles turned strangely tense and he made a small coughing sound, muttering something about how she would lose a hand then. She didn’t really hear it. Sleep crept up on her fast with the relaxing touch of his cool body and she lowered her head to his shoulder, eyes drifting closed.

When she woke in the morning, she lay alone in her tent beneath almost every blanket she owned and feeling brilliantly better. The pain faded and she felt ready to take on a hag.

Which incidentally is what they ended up doing. She spent the longest time afterwards wondering if she’d dreamed the previous night or not, distracted enough to nearly spill a bottle of unknown potion all over Gale. After a multitude of apologies, they made their way out and if Astarion’s hand brushed against the back of hers for a second, she didn’t mention it further.

Taglist: @venus-wrts @stephmundo @cassiopeia-adaar @escapistoftherealworld @scarletrosesposts @mavix

[neverchecking]

Day 1: Macro- With Fierce Deity

Kicking it off hot~ This one was so fun to write and I'm rather happy with how it turned out!

Smut so Minors Do Not Interact. If I find out a minor has interacted with my blog, I will block you.. Thank you!

Smut CW: Size difference, Fierce being a BIG BOY, there is penetration, but I tried to keep it pretty gender neutral! Let me know if I missed anything or accidently gendered it and I'll fix it!

This is Day one of My Kinktober so be sure to come back and check out the other days! Friendly Reminder that all of my smut is tagged 'Cindersins' including this, but this will also be tagged as 'Cinder's happy halloween' along with the run of the mill smut tags.

Kinktober Masterlist <<< >>> Day 2

“There you go.” His voice rumbled in his chest, low and deep, rolling in dark purrs along your back. 

If there was one thing everyone knew about the deity behind you, it was that he, simply put, was big. An absolute unit of a being. Bringer of wars and harbinger of conflict. More blood than you could fathom had stained his fingers, drowning his soul until it had flickered from the once hopeful light to a fiery inferno of rage and hatred. He had sat upon a throne of bones and skulls, torn from the very enemies he laid to rest. 

Until he had met you.

You were a direct contrast to him. Soft and naive. A being so untainted by the remains of life and the cruel corners of it, you had no choice but to shine. To push back any shadows daring to marr your own soul. To remain as untouchable as you were untouched. To remain cleansed and pure. As if plucked right from the monastery's doorstep. An unwept tear shimmering in the moonlight. 

His precious jewel designed just for him. 

You had awed over every little thing he was capable of. Every tale of gore and horror spun about his capabilities had others regarding him much in the same way he did himself. Like a monster capable of snapping at any given point. But you? You never held any animosity or ill will towards him. No, you remained as open and caring as you always had. Asking in the sweetly unimpeachable tone for him to lean down, only for you to bestow upon him a crown of chain linked daisies and other flowers. Pleading with him to reach a fruit too high for your delicate hands to even brush and thanking him with a press of your lips to his cheeks. Even when crossing bogs and swamps, while you had been hesitant at first, you now happily climbed onto his shoulder, perched there like a little bird while he effortlessly carried you across. 

If you allowed him the privilege he’d be your chariot for as long as you desired. To feel the heat of your skin, with blood coursing through your veins, was something so startlingly beautiful to him. It was a complete contrast to the flash of heat he’d get when slashing through an enemy and their own blood would slick against his cheeks and jaw. Every part of you that made you alive was something he held near and dear. Counting your breaths while you slept and nearly panicking when you missed one or it was delayed by a mere half a second, hearing the pounding of your heart while you went on about what type of butterfly you saw that day or how many deer crossed the paths behind you. Even just the patter of your footsteps beside his, three of yours for every one of his, was such a reliable beat to him. 

Even the pulsing of your walls as you clung to him, whimpering out in either pain or overwhelmed lust as you continued letting your hips fall. He had expressed his worry for you, that he would be too big for someone of your stature, but you had brushed him off, calling him ‘Silly’ for even implying such a thing. He didn’t see the connection, as it wasn’t an attempt at being humorous, but allowed you to think that way. 

You had explained that it was all about muscle work. About relaxing them and stretching them, making them used to the intrusion before it happened. It just so happened that he had the fingers necessary to do it. You had taken three, which had pumped in and out of your twitchy little hole with great difficulty at first, before they were soon sliding in and out easily. Then you had become impatient, pushing his hand out and instead moving to straddle him. His cock bounced against your ass as you gently cupped his cheek. With your free hand you moved the head of his cock to prod against you, locking his lips with your own as you moved to sit down. It was a struggle with the same muscles that were so accommodating before now clenching, refusing him entry as you tried so desperately to force them to relax. When that didn’t work, he let the first praises slip past his tongue, which was so suddenly weak willed when pitted against your fiery determination.  

To his surprise it had worked. Inch by inch disappeared into you before you were sitting on his lap, panting in heavy breaths as you leaned into him. He rubbed your back with a heavy hand. 

“Guess you were right. It did fit.” 

[likedovesinthewindd]

gwen stacy x fem/gn reader (your choice ofc) where they’re both in an argument and confess in the rain and have a kiss in the rain?

gwen and reader are in college in this, btw.

gwen stacy x fem!reader

a/n: as I was writing this the only thing I could think about was how pissed I'd be if someone made me stand in the rain, I'd actually cry if my hair or clothes got wet 😭

Ever since college, the amount of time you and Gwen spent together had decreased dramatically, the both of you becoming too swamped in work and several other extracurriculars. But you still tried to make time to hang out; hence why you had managed to keep the tradition of Saturday movie nights alive. Every second Saturday one of you would choose a movie to watch, prepare a shit ton of snacks and catch up on each other's busy lives.

You'll admit, you always managed to talk a bit more than her, always having something to vent to her about. And she didn't mind; she'd always listen attentively, chiming in with a sarcastic comment or joke every now and then, but tonight what you had to say had her speechless to say the least. No joke or quick quips at hand this time.

"A date? With Harper?"

Harper was the girl you'd been talking to for a few weeks now. Gwen's met her once, and in that one time alone she had concluded that she didn't like her. She didn't really know why; Harper was a nice girl, kind and funny and outgoing like you, but Gwen just didn't like her. It definitely had nothing to do with the huge crush she had on you. Definitely not.

"Is it really that hard to believe?" you asked with a little laugh, insecurity lacing your voice. She shook her head rapidly. "Of course not, I'm just suprised that's all," she said, trying to not sound as bummed as she felt. She didn't know why the thought of you dating someone bummed her as much as it did. Maybe because you like her, dummy.

She shook her head again, trying to let the thoughts somehow dissipate in her mind. "Why are you suprised? I told you she might like me," you said, and she hated how small your voice sounded. Gwen didn't know what to say; how on earth do you tell your best friend about the crush you've been harboring on them for years now. The uncomfortable silence streatched on until you spoke up once again. "Why's it so difficult for you to imagine someone liking me? I get it, I don't often go on dates and stuff but I'm also human, I have feelings," you said.

"That's not what I meant, of course I'm happy for you, I just don't really like her, that's all," she tried. "Why not?" you asked, and Gwen winced at the slight anger in your voice. "I dunno I just," she took a deep breath, "I dunno, okay!" She wanted to crawl into a hole when she saw how her raised voice made you flinch. You quickly gathered your belongings and laced up your shoes. "I don't think I wanna do movie night anymore," and before she knew it, you were out the door with a slam.

✴︎ ˚｡⋆

It had been a week since you had last spoken to Gwen, and now you were sitting in your room quietly applying the last bit of makeup as you stared blankly at the mirror, your mind running a mile a minute.

Gwen was your best friend, you valued her opinion over everyone else's, but she always did this. Every time you liked someone, she'd be weird about it. She never liked the people you dated—always the excuse that they weren't "good enough for you" and always discouraging you from getting together with anyone.

The pellets of rain hitting your window broke you from your daydream. Great, now you had to go fishing for your umbrella. When you eventually found it and got more rain appropriate shoes, you made your way through the busy city on your way to your date.

You didn't enjoy the idea of arriving at the restaurant while soaking wet, so you were walking as fastyou possibly could, boots making little splashes with every step.

A small thwip sound and before you knew it, you were being hoisted up to who knows where by the top of your umbrella. Your grip on the handle tightened as you closed your eyes tightly, only opening them again once you felt solidity beneath your feet.

Before you had the chance to scream at the fact that a masked vigilante had potentially kidnapped you, the mask was being pulled off and Gwen was standing infront of you.

"Gwen?! You're—"

"Please don't go on that date," she said breathlessly. Your shoulders slumped. "Gwen, don't start," you said, trying not to get angry again. "Please, Y/N, I'm begging you," she said once again. If she had to get on her knees right now she probably would. Anything for you to not be mad at her anymore, to talk to her again.

You hadn't noticed the grip on your umbrella loosening until a strong wind caused it to fly right out of your hand. Gwen had tried to catch it with a web, but it was quickly way out of her reach thanks to the strong weather. Now you stoof on top of a building, wet and irritated beyond believe as your best friend (who was a superhero? maybe?) tried to get you out of a date.

"If you don't give me one good reason why you don't want me going on this date, I am going to turn around and leave, and I will never talk to you again," you said through gritted teeth, the cold already setting into your bones. You knew that to some degree it was an empty threat. Damn, you weren't even going to be able to walk away, but you were getting tired of whatever game Gwen was playing with you.

The silence, that felt like it lasted a lifetime and a half, was all you needed and you scoffed, turning around to hopefully find a roof hatch. When you saw it, you quickly made your way to it, mood souring with every splash your boots made. Like deja vu, you were once again roped in by a web, this time catching you totally by suprise. You basically crashed right into Gwen and before you had the chance to push off her or give her a piece of your mind, her soft lips were crashing into yours.

And for a few seconds, it felt so right. So perfect that you couldn't help but wrap your arms around her neck and kiss her back with equal passion. It only took you a few more seconds before your mind caught up with your actions, and you realized that you were kissing your best friend. You unwrapped your arms from her and pulled away as soon as the realization hit you.

"I can't let you go on that date because I can't stand thinking about you with anyone else," she stammered before you got to say anything. "I don't think Harper is good enough for you, I don't think anyone is good enough for you, including me. But I just want you to be happy. I wanna make you happy. Or try at least, but if that's not what you want, I understand, and I'll let you go—"

You figured the only way to silence her racing thoughts would be to kiss her again, so that's exactly what you did, and by the time you pulled away again, the dazed look on her face made your heart thump with happiness.

"You do make me happy, Gwen," you said, sounding as breathless as she felt. "I just wished you would've told me how you felt sooner. Would've known that I feel the same," you added before she pulled you into another brief kiss, clearly overjoyed at your confession. You pulled back one last time with a smile that quickly turned into a frown when you felt the way your clothes were clinging to your body.

"Now get me out of the rain, please!"

[mazzystar24]

I've been thinkin bout that bt scene. Obviously I might be totally wrong but idk, I feel like T kinda muttered "god I hope so" into his wine glass & not directly at Buck & he was being maybe kinda insecure, like in his head maybe since we assume he's older & more experienced he might think that's why Buck is sticking around?

Like idk, it's a call back somehow to the first date and the closet comment? Like T wants this to work out because he thinks Buck is adorable but you know they aren't really clicking so ya know whatever works? (But eventually it will fully break down)

And the way Buck said "but you think I do?" about the daddy issues is like Buck goin "....wait what?" in his head because his head does tilt a bit to the side like 🤔🤔🤔 And it's showing that they don't fit.

That it was intentionally weird & off putting.

Tho I do think the bit where T says "but your father is alive" wasn't meant to be snarky. Buck then says "Exactly" which I took as Buck being all "exactly, my dad's just THAT shitty and he's not going to change."

Off course then the speech Buck gave Chris is a bit eh, but like two things can be true at the same time. XD

Also I'm def not a bt shipper, Buddie all the way but yeah that's just how it came off to me. Lol.

I hope this makes sense.

I have been swamped with exams and neglected my inbox so 💐💐💐💐💐

Eh I feel like it was definitely more flirty than insecure like I’m tempted to add the gifsets for reference but I don’t want it to show up in the gif makers’ notifications but yeah like as he’s saying it it’s 100% like suggestive vibes rather than self deprecating making a joke about an actual insecurity vibe

Like I think for me this is definitely a horses not zebras moment

I do keep think that maybe the like off putting moments are intentional because so many weird choices have been made with BT

For the your dad is alive I think I wasn’t super clear on my opinion on it but like I don’t mean he said it to be snarky per say more so that the implications behind that line are things like “you’d feel differently if he wasn’t” or “you can fix things before he does” or as if that’s something to be thankful for or recognise when talking about his pseudo father nearly dying

Like the reason I hate this line isn’t that it necessarily has to be cruel intentions on Tommys part but rather that this sorta narrative gets forced down traumatised peoples throats CONSTANTLY (sometimes with good intentions) and it’s such a bullshit rhetoric and it’s even more bullshit to use that line while talking about this found family/pseudo father he has nearly dying

Also yeah that’s definitely what that “exactly” was meant to be like yup a dead dad would at least be less traumatising, a lot easier to explain, and probably easier on my therapist than this clusterfuck but alas

BUCKS SPEECH TO CHRIS- okay lots of thoughts on this because my mom got confused and picked thought daughter:

Do I love that the writers low-key made it sound like he’s comparing Eddie to the Buckley parents? no I hate it but KR was writing for this ep so what did we expect

Do I think a marginally better way to interpret it is that it was more so continuing that theme of paralleling buck and Chris’ issues? Yes

Are the basic and I mean like the very abstract very simple and nothing further parallels there? Yeah like parent not over their grief causes conflict between parent and child

Other than that no not at all Eddie never involved Chris in this, Kim came over with her Shannon cosplay without telling him, Eddie also never intentionally emotionally harmed Chris while the Buckley parents spent bucks entire life intentionally being the absolute worst™️ and emotionally neglectful and were shit parents to Maddie too by forcing her to pretend her brother didn’t exist while she was a child and mourning said brother

But I also think it’s actually very in character for buck to continue to sympathise with them and cut them an impossible amount of slack by trying to draw parallels to this situation like it’s less trying to paint Eddie more like them and more so using Eddie (someone he cares about and loves and sympathises with deeply) as a frame of reference to mentally try to humanise and sympathise with his own parents - idk if I’m making sense but in my head it makes sense

Like it’s actually a pretty common thing you see with traumatised people they’ll sorta draw parallels that aren’t there between themselves or the people they care about and the people who traumatised them because a lot of traumatised people will just constantly seek to understand that perspective more and sympathise with it like hell I’ve seen it with the people in my life doing it and it’s like woah those situations are very different I need you to recognise that

Loved hearing your view of it and it totally made sense!!!

Gonna see if there are any quick asks I can answer before I get back to my revision cos I definitely yapped more than I expected for this

[shu-of-the-wind]

saw some tags on a reblog i did but yes, iroquois is a derogatory term. it's a french bastardization of (i believe) the algonquin word for "snake." the term is used to describe member tribes of the haudenosaunee (approximate pronunciation ho-di-no-SHO-ni) confederacy in the capital region of the us and up into canada, which include:

Mohawk / Kanienʼkehá꞉ka (approximate pronunciation "gah-nyen-geh-hah-ga") - “People of the Flint." Also referred to as the “Keepers of the Eastern Door” because they are the nation furthest to the east in the Confederacy. (alix note: mohawk communities are predominantly in canada but there are bands in northern new york as well.)

Oneida / Onyota’a:ká (approximate pronunciation "oh-nyo-DA-aw-GA") - “People of the Standing Stone” (there are two Oneida nations in the US, one in NY, one in Wisconsin, because of,,,y'know. displacement.)

Onondaga / Onöñda’gegá’ (approximately pronounced "ohnen-DA-geh-GA") - “People of the Hills.” Also referred to as the “Keepers of the Central Fire” because they were the center and capital of the Confederacy

Cayuga / Gayogo̱hó꞉nǫ' (approximately pronounced "guy-yo-KO-no") - “People of the Great Swamp”

Seneca / Onöndawá'ga (approximately pronounced "Oh-nown-da-WA-gah") - “People of the Great Hill.” Also known as the “Keepers to the Western Door” because they are the nation furthest to the west in the Confederacy

Tuscarora / Skarù:ręˀ (approximately pronounced "ska-ruh-reh") - “The Shirt Wearing People" or "the hemp gatherers" In 1722, the Tuscarora moved from North Carolina to the Haudenosaunee area to seek refuge and they were invited to join the Confederacy

all nations in the confederacy are still extant and all (to the best of my knowledge) have programs to keep their languages alive; i've linked to the govt websites for each nation.

just like...as a general rule of thumb if something sounds french (or european, tbh) and it's being applied to indigenous peoples of the americas it's safe to assume it's probably not the right word to use. (exceptions exist: the st croix band of ojibwe, etc.) rule of thumb is double check and you can do this very easily by searching "[name of nation] tribal government website" to see what names and terms are acceptable.

(i keep forgetting to put this on posts but yeah, i'm white. i grew up in haudenosaunee territory, i work in indian law [canadians don't fight me, that's the legal term in the us, i don't like it either], and this is basic 101 stuff that every settler in the us needs to fuckin know.)

eta: this should also be obvious but if a mohawk, tuscarora, seneca, cayuga, onondaga, or oneida person self-describes as iroqouis, leave them the fuck alone. same rule of thumb as a lesbian self-describing as dyke. as a lesbian, i get to reclaim that word. as a white person, i do not get to reclaim iroquois. it's that simple.

[running-with-the-feels]

Raiden:(summoning himself into Kuai Liangs home) You and I have unfinished business involving your sad excuse of a brother and "daughter". They broke in and-

Kuai Liang: Took back Kung Laos stuff. I'm aware. He had nothing. Now question is, why are you here?

Raiden: to settle this; you dare cross a God, and I shall make you regret that very decision-

Frost: (walked in to see what was happening)

Raiden: Starting with her!(he electrocuted her)

Sorry this is dumb you don't have to interact I'm just into it

This is amazing and I love it

Kuai Liang, Bi-Han, Hanzo and Kung Lao battle Raiden and manage to force him to flee and Kuai Liang immediately turns to where Frost is laying limp on the floor

Kuai Liang, trying not to panic: Frost? Frost, can you hear me?

Hanzo, turning to Kung Lao: Go get the healers, now

Kung Lao: I don't know where they-

Bi-Han: I'll go with you

Kuai Liang, getting louder as tears pool in his eyes: Frost, I need you to open your eyes for me, okay? Frost?!

Hanzo, kneeling beside him and desperately trying to keep his cool: She's going to be fine, Kuai Liang, I promise, the healers are already on their way

Kuai Liang, crying as he lifts her into his lap: Bǎo bèi?! Bǎo bèi, please, open your eyes!!

Hanzo, cradling Kuai Liang's face and trying to get him to focus: Look at me, look at me! She's going to be fine

Kuai Liang, more terrified than he's ever been in his life: She's not breathing, Hanzo, why isn't she breathing?

Hanzo, moving Kuai Liang's hand so he can feel the movement of Frost's chest: She is, it's just very faint but her heartbeat is still strong, okay? She's going to be fine

Kuai Liang, holding her tighter: My daughter, he tried to kill my daughter

Hanzo, holding back his own tears: And he failed, she's still alive

Healers run in, pulling Frost form Kuai Liang's grasp

Kuai Liang, panicking bc he thinks its another attack: BACK OFF! I WON'T LET YOU-!

Hanzo comes up behind him, pinning his arms to his sides as he holds Kuai Liang tight

Hanzo: It's okay, those are the healers, they're here to help

Kuai Liang: Let me go!

Hanzo: I can't, you have to let them do their work, you have to

Kuai Liang, tears still streaming down his face: Frost!

Hanzo: I know, love, I know how hard this is, but you have to let them help her

Kuai Liang collapses, the two kneeling on the floor once more as Kuai Liang keeps his eyes fixed on his daughter, Hanzo holding him tight and muttering reassurances

Bi-Han stares from the doorway, looking like he's seen a ghost as fury swamps him

Bi-Han: Raiden will pay for this, even if I have to bring his bloody body to Kuai Liang myself

Kung Lao: Might be easier to just take his head

Bi-Han: No. After this? The only people who get to kill that man are Kuai Liang and Frost, whatever it takes I will facilitate that

[mossymandibles]

Forgot to add to the last ask- the otter comic says Kraw is a chimera, is that a natural species or are chimeras created somehow? Because otter grandpa said they're sterile and that happens to some non-natural animal combos irl. Also is his brother a chimera as well?

After just finding out about mayv and the way she looks, it made me think that chimeras are made by witches and not a natural species so I'm super curious now because why did somebody do that to those 2 kids if that's the case :(

In Hallowed Carrion chimera/Chimereals happen between two ‘primordial’ species that couldn’t normally mate, but it involves a ‘false uterus’ created by consuming the celestial body’s flesh. With Kraw it was his sea drake mother and Fury father. (They’re considered to be ‘primordial’ simply because they’ve been around for quite some time, live longer and are usually giants. Most modern day islanders don’t believe/know their kind exists, kind of like how we are with modern conspiracies of the ‘megalodon still existing in the marianna trench’).

It is a trait among chimereals that they are sterile. They’re also known by their abnormal growth hormones which causes them to keep growing/evolving for who knows how long. There’s actually a lot of prejudice held against them and they don’t often live in regular society like Kraw does, they’re usually considered dangerous and they’re often loners.

Most of this is only known because of Sylvaine learning about Serkan who is also a chimereal, albeit much older than Kraw. She’s actively studying chimereals through Kraw now. (He was actually very upset to learn he was sterile :(

And I’ve wanted to show more about Titus! It’s hard to balance my attention to everything lol.

Titus is also a chimereal. He was born on a specialized mill where they attempted to breed marine chimereals like him for hunting purposes. Most chimereals that come out of the mills end up dead, malformed or ‘defective’, so he was ‘lucky’. He also would have had the ability to breathe fire, but his flint glands were removed, like declawing a cat. He was kind of mean and he certainly had it harder than Kraw with Mayv. She didn’t even know he could speak when she first got him because his throat was fucked after they cut his flint glands out. He was about 7 when she got him and he was already known to be unruly/uncontrollable in the mill. They would have put him down if Mayv hadn’t come along. She took care of him though despite keeping a firm hand and eventually he came to see her as a surrogate mother.

He definitely got a jealous streak when she brought Kraw home. Mayv would often be fawning over how Kraw “came from the sea, so he would make such a great hunter and how beautiful his colors were and-“ blah blah blaaah. Titus hadn’t even seen the sea until Mayv rescued him, and he thought Kraw was just a little ‘flat-faced softie’. He would often goad him into fights. There’s a lot more to it, but eventually he and Kraw came to find their similarities, mostly through comforting each other through night terrors and exploring the swamps together.

Although Mayv also saw them like her own sons, she often towed the line between training them like animals and treating them like regular children. She was of course still very loving but it was often muddled by her militant expectations of them out on the ocean. Titus and Kraw worked for Mayv as ‘mer-hounds’, which are marine creatures that are trained to effectively hunt and catch mermaids or other large oceanic game, sort of like how some fishermen would use ducks. That was what the mills were breeding marine creatures for.

As of present day, a lot had gone down between Kraw and his brother, and a lot happened where Kraw had to leave the Shades as well. Kraw doesn’t know what’s become of his brother and whether or not Mayv is even alive. I do plan to get into that.

I can show you a sort of wip I have of him, but he might get a bit of a cleanup? Just because this is older art. I had planned to make growth charts for he and Kraw for a while now. Awkward teenage years and such.

[swamp-spirit]

Swamp's Small-Talk Tips!

My power is that, despite being incredibly socially awkward in 99% of situations, I love small-talk. I'll get to know the person next to me in line! I'll talk about the weather! I'll learn what family members/pets/hobbies co-workers like to talk about!

The core of small talk is just saying "I am interested in your life and care about your experiences".

Small talk is fun because it has very clear rules and also you can win at it (make somebody happy). Here's my small talk tips-

-If it's a 'getting to know you' conversation, start with the shared situation. If you meet somebody traveling, you could ask where they're going. That opens up follow up questions. Going on vacation? What are they looking forward to?

-If they ask a question, and the question could also apply to them, it's polite to ask them the question back. ("Oh, I'm headed to Nevada. What about you?") Most people are not actually just trying to quiz you, and feeling like it can feel like doing all the work to keep the conversation going. Think of it like tennis: Receive the question, give a meaningful answer, return the conversation to them.

-You can give negative answers, but don't dwell in the negative. When somebody says "how are you today" they are trying to communicate they care enough to check in. You aren't expected to say "great, how are you!", but being negative is seen as a bid for sympathy and for the conversation to turn towards comfort. Some days, this may be what you need, but sympathy takes a lot of energy, even for the neurotypical. If somebody always focuses on the negative, it makes the conversation always focus on comforting them instead of something more positive and mutual. As a rule of thumb IMO, if you're in a normal bad mood, don't lie, but keep it light and shift focus. "Ah, I'm pretty sleepy. How are you?" (translation, I slept for hours and am running on a single protein bar and spite, but do not need to shift the conversation towards me). So, unless you really are asking for some attention and comfort, don't fake happy but downplay ("could be better", "still alive", "hoping to feel better after some coffee") and distract ("how about you?") This can also be good for reframing your own mood and focusing on the ways your day could improve or is going well.

-The reason weather comes up so much is because it's a shared experience with people in your area. We all drove to work in the snow today! Let us exchange Driving to Work in the Snow experiences! But there are many shared experiences that aren't the weather (and aren't touchy like major news stories). This is why things like traffic, location based sensory experiences (like loud construction), or shared inconvenience are common.

-Show interest in what the other person shares. Most stories have an intended reaction. "What happened was impressive, I want this affirmed." "That's awesome. What did she say?" "What happened was difficult, I want this affirmed" "Ah, that sucks so much. I hate it when that happens." Remember this is small talk. Most people are not looking for solutions right now. They probably don't know you well, and you don't know their situation well.

-Ask about previous conversations. Small talk is about showing you care, and remembering is one of the best ways. "How'd (your dog's name) handle the fireworks", "Did you end up seeing (your cousin's) play", "I know you love (media), did you see the (new thing)?". Remembering what's going on in their lives matters to people.

Some additional go-to topics: -Ask about plans for upcoming breaks/weekends. Often, the answer will be that they aren't doing anything or are doing something unpleasant, but you can affirm that taking a relaxing weekend is great or that having to spend the weekend doing taxes is rough -Follow their interests. Crafts, fashion, ren-faire, whatever. Find the things that make them light up. -Point out physical objects in their space. Cool earrings, a cute desk magnet, a photo of a pet, and compliment them.

Topics to avoid -Remember that not everybody has a good family relationship, and questions that assume that can be landmines -Lots of people are upset about being single, so don't ask if people are in a relationship -In general, avoid hot buttons like religion/politics until you know them well

Also remember a lot of other people aren't great at small-talk. Every office will have somebody who responds to every "how are you today" with a fifteen minute monologue of minor problems or never turns questions back to you.

You can deal with them through most of the things on this list (showing sympathy for their minor complaints, trying to show interest in what they're saying), or you can choose to disengage.

Good luck, and may you find the topic to make a stranger's day!

[ahsoka-its-all-of-us]

Anyone up for a little sneak peak from the next part of my Kalluzeb series? :3

Zeb, in his eternal positivity, had taken it upon himself to keep the mood light by firing a relentless onslaught of jokes and witty stories his way. Part of Alexsandr wanted to tell him to stop, that he deserved the constant reminders, but he hadn’t been able to bring himself to do it. Not when Zeb’s efforts felt like a soothing balm to his tortured soul. Not when Zeb so clearly wanted him to lighten up, the way he beamed whenever he managed to get a chuckle out of the former Imperial tugging on something deep within Alexsandr that for all his eloquence he couldn’t quite articulate. “You know,” Zeb said, in a feigned airy tone that got counteracted by the way the corners of his mouth were twitching, “I accidentally stumbled upon some erotic novel about the Hutt family once.” Alexsandr blinked at him, caught off guard, whilst next to him Rex snickered. “W-what?” “You know how it was titled?” Zeb went on, face an odd mixture between perfect innocence and blatant smugness. But Alexsandr was still processing the first bit of information. “How the hell did you stumble upon that???” “I was, er… gathering intel” Zeb said smoothly. “Not important. You know what the title was.” “I’ve seen a lot of horrifying things when researching, but I can’t recall filing anything like that” Alexsandr said. “No clue.” Zeb’s grin broke through in all its glory. “Jabba the Smut.”

Yes hi I'm still alive! (sort of, considering I've been home with a raging fever for a week) As usual work has me absolutely swamped, considering I now lead a department despite being the youngest person there whoops 😅 The good news is though that my incompetent asshole boss is leaving, so my efforts have not been for nothing! I'm currently looking to partially succeeding him lmao, so don't expect my life to get any less busy in the coming years 😇 And that is even without the awesome things I'm setting up with our local orchestra

But yeah anyway, that's a short life update. I'm still here, I still wanna write, I just by gods don't know when because I have so many incredible things going on in my life that literally the only time I can find to write is when said things get to me and I pretty much drain myself so hard that I just crash for like a week whoops 😬 I do try to read everything people sent me or tag me in or update, and I really do wanna respond, but that's why I haven't always managed yet ;-;

[sarandipitywrites]

DRDW draft 2 update 12/5 (IT'S DONE)

yes, draft 2 of Dead Roots, Dark Water is DONE. all those scattered documents and pictures of handwritten scenes (why did i do that, i should have just typed them out right after writing it, uggghhh) are finally in one, edited, cohesive document.

[image id: a screenshot from a word processor. it reads: "Words: 176,697. Characters: 982,176. Page: 292 of 292. end image id.]

one absurdly long, edited, cohesive document. i didn't mean for it to get this bad i swear, this is fanfic, why did i do this.

and now we're on to draft 3! i'm planning on taking a week or so to work on the plot revision for The Art of Empty Space (and to not stare at this draft for a minute) and then i'll be working on draft 3 for the rest of december. after that, who knows? i want to start redrafting AES in january, but we'll see how badly this sinks its claws into me ;)

short excerpt because... end of the story, basically everything is spoilers. but this part isn't so bad

"And what? You think I could still be a sage?" "Sure, why not? Hey, maybe you could be a dark sage, too. You're probably better with that stuff than anyone else alive, at this point. Is that even a thing? Dark sage?" Jak snorted. "Yeah, I'm sure Samos would be happy about that. His own apprentice, a sage of chaos and entropy." "Fuck yeah, who wouldn't be? I can see it now: Jak Sabo, the first dark eco sage. Samos'll swear you in, teach you the secret handshake and everything. You'll go off and make your home in a shack in Boggy Swamp—" "I have to live in the swamp?" "Uh, yeah? Swamps are hotbeds of chaos and entropy, babe. Keep up. You'll live in the swamp, where only the worthy will find you and seek your teaching. You'll cultivate all these weird, awesome plants. You'll mutate a bunch of swamp rats to do your bidding. We'll never have to sweep the floors, 'cause they'll do it with their little rat-sized brooms—" "You'll be there?" Warmth bloomed in his chest. "Obviously. How else am I supposed to live in your attic?"

general taglist (ask to be added or removed): @innocentlymacabre

DRDW taglist (ask to be added or removed): no one (yet)

[darkdevasofdestruction]

If you're still taking death mark requests. The reader convincing daimon to take a break and get some sleep, maybe with some very convincing cuddles? People tend to get sleepy when they feel safe :)

-@dragon-anon

The hospital was always bustling with activity, and today was no exception. Daimon, as usual, moved from one patient to another, barely taking a moment to breathe, let alone stay hydrated or eating at least a protein bar the entire day. His expertise and dedication made him invaluable, even in spite of his lack of manners when talking to the patients, but it also meant he was constantly in demand - And he can blame that on himself only. You watched him from the window of your office; concern etched on your face as you saw the exhaustion in his eyes. It had been over two weeks of non-stop work on his shoulders, to the point that he hadn't the time to return home and sleep; Hell, he even showered at the hospital.

You'd been working together at the hospital for over a decade - That's how you two met and got together. Your relationship only strengthened when you both received the Mark and fought for your lives; And then, during the Konoehara tragedies... Still, years passed since then, and Shuuji only took more work on his shoulders. Sure, he was frustrated that his younger colleagues weren't doing things properly, and the older ones were too old to take on so much work.

What was worse - It wasn't the patient-care that destroyed him... It was the mountains of paperwork he was piled under. He was determined to do everything himself, so that you would be able to return home and have a proper lifestyle; Eat, drink, sleep, relax, repeat -- much unlike him.

It had been days since he had a proper break, a day off, and you knew he couldn't keep going like this. His sickness was getting worse by the minute due to all the strain he was putting on himself. Determined to get him to rest, you waited for a moment when he wasn’t swamped with work. Finally, you saw him step into the break room, probably for a quick sip of coffee.

"Shuu." you called softly as you entered the room. He looked up, surprise flickering in his tired eyes.

"You were supposed to be home by now. It's past 8 in the evening." he grunted, though his voice lacked its usual firmness. "Come on, I'll drive you home. I can't let you go alone at this hour."

"Only if you remain home with me." you tried to make a deal, but he refused.

"Y/N, please, don't be stubborn. I'm too tired to deal with this." he sighed, leaning back on the locker to keep standing up. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I can't afford to rest. There are too many patients, and far too much bureaucracy for this profession." he sneered under his breath. "Last time I checked, I studied for over a decade to get a stethoscope, not a stamp."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his usual snark. At least that one was still alive. "Last time I checked we were doctors, not accountants." you giggled softly. "Thankfully for the both of us, I'm very efficient with paperwork - In fact, I'm perfectly up to date with mine." you reached out and gently took his hand. "And now, while you take a quick nap, I will finish yours also."

"I am a few weeks behind. You couldn't possibly -- You'll be doing paperwork for weeks; And you'll need glasses prescription which I can't give." came his exhausted comeback. He couldn't even fight back.

"Let me worry about trivialities, yeah?" you winked at him, guiding him to his office to lay down on the couch. "Now, take a rest. I'm going to have a fine date with these papers now."

"You're lucky I'm too tired to argue with you." just as expected, he was out like a light.

The tension in his body slowly began to melt away. You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. "You work so hard, Shuuji. Let me take care of you, even if it's just for a little while." you whispered, stroking his black hair for a while, before sitting in his comfy desk chair and taking the pile of papers.

Indeed, it took many hours on the clock to go through so much papers, but you were far more efficient at slamming your husband's stamp on those papers - As efficient as you were at giving his credit card when shopping - And although you weren't able to get up to date with the papers, you got very close. Poor man was almost a whole month behind - Speaks volumes to how good of a doctor he was.

Every once in a while, you'd turn to look at him; Your heart ached at the sight of him so worn out, but you were glad he was finally getting some well deserved rest. You knew how dedicated he was to his patients, but you also knew that he needed to take care of himself to continue helping others. That's one thing he never took into consideration. It was time to take a proper break - A vacation. Come morning, the roles reversed; Daimon began to stir awake, blinking his eyes open, looking up at you with a mix of confusion and gratitude. This time, you were fast asleep, sprawled all over the papers on the desk, his stamp still in your hand.

"And you say I'm the menace." he smiled softly, shaking his head at her loving stubbornness. "You win. We're going on vacation. One whole month." though fast asleep, you seemed to hear what he was saying, for you unconsciously smiled. The gesture made the man chuckle. "Alright, already. I'm booking the tickets now - Yes, my credit card."

[jupitervega]

oooooooooooomg @mimi-mindless tagged me in this back in april & i'm just now gettin around to it 😓😓😓

ANYWAY here we go

15 Questions for 15 Friends

ARE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE?

- i named myself after stars 🌟

WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED?

- pff prob in the last few days if i have to guess

DO YOU HAVE KIDS?

- absolutely not BUT i am available to be a fun supportive uncle to my friends' children. spiritually i aim to be the queer i needed to see in the world as a kid so i like to think i could be any queer kid's uncle if they need one, but i'm still workshoppin the details on that part

WHAT SPORTS DO YOU PLAY/HAVE YOU PLAYED?

- i'm made of creaky bones & pain so i don't sport much, but years ago i was trainin to join a roller derby team back in ms & that was super fun to be involved with. aimless swimmin is real nice. when body allows i love to slow hike short distances on easy paths in the mountains for the views & fresh air

DO YOU USE SARCASM?

- yea sometimes i guess?

WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE?

- probably trauma response but usually the body language. eye contact ain't great for me always so i'm watchin for tells in the stance & movement

WHAT'S YOUR EYE COLOR?

- when the last rays of sunset strike the cypress swamp & the water glows amber rich like honey

SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS?

- happy endin! my life has already been a horror show & i wanna be HAPPY & SAFE God Damb It All

ANY TALENTS?

- kept myself alive for over 3 decades now 👍

WHERE WERE YOU BORN?

- where the last lowest weary southwestern foothills of appalachia meet the swamps & rivers. possum & gator country

WHAT ARE YOUR HOBBIES?

- i try to get the art outta me any way i can. linocut, crochet, poetry, prose, whatever i can bend into shape

DO YOU HAVE ANY PETS?

- i wanna cat real bad but i can't afford to keep one 💔

HOW TALL ARE YOU?

- averagely i spose? 169cm more or less

FAVOURITE SUBJECT?

- i'm not studyin atm but i'm big into readin random wikipedia articles

DREAM JOB?

- i don't dream of work, my purpose in this life is to make beautiful things. so i guess i dream of bein an artist

tags & blank under the cut

hmmm tagwise let's have @cedarsaga @cookiethewriter @toopunktofuck @sunshinetheinspiration @phantumpenis @kuja-kujaku @frankierohugejorts @transgender-catboy yea i know that's not 15 but who care lmao. if yr not tagged & wanna do it this is me taggin u in right here. go nuts

blank:

15 Questions for 15 Friends

ARE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE?

WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED?

DO YOU HAVE KIDS?

WHAT SPORTS DO YOU PLAY/HAVE YOU PLAYED?

DO YOU USE SARCASM?

WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE?

WHAT'S YOUR EYE COLOR?

SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS?

ANY TALENTS?

WHERE WERE YOU BORN?

WHAT ARE YOUR HOBBIES?

DO YOU HAVE ANY PETS?

HOW TALL ARE YOU?

FAVOURITE SUBJECT?

DREAM JOB?

[andiinaraethtash]

Chapter 23: Of Being Intimate with Brokenness

Sooooo…. I'm aware it is now March and the last chapter was uploaded in, like, January or something (it might have been December, I didn't check), but in my defence life has been insane. Like legitimately insane. I moved into a new apartment, so between all those logistics adn expenses and work and all that, I've been swamped, and then me and my roommate got dogs--one each, and they are so sweet--and yeah. That's been my life for the past two and a half months. Completely nuts. Chapter title from Son by Sleeping At Last

__________

Joel isn’t quite sure when he’ll be going home, but he is sure that it won’t be for a little while, at least until Scott is back on his feet so Jimmy isn’t spending every moment of every day in Rivendell. Right now, Joel’s staying with Lizzie, which would be fine, except that she’s hovering constantly, and he’s almost desperate to get back home to make sure everything is in order.

He’s ruling from afar, literally, at the moment, trusting that everything will be fine while he’s gone, but that does little to assuage the worry that Exor did something to Mezalea that Aeor didn’t fix. The only reason he’s not there is because Lizzie asked him to stay with her, and he just can’t say no to her.

There are a couple of different possible reasons she was so insistent that he stay, one being that she’s got a lot on her plate between overseeing the Ocean Empire and filling in for Jimmy, who still hasn’t left Rivendell, by ruling the Cod Empire in his stead. It’s not been easy on her, worried as she is about the entirety of the two empires, and all her friends as well, but she’s doing a remarkable job of keeping it together.

Which, of course, leads to the second reason she’s insisting he stay close to her—he’d nearly died so many times the night of the battle, and he knows she’s been having nightmares. The two have to be linked, because more often than not, he wakes up to her watching him with a haunted look in her eyes. She needs him nearby to constantly check and make sure he’s still alive.

Honestly, he’s only surprised she isn’t insisting Jimmy stay nearby as well, but maybe she understands that he needs to stay with Scott right now. She is, however, sending messages to Katherine every day, though she doesn’t always reply. If Joel had to guess, he’d say it’s because she isn’t home very often. After all, she’s been taking care of Rivendell while Scott has been comatose.

Shrub has been taking care of the Grimlands, with a bit of help from Sausage, while Pearl is overseeing the Crystal Cliffs, since fWhip is obviously out of commission and Gem, while uninjured, is in no state to rule.

The past few days—few weeks, really—has been hard on all of them, but especially the Wither Rose Alliance. First they lost Gem, then fWhip got possessed, the Pearl had to kill Scott—and had killed Joel himself, too, which he still was bitter about—then finally the two women had been reunited with Sausage and they’d had to near-fatally injure fWhip to keep him from killing Gem. Gods, what a mess. He’s surprised he hasn’t heard about a few more mental breakdowns. He’s honestly kind of expecting multiple at this point.

“Joel!” Lizzie’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts, and he shakes his head to clear his mind.

“Yes, dear?”

Lizzie’s frowning at him in concern. “I asked how your shoulder’s doing.”

As if by magic—or his shoulder hearing her question and deciding to be cruel—his shoulder starts aching again, a dull throb that travels all the way to his neck and up to the base of his skull. It pulses in time to his heart beat, and he grimaces, massaging the area.

“Not any worse,” he says honestly.

Lizzie’s frown deepens, and she steps closer. She looks exhausted. “But not any better, either.”

Joel shakes his head. “No. And yes, before you ask, I have been drinking my potions, it’s just not getting any better.”

Lizzie frowns. “I should get Katherine to come get a look at it, I think something’s wrong.”

No duh, he wants to say, but instead he just grimaces again. “If she’s busy, we can put it off. Gods know she’s got a lot on her plate. But… I would very much like to not be in pain,” he adds when Lizzie gives him a look.

“Good. I’ll send her a message.” Lizzie turns to walk away, and he hurries over to grab her arm. She stiffens under his grasp, but relaxes as soon as she looks over at him. “What?” She asks, but she sounds tired.

“Lizzie,” Joel says as gently as he can, “when was the last time you actually got some sleep?” Lizzie opens her mouth, then stops, thinks about it, then goes to answer again, and Joel shakes his head to cut her off. “Let’s get you to bed, you’re exhausted.”

“There’s no point,” Lizzie says miserably, “I’ll just have more nightmares. Goodness knows I won’t be any more rested when I wake up.”

Joel flashes her his cheekiest, most endearing grin, the one he knows gets her to listen to him. “Just try? For me?”

She holds out for about twelve seconds, which is longer than he thought she would, before caving. “Fine.”

Raising an eyebrow, Joel offers her his arm, which she takes, and leads her up the winding prismarine staircase up to her bedroom. As she yawns, he kicks off his shoes and pulls back the covers, but he doesn’t lay down (he doesn’t like lying in her bed anyway, it makes him feel as thought he’s a child in his parents’ bed). Instead, he sits, pats the bed next to him, and waits while she settles into a comfortable sleeping position.

Once she’s settled down, he scoots closer and has her use his lap as a pillow. Sitting back against the headboard, he begins stroking her hair, humming a lullaby he’s heard her sing for Jimmy one night when the nightmares got really bad. She smiles as he does, so he assumes he’s either reminding her of good memories or is very off-key (hopefully the former, probably the latter), but either way her breathing soon evens out and he sighs, glad to see her resting for once.

He stays that way for probably an hour or two, humming the whole while, before a knock at the doorway has him looking up and frowning. “Jimmy?”

Jimmy waves awkwardly from his spot half-leaning against one of the pillars that mark the entrance. “Hey. Is Lizzie okay?”

Joel glances down at his wife, who still hasn’t stirred, then back up at Jimmy. “Yeah, she’s fine, just tired. What about Scott, I thought you weren’t going to leave till he was back on his feet?”

Shrugging, Jimmy steps inside and makes a beeline for the nearest chair. “He told me to go home and get some ‘proper rest.’”

“Wait,” Joel immediately latches on to the news left unspoken by those words, “he told you?”

Jimmy raises his eyebrows in concern. “Did you not see my message? I sent one an hour ago.”

Shaking his head, Joel explains, “We’ve been in bed for the last few hours. Like this, you moron, not like how you’re thinking,” he adds, gesturing at their respective positions when Jimmy blushes. “But that’s good news. I’m just surprised you listened to him.”

“I listen all the time!” Jimmy protests, then, when Joel shushes him, he repeats more quietly, “I listen all the time, I just don’t always obey.”

“Which is part of the problem, Jimmy,” Joel says, smirking slightly. “But that’s beside the point. Is someone with Scott right now, or should we head that way?”

Jimmy shakes his head. “Nah, Katherine is with him at the moment, and I think Shrub might be on her way to Rivendell. I swung by the Undergrove on the way here,” He adds in explanation, “but I was also planning on swinging by Pixandria before heading home. I want to check on everyone.”

“Jimmy,” Joel groans. “What part of ‘getting some proper rest’ do you not understand?”

“I’ll rest when I get home! Y’know, after I visit Pix and make sure he’s okay!” Joel wants to protest this, but Jimmy cuts him off before he can. “Look, Joel. I need to check on him for the same reason Lizzie needs you here: I need to know all of you are safe before I can rest. I just… I need to.”

Joel deflates at that. He tells himself it’s because Jimmy’s arguments are convincing, not because he’s breaking out those damn puppy eyes, but really, who is he fooling? “Fine. But if Lizzie or I show up later to make sure you’re actually resting and you’re not, there’ll be hell to pay.”

“Okay, okay. Yeesh.”

With that, Jimmy stands, stretches, and heads out. Joel watches him go, not entirely happy. Jimmy has been running himself ragged taking care of Scott, trying to find some way of healing him, and he’s still not slowing down, even if his focus has shifted. Joel is tempted for a long moment to follow him, make sure he actually goes home after he sees that Pix is perfectly fine, but then Lizzie shifts in his lap, grumbling slightly, and he looks down at her, running his hand through her hair again.

No, he decides. Lizzie needs him more. As much as he loves Jimmy, he loves Lizzie more. She’s what matters at the moment.

_______

Neither Pearl, Gem, or Sausage move for a second, too shocked to do or say anything, but then Nova yips as she wriggles her nose under fWhip’s hand like she’s trying to get him to pet her, and the spell is broken. Sausage surges toward the door, while Pearl hurries to the bed, shoving Nova aside as gently as she can while in a rush, and quickly does what Gem recognizes as a battlefield assessment to see if he’s actually awake or not.

Sausage, meanwhile, is yelling for someone to fetch Avery or Aislinn or someone who knows the healing arts. Gem lets him yell. She’s still glued to the same spot, eyes locked on her brother, because it’s been over a week since she’s seen him awake and himself, and when she had seen him last he’d been all but screaming at her to run, trying to hold back a god so she could get away, and the shock of that is still catching up to her.

She feels like she needs air, but she also knows that’s silly, she’s getting air, she can feel her chest rising and falling as she breathes, and the window’s open, and she can see the tapestry on the far wall fluttering from the breeze that’s flowing through the room. There is air in here, and in her lungs, so why is her vision getting dim, and why are her knees weak, what’s wrong—

Pearl turns to her, and her eyes widen. “Gem, breathe.”

What does she mean, breathe? Gem has been—

Her lungs suddenly burn, and she inhales sharply, nearly bowled over by the sudden rush of oxygen. Oh. She’d been hyperventilating. Tears prick her eyes and she feels like she’s one wrong move away from shattering.

It’s stupid, she knows, that after everything, it’s fWhip waking up that makes her break. She should be relieved, she should be happy, but instead she’s paralyzed.

“—em. Gem.”

When did Pearl move? She’s in Gem’s space, hands on her shoulders, looking into Gem’s eyes like she can see her very soul, and—

Gem bursts into tears. It’s sudden, like a firework exploding, and it clearly startles Pearl, who jumps as Gem sobs.

“Gem, it’s okay, he’s alive—” Pearl starts, and Gem interrupts, hiccoughing.

“I lost him,” she practically wails. “I lost him, and I did this to him, it’s my fault, I did this to him—” She’s too busy trying to catch her breath to bother finishing her sentence or explain what she meant.

But it is. It’s her fault. If she hadn’t let him knock her down, if she’d managed to teach Scott how to control his powers instead of getting hurt by them, if she’d saved him from Xornoth back when he first died, everything would be different.

Pearl looks like she wants to protest, but then she glances over her shoulder, and Gem follows her gaze.

Avery and another healer, one that Gem vaguely recognizes from Eastvale, have arrived sometime while she was absorbed in her guilt, and they’re trying to get a response from her brother, and it’s not working, he’s not answering their questions, and he’s not even reacting to the candle they keep passing in front of his eyes.

What’s happened to him? He’s awake, he should be fine if he’s awake, Scott is awake and aware, why can’t fWhip be alright as well? Her head is spinning, she realises, and she needs to sit, she needs to collapse under the weight she’s carrying before it breaks her completely.

Thankfully, Pearl seems to read this from Gem’s expression, and she quickly wraps an arm around her shoulders and guides her out of the room. Gem fights for a second as they leave, not wanting to leave fWhip behind again, but Pearl just pulls her closer and murmurs soft reassurances in her ear.

“We need to take care of you right now,” she catches Pearl saying, and it makes sense, it does, but she needs to be with fWhip, she needs to know if her brother is going to be alright—

“Gem!” Pearl pulls her to a stop, coming around to face her. “Gem, listen to me, he’s okay, alright? He’s awake, he’s got Sausage and Avery with him, he’s going to be fine, but you’re freaking out, and you’re freaking me out, and you know I don’t like being freaked out. So please, let me take care of you.”

She hesitates, but that also means she stops fighting for a second, and Pearl takes that to mean she can start directing her down the hall again. Gem glances at her face, about to protest, but stops when she sees that Pearl is very clearly holding herself together by sheer willpower at this point, probably for Gem’s sake, and if she keeps pushing her, Pearl is eventually gonna break, and Gem doesn’t want that to happen, under any circumstances, ever.

Somehow—Gem doesn’t know how, and later she’ll find she doesn’t remember, either—they end up in fWhip’s study. Pearl shuts the door behind them, then has Gem sit at the desk.

It’s a mess in here, as the maids know better than to touch any of fWhip’s work spaces, and the futile hope that he’ll recover is keeping them from doing even a light dusting. Honestly, the only time he cleans anything up is when it’s getting in the way of his work.

There are papers strewn everywhere, torn into shreds and covered in ink spots near the wall where a shattered ink pot lies. A fine layer of dust covers everything, and Gem can see motes of it dancing in the sunlight that streams through the thin windows. She shudders when she sees the claw marks on the walls and bookshelves (most of which are filled with blueprints and gadgets rather than actual books, though even those have been taken out and torn apart).

Exor must have taken out his rage on this room—and maybe some of the others, she’s noticed several places where furniture has been strategically moved as if to cover bits of disrepair. She just hopes those spots can be repaired soon. If fWhip ever recovers, he shouldn’t be surrounded by reminders of his time being possessed.

If. That’s the most important word in that sentence, because she has a sinking feeling in her stomach that all their hope is for naught. After seeing Exor do… whatever he did to fWhip in the Nether, she has doubts, and she knows Pearl does, too.

“Gem,” Pearl starts, but Gem doesn’t let her finish.

“He’s not going to get better, is he.” It’s a question and a statement all at the same time, and she knows Pearl knows it, and doesn’t know how to respond.

So Pearl sighs instead, and says, “We don’t know that for certain—”

“But it’s likely.” Gem doesn’t need her to tell her the odds, because that has always been Gem’s job. She’s the one with the facts, the numbers, the answers. And sure, she doesn’t know the exact probability, but she and Pearl both know it’s high. “After… after what happened in the Nether, after everything Exor did to him, made him do… I’m not sure I’d want to recover if our roles were reversed.”

“Gem!” Pearl exclaims, sounding indignant. “You’d recover for the same reason he will: for us. For the Wither Rose Alliance. For our friends, our family. You know it, I know it, so stop doubting him.”

“I’ve never doubted him,” Gem insists, trying to figure out how to phrase this. “I… Pearl, Exor killed him. You didn’t see the look in his eyes when I fought him out on the plains. It was… he was dead, Pearl. Dead and empty and gone, do you understand? I don’t doubt him, I doubt there’s anything left of him.”

Pearl shakes her head stubbornly. “You can’t give up on him now, not when he needs you most. Besides, Aeor did a lot of fixing things before he died, maybe one of the things he did was heal fWhip?”

“You can’t heal the dead, Pearl, believe me, I’ve tried.”

“Gem!” Pearl slams her hand down on the desk, and Gem winces. Pearl carries on regardless. “This isn’t like you, what’s got you thinking this way?”

Gem opens her mouth to answer, then stops, considers, and sighs. “I’m just… I’m just so tired of this, Pearl. Of not knowing if I’m losing him or not. Of grieving for him only to get him back and lose him all over again. Of mourning him when he’s not even dead. I just want the universe to make up its mind as to whether or not it’s going to take him or not, that way… that way I’ll at least know.”

Pearl sighs, and nods. “I know what you mean. But Gem,” steel enters her eyes and her voice, “We can’t give up hope. We can’t. We give up hope, we give up on him, and he’ll know. He’ll think we hate him for what he was forced to do, and that’ll make him not want to get better. Us hoping might be the only thing keeping him going, even if he’s not conscious enough to hear us.”

Gem doesn’t respond. She doesn’t know what to say. Clearly, though, Pearl has said her piece, because after a moment, she starts going around, picking up the ruined papers and the shards of the broken ink pot and trying to put the blueprints back together again. Gem watches with a slight smile. It’s funny, seeing Pearl struggle to find which piece goes to which blueprint, but she doesn’t laugh. She’s too busy thinking.

About the time she’s come to that conclusion that Pearl is right and they have to keep up the hope that fWhip will get better, there’s a knock at the door, and Sausage pokes his head in. He grimaces as he looks around, clearly displeased by the state of the study, but focuses quickly on Gem and Pearl.

“Avery wants to talk to you,” he says succinctly, and when Gem rises and goes to leave, he puts a hand on her shoulder. “You okay?” He asks gently, and she hesitates, then nods.

“I’ll be better when fWhip is, too.”

Sausage smiles at that, and lets her take the lead as they make their way back, with Gem hoping against hope that her brother actually will get better.

[driz-zle]

⌕ JUST IN: EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW

NOW UPLOADED: EPISODE #1 / EXES AND OH'S! / M.R.

Featuring: Sponsor! Mikage Reo and Actress! Y/n L/n Bonus Appearance: Pro Gamer! Nagi Seishiro Tropes: Arranged Marriage

VIDEO SEGMENTS: ###. WHAT IS YOUR NAME AND YOUR EX'S NAME? (Introduction) #1. Who took the break-up the hardest? #2. What do you miss the most about your relationship? #3. What bad habit about the other did you dislike?

We decided to bring together pairs of ex-lovers, iconic and famous all around the world, for a little Q&A. Welcome to Exes and Oh's! First up, Mikage Reo and Y/n L/n, an "IT couple" for many! The ex-couple debuted their relationship at the Oscars, where actress Y/n L/n dedicated her award won to her then-boyfriend, Mikage Reo in a loving display. Their fanbase grew day by day as they kept posting each other on social media, showed up together at events, and kept being sighted together, so what a shock it was to find out that they had split off!

###. WHAT IS YOUR NAME AND YOUR EX'S NAME? (Introduction)

"My name is Y/n L/n, an actress, and my ex's name is Mikage Reo."

"My name is Mikage Reo. I am CEO of the Mikage Corporation and the Sponsor of the band "EGOIST/S" and my ex's name is Y/n L/n."

#1. Who took the break-up the hardest?

▶ PLAYING: Y/N L/N

"Oh wow, straight to where it hurts huh?" —you chuckle, thinking about it— "I think, the impact it had on us both was enough to make it hurt."

"Can you elaborate on that?"

"Well, Reo is always swamped with work and meetings, and I'm either at events, filming, or preparing to. The selfish part of me wants to say that I took it the hardest, since, we did break it off in the middle of filming a big production. The baggage from my job as an actress and our personal issues, it was— it was just a lot."

"It was revealed soon after your break-up that your relationship was arranged ever since you were children?"

"It was. We met when we were young and we hit it off. Eventually, we were put in an arranged marriage."

"But you two never reached that stage."

"Yes —a sad smile comes across your face— we didn't."

"You stated that you wanted to believe that you took it the hardest, I assume there's a but?"

"I can't fully bring myself to think that."

"Why is that?"

"Because I know he tried to keep our relationship alive just as much as I did."

You don't know what day it is, just that it's morning with the sun peeking through your windows.

There are clothes on the floor, a tub or two of ice cream on your night stand where a polaroid picture of you and Reo sat atop. You're crying again.

Three knocks on your hotel room door. "Y/n L/n! Open up!" You can't even bring yourself to roll your eyes at your manager's attempts. Your head rolls over to the sight of the closet. Eyes catching sight of the extra football jersey with the number 14. You're crying even more.

The mattress and blanket alike are damp. While you don't know what day it is, you do know that you've been crying all night. Why wouldn't you? Every single thing you owned brought back memories. You hate that you can't hide from him anywhere.

Your phone? Texts, photos, reminders, notes, hell even your wallpaper. Your hotel room? His old jersey you always pack, the Polaroid picture of you two you always carry, even some of the fucking clothes you have in your closet were gifts from him.

Your bed dips, and a sigh is pulled out of your manager. You don't know if it's frustration at the state you're in or pity. Either way, you can't bring yourself to care. The extra keycard is in her hand.

"I'm pathetic."

"Hey, come on, you're not."

You're about to retort but she cuts you off, "You just came out of a 5 year relationship. You have every right to be upset, sad, angry, frustrated, or whatever you feel."

"I just don't know what to do." You're full on heaving by now, sobbing in her arms.

#1. Who took the break-up the hardest?

▶ PLAYING: MIKAGE REO

"Y/n. 100%."

"You sound very sure. How come?"

"The break-up was honestly horrible timing, especially for her. She was filming something big and I guess everything just took a toll on both of us. In all honesty, I should've tried to stop it from happening." A bitter smile appears on Reo's face.

"Your relationship was arranged, correct?"

"Yes. Our families were close, we grew up with each other just a call away."

"Did the implication that it was arranged ever deter your relationship?"

"Absolutely not. What we had was as true as any romantic relationship, all the way from start to end."

"Earlier you made it sound as if you were at fault, do you blame yourself?"

He takes a deep breath. "Partly." He purses his lips. "Like I said it was also just horrible timing because everything like the stress, tension, and whatever were all piling up, but I still should've seen the signs. Maybe if I did..."

The interviewer leans forward slightly behind the camera, excited to hear what he is about to admit. But Reo simply shook his head.

"Nevermind."

"Dude. You need to lay off the alcohol."

"Shut up Chigiri." He doesn't even try to hide the fact that he's drunk, all Mikage Reo knows is that he's miserable and that's more than enough of a reason to get black-out drunk.

"The big spender habits still retain while drunk then." Kunigami picks up a bottle from the floor, obviously expensive and with a name he won't even try to pronounce.

"When Nagi told us it was bad, we didn't think it was this bad," Isagi says, glancing around the room which was uncharacteristically messy for someone like Reo. Papers everywhere, bed unmade, closet incredible chaotic.

"Fuck." Isagi's head snaps to his drunken friend who is now trying to stand up. Eventually, he had to be carried by Kunigami to his unmade bed. They're in peace and quiet for the first few moments Reo lays down.

There’s a sniffle, and the group could only look at him in sympathy. "I miss her so much."

#2. What do you miss the most about your relationship?

▶ PLAYING: Y/N L/N

"The moments where we could just be. No CEO Mikage, no actress L/n. Just us."

▶ PLAYING: MIKAGE REO

"The times when we could just breathe. No pressuring business deals, expectations, fans. To me, being with her was my rest."

It's windy, evident from the way your boyfriend was getting annoyed by how his hair kept getting in his face. The breeze is supple and refreshing, accompanied by the quiet splashing of the waves. You can't help but laugh at his frustrations.

"Come here, would you?" He follows, sitting next to you on the lounge chair by the pool. With gentle strokes, you put his hair up, using the extra hair tie you always bring for situations like these. Once you're finished, Reo doesn't hesitate to lay on top of you.

"I love you, you know that?"

"Really? Or are you just saying that because I always have an extra hair tie on hand?"

He scoffs, amused, before carrying you by your thighs. "Reo! Put me down!" You're hitting him the whole time while he laughs and walks toward the pool. Contrary to what you thought, he doesn't throw you in. He carries you as he descends into the deeper ends.

The water level is at his waist while his arms are still wrapped around yours. Embracing him by the neck, you catch whiffs of his signature cologne. "You're annoying, you know that?" All you get is a hum in reply.

His hold tightens as he lifts you up higher, making you have to look down at him. You get a good look at him. Eyebags from days of bad sleep, a sort of tension on his shoulders, and a hint of tiredness in his eyes. "I'm guessing the band is as demanding as always?"

"Not really, throw them enough funds for a concert venue and they shut up." You share a laugh.

You don't think you look any better than his tired state but still, one thing that you can pinpoint is that Mikage Reo looked content.

Eyes half-lidded, it's only a matter of time before the sweet taste of his lips envelops yours. He groans once, and then another. A hand of his lands on your back, not letting you pull away.

Both of you are breathing hard, a satisfied grin on his face and an amused one on yours. "Mikage Reo, you are one needy man."

"Only for you."

By the following week, articles and pictures of you and Reo on the private island were released, leaving netizens in shambles from the loving display. It doesn't stop you from posting a story of your boyfriend tangled in the blankets with you shirtless.

Your PR team won't mind, right?

#3. What bad habit about the other did you dislike?

▶ PLAYING: Y/N L/N

"Reo was an all-rounder in multiple things. Soccer and business for example. That carried onto love languages. Quality time, acts of service, giving and receiving gifts, physical touch, words of affirmation, he could do it all. But he was always heavy on gift giving."

"Reo is, and most likely always will be, a giver at heart. I mean, he literally sponsors his friend's band for the purpose that he wants to be of help."

"So how does it become his bad habit?"

"Whenever we got into an argument, there would always be flowers delivered to my hotel, jewelry atop the nightstand, or a beautiful date to make up for it. But that was it."

"There was no talking about what happened, what was said, or anything about the argument. I think to him, after making up for it in the form of a gift or outing, that was it."

"What about it in particular did you dislike?"

"It got us into more problems because of miscommunication. Most times, there was no communication at all and it put us in a tough spot more than once."

Ruffling comes from the other side of the bed, a telltale sign that Reo is coming to lie next to you. Your right hand is up in the air, the trinkets on your newly done nails catching the light from the lamp beside you.

His body heat makes itself known, with the absence of a shirt, as he embraces you with a peck on your jaw. Reo's purple hair tickles the crevice of your neck as he buries his head. His voice is muffled when he asks, "You like it?"

He gets a satisfied hum, but his head lifts and he knows almost immediately that something is off. His hand brushes your hair, "You okay, love?" You finally look at him, extending your arms out.

He doesn't hesitate to dive into your arms. Your breaths sync and his toned back slowly rises up and down. Reo's just about to fall asleep when you ask oh so quietly, "When are we going to talk about it?"

He blinks. Once, twice, before he lifts himself up, an arm on each side of you. The glint in his eyes is playful and it matches perfectly with the grin on his face. "If you wanted another shopping spree love, you could just ask. Or do you wanna come with me to the band's concert hm?"

"Reo. I'm not joking."

Your stern tone doesn't put him off in the slightest. "Neither am I." He goes back to leaving small kisses on your neck and collarbone, knowing exactly what he's doing. "It's done and it happened right? I'll make it up to you a thousand times more if I have to."

#3. What bad habit about the other did you dislike?

▶ PLAYING: MIKAGE REO

"Y/n has always been independent. Even when we were kids, she would throw fits whenever she was told to stay put because she wanted to do things herself."

"She's always been used to doing things herself, even admitting that she's not used to someone taking care of and doting on her so much. She can push you away at times."

"When something would go wrong at work, or there was a personal problem, she tends to isolate herself. Once it's fixed or she copes with it, it's back to how it was."

"What about it in particular did you dislike?"

"I just thought that after knowing each other our whole lives, she would've let me in."

"Y/n let me in. Please?"

It's been a few hours since you've locked yourself in the guest bedroom. Your take-out order is left sitting cold at the kitchen counter, your bag and keys tidied up next to it by Reo himself.

Something must've gone wrong at filming. No, something most definitely did go wrong. He just called you over lunch and you were perfectly fine back then.

"If you're not going to open this door for me, at least open it to have dinner?"

No response again.

What Reo doesn't realize is that you were sitting on the floor, back to the door, listening to his every word. But you can't bring yourself to open it. An hour passes.

On the other side of the door, he's in a similar position, talking about whatever now just to fill the silence. "—and Rin and Sae got into another scuffle apparently. You know, we're gonna celebrate Nagi reaching 20 million, at that one place that has good risotto."

Not a word, again. He sighs, and the scuffling of his feet reaches your ears. "Goodnight, Y/n."

He leaves you alone for the rest of the night.

###EXTRA EPISODE: THE LOOSE LIPS OF NAGI SEISHIRO