#been a while since i actually Made art that had some considerable thought going into the design lol. it's kinda fun actually

[demigod-of-the-agni]

Pray ardently, my empty puppet; Among brothers you roam, the black sheep.

• • •

lore, variants and ID under the cut !!

what is the significance of the snakes? no idea. i probably drew them badly, too.

but hinduism claims snakes represent life, death and rebirth; northeastern indian cultures consider snakes and serpentine dragons to be symbols of good luck and fortune, and protectors of water sources; and funnily enough, the sanskrit word "naga" has often been used to refer to snakes, serpentine demigods, and, very very rarely, clouds.

and maybe this is a long-winded way of saying desi!Cloud finds himself leaning towards the serpents in his journey for self-forgiveness and recovery, much like how AC Cloud is often paired with Fenrir and the wolf motif.

if i were to really follow through with desi!Cloud and the snake motif, then it almost makes sense to have desi!Sephiroth be attributed to birds, maybe specifically the garuda, not because of the wings but because most indian cultures consider snakes and birds to be enemies. Nagas and snakes were thought to reside within the underworld (and the original Nibelheim is the land of the dead); and birds, specifically eagles and the garuda, have been associated with the gods, which ties into Sephiroth pursuing godhood for most of the game.

And that little tidbit of snakes being protectors of water sources? hmm. I can see Cloud regularly visiting Aerith, him as the guardian of her grave and her gift to the world.

so. yeah, I have no idea what the purpose of snakes are in this picture. Cloud bound by fate? holding himself back from forgiveness, from growth? hmm. much to think about it

START ID: A piece focused on Cloud Strife from Final Fantasy 7, who stands in the centre of the image. A black backdrop, with green wisps and tessellating textures over it. Cloud stands in front, hands clasps in prayer, similar to Aerith Gainsborough's iconic prayer pose; he is staring at the viewers with an absent gaze. He is awash with green light, his right eye is glowing an eerie shade of green and has a vertical slit pupil, and the left side of his face is covered in blood. His SOLDIER uniform has south Asian influences, notably in the design of the pauldrons, arm guards and belt. Wrapping around his head and neck is a snake, which rears its head over his hair and covers Cloud's left eye with its coils. Around his clasped hands is another snake, looping around his wrists like rope. Around Cloud in the foreground are small, tiny green sparks, floating aimlessly to the side. The overall piece radiates a foreboding, desolate atmosphere. /END ID.

[nightcolorz]

thoughts on the presence of marius’ painting in dubai in the show? ive been thinking about this since episode 7 aired because louis threw a bowl of blood at a painting in one scene which wasn’t marius’, yet made me think it should have been. but its interesting that its there at all? of course they’re art collectors and dealers in 2022 but god. i feel like the painting might end up being a chekov’s gun. it cant be there for nothing, right?

(also the scene of “rashid” armand in s1 telling daniel about it keeps coming back. how did he FEEL about that especially if daniel is indeed someone he loves and has loved for years)

AHHH OMG!!! LOVE THIS QUESTION!! I’ve been thinking about this constantly since s1, which believe it or not spurned some theories about Armand’s relationship with Louis that ended up being surprisingly accurate 😭. I can’t tell u how many times I rewatched the Rashid-mand tells Daniel about marius’s painting scene before s2 aired (definitely more than any other scene in the first season 💀💀). Ughhh!! omg!! U r so right 😭😭 the painting Louis threw the blood at should have been Marius’s. The thematic implications!!! The impact!! The way Armand would feel!! It’s making me crazy thinking about it

I speculate that Armand is trying to seek out and reclaim as many of Marius’s painting as possible. I imagine that Armand acquired the painting in the dining room by searching intently for any paintings of Marius’s that survived the fire. Part of him likely feels entitled to them. Legally he’s just Marius’s slave, but the way he sees it it’s so much deeper than that. Marius is his father, his husband. He should be given his possessions, his works of art, after he’s died. And I think the fact that Armand, by both historical records, and by anyone he knows, will always be viewed as Marius’s slave, his victim, before he is Marius’s closest loved one, feels disempowering and invalidating. Technically, if they weren’t vampires and legal consideration was given to who Marius’s possessions should be given to after his death, as a slave Armand likely wouldn’t be considered. But, Armand believes that because of the role Marius had in his life, he is rightfully owed that inheritance. And the symbolic value of that fact is important to him.

I think sometimes the show fandom doesn’t realize how attached to Marius Armand actually is 😭. If they’re going by the books, Armand is longing for Marius and for Venice. Marius is the love of his life the same way Lestat is the love of Louis’s life (maybe even more so considering he’s not just his lover but his father 😭 Marius played every major role in Armand’s life, he was his father, his lover, his maker and his god). Armand is stuck on him, he is always longing for him, never able to move on. So I think for Armand owning paintings of Marius’s is partly an assertion and a reclamation of the way he perceives his relationship with him. By owning them and displaying them on his wall, not only is he allowing himself to live with a comforting reminder of Venice (which I’ll get to), but hes also asserting that Marius loved him, and he was important to Marius, and he deserves to and is entitled to owning his paintings after Marius has died because he is the person who these things should go to, he is displaying that he is the most important person to Marius, that he is the person who would be in his will.

on the Venice note, Armand is also indulging in a small little fantasy by putting Marius’s paintings on his wall. He lived with those paintings, his father likely painted them while he was in the room. He saw them in the halls in the palazzo, maybe even in his lavish old dining room. In the books Venice was and continues to be Armand’s perceived “best part of his life”. Venice was his childhood, the only time in his life he remembers being taken care of, well fed, spoiled, loved. And from our perspective it was horrible, he was being sexually abused and beaten regularly, literally pimped out and enslaved. But think about how Armand told his story to Louis, he was smiling wistfully, longing despite it all. And I think even in Dubai Armand misses Venice, feels comforted by the memory of it. So it makes sense that he would hang Marius’s painting on the wall, as a small comfort, so that maybe sometimes he can stare at it and picture he is back there, in his master’s studio, basking in the sunlight, loved.

The scene where Armand as Rashid shows the painting to Daniel is so so loaded. Daniel initiates the conversation, but Armand definitely indulges in it more than he needs to. That scene is the first time we rlly see Armand using his Rashid persona to tap into his past. He says, “I serve a God, it’s my honor to serve” which is fucking weird 😭 and no one but Armand would say that (real rashid wouldn’t💀 he definitely sees the vampires in a way that is more grounded and empathy based then god like). He’s clearly tapping into how he felt as Amadeo, a servant to Marius, rather than playing his part. It seems like Daniels interest in the painting and him talking about + bringing attention to it brought Armand back to that Venice mindset in a way. Even with this, he’s definitely pushing Daniel away, trying to change the topic as quickly as possible while remaining in character. Which makes me think that Armand wasn’t happy at the prospect of being so vulnerable with Daniel so soon. The impression I get (especially from season one) is that despite his past and current love for him, Armand sees a different person in old Daniel, and is very hesitant to open himself up to him. Considering how different (and mean) he is, and how painful and loaded their past was, it’s a very hard thing for Armand to approach, and it doesn’t seem currently on his agenda.

What I rlly am curious about is how Louis feels about Armand keeping Marius’s paintings in their home, displaying them on their wall. I imagine it would be uncomfortable for him, if not upsetting, in a similar way to how Armand feels about the presence of ghost Lestat, if not more complicated with the layer of how extremely abusive Marius was. But how can Louis judge? Who is he to give push back on smth like this when he is still actively hallucinating his dead, abusive ex husband 😭🙏there’s a lot going on there.

I rlly hope this painting thing gets explored in depth bcus omg I can not stop thinking about it either. Thank u SO MUCH for the ask I love this topic so much omg!!! Hope my response scratches the painting itch in ur brain<3

[localplaguenurse]

I am just nosy, forgive me. Can you describe each one of your mutuals?

Buckle up people and prepare to get complimented >:3c

First and foremost, they’re all absolute sweethearts to me.

There are my irl friends, such as @wretchedshade, @granolabird, @siriuscitrus and @scales-of-stardust or beta as I usually refer to them. I share the same braincell with these people.

Wretchedshade has been my best friend since we were ten, we’ve been there for each other for 11 years. I initially got her into anime, and then she got me into jojo, and every once in a while we cry about Doukyuusei again. She’s a great artist and is really good at writing sad shit, which is why I write sad shit; to have the glory of finally making her cry. She kicked cancer’s teeth in a few months ago so it’s about goddamn time something good come her way and I WILL fight someone on that.

Granolabird is the dm for my dnd campaign, and like I said, absolute sweetheart, chaotic adhd haver (actually like most of my friend group is like this lmao we’re all queer and neurodivergent). Either way, we used to share thoughts on each other’s original stories, and we still do sometimes but it’s mostly just sending each other tiktoks/reels like “this you” or “this your oc.”

Siriuscitrus is usually pretty hyper, but also tries to be v considerate of everyone’s feelings. If you said that the McDonald’s employee put pickles on your burger when you said no, they’d probably be the one to tell them. They’re also scarily good at vibechecking people and told me I give “future he/they vibes” and like a week later I said “fuck you’re right oh my god.”

You’ve probably seen me and beta’s interactions on here or in the ao3 comments. We enjoy our like playful rivalry/enemyship. I like to torment tease her and she usually gets me back pretty good, it’s all in good fun. It’s also really funny to me whenever we meet up, I tell myself “you are friends with them for reasons other than fic so do not make it about fic” and then we’ll spend literally hours talking about and brainstorming fic ideas. It just Happens.

I’m also gonna add @memory-mortis into here because while we’ve not met irl I’ve introduced him to my friend group. Yet another sweetheart, love her art style a lot, and she was one of the first comments I got on ginkgo trees to motivate me to keep going. I was kinda worried about bringing him into my friendgroup because like if I’m not overthinking I am not thinking At All. I was super relieved and happy that she like IMMEDIATELY fit in with everyone so :D

For some of my other close but only on tumblr/ao3/outside my general friendgroup mutuals! (There are too many so I’m sorry if you’re not here it’s mostly people I interact with more regularly ;-;)

@crimson-ashes who I have occasionally with absolute love called my “askbox gremlin” because they live in my inbox. I need to stress this is affectionate because genuinely, I love opening tumblr and seeing I’ve got asks from them. They gotta stop posting Astarion though because I’m feeling So Tempted to play BG but I know my laptop would kill itself (joking).

@crystalflygeo and I know I’ve called everyone sweethearts but genuinely, she’s probably one of the sweetest people I’ve had the pleasure of talking to. She’s really wholesome (unlike her writing which is never gonna be a complaint in my book, good soup) and super supportive of other people.

@madamemachikonew who’s super polite and really kind. She’s also really creative/smart when it comes to referencing real world art and philosophy in her writing and integrating it into her own worldbuilding. I would have never thought to have done that, and it makes her writing very unique!

We don’t interact as much but @probably-doesnt-exist, @ethve, @euniveve and @ainescribe are such talented artists and super sweet, have literally made me screech and cackle with utter joy whenever they draw the characters from ginkgo trees. I rotate through which art becomes my phone’s lock/home screens.

This is long af but fuck it, I wanna brighten people’s days and I told myself to say “I love you” to my friends and family more, so consider this one big “I love you!” to y’all. It’s a pleasure talking to y’all!

[howdoesagrapewrites]

f&b ocs? 🤨

Someone asked for my ocs 🥺

Yess, so I have three main ones but I'll just feature two in this ask:

Cw: mentions of grooming, targcest, there's like one line about corpses, Maegor Targaryen is his own fucking warning

-Maelor Targaryen: originally called Maegor II, but I discarded it. He's Maegor and Tyanna's only child. In this 'universe' Maegor is not infertile, meaning Maelor is not first on the succession line, and is Maegor's least favorite child due to Tyanna being his mother (she poisoned Alys like in canon, but it just made her lose a babe instead of dying. Maegor was going to execute her, but at the time she was pregnant, and Maegor being the man he is, would not let a possible spare die.) And because he's not a warrior as much as a strategist. He learned the art of herbalism and poisoning through his mother (another reason his father looks down on him, poison being a woman's weapon).

He's lean, has mostly the classic Targaryen look (beautiful, angular features, yk) and his most recognizable trait is that he has a streak of black in his silver-gold hair.

At first glance he's just male!Tyanna, but is actually deeply vulnerable and paranoid, meaning his intelligence does not save him from making grave mistakes in his quest for the throne. Being raised almost solely by Tyanna, who (affectionately) is a horrible person and mother, he is mostly just a few steps away from Targaryen madness at every turn, he is keeping a cunning and cold-hearted facade all the time and the pressure that puts on him makes him have outbursts. He is another male Targaryen part of the "I was not born my brother's sister-wife and I will make it everyones problem" gang.

-Maelys Targaryen: originally called Maegha, but I thought it was too obvious, so I just kept the "Mae" prefix. Visenya and Aegon's only natural child (I cling to the theory that Maegor is a product of blood magic) and was born in the 22nd year after the conquest. She was very sickly and born at a time when everyone had their lives put together, so her birth is celebrated for a while, then no one cares anymore, lol.

Also, her being very sickly means that even if no one said it, the very real chance of her not surviving infancy was known and taken into consideration. Unfortunately for Maelys she did not die in childhood meaning what lays ahead is not exactly pleasant.

Her personality is quiet and sometimes crass. She can be disrespectful but not on purpose (autism), and since she is not very good at identifying when she oversteps, prefers to keep quiet and isolate herself. Her voluntary isolation stems from a lonely childhood, so she gets overwhelmed and sometimes snappy when a lot of people (especially strangers) interact with her at the same time. She has this uncanny vibe around her and like Maegor has a fixation for violence, she does for dead things (already dead animals and corpses, she doesn't harm them, she likes to investigate them, had she not been born in the circumstances she is in, she would have became a silent sister.)

Visenya had a very clear preference for Maegor, even naming her daughter to match with him. In childhood, Maegor was taken with the idea of a sister-wife, but it was purely out of objetification.

Then it branches from what I call "canon" and "fanon" Maelys. Canon Maelys is my honest, non-sugarcoated interpretation of how these characters would have behaved, fanon Maelys is me being cringe and free and imagining things as more appealing.

Fanon!Maelys' relationship with Visenya is better, she actually sees her daughter as a person and tries to understand her, but sadly still has a Targaryen mindset that sisters "belong" or "are for" their brothers.

Fanon!Maelys relationship with Maegor is more affectionate but still very twisted and... very him. He holds some kind of affection for Maelys but is because she does too, fanon!Maelys grew up hearing she'd marry him so she got comfortable with the idea, she doesn't think is that bad at all, her brother is nice to her, and he cares for her (supposedly) and being raised around Visenya of course "keeping the bloodline pure" counts as a pro fucking weirdos.

Maegor is obssesed, or rather fixated on her, on the only person who 'understands him' because she grew in similar circumstances. He is strangely affectionatte once they are married, and when he gradually becomes more and more paranoid and loses his mother, he clings to her like a lifeline. This is very unhealthy, but both of them think they're very happy, so love is love ig

Now for canon!Maelys, Visenya resents that she can't be the perfect wife for Maegor, reflecting a lot of her insecurities about her own marriage to Aegon onto her. And though at childhood, Maegor is very excited about her existence. This fades and soon becomes mild distate when she develops her own personality.

Canon!Maelys feels completely alone in the world, and often disassociates, her emotions are very easy to handle because she's practically numb most of the times.

Aenys really tried to be a good brother, but they never connected, and at this point he is a father so of course he prefers doing his fatherly duties than keep trying to bond with his odd sister. Despite this, Aenys is probably who Maelys appreciates the most.

[evelhak]

Old art #18: Self portrait

Lol I found this one I had made for my DeviantArt profile in I'm guessing 2011, so I was probably 17. I was not that cute. Arina Tanemura was in my head. (Can you tell how much I had been reading Shinshi Doumei Cross, just by looking at that hair and face? Wasn't that some manga, huh. Would certainly spark... conversations these days. But even looking back, there were a few things that were quite captivating and great about it.)

Meet my whole cat gang. If you've been here a while, you already know Bell, she's the grey one. A little princess with two braincells and a bottomless stomach. Eats literally like a snake, without chewing. She's the pinnacle of self-centredness which she gets away with because she's just so dumb. Also very loud and fond of crocodile tears. Really, the complete lack of self-awareness is impressive. The way she walks through life sticking her butt and puke exactly where she pleases at any time she pleases reminds me of the people I was always kinda jealous of. The ones who can be as unapologetically annoying, shallow, selfish and boasty as they want and most people still love them. Probably because they are very pretty and perceived to be too stupid to be held accountable for their lack of consideration of others. Bell is also so pretty everyone compliments her face, her bones, her colour and the pattern of her fur. My drawing really doesn't do her much justice. Her beauty is very superficial and decreases significantly as soon as she moves or opens her mouth, because she just looks that dumb doing anything. But alas, I love her.

Then we have Aatu, the black one, who is Bell's kitten actually. Still small in this picture but he grew up looking a lot like his dad who was a neighbourhood cat and the biggest one I had ever seen. Very hairy, clearly some Norwegian forest cat in him. Aatu ran away when he was two, but I think in truth he just got hit by a car or eaten by a fox because he had zero self-preservation instinct and half a braincell. He went towards all animals and cars in oblivious curiosity as they approached him. He was attracted to the vacuum cleaner when it was on. He was literally not scared of anything. He thought he was a dog, an owl, a cow, and also human. He loved when you made him slide across the floor. He loved to be dragged around and ruffled in all ways. He didn't know how to hiss, growl or make any type of angry or dissatisfied sound. He was very, very happy. Apparently too happy and unbothered by anything to survive.

Then there's Nöpö, the big one. He died a few years ago at 17. He was our first cat. Braincell count would compare to a human. Very sensitive, very angry, dominating but also gentle, intelligent, pessimistic and depressed. The look of his build resembled that of a lot bigger wild cats, especially when he hunted. He wanted his own space, didn't enjoy people initiating touch, he would come to you instead when he wanted it. He was always like that but it got worse when Bell came into the house and was her charming self. Nöpö's nervous system clearly couldn't handle sharing his territory and had I been able to anticipate it, I wouldn't have taken Bell. Nöpö did everything with so much more care and attention. He needed time and space, he wouldn't even be able to eat with Bell, because she gulped everything down while Nöpö chewed each bite with care, and nothing would be left for him because Bell has no concept of moderation. So Nöpö would always need to be fed in a closed room. He would attack people and other cats frequently because he just had a very strong hunting instinct ever since he was born and didn't like anyone too close unless he asked for it. But he was also very cuddly when he wanted to be, and he didn't want his people to go too far away. He would come crying after me every time I went to get mail. Classic example of "Leave me alone, no wait, where are you going??" I miss that grumpy old guy.

This wasn't supposed to be about cats but there you go.

[dreamwreaver]

Hey, I know you’re probably not in the fandom anymore but I really, really need you to know just how amazing you are. Since I got into the beetlejuice fandom recently I came across your works on ao3 and I actually genuinely will never be the same again. Yes, there are others who write beetlebabes, but your works are somehow so unique, the tone and setting of your fanfics is something I fail to find in other fanfics and the way write both Lydia and Beetlejuice seems so human, so vivid, something about it makes it so easy to slip yourselves into either of their shoes, feel whatever they’re feeling, and it’s such an amazing thing you’ve done. You have no idea how many nights I’ve stayed up till 5am squealing at your fanfics because the sexual tension and everything else seemed so tangible, it made me feel so many things I can’t even begin to explain.

I’m the type of fanfic consumer who writes what they can’t find and since I’ve finished just about all your works in Beetlejuice, I’ve tried to write my own fanfics for Beetlejuice but for the first time, for some reason it’s hard to write what I want to while keeping in line with what I think Lydia’s and Beetlejuice’s reactions would be to the situations I put them in, does that make sense? And I go back to your fanfics to try and get an idea of what I want out of my works, and I’m still working on it to this day.

But anyway, I just wanted to gush about how amazing your works have been, and I know you’re probably not into Beetlejuice anymore, but I just want you to know you’ve changed me through your fanfics, it’s become part of my daily routine and I just thought you ought to know how talented you are as a writer. I have never been this invested in anyone’s fanfics before, which is why it’s special to me and why I really wanted to write this to you to thank you. I don’t expect you to write for beetlejuice anymore or anything like that, I just really, really wanted to thank you from the bottom of my heart.

I’m into Hazbin Hotel too, if you ever wanna talk about other things. Once again, I love you, and thank you for writing so many works in Beetlejuice to keep me going. You have no idea how much it means to me. If you ever need me or wanna keep in touch, reply to this, I’ll be following your posts <3

Oh man, where do I begin to respond to this? I'm gonna be honest Nonny, I was fighting back tears and had a huge grin while reading this. And this is also why it's been sitting in my inbox. I wanted to give this ask the care and consideration you obviously gave me while writing this. I suppose the most simple thing to say is; thank you.

Thank you for your kind words and thank you for loving my work. It's always a pleasure to know something I wrote even as recently as a month ago has made an impact on someone, let alone something written years ago. As far as Beetlejuice goes; I'm not as active in terms of content creation but it's not as though I've left the fandom entirely. I occasionally check the tags here on tumblr but most of the people making content I get excited about I tend to chat with on other platforms like discord. There's quite a few active Beetlejuice servers on there, it's just a matter of finding the right fit for you.

I do love Hazbin Hotel, but I'm not as vocal in the fandom because the chalastor antis have been especially virulent as of late and I learned my lesson about burn out from Beetlejuice. Baiting and hating on them does nothing, so I tend to gripe about the more stupid ones and then I laugh and move on. To be quite honest I haven't been writing much because I moved and my setup isn't put back together yet. I try but unfortunately it is frowned upon to write fanfic at work lol.

Feel free to follow my posts, it's usually just me reblogging funny nonsense or cool art. I have a list a problematic ships a mile wide so hang on, you might find something else you're into haha.

[yanderechuu]

do any of the teachers ever notice the things happening to y/n? (i headcannon Mic and Midnight as yanderes that would give advice to 1A lol)

yandere!Class 1A x fem!reader

[2.1K]

Summary: Aizawa is the first one you approached in regards to your certain predicament.

Warning: nonconsensual recording

│

Aizawa suspected something wasn’t quite right by the moment he saw you entering the class a minute before the bell rang, all haggard and teary-eyed, though you tried your best to obscure your disposition. He always knew you to often be in a state of discomfort whenever you were compelled to socialize, especially with your classmates, but now - you looked as if you reached your limit of holding the weight of the world on your shoulders, crashing down all at once as depicted on your crestfallen expression. 

And when you showed up in front of the faculty room, timidly soliciting his presence, his suspicions were only further verified. Even with a pending question regarding subject matters in your mind, you weren’t one to approach a teacher to inquire about it, and if you did it was because the teacher was the one who would ask your attendance; never the other way around.

Present Mic was the first one to acknowledge you. He stood up from his office chair, waving at you comically. “Yo, (l/n)! Having trouble with English again?”

You never had a problem with his subject; he only insisted that you’d come to him in regards to that. “N-no, not really. May I speak to Aizawa-sensei?”

“Talk with me instead!” He enthusiastically spoke and headed over to you. “Come on, what’s the matter?”

“It isn’t your place to ask that when I’m here.” Aizawa interceded, clearly unimpressed by Mic’s antics. He failed to see the latter’s displeased countenance. “(L/n), what is it?”

You avoided eye contact with him, averting your view to the ground - that was alright. You were always like this, and he didn’t mind. Nothing out of place except for the fact that it looked as if you were about to cry any moment now.

“Can we- can we, um, talk somewhere more private?” You asked quietly.

His brows raised in wonder at your request. Nevertheless, he didn’t decline you, only nodding lackadaisically before heading towards the teacher’s lounge, where you followed him suit. He flicked the door tag to ‘occupied’ and entered the room after you, when he told you sit on the three-person sofa situated not quite on the farthest left of the space. Then, he settled himself on the chair across you.

“Well?” He asked, expectantly.

But you had once again your head above a thick cloud of anxiety. You knew that after the event with Momo in the girls’ locker room - where you had injured her against your will because she had been violating your personal space - your homeroom teacher kept a cautious eye on you in case you’d re-enact that incident. And it wasn’t just that incident that made him look at you like you were a criminal on the loose, either. Your classmates found and did a lot of ways to place you in Aizawa’s naughty list just so you wouldn’t snitch on their abusive (they’d call it affectionate) behavior on you.

That didn’t erase the fact that you were nevertheless his student; he cared for you no less than he cared for his other pupils, yet you were just too ignorant in figuring that out. All that mattered to you was that you’d voice out your current concern to him, but with your insecurities holding you down it seemed it would be more difficult than you had primarily foreseen it to be.

“I-I,” you stammered out, fiddling with something inside your pocket, “u-um, you see, t-there’s this, I mean, I can’t-”

He grew increasingly frustrated with your constant stuttering, and although he did understand your shy nature which largely affected your conversational habits, he only had so much patience to deal with it.

“I don’t have all day.” He stated, glowering at your form in mild irritation. “If you’re going to keep doing that, talk to the wall.”

You abruptly halted in speaking after that, only looking down on your lap, staring wide-eyed, grief-stricken at the revelation that perhaps he really did not want to heed any of your words because you were just that bad of a student that he had decided you were not worth much the effort to concern himself with. And maybe he was right - that your words didn’t matter because you didn’t matter; that there were more affairs he better be tending to than yours; that you were only making a big deal out of this when it truthfully wasn’t.

Oh god, you felt like vomiting. Self-deprecation was getting the better of you.

He stood up and sauntered to the exit, not bothering to spare you a glance. “Come back to me when you actually know what you want to say.”

It was a matter of seconds when you ran to him, pulling him back rather harshly by the grip you had on his sleeve. He turned around due to the force to see your head still hung low, avoiding his gaze as always - only, your shoulders were quivering sporadically, and occasional sniffs were heard from your person.

“P-please, sensei...” you voiced out, shaken and horrifyingly delicate. “I-I’m so scared. Please.”

While he looked at you with contracted irises, countenance now alert from your unexpected disposition, you pulled your trembling hand out of your skirt pocket, nervously disclosing to him from your palm a small, black device with a tiny yet prominent lens.

“M-my room,” you heaved, “I-I saw this i-in my room, m-my closet, while- while I was dressing up, and I don’t know how long it had been in there but it probably already caught me bare and-”

You broke down in a flurry misery and shame, allowing yourself to fall to the ground but you didn’t - Aizawa seized you in his arms, his gentle, fatherly arms that could only do so much to console you from the horror of your reality. And he held your head as you cried on his chest, one little thing he could do after ignoring your situation and letting you think that your significance was less than the rest of his other students. At that moment, you were just so little, so fragile, so naïve he’d keep you in his pocket if he could. Why would someone do something as debauched as illegally recording your innocent self?

“I’m sor-sorry,” you sobbed, “I’m really telling the truth, p-please-”

“Shh, it’s okay. I don’t doubt you.” He reassured. Why were you apologizing? Were you that insecure of being a nuisance? No, no, you never were. Not to him. He reached for your hand to take the cursed device. “Since when did you find out?”

“J-just this morning.” You responded.

“Alright. Do you want to rest? This must have taken a huge toll on you.”

But you still had classes ongoing. Then again, you didn’t feel like looking at the faces of the prime suspects who possibly did you dirty, even when you knew that you’d have to eventually interact with them to get notes of your missed lessons. You were so tired from summoning the lot of your courage to confront your teacher regarding your problem, so you probably wouldn’t have the energy to listen to class discussion. Aizawa finalized your decision by pulling you up and guiding you towards the office of Recovery Girl who, after being briefed of your predicament by your homeroom teacher, welcomed you with a warm smile, telling you to make yourself comfortable in one of the beds in the infirmary.

He then made his way to 1A classroom, a newfound swelling of rage and disappointment in his chest, both forwarded to his class and to himself because only now did he realize that perhaps you were often so restless and apprehensive in the presence of your classmates because they did things that made you bury yourself in the deepest parts of your shell as a last attempt to revel in a sense of safety. Your timidity was not entirely derived from your own nature; it was also due to the maltreatment you were receiving from your classmates. Halting his steps by the classroom door, he looked through the glass window, seeing the class focusing on Midnight’s lecture.

Well, not quite. He could tell that your classmates were visibly affected by the lack of your presence, glancing at your desk from time to time as quiz papers were being passed behind - so they were in the middle of a test, he guessed. But that wasn’t his concern.

In impudent manner, he walked in amid Midnight’s talking, disregarding her face’s sudden morphing into vexation as the students gave him a look of confusion.

“Eraser, what are you-” she was rudely interrupted as Aizawa took the test reference papers from her hands. Something about Modern Hero Art History, he read. He faced his class with disdain, stating,

“Until someone confesses their crime of hiding a spy camera on (l/n)’s dorm room, all of you are receiving failing marks on this test.”

Quite suddenly, the class burst into violent upheaval, gasping, perking, some allowing the dreadful news of your situation to sink in, others letting out noises of complaint before actually taking consideration to the main point of Aizawa’s statement. Midnight stared at him in disbelief, but did nothing to stop his measures.

Momo abruptly stood. “I-is (y/n) okay? We should go check on her!”

“No, you shouldn’t.” Aizawa said. “All of you are suspects. You’ve no right to see her.”

“She probably just made that up get back on us for whatever fucking reason!” Yelled Bakugou.

“Yeah?” The male pro-hero disingenuously mused. He then picked up the spy camera and held it for everyone to see, before setting it down the teacher’s podium. “This was found on her closet. Would she risk recording herself naked just to prove that point?”

Noise died down thereafter, setting their sights solemnly at the device, the class collectively having the same thought in regards to the spy camera.

(Why hadn’t they thought of that? It could have been easier to check on you that way, since you almost always confined yourself in the privacy of your own room.)

“So? No one wants to speak up?” Aizawa asked, though expected the silence.

“Aizawa, have them approach you after classes. It’s embarrassing this way.” Midnight intervened.

“Well that’s the point. Get them exposed to the entire class, so everyone could realize how much of a perverted bastard one of these to-be heroes are. Good values, my ass.” He replied, not bothering to filter rather colorful vocabulary. “Where’s your dignity?”

He let a minute or two pass for the perpetrator to reveal themselves, but soon it became apparent that whomever they were refused to admit to their crime, willing to sacrifice the grades of the class for the sake of anonymity. That would be deemed useless, anyway, because Aizawa was already set on figuring out whom they were, no matter the extent he’d go to in order for that to happen. He’d expel them at once.

But he didn’t have the power to expel someone outside of his class.

“I guess that’s it for your test.” He sighed, disgruntled, picking up the small camera and sauntering his way out of the classroom after giving Midnight a look that he was dead serious with marking all of them a failing score. She stared at him in uncertainty, nonetheless abided by his decisions, albeit hesitantly.

Upon ascertaining his absence, Midnight turned to Class 1A, amusement and humor dancing on her seductive countenance.

“Naïve, hormonal teenagers,” she mused, “the closet, really? Couldn’t you have chosen somewhere less conspicuous?”

None of them bothered to tell her that they were truthfully unaware of the incident.

===

Hagakure Toru, stealth hero, entered your room silently in the nude, the only proof of her movements being a tinier, different spy camera she’d brought along with her. No, not the closet, you might find it again. It looked so painfully obvious on the desk, too, and neither in the bathroom due to its pale white interior. 

But on the pencil holder situated atop your nightstand would do. You barely moved it, anyway, only having its purpose served as a decoration; something to fill the vacancy of the bedside table. After a few adjustments in camouflaging the device with the environment and making sure the lens displayed the area of your space, Hagakure checked its concealment one more time, before mechanically heading outside and back to her own dorm. 

Her body collided almost violently with her room’s door, snapping her out of her trance. 

“H-huh!? Weird... how’d I end up in my room?” She asked, receiving no answer from particularly anyone.

But Shinso Hitoshi could provide her one, if only he weren’t outside, staring at your terrace from five stories down your room, a gratifying smirk donned on his features. Now, the only thing he had to do was dismantle and relocate the gadgets wirelessly connected with the camera Aizawa had confiscated.

[psychewritesbs]

Chapter 160: How much of Yuji’s life has been orchestrated? + Megumi the stage-five clinger

Happy JJK-Sunday!

If I had to describe chapter 160 with as few words as possible, I would say: Oh f*ck...

My favorite moment was, of course, Megumi acting like a stage-five clinger. His interaction with Yuji in this chapter is especially ominous in light of Yuji being adamant of protecting Megumi from Sukuna.

A second favorite was Sasaki showing up in this chapter because of the implications moving forward.

Let’s jump right in. 

How much of Yuji’s life has been orchestrated by Kenjaku?

We start the chapter with Kenjaku talking to none other than Sasaki, one of the members of the Occult Club at the high school in Sendai that Yuji used to attend.

Of course, the bomb that Gege dropped on us in this chapter is when Kenjaku thanks Sasaki “for getting along with my son”. 

Like... excuse you?

Not only does this 100% confirm that Kenjaku used Yuji’s mother’s body to give birth to him, but this specific moment + some foreshadowing from previous chapters also opens an interesting can of worms about Yuji’s life: just how much of Yuji’s life has Kenjaku orchestrated?

For me, the implication is that Sasaki had an assigned role to play in Yuji’s life that would inevitably lead to him eating Sukuna’s finger. 

I am assuming this because although we don’t see Kenjaku’s interactions with the other people in Sendai, we get to see that, in addition for thanking her for getting along with Yuji, Kenjaku is incredibly kind to Sasaki. We also learn that she’s the only one who has received a special message from him (thanking her).

Ready to make this whole interaction more ominous? Someone pointed out that the kanji in Sasaki’s name means assistant. 

All of this brings us right back to Yuji’s free will--or lack thereof?

We already know that Kenjaku claims he made Yuji “ingest” Sukuna’s finger and that Megumi is rightfully concerned with this idea because he witnessed Yuji eat Sukuna’s finger “of his own free will.”

It’s also becoming increasingly obvious that Yuji was "created” solely for the purpose of becoming Sukuna’s vessel. 

What this new reveal about Sasaki does is that it makes everything feel like certain events have been part of Kenjaku’s master plan all along. While this still feels a little farfetched, it will come down to how Gege works this idea into the story moving forward.

Come to think of it, even Yuji’s grandfather’s dying words to Yuji take on a new meaning since we know Wasuke knew something was definitively up with Yuji’s mother.

Another possible bit of foreshadowing all the way in chapter 1: While the intersection in the second panel below could be ANY intersection in Japan, it sure looks like the Shibuya crossing:

A quick note on the importance of kanji meanings in JJK before moving onto the next section: knowing the meaning of Sasaki’s name tells us that names are important in JJK. If you haven’t, I recommend you read my break down on the meaning of Megumi’s FULL NAME. His first name is important, but so is his last name.

The plans moving forward

Going off to Tokyo Colony #2 are Panda and Hakari. 

As the strongest, Hakari feels like he should take on Hajime. As for Panda, it looks like his focus will be on hunting down Angel.

Side note: I love that Hakari is still calling Megumi names. Guess Senpai can’t help himself.

I must admit I was disappointed to find that Kirara will stay behind to report, but it is what it is. I am assuming Gege could see no use for Kirara and decided to leave the character out of the action for the time being. 

As for Megumi and Yuji, they’ll be heading to Tokyo Colony #1 to target Higuruma, everybody’s new favorite Law & Order boss. 

This brings us to Megumi’s current state of mind...

Megumi the stage-five clinger

I had a hard time coming up with the title for this section because what I see happening is that Megumi is starting to feel the pressure of the looming deadline for Tsumiki joining the Culling Game. What his behavior shows, however, is that he needs Yuji with him and is clinging onto him but won’t come out and say it--opting instead for aggression towards Yuji, the very same person he needs most. 

His behavior reminded me of how Megumi could be mean to Tsumiki even though he clearly adores her. Apparently that’s the meaning of being tsundere. I’ve read about the term tsundere before but it never “clicked” until this moment and I just love Gege’s interpretation of the trope through Megumi’s character. 

It goes without saying that it was REALLY interesting to me to see Megumi’s dynamic and interaction with Yuji in this chapter because it looks like Gege is letting us know Megumi’s state of mind continues to be one of desperation--remember that dogeza bow from chapter 157?

The thing about Megumi is that he looks stoic on the outside, but he’s actually an incredibly emotional person who doesn’t often show how he’s feeling. 

I hadn’t caught on, but in chatting with @justafrenchlondoner​ about the chapter, they pointed out Megumi’s behavior in his dynamic with Yuji appears nervous and aggressive.

Upon a second look I have to agree that Megumi is acting out of character and aggressive with Yuji when all that Yuji really wants is to protect Megumi from Sukuna.

And yes, let me go ahead and sound like a broken record as I remind you of Yuji’s rather ominous words from chapter 143 yet again:

And this is the part of the chapter that knocked the air out of me: Megumi telling Yuji to stfu about Sukuna but Yuji thinking to himself “as long as I’m around you will suffer” back in ch143 is so damn ominous.

Oh f*ck...

But this is what REALLY gets me about this whole interaction and why I’m calling Megumi a stage-five clinger...

Even though Megumi is calling Yuji selfish, in reality, the one being selfish is Megumi.

This is, of course, my own interpretation of the situation, but to me it feels as though Megumi is clinging onto Yuji’s strength for dear life. 

It’s almost like Megumi needs not just Yuji’s physical strength, but also his unwavering conviction or mental strength.

If you think about it, Megumi has only recently started fighting to win. Remember how unsure he was of himself when fighting Sukuna for the first time? It wasn’t until he went up against the Cursed Spirit from the Yasohachi bridge that he let go of his inhibitions.

Megumi’s battles during Shibuya were the pinnacle of his growth as a character in that moment. If I remember correctly, according to the timeline of events, the Shibuya incident happened around two weeks prior to the current chapter. You could say that although he is more comfortable in his strength than before, Megumi is still growing into his strength at this point.

The thing about Megumi is that everybody and their Divine Dog believes in him and sees his potential except for him. As Gojo tells him “you undervalue yourself.”

Looking back, the way Megumi asks begs Yuji for help in chapter 143 is very enlightening of how Megumi needs Yuji’s strength: 

I initially had read this to mean Megumi needed Yuji’s physical strength. Upon second look, however, Megumi has always seemed to have admiration for Yuji’s conviction.

With the looming deadline for Tsumiki’s vow to join the Culling Game, as Megumi starts to feel the pressure to make his plan work, who better to keep around than the person who will always go for the home run and whose strength he admires?

In other words, like hell he’s going to let Yuji leave his side. Which, again, only makes it more heartbreaking to think Sukuna is up to no good regarding Megumi and Yuji wants to protect him from that.

Oh f*ck.......

The panel below feels like a bit of a lighthearted and comical moment, but it’s also interesting to note that this is the second time they “fight”.

The first “fight” having taken place during the Cursed Womb Arc.

If you will remember, Gege used the Cursed Womb Arc and the Origin of Obedience Arc to show us how much our favorite trio had grown. 

Not sure Gege is going to parallel something here again, but just interesting to note.

Oh f*ck...

Ya, please excuse the French.

Despite the many words I’ve shared here, this chapter left me mostly speechless. 

I feel like I’ve been trapped in Gojo’s limitless domain expansion and all I can think is “oh f*ck” or “halloween” (if you catch my drift).

Chapter 160 was incredible because it looks like Gege has finally finished putting all his pieces into place and is ready to go for the kill by: 

Starting to unravel the story bit by bit, giving us all of the twists we both saw and did not see coming, and

Ramping up the stakes. Taking into consideration the estimates that JJK is somewhere around 60-70% done at this point, It’s not a matter of whether some of our beloved characters will die, but about who, when and how they will die

One last detail

I love the last four panels of the chapter showing Panda, Hakari, Yuji and Megumi all wearing their uniforms (barring Panda) and getting ready to become official participants of the Culling Game by entering their respective barriers.

Knowing that Gege is a very talented artist capable of showing and expressing emotions through his art, I feel like these panels tell us a lot about what the characters might be thinking and I thought I’d expand on that. 

Bear in mind this is my personal interpretation as an artist:

Panda looks excited and ready to fight, perhaps even confident. Panda is saying “bring it!” with his body language

There’s a hint of something I can’t describe in Hakari’s face. It’s almost like he’s coming face to face against how big of a challenge this is going to be and yet he’s resolved to walk straight into “the depths of hell itself”

Yuji looks focused, determined to go in and give it his best no matter what comes his way--that’s just who he is

And then there’s Megumi. I’ve been drawing Megumi recently, and one thing I noticed is that he has very specific micro-expressions. In his panel, he’s warming up his wrists as though he’s getting ready to fight, he has a focused look on his face, but the shadows around his eyes say he might be feeling like he is carrying the heavy burden of the uncertainty surrounding the situation he’s going through

With all that being said... the Culling Game is officially starting and we’re in for a one-way ride straight to hell.

Thank you for reading and happy JJK-Sunday!

What about you? What did you enjoy most about chapter 160?

[slasherhaven]

Can I make a request with the slashers(whoever you would like)who has a s/o who doesn’t know what they do so when they catch them in the act, the s/o reaction to it is scared and they want to or try to leave the slashers. (If that makes since)

The Slashers’ S/O finding out about what they do:

Thomas Hewitt

You had known Thomas for a while now. When he worked at the meat processing plant. He was quiet, kept to himself, but he was sweet. The sweetest man you had met in that place.

The two of you became close, you started dating.

Then the factory closed, most people moved out of town. You were trying to stay but it was getting difficult. 

But the Hewitts stayed and you visited Thomas everyday. Luda May loved you and you loved her, thinking of her as a mother figure.

You loved Thomas and he loved you, more than anything.

You visited everyday, and today it seemed that nobody was home. But the door was open so you just let yourself in, knowing nobody would mind.

You called for Thomas but got no response. But you heard a sound in the basement.

Maybe he was doing some repairs or something down there? You just shrugged and headed down the stairs.

You froze at the bottom of the stairs.

There Thomas was, the man you loved, hacking up a body, reminding you of his time at the factory...but much more disturbing.

The stair creaked as you shifted, catching Thomas’ attention.

He turned, expecting Hoyt or Luda May but he saw you and froze.

“Tommy...”

You looked between him and the body of a young man before coming to your senses, darting back up the stairs and out of the house.

Thomas followed behind you. He wanted to explain...to beg for forgiveness...or do something.

He stopped at the front door, watching you cry as you climbed into your car and drove off.

Hoyt would have told him to go after you, you were a witness, he had to stop you. But Thomas stayed in the door way, tears staining his cheeks as he watched you leave. He let you go.

You were the best thing that ever happened to him, the only person to show him kindness and love. You made him feel like he might actually deserve love, somebody as good as you, but he didn’t. Of course he didn’t.

And he didn’t blame you for running.

He’s glad you did. He’d miss you more than anything, he would always love you, but a part of him is glad that you ran.

You deserved better than this, better than him.

You didn’t deserve to be dragged into this. 

He wasn’t mad at you, just distraught that he didn’t get one more chance to tell you that he loved you, to hear you say that you loved him, before you left.

You decided that this would be a very good time to finally get out of time. For good.

You just didn’t know how Thomas was capable of this. He was always so sweet, kind, and considerate. Despite his size, he was incredibly gentle whenever he touched you, with everything he did. 

You would never have guessed that he could hurt somebody, kill somebody and then...chop them up?

You wiped your tears as you drove home. Planning on grabbing your stuff before heading out just like the rest of the town had. They had it right this whole time...

Bo Sinclair

Keeping someone oblivious to the sinister truth of the town was difficult but Bo would be damned if he didn’t try his hardest to keep you away from it. You were the only person who could calm him down, the only person who had such a soothing effect on him and accepted him for who he was. He didn’t want you to find out.

But it was only matter of time and it happened in the worst way possible, you saw him kill somebody.

He hadn’t even noticed you until he stood up and turned to you, seeing you frozen to the spot, eyes wide in fear.

“Sweetheart, listen to me. We’re alright, you don’t need to freak out” Bo held his hands out to his sides, like he was trying to show you that he wasn’t going to hurt you.

“Freak out?! Bo you just-you killed him!” you exclaimed, completely horrified.

“There’s so much you don’t know” he told you, making you even more confused. Had he does this before? What else had he been hiding from you?

“Let’s just go back to the house, forget all about this” he suggested, walking up to you.

“...he was a nice kid...even apologised for cussing in front of me...he wouldn’t have hurt you and you-you killed him” you shook your head, taking steps backwards to keep your distance from the man you loved. 

“Come on” Bo muttered, grabbing your arm firmly but not hard enough to hurt, before pulling you back up to the house.

You fought against him, nervous to even be around him.

“What about him? What are you going to do with him?” you asked, glancing back at where the body lay but it was soon out of sight.

“Vincent will deal with it” Bo assured you.

“Vincent? What the hell is going on, Bo?!” you looked back to him with wide eyes. Vincent wouldn’t hurt anyone...right? 

Soon enough, you were back in the house. You wanted to give Bo the benefit of the doubt, maybe the man attacked him? You doubted it but it could have happened...

But those hopes where smashed when Bo told you the truth about everything, seemingly mad at himself.

“You mean...the figures...oh god” the horror on your face make Bo’s stomach tighten in the most unpleasant way. 

You were mortified by the truth, scared of what happened here, scared of him.

“I...I’ve got to go” you mumbled, like you were in a daze, but all you knew was that you needed to get out of the town.

“Oh yeah? Where are you going to go?” Bo snapped slightly, his anger at you wanting to leave him getting the better of him for a moment.

“I’ll figure it out” you didn’t know, you didn’t care. You just had to get away from all of this.

“Y/n, you’re smarter than this. Now that you know about all this...we can’t let you leave” he told you. That was exactly what you were worried about.

“Bo...please...” you pleaded, tears streaming down your cheeks.

“I’m not going to hurt you” Bo promised but how could you take his word for anything any more.

“Then let me go” you begged.

“I can’t” he shook his head.

You made a rush for the door but Bo quickly caught you, his heart aching when you screamed out.

But he tried to shush you, tried to sooth you. Holding you against his chest tightly.

Eventually your body stopped fighting and you went limp in his hold, crying into his chest as he held you, one hand stroking your hair.

Everything had changed, nothing would be the same again. You were the one person who hadn’t treated him like some sort of monster or nuisance. You loved him, cared for him, and now you might never do that again. 

But he couldn’t risk you leaving and telling people about the town, he just couldn’t.

Vincent Sinclair 

How he had managed to hide the dark truth about the town from you, Vincent had no idea.

He felt awful for lying to you but you came here during a hard time in your life, found a home here...you had treated him with so much love and kindness.

He loved you so much and you loved him dearly. So, he wanted to keep that a secret from you, to protect you from the awful things he and his brothers did.

But you found out...in the worst way he could imagine. He hadn’t locked the door to his workroom, and you wanted skipped right down the stairs.

You expected to find the man you loved working on his next piece of art, not covering a living human being with wax. By the time you got there, it was too late to stop the process.

“Vincent?” you spoke before you could think. 

Despite being horrified, you couldn’t bring yourself to be completely scared of him. You thought you had known him so well, that he was the gentlest man you had ever met. He was so sweet, gentle, considerate, loving, timid...how could he hurt somebody like this?

Vincent quickly turned to you, completely mortified that you had seen any of this.

You couldn’t stand the sight, it was disgusting and not something you would quickly forget, so you quickly made your way back up the stairs.

Vincent hurried behind you. He wouldn’t grab you and he’d try not to scare you anymore but he couldn’t just let you run off. He hoped that there was some way you could forgive him for all of this...but he knew it was unlikely.

You had just left the house as Bo climbed out of his truck. It only took one look at your scared, teary expression to know what was going on.

It was Bo that physically caught you, asking what was wrong. But you tried to get out of his hold, knowing that whatever was going on here had to involve all of the brothers. 

When Vincent hurried out of the house, seeing you and Bo, he headed over. He placed a hand on your shoulder, batting Bo away from you.

“You better handle this, Vincent. They can’t leave” Bo’s tone darkened slightly before he walked away, heading inside.

You quickly turned back to Vincent, eyes wide and teary.

You felt sick. Seeing that...knowing what Vincent did...what they all do...remembering all the times you had praised Vincent on the figures and how realistic they looks, oh god, you might throw up.

Vincent could see that and instinctively tried to comfort you, his heart stinging when you flinched away.

“...Bo’s not going to let me leave, is he?” you asked, voice cracking slightly, already knowing the answer.

A part of you still believed that Vincent would let you leave, he had never been anything but wonderful to you, you had to believe that at least some of that was real. But Bo had always been more wary of you, more intense, and you knew he was in charge here.

Vincent just shook his head, hating the way that the answer made you cry.

He knew you were scared and you had every right to be, but it still hurt that the thought of staying here with him made you sob like that.

“Please, Vinny” you pleaded.

What were you meant to do? Run? Bo would catch you and there was nowhere to do. There was no way you could make it to the nearest town without Bo finding you and bring you right back.

The look that Vincent gave you was sincerely apologetic and his touch was still gentle as he walked you back into the house, patient with your reluctant steps.

Nothing was going to be the same. Vincent knew what. You might have to stay here but now it will be against your will.

You will still be here but he had already lost you. Vincent knew that.

Lester Sinclair

You had thought Ambrose was a blessing. The three brothers taking you in during your time of need. You moved in properly with Lester a little later when you started dating.

But this town was far from a blessing, you realised that when you discovered the truth about the town, learning about how the brothers got their victims and what they did to them.

As soon as you saw all of this, you hurried back to the home you shared with Lester.

Oh Lester...sweet, energetic, kind Lester...how could he be apart of this?

You packed up a bag of things you’d need but before you made it out the door, Lester arrived him.

His heart broke when he saw you with your bag. You knew...you knew everything and you wanted to leave, you wanted to leave him...

“Y/n, I...I’m sorry” was he apologising for being involved in those people’s deaths, he guessed so. He knew it wouldn’t help but he hoped you could see his sincerity.

“How could you be a part of this, Lester?” you asked, tears staining your cheeks. You just couldn’t picture the man you loved ever purposely hurting an innocent person.

“I...I’m sorry” he wanted to give you an explanation just like you deserved but he didn’t have one, not one that would make things better. So he just apologised again, because he was so sorry that you had to see any of this. “...you’re leaving?” he asked, already knowing the answer and it killed him.

“Will you let me?” you asked, a little nervous about his response. You were terrified of what was happening in Ambrose, you didn’t want to be terrified of him as well.

Lester just nodded, giving you some sense of relief. You were free to leave.

You hung your head, unable to look at the man you loved, as you walked past him.

“Please, Y/n” Lester’s cracking voice made you stop, ready to hear whatever it was that he had to say. “...please just forget about Ambrose...” he pleaded with you. This time you just nodded before walking out the door.

You hoped you would be able to forget about this place but you doubted it.

Lester knew that he had to let you go. He shouldn’t have let you stayed in the first place, he shouldn’t have dragged you into this, he had to let you go because he loved you and thought you deserved better.

But he knew that Bo was going to go crazy about this but Bo wasn’t here right now, he wouldn’t have to find out until sometime tomorrow. By then you would be long gone.

Asa Emory (The Collector)

It was pretty late and Asa was staying late at work again (at least, that was what he told you). You were just about to turn in for the night when there was a knock on the door.

It wasn’t like Asa to forget his keys...and he took the car, so it couldn’t have been him.

You answered the door but nobody was there, just a folder on the doorstep. Asa would have chastised you for picking up a mysterious package and taking into the house but you were curious.

You sat down in the lounge and took a closer look, the notice taped to the front making you pause.

“Do you know where he goes at night?”

Was whoever left this for you talking about Asa? They had to be...

Your mind instantly went to that he was cheating on you. Now, you really didn’t think he would be cheating on you, that he would do that to you, but what else could that note mean?

You opened the folder and pulled out a stack of photos. You gasped at the images, nearly dropping them at first. 

Various images of mutilated bodies, horrific...creations? God, why would anyone send you this and what did it have to do with Asa?

Coming to the last few photos there was a man with the victims, wearing some sort of dark mask.

It wasn’t until the last two photos that you knew without a doubt what all of this was about. The last photos showed the man removing his mask, revealing the face of the man you loved.

He made these...things? With body parts of people he...murdered? How could he do something so awful?

You threw the photos down onto the coffee table, wiping your tears and trying to not throw up your dinner. Asa hurt these people, killed them and made monstrous creations...and you had absolutely no idea...

You had to get out of here before he came home...

You jumped to your feet and headed for the bedroom. You needed to pack some belongings and leave, you were worried about what he would do when he found out that you knew. Even if you still couldn’t fully believe it.

The sound of a car pulling up outside made you pause.

Asa was home. 

You heard the front door open and close. The lights were on, he knew you were still awake, so he called for you.

You panicked, tears still rolling down your cheeks as you locked the bedroom door.

Asa’s brow furrowed when he got no response from you but he paused when he walked into the lounge, seeing the photos scattered over the table. Who had sent these to you? He was going to kill them...

He called your name again but it only made you cry harder.

He walked up the stairs and towards the bedroom door, attempting to open it but finding it locked.

“Y/n. Open the door” he ordered, surprisingly gentle. “I know what you saw, let me explain everything to you.”

You had nowhere to go, you were locked in the bedroom. The only way out was through that door and Asa was on the other side.

“Did-did you do it?” you asked. You just needed him to give you an answer that proved those images wrong, to give you an explanation. You needed him to convince you that he hadn’t done those things.

Both of you were standing on either side of the door now, talking through the wood. 

“You saw those photos. You know it was me. I’m not going to insult you by lying to you, you wouldn’t really believe me anyway” he sounded so calm. Too calm. It wasn’t the voice of somebody who’s partner just found out they were a serial killer.

“...why?” you had no idea why you asked that question. It didn’t matter, in the end. But a part of you needed to know why the man you loved would do something so vile.

“I don’t think I have a satisfying answer to that question” was his answer. He was right, that wasn’t what you wanted to hear at all. Though, you didn’t really know what you wanted to hear.

“...what now?” you felt safe behind this door. Even if you knew that you couldn’t stay behind it forever.

“I can’t let you go. Not knowing what you know, you know that” his calmness was more unsettling than the images...how could he be so calm about this?!

“I-I won’t tell anyone” you promised.

“Y/n, you know I can’t risk that” he was right and even you knew that.

“...please” you pleaded.

“I’m not going to hurt you, you just have to stay. I promise you’ll be okay, with me” Asa sounded convincing and you wanted to believe him but how could you when you found out that he had been hiding so much from you?

“Asa...”

“Open the door” he ordered again.

You didn’t. You fell asleep eventually, waking up to the door still locked. You thought that maybe Asa had given up but you knew that wasn’t like him. You whispered his name through the door and he was quick to respond. You weren’t getting out of this room without running straight into Asa.

That’s when you realised that you weren’t leaving. Asa couldn’t let you go.

Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull)

Jesse has plenty of enemies, not that you know that, and it was one of those enemies that decided that the best way to get to him was through you.

You were home alone, Jesse away on a business trip, when somebody rang the doorbell.

When you answered the door, nobody was there. Just a box set on the doorstep. 

You were careful, you looked around, gently opened the box but only saw videotapes. Weird. 

You took the box inside and took a closer look. There were plenty of videotapes, the box full. Each one was labelled by a state, a town, a month. You didn’t know what any of that meant.

So, like an idiot, you played a tape.

You were horrified. The video was of a young woman being murdered gruesomely. 

Why would anyone send you a box of snuff films? Who could be so disturbed. 

And something in your gut told you that these were real.

You were just about to turn it off, sick to your stomach, about to call the police. About to message Jesse about this awful thing.

But then a man walked into frame. Bald, tall, fitted black suit, and wearing a chrome skull mask. Something so...unsettlingly familiar. 

It couldn’t be...it just couldn’t be your Jesse... 

But it was and you knew it. You turned off the video, ejecting the tape and throwing it to the ground, tears streaming down your face.

All these tapes...proof of the horrific, sadistic murders that the man you loved had committed.

The front door opening and closing made you jump...

You turned and came face to face with the man.

He was about to sign a greeting as he approached you but stopped when he saw your terrified, tear stained face.

He took in your expression for glancing down at the box of tapes, noticing the one you had thrown down and broken...how did you get those tapes? Of course, he knew what they were instantly.

He was going to find out who gave you these and he was going to make sure they regretted it.

“Jesse...please tell me these aren’t real...that, that isn’t you” you pleaded with him, even if you knew the truth now. He didn’t respond, just stared at the box of tapes. “They’re-they’re all yours?...all you?” you asked.

You let out a broken sob when he nodded. There was no point lying now, you knew, it was over.

How could the man you loved do these things? He had always be so wonderful, so perfect, if you didn’t have all this evidence, you wouldn’t have believed it.

“...are you going to hurt me?” you asked and he shook his head. 

God, you wanted so badly to believe him but after seeing what he was capable of...you just didn’t know anymore.

“How could you do those things, Jesse?” this was the man you wanted to marry...but you didn’t know him at all.

He took a step towards you but you took one back. You were scared of him...and that was the last thing he ever wanted.

‘I’m not going to hurt you’ he signed. ‘...I’m sorry...’ he apologised because that’s all he could do. There was no explanation he could give you, no gift or gesture that would earn your forgiveness, there was nothing he could do to make this right. All he could do was give you a weak apologise. 

“...you’re...I don’t know you, you’re not my Jesse...I...” he stepped towards you again but you took five steps back this time.

The images on those tapes flashed through your mind. Those women, the way he killed them...how could he ever do something like that and come home to you. To touch you, to love you. You were disgusted with him and yourself.

It must have been the adrenaline in your body but you finally took action, not bothering to grab your coat as you hurried past him and towards the front door.

You gasped when he caught your arm, looking up at him with fearful eyes. His grip was firm but he was true to his word, he wasn’t hurting you.

“I’m leaving, Jesse” you told him as firmly as you could, voice faltering.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Still holding you as he typed something.

He turned the screen to you so that you could read it. 

‘NO POLICE’

What where you supposed to do. Whatever it took to get out of here.

So, you nodded.

He turned the phone back to himself, typing something new and showing it to you again.

‘I LOVE YOU’

You let out another sob and he released your arm.

You left the house, no knowing where exactly you were going. A friends house? The police station? You didn’t know.

All you did know was that more gifts kept arriving expect these were clothes, jewellery, just stacks of cash. Was Jesse apologising, trying to win you back, pay you off, buy your silence, or just making sure you’re alright? You didn’t know.

Obviously, you left Jesse but that didn’t mean that he had to like it. He still watched over you, made sure you had the money you needed to live a good life.

Jesse sincerely hoped you would keep your promise of not going to the police. If you didn’t, he could just let you go, keep you on your feet. But if you went to the police...he would have to deal with it one way or another.

Otis Driftwood

Otis had met you in a bar, it was that simple. The two of you hit it off like he had never done with somebody before. He never hid any part of himself (other than the crimes he’s committed) and you still seemed interested in him.

You knew that he and his family were...beyond odd, but you didn’t know that they hurt people. So you continued to give him the benefit of the doubt.

You dated. You loved him and he loved you.

You had gone to the Firefly residence and let yourself in like you usually did. You normally planned a time to meet with Otis but you decided that you just needed to see him now.

You called out to him but no response came, nobody was here but the door was unlocked...

You were just going to wait or come back later but then you heard something bang in the basement.

You had never been down there before, you never had a reason or desire too but if somebody was down there, maybe they could tell you when Otis would be back. Or maybe it was Otis!

So you headed down the stairs and into the basement.

“Oh my God...” you completely froze when you stepped into the room.

People, held in cages, were cowering together, bloody and beaten. They begged for mercy, for your help. But what you were staring at was Otis, covered in blood. He had turned to you, surprise on his face and knife in his hand.

Otis knew it was only a matter of time, the family didn’t hide their true nature very well. He just didn’t think it would be now, he wanted longer with you. Because he knew that as soon as you found out, you’d be gone.

You ran. You had that much sense.

You ran up the stairs, through the house, and out the front door, with Otis right behind you.

You always knew he was strange, had an interested in morbid things, but you never would have guessed sadistic killer. Who would just assume that?!

You never worried that he would hurt you, but now you did.

Once you got a few feet from the house, you had to come to a stop. Even if your whole body was telling you to keep running but you curled over and threw up.

Those poor people...all the gore in that basement...on Otis...what had he done and how many people had he done it too?

“Y/n-” Otis’ voice coming from behind you made you snap back up, turning to him but stepping backwards.

“Get away from me” you were terrified and disgusted, he could see it on your face.

“I would never hurt you. You know that” Otis assured you, while he stood there splattered in somebody else’s blood. It would have been comical to somebody with a fucked up sense of humour.

“...I don’t...” you shook your head, your answer quiet.

“’course you do. Have I ever hurt you before?” he asked but that didn’t matter anymore.

“You hurt those people!” you remined him. 

Maybe if you knew the details of his other crimes, you wouldn’t have been able to snap at him so easily. You definitely would throw up again, that’s for sure.

“Hey, what’s going on here?” Baby’s cheerful voice caught the attention of both of you. “Oh shit...they found out, didn’t they?” she asked, still smiling like nothing was wrong.

“Go inside, Baby” Otis ordered sternly.

“Aw don’t worry, hun. Otis ain’t gonna hurt ya, he loves ya!” Baby assured you.

“I’ve got to go...” you mumbled, turning and making your escape again.

“Are they going to talk, Otis?” Baby asked her brother, both of them knowing they can’t let you go to the police or anything.

“I have it handled” Otis huffed before following after you, making Baby scoff. 

Well...you weren’t dead, but your relationship with the family was far from over. Otis couldn’t just let you go around running your mouth about them but he didn’t want to hurt you either. 

Hopefully, the two of you can figure something out once you’ve calmed down...

[bump1nthen1ght]

I’m Still Hurting (Orc x Reader) Part 2

Pairings: Fem!Reader/Male!Orc

Genre: Urban Fantasy, Angst

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2107 words

Summary: You and your boyfriend establish a new normal

A/N: At long last, the highly requested part two! I had a bit of struggle coming up with a proper followup to the first part (which was part of why I left it with an open-ended ending in the first place lol). Little less angst this time, I felt these two deserved a little sweetness after the last chapter. Hope y'all enjoy!

Part 1

The first thing that caught your eye when you walked by the music store was the Grand Piano. It was gorgeous: Polished mahogany, a nice velvet seat, and keys that looked like they had never seen the sticky fingers of a curious 8 year old.

“Wow, is that new?”

You nod, admiring the old-fashioned air of the instrument. You knew jack shit about music, but even you could tell that this piano was an antique, one probably worth a good chunk of change.

“Must be. I’ve never seen it before and this place is on my way to work.”

Waruck hmms, pressing his hands up against the glass. His eyes sparkle when he sees the “Free to Play” sign right next to the piano. It probably reminds him of his Grandpa’s, the one he played when you guys visited his family for Christmas.

That was a long time ago.

“Want to go in?”

Waruck pulls away from the glass, eyebrows raised. He rubs the back of his neck and steps a couple feet back, trying to curb his enthusiasm.

“Uh, we don’t have to-”

“I don’t mind. It's been a while-” You pause, the slight-anxiety in the air making every casual word difficult, “It’s been a while since I’ve heard you play.”

Waruck smiles, small and polite, and opens the door of the shop for you. Before, he might have done a little bow and said “Ladies First” in a British accent.

But that was before, and this is now. Now, every comment is walking on eggshells, whispered tentatively and under your breath. Testing the waters for how comfortable you two could get around each other.

Still, it was exponential growth from two months ago.

--------

After your meeting at the coffee shop, you had asked Waruck for a month; A month of privacy, for you to collect your thoughts and feelings, to be alone for a bit. He had agreed immediately, shuffling out of the cafe with a hunched back and a melancholy air, but he had kept his promise. You took the time to focus on other things, shifting your relationship to the back of your mind and enjoying the day-to-day.

But a part of you felt a little bad, like maybe you were stringing Waruck along for an inevitable breakup. Getting his hopes up for an extra tortuous punishment that left a sour taste in your mouth. So on one brave Saturday night, you sent him a meme you saw on Instagram, one that reminded you of him.

That second month saw the two of you texting more and more frequently, sending little jokes, asking how your day was, so and so. Each week rebuilt a little bit more of that familiarity, that comfortableness. It finally got to the point where Waruck asked if you were free one weekend. He just wanted to get some lunch and stroll around the neighborhood for a bit. For the first time in a while, that idea didn’t seem too bad.

--------

The air is considerably cooler inside the store, a tiny bell ringing as a rush of air-conditioned air hits both of you. Waruck makes a beeline for the piano, his footsteps short and quick. You feel a smile crawl on your face; He always acted like an excited kid when it came to music.

Waruck plops down in the center of the stool, fingers lightly brushing over the keys in awe. You walk up the piano’s side, laying your hand on the wood and admiring the lack of smudge marks on the polished wood. Waruck tests out a G note and although the sound is short, it’s extremely pleasant. Waruck’s smile grows even larger.

“When I was a young boy…”

You mutter under your breath. Waruck chuckles, quickly continuing onto a G flat.

“My father took me into the city,” Waruck hums

“To see a marching band.” The two of you sing together, laughing a little bit too loudly and gaining a sharp look from the tired sales clerk. Waruck waves a little apology, but that playful grin stays on his face.

“Wow, that brings back some repressed Hot Topic memories.”

“Seriously. I can almost feel the book my band teacher used to thwack me with. Me and my buddies would sneak into the choir room and play that all the time.” Waruck’s fingers dance over a couple more notes, aimless.

You’ve always liked watching Waruck play. His fingers were so dextrous and controlled,  not to mention long and nicely articulated. He’d probably make good money from a hand-model side-gig.

“Want to take a seat?”

You shift your focus away from Waruck’s hands. He’s made space on the bench and pats the open space next to him.

“Yeah, sure.” You say, despite the fast pace your heart is now beating.

You keep a solid two inches of distance between your bodies, keeping your thighs together as to not brush your legs with his. It felt like a middle school dance, keeping a bible length away from your partner to avoid the disapproving stare of the chaperones.

Waruck nods, absentmindedly running his fingers up the scale. “Any requests?”

Immediately, all non-love songs depart from your brain. One of your favorite pieces sits on the tip of your tongue and your brain refuses to let it go. You shake your head.

“Nope. It’s all yours, music man.”

Waruck chuckles, a little louder and a lot more comfortable, as he sits deeper in his seat.

“Prepare,” Waruck cracks his knuckles, “to be amazed.”

You bite back a laugh. He’s still such a dork.

He starts to play, his hands easily finding the right keys, moving like a well-oiled machine. Your heart nearly skips a beat before it melts into a puddle of sentiment.

It’s your favorite.

The song brings back memories of your childhood, a rainy day in, and delicious food. It’s like chicken soup for the soul and you can feel any of the left over tension leave your body.

Waruck’s eyebrows furrow with concentration, but he has a large smile on his face, his large tusks peeking out from his lips. His arm stretches across the piano as the song hits its most fast-paced part. His biceps and shoulders lean more into your space, but the feeling isn’t unwelcome. It feels natural, as if his presence and yours is part of the piece itself.

Waruck’s thigh brushes against yours, but his pace doesn’t falter and neither does yours. You stay enraptured, watching how easily he slips into the music. You barely even notice how you have begun to lean closer to his side; Your mind says it’s to give his arms plenty of space to play, but it’s still far more comfortable than you are willing to admit.

How easy it feels, in the moment, to fall back into routine.

The song begins slowing to a stop, only a couple seconds left, when the sounds of the music shop return to you. A giggle from not too far rings discordant with Waruck’s piano.

Three girls stand not too far from you, watching with fascination as Waruck plays.

“Wow, he is so good!” One whispers to her friends.

There is nothing even remotely lascivious in their eyes or in their words, but a knife still twists in your gut. Your throat constricts as flashes of your bedroom, of unanswered texts, and a picture of a bar corner booth send needles down your spine and into your heart.

Is this wrong? Is this giddy feeling you have only distracting you from reality? Is it like this song, Waruck’s playing, beautiful but temporary?

“Ugh, I want what they have.”

“I know, right? How romantic.”

They’re wrong, you’re wrong, this is wrong; It’s fake, fake, fa-

Your eyes dart to and fro, trying to desperately avoid Waruck’s quickly overwhelming body heat and your audience, before it catches on the distorted shape of your reflection in the window.

The glass is old, slightly drooping, even the golden lettering of the music shop’s name looks dusty and sun-bleached.

But what is unmistakable is you and Waruck. Waruck, playing piano, and looking at you. Looking at you with the love in his eyes you thought had died, or had never been there at all. The group of girls stands in the background, small and out of focus.

And Waruck is staring at you.

“Are you okay?” Waruck asks, his warm hand on your shoulder.

You whip your neck around, almost getting whiplash.

You’re here, in the music store, with your boyfriend. He looks at you, brow slightly puzzled from your wild eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, I,” You suck in a deep breath, “Sorry, I guess I got lost in my own head. That song gets me kind of nostalgic.”

Waruck pats your shoulder and you miss it’s heat when he pulls it back to his side. He smiles, but you can tell he is still slightly worried.

“No problem, I get it.”

You notice now how much closer Waruck is to you. His chest has shifted towards yours, the fabric of his shirt sleeve pressing against the skin of your bicep. Waruck’s knee absentmindedly knocks into yours, but the contact doesn’t sting or jolt you. Not even the continuing silence makes the situation awkward.

It’s nice.

“Do you want to check out the record aisle? They might actually have that piece on vinyl.”

Waruck gestures with his thumb to the piles of CD’s and records not too far from you two. You nod

“Yeah, that sounds great.”

--------

The two of you spend about an hour in the music store, pointing out hilarious cover art and admiring some vintage finds. Waruck even gets you to chuckle a couple of times, slowly bringing out his old cheesy puns.

Waruck’s missed this.

You two walk out of the music store at the tail end of one of Waruck’s jokes, you playfully punching his shoulder.

The two of you wander, in the opposite direction of your cars, for a little while. But Waruck hasn’t lost track of time; No, he’s soaking in every moment he can, every smile and lingering look you give him. Every reminder that this is real.

He spent a week agonizing over what he did. Stuck in silence as he gave you your space. His friends (His real friends, not those assholes from the bar) had offered to come by and keep him company, but he turned it down.

When Waruck got back into routine, it was slow-rolling. It was difficult to fight the instinct to check his phone for a good-morning text, or check your Instagram for any ‘post-breakup’ partying.

No, he had already broken your trust once. The least he could do was give you some time. Spend some hour not wallowing in self-pity, but actively make a change.

Waruck began to accept those invites to a chill hang out, playing some poker and sipping on beer with the gang. He played his keyboard when the thoughts got too loud and went jogging when the music wasn’t loud enough. He called his mom a couple of times, even sent his sister a  couple of texts to catch up. They hadn’t spoken outside of holidays for almost three years.

Maybe he was the one that needed time.

God, why did you have to be so smart?

“Oh shit, how long have we been walking?” You mutter, checking your watch for the time. Waruck turns around you, already knowing the answer was 27 minutes, exactly. The both of you were nearing the edge of the neighborhood, cafes and shops turning into residential suburbs. “Dang, time really flies, huh?”

Waruck smiles.

“With you? It always does.”

You give him a half smile, patting his bicep. “Oh my god, you’re such a cheeseball.”

Waruck winks and shoots you some finger guns.

“You know it babe.”

You giggle, checking your watch once more, face turning just a little bit.

“I should probably head back, I’m getting dinner with some friends tonight.”

A small part of Waruck yearns for more time, but he lets it go.

Space, this was about establishing space.

“I had a lot of fun today, Waruck.” You step a little closer, Waruck’s heart skips a beat.

“Me too.” He whispers, his breath catching as your fingers brush against his.

It’s a simple gesture, one you’ve down a million times. But when your palm slips into his, your finger’s interlocking, it’s like fireworks have gone off.

“Same time, next week?”

Waruck nods, not trusting himself to speak without a voice crack.

That’s all he needed, all you wanted; The promise of the future.

“Yes, I would love that.”

[enduracarrotchips]

YouTuber AU

Hello welcome to Dating Scandal but with Twitter Involved (nightmare)

A little exposition here: 

Link, Zelda, Sidon, Revali, and Riju are the most popular group of youtubers on the internet and have a huge fanbase that likes to theorize, draw fanart, and write fanfiction about them. Disclaimer, I don’t actually interact with real-person fandoms myself lol there’s just too much potential for drama and misunderstandings & they’re always bound to end in a dumpster fire but that is sort of what this au is about so.

Impa, Mipha, Daruk, and Urbosa are family friends that appear in a lot of their videos/streams. 

(This is an art blog I swear)

enter vidcon 20XX

Link: 

blows stuff up/sets stuff on fire with a side of cooking vids and gaming

most are filmed outside, he does those challenges where you try to cook stuff with limited ingredients/materials

has the largest fanbase of all of them, but not the most…intimidating.

does a lot of collab videos, mostly with Impa, Daruk, and Riju because they have similar interests/channels, but Zelda appears in his videos and is seen filming and the stans read too far into it

simps. i’m pointing at you.

Most popular videos are “shield surfing on rock!—how I broke my leg” “can Daruk eat Impa’s motorcycle?” and “how to inhale ranch dressing.”

Twitter handle is @ arsonistslullabye because he’s a hozier fan

45m subs

Zelda:

theories, analyses, conspiracies, and the occasional e x p e r i m e n t

she once got link to eat a frog for 50 bucks.

most people argue that she’s better than more popular YouTubers because she actually has quality content to give to the world and she has a lot of defensive supporters

She used to get a lot of hate before Urbosa spoke up about it and scared the bejeezus out of everyone

has an actual posting schedule

“Happy Sunday everyone, it’s Zelda Hyrule and today we will be talking about cryptozoology and why blupees exist, you cowards.”

Twitter handle is @ zeldaofhyrule and she is pan. just so you know. One of those calm extroverts that mystify me to this day.

18m subs

Sidon:

fashion/life hacks. Like gourmet troom troom but if they were real people.

Has the 2nd largest fanbase

most of them are girls

Sidon has a boyfriend though, which he told everyone at VidCon a few years ago

cue the drama and shipping and the entire fandom trying to figure out who the boyfriend is. A well known reddit thread emerged that presented the common guesses being Link, Sidon, and Zelda.

“But it can’t be Zelda, Sidon’s gay.”

“I’m not in the fandom but I thought Zelda was a boy??”

“Did you just say Sidon? Is that a typo? Are you saying that Sidon’s dating himself?”

Sidon x Sidon became a fandom joke.

Don’t look at me I’m just setting up all the worldbuilding. every fandom has their weird dark sides and Sidon x Sidon is the Linkcest of the Sidon YT fandom.

Mystery BF is actually Bazz, a pretty inconspicuous guy who appeared in a few of his videos. This was confirmed a year ago, but everyone still ships him with other YouTubers because they’re convinced he was lying to throw them off his scent. He really can’t catch a break and this is why you should not ship real people.

Twitter handle is @ officialprincesidon

says “beguiling” a lot

21m subs ᕙ( ͡❛ ▿ ͡❛)ᕗ

Mipha:

Sidon’s sister, hasn’t posted a single video but just has the channel for show because she appears in so many of Sidon’s videos as a model for his makeup tutorials and whatnot

has 328k for that. Everyone loves her, she’s great. @ mimipha

Revali:

Link’s sworn rival

Link thinks they’re friends

He kept popping up in link’s Twitter threads and making snarky comments until zelda called him out for not even following link (so why was he stalking his acc) which kept the Twitter drama to a minimum

Revali was the catalyst of a few popular memes and that’s where most of his subs come from.

drags link into a few challenges that always get a ton of views because of how competitive they get

“ITS JUST ASININE” is a running joke that everyone tries to get him to say. His @ is itsjustasinine as well

Urbosa is the only person who can win an argument with him

5m subs and growing rapidly. newer to youtube than everyone else.

Impa:

Doesn’t have a channel she’s just a mutual friend of Mipha, Zelda, and Link

Rides a motorcycle, so she is used in a few of Link’s videos.

@ ihaveamotorcycle because she thinks having a motorcycle is a personality trait. the most unruly on Twitter when it comes to replying to fan’s stuff, leaking upcoming videos and generally causing chaos.

Mipha’s girlfriend. That’s how she met Zelda and Link.

Urbosa:

Is actually a model, but she has a ton of YouTuber friends because she’s known Zelda since birth.

when she entered the youtube community she didn’t realize she would be adopting like 15 children

5m subs. her videos are professional & related to her modelling career. @ urbosasfury

I feel like she would do unboxing vids. I’m not sure what she’s unboxing.

Daruk

Just a friend of Link’s, fun guy. yells a lot. once ate a rock and had no reaction.

people are scared of him for that reason

Riju:

yoga & gymnastics & “ha look at how flexible I am its eAsY” videos

you know the type

she also does reactions and is sponsored by save the sand seals charities which she is very enthusiastic about. She’s also Urbosa’s niece and the only minor in the gang (15). I like to think that the champions YT community is actually not creepy so everyone respects her a ton

doesn’t post frequently, she mostly appears in Link’s videos to jump out of airplanes or whatever. And sometimes Zelda’s if she’s interested in the topic. 500k subs, but she’s always really popular when she appears in Link’s videos.

VidCon:

In the months leading up to VidCon, some fans on the internet made a few discoveries: first of all, that the inside of Link’s house is painted green. This is a big deal because all of his videos are filmed outside either in his backyard or on trips that he and the brosquad go on to do…whatever bros do. explosions. idk. The point is he had some announcement about VidCon and filmed it inside. Only the wall and a potted plant were shown.

However, the colour was similar to the the shade of Zelda’s living room. Fans dug through years and years of old videos and found a clip of Zelda walking through a hallway, where there was an open door and a glimpse of a houseplant.

There were 2 types of responses to the theory:

“They could just be roommates guys calm down”

“and they were ROOMMATES?”

others pointed out that Link could just not have a house and had to crash in Zelda’s

Some guy on reddit claimed he had a botany degree and declared that the houseplants in the clips were not of the same genus. Normal people pointed out that the plant would have grown 4 years between the clips and would look considerably different.

#Zelink trended on twitter for a while and people posted other old clips from both of their channels and the frog video blew up again

Impa retweeted a post tagged as #zelink with “rofl” and later publicly apologized for causing confusion.

Fans noticed that in the “can a motorcycle drive over my arm” (it was clickbait he’s fine) episode 2 years ago, Link was eating out of a paper lunch bag with his name written on it in handwriting that a few people claimed to look like Zelda’s, leading people to believe that she had packed him a lunch.

However, this theory was shot down with the counterargument that Zelda can’t cook. although. i mean how much skill do you need to make a sandwich.

No one knows what tumblr is doing at this time

Zelda wore a scarf in her “Save the Sand Seals” video that matched identically to the scarf Link wore when he travelled to Hebra to film a shield surfing video, but it’s been debated wether it’s actually the same scarf or not.

Neither Zelda nor Link has spoken up about the theories, and besides Impa’s one slip on twitter, neither has any of their friends. Zelda received a lot of backlash for the assumption that she was dating Link because he has a lot of delusional fans that didn’t want her to “steal their man” or whatever the hell that type of fan would get mad about

Oh yea and bolson & karson run a zelink fanpage on twitter sorry I forgot about that

after that whole mess, everyone was even more anticipant of VidCon in the hopes that some of their questions would be answered.

The whole batch went to VidCon this year: Link, Impa, Daruk, and Riju are a gang while Sidon and Mipha go together and Zelda & Revali each go separately. Urbosa is there for supervision moral support

Zelda has always been much better at dodging questions that she doesn’t want to answer than anyone else, so her Q&A went without a hitch. When asked to confirm the rumours she said “which one?” and then moved on to the next question (without actually confirming any rumours).

Link is generally a more awkward person but eventually said that he had filmed the video in Zelda’s house because it was nicer and didn’t realize it would cause such an uproar. Fans were disappointed, but Bolson claimed he saw Link and Zelda exiting the hotel elevator on the same floor after Link’s Q&A session. No one believed him.

Fans went back to theorizing over who Link, Zelda, and Sidon were all dating, because apparently they can’t just be dating unknown people and have to be with other YouTubers

Sidon and Bazz got engaged about a week after VidCon, making at least 4 preteen girls cry

actually try 4 million

Sidon x Sidon made a brief comeback but Sidon spoke up about his fandom for the first time ever on twitter and told everyone that no, he was not dating himself. eventually, everyone settled down and accepted that none of them were in a relationship save for a few loud fans.

Link and Zelda still got the occasional “when will you tell us who you’re dating?” comment but most of them were joking and the people who still hardcore shipped them were generally frowned upon. Zelda’s popularity went up after VidCon and she regained the 200k subscribers she’d lost after the first theory dropped.

Two months after VidCon, Link posted a video titled “Zelda and I’s House Tour!” and gave around 45 million people a heart attack

as revealed in the video, they had actually been dating since they were 16 and everyone’s just a fool.

the potted plant is named Hestu.

[fascinatedhelix]

Binge read Ava’s Demon a couple days ago and have a ton of thoughts on it. Here’s just some general story thoughts and theories (Spoilers Ahead!):

The whole tone of the comic is less... frustrating when one takes into consideration that the original version was made back in 2001, by a depressed 13 year old. Things just come together better with that context in mind; the characters, how they interact with their setting, the construction of the setting itself. It just screams “if people took stories written by kids seriously.” It’s oddly charming, in my opinion.

The setting that TITAN Inc creates is perfect for a YA story, since their indoctrination practices seem to hinge on isolating and disenfranchising children while also placing an ungodly amount of responsibility on them from an early age. Like, Gil was made to talk about his career at age 11. It certainly fits with TITAN’s goals, though it also comes with perhaps the unintended side effect that they probably have a bigger rebellion problem than they show. Adolescents tend to be especially impulsive and prone to acting out when under pressure, and if you give them the ability to actually navigate important technology and resources in your pursuit of quick and easy minions, you’re going to get a lot of amateur hackers, thieves, smugglers, and other minor criminals who probably wouldn’t be doing any of this had they not been forced to make life-changing decisions so early.

It’s really weird that Gil was put through eight years of medical training, just to become a medical janitor. One would think that TITAN Inc wouldn’t want to waste resources on a “failure” if Gil didn’t perform well enough in his evaluations, and would have just flunked him if he didn’t meet their standards. I’m thinking the medical janitor thing might have been a cover for something higher ups didn’t want the lower level administrative staff to know about. Strategos Six did seem to involve a lot more investment into Gil’s future as a follower than one would expect. If Six had a habit of saving kids from the Scavengers, I don’t think they would have been able to recognize Gil as well as they did. I’m thinking they wanted to use him for some sort of project outside of the public eye, like working with the Scavengers or working against Wrathia’s Plan. Six does seem to be familiar enough with Wrathia to recognize her appearance and power, perhaps they wanted to use Gil to counteract that.

The pace, while great for characterization, isn’t all that promising. From what I’ve gathered it’s been going since 2012, which means it’s taken eight or nine years just for the plot to take off the ground. While I can understand side projects and life issues might slow progress down, I can also understand the fandom’s frustration with the pacing of the comic. You know, this sort of issue is why Homestuck’s panels were, for the most part, relatively low effort; a simpler art style and reuse of assets makes a more regular update schedule much more manageable. I appreciate the work that’s being done, of course - the art’s easily the best part of the comic - it’s just that I can see why things would be slow going.

That being said, I do hope that things pick up a little after this point, because I am absolutely itching to see some character development. It’s only really been establishing characters and setting up the beginning of the plot so far, and it’s only been maybe a day or two since the story began, in-universe. I’m hoping that, if Erios joins the “friend” group, they’ll be able to offset the bad vibes of the main cast through their own good ones.

[tarajenkins]

Another private little FFXIV-related vent--well, little for me, lol. So if you click this link, it’s quite politely your own fault  ⸜( ˙˘˙)⸝ ♡

BUT

I sub to Vauthry's mentions and tag on Twitter, because occasionally there's actually content, and occasionally, I actually remember that my Twitter account exists. I’m pretty sure that’s why people go there, for content. Twice in the course of this week, though, his mentions have brought randos who seem to be talking about me, unless there’s another overactive Vauthry artist on Tumblr. I’m also like 98% of the Vauthry art on Twitter, so it’s probably me? But even if it’s not me, that still brings us to these thoughts under this break.

(Nice ableism, but even if this was not aimed at me, who takes psych evals from internet shitlords)

They call “simping Vauthry” "cringe" while the entirety of their account rotates around how thirsty they are for the latest FFXIV flavor of the month. The most hilarious thing is, they still reblogged my Hyth art here on Tumblr. Me, a “cringe” Vauthry artist. Tell me you're a fatshaming clown without telling me you're a fatshaming clown, welcome to the block list.  It doesn’t take confidence to “simp” a fat character. I am not a confident person. It also doesn’t take “insanity”.  All it takes is not thinking that enjoying a fat character is some OH MY GOD SHAMEFUL thing. All it takes is not being an asshole about fat people. 

I’m an asshole in other ways.  ʅ₍ッ₎ʃ  (And yes, 4 a.m. currently seems to be “morning” to my insomniac mind.) Since it turned out we shared a mutual, I assume that's why they deleted later.

In which the unique “other characters look like shit!!1” defense is also played, seriously fandom why are you like this

So the actual poster mentioning a Vauthry artist is upset about "proshipping"? I don't even know what that means. Wait a sec-- Ah, “proshipper” apparently means that the artist in question must think “antishippers” are shitty bullies. Reading comprehension really is on the downturn in this fandom. But guilty as charged if it’s me! \o/

In any case, apparently this would make me unqualified to call out all the hypocritical shit I've directly experienced regarding this character over the past two years, lmao.

As of now, that post has disappeared too, at least. I can always hope they realized they were wrong.

I am fix-it arting the shitty fatphobic dump Square took on the game with Eulmore for my own enjoyment and relief. To pretend that the writers really didn’t sink to such a  juvenile level, to pretend the fandom at large didn’t accept it. That’s all. But there are people who really have to come seek it out to point and laugh. "The girl on Tumblr who simps for Vauthry” is used like it’s an insult, while  every other character is received as :) teehee hello fellow simper! (I also still have no idea how stating “Tempering babies in the womb is fucked up” equals simping, lol.) My vents against certain other characters lie solely in their actions and how the writers handle them. The vents of others against Vauthry, though, always manage to boil down to “grossness” and “disgust”, because Yoshi-P said fat people equal all the evil of mankind in the ShB trailer--and the fandom bought it with no questions asked. There are even still people who scream Eulmore had slavery, even though the dialogues clearly state “hired” and "employed” and speak of salaries--yet somehow legitimate fascist fantasy empires are uwu forgivable uwu.  Giving a fat character the same level of consideration that fandom darling characters receive--it's such an audacious idea, isn’t it? This is the “great community”. My anger at the bodyshaming has been tone-policed before, and I was called “too mean” by someone who felt that invalidated the points they admitted I made. Meanwhile at that time, some jackass sagenodded that bullying fat people was ~just concern for their wellbeing~ without backlash. That didn’t count as “mean”. Fat jokes about Vauthry on /r/FFXIV sometimes still make the sub’s front page to this day. That doesn’t count as “mean”.

Everyone wants to be so progressive and positive about Dulia-Chai, but crickets when this happens, every time. 

When I got angry about a certain fandom darling character, and said that character chose their actions? People were encouraged to not follow me/unfollowed me. (Turns out said character did have choice after all, short one “little tug”. Oopsie!) No negativity in this fandom is allowed--unless someone is being fatphobic, then the fandom will hold their flower and instead tell the people who are angry about it that they’re being ~too mean~. It’s a bad look, FFXIV fandom. Reblogging Dulia is great, but not equally discouraging fat hate no matter the character is telling.

Sure, I could unsub from the Twitter mentions and tags. But why should I? Sure, I could grin and bear it--these tweets weren’t the only ones over two years. But why should I? How about the fandom do more than pay lip service on how ~welcoming~ and ~inclusive~ it is, instead? Because it has a really obvious problem with fat bodies, and Dulia is not a free pass. It isn’t an aberration to have interest in a fat character. It especially isn’t a goddamn fetish. The problem is the people who see it as an aberration, and assume a fetish is the only way you could possibly ever give a damn about a fat person.  It’s not that hard, FFXIV fandom. 

TL;DR: Don't be shy, bring it to my face next time! I promise I will gladly return the favor. ( ᐛ )b  

[smellsfaintlyofvanilla]

SPOILERS! SORRY i wanna request another annie x reader, this includes spoilers like season 4 episode 8, and when annie comes out of her crystal in the manga so feel free to ignore! basically, reader was in sasha’s place and ended up dying when gabi shot her. after annie comes out of her crystal, the scouts explain to her what happened to reader. when annie and the scouts see gabi again, annie has a breakdown and screams at gabi how much reader meant to her? <3 tysm!!

You guys are sending me on an Annie brainrot, I’m not even kidding...

Also, the part where Annie comes out of the crystal hasn’t been animated yet (I already knew it happened cause of spoilers don’t worry), so I kinda just looked it up really quickly, so it might not be super accurate but ya know.

ALSO I LISTENED TO “I love you” BY BILLIE EILISH WHILE WRITING THIS AND IT HONESTLY ADDS TO THE MOOD SO MUCH BUT IT’S MAKING ME SAD

Tragedies of War

(Annie Leonhart x Reader)

AU: Canon (Somewhat non-compliant)

Warnings: Slight violence, season 4 spoilers

Category: Angst

Summary: After coming out of the crystal, Annie searches for her s/o, and when she receives news of your passing, she searches for the one who ended their life in order to get closure.

Words: 5.0K

The sun shined harshly onto the parched dirt below your feet, and a swift pivot of your foot kicked a small cloud of dust into the space that surrounded your legs. You had dodged Annie’s punch flawlessly, and you held your hands up to your head defensively, just as she had taught you.

For a moment, a smile graced her lips. She was proud of how quickly you were catching up to her technique. She had taken up the task of teaching you basic martial arts and hand-to-hand combat after you expressed your dismay at being so inept at it.

Her fists raised to her face once again, signifying her readiness to continue.

You slowly approached her, preparing to land a strong hit, and hoping to get the upper hand against the experienced blonde girl.

Once you were in range, she swung her right fist swiftly towards your face, but a quick shift of your head to the right managed to have her arm swing right into the air above your shoulder. You acted quickly, not giving her the chance to recoil her arm or regain her stance, and delivered a harsh uppercut to the underside of her jaw with your idle right hand.

She stumbled backwards in a mixture of shock and slight pain. She had to admit, the late night training the two of you had been partaking in for the past few weeks was starting to pay off. Your uppercut was stronger than it had ever been, and a dull aching pain spread rapidly through her whole jaw, rocking her usually tense form ever so slightly. She brought her left hand up to rub her jaw, trying to sooth the pain as she winced.

“Impressive.” She muttered through her clenched teeth. Outwardly, she seemed annoyed, but inside, she was pleased at your performance. “You’re improving Y/n. Sooner or later, I might have to start to actually try against you.”

You chuckled nervously, reminded of how many levels above you Annie was. Still, a spur of confidence surged through you at the successful hit, and you raised your hands once again. You let out a satisfied huff.

“Well then, let’s see it!” You smiled confidently, high off of the delusion that you could possibly beat Annie’s master level combat skills.

You charged at her more recklessly this time, and reused your previous uppercut in attempt to catch her off guard once again. In response, she arched her back, tilting her head away from your fist effortlessly. Before you even had the time to acknowledge that you had missed, her left hand struck your stomach fiercely, and as you buckled over in pain, she placed her hands on the back of your head, and drove your face to her kneecap unrestrained.

You sunk down into a heap onto the dirt, clutching at your stomach in pain. You coughed dryly, trying to regain the breath that had just been knocked out of your chest oh so mercifully.

“O-Owww... That was... A little rough, Annie...” You choked out between pants.

“Well, you seemed confident. I needed to knock you down a peg.” She stared at you, unamused.

She waited a moment for you to stand up so the two of you could resume training, but you stayed hunched over on the dirt as crimson started to drip slowly from your nose. The small whimper of pain that left your lips ignited a twinge of sympathy in the girl, and she knelt down next to you to grab your hands and cautiously lift you up.

Her attention shifted to the blood that leaked from your nose, and she averted her eyes. It was training, you were bound to get hurt no matter what, but that didn’t stop her from feeling guilty over your minor injury.

She walked over to the small pile of towels she had set aside, originally there in case one or both of you got too sweaty and needed a break. She picked up one from the top of the pile and brought it to your nose to try and prevent the blood from leaving stains on your clothes. After all, you only had so many shirts, and they were seldom washed to remove stains.

“Maybe I was a little rough there... sorry...” She murmured, embarrassed at how soft the whole situation was making her feel.

An adorable giggle left your lips, and Annie looked at you in confusion. What is she laughing about? What’s so funny?

Her look of confusion didn’t help you keep your composure, as you started full blown laughing.

“Y/n??” Annie asked, accidentally bringing the towel away from your face. “What it is??”

Your laughter died down, and after letting out one final chuckle, you spoke up. “You’re just really cute, especially when you’re worried.”

She blushed at that, still not used to the verbal affection that you were so fond of giving her.

Flustered, she tilted her head down to rest her head longingly on your shoulder. You grinned once again as you felt a gentle smile curve upwards on her lips.

“Take it back...” Her voice faltered. She was deeply conflicted between accepting the compliment or insisting that she wasn’t cute.

You only chuckled once again. Her inability to think of anything to do in response to affection was even cuter.

You grabbed her wrist, and brought it up to your face. You started gently and endearingly ghosting kisses along her skin, starting at the wrist and moving wordlessly up her arm. You stopped for a moment though, just to hug her arm into your chest lovingly.

“I love you Annie...”

“...”

“I love you too...”

*CRASH*

Cold. That’s all it felt like. Cold.

Something was... wrong... very wrong... but she couldn’t place her finger on what.

Her eyes peeled open slowly, and the first coherent thought she would have after four years started to form in her mind.

Oh... I’m on the floor...

She sat up slowly, her tense joints and muscles refusing to give her an easy time of it. Once she stood up on her unsteady, almost shaky legs, she stretched, surveying the room around her.

Small fragments of icy crystalline shards lay scattered at her feet. It took one bewildered look behind her for her scatterbrained mind to form together an understanding of what was going on.

I... I’m free from the crystal...? Why?

She glanced around, confused and desperate for any indication of why she was free. There were no MPs in the room, nor any scouts or Marleyan soldiers. Clearly, no one was intentionally trying to set her free.

After assessing the situation to ease her mind a little, she shuffled backwards and slid down the wall, taking a deep, full breath for the first time in years. The air felt great, she had to admit, and being able to move once again was certainly freeing. She hugged her knees to her chest and rested her head in her arms tranquilly. She loved feeling free once again, but she felt her heart tug, as it was yearning for something... or someone.

Her head perked up abruptly, a memory flashing through her brain. She was training with you... her girlfriend.

It had been four years since she’d seen you... she wondered what you would look like now. Had you been having fun with everyone? Did you find out the truth and escape the walls?

An anxious thought ruthlessly tore it’s way through Annie’s brain. Did something happen to you? Did you take your final breaths cold and alone while she slept like a baby in the stupid crystal? Were you devoured by a titan that her own nation sent to kill you? Did you... die hating her?

She stood up abruptly, swinging her leg back and kicking a shard of crystal across the room and letting out a huff through her clenched. Surely not. She’s an extremely strong soldier. I know her better than anyone else would. Nothing could have happened to her...

But, still, a seed of worry had already planted itself in her stomach. Still, she just had to see you again. Not only did she need to make sure that you were unharmed by this senselessness, but just to see you once more. She couldn’t care less what become of her, especially now that she had escaped. She wanted to treasure one more conversation with her lover, and to hold you and whisper sweet nothings to you. God, she was missing those little things so bad right now.

Her mind shifted to the first step towards seeing you- getting out of this shitty dungeon. The wooden door was unlocked and unguarded, at least from this side. She took quiet, strategic steps towards the door, and creaked open the door gently, as to not alert anyone outside of her presence.

A lone guard stood with their back turned to the door. One look at the short and wavy cream colored locks and she was easily identified as Hitch, her old MP roommate.

She made a quick dash, stopping behind the unaware girl and placing one hand over her mouth to prevent her from making any noise, and the other arm was wrapped tightly over Hitch’s neck. She felt the girl tense up considerably out fear in her grasp.

“Take me to the Scouts.”

---

Within the day, she had arrived at the current residence of Scouts. She had convinced some of the higher up MPs to let her see them, with much pleading of course, and on the promise that she would do absolutely no harm, and she would be under MP supervision the whole time.

She walked along the worn dirt path quickly, an MP standing to either side of her, holding both of her arms as to prevent any chance of Annie attacking. She stepped right in front of the door, and her heart filled with both excitement and anxiousness as she thought about her lover, who was most likely waiting on the other side.

An MP dully knocked on the door, and a disgruntled Levi answered.

“Military Police? What are you doing here?” He asked, unamused at the sudden presence of guests.

Peering over his shoulder from inside, Armin’s eyes widened as he recognized the anxious girl in the doorway. “Annie? What are you doing here? Why are you out of your crystal??” He started to jog to the front door, standing next to a confused Levi.

“You know her?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, from our cadet years. She didn’t join the Scouts though.” His gaze shifted from Levi’s eyes to the floor, an unreadable expression painting his face. “She’s also a Marleyan Warrior.”

Annie’s eyes widened at the mention of the Warrior Program. Of course they found out...

Levi turned around to head back inside, deciding this was none of his business. “Take care of it Armin.” He let out a small chuckle before continuing. “I thought we were getting arrested again.”

Armin’s eyes followed Levi as he walked away, but he turned back to face the MPs and Annie once again. She admired him for a moment. He seemed more mature now, but at the same time, it seemed some of the childish wonder had left his eyes in place of a more hopeless, dead look in his eyes. Such was to be expected of a soldier long at war.

“What are you doing here?” Arming questioned, staring at Annie.

“I... uh...” It wasn’t until now that she considered that admitting the only reason she was here was her lovesickness would be a little embarrassing, but she had to explain. Still, she altered her motives just a little bit so she wouldn’t seem so hopelessly devoted to you. “I broke out of the crystal... somehow... and I just wanted to visit you all one more time.” Even if she wasn’t directly speaking about you, admitting that she missed any of the people from her cadet days made her fluster up a little bit.

Armin stepped out of the way, beckoning her and the MPs to come inside. She stepped inside curiously, gazing at the inside of the building. It doesn’t seem half bad in here...

The MPs followed her cautiously, and still held both of her arms securely behind her back. Armin saw this, and motioned with his hand for them to let go, before speaking calmly.

“She’s not a threat, you can release her.”

The MPs loosened their grip on Annie, allowing her arms to fall comfortably at their sides. The two officers stepped back and against the wall, deciding to stay there to observe the situation.

Annie took the time to gaze around at the soldiers surrounding her. People looked on at her with many emotions. Some were indifferent, since they didn’t know her, but many were weary of her Warrior status, and a select few stared at her with pity-filled expressions. She continued to look to see if she recognized anyone in the crowd. Most faces were unfamiliar, but certain people stood out to her from her memories. Mikasa, Eren, Connie, Jean, Sasha... she glanced around, searching for the faces of her old comrades, but more so, she was looking for you.

“Everyone has changed a lot, haven’t they?” Armin sighed, looking at the ground with a look of sad nostalgia.

After a few more seconds of searching, she failed to find your beautiful e/c eyes anywhere in the room, and the seed of worry in the pit of her stomach began to grow, her palms growing clammy with anxiety.

“Where is Y/n?” She spat out abruptly, worry evident in her voice. She couldn’t bear any small talk at this point, she just desperately wanted to see where you were.

Her eyes widened as she looked back to Armin. His mournful expression by itself answered her question clearly, but she refused to pay any attention to it.

She gazed around at the others in the room desperately. Everyone from the 104th Cadet Corps (in other words, everyone that knew about the Annie’s relationship with the h/c haired girl) had the same expression.

Their faces were all laced with the same emotion.

Pity.

The kind of pity that you see when a neighbor has to tell the little kid down the street that the family puppy got hit by a car, or the kind of pity that you have when somebody gets their life’s work stolen from them, or, in this case, the kind of pity where you are forced to tell a distraught individual that their lover died at war. That kind of pity.

She didn’t want to believe it. No, she couldn’t believe it.

She couldn’t be bothered to close her slacked jaw, or to hide the distress on her face as she waits for the possibility that she was reading the room wrong.

Armin looked to his side, averting his eyes. He truly couldn’t find it in his heart to answer the question.

It wasn’t until the distinct clacking of boots on the hardwood floor started to approach her that she snapped out of her trance.

The person approached Annie slowly, but calmly, and Annie took a moment to scan her face. The stranger was decorated with a Scout badge on her shoulder, and a shiny medal hung from their neck. They had auburn/brown hair that was tucked into a loose ponytail behind their head, and an eyepatch covering their left eye.

The person had a sorrowful look as they grabbed Annie’s limp hand and encased it in their own.

“I am Hange Zoe, commander of the Scouts.” They said courteously. They bowed her head in mourning and respect as she continued on. “It’s my displeasure to have to inform you of this, but during a semi-recent mission to the city of Liberio, Y/n was shot and killed by a Marleyan.”

All of the sudden, everything stopped.

No sound, no motion, no nothing. It had just... frozen.

She had a feeling that the person in front of her was still talking, based on the fact that their lips were still moving, but she couldn’t hear them. She couldn’t hear anything. All that enveloped her ears was ringing. Painful, painful ringing.

She had stopped shaking, and she was certain her hand had gone cold in the other person’s grasp.

She didn’t understand it at all.

“How...” A barely audible whisper ghosted from her lips, and Hange’s word stopped in their throat. “How did this happen?” She grit her teeth and spoke out shaky words of disbelief. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes and threatened to spill down her cheeks. “How did someone like her... die...?” The last word of her sentence was so light in volume, yet so heavy in emotion. It’s almost as if the blonde girl couldn’t even comprehend the word itself.

“It was a warrior candidate.” Someone spoke from the other side of the room, and both Annie and Hange turned to look. The speaker leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, a scowl adorning his features.

“Floch, now isn’t the time-” Hange quietly tried to coax the man into shutting up and letting Annie grieve, but he continued to speak.

“That little bitch- she climbed aboard the ship using stolen ODM gear, took a gun, and shot into the crowd of soldiers blindly. Hit Y/n in the chest, she dropped to the ground in seconds.” He continued to explain so nonchalantly, as if the death of a comrade was just another casualty in his eyes. His calmness made Annie want to knock him out cold, but she wanted him to finish. She desperately needed to know.

“We beat the shit out of her for a minute- her and some other little blonde kid. They’re in holding cells downstairs as we speak.” Annie’s eyes widened as she thought about her girlfriend’s killer residing in the same exact building as her. Dark thoughts of violence flashed through her mind as she imagined all the things she would do to the murderer if she just got a chance. All she needed was a few minutes.

“I wasn’t with her when she died, but Mikasa, Armin, and Connie were. I think her last words were directed to you, but I don’t remember what she said.” He folded his arms and looked away, a subtle indication that he had finished speaking.

The room was still with tense, stagnant air. No one moved, nor spoke. Annie tried desperately to gather her thoughts, to try and think rationally about all of this- but she couldn’t. Rage and sorrow flooded her mind, and any other thoughts were just a blur. She was going to go confront this person. No, she swore, she was going to kill her.

Taking advantage of the stagnant environment (and the MPs questionable devotion to their guard duties) Annie made a mad dash towards the hallway.

The tears were rolling down her cheeks unrestrained now, and she made no effort to wipe them away. Normally, she would never let anyone see her this emotional. Well, no one other than you, of course.

She ran to the end of the hallway, and found the staircase that led to where the supposed murderer was- the basement. She swore she could hear chaos filled yells from behind her, but she couldn’t pick out if they were directed to her or this “Floch” guy, and frankly, she didn’t care.

She rushed down the stairs, nearly tripping because of how hurried she was, and reached the only jail cell that remained locked.

Gazing through the bars, she was met with two figures, both sitting slumped on the beds. One had short blonde hair, with a lost and confused look in his eyes, while the other had the same auburn hair as Hange, alongside chestnut colored eyes that were swelled over in rage. They looked battered and filthy, but that was to be expected of any prisoner of the Scout Regiment.

Still, their faces ignited a twinge of sympathy in Annie’s bruised heart. They were the faces of children. Lost, confused- they hadn’t began to even sort the world out. They still had lives to live, so much opportunity ahead of them. Opportunity that was not to be found in the Warrior Program.

Regardless, nothing could stop her from getting to that child on the other side of the bars. The anger in her eyes would easily single her out as the guilty party. No one with kind eyes, like the blonde boy’s, could have done this.

The children gazed upon her, mostly with confusion, but also a mix of fear and apprehension. Despite her relatively small size, she could look pretty damn intimidating when she was pissed.

A swift, but strong kick hit the ancient rusty lock, and it snapped open easily. The forced of the kick cause the door to swing wide open, and no longer did anything separate her from the monster that just crumbled her world from all around her.

Dangerously slow steps approached the girl as she gazed on with both fear and aggressive apprehension. The blonde boy could do nothing but watch bewilderedly.

“You...” A low whisper escaped Annie’s throat, like the shriek of a ghost trying to breach the worlds between the living and the dead.

She stopped walking when she reached the bed, and she gazed at the floor silently. She wondered if this was the sympathy that lay locked in her heart. She couldn’t say she didn’t understand the girl, after all, Annie was a warrior candidate once too. She knew what it was like, the desperation to get picked and become an honorary Marleyan, and to not disappoint your family- she got it. It led you to do a lot of things, and she couldn’t help but feel bad for anyone caught up in the twisted program, especially since she was only a child, twelve at most.

The flicker of empathy that burned quietly in her chest was quickly snuffed out, however, as images of your bleeding form crying out for her, alone and in pain, floated in her mind tauntingly.

She grabbed her right arm with her other hand, and let out hushed breath, before leaning her head back and bursting into hysterical, almost maniacal, laughter.

None of this was fair at all. Why did she lose you? Why did you have to die? Why you? Why? Why why why why why why-

“WHY?!” She suddenly screamed, tugging on the front of the girl’s shirt and throwing her across the room carelessly, adrenaline flowing through her and giving her all the strength she needed.

The girl collided with the wall with a thud, and fell into a heap on the floor with a yelp. But, Annie wasn’t done. She marched over and picked up the girl by the collar and slowly raised her off of the ground. She held her against the wall with fury in her eyes, and the girl winced in pain as her feet lifted from the floor and kicked helplessly into the air.

“WHY DID YOU HAVE TO DO IT?!” Annie screamed, her eyes wide with trauma and lips frozen in a broken frown. “WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE HER, DAMMIT?! DID YOU EVER THINK BEFORE YOU CHOSE TO KILL SOMEONE?! WHAT THEY MIGHT MEAN TO SOMEONE?!”

Annie vigorously shook the terrified girl, trying desperately to get some sort of point across. Any point was lost in the translation of anger and grief, however. But for now, scaring the shit out of this girl would have to do.

“Dammit...” The tears that had been held back for so long started to flow once again. All she saw was you... your smile, your laugh, everything about you was just so perfect. She yearned to see you just one more time, and to have one final conversation with you.

“Dammit! Don’t you understand?! I was going to spend the rest of my fucking life with that girl! We were gonna get married and settle down and live a normal fucking life! That’s all I ever wanted! I was supposed to be there for her through everything, and you let her die cold and alone because of what?! What did you gain out of this?! Do you feel proud?! Satisfied?! Do you enjoy the blood on your hands?!”

Her hands stilled around the stiff fabric of the shirt that she still clenched in her hands. The girl had giving up on clawing Annie’s grip from her- Annie wouldn’t let go.

A final, lowly chuckle left her lips, her hands slowly relaxed, and the girl slowly slid down the wall, and her feet connected with the ground at last, but the girl didn’t run away. She could, if she truly wanted to, but she stayed there in the blonde girl’s grip. Perhaps guilt, or perhaps fear. Annie couldn’t tell, of course. Her vision was too blurry from tears to make out facial expressions.

Sobs started to wrack Annie’s body as she struggled to keep her composure, and one of her hands left the worn shirt to instead go up to her mouth, covering her mouth as she started to breakdown further into grief.

“I... I loved her...” She chocked out quietly. “I loved her so much... and now... I’ll never get to... see her again.” Her other hand finally let go of the cloth, and she leaned that arm against the wall for support as she leaned her trembling body onto it, her forehead meeting the cold stone.

The final realization of her lover’s death hit her like a brick as her sobs wrecked helplessly through her body, and she shut her eyes in mourning, or perhaps to pretend that nothing had even changed at all...

“I... I miss her...”

She stood there for a moment, and although she could feel the gazes of the two children on her, she didn’t care. She stood there in silence, crying silently in vain for her lover to return to her.

After what felt like hours, a gentle hand placed itself upon Annie’s shoulder. She turned around hesitantly, and was met with Armin’s saddened gaze.

“Annie, I...” He averted his eyes and gazed at the two children still inside the cell, as well as Mikasa, Connie, and Jean, who all appeared silently in front of the open prison door. “I think it’s time to go.”

---

“Her last words?” Connie questioned sorrowfully.

“Yes.” Annie leaned her back against the stone grave and gazed into the moon as it began to rise elegantly over the horizon. “What did she say?”

“Well...” His eyes darkened as he slowly started to recount the events that unfolded that day.

“When she was first shot... and I ran to her side to try and talk to her, and see how bad it was. She said your name, Annie. I thought it was a little strange at first, until she cupped my cheek and smiled at me. She lost a lot of blood, and fast, so I figure that she may have been hallucinating, and thought I was you for some reason.” He chuckled painfully at that, conflicted on whether to be sorrowful or nostalgic about that moment.

“I was screaming at her to hold on until we arrived at the island, but there was just too much bleeding. There was nothing that we could do. But, she told me something else right before she died...”

-

“Hey, Annie... Don’t be sad, okay? I promise you... w-we... will meet again sometime. Maybe another life, or in heaven... I don’t really care. I don’t really want you to forget me, but... let me go. You have your own life to live, even if mine ends... here. This is a senseless war anyways. But... if even just my sacrifice... can slowly bring... c-closure to all this fighting... than it’ll have been worth it, I promise you. So, in that regard, I don’t regret anything. Just... stay strong for me, Annie... I l-love you...”

-

Connie finished speaking, and turned his back away from Annie respectfully as the tears started to fall yet again.

“Try not to get too cold out here...” He stated bluntly before leaving.

After a few minutes, and she was sure he and anyone else was gone, she slowly shifted to lay right underneath the tombstone. The moon now shone brightly upon her, and reflected beautifully against the grave stone. She didn’t figure that this was how she would be spending her night with you, but she felt a least a little solace in being alone with you again, under the vast, unaware stars that freckled the night’s sky above.

Her mind having finally been cleared, she came up with a conclusion that she was honestly ashamed for not reaching earlier.

This was a senseless war. A war where everyone is a victim. It wasn’t Annie’s fault, nor was it yours, or Eren’s, or even Gabi’s- as she had soon learned was the girl’s name. All this fighting amounted to nothing but bloodshed and loss.

She peered around her surroundings, and pondered if every solemn gravestone belonged to someone who was loved in the same way that she loved you. She stopped to wonder, as well, about all the Scouts she had murdered during that time as the female titan. She thought back to Marco, as well. All of it was pointless. Every single person meant something to someone, and she was so cruel for ripping that away. This stupid war- she should say- is cruel for ripping it away.

War never felt so cruel until it affected her like this.

It was like your final conversation that she could ever have with you, one that she would have from beyond your grave. A conversation of ideas, and of hope for a future without bloodshed.

Truly, the reality of it started to set it. Even without you, she would do all she could to stop the bloodshed. It meant sacrifices. Sacrifices, most notably, like you. She would’ve given anything for you to be at her side- to end this conflict with her, but she sighed as she figured that it just wasn’t meant to be that way. Your death wasn’t in vain, though, as it helped her understand.

With or without you, she would fight to end this war, no matter the costs.

WHY IS THIS SO LONG HOLY-

i did this instead of maintaining a consistent posting schedule...

Still, I hope you don’t mind how unusually long and detailed this is, I may have gotten a little hooked on the prompt.

Hope you enjoyed it, after all that effort lmaooo

[d-criss-news]

Darren Criss Suits Up In Francis Libiran For His Christmas Soundtrack, A Very Darren Crissmas

It’s beginning to sound a lot like Christmas.

Following the success of Masquerade, Darren Criss is extra prolific in the music department this year as he is set to spread Christmas cheer with the release of his holiday-themed album, A Very Darren Crissmas.

While it can be greatly argued that all things considered, it doesn’t quite feel like the holidays just yet, especially in the strictest sense of Filipino culture, it is beginning to sound a lot like Christmas for sure. Just like clockwork, the spirit of the season was soundtracked by the likes of Mariah Carey, Jose Mari Chan, and of course, the good ‘ol classics, the onset of the ber months immediately felt warm, nostalgic, and even for a little bit, joyful. Whether it be more traditional or pop-laced, or if you are a fan of the holidays, there is something comforting about carols and songs particular to Christmas, so much so that for the longest time, musicians find some sort of success when they release yuletide-themed music. Joining the bandwagon, or dare we say, the sleigh, is Darren Criss, as he is set to release A Very Darren Crissmas.

“It really was only a matter time,” writes Darren Criss on Instagram ahead of the release of A Very Darren Crissmas. “I always knew that if I ever made Christmas album, it would have to be much more than just a collection of songs you already knew.” True enough, following the reveal of the holiday compilation tracklist, there are a few standards, but in a prolific effort, the originals stand out more, featuring self-penned tracks and interesting collaborations (Adam Lambert, Evan Rachel Wood, Lainey Wilson). “With songs you know, songs you don’t, songs you thought you knew…and songs you never knew you needed,” as the teaser of the tracks says, this musical undertaking is not only carefully thought of, but close to his heart as well.

Taking On Christmas Cheer

“I’d want it to be a journey through songs that not only had a personal significance to my life, but also a unique introduction to songs folks had never heard before, and a re-introduction to a few they might think they know—but have never considered differently,” Darren Criss further expands on the premise of A Very Darren Crissmas. “Every eclectic choice led this album to feel astutely true to its namesake: a very, indisputably, ‘me’ Christmas.”

Making it even more unique to himself and his definition of the holidays, the album art features Darren Criss as different members of his own family. With nothing more Christmas-y than that, the award-winning actor, musician (who also just recently released, Masquerade), and OG StarKid is seen in a very holiday image where he is dressed up as his late father, his mother, his brother Chuck, and his younger self. Sitting by the piano holding out a plate of treats is present-day Darren Criss, suited up in robe-like formal in marsala brocade by Filipino designer, Francis Libiran.

Always loud and proud about his Filipino roots, Darren Criss has been known to honor his heritage whenever possible. Whether be in interviews, part of his characters (see: Hollywood, The Assassination Of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story, and Trese), and fashion, there will always be a nod to the Philippines. In fact, this isn’t the first time he is wearing a Filipino designer.

Ever since they got connected at the 76th Golden Globes in 2019, the two artists have struck a creative bond. From The Outstanding Filipino Americans virtual awards show, the premiere of Aladdin in Hollywood, and most importantly, the reception following his wedding to Mia Swier, Darren Criss always found the perfect occasion to wear a bespoke Francis Libiran piece. The latter was the most special as they collaborated on the design elements on the piña barong tagalog with Pintados tattoo-like details to hero Cebu, the hometown of his mother, Cerina.

Raring And Ready

For A Very Darren Crissmas, a more refined and rich take on the holidays was the main consideration of Francis Libiran for the wine and gray silk brocade suit of Darren Criss. A fresh take on the traditional suit, the precision of menswear relents to the graceful curves of the lapel that extends to a nice bow, in the spirit of gift-giving, of course. “The patterns used on the suit are elegantly unorthodox, highlighting a part of him who daringly embraces the beauty of being different,” details the Filipino designer in our interview. “Here we are, absolutely humbled that Darren decided to wear us for his Christmas album.”

As if echoing the vibrant visual of A Very Darren Crissmas and the Francis Libiran suit in particular, the lead single of the musical exposition is equally bold and considered. Realized in a rousing big band orchestration, Happy Holidays/The Holiday Season is more than enough to shift your mood and slowly get into the swing of the season. Indulging in the cheer and the charm of Christmas, Darren Criss is raring and ready to redefine his holidays, dutifully inviting you into his family for a very Darren Crissmas.

Was Darren Criss hands on? How did the creative process go, despite the pandemic?

We basically presented him with style options, and then he gets to pick which one he prefers to wear. The great thing about him is that he is so open to experiment with different styles or color combinations, so it wasn’t difficult to work with him. Due to the pandemic, all of our consultations are conducted virtually, so if we need to clarify anything with Darren’s team, we discuss it online.

What were the inspirations that were worked on for this particular look?

The inspiration behind the wine and gray silk brocade suit was a combination of muted elegance and sharpness of character. It was basically Darren in a nutshell: he is a star that shines so brightly every time he delivers a performance, but he is a grounded person who never shies away from his roots.

What is it like working and collaborating with Darren Criss, especially with A Very Darren Crissmas?

Working with Darren never felt like work, actually. He is an easy person to talk to, and like I’ve said, we’ve already established a friendship. Our working relationship is mutually beneficial through our support for each other. I’d be very happy to collaborate with him in his future events soon!

A Very Darren Crissmas by Darren Criss is set to release on October 8, 2021 wherever you stream music.

[bookofmirth]

You Are My Almanac - elucien 1

Summary

Elain Archeron finds herself stuck in an engagement that her mother had arranged before her untimely death. Elain is determined not to like the man and to create a solitary life leading her household the way she wants, but her fiancé has an annoying habit of making her like him.

AO3 | tags: arranged marriage, Regency-era inspired but not faithful. These two are wary of one another and I got a bit snarky when I wrote this first chapter because I want it to be fun, not super angsty. Oh also the title is from the song almanac by Purity Ring.

Elain had perfected the art of staring out a carriage window without being jostled around like a dice in one of the cups her sisters used when playing one of the games played with guests after dinner. Their mother disapproved of the games, of course, but that hardly mattered when all it took to please her was an appropriately humble “yes ma’am” whenever it was required. And it took Elain quite an effort to remain upright and steady in the carriage as it traveled over the country roads, but it was suffer a sore back and look lovely as possible for her current rendezvous, or suffer the mortification. Elain would much rather maintain appearances. At least for now.

Because now, Elain could say “yes ma’am” or “please, maman”, until she was blue in the face, and it would be for nothing, since her dear mother had upheld her promise to see Elain engaged to a fine, wellbred young man with a suitable income, but then she had died before bothering to see what Elain thought of the man, or even introducing them.

For Elain was on her way to meet her betrothed. The word rolled off the tongue, betrothed, or it had, when she was still a child and had imagined that she would have any choice in the matter. When the word still held a sense of romance and promise.

And Elain Archeron had found herself betrothed, that was certain, though it had happened quite without any influence or input from herself.

She had a vague idea of the kind of man she wanted to marry. Kind and considerate, tall, a handsome rider, with extensive property and an income that would support her in at least the style to which she was currently accustomed, if not better. Elain was firm in her belief that she wasn’t asking for much. If he were political minded then that might suit her even better, as she had always imagined hosting important people at her dinners, not just the Beddors from down the lane.

Who were the Vanserras, anyway? Elain had never heard of the name, had never seen it when she flipped through the pages of Burke’s Peerage, Baronetage, and Knightage, not to mention that the family lived very far away!

Or that might have been a complaint Elain would have lodged to her sisters, had they not also found themselves engaged and then married to men who lived in that part of the country which Elain had heard described as “lovely, in the right light and at certain times of year”.

Elain’s knowledge of the rest of the country was limited, to be sure. But she didn’t much like the idea of being thrust into a new home, with a man she didn’t know, in a town where she hadn’t even established a proper seamstress. It was important to find one who wouldn’t give her that look when she came in with tattered, muddy skirt hems. Her cheeks heated at the idea of her future husband scolding her about the zeal with which she engaged in her hobbies.

When the carriage came to an abrupt halt, Elain realized that Feyre had been talking for the last minute or so and Elain hadn’t caught a word. She looked at her sister, younger and yet more worldly than Elain ever hoped to be. Where Elain knew people, Feyre understood the bigger picture of what it took to survive.

She gave her sister a small smile and Feyre reached across the carriage to pat Elain’s hand.

“I’m sure he will be perfectly nice, dearest. And if he isn’t, there are plenty of ways of ensuring that your husband stays out of your hair. Not that I would need them.” Feyre said this last part with a small, secret smile.

Elain fought the urge to roll her eyes. “If it comes to that, I’ll be sure to come to you, Feyre. You are one of the lucky ones though, you know.” The door to the carriage opened and Elain held out her hand without a glance at the footman. “Not everyone is so lucky as to marry for love.”

The sisters stepped from the carriage, the gravel of the drive crunching under their shoes. Elain held a hand up to her forehead to shield the sun from her eyes. She was unable to take in the manor in one glance, and turned in a full circle to take in as much of the property as she could before meeting her fiancé and going inside her future home. To her doom.

At least this man, Lucien Vanserra, had a man to keep his grounds meticulous. The shrubbery had been cleverly chosen and the flowers were full of pollinating bees, which would make for interesting experiments in cross-pollination, though perhaps she might do something about the grove of fruit trees - they were too far away from the water source to be effective. And Elain wondered at the status of the fruit, how much of it went to use in the house and how much went to the local residents. Hopefully - Elain grimaced at the thought - it didn’t fall to the ground and go to waste.

Elain felt a tug at her elbow and turned to find Feyre, waiting with her head inclined to the door. The front door, underneath a large, elaborately-carved portico, where the first footman stood at attention, waiting to usher the women into the home. And to his left, a tall man with fiery red hair, tied back with a black ribbon, stood waiting to greet her.

Elain’s breath caught to see him. He was younger than she had expected. She wouldn’t have put it past her mother to bridle her with a septuagenarian if he had offered the right price. So that this man, this Mr. Vanserra, was at most ten years older than her… Elain was disappointed to find herself pleased. And he certainly was well-acquainted with a proper clothier, if the fit of his vest and trousers were any indication.

Feyre stepped forward first. “Lucien! It is so good to see you.”

Mr. Vanserra lowered his head slightly. “Lady Chevalier, thank you for visiting my home today. I hope that Rhysand is doing well.”

“’Lady Chevalier’ my eye, call me Feyre, Lucien.” She took his hands into her own and it seemed that he might have reciprocated her familiarity had Elain not been there. His eyes flicked to her and then back to Feyre, seeming to already be wary of how he appeared to her.

“Lucien, this is my sister, Elain.”

The rest of the greeting hung in the air and Elain could have tasted the words. Elain, your fiancée. Elain, the woman you have never met but who will share your bed. She nearly reddened at the thought and forced herself to pay attention to the situation at hand.

Lucien turned away from Feyre and took a step closer to Elain.

Elain curtsied. “Mr. Vanserra. You have a lovely manor.” And hopefully, I won’t see much of you in it, she added silently to herself.

Lucien lifted Elain’s gloved hand to his lips, pressing so softly that she wasn’t sure when it was over, if he had actually made contact. Wouldn’t have known it had happened, really, if not for the slight warming of her skin.

“Miss Archeron,” he said, bending at the waist, “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Allow me to welcome you to my home.” His eyes alighted on hers as he said the words - my home - for it wasn’t their home yet. And they were both painfully aware that it would be.

Lucien extended his hand to gesture at the imposing double-doored entrance and stood upright.

Elain lowered her head slightly in deference. “Thank you for the welcome. The property really is lovely,” she couldn’t help adding. Lucien looked into her face with earnestness and she took note of the golden warmth of one eye, while the other was traversed by a brutal scar, one she wouldn’t have expected to see on a Lord of the peerage. “The grass is… very green.”

“Ah, yes,” Lucien responded. He took a step back and surveyed the lawn as if he hadn’t noticed its color before. “I had it specially grown. Just for its…. verdancy.”

Her hand fell to her side when Lucien let go of hers, and she momentarily forgot what to do with it. She glanced at Feyre, whose hands were clasped together in front of her waist, and Elain mirrored the posture.

“Well, ladies. I have had tea set out for us. I’m sure you could use some refreshment after your travels.”

Feyre made a small curtsy in response and Elain fell into line behind her.

The first footman hurried ahead of them and opened the front door. The interior of the home was a dark, yawning chasm.

And with that, Elain took a step forward, into the home of her future husband.

***

Thanks for reading! You may have noticed my tag list has disappeared. If you want to be on it again, even if months or years pass without an update, let me know! Sorry if you have requested in the past and intended to stay on it forever, I just figured that things change in the years since I started writing fanfic. 💕