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harrysweasleys · 4 years

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to find each other // g.w

summary: Hi love I was wondering if I could request a george x reader. I like the whole like when you're angry or anything write to the person but never send it but one day George finds the love letter. And reader is all embarased and runs away before he can tell her he like her so he writes her a love letter. (Also I'm aware this is a george ask but in my mind fred didnt die. I'm also imagining this before the battle but fred still doesnt die). If this doesnt spark anything that totally fine. Thanks

warnings: mentions of war, blood and death (relax, it aint fredward)

word count: 4.4k

a/n: this request was so cute and i enjoyed writing this so much! also i hope you don’t mind that i changed up the time that it takes place just a tad. also i want a love letter from george, thanks.

[i do not give permission for my work to be reposted to any other platform.]

———————————————————————

No amount of window shopping could hide the anxious bubbling in your stomach. Diagon Alley, though usually one of your favourite places, was currently the cause of your shaky fingers and heavy breathing. It was the last day of summer holidays, and for the countless students returning to Hogwarts, it meant a place to get away from home, a place that they could escape to to get away from the chaos of the real world.

However, for you, it meant that things would get messy. That the raging war that was brewing in the evil corners of the Wizarding World was bound to strike. And strike hard.

Dangers lurked around every corner and even the comforting atmosphere of Diagon Alley was no longer a place you wanted to be. Countless shops were boarded shut, their windows shattered to pieces as if an attack had taken place. Which was most likely the case, if you were being honest.

The only store that seemed to be alive also happened to be the one that you wanted to avoid at all costs. The large purple and orange shop stood practically glowing in the middle of the gloomy alley, music and laughter echoing from the inside. You had to give credit where credit was due; the shop owners were brilliant.

Students piled in and out in dozens — you couldn’t blame them. Fred and George had a knack for making people laugh. And right now, people needed laughs more than ever. You couldn’t blame these young students for stocking up on joke products to keep themselves entertained for the year. Especially since everyone was well aware this may be the last year of ‘normalcy’ that they get.

However, the shop seemed to be doing marvellously. You’d go in to say hi if it wouldn’t crush your entire existence to do so. Slightly dramatic, but true. You hadn’t left things off on a good foot with George, and the last thing you wanted to do was go in there and make things awkward. After all, maybe he had moved on.

The last time you saw him, he held your crumpled note in his hand, his broom in the other, and a proud smile on his face as he waved goodbye to the school behind him. The school in which you two shared some of your best moments, the inside jokes and the late nights giggling into pillows in the dark of the common room.

Until the note.

The one you had written him the night you found out he was leaving. The one with tear drop stains and smudged ink — the one that confessed your long-rooted love for the ginger boy that had stolen your heart the first day you met him.

He had found it himself, actually. It wasn’t “given to him,” per say. He had snuck into the girl’s dorm — how, you still have no clue — and found you crying on your lumpy four-poster, your hair a disheveled mess and your cheeks bright red from sobbing. You had been furious at him. Not because you were mad, but because you’d miss him. Miss his smile, the way he brought light to every boring class, and you’d miss the way he made you feel like home, even though your home home was miles and miles away.

He’d found the messy parchment scrunched up on your dresser and picked it up at the sight of his name. He didn’t let you take it away from him, so you made him promise he’d read it after he was long gone from school. So that you could be saved from the embarrassment of him not feeling the same. The last thing you wanted was to have to sit through the last few months of school with your best friend hating your guts for the unfortunate feelings you had developed.

You thought you were way over him by now, but looking up into the glorious glass windows of his store, you were hit with a wave of nausea. Not because you didn’t want to see him, but because you wanted to see him so badly it was sickening. To be fair, it had only really been two years, but still. Had he missed you? Had he sat there every night, clutching your wrinkled love letter and thinking back to the moments you two shared?

You shook your head and walked past the shop, trying your best not to peer in through the windows and catch sight of the familiar grinning man. He somehow always had a smile on his face and that was something you could really appreciate, especially right now. Nothing ever seemed to bring him down and that was one of the things you appreciated most.

———————————————————————

“What’re you grinning at, Weasley?” you asked, a smile on your own lips as you gave George a teasing look, your hands running through his hair as he sat on the ground between your legs, eyes focused on the common room fire that was slowly burning down to embers.

“Nothing,” he replied, “Just… taking it all in.”

Gryffindor had won the House Cup just that evening, along with the Quidditch Cup just a few days before. You supposed George did actually have quite a bit to smile about, but as he sat there, his eyes slightly dazed and a lazy grin on his lips, something told you it actually had to do with something else.

“Right,” you replied, taking your hands out of his soft hair and leaning back on the couch, “Because I totally believe you.”

He turned around, his smile never faltering, “What? You’re gonna give me a hard time for being in a good mood? C’mon, let me live, woman.”

You tossed your head back, cheeks flushed, “Fine. The day you don’t have a smile on your face is the day I’ll know something’s wrong, yeah?”

Sitting up and crashing next to you on the couch, he gave you quite the exaggerated nod before dropping it and gazing softly into your eyes, “Around you, how can anything ever be wrong?”

———————————————————————

Popping in and out of stores seemed to be the best distraction — Quidditch Supplies, Pets, Quills, the best Parchment in town — all stores that you remember running in and out of while you were just a wee child, hoping to buy the top quality items for another long year at school.

You’d been so distracted by the sound of children laughing and charging by you that you barely registered the fact that you had walked into a tall body. Luckily, your balance hadn’t been knocked over, but you had been walking at such a quick pace that you’re surprised the other person didn’t go falling backwards.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, looking up and catching your step, nearly losing it completely as your eyes caught sight of the person in front of you.

Eyes still golden like the sun, George Weasley hadn’t changed. His hair was slightly longer and he wore nicer clothing — perks of running your own business — but he hadn’t changed a day. His lips were still a deep pink, and the freckles on his cheek seemed to be more prominent than you remember.

“Y/N?” the corners of his lips turned up into a smile, “Bloody hell, what are you doing here?”

You stared up, mind completely blank, “Oh — It’s — I’ve gotta go.”

His hand shot out to grab your wrist, his fingers leaving a touch of sparks in their wake. You snapped it away, rubbing over the skin to soothe the electrifying touch that George left behind. Even years later, he still had that effect on you, and you wished more than anything that you could curse him out for it.

“Y/N, blimey, wait, let’s catch up,” he shrugged, eyes pleading, “What’re you running from? We were best friends. I’ve missed you. It’s been two bloody years, woman.”

“You know damn well why that changed,” you grumbled, trying your best to look anywhere but his inviting eyes. You knew that if you made eye contact, you’d be sucked right back into whatever hold he had on you while you were in school. You weren’t sure you could deal with that right about now.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, “Look, Y/N, please. Just stay for a few minutes. Come see the shop, yeah? Reckon Fred’ll be thrilled to see you.”

You gave in and looked up at him, already knowing you wouldn’t be able to say no. He was right, you guys were best friends. You were inseparable. They always say catching feelings for your best friend is a beautiful thing, but in your case it felt like the worst thing to happen. You fell head over heels for George and he had no clue. He continued living his life, continued doing the things he loved, and then he left.

You only hoped the letter kept him up at night. As petty as that was.

“Fine,” you let out a deep breath, “Just a few minutes.”

You nearly missed the wide grin that spread across his face, showcasing the beautiful smile that still managed to leave your chest in a fluttery mess. You internally scolded yourself — you weren’t over your feelings and chances are this was going to make things worse.

The shop was magnificent. Shelves lined the walls as far as the eye could see. And even though Diagon Alley was nearly deserted, the shop seemed to be thriving — not that you were surprised. Kids and young adults huddled in groups to gawk and stare at the latest products, eyeing everything with keen interest as George’s twin, Fred, explained to them how things worked.

“You did good,” you smiled up at George, all hostility towards him fading as the bubbly atmosphere of the shop engulfed you, making you feel as if you were transported back to your childhood, “I’m proud of you guys.”

“Blimey,” George grinned, placing his hand on your shoulder, “Didn’t think I’d ever hear you say that.”

Your smile faded and you turned away from him, cheeks burning at his comment.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he spun you back around to face him, “I just meant because it’s been so long since I’ve seen you. Wasn’t sure I’d ever see you again, to be honest.”

You bit your lip, nodding slowly, “I know. I’m sorry. It was just so hard to work up the courage to see you.”

You weren’t exactly lying. After what happened, you couldn’t find it in yourself to face him. But that wasn’t the whole truth, really. Your courage and confidence had left with him, there was no way you’d be able to come here and see him happy with someone else. Someone that wasn’t you.

“I actually have something for you,” he held his finger up and rushed out of sight, up the stairs and through a door. You stood awkwardly, debating whether you should just turn around and walk out of the store and into the city. He’d never be able to track you down. But, somehow, you couldn’t bring yourself to move your feet. You were grounded in the moment, still gazing at all the trinkets and items around you.

Some made noise, some were brightly coloured — some of them even looked like that evil witch Headmistress Umbridge. You stifled a laugh, remembering the times you and the twins had narrowly escaped her wicked grasp. She was not one for fun, that was certain.

———————————————————————

“Down here!” you called, grabbing George’s hand and running down another dark corridor, Filch’s footsteps still echoing behind the two of you.

“When I catch ya, you’ll be expelled!” his grimy voice reached your ears, sending you into another fit of giggles as you linked your fingers with George’s, the two of you barreling down the stairs and continuing your run up to the Gryffindor tower. You had to admit, it was quite far, but if you kept up this speed, Filch and his limp wouldn’t be able to catch up.

“Wait, there’s a prefect,” George whispered through his heavy breathing, giving your hand a heavy tug and pulling you behind a pillar.

Your body fell against his, the two of you squished in a tiny space as you heard the distant voice of the Ravenclaw prefect approaching your hiding spot. George’s breathing was heavy, his chest rubbing against yours with each inhale he took. Your breathing would be heavy if you weren’t having heart palpitations, his body so close to yours you couldn’t think straight.

“Reckon that’s another narrow escape,” he chuckled, breath fanning your face. You couldn’t bring yourself to make eye contact, way too caught off guard to properly process his words.

Did he realize what this did to you? This closeness, this intimacy?

It was undoubtedly true — you were falling for your best friend.

———————————————————————

“Well, if it isn’t Y/N Y/L/N,” Fred sauntered over, hands in his pockets and a bright grin on his face, “What brings you to our little corner of the wizarding world?”

He brought his arms out for an embrace; one that you gladly accepted. He was warm and familiar, and you felt a grin spread across your face.

“It’s nice to see you, Freddie,” you pulled away, “You guys have really blown me away with all of this.”

“Well, what can I say?” he shrugged, tips of his ears turning slightly pink, “We’ve clearly got a knack for entrepreneurship.”

You shook your head, laughter bubbling in your chest. You always knew they’d be successful — hell, you told them a million times — but seeing it in person after all these years of shutting yourself away, it sort of felt like a dream. As if you’d missed quite possibly the biggest event of their lives.

And you felt like a horrible friend.

“Sorry I wasn’t more supportive,” you said softly, “I really am impressed.”

He lifted his hand and ruffled your hair, “Don’t be so hard on yourself. We knew you always had your full support.”

Before you could respond, George came rushing back down the stairs. You were rather thankful for it, as your conversation with Fred was causing your emotions to come through. You could feel your throat closing in and the familiar sting of tears in your eyes, but George’s presence caused your feelings to shift.

He nudged his brother away and stood in front of you, an envelope in hand. On the front of it, your name was scribbled in swirly handwriting — George’s, you recognized — and you could see the faint outline of parchment inside it.

“What’s this?” you asked, taking the envelope from his hands as he shoved it in your direction, his cheeks a tad pinker than before.

He let out a deep breath, “You’ll see when you open it.”

You nodded, placing the envelope gently into your purse, “I’ll open it when I’m home.”

“Okay,” he responded instantly, shoving his hands into his pockets. You knew it was a nervous habit of his, and it raised a question as to what could possibly be in that envelope that had him so on edge.

“I’ve, uh, I’ve gotta get going,” you said, your voice barely audible. But by the way George’s shoulders slouched, you knew he heard you. He took his hands out of his pockets and pulled you in for a hug.

Without thinking, you wrapped your arms tightly around him, resting your head on his shoulder and taking in a deep breath. He smelled the same as he did all those years ago, and although he was the same height, he also definitely felt a lot stronger.

Lifting boxes on a daily basis has taken its toll.

You couldn’t count how many hugs you’d shared with George during your time at Hogwarts, but something about this hug felt different. It felt final, conclusive. As if you both knew that this would be the final time you’d get to see each other.

“I’ve missed you,” he said, mouth mere inches from your ear.

“I’ve missed you too,” you replied right away, pulling your body away from his to look into his eyes. You tried your best to force a smile, but it most likely only came off as a grimace. After all, you couldn’t find anything to feel enthusiastic about in the moment.

You leaned up and pressed a kiss to his warm cheek, letting your hand linger on his arm for a second longer than intended, before pulling away and leaving the store without another word.

It was safe, and very unfortunate, to say your feelings were still very much present.

———————————————————————

You stared down at the paper, stunned. It was possibly your seventh time reading it and you still couldn’t believe it.

After all these years, he felt the same.

George Weasley felt the same.

You lifted the letter, once again preparing yourself to read it, wiping your eyes with an already soaked tissue.

Y/N,

I don’t know much about writing letters with a romantic goal, but I do know that I couldn’t leave yours unanswered. There were too many things left in the air, and I might never even get to give this to you, but it’s worth writing anyways.

I remember the first day we met. Do you remember? We were in second year and you fell down the stairs onto Freddie. You were so cute, and so flustered. It was nearly immediately after that that we became friends, if I remember correctly. (Which I always do.)

Skip forward a few years and you practically owned my heart and soul. I barely went a moment without thinking of you. Of your smile, of your laugh, of your hair and your face. You know, I did it on purpose. All the jokes, they were for you. To make you laugh. Bloody cliche, I know. But that’s the truth, love.

When I left school, it was hard. Not because I’d have to start a whole new life, but because I’d have to start that life without you. Without your constant positivity and your radiance. It was nearly impossible, but you were so proud. So proud of Freddie and me that I knew I couldn’t let you down.

But I did. I left you there, in that horrid place with that toad woman. And I regret that to this day. I read your note every day. I still do. It’s the only thing of yours that I have in my life and I cherish it more than you know.

So, this note kind of has no purpose, but it does have a point. The point is that I love you too. That I’ve loved you for a long time, and chances are that I always will. You’re the best part of me and that’ll never change.

Please take care. And I hope we get to find each other.

Yours forever,

George.

You read it again, and again, and again, and could barely process the words on the tattered parchment. It was a pretty neat piece, which indicated that there was no way he wrote two years ago. It had to be recent — within the last year. And the fact that he decided to give it to you now meant that he might even still feel this way.

With the amount of times you envisioned George professing his undying love to you, not once did you think it would be in these circumstances. With the two of you living different lives.

You went to bed that night, the note tucked under your pillow. You couldn’t part with it. Even though you had no clue what to do about said note, you didn’t want to let go of it. It was true, and all these years later you finally realized it. All the shared touches, the laughs, the smiles across classrooms; it all made sense. Not only were you falling hopelessly in love with your best friend, but he was doing the exact same thing.

And I hope we get to find each other.

If that meant what you thought — what you hoped — it meant, then maybe there was a chance for you. But for that chance to happen, you had a lot that you needed to sort out. What would this mean? Would you two start from scratch?

You hadn’t exactly had any sort of relationship over the past two years, how would you just jump into something like this? Maybe him giving you the letter was his form of closure, his way of telling you that maybe it could have happened, but now there’s no chance.

You didn’t want to dwell, but there was no way you couldn’t. How does one let something like this go? You can’t. You can’t go back to living a normal life with this knowledge hanging over your head.

He loved you.

If only there was a way you could talk to him, clear the air. Maybe he did still feel the same.

———————————————————————

Hogwarts was, to put it kindly, in the middle of chaos. Spells of bright green and red shot out from every which direction, hitting columns and occasionally, other bodies. You passed lifeless bodies on the ground and couldn’t bring yourself to look down. Some of them you might even recognize, and that wasn’t something you could bring yourself to feel right about now. Your emotions were running wild enough as it is; the last thing you needed was to find the body of someone you loved.

Your wand was tightly gripped in your hand, your mouth repeating the same spells over and over as Death Eaters continued to swarm the homely school grounds. You had called this place ‘home’ for seven years and yet now, it was the last possible place you wanted to be. You wanted to turn around and run, never to look over your shoulder again.

But you couldn’t.

There was no way you could bring yourself to leave. Not now.

“Well, what ‘ave we got ‘ere?”

You spun on the spot, coming face to face with the sunken eyes of a Death Eater. His voice sounded awfully familiar, but that was really the least of your problems right about now. His wand was raised in your direction, his lips already beginning to move.

You raised your own wand, ready to fire out the first spell you could think of. But the man went flying back into the wall before you could even open your mouth. You gaped down at your wand, trying to figure out how the hell you managed to do that without even thinking of the spell.

“Reckon that’s about the fourth time I’ve saved you.”

You turned to the sound of the voice, recognizing it immediately. George’s hair was tousled like crazy, and he had a bandage tightly wound around his head. You could see faint blood where his ear should be, and your heart did a quick flip in your chest. You had heard about his accident — you had run into Ginny in the Great Hall, but seeing his wound and his face in person brought an unsettling feeling to your chest.

“George,” you sighed, running over to him without a second doubt. You jumped up, wrapping your arms around his neck tightly, squeezing harder than you thought. But he didn’t seem to mind, his arms finding their way around your waist and holding you up, his head finding its spot in the crook of your neck as he let out a low chuckle. You could feel the warmth of his skin, and in that moment, he felt so real. As if two years apart had never happened. As if everything said between you two in your letters was unspoken, but acknowledged.

You pulled your head away from his shoulder and looked into his eyes. The eyes that had been a comfort source in your life for so many years. As if looking into them brought out all of your confidence, you gave him a shy smile before leaning down and pressing your lips against his.

You immediately pulled away from him before either of you could register the action, letting yourself fall back down to your feet as you looked up into his eyes. He didn’t blink, his mouth hanging open.

Maybe you made a terrible mistake.

“Oh, I’m sorry—”

You were cut off by his hands on each side of your face, pulling you in for a second kiss. One that lasted much longer.

His lips were incredibly soft against yours, moulding as if this was the place they were meant to be. Your hands went up into his hair, giving a small tug as he pulled your body closer to his. It was as if all the war and death around you two didn’t exist — the only thing you could focus on was George’s warmth and the eruption of butterflies that went off in your body.

After what felt like hours, you pulled away and looked up at him. His lips were swollen and red, his breathing slightly uneven, but he looked happy.

“That was long overdue,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

You let out a breathy laugh, “Definitely.”

———————————————————————

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s4ijoh · 4 years

Text

heaven is a place on earth. atsumu miya

ATSUMU MIYA X GN! READER

GENRE: domestic; slice of life; just a comfort piece

WORD COUNT: 1.6k+

WARNINGS: established relationship; mentions of stress; atsumu is a tease (yes, it deserves a warning), + heavy imagery, i enjoy setting the mood

coming home to atsumu after an exhausting day…

you are greeted with a welcoming warmth engulfing your body once you step into atsumu’s apartment. it is rather quiet inside, other than the static buzzing noise coming from the living room at the end of the corridor - you remember atsumu complaining about how the television signal gets worse on days like this.

the homely environment felt inside the dimly lit apartment instantly comforts you, providing you with a shelter from the hostile weather outside. the orange lighting creates a cozy atmosphere in stark contrast to grey sky outdoors, covered in a thick layer of clouds - a prevailing threat that it should start to rain at any moment.

while kicking off your shoes, after you’re done getting rid of the layers of clothing that were weighing on your body, you wonder if you should accept, at last, atsumu’s offer to move in with him. despite the fact that this place was not your actual house, it sure did feel like coming home whenever you walked in. it was, indeed, your safe haven, not only from the weather outside but from the world. as soon as you set a foot inside this place, all your concerns seem to be washed away.

you figured it must have been the weather to further instigate your current bad mood but you can’t put aside the thought that today, everything seems to be working against you and there is nothing more you crave than to sit in the comfort of atsumu’s presence and forget all about the trivial things plaguing your mind.

oddly enough, you are not greeted with his familiar face peeking through the door of the living room, his lips stretching into a beamy smile as he excitedly yells your name upon seeing you, as it is usual. however, although your boyfriend is nowhere to be seen, his presence is felt throughout the whole apartment.

the place is charged with traces of him - from the sweet but manly scent of his perfume lingering faintly in the air, to his keys with the small pendant you bought tossed carelessly next to a framed picture of the two of you, on top of the entry table as well as osamu’s coat that atsumu never returned because he claimed it suited him better anyway, hung on the doorknob of his room.

it is also hard not to notice the different pairs of slippers scattered along the wooden floor of the entry hall however, you have grown so familiar with the sight that you would have paid no mind to it if it weren’t for you tripping over one of the long forgotten pairs of fuzzy slippers. what otherwise would have looked like slouchiness only made the place feel more inviting. you have grown acquainted with the chaos, learned to embrace even, it’s familiarity never failed to put you at ease - in the end, everything was just on it’s right place.

atsumu is clumsier than he looks. he whined about how every new set of slippers he bought would go missing within a week, only for him to purchase a new set and for you to find the previous lost pair somewhere under a piece of furniture which resulted in the eclectic collection of slippers he owns to this day.

walking across the hall, you come to a halt once you reach the living room, waiting for a frowning atsumu to notice you leaning against the doorway whilst he presses on the buttons of the tv remote in a frenzy on yet another hopeless attempt to get the television to miraculously start working - the “no signal” alert on the screen won’t disappear no matter how many times or how rough he hits the buttons on the remote, you have been over this many times with him.

“you never know” he would answer adamantly, with his brows raised in mock defiance. how naive, desperate times require desperate measures, you suppose.

a small giggle erupts from your chest capturing atsumu’s attention, his head snapping in your direction as his lips almost instantly stretch into bright smile - it was his body’s intuitive reaction whenever he laid eyes on you. atsumu calls out for you, dragging on the last syllable of your name in enthusiasm and you can’t help the grin, albeit weak, that crawls its way up to your lips. he could always steal a smile from you, no matter how tired you were.

upon noticing the clear exhaustion on your features, his broad smile morphs into a sympathetic pout as he tosses the remote on the cushions next to him, stretching his arms wide open for you, inviting you in with a quiet “get over here”

you drag yourself to the the checkered sofa where atsumu is sitting, awaiting you, to gladly accept his offer. and just like magnetic attraction, your body falls limp into his embrace, finding solace in his arms as you slump down on his lap with a relieved sob.

atsumu is left to deal with the dead weight of your body on top of him yet instead of complaining, he embraces you just tight enough to earn a quiet squeal from you, your head lifting itself from it’s comfortable spot snuggled against the warm skin of his neck only for you to shoot him a glare.

“where’s my kiss” atsumu taps his lips twice with his index finger to which you bend your head down to comply with his request.

honestly, how could you have forgotten. exhaustion really must have got the best of you because there was nothing more you had craved throughout the whole day than to feel his lips against yours, you could really use a kiss or two - or maybe a few - right now. however, you barely have the chance to connect your lips with his before atsumu is pinching your nose, prompting you to withdraw.

“your lips are freezing cold!” he whines in response to the inquisitive look on your face, his eyes wide in a rather theatrical manner. your boyfriend’s melodramatic behaviour has you rolling your eyes back in annoyance before you lean back in only for atsumu to cover your mouth with the palm of him hand.

“needy are we? rough day, pretty girl?” he teases with a taunting grin plastered on that frustratingly pretty face of his.

“go to hell, atsumu. just kiss me already” if only you weren’t this tired and atsumu wasn’t looking this tempting, maybe you could’ve kept the frustration from overflowing for you knew how he would pick on your helplessness only to keep teasing you and test the effect he had on you. and, you hate to admit that you have no restraint when it comes to him but, truth is, there is not much you can endure until you give in to atsumu and he manages to get you right where he wants you - you were always so pliant on his hands, he found it endearing to say the least.

trying your luck yet again, you hesitantly brush your lips against his, looking up at him through your lashes. you move carefully, almost as if you’re lurking on a prey, keeping a close watch on his face as you knew all it took was a false step for him to get away.

“you didn’t answer me” and just like that he pulls away from you, his voice cutting through the silence and ruining the mood, much to your dismay.

“yes, i had a rough day and you’re not making it any better, ‘tsumu” you spit the words out, although you reckon your tone was sorta harsh you are fuming at this point. on days like this, where it almost feels like it is your body’s basic need to feel him close to you, there is nothing you wouldn’t do for a kiss of his and he truly wasn’t helping you feel any better. two could play this game but you don’t even have the strength to put up a fight and taunt him back, wishing he would just give in to you as easily as you give in to him.

“so eager, i must be one hell of a kisser” he whispers against your lips. atsumu is having too much fun playing this little game of cat and mouse, repeatedly dodging your every move as you chase after his lips. if you didn't know any better, you would almost say it was taking every fiber on his being to hold himself back by the way he is ogling your lips.

“tell me, baby, do you want to feel my lips against yours that bad, hm?”

“yes, can you kiss me now?” your straightforwardness catches him off guard, earning a chuckle from your boyfriend as he tilts his head to kiss you on the cheek, dropping the act at last.

“no need to be mad, baby, patient girls get whatever they want” he grabs your cheeks, squishing them together and proceeds to place a quick peck on your pout before he slumps back against the couch, resting his arms over the lenght of the back of the couch.

“come get your kiss” he says in defiance with a wicked smirk which has you narrowing your eyes.

you lean forward cautiously, trying to understand what is the catch here, though he doesn’t even flinch when you crawl your way to wrap your arms around his neck. it is when you let your guard down, wearing the smile of victory as you lean in for a kiss that atsumu dodges you once again but he doesnt even give you time to complain before he is gripping your waist and tugging you into his chest before he crashes his lips into yours.

oh and was it worth the wait. atsumu could take you to heaven and beyond with just a simple innocent kiss. you feel like you’re soaring the sky and now you never want to come back down to earth ever again. you could argue that he is not perfect but, despite all his flaws, atsumu is still a true angel in disguise.

[a/n]: honestly i made atsumu’s character out to be messier than i imagine him to be but, i had this really cute picture in my head of a v v cozy house with lots of slippers scattered all over + had these flirty dialogue prompts written down & decided to put them together and thought atsumu fitted the role perfectly so yea!

this aint nothing special, just a good ol’ domestic au! but i hope you all enjoy what i have come up with after i’ve been neglecting writing for a whole month now <33

+ next batch is soulmate au! mattsun!!

#atsumu miya #atsumu miya x reader #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu imagine #atsumu miya imagine #miya atsumu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagine

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steadydetectiveengineer · 3 years

Text

what if ranboo headcanon go brr (plus backstory since i got carried away)

- ranboo used to be an enderman forever (endermen are immortal in the timespan sense) - he longed to have friends his whole life when he was full enderman, but could never look at anyone without accidentally hurting them (developed a fear of hurting people), and other endermen didnt seem to talk much, or at all. he never had a friend growing up - he traveled the world looking for a cure from of enderman instincts (forced to kill by eye contact), but mostly he just felt less alone when he was always exploring (eventually discovered that as long as he had a helmet the rain wouldnt hurt him) - BACKSTORY STARTS HERE: ranboo went to a nether ruin once and almost died. he was actually supposed to die but a spirit told him that he would be brought back to life because ranboo was kind and didnt steal anythin from the ruin. ranboo begged to be brought back with the ability to see others without killing them out of his control. the spirit agreed, but under a few conditions. - they said something along the lines of "in this world of nature, the laws of equivalent exchange are everywhere. its the reason everything in nature happens to be balanced. it would be impossible for you to go your whole life without taking another life if you didn't have this power, and unfortunately the opposite of the ability to give mercy is to kill. if i give you this power and you kill no one for the rest of your life, it would set nature out of balance. i will give you a month to kill one creature out of your own will, without the curse of your eyes. after this month you will be granted your wish. if you fail you will not only gain a lifespan, but you will be forced to kill the one closest to you to make up for the future lives that you have the ability to spare." ranboo was nervous, but agreed since he hated the idea of being forced to kill for the rest of his life. - for the first week ranboo kept travelling, trying to build up the will to kill creatures he came across, but couldnt bring himself to do it. he eventually gave up, accepting the fate of being forced to kill. he thought that one more time of killing without free will would make up for the live he would save in the future, and he was used to accidentally taking lives even if it hurt him. - timeskip to a few days passing, he meets a blind fox in a spruce forest. it wasnt just blind though, it was hurt. it's eyes were scratched out and it was bleeding under the shadow of a tree. ranboo carried it to a temorary campsite he made in a small cave and tended to its wounds. the fox still didnt have eyes, but ranboo stopped the bleeding and eventually a scab grew overnight. in hopes that it would hurt less, ranboo ripped a peice of cloth from his leather shirt that a villager traded with him long ago, (warily though, endermen were known to be very hostile,) and wrapped it gently around the fox's head, just so the whiskers were still out but the scab was safe. he was happy he got to help a creature before the inevitability he had to face, so he felt a little better about the future. he packed his few things and set off to keep travelling, but something rubbed at his ankle. the foxes ears perked up at his footsteps and ran towards the sound, nuzzling ranboo's pant leg as if begging to come with him. - "bud, you gotta stay in the forest, its not safe where i'm going," ranboo explained in a pitiful yet sincere voice, trying to say it in a tone that the fox would hopefully understand. the fox persisted, facing the source of ranboo's voice and tilting its head. he had a hard time rejecting the fox, especially since this was the first creature who wasn't immediately scared of him. the first creature who... cared about him. ranboo folded, "alright, but if you're coming along you bet im keeping you safe. ill call you... bandanna! you cool with that?" the fox stood up abruptly wagging his tail after ranboo finished talking in his cheerful tone. - for the next week or so, ranboo and bandanna traveled across mountains and valleys, oceans and plains, pretty much wherever the world led them. from time to time, ranboo made sure to wash the cloth and and wrap it back around bandanna's head to keep him safe. bandanna was stealthy and affectionate, and ranboo was resourceful and curious. as long as they had each other, they were safe. ranboo would always protect bandanna. - in the last week of the month he had before the curse, ranboo realized he was fully content living beside the first creature he could call a friend. they settled down for a while in the desert, with only the occasional rabbit passing by their newly built hut. bandanna often sat on ranboo's lap when he was making maps of their journey routes, and ranboo often watched bandanna chase rabbits for food. (well, almost, ranboo actually couldnt stand the sight, but was still happy he didnt have to kill anything when bandanna did it himself.) it was quiet, but a peaceful one. at this point he didn't care about the future, in fact he had completely forgotten that he was looking for a "cure" in the first place. that was his first mistake. - ranboo had promised to keep bandanna safe, and he always made sure of it. the last day of the month rolled around. ranboo woke up one evening at dawn outside the house, nearby the crops he planted earlier. it was strange, that ranboo could have sworn he washed the beet juice off of his hands, but there it was. - almost stained in the logs surrounding him in the crop area. almost stained. ranboo found this peculiar, as he fell asleep hours ago. one would think if he was working with beet juice, it would have dried by now. he stood up, no longer looking under him, he saw the trail of... beet juice that followed his spot... coming from the hut. the door was open. he never left the door open. - alarmed, he stood up quickly. well, he tried. a massive headache washed over him as he collapsed back to the floor. his left arm, why was it fading to pure white? not only was it his arm, but the color seemed to climb up his shoulder and neck. the realization hit him like a freezing arrow. "the curse," he whispered to himself. his breath grew shaky and cold. "no. no way. no, no, no, NO-" ranboo ran, tripping through the dim desert and back on the damp, crimson trail towards the hut. "it can't be." but it was. the red was much clearer on the hardwood. - he dropped to his knees. the tears mixed with the blood pooling from a battered friend. the blood was almost dry now. ranboo promised. he said he would always keep bandanna safe, yet there he was, life drained into the floors. unable to comprehend what had happened, ranboo cradled bandanna's fragile body in his arms. "...bud? i- i just planted some beets! i think you'd like them. please, stay with me. we havent even seen the rest of the world yet- i... havent finished the maps." bandanna didnt keep him warm. his tail didn't flinch in the slightest. - timeskip to sitting by bandanna's grave. it was raining, but it didnt hurt him. ranboo wished he could take it all back. he didn't even care about the curse anymore. he just wanted to see his friend again. he only ever wanted a friend that he didnt just scare away or hurt. he came to the conclusion that the curse just was him, and that no matter what he did, he ended up hurting everyone around him. - he may have been able to look into others eyes now, but the only thing that mattered about ranboo's eyes were that they got to see bandanna chasing animals, or playing with string. or asking to follow him across the world again. AAAAND RIGHT BACK TO HEADCANON NOTES: - ranboo ended up never killing anyone willingly in his life, but still caused the losses of lives when he was an enderman - introverted, scared of scaring others away, he was impressionable bc he never really got the chance to talk to anyone so he sort of bended to peer pressure and felt he had no choice but to listen to what others told him - rain doesnt actually hurt him anymore, he was just so used to wearing a helmet when it rained that it felt more comfortable to always wear one - also why he stays neutral is bc he doesnt want anyone to scare anyone away, he's kind to everyone because friendship is insanely valuable to him after being alone for so long - irl ranboo quote (along the lines of it at least idk); techno: "whats your favorite word, ranboo" ranboo: "friendship" - he also tries to help others to make up for all he's done, even though he's never willfully hurt anyone

#ik bandanna is a dumb name stfu #also why did i search up the right spelling for bandanna like 3 times-#like docs corrected me when i spelt bandana #but the word bandanna looks uglier #man idk i just wanted to write a headcanon not a fic goodness #ranboo #dsmp ranboo #dsmpblr #textpost #help i have so much homework due and this is the only thing my adhd let me focus on #yes this is my first fanfic B)#no wonder its so messy goodness #anyways hello tag readers :)

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fipindustries · 4 years

Text

Mouth Dreams analysis

MOUTH DREAMS

I dont even need to introduce to you the marvelous mash up works of neil cicierega’s mouth trilogy (now quadrilogy i guess). We all know them, we all love them and we all have our own interpretations of what they mean. For some merely musical shitposting, for others clever experimentation laden with phrases, leivmotifs and themes repeating here and there, and for many a deep and rich bounty of lore, hidden messages, subtextual stories and underlying narratives implied across multiple variations of all star, hidden in the meta data and uncovered only after doing spectrographic analysis on the soundwaves of the songs after being played at x0.000003 times the speed. It is usually understood that all the albums together form a unique and rich tapestry, a coherent whole that can be understood in its totality. Im not here to do that.

I came up with my own interpretation of what Mouth Dreams can be read as, independent from the other albums. Think of it as me presenting this entry as the soundtrack of a musical with its own self contained story. It is the interpretation that i chose to go by and i hope its understood the brilliance of these albums lies on how weird and vague and open ended they are such that any number of different readings can be extracted from them. So lets see the one i extracted, without further ado, lets begin.

Yahoo

It is an out of context, in media res, start for the whole story. We hear a voice, echoing in the void, yelling at the top of its lungs, reaching desperately for human conection. One form of looking at this song is that the voice only receives an empty response from its own echoes, but i dont take it like that. The song is too sublime and too beautiful for these, the notes soaring too high, the desperate plead is being answered. Someone is listening to the plead and answering right back, harmonizing.

This whole album is in a way that howl, reaching to others, and we the audience are answering back, listening. But also on another level, this whole album is the protagonist telling the tragic story of his own life to some sympathetic figure who wants to help, perhaps a therapist, perhaps a friend, perhaps a partner, we’ll see. And as the yelling subsides the story starts proper.

Mouth dreams (intro)

We are being slowly taken into the story, entering the psyche of the main character, entering their subconscious, their dreams, their memories and therefore, their past. We’ll see what life they led and how they ended up where they are now and we start right at his infancy with….

Spongerock

Spongebob is a great indicator that we are seeing this person’s early childhood. They seem to be a rambunctious and energetic child. Cheerful and enthusiastic, yet there seems to be some underlying aggression there. The music is a bit to strong, and in comes freddy mercury berating the poor kid “you’ve got mud on your face, you big disgrace”. Who is this entity being so hostile to a poor kid? What lies beneath that image of a happy kid? We are about to see on the next song.

Just a baby

This is where trouble starts. We are treated to a dramatic song about a poor young baby who seems to be having a pretty sad life. Justin bieber, former teen idol, keeps lamenting about the poor baby being stuck in baby jail. This song is very much about loss of innocence. A shadowy figure of the mother is introduced who tells the protagonist to be a good boy. And almost at the end of the song we get a suggestion of what’s so wrong on this poor kid’s life. His mother apparently “shot a man in reno”. We dont know if this is a literal thing the mother did or if this is a metaphor for the mother doing something horrible, commiting some crime, harming someone in some way. While its not clarified we see strong hints of what the mother could have done in the next song

Superkiller

As we worry what may be so wrong with this kid’s mother we come across the title for this song, ominous. Now in the original Psycho killer the killer was clearly the singer, but in here the song is twisted and turned a bit, recontextualized by the beats of “cant touch this”. It seems like this time is the singer the one who doesnt want to be touched by some nefarious figure (the mother? Is the mother a psycho killer?) maybe the kid saw the mother killing people “i dont like people when they’re on fire”. whatever the case might be the kid is clearly strung up and under a lot of stress and we are introduced to the first hint of the insomnia that will plague this persons life who cant sleep because “my bed’s on fire”. The horrible situation in which this kid is living is taking a severe toll on their mental health. How is he going to cope with this?

Get happy

I think everyone can agree that “come on get happy” is incredibly unnerving when mindlessly repeated over and over. A first read might suggest the kid is forced to put on a happy face, to pretend that there is nothing wrong going on with their life. But as the song progresses it could also be interpreted as the kid being tempted to find refuge from the horror by unsavory methods “get happy” as in acquire happiness of a forced and artificial kind, perhaps drugs. But also “we’ll make you happy”. The kid is not running into a rabbit hole on their own, they are being invited. Its possible that the kid is being seduced by a bad crowd to move into seedy circles as an escape from their life.

Ribs

In here we see the kid, probably a young teenager by this point as suggested by the use of marylin manson in this song, falling deep into debauchery. The specific kind is not needed to know, it could be drugs, it could be sexual experimentation, it could be criminality. Point is this is unhealthy and dangerous and depraved, emphasized by the title of the song “ribs” as a reference to the rumor that marilyn manson removed two of his ribs in order to perform autofellatio. Whatever the case it clearly works, the song is actually a great bop, energetic and upbeat, the kid is content with the situation, at least for a while…

My mouth

This song is the coming down from the high. In here we see at full blast how the life of depravity on the one side and their situation at home on the other have turned the character into a hardcore insomniac, their health is severy compromised “My eyes feel like they're gonna bleed

Dried up and bulging out my skull”. Another way to read this song is as we momentarily cutting back to the present. After all, what we have been seeing until now has been dreams/memories and this is a short look at the wreck that the person is as a grown up, stirring awake from their memories and trying desperately to forget or to go back to sleep where they can have a reprieve. As evidenced by the next song

Aerolong

I dont wanna miss a thing is completely turned on its head. As the lyrics clearly demonstrate is the protagonist who cant go to sleep being chased by their memories, specifically the memories of their mother “I don't miss you, babe, and I do want to miss a thing”. As the person is tossing and turning on their bed, unable to sleep they talk about how they dont miss their mother at all and they want to “miss” her as in they want to forget her.

Sleepin’

The character is constantly speaking about how they are “sleeping with their clothes on” this is due to them falling asleep during their everyday life because of their lack of sleep every night, this person is barely functional, their sleep schedule is broken. Also since this song is about the character actually sleeping it also works as a bridge back into their dreams and so into their past.

Aammoorree

Is another vignette about the character sinking into disreputable states in order to escape their shitty situation as a teenager, this time very specifically about being completely drunk and perhaps experiencing romance for the first time. The character is probably at a club or a party, drunkenly hitting on someone, though chances are without much success as the song becomes increasingly more incoherent and we go into a full black out. This gets bad enough that the person finally has to take a look and….

Where is my mom

….stop. It is highly suggestive that in the album the “stop” is part of this song rather than the last one. The person is not only stopping their current alcoholic binge. They are stopping the entire situation and taking a good look at their life, finally confronting face to face what is happening and why it is so wrong. Now “stacy’s mom” was always kind of an inappropriate song due to it being about a child having a crush on their friend’s mom, as sung by an adult. But as it is recontextualized by the instruments of “where is my mind” it takes on a much darker tone. The romantic words are still there but now with a sinister bent. This time the main character asks their friend if they can go and take refuge at their house and when they ask if the mom is going to be there they sound more scared than eager, specially suggested by the way he seems to be stammering the word “pool”, they are nervous and terrified. They also talk about stacy’s mom as “all they want and been waiting for so long”, probably because all they want is a normal, loving mother. Presumably this song is about the main character finally talking about what is going on at his house with a friend, confessing and that confession gives way to realization

Fredhammer

Then realization gives way to anger. During this whole song we see the teenage character finally grasping how fucked up the whole situation is and he gets progressively more worked up with each successive aggravation “Why did it take so long? Why (hoo!), did I wait so long, huh?

Why??? To figure it out, but I did it (huh?)”. From this we transition to the kid actually confronting their mom face to face. The line “So you can take that cookie And stick it up your (yeah!)” can be read as the mother trying to pretend there is nothing wrong or pacifying the kid with empty gestures of motherhood, by making cookies and the kid spitting that back into their face. The kid gets more and more worked up through the song as we seamlessly transition to the next one.

Limp Wicket

This song is pure incoherent chaos but something very important can be rescued out of the chaos. This song uses the lyrics from the “ewok celebration” which is presumably the song the ewoks sing in return of the jedi after the empire was defeated. So in a way is the kid celebrating that he finally confronted their mother and presumably defeated her. This is emphazised by the recurrence of the lyrics ““So you can take that cookie”. Is not specified how the mother is defeated, maybe social services or the police get involved, maybe the kid runs away, either way this song is triumphant. The evil entity that stole his childhood and innocence has been defeated.

Cannibals

This song is slightly different from the rest. It works as a form of victory lap after the defeat of the mother figure, but also as an intermission since it lies smack dab in the middle of the album, and finally as a transitionary song from childhood to adulthood. Is a time skip, we get to see the person grow up in fast forward as the THX song hits its crescendo. This song also makes it perfectly clear that, even though she was left behind, the mental scars that the mother left are still there and still fresh and still very much stopping them from sleeping “She drives me crazy

And I can't help myself”.

The outsiders

This works as a way to recontextualize us in the life of the character as an adult. Our so called “feature presentation”. It is not altogether clear who these people being introduced are. They could be the people who came to mean something in this persons life as they grew up after trauma, probably multiple foster homes, social workers, friends, bosses, co workers, etc. the fact that they are being enumerated dissapasionatly could indicate how most of his social relationships were basically a meaningless blur for him who grew up socially distant due to trauma. It could also represent the multiple roles that our character was forced to take as they grew up and the multiple things that went through his mind or meant something. There is clearly some desperate attempts to recapture their lost childhood as figures such as “inspector gadget” or “the ninja turtles part three” are named. The song is a fast montage of views and places. That prepares us for the next song.

Johnny

We finally zoom in and take a good look at our main character as an adult. A sad, pathetic figure, hurt and lonely, possibly not very well liked and certainly not respected as we hear boos all around. Despite all this the character is clearly committing themselves to be a good person, to not hurt others like he was hurt and specifically to not commit the same crimes that their mother commited.

Closerflies & Nightmovin

These two songs might as well work as a single piece since they are both more or less about the same thing. We reiterate how this person has been turned into an insomniac due to the trauma that they experienced as a child “When I'm far too tired to fall asleep”. They are delirious and barely coherent, possibly hallucinating as they think about their life in bed. This is clearly hell on earth and it seems like its just never going to stop “Can't wake up in a sweat

'Cause it ain't over yet” but, with neil’s classic sense of humor, the song immediately ends.

Now that could just be for the sake of irony but there is also another level in which it could be read. This suffering stops because something suddenly changes in this person’s life. What could that be?

Whitehouse

“I fell in love with a girl”

As the lyrics say, the main character met someone special and they are deeply in love. But also, because of the past that weighs heavily on him, he is very trepidatious about wether to go on with the relationship or not. He knows he is damaged goods and he doesnt want to drag her down as well, these fears make it so he never fully opens up to her about his issues “She turns and says, "Are you alright?" I said, "I must be fine because my heart's still beating."

Wah

The use of “war” by edwin starr is a clever reference about how everything is fair in love and war. Now this song is an important departure since it is sung from the point of view of the girl our main character fell in love with. She is a feisty woman who is very clearly trying to establish the terms of the relationship and demanding her partner to open up which the main character, due to his insecurities, takes as a declaration of war and which he deflects by playing dumb, hence the repeated use of the silly “WAH” by wario.

Pee Wee Inc

The emotional distance from the man is putting a strain in the relationship, so what once was supposed to “feel good” is now this melancholic and unbearable situation. Is no mistake that the song sampled here is “the breakfast machine” from pee wee’s big adventure. After all a neglected partner can feel like a breakfast machine, an object that is there just to make your breakfast. On top of this you can see that the insomnia hasnt gone away “My dreams, they got a kissing 'cause I don't get to sleep, no”. In a lot of ways the girlfriend is feeling used as just a relief from the man’s suffering but not as someone who is being truly loved.

1000 spoons

We go back to the woman’s perspective. At first it just seems like a simple melancholic situation where she is sad the relationship is not working, but then we see the woman have a full mental breakdown as the song changes and becomes much more deranged and we get to see what is really happening. The man ran away on their wedding day. This is represented by the lyrics “is like rain on your wedding day” because it means the wedding has been ruined. She is heartbroken by this.

Mouth dreams (extro)

Appropriately as the previous song talked about a wedding being ruined by “rain” this song begins with the sound of rain. This is the big emotional climax of the story, the music at its most dramatic. Now i will admit, even for me this is a stretch, im willing to concede most of what i am about to say is essentially built out of whole cloth and me wanting to fit a neat full narrative into this album where there is none, but hey, what is art for?

Essentially the man is about to commit suicide, possibly by jumping off a bridge in the rain as suggested by the song being sampled “drowning”. The fact that this song is named after the album is a way to signify how everything that we have just seen weighs heavily on the man’s heart, his whole life, his memories, his trauma, and he is finally ready to end it all. He jumps.

But at the last second his wife jumps after him and drags him to the shore, the last we see is her trying to perform mouth to mouth resuscitation, as indicated by the song,”love me mouth to mouth now…” he is unconscious and presumably finally sleeping peacefully (maybe dead?) “...cover me with dreams, yeah”.

It might look like he will not survive, as implied by the sinister version of all star encroaching over the song. But as it looks like all hope is lost he finally WAKES UP.

In a way this song is also when we finally catch up with the start of the album where we saw the man desperately hollering for human contact and merely echos responding, except now someone finally answered, and he is finally ready to open up and share his story.

Brithoven

Even though this song is sung by a single person i choose to take it as a dialog between the couple, both of them sharing their regrets about their relationship with each other, her recriminating the fact that she couldnt have known what he was going through “oh baby bay, how was i supposed to know, that something wasnt right here” and him finally admitting that he needs help “My loneliness is killing me”.

Finally they both agree to try it again and give their relationship a second chance “hit me baby one more time”

Ain’t

Part of me is conflicted about this song, i kind of want to disregard it, mainly because i think its kind of a weird way to end an album and also because i just dont feel is a very good mashup really. The lyrics dont mix that well with the song, they are paced in an inconsistent way and overall feel like they never truly click. On top of that it just doesnt fit at all with the narrative that i have been building during this analysis.

There is talk about alcoholism and parent abandoment, this time by the father, a figure that was never mentioned during the album. The last line says “say it aint so” which doesnt particularly seem to reflect on any of the themes i’ve been building upon. Ultimately i think i will just leave it besides and be content that i managed to fit almost all of the album into one story, this process was never meant to be a perfect dissection of the carefully planned story that neil deliberately crafted but rather me having fun seeing pictures in a rorshach test.

So anyway that was Mouth dreams, let me know what you thought.

#mouth sounds #mouth silence #mouth moods #mouth dreams #neil cicierega #music

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prompt-master · 4 years

Note

Would you be willing to share how you might rewrite Yukizome, Sakakura, and Munakata to make them likable characters (if not ppl Bc there’s a big difference)???

ahhhhhhh this ask got me so stupidly excited that I was like wavin my hands around. I think about how to rewrite their characters OFTEN. very often. I’m gonna go with likeable character over likeable people because I think they work better where they’re actually not that likeable people.

The one I think about the MOST is Munakata. He was SUCH wasted potential and I partially blame the medium for that (a single season anime is too constrained for future, it needed more time and care to be a proper story). But Munakata is actually so close to being a compelling character but they made some MAJOR mistakes with him. This ended up getting really long and more like a 3 page ADHD ramble essay. SO IM VERY SORRY to anyone who cannot read this but TYTYTY if you did because these ideas make me very happy! Oh it’s only about Munakata btw because of how long it got

The thing about Munakata is that he is designed to be a foil to Naegi. In fact a majority of dr3 future FOCUSES on this foil dynamic. It is Naegi’s hope vs Munakata’s hope. The World’s hope vs The FF’s hope. And more importantly it is True Hope vs Corrupted Hope.

This is a fantastic concept...so why didn’t it work in canon? I think that the biggest most glaring issue with Munakata’s hope is his logic. Munakata is meant to be a logical man, although with corrupted morals that lead him astray. Yet in canon his logic is laughably infallible. For example as a major figure in the FF and someone who wants to spread hope....why would he tell Naegi to kill himself? More importantly why does he continue to try and slaughter Naegi? The issue here isn’t from the fact that he wants him dead but from the fact that he is under the IMPRESSION that this entire game is being broadcast to the world.

Think about this for a second. In Munakata’s eyes he is going to kill the Ultimate Hope, an international symbol of a better life, live on TV. He doesn’t just want to kill the Ultimate Hope..he wants to do it BRUTALLY as a MAJOR FIGURE OF THE FF. IMO this should have happened later on as the game furthers the emotional turmoil in Munakata’s head and he eventually snaps and gives in to the desire to kill Naegi despite the fact that this is live. And then there should be CONSEQUENCES for that. I wanted so badly a realization where Munakata realizes that he is hurting the Ultimate Hope in front of what he believes is the entire world.

Another issue with Munakata’s logic is saying things such as...implying that the HPA KG was...just a game. I mean...people DIED. it's not hard to see how wrong that logic is. you can't say “this is the real world now” when what Naegi experienced WAS the real world. I think that this could be fixed through a bit of world building. DR3 Future is rather isolated from its world. We don’t really know much about the world and its dynamics. I think it would make perfect sense if the general public viewed the HPA KG as a tv show, they got numb to the sight and even those untouched by despair had a hard time connecting that these are REAL people suffering. With this previously established Munakata expressing that the KG was not real would make a lot more sense and play into his corrupted idea of hope.

There is also Munakata’s connection to his other friends. Now I’ve talked about this before but the game was clearly designed to BREAK Munakata and Naegi. This way the FF would die, both the FF and World’s hope would be broken, and upon seeing this Mitarai would have no choice but to deploy his own forced hope. So it makes perfect sense that Yukizome’s death would break him (in fact if she hadn’t died in that way, her NG code was designed to be Munakata’s fault). But something about it felt...superficial. Again I think this is the mediums fault but it almost feels as though Munakata just forgets about Yukizome until later. I think they should spend more time establishing his pain and what he has lost and why this pushes him to kill. In his eyes if she can die then nothing else matters. It should be THE breaking point, not the first push. I do like the betrayal he feels towards realizing she had despair but it needed more time to fester.

And his relationship with Sakakura also felt weak. In all honesty it was hard for me to feel as though they were ever friends. Sakakura is written as though he just follows Munakata like a loyal dog and Munakata just orders him around. Establish their relationship more! Why are they such good friends? Why is Sakakura important to him? And more importantly why did Munakata decide to cruelly gut Sakakura knowing he was about to confess? This is because he believed that Sakaura was despair and that his confession was more manipulation, but they didn’t show this well at ALL. Munakata just comes across as a major a-sshole who does not care. I also personally found it distasteful that when changing his heart Munakata only seemed to cry for Yukizome. I understand that was his love interest but Yukizome at the end of the day killed herself. Sakakura however was an unnecessary betrayal he took into his own hands AS HE HIMSELF KILLED HIM. He should have more guilt over that! Not just in that moment where he runs to Sakakura, but ahead of time as well! Maybe even DURING his rampage they could have shown him having moments of guilt but he is so absorbed in the idea that all despairs have to die that he doesn’t even realize he has become despair in the name of hope.

A BIG weakness on Munakata’s part comes with interacting with other characters. He is a man who should know how to take charge, lead, and doesn't know what to do when things are getting too crazy even though he THINKS he does. Munakata is heavily flawed, OBVIOUSLY flawed, but many of the interactions with him are as tho his rampage isnt a big deal. There should be reasons for this! Why do people trust Munakatas guidance so much? I dont know! All ive seen from him is that hes insane! Maybe even pieces where around others hes a lot nicer so you can understand why they follow him, even though hes ready to gut Naegi alive with a flaming katana. His interactions with others feel like the writers just wanted to see the next big evil thing they could think of, but for Munakata’s character this doesn't make sense because he was appointed a high status in the foundation for a reason. Maybe even have people say they disagree with some of his methods but at the end of the day he gets the job done!

There is another major missed opportunity here and it's why Muanakata wants Naegi dead so badly in the first place. The remnants. Hiding terrorists in the apocalypse is a PERFECTLY valid reason to want someone dead and think they're a bad guy! But I think since Naegis initial arrest was already so hostile and violent we get the sense that the FF is simply just...crazy.

And let’s think about what Munakata WANTS from Naegi. He does not just want Naegi dead he wants something worse. He wants Naegi to suffer first. He thinks that Naegi doesnt understand his own personal pain. He thinks that because Naegi protected the remnants he must also not care about the suffering the remnants caused. He wants Naegi to feel despair and then die. This is important to his corrupted hope. He thinks the suffering must be shared in order to understand who must die, but he is creating a cycle of pain. Tie this back to the broadcasting issue. He wants Naegi to break for everyone to see. I think..and this is just a concept..I think it would have been a great idea for Munkata to force Naegi to watch the despair video so that he has no choice but to understand.

AND themes are majorly important to Danganronpa. And I don’t think its a stretch to say that there are parallels between Munakata and Naegi. In fact I would say that there are aspects of the og trio in this new trio. I think it would have been really cool if they showed how our favorite trio could have ended up if they had been corrupted as well. But the parrellels dont stick strongly. I think it would have been cool to show a past where Munakata’s idealism lies more strongly than Naegis. As the student council president there was a time where he himself had to use his words to solve problems. Perhaps he learned that sometimes his words made things worse. Munakata does not have Naegi’s talent of emotional intelligence. He is a man of action over words. So he interprets this as WORDS being the problem rather than understanding he does not have these skills. Especially when the apocalypse breaks out, it becomes all action over words. So he sees Naegi who is all talk as a genuine threat who will let everyone die through his “weak ineffective” idea of hope.

Another parallel could be drawn from the fact that they both have hope based careers. Their job is too keep things hopeful. Maybe Naegi stays safe doing public broadcasted speeches, while Munakata is on the field weeding out despairs. This would cause Munakata to feel as though Naegi is doing no real work yet getting all the credit for being a savior.

Munakata constantly complains that Naegi does not know true pain. But he and we as an audience have followed Naegi through his entire process of trauma. We know he is in the wrong. But what do we as an audience know about Munakata’s suffering? We are shown almost nothing! There are some implications, but for how intense he is implications are not enough. We need to see his suffering. We should see how he has witnessed death. Yukizomes death is not nearly enough for this because he talks as though he has suffered for years. How can we as an audience understand that when we have never seen it? How can we understand Munakata when he is outright denying Naegi’s trauma that we KNOW existed with no proper justification for his reasoning?

I also believe that Munakata should have died. It actually upsets me a bit that he was PLANNED to die but didn't. He should have died protecting Naegi after all that suffering and relentless brutality he offered him. Munakata again is a man of action over word, and protecting Naegi with his last breath is the perfect way to show how in the end he changed. Especially when all he wanted initially was for Naegi to die. I find that much more satisfying than just…...walking off to who knows where.

So lets recap some changes. Munakata needs a proper display of his past traumas and his relationship with Sakakura and Yukizome. Munakata needs a proper display of his work relationships and the respect he has earned. Munakata needs to fall into corruption at a better pace, and have geniune reasons for his illogical attacks on Naegi. Munakata needs to care more for his friends. Munakata needs to deal with the turmoil of wanting to hurt Naegi while he believes the world is watching. Munakata needs to die for Naegi

This has gotten long...and I still have things to say. There is so much to make Munakata a good character. Future had a lot of potential and is amazing for a rewrite concept. As for Sakakura and Yukizome since this has gotten long feel free to ask for another round of this individually when asks are open again! If you read all of this somehow….TYSM

#ask #danganronpa #kyosuke munakata #dr3 #dr3 spoilers #analysis #???#sorry sorry sorry ahhhhh i have so much to say fuuuuihkhuhi

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thisiskatsblog · 4 years

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Hi Kat, I often come to seek your wisdom and thoughts on matters such as these because you were the first Larry blog I ever found and the last time I did, you really seemed to understand me and my conflicting emotions and messiness haha. So. My question is what are your thoughts on the Ray and SBB twitter accounts? I found them a few months back when I found a thread explaining a theory of why it's L&H and go back now and again to see what is being posted. I am the darkest Larrie there is, yet

contd: I always prefer to be a cynic because I know just how devastating it is when you put your hope in something only to have it crumbled. And in this fandom, you can't trust anything or anyone unless there is hardcore evidence and proof (aka every millisecond of footage of fetus Larry). There is talk about clues, numbers, iphone/androids and these cryptic riddles and hidden meanings. People do admit in the comments it feels like they're clowning yet I also see thousands resting their hopes contd: on these obscure tweets. I will admit the proof thread I originally read made it seem believable but I then I thought 'who am I kidding, there's no way it could genuinely by H&L'. It doesn't seem like something they would risk, nor something either of them would actually do. It seems like two people baiting Larries and giving us false hope (because in this era where we never get public interaction, many have become far more gullible and willing to believe anything, no matter how far

fetched. Ahh I don't know. It just seems far too good to be true that the two of them are communicating with us through cryptic pictures and riddles and messages. Yes I do believe they both have always found ways to communicate with us, whether it is through songs or body language, because we opened our eyes, we were by their sides and stay strong for them because this is a fight they will win, but I really don't know. It's very cruel if someone is indeed baiting us. Thanks x

(^^^ March 23rd)

2. Anonymous said:

March 25th 2020, 7:06:01 am · a month ago

okay so I just read some master posts explaining RBB and SBB in detail (I didn't get why people were hanging onto every word of Ray and Seymour's tweets like that) and my mind is literally going INSANE trying to process it all. As usual their reactions when asked about it directly on that christmas sweater interview told me all I needed to know back when I watched it but had no idea the sheer significance of these bears until now. It's crazy all the ways L&H showed us the truth all along, to

this day it's just mind-blowing to me. Like they were screaming in the midst of drowning (cough cough Director's Cut), desperate for us to listen and thank God so many of us weren't blind. Sometimes I do feel like maybe I am going crazy or I am delusional for believing in this, as FIMQ said, the cognitive dissonance is real. My mind spirals catastrophically and I doubt my own sanity, and then my mind plays all these touches and glances, slipped words and monumental actions on a loop, far too

much evidence to dispute, and I know I can never go back, how can I, when I've never in my whole life witnessed such magnificent, almost otherworldly love, never cared about any celebrity's love life yet this is far more than that, it is fighting for their love, because they should have never had to be that strong, to endure so much pain, so so young, but they weren't that strong for us to be weak. And I can't wait for the day they are free. No one on this earth deserves it more than L&H.

3. Anonymous said:

March 26th 2020, 12:44:47 pm · a month ago

Even I am the darkest Larrie (and yes there is no going back, ever) sometimes I don't know what the fuck I'm doing. Loving and supporting and fighting so fucking hard for a love that is as tragic and excruciating as it is the most beautiful, magnificent thing I have ever witnessed. I wonder, did I get it all wrong and what if they don't find their way back to each other, my waking moments are haunted by memories of them, so young, so clearly smitten, like who the fuck finds their soulmate at

that age? What if even if it is 'always going to be h for Lou', even if they were 'too young to know they had everything' but h doesn't forgive him or remember that yes, their love is worth it? Sometimes I feel I am teetering on the brink of insanity, what if Lou actually has a kid? And Harry's album was about a horrible woman who never deserved him? I think I'll be strong for them, even if I have to wait ten or twenty years but I also feel so much pain thinking about it all. I have never

doubted my own sanity in my life, but lately I wonder so often if I am delusional for having faith in the love of two boys who we're fated to meet and fall in love. I can't even watch them in their baby boyfriends stage or watch edits anymore because I feel physical pain because they never deserved that. I feel pain thinking about their pain, no one should have to face that so young. To be that strong. I want to be strong yet and I try so hard but i also feel I am going mad. I don't even know.

______________________________

Three anons that I suspect are the same person (and maybe even the same one I just answered). Big hugs to you dear anonymous person! And thanks for the compliment. And the patience. I’m so sorry it took me so long to answer. Not sure if I have anything helpful to say, still, except: the fact that you’ve started doubting your sanity, that cognitive dissonance you feel, that dizzy head nauseous gut feeling you get when what you see and what you hear and what you read, just doesn’t match up but you haven’t been able to rationally unravel it yet. That feeling is probably your best proof that something is very amiss, and that Louis’ and Harry’s relationship is very real. We all know that feeling, and it tends to get worse the more caught up in fandom you get.

Your sanity is worth preserving though, so - in my view - it’s better to leave the fandom for a while, however short, to take care of yourself, and be strong for yourself when you feel like it’s draining you too much. You can do that by physically leaving social media, or by taking emotional, and mental distance on a regular basis.

I always remind myself that I have no influence over whether Louis and Harry eventually make it together. And next to no influence over their careers, management, label. I can decide what I do, and have a wee tiny bit of influence on the modest amount of followers of this blog, and then a wee little bit more through the other one - but all in all, my actions, the person they matter most to, the person they influence most, is me. So I try to do, in life, and in this fandom, the things that make me happy. Worrying, does not make me happy. Arguing with hets rads antis and all the other new abbreviations i don’t really get, doesnt make me happy either - I only do it when I’m having one of those days or one of them really sets me off like the other day. But in general, what makes me happy is focusing on the positive. What this fandom has brought me. And has brought other LGBTQ+ people. What are we learning here, what stories do we tell eachother, how are we making eachother better here.

All of that said: Louis, and Harry, have both sung, in this past year, that they “made it”, and referenced eachother’s music videos in important ways. So I honestly don’t think there’s much to worry about. I think that, whatever was causing them difficulties, they already “found their way back”. I think they are allright.

And I want us to be allright to. That’s something we can influence, that we can do for eachother. So I’m sorry it took me so long to get back to you

I enjoyed reading your SBB post, talking about the sweater interview. That part of it was wonderful, and everything we needed to know. I took RBB and SBB with a big grain of salt in the beginning, but I have reason to believe it was them, or someone very close to them, and that interview did confirm that.

With or without permission, that’s difficult to say. Was it queerbaiting? I’ve been asked that question so many times. In a sense noo, because they are LGBTQ+ themselves - but there is the fact that RBB & SSB very deliberately engaged with LGBTQ+ fans and kept them here while they must have known, at least after bullshit 2.0 happened, that they were going to stay closeted.

I don’t know exactly how I feel about that. It was a crazy ride, and some of it was enjoyable, and I think the support is important to them, so I do want to stay around. But I also think it’s shit that LGBTQ+ fans in this fandom have done SO much to support them, and are getting so much shit in return, still, not from them, not at all, but in this environment - and no one is stopping it.

And that’s not just the case in Louis’ fandom, where we’re definitely experiencing enormous amounts of cognitive dissonance with the bearding and babygate. But also in Harry’s. When LGBTQ+ fans bring rainbows night after night, but it’s constantly portrayed as if Harry is the one bringing them, and when it’s LGBTQ+ fans organising to light up arena’s night after night across Europe, but the only time that gets featured is when it’s two straight girls organising it, insisting they are not doing it for queer fans but because we should be one happy family inclusiveness all around.. I can understand the frustration, the impression of queerbaiting, the feeling of being taken for granted, that made some people leave Harry’s fandom. I will stay, I think he’s amazing, and I think he needs and is grateful for the support, but as an LGBTQ+ fan, I still feel like I am in a hostile environment - knowing he is with Louis, and that he cannot speak about it, has never spoken about any concrete relationship with a man. That’s... - that still tells LGBTQ+ people they are not 100% legit.

And that’s probably not a lot better for the straight fans who see what we see: a beautiful relationship they can’t speak about and that’s denied all the time. That, too, tells you your thoughts are not legit, and therefore you are not legit. The gaslighting... it’s probably the most poisonous, detrimental aspect of this fandom. Coming back after more than a year off, I was shocked, at how clear things seemed to me again, compared to how doubtful I had been about my own opinions when I left. Taking time off is not abandoning them. Remember that. For me, it made me stronger, and it allows me to support them now.

So I hope this gets better. Soon. I am still convinced they want that too. And when I start doubting, I listen to Only The Brave...

#doubts #sbb #rbb #cognitive dissonance #gaslighting #Anonymous #ask

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belfrygargoyles · 3 years

Text

What I mean is that in the like, eight or nine years I’ve been on tumblr, I’ve seen this. Shift? in how “otherkin” is defined and treated even in the kin communities.

And I’ll go ahead and say it gets kind of complicated because while I really don’t think kinning is inherently linked to psychosis or DID, I can see there being overlap that might draw one to the other. What I mean is that I can see how someone who experiences one might find similarities and comfort in the other. But as someone who doesnt experience psychosis or DID, I can’t and won’t really say any more than that.

But the thing is that I’ve seen this general shift from “you can call yourself kin if you just heavily identify with this character” to “if you dont have kin memories, flashbacks, canonmates, or shifts, you’re not really kin” in a way, along with some general appropriation of language specifically used for DID. And I think it’s... really become quite hostile? And a bit dangerous especially for young mentally ill teens struggling to get a diagnosis.

Like. Okay. Because I’m not psychotic, a system, or experience any dissociative episodes (anymore), I want to clarify that I’m not conflating being otherkin with being a system or psychosis, or how the communities might intersect. It’s not my place to talk about that, and I don’t want to come across like I’m equating the experiences, belittling them, or painting them in a bad light. I am coming from the place of someone who is and always has been mentally ill, was once a mentally ill teen on the internet, and someone who once tried to pathologize every aspect of my personality because I didn’t know what was “normal” for me to experience and to what degree, to the point of using incorrect terminology for conditions i didnt have because I saw other people on the internet using those words for things they didn’t mean.

So okay. When I was 13 all the way to maybe 19, I didn’t really think I had a personality. I wouldn’t be able to tell you what kind of person I was, my personality traits, interests, etc. Part of that was because I spent a lot of my young life severely depressed. Mostly, I think I was just a teenager. But you don’t think about it like that when you’re that age. You see yourself as a blank slate.

And if you were like me, you wanted to fill that slate, and you did so by latching on to the few things you found you really connected with- characters or concepts you really liked or identified with or meant something to you, so you wanted to make them a part of you. So you find there’s a word for something like that, being kin with it, and you want to label the experience so you do. you’re [blank]-kin, because you so heavily identify with it. Maybe you decide to name yourself after it. Maybe you decide to start doing things that remind you of it. Maybe you decide to seek out other people like you and hope you’ll form a bond because of it.

and like... that’s fine, on its own. I think... the problem really came when it became more widespread to claim that to be kin with something, you have to truly believe that you are that kintype. And while it’s not outside the realm of possibility that there are people who do, I’m talking from the perspective of someone who was a kid who didn’t, but thought they had to, and tried to convince myself that i did. That I did have kin memories, because that’s all everyone talks about, that I did kinshift, because people with multiple kintypes do that, right? And the community as it was, the way I saw it, at that time... tended to encourage dissociative behaviors, because it meant i was “shifting” or being closer to my “true self,” and I really think I wasn’t alone in just being a kid who wanted to fit in and be taken seriously. And for the people who weren’t, who were having psychotic episodes and who genuinely believed they were dragons or vampires and were going to starve- they way they were treated actively encouraged delusions and unsafe habits.

Now that I’m older, I still do have kin ids- but i know they don’t have to mean that, i just very strongly identify with some characters. i also know that people can be kin and experience delusions, psychosis, and dissociative episodes, and that theyre not necessarily mutually exclusive, but the way the kin community at large seems to appropriate the terms and encourage unhealthy thoughts and habits about identity and “kin obligations”... isn’t great for anyone.

#personal #i’m honestly willing to discuss this further #theres a lot im missing and a lot i dont get because ive never experienced being a system or delusions #and i have no idea what it is actually like from that perspective

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eliaselliot-blog · 6 years

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♔ LOCKWOOD TASK 001 ; character sheet

BASICS

Full Name: elias anton elliot. Meaning of Name: greek derivation of “jehovah of god”. Nickname: eli, ant. jackass. whichever you will.

Birth Date: january 6th, 1996. Astrological Sign and Details: capricorn. Birth Place: manhattan, ny. Age: 21. Nationality: american. Race: caucasian. Hair Color: black. Hair Style: not too short, slightly messy. Distinct Features of Face: strong jawline, long lashes, thick brows, plush lips. Glasses or Contacts: both. rarely seen in glasses, however. Eye Color: hazel. Skin Tone: slightly tanned, but white. Scars or Distinguishing Marks: a scar that goes down his right shoulder blade. Disabilities: none. Build or Body Type: broad shoulders, muscular arms and torso, toned legs. Height: 6′ 3″. Weight: well. Speech Patterns: speaks in a low, yet confident tone. tends to deadpan most things, even jokes. isn’t a man who makes his present super known, but is typically around a lot of people at social gatherings and gets along with most despite his sometimes stand-offish demeanor. Tag Words: “no, i won’t paint you.” Gestures: rotates his rings a lot, toys with his bottom lip while he’s thinking, pretty expressive with his brows, combs his hands through his hair subconsciously and then messes it up again to put it back lmfao FAMILY AND CHILDHOOD

Mother: evelyn elliot Father: jacob elliot Mother’s Occupation: ex-model, now just keeps up with the family’s social status Father’s Occupation: partner of a prestigious law firm Family Finances: wealthy gucci gang gucci gang gucci gang Birth Order: what. 1st? Brothers: none. Sisters: sophia elora elliot, 19 Other Close Family: jude hayward, first-cousin Best Friend: Other Friends: Blake, Lana, Imogen, Jude, Frankie, Tripp, Alex, Teddy, Reagan, surprisingly the list goes on Enemies: his DAD. dw he’ll probably find sum1 here soon enough Pets: he got a pup named king Home Life During Childhood: HAHAHA. horrible. Town or City Name(s): manhattan, ny Details of Town(s) or City(s): manhattan is as much of a city as it gets What Did His, Her or Their Bedroom Look Like: somewhat tidy, eli’s always been kinda neat Any Sports or Clubs: couple mma tournaments, art club for middle school and first half of hs Favorite Toy or Game: fifa, amnesia, fleshlight, assassin’s creed etc Schooling: attended a public high school Favorite Subject: art Popular or Loner: god knows how bt popular Important Experiences or Events: being physically and emotionally abused by his father, and using that to better himself successwise and kinda spite his dad Health Problems: does depression count? borderline alcoholic Religion and beliefs: his family is christian but doesn’t rly believe in his religion, he’s more of a logical thinker personally PERSONAL

Bad Habits: smoking, biting his nails, fidgeting, drinking alone, using certain people for personal gain Good Habits: typically neat and put-together, eats clean, works out religiously, dresses well, maintaining himself physically Best Characteristic: loyal to those he’s close to Worst Characteristic: being consistently distant Worst Memory: Best Memory: Proud of: how he’s able to accomplish anything he wants to do Embarrassed by: his lack of ability to truly get close to/trust people Driving Style: lmfao did somebody say speed demon Strong Points: incredibly driven, charming when he wants to be, can’t think of any more atm Temperament: typically level headed, a bit of a grump but still playful yano Attitude: can sometimes be cold if someone tries to get too close to him, but typically socializes well despite this Weakness: elias would rather die than tell you what he’s really thinking. if someone actually manages to get him to open up he’d probably be a stuttering and babbling mess Fears: not doing as well as he wants to, because then he’ll feel like he let his family down. also his father still scares him a bit but would never ever admit to it Phobias: the dad 1 Secrets: lol nice TRY Regrets: NO RAGRETS. jk he kinda regrets not taking art more seriously bc now thats kinda gone as an outlet he’s picking up bad alternatives that’ll only hurt him nd his health Feels Vulnerable When: some1 tries to get closer to him Pet Peeves: loud chewing, nail filing, all i cn think of rn Motivation: working for the day he can say he outdid his dad Short Term Goals and Hopes: maintain his 4.0 and get into a good med school Long Term Goals and Hopes: become one of the top surgeons in the country Sexuality: straight unless u another matt daddario cos i mean come on Exercise Routine: nice try honey u cant get abs like these. Day or Night Person: night. absolute nocturnal fiend Introvert or Extrovert: ambivert! mostly introverted but he can also be v charming and social at gatherings etc. something he learned from bein the poster boy of the socialite fam Optimist or Pessimist: he doesnt like 2 complain a lot but i wouldn’t say he’s an optimist either

LIKES AND PREFERENCES

Music: arctic monkeys, the neighbourhood, the weeknd, muse, daniel caesar, frank ocean, dvsn, tame impala Books: anything khaled hosseini, haruki murakami, and mitch albom Magazines: forbes, if any Foods: cold pizza, sushi, seafood, apples, burgers, dark chocolate, tiramisu Drinks: craft beer, whiskey and most other alcohol, black coffee, red wine Animals: tiger, wolf, big fan of husky dogs Sports: soccer Favorite Saying: “no." Color: red, black Clothing: urban style with a rich flair. leather, denim, expensive sweaters and Jewelry: expensive watches, sometimes rings Games: poker, chess, cards against humanity Websites: pornhub uh, vine? TV Shows: sherlock, the office, stranger things Movies: the prestige, shutter island, borat, can’t think of any more Greatest Want: to stay on top of his class, take more time out for art Greatest Need: someone to be patient and understanding with him

LIFESTYLE

Home: live in the beta delta xi house, but his family owns a mansion at home. Household furnishings: his room is rather tidy. numerous black and white murals remain littered across his walls and above his bed rests a shelf filled with his favorite novels and vinyls. Most Cherished Possession: Neighborhood: manhattan Town or City Name: new york Details of Town or City: very busy, very on-the-go, new york city is a definition in itself. Married Before: heck no Significant Other Before: he’s got a couple of exes that he’d dated due to having extra time on his hands. he’d always get bored rather quickly into the relationship and leave, however. now that eli has much less time on his hands, he no longer looks to date. Children: LOL Relationship with Family: hostile with his father, indifferent but still somewhat caring towards his mother. Car: not yet Career: full-time student. Salary: n/a Other Income: n/a Dream Career: professional artist. Dream Life: providing for his mother and sister, living in a new mansion with a fresh start. would have someone he could be emotionally intimate with, though the thought of this currently terrifies him. Love Life: eli scratches his head at this foreign term. Sexual Turn Ons: taking control, fighting for dominance, idk he seems like he’d be in2 bondage lmafaodifgbl Sexual Turn Offs: bad head, feet, excessive talking, repressed moans, “you like that?” no. leave my sight. Hobbies: mma fighting, painting, taking pictures for painting inspirations, if getting drunk alone counts as a hobby hey be my guest Guilty Pleasure: bingeing martha and snoop’s potluck dinner party Talents or Skills: fights well, and can paint. can sex be a talent? Intelligence Level: very book smart, he gets this from his father. though eli has his moments (as does anyone), he is fairly street smart as well — although, he is very standoffish so it’s hard to tell sometimes if he’s being smart or just a closed-off prick.

#lockwoodtask #lockwoodtask001 #lockwood:points #i jst wanted to post this #missing a lot n cd answer som of these better but i'll come back to it n edit it in my free time #physical abuse tw #abuse tw #alcoholism tw

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saibh29 · 7 years

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Thief (Part 6)

Pairing: Bellamy / Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Violence, Light Smut (PG13)

AN: We’re getting to the end of my plotted out map for this story, so I hope you all enjoy this part. Also, my editing seems to have gone to shit so if anyone knows anyone who would be willing to do some Beta work with me please let me know? I’m happy to work with people as well on a back and forth basis.

If you want to read the previous parts of this story find them here:::: Part One , Part Two , Part Three , Part Four , Part Five

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Fuck it all to hell, you had told Finn, told him so many times that you’d felt like a parrot. It was only to be him and Clarke at this meeting with Anya. Just like Anya would only bring you and her second. Of course you’d been naïve to think either of them would keep their word. Clarke had definitely brought more than just Finn and Anya had brought a whole horde of warriors.

It had been inevitable at that point that someone was going to get an itchy finger and fire without meaning to. Unfortunately, that person had been on Clarke and Finn’s side. Bullets had rained down on your people and you had all retreated back with untrusting eyes falling on you. Why had you let Finn talk you into this? You were going to pay for how badly this had all turned out.

Tris had been hit with one of those bullets and from the sickly pale colour of Anya’s second you doubted she would be recovering anytime soon. No one within your own tribe had the medical skills to heal bullet wounds. Poison and arrow’s yes, but bullets? There was a reason why you had been sent to steal the vast majority of their ammunition.

“Y/N?”

You jerked at Anya’s voice coming from behind you, turning to look into your leaders face. She looked tired and more than a little bit concerned for Tris.

“I need you to do something for me”

“What is it?”

“Scouts brought in Clarke and Finn earlier on this morning, I need you to go to the sky people’s camp. Keep that boy in the walls”

“That boy?” you asked curiously then continuing “you haven’t hurt them Anya?”

“I haven’t and I won’t as long as the girl succeeds in healing Tris” folding her arms across her chest she levelled her gaze on you, tiredness banished “You are to keep Bellamy Blake within the walls of that camp Y/N. I don’t care how you do it, but he needs to stay away”

“You don’t care how I do it?” Anya had a tone to her voice that you didn’t like, it implied something about your relationship with Bellamy that you hadn’t even admitted to yourself yet. “You sound like you have some idea about what needs doing Anya”

“Don’t try and cover up your feelings for them Y/N” her face pinched into a look of distaste. “It’s impossible to miss how you talk about them all of a sudden, your becoming more like Lincoln day after day”

“I am nothing like him”

Anya simply shrugged her shoulders “at this moment in time I don’t care what you believe, in fact your fondness for them is helping my immediate goals. Go, keep Bellamy occupied enough to leave Finn and Clarke here”

You wanted to keep pressing, to try and get some sort of guarantee out of Anya that she wouldn’t hurt Finn or Clarke. However, you knew Anya to well to think that you were going to succeed in that respect instead you would take what she had given already. “When do you want me to go?”

“Now” Anya held out your coat, the dark green one that allowed you to blend so well into the back drop of the forest. “As long as you can Y/N”

“As long as I can” you slipped into the coat flicking the hood up over your hair and doing up the buttons.

You knew that when Anya said now she meant now you didn’t bother looking back to try and get any sort of glimpse at Finn or Clarke instead simply taking off for the borders of the forest. Stealing wasn’t your only skill nor was slipping ropes. You could also move almost inhumanely fast through the forest; it was a talent you hadn’t been able to teach to anyone else. The way you jumped over the undergrowth and missed hazards around you. All of it added up to the fact that reaching the sky peoples camp would have taken others hours but took you only one.

Movement was frantic around the camp and you could see hordes of kids running around seemingly unsure of what they should do. Who you couldn’t see was Bellamy though, the one person who you were supposed to be distracting.

Distracting, that was the interesting word. What exactly was distracting Bellamy going to take and just how far were you willing to go to uphold Anya’s orders.

You stayed in the trees for a moment scouting out time in the guard’s rotation to slip through the tunnel and into the camp. From the edge of the tunnel it was easy enough to skirt around the edges of the camp and tents to towards the one you knew was Bellamy’s. You were taking a guess that that was where he might be, planning what to do next. From the outside you couldn’t hear any voices so taking the risk that he was going to be on his own you slipped inside.

Your luck apparently was holding because sure enough Bellamy was sat on the edge of his bed, head in his hands staring down at the floor. “I’m not in the mood for another lecture Clarke”

He didn’t know that Clarke had gone yet, that was good. “Then it’s a good job I’m not Clarke”

He jerked, jumping up from his bed to spin around staring over at you. “Y/N”

“In the flesh” you pushed your hood down revealing your face to him, smiling softly at his visible surprise. “Sorry for skipping out on you again, but I did promise to be back”

“What are you doing here?”

Slowly you undid the buttons of your coat dropping it to the floor as you came over to a still tense Bellamy. “You tried to kill Anya, you nearly did kill Tris”

“Tris?”

“Anya’s second. She isn’t happy”

“Do you really think that bothers me?” he snapped out anger filtering over his features as he stared down at you.

“I think it should” you took the final step towards him so your bodies were only inches apart. “I think if it honestly doesn’t than your more stupid than I thought and that’s just…disappointing”

Bellamy reached up grabbing your arms and squeezed to such an extent that it was almost painful. “I’m only going to ask you once more Y/N, what are you doing here?”

“Can I not want to see you?” his nostrils flared at that, he wanted it to be true you could see it on his face. He wanted to believe that you wanted to see him. It was interesting, it seemed that Bellamy was fighting just as hard as you were to deny that there was anything but hostility between the two of you. That the chemical pull you felt towards him didn’t actually exist. You slowly raised your hand up to rest your hand against his chest, you could feel his heart beat accelerating under your touch. “I did want to see you again Blake”

“But?”

“But that’s not the whole reason”

You’d reached a crossroads, right now in this moment your life could go one of two directions. You could do as you had been raised to protect Anya and not tell him that is was likely that Clarke and Finn were both going to die at the hands of your people. Or you could tell him the truth, you could betray your people and you could take the final step towards living a life like Lincoln lived.

“I need to know something from you before I tell you”

“Need to know what?” Bellamy’s grip loosened on your arms but he didn’t completely let go of you, almost like he was scared that you were going to vanish once more.

“Would you have killed Lincoln? If I hadn’t gotten him out of this camp. Would you have killed my friend?”

He went silent, eyes flicking down from your face to instead stare down at the floor. “No” he whispered out. “Is that what you want to hear? That your enemies are weak. That I wouldn’t have been able to kill him when it came down to the end”

“I don’t think your weak” you moved your hand up from his chest, tracing his collar bone and up his neck to lift his chin so you could stare into his eyes once more. “I don’t think mercy is weakness Bellamy. On the contrary I think it takes more courage to show forgiveness” lifting yourself up onto your toes you pressed your lips against Bellamy’s.

Unlike the first time you had kissed him Bellamy didn’t stay motionless for long. His hands went to your hips pulling your body up to his own, then wrapped around your waist. One large hand splayed out on the base of your back and the other moved up to tunnel into your hair.

Your body lit up like it was one fire, Bellamy’s touch sending shivers over your skin and made your brain vacate the premises. You barely managed to wrench yourself back under control breaking away from his lips.

“Wait Bellamy, I’m a distraction” you gasped out gripping onto his shirt. “I’m a distraction”

“A distraction?” his own eyes were still unfocused with lust as he kept you wrapped in his arms.

“Anya, she has Clarke and Finn. If Clarke can’t save her second, she’ll kill them. I’m the distraction”

Bellamy tensed but surprising you he still didn’t let go of you or try and restrain you. “Why are you telling me this?”

You bit your lip staring up at him. “Because sometimes mercy is most courageous thing you can do”

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battystumutchildren-blog · 7 years

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MAVRIK: -It's very late into the evening, most shops and stores on the station are already shut down or in the end process of closing, and the only transportalizers left running are the few 24 hour ones.-

MAVRIK: -There is hardly anyone left walking about, and as the slow trickle of employees from the Silvah dollar exits the building there is a deep quiet. But before the owner has had the time to leave or lock the doors, a figure is melting out of the shadows and slipping into the restaurant.-

MAVRIK: -The hood of his sweatshirt is drawn but there is no disguising his horns or the cracks running along one of them. Mavrik might look rather sinister with his eye patch and his hands stuffed into his pockets if it wasn't for his twitchy appearance and the way it seemed like it was impossible for him to focus in one area of space. This whole place reeked of troll and disgusting cooked food. But focus, he had to focus. He's here to see silvah.-

SILVAH: -Silvah's not hard to find on such a small station, especially since Mavrik ought to be aware of the troll's fairly predictable routine of being the last one out the door, closing up shop and making the lazy walk to either the transportalizer pad back to Skaia or the shuttle depending on his mood and the convenience of either option. It's the end of a pretty busy day, so he's sweaty and dirt tired. All the lights have been turned off but just as he's going to lock up, he rounds the corner and is momentarily startled by Mavrik's sudden appearance. After days and days of hearing nothing but rumor of the ugly fight, and after all the tension his conversations with Ryan and Jack have been building up in his mind....it's almost surreal. But he relaxes slightly and at least puts on a welcoming face.-

SILVAH: Didn't expect t' be seein ya back here

SILVAH: -He scratches the back of his neck thoughtfully.- Thought ya'd be planet-hoppin by now. MAVRIK: -His eye is locked on Silvah, intense and cold. Not like the usual grumpy look he wore before, Mavrik looks like his mind is distant.-

MAVRIK: Mhm.

MAVRIK: I came by to get my last paycheck.

SILVAH: -Lets out a big sigh....- Alright. Yer entitled t' it.

SILVAH: I'm....mighty fuckin sorry things turned out this way. I wouldn't a let him hurt ya if I'd been there.

SILVAH: An' he's not allowed around here no more, y'know. MAVRIK: -Grunts and shrugs rather sharply, his whole body is stiff and tense.- Shit happens.

MAVRIK: This was always going to end up a limited gig. All my jobs always do.

MAVRIK: I just need the money and I'll be out-- -Suddenly looks to his left and jolts at nothing visible. There are a lot of smells in here, a lot of lingering essences of people who have been through the building today. Its like a constant assault on his nose and eyes. Too much really. He has slept in a few days, hasn't eaten in longer. Hes becoming delirious.- SILVAH: -Gives him a long, searching look. While he's looking, he investigates Mavrik's emotions and feels the odd intensity and desperation and hunger coming off him in waves. It doesn't bode well. He turns to walk away towards his office where he keeps the payroll....but hesitates.- Y' aren't lookin' too good, man.

SILVAH: Do ya need help? Money? I mean besides yer paycheck, that is. Place t' stay?

SILVAH: -The things Jack said about Mavrik, what he's capable of keep cycling through his mind. He can't help but think there has to be something he can say or do stop it.-

MAVRIK: -He watches Silvah move across the room, as if he's anticipating some sort of sudden movement from him.-

MAVRIK: No, I just want what I haven't been paid yet. I don't need your money just mine.

MAVRIK: I'm fine. Perfectly fine. SILVAH: Look, ....I know a fucked up situation when I see it. I ain't blind. Just got one functionin' peeper. Like yerself currently.

SILVAH: I can tell yer scared and ya ain't firin' all cylinders. Apt to do somethin' regrettable.

SILVAH: But it don't have t' be that way.

MAVRIK: -He is listening to silvah talk, and seemingly still neutral up until he mentions mavrik doing something "regrettable" then all bets are off, and Mavrik goes entirely rigid. Hardly even breathing for a short time.- ...........

MAVRIK: "Regrettable." -Repeats it with a rumbling growl in the back of his throat. And odd choice of words. Jack had attacked him for something he hadn't done, would he have told silvah? What if silvah also believed him capable of those things was he being paranoid? How much did Silvah know about him?? Jack knew plenty what if he told.-

MAVRIK: What am I doing that's regrettable? What doesn't have to be what way?? Hm?? HM??!

MAVRIK: I'm doing fuck all, I'm not scared of anything I'm FINE!! -Steps suddenly towards Silvah, hissing loudly, before he comes back to his senses again and backs down.- ..... SILVAH: -Uh oh. Silvah doesn't need complex math equations to know he made a bad call by trying to appeal to Mavrik. For a moment all he can do is blink in surprise at Mavriks sudden spike in paranoia and hostility, and for the first time he feels the madness too- which comes in a cocktail of potent emotions that make his head spin. The situation obviously isn't as manageable as he first thought. He has to be careful. Very careful. He makes his voice sound worried, but still relaxed and soothing.- Now I don't know nothin about any a that. I was just sorta speakin in general terms . Relax would ya? I'm gonna go get your pay check an then if ya still wanna talk about this yer welcome t it. -He just casually as can be starts walking to his office.- MAVRIK: -Relax.... he could do that, he could relax... maybe.-

MAVRIK: -He takes a few deep breaths, picking up on that forced calm Silvah has and trying to do the same for himself.- Okay... y-yeah okay.

MAVRIK: -His eyes follow silvah as he shuffles over to the counter to wait. This just felt dangerous to him, going to a less populated area, no where to hide, and silvah might very well know what he is.-

SILVAH: -He does go and grab Mavrk's paycheck as he said, his mind racing the whole time while his body leisurely strolls....but while in the sanctity of his office, he makes sure to equip his armkind . One twist of the wrist and he'll have his weapon at the ready- literally at hand. Just a little insurance policy. In case Mavrik actually is as crazy as Silvah thinks he is. Text from his conversation with Jack is scrolling over and over again in his head, especially the end bit. He's too far gone. Silvah still doesn't know if that's true....Not for sure. But he has a bad feeling about all this now. The sooner he has Mavrik out of his resturaunt, the sooner he can actually do something about it. He approaches the counter and slides the paycheck over to him wordlessly, along with a few extra hundred dollar bills. Maybe all he really needs is money. It's possible right? That's what most people need.-

SILVAH: ...Well I was closin up when ya came. Think I'm gonna head out now.

SILVAH: Take care a yourself. MAVRIK: -When Silvah comes back out Mavrik snaps back to attention, having previously been hunched over the counter top staring at nothing. He looks up at Silvah, then down at the check and money before snatching it up checking to be sure it was signed and then tucking it away for safety. Suddenly he felt some relief wash over him, just these few hundred dollars extra meant maybe he could keep further in reality, further from daily feeling like he was dying. Mavrik lets out a sigh.- .............. Thank you.

MAVRIK: And.

MAVRIK: I............ I never wanted it to go that way. With Ryan's friend. That guy.

MAVRIK: I wasnt what he said I was. SILVAH: -It's impossible for Silvah not to keep feeling sympathy for Mavrik, despite all the evidence piling up against him. Silvah in that moment genuinley hopes the poor guy will take the money and run. Find somewhere to be happy- or at least less miserable. Not hurt anyone or be hurt by anyone. Silvah just nods and strides slowly towards the door.- not trusting himself to say much more without upsetting him again- ...I know. -He wants to believe it. But he's not sure.-

MAVRIK: Mhm.

MAVRIK: But I'm running out of options. And chances. If he said anything to you, if Ryan said anything to you...

MAVRIK: Silvah I've always hated every single troll with a burning rage you cannot even fathom... -Turns his head and stares at Silvah as he starts moving towards the door.- But you cut me some slack when I needed it so I'll give you a heads up.

MAVRIK: Stay off of Lauctis. And if I ever see your face again there wont be a second time. -He needs to protect himself, and if that means pulling intimidation tactics so be it.

SILVAH: -Silvah's been doing a pretty good job of keeping his cool this whole time....but the blatant threat startles him and gives him pause,. His skin prickles like the temperature in the room dropped several degrees. It's kind of ridiculous in a way- the giant military trained troll that he is, being intimidated by a tiny thing like Mavrik. But it's not really Mavrik himself that gives him this creepy feeling but the malice in his voice. Once Silvah hears that, feels the intensity of that hatred...towards all trolls, .all the doubts in his mind are swept away. He has to get out of here and find a way to help. Even trying to postpone the music festival would be a start. Instead of turning around and talking to him again...he just keeps walking. But faster than before.- MAVRIK: -Ah. There it is. That spike of fear clear as day and absorbing Silvah in a whole new shade. He knew it. Mavrik fucking knew it. Any other person would be confused, maybe a little nervous from the death threat but look at him Silvah was a tank? Why would he be this nervous of a guy half his size. Silvah knows something is up.-

MAVRIK: -When Silvah doesnt even so much as respond and starts walking, Mavrik shoves off from the counter top and swiftly follows at his heels.- I thought you were interested in talking before. What suddenly happened to change that. SILVAH: -FUCKIN HELL, he's on to me. Silvah wonders whether it would be be better to stop and try to stall him or just make a break for it. Silvah's not the fastest person in the world, that's for damn sure....But maybe intimidation can go both ways? Just relying on instinct, he whirls around, clicking his arm into place as he turns and suddenly there's a sort of strange looking gun where his arm would be, pointing at Mavrik point blank.- Death threats don't tend t' make me too conversational, my friend.

SILVAH: Go on. Take the money 'n go on t' Lauctis and we needn't trouble eachother no more. MAVRIK: -GUN ARM!!-

MAVRIK: ................. -He stares down the barrel of where Silvah's hand used to be and internally sweats. His outward expression straining to not look fearful while a good two thirds of his own instincts tell him to flee the scene. But what use is running for self preservation if Silvah can go and tell some sort of lawful official that could start a manhunt for his ass?-

MAVRIK: -His hands twitch at his sides.- You... You dont have the nerve to fire that weapon. -steps closer just to test it.- SILVAH: -Growls when he steps closer. It's a VERY LOUD growl, like a motor revving.- Wrong. I don't wanna fire this weapon. But I will if I have to so mind your p's and q's. -He starts backing off towards the door, just interested in getting more space between he and Mavrik.- MAVRIK: -He jumps at the growl backing up again several paces, but rather then the growl completely scaring him off it just makes Mavrik raise his metaphorical hackles.-

MAVRIK: -He hisses back at him.- NO YOU WONT!!! -His gaze suddenly darts to the table next to him, Mavrik may not have super strength, but he does have enough muscle to lift and flip it towards Silvah. Get wrecked.- SILVAH: -The table never makes contact, but it does surprise Silvah into firing the gun- which turns out to actually be some kind of plasma-based blaster that basically melts the table away into pieces and dust, grinding out a stream of filthy curses under breath as he stumbles a bit, while also trying making a dive to dart out the door.- MAVRIK: -J E S U S-

MAVRIK: -He is very glad that table wasn't him, but in the time it took Silvah to demolish the table, Mavrik has skittered off and jumped onto one of the booth tables. What he might not have in size or muscle he makes up for in agility, which he demonstrates by jumping off the surface to launch himself onto Silvah's back before he can get out the door.-

MAVRIK: -Hes snarling and wide eyed, practically feral and giving into his natural urge to defend himself combined with his dangerous above average aggression. Silvah can try to throw him off but unfortunately before he can get the chance something even worse takes place. The smell of Silvah's skin so close to him... Mavrik can practically taste the sweet metallic taste of blood from memory alone and never before has it been so overwhelming that Mavrik felt as though he was practically blacking out from the scent alone.-

MAVRIK: -He doesnt even remember thinking about it first, doesn't remember doing it, but quite suddenly Mavrik opens up his mouth and sinks razor sharp fangs through Silvah's clothes and into the back of the trolls Shoulder.- SILVAH: -He doesn't yell, or scream, but let's out a furious roar of pain once he feels that swift, vicious bite that seems to cut so easily into his naturally tough seadweller hide- like the sharpest knife ever. Even if he knew that Mavrik had already gotten what he wanted, at this point he wouldn't care- his blood is up now. Since he can't reach Mavrik to shoot him, instead he rolls, slinging the creature pretending to be a troll to the floor and tying to slam his entire massive weight down on top of him.- MAVRIK: -Its like spooking a horse or any large animal, they try to crush you. Mavrik is too caught up in the rewarding buzzing through his skull from having started chewing on Silvah back, he wouldn't say each blood caste had their own unique flavor but it does taste just a little bit sweeter knowing how high up on the spectrum Silvah is.-

MAVRIK: -Not that he gets much time to savor it, Mavrik is brought back to his frazzled senses when quite suddenly his body hits the floor and there is a tremendous weight on him thats threatening to crush his already still damaged ribs to dust, he is certain one of them just completely broke given the sudden pain in his right side. Mavrik shrieks and tries thrashing and clawing to get his way out, he cant breathe with Silvah on top of him and the pain from his ribcage is growing.- SILVAH: Filthy. Cuntin'. Traitor! -He spits at the impact- the shrieks from Mavrik only intensifies his rage. His eyes are blood-shot and rimmed with purple. Here comes the gun, directly following it, the steel barrel aimed right at Mavrik's mouth which is currently stained purple with his blood. Silvah doesn't dare fire it since the plasma splash would hit him too at this range, but it makes a decent blundgeoning weapon in a pinch.- MAVRIK: -For a brief and terrifying moment Mavrik actually thinks Silvah might just shoot him in the head, but getting slugged in the mouth with the gun hand hardly feels better in the moment. He takes the shot right to his jaw and feels the crack resulting from it.-

MAVRIK: -He chokes on a yelp and wrestles to get his hands up to try and grab hold of the blunt weapon being waved in his face, all while turning to spit out a combination of Silvah's blood, his own, and bits of crushed molar.- SILVAH: -Given that it's his arm, Silvah has a much better grip on it and easily yanks it out of Mavrik's flailing hands, breathing heavily as blood spills from his shoulder in a hot gush. But instead of hitting him again, he twists at the base of his wrists again, and suddenly in place of the blaster is a blade- some kind of cutlass.- MAVRIK: -This was quickly becoming a bad fight for Mavrik, as the hands change he cant decide which attachment is worse. Gun or sword.-

MAVRIK: -It doesnt matter though because he wont willingly stick around to find out. Mavrik brings up his knees and attempts to drive his heels into Silvah's stomach as hard as he can.- GET!!! OFF!!! SILVAH: -The kick makes impact and while it doesn't manage to push Silvah completely off, it does stun him for a moment, causing him to rear back. If Mavrik is quick he might be able to squirm away before Silvah savagely brings the cutlass slashing down for a killing blow.-

MAVRIK: -He is seizing the moment and scrambling as fast as he can out from under Silvah. He almost falls flat on his face again in the process of standing up but once hes on his feet Mavrik makes a mad dash for the door. His heart beat is pounding in his ears, blood rushing, pulse rapid. All factors that make him run as fast as his quick legs can carry him.- SILVAH: Ss...son of a bitch.....-His breaths are coming in heavy puffs as he tries to drag himself to his feet again. The blood-rage is certainly strong enough that he would've gone chasing after Mavrik to finish the job despite the small chance of being able to catch up to him...but as his head clears and his heartbeat slows he realizes that they've been rolling around in a pool of his thick, purple blood and it's everywhere- on everything- soaking into his clothes, shining black in the moonlight. Mavrik's teeth were longer and sharper than Silvah ever gave them credit for- they must've hit a vein or an artery. Or something. Medicine isn't his forte. He can't even see the wound since it's at the back of his shoulder but he knows it's deep. He's begining to feel lightheaded. With a low groan, he grips a nearby table leg and drags himself to his feet, unaware that within the next couple minutes the first signs of the infection will begin to show themselves, unware that his mind is already not his own.-

#in which silvah gets bitten #mavrik #silvah balila #ip log #parasite plot

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