#also this is something vague i was hoping for but like- in the combat when ally said they wanted to go for oisin after he died at first

[dimension-20-every-introduction]

Everyone Introduced in Dimension 20's Fantasy High: Junior Year episode 20 (finale)

[adore-laur]

HOME IS A FEELING

— former high school sweethearts reunite for a conversation about what went wrong 🌃

——

"Don't turn around." 

The vague statement thrown your way sends speculations trickling through your brain. Those three words usually never mean anything good. What is it? Or who is it? Whatever the mystery, it makes you anxious based on your friend's wary expression.

"Just tell me," you say timidly, becoming tense in the diner booth with a forkful of red velvet cake halfway to your mouth. "Tell me so I don't have the urge to actually turn around." 

"Your ex," she mutters, never one to beat around the bush, much to your appreciation. "He just walked in. Don't kill me for saying this, but he looks really good." 

You kick her foot under the table and sink further into the leather seat. "Why is he here? He's supposed to be in another country." 

It's not an exaggeration or a falsity. Harry is supposed to be in not only another country but also another continent entirely—the Netherlands, to be exact.

Your friend risks another glance at the front door. "Well, he's back, and it's like he never left. Look at them..." She shakes her head slowly. "Hyping him up like he's a goddamn hero." 

You assume she means the people you went to high school with. A hometown get-together with a small crowd of classmates from nearby colleges is being held at everyone's favorite local retro-style diner to celebrate the last week of summer break. It was going swell until Mr. Marine Biologist, who probably makes studying abroad his whole personality, waltzed through the door. 

You cradle your left cheek with your hand to create a shield for your face in case he happens to look over. "I'm almost done with my cake, and then we can leave." 

"Good luck," she sings. "The only booth open is the one right behind us." 

Of course. Sighing, you silently pray that Harry won't come near you. You doubt he'll try to talk to you anyway since it's been complete radio silence on both ends for over two years. You're really hoping the breakup doesn't get brought up. 

A sudden and forceful compulsion tells you to catch a quick glimpse to see how he looks, what he wears nowadays, and how he acts when you're not around. It's hard to resist. 

"He's coming this way," alerts your friend through a spoonful of vanilla ice cream. 

The universe must be listening, and you can't combat the urge anymore. Someone as beautiful as him begs to be looked at. You sure as hell didn't break up with him because he was unattractive. 

Subtly peeking to your left, you see Harry in person for the first time in what seems like forever. It's only a short window of time where you can take in his presence as he walks closer to sit with a group of people in the booth behind you. 

Black skinny jeans. Nothing has changed there. 

Chelsea boots. Since when does he wear those? 

A gray, tattered sweater, and a blue beanie. It's summer, for crying out loud.

Most surprising, however, is his hair, which now falls just a tad below his jaw. The same soft curls you would run your fingers through until he fell asleep. 

You continue picking at your dessert, your mind running a mile a minute at the sight of him. The fact that he's behind you—thankfully facing the other way—but still inches away nonetheless is nerve-wracking. If you move your head back even the tiniest bit, it'll touch his own. 

Did he notice you? Does he know his ex-girlfriend is in the same room and thinking about everything he could be thinking? Like how you never forgot about him as much as you tried to? 

He's speaking, but you can't piece together what he's saying because you're too distracted by how his voice has deepened over the years. The rasp and British drawl are still there, and the warmth and comfort of them still make your heart race.

Your friend keeps stealing glances and looking at you with apprehensive eyes that cause prickles of anxiety on your skin. "What?" you whisper.

Before she can reply, you feel something nudge the back of your neck. You strain your peripheral vision and see Harry's elbow resting on the top of your booth. 

"Oops, sorry," he says, twisting around in his seat. 

You automatically turn and look at him. It's impossible not to, since he's like a human magnet for the eyes. His face is so close to yours now. Have his eyes gotten greener? Why does he have such beautiful lashes? Does he have more freckles on his nose since you saw him last? 

Snap out of it! 

"It's fine," you mumble, shaking your head and quickly turning around. Your heart feels like it's in your throat. 

After finishing the rest of your dessert, you lean forward so he doesn't accidentally bump you again. Your friend raises her eyebrows at you and taps her foot against yours. 

"So, your brother is coming to visit soon?" you ask, ignoring her questioning look and attempting to make any sort of conversation to distract from Harry. 

"Yeah, tomorrow. My mom is going to weep happy tears."

"Aw. Remind me to visit her before the semester starts." 

The leather seat suddenly squeaks behind you, and your breathing goes uneven for the third time tonight. 

"You guys want anything to drink?" Harry asks his group of friends. 

They all tell him their desired orders, and shortly after, you see him walk past your booth. He heads toward the counter with long strides and hands he doesn't know what to do with. His back is turned, so you use your chance to shamelessly observe him. He looks different but is familiar all the same. He has the same body, although he looks buff. Same friendly personality, although you've missed out on it lately. Same gentle presence, although it wasn't that way the night you separated. 

"Didn't you once tell me that he always ordered ginger ale at restaurants?" 

You look at your friend, processing her question. "Yes. He never mixed it with anything, either. Just drank it straight up like a freak." 

"Gross," she says with a wince. "I think he just ordered one." 

Once again, the counter is your focal point; this time, you notice the glass of creamy yellow liquid on it. You internally gag at how Harry could still drink that. Harry then walks back to his booth, skillfully carrying two glasses in each of his hands, like he worked as a waiter in his past life. You don't even try to hide the fact that you're staring. 

Eventually, he catches your eye and abruptly stops in his tracks. You watch him blink a couple times before he continues to the table and sets down the drinks for everyone. 

"I'll grab some napkins," he murmurs, leaving again. 

You slide your empty plate toward the center of the table and watch him fumble while taking out napkins from the dispenser. Why is he so nervous all of a sudden? 

When he walks by for the second time, he jerks his chin up to the ceiling. You furrow your eyebrows in response. 

He nonchalantly repeats the gesture as he starts passing napkins around. You shake your head, nonverbally telling him that you have no clue what he's conveying. 

His jaw clenches before he mouths, "Come with me." 

"Absolutely not," you mouth back as you fiddle with the sugar packets. 

Harry huffs and sits in his seat. 

Everything used to be so easy with him. 

—— 

Two Years Ago

It was graduation day, and you were inserting a silver hoop earring in the pierced hole of your earlobe when three thumps gently rattled your bedroom door. 

"Knock knock." 

In the reflection of your vanity mirror, you grinned giddily. "Come in! It's unlocked." 

Harry opened the door with a pout on his lips. "You're supposed to say who's there." 

"Wha—" you stammered confusedly, turning around in your chair. "I hate you." 

He shuffled inside and immediately bellyflopped onto your bed. "Wow. I missed you too." 

"Just kidding," you said, flashing him a winning smile. "You left your laptop charger here, by the way. I set it on the kitchen table." 

"Thank you, baby," he mumbled into your pillow. 

"Don't fall asleep."

"Mm, c'mere." He lazily patted the space next to him. "Let's cuddle before we have to sit far away from each other for the rest of the night." 

"It'll only be for a couple of hours at most," you replied, putting in your other earring. "Don't be so dramatic."

After tidying your vanity area, you stood and slinked into bed with Harry. The lavender-colored sunset filtered through your sheer curtains and created a serene ambiance. Harry's body rolled over on top of yours, his weight providing the perfect amount of warmth and comfort. The scent of his almond oil shampoo reduced your nerves. You reached for your phone and set an alarm for fifteen minutes from now so he would have enough time to get ready, then pulled the blanket over both of your heads, not caring if the hair you spent precious time on became tousled. It would mostly be hidden under the immensely unflattering graduation cap anyway. 

Harry's clean-shaven cheek rested on your chest, and he planted a chaste kiss on your collarbone. He had always been the affectionate type. Touch was his love language, and he never failed to fulfill it with you. 

Every touch strengthened your love for him. Every touch left you longing for more. Every touch felt purposeful. 

—— 

You swear he's doing it on purpose. You know he is. 

Harry keeps leaning his head back until it faintly touches yours. Nuzzling it, if you will. That, or he'll clasp his hands behind his head and loosely twirl a strand of your hair. 

This time, he pretends to yawn and stretch his arms before tickling behind your ear. He knows goddamn well it's the place where you're the most ticklish. You pretend to have an itch and bring your hands back to slap his burning touch away, but of course, he takes the opportunity to be a pest and capture your fingers. 

You yank them away and clear your throat. "I need to go to the bathroom," you tell your friend before getting up and making a beeline straight to the back of the diner. 

When you open the door, you sigh relievedly when you find all the stalls open and no one is lingering. You pace toward the farthest wall and rub your hands down your face. Two years without Harry, and not a single call or text—only the occasional picture you'd see of him when you caved and scrolled through his social media during particularly lonely nights. Yet tonight, he acts like you're best buds who can tease each other and initiate playful touches, like you didn't end on a terrible note that made both of your hearts shatter into smithereens. Maybe this is some bizarre dream you'll wake up from and laugh about later. 

You blow out a sharp breath and wash your hands before splashing cold water onto your heated cheeks. 

"Were my hands dirty or something?" 

Your whole body flinches. Now, he's just plain annoying. How long has he been standing there? 

"Why are you in here?" you ask monotonously. 

Footsteps come closer. You keep your back turned. 

He laughs softly and says, "How've you been?" 

Such a master at avoiding questions. "That wasn't what I asked." 

"That wasn't an answer," he replies smugly. You can practically hear the satisfied smile in his voice. 

"I've been fantastic, Harry," you say, your words laced with petty sarcasm. "What about you?" 

"You sound stressed." He's right next to you now. "Is it because of your job? I heard you're an assistant teacher at the middle school." 

Your hands grip the edge of the marble sink. "Who told you that?" 

"I knew you'd be here," he says, as if it were obvious. "I had to ask people what you've been up to since you clearly weren't going to tell me yourself." 

He asked about you. No, that can't be right. Turning to face him, you let your guard down just a little. "I'm helping with the summer school program." 

Harry smiles. If you analyze it enough, it almost looks like a proud one. "That's amazing. What grade do you want to teach in the future?" 

A conversation with your ex-boyfriend about career aspirations is entirely too casual for your liking. Doesn't he have friends to catch up with? Some ginger ale to drink? 

You shrug and truthfully say, "I haven't decided yet. It's a big decision." 

He nods, crossing his arms. "You've got time." 

Silence hangs except for the drip of the faucet. 

"So... I assume you're still studying marine biology?" you ask, already knowing the answer. 

He hums an affirmation. "I'm almost done with my bachelor's degree, and then I'll be on my way to becoming one with the ocean." 

You almost let a laugh slip out. "Well, I'm sure it's beautiful in Europe. I can't imagine the view every day." 

He nonchalantly plucks a stray strand of hair off your sleeve, making your blood rush. "It is, yeah. It gets a little lonely sometimes, but it's been nice to live somewhere so different from what I was used to." 

"You don't have a roommate?"

"Nope, just me. I don't really like sharing my space." 

Only if it was with you. He's told you that before. Not that it matters now.

"I know. I don't know why I even asked." 

It's a bold statement but a tenuous breakthrough in the barrier of the inevitable and awkward breakup conversation you're dreading. 

Harry inhales and takes a step closer. "Come up to the rooftop with me. I don't want our first conversation in two years to be in the women's restroom." 

You give him an apologetic look and say, "I'm sorry, but I can't. I have to head home soon and get up early for work tomorrow." 

He toys with the bottom of your shirt. "Please." 

It's a soft whisper that echos in the empty space, a begging tone chipping away at the walls built around your heart, paired with pleading eyes so clear and tender. Harmless.

"Okay." You'll kick yourself later for giving in so easily. "Okay, fine. Let's go." You pull out your phone and send a quick text message to your friend about where you'll be. She'll understand the weight of the situation. 

Harry walks out of the bathroom, with you following behind. He takes a sharp right toward the concealed metal stairs leading to the diner's roof. He leaves some room so the two of you can walk side by side, your clothes rustling against each other in the narrow space. The rusty door opens, and you step out onto the flat concrete. 

Little squares of light shine from the city buildings far away. They cause a strange feeling to wash over you. It can only be described as a powerful wave of hometown nostalgia, even though you never left. You wonder if it's hitting Harry as well. 

He stands by the edge and leans his forearms on the railing, glancing at you with an unreadable expression. Is it reminiscence? Yearning? Regret? All could be the reason for the melancholy shift in energy. 

"What did we do wrong?" 

—— 

Three Months After Graduation

The party turned sour out of the blue. Harry's friend hadn't just said what you think he said. It was loud, so you must have heard him wrong. Why didn't he tell you? Why did you have to find out from his drunk friend, who's not even close to him? 

Harry definitely saw your face drop because he instantly pulled you into an unoccupied bedroom upstairs. You'd been arguing for the past half hour, neither one of you inebriated funny enough, but still throwing words that were more like weapons at each other—launching arrows at the heart, shooting daggers at the eyes, and slashing swords in the Achilles heel. 

Your weak spot was him, and you were his. 

You stood your ground as you spoke your closing statement with frustrated tears. "I'm never going to see you if you're abroad, so what's the difference if I just leave now and never see you again?" 

"Will that make you happy?" He was being stubborn; you were, too. "Because obviously, I don't make you happy enough for this to continue. For us to at least try." 

He did make you happy, but anger blindly leads people to say what they don't mean, especially in cases of love. 

"Obviously not." Lies, lies, lies. "It's useless when we know it'll end badly." 

Harry released a bitter laugh. "Fine. Have it your way." 

"Fine," you repeated. 

You should have fought for him, but what would have been the use if you had known it would only hurt you in the long run? 

He roughly swung the door open and then turned around one last time. "You can come pick up your stuff at my house this weekend. I won't be home." 

The door slammed shut, and reality sank in. 

—— 

The open sign of the diner flickers below. 

"We did a lot wrong," you declare defeatedly, standing beside him. 

"True, but we were eighteen and didn't know anything about communication or how to balance adult shit." 

The conversation is heading toward a place you don't want it to go. "I really don't want to talk about our breakup, Harry. It's in the past. We've moved on." 

He shakes his head. "Why? There was no closure whatsoever. I think it'd be good to get some now that we're face-to-face." 

In the distance, you watch birds flock on the wire of a telephone pole. "Why didn't you just ignore me tonight? We've been doing fine without each other." 

He scoffs quietly and leans his body against the railing. "Really? I was homesick for months because of you. You felt like home to me; you know that. The feeling never disappeared, no matter how much I pushed it down." 

You throw your arms out. "Then why didn't you call or text me? I would've replied, Harry. I'm not that cruel." 

"I thought you hated me," he says. "I wouldn't have blamed you. I just couldn't stand having you hate me, so I thought it'd be easier not to talk to you." 

It's the classic tale of a high school mindset. You think you're doing the right thing until it slaps you across the face with the hand of cluelessness. You wonder what would've happened if Harry had reached out. Maybe you could've figured it out. 

"I didn't hate you," you admit. How could anyone hate him? "I mean, I might've thought that I hated you, but if anything, I still loved you for way too many months after." 

Harry looks like he wants to say something, but you continue. "Like you said, we were young and didn't know how to balance a relationship and our lives outside of it. Two years can really mature a person, and we both needed to do that without each other." 

He nods while stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Yeah." 

The conversation stops at a dead end. There's nothing else to say since it's a mutual understanding of what went wrong. 

The breeze picks up, and you shiver before asking, "How long are you here for?" 

He clears his throat. "I'm staying with my mother, then I have a flight back to the Netherlands in a few days. I have to go back for an ecology camp." 

"That's nice," you say. A couple of days. That knowledge causes an unwanted sinking feeling to take place in your stomach. 

"Do you…" He raises his thumb to his mouth, nervously biting his fingernail. "Can we maybe talk more before I leave?" 

It's an open opportunity, but what would it lead to? What would come of it? Would it be worth the pain? 

"What's there to talk about? You're leaving soon, and then we'll never speak again." 

You've taken logical truth more seriously over the years. You've learned that holding on to false hope is dangerous for the heart and mind.

"That won't happen," he replies with a pensive gaze. "We've grown and know how to communicate now. There's so much we've missed in each other's lives that we can talk about. I don't know where you live or the places you like to go anymore, who your friends are, or what new songs you like to listen to. It kills me." 

A shaky breath escapes you. "It doesn't matter. We're not right for each other. Call me selfish, but I don't want a relationship where we barely see each other. I'm sure that's not what you want either." 

"So, that's it?" he asks, staring at the sky. "Do you not want to give this another chance?" 

You can't imagine a more complicated question to answer, but it seems you've known the answer for a while. Gently grabbing Harry's chin and tilting his face down, you say, "Right person, wrong time. It would never work with the distance, and you know that. Deep down, we both know, as much as it hurts to admit."

"What now? Are we back to being strangers?" 

"Harry, I don't think we'll ever be strangers. I know too much about you." 

You're trying to lighten the mood, but Harry's sad eyes aren't helping at all. Instead, you focus on the stars twinkling brightly across the black sky and the single car driving by on the otherwise empty street. Every second that ticks by, he seems to move closer to you. 

"If this is the last time I see you," Harry says apprehensively, "can I hold you for a little while? Give me that, and I won't ask you for anything else." 

It'd be foolish to say no, wouldn't it? You need to feel him just as much. He's too significant of a person to let go of without saying a proper goodbye.

"You can hold me." 

And so he does it for the last time. 

Harry closes the distance and embraces you like he always used to—his cheek resting on your head and his arms completely around you, squeezing the sides of your body. He's breathing you in, like he's scared of losing you. It's just you and him standing on a rooftop and holding on to any last bit you can get of each other. 

You're tucked so far into his chest that the only thing you can hear is his heart pounding. He's warm and sentimental, and the nighttime chill makes you melt into him even more. He eases you—every laugh, every tear, every moment you share with him was brought about by the ease of being around him. 

"You still feel the same." A pang ripples in your heart because of your own words, and a sob desperately tries to crawl up your throat. 

Harry nuzzles his nose into your hair. "Yeah? You still smell the same." 

You laugh, but it's choked with sadness. "What, like shitty teen store perfume?" 

"No, you smell like home. Like when I used to go to your house for sleepovers, and you'd always light those vanilla candles." 

Another pang, this time from his vulnerable confession. "I should go," you say, deterring the conversation from any more agony. 

He doesn't argue. "Yeah, me too. I never really liked those people in there anyway." 

You smile, stepping away from his arms. "I'll walk you to your car." 

He nods, and the both of you retreat down the stairs, exiting the building through the back way to avoid any distractions. After reaching the front of the diner, you find his black Jeep sitting alone in a parking space. It's nice to know he still has it, considering it's a car with good memories, like Harry driving you to school every morning and picking up coffee. Or eating fast food outside the high school after a football game. Or nights of endless kissing and professions of love before he walked you to your doorstep.

Facing him under the moonlight tonight, it's time to officially move on. 

"Bye. It was really nice to see you." A tear unexpectedly falls from your eye. Maybe it's due to the chilly temperature, but you know better. 

Harry's face crumbles. Your composure shatters. 

"Please don't cry," he pleads, biting his lip to stop it from wobbling. However, it's too late, and both of you give in to the misery and drama of it all.

"Now we're both crying."

He rubs his eyes and leans against his car door. "God, this fuckin' sucks." 

"We'll be okay," you say weakly. "It's fine. We went two years without each other. You'll forget about me soon enough, and it'll be like this never happened." 

You're only trying to convince yourself at this point. 

"I never forgot about you. You were the first person I fell in love with. How do I move on from that?" 

His choice of words isn't something you gloss over. Is he insinuating that he hasn't moved on yet? Should you tell him you haven't either? 

Logical thinking, you mentally tell yourself. Don't say something that will make it harder to leave.

"I have to go home now." But isn't home standing right in front of you? 

"Okay," Harry says. "I guess… Good luck with everything. I hope teaching goes well for you." 

You kick away a pebble on the pavement. "Thanks. I hope you become one with the ocean." 

He laughs breathily, his dimples popping out for the first time tonight. He then inhales and gazes somewhere far away as his smile dies. When he looks back at you, he nods once before getting in his car. 

"Wait."

He freezes. "Yeah?"

Don't make it harder.

Leave. 

Don't hurt yourself. 

Yet the way he looks at you is enough to make you ignore those logical thoughts. You lean forward and kiss his cold cheek, and it's like his entire body deflates under your hesitant touch. "Thank you for making me happy during the time we had together," you say against his tear-stained skin. "I never got to tell you that."

Harry sniffles and nods, then kisses your cheek a little longer and softer.

A lasting pang. A lingering sting. A sharp twinge. 

Why? 

Because the words he whispers to you cause silent tears to fall down your face when he finally closes the door and drives away. 

You still mean so much to me. 

—— 

Opening the door to your bedroom, the silence echoes louder than usual. The small space is where memories of Harry can still be found. There's the blanket he used to lie on, the desk he would sit on to help you study, and the dresser you used to keep his shirts in to wear when you missed him. The most tragic thing is an empty photo book on the top shelf of your closet that was meant to be filled with future road trips that never got planned. Next to it are unused polaroids for dates that stopped happening. 

Piled at the bottom are a few that actually got used. A picture of Harry when the both of you went to a homecoming afterparty, and you didn't want to drink alcohol, so Harry drank orange Hi-C cartons with you to make you feel better. A picture of Harry on a floating water bouncer at the lake by your uncle's cabin when you went on summer vacation together after junior year. Your favorite picture of him is when he's turned around in the seat of the school auditorium, smiling widely. It was back in high school when nothing could separate you from him. 

The pictures remind you of a time when you were in love—not only with him but with life. They feel like home to you. 

That feeling of home seems impossible to catch now. It's like chasing a butterfly that keeps escaping from the loose grasp of your hands because you don't want to hurt it. 

Are you the hands, or are you the butterfly? 

—— 

The journal on top of Harry's suitcase mocks him. He shouldn't open it, but logical thinking has never been his strong suit. 

The first page has pressed and dried lavender taped to it from the first date he took you on. The next has your drawings in the margin from when you stole his journal while he studied. Yet most of the pages are filled with lovesick entries about you. 

January 29th 

Last night, I told her I was falling in love with her. She said no one had ever told her that before, and I couldn't believe it. How could someone not instantly fall in love the moment she walks into a room? 

Then she told me that she loved me too. I swear, I almost cried with happiness. She's the one for me. I see us being together for the long haul. 

I hope she sees the same thing. 

June 6th 

We graduated! We're finally done with high school!

When they called my name, my eyes went to hers first. She looked so proud of me. I wonder if I could convince her to rent an apartment with me instead of staying in different dorms. 

College will be strange, but we'll get through it together. I have no doubt we'll adapt and find time for each other. 

I always have time for her. 

August 2nd 

I think I'm going to tell her about the college I chose. She's not going to take it well. It's abroad, but it's the best school for marine biology. 

She wants to stay close to home, but I want to get out and travel. There's nothing hard about talking through some of our differences, right? Long-distance relationships can work if you put in the effort. We can do it. 

If this ends up biting me in the ass, you'll never hear from me again. 

Harry stopped writing in his journal after the breakup. It's almost funny, he supposes. He jinxed it in the last entry. He thought of the worst-case scenario, and it came to fruition right before him only days later. 

Blissful ignorance is what he'll call it. Two high school sweethearts who didn't know what would hit them. Foolishly in love and blinded by reality. But the thing is, it's not easy to just move on from it. Especially when he brought those damn vanilla candles from his dorm room to his mother's house so he could sleep better at night. 

So he can be reminded of home. 

It was never a place when he was with you. Home became a feeling that bloomed without warning. It took him by surprise when he found himself wanting to be around you all the time. Home was entirely, ultimately, and unconditionally you. 

Harry closes his journal and brings it with him as he heads out the door to search for a drop of that feeling in the places you used to go. 

The places he will write about until his hand aches as much as his heart. 

——

[another-lost-mc]

(Fallen) Angels Round Table Discussion: Fashion

Featuring: A mixed bag of canon and OC angels and some of their fallen brethren.

"So, honest question - who comes up with these outfit designs?"

GABRIEL: Most angels meet with someone from the tailoring guild and they can request what sorts of clothing they'd like.

SERAPHIEL: Clothing is also a popular gift for angels that pass their ascension trials.

"Does hierarchy or rank have anything to do with the types of clothes angels are allowed to wear?"

SIMEON: Not really. It mostly boils down to preference. Certain styles are more practical than others too. For example, most of the warriors choose not to wear robes on a daily basis. I only wear mine for very special occasions.

METATRON: Michael and Lucifer couldn't be more different style-wise and they were both Seraphs.

MICHAEL: I designed a new outfit for Lucifer that was a little bit more...relaxed...but he wouldn't wear it. Asmodeus even helped with it.

LUCIFER: That’s exactly why I refused. You show enough skin for both of us.

"Now that you mention it, is there a practical reason for designing tight clothes with, um, decorative cut-outs?"

RAPHAEL: It helps us stay cool and prevent heat sickness during our hottest season.

HABUHIAH: Loose clothing isn't comfortable to wear underneath armor.

RAPHAEL: I don't think that's much of a concern anymore.

HABUHIAH: You have more faith than I do when it comes to certain demons.

BELIAL: Are you still upset about our little scuffle in the human world? It's been nearly five-thousand years.

URIEL: You mean the pointless war that you started?

BELIAL: It was actually very profitable.

URIEL: You're the worst.

GABRIEL: Shh, darling. Just pretend he's not here.

BELIAL: That's not very nice, Gabe. You haven't missed me even a teeny-tiny bit?

HABUHIAH: You can't be serious.

METATRON: If we have time later, I'd love to talk to you about your involvement in that skirmish. The official records we have aren't very detailed.

BELIAL: Say no more! I'd be delighted to stay as long as necessary and—

GABRIEL: Absolutely not.

"So, back to the whole why angelic clothing is so revealing thing...?”

SERAPHIEL: Right. Well, from a utility point of view, form-fitted clothes usually work best because you still want to be able to move your body freely without any restrictions. Wearing something flimsy like a cloak is a potential disaster too, at least if you're in a fight.

RAPHAEL: Michael learned that the hard way.

URIEL: The younglings were in the garden and got a firsthand demonstration about combat safety so at least something good came from it.

MICHAEL: You set your cloak on fire by accident one time and your friends never let you forget it.

RAPHAEL: That was an accident? I thought you did it on purpose to get out of training that day.

SIMEON: The point is, a lot of those considerations aren't as important as they used to be. Now we simply wear what we like.

AZRA: Are we going to gloss over the other very important reason? That some of us just wanted to look good?

LUCIFER: Riveting input from our resident incubus.

HABUHIAH: What's that gesture Azazel is making with his hand?

SERAPHIEL: I'm not sure, but judging by Lucifer's expression it's probably not nice.

MICHAEL: Their demonic forms are much more impressive than the photos I've seen on Devilgram.

RAPHAEL: Should we try to stop them?

SIMEON: It's more entertaining if we don't.

METATRON: But I don't want anyone to get hurt.

URIEL: Wait, why is Belial fighting now too?

SERAPHIEL: He's upset that his suit got scorched when one of their wayward spells hit him by accident.

GABRIEL: I hope you're pleased with yourself since this was all your idea, Michael. But I have to admit, I expected much worse.

MICHAEL: See, I told you not to worry. It's just like old times!

A/N: Here's something silly that helped distract me from real life stuff that's kept me busy lately. This vaguely incorporates some Celestial Realm headcanons/worldbuilding, and to be honest, I just wanted to throw these characters into a room and see what happened. (Chaos. Chaos happened.)

[fizzy-fuzz]

Hi! I saw that your requests are open? I apologize if this request is a bit too uncomfortable for you.

I would like to request some preferably headcanons of SCP-073 and SCP-076-2 when they find out they have feelings for a (preferably male please, there's too many females out there already ;-;, no offense for the women out there) Researcher? Like how do they deal with it, how long it takes for them to confess, etc?

I am desperate for some SCP-073 x Male!Reader, and SCP-076-2 x Male!Reader cause there's too many Female/Gender-Neutral (but still has female traits for some reason) reader ;-;

AN: Hello! Sorry this took awhile... I honestly kept rewriting this because I wasn't sure how to make this feel like it was written for a man, and not just something vague for everyone.

I added a few headcanons for how they'd treat a male lover over a female, So i hope this is okay for you.

if not I'd love to hear some tips on how to make it better, if you're willing to give feedback <3 (just message me, or send in another ask. I can't reply to comments since this isn't my main account)

SCP-073 (Cain)

⁠You both probably ment pretty casually. Maybe during lunch or just passing by in the hallways.

Cain didn't think much of you at first honestly.

Until he was passing by your office and heard you arguing with another researcher about the ethics of using him as an live information vault.

He stopped for a moment and lingered outside of your office, listening to you rant about how it wasn't fair to him.

He was honestly shocked, in a good way.

Cain was used to people being... Decent to him, sure.

But to have someone so passionately argue his happiness?

Unheard of.

Cain is quick to fall for you after that, and boy does he fall hard.

he deals with these new feelings by following his heart blindly.

Often hanging around you and lending hands wherever he can.

When he works up the courage his confession is sickly sweet, filled with stutters and nervous chuckles.

I also feel like he's the type of guy to write a confession poem.

He's just whipped like that.

If you accept, (which honestly, who would reject him?) He'll be overjoyed!

Man or not, Cain takes the lead in the relationship for the most part.

Throwing an arm around your shoulders, holding doors for you, giving you flowers (plastic, of course)

though, I do think he treats a male lover slightly different then a female.

He's slightly less watchful over you, less protective in general.

It's not that he cares less, just that he's less worried about you.

Also, for some reason I feel like he'd play wrestle with a male lover a lot.

Expect to be put in a gentle/playful headlock.

At the end of the day, Cain is still the sweet golden retriever boy he is.

That definitely doesn't change at all.

SCP-076-2 (Able)

He ment you during one of his rampages, when you got separated from the task force that was escorting you to safety.

Left alone with nothing but a small pistol to defend yourself with.

He quickly gained a large portion of respect for you when you held your ground against him despite being just a researcher.

Not once did you look cowardly or frightened, clutching your guns with a rather good poster and stance, despite your minimal combat training.

Truly a respectable sight to behold.

And Able knows a warrior when he sees one.

In fact, you were so ferocious that he paused his pursuit for just a moment to study you.

A moment long enough for you to shove your gun to his chin and blow his brains out.

I would say that's when the first few sparks flew for him.

After that, every other rampage was spent looking for you, and ending with you putting a bullet through his head.

I don't think he's all that in tune with his feelings, so he definitely doesn't get that what he's feeling is attraction, and not just respect/interest

He's got a thick skull, it takes him awhile...

But when he does realize. he's confused, and a little unsure of himself.

He's really never felt this way about a man before.

He's never felt this way about anyone before.

He's felt pretty much nothing but anger and desire for vengeance for such a long time, that this new feeling is as overwhelming as it is relieving.

I imagine he holes himself up within SCP-076-1 for a few days he learns to deal with these new feelings.

Of course you're the one sent in to confront him about his sudden strange behavior.

Since he's somewhat more docile around you.

This is when he takes his opportunity to confess to you.

Don't expect anything heartfelt or romantic, it's more of a spur-of-the-moment decision then anything.

And don't expect any hints beforehand.

He doesn't get a whole lot of privacy, so he thought it'd be a good spot to do so.

You'd probably be pretty confused i'd imagine, considering you thought he had some sort of bloodlust for you.

Turns out it was a different kind of lust

but we're gonna assume you don't reject his sudden confession, and choose to start a relationship with him.

Contrary to Cain, you're going to have to take the lead with this relationship.

I just can't imagine him being a very confident lover.

Confident in battle yes, but in the art of love? Nah, it's just not happening.

I don't think he'd treat a male lover any differently than a female lover.

I just don't think he's aware of typical relationship "gender norms" like that.

He's just as likely to follow you around frothing at the mouth whenever someone gets to close for his liking as he is a woman.

He's very jealous...

But overall, his dreams for you and him stay the same regardless of gender.

To live somewhere remote where it's just you, him, and his herd of sheep.

[timdrakes-sleepschedule]

Hey, for hc/prompt stuff

De-aged to like 8 years old after the death of his parents and becoming Robin Dick and how the family would handle him. Maybe he has vague notions of who they are and what's going on, but not enough for him to act like his adult self

Here's my take :

I'd like to think that 8 year old kiddie Dick Grayson was the very quiet and polite yet expressive type growing up with his parents and still is even after the incident with those around him, he didn't let his emotions get the best of him. He was raised to be understanding of the any situation given at him, even if it was dire one, he had high emotional intelligence. Given this, instances of 8 year old Dick Grayson would be the goody two shoes helping around Alfred around the manor even if Alfred had told him to stay put and that he could handle it himself. Yet Dick still chooses to do so anyway. Running around the manor while looking for something to do as he explored every nook and cranny, the contant yelling of “Mister Pennyworth!” when he finds something that would peak his curiosity, ending up with Alfred explaining each painting hung on the wall and displays the manor had.

With bruce however, training him to be robin was almost easy. Almost. Having him to agree to robin? He didn't seem to question it so much, wanting to take down the "bad guys" that existed and like the people who caused his parent's death.

Dick Grayson learning a type of combat move would take only an hour for him to get the handle of it, and he was determined in learning. As well as with his natural skill, this made him turn out to be one of the most competent and ideal robins, the standard. Remember when I said it was almost too easy? This is where I think Dick would get a little stubborn, a little too stubborn at some instances. He is still a kid after all. Not being able catch some criminal/mugger when they got away, going “if only I was, better Mr Wayne.." or "I should have.." This is when Bruce definitely tells him and teaches him the aspect of things he can't changed, and that they as a duo would just have to do better to catch them next time.

I hope you liked my take on this! thank you also to hisaribi for also being my first prompt/hc sender :)) 🤍

[helyiios]

Shitty pedagogy and vaguely masochistic tendencies : a study of Team Hunt handling trainees

(Team Hunt dynamics, Ethan/Benji in the background, 3.1k)

this one goes out to @liass-21 because this is a stupid thing we've brewed yesterday at like 1AM or something

When they'd learnt they'd get a special, week long training with the members of Team Hunt, the new batch of agents in training had felt particularly proud and lucky. A little fearful, too, but they were more than ready to be able to learn from the greats. There were 60 of them, all split in teams of 15. Each member of Team Hunt had agreed to it, except for Luther Stickell, who had told Secretary Hunley, that, he quotes, "could not be fucking bothered." 

Which led them to this, standing awkwardly in the middle of a massive amphitheater, in their training clothes, waiting for the legends to deign arrive. When they did, the trainees couldn't help but feel sweat drip down their spines. Would they ever amount to what would be expected of them ? Could they prove their worth ? They sure hoped so. 

"Hello, everyone," Ethan fucking Hunt said first, looking extremely relaxed in his teeshirt and jeans, "it's nice to meet you all. I'm Ethan Hunt, special field agent for the IMF, and team leader. As you know, we've been asked to supervise you this week, and we all look forward to it. We all specialise in different areas during missions, but we've all received the same training, which covers everything from honeypot situations to sharpshooting. A week is not a long time to develop your skills, but we're hoping to help you with it. Do your best and you'll be alright. Now, I'll let my team present themselves," he adds, gesturing at the two men and the woman besides him. 

She's the first to step forward, also dressed casually, hair in a loose ponytail. Her face is warm, compared to those of the two other men. 

"I'm Jane Carter. Field agent. I specialise in hand-to-hand combat, it's very nice to meet you. I hope we will work well together." 

"William Brandt," the man in the sharp grey suit says then, raising one hand. "Assistant to the Secretary. I don't go out in the field as much as these two anymore," he adds, pointing at his teammates, "but don't let it fool you. I expect a lot from you all, and I will not go easy on any of you." 

He finally turns to the last agent, a tall blond man who was wearing a seemingly fitted navy blue suit and an undone white shirt under—slightly less formal than Brandt, but still less casual than the two others. He'd actually been on his phone the whole time, typing something with his right thumb, face fully focused. There's an awkward silence in the room that lasts for a few seconds, and a cough from Ethan before he actually looks up, blinking and sniffing unceremoniously. 

"Right," he mumbles, putting his phone back in his pocket, a heavy British accent lacing his words, "I'm Benjamin Dunn. Field agent and Field technician. Huh. Nice to meet you all." 

The trainees look at each other, unanimously deciding that he looked the most unassuming of the bunch. His posture was awkward, and slouched, and so were his words. Clearly, he seemed to be the weakest link.

Ethan Hunt was a legend, someone who defied the odds, Jane Carter looked like she could kill you by just blinking, and William Brandt looked weirdly psychorigid. If anything, whichever team got Benjamin Dunn would be the luckiest. Plus, what was there to expect from a technician ? 

They're all split evenly a few minutes later, each team heading out of the room to other ones, specially arranged for their training. Hunt, for some weird reason, had sent an odd look to the team that had drawn Dunn. He had sent an odd look to Dunn period, actually, but none of the trainees tried to really focus on that. 

There were various sports and gym-like contraptions in the wide room, some treadmills, ropes, dumbbells, and more. And a desk, too, for some fucking reason. Benji Dunn makes a beeline towards it, sitting loudly in the chair and raising his legs to slam his feet on the table. He looked at his team through his long lashes, decidedly unphased. 

"Twenty minutes on the treadmills at 12kmph, or 7.4mph for your Americans," he says mildly. "By the end of the week, I want you to run at 10mph for at least ten minutes." 

"WHAT ?!" the vast majority of his team blurts out, eyes wide and mouth hanging low, "but sir, that's not—" 

"Official training makes you run at 9mph for ten minutes. Why are you complaining ?" 

Some of the men recoil, clearly taken aback by his tone. This was definitely not what they had expected from him. 

"But can't we start with some hand-to-hand combat ?" someone else whines, probably feeling bold, "what use is it to run ? We all know how to that." 

"Yeah, and you won't have the cardio for a proper fight," Benji replies simply, eyes back on his phone screen. Faint noises come out from it, something oddly familiar, and then they realise—

Was he playing fucking Subway Surfers ?

"What would you know about that ?" a young woman retorts, hands on her hips, "you're a field tech. You probably don't want to teach us combat because you actually don't know how do it." 

Benji actually looks up at that, mouth contorting slightly, trying to stay quiet before—

Before he snorts, covering his face and turning away a little to try and hide his hilarity. Now he's full on giggling, which doesn't help with the frustrated blush on the poor woman's face. This goes on for a few seconds before he wipes his eyes, shaking his head slightly. With an exaggerated display of effort he gets back up, cracking his neck and walking over to them. He plants himself in front of the trainee, towering her and cocking his head to the side. 

"You're lucky I have one hundred and twenty four blue keys in my game," he begins, "because I was beating my personal record, just now. I'm not teaching you hand-to-hand combat because you wouldn't be good at it. You need to work on your stamina, first." 

"Or maybe we can use the element of surprise !" someone behind him shouts, and he groans before stepping aside, watching the other trainee miss him by a few centimeters. He defeatedly watches him try and take a swing at him, moving his hands uselessly in the hair, and he can't help but think about Ilsa. It would've been fun to see her do that thigh movement she always used. Once, Jane had said that she'd found it hot, and he'd gagged. 

Whatever. He focuses back on that poor kid who was stalling, throwing hits here and there, and Benji simply kept wobbling from one feet to another to avoid him. It was sort of pathetic, kind of like that time in Vienna when Ethan had to fight that super tall guy. 

With a sigh he finally grabs his wrist, twisting it slightly until the trainee had to put a knee down, whimpering in pain.  Benji kept twisting, looking at him in sheer disinterest. It was not until he'd heard him beg for him to let go that he steps back, putting his hands back in his pockets. Some other trainees had jumped to their teammate's rescue, looking at his reddening muscles in worry.

"Now," Benji says, tone bored, "can you get on those fucking treadmills ?" 

His team looks at him dejectedly, and they all find themselves a spot. There are a few that cannot, due to a lack of enough equipment, and they vaguely wonder if that meant they were safe. 

"You all," he however calls out to them, arms crossed, "fifty pushups, fifty bungees. Repeat until I say it's over." 

"What the fuck," one of the trainees mutters, and suddenly they're jealous of the assholes who were about to go run. 

They get to work, though, even if most of them curse all the way through it. Hours pass, they switch exercises, and they're already sweating buckets. 

"I need to go talk to Hunt," Benji then suddenly says, gesturing at them vaguely, "keep on doing what you're doing. There's a camera watching you. If you don't do as told, I'm going to get real fucking annoyed. Got it ?" 

They all groan in agreement, and then he's disappeared from the room altogether. They look at each other, some with tears of exhaustion in their eyes, but they get back to their activities nonetheless.

—

"Working hard or hardly working ?" Ethan says as soon as he spots his husband, offering him his brightest smile, "how are they doing ?" 

"Why did I agree to this ?" Benji whines, letting his head drop in the crook of the other man's neck, "this is so boring ! They're so boring ! None of them can run at a decent pace !" 

"Define decent ?" 

"15kmph ?" 

"Yeah," Ethan snorts, "that's not decent. Wait—are you torturing those kids ?" 

A shrug.

"Benji !" 

"What ? They're not kids ! They're, fucking—I dunno, over twenty five ! They're full blow adults, they pay their taxes ! You know what some girl told me ? Huuuuh, you're not making us fight because you're a field tech and you don't know how to !" he says, voice pitched higher and tone full on mocking. "Like, who does she thing she is ?" 

"Baby—" 

"And when I passed the field exam, they made me run at 17kmph. And I was older than them. Do you know for how long I puked after it ? Mate, it was not pretty. If I can do it, so can they." 

"I don't think—" 

"Hey, you guys !" Jane calls out as she trots towards them, "all's good ? Training going okay ?" 

"Marvelous," Benji sarcastically replies. "You ?" 

"Yeah, yeah. They're sweet, sort of. Told them I'd bring them muffins at the end of the week." 

"Wow, you actually give a shit about them. Thrilling." 

"What, you don't ?" she frowns, "I mean I don't know, I want to make it interesting for them, y'know ?" 

Benji scoffs, running a hand through his hair.

"They're big boys and big girls, they can handle themselves. I'm not going to bake them fucking cookies. Like who am I ? Fucking Mother Theresa ?" 

"Sometimes," Ethan begins, an amused smile curling his lips, "I forget that we're part of the very exclusive 'people I care about' Benji Dunn club. How many are we in there ? Five ?" 

"I mean, six if we count Hunley," his husband shrugs, pursing his lips. "You make me sound like an asshole ! I'm just saying that I'm here to make them field agents. Not to stuff them with your homemade blueberry muffins." 

"Wh—you love my blueberry muffins, asshole !" 

"I really do," he sighs. "Where's Will ?" 

"Introducing them to the art of filling a report correctly," Jane grins, "he was very adamant about that." 

"That's so hot I might just wet my pants," Benji grimaces, turning back to look over at the door leading to his room. "I'll head back. God knows what they're all fucking doing. Hopefully not having an orgy." 

"Benji—" 

"Dude, ew !" 

"What ? It's a possibility. I'll see you tonight for drinks," he adds, waving them goodbye before turning on his heels, leaving the two other agents to stare at his back a little dumbfounded.

"You know he's making them run at 9mph ?" Ethan asks his friend, grinning when he sees the shock on her face, "yeah, I had the same reaction." 

"I think he's too used to you." 

"And I think we forget he finished first of his promotion during the field agent training." 

"He's so weird and scary." 

"Mm," he simply hums, looking dreamily into the distance. "Anyway. Time to go back, too. Catch you later." 

"Yeah, yeah. See you." 

Should she also make chocolate chip muffins, she wonders ? 

—

At first, Alan Hunley had thought it was a great idea, that whole Hunt thing with the trainees. He'd seen how Ethan had been when he'd started as a mentor, and he deeply believed in his pedagogy. He knew Brandt would not disappoint as well, and he was fairly confident in Carter, too. 

Now. 

The remaining issue was the last agent. Dunn. Why was it always Dunn ? Was he not tired of wearing him out ? Had the blown up buildings in central London not been enough ? What kind of mental illnesses did he have ?

Scratch that.

What kind of mental illnesses did he not have ?

Was he just like that ? 

He stares at the ten reports in front of him. Ten trainees who'd walked out the course on day three, four, and five. Some of them crying. It almost makes him want to laugh, but then he remembers that he has a moral code and actual human feelings, so he doesn't. Instead, he just sighs. 

Today was day seven. The last day. Surely Benji Dunn wouldn't be doing anything out of the norm. Right ? 

That's the mantra he keeps repeating to himself as he walks down from his office to the special rooms, hoping to get a small glimpse at whatever the fuck Team Hunt was up to. Hopefully, Ethan was not telling them about the benefits of jumping off a plane, or kidnapping the King of England, or anything like that. 

At least he hopes so ?

He hears them before he can see them, and he makes his way inside the training room quietly, sitting in a corner to try and not disrupt whatever was happening. Brandt and Dunn were standing in the middle of the room, everyone else watching intently, silence reigning. 

"So," Brandt says, tone horribly high pitched, "do you want to have sex with me ?" he asks, and his voice breaks on that last syllable, and then Benji Dunn's folding on the side and audibly retches. 

"And this," Ethan immediately says, eyes closed and mouth in a thin line, "is not how you try and deal with a target during a honeypot mission." 

"But it can be how you deal with a hierarchic superior," Brandt supplies, index raised, and Jane Carter snorts so loud Hunley's sure that he can see some fucking spit flow out of her mouth. "Don't get too handsy with the marks, though, we're here to get information, not get jailed for sexual assault." 

"Yeah, tell that to Ethan," Jane mutters, rolling her eyes.

"Oh for Christ's sake, I kissed you once in Mumbai, and it wasn't even a full kiss ! A peck at most ! Can you please get over it ?!" 

"God, when I'm gonna tell Ilsa about it..." 

"Ethan's a good kisser, though," Benji offers, hands on his hips, "But I reckon Brandt's too eager on the tongue. Don't get me wrong, it's fun, but it's also really wet." 

"I am so delighted to hear about all of that," their Secretary cuts them off, taking them all by surprise as he gets up from his bench and walks towards them, "I see the training is going well. Only 17 people have given up so far ! Ten of which were in your team, agent Dunn ! Congratulations !" 

"Ella's getting tested for PTSD," a trainee tells him, and Jane whistles lowly at that. 

"Sir," Ethan replies, ever so professional, "it's good to see you. We were—huh, going over honeypot strategies." 

"I can see that."

"It's not going too well," Brandt adds.

"I can also see that." 

"I wish Luther was there," Benji then suddenly pipes up, making everyone turn to him. "He flirted with me once, he even used his low voice and all. Closest thing I'll ever get to get hit on by Idris Elba," he sadly says. "Shame, really." 

"You know," Hunley notes, feeling a vein burst on his forehead, "if I stay here for a minute more, I might be tempted fire all four of you." 

"Is that a promise ?" the British agent asks, face eager. "Can we do the pinky thing ?" 

"Go back to work," his superior groans, sending death glares to them all. "These kids better be fit for field agent training tonight." 

"Yes sir," Ethan nods, watching him stomp out of the room. He stares back at the group, feeling oddly defeated. "Okay, who wants to do some practice target shooting ?" 

Everybody cheers. 

—

By the end of the week Benji had made fourteen people cry, Brandt had traumatised five of them with his whole administrative kink, Jane had brought them her muffins and Ethan had gotten love letters from twenty trainees. Benji actually made fun of him for it once they'd gotten home, but his husband had gotten sort of defensive, saying he'd found it 'sweet.' 

If one thing was sure, it's that they were not meant to be teaching whatever the fuck their missions required them to do. They were a messy team, full of messy people, who did things out of order and, you guessed it, messily. They'd found it fun, though, as far as fun could go when they'd had ten trainees puke their brains out after one of Benji's exercises (he'd called it automatic cleansing, which Ethan, Jane and Brandt thought was fucking weird,) and they had to promise to Hunley to never interact with young trainees ever again, out of fear of breaking them psychologically before they'd even gotten the chance to get in the field. 

Ethan and Benji were spread on their couch that night, slightly tipsy from the drinks their team had shared in honour of the shitshow being over, and the former was fighting an endless battle with his brain to try and not blurt out what he really wanted to say. 

"It's hot when you get all authoritative," he finally breaks, sounding insanely lame, averting his gaze from his husband's. 

"What ?" 

"I mean, when you...give orders," he further explains, trying to play it cool. "It's attractive. Is what I mean." 

"Well," Benji snorts, "'course I give orders. I'm the voice in your ear. That's sort of my job." 

"Yeah, okay. No need to be so cocky." 

"Aw, E. You're so cute when you're flustered." 

Ethan brutally blushes, sending him a glare that would've made anyone who wasn't his husband probably piss their pants. 

"Not flustered." 

"Whatever you say, darling," the other giggles, going back to watch their movie. "I hope none of the kids we've trained are going to die brutally in a traumatising field event," he then says, very calmly. "That'd be a shame."

"You're so weird," Ethan mutters, going to kiss him. "I hope so too." 

"Mm." 

They stay cuddled by each other's side until they fall asleep. 

[bigsoftmarshmallow]

Changing Fate, Creating Destiny - LOZ TOTK Isekai

Part 1 2 3 (This is Part 3)

What was happening? Zelda couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted beneath her nose. Kotake and Koume, once elusive and distant, were now... casually hanging out with Adria? It was as if they had appointed themselves her personal guards. The strangest part was how relaxed Adria now seemed around them, treating them more like friends than protectors.

When Zelda had first inquired about their constant presence, Adria only shrugged, looking as confused as Zelda was. "I don't know," she had said, "they just... started hanging around."

Zelda, in her growing concern, had asked the Gerudo twins directly why they were spending so much time with Adria. Their response? Silence. They offered no explanation, their expressions as unreadable as ever. It was unsettling.

And yet... Adria, somehow, could get them talking. Zelda had watched, equal parts amazed and uneasy, as her friend asked the two stoic women about their weapons, their jewelry, even their clothing. Adria’s curiosity was boundless and unafraid, an openness Zelda herself would never show around the witches. But Adria didn’t seem to share the same wariness.

Koume, for example, had proudly shown Adria her golden spear, embedded with a ruby that gave it the power of fire. Kotake had demonstrated her twin scimitars, each adorned with sapphires that gave them an icy sharpness. Their faces, usually so cold and severe, softened—just slightly—as they humored Adria’s interest.

There was something gentle about the way they interacted with her, even though their sharp natures were still very much intact. It was odd to see these two powerful women acting like this, their amusement apparent whenever Adria spoke with them.

Zelda couldn’t help but worry. Why were they so attached to Adria? What did they want from her? More importantly, why did Adria seem so content around them? She couldn’t deny that her friend was still very much herself—walking alongside Zelda and treating her like a sister, sharing laughter and stories just as before—but now, Adria had these two warriors practically hovering in the background, always there, always watching.

And then there was the matter of training. Zelda had overheard Kotake and Koume gently—for them—trying to convince Adria to take up some form of combat training. They hadn’t pushed, but their persistence was clear. What were they hoping to achieve?

The lack of answers gnawed at Zelda, but she had nothing concrete to go on. No evidence. No accusations. Just a vague sense that something was off. And yet, how could she say anything when Adria seemed perfectly fine with it? No, more than fine—comfortable.

It was unsettling, but for now, Zelda resolved to watch carefully. She wouldn’t make the mistake of letting her guard down, not when Kotake and Koume were involved. But she also wouldn’t push too hard. If Adria was happy and unharmed, Zelda would allow this strange arrangement to continue.

Still... she'd remain vigilant. Watching and waiting. There was more to this than met the eye, she was sure of it. But for now, she would treat the situation with care. Kindness wouldn’t hurt—but neither would caution.

[anonymous-dentist]

One thing I’ve noticed about Arkanis so far that’s just a little worrying to me is that the Lore is Constantly Happening. It’s the same problem I had with the QSMP, too: too much happening all the time will eventually overwhelm the creators and the audience. Especially if everybody has enigmas to figure out, then they have enigmas on top of enigmas on top of enigmas with no time to solve them

But this depends on how long Arkanis is projected to be. The QSMP was supposed to be a years-long project with legitimately no projected ending; it just happened to crash and burn just before it’s one year anniversary and not stop burning until the anniversary was over and the server could say it lasted 1+ years. And then it died.

But Arkanis? I’m thinking that it’ll be done sometime in January or February. It feels very Karmaland-y, and that’s a good thing! Karmaland 5 only lasted six or so months, which was a Good Thing!

I vaguely remember hearing that this current Arkanis is like a “season one” type of deal, and I hope that means that it’s shorter than not. This isn’t because I hope it ends quickly, it’s because I believe that there needs to be an ending Eventually so the server doesn’t fade into obscurity.

It does actually help that a lot of the creators seem to be focusing on their characters’ individual lores. Sure, everybody is involved in the overarching plot, but there is a Specific Character dedicated to that overarching plot. That’s Bagi, and she’s related directly to the enigma channel on the Arkanis discord.

And, unlike the QSMP, the individual lores all actually at least vaguely seem to tie into the Big Plot in some way. All of the Lore Details aren’t reserved for one or two people to discover, each character has an impact on the story and the story has an impact on them.

Tbh, this just shows the benefits of Arkanis being a dedicated rp server. Sure, yeah, you can be as invested in rp as you want as a player; Mike hasn’t been doing much besides building, I think, and that’s just fine. But the fact that Arkanis was advertised with a LOT of rp stuff and the fact that it has dedicated itself to the rp even so far as including the discord in it? Social media accounts are canon? That stuff? Really impressive.

The best way to combat burnout with this kind of stuff is to provide brain breaks. Have weekends off of lore or something. But another good way is to keep Lore from feeling like a chore. It’s fun to be an audience member actually impacting the Lore through the discord channel! It’s especially fun when you’re enigma-brained like several of the ccs are, and like a good portion of the audience is. If there’s a lot of information, it’ll be hard to get through. But it’ll be easier if you’re actually enjoying it.

And the way to enjoy it? The information needs to make sense, and that’s what Arkanis is absolutely doing right at the moment. It’s all confusing, but it’s also relatively easy to go “Oh! These characters were in the advertisements from August!” when there’s clear, yet still not too obvious, evidence showing it.

That’s what the QSMP consistently got wrong: the information just didn’t make sense. This came from a lack of planning and the workplace abuse the writers and actors faced. A lot of things came down just to what Quackity and/or the other higher ups thought would be cool or clickbait-y.

Arkanis is doing things right so far. Everything seems planned, the story actually seems to know where it’s going, and a lot of things somehow seem to relate back to the story in a way that makes sense.

But also? It’s only been a week. Who knows if the server will be able to keep this momentum up in a healthy way? I hope it does, and I have faith that it will. The guys behind the scenes almost seem to be taking the QSMP’s failures and learning from them while still creating and keeping a unique server identity.

I just hope it lasts!

[softguarnere]

Hey. I'm really sorry if I came across pushy or impatient bc that was not my intention at all. Of course school is more important. I hope you like my ideas but if not that's totally fine.

Ok, so here's the first one. You have been a member of Easy co. through almost the whole war. Down in the mud with them and forced to wear the same uniform. Other than being the only girl in the company you just blended in with the guys. That is, until the end of the war came.

My request is a headcanon of the guys reaction to seeing you actually look like a girl for the first time. I mean the works; pin up hair, make up, killer dress, and heels. Also, if it's not too much trouble could you please make sure to include Doc Roe, Babe, Malarkey, and Liebgott? If you want to include any of the other boys please do. Thanks!

Hey hey! Me again sending in my second idea. Again you're the only girl in Easy co. and at some point during the war you took quite a bit of shrapnel; especially to your chest and abdomen.

This is another reaction headcanon request (of a more romantic nature) of the guys seeing all your scars for the first time during a more private moment. Again can you please include Doc Roe, Babe, Malarkey, and Liebgott? Thanks! ❤️

Since you sent two requests, I decided to combine them for the sake of ease and time.

Even though I'm a writer, I'm a historian by trade, and I've never been comfortable with the whole "unexplained sole female member of the company" because I could never stretch my imagination to come up with a proper explanation for why that would be, so I hope you don't mind that I had to change it slightly. I also don't write NSFW, so the second part had to be left pretty vague.

Because of the time crunch, these haven't been proof read or edited!

Reactions to seeing you dressed up for the first time, and later, your battle scars

Doc Roe

When a women's division was added to Easy Company, a lot of the men found themselves getting somewhat distracted

If he's being honest, then yes, Gene has spared a glance at some of the women. But he's been so busy with the constant work of being a combat medic that he hasn't noticed anyone in particular

Until the end of the war, that is

Everyone goes wild once Berchtesgaden is taken. People are looting the jewelry and clothes for themselves, for friends and family, for sweethearts back home

And you happen to take a dress and some jewelry that make you absolutely sparkle - when Gene sees you for the first time, it takes his breath away

Once he works up the courage to talk to you, the two of you take it slow

With everything that has happened and the fast pace of the war, he completely forgot that you took some shrapnel back in Bastogne

You seem so ashamed when you first show him the scars it left you with, but he thinks nothing of it

"We all got 'em," he assures you

"You don't."

"Yeah, I do." He places your hand over his heart. "You just can't see 'em."

Babe

Okay, I think he would actually take notice of you for the first time after the war

It's at an Easy reunion. He happens to look up from his drink as you walk in

He chokes, which draws Bill's attention

"Who the hell is that?"

Bill squints over at you. "Oh, I think it's (Y/L/N)."

"Who?"

"(Y/N)? From the women's division, remember?"

Babe tilts his head. "No."

"Well, she looks different outta uniform, I guess."

All this to say, Babe has taken an interest in you, and he has no qualms about telling you exactly that when he (re)introduces himself to you

You have a great time at the reunion, and although you and Babe keep in touch and become close, he's a little shocked to realize how many things he didn't know about you

Like about the scars that the war left you with

You're shy, almost timid, when you show him, even though you trust him by now

"I had no idea," he admits.

"I don't usually bring it up," you hesitate before continuing. "It, uh - some guys haven't liked it. It makes them uncomfortable."

Something about the way you say it is so open and honest that Babe can't help the rush of emotion that comes over him. He grabs your hand and squeezes it tight

"Then doll, they weren't good enough for you."

Malarkey

Unlike the others, he knows you got hit, because he was there

But it's not something that he thinks about. He's busy trying to forget the war, after all

And as the war draws to a close, he gets so used to seeing you in your Ike jacket and thinking about how it makes you look like some sort of goddess of war that it's distracting

It's not until your last night in Berchtesgaden, when your relationship becomes official, that he learns about the scars the shrapnel left you with

"Does it hurt?" he asks, immediately remembering that awful day back in Holland when he saw you go down as the shrapnel struck you.

"No." You only smirk. "You should see the other guy."

He knew there was a reason that he liked you so much.

Liebgott

Listen, he's such a flirt that I'm convinced he noticed you before and has been subtly throwing flirtations your way throughout the war

But once he sees you at the war's end in a dress and some bright red lipstick that you stole? WOW - you're a knock-out. The pin-ups back in the States have nothing on you, and he simply can't wait another second to make a move

"Hiya, your Highness." He kisses the back of your hand and gives you a deep bow. "My name is Joe. Have we met before?"

All the other women would be giggling while watching the interaction. You can only roll your eyes, trying to hide the heat rushing to your cheeks.

"Maybe once . . . in your dreams."

Joe has always thought you were pretty, and he'll think your gorgeous no matter what

Seeing your scars has a different effect on him.

The anger that would course through him at the realization that the war left its mark on you in the most literal sense? Unmatched.

"Joey," you have to tell him, hooking his chin with a finger and guiding his gaze back up to your eyes. "If it makes you uncomfortable I can - "

"No." He grabs your hands. "Sorry, doll. I didn't mean to make you self-conscious. I just - "

"I know," you assure him. "No use being angry now, though. The damage is done."

But he doesn't want you to see it as damage. And slowly, he comes to see it as character instead; one more piece of you that makes you who you are - and reminds him of why he fights.

[becausesomething]

I'm sorry sensei (ZoroxReader)

Sinopse:

Pre-time skip. Y/N is part of the crew of the Going Merry.

What was supposed to be a simple training session by herself ends up creating what she always feared, having Zoro upset and arguing with her. However, the relationship between sensei and pupil ends up speaking louder.

WC: 2.8K

I was still energetic, so I decided to go train alone at the gym that Zoro had improvised in one of the free rooms. As I go down from the crow's nest, I enjoy that breeze of another day that seemed like summer, the sun was still high but was slowly heading towards the horizon.

Although my form of combat was using a spear, Zoro insisted that I try swords or katanas. I ended up giving in, I couldn't resist that serious face that believed more in me and my abilities than I did in myself, much less getting into unnecessary discussions that ended up only creating a bad atmosphere for the rest of the crew too. And as much as I didn't want to admit it, the base was similar to the training I already had, it was just a matter of being a shorter weapon with more cutting surface.

He insisted on always training with me, and he didn't like it when I wanted to do it alone. I still looked for him, but he must have been sleeping in a more hidden corner. I could have looked better, but I was fidgety and impatient. Unlike his bedroom, the space where he trained was always tidy and organized. But that didn't stop me from being clumsy and going against things, especially the weights that were impossible to lift for a normal human being, like me, that were left under the window, which was also the best place to be.

I go to the wall and take out the sword I always trained with, with the red handle and red blade. I put on some background music and started practicing the movements that Zoro had taught me last time. In certain movements, I remembered the touch of his rough hand against mine, the weight of his body on mine correcting me, and the superior smile that he made no effort to hide, knowing the effect he had on me. I have to re-concentrate myself several times, until I can stay in that zone where the body starts to act based on learning and instinct. An instinct that still fled to the spear habit, and out of carelessness I hit the bar of one of the dumbbells with the sword, which makes it jump out of my hand and without thinking I try to grab it, ending up cutting myself and causing it to hit the weight and fall to the ground.

-Shit! - I look at my left hand and I had cut myself a little deep, I started to feel the burning and the blood flowing - No, double shit - I look at the sword and it was clear that I had hit something - I'm going to be a person with no future when he finds out!

I take a deep breath and grab the towel to stop the blood. Fortunately, the music drowned out the clang and echo of the sword as it struck. I look around and it was just the sword and me who had suffered the consequences. I put it back on and he might not notice, at least that was the vague hope I had.

I go to Chopper, who luckily was passing by on the deck, and I push him into the space that had been turned into a consulting room.

-I need you to help me and your medical confidentiality! - he looks at me, getting ready to ask how I had hurt myself this time, my fame was already known - And no lectures please, I'm going to be a dead person anyway.

The towel was already soaked in blood, and when I showed him the injured palm, he went into his serious mode and looked for whatever he needed, while I sat down in the chair he indicated to me.

-You were lucky Y/N, it's not deep but you'll need stitches - he starts to treat the wound - How did you did this?

-I was training and the sword slipped out of my hand - I decided to leave the detail of being distracted and the sword left with marks aside

-What was Zoro doing for you to end up hurt?

-I don't know, I was alone - I feel his gaze on me and I shrink - please don't say anything to him!

He looks at me again, but nods. But I knew he wasn't the best person at keeping secrets, so I would have to be careful and that involved avoiding Zoro for as long as I could.

And the maximum time was only one day, which would end miserably.

I asked Sanji if I could have dinner in my room as an excuse for having a headache and needing to rest, and I ended up getting lost in time starting a new book until it was nighttime and I probably should already be sleeping. Which made me wake up late in the next morning, but also avoided having to meet him first thing in the morning.

Or at least that's what I thought, because he appeared in the kitchen at the exact moment I had relaxed and was distracted from talking to Sanji, thinking he was already training.

-Are you better Y/N?

Instead of answering him, I take a bigger bite of the sandwich Sanji had left for me. He lets out a sigh, and goes to get a mug of coffee and sits down across from me.

-How did you hurt yourself now? - He looks at me and points to the bandage he has on, which makes me swallow hard.

-I just accidentally cut myself with my spear, it's nothing serious - I felt a cold sweat running down my back and I begged him to believe me.

He drinks some more - do you think you're capable of training today? -and he looks at me as if he were reading me, except it was Zoro with his simple thinking.

-I think I'll pass today if you don't mind, Chopper said to take it slow over the next few days.

Sanji, who was washing the dishes, comes towards me - I'm going to prepare you even more nutritious food so you can recover quickly, beautiful flower - says Sanji, filling my glass with more juice.

-Thank you Sanji, and for bringing me dinner yesterday, I was so lost reading that I forgot to thank you - I smile at him and he happily goes back to what he was doing.

I see Zoro rolling his eyes and getting up - whatever you want, if you change your mind, you know where to find me - I nod and when he leaves the kitchen I take a deep breath.

I go back to the room after Chopper changed my bandage and I just wanted to finish one more chapter of the book before going to dinner. I was picking up the book from the desk, when the door suddenly opened and closed. Even though I was still turning around, I could hear his breathing and heavy footsteps.

-How did you really get hurt Y/N? - I turned around and Zoro had the sword with which he had hurt me in his hand and a look of fury - Tell me the truth!

-Zoro, I... I don't know exactly how it happened... I got careless... I know I shouldn't train alone... I'm sorry

He approaches me and sends the sword to the bed.

-The truth Y/N! Why did you lie to me and say that hurt yourself with the spear?

-I was afraid of your reaction and I didn't want you to be upset with me...

-And you thought I wouldn't find out? The sword is stained with your blood! What the hell was going through your head?!

He clenches his fists, continuing to look at me. I had never seen him so furious, or use his voice in such a powerful way. It was precisely what I had tried to avoid. He was in front of me, upset and with that energy of fury for me being irresponsible.

-Why didn't you tell me the truth?

-I don't know, at that time it seemed like the best decision - I shrunk even more into myself - I just didn't want you to be like you are now with me.

-It's a bit late for that, don't you think?!

-I'm sorry Zoro, I know I shouldn't have lied - I start to feel guilty and the way he spoke to me makes me start to cry.

He approaches me and grabs my injured hand by the arm - Why didn't you come and meet me to train with you? I had already warned you that you were not prepared and it could be dangerous! You always end up hurting yourself or causing it to almost happen to others, if they aren't paying attention.

I let go of him and take a step back. I just didn't want him to be upset, I didn't want to argue, I didn't want any of that. Except, that he just said what he really thought, that I was a danger to myself and that he didn't trust me.

-I'm sorry, ok?! - I try to stop crying, but he had hurt me with what he said - I know I didn't act correctly, but... but I wanted to avoid arguing with you. I don't like it when that happens.

-If you had told me the truth, we wouldn't be here arguing now.

-But how much longer would you continue to treat me as a danger to myself? - the tears start to fall, as my voice rises in anger - Would you ever really let me train alone, since a blade is too dangerous for a clumsy person like me?

-Y/N, it's nothing like that. Don't distort my words, fuck!

-That's what you said! Is that why you said you wanted to train me? To watch every step of a clumsy person?

He moves forward and tries to grab me, but I move away again.

-You are exaggerating. You have potential, you're agile with a spear, you're just a little clumsy... but it never crossed my mind that you were irresponsible and went against what your sensei told you.

-Don't give me that now Zoro!

-No?! So how did you end up cutting yourself? Why did you hide that from me? Wasn't it so you wouldn't have to be lectured for knowing you did something you shouldn't have?

-This could have happened with you there or not. I'm clumsy, it's true. But there's no need to use that as an excuse to say that I'm a danger... - I hold back crying and look at him - Get out of my room, I want to be alone...

-What are you saying? I didn't say anything like that! - once again, he tries to advance towards me, but I dodge.

-Stay then, I'll leave! - I move forward quickly and push him by the shoulder to get past and run to the deck.

-Y/N! You're acting like a child! - I still hear him screaming, but I needed to get out of there.

I run across the deck, catching the attention of Nami and Usopp who were passing by, and I grab the ropes to climb up to the crow's nest. Zoro follows me but is stopped by Nami who grabs him by the t-shirt.

-What did you do this time Zoro? Why is Y/N crying?

-I'm the one who has reason to be upset, not her.

-We already know that perceiving emotions is not your strong point. What discussion was it this time? - Usopp intervenes now

-Leave me alone, I already said I didn't do anything! Fucking nosyheads! - he gives up the idea of ​​following me and goes back in, which makes me know how to breathe again.

I jump into the crow's nest and am startled to see that Luffy is resting there.

-You shouldn't have lied, he was just worried about you.

-I know, the discussion just ended up taking a different direction.. which is why I left out some details.

-Was it you who asked him to train you or was it him who said he would train you?

I look at him without understanding what he meant, and thinking that everyone had probably heard our discussion.

-Only after many attempts and almost dragging you, you let him show you and then accept that he became your sensei. You're his responsibility, and you got hurt due to disobedience - he gets up - no one thinks you're a danger or that you're getting in our way, you have a funny way of creating situations, you're skilled and agile like a fox, that's why I made you a straw hat - he smiles and before jumping he puts the hat on his head - apologize and accept your mistakes Y/N

He jumps up screaming for Sanji and food.

Two days spent avoiding Zoro. And when one of us happened to be in a space, the other would leave. I was reading against one of the orange trees when Nami appeared and stole the book from my hands.

-Hey! Give it back!

-How long are you going to avoid him? Enough of this environment. What happened between you two, this time is going too far.

-I don't know, I just can't face him... - I pull my knees back and grab them, shrinking myself and letting out a sigh.

Things got out of control, I was perfectly aware that I hadn't done the right thing. I hated feeling bad about him, especially because I missed him.

-But that doesn't mean that you stop following him with your gaze or vice versa - she kneels in front of me and lifts my chin with the book - You're going to apologize or I won't give you any more money to buy books ...

-That's not fair!

-You're also not being fair with him either. And you know that I rarely side with that idiot - she hands me the book and starts to walk away - every hour that' pass is less 50 berries

-Witch - I mumble to myself

-I heard that, it will go up to 100 berries!

I go in and close the door, leaving the bottle of sake on the chair where the swords are also standing.

-What do you want, Y/N? - he continues lying down with his eyes closed.

-Trying to redeem myself - I lean against the door and look around that space, I only realize that it was the first time that I was really inside - I acted like a child. I shouldn't have gone to train alone, much less hide the truth from you. I could give reasons, but I don't know why I did it, I just acted without thinking. It was irresponsible of me.

He finally decides to move, and it's as if he wakes up and sits up in bed. He looked at me, and I could feel that he was still upset, and was waiting for me to continue and say what I was there to do.

I take a few steps forward and bow slightly - I'm sorry sensei... I want to continue training with you and I promise not to go behind your back again - I felt nervous, I didn't want to argue anymore, I was fed up with that situation, I just wanted to get rid of that moment and we can be comfortable with each other again.

I was so focused on my thoughts, that I was scared when I saw that he was now in front of me, making me look at him - Don't do it again, you're my responsibility - his eyes shine, and in a movement that still I least expected it, he hugs me.

My heart races, it was so comforting to feel him enveloping me, I felt protected. Which was what he had always done since I joined the crew, directly or indirectly. I hug him back and rest my head on his shoulder.

-Am I excused? I... miss you Zoro. I hate it when we end up arguing.

-It's not the same to train without you, it's too lonely and quiet. The truth is that I like your company and that you're around - I try to let go of the hug, but he stops me - I'm sorry if I hurt you with my words, I care about you... you're someone I want to keep close and protect with all my strength.

What he had just said only made me hug him even more, I didn't want that hug to end -Thank you Zoro-sensei!

He ends the hug and slides his hand down my arm, holding my hand - you're important to me and I appreciate you.

I stare at him, not knowing what to say because what he had just said was a declaration of how he felt about me?!

english is not my first language, even thought I use it more than my native tongue. I try my best to adapt it 🫣

[eurydices-carnation774]

INFODUMP TIME!!!

So a few weeks or so ago me and my friend @likesaly were discussing Hadestown and we accidentally created a modern/influencer AU and it’s been rotating in my head ever since

Ignore if some things are a little out of character. I do not care because this is me being self indulgently cringey

Minor spoilers and a few (vague) NSFW references under the cut

-Eurydice

Eurydice is a tumblr girlie, and we all know it I fear. She posts a lot of outfit stuff that accidentally gets reposted to Pinterest. She also, often shit talks Hades on tumblr and screenshots his twitter posts and reuploads them onto here and just calls him a bitch. These ALSO get reposted onto Pinterest.

I don’t think she particularly falls under any specific alt genre, but falls into TikTok’s “Dommy mommy” cliche because of the black dress and combat boots.

She frequently posts about stupid shit Orpheus is doing and then later updates on how he somehow made the entire house smell like mangos (he made ramen with monster instead of water)

Definitely semi popular blog on tumblr

-Orpheus

He posts about playing guitar on TikTok! However, this has accidentally caused the issue of his TikTok comments being filled with:

“Weird way to propose”

“Omg his hands”

And on and on. You know the comments

Anyways, he later posted a video with Eurydice and mentioned that they were dating in the caption and instead got the:

“I hate couples being happy”

“I hope y’all find out you’re cousins”

Comments. Orpheus cannot win

He makes random food combos on occasion, Eurydice hates him for this one. She will always willingly try it but also hates that he keeps making the house smell like disgustingly sweet fruit or just burnt.

-Hades

Posts about his shit politics takes (likely higher up in politics standpoints. Idk I don’t pay attention) and his wife, that’s it

Him and Eurydice are always in a weird cross platform fight between twitter and tumblr

Eurydice posted a photo of Orpheus once and he screenshotted it and reposted it with the caption

“Why is your boyfriend a wet rag of a man”

-Persephone

Runs an Instagram page about plants, except when you check her story it’s always about something that happened while she was drunk

Calls hades out on why he needs to stop the capitalism twitter page

He won’t listen

Her and Eurydice post photos together sometimes!

Hermes:

That one guy who goes stupidly popular once every 3 months for posting a stupidly funny video

Doesn’t spend much time on social media, but when he does he’s viral for 3 weeks

[chirpsythismorning]

Noah saying, "I don't think Mike likes Will back" doesn’t equate to him not knowing about byler being endgame, and here's why.

Noah and a majority of the main cast have been given a rough idea of how the show will end, broadly in terms of the entire story, but also more specifically in terms of their personal character arcs.

Actors are out here acting. This is nothing new.

Any of the the main cast insisting they have no idea how the show ends at all, are lying. This is because their safest bet is playing dumb.

There's nothing safe about them revealing they know how the show ends, least of all to an audience that is dying for any spoiler they can get their hands on. It just puts them in a position to have to think very carefully about everything they say, which is something they already have to do regardless.

It's a lot easier to just say you don't know, because then you can give vague answers or even just flat out lie and get away with it, as opposed to saying you know and then having everyone take whatever you say as gospel since you admitted to knowing what's coming.

David is pretty much the only actor who goes around explicitly saying that he knows how the show ends, which is something he's been doing consistently since s2 premiered back in November of 2017.

Something David has also mentioned on a few occasions since then, is how much input the Duffer's let him put into his character. He's literally praised them for having a collaborative process, because it allows him to play Hopper more authentically.

And so yes, I do think it's safe to assume that the Duffer's extend this approach to their other cast-members as well, at least among the main cast-members. I do not at all think this is some exclusive treatment only David gets, because this seems like more just something the Duffer's do out of respect to the actors. How else can they expect them to portray their character accurately if they don't know what they're going through or what their motives are or what's right for them going forward?

We obviously won't know all the details about who knew what at what times or how long they've known certain things, until they themselves come out and reveal after the fact, if they even do it at all.

Still, I do think that when it comes to byler actually happening, it's going to be very satisfying for fans who saw it coming.

This is because we're dealing with something the Duffer's are predicting a good portion of the ga will be bitter about, with the main argument at the forefront being that Mike and Will came out of nowhere.

And so, how do you think they're going to combat that?

With the literal proof.

They have David, who has been used happily as their main scapegoat through the years, whose words are literal proof that things were planned for quite some time. We have him saying all the way back in 2017 that there are easter eggs in the first season which we won't understand until the end, how it's beautiful and surprising and it will explain why certain characters acted certain ways...

Not only that, but there's just no way people are going to be able to use the whole 'it came out of nowhere' argument (at least without looking like idiots), because we'll have the Duffer's themselves out here confirming shit like blue meets yellow in the west and other theories that were entirely intentional (as we predicted).

And because of this, I think I can guess roughly how things will go moving forward and it's honestly already panning out in some ways I expected.

Because while season 4 ends in a way that seems to be leading towards Mike and El ending up together from the perspective of the ga, there are numerous details in the subtext and just outright in the literal text that's trying to tell us this is not actually the case.

And so now the Duffers and everyone who knows are in this limbo of tricking their audience in plain sight, hoping to keep this act going for as long as they can, and that's obviously not easy to do.

What I think makes it most difficult is that they want to surprise fans, but they also want them to be satisfied and happy with the ending.

And that is why the whole Milkvan straight bait is indeed very near its end.

If they want ST to live on as a cult classic with rewatch value, they can't keep this straight bait going on into the last season.

They'll want Mike and El to definitively give off platonic elmike for s5, with byler being endgame and Willel being wonder twins.

This is why Mike and El's dynamic HAS to blatant in a way that will come across as platonic to the ga in s5. And the shift needs to be immediate, otherwise byler will not be satisfying.

I feel like a lot of bylers already predict this, which is why a lot of us assume that the milkvan breakup with happen (or be acknowledged as having already happened) as early as 5x01 or 5x02.

Honestly, I do think that Will's painting being plastered on merch recently was one of the big moments which is representative of a shift we're already seeing start to happen. We're going to continue to see milkvan be promoted as elmike, while byler is being promoted in a way that is, well byler.

What I think is most noteworthy in terms of how they're approaching this conflict going forward, is how the actors themselves have talked about it when asked.

For example, there was one Con specifically that I remember Noah attended right around when Vol 2 dropped, where he mentioned byler at least 3 times. Two times when asked and one other time unprompted.

And no one ever talks about this, but full serious you guys, it was dead silent at that con whenever he mentioned byler. There were maybe a few hoots and claps, with Noah literally looking kind of worried. It was obvious he noticed the silence the first time it got brought up, and so he felt the need to mention it a second time when asked about what he shipped and then AGAIN, with a note of defensiveness in his voice:

"Byler is just, at it's peak right now, okay, so definitely ship that--"

And while in the background, all you hear is maybe 2 bylers supporting him, otherwise, it's mostly crickets...

Let's try to remember that while Byler is a lot bigger now undoubtedly, unless you're active online, most of the ga does not see it coming. And so byler is by no means fan-service. If anything it's show-runner service.

This means Noah had literally no obligation that day to go all out with referring to byler in a positive hopeful light, nor does he still. And yet he did and he hasn't slowed down much since.

His approach makes sense. Because his character has been revealed in canon to be in love with the other, he can freely say he ships it and even take the opportunity to hype it up in an attempt to open peoples minds to it, who might not have considered it before. And he can also do this because in canon, Will assumes Mike doesn't love him back, so Noah can just co-opt Will & the ga's assumption that Mike doesn't feel the same, and get away with it, without anyone whose close-minded giving it a second glance as evidence.

If they wanted to avoid queer-bait and get people to not look at byler that way, they had the chance to. A majority of the ga didn't read byler romantically and so they could've just kept things casual by not bringing it up, nor humoring it at all.

The byler tag didn't even hit 30k followers until AFTER vol. 2 dropped! Most people were oblivious (including bylers).

Undoubtedly, Noah in particular around that time, was a big part of why people started to look deeper on their own and it's how a lot of people ended up here, now with 277k of us.

Like seriously, listen to me ya'll, Noah would NOT put himself in a position to broadcast his support for byler like this and the Duffers would probably be begging him not to, knowing he would be subject to a lot of criticism in doing so, if byler was not in fact where the story was going. Point blank, period.

His tweet "vol 2 got me shipping byler over everything' has to have been the most obvious stunt of all. He was not saying that to be quirky or to appease a few thousand people, he was saying it to wake up the hundreds of thousands that might be open to it, and who just need a push to see what's right in front of them.

Then we have Millie's approach. Her approach for a long time has been to say stuff that she thinks the audience wants to hear, that being anything pro-milkvan. And up until Vol 1, she was still mostly on board with referring to it in a super positive light.

She also insisted during s4's run that she has no clue how the show will end (lies, Millie is a good actress pls give her more credit), and this also explains why she's tended to feel somewhat comfortable lying about milkvan positively...

Though as Vol. 2 neared and ever since, a shift has started to happen, where in interviews Millie is getting a lot more into depth and real about El's personal arc. She mentioned right before Vol 2 dropped that El was insecure in her fight with Mike at the start of the season because she thought he only considered her a superhero and didn't see her as more than that.... Then more recently she has doubled down saying that she is her own superhero, having been shaped a little too much by the men in her life.

SHE IS OUT HERE SAYING WHAT WE'VE BEEN SAYING FOR MONTHS (SOME YEARS)! SHE KNOWS HER CHARACTER BETTER THAN ANYONE!

Honestly, even though I understand they are trying to trick people into thinking they're clueless and so I guess I'm happy for them that they've succeeded in that, I can't help but admit I feel a little disappointed upon hearing some bylers say that they are convinced Millie doesn't know, but that Finn does and even Noah does, but that she's entirely in the dark about it and that they're okay with this I guess?

First of all, why would anyone be okay with that? Why would we be okay with Millie not having insight into where her character is going. What, do you guys think they're just going to pull up on her at the last minute like, "yeah sorry we didn't tell you sooner, but this is where your character is going to end up. anyways back to byler!...."

I don't care, it would seriously be fucked up to keep her in the dark about this because El IS important to the story and Millie, just like everyone else, deserves that closure so that she can understand her character better and therefore perform to the best of her ability. She also deserves a say somewhat in where she feels her character should go, just like David has said the Duffer's afford them.

Now lastly, when it comes to Finn, I think most assume at least he is aware of byler, and I do agree he knows, so let's start there.

Again, we don't know when they found out and so for now I don't feel like going too far into guessing the exact point and so I won't. However, I do think that Finn also as of late has had an approach that manages to somehow be very different from both Noah and Millie's, and for reasons that also make a lot of sense.

Because Finn's character is assumed to not return Will's feelings, he has to be more careful than all of them. This is arguably why he goes to the least cons out of everyone (most recently everyone attended a con in person, with Millie present over zoom even, but no Finn or Noah... seems very intentional at this point).

Why I think they need to be more strict with Finn in particular is because he's in the exact opposite situation as Noah.

His character is assumed to not return Wll's feelings, and so he can't go very far with what he reveals. What we've got up to this point is actually quite revealing enough as it is, which is why that's all we're getting for now.

What I find interesting is that Finn's approach is quite similar to David's. I know Noah is known for spoiling things, but arguably Finn is just as bad, he's just a lot more sneaky about it. He has a harder time lying, which is why I think he actually looks uncomfortable when asked milkvan questions. Not necessarily because he doesn't ship it like lots of bylers assume, but because he's having to dance around and lie outright and he probably feels bad.

His most common approach though is that he likes to make jokes and say things that could be looked at from multiple perspectives, where it could be looked at now as milkvan evidence, while simultaneously being looked at from the future as byler evidence. Him saying 'I think everyone knows how Mike feels about Eleven' was him quite literally gaslighting the audience just like Mike did with El in s4:

'I care for you so much" "I say it" "You know how I feel about you--"

But do we? Do we really? Or does the audience THINK they know, and so Finn can get away with saying something cryptic and vague like that? When really, in the future, everyone will be laughing looking back because to Finn and all the cast, it was actually abundantly obvious Mike's feelings for El were platonic and his feelings for Will were romantic.

Same for his response when asked if El and Mike would be together and happy in season 5. He dances around it, doesn't deny it, but also doesn't confirm it. Instead of just being like yes they will (which is what we're being led to assume is inevitable at the end of s4, and so he has no reason to dance around it), he starts by deflecting, talking broadly in terms of the stories overall ending, only to say he hopes they find happiness... Again his answer fits with the ga's assumptions now, but it also fits with the surprise of byler in the end as well.

Also important to note that Finn and Noah are the ones to repost about the show most out of everyone from the main cast. A LOT. In fact, they were the only main cast-members (besides Brett LOL) out of everyone to repost about the episode title name for 5x01 being released on ST day...

And it's because THIS is their character's big revelation going into the final season and they had a say in it going this direction. Even if it's what the Duffer's wanted all along, they still gave them and everyone to an extent, a say in things. And now that it's all slowly happening, they are front and center standing by that decision, because they insisted they could do it and wanted to.

I can't say for certain that things will just be smooth sailing from here on out though, by no means is everything just going to shift completely.

There is still undoubtedly this element of the Duffer's and everyone wanting to have the pleasure of tricking the audience. In an industry where everything that happens is usually expected and predictable and therefore rarely exciting, and with an audience that is always figuring stuff out before their supposed to through leaks and stuff, byler is something they have finally been able to successfully trick most of the audience to think will never happen. And that is fucking impressive when considering the heaps of evidence.

And yet still, they don't want to be yet another show that is considered to have a bad ending.

So, going forward, I think things will continue the way that they are, but we'll slowly see them be more comfortable in this element of acknowledging endgame in a way that will be easy to look back on positively when everything is all said and done.

Because if byler is endgame, IF they want people to look back and go oh Oh OH during all those moments where they misread things, but now they can see the other side of it, there needs to be more of an approach that gives Byler equal playing field and allows the ga to actually start to appreciate it and even want it and root for it. Which means buh bye predictability and heteronormativity and hello surprises and gayness (but also be open ended about it so the homophobes will stay tuned until the last second).

[karamatsusdiscodong]

Hhii! I didn't see any rules or anything so I was just curious if you'd be comfy writing something like a headcanon or something about maybe a cute first date with Oso?

I hope this isn't rude or anything 😭 also if you could link some rules that'd be great please

Oh anon, you are not being rude at all! I do need to make a rule post... I haven't had access to my laptop because I lost my charger, which I must hunt to find.

I will happily write for our oldest NEET!

I'm sorry this is so short!

OSOMATSU FIRST DATE HEADCANONS

under the cut!

A date? with him? When he heard the words come out of your mouth from your sarcastic joke, fire burned up Osomatsu's face, red spreading like wildfire from his cheeks to the tip of his nose, and up to his ears. The eldest Matsuno had been harboring a crush on you since high school, and to even think about going on a date with you was something he had been having fantasies about since he found out he had this crush while talking to you in physics.

Osomatsu most definitely combats his nervousness with either sex- or humor. there's no in-between in which he spewed "A date with me? I don't think you would be ready for that. Id blow your mind so hard you're going to be on your knees for me after."

To which he realized what he said sounded so. stupid. The next few moments were a blur to him that he could vaguely remember because he was wanting to jump out of his own skin and beat himself into the ground- that he didn't see you reach into your pocket and grab your phone and begin typing something. Osomatsu also didn't realize that he had received a message from the ding and vibration from his own phone in his pocket. "See you on Saturday!" you had called while running to catch up with your friends who had already begun walking away from you and their eldest brother.

Now, standing outside of your house following the address you had sent to him, Osomatsu stood a bit awkwardly, though always trying to maintain a laid-back slacker attitude- his normal ego had suddenly disappeared the moment he went to ring your doorbell.

Your date consisted of going to Hybrid Oden, then the park. The entire time Osomatsu and you had been having a amazing time until you two were about to head home from the park when he grabbed your hand.

Right there in a jumbled quick string of words, Osomatsu told you how he felt, and felt his hands sweat as he felt a pain in his chest as the bubble of anxiety in his chest popped. The reaction he thought he was going to get from you, a disgusted rejection- turned into a sweet hug from you and confession on your part.

Instead of going home that night, Osomatsu took you home to his brothers and caused an uproar.

[dailyadventureprompts]

Drafting an Adventure: A death at dawngrace

The rampage of some winged beast has brought you into the service of Syr Volias, an experienced knight errant who has sought you out in hopes of putting an end to its far ranging carnage. It is early spring, and your party follows the thaw up the side of the mountain to an old ruin which surveils the surrounding valley.   So far the ruin, and your quarry, remain beyond sight. 

A new DM asked me if I could walk them through the creation of an introductory adventure; combining not only a solid first questhook but also incorporating my advice on session zero, party formation, and the fundamentals of dm storytelling. This adventure prompt is the result, serving not only as a tutorial for newer players, but a teaching example for new DMs as well. It can easily be run as a oneshot, used as a launching point for a greater story, or (for those of you who have some adventures under your belt) seeded into an ongoing game as a sidequest. The structure of the adventure is fairly simple, so rather than slathering on extraneous detail I’ll be going in depth about WHY each section of the adventure happens the way it does, and what purpose it serves in turning a group of scattered players into an invested adventuring party. 

We begin with the party already gathered and on their way up the side of the mountain, providing everyone (including the DM) with a clear direction for the action. What are we doing? we’re heading towards the ruin, and all we need to worry about at the moment is taking actions that lead us closer to it. Similarly, this adventure provides the players with direction during session zero, as they know vaguely what they’ll be doing on this outing (hunting a beast alongside a knight) and what sort of characters they might be playing: who would sir Volias seek out for aid? What have they done to earn themselves reputation as monster hunters? Why did they say yes? Using these sorts of ideas to guide character creation gives you a cohesive group identity right from the get go without having to bend over backwards to get the party together.

The mountain itself is a series of easy challenges intended to show off the game’s basic mechanics: as well as brief problem solving challenges like: the old bridge is out over this frozen stream, how do we cross? Do we take the high road or the low road, and can we make a survival check to get more information? Throw in some low stakes combat against some woodland critters freshly woken from hibernation and you’ve got yourself a solid tutorial. 

Travelling up the mountain also lets you start laying down the emotional foundation of the adventure: Character introductions can be made as in-depth as your group feels comfortable with, rounding off with the reserved but jovial Syr Volias.  Wishing to foster a spirit of camaraderie, the knight errant is quick to defer to others in situations where their skills or abilities would take prescience ( and thus giving you as the DM an in-canon method of spotlighting different players).  A shadow will be cast over the proceedings when the party finds the remains of a hunter lodged in a tree, a victim of their quarry thoroughly savaged and partially devoured, a prelude to more devastation should they fail. Bonus points if the hunter is someone known by at least one of the partymembers (perhaps providing the backdrop for a character introduction on its own),  with EXTRA bonus points if the hunter has a family back in town that the party has to inform. This pulls double duty of giving the party something to care about early, along with a reason to check out the town later on. 

Once they reach the overlook, the party is in for a chance of pace:  The ruins of Dawngrace were once the towerhome of noble family that ruled the region before the current war, and Syr Volias aims to use them as cover during his ambush of the beast. That of course requires the party to partake in a bit of dungeon delving, which gives you the chance for some structured exploration as they make their way through locked chambers and fight off whatever critters happen to be squatting within. Paint the dungeon as an escape room, a sequence of challenges to be faced to get to the ultimate goal, with a few hidden secrets and bits of treasure for them to discover along the way. If they start to develop a taste for lore,  splice in a few hints about the family that used to live here, and the war that pushed them off of their land some two decades ago. 

Then comes the night, the party’s first introduction to the long rest mechanics and a refresh of all their capabilities. Use this time to do some more character/roleplay work by asking them how they spend the night, what they’re feeling on the eve of battle. Mention the chance for a couple characters to go hunting and maybe snag some dinner, or pass around a flask. Likewise mention that after his late hour Prayers, Syr Volias removes his helm and starts preparing his gear for the next morning, signalling to the party that this might be a good time to approach him and ask about his whole deal, now that he seems to be less on guard. 

The knight errant is happy to talk about his previous adventures and his plans for the coming confrontation , but Making a proper persuasion or insight check ( good to give those social characters something) will reveal their chivalric escort has much more to say. As it turns out, the older warrior was hungry for glory in his youth, and the Kaeriellas, the noble family that plundered the lowland settlements and installed themselves as the new powers of the region. Volias is sparse with the exact details, save that he did many things that he regrets during those bloody years, and has spent the decades since trying to atone. He’ll mention that his shield was gifted to him by an elder of the temple of Pelor, a sign of the new beginning he made on his quest for redemption, and a weighty reminder of the past for which he must atone. 

Having fought many a beast of the wing, Volias is prepared for tomorrow: shelter the more vulnerable characters inside the ruin and prepare bait for their target within striking distance. Run ropes between the trees and various pitons to restrict its arial movement, draw it in as the dawnlight crests over the ridge and reflect it back with his sacred shield, potentially blinding it and causing it to crash. The battle will go well enough, but the beast the knight has set to fight is no mere drake as he expected, but a wyvern, which will bring it’s deadly sting to bear on the party… and the valiant knight who will intercede between them and a killing blow. 

After the battle is done, it’s time to ham up the death scene: Players often enter a campaign with different levels of investment, and it’s shared experiences (Both good and bad) that help them tune in to eachother and turn a gaggle of friends or random aquaintances playing together into a cohesive adventuring party. Its the clarity of the scene that’ll help sell it: a beautiful dawn lit morning, the chill of the mountain air, and the bitter sting of martyrdom that the party will need to come to terms with as Syr Volias chokes out his last. This knight  could have been a mentor to the party, he could have been a friend, and now they have to watch him die as the poison eats him from the inside out. He’ll congratulate them on their victories, offer a few memorable pieces of advice regarding their failings, and tell them to take the beast’s head to his onetime patron to ensure they get their reward. 

As one final request, Volias asks them that whatever they decide to do with his body or the rest of his possessions, if they could carry his shield to a particular temple several towns away and return it to the high priestess there, with an apology about not being able to keep his promises. This provides you with one of your first early game quest hooks to not only encourage the party to go out and see your world, but also gives them something precious to protect, something both emotionally charged and mechanically useful that might be stolen or lost if they’re not careful. 

You also might have noticed that we’ve been building up an early game antagonist in the form of the Kaeriellas noble family, who seized this region in a war of territorial aggression a generation ago.  No great world conquering villains, they exist to give your party someone to resent early game, especially after the heroes jump through several hoops (travel, talking their way into an audience, bringing the head if a wyvern to whatever Kaeriallas cousin serves as local magistrate) only to have their trophy plucked from their hands and their promise of payment revoked. The Magistrate will insit their agreement was with Syr Volias, reward to be delivered when he delivered proof he’d slain the beast,  and since Volias is not there to collect, there is no contract to pay out. This is going to drive your players up the wall, but that’s exactly what we want, getting them to dislike the Kaeriellas is not only another strong feeling they have about the world, but is also a stepping stone to getting them to dislike anyone the noble bastards work with in the future, a great way to set up new villains who come into the story as the party adventures and levels up. 

I hope this has been useful to you, and if it seems like a lot of prep work for a simple adventure of “ go here and kill this thing” understand that a lot of these steps are me over-explaining a lot of DM storyteller skills that usually become subconscious when mastered.  

[yxstxrdrxxm]

SYNOPSIS: One shot should be enough. That's all there is to it, right?

TW/s: Yandere behavior, emotional manipulation, guilt tripping, lowkey these two are terrifying to deal with, kazuha has no remorse in some of these, vaguely terrifying heizou, nsfw warnings also include drugging, blackmail, and arson.

NOTE FROM HR: Happy Valentine’s Day, 🩸 anon. It seems your boyfriends decided to do something very special for you. After all, they liked you, didn’t they? I hope you like sweets, because I know they prepared something special for you. Just… Try not to look into what they made too much.

Dealing with Kazuha and Heizou isn't all that bad. For you, the two of them had been nothing but kind and welcoming, although the first time you have decided to rent them in the app, the greeting was more or less a surprise.

You remembered what Heizou told you, since he would remind you so often. You were, in his words, 'a golden retriever'. Why did he call you that? You were answered with that you just looked like it, without any sort of explanation.

For Kazuha, though, he called you his 'maple'. An endearing nickname, considering you red through his profile that he was a poet and isn't fan of being too mean to whoever rents him.

The one thing that you knew from their terms was to not ask either of them about Wanderer or Kamisato Ayato and his clan. For Heizou, it's because he worked for the bigwig himself and didn't want word to spread about his comments, and for Kazuha, he had... 'History', as he puts it.

Going past the sudden surprise and the slight confusion between you and the two men, the three of you discussed some ground rules on what they should expect from you and vice versa.

For Kazuha, he wanted more than to treat you like a proper boyfriend, and he didn't have as much limitations other than prying into his past unless stated otherwise.

As for Heizou, he wanted to keep things light and casual, but he also wouldn't like it if you try to get into his connections with the higher up he's working for and for his job.

In your case, you knew it was to be expected. The rules clearly stated that renting a boyfriend in MixMatch is fair game for the boyfriend and the client, and the boyfriend can decide what rule the other party must follow.

It also works as a sort of 'out', just in case they felt as though they wouldn't be able to get along with the boyfriend they rented with a full refund.

With this in mind, you told the two that the same was to be expected: you don't want either of them to dig into your past, and you don't want them to force you to things you hate. After all, you had to scrounge up enough money to afford them as their prices are on the lower side than other guys.

And... Well, that's where you three are at right now. Granted, Kazuha enjoys going out, but he seems to adapt quite easily to your tastes. Heizou, though, enjoyed bantering with someone who can tolerate his little antics like the white haired musician.

Sometimes, you two would end up having a bit of friendly banter on who sucks at a specific game, while Kazuha will play as a 'referee' for the two of you.

One of those moments was now.

"Pfft, you suck at being a hunter, 'zou," you said, your fingers moving to have your little bony knight combat with Hornet. "I'm going to finish Greenpath if you don't come in here soon!"

"Oh, really?" you heard Heizou answer, laughing as he manages to join in the frey. "Well, you clearly aren't doing so good against miss Hornet, Finn."

You flinched as he began to attack you when Hornet wasn't nearby, making you slip and get hurt by the warrior as a result.

"Hey!"

Parrying both attacks, you hear Kazuha enter, the scent of coffee wafting in the air as he placed the mug beside Heizou. At your peripheral vision, he walked off from Heizou's side and went to your right, placing down a drink.

Ah, the scent of strawberry milkshake... You swore this man knows you like it extra sweet.

"It seems you two are at it again," said Kazuha, the albino watching as the two gamers clashed swords, dodging Hornet's attack when she got too close to hurting either of them.

"It's fun, Kazuha! Say, why don't you come in and join me and Finn?"

Kazuha laughed as you hear the cushions move before he sat down.

"No need. I'm more content in watching you two compete over who can beat the game than anything else."

"Aw, boo! You'll enjoy it, Kaz!"

It was you who protested this time, which made the latter hum. Although, you couldn't really look at him as you were busy trying to get Heizou down to his knees (metaphorically, of course).

"Seeing you two bond and play games is enough for me, maple."

... There it is again. The nickname he gives you is enough to make you sputter.

"I-- hmph, you're missing out," you grumbled, but the tone was playful. It was enough to have Heizou chuckle and land a particular hit when you were distracted.

"Whoops~ seems like you aren't looking, retriever," he quips, causing you to huff.

"Oh, shut up!"

For the three of you, the idea of renting a boyfriend to be able to do these things never crossed your minds. To those who are looking in, it just seem more like three friends, hanging out on a special day.

Three friends hanging out in one person's home on Valentine's, sharing laughs and banters as they played games.

Yes. That's how it should be.

After all, you wouldn't want to know what goes underneath that sense of naive fun, would you?

After having beaten Heizou through a 5 round lose streak (seriously, you sometimes wonder if the detective has a damn tracker on you), the three of you realized that you don't have food for the next few days.

In your case, well... You are the definition of a broke college student. Buying groceries outside is almost like some form of scam, considering the inflation on certain goods. But with the two of your boyfriends, budgeting was not an issue.

What was an issue, however, was what was essential to buy and what isn't.

"We may be able to live off with these for a while," you told the two men, your brows furrowed in thought at the list. "Still, I'm not sure if there's anything else we're missing. I don't even know if it adds to the additional fees aside from renting you guys..."

Kazuha shook his head, his hand moving to place it on your shoulder. A comforting gesture, considering you enjoyed touch and craved it from the two of them.

"We talked about this, ダーリン. We made sure that whatever expenses we spent on you wouldn't count to the cost you paid for us beforehand, remember?"

Your frown was still present. It was clear that you were struggling to remember, and it caused Heizou to pat your head with a chuckle.

"Look, if you're so worried that it could, why don't you see it as us treating you? It is Valentine's Day, so it'd be nice if you don't have to remind the two of us and your little head that we cost more than a month's rent."

Ah. Right.

"... Fine," you answered, sighing. "I guess I forgot that you two aren't actually my boyfriends. That, and spending for you two costs an arm, and I'd rather not pay for any additional expenses if I want to live for a year."

This caused them to chuckle.

"Oh, you don't have to."

After all, they have plans they want to spend with on Valentine's Day. Some that you weren't even aware of are already in motion.

Spending time with Heizou was easy, since Kazuha has a full day ahead to make this the most special for the three of you. After all, they've been deciding on how to spend it with the one they love most.

Now, sure, both have their... Differences, but the two loved Finn. To them, they were the best they've met so far, and the chemistry was already there. What more could either of them ask for?

Well, there was one thing they both wanted.

While the two are out buying groceries, Kazuha gets a phone call. Checking his phone, his eyes narrowed to see who was contacting him. Accepting it, he placed it on his shoulder as he got to work on setting up the house.

"Hello, █████."

"Hello, Kazuha," a familiar voice answers. 

"I wasn't expecting for you to contact me so soon," the albino stated, but the warmth in his voice was gone. It was the same thing that the latter could hear as he began to prepare for their final 'surprise'. "Is there another one you're letting us check to see if they pass?"

"... No, it's not that. I'm actually contacting you to inform you of what the Boss wants."

Kazuha stops for a moment, and he took a deep breath to calm his nerves.

He never liked their boss. No one does.

After all, that boss had ties to the underworld and what goes on. It's why they were able to host 'MixMatch', a dating app. Although, if you asked him, he didn't trust that it was a simple 'dating app'.

What dating app would have it's ties to trafficking, anyway?

"... What did he say?"

"He wants the clients that failed to get any matches gone."

...

The glass cup he was holding shatters from his grip.

He needs to clean it up. He does. But that information gave him chills.

"... Is that it?"

"Yes. I'm not sure who would get the short end of the stick, but he's planning on getting our clients involved on that. It's... Terrifying to think about."

Of course it would, he thinks. No one would be sane enough to propose THAT idea, right?

"I see. It... Truly is."

...

"You don't... Plan on hurting them, do you, Kazuha?"

"Why would I?"

He grabbed a broom, watching as he saw the clock move it's hands to strike 4.

"Like I'll let him touch what's ours to begin with."

"We're home! God, going out is such a headache..."

What greeted Finn was a curious sight.

"Welcome home, darling," Kazuha said, placing down the last plate of food he made. "Heizou didn't give you a hard time, did he?"

"Me? Giving our darling Finn a hard time? You wound me, Kazuha!" Heizou stated, placing a hand on his forehead almost dramatically. "It's almost like you forgot that I wouldn't have done anything to them."

"Well, you almost got away with buying more rope when Kazuha said we're on a tight budget—"

"Hey, hey, hey!" He shushed them, seeing Kazuha squint his eyes at the detective. "It's not like I'll spend it outside of our budget! Well... If it's not that expensive."

Finn and Kazuha sighed.

"Please tell me it's for the Crux, Heizou," the musician grumbled, giving him a glare. "For if it's anything else past that, I'll kick your shins in."

Scared of the outcome, Heizou yelped.

"It's for the Crux! Man alive, Kazuha, are you really about to do that just because I want to help miss Beidou?"

“Yes.”

“How terrifying! … And bold.”

Taking a seat, Finn watched the two men bicker lightly as they retrieved their food. They knew that it was Valentine’s, so it was quite pleasant to have a celebration with the people they cared for— rented or not.

Thus, that evening was spent with the trio speaking amongst themselves. Future plans, outings, and even some small in-betweens. Although, Finn didn’t recall when they had lost track of time… Or when they had simply nodded off.

All they knew was that day… It was one of the best celebrations they had.

…

When the two knew they were asleep, Kazuha grabbed his phone, his warm eyes gone cold.

It was time that they faced the truth of their side job: the one thing they needed to do, as much as they hated it. Even if it's only to ‘play’ the part, they’re both used to having their true intentions shielded for their own benefit.

“You know what to do,” he told Heizou, watching him sigh and prepare himself.

“Of course… It’s for our lives, after all.”

The two spared a glance at the slumbering client they had, feeling a sense of pity. They hated hurting these people, but that’s what the boss wanted. Their old one would have objected, but those who worked in Celestia Inc. are aware of the consequences should they be stopped.

And now, they had to swallow the bitter pill that was murder. Such a shame; Heizou was starting to like them, and so was Kazuha.

Raising the gun, he placed the barrel and put his finger on the tri—

Ring, ring.

Ring, ring.

…

Heizou stopped for a moment and grabbed the phone, answering it with his left hand.

“Hello? Who is this?”

…

“Hello, Shikanoin Heizou. Mind if you drop that gun you’re holding and speak to me outside?”

Kazuha scrutinized the look of apprehension as Heizou paused, turning his head to the gun. It was already aimed at their ex-client, but he knew that voice demanded business. Afterwards, he huffed and pulled it away, noticing the albino’s brows furrow.

He was confused, but that’s okay. It was normal to be confused in a situation such as this.

“Hide them somewhere safe,” he mouthed to Kazuha. “I’ll deal with this.”

Watching the musician carry Finn in his arms and leave, he sighed and adjusted the phone on his hands, his eyes remaining sharp as ever. “Alright,” he answered, turning his heel to leave the house. “Would you mind answering as to who I’m speaking to?”

“Oh, you should recognize who I am,” said the caller. “Look up.”

Reaching the porch, he turned his head up, noticing the familiar monochrome and red clashing and mixing into a unified sense of color. And for a mere moment, the ‘detective’ that people loved felt the dread that his past ‘clients’ had, should they be cleaned up with.

“Greetings, Shikanoin Heizou,” the caller greeted, their smile twisting itself when they saw the stiffness from him. “No need to panic. I wouldn’t dare hurt what’s tied to a shady business unless stated otherwise. Now, what brings you here?”

“... I’m here for my client with Kazuha,” answered Heizou, but he sounded curt. “That’s all there is to it.”

“Is it now? And how about those… ‘sweets’ you have? Is there anything in it?”

“Nothing of the sort, miss officer,” he retorted with a shrug, but he stopped moving when he felt the barrel of the gun on his head.

Loaded. Of course.

“I’ll ask again. Is there anything in those ‘sweets’?”

…

One shot and I’d drop dead. Not a good predicament.

“... Yes. Sleeping drugs.”

“I see.”

The barrel didn’t move. It left him even more apprehensive of the outcome. After all, it was clear that whoever they are, they excel a lot more in using guns, and they also have the upper hand against him.

Such a bother.

“One last question: do you mind if you do this favor for me?”

He could feel something cold. Metallic… And clearly not used. There’s a latch on the front, and a sticker that was ripped on its back. He didn’t know what it was, but he could smell the scent of charcoal on it— it was strong enough for him to have a whiff.

“Would you mind burning that house behind you? I’m aware you two have made up your mind that you’d get rid of Finn, but it seems you two got cold feet.”

Heizou seems to have felt his heart stop beating.

How did they know?

“Such a shame. I believe the boss knew you two would be excellent ‘boyfriends’, so to speak,” he heard them continue, sighing. “And here you are, hesitating to murder yet another lovesick ‘client’ who’s grown fond of you two. I’m quite surprised you haven’t seen how twisted this is.”

The barrel digs in deeper to his head.

“Then again, we are all sick in the head, aren’t we?”

…

Heizou had no rebuttal. After all, they all came with ulterior motives.

“Well, Heizou? Will you do the honors?”

“... Fine,” he answered. A bit too late, one may add, but he knew that he was not in a good position. He was being forced, and behind those words, the obvious and looming threat was present.

If you don’t, I’ll inform your boss that you failed the job.

“I’ll burn the place. Kazuha is responsible for taking care of anything else, should there be any more requirements we have to follow after getting rid of the ‘evidence’ here.”

“Splendid. I was wondering if you were truly having cold feet. As expected from a detective such as yourself.”

Satisfied with the response, the caller lowered the gun they had and tucked it away. With a satisfied hum, they turned their heels and walked down the steps, going to the entrance and to their motorcycle parked on the side of the fence.

“Be sure to do the job. You know what happens if you don’t..”

Heizou couldn’t help but stand as he watched them ride on top of a motorcycle and drive off in the night, the feeling of the lighter resting in his hands. He felt that weight grew heavier, knowing fully well that he was forced to do such a crime. His hands were already stained in red, but he felt pity. He didn’t want to kill Finn, and even Kazuha can tell.

He can even see that the once quick detective stopped when the topic of arson came up for his beloved ‘client’.

Alas…

… The die was cast, and the cast must die.

Raising his phone, he contacted Kazuha, texting that he will set the house ablaze— and that he needed Kazuha to take Finn back to their home. Kazuha sent him a text to inform him that he took everything that Finn valued when they were gone, so he should be fine burning it all down.

It was only when he finished texting did he look at the house, lamenting that he felt so… Attached to it, like it was his second home.

Heizou hated that part of himself. That part that wanted to keep things as is, just like the good days.

Those days where Kazuha and the others weren’t as twisted. Those who didn’t have to stain their hands for bloody cash. Those who didn’t want to be reminded of what goes down below. And yet, here he was… Standing over the house like it was him denying the call of adventure.

With one deep breath, he turned the lighter on and tossed it inside. Heizou watched as the flame traveled around the flooring and through the walls, going to various rooms and setting things ablaze quicker than he could catch. It wasn’t long until the house was engulfed in the fire he willingly made, those pops and sizzles haunting his memory.

It was done, he thought.

And yet his chest still felt as heavy as he remembered ever since he ‘got in’.

@.throw-letter-away | do not republish or repost my works anywhere | 2024

[rascal-xo]

I SEE YOU ASKED FOR SOME ANGST 👀💅; simon.having a s/o who never talked to him about her troubled teenhood or childhood etc she also seemed to hide her emotions very well cause they feel like a burden when they open up.until one night ghost and his s/o where trying to fell asleep untill he could hear his s/o sruggling to breath and ghost realizes dat they are having a ptsd attack..they comforted them and his s/o finally opens up about her troubled childhood and dat they have been suffering from those attacks for a long time 😭 and some fluff with ghost comforting them and telling them that they can always come to him if they feel bad or wanna vent

An Unspoken Past - Simon Riley x Female Reader

Chapter summary - After years of bottling up trauma and ptsd from your dangerous career, you finally break down and Simon is there to comfort you…

Warnings: Description of ptsd, trauma, language, FLUFF, angst, violent descriptions

Tags: @pukbadger @fiveshelmet @myguiltypleasures21 @madamemelaninn @emmaadlerrichtofen1 @swissy23 @thatchickwiththecamera @glitterypirateduck @glitteryeggalmondherring @allaboutirem0 @kittyoonsstuff @guiltgoreglory

A/N: Hope I was able to capture this how you wanted!

When you were a recruit for the 141, you were quiet, Mostly kept to yourself for the first few months until you finally began to get relaxed around your new team.

Your file was and still remains confidential. None of the guys questioned any blank spots or gaps in deployment, and above all else treated you like a real person.

When you met Ghost, you two shared a special unspoken connection. Although you were a bit reserved, you were much more outspoken and outgoing than him. Yet, he took a keen interest in you.

Over time that interest turned into something more as you two grew closer from going on missions to training together into the long hours of night.

As months turned into years, the missions that the task force was assigned to grew more dangerous and became more lengthy.

Due to your special combat division skills, you would be on the front line going into any operation. The lack of sleep and countless amounts of blood shed took a toll on your mind. The panic attacks would become more frequent, reminders of your traumatic childhood beginning to seep through.

“I’m fine, just exhausted.” You would sigh, when asked why you were caught staring off into a void in front of you as the world around you seemed to blur into a slow motioned atmosphere.

Simon knew better than your one sided vague responses to the team, but he also knew not to push you for answers. As the nights after long assignments seem to drag, you and Simon began to get closer.

One night of pure lust and never ending passion turned into weeks of nightly visits whenever the opportunity arose.

You and Simon found yourselves once again seeking solace in each other’s company after particularly grueling missions. The weight of your responsibilities lifted momentarily as they embraced in the shadows.

One particular night, the air was thick with a mix of intimacy and vulnerability as you lay in the afterglow of your shared passion. Simon’s mask was off, revealing his unguarded face, and his fingers traced soothing circles on your back.

The comforting touch brought a sense of tranquility, but as time passed, a restlessness grew within you as your mind began to wonder to darker depths.

You tried to push away the uneasy feeling, not wanting to ruin the moment you had shared with Simon, but it intensified, gnawing at your chest. You needed space, air, anything to escape the suffocating grip that was slowly tightening around your heart.

With a sudden urgency, you slipped out of the bed, grabbing one of Simon’s shirts that hung nearby. You hurriedly put it on, seeking some form of comfort and protection from the overwhelming emotions bubbling inside you.

As you walked out of the room, you tried to keep your composure, but your breathing quickened, and your steps became unsteady.

Before you knew it, the panic attack hit you like a tidal wave. Your chest tightened, making it hard to breathe, and your vision blurred with tears. The weight of past traumas and the scars they left behind felt too much to bear, and you leaned against the wall, trying to steady yourself.

Trying to close your eyes all you could see and feel were screams of the injured and dying pierced the air, mingling with the sounds of gunfire and distant sirens.

You felt a mixture of helplessness and guilt, as you couldn’t do anything to stop the violence. You felt paralyzed, unable to move or even look away from the heartbreaking scene unfolding before their eyes.

The same scene would play over and over again like a broken record, driving you crazy.

Simon, who had been taken by surprise at your sudden departure, followed you out, concern etched on his face. He gently approached you, his presence a grounding force even in the midst of your turmoil.

As Simon reached out to touch Y/N’s shoulder, his intentions genuine and caring, she suddenly flinched, her eyes widening with panic. She jumped back, distancing herself from his touch as if his presence was suddenly overwhelming.

“No, no, I’m fine.,” You gasped, your voice shaky.

Simon’s heart sank. He immediately pulled his hand back, giving you space. He understood the complexity of trauma too well.

As your struggled to regain control over your emotions, the weight of the panic attack and the overwhelming emotions proved too much to bear.

Your breaths quickened, becoming shallow and rapid, as you started to hyperventilate. Tears streamed down your cheeks, and your body trembled with the intensity of your feelings.

You hesitated for a moment, torn between the fear of your memories and the desperate need for comfort.

But the genuine concern in Simon’s eyes was a powerful anchor, drawing you towards him. With a choked sob, you fell into his arms, seeking refuge in his warmth and strength as he caught you effortlessly.

Simon held you gently yet firmly, providing a sense of safety and grounding amidst the turmoil of your emotions. He stroked your back soothingly, his touch a steady rhythm that matched the beat of your heart.

“I’ve got you, Love,” Simon murmured softly, his voice a soothing balm to your wounded soul. “Just take deep breaths, in and out. You’re safe now.”

You clung to him, your grip on his shirt tight as you allowed yourself to lean on his strength.

“I’m sorry,” you spoke, your voice barely audible.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Simon said firmly, but with softness to his voice.

“I don’t know how to keep it in anymore.” You choked, holding onto him tightly.

“You don’t have to say anything right now, Love. Let’s focus on breathing, yeah?” He reassured you, holding you against him.