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kaedekolya · 2 months

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clarence and his counterparts: man or monster?

So we were talking about Clarence’s new android SSR (Faint Night Light) in the LBC discord server, and it got me thinking about the monster allusions that seem to be a common thread across Clarence’s main stories. Then we discussed the diary entries from his White Day event, and it occurred to me that this monster imagery also ties into his modern-day counterpart – and with that, this post was born.

In other words: is Clarence a man, a monster, or somewhere in between?

[ SPOILERS: Clarence’s main stories and Chrono Theatre diaries. This meta post is structured as story-specific sections, namely Godheim, Eden, and the modern world, so you can skip over the world(s) you haven't read yet. No Awakening spoilers, don't worry! ]

- ☽ -

Godheim: Archmage Clarence

First, let’s talk about Godheim Clarence. As the Archmage, he bears a heavy responsibility upon his shoulders – to oversee the Magi Tower, to fight the Glacial Butterflies, and, ultimately, to protect the country and its people.

In order to fulfil this duty that he has chosen to undertake, Clarence seals his heart and shuts others out. He denies his emotions, and resents himself for having these emotions, to the point that he disparages MC for “[acting] impetuously” and belittles her capabilities when she shows concern for Amelia’s wellbeing. Archmage Clarence’s impassivity is his shield against the emotions he views as a hindrance.

Yet he was not always this way. Clarence is a casualty of cruel circumstances, a tender soul torn apart by trauma. When MC is confronted with the truth of the mages’ magic, having witnessed a mage die before her very eyes, she notes that “[there] is no pain or compassion on Clarence’s face,” because “[this] is a sight he has seen all too many times before.” Decades of watching his fellow mages succumb to the Glacial Butterflies that nest inside them, and decades of having to end the lives of mutating mages under his purview, have conditioned Clarence into numbing his heart to such pain. How else could he have stayed sane, after a century of bearing witness to suffering wrought by his own hands?

Archmage Clarence’s disposition is initially described by MC as an “[icy] presence,” but this is the facade that he projects as a defence mechanism, not his genuine self. Clarence is so accustomed to the chill of the Glacial Butterflies within him that he has taken on the frost as a personality trait, believing that his frigidity defines him. He does not view himself as a human capable of warmth; instead, he thinks of himself as a mutant, as an icy monster.

Even so, Clarence cannot deny his innate inclination towards kindness. When he notices that Amelia isn’t feeling well, he tells her to sit in the carriage. When Amelia’s temperature drops, he casts a spell to warm the shivering child up, even as he grumbles that he’s wasting his time and magic. When Amelia’s death is imminent, he tries to send her off in the gentlest way possible, then grants her final wish by conjuring a connection to the water mirror. Clarence may insist that he does not care, but his actions reflect his compassion.

It is this very kindness that steers him towards a path of selfless sacrifice, for the sake of his country and its people. The life of a mage may have been forced upon him, by the man that gave a gravely injured child no other option but the potion that would transform him, yet Clarence learns to harness his power for good. He spends his youth eliminating Glacial Butterflies and protecting the village of the snow plains, and despite the harsh conditions of the path he now treads, he does not hold a grudge against the family that sold him off and thrived in the resulting profit. Instead, he returns to check on them from afar, and when an onslaught of Glacial Butterflies attack, he protects them with every last bit of energy within him.

Still, his family’s betrayal left an indelible mark on his psyche. Back when he’d been given the potion, he’d resolved to succumb to his injuries rather than drink it. Despite his instinctive desire to live, MC notes that his “will to live [had been] virtually non-existent,” because there is “[no] despair greater than being betrayed by your own family.” The young Clarence had not seen a reason to live, when his family had forsaken him. It is only when MC saves him, urging him to live on, that he resolves to survive and repay this debt. Each time MC encounters him in her voyage through time, he is on the verge of death, and each time, his dwindling will to live stems from his despair over those he could not save. What ultimately keeps him alive is the vow he swore to his saviour.

This characterisation is one that carries through his immortal lifespan. Clarence does not live for himself; he lives for others. Whether that means risking his life to defend a village, or sacrificing himself in a ritual to save the country’s inhabitants, the underlying premise is the same – Clarence lives for the person who saved him, and for the promise he made to them. He allows others to form negative opinions of him based on the assumptions they’ve made, in order to keep the secret of the ritual and the Glacial Butterflies from them, because their scorn towards him matters less than their safety. He closes himself off from others, never permitting them to reach out to him, because he cannot allow companionship and compassion to distract him from his purpose. He “[cannot] afford to be sentimental,” because he cannot have anyone or anything clouding his judgement. Better to be the enemy of the state that saves it, than the friend of the state that cannot do anything as it crumbles.

It is ironic, then, that Clarence’s devotion to his promise leads him from striving to live and fulfil it, to voluntarily dying for that same promise. His life, his existence itself, is secondary to the promise he has made. He will live to protect the world for his saviour, but if the only way to protect it is to die, then die he shall. Perhaps he views it as a penance of sorts, an atonement for the sins he’s committed. Perhaps he believes the new world would be better off without a monster like him.

For all his calculative callousness and stoic solitude, Clarence is deeply self-aware. Not only is he conscious of the suffering he inflicts and the ramifications of his actions, but he also ruminates upon his sins until they turn to guilt in his gut and self-loathing in the deepest recesses of his soul. He does not turn a blind eye to the pain he witnesses; instead, he looks it straight in the eye, internalises it, and forces himself to feel nothing at all.

Clarence may appear to have no qualms about exploiting people and reducing them to cogs in a plan greater than its constituent parts, but his interactions with Amelia prove otherwise. Right before he sends her off on what is meant to be a suicide mission, his carefully-crafted defenses slip, and he asks whether she hates him. Clarence believes that he has failed to live up to the Archmage’s title, that he has fallen short of being a “guiding force for all the mages” and a “protector.” He condemns himself for his callous strategies and merciless manipulation, since he has been treating people like chess pieces and “using them as [he sees] fit.” He disparages himself for “[standing] by on the sidelines, safe and sound.” He believes others hate him because he’s given them all the reasons to, because he deserves to be hated, because he, too, hates himself. All this while, he fails to recognise that he has taken on the greatest sacrifice of all – the burden of leadership, of decision-making, of being responsible for all the blood on his hands.

This downplaying of his own suffering, alongside his disregard of his own well-being, is what drives Clarence to self-sacrifice time and time again. When a theory about the Glacial Butterflies begins to take shape in his mind, he does not test it out on one of his mages, because he does not view them as expendable despite what he claims. Instead, he uses himself for his experiment, slicing his chest open and bearing the agonising pain in order to ascertain the truth of the magic within him.

On the verge of being overcome by the Glacial Butterflies, despite having prepared for this eventuality by shackling his limbs, he makes one last selfless request. “My Lord, you must kill me before I turn,” he entreats, willing to relinquish his own life for the safety of others. Even when Philip protects him from the Glacial Butterflies, refusing to kill him, Clarence believes that there is no place for him in the future that his Lord envisions.

Decades later, he still echoes this same sentiment. “There is no future without sacrifice,” he tells Lars, and he does not see himself as part of that future, does not see himself as deserving of that future. Archmage Clarence thinks of himself as a monster, not a man, and a monster is better off dead than alive.

It is a revelation, to him, that Amelia does not hate him. MC does not hate him. Lars, Alkaid, the mages that carry on the legacy of the Magi Tower, none of them hate him. They do not view him as a monster; they view him as a martyr, a protector, a saviour. Someone who did his best, and gave his all. Archmage Clarence leaves behind a legacy through his sacrifice, spurred by the human heart he still harbours deep within.

- ☽ -

Eden: Falcon Clarence

Next, we have the Falcon Clarence of Eden. The lone ranger of the desert, the mercenary that eliminates Sandswimmers with impeccable precision and works with no one else.

“A bait that only knows how to cry is a burden,” his mentor tells him, and Clarence internalises that into his cognitive framework and guiding compass. It is “the first lesson Liore taught [him];” that he must prove his worth in order to live. His scent lures the Sandswimmers to him, and so he must make himself useful by seeking out danger.

Valued only for his utility as bait, Clarence learns that his worth is determined by his fighting skills. With no other way to survive, he becomes a NEOS by fusing Sandswimmer gems into his body. Clarence pays the price of this acquired power through the gradual erosion of his memories, but that is far from the only thing he has lost. His decision to accept the integration of these foreign, beastly objects into his body has changed him irrevocably. He thinks of himself not as a human, but as a mutant being only one step away from becoming a monstrous Lost. Still, he endeavours to “remember [his] humanity,” because he refuses to become a “mere weapon [that knows] nothing but destruction.” Falcon Clarence understands that he is, by definition, a monster, but he refuses to relinquish the last shreds of his humanity.

In his first encounter with MC, he is rational and pragmatic as always, scrutinising her motives and seeing no reason to work together. Years of solitude, with no one else to depend on, have honed Clarence’s reflexes into an “instinct for self-defence.” Yet his reaction to MC’s request reveals that his solitude has been shaped by circumstance, not entirely by choice. When MC explains her reason for seeking out Eden, even though it does not sound particularly convincing, Clarence accepts it as sufficient and agrees to lead the way. Despite the potential risk of allowing a stranger close, he offers MC a ride on his motorcycle. Subsequently, he continues to help her out, defending the children’s shelter and giving her the gems he’d collected, even as he refuses to follow her any further.

Falcon Clarence claims that he works alone, but everything he does is for the sake of protecting others. He fights in the desert to protect the shelters from Sandswimmers, and he fights in Eden to protect Lin and the other NEOS from the Lost. He brings MC to the NEOS Association, so that she can rest for a night and learn essential skills from Lin. He knows that the night is dangerous, so despite his own preference for working alone, he ensures that MC has a community of protection around her.

Even as he dismisses everything and everyone else as burdens, his actions speak otherwise. Despite having met MC for only a single day, he offers his assistance to her time and time again, from rides on his motorcycle to filling water bottles with her. He could easily leave her to fend for herself, but he chooses not to leave her behind even when that would be the easier way out.

Perhaps the reason Clarence refuses to work with other people is that he’s afraid. Afraid of dragging them down, afraid of becoming their burden. He fears that history will repeat itself. He cannot bear to lose someone he cares for again, so he refrains from caring about anyone at all. Each time Clarence chastises others for being a hindrance, he is reproaching his past self for his inadequacy. Each time he risks his life to protect others, he is atoning for his failure to save his mentor.

MC says that she understands how Clarence feels, because “acting alone means nobody will be hurt because of [him].” In a way, acting alone also protects himself from being hurt. It is a defence mechanism born from his past, when he had to “learn to accept [his] losses” from a young age. He couldn’t afford to grieve Liore for long, not with the constant threat of the Sandswimmers, and so he could do nothing else but “live on with what memories [he] had left.” He’d forced himself to harden his heart to his emotions, but he could not suppress them entirely.

Clarence blames his moment of weakness, of emotional folly, for causing Liore’s death. It was her humanity, even in her final moments as a Lost, that held her back from killing him and caused her to die. He regrets his choice to this day, and perhaps it is this survivor’s guilt that pushes him to fight harder until he reaches the brink.

It is this same guilt, alongside his resolve to not lose anyone else he cares for, that drives him towards self-sacrifice. When he realises that MC needs a soul stone – his soul stone – to open the door within Central Control, he unflinchingly raises his gun to his head, as if it were the natural and logical decision to make. He is ready to offer his life without a moment’s hesitation, because that is the utility he can offer in this moment, in order to keep MC safe and help her achieve her goal. She has given him a reason to fight, and he will die trying to fulfil it.

Ultimately, it is his encounter with MC – and the companionship which blooms from it – that saves him. Without demanding anything in return, she cries for his pain, fights by his side, and shoulders his burdens with him. Clarence doubts his humanity, even as he holds fast to it, since he is all too cognisant of the monstrous traits within. In turn, MC’s unwavering trust reaffirms the humanity within him, reminding him that he is worthy of living.

Falcon Clarence may not be fully human on a biological level, and he may still succumb to the effects of the monsters within him from time to time, but he has managed to preserve his heart and his humanity. His tale is one of healing, of opening up, and of learning to value himself for who he is and not what he can do.

- ☽ -

Modern World: Clarence

Finally, let’s circle back to modern-day Clarence. At first glance, he’s the calm, collected, and capable Student Council president, who always seems to have affairs in order and circumstances under control.

Then, in his Chrono Theatre diary entries, we learn that he had a psychiatrist observing him from a young age, due to his gifted aptitude and exceptional intelligence beyond that of his peers. This revelation sparked a discussion in the LBC discord server, which spurred this message of mine that then became the basis for this meta post:

Clarence is well-versed in decorum, but that doesn’t necessarily mean it comes naturally to him. It’s likely that he learned social etiquette by picking it up from observing how other people behave, so he knows the appropriate responses to give and the socially-acceptable ways to carry himself. However, because this social understanding is not an innate trait but a learned one, there are often times when he doesn’t recognise the need for social niceties, and instead his instinctual response – founded on his internal logic – comes through.

One example of this can be found as early as his second interaction with MC, after she paints an artwork of him:

The polite thing to do would be to express interest in or appreciation of the finished product, regardless of one’s actual feelings towards it. However, Clarence “doesn’t show the slightest interest” in MC’s painting. Does this mean that he doesn’t care for it, and doesn’t see the need to put on a pretence? Quite the contrary. Instead, it’s because he thinks he doesn’t have anything useful to offer in response, and thus he stays silent.

Here, we see a disconnect between how Clarence understands the world, and how other people tend to view it. While most people would appreciate receiving praise or validation, Clarence doesn’t particularly see the need to receive either, and thus doesn’t immediately think of giving them to others. Rather, he takes a more pragmatic approach, focusing on utility; a piece of work deserves feedback for the effort poured into it. However, as a law major, he does not have sufficient knowledge or expertise regarding art. As such, he believes that his feedback would not be useful, and thus it is better not to say anything at all.

This ties into how Clarence views himself as his roles, and the functions he can serve. He understands that he has worth, but he evaluates this worth through his services as the Student Council president, or his contributions as a law intern. When he assists others, he doesn’t think of it as going out of his way to help them; instead, he views it as part of his rightful duty.

As a result, Clarence doesn’t view himself as simply “Clarence.” Rather, he thinks of himself as Clarence, the Student Council president; Clarence, an upperclassman; Clarence, a friend. If he can fulfil someone’s needs through a role that he holds, he will do it, even at the expense of himself.

We see this most prominently in Clarence’s “Break Time” R card story:

When the senior who’s supposed to interpret for an academic speaker falls ill and fails to attend, Clarence steps up to fill their shoes last-minute. William notes that Clarence can be counted on to show up whenever and wherever he’s needed, and MC agrees that he’s “the only one who’s up to the task.”

However, what most people don’t recognise are the sheer lengths Clarence will go to in order to fulfil his duties. On top of his regular responsibilities, filling in for the interpreter caused Clarence to “[burn] the midnight oil” preparing for the speech, and taking care of the sick speaker meant that Clarence could not sleep for two days. He doesn’t recognise that he’s constantly going above and beyond, because to him it’s a given, but he is in fact pushing himself past his limits, and past the line that most people would draw.

It’s interesting to examine MC’s thoughts here, because she interprets Clarence’s willingness to take a nap as a rational understanding that he needs to rest in order to keep functioning. However, this only happens after MC coaxes him into taking a break. If she hadn’t intervened, Clarence would have continued pushing himself until he completed his task – he was already at “the brink of collapse,” and he “only agreed to sleep after [MC] practically begged him to.” Clarence prioritises his responsibilities to the point that he does not recognise his own needs, and thus neglects to take care of himself.

Although modern Clarence doesn’t think of himself as different, or as anything less than a person, it’s evident that he views himself as the roles he fulfils rather than simply as who he is. In turn, this mindset is reflected in his behaviour, which then shapes other people’s perceptions of him. This is how Clarence becomes characterised as the aloof and intimidating Student Council president in the students’ eyes, even though he cares so deeply and helps out so much; most people are unable to look deeper and see Clarence as the person that he is, because he perceives and presents himself through the lens of his roles.

As such, other people often view Clarence as different from themselves – as if he’s operating on a different wavelength, or existing on a separate plane entirely. Modern Clarence’s genius sets him apart from his peers, but more than that, his perspective of himself winds up alienating himself from other people. Clarence views himself as like others, but others view him as unlike them. He blends in well enough, but he doesn’t quite fit in; he has a place in society, but he doesn’t quite belong.

- ☽ -

Clarence, across time and space

Out of all the Clarences thus far, modern Clarence is perhaps the most well-adjusted, and this reflects the importance of having a support system. Godheim Clarence and Eden Clarence were isolated from a young age and survived alone throughout most of their lives, whereas modern Clarence had family and friends around him. He may not have had the most conventional childhood, but he grew up with his older sister Jaclyn and his close friend Luca, and he also had his psychiatrist Ford observing and monitoring his development. Subsequently, after he enters St Shelter Academia, he gains a circle of friends he can rely on, such as William, O’Connor, and, of course, MC.

Expanding upon Clarence’s St Shelter Academia bonds, we see that Clarence has people around him who genuinely like him for who he is, and are willing to support him unconditionally. O’Connor affectionately refers to Clarence with a nickname – “Shi-kun” in the Japanese voiceover, or “Little Si Lan” in the Chinese one – and for all his devious teasing, it’s clear he looks out for his Student Council successor. As for William, he may whine about Clarence’s by-the-book discipline, but his clumsiness and complaints do not preclude him from helping out when needed. For all that Clarence often chastises William, he still relies on him to assist with Student Council matters, and he knows William is someone he can trust.

Compared to these two, MC is a relatively newer connection, but her bond with Clarence runs deep. Right off the bat, she’s able to meet him on his level and banter with him, and he lets down his guard enough to subtly tease her for trying to trick him. As their relationship develops, Clarence grows to trust her, sharing his inner thoughts and admitting his vulnerabilities. MC is a safe haven for him, and she understands him on a level deeper than most. While the other students may fear Clarence for his aloof disposition, or hesitate to approach him due to his detached rationality, MC sees the earnest sincerity woven into his actions and the warmth laced through his words. Others may think of him as an unfeeling robot or a terrifying monster, but MC loves him for the human that he is.

There’s a subtle but interesting juxtaposition here, in which Godheim Clarence and Eden Clarence – both possessing monstrous mutations within them – view themselves as monsters while most others do not, whereas modern Clarence – wholly human – views himself as human while most others do not. All three Clarences are keenly aware of what constitutes them, allowing this biological understanding to shape their perception of themselves, but they do not recognise that their actions paint a different picture to others.

Regardless of the world he inhabits, Clarence constantly straddles the line between man and monster. His selfless nature and dutiful diligence often lead him to self-sacrifice and superhuman feats, creating the illusion of a monster – but beneath this facade lies, always, the heart of a human.

- ☽ -

thank you for reading!♡

if you have any thoughts about this meta post, i'd love to hear them! responses are always welcome, and my ask box is open~

up next: android clarence, and the inevitability of tragedy. where is the line between human and machine? stay tuned for my thoughts on clarence's awakening main story!

#lovebrush chronicles meta #lovebrush chronicles #for all time #lbc #lbc spoilers #clarence clayden #lbc clarence #lovebrush clarence #godheim clarence #eden clarence #modern clarence #sol's meta musings

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hunterbunter3000 · 1 year

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I think it's also about the way sweetheart touches them. She's gentle with them, which is something rare for absolutely all of them. Sweetheart doesn't assume because they're in the military that they don't need kindness and support and delicate hands. She knows they already think that they don't deserve anything like that so when she sees them wanting it and craving it, she is so willing to give. Her love cup is so full for her team and the people she cares for.

She handles ghost like he's still just Simon Riley, a sad kid deep down. Sweetheart offers up affection that she can just feel is so foreign to him. Yes he can take care of himself but everybody knows it doesn't extend beyond the basics and she takes time to try to heal his aches and pains that he's gotten so used to living with

She's delicate with price, knowing how hard he's worked to keep the team alive and well. How most of the time, he gets no recognition for his efforts. Sure, she teases him and calls him an old man when he complains about his back but in the same breath is offering a massage to get the ever present knot out

She's attentive with soap, hating how he looks like a sad puppy when people try to brush him off as a loud and brash grown up child. She wants him to hold on to that because she knows if it goes away, he'll seem like a shell of himself. She's seen what too long in the field can do to someone like johnny and how it can change them for the worst so she always encourages his jokes and such.

She helps gaz as much as she can. She sees how he pushes himself and how it sometimes ends up in neglect of himself. How many meals has he missed due to trying to just get one more thing done? How many hours of sleep has he skipped to try to figure something out? With a firm hand, she always guides him into taking care of himself and to give himself a much needed break.

IM RAMBLING IM SORRY

AAA NOOO DONT BE SORRY- DONT EVER BE SORRY FOR RAMBLING THIS IS AMAZING 💖✨️✨️💕

(I'm terribly sorry this took so long- BUT GARRICK'S IS PRETTY LONG SO ITS A WIN WIN-)

But holy cow I agree with this so much

Tw: mentions of depression, insecurities, trust issues

I'm really gonna start with Soap because what you said is her biggest fear. She cares deeply for Mactavish and always pays a little bit more attention to him than the others because of that terror.

It would be a nightmare if she didn't see the life in his eyes anymore. Her heart was already broken when her second uncle came back a zombie from being in the army. Didn't talk to anyone, and if he did he would always snap at them. He loved his family still. He really did. But the happiness, and the compassion was gone. He couldn't let go of the guilt, of the regret he had in his choices. He didn't really talk about it, but when he did Sweetheart could see the black tar oozing out of his mouth. All the internal pain and suffering. She doesn't want to see Soap be like that, since their personalities are quite similar. Fun, chipper, determined and kind. She will protect his internal being with everything she has, just like she did with her uncle. So she will always laugh at his jokes and add on to them, making them both double over. She will always stand up for him when someone calls him loud and brash. Telling him it's okay to express yourself how you want to.

If she fails, if she even sees the shine leave his eyes for a second, she knows she failed her uncle again and will never be the same.

Now with Ghost-- GOOAAHHHHDDDD he needs all the hugs and cheek kisses he can get (and really just hugs) he doesn't like to be touched unless he knows you knows you (kinda like König and Roach) it took Sweetheart a WHILEE to get close to Ghost. Yes, he did have a small soft spot for her, but he would NOT let her touch him. It took like five months just to let her touch his shoulder. Because of his insane trust issues and paranoia, he didn't let her get close. He couldn't. He couldn't risk getting hurt from Sweetheart. Kind, charming, thoughtful, Sweetheart. Caring, strong, smart, Sweetheart. He craved for her touch so badly that he knew it was what he needed, but he couldn't handle the pain afterward. But there was no pain when she first hugged him when he came out of that explosion alive. There was no pain when she held his hand through his panic attack. There was just warmth. And love. Through every touch she gave him, it spoke of love and care. She gave him time. She gave him so much patience so he could trust her. So he could love her. And he does.

Price-- that man deserves a hundred medals I swear. As you said, he gets no recognition of his effort from anyone, because that's what he's supposed to do. He's supposed to get everyone out alive, he's supposed to succeed everytime. It's just built in the job with that expectation. But Sweetheart knows in order to keep that kind of task going, he needs support. And my god, does she give it to him. Always patting him on the back and saying good job. Checking for any injuries, and if there are, she would fix them. Listening to anything he's talking about and giving her opinions on it. Giving him some tea and something to eat if he's up late. And just giving him any form of affirmation. He deserves it. He deserves all the support, the back rubs, the massages and the teasing, the tea and the naps, all of it. And Price is so grateful for it. If she wasn't there for him, no one would be.

Kyle. Gaz. Garrick. Goodness, that boy has put so many expectations on himself that NO ONE ELSE has put on him. It's weighing him down. Since he's the youngest and has less experience than everyone else, he thinks that he has to catch up to everyone else or be better than them in order for people to see him. See him being one of the members of Task Force 141. The best of the best, right? Like Sweetheart? How she carries herself through chaos, how she handles dire situations, how well she works with others, how physically, mentally, and emotionally strong she is? Can he be skilled like Sweetheart? Calm and collected like Ghost? Well-armed like Soap? He doesn't know. His insecurities are always getting the best of him, making him forget to brush his teeth. Or eat breakfast. Or even get out of bed. Is he even fit to be on this team? Sweetheart knocks on his door. Is he even worthy? She knocks again. He has so much to catch up on. She opens his door. How will he catch up to them? She sighs, walking towards his curled up figure on his bed. He's in their shadow. Maybe he should leave. Sweetheart comes into his view, shocking him. She has a slight concerning face, but more anger than anything. Angry that he hasn't been taking care of himself. Concerned on why he hasn't been taking care of himself. She grabs his hand and brings it to her lips, closing her eyes. His entire body feels warm. Awake. She breathes in and opens her eyes back up. She urges him to get up. Get up and take a shower. His brain says no, but his body is moving subconsciously. She waits outside the Men's Bath Unit until he's done. She waits for him, quite closely, when he's brushing his teeth; Sweetheart tells him not to forget to brush his molars. She waits for him when he dresses himself in clean clothes, still in the same room as him, just turned. She waits for him to finish eating a big breakfast, which he eats fully. All with silence. All with a neutral face. Yet her actions are firm. Caring. Helpful. She sits him down on his now cleaned bed, the help of Sweetheart, and they just... talk. Talk about what's been going on, talk about why he feels this way, and when. It helps. She's giving her opinions on what he can do to be better, but it's up to him to take them. She sighs, eyes studying him. 'I hope I'm not crossing any boundaries with you. But I couldn't sit aside and let you make yourself disappear. Especially when you're valued as a teammate and a friend.' She says. Gaz feels like crying. And he does. He hugs so tightly. Tight enough that she could feel his appreciation through his touch. He's thankful that she saw him. And she continues to see him.

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yesimwriting · 2 years

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First Impressions

First ever final girl fic universe seperate fic!! all that means is that even though this is canon in the final girl fic world, it is a separate fic that stands on its own!! you don't need to read any part of final girl first!!

also if you’d like to request a fic that’s set in the final girl world, feel free too, just know that as of now there won’t be anything directly couple-y between Y/n and the boys, just specify in the request!

this is not part 6 of final girl, it's a separate little sort of prequel??

Summary: How Billy and Stu's feelings for Y/n first developed

----

Billy doesn't know when the official switch first flipped. He isn't sure when you went from being a pretty face with a sense of humor that he found a little more objectively funny than most to someone that started taking over his thoughts.

Maybe it did start that first day, when Stu kept making jokes that forced him to keep bringing up the 'hot new girl that Tatum wouldn't shut up about.’ After about the third comment about you, Billy realized that it wasn't really a joke. It was a testing of waters, Stu's not-so-subtle attempt to gauge Billy's opinion of you.

It wasn't like Stu wanted permission to like you, the two of them understood how they felt about others, about girls. But you were different, a thought that made something unfamiliar flare up in them. Feelings too possessive to be categorized as simply want. And too protective to be considered just ownership.

Maybe it did start the day he met you. The first words he ever heard you say didn't quite fit you, but they intrigued him enough to look at you twice.

----

Today is dragging on. It's not even lunch yet and Billy's trying to calculate if he can get away with skipping the rest of his classes. Maybe he'd grab Stu at the start of their shared 5th period and just go. They could get high or drive around for awhile or just cut early to watch a movie. Billy doesn't really know what he wants, he just knows that he doesn't want to be here. Looking through his locker and waiting for Sid.

Being around her is all hot and cold. Some days playing the good boyfriend is barely painful, making it easy to even actually listen to some of her stories. But on days like today, he has to be aware of all of his thoughts and impulses in order to avoid blowing up their plan. The one year mark is coming up soon.

"You know that much planning can make you sound like a psychopath." That's Sid. Billy can't see her yet, but she's still rounding the corner and her voice sounds light. The irony of her saying something like that only steps away from Billy would almost be amusing on a normal day.

"Psychopaths get shit done." A voice that's completely unfamiliar. Normally, he'd brush it off. He doesn't bother keeping up with many people outside of their inner friend group. He could point out a few faces from over the years, but no one else ever really stands out to him.

Just as Sid and the stranger round the corner, the unknown voice speaks again. "Uh--that's not the kind of joke you can make in front of someone you just met. Swear I'm not planning a mass murder, I'm just extra about planning my class schedule."

Billy turns away from his open locker, deciding that since he's this bored and the comment was somewhat amusing before the stranger started backtracking, he's intrigued enough to really look at them. Plus, Sidney seems to like them, so it's probably a thing he should be putting effort into anyways.

You're not what he was expecting. A true new girl. The true new girl. The girl most people glanced at a little too long this morning because when does anyone ever move to Woodsboro? And when does anyone start school here about a month into the school year?

You're holding a stack of heavy textbooks that seem like over kill and blinking up at him with eyes he doesn't think he'll immediately forget about. It's different than noticing someone he finds attractive. This is more intrusive.

Billy doesn't like that he doesn't instinctually dismiss you as high school background static.

His eyes eventually snag on what you're wearing. A sweater that doesn't seem to fit you that he recognizes instantly. He nearly tore it off Stu this morning before school when they both had half a mind to skip.

Billy's jaw clenches and he isn't sure if the sweater has him feeling territorial over Stu or if it has him looking at you a little differently. Maybe the sweater was a little situation Stu created for Billy to notice. A tiny, well orchestrated way to rile Billy up to get back at him for this morning. Or maybe a way to tag you, to tell Billy that he should look at you twice. It doesn't matter, he now knows for a fact that you'll be coming up later, the second Stu and him get a second alone.

"I believe you," Sidney breathes easily, a half laugh in her voice as she breezes past him, likely walking you towards their group's usual lunch spot. He doesn't like that a part of him hopes that his assumption is right.

----

Mr. James has been ranting about who knows what for the last fifteen minutes, and Stu hasn’t heard a word of it. He hasn’t even had a fully clear thought since you stumbled in three minutes late, mumbling an apology as you beelined for the first available seat you could find. It happened to be right next to him. So close Stu can see the doodles in your notebook. They’re cute, scribbled stars and swirls, but disappointingly un-telling. He didn’t expect to see you so soon after Tatum befriended you in the parking lot, and he didn’t think you’d look like this.

“I like your shirt better like this.” You look up at him like a deer caught in front of a moving car. “The neon green brings out your eyes.”

You let out a breath that’s almost a laugh. “Oh, thanks, that was the goal.” You glance down at your shirt, crossing your arms in front of your chest self consciously. “This is a result of my annoying habit of not looking both ways before crossing the hall. Some guy ran into me and spilled his energy drink all over me, and he didn’t even stop to say sorry.”

“Wow,” Stu humors you because there’s just something about the irritated pout of your lips, “Rude.”

“I know!” You whisper-yell before cringing slightly at your volume.

“Exciting first day so far.”

Shifting in your seat again, you blink once, pen tapping against your notebook. “No kidding.”

“If I give you my sweater, does that count as me bailing you out twice today?”

Your lips part as you glare at him in a way that’s almost shy. Before you can tell him that pointing out a classroom doesn’t count as bailing you out, the two of you are interrupted.

“Mr. Macher, since you’re so interested in talking today, why don’t you tell us how many delegates attended the Constitutional Convention in 1787?”

Stu remains unfazed, turning away from you and towards the teacher. You begin writing something else down, and then, in a move so subtle and quick Stu almost thinks he imagined it, you tap the side of your foot against his. His eyes flit down towards the notebook that you’ve pushed to the edge of your desk.

“55,” Stu says confidently, reading the circled number off of your notebook.

Frowning, Mr. James continues, “That’s correct.” Pacing towards the bored, he asks another question, “And which state wasn’t represented?”

You’re quick to write out the next answer in order for Stu to read it out loud, “Rhode Island.”

Getting frustrated, Mr. James begins to press, “Where did they meet?”

“Philadelphia.”

At that, Mr. James lets out a sigh that’s more frustrated than it should be. Deciding that he can’t push this interrogation any further, Mr. James lets it go and moves on.

Stu smiles despite himself, finding it a little...cute that you outed yourself as a bit of a nerd. It’s something about who you are that you’ve finally revealed. He glances back at your notebook as you inch it even closer to him. He reads over the last thing you wrote: who’s bailing who out now?

You’re smug about it, too. It’s adorable, like being near a puppy. A puppy that Stu isn’t sure if he’d keep around or accidentally squeeze just a little too hard. He just met you, but something about your demeanor is just so innocent and you seem so soft. It’s distracting and oddly riling and he hasn’t quite made up his mind if he’s going to hold it against you or not.

God, if Tatum decides to really befriend you, this could be interesting. And if Billy were to meet you? Stu’s convinced that he’ll pick up on the fact that you’re something else just as fast. That realization leads to a train of thought that has him struggling to focus on acting normal.

----

Stu knows two things. The first is that something is definitely on Billy’s mind, and the second is that Billy can tell that Stu’s focus is elsewhere. Stu also knows that right now is a terrible time to get caught up in some girl just because he can’t stop thinking about your eyes and the cute little turn of your lips that was almost a smile.

And seeing you in his sweater for the rest of the day just did something to him.

Okay, technically that’s more than two things.

“You wanna order takeout?” The question comes out perfectly casual in a way that Stu knows Billy will interpret as suspicious. “We can save the movie you rented for when the food gets here.”

Billy nods once, absentmindedly, “Sure.” His fingers press into the cushion of the couch, but that doesn’t do anything to relieve his tension. Billy moves his hand, squeezing the back of his turned over arm and letting his nails dig into the soft skin of his inner wrist. The pinching pain is meant to snap him out of it. “What do you think of the girl Tatum was all over today?”

The question nearly sends Stu spiraling. It’s rare for Stu to be unsure on what kind of reaction someone’s looking for, but he’s out of practice with Billy. He can’t remember the last time he cared about monitoring his reactions in front of Billy. “What about her?”

“Do you think Tatum will keep her around enough for her to be a factor?”

Oh. It’s about the plan. Of course it is. Stu thinks of your face, your eyes, the almost smile. It makes his blood rush in a specific way, and he’s not sure if he’d rather see you tremble out of fear or arousal. Maybe there’d be time for both.

“Don’t know. Tatum thought she was nice, didn’t shut up about her, but she’s a little book-y, y’know?” Stu shifts slightly, just enough to seem like he’s slumping further into the couch. “She’s probably too naive to be a factor either way.”

Billy half shrugs. “Not sure, she’s reading Carrie.”

Stu almost points out that Billy isn’t usually the type to note details like that about people he doesn’t know or care about. “Think she likes scary movies?”

“There’s an easy way to find out,” Billy mumbles, only somewhat serious. He then drops his gaze towards his lap, nails digging just a little harder into his skin than before. “She doesn’t seem like the victim type. You know what she reminded me of with her too-nice-for-her-own-good, girl next door thing?”

Already piecing together what Billy’s getting at, Stu decides to play along. “What?”

At that, Billy throws him a somewhat scolding look. It’s a gentle chiding for trying to get away with bullshitting him. “A final girl.” With a slight sigh, Billy decides that he’s ready to bring up his real point, “You definitely thought so.”

The nail in the coffin hits Stu harder than he thought it would. Billy’s called him out on a lot over the years, but Stu’s never come this close to feeling embarrassed. He doesn’t get this difference, he doesn’t get why he didn’t just say something at the beginning. The two of them talk about girls they find hot all the time. Why are you the exception that makes him feel kind of awkward?

“What?”

Billy rolls his eyes before pointedly glaring at Stu in a way that can only be described as bitchy. “You think I can’t tell when you like a girl?”

The word like settles uncomfortably in Stu’s chest. “Jealous?” It’s a sad attempt at deflecting. “Like you didn’t think she was cute with the way you jumped in to save her just as I was getting her a little worked up.”

“You were making fun of someone and trying to make her uncomfortable.”

“Since when does that matter?”

Billy pauses, thinking through his potential responses. “I didn’t give her my sweater.” It’s a flat comment, barely more than an observation. “I wasn’t the one looking at her like I couldn’t decide if I wanted to pin her against the wall or hold her there with a knife.” Stu’s eyes darken slightly as his posture stiffens and Billy struggles to not look smug openly. “Surprised you didn’t come in here trying to get me to jerk you off to the thought of her all bloody and begging you to let her live. I bet you’ve been thinking about that since you saw he in the parking lot this morning.”

Stu finds it in himself to keep it together enough to say, “You’re there too. She’s crying and looks over at you with those wide eyes like she needs you.”

The comment serves as a ceasefire of sorts. A reminder that neither of them has a true upper hand when it comes to this kind of thing.

----

Maybe the change came the first time Billy was completely alone with you. The hall was empty, school had ended long enough for most club meetings to have started. Most of the people that linger after school have moved to the parking lot or behind the bleachers.

Billy recognizes the back of your head instantly. You’re starting to become more and more noticeable. It’s a new development, something he still isn’t sure how he feels about. It’s good to be aware, but it’s more than that. A small part of him seems to jump whenever he realizes you’re in the same room. It’s ridiculous. If Stu knew about the pinch of warmth that rises in him whenever he realizes that you’re around, he’d never hear the end of it.

He almost walks away, leaving you there as you groan in frustration at your locker. “You okay?”

You look up, eyes rounder than usual. You’re always a little fidgety, but today, you’re jumpier than ever. Stu threw his arm around your shoulders during lunch after making a joke that made you both seem like an old, married couple. It’s not rare for Stu to find an excuse to touch you, and you react to it a lot more casually than you used to. But today, you almost flinched. Something’s going on, maybe it has something to do with your mom’s boyfriend.

You called Sid up the other night late, asking her if you could sleep over because your mom was out and you didn’t want to be alone with him. Maybe your mom isn’t back yet and the thought of going back to that environment has you on edge. Billy gets that feeling.

“I think this locker has a personal vendetta against me.”

He nods, trying not to focus on anything particular about you. Still, though, there’s something a little endearing about your dramatics. “A vendetta? Intense.”

You pull on the lock again, trying to balance a bunch of binders and books in one arm. “Extremely.”

With the way you’re struggling, it’s only a matter of time before everything collapses. “Here.” Billy pushes the lock in, holding it in position for a second before pulling it down. “It wasn’t still locked, just jammed. The lockers here do that.”

You let out a relieved sigh. “You’re my hero.” It’s casual praise, a comment you’ll likely never think about again, but it leaves that strange warmth flaring through him.

“Do you need any help?”

“I’ve got it.” The shake of your head is polite, but the fact that you’re clearly struggling to keep your hold on everything is apparent. You don’t always accept help easily. Suppressing an eye roll, Billy takes the top two books from your stack. You give him a look before admitting defeat. “Thank you.”

You finish putting away the items in your arms before taking the textbooks back from Billy and making them fit into what’s left of the space. You then move to look through your backpack, taking out different colored sets of sticky notes and highlighters. It’s not really noteworthy until you start taking different sticky notes and highlighters out of your locker and putting them into your backpack.

“Didn’t you just put those--”

“Those were the note color combos for history, science, and english. These are the note color combos for my journalism class and math, plus my additional sticky notes for english reading that’s a book and not a textbook. I also like to use different highlighters for different levels of--” Billy’s watching you carefully as you cut yourself off. “I’m way more normal than this makes me look, I swear.”

It’s that half thought out defense that has Billy practically frozen in place. There’s just something so you about the way you cut yourself off, and Billy’s practically lost in it. You’re an open book when it comes to feelings, but he always finds himself trying to guess what you’re going to say before you actually say it.

Billy fights against a smile. “I don’t believe it.” Your mouth opens in a mock gasp. “Do you have a ride home?”

You zip your backpack shut. “I was gonna walk.”

He’s yet to see you drive and he’s starting to think you don’t have a car. It’s an unseasonably chilly day and you’re wearing something short with no jacket. Billy also doesn’t love the idea of you walking alone while looking like that. Too pretty, too noticeable, and there are some fucked up people out there.

In an impulsive move, Billy says, “I can take you.” The offer surprises you, you clearly weren’t expecting that from him. Billy can’t blame you for your confusion. It’s not that he’s cold towards you, he just hasn’t let himself get too close to you.

You’re a breath of fresh air to not just him. With the way everyone’s always all over you, Billy has let himself step to the sidelines a little. At least, that’s what he tells himself, but if he’s being completely honest, his thoughts around you are flighty and unsure. Sometimes if he thinks about it too hard it makes him feel like he’s a kid desperate for his mom to beam at him to make everything go away.

It’s twisting and weird and he’s not sure if it makes him want you closer to him or if it makes him want to just give in and force a knife through you just so that voice in the back of his head will stop. You can’t exactly reject him if he buries a knife into you first. But he’s been trying a little more recently.

It’s only been a short time and you’ve already gotten so comfortable with Stu and his brazenness. It’s starting to make Billy a little more relaxed. Enough to crack a smile every once in awhile and partner with you for a project in English class.

“Oh,” you hum after a second, “Thank you.” You take your time zipping your backpack up to avoid needing to look at him. “But you don’t have to do that. I’d hate to put you out.”

Billy knows that it’s likely you trying not to be an inconvenience. You never do accept help the first time it’s offered. You don’t know what you need. Despite Billy’s awareness, the slight rejection stings. That warmth you make him feel twists in his stomach in a way that burns.

“It wouldn’t be putting me out.” He pauses, trying to think through what he can say to get you to agree without making his offer sound too significant. “It’s cold, I can’t let you freeze.”

You shut your locker, letting yourself consider his offer. It was the right thing to remind you of. Even though it’s not exactly freezing here, it’s hotter in Texas and you’re not used to September feeling all that different than July. “One condition?”

“I’m doing you a favor.”

Playfully, you roll your eyes dramatically. Billy smiles at the gesture despite himself. “Don’t go around telling people I’m like some kind of weird sticky note freak?”

“Weird sticky note freak?” Billy repeats the words like he’s seriously weighing the pros and cons of your request. “Nope. Sorry. Have to tell everyone.”

The tension of uncertainty behind your stance disappears and the way you’re looking at him changes entirely. His joke surprised you in a good way. It’s a flash of a side of an easier going side of him. “Everyone, huh?” You tilt your head slightly as you consider what to say. “Wish I knew something embarrassing about you to...ensure your silence.”

He almost laughs. “Ensure my silence? You’d blackmail me?”

Shrugging comfortably, you reply, “I’d do what needs to be done.”

Billy takes a step forward, angling himself so that there’s a subtle implication that you’re trapped between him and your locker. You seem to pick up on it subconsciously, because the pure humor leaves your eyes. “Didn’t think you could be so mean.”

You blink, a tiny bit of shyness making itself apparent. Your proximity to each other is just as significant to you as it is to him. Billy can tell by the way you struggle to hold his gaze. The fact that the nerves are mutual makes Billy feel a little easier, a little warm in a good way.

“I’m multifaceted.” It’s practically a squeak and it sends a thrill straight through Billy.

He’s never been this close to you and yet it still feels so far. The urge to do something with his hands, to touch you just to know what the warmth of your skin would feel like beneath his fingertips, hits him hard and fast. Billy straightens in an attempt to break the spell.

It’s not enough, so he starts walking forward. “Come on before I see you do something really embarrassing like color code tabs in your binder.”

You turn quickly, trying to match his long, even strides. “That’s actually--” Silencing yourself with a slight huff, you glare at him. “And...that was a joke. You’re making fun of me.”

Instead of answering the question, Billy decides to push just a little more. “You know this isn’t exactly a sticky note level secret, but sometimes I color coordinate my pens based on each class I’m in. The ink matches my folders.”

“Haha,” you breathe sarcastically, heat rising to your face. “You have a really underrated sense of humor.”

----

Now that you’re here, so casually taking up space somewhere that’s just his, Billy doesn’t want you to go. Your uncertainty melted away after the first two minutes and you’ve been casually chatting away ever since.

You tried making fun of his music, but ultimately had to admit your disappointment that Billy’s taste isn’t worse. He apologized and promised that next time he drove you somewhere, he’d make sure to have nothing but the cheesiest pop top 20 available, that way you could bully him to your heart’s content. He also made sure to tell you that if you really want to make fun of someone for their choice of music, you should ask Stu to show you his CD collection.

After saying that, Billy watched your reaction carefully through the rearview mirror. You seemed to like the promise of future car rides.

You’re tapping your fingers against your knee casually, eyes focused on the window. The two of you are getting close to your place now, and something about your energy is beginning to shift downwards. You don’t want to go home.

Screw it, you don’t want to be home and after Stu’s stuffy energy today, Billy realizes that both of you could use a bit of a pick me up.

"Today’s Thursday, right?”

Turning your attention back towards him, your hand stills on your lap. “Yeah, why?”

“I forgot I told Stu I’d be at his place by 3:30 today. We were supposed to go get something to eat.” It’s a partial lie. It was an assumed thing that Billy would make his way over to Stu’s at some point, especially since it’s been a little while since they both had a free day. Between school and their girlfriends, it just hasn’t worked out. But they never indicated a time and Billy isn’t actually late. “We’re about to pass Stu’s house.”

Billy pauses, pretending that this idea just came to him. “Want to come with us? I can drive you home after and that way Stu won’t get into his whole thing when I’m late.”

You’re intrigued by the offer, he can tell by the way you’re cautiously studying him from the corner of your vision. “I don’t need to crash your thing.”

“You’re not crashing.” You don’t look convinced. “You’re our friend.”

At that, your demeanor seems to soften. The word friend leaves you beaming and that feeling flickers in Billy’s chest again.

“You’re sure Stu won’t mind?” You’re watching him freely now, eyes cautious. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“As long as you don’t bring out the sticky notes and try to color coordinate anything.”

Fighting down a laugh, you roll your eyes. “Sounds tough, but I think I can manage.”

----

Stu’s laying against his couch, Texas Chainsaw Massacre playing on the living room television. He’s only half paying attention, strangely apathetic.

The call had come this morning, right before he left for school. His parents were rescheduling their return, claiming that business was just too good for them to fly home already. Apparently someone offered his dad an in on some deal, and now they’re in negotiations for that. Stu barely believed them, considering that the business trip was in Vegas, and his mom has a pension for shopping in large cities.

He didn’t call them out for it. He never does. Lie or truth, it doesn’t make a difference why they’re not coming back. The point is they’re just not.

When Stu was younger, he used to complain a little, but that was quickly nipped in the bud by his father reminding him that he’s a man. He shouldn’t really need anything from his parents except assurance that his needs would be taken care of, and that’s definitely a problem they’ve never had. A large and safe roof over his head and enough pocket money to keep himself fed and entertained. What else could a teenage boy want?

Stu was half expecting some kind of call. It had been a little over a week with no communication and they always announce their return home a few days in advance. They never tell Stu about their delays until the day before they’re supposed to come back.

He doesn’t know why he’s thinking about this or why it’s getting to him a little more today than usual. Maybe it has to do with the fact that his parents are coming close to beating their record for longest time traveling without so much as a weekend pit stop at home to change out their luggage. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s barely gotten any time with Billy this week. It doesn’t matter. The fact that he’s phased at all is stupid.

A knocking at his door snaps him out of his train of thoughts. Weird. A spike of hope strikes him with no warning. It could be Billy, but Billy never knocks. He walks in and doesn’t even bother to greet Stu verbally before sitting down next to him. It could be Tay, but he can’t remember making any plans with her or the last time she spontaneously popped by his place without at least calling first.

Stu opens the front door casually, because this is Woodsboro, and an unexpected knock is no reason for concern. His eyes immediately land on Billy, who’s standing there like there’s nothing weird about him knocking.

“You kn--” He cuts himself off after noticing that Billy’s not alone. Excitement pulses through him at the realization that it’s you. Stu has no idea how Billy pulled this off, but it’s a good surprise. A good enough surprise to get him to shake off the weird way he’s feeling. “Look who wandered onto my doorstep.”

Ignoring the consuming way he’s looking at you, you greet him normally. “Hi to you too.”

“Picked her up,” Billy jumps in, catching Stu up on his innocent enough lie as casually as possible, “She’s a stray, so she’s coming with us to grab something to eat.”

That paired with the subtle look Billy sends him is enough for Stu to piece together enough of the story to go along with it. “You’re late, but since you brought me a gift, I’ll let it go.”

You practically laugh at that. “Dramatic.”

Stu turns towards you, grinning at the excuse to grab you. He tugs on your arm, ignoring your protests as he pushes you against the doorframe. The sudden shift in mood isn’t something you’re expecting, but Stu can’t help it. Especially when he knows that he has your full attention. He can take seeming pushy if it means he’s the only thing you’re focusing on.

“Stu.” It’s too surprised and amused to be scolding.

His smile widens at the way you’re looking at him. “Take it back.”

You bite back a grin, watching him carefully. There’s an edge to his usual brand of chaos, but it’s not unnerving. If anything, a part of you feels the need to prove him wrong. “No.”

It’s not so much the blatant defiance as it is that smug look behind your eyes that sets Stu off. His hold on you tightens, and the way he tilts his head leaves a feeling you don’t understand pulsing through you. It leaves your face warm.

“No?” You blink at the question, chin sticking out just slightly in an attempt to hold your ground. “Brat.”

Still not giving him the satisfaction of your panic, you keep your voice steady as you react, “Dra-ma-tic.”

Billy straightens, watching the exchange cautiously. He understands that look behind Stu’s eyes better than Stu does. You’re teetering on the edge of either Stu forgetting that this is a delicate situation and crossing a line or something even more dangerous. But this is the most like himself Stu’s been all day and you’re smiling. It’s a moment that’s so domestic Billy’s not sure how he hadn’t managed to get you here sooner.

Releasing one of your arms, Stu places a hand on your side. Billy studies the contact carefully before Stu starts to move. His fingers move quickly, up and down your side as you laugh and squirm. It’s cute and easy going, but considering Stu’s mood today, Billy isn’t sure how long it’ll stay that way.

“What were you saying?”

“That--” You cut yourself off with a loud laugh that’s almost a gasp as Stu’s hand brushes against your side. “That you’re the--the most even temper-tempered, understa--understated person I’ve ever met.”

Stu pauses, hands squeezing your hips once before releasing you, but he makes no move to put any distance between you. “I’d love to believe you, babe, but you don’t really seem sorry.”

That does frazzle you enough to get your eyes to widen. You laugh or maybe even yelp as Stu’s hands move to grab you again. You turn quickly, nearly stumbling as you try to dodge him.

Stu could probably grab you and force you back into place easily, but he lets you have your small victory. It’s more fun with a little bit of a chase, anyways.

Billy places a hand on your shoulder, keeping you steady as you fight against a nervous giggle. “Help.”

He’s never had such a good excuse to pull you towards him. Maybe Billy should have been the voice of reason. After all, this is your first time all doing something after school and scaring you off really is a possibility. But he can’t help himself. In one smooth movement, Billy turns you and presses your back into his chest. “You know in the movies nothing gets you killed faster than begging for help.”

You’re barely given a second to register his words because Stu’s on you in a second, tickling you before you can read too much into the lowness of Billy’s voice. He rests his chin against your back, briefly hiding his face into your neck as you squirm.

Billy looks up, meeting Stu’s gaze as you fondly tell them that they’re, “Literally the worst,” in a voice that’s so sweet they’re surprised they hold it together.

It’s in that moment, that silent exchange, that they both come to a mutual decision. You’re theirs now, and even though you don’t know it yet, nothing’s going to change that.

#scream #Scream 1996 #scream imagine #scream x reader #ghostface #ghostface x reader #Poly! Ghostface x Reader #poly!ghostface #poly!ghostface x reader #Stu Macher #stu macher x reader #Billy Loomis #billy loomis x reader #final girl fic

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frozenjokes · 2 months

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Toys Like Tape Measures (And A Brand New Splint!)

tw for drugging, though only in the medical sense. however, because of the language barrier, Mumbo doesn’t understand what’s happening really, so if that makes you uncomfortable I would skip

“Alright, so here’s the deal,” Mumbo heard Scar before he even reached the clearing, and he couldn’t be more excited. Scar was back, (and Grian was there too) he was finally back after being gone all week! “Today we’re going to fix that splint- ope- don’t make that face at me yet, let me explain, let me explain. I promise it will be 100% safe.”

“So many things- so many things, Scar, but you are not a doctor, much less a veterinarian- how do you even think this is going to work? Mumbo won’t even let us touch him, what makes you think anything about this will be safe?”

“I’ve been doing a lot of research, Grian! I’ve talked to every large animal vet I know, and a few fish people as well! This big ol’ bag on my back you’ve been nagging me about has everything we’ll need! Well, except the fish. You’re going to have to catch a few of those.”

“Scar! Fishing in this spot isn’t even very good and you know it, if you needed fish, why wouldn’t you bring any.”

“Forgot.”

There was a small silence before the two humans burst into the clearing, climbing through the path they’d ended up making through the brush by walking through so many times. Mumbo surfaced to greet them, though they were still preoccupied with each other.

“Of course,” Grian groaned, sighing as he threw down his bag, “Guess I’ll get to it then.”

“That’s the spirit!” Scar beamed, patting the other human hard on the back, who made a soft oof sound before scuttling away, moving to hide its face from Scar as it turned a reddish color. Odd. Usually Grian would yell at Scar for doing something like that, rightfully so (Mumbo still didn’t understand why Scar would randomly hit his friend), but instead Grian was far more meek. Had something happened? Maybe since Scar was hurt, Grian was taking a more passive role than normal. Mermaids were gentler with sick friends as well, and Mumbo knew quite well he could get away with more when he was unwell.

But it was good to see Scar looking healthy. His shoulder was still bandaged, visible under his shirt, but he couldn’t be feeling too badly given his bright demeanor, and his movement didn’t seem to be impaired at all. Thank goodness.

If it was even possible, Scar brightened further when he spotted Mumbo, happily throwing off unnecessary clothes before hopping right into the water, showing absolutely zero signs of fear. Oh, that was a weight off Mumbo’s back; he didn’t even realize how worried he was about Scar being afraid of him until now, until Scar very clearly wasn’t. Good, good..

Mumbo met Scar in the shallows, deep enough that he could keep his tail from dragging on the sand, but shallow enough where he could navigate with his hands; he was in near constant pain even with a week to recover, and while slow, pulling himself along the bottom with his hands caused the least agony on his tail. His splint was sufficiently broken now, only getting more uncomfortable with every passing day. At this point, Mumbo was just waiting for it to fall off; trying to figure out how it was attached was far too painful, though he had tried briefly a couple of times (with little success).

“Hello, Mumbo!” Scar greeted him, “I’ve got something you’re going to like. I’m pretty sure you like human stuff, so you’ll get a kick out of this.” Scar held up a small silver object, round, but not quite circular. Mumbo moved to get a closer look, though he couldn’t lift himself very far out of the water, so Scar crouched down to get it closer. “Tape measure.”

Mumbo squinted. “What.”

“Tape measure.” Huh. Weird word. Usually human words weren’t that long, though, maybe Mumbo had only learned the shorter ones. Was this a human tool? Mumbo attempted to snatch it, but Scar was faster, jumping back with a surprised look on his face. On his perch, Grian laughed.

“I told you! I told you he’d try to take that, and you won’t be getting it back.”

“Well he can have it if he wants, but not before I’m done!” Scar huffed, then turned back to Mumbo, speaking sternly, “No.” Mumbo stared, unamused. He could have guessed Scar didn’t want him to have its human tool, that didn’t change the fact that he was going to take it.

“Scar,” he tried, reaching out a hand a little slower. Maybe it wouldn’t see? ‘Your human object. Give me.’ he continued in a whistle due to the lack of human words, but Scar only huffed, an incredulous smile across its face.

“No!” Scar repeated a tad more forcefully, but Mumbo could see the smile on his face, he knew well enough he could keep trying. Mumbo moved a little forward, hoping to get within reach, but Scar stepped back, then back again, rolling his eyes, “You’re going to make measuring you really difficult, Mumbo.”

“Yeah,” Grian said from across the way, a small laugh in his tone, “I’d say I’ve got plenty of time to catch something.”

“You will, but this is not the reason!” Scar yelled back, pointing an accusatory finger, but the smile never left Scar’s face, and soon his focus was squarely back on Mumbo (who definitely hadn’t tried to snatch at the device while it was distracted).

The tool made a soft whirring sound as Scar pulled on one end, a flat yellow line appearing from inside the device, then snapping back when Scar let go. Whoa. What was that? What was the purpose? Scar moved a little bit closer, pulling the yellow line further this time, but when Mumbo managed to touch it, the line snapped back into the silver device with a sharp crack. Huh. Was it alive? Maybe it was shy? It looked a little bit like a snail..

“What.” Mumbo said, hoping for more information, but Scar only put his hands on his hips, making a show of his annoyance.

“I can’t show you if you keep trying to take it from me!” Nonsense. Guess Mumbo would just have to take it to figure it out for himself.

The next thirty minutes was an odd dance of Scar struggling to keep his distance while also trying to line up the tape measure with Mumbo’s body, and Mumbo would be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying the game. The tape measure hurt if it snapped back on Mumbo’s hand, but if anything, that only made the game more exciting. Even with the limited use of his tail, he found himself splashing far more than usual, a certain recklessness brought about only by play. He didn’t even want the tape measure anymore (lie), he just wanted to keep up the game. Scar did not like the game as much, less and less as more time passed, but Grian seemed amused at least, occasionally looking over to laugh when Scar stumbled or outright fell over.

“I could use a little help here if you don’t mind!” Scar called, and Grian laughed again, the sound coming out more like a cackle.

“I thought you had it handled? You kept insisting you were fine, what changed?”

“He just won’t stop moving! Listen, I’ve measured plenty of animals, but they don’t usually have hands! He’s being impossible- he knows I’m not trying to hurt him and he knows I need him to stay still and he’s just not listening! On purpose! This was supposed to be easy!”

“He looks like he’s having fun, I wouldn’t want to rain on his parade.”

“Grian! Help me!” Scar cut himself off with a yelp as Mumbo lunged for the tape measure, but he didn’t get far with his limited mobility, so Scar stepped easily out of reach. He was lucky Mumbo couldn’t use his tail, lucky. With another short laugh, Grian got up from where he was fishing, making his way gingerly off the rocks and giggling as he went before stepping into the water as well. Ah, so another challenger joins the fray!

Though, with Grian holding one side of the yellow line, Mumbo couldn’t quite grab at it anymore, the whole thing bending and snapping like it might break in two if Mumbo wasn’t careful. And that wouldn’t do, no no, how could he figure out its purpose if it was broken?

Instead, he stilled so he could watch instead- wow the line went out so far! How much could fit in there? How far could it go? Mumbo moved to follow the humans’ movement, but they seemed to want to pull the line the length of Mumbo’s tail, chirping nonsense to each other the entire time. At least Scar looked excited; it was always nice when Scar was happy, nice enough that Mumbo didn’t mind all that much that their game was effectively over. Mumbo didn’t love how close they were getting, but a small flash of his teeth was enough to get Grian’s attention, who communicated to Scar in Mumbo’s stead.

It wasn’t very long before the two of them were satisfied though, Grian easing the yellow line back into the tape measure. Mumbo took his chance, lunging as quickly as his impaired mobility would allow, but Scar surprised him by turning around instead of jumping away like normal. While Mumbo was scrambling to keep himself from running face first into Scar’s legs, the human tossed him the tape measure, the thing plopping heavily into the water. Mumbo gaped for a moment before grabbing it, but when he resurfaced, Scar was walking toward the shore, chatting away with Grian like the tape measure didn’t mean anything at all. Well.. okay.

No matter! Mumbo had a new toy, and first he wanted to know just how long this yellow line was. The answer was very long. Mumbo lodged one end under a rock and swam as far as the line would allow, and while he was quite impressed with the length, he was even more excited when he let go of the metal base, the whole thing shooting back in the other direction. Yes! Yes! Mumbo did the same thing at least seven more times before getting a little bored, then experimented with the tape measure above the water, where it snapped back much faster. The height of his fun was setting the end of the yellow line under a rock on the surface, bringing metal end to the other side of the cove, then letting go and watching the thing skirt across the water, splashing all the way. He was relatively sure he made some sort of trill or other noise in his excitement, as Scar and Grian’s laughing caught his attention. Mumbo cringed a little, suddenly very aware of their eyes on him, but his embarrassment was short lived, outweighed by the joy of funny human trinket.

Mumbo would have spent the rest of the day playing with the tape measure, but something else caught his eye. Scar was working on something- no, he was making something. Mumbo had never seen a human make something before- not in the way Mumbo liked to do! Scar’s creative process looked very similar as well, which is to say, all the materials he brought were strewn all over the grass, wildly unorganized as he fiddled with different parts. Most of his materials were long metal rods, but there were also some leather looking pieces, and what looked like parts of white tubing as well. What was he up to?

Mumbo shimmied as close to the shore as his tail would allow, hoping to grab Scar’s attention. “What. What. What,” he said in human, hoping the extra emphasis would translate through the repeated words.

Scar looked up, clearly amused, but seemed to struggle with explaining, starting and stopping speaking several times before settling with, “For you.” Not very helpful, and Scar knew it, making a couple of vague gestures at Mumbo before giving up and going back to his project. Well.. that was fine. Mumbo would just have to watch.

Scar was mostly focused on the leather piece, positioning it in a circular way and winding the metal through to create a cage-looking structure. The leather was adjustable too, Scar fiddling with a buckle on the front to make the entire thing wider or smaller. Mumbo was particularly fascinated by the white pieces though, much flatter than the rods, which Scar only weaved through one side. Why? He tried to ask again what the human was doing, but was only offered the same non-answer.

“Oh!” Grian made a surprised noise from his place on the rocks, and Mumbo saw his line tighten. If only he was fast enough to snag whatever was on it off the hook, but alas, Grian was already reeling in a decent sized fish. Scar hopped to his feet and Grian let out a celebratory noise of his own; it was so cute how humans got so excited about every catch. Though, in all fairness, Mumbo would have been quite chuffed catching a fish that size, especially this hungry. Maybe if humans really didn’t eat the fish they caught, they’d be open to sharing.

Grian scooped the fish off the line with a net, maneuvering the hook out of its mouth before walking it back toward the shore to Scar, who cheered all the while.

“Right,” Grian said as he hit the sand, “You want to give this to him? I’m assuming you’re going to drug him or something.”

“That’s the plan. I was considering a tranquilizer, but I don’t want to make this experience traumatic or anything, and hauling a big ol’ rifle out here might put a damper on some of the trust we’ve established. Hopefully this way he’ll just be real relaxed, maybe even take a nice little nap.”

“You’re not trying to put him to sleep? What are you giving him?”

“Not necessarily, but I doubt he’ll be able to stay awake. Trust me when I say he won’t be in pain, definitely not. And I brought a cone, too, just in case he freaks. I came prepared, Grian, prepared I tell you. I’m no large animal vet, but you could say I’ve been quite involved in many a procedure.”

“Scar, what are you giving him?”

“Like.” Scar paused, tapping the smile on his lips, “A lot of morphine.”

“Morphine?”

“Works on fish. Mumbo’s big, he can handle it, and anyway, it’s the safest option for everyone involved. Are you worried about our friend, Grian?”

“I’m not- how did you even get morphine, Scar?”

“Scar’s not taking any more questions at this time, please call back later. In the meantime, hand me that fish so we can get this show on the road. I’ll stay with him as long as he needs me, but I’m not expecting anything to go wrong here. Still, the sooner we start, the better.” Scar got to his feet, taking the fish net from a gaping Grian and heading back to his bag. Mumbo couldn’t quite see what he was doing, but Grian followed quickly after, fretting the entire time. What, was something wrong with the fish? Scar didn’t seem to think so.

Maybe Grian hadn’t wanted Scar to give Mumbo his catch, but Scar did regardless. Mumbo was more than happy to accept the gift, only throwing Grian one mildly guilty look before devouring the whole thing. He didn’t feel very bad, not really; clearly the humans ate well enough, and given he was having a hard time hunting right now, this seemed fair.

Eating only served to brighten his mood, and with the slight weight off his chest, watching Scar continue working on his human device was all the more fun. Grian went back to fishing on his rock, but he was acting more anxious than normal, stealing glances toward Scar and Mumbo just about every time he cast his line. Though, it didn’t take very long for Mumbo to stop caring, far more intrigued by whatever Scar was up to. It was crazy how much better he was feeling; usually the joy of eating didn’t carry so far after a meal, but when Mumbo was this hungry..

And then it hit him; he wasn’t in pain. The lightness he was feeling was from the lack of hurting- oh that couldn’t be good. What kind of fish was that? He hadn’t even looked! Please say he hadn’t accidentally poisoned himself… Mumbo didn’t feel nauseous though. And if he’d poisoned himself, he imagined he’d be feeling a lot sicker. And he had so much energy! Anyone with this much energy wouldn’t be poisoned, that would be ridiculous! He should do something- go somewhere- hunt- he could do anything! … Nevermind.

Not in pain, no, but tired, goodness, maybe he was dying. Probably not. But maybe. Honestly, he didn’t care all that much. Scar was looking at him an awful lot now, though Mumbo wished he would focus on his invention instead so Mumbo could figure out what it was before he died. Hm.. It kind of looked a little bit like his splint, didn’t it?

…

The gentle touch of skin on scales. A presence around his neck, tight, mildly uncomfortable, but not enough for Mumbo to want to do anything about it. A crack, loud enough to frighten him, to open his eyes, but there was no pain, so it must not have been bone. Something was draped over his eyes, dark like home. It was nice. A couple of clicks told him of Forces, big and near and moving; he should probably swim away, but that’d be quite a bit of effort, wouldn’t it. Maybe another time.

His fins rose and fell with the presence and absence of touch. Not unpleasant. Not until they tried to lift him.

Pain like thorns lit his blood, everywhere, pain, pain- Some sort of noise escaped his throat, something animal, and he moved without coordination- it hurt, everything hurt now. Distantly he heard them, humans, why were humans here? Talking, they were talking nothing, repeating the same words again and again, “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay.” Couldn’t they see he was in pain? Why weren’t they helping?

Too much time passed before his attackers released him, but wasn’t sitting in the water the same as before. It was awkward, unpleasant honestly, but he stopped struggling quickly. Too painful to move. Too much effort.

He wanted to curl up. Somewhere dark, somewhere enclosed and safe. Something hard stopped his movement. Guess that was that.

But maybe that was fine.

Whatever had been there was gone now. Nothing else was trying to hurt him. That was good. That was enough.

…

The humans were talking. They were loud, Mumbo could hear them, though his face burned just slightly, a dry feeling. Was he above the water? It didn’t much concern him.

“He’s still asleep, Scar.”

“That’s fine. Normal, even. He’s going to be fine; if he was going to have any bad reactions, I’m pretty sure we would have known by now. I’ve been keeping an eye on his breathing, and it’s stayed consistent this whole time. He’s okay.”

“You said four hours. It’s been five.”

“Yeah, for a human on a human dose. I also told you I don’t know exactly how it’ll work on a mermaid. I doubt anyone knows. I gave him quite a bit more than a human dose anyway, and I’m pretty sure he needed it. He was freaking out when we were trying to get the splint on.”

“I just don’t like the fact that we drugged him without being sure how he’d react.”

“I don’t know what else you wanted me to do, Grian. He was not going to let us touch him, and I don’t think there’s any world in which we could have explained what we were trying to accomplish. Tail injuries could be fatal for mermaids, we don’t know. How’s he supposed to eat if he can’t swim? It’s not like we can weigh him. This was the safest option.”

“You really think we couldn’t have explained it to him? He’s smart, Scar, he’s really observant.”

“I don’t know, I think there’s a chance. But what would happen if he got scared? Even a human might’ve panicked, even if they knew every detail about what we were doing. And you know how strong he is- I’ve still got bruises on my arms from where he grabbed me. He could have hurt himself or us completely by accident.”

A long silence. “I know.”

A longer silence.

“So when’d you change your tune?”

“What?”

“About Mumbo. Nearly every day two weeks ago you made sure to remind me how you were totally going to kill him and sell all his parts or whatever, but I haven’t heard a peep from you since Monday. Did you come out here without me and have some sorta spiritual experience or what?”

“I- no. Of course not. I’m still planning on doing that, I just decided I’d spare your feelings and stop talking about it.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes! And anyway, with you paying me egregious prices for my fish, I’m not exactly hurting for money right now. So it’s fine. I’m not in any rush.”

“That’s good to know.”

“Stop- stop talking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you don’t believe me.”

“Well, Grian, that’s going to be a problem because you’re right, I don’t believe you.”

“I- how dare you! I am going to do it! I could do it right now even, but I won’t, and not because I don’t want to, but it wouldn’t be fair, not while he’s all drugged up.”

“I see.”

“Stop it!”

“I believe you, I believe you.”

“No you don’t!”

“Shhh,” Scar said, his voice dropping, “No fighting,” he trailed off, and the silence was charged with something new, something Mumbo picked up on even in his half-asleep state.

“No fighting,” Grian repeated softly, “He wouldn’t like that.”

“Mm,” Scar acknowledged him quietly, but spoke no more words, and neither did Grian. That, or Mumbo had just fallen asleep again. Possible, all things considered. That was okay.

#hermitcraft #hermitcraft fic #gtws #goodtimeswithscar #grian #mumbo jumbo #scarian #hermitshipping #it’s there.#mumbomaid au #hermitfic

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elizabethemerald · 5 months

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Servitor of a Death God

AO3

Kara Zor-El crashed into the street, shattering the concrete under her. She pushed herself shakily up for a moment before she collapsed again. She could feel every broken rib as a separate screaming pain. Blood bubbled and foamed at her lips as she forced her eyes to open. Kon slammed down only a few feet from her, a pained groan his only sound.

Doomsday had once again come to Metropolis.

Kal was fighting him as well as he was able and the rest of the available Justice League was doing everything they could to keep this from becoming a slaughter. However there was only so much any of them could do to even hold Doomsday back, much less stop the monstrosity. It was now even more dangerous and smart enough to overcome any foe.

Kara could feel the tremors from the blows of Kal and Doomsday as she once again tried to lift off and rejoin the fight. Wonder Woman had been thrown through several buildings. The Lanterns were all but broken. Aquaman was crushed under Doomsday’s foot with so much force that it was only Kara’s super hearing that told her he was still alive at all.

Kon forced himself back to his feet and used his telekinesis to throw a piece of rubble before he fell to his knees again. Kara pushed off from the ground and landed behind the behemoth landing several blows to hopefully give Kal a chance to regroup and attack with new energy.

Doomsday smacked her down and stomped her into the pavement. Oh blessed Rao that hurt. Kara could hardly hear past the ringing in her ears. She was only distantly aware of Lois holding Jon back and keeping him from joining the fight. If he did then the entirety of the surviving members of the Noble House of El would be fighting to stop this creature. And if they fail, the entirety of the House of El would die in the fight.

Several super powered punches knocked Doomsday back away from her as Kal tried to rally. He was bleeding, Kryptonian blood flowing, a rare sight. She could hear his heart racing and he kept rising to face the final gift and curse of Krypton.

She pulled herself out of the hole Doomsday had driven her into with difficulty in time to see Kal backhanded down the street. He skidded like a stone skipped across a lake. Kara roared in fury, her eyes blazing red as her heat vision blasted out catching Doomsday in the back and almost driving him to his knees. She held the beam, trying to force him down, but its strength and durability was greater than her stamina and it pushed through her heat vision to knock her to the ground.

Kara gasped in pain, then almost immediately choked as it slammed her into the ground several more times. Each blow brought a new wave of pain as her bones, normally strong as steel, shattered like toothpicks. Her invulnerable skin was torn to shreds under the claws and bone spurs of Doomsday. After one final all mighty blow, Doomsday picked her up and flung her from the battle.

She crashed to the ground, leaving a furrow carved into the ground like a meteor. Blood choked her as she tried to catch her breath. Her hands shook and she couldn’t feel her legs at all. She forced one eye open, her other swollen completely shut, if it even still worked.

It took several attempts for her to actually understand what was surrounding her. Tombstones. Doomsday had thrown her directly into a human graveyard. If she had any breath in her chest she would have laughed at the irony, because this would surely be where she died.

Kara couldn’t help thinking back about her childhood as blood poured slowly from her lips and her many, many wounds. She remembered the lessons she had about the history of the Noble House of El. They were once priests to one of Krypton’s gods. Dan-El, the dark god of death, the opposite of Rao’s light. As the people of Krypton developed scientifically and dedicated themselves to isolation, their gods fell to the wayside. The people lost their connection to death and to Dan-El as the years progressed.

Her father had mourned that so much of their culture was lost, so many of the messages and means of worship of the different gods vanished, and now with Krypton gone, and the last Kryptonians fighting to death in the city streets there seemed to be no way for the scriptures of worship to Dan-El to see the light again.

She turned herself over with difficulty, a choked scream gurling out of her at the unspeakable pain. She pulled herself to the closest headstone, her vision fading. One of the last scriptures of Dan-El that had remained was one promising that he would return to save the House of El, if they only would call on him.

“Dan… El…” Blood bubbled and foamed at her lips as she whispered to the headstone. “Please… please…”

Her vision faded almost completely, only a tiny pinprick remaining as her breath stuttered to a close. Over the ringing in her ears she could hear the beating of her heart slowing, and stilling… and stopping.

“Please…”

A bright radioactive green flashed before her eyes, as the last daughter of Krypton faded from her adoptive planet.

The sky over Metropolis split as a brilliant green lightning bolt flashed across the sky. Those who were sheltering away from the battle between Titans taking place in the streets shuddered in fear, terrified of what new threat could be appearing. Superman and Doomsday stilled in their calamitous fight as the lightning arced from the outskirts of the city to crash at their feet, driving them apart.

Clark fell to his knees as a being stepped out from the column of light that remained frozen there in the air. Even the pebbles and shattered glass thrown up by their fight moved as if in slow motion. The figure, back lit by the green lightning, was tall with fine white hair that floated as if he was in space. A cloak of stars and a crown of green fire graced the shoulders and head of the figure. Clark’s jaw dropped as he saw the Kryptonian God of Death, Dan-El, before him. He perfectly matched the historical records from the Fortress of Solitude.

Dan-El turned to him and Clark found himself frozen. He wanted to fight, to run, it couldn’t be his time to die yet. He had to defeat Doomsday, he had to survive, his family was counting on him.

“You are fortunate, son of El, that someone remembered the ancient prayers.” Dan-El spoke, his voice seeming to pierce directly into Clark’s brain. “It is not yet your time, you have many more lives to save.” Dan-El paused and glanced back at the column of light behind him, then gave Clark a kind look. “You have honored your ancestors, Son of El, your family is proud of what you’ve accomplished, and what you have yet to do.”

Then he turned and Clark felt like the entire weight of the sky had fallen from his shoulders. Tears sprang to his eyes at his relief even before he processed Dan-El’s words and the tears became a torrent. Then the God of Death turned to Doomsday and offered it a hand.

“Poor creature of destruction, Death was never the relief it should have been for you, only a new torture at the hand of your creator. Come to me, and come to your rest. Let Death finally embrace and hold you.”

Doomsday hesitated, its biologically prerogative screaming that it must always survive, no matter what, but after thousands upon thousands of painful deaths, what little of its brain was not dedicated to destruction desperately longed for peace. Doomsday reached out to Dan-El and the two turned and stepped into the burning light, until both disappeared in an instant.

Clark blinked the light from his eyes and looked around. The column of light had vanished and with it Doomsday and Dan-El. The fight was over. Metropolis stood in silence, stunned that Death had come to the city.

In the months following the fight with Doomsday, Metropolis recovered as it did after every fight, battle or invasion that happened in the city. The citizens held their breath in the hope that Doomsday was truly gone and would not return again to devastated their home. Each day that went by without his shadow darkening the horizon and no return of the flash of green lightning that had taken him away let the people breathe a little easier.

Superman healed from his injuries and was once again seen patrolling the skies over Metropolis and the rest of the world alongside his two sons. The world and the Justice League returned to their regular everyday levels of chaos and world ending threats, hopeful once again that the day would be saved by a hero in a crimson cape.

However there was one crimson cape that had not returned to the skies. Kara Zor-El, Supergirl never again took to the air over Metropolis after her confrontation with Doomsday. While she still lived, her time as a hero was over.

Her recovery took longer than Clark’s, her injuries were far too severe. Sometimes she could stand strong and tall just like any of the other Kryptonians. However, many times, her hands shook too much, and her legs couldn’t bear her own weight. The best scientists and engineers of Earth combined the best of human and Kryptonian engineering to create a wheel chair for her, yet still she did wish to return to combat.

Instead of facing down threats as a caped hero, she worked on creating a temple to the Kryptonian god of death, Dan-El. The temple had information and sacred rites of the almost forgotten deity, as well as the history of Krypton. Unlike the other museums and history books, the temple had the true and accurate history of those people. Their most arrogant and humble moments are all on display, along with all the average, everyday moments of life on a planet now long gone.

Kara had given up her red cape in favor of a black, floor length cloak, embroidered with the stars Dan-El loved. Her colorful skirts and outfits were handed in for the robes of the ancient clerics of the House of El. During and after her recovery she dedicated herself to serving the god that had stopped Doomsday.

The worship of Dan-El was at first limited to those within Metropolis, but slowly it spread across the globe with the help of Kara and her temple. She gave sermons that were broadcasted worldwide, whether she was standing proud or sitting in her wheelchair with her hands shaking so hard the rattling could be picked up by her microphone.

Some of the hero community were baffled by her choices, that she would willingly step away from saving people, none more than Clark. Even with her injuries she could still help the superheroes even if she didn’t want to be on the front lines herself, just like how Oracle still helped as a computer specialist. He brought it up with her repeatedly, but each time she turned him down and said that she was serving her purpose.

“Kara, please-” Clark tried again after one of her sermons on Dan-El’s teachings.

“Clark!” Kara interrupted him. She glanced at the followers who were learning how the Kryptonians venerated death before she led the way into her private office. “I’ve made my choice and you need to respect it.”

“Kara, you still have the power to help others. Don’t you have a responsibility to do so?”

She scowled at him. “I am helping people. I’m helping them come to terms with the vast world of Death.” Clark took a breath to speak, but she spoke over him. “And I am fulfilling my oath to Dan-El in exchange for his assistance with Doomsday.”

“Kara-”

“Listen to my heart, Kal.” Kara ordered.

Clark looked at her in confusion before focusing on her. She watched his face twist and fall in confusion and dismay.

“Wha-?”

“I died that day.” Kara snapped. “I breathed my last in the graveyard where I called him. He promised to answer my final request, to spare you from Doomsday’s wrath, without any obligation, in this life or the next. However, he offered me a chance, a chance to keep facing the world, despite my pain and my tremors. He froze my heart in between one beat and the last. I will never fully heal, so I have chosen to utilize the borrowed time to act as his Servitor. I will spread the word of Dan-El, the Phantom King of Death, to those of Earth. Because he gave me the time.”

Clark looked at her frozen, grief raging across his face.

“Kara, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.”

“You weren’t supposed to.” Kara said simply, before she lifted the hood of her cloak over her golden hair. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have another sermon in a few minutes.”

From his frozen throne within the Infinite Realms, Danny Phantom, known as Dan-El to the Kryptonians, watched his Servitor. His name had all but disappeared from the thoughts of mortals, yet now it would once again be able to spread across the universe. He hoped that his message would help. Help prevent the fate of Krypton from repeating itself. Help prevent the fate of his own home universe, where the actions of a corrupt government led to all of life being cut off from Death. He had spared her, the last daughter of Krypton, in the desperate hope that all the various worlds of this universe, and the many universes they have contact with would spread his messages.

#danny phantom #dp x dc #death god danny phantom #kara zor-el #supergirl #doomsday

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meruz · 6 months

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Lightbox Expo 2023 is over!! Thank you to everyone who stopped by the table. I can't believe I sold out of both my sketchbooks AND my digimon fanbook... (multiple prints too?!)! I'm incredibly grateful... I will have a 2nd print run of both sketchbooks and online orders for the digimon book up in the next couple weeks so please keep an eye out for that!

More gushing abt the weekend under the cut

I sell at an average of idk... 3-4 events a year? So I would consider myself a frequent congoer though not necessarily full time lol. I'm a little jaded like it's not that I don't enjoy going to cons but theres definitely a bunch that feel like just-another-con-weekend to me lol, sometimes it's more work than play I guess. But this con felt really different! For the first time in a while I left a convention feeling really thrilled and giddy that I had been there. The kind of feeling I used to get when I would table at anime cons in highschool! And I think a lot of that is the people I met and talked to and the overall vibes at the event. Oh also I literally just had surgery and going to this con is like the only thing ive done this week besides lay in bed and play Story of Seasons on the nintendo switch and I thought I would be in pain and miserable but actually I HAD SO MUCH FUN...!!!! even when i skipped after-hours socializing every night to go home early and sleep 12 hours lol. SO ANYWAYS. YEAH. IT'S CORNY. BUT I wanna say thank you again to everyone who stopped by the table. Especially all the coworkers and long time mutuals who I met in person for the first time this weekend!! And the long time followers who told me they have been following me since homestuck or naruto or whenever. And college classmates who I haven't seen since graduation, crazy talented underclassmen who I'd never met but stopped by to say hi... So many people who absolutely made my day. SPECIAL thank you to my table partner Emi who is the best and such a good sport and accommodating to the point that I feel ridiculous when she thanks me for anything. And um also thank you to the artists who were cool and nice when I went up to their tables and blurted out 24917596 compliments in rapid succession. or only got one really awkward compliment out to LMAO... I felt so inspired and awe struck by everyone's work! God it was just so cool to be there. I LOVE ART....

Ok yeah thats it. its been a while since ive written a post-con blog post so earnestly lol.. here's my obscene haul photo I was buying stuff at this con like I was dying and couldn't take it with me LMAO.

I'm not gonna go tag everyone because I don't think everyones on tumblr but if you dont mind doing a little google search legwork: big x-men prints from chase conley, prints from jacki li/bguavas, azusa tojo, xanthe bouma, nicodaboy, susan yung, hormstuck, nessa tweneboah, linda liu, ash tahilan, zines also from jason dwyer, ash tahilan, aprilyn cunanan, veggiecakeface, deb lee, dune5and, uhh yoichi nishikawa art book and parakid calendar, stickers again from ash, marie lum, hormstuck, chiou, and emi hartana/crowlets OKAY I THINK I COVERED EVERYTHING THANKS FOR READING

#lifeblogging

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yorutsuki · 2 months

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「 ✦ Isekaied Reversed Pt. 4 ✦ 」

↳ Its been a few days since the Yaksha, Xiao, came home. During his stay, you've been busy trying to teach him modern etiquette, technology and as well, fashion. Surprisingly he learns quite quickly although, at points his stubbornness can be an obstacle.

Tags:

──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────

<; Day 1 >

The day after your fantasies became a reality, you decided it was time to teach him about the modern era. For the first day, you decided that it was important to inform him how bland this world actually was. For instance, visions, monsters and rulers. At first the usually all-knowing adeptus was quite confused and lost.

How could their be no Archons? Why didn't people own visions even though there was a God? If there weren't any monsters, why did they need excessive police?

So as a helpful world-guide, you informed him of all the answers to his questions and doubts.

"So in summary..you're world is overruled by a God instead of Celestia. Instead of seven nations, you have 195 nations..which then have uh..countries—Cities? And their ruled by different leaders who aren't Gods..?"

You nodded, scratching your neck tiredly, "Yep, but thats not even half of it all. Theres more politic factors that play into this world and it's system.." You sighed, already knowing that explaining all of it would be a pain. "—and not to mention, some of their systems suck a-" You cut your mumbling off, clearing your throat.

"Anyways, we can get into the deeper stuff later, today is just about the basics—like currency and some basic laws."

Xiao shook his head as he crossed his arms. "Tell me how all of this would help in returning me back?"

You eternally groaned as you had briefly forgotten about that problem. "Well, finding a way to send you back isn't an overnight project—it will probably take time. In the meanwhile, you need to know how this world works in order to er-fit in? And trust me, you'd want to cause right now, you stick out like a polar bear in the summer."

The adeptus gave you a questioning look but shook his head once more, deciding it would be best to keep his mouth shut.

< Day 2 >

When the second day arrived, you began to teach him about modern technology. You showed many examples such as cars, Tv's, microwaves, temperature remotes as well as showing how to use different devices. Seeing him struggle turned to be much more amusing than you originally thought to be.

"A computer...? So you're saying someone can just do...anything on it?" Xiao quizzed, inspecting the bright screen of the device. You nodded proudly, "basically, it's like the terminal akasha." You compared, thinking of the best possible way that would make sense.

"Anyways, yes, you can do anything on it that's virtual. Unless you use the device itself as a weapon then well uh.."

Xiao nodded, "I see."

...

You quite regretted showing Xiao the physics of a computer as you could hear it playing videos and random sounds all night. You would've scolded him if it weren't for the fact you remembered that adeptus' didn't need sleep much like humans.

Eternally groaning, you rolled over and stuff your face into the comfort of your pillow.

...

The next morning, you had a small mental crises on how horrendous you looked—puffy eyes, dark eye bags, frizzy hair..

Dear God..

< Day 4 >

Yay! You skipped a day! If you're wondering why then heres the summary;

For the whole of the third day you couldn't get the yaksha to divert from the computer or TV. When you eventually managed to persuade him away from it, he'd ignore your whole existence with a pout. So thus, you took the day off from teachings and let him do his thing.

However on day 4, when Xiao finally regained his sense of duty and why he was even here, you started teaching up about fashion which ultimately led to...Mall trip!

'Hah...my bank account's decreasing every day...'

"Alright err...Xiao?" Was it informal to address him by his name? Ehhh you'll figure that out later.

"Alright, we're at the mall. In summary, a mall is a big plaza with many stalls but more modern."

"Oh! And don't worry about spendings, it's on me." You smiled as the guardian nodded.

You sighed as your head looked to the ground. "-but you'll need to repay me with a fixed door." You muttered grudgingly.

Xiao merely nodded once more before starting to walk around the area, ignoring the minor judgemental and simpful stares that stray his way.

It wasn't long until a group of teenage girls with an array of cropped and baggy clothing came rushing towards the two of you—well, more towards Xiao.

You couldn't help but feel anxious—one could even say jealous, as you watched the adeptus get swarmed by the needy high school fangirls who were gawking over him.

"Can we get a picture with you? Your cosplay is slaying so hard-" One of them asked, smiling like as if she won the lottery.

Xiao furrowed his brows in discomfort. "No, sorry. I'm busy as at the moment." He retorted sternly, not wanting to be center of attention. "Oh my God! You even sound and act like him!" The same girl replied, ignoring his clear discomfort.

Not wanting to socialize but seeing that he'd have barely any way out of it as, concerningly, people are much more narcissistic and persistant these days.

Thus you went over towards the group, interrupting their one sided conversation as you cleared your throat. "I see the shop over there, we probably should get going." You pointed towards the modern silver font sign with the metal letters of, 'H&M'. The adeptus, seeming to get the que, nodded as he walked towards you, not sparing the girls one glance.

As you walked one of them just had to say something.

"Jeez, she didn't have to be so bitchy, kinda a pick me honestly..." one of the girls muttered to her friends who you faintly heard chuckle.

You just rolled your eyes, not wanting to continue the conflict. "Such cowards, can't even say it to my face." You huffed following beside Xiao.

The adeptus glanced at your irritated state though only shook his head. "You mortals are weird. Why should you care about their opinions, especially if it's one coming from a little shit?" He questioned, his gaze staying in front of him.

You paused, looking at him wide eyed.

The adeptus, noticing your absent presence beside him turned a slight and saw your shocked expression. "What?"

"You just sweared?" You stared dumbfounded.

Xiao looked confusingly before understanding, shaking his head. "well in Teyvat, we have will to swear and say profanities but many refrain from doing so, and i'm guessing the 'gum-play' and code? From this world may also be a benefiting factor."

You made a 'ah' sound before shrugging. "probably."

The two of you entered the store as your journey for clothing has finally begun.

'i'm officially going broke...'

...

After a few painful yet inquisite long hours in the mall, the both of you were heading back to your car, ready to leave.

Unfortunately, your hands were struggling halfway out of the mall as the bags' weight was started to wear down your strength.

Your hands felt quite sore and you swore you saw a finger turn a dark hue of magenta..

"Give one to me."

You looked over to your side as Xiao held out his hand.

You rolled your eyes, "nuh uh, you already have a bag. Plus, I offered to get this stuff so in courtesy. i'm carrying it." You informed, a grin etching your face but soon was replace with struggle.

While shopping, you may have gotten a bit side-tracked and bought more than what you needed—overall, ending up with the both of you having to carry 3 bags in total.

Xiao huffed, "it's not a offer, you look like you're struggling and it will only make you slow." He informed, his brows furrowing.

'thanks for the confidence.' You mentally rolled your eyes once more before reluctantly handing over one of the bags.

...

Finally arriving home, you settled your new buys down and offered to clean the yaksha's clothes. More or less because you didn't want him stinking up the apartment/house and dragging dirt throughout it.

He hesitantly agreed before trying to change into the new clothes. Keyword, trying.

Somehow he managed to tangle himself with the shirt and you having to help him, but of coarse, you averted your eyes away from the scene and gave him verbal instructions.

...

Setting down the plates, you then unfroze the left over foods in the microwave.

Once the food was hot and steamy, you set it down on the table as the adeptus stared at it, puzzled. "What is this?"

"It's called pizza." You informed him, taking a slice for yourself.

"Pi-tza?" He questioned, staring at the slice of cheese and tomato covered crust.

"mhm-" Your head shot up, "wait, can you even eat flour—tomatos or cheese? You questioned. In game the only food he could have, lore wise, was almond tofu.

(HELP- I haven't played genshin in so long, I forgot exactly if he couldn't eat other things or if he just was doing it by his own preference...Oh well for plot purpose)

The adeptus nodded a yes, before hesitantly picking the slice up—taking a bite.

It was nothing like he ever tasted—almost on par with almond tofu. Actually, it's been so long since he had something other than the same dish which was most likely why the food's taste was enhanced. Either way, he loved it, the sauce gave off a perfect acidity while the cheese creamed it down. The crust was cooked just right and the toppings just brought the whole thing together.

You felt quite happy as his eyes lit up, practically munching the whole thing down.

"Jeez, slow down, theres more slices, plus you can choke" You chuckled.

...

As the day came to an end, you couldn't help but realized how happy you felt. It's been a while since you had company over so the change was nice.

Looking over towards Xiao who was peacefully sitting outside, a small smile graced upon your lips. How you wished this feeling could last forever...

A/N: Jeez, I need to post more often :(..Sorry for not posting, i've been busy lately with being sick and then having missing assignments and then having a busy weekend after. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter!! It was quite long :')

Please, if you have any, leave any feedback as it could really help me improve. And, especially if the stories going to fast or the relationship between the two is too quick, please let me know so I can try amking alterations.

With that being said, thank you so much for reading and have a good day/night! ^^

......

{ <- Previous Part }

......

[ Masterlist ]

#x reader #xiao #gender neutral reader #oneshot #genshin #scenerios #genshin impact #genshin imagines #xiao genshin impact #gender neutral y/n #xiao x reader #xiao x y/n

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madwomansapologist · 8 months

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Hi! Wanted to say that your writing style is so nice and it feels so mushy when I read them. I'm truly amazed, where do you gen an inspiration to write?

Can I please request Morpheus x reader, who picks on their skin? I've always had this stupid habit and in result fingers (and sometimes face) are always in pain or bleeding. And usually you're not notice it until someone points it out for you and things become awkward. 💀 (Also I'm so sorry to bother if your requests are closed, I checked but maybe accidentally skipped it)

It's okay if this may be weird or specific and you don't want to do it, I'm still grateful for your writings. Have a nice day!

morpheus noticing your skin-picking habit would include

synopsis: Restoring the long-forgotten library of Morpheus's realm, your last concern was what your hands were doing. Concentrated on reorganizing and looking for signs of lost dreams and nightmares, it was Morpheus who noticed a old habit of yours.

warnings: none.

ps: omg. you're literally the best. thank you for that! well mostly of my inspiration comes from things that i personally believe. you know that "write about what you know" advice? i prefer it worded as a "write about what you feel." like the last thing i wrote for Morpheus. it was a request about pregnancy, and I could just write about it, but it didn't really talked to me. but perceiving death and deciding that fuck that, the memories of my family will keep me alive—that talk to me. so mostly i guess is just that Neil Gaiman writing advice: don't be afraid of telling the truth. he said that all books are lies told by people that can put truth in them. i guess i live by that. sorry for the rant, but i'm so passionate about it. either way, hope you like this! my requests weren't close by the time you ask for it (sorry for the long wait, i was working on the birthday event), there is no need to apologize! have a great day, dear! 💙🪩

• The library wasn't going to restore itself. At least, you don't think it can. Doing whatever Lucienne told you to, it was only natural for you to focus on trying to make this realm reach its glory again. You didn't have time for anything else.

• Cain and Able were surprisely helpful with your task. The brothers may not be exactly healthy with one another, but they know a lot about this place you know so little. With their knowledge and ease of sharing it, you were closer and closer to finally find Brute and Glob.

• By the time you were back with Lucienne, you both had so much to do. It was so easy to forget about anything else. To have a break, to eat something, to sleep for a few hours. So many things to do, so much to repair, that all you could was to focus on your work. Not even an old habit of yours could have won your attention.

• You were picking on your skin. It always surprises you when you noticed, simply because you don't do this on purpose. It is just a thing that happens. Most of the times, you don't noticed until it starts to hurt or bleed. And this time, none of that happened.

• Dive into work, and with Lucienne also worrying about the realm, no one was really paying attention to your skin. Your hands picked and pushed, but with no great amount of pain to warn you about it, you just didn't noticed.

• You both heard when Morpheus entered the library. After one of his many quests to find his tools, it was a surprise that he would come back so early. Or was it late? You can't really tell how time works here.

• When you welcomed him, it took mere seconds for Morpheus' expression to change from tiredness to concern. He walked straight towards you, his hands grabbed your face with care and affection, and asked you what hurted you.

• You undertood quickly what happened. You explained to him, the awkward situation making you more and more embarrassed with every couple of words, feeling suddenly so out of place. But when Morpheus was sure that nothing had inflicted pain on you, his softness made impossible for you to remain embarrassed.

• Morpheus silenced you with sweet kisses. His lips roamed through your face, his feelings penetreting your skin. He kissed you whole before looking at you again. And the way he looked at you, the way Morpheus always look at you, made you feel so... so...

• Wide.

• In front of Morpheus, in between his hands, you feel infinite. Morpheus always finds a way to make you feel like that.

• Morpheus may not be the best person to pick on social clues, but he can read you. When you care about someone in the way he cares about you, it's easy to learn about the person of interest. Morpheus was able to understand that this habit was just another facade of you, and he would never made you feel bad about it.

• Of course Morpheus would pretty much rather you not hurting yourself in anyway, but he would never made you feel bad about it. If he ever notice you doing it again, Morpheus would just grab you hand and kiss it. It's not like being gentle with you was difficult.

• And if you ever pick your skin until it bleed, Morpheus have no problem with helping you to clean it. Morpheus can take care of you, just like you took care of him so many times before. He's just being fair.

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

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voltronisanobsession · 9 months

Text

Being Keith’s Older Sibling

The urges were too strong to not write this💆‍♀️💆‍♀️

Sorry if there’s some typos, my eyes are in a LOT of pain rn

Being Keith’s older sibling is definitely a hard feat in itself

After the death of your guys’ dad, things kinda went downhill for both of y’all

Your general mistrust and attitude towards people brushed off on little Keith, which comes to play later in his life as we’ve seen he was a more troubled kid

So while you tried your best to be a good role model for Keith growing up, it was hard to do so when all he ever saw from you was your aggression towards adults who tried separating you both

Eventually, social services do separate you guys, claiming that it would be best to allow Keith to grow without your negative influences but the damage had been done

Keith would grow up to not trust many people in his life because of your separation, always finding ways to sneak off and see you at the school they sent you to

It was times like those where you would promise to take him away from this place, from Earth, and live a life where you won't lose each other again

Because of this, Keith also developed a habit of lying to his guardians about his whereabouts because of your own attachment to him, encouraging him to continue this behavior 😭😭😭

Man none of yall knew better😭💔💔

But as you grew older, you, unfortunately, were sent away to the city to continue your studies there, cutting all contact with your little brother

Keith would then take an interest in flying and would go on to attend the Garrison to learn to become a pilot while you made plans every day to once again be reunited with him

I feel like it would take some time to leave the city and go back to your hometown because of the lack of resources available to you

So by the time you reach the Garrison after finding out he's been attending the school, it would be around the time he flunked out and disappeared

Fate is not fair to yall (crying)

So you get a job at the garrison while trying to find Keith and some time passes (YAY TIME SKIP)

After following Lance and Hunk while also finding Pidge on the rooftops, readying to reprimand and write them up, you all see the space shuttle crash and explosions go off, shooting off immediately to investigate

All while you're yelling at them to get back to the building cuz you don't want to lose the only job you have that's near where you think Keith is lurking💀

After seeing it was Keith who caused the explosions, he doesn't recognize you until you all get to the cabin

It's kinda emotional on your end cuz bro

This is your little brother... He's all grown up now, but in a way, he still looks the same. He's so much taller now, his hair is longer, and he would look at you with a familiar distrust you recognized

It was the same look he would give others when you guys were younger

The worst part is that he doesn't even recognize you because its been YEARS since he's last seen you

So it's a bit of a shock for him when you reveal that hey! I'm your sibling! And I've been trying so hard to get back to you for YEARS!

Very emotional as you both hug it out

Like really hug it out, tears and everything

"I thought I would never see you again."

"I never stopped looking for you Keith."

URGH MY HEART💔💔💔💔

After that everything is HISTORY

The dynamic between you both is kind of a weird thing tbh

While you're still holding onto the past and the younger version of Keith you remember, Keith has since let go of what the past held, ready to start a new future with his older sibling in his life

Because you're still holding onto this past, you treat him as if he's still a child and appear somewhat coddling in a way

You're just so excited and happy to be reunited with Keith again that you forget he's since then grown up. He's learned to be independent from years spent alone

And while Keith does miss you as well, he isn't used to having this new 'guardian figure' in his life, only used to the freedom and advice given to him from others, especially Shiro

Speaking of Shiro, I think you would go to him for advice on the blockage between you both since he basically raised Keith after you had left.

He knows Keith better, as much as it hurts you to admit it

Shiro would definitely tell you to give Keith space, to give him time to adjust to the new changes in his life. He's still a teen and is still learning to deal with his emotions, so just give him space to fully digest the situation at hand

You take this advice to heart and tread carefully, which Keith appreciates A LOT

Like imagine you grow up with unrestricted freedom, being able to do whatever you want and just learning to take care of yourself, and then one day, an authoritative figure appears in your life and begins setting up these restrictions. Telling you to be careful, making small rules that break your routine entirely

That's what Keith felt when you began making your presence more known in his life since you believed that you had to keep protecting him from the world

But he's grown up

He shows you that he doesn't need you protecting him anymore

It's bittersweet for you to see him not need you and makes you sad that you missed out on basically his childhood

BUT HE'S SO SWEET IN LETTING YOU KNOW THAT YOU'LL BE THERE FOR HIM NOW AND HIS FUTURE ACCOMPLISHMENTS

AND THAT HE'LL BE THERE FOR YOURS TOO😭😭😭

There's just TOO MUCH I can say about being Keith's older sibling, like it's such a complex relationship I would love to develop more on!!!!

This is literally just the tip of the iceberg but imma cut it short for now

To keep it sweet, both of you know that now you're together again, nothing is ever separating yall again

Space wars and all, you guys know you're stronger together and your bond just grows into a beautiful relationship as time goes on😭😭

#Keith x reader #keith kogane x reader #platonic Keith x reader #voltron x reader #vld x reader #voltron legendary defender #x reader #voltron #vld #keith kogane #Keith vld #vld keith #platonic Keith kogane #voltron legendary defender x reader #platonic voltron

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the-guilty-writer · 1 year

Text

Intoxicating Hurt

Request from anon: thank you for explaining the thing abt sh before writing it i feel like it did help. if you are uncomfortable you can skip its no big deal but if you want could you do a Spencer x Daughter!Reader where he realises she has been hurting herself and he helps her

Spencer Reid x daughter!reader

Summary: If anyone knows how intoxicating hurting can be, it’s Spencer Reid. If anyone knows that there’s a better way to take pain away, it’s Spencer Reid.

A/N: SH is serious, which is why I believe that it needs to be written about in order to spread awareness. SH also comes in many many different forms, which is why this is so general. I think it’s important to recognize that how things are portrayed in popular media is not always an accurate representation of real life.

If you are struggling please reach out to someone. It gets better.

CW: Reader self harms- no graphic descriptions or specifications.

---

You weren’t quite sure when it started- all you knew was that it took some of the pain away. Funny how people said you couldn’t fight fire with fire when it seemed to be working for you. The relief of feeling something physical so the mental pain lessened only worked for a few minutes, but those minutes were awfully blissful.

And then it became addicting- something your brain craved and your body needed just to get through the day. On days where you felt everything it made the emotions bearable. On days when you felt nothing it gave you something to hold onto. It wasn’t a choice and it wasn’t a habit; you needed it to feel alive. You needed it to survive. There was no other option and there was no way out.

How could you tell that to your dad, though? How could you explain the bliss of the high you got from damaging yourself? Could someone like Spencer Reid understand that?

He saw the evidence on your body, his heart shattering at the sight of his daughter’s suffering on tangible display. His gut churned with the guilt of not noticing sooner. He wanted to avert his eyes from the sight of his little girl’s pain, but it was like a car wreck he couldn’t look away from.

“We’re going to get you help,” Spencer whispered to you.

Emotionally drained, you whispered back, “I don’t think I can stop.”

“You can.” Your dad kissed your forehead. “You will.”

“But it feels so good,” you breathed out. A tear fell from your eye. “I can’t go without it.”

“I promise you will,” he said. “I promise.”

#criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x daughter!reader #spencer reid x child!reader #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x teen!reader #criminal minds x daughter!reader #criminal minds x child!reader

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nalyra-dreaming · 20 days

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Heey, I've finished Memnoch, and I'm evidently among those crazy people who enjoy it a lot. Although it would land differently if I didn't read ahead. The further I go, the more this wet cat of a man entices me. PL Lestat did something to my brain, I will probably love all the mad shenanigans now. + The ending made a lot of sense after TVA and Blood and Gold. I kiiind of regret I've skipped this part at first, though, because now I'm curious what the ending would do to me without spoilers 🤣

So, a question. How did Armand's religious frenzy look for you when other novels haven't come out yet? I'm not sure I would have understood it the same way only with his TVL chapter. And what did you think in general with the context of what Anne was saying at the time? It kinda did feel like she didn't want to write about them anymore and wanted to explore something else. So I get why people would be confused.

By now I enjoy it a lot as well!! It grew on me on second reread, which is not that far back actually, and was followed by a pause and then a third. There is a lot in there and a lot that makes one think, and a lot... crazy stuff *laughs*

So this was, by statement, supposed to be the last book. Then. She did not want to write them anymore, indeed.

Which, you might imagine, was devastating, with that ending.

Armand gone up in flames, others, too. Lestat mad, jaded and slinking into obscurity.

I didn't touch the books for the longest time.

I'm not sure I can answer your question wrt to Armand and his religious frenzy. It's... been a while (maybe others want to add on with their experiences here?!) - I just remember that reading it all... was devastating.

Louis, crying and begging at the locked doors. The absolute despair in it all, in the grief of losing Armand.

Lestat saying: "Adieu, mon amour." the last thing in the book.

The whole book screams for some answers. Answers that are still denied in the end. Was it the Devil? Was it God? Was it purgatory? Did Armand sacrifice himself there for anything that is true? Or was it just a futile gesture, which brought only pain, no relief... I can understand the utter shock to the system actual proof had to produce in Armand - him, a child of the Children of Satan, being confronted with the actual proof within this universe.

It must have been devastating as well, emotionally, and for his soul.

So much of what he believed he had left behind and overcome... crushing him now.

Now, TVA followed. Merrick. Blood and Gold. Pandora. Blackwood Farm. Blood Canticle. I picked them up at some point, somewhat disbelievingly.

I did not really enjoy them the first time, after Memnoch the wound was still open, the yearning to get back to Lestat for some kind of resolution for him and Louis quite strong. The blow had been intense, and Merrick promised... and then the other books did not deliver. And Blood Canticle felt absolutely OOC, though I find it has its place now in his arc. Now.

Because back then I could not have dreamed that Anne would finish the arcs. Or some at least. Would pick up the threads for Louis, Lestat and even Claudia once more, reshape them. I had not dreamed that the last trilogy would give them resolution.

Would close so many wounds.

I'm older now. I understand a lot more about trauma, and pain, and loss, and how these things shape us.

I read these books now quite differently. Their voices sound differently in my mind. I know why Anne had to let Louis go, and why she struggled so hard. I can feel the pain of loss and the wish to find a higher purpose in the tale.

So yeah^^. Reading it back then without the other books... was indeed something^^. But I do enjoy rereading it now too. :)

#bark-han #asks #ask nalyra #memnoch the devil #vc #the vampire chronicles #armand #lestat de lioncourt #louis de pointe du lac

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bonefall · 6 months

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I NEED TO KNOW MORE ABOUT MARSHSCAR????

Sure! He's a supporting character in Ripplestar's Rot, and becomes leader of ShadowClan after the Great Pancakening at the Battle of the Gathering.

I wrote about him and every leader post-Ripplestar over here

Marshpaw was a little older than Ripplekit when he was brought to the Clan, just newly apprenticed. Their apprenticeships overlapped and they were teenage friends.

Marsh has always been a sort of quiet dude, he's never been a go-getter. More of a steady, practical guy.

He was friends with Spottedpelt and Gorseclaw too, him and Gorse were the more "level headed" people in the group.

His first name was Marshtail. "Scar" is an Honor Title.

Him and Ripplemoon were young warriors when they became mates. Marshtail could tell you that he liked his passion and drive, but, it would be a half truth. He can't really pick anything in particular that is his favorite trait

He could spend a day stuck in a tree hole with him and it would be enjoyable. He just likes his vibe, he likes to be with him.

There's not much to say about him before the ending of Ripplestar's Rot, because he's a mild guy. His ideal life would have been being a background character who goes on patrol a lot lmao

But at the death of Ripplestar and Spottedpelt, suddenly he was thrust into power he NEVER wanted, in the middle of mourning the loss of his mate and his extended family, and the end of a war he'd given everything to.

His heart broken, he had to clean up what Ripplestar left behind. The other three leaders blamed ShadowClan for everything, and the war had taken a chunk out of the population.

Especially in ShadowClan, with a ton of their warriors being slaughtered at the Gathering. Because of Gorseclaw, they'd seen the attack coming and prepared by only bringing their strongest warriors.

In fury, Dalestar of WindClan and Birchstar of RiverClan exiled many of the outed rebels within their ranks

So, Marshstar was dealing with the other Clans baying for a severe punishment of ShadowClan, adding a flood of new commandments to the code, and also a political refugee crisis

This was a mess. An exhausting, painful mess

It didn't get better, either. No matter what Marshstar did, someone was going to be furious. He couldn't appease the other Clans while maintaining ShadowClan, so, they started exacting revenge by attacking constantly.

(And, mind you, this was the age of Kit Stealing and pillaging. These attacks were high-stakes)

Eventually he stopped apologizing or even negotiating at all. ShadowClan became a sort of secluded, defensive nut that shared very little news, and even skipped Gatherings a few times.

But even that didn't please his warriors. They wanted the Gatherings. They wanted their own revenge. Even as the population recovered, Marshstar refused to do anything else.

The rest of his life felt like he was just biding time. 9 long lives without Ripplestar felt like a curse.

He did do one thing though-- when Houndfang was young, she was a goddamn punk. Little rebel without a cause, the Clan used to be frustrated that she was given such a ferocious name; she could have used a name to calm her down instead :/

She reminded Marshstar of a casual discussion about warrior names he had with Ripplestar, once. About how he liked names that simply made sense, and didn't need to be defended with prose. A Hound and its Fangs

He took a shining to Houndkit, in his melancholic way. She liked bothering him, he wouldn't snap at her or push her away. He would even sometimes enable her-- telling her little tricks for sneaking past the big warriors or giving her advice on how to persuade them to do what she wanted.

So the habit only got "worse." She had absolutely no fear of him as an apprentice and would just announce her opinion to his face.

thinking about it, Marshstar probably took her as an apprentice towards the end of her time as Houndpaw, after getting in too many fights with her mentor and the mentor trying to appeal for a delay of her assessment until she learned respect.

"Hm. No. I don't want her spirit broken. I think the other Clans deserve some hell, actually."

Houndfang didn't have ambition as a kid, she didn't know what she wanted. Marshstar gave her an outlet and it became electricity in her veins.

She quickly took over the Clan when she became deputy, and was more of a leader than he ever was. He just let her start running it.

I feel like he cast his name off, just before he died. He did not want to be Marshstar, he wanted to return to Marshscar, so he held a renaming ceremony for himself and passed on leadership officially.

ShadowClan was reignited in a way it hadn't been in years when Houndstar took power. In the passionate cheering of the crowd, Marshscar slipped away.

No one ever saw him again after that. He was probably sick and went somewhere he could pass away in solitude. Cat behavior

His heart remained with Ripplestar for the entirety of his long life, and for him, it was a relief when it was finally over.

When he got to StarClan, they tried to put him on trial. He got frustrated shortly into it. Ripplestar and Spottedpelt are not here so Literally Why Should I Care?

And they're going to throw this big bombastic ballyhoo, why? To posture? For who? This is pointless and quite frankly embarassing.

He actually interrupted the court proceedings with an Excuse Me. I Don't Want This.

"Thank you for your time. This has been a waste of mine."

It's kind of funny to think that if Houndstar knew about what her mentor did here she would flip her shit at him lmao.

Honestly, he does not mind being in Hell. Like, at all. He'll follow Ripplestar wherever, but in Skypelt I can imagine him making occasional statements about missing the taste of bloodsap or something.

#better bones au #Bb!Marshscar #Marshstar #BB!ShadowClan #Ripplestar's Rot #BB!houndstar

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burnedwriter · 1 year

Text

‘’too late’’

A/n:ft xiao,childe and diluc.These are some headcanons of how their worst nightmare came to life,your death

warnings:angst,mention of death,gender-neutral language used.

🐋childe/tartaglia

🐋Childe is a harbinger as we all know so he probably has a lot of enemies or people trying to get him and if its not directly him that means they will come after you,to hit him exactly were it hurts the most.

🐋That’s one of the many reasons he has taught you how to fight in the first place,just in case something like this happens when hes away on a mission,but is this really enough to keep you from harms way.

🐋One day he will come against a gloomy discovery that was about to unfold as he came back to your home.

Walking towards the house,he saw footprints going towards your house.It took him a second to realize what was going on from the shock,thinking of the worst case scenario,his heart started beating loudly as he rushed towards the house as fast as he could.

‘‘shit shit shit’‘he whispered to himself all the negative thoughts circling around in his mind,he hoped to see you peacefully reading your book but that was far from the truth.

bursting through the door he saw you sitting up with your back against the wall one hand holding the bloody sword and the other pressing on the big wound you had on you abdomen.He immediatly run on your side trying to get you to get up.

‘‘please get up ,i need to get you to safety’‘he choked,his voice shaky tears threatening to escape from his eyes,his worst nightmare coming to life as he continued to try and get you to stand up.

‘‘Ajax,its ok ,please it’s too late now’‘you struggled to say,your hand leaving the sword and putting it on his head,stroking his hair softly one last time as he put his head in the crook of your neck,sobbing quietly staining your shoulder with tears,it was the first time you saw childe cry,it always broke your heart seeing him in pain but it was too late now the only thing you could do was hold him in your warm embrace as it slowly turned cold,taking your last breath.

🦉Diluc

🦉Just like childe he has many enemies but in diluc’s case it’s the fatui he has to look out for.Even though he had run ins with them years ago he still has an eye out for them since they are scattered all over mondstadt.

🦉Diluc was always cautious about you going out on your own without supervision aka him being your bodyguard but in response to that you always said that everything was going to be ok and there was nothing to worry about.

🦉Not until today....

🦉Coming back to the winery he sensed something was off,getting greeted by Adeline instead of you was a rare sight as it only happened when you were sick or extremly tired.

‘‘Master diluc,please dont panic with what i am about to say’‘Adeline nervously said,making Diluc’s heart skip beats and drop in an instant even without Adeline telling him but let her finished anyways as he didnt want to jump to conclusion.

‘‘they havent come back’‘she said with the same anxious tone in her voice.

‘‘I wil go look for them’‘Diluc said calmly.He may looked calm and collected on the outside but on the inside he could feel his soul wither as time passed.

Leaving the winery in a haste,he got on his horse and off he was,the first location he went to was mondstadt,trying desperatly to ask people about your whereabouts or if they have seen you at all but it was late at night so the only people to ask where the knights at the main gate.The knights telling diluc that they saw you leave the city and take the road that lead towards the winery.Taking the same path diluc’s body slowly started getting overtaken by stress as he saw no sight of you.

Suddenly he saw a person laying in the middle of the pathath.

‘‘no it can’t be’‘diluc whispered out loud,getting closer and realizing who the person was.Getting off his horse he sprinted towards you.

He breathed heavily as he held you lifeless corpse on his hand,tears streaming down his cheeks,shaking you desperatly to ‘’wake up’’ as he couldnt believe that you were dead right before his very own eyes,regretting his desition letting you go out alone.From all the shaking,diluc noticed that you were holding something on your half closed hand,taking it off he saw that it was a fatui insignia.Did you try to fight back?or did they placed it there on purpose knowing that diluc would find you eventually.His grief slowly turned into burning hatred.Taking you into his arms and taking you back to the winery for a proper burial.

‘‘i won’t let them get away with it,i promise’‘stroking your face softly one last time,starting to plot his revenge for what they did to avenge you.

🍃😠Xiao

🍃😠Now Xioa he was always scared and very cautious when you were away traveling before coming back to liyue to stay for a bit and leaving again to continue your travels again.You would sent him letters knowing your were abouts with photos of beautiful scenary that you took from the places you are visiting.

🍃😠He told you to call out his name no matter how dangerous the situation was and that he will be there for you no matter what.

🍃😠Unlike the others Xiao never saw you die.He realized it when latern rite happened,you always came to liyue around that time to visit and pass time with him as it was the aniversary where the two of you officially became a couple.

This time was different,you never showed up during latern rite nor he recieved any letters from you that you werent going to make it this year’s latern rite nor the next nor the one after that,At first he thought you found someone else but he realized that wasnt thecase,Xiao quickly realized that your luck might have caught up to you.He felt devistated he wasnt even able to say goodbye to you,the ;ast conversation you two had running on rpeat inside his head over and over again remembering the last location you were going to visit before you left.Getting up from where he was sitting he decide that he was going to find you no matter what.

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