#Sometimes I wished I had more self-control BUT I don’t have that SO!

[adastra121]

Doran the Doomed Harbinger

I redesigned the travelling mage from my Touchstarved Unnamed MC’s backstory!

Pronouns: He/They Birthday: December 21 Height: 173 cm (5’8) Personality: Troublesome Contrarian Likes: Dancing, poetry, sweets, really bad erotica (the cringier the better), puzzles, animals that tend to disgust or frighten people Dislikes: Coconut, dogs (he has severe cynophobia from their traumatic experience with a hellhound), rules, boredom, tight clothing Fatal flaw: Lacks a sense of self which makes them turn to external influences for direction Other: Enjoys his tea with a startling amount of sugar. So yeah, they drink slightly tea-flavoured sugar every morning. With the occasional splash of milk. Quote: “We are vessels of unimaginable power, made to be forever contained — molded — into whatever the world says we should be…haven’t you ever wished to let go?”

More about them below:

Doran was a magic prodigy, born gifted and powerful and unfortunately for them, that caught the Senobium’s attention.

When Doran was young, he was attacked by a hellhound. He used his magic intending to kill it, but being an untrained magical powerhouse, he ended up absorbing the creature’s heart instead.

Now they’re a walking bomb. A roaring firestorm lives inside of them and they are being burned alive every waking moment. They keep it under wraps with their magic. They’ve become so practised with restraining the hellfire inside of him that it’s become as natural as breathing to them. He does it subconsciously. Unconsciously.

For most of his life, he had trained under the Senobium to be their perfect mage. He did anything they asked of him, even if the tasks they gave him were dangerous or cruel. He took pride in them, even found humour in the cruelty where most others would only find horror. But he understood, even as a child, that the Senobium was in control — although he played the part of their puppet well, if he ever stepped out of line, they would destroy him.

With the hellfire burning inside them and the Senobium’s control, all they’ve ever known is restraint. Eventually, they had enough of the Senobium’s influence over their life and fled Eridia.

For a while, he travelled around the world, searching for a new purpose after leaving the Senobium. He worked as a magic mercenary, providing magical assistance to anyone that paid — sometimes to those who didn’t, if the mood struck.

He tries their hand at being a hero for a while due to being bored. They’ve never felt the automatic urge to be heroic out of the goodness of their heart, but after leaving the Senobium, he didn’t really have much else to do, and they couldn’t find a good reason not to.

His moral code is whatever they find more interesting at the moment.

“I don’t understand. Why would you risk your life for a bunch of strangers?” *shrug* “Why not?”

Also, villain types are genuinely so much more fun to piss off. Because you get the sense that they’ve already passed the point of no return, and once you pass that certain threshold, you lose much of your restraint. And that makes for interesting adversaries and interesting fights.

…You can kind of see how they wound up half-dead when Luneth found them.

Luneth views them as a mess of contradictions. They are as sincere as they are mysterious. As considerate as they are selfish. As kind as they are cruel. Nihilistic as optimistic. With an open heart and innumerable secrets behind their smile. The one thing about them that makes sense? They are lost. And they are wandering the world, searching for their destiny, even as they claim they don’t believe in it.

Doran is a curious spirit. He loves to question everything. Especially if it results in annoying someone.

They enjoy and collect puzzle toys. They especially like the puzzle boxes which you need to solve in order to open. They gifted one of their favourites to Luneth during their time together.

You know the manic pixie dream girl trope? He’s a manic demon nightmare guy — I don’t know how else to describe a character who self-ascribes the role of the inciting incident for someone else’s journey of growth and decides to incite the incident by any means necessary.

They have a soft spot for “creepy” or “scary” animals like bats, rats, snakes, spiders, bugs, and deep-sea marine animals. Barreleye fish, my beloved.

They wandered without purpose for most of their life. They found their purpose in Luneth. He sees themself in her, but more than that, he sees her potential to be greater than him, than her temple, fate, destiny, all of it. They finally understand faith for having known her. 

Zodiac sign is Sagittarius

MBTI type is ENTP

Enneagram is 5w4

Like Luneth, this character was inspired by a song I was listening to. Doran’s is “Arsonist’s Lullaby” by Hozier.

I think another character theme of theirs could be “Dance Monkey” by Tones and I.

And here's their full character redesign!

[reidrum]

good night moon | s.r

A/N: hi again ! this one is deeply self indulgent i fear but who cares i hope you like it as much as i do <3 ps let me know what kinda fics i should write next !!

cw: spencer reid x bau!reader, cm type violence, reader is afab but this only is referred to when mentioning reader is a daughter, sad thoughts, hurt/comfort, talks about nightmares, spencer just wants to take care you gdm it why won’t you let him

wc: 2.4k

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trudging up the stairs of the bullpen, you tried your best to use whatever sense you had left to beeline to the kitchen to make another cup of coffee. thank god the bau had minimal reflective surfaces because you’re sure you look like the evil old lady from snow white. that was just, your opinion of course. to everyone else you looked fine.

fine was so subjective. what did these fuckers know about being fine? they weren’t the ones on the mission. they don’t know what you saw, how you did nothing, how you couldn’t do anything.

“FBI hands up!” you yell holding your gun and flashlight at the unsub. he’s holding the victim at knifepoint, a twelve year old girl who reminded you too much of yourself.

this unsub’s MO was kidnapping eldest daughters of families that had sons as well, because he believed the son should be the eldest child with the most responsibility and that the daughters were only there to create more babies. the team had deduced that he was the youngest child to an older sister who he felt had too much control over him, combined with his fascination with the perfect nuclear family, it slowly turned him into a sociopathic killer.

“come any closer and i’ll slit her throat!” the unsub bellowed, getting dangerously close to her carotid artery.

“you don’t wanna do that, man,” derek says behind you, “just put the knife down and we can talk.”

“there’s nothing left to talk anymore! i’m already going to prison. there’s no point.”

you called out the unsub’s name, “i know how you’re feeling, i have a younger brother too and he feels the same way you do sometimes. what your sister did to you was not okay, but not all sisters are like that. we just want to care for our family. let them have the chance to be the big sister you wished for.”

the unsub seemed to contemplate your words for a minute, then looks up at you with eyes devoid of any light, “then this one is dedicated to you, agent.” and he drags the knife across her neck leaving waterfalls of blood coming out.

you’re not really sure what happened next. a gun went off, presumably derek’s, to kill the unsub. and then it was you screaming as you rushed to the young girl to try and stop her bleeding, but it was no use. the cut was deep enough to nick that damn carotid and all you could do was hold her in her last moments.

“te- tell my family i love them, and that i’m sorry.” the young girl spurts out so softly you almost didn’t hear it.

“no sweet girl, don’t be sorry,” you say through hiccuped cries, “i’m sorry i couldn’t save you.”

the last thing you remember was feeling strong hands carrying you out of the building. you couldn’t hear much, the sound of your wails pretty much masked anything in a five mile radius. you could taste the iron lingering in your mouth from biting your lip too hard and desperately collecting the salty tears and sweat trickling down your face. at first you smelled smoke and dust, most likely from being in the cave where the unsub was. but as you were being dragged away from the crime scene you were influxxed with a musky scent, and a hint of vanilla with that fresh laundry smell. spencer. the last thing you see are his worried little brown eyes staring down at you before everything goes dark.

that was monday. it is now thursday. the case had wrapped up, the unsub was dead the families were notified and now you all were in the office doing your paperwork for the case.

and all of you were doing fine, right? everyone else had already coped and processed the case, already stepping back into their normal life routines. but you, you couldn’t have it that easy, but god you wish you did.

since that day, you’d been holing up in your apartment with all the lights turned on. you sat in your living room, eating a bowl of fruit loops and watching bluey, because listen it’s a great show and we should acknowledge it. you cry out loud seeing bluey care for her little sister bingo, and it brings you back to that dusty cave and the bloodied hands.

you could feel sleep creeping up on you, yet you subconsciously found a way to push bedtime by doing menial tasks like cleaning, extra long skincare, watching a movie. when you ran out of things to do, you entered your room and just stared at your bed. how were you supposed to admit to yourself that the horror isn’t in the movie you just watched where the creepy demons kill everyone, but it’s what is waiting for you behind closed eyelids.

so the only logical solution was to just, not sleep. you whipped out every trick in the book to stay awake for as long as you could— energy drinks, coffee, splashing cold water, anything so you wouldn’t have to reface your plagued memories.

spencer observed you from a distance. he watched as you got coffee a whopping three times before 10am, you picking at your skin, not to mention the bags growing under your eyes. it was then he formed a hypothesis, he was a scientist after all. that you simply were not sleeping because of the case. it was much less a hypothesis and more of a fact because he knew exactly what it was upon first sight of you, hell he invented the sleep avoidance look.

and as the inventor it meant he knew the feeling more intimately than he would like to admit. spencer knew what it felt like to be debilitated by the confines of your brain, holding onto shreds of memories you know are not worth remembering but have somehow marked their territory anyway. and everyone coped differently, for spencer he isolated himself for days and then threw himself into work. for you? well, that was the next part of spencer’s experiment.

spencer approaches you in the kitchen as you’re pouring your fourth cup before noon, “hi.”

“hi.”

“how are you? feels like we haven’t talked in a bit.”

“i’m good, sorry i’ve just been. busy.”

spencer frowned internally, he knew you weren’t doing a single thing but working at the office. “are you okay? do you want to talk about last week?”

you cut him off abruptly and start walking out, “i really have to finish these reports spence, talk to you later.”

spencer knew better, he should give you space to cope by yourself. you were an adult, you can take care of yourself. but you shouldn’t have to, he thinks. spencer still tells himself he knows better as he’s waiting on your doorstep that night, about to the rapp the door.

after a minute of no answer he knocks again this time calling your name through the door, “will you let me in please? i want to show you something.”

still nothing. he continues, “i know what you’re feeling, and i want to help, please.”

he almost gives up and turns around when he hears the turn of a lock and slight creek of the door opening to see you in all your beautiful glory.

now you, you were definitely a sight for sore eyes. avengers pj shorts with a baggy uni t shirt, hair flying in any direction, and a look that spencer could only describe as grief. but god if you weren’t the most beautiful human he’d seen in his life, he’d be lying.

you were coming up on day 3? or was it 4? of no sleep. it’s not like you were not sleeping at all you took little 30 minute naps each day, enough to get you some shut eye but not enough to make it your rem stage of sleep.

spencer speaks again, “can i come in?” you nod silently and open the door wider for him to step in. he removes his shoes and it’s then you notice a big ole tote bag he’s lugging to your living room.

“what’s in the bag?”

“ah, come sit. i brought magical things.” he smiles playfully.

you shuffle over to sit a seat’s cushion away from him and watch as he starts pulling item by item from his mary poppins bag.

candles, essential oils, books, but specifically romance novels with the silly cartoon covers that he swears aren’t real books but you argue with him until he concedes, melatonin gummies, pillow sleep spray, and one more item that he’s holding onto for what seems to be dramatic effect. you’re not amused.

“and the piece de resistance,” he presents the last item, and you look confused for a second, until you recognize the item in front of you and immediately start tearing up. in his hands is a grogu weighted stuffed animal that he holds out for you to take. “i know you’re not sleeping. it happened to me when, you know. i figured it would be helpful if you had someone who could empathize how you’re feeling. and because you’re my best friend and i care about you.”

your bottom lip trembles, and you feel the ice block you’ve kept yourself in this past week start to melt uncontrollably. “spence…” you breathe out so quietly. he did all this? for you? doctor spencer reid went out to the store, and bought a grogu stuffed animal for you to cuddle at night to ease your loneliness?

the concept of being taken care of was so foreign to you, as the eldest daughter in your family it was always you taking care of others and making sure everyone was okay. but rarely did anyone check on you, how you were holding up. and you had learned to cope by yourself, to handle the big emotions by yourself, but for once, someone was willing to take all that weight off your shoulders and let you breathe. and god, did it feel so cathartic you could burst out in sobs.

so you did.

“hey,” he says scooting closer to you so he can scoop you into his chest, “was that a lot? penelope said i’d probably overwhelm you but all of the things i brought are scientifically proven sleep additives-“

“no i just, that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” you whimper.

spencer’s eyes soften, “you deserve it. what happened last week… was hard. i just wanted to help.”

“thank you,” he hears a muffled response and rubs his hands affectionately down your back, “damn, all this crying is making me so tired.”

“see! the magic of the poppins bag.” he chuckles. you laugh too. spencer thinks all the flowers in a mile radius just bloomed.

“it’s just,” you start out, nuzzling into his chest deeper, “the second i close my eyes and dream, i see her. and how i couldn’t save her. and how the others i couldn’t save either.” you feel your chest seizing up again.

“okay well hey, hey. you did what you were trained to do. any other agent in your position would’ve tried talking him down the way you did. and your personal story gave you an advantage that no one else would’ve had. statistically speaking, you were the best chance at getting through to him. yeah it didn’t work, but it wouldn’t be probability if it always worked,” he cradles your face in his big hands, “we’re all so proud of you, you know. rossi’s waiting for you to be back on your feet so he can host pasta night at his hou- sorry his mansion again.”

spencer looks down at you properly to your tear stained cheeks and brushes your hair back. he sees the pain and tiredness fighting behind your eyes and asks softly, “what do you need right now?”

“i’m tired.” you lament.

“then lets go sleep.”

“i can’t.”

“why not?”

“im scared.”

“well that’s why i brought the stuff silly goose,” he taps your nose, “come on, let’s go set it up.”

spencer brings all the sleep aids to your room and sets them up appropriately, even plugging in your sunrise lamp to help with the ambient lighting. the only thing left to do is for you to get into your bed.

you both stand on opposite sides of your bed, and he’s waiting for you to get in so can tuck you in. you hesitate and look up at him with the same worried eyes he saw all those days ago.

“could you stay for bit?”

“i can stay for some time if you want” you both speak at the same time. you giggle again, spencer thinks an angel got its wings.

thank god he wore sweats and a comfy t shirt he thinks. he slid in under the blanket and holds it open for you to come in, “come on, you’re missing the cuddle party with grogu and i!” you beam widely and finally sink into your bed.

spencer pulls you into his chest, wrapping an arm around your shoulder blade, and the other taking a spot on your hip rubbing soft circles. you lay your head to rest on his chest, right above his beating heart. you try to let the metronomic thumps lull you to sleep, but spencer can still feel your eyelashes fluttering about on his chest. he knows what you’re thinking, because of course he does.

“look at me,” he nudges you, you look up at his eyes again and see nothing but pure love and reassurance as he continues, “you are safe. nothing can hurt you. i promise.”

“are you sure?” you let out meekly,

“i’m sure. it’s okay, go to sleep,” he presses a gentle kiss to the crown of your forehead. “i’ll be here when you wake up.”

you shakily take a deep breath, and close your eyes.

after five minutes of spencer rubbing shapes into your back, he can finally hear the soft snores coming from below. he places another kiss on your head, whispers, “good night angel girl,” and doses off.

you wake up the next morning feeling so rested and relieved you can’t help but give spencer a big hug that wakes him up. spencer thinks he’d be the luckiest man in the universe if he could wake up like this everyday.

[ggumjjun]

kai definitely has a high sex drive !! i agree with u on that 😯!! wish people wrote more for him

# huening kai + too needy !!

heh now who doesn’t wanna write abt a cute boy w a huge dick n a high sex drive ?

(nsfw + minors dni ! f!reader, kai has a big dick n a big sex drive lol, needy kai, pervert kai, morning after, creampie kink, mention of bulge kink, unprotected sex, slight dumbification kink)

haah—fuck, kai moans, burying his face in his pillow, muffling his heavy breathing,,, one hand down his sweats n he’s still so hard even w a mess of his release all over his boxers n fingers, angry flushed tip of his cock drooling cum. he’s so fucked,,, too shy to ask for sex, too needy to handle it himself,,, and kai curses himself, god, why’d he wake up feeling hard again,,, to him, an unfortunate issue of having a high sex drive.

a bit of your cleaveage, hint of ass, pretty curves, and he’s a goner, wet dreams and morning wood for kai,,, which wasn’t that big of an issue when he lived alone, but hes fucked now that he’s painfully hard and only inches away from your pretty body,,, and god, he’d feel so embarrassed to admit he’s hard again even though he’d had you to himself all last night.

groaning softly into his pillow, resisting every urge to turn around,,, because once he does, he’s done for. your pretty, bare shoulder peeking out from beneath the sheets, a dark hickey of his on column of your neck, the memory of sticky mess he left between your thighs—he can’t! clumsy as ever though,, can’t really get out of bed without making a shuffling mess of himself~

kai? you mumble sleepily, awoken by the rustling of the sheets, where are you… going? and he’s a goner at the sight of your pretty self peeking up at him, crawling back into bed n tugging the sheet away. fuck, ‘m sorry, kai moans, burying his face between the crook of your shoulder as he sloppily ruts against your thigh, ‘m so hard, wanna feel you so bad,,, n who has the heart to deny such a cute pervert,,,

ah—! k-kai, too fast! you whimper, feeling his big hand rub the soft expanse of your tummy, feeling his bulge nestled in your cute, creamed cunt. god, f-fuck, kai moans, hips slamming to yours roughly, feels so good, tight cunt clenching down on his thick cock, all swollen from his rough, sloppiness from the night before, white cum painting your thighs as kai fucks your cute pussy hard, unable to control himself. grabbing your legs n wrapping them around his waist n being so mean, not because he wants to but because he can’t help it,,, drive him so crazy, don’t you~? kai’s sex drive sometimes is too much, isn’t it,,, when he’s fucking you dumb n drooling on his cock, sheets spilling to the floor n bruises on your hips as he moans n buries his length in your pretty, warm, perfect pussy, can’t stop himself, can’t help himself, can’t think of anything but your pretty body n cute cries n warm cunt n how perfect it all is for him <3

n sloppy, messy, perverted kai who can’t stop until he’s filled you up with his cum n made a mess everywhere, bare skin glistening with swear as he moans and pulls out to his sticky, creamy cum seeping out after, swollen cunt can’t keep it all in,,, but he’s clingy after sex, his big body draped over yours and touchy as he rubs your skin comfortingly, all worn out n feeling lovey~ ‘m sorry, can’t help it, kai mumbles,,, after all, his pervert mind always wants more n more <3

[meo-on-prairie]

Deserve Better

Prompt: After a shitty breakup, involving a douchebag of an ex, who makes you realize he never loved you to begin with. You went to your best friends for comfort, but instead of telling you “you deserve better”, they show you the best you deserve. 

Word count: 1786

Tags: FLUFF, a tablespoon of Angst, hurt and comfort, Gojo and Getou being sweetest boys, satosugu established, satorugu x reader not yet, mention of: manipulation and love bombing.

Rambling: This is an extremely self-indulgence fic, heavily inspired by my shitty ex lmao. I just wanna be sandwich between Gojo and Getou to comfort my angry heart :((. This is a mini series, I wanna able to make this series to be compose of a bunch of stand-alone fics that merge together. This is my first time writing after a long while so… 

//////

“He was a pathetic liar!” you shout as soon as Suguru opens the door. Tears are streaming down your faces and you can’t seem to make them stop. The sight of your face full of anger and sorrow quite nearly broke Suguru’s heart. Oh, how he wished he could erase your pain. Not make your pain go away, no, he wanted to erase it from your life completely.

Satoru walks toward the door after hearing the loud commotion, “what did he do this time?” he said knowing exactly who was responsible for your tears. With all honesty, Satoru is only asking for your sake, if he could have it his way, violence is always the answer.

Satoru and Suguru are used to this, it’s been 2 years of this clockwork. Ever Since you start dating your pathetic boyfriend, Anthon, it been a cycle of you venting to them about your relationship problem, them telling you to break up with the fucker, and you “work it out” with the douchebag, who can only tell lies and empty promises, the next day and all is good for about 1 month. It’s the same cycle of them clearly seeing that you are being manipulated, yet unable to do anything. But then again, what can they do? They’re only your friends, nothing more even if they want to be more, and as friends, the only thing they can do is be there for you.

Anthon was your first love, your glasses were not tinted, it was dyed rose-pink. You loved him with everything you got, always there to support him mentally, emotionally, and even sometimes financially. In return, he would love-bomb you with constant, nonstop, overly cheesy affectionate words. He also made a lot of promises to you: of marriage, of spoiling you, of being a better man for you, of being faithful to you; all of which are empty and meaningless in hindsight. They’re so meaningless in fact that it led you to break-up with him 2 weeks ago.

You were tired of his empty words, so you laid down your boundary, you told him you would never want to marry someone who refuses to find a job to support themselves. His answer? “Why can’t you be nicer about these things? Your words cut deep”. Anthon was a man of nothing, he had nothing but his words, and even then he couldn't even keep them. But you loved him, so you put it all aside, all his actions, all his shortcomings, his unwillingness to change for himself; you put it all aside and waited with baited breath, surely, surely…. Surely he’ll do as he said. He never did. 

“Come in first, the night is cold, I don’t want you to get sick” Suguru ushers you through the door and into their apartment. As Suguru guided you toward their living room, Satoru went into the kitchen to grab some tissues, water, and something for you to eat your feelings away. 

As soon as your body touched the soft velvet material of their couch, you crumbled into Suguru’s arms. He pulls you in closer to his body as yours shakes and heaves, you two sit like that for what feels like an eternity as you let the tears that carry your pain and sorrows fall from your eyes. Your hands balls up Suguru’s shirt as you cry in his embrace, you try to control your sob but it only makes your body shakes harder, almost hyperventilating.

“Shhhh, take your time, let it out. I’m here… we’re here… we’re not goin’ anywhere”

“He said he loves me! He said he wanted to marry me! And not even 2 weeks after our breakup, he’s getting his dick wet and telling another girl he loves her!” you choked out in anguish, still in denial that any of this is real.

“How did you find out about that?” Satoru asked, carrying a tray full of food; after hearing your sobs, he decided that a few snacks wasn’t going to cut it. 

“Because the fucker doesn’t even have the decency to keep it private, he been posting her all over his social media!” you swipe out your phone in frustration, pulling up Anthon’s account to show your two best friends the picture of your ex and the girl sitting on his lap, kissing. 

They both make a face when you show them the picture, “gross” they said in unison as Satoru places the tray on the table and sits down on your other side.

“I’m just so angry, I can’t believe I wasted 2 years loving someone who never was truthful to me! How can I be so stupid?” your tears are boiling hot, they feel like acid on your skin.

“Hey, hey, look at me, you’re not stupid for simply loving someone.” Satoru cups your face with his hands, nudging you to face him, his thumbs gently wiping away your tears. You close your eyes and feel the warmth of his hands. It’s comforting to be held so gently.

“That’s right, don’t shame yourself for being strong enough to love someone with all you got. That’s a strength, not a weakness.” Suguru agrees, pulling a couple of tissues from the box and handing it to you. 

You take the tissues from him to wipe away the tears and blow your nose, it was getting a little hard to breathe from crying, “Thank you… It just hurt realizing that even though I loved him, he never loved me; at least, I don’t think someone who loves me would go out of their way to hurt me like this. Him posting her and rubbing it in my face not even 2 weeks later makes me feel like… I just wasn't worth loving…”

“You’re right, someone that loves you wouldn’t hurt you like he did. But that doesn’t mean you’re unlovable. To us, you’re worth all the love this world has to offer…” Suguru whispers, placing his hand on your shoulder, and he means it. God, does he mean it. Satoru can see it in his partner’s eyes, the same feelings he has.

Satoru and Suguru have loved each other deeply since they were kids, but they always feel something is missing in their relationship. When you walt into their life when they were 15 through the door call “physic group project”, they thought something was wrong with them. They still very clearly love each other, their love is still burning, but their hearts forget how to beat when you smile at them.

How can they not fall for you? You’re kind, so kind you would push aside your shyness and discomfort to help those that need it. You’re intelligent, you quite literally carried them through that physics group project. And dear god, the way you just fit perfectly into their dynamic makes them realize very quickly that they desperately want you to be a part of their life. So desperately, they couldn’t bring themselves to tell you about their feelings in fear of scaring you away from them forever.

“Tell you what? Let’s watch some true crime documentary that you like so much since you’re secretly a sociopath, maybe they’ll give you the inspiration of what to do for revenge?” Satoru said with a smirk.

“If inspiration striked you, we’ll be your executioners.” Suguru added, smiling in relief seeing that you're feeling better after letting it all out. You let out a small giggle and nod. 

Satoru turns on the TV and searches for “Unsolved” while Suguru goes to grab the three of you a blanket. When Suguru comes back with the blanket, you get comfortable cuddling between the two of them on the couch. Between Satoru’s jokes about how if he was the detective case wouldn’t have gone cold, and Suguru’s soft chuckles of ‘sure babe’ at his boyfriend’s comment,you start to feel a lot better. 

You have always felt the most at home with them. It felt natural to be with them, Satoru’s humor brings laughter into your day, Suguru’s gentleness makes you feel safe. They ground you. You’re starting to wonder why you were even with the dirtbag when you have best friends who show you how you should be treated. But before you can think more on that, drowsiness takes over you.

It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep. With how hard you were crying and the emotional turmoil you experienced, it would be more surprising if you stayed awake. Satoru looks over to the sight of your sleeping face. He squeezed Suguru’s hand he been holding behind you on the headrest of the couch.

Suguru looks over at Satoru and notices where his gaze was directed at. “I don’t want to see her like that again. She deserves all the sunshines life has got to offer, not heartbreak” Satoru whispered softly. 

“Do… you think⸻” Suguru started

“Yeah.” 

It’s a silent agreement between them. They’re done with watching you on the sideline. They’re done with seeing you in pain. They don’t want to be afraid of losing you anymore if it means they have to leave your happiness in the hands of some other dudes that’s not them. In the hands of someone that doesn’t know how to cherish it like they do. 

Suguru gives Satoru’s hand 3 long squeezes, I love you. A soft and silent affection flows between them. You always joke that they’re each other's twin flames due to how they seem to be sharing the same soul; their ideology, way of thinking, even how they feel. They’re so similar despite different personalities it’s uncanny. But they think that if they’re each other’s twin flame, then you would be their soulmate. 

They let go of each other's hands so Satoru can carry you into their guest’s room. Well, they call it that but the color and decorations they have in it are all catered to your liking, plus no one beside you ever stays the night anyway. 

Suguru opens the door to the room for Satoru. They laid you down and tucked you in. 

Suguru went into the bathroom to get a damp face towel. He softly wipes away your streaks of tears so you can sleep comfortably without feeling the stickiness from your tears. 

They closed the door as quietly as possible so they don’t wake you, not before glancing at you one last time. 

Looking at each other, eyes full of love and determination, they silently vow to each other. They’re going to make you fall, sweep you right off your feet. They’ll treat you like you’re their most prized treasure. You’ll fall for them so hard, you’ll forget you’ve ever loved anyone but them.

[slasherscream]

I love your writing! And you just get my craziness and character obsessions. I was thinking what would happen if reader had a bruise cheek or lip, and refuse to tell them what happen. Then they discover that the reader was the one who beat the shit out of someone for saying something about their partner, and how proud yet pissed off they will be. I’m think Crazy Ass Girls Gang, need more possessive and protective FMC. Thank you!

warnings: yandere behavior - YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

Tiffany Valentine - Tricks you into thinking she’s gonna be normal about it. She purses her lips when you won’t tell her anything, but quietly rushes off to get the first-aid kit. WATCH OUT! You have just activated a trap card: emotional manipulation. Her most powerful weapon. She’ll silently and dotingly take care of you. Disinfectant. Gentle Hands. Careful bandaging. Petulant silence. Painkillers lovingly dropped in your hand. Big sad eyes staring up at you. When you inevitably break and tell her what happened she could melt! She does melt, straight into your arms. You’re gonna be covered in lipstick by the time she’s through with you. Her hero. Don’t worry, she’ll help you clean up… eventually. Later, you’ll have to help her clean up too. It was so romantic of you to fight for her honor…. But she'd never let someone live after they hurt you, silly.

Jordan Li - Won’t drop the line of questioning until you’re damn near ready to fight her too. She hates that you’re hurt. She loves that you wanted to defend her. Jordan gets a lot of criticism, sometimes it seems never ending. The fact that you feel so strongly about protecting her, not because you think she can’t fight her own battles… but because she shouldn’t have to do it all alone? It means a lot. Still, she doesn’t want you getting into fights. Let alone fights over her. It doesn’t matter how badly you hurt the other person. If there are marks on you Jordan is going to go find them for round two. “You like to put hands on people?” Words spoken seconds before disaster (she’s ignoring the fact that you started the fight. Jordan could give a shit about semantics.)

Nancy Downs - Don’t wanna tell her? Cool! Get ready to experience her favorite couple’s activity besides shoplifting: abusing your coven bond to read your mind! Hooray! It will hurt badly. Because Nancy always makes it hurt when you keep her out on purpose, or hide things from her (or when she thinks you’re doing that.) But don’t worry, after she realizes how sweet you really were, she’ll make you feel all better. Cooing over you as much as she ever allows herself to coo. Cleaning your cuts. Healing you with her magic. Trying to ease the fever that always comes whenever she uses your bond in a way she shouldn’t. She thinks you’re the stupidest, sweetest thing. You’re witches. You don’t have to use your fists anymore to win fights. She leaves you with the coven and goes to enact a witch’s vengeance on whoever dared to lay a finger on you. 

Jennifer Check - You’ll try not to tell her but she immediately starts making such wild accusations you have to just come out and admit to why you’re injured. “I can smell someone on you. If you wanted to get beat up to get your rocks off you should’ve just told me, I’d happily beat the shit out of you.” Start talking quickly! She looks like she’s about to start fulfilling that nonexistent wish now. Once you tell her she has to suppress a smile. She’s a demon. She doesn’t need you playing knight in shining armor over what some jealous, mouth-breathing, loser is saying about her… but, it’s kinda hot that you did. She’ll show you just how hot she thinks it is. Then you two are gonna take a nice little drive, and you’re gonna point out the jackass who put bruises on you. She’ll fuck you again after she’s full. “Thanks for finding my next meal, baby.” 

Victoria Neuman - Victoria expects you to have better self control than this. Not telling her what happened isn’t an option. Ever. The look on her face when you first try and insist that nothing happened is enough for you to quietly admit you got into a fight. Her blood pressure sky-rockets. You two have an image to maintain. You’re her spouse. She has enough problems as it is. She’s thinking of viral videos, nightly news, seedy gossip magazines doing think-pieces: do we really want this person standing behind the president as first spouse? When you tell her you fought one of the Boys for trying to convince you she’s a monster? Well…. She goes a little softer. Victoria will pull you into the circle of her arms and thank you for being so loyal to her. She means it from the bottom of her heart. She’s also dreaming of the day she can pop their fucking heads. Touching you. Talking to you. Trying to turn you against her… they’ve crossed her last line. 

Carrie White - The moment she sees you she’s in hysterics: “Oh, Angel, what happened?!” You’re really gonna sit there and not tell her anything? She’s worked herself into an anxiety attack within seconds. She can hardly open the first aid kit, she’s shaking so bad. The sound of your voice is always so soothing for her that you’ll start telling her the story just to have something to say. She listens quietly while she cleans you up. You’ll have to pull her into your lap before long, and kiss her gently. You’re all she has in the world and it scares her to death to think of you putting yourself in unnecessary danger. You’ll fall asleep curled into each other’s arms. You whisper soft reassurances: “Nothing’s gonna happen to me / I’ll always be here.” Carrie tries her best to listen. You’ll wake up alone, but wander downstairs just as Carrie walks through the front door. She wanted to get her knight in shining armor some breakfast from your favorite diner down the street. She watches you eat with a big smile, and thinks about how she’ll have to burn those clothes in the trunk of the car. She couldn't risk them trying to hurt you again.

Ginger Fitzgerald - Don’t piss her off. If you don’t tell her exactly who touched you she’ll rip the entire city apart. Women, children, men, everyone. Anyone. “Do you want me to do that? Huh, baby? Is that what you want me to do?” No? Then start talking. She won’t be able to see through the blood-lust long enough to take care of you. As soon as you say a name Ginger’s out the door. She’ll only return once she’s thoroughly covered in viscera and gore. She’s still dripping with it when she crawls into bed with you, smearing the blood across your body. She’ll lick at any injury you have, until they’re clean and closed, your skin smooth and unblemished. She’s the only thing that can leave marks on you. She’ll kill anything else that tries. “You don’t have to lift a finger for me, baby. If you want someone hurt, I’ll do it. I’ll do anything for you.” Just run your fingers through her hair and try not to cringe as your fingertips get stained red. 

Patricia (Split) - She’s devastated by the state you come home in after she allows you to go out on a walk all by yourself for the first time since you were…. taken. You’d been so good for her. So obedient. So sweet. She wanted to reward you. And now your eye is starting to bruise, and your clothes are all askew, and your knuckles are swollen. Her calm demeanor cracks, and it’s a struggle to stay in the light. She takes deep breaths, centers herself. None of the others are what you need, right now. You need her. She strips you down, runs you a bath, won’t even let you hold the washcloth. It’s only as she’s patting you dry that she can force out words, finally: “What happened to you, sweet thing, hmm?” The guilt nearly brings her to tears. Months of keeping you close and look at what just a pinch of negligence has done to you… You try to assuage her guilt. You tell her you ran into a neighbor, who’d seen the two of you out together once Patricia trusted you enough to accompany her for little things like grocery trips. You say it’s your fault you came back to her in this condition. That you just couldn’t stand the vile things they said about her. Her face drops into an expression you’ve never seen. It’s gone in an instant, replaced by that comforting, ever present smile she wears for you. She takes you by the chin and kisses your forehead: “My little sweet thing. Playing knight, are you?” You had her love before. Tentatively, you had something like trust. Now Patricia trusts you completely. Even so, you won’t be going out alone again. Patricia trusts you. But it’s clear she can’t trust the world to be gentle with you. Don’t worry, though. All you need to do is ask, when you want to feel the sun on your face. You never see that neighbor again, no matter what time of day you and Patricia go walking.

A/N: thank you!!! we need more batshit crazy women with something wrong with them! Batshit crazy women with something wrong with them unite! if you enjoyed these headcanons consider reblogging, leaving a reply, or an anon! a writer's fuel is engagement. Xoxoxo

[ariseur]

SEPHIROTH FIC WITH READER TRYING TO TEACH HIM HOW TO KISS PLSPLSPLSPLSPLS

is this your way of flirting? 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

sephiroth (ffvii) x reader

┊ ˚➶ notes ｡˚ 🎼

this was such a cute request omg you guys rlly love sephiroth 😭

┊ ˚➶ warnings ｡˚ 🎼

mentions of kissing (ew cooties!!), sephiroth and you being enamored with each other except this is more of a friends to lovers kinda thing, intended lowercase, lmk if i missed anything!!

┊ ˚➶ word count ｡˚ 🎼

1197 words, 6601 characters

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

sometimes you think sephiroth was brought upon this world to help you, and your thoughts have never been clearer as you watched him sit in front of you. your eyes traced along the curve of his nose, painted golden with the light of dawn shining on him. his eyes; now aquamarine, especially with the amount of mako running through him, so slender and catlike as they squinted at the sun. sephiroth was ethereal, that was a fact.

it almost felt wrong admiring his features, and a cool sheen of sweat washed over you as his eyes flickered over to yours. as you looked into his eyes, watching as his lashes fluttered with his gaze, you constantly had to remind yourself that he was your friend— and he had asked for your help. nothing more, you thought.

nothing more.

“i apologize for having to call upon you so early, i know you’d typically prefer to sleep in.” he finally said. his words chimed into your brain and interrupted the wistful silence that had been brought upon you two, distant birds and buzzing of insects were suddenly drowned out with sephiroth’s cool tone of voice.

“if you call not waking up at 5am every morning ‘sleeping in’— then yeah, i’d prefer to ‘sleep in’.” you scoffed, your lips twitching to form a small smile at his quiet chuckle. a comfortable silence strung itself between you two, only your sighs filling the air. you took one last glance at sephiroth, your movements pausing as you met his eyes. as per usual, he held that strong stare, except the comforting feeling that came with it was only reserved for you.

you felt guilty, but you couldn’t help but let your eyes trail down from sephiroth’s eyes, to the slope of his nose, and finally to his cool-toned lips. his usual smirk rested on his face, his bottom lip pouting out just the smallest bit as he amusedly gazed at you. it seemed like all of your verbal self control had left your body as you couldn’t stop the words tumbling past your lips, “have you ever kissed someone before, sephiroth?”

and how you wished you could’ve taken back your words the moment they left your lips, wincing inside at his raised brow. his smile never left his face, though— and then he started to laugh. a good, hearty laugh. and your cheeks couldn’t help but heat up.

“what? honestly—!” you said, although you couldn’t even bite back your smile. it was always rare to see him laugh as genuine as he was right now, and whenever he would, it was always contagious.

calming down from his fit of laughter, he shook his head in amusement as he closed his eyes; almost like it was such a silly question. small chuckles still escaped him in the process. “well i suppose, if we’re being honest, i don’t have much experience in the field of romance.”

now it was your turn to quirk a brow as you feigned shock, “the—the sephiroth—has never kissed someone before?”

“i’ve kissed people, before.”

you made an exaggerated ‘hmmm..’ noise as you tapped your chin and looked up, pretending to look so very deep in thought; breaking character when you heard sephiroth scoff. laughing behind your hand, you turned your head back towards the sun and looked out into the horizon— watching as the grass swayed with the soft breeze and the hummingbirds zipped around to their collective plants. your eyes squinted as they adjusted to the golden rays, shining on your skin.

“are you interested in teaching me?” came the cool voice from beside you, immediately making you turn and cock your head at him. narrowing your eyes, you study him carefully. maybe for any signs of a joke, even when the glint in his eyes told a different story.

you laughed out of uncertainty, “is this your way of flirting with me, seph?”

“possibly,” he said, hand snaking itself across the long grass as it grazed your other hand, “perhaps there are more.. kinesthetic— methods in which i can achieve a better understanding of this topic.” you grinned, watching as he mimicked your earlier antics and cocked his head himself.

a few more moments and where were you at now? holding the elite military first class SOLDIER, sephiroth’s face in your hands, maybe not so subtly rubbing their thumb along his skin and relishing in the softness of his cheek. despite being in the field or training all at, sephiroth surprisingly had little to no acne. instead, he maintained this almost glossy skin tone and a healthy bone structure, whether it was all the mako SOLDIERs had or not, he was considerably the most beautiful man you had ever witnessed to walk the planet.

“don’t purse your lips too much, okay? only once you interlock them with mine.” you muttered.

“where do i put my hands?” at this proximity, you could practically taste him against you. another reminder; he was only your friend, you frowned. your brain didn’t know how to feel, this felt so intimate, you didn’t know how to respond to it anymore. but instead, you simply gave him a soft smile. leading his hand towards your waist, you’re reassured that it’s okay once sephiroth gives you a half-smile of his own.

“and this is alright?”

“it’s all with what you’re comfortable with, you’re the one who asked me to teach you, seph.” the way the slew of words flowed so warmly out past your lips and into his ears was sublime to him, his chest couldn’t help but tighten. so sweet, even to what he thought of you as a ‘friend’, paining his heart that you possibly didn’t requite his feelings. but it didn’t matter, this was just more of a reason to get closer to you. sephiroth had a way around kissing, he had managed this far, but seeing you so gentle with him tugged at his heart strings.

it only worsened when you finally leaned in, your eyelashes fluttering as they flickered between his eyes and his lips. but when he finally let his eyes fall shut and your lips against his, it was like his heart was in his throat. it felt oddly comforting, the sounds of nature in the distance as the light of dawn shone on the both of you. it wasn’t anything special, but the slow rhythm of which your lips moved was enough for the both of you.

he pulled away for a moment, smiling at the way you leaned in to chase him for one more kiss. he placed his own hand on your face, tilting your chin up as your eyes blinked open. alas, another smug smile with his words, “eager, are we?”

“as if you weren’t the one flirting with me, first.”

he made a low hum before grabbing a soft hold on your hands and leaning in once more, letting himself drown in the river that is you. he’ll let himself sink in the cool water for as long as he can, savoring the wet droplets that remain on his skin after he’s left— and when he’s alone, all he’ll think of is you.

[bob-artist]

Just found you via your funny dream comic. Good stuff 😆. Definitely gonna read the rest, and I was surprised you had your own website. Looks good on mobile too. I’ve got a comic that some friends keep trying to build me a site for but I’ve been telling them no because it seems like between webtoon and social media nobody is interested in personal sites anymore.

Have you noticed an uptick in engagement from your site? Would you recommend going that route? I’d like to hear your thoughts.

I’m also interested in how you decided to build/host it, if that question isn’t too lame.

Anyway, glad I found your comics!

Ah thank you for checking out Into the Smoke's website!!

Oh, I have SO many thoughts about independent webcomic sites and why people should have them. I have so many thoughts, and I'm so so sorry.

Why did I decide to have my own webcomic site?

First of all, this is not a lame question and I wish we could all have this conversation more often, so I could maybe write just a paragraph instead of this whole dissertation!

1. Because I lived through webcomics history.

I launched my first webcomic in 2011. I watched the webcomics scene shift over the years from self-hosted sites to third party sites, and I saw what it meant for independent creators. We lost vital infrastructure, relationships, habits, and control over our own work. I think self-hosted sites are an important backbone for creators, even if/when their largest *numbers* come from a third party site.

We’re all supposed to be helping each other, not fighting each other to satisfy the algorithm. Our early tools (webrings, link trades, comic databases, sharing each other’s posts) were small but meaningful, and they also helped us maintain a community mindset in a long and sometimes lonely line of work. When we started leaning on hosting sites, we let a lot of those tools and relationships decay. And now a lot of people are locked into imbalanced relationships with hosting sites that leave them with very little agency and control over their work and how it’s shared (or isn’t shared).

Hosting sites are great for removing barriers to entry (cost/time to build a site). And a lot of them have large built-in audiences. But the big ones aren’t run by people who care about creators. They’re designed to extract the maximum value from your work while giving you the least they can get away with. Use them if you want (I do), but don't be dependent on them.

2. Comics are the main thing I do for a living, and a website gives me the tools to promote my work and build relationships with my readers.

Most apps and third party sites actively prevent or suppress these things. On your own site, you can share all the info you want about your upcoming Kickstarter, your tradpub book release, your merch, etc. You can collect email addresses for your newsletter. You can literally just talk about your weekend, and you’re not gonna have a 150-character limit.

Yeah, not everyone wants to read a wall of text (ha ha...), but acting like a person reminds readers to treat you like a person. This is one of my main gripes with the apps and social media - they suppress human connection and present you like a cog in their machine that only exists to churn out free content.

3. I have a consistent home base and full control over how my work is displayed.

I don’t have to fight against an app that’s trying to direct my readers toward whichever content is most profitable for them. On an app, the readers “belong” to them, not you. (Who has their email addresses?) So if I'm putting effort into promoting my comic, I'm promoting my own site. (oh look, I just did it.)

Hosting sites/apps aren't designed to showcase your work. They showcase the app’s collection, and they're designed to keep readers on the app, jumping from creator to creator. This can help readers find you, but it also devalues your work and dilutes its impact.

And the app might not show your work to anyone anyway. Tapas is a great example; they recently redesigned their site to prioritize their Originals, and independent creators are hidden away in a “community” tab with barely any discoverability anymore. This is always the struggle on a third party site.

4. I hate censorship.

Into the Smoke is Teen 16/17+ and Demon of the Underground is R/18+. My comics aren’t even explicit, but I still can’t post my true, uncensored vision for either story on third party apps governed by Apple’s App Store and Visa/Mastercard’s tight content restrictions.

If webcomics exist exclusively on apps with heavy censorship, we’ll never have the diversity of storytelling and freedom of expression that’s necessary for groundbreaking or subversive art to happen. And that’s bad for everyone.

Adult brains need to engage with adult concepts. Difficult and triggering topics need to be explored in creative spaces. Artists need freedom to stretch their creative muscles without falling into the damaging patterns of self-censorship that come from having to tiptoe around arbitrary platform rules.

We can’t let the rules of like 3 American companies dictate what every webcomic reader around the world is allowed to read.

5. An independent website can’t easily be taken away from you.

Just make regular backups! You can always move to a new web host and redirect URLs if needed, and you won't lose your readers. On the other hand, you can easily lose the bulk of your audience on a third party site based on circumstances outside your control.

Let’s talk about Smack Jeeves, a formerly popular webcomic hosting site that was bought out and then shut down, leaving lots of cartoonists homeless. Or we can talk about the Tumblr NSFW purge of 2018, where I lost a huge chunk of my first webcomic’s following and most of my webcomic mutuals, even though my own account stayed within the rules. Or Musk buying Twitter, the platform where I once found my literary agent through a publishing event but now get no traction at all.

Have I noticed an uptick in engagement from my site?

I don’t have analytics on my site yet. But, up until a few days ago, that's where people were reading, thanks to my own efforts and the support of my comics friends and all of y’all who shared my ITS posts. (THANK YOU ALL!) I didn't have any discoverability on Webtoon or Tapas yet.

I got 10-15 new patrons between May 25 and June 5. Up until a few days ago, I even had more ITS newsletter subscribers than Webtoon subscribers.

What happened a few days ago is my Webtoon mirror suddenly blew up with 100+ new subs a day. I don’t know where I’m being featured, but I know I’m only getting those readers because Webtoon suddenly chose to grant me visibility. That can end just as instantly with an algorithm tweak or them deciding not to show my comic anymore. (When my first webcomic was in one of their pay programs in 2018, I went from $300 or $400/month to $0 overnight due to a policy change.) So I’ll enjoy it while it lasts, but I won't de-prioritize my website.

The new Webtoon readers are awesome and supportive, and I’m 100% thrilled to have them. But the Webtoon influx isn't resulting in a Patreon influx like my website launch did. I wouldn't expect it to, this early in the story. But it's consistent with my past experience polling my patrons: even when 50% of my readers came from the apps, 90% of patrons read on my website. (Your audience may vary.) And since I depend on crowdfunding for my comic, that's important to me.

Would I recommend going the route of having your own site?

For anyone who’s just testing the waters with webcomics, it might be overkill.

But for anyone who’s committed to their webcomic, I recommend having your own site AND mirroring on every third party site you can, provided you’re cool with their terms of service. It's important to meet readers where they are. Let those hosting sites lend you their readers. Some readers will even want to visit your home site where they can read ahead, read the uncensored version of your comic, get more info, or sign up for your newsletter.

Just remember, no one will discover your independent website all on their own. They’ll only find it through the work you put into promotion. But the reader that cares enough to come to your home site is a special type of reader.

So how do you get readers to visit an independent webcomic site?

Find your allies

These are people who work in similar areas as you who want to help you succeed, and whom you want to help succeed. Chat with each other, help each other, promote each other, boost each other, link to each other (psst, my links page just went live!), be there for each other - behind the scenes and in public.

God, I am SO bad at approaching people, but this is important, and not just for comics.

Be part of a community

Really, this is an extension of the above point. It's easier to find your allies if you're part of a community.

I’m a member of the Cartoonist Cooperative, and they’re a GREAT group of talented people all across the comics industry. The mission of @cartoonistcoop is to help create better conditions for comic workers through cooperation and collective action, and I’ve found so much help from them with Into the Smoke and comics as a whole. (JOIN! They're great!!)

The goal of the co-op isn't to drive traffic to your website. But being part of it has helped me at every level of crafting my comic, including promoting it and making it good enough that I can take pride in promoting it. And it's helped me ground myself as part of a community after I lost so much of mine in past years of burnout and platform enshittification.

Another option: @spiderforestcomics is a great webcomic collective full of supportive creators, and I believe they’re open to submissions till the end of June! They also have an awesome collaborative community mindset, and I've known some of their members for years.

Direct readers to your RSS feed and newsletter

Getting readers to your website is great, but they need to keep coming back for future updates, and it’s hard to remind them without an app notification. You may need to teach younger readers what RSS feeds are. Inoreader is a great RSS reader for the 2024 era.

The dreaded SEO

That’s Search Engine Optimization - optimizing your website so that people can easily find your comic via search engines. That’s a topic for another day, but feel free to research it!

Paid promo

This can be tricky, and I really only recommend spending promo money if you’re making a comic on a professional basis, because then it’s an investment you'll make back.

That said, Comicad.net is a great independent site where you can buy banner slots on other creators’ sites. I just ran small campaign myself. (And no, I won’t ever be offended if you outbid me!)

I haven’t bought any Tumblr Blaze slots, but I got BOPPed (blaze other people’s posts; apparently that’s what it’s called, lol) once on this account and once on a side blog, and both were highly impactful. (Thanks, friend!!) So I consider it a solid option, and it looks really cheap compared to other social media sites. (Never trust Meta.)

And where can you learn more about building a webcomic site?

I know you didn't ask, but if I'm gonna share all this, I might as well give folks a starting place to actually do the thing.

Now, I’m *bad* at offering cheap and easy web solutions. My specialty is hard and expensive. But my one piece of advice: PLEASE make your webcomic site mobile friendly for the current generation of readers! When we talk about barriers to entry, remember that more people have phones than computers, and many can't afford computers.

Anyway, here's some webcomic website resources from OTHER people!

The Cartoonist Co-op has LOTS of great resources on building webcomic sites! Several of them! Check them all out!

@screentonescast has a podcast episode on webcomic web design and one on RSS feeds!

@jeypawlik also has a great comic about how RSS feeds work.

So, congrats if you made it this far. Go make a website, y'all! And if you read any indie comics, go visit the creator's website!

[mytaiyakeylover]

scary stares.

synopsis: his gaze is penetrating, like that of a predator ready to pounce on its prey, and you can't help but wonder at what point you managed to anger the gang leader.

pairing: mikey x gn!reader

a/n: i don’t even know how my sleep deprived brain came up with this. was watching some random horror movie at 3 am yesterday and this is what happened😳 part 2?

warnings: just the reader freaking out and mikey being his usual oblivious self. guess some hints of angst too. reader misunderstands mikey, which isn’t that weird.

word count: 1.3k

series masterlist | previous | next

It’s unnerving. The way he keeps staring at you. Black, abyssal eyes penetrate your soul, making you feel exposed — naked even. You don’t know what he wants — what he’s expecting from you.

You feel small under his gaze; like a mouse. It doesn’t seem to bother him whatsoever, dead eyes simply watching you from the other side of the classroom, not paying any mind to what the teacher is saying. Usually you would have at least tried to pay attention — which you are — but the blond boy sitting at the back of the classroom is staring so intently, you can practically feel his eyes lingering on your vulnerable figure.

He doesn’t break eye contact when you look in his direction, and you find yourself shrinking. Perhaps you’re overreacting. One of your friends had once told you that he probably likes you, but you’re not too sure. Not when he keeps looking at you in a similar way that a predator watches its prey. You rake through your brain, trying to remember at what exact instance you had managed to anger the gang leader, but find none.

It’s quite hard to pinpoint what exactly you must have done however, as neither of you had even as much as exchanged one word with each other. The teacher doesn’t make things easier for you as he starts putting students into groups for some project. By some miracle you and Sano just happen to get into the same one. But you try not to show the relief you feel when his tall friend — Ryuguji — also joins you.

They may be friends, but even you were observant enough to notice that the short boy was less intimidating with him. That Ryuguji more or less, had at least some control over the commander. It was also common knowledge that between the both, the taller one was always the more reserved and collected one.

“…So, uh,” you start, rubbing the back of your head sheepishly. “What exactly were we supposed to do?” You ask tentatively, still feeling quite intimidated by the shorter boy. Ryuguji lets out a barely audible sigh, but then smiles. You think he must be sensing your unease and is trying to make you feel more comfortable.

“Guess somebody must have zoned out, huh,” he states, a teasing smirk appearing on his lips, which urged you to let out an embarrassed laugh. “Guess so,” you mumble, smiling faintly as a soft pink hue dusts your cheeks.

The other boy doesn’t say anything, eyes vacant as he seems to be deep in thought. You’re not too sure of what he’s thinking about, but there is something in your gut telling you that you want to know. Still, the question remains unspoken, letting curiosity simply continue to eat at your sanity. Bits by bits; like a parasite.

It has always been a bad habit of yours. Sometimes you wish you had more courage. More courage to speak your thoughts. Perhaps then you wouldn’t have been here right now, feeling like this — so helpless and lonely. It's not that you don't enjoy being alone; in fact, you love it. However, there have always been moments when you wish you had done things differently.

You know you should ask. Should ask why he’s been staring at you for so long — in such a way. To clear things up. To save yourself from the growing anxiety. To protect your sanity.

Then someone clears their throat. It’s Ryuguji. You guess he must have noticed the tension between you and his friend. Sano still doesn't make any acknowledgment of either of you, and you can hear the dragon-tattooed boy sigh from your right.

“There is nothing much, we’re just supposed to answer these questions and then discuss them,” the tall boy explains, losing any hope he may have had previously for his commander. You can practically sense it by the apparent vein that has popped out above his right eyebrow.

A barely audible, “Oh,” leaves your lips at his words. Then you sit down, doing your best to avoid making eye contact with the other boy. He’s still staring, and you're not quite sure what to make out of it. A part of you hoped that it would at least be easier for you to understand what that gaze means. Unfortunately, instead of making things clearer, it only seems to confuse you further.

The closeness isn’t helping in the slightest, despite the desk separating the both of you. If anything, it only makes you more nervous. You try to break the tension by asking him questions here and there, whenever you get to a new question that you need to discuss. Sano never answers you however — never says anything at all, in fact, and Ryuguji looks truly fed up with his behavior.

Time passes. Ryuguji is speaking, but you only seem to hear the ticking of the clock, so all you do is nod. Nodding at him with a polite — and perhaps slightly awkward — smile whenever you catch his lips moving. Heart beating erratically in your rib cage as the oh so familiar irrational sense of fear and dread envelopes your senses.

The feeling leaves you confused as you had never experienced such emotions without any apparent reason. Communication was never a problem for you before. Despite occasionally overthinking things, it had never occurred unless it was due to something you had said that was foolish or poorly thought out. Your friends would sometimes tease you, claiming that you paid too much attention to trivial matters.

“(L/n)-san,” you hear Ryuguji’s voice calling out for you, pulling you out from your thoughts. His eyebrows are furrowed, a look of concern plastering his face. “Are you okay?”

Your eyes widen as you rush to come up with a response. "Of course," you say, realizing you had zoned out. The boy arches an eyebrow in response, dismissing your later stuttered apology with a wave.

A lump forms in your throat as you catch the pair of onyxes still very much concentrated on you. Your cheeks flare up at their intense look, but try not to acknowledge that fact. Instead you simply turn around, and continue on with the questions.

Minutes pass by and you feel cold sweaty trailing down your neck as they remain fixated on you. You try to form a coherent sentence whenever Ryuguji is asking you something, but they only come out as a stuttered mess. The boy is considerate enough to not comment on it however.

You feel a wave of relief flooding your system as the bell rings and the teacher announces the end of the lesson. However, it's only when your feet step out of the classroom that the feeling fully registers in your brain. Even then, you fail to notice the forgotten notebook on your former group member's desk.

Draken sweatdrops at how quickly you bolted out of the classroom, noticing the notebook you had accidentally left behind. He feels slightly guilty for the obvious discomfort you were displaying, fully aware that Mikey's weird demeanor must have caught you off guard. The short boy did look kind of creepy throughout the entire lesson.

He sighs, about to stand up and try to catch up to you, but a familiar voice stops him in his tracks. “Hey, Ken-chin?” There is a slightly dreamy lilt to it, and the addressed boy feels his brain short-circuit. He can’t help it, he’s never heard his friend speak in such a manner, like…ever.

“Don’t you think (Y/n)-chan is pretty?”

[idkwhyimhere5462]

So if anyone here has talked to me for more than 10 seconds (which I don’t think anyone has), you would know I’m OBSESSED with the “Never Meet Your Heroes” troupe. Because of my obsession, I love Arin living and training under the Ninja. Like, this guy’s been a fan of the Ninja for years, he’s spent years attempting their main move, he knows tons about them, his goal before training under them was to build a monastery to replicate them. The problem is, the Ninja were only celebrities for a very short time and aren’t really in the public eye. I imagine they’re very private considering that anything could possible be used against them.

With very little Arin has of their personal lives and personalities, he pieces them together. He imagines them to be flawless and puts them up on a pedestal, as everyone does with people they can see but never meet. He sees Kai as confident and cocky, Lloyd as in control and fearless, Nya as calm and collected, Jay as someone who just laughs in the face of danger, Cole as serious and solid, and he probably sees Zane as just an emotionless robot (we sees that’s the general public’s view on him in the Zane Day episode and Arin probably shared it).

He finally meets them and realizes they’re not all he imagined. Kai’s self-worth is below the floor and he had his other… problem (I’m an alcoholic Kai headcannoner, what you gonna do?), Lloyd had no idea what to do half the time, Nya’s closed off and is terrible at being bad at things, Jay has tons of anxiety and basically hates himself, Cole is riddled with self-doubt, and Zane’s all sorts of messed up (you can refer to almost any Zane post of mine for that one). He’s finds himself almost disappointed. He knows he shouldn’t be, these are people after all, people have problems. He’s having the time of his life training and learning how to be a ninja, but sometimes, in the back of his mind, he wishes he never met them so he could still see them as his flawless heroes.

[outsideratheart]

A/N: I know it’s been a while since I posted the first snippet of this fic but I’ve been struggling with writer’s block which is think is just about gone.

To apologise here is another little part of it.

“Alexia, that is enough!” Lucy slams her fist on the locker before turning to her captain “She has come to this team and done nothing but good. She plays well for us and gives it her all on the pitch. Off it she makes the effort and yes sometimes she says no to things but isn’t that her right? You stand there as our captain but look at you, you’re nothing but a bully. I am ashamed to say i’m your team mate right now. That girl has been through hell these past couple of years and since coming here all you keep doing is reminding her of what has happened. You are obsessed with her. Look around, no one else is digging for information. No one is making her uncomfortable on a daily basis”

“She is lying to us. She won’t tell us where she was for over a year. She is hiding something and that isn’t fair on us” Alexia tried to defend her actions.

“Isn’t fair? Are you really that self centred? You have no right to talk about what is and is not fair. I don’t care if you are my captain, I won’t stand by you while you treat my best friend like she has done something wrong. You, Alexia, are a —“

“Lucy” The whole locker room turns upon hearing your voice “I have given up on Alexia, it’s time you do too”

“No! I won’t let her talk about you that way. You don’t deserve this”

“No I don’t but —“

“Y/N” Lucy begs you to let her fight you case.

“Walk away Lucy” 

A stare down takes place between you and Lucy. A few seconds later the defender grabs her stuff and leaves the room. To everyone else you are calm and collected but Keira recognises the look in your eye, you are furious.

“I want everyone to listen to me and listen good. My past is none of your business. To those who have let the obsession go, thank you. To those that haven’t” you look Alexia dead in the eye “I want nothing to do with you. I will remain civil on the pitch. Other than that I ask you to stay away from me. That’s if you can respect my wishes. I know it has been hard so far”

You quietly gather your things and try to ignore the multiple sets of eyes on you. With each second you can feel your chest getting tighter and you know it is only a matter second before you will no longer be able to control your breathing. You just needed to get out of there, away from prying eyes.

The hallway is the furthest you got. You mind was filled of flashbacks, the moments that you tried so hard to bury. The past was not a pretty place, not the last year, but you know that it was only a matter of time before it came crashing down on you. 

“Y/N, are you ok?” Mapi and Ingrid are by your side, clearly the couple had left just after you.

“Natalia, she, she” 

Ingrid and Mapi shared a look, who was Natalia? They had never heard you mention a Natalia before. Both of them didn’t know what to do. Whilst you had become friends with the pair, they didn’t know you well enough to cope with this moment. 

Luckily for them Keira appears out of nowhere. The English woman clearly equipped with what to do.

“Get Lucy, now!” She whisper shouted and Ingrid goes running hoping to catch the defender before she leaves.

“Keira—Natalia”

“I know, I know. We can talk about her later if you want. Right now, I need to focus on me. Can you do that?” 

You nod your head as tears flow down your cheeks. 

“What happened?” Lucy rushes over to you.

“We found her on the floor. She kept talking about Natalia” 

“She told you?” Lucy asks shocked. She knew you wasn’t ready to tell them team but in a state of panic you might be let it slip.

“No. She only said her name” Mapi says. She couldn’t take her eyes off you. This wasn’t a panic attack, no she had seen one of those before. This was something much more intense.

A few minutes pass and Keira manages to keep your breathing under control but you’re still not ready to move. Lucy, Mapi and Ingrid stay close making sure to tell anyone who passes to keep moving.

“What is going on?” Alexia asks with concern, a concern that doesn’t reach Lucy in fact her asking is the worst thing she could have done.

“Get away from her” Lucy is up on her feet and pushing Alexia backwards. She would has fallen to the fall if not for the wall behind her “This is all your fault. You see this, you see her, this is what you have done to her”

“Lucy” you reach up and take her hand. The defender used her strength to pull you up. 

You, Lucy, Keira, Mapi and Ingrid walk towards the exit of the stadium.

“Y/N” Alexia’s voice is soft and it is only now that she realises she might have taken things too far.

You turn around to face the Catalonian. For the first time since arriving you make no effort to hide the pain you have felt on a daily basis.

“I want nothing to do with you Alexia”

[its-all-papaya]

do you have any clingy/possessive landoscar thoughts? 🤔

Yes. I do have thoughts. Thank you for asking.

tell me what you wish I'd write

I am… obsessed with clingy needy Lando. And I don’t write him suuuuper that way a lot, I usually try and rein him in, but if you want me to be self-indulgent, I can and will.

snippet at the end!

update: second bonus snippet here

Lando basically always wants Oscar. His attention, his laughter, his hands, his everything. All of it. All the time. Lando’s always been like that with the people he cares about. Max F, Carlos, everybody he’s ever dated… He knows he’s needy. He can usually keep a pretty good handle on things, though (he’s had a lot of practice). But sometimes, when his guard is down or when things are bad, his control over it slips a bit. And with Oscar, it’s like it’s ten times worse.

Even before they were properly close, Lando would get drunk and start asking after Oscar. His teammate was never out with them, but Lando would have his eighth drink in the club, or he’d do some lines with Max, or whatever, and it would be “I wish Oscar was here” and “can you call Oscar and ask if he’ll meet us?” and “I bet Oscar’s still awake, should I text him?” Extremely noticeable. And some of Lando’s more casual friends would be kind of blindsided because - again - Lando’s really good at being normal about Oscar when he’s got his whole brain to work with. But it’s Saturday night in Monaco over winter break and he says “it’s morning in Australia, I can FaceTime Oscar, right?” and his friends are like “didn’t know it was like that, mate?”

(He does FaceTime Oscar, on his walk home when there’s nobody to stop him, smile dopey as soon as Oscar picks up. The sun is shining in the background and making Oscar kind of glow around the edges, and Lando says “you look like an angel” and Oscar laughs and that’s even worse, Jesus, “you’re so pretty, Oscar, did you know?” and Oscar had been in the middle of a workout, but he sucks on his water bottle and grins and lets Lando talk nonsensically at him for 15 straight minutes until he’s safe and locked into his apartment with a glass of water on his bedside table. “Put some paracetamol out for yourself in the morning, okay? And sleep tight, Lando.” “Thanks, angel.”)

The second season is really different. They’re much looser and Lando forgets more often that he’s supposed to be holding himself back, giving Oscar space. It’s stupid, he’s been doing it with everyone all his life, but it’s like Oscar wipes his mind blank, and he’s weaseling his way under his arm every other minute at the MTC, hooking a chin over his shoulder while they review data, following him into his driver’s room after practice and talking Oscar through his entire hour, every lap. Oscar never really tells him off, though. He just nods and smiles his quiet smile and drops odd comments when Lando lets his train of thought go a little too far off track.

Getting closer with Oscar is probably a mistake for at least one of them, because it’s like giving Lando’s brain permission to think about him even more. Oscar’s thread is always near the top when Lando opens WhatsApp, and tapping his number to call is too near to muscle memory for Lando to talk himself out of it when he’s drunk. More often than not when he’s out, the night begins and ends with Oscar - a “coming tn?" as Lando walks in and a blurry, giggly “‘lo, Osc,” through a dark front camera on his way out.

Oscar starts out with a hint of decorum. He’ll throw a shirt on before answering Lando’s call, flick the bedside lamp on, and prop his phone up so his face is mostly in frame. That lasts a few weeks, then he starts answering in the middle of whatever he’s already doing (like brushing his teeth, one memorable time, when Lando had insisted on counting up to 120 for him to make sure he did a satisfactory job) and in whatever state he’s already in. By China, Oscar’s answering from bed half the time, face barely discernible in the dark of the hotel room, mostly just mumbling “mhm” while Lando tells him all about what he’s gotten up to at the bars.

SNIPPET (kind of? this was a bullet point and then I realized I was typing actual prose so it’s a bit of a blend… bare with me… it was like 2am for me when this was cooked up…)

Oscar doesn’t come out after Miami. But he does - and he’d deny this to anybody except Lando himself, probably, and even then only when Lando’s too fucked up to remember it - stay up waiting for Lando’s call. He’d congratulated Lando in person multiple times at the track, but it doesn’t feel the same. It’s embarrassing to admit, but as much as he used to find Lando’s drunk calls a little inconvenient (though always distantly amusing) he’s grown quite attached to them somewhere along the line - the quiet intimacy, the little jokes and admissions and compliments Lando hands out when he’s far gone and using Oscar to bring himself down. Lando doesn’t call anybody else like that (Oscar had asked him once, when he was waiting for his Uber in some city or another at half two in the morning). It’s just for them - a special them. 

It gets late, though. Lando always rings late, but it gets late enough that Oscar starts worrying that Lando won’t call at all, that he’s taken someone home, or he’s passed out on someone’s couch, or he’s planning to be out so late it turns right over to early the next day instead. The sun is rising when his phone finally goes off. He’s dozed a bit on and off, the exhaustion of his own race winning out for minutes at a time, but he’s left his ringer on to make sure he doesn’t miss Lando. It’s a special occasion, yeah? He can’t be held accountable. He just doesn’t want to be the one responsible for bringing Lando down from his high inadvertently by shirking his cooldown call. 

Anyway, it’s past 4 a.m. when Oscar’s jolted from his half-daze by the notification, and he sees he’s missed a few texts ahead of time, asking if he’s awake. He hadn’t answered, obviously, but Lando’s calling anyway. Oscar’s too tired, brain too soft and amorphous, to decide how to feel about that at the moment.

“Morning, angel,” he says when he picks up. It’d started as a joke, as most of their little idiosyncrasies had, a reversal, but it’s probably not totally that anymore.

“Oscar,” Lando says. Oscar had expected him to be loud, still riding out his high, but he’s practically whispering. When Oscar finally musters up the will to check the screen, Lando’s in the dim dark somewhere. All quiet.

“Yeah, babe.” They don’t talk like this normally. It’s like these calls exist in a liminal space between their day-to-day lives now and whatever Oscar’s convinced they’re headed towards.

“It’s not morning,” Lando says. A light turns on off-screen.

“Not for you, maybe. I was asleep.” Oscar rubs at his eyes for effect, even though Lando’s not really looking at the phone. His eyes snap to the camera at that, though, and Oscar watches his face fall a little.

“I woke you?”

Oscar doesn’t give it long before he’s shushing Lando gently, “It’s alright. I’m glad you did, I want to hear about your night.”

Lando brightens back up. He’s not as drunk as Oscar expected, but he’s far enough from sober to be pretty suggestible, still, pretty easy with a smile.

He launches into a story about Max and some other names Oscar instantly forgets and a band Oscar’s never heard of, and - as the camera jostles with Lando’s efforts to pry his own shoes off - Oscar realizes he’s already back to his hotel room. 

When Lando hits a long enough pause in his rambling, Oscar says, “Hey, Lan, you want to get ready for bed? You should sleep a little.”

Lando’s nose wrinkles and his face takes on the petulant tilt Oscar is well-acquainted with after half a year of these late-night-early-morning calls.

“C’mon,” he encourages, “you’ll feel better tomorrow. I’ll help.”

Lando agrees, though he still looks a little sour about it, so Oscar talks him slowly through his nighttime routine between stretches of “Oh! Oscar! Max called Charles pretty five times, I think," and “Have you ever had a cherry bomb? Someone ordered me one.” Oscar helps him pick out a soft t-shirt to sleep in and reminds him to fill a glass with water for the bedside table and counts to 120 while Lando brushes his teeth, phone propped against the mirror. 

When everything’s sorted and Lando is sliding into bed, Oscar yawns and says, “Good to go?”

Unexpectedly, Lando’s eyes go big and kind of watery at that, and he picks the phone up from the covers and brings it close to his face so Oscar’s screen is mostly pout.

“You’re going?” Lando asks, and he sounds so forlorn that Oscar can feel his heart ache in his chest.

“Was going to,” Oscar confirms, even though it hurts a little, “You want me to stay?”

The light’s off, but Oscar can still see Lando hide his face in his pillow. It’s no surprise, then, when Lando’s, “Yeah. Please?” comes out muffled by the bulk of it.

Oscar softens to it. It was never a question.

“Okay,” he says, “you need me to talk? Or just stay on?”

“Stay on,” Lando says. His voice is back to normal, but it’s tiny, a little fragile. So different from the hours and hours leading up to this, Oscar thinks, contextualizing.

“Might fall asleep,” Oscar warns. His lamp’s back off, too, and with Lando safe and sound, Oscar’s bed feels cozier than ever.

“S’okay,” Lando says, “me too.”

“That’s good,” Oscar sets his phone next to him on the bed. Lando’s done the same, both screens matching black and gray, matching hotel ceilings just a few doors apart. “Goodnight, race winner.”

Lando’s laugh is mostly just a hard exhale, but it warms Oscar from the inside out just the same.

“Goodnight, angel.”

(I wrote another whole scene for this ask but this got kind of long already.... so if anybody would like to see it.... all it takes is one little ask... lmk.... xoxo)

[apomaro-mellow]

Part B

I just wanted a bit of Eddie losing control while protecting Steve and their unborn child and this word vomit came out.

“He’s making FOOLS of us Juliana!” 

Alric Harrington ripped up the invitation that had been sent. His wife sat in a corner, rubbing her round belly worriedly. 

“He gets himself kidnapped, then fornicates with this beast, IS CARRYING HIS SEED, and now...” He breathed in deep. After his outburst his next words were deceivingly quiet. “Now he is planning to parade under the legitimacy of marriage.”

“You don’t really think that he could be...that he could be carrying, do you?”, Juliana’s eyes were glistening. “It’s not possible. It’s-”

“Blasphemy. He has been a stain on the royal family for too long. And I have neglected my duties as a father.”

“My love-”

“I will do what needs to be done! For the sake of our name. So our next child can come into a pure world.”

-----------------------

The castle had been buzzing with activity. The kind that Steve would love to oversee. If only his groom-to-be could find it in him to let him go. 

“I would like to get out of bed sometime today”, Steve said.

Eddie growled against his ear, hands pressed protectively around his torso. Most of their mornings for the past month had been like this. Ever since they realized their coupling had taken and Steve was pregnant. With him only being a few weeks along, there wasn’t an official announcement but everyone in the castle knew which meant the rumor was probably flying outside the walls of their home as well.

The day they confirmed it, Eddie immediately went to the balcony and shouted it to the heavens for all to hear. He had been ecstatic, elated. And then horny. And then fiercely protective.

Usually, they were slow to get out of bed for more romantic reasons. Now, Steve couldn’t get Eddie to let him go until his baser instincts were satisfied and knew he and his child wouldn’t meet their end the moment they left the bedroom.

When he was finally able to leave, he was able to look on the wedding preparations. Steve couldn’t help but think about how he had started in this place. Stolen from his kingdom and sulking in a cold dungeon. Now he was a king in all but name.

Preparations went on and just a few weeks into them, Steve received a message from his parents. It was an official announcement. The birth of the new crown prince, Tristan Harrington. When Steve read through it, his hands shook. Eddie held them to ground him.

“They don’t deserve you, love. You don’t need to involve yourself with them anymore.”

“Eddie, it’s not about me.” He put a hand to his belly, thinking of their own future child. “They’re going to ruin him. That’s my brother, I can’t ignore that.”

Eddie kissed his knuckles. “What do you want to do?”

Steve separated the announcement from another letter. “This came with it. My father wants to meet with you.”

Eddie growled. The last time that man called on Steve, his carriage just happened to be accosted by bandits. Eddie still wasn’t convinced that wasn’t somehow his father’s doing.

“I think he wants to negotiate. Maybe, in his own self delusion, he’s seeing this as a political marriage. Which means opportunity for him.”

“He doesn’t get to use you like a pawn after he threw you away”, Eddie said, wishing he’d used softer words when he saw how Steve flinched. “I don’t have to meet with him. I am a king, he does not order me.”

“Eddie...if we play our cards right maybe...”, Steve sighed. What he was hoping for seemed so lofty but he just had to believe it. “Maybe they’ll let me be in my brother’s life.”

Steve knew what would probably happen if they didn’t try. His name would be wiped from the royal record, his brother would be left completely in the dark about him and grow up under the same oppressive hand as he did. Or things could be worse to keep him from going down the same road as Steve.

Any anger Eddie had dissipated when he looked into his love’s eyes. He’d do anything for this man. Eddie leaned over, putting their heads together. 

“I’ll talk to him. But you owe me~”, he grinned, starting to kiss at the side of Steve’s face.

“Oh? Pledging myself eternally to you and bearing your heirs isn’t enough”, Steve teased.

“Heirssssss?”

“It appears I’ve bedded a snake.”

“Steve, my light, are you...?”

“I’m barely showing. But Jeff is predicting twins.”

And then Eddie purred and Steve knew he’d lost him. He kept going anyway.

“Robin is saying it’s gonna be a whole litter but I know she’s just teasing like she does-”

Eddie pushed him to the bed and all conversation stopped right there.

--------------------------

Unusual for a royal procession, they kept their party small. Eddie didn’t trust the people they were going to. He kept their most loyal back at the castle. Both to keep up with the wedding preparations and to make sure nothing happened while they were gone. Robin had protested but she was the only one Steve trusted with his vision for his wedding day and he needed someone who wouldn’t rile Eddie up the whole time. He loved Robin, but she could be an instigator, which was why they brought Jeff. 

When the castle gates were in sight, Steve held Eddie’s hand and looked to him.

“Now when we get there, you have to promise me-”

“Anything, sweetness.”

“No theatrics.”

“Hm, almost anything.”

“Eddie.”

“Steve, I can’t not make an entrance, I have a reputation to uphold.”

“They’ll be less flexible if they see you as the literal incarnation of darkness. Just try and tone it down a little?”

Toning it down ended up meaning sending a very large horde of crows ahead of them to perch on the walls and rooftops of the castle. When Steve exited the carriage, he gave Eddie a very controlled look before seeing his parents awaiting them. It was the first time he’d seen them in months. Steve had hoped Tristan would be there, cradled in his mother’s arms so that he could meet him right away. But he wasn’t. If Steve had to guess, he was away in the nursery.

“The kingdom welcomes you”, Alric said, with a very obvious undercurrent of ‘but I do not’. His father didn’t even spare him a glance. “I’m sure you must be tired after your long journey-”

“I’d actually like to get right to business”, Eddie interrupted. “But I would like Steve to rest. Wouldn’t want to put any stress on your grandchild.”

Somehow they managed to keep from grimacing, but neither of his parents’ expressions could be called pleasant. Eddie was taken to discuss things with his father, while Steve followed behind his mother. Eddie had ordered Jeff not to leave Steve’s side, so he came along as well.

Walking down the halls that had housed him until recently, Steve felt very much like a child again, under his parents’ thumb. It didn’t matter that he had grown and changed and was even about to be a father himself. One stern look from his mother and all he wanted was to please her.

They came to one of the sitting rooms. Steve remembered spending plenty of nights here when he was very young and still loved in the king and queen’s eyes. Jeff stood at attention at the door while they were served tea.

“Congratulations on bringing my brother into the world.”

“It was an easy birth”, his mother said tersely.

Steve bit his lip. He knew the situation and the events leading up to it were unorthodox, but typically mothers were happy when their children were having children of their own. Couldn’t she look at him and smile a little? Offer up some motherly wisdom? Anything?

“Do you have any advice? For when it happens?”, he asked, putting a hand to his belly.

Her eyes narrowed at the movement but she was saved from answering when a nursemaid came in, holding who could only be his brother.

“We need to talk”, his mother said.

------------------------------

“You’ve written quite the essay here”, Eddie said, fingers brushing against the parchment Alric had presented. They sat across from each other. There were royal guards standing sentry all around, which was normal. But Eddie clocked how tense they were. “How about you just give me the broad strokes.”

“Your reputation for eschewing formality precedes you”, Alric glared.

“I find that people use decorum as armor. It means they’re trying to hide something unsightly. Just say to my face that you want to use your own son as a bargaining chip.”

“Are you not a king?”, Alric challenged. “You know as well as I do that we do not live for ourselves, but for our people. We are all bargaining chips from the day we’re born. Steven is no different. Neither are you.”

“And I suppose your newborn is just as expendable?” In fact, Eddie was willing to bet the queen was using the infant to get Steve to fall in line.

“He is the future of this kingdom. And I won’t let anything get in the way of it.”

Eddie laughed. “It’s funny. Had you done this months ago, we could have been over and done.” Having a sit down with this man had been all Eddie wanted. Kidnapping Steve to coerce him had been a last resort and not even that had worked.

“I’d say things ended up in your favor. You got a plaything in the form a crown prince.”

“Your son is more than a plaything. He’s more than a pawn! If you don’t have the decency to respect him now, when he’s the only thing holding me back, then we have nothing to discuss.” Eddie stood and more guards mobilized around them.

Alric crossed his arms. “That boy hasn’t done a damn thing to earn my respect. And neither have you. I could have declared war on you long ago. I didn’t. But playtime is over.”

Three guards tried to tackle Eddie but only managed to get him down for a second before he was shoving them off. But one had gotten a noose around his neck and tightened it. Others began to tie down his limbs.

“Get him to the dungeons for now. We’ll have a public execution in the morning. Juliana should be done with Steven by now.”

Eddie’s struggling paused and all he saw was red.

--------------------

Steve and his mother stood over a crib that had been brought to the room. There, Tristan laid, napping peacefully. 

“Can I hold him?”, Steve asked.

“Steven...this baby will be king one day”, his mother said in response.

“....I’m aware”, Steve said, a little confused.

“I intend to do right with this one. I don’t know where exactly I went wrong with you, but I did.” Her eyes began to wet as if she were truly heartbroken by what her firstborn had become.

“Mother, I-”, he stopped when she held up a hand. It upset him that the move still worked on him.

“I am not your mother anymore. I just can’t be. If any child of mine cavorted with a beast like that I would...” She shook her head and swallowed.

Steve’s own grief was starting to be tempered with anger. “You would what? Say it.”

Juliana moved away from the crib, turning her back to him as she took a deep breath. “I would take my own life, as penance. And if I thought, for just one second that you would turn out this way...”

Steve waited for her to finish. When she didn’t he walked briskly to her side. “You would what? Send me away? Disown me? You’ve already done that.”

“I would have slit your throat”, she glared.

She rendered him speechless. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Jeff tensing.

“Better to start over than allow a stain to spread. Steven, know that I say this with love. As my final act as your mother, to save your soul.”

“What are you talking about?!”

Steve got distracted when one of the royal guards attacked Jeff. Juliana got the jump on him and tied a cloth around his neck, pushing him down onto one of the many couches in the room. As his air was cut off, he thought about how easy he normally escaped something like this. But just because this woman had held the title ‘mother’ over his head, he hesitated.

Had he really been that spectacular of a failure? Was he so wrong for wanting to do right by them? If he just let her kill him, would that fix everything? Would they finally be happy?

Then the skies outside got dark. A screech rumbled through the castle as all warmth seeped out and was replaced by a chill. Steve pushed his mother off and while he was gasping for breath, Jeff came from behind and cracked a serving tray against her head. She fell limp onto the floor.

The air around them crackled and the shadows in the room got bigger. Something was clawing up the walls and Steve ran to the window right before Eddie burst through it. He was a mass of pitch black. Like he couldn’t decide what form to take. The only discernable parts of him were wild eyes, claws, and a maw of sharp teeth which had Alric’s body, slack and covered in blood.

Eddie dropped him at Steve’s feet, presenting. He gave a low groan, the only sign he was still alive. Steve heard his brother crying but had to tend to Eddie first.

“Jeff the, the baby”, he said.

Jeff went right over to soothe the infant while Steve reached for the darkness that was his love. Steve let it surround him, whispering things soft and sweet so that his king knew that he and their child were safe; that he’d done his duty and protected them.

-----------------------

Calling the royal council with such short notice was rare. But today was just the day for that sort of thing. They waited in the throne room to know the reason they had been summoned when two figures entered.

Eddie held Steve’s hand as they walked to the two thrones, meant for the king and queen. Eddie led his lover to the throne that was always meant to be his, and sat him in the king’s place. He bowed his head and kissed his hand, then sat next to him.

The council was stunned to silence.

“Alric and Juliana have committed a terrible crime against us, and are awaiting their punishment in the dungeons”, Steve announced. 

That got the men out of their shocked stupor and talking. Eddie wanted to rip out all their throats, but he let Steve control the conversation. Steve held a hand, prompting them to silence. It was as Eddie said, they were relying on decorum and rules to make sense of the madness before them. It honestly was the only thing keep Eddie from painting the walls with their blood.

“They attempted to assassinate King Edward and made an attempt on my life as well. For that, they have been stripped of their titles and any claims to the land.”

“Don’t tell me you propose to take their place”, one of the councilmen chortled. “You have no rights to the throne!”

Eddie growled and Steve rubbed his knuckles to soothe him.

“Fortunately, that won’t be necessary, as the kingdom does have an heir. I have no intention of stealing my brother’s birthright. But he is just a child.”

“Then the law dictates we should induct a regent until he is of age”, another said. “So if you will leave us to that-”

“The law dictates that we are well within our rights to march our armies and take you for all you have”, Steve said. “Do not mistake the grace I give for fragility. I know you all had a hand in that assassination attempt. I only keep you alive because appointing an entirely new council is not worth the hassle. That being said, you will see a decrease in your reach as the merge happens.”

“The merge?”

Eddie grinned, then looked to Steve like an angel of justice.

“Appointing a regent will only encourage infighting and problems down the road. Tristan will be king one day, if he so chooses. And will receive all the education he needs to do so under my wing. Until that day, these lands, which will one day be his, shall fall under King Edward’s rule.”

They were stunned into silence again and Eddie just couldn’t help himself. He was smiling so hard he thought his face might split.

“Welcome to hell bitches!”

[tea-the-not-understanding]

Malheur AU (Placeholder name WIP)

Mal Du Pays never vanished

They just became part of Siffrin. And Siffrin just has to deal with being part Sadness

He doesn’t quite have that kind of hostility, but him crying spontaneously and without reason is a commonality. He does snap sometimes and it does take a battle to bring him back to his senses.

He has some level of control over wish craft/time craft (but not much). He’s still got his other craft powers down pat tho yay!

Boi learned nothing about confiding in his pals about scary things. Keep Mal Du Pays away from your friends what an excellent idea

This of course affects their thoughts, them becoming more toxic and self loathing.

And since Mal du pays is kinda tied to homesickness (since that’s what it is in French), an odd obsession with finding out more about the forgotten country (even to the detriment to his own health) would somewhat make sense in my head.

I wanna include Loop but I don’t know how to lol

that would be like, having another loop but less joyful and less good at acting and a huge terrible actor and letting out his rage and emotions more often. but my god I could imagine that siffrin is like having a talking depression everywhere you go.

Funny how my sona and side sona had that too! But goddamn I love the idea so much on having Mal du pays back and around!!

[a-spes]

T H E B L O O D O N M Y H A N D S - One shot.

Words count - 3,2k.

Tags & Warnings - Natasha Romanoff x reader, angst / comfort, a form of self-harm, mentions of death and blood.

Summary - When you kill someone on duty for the first time, Natasha is the one being here to stop you from falling.

— — — — —

You haven’t been a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent for long, barely more than three years. It may seem long for some people but, in that kind of job, it is not. Although your training ended up a long time ago, your teammates are still calling you a Rookie because even after years of duty, you still have a lot of things to learn, some the hard way.

You guess this nickname will stick with you until a new recruit joins the agency. It has been three years that no one passed the entrance exam so you are still seen as the newest addition which pisses you off sometimes. It is frustrating to not be taking seriously just because you are a bit less experienced than your teammates, some of them only been on the agency for one more year than you but are acting cocky with it.

However, despite your teammates’ attitude, you are convinced you are right where you are supposed to be : even if some days are rough, you love this job. Honestly, you never planned to join the agency but now you are here, you don’t want to leave.

You have always dreamed about becoming a police officer, not some kind of governmental spy. You ended up here thanks to a bit of fate and, mostly, thanks to the help of one of your professors. At the police academy, you were doing great, you were among the best of your promotion, that is why Mr. Andrews suggested you to take the entrance exam for the S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy. Before that day, you had never heard about the agency, but you still decided to give it a try, it was the least you could do to thanks him for everything he did.

Surprisingly, you succeed the exam and earned a place at the academy, alongside with two of your classmates. You weren’t sure it was what you wanted to do, but it was probably your only chance to give it a try so you went to the academy, thinking you could always leave if it doesn’t suit you. Yet, it has been the best decision you made.

Surely, you doubted it sometimes, thinking about quitting because the training was so hard, both physically and mentally, that you thought you couldn’t take it anymore. But you stayed, not being alone helped you a lot so, even if you doubted a lot your decision, you never regretted it.

Until today.

One day was enough to change everything. The first rule in the job is that you know nothing. Every mission is different, every mission could go wrong at any moment, it is impossible to be prepared to what it could bring to you. After three years of duty, you tend to forget about that rule. Up to now, everything went smooth, except for a few injuries you got, you were lucky.

It was supposed to be a routine mission, not much different than the previous ones. Your team was supposed to take back some important documents, so you needed to infiltrate the hotel the guys who stole it were staying.

“I get it”, you whisper in the communication device.

But when you are about to leave the room, you hear the voices of two persons. You don’t have much time, so you decide to quickly hide under the bed, you wish there was a better place but all you can do is waiting here, praying they won’t notice your presence. However, it seems fate is not on your side tonight.

After maybe ten minutes of waiting that felt like an eternity, you eventually feel someone pulling you from under the bed by grabbing your legs. You may be a qualified agent, but they are way more experienced than you are. You were listening to their conversation but yet, you couldn’t have guessed they knew you were here the whole time. Racing heart and irregular breath are the signs of panic, but you can’t let those take the control of your body, fear is a synonym to death. Take a deep breath, think and attack before they can.

It is quite easy to escape the man’s grasp because he wasn’t expecting you to be so fast. But the man wasn’t the problem, it was the woman with him. She was aiming that gun at you while you were fighting with her mate, not shooting yet because she could’ve killed him instead, but as soon as you stand up, she doesn’t hesitate anymore.

It was a reflex.

She missed the first bullet because of the circumstances, because she couldn’t clearly target you so the bullet passed closed enough. Except she doesn’t look like someone that misses an easy shot and you don’t look like someone who wants to die so you shoot first.

It was a reflex.

It is the first you kill someone on duty. Three years of duty during whose you ensured that you wouldn’t kill anyone. You get them out of the way, you hurt them, sometimes you knock them out like you just did with that guy but you never took a life. But tonight you did, for the first time. Tonight, you didn’t aim for that woman’s leg but for her chest, right where her heart is, she died almost on the spot. It feels awful.

On the way back to the base, you are silent. Your teammates don’t even notice how quiet you are tonight. The two sitting on the front of the car are talking, the last one is humming some music. The mood is light because the mission was a success: you did bring back those documents. So why aren’t you joyful? You don’t know, but tonight you don’t feel like joking, laughing and jumping around as you usually would.

Tonight, you won’t celebrate with your mates because there is nothing to celebrate. A woman died. It doesn’t matter which side she was on or if she was aiming that gun at your head because you shoot and it makes you no better than the people you despise. When you joined the Academy, it was to save civilians, to make something good about your life, you wanted to feel useful and make a difference. So from the moment you became an agent, you avoid killing people. A part of you knew that, one day, wouldn’t let you choose but you didn’t think much about it; if after three years you didn’t kill anyone, it’ll may stay that way until you end your career.

Oh, how naive you were.

Maybe you are too gentle for that world. Your mates kill people and you never saw them hesitating, so what’s wrong with you? Can’t your mind just shut up? It is not that a big deal, is it? It is supposed to be your job, you did what you had to, right? So why does it still feel wrong?

You are a person that easily slip on other people’s shoes. Those people called villains are nothing more than people that got lost at a moment in their lives, people that were failed by the system or made a wrong choice, does it mean they deserve to die? Some of them, maybe, but definitely not that woman. She was barely older than you are, she had a whole life to live but she will never get you because of you, because you decided she didn’t deserve to live.

It is something your superiors often blame you for: your inability to shot when it is needed. It is not because it led to failed mission, but because it caused you a lot of injuries that could have been avoid. They never understood why you were so reluctant to do so, sometimes they are angry, sometimes just disappointed. But tonight you eventually did exactly what they are expecting from you. That’s what you are repeating to yourself but it doesn’t make you feel any better, if you hate the idea of disappointing Agent Romanoff, your superior, you probably hate your actual situation even more.

This moment is playing again and again on your mind, making you oblivious of your surrounding. The sound of her body falling is covering your mates’ voices. The way her chest raised one last time before she stopped moving, the way her eyes were wide open and the blood. Everywhere. On the ground, on her suit, on your hands. A bit of your own, but mostly of her, who knew a body contains so much blood? Not you.

When you are finally back at the compound, the redhead is here. Even if you are not a trainee anymore, you are still a rookie until they decide otherwise and she will probably be your mentor for a few more years. And being your mentor means that wherever you are, she is. Today was your first mission alone. Well, you weren’t really alone, you had your usual team by your side but she wasn’t here. At first, she didn’t want to let you go, wherever she is, you are, but she let herself be convinced. This mission couldn’t wait more, neither could the emergency call she got.

The mission was easier than some you did by the past, she knows you are capable but still, she can’t get over that strange feeling, being scared for you security. She knows she can trust you but can she really trusts your mates? She is stressing over the fact that, for the first time, she isn’t here to protect you.

She is now regretting her choice, it was irresponsible from her to agree to such a demand. She has no idea what exactly happened during the mission but she heard that things didn’t go as smoothly as they were supposed too. She is pacing back and forth on the garage, waiting for your team to come back. She tried to get more information from Fury, but he doesn’t know much more than what he already told her.

A few hours later, the team is eventually back. When her eyes catch you, she is relieved: you seem fine. Her relief only lasts a moment as she quickly notices something is off with your attitude. You ignored her, didn’t even looked for her as you would usually do.

“What happened?” she asks to one of the agents that was on the mission. She grabbed him by the arm, forcing him to look at her, she is taking the whole situation seriously.

“She fired”, he replies, shrugging.

The man doesn’t really understand why it is such a big deal to you, after three years, you should be used to that kind of things happening in a mission. However, Natasha immediately understood.

She rushes to find you but it is already too late. She can’t find you on the locker room, neither she can on your dorm or on the common areas. It is on the shared bathroom that she eventually finds you. She can’t help but being worried. She was really young when she killed for the first time, but she still remembers how it feels, years don’t take away the guilt and the disgust. The difference is that she never got a chance to think too much about it, she was raised to kill, it felt almost normal after a while, she got used to that feeling You, however, are not of that kind. It doesn’t matter how skilled you are: you are not a murder.

“What are you doing?” she asks, frowning when she saw you here.

Scrubbing. That is what you are doing and the only thing left in your mind, you are just obsessed with the idea of cleaning your hands. So you are scrubbing. You are scrubbing until the water turns clear but it doesn’t, it stays red and bloody. It seems there is always more blood on your hands.

You are so focused that you didn’t even hear the woman coming in. Your ears are ringing and your vision is blurry because of the tears in your eyes, the only thing you can see clearly is the blood, all this red. You are using a nail brush in hope it would help you get it of the dirt? but it doesn’t. It just hurts.

A pain that you ignore.

A pain that you feel like you deserved it, like it is the only way to get those memories out of your mind, even if it is just for a moment, you are glad to be able to focus on something.

However, Natasha is not. As soon as she realizes what you are doing, she steps in. She turns the water off, wrapping her hands around yours to make you stop, as her attempts to talk to you failed. She slowly takes the soap and the brush from your hands, putting it on the sink.

For a few minutes, you remain silent. You don’t even dare to look at her in the eyes, how could you? The guilt and the shame make you avoid her gaze, a part of you being scared about what she could say or think. Maybe she sees you exactly as you do right now: pathetic and horrible.

“Let’s clean those wounds”, she eventually says in a quiet voice that surprises you because you thought she would be angry and yell at you. Or maybe it is what you wished she would do. It is easier to hate yourself when people do too.

But she doesn’t.

On the contrary, she is sweet and caring, an attitude that is rarely hers, Agent Romanoff not being someone showing that she cares the usual way. She is usually demanding with the people she cares for but she understands that tonight you don’t need that. Right now, what you need is someone by your side, someone to guide you through that situation.

So she makes you sit on a stool. You don’t protest, there is something good in not having to think about what to do next. She comes back with a few seconds later with medical kit. She sits in front of you and, in silence, she starts to take care of your hands. You scrubbed them for so long and with so much pressure that the blood at the end wasn’t the woman’s anymore. It was yours because the brush scratched your hands.

“Here we are”, she says once she is done. She cleaned your wounds with alcohol and then applied bandages on your hands. She seems to want to add something, but she hesitates. “Do you want to talk about it?” she eventually asks.

You shake your head, no. You don’t want to talk about it, you don’t want to hear about it, you don’t even want to think about what happened today. If it was possible, you would like to erase this day from your mind or turn back in time so you can change the outcome, but you can’t.

Natasha sighs but she doesn’t push, she knows it is not the solution. Instead, she guides you to her quarters.

“It is not my room”, you remark when you get here. It is a one person room, one of the privileges of being a superior.

“No, it’s not”, she acknowledges, “but I am not leaving your side.”

“You don’t need to do that, I am gonna be fine”, but she doesn’t let you go. As you try to leave the room, she firmly hold you by the arm. You staying here wasn’t a question, not even an invitation, it was more of an order.

“No, you are not. And after what happened I don’t trust you, at least not tonight”, she tells you and she is not joking at all. She has that serious expression and you know she won’t take no as an answer. You want to be alone, but deep down you are relieved you won’t spend the night alone.

She helps you take off your suit. She then helps you to put on some of her clothes, a short and a t-shirt, so you are ready to go to sleep. It is already late, midnight was long gone. She guides you to the bed, it is a bit small but it is just for one night and you don’t seem to protest, you just let her guide you, your mind being far away.

The two of you are leaning in the bed in silence. Her chest pressing against your back, her head near to yours. She is holding you firmly, as if she was scared you could run away. You stay in that position for a moment before your voice breaks the silence.

“I- I don’t even know her name, I barely saw her face and-” you eventually say, feeling the need to let a bit of what is in your mind out. You are exhausted, but you can’t even close your eyes to try to sleep, those memories and thoughts keeping you wide awake.

“it’s okay”, she whispers in your ear. She is not sleeping either, too worried about you for that. She already knows that she is going to stay awake the whole night to keep an eye on the woman she is holding in her arms.

“No!” you yell. You can’t stand how calm she is. “No it’s not, how could it be okay? I killed her. I killed a woman and I don’t even know who she was.”

“It happens, sometimes, you have no choice”, she continues to talk in a quiet voice, soothing you by stroking your hair. She knows nothing she could say right now would make it easier. You need time and support, all she can do is being here and let you know she is.

“I do, I should’ve aimed for her limb or…”, you start, but you can’t even finish your sentence. You feel your throat tighten, your voice broke on the last few words.

“You did exactly what you had to. You did exactly what you had to stay alive. I know it is hard but you will get through it, okay? And I am gonna be here, with you, the whole time”, she whispers again in your ear, her voice calming a bit the storm in you.

This is how you eventually fell asleep. In the comfort of the arms of that woman, with a feeling of security. The way her hand is brushing your hair calming your mind until Morpheus accepts you in his realm. The words she is whispering in your ears are helping to ease the guilt and the hate. However, Natasha won’t sleep. She is going to stay awake the whole night just so she can be here if you wake up needing her, no matter what time of the night it is, she wants to make sure you are not alone because it is the worst in situations like this.

[rendy-a]

Hey, um hi! I'm new here, nice to meet you, sorry I'm a bit awkward with requests

So, Could we have some of the Self aware AU with Idia and Sebek? It can be whatever you want, a headcanon or a mini one shot, whichever you prefer more^^

Thank you ahead!

~~~🌟🎃

The interesting thing with Self Aware AU is that you can write it like the game characters are aware of you as you play or you can write where the player is isekai’d into the game and everyone knows about it.  Last time, I had written it in the perspective of playing the game irl.  I thought this time, I’d write it as though the player was somehow drawn into the game.  Hope you enjoy it. 

Remember, the Self-Aware AU is a yandere AU!

When you’d awoken inside your favorite phone game…well, you’d freaked out.  But then!  You’d made one rule; never mention the game to any character.  It was just strange.  Plus, you weren’t sure how they’d react!  It was a rule you’d managed to follow, until today.

You, like the character Yuu in your game, were a first-year student at NRC.  As much as you’d liked to have avoided all the game characters to prevent triggering any dangerous events, you shared class with Ace and Deuce (plus lived with Grim).  Over time, you’d been pulled into lunches and joint classes with all the first-year students.  Thankfully, the first-year students weren’t where the problem was.  That was with the Housewardens and you avoided them in every situation possible.  You were relieved that the plot of the game had you living in such a remote dorm and excused you from attending any sort of club activities. 

And yet, you sometimes wished you would meet the characters.  It would be so cool to talk to your favorites, see them in actual real life!  Only, you were also pretty sure the minute you came face-to-face, you’d say something embarrassing or stupid.  Like you did when you met Ace and Deuce.  You still cringe when you remember calling them the ‘single braincell duo’ to their faces.  Yes, it was probably for the best that you took isolated halls to class to avoid the seniors.  You wouldn’t want to turn the corner and ACK!

You rolled over from where you’d fallen and gazed up to see who or what you’d collided with.  You recoiled in horror as nebulous blue flames made patterns across your vision.  “What kind of ridiculous anime situation is this.  Real people should look at where they are going in the hall.  This place needs a mini-map to avoid NPC’s like this.  I can’t believe on the one day I have to attend class in person some extrovert is lurking in my quiet hallway…”  He hadn’t looked up from where he’d fallen but you could tell in an instant that you’d triggered some rare event and encountered a wild Idia.

You spend this small moment wondering if you should pretend to know him or not.  He’s a Housewarden, so you should probably know who he is, right?  But at the same time, he never leaves Ignihyde, so how would you know him?  Maybe you should pretend to not know him.  “It��s you,” a small voice interrupts your dilemma.  You look up at Idia in surprise only to find a matching expression of surprise on his face.  Then his mouth parts slightly and a string of words emerges.  “What should I do?  I didn’t prepare for this event.  I’m not ready to meet my Oshi in person.  How do I trigger the correct dialog option here?  I’m going to get a death flag; I just know it…”

He says a lot of things, but one thing catches your attention: Oshi.  Were you somehow Idia’s favorite?  That can’t be, right?  You let out a giggle at the absurdity of the situation.  Idia’s eyes grow large, and he shrinks back at the sound, started to hear it coming from your mouth.  “Don’t be so nervous Idia.  Nothing bad is going to happen,” you say softly.  When you speak to him, Idia loses control of himself and starts talking rapidly, “Of course!  If the Player says so, then it is so.  They are so amazing, like limited SSR class amazing.  I don’t deserve to even be in their presence.  They are probably thinking, who is this gloomy weirdo with the fire hair?  Why is he dressed so strange, he probably doesn’t have any fashion sense.” 

“That’s not true!” you shout, “I remember when your Ghost Marriage card came out!  Oh my gosh!  It looked so cool!  It was totally my favorite card.  I had to pull 200 times to get it!”  Then you abruptly stop, realizing you’ve said too much when Idia’s hair turns completely pink.  “I…I’m just going to go,” you say as you cover your face in embarrassment and walk back around the corner the way you had arrived.

The students of Ignihyde gave Idia a wide berth as he returned to the dorm.  No one dared approach him while his hair flickered so violently from gentle pink to blazing red.  Idia himself seemed entirely unaware of the bizarre show he was putting on.  He continued mumbling and giggling to himself all the way back to his room.  When he finally found the solitude of his inner sanctuary, he jumped on his bed and hugged his Player-print body pillow.  “Hee Hee Hee!” he laughs out loud for no one to hear but himself.  “I did it.  I meet my Oshi!”  Then he rolls over onto his back and stares dreamily into the ceiling, “They knew who I was.  That must mean something.  Maybe, this is fate?” 

There was only one rule all the inhabitants of Twisted Wonderland had; don’t interfere with the Player.  It was a rule he’d managed to follow, until today.  Today, Fate intervened.  If Fate wanted you two to be together, who was Idia to argue?  As he stared at the ceiling, Idia’s engineering brain went into gear planning designs for a place he could take you where no one else could reach.  A place where you’d finally be alone, with only him.  Just like Fate had planned.

Over time, you’d noticed that the residents of Twisted Wonderland treated you differently.  You remembered the first time you heard Crowley tell the aggravated student body he’d assigned weekend cleaning duty to all students to clean up the campus for their use…because he was so kind.  While all around you, students started grumbling, you’d burst out laughing.  When everyone had started looking at you, you’d choked off your laugh and covered your face.  “Sorry, he just…he said the thing,” you managed to get out between smothered chuckles. 

No one ever called you out on your strange behavior.  It was like they all collectively got together and decided that you were allowed to behave in any way you chose.  They, on the other hand, often seemed to struggle with deciding if they should act normally in your presence or not.  The number of times you’d slipped into a room of rowdy students to have the conversation cut off into a silent awe was alarming.  Today was just another example.

You’d gotten back after a class and lay in your bed, bored.  You’d think that being pulled into your favorite game would give you endless entertainment but, after a time, it just settled into being exactly like school in your world.  The only difference is you occasionally went out looking for locations or characters in the game, like a sort of anime pilgrimage.  Sometimes, you’d been caught in awkward situations, but you’d just sort of nod and say, “This all looks fine,” and leave.  No one has ever called you out on your intrusions.  So…you just felt free to invite yourself anywhere you were curious to go.  Today, you thought about things you were interested in and decided that you’d go to some of the clubs to find out what the club uniforms looked like.  After all, not all those cards were released; it’s like the ultimate preview!

You were almost used to the way things fell silent when you entered the stable yard.  Members of the Horseback Riding Club stopped what they were doing to stare at you.  Those who faced away noticed the attention of their fellows and turned to see you before they too, fell silent.  In almost no time at all, they had casually circled you, as though waiting for you to hand out some sort of instruction or give a speech.  You rubbed your head and thought, guess it’s time to break out the old ‘nothing to see here’ and bounce.  Before you could though, a call broke the silence.  “HUMAN!”

You turned toward the sound, an eager expression coming over you.  Were you about to experience the famous rants of Sebek?  As you hoped, Sebek was loudly berating students at the outer edges of the semi-circle for their inattention during club activities.  You eased yourself forward, hoping to catch sight of him.  No one tried to bar your way, parting before you as you progressed.  You easily reached his side and leaned forward to watch his antics.  Suddenly, he turns and grabs onto YOU!  “HUMAN, YOU AREN’T EVEN DRESSED YET!  THIS SORT OF SLOVENLY BEHAVIOR…” and then he trails off as he looks at your face and you can see the awareness fall over him.

His eyes go wide, and he immediately let’s go of your shoulder, visibly taken aback.  He stammers and you imagine you even see tears gathering in his eyes.  You think to yourself, time to find a way out of this before things get even worse.  “I…I’m here for an inspection…” you say carefully.  All the gathered students listen intently, standing just a touch straighter.  “Sebek, I have decided…I have decided to see how many push-ups you can do in a minute.”  It made no sense, and you knew it made no sense.  You wondered if this would finally be the time someone calls you on your BS but instead, Sebek perks up to an extreme degree.  “YES, OF COURSE!  RIGHT AWAY!” he bellows. 

You stand at his side as he begins, pretending to care far more than you do about the results of this demonstration.  Honestly, it is impressive.  The speed at which he sets out to complete the exercises is extreme.  You wonder for a moment just what sort of training Lilia DOES give to Sebek and Silver to get them to this level of fitness.  When he is finished with the allotted minute, he jumps to attention, standing much as you’d imagine he does on guard over Malleus.  You give it a moment and then say, “Yes, that will suffice.  You may all return to your duties now.”  Having ordered the students to depart, they comply with a surprising speed.  They all still watch you but now they do it while pretending to be engaged in filling buckets with water or looking over curry combs. 

You give one final nod to Sebek and say, “Good job,” before you walk away.  That was more than enough excitement for one night.  You’d rather spend the rest of the evening in Ramshackle than deal with any more things like this tonight.  Behind you, Sebek watches you go in awe.  You praised him; you told him he did a good job.  Before you quite got out of earshot, you heard one last shout, “SILVER WAKE UP!  THEY PRAISED ME, THE PLAYER PRAISED ME!”  You laughed to yourself, what a strange world this was.

That evening in Diasomnia, Sebek carefully pulled his portrait of Malleus off the wall.  Nestled behind it was a photograph of the Player.  He gazed at it reverently.  They’d spoken to him today; praised him even.  He wasn’t yet over it.  He thinks we will never get over it.  He places your photo next to his pillow as he lays down to sleep.  In the morning, he’ll put it back behind the portrait.  He’d not dare to change his room’s layout from what the Player knows!  But for tonight, he’d fall asleep to your face and the remembrance of your voice.  Someday…maybe he’d not even need to use a photograph.  ‘NO!’ he tells himself sternly, ‘the Player is not for you!’  And yet, some dark corner of his mind tells him that ‘good job’ is just a small step away from ‘I love you.’

[fregget-frou]

Self awareness in video games are such a great idea and it’s underutilized, the horror of realizing your reality :) ft. One of my TAVs Fitz

Some rambles of self aware/4th wall breaking in BG3 under cut

Wish we had more fics/writings about how the characters would interact and process being a game character, because the game is aware of its self (at least for characters like Karlach and her cut 4th wall break scene). I just like the thought of one of them making a high perception check and suddenly gaining awareness and the surrounding world goes down in quality, and they see the underlying textures of their party members.

The sudden freak event ends quickly, but just enough to keep their mind on it. Then as things continue they just notice it more. How Tav sometimes just walks around without reason, how they seem to be so aware of things even they don’t know why, and how their eyes don’t shine in the same way others do. Think of Tav realizing they don’t have as much control as they thought, feeling the tugs of the code pushing them towards decisions, even if they seem small. Until after the game, they feel the tug leave, like a breath of fresh air, collapsing and confused. Only for their freedom to be short lived, once the epilogue happens.

Characters like Gale feelings the weave, and for just a moment it doesn’t feel right, and he sees the webbing of model joints and the polygons, and the code. And he hears the narrator, and a sudden awareness of thinking this isn’t a god, it’s so much more, and it’s ripped away from him.

Seeds of doubt and confusion spread throughout them all, confused to high hell.

Personally I think Tav wouldn’t really recognize themselves as a person, or were they ever really one? Are they just a puppet for this thing, to act out on the stage of this world? Are all there memories false, do they even have a deeper level of consciousness? Sure the others are game characters but they aren’t being controlled like them. A shell, a vessel. Where do they end and the player begin? And will coming to an answer help them, or just doom them to the realization all the suffering and acts happening around them are for the amusement of god like creatures. Dolls, even if they interact with them these creatures seem nice, but they don’t view them as people. Like pets, dolls to dress up and crash their faces together. Did Tav even love their partner, or was it just because the player wanted it to happen?

Just thoughts of existential crisis being a topic of discussion :3

+ Fitz in color!!