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#been brainrotting about these two for the last several days
the-sky-queen · 5 months
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Long Time No See - 1/4
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dreaming-tonite · 1 year
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Pierced (through the heart)
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A/N: my last time writing anything of any kind that isn't academic was 2 years ago and if I say I'm not rusty that would be one major fucking lie but the brainrot is real and I just need to get it out LMAO
Pairing: Hobie Brown x afab!reader
Warning: pwp, my Hobie Brown body (dick) piercing agenda, very brief oral (giving), I’m very horny for this man and it isn’t very hard to tell
Word count: 1.3k
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Hobie Brown had a penchant for putting holes in himself, quite literally, and if anything, it was perhaps one of the first things you noticed about him.
(You told him the piercings were what got you, but even he would know that it was a pathetic attempt of a cover-up on why it seemed so hard for you to peel your eyes off of him. But bless his heart, he only took your deflection with a knowing glance and a slight, smug tug at the corner of his lips.)
(Since we all knew, the piercings were just the tip of your downfall when it came to this man.)
You probably knew where each stud was placed better than you know your own face — two on both brow bones, several running up the curve of his lobes, an industrial of his left ear that he got after a drinking game at the pub which he usually left empty.
He had made sure to tell you that it was, in fact, a drinking game that he won, but decided to do it anyways for the spirit.
Hobie was anything but a lightweight, which you would have believed even without much convincing, but there was something about the way he had to let you know that simply made you want to pretend otherways just to rile him up.
There was the one at the side of his nose that appeared out of nowhere one day but suited him so well it almost seemed like he was born with it. This was where you slipped, when you pretended to notice it sometime into your conversation, as if you didn't pick it up as soon as you took your first proper look at him that day, and asked as nonchalantly as you could if it was new.
But he left you no mercy that time, because he too would be lying if this wasn't exactly what he wanted.
"Huh," he hummed, the sound rumbling from the back of his throat and sending shivers down your spine as he looked at you straight. The glimmer in his eyes was evident even under the dimmed lights of the noisy pub, the drumming of your pulse louder than the bass pounding in your ear when his lips split into a teasing grin, "someone's been keeping notes on me, hm?"
He wouldn't admit the fire that set off when you looked away shyly, confirming that it hadn't just been wishful thinking on his part that you looked at him differently than you did anyone else.
Then there was the truly distracting one, your one true vice. You melted into puddles the first time you felt his lip ring on you in the form of a sloppy, heated kiss at the alleyway after one too many shots, the explosion of one too many stolen glances and lingering touches until the tension finally broke.
His hot breath fogged your sense until all that was left was him — the mix of beer and liquor in his mouth; calloused hands from years of guitaring grabbing you at the waist and holding you flat against him when your knees got weak; the slight chap of his lips reminding you that this moment was so, so real when you were starting to wonder if you had simply dreamed this all up.
Your fingers clawed at the fabric of his sleeve, bodies curving into each other.
And there it was, that darn lip ring in the middle of all this.
He swore he could have combusted when your teeth tugged at the ring slightly as you parted, your eyes hazed over and glassy from desire.
It glistened under the lights and you nearly let out a pathetic whimper when his tongue ran across his bottom lips, pushing the ring to the side in the process.
"My place or—"
"Yes," you felt braver than you had ever been and your hand tugged at the front of his vest as you repeated, lips just hovering next to his, "yes."
Hobie Brown usually had a lot to say about most things, but even he could not spare one more second to utter another word in that instance.
You thought that he already had quite a few going on above the neck, you had no idea what you were in for until the clothes come off.
His shirt was the first to go in a messy tugging of hands, immediately revealing the several studs lined up at his collarbone, prominent and calling out for your attention. You would have spent your sweet time sucking and nibbling on him if he would let you, but neither of you was in the mood for all of that pretence after such a long wait.
Next time, you thought to yourself, lips trailing down the center of his chest as he leaned against the mattress, head throwing back when he felt your hands grabbing impatiently at his belt.
The buckle clamoured before coming undone and with it the thick, studded belt that he always had on. One thumb hooked under the elastic of his underwear, the faint happy trail lined up under his naval beckoned your eyes lower as he pushed his skin-tight trousers down.
Nothing could have prepared you for what you saw.
Two more, sitting at the crook of his pubic bone, as if the sharp line that made up the downwards V was not enough for the eyes. You gulped as your gaze drailed further south, your face heating up as you took in his half-hard erection.
There was no way this man didn't know what he was doing with all of this.
The bar nuzzling underneath the base of his shaft was just the tip, you could not help but press your thighs together when you saw the many silver studs lined up on the downside of his pulsing cock, a thick vein popping just underneath that glaring ladder of bars.
There you were, on your knees between his thighs as fabric pooled around his ankle, warmth pooling up in your mouth and traveling to your core while he stared right at you. Dark eyes hooded with lust, you wanted to whimper when his palm reached down to your head, tipping you back just so gently that you were facing him directly.
The other hand found its way to the base of his cock, fisting it in his hand. He could be so show off sometimes, lips curling when your eyes widened at the shiny silver at the crown of his tip.
You darted your tongue out when you followed the silver ball to see the bead of pre leaking from the slit.
"You gonna do something, or you're just gonna stare?"
He did not have to ask twice, and the loud groan he let out when you took him into your mouth almost made you cum without being touched right then and there, the bumps under your tongue as you started bobbing your head made you wonder just how heavenly it would be when you felt it inside you.
And as he usually did, it absolutely blew your mind.
Hobie Brown had and continued to have you in the centre of his palm, which you no longer cared to deny anymore. But even then, it was still completely out of hand when he just wandered in one day and tugged you to the side to a corner away from the crowd before rolling his tongue out without a warning.
The last thing you needed on this man is a tongue piercing, as if he wasn't already very good with his mouth already.
"You like?" he asked, smug and knowing.
Hobie let out a laugh when you tugged at him by the arm straight out of the door, not bothered at all when you turned around to send him a sharp glare.
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The Arcana HCs: How the M6 hurt you
~ I hope you're ready for some angst >:3 Even the healthiest relationships have painful moments when one hurting, flawed person hurts another hurting, flawed person. Moments like these are not signs of closeness. They are alarms that signal a need for growth, and a healthy relationship will take those signals seriously - brainrot ~
Here's the sequel!
How you hurt the M6
TW for yelling, references to canon death events, descriptions of panic attacks, abandonment, losing one's home, accidental gaslighting, burns, PTSD, violent outbursts (not character on character) and general trauma
Julian
It happened after a series of busy weeks. Julian had been pulling long hours at work, always gone before sunrise and back just in time for bed. You haven't been able to catch up with him in days
You're rather fed up too. Mazelinka and Portia had both stopped by multiple evenings to catch up, increasingly irritated with his absence while you hosted them and apologized on his behalf
And now he's home early, for the first time in what feels like a month, and you can see the toll he's taken on his body, and he's asking you to - spend the night working at the clinic with him?
"Julian, why do you want me to do this? I'm not a doctor."
"I know, I'm sorry, but there's a nasty cold spreading around. Right now the only treatment is to let the fever run its course, but with your help, I'm sure we'll able to find something!"
"Is the fever dangerous?"
"Well - it's not killed anyone, no - but what if it does? We need to be prepared. Just come with me for tonight, please?"
He's already shrugging his cape on at the door, holding your own coat out to you impatiently. You look at the exhaustion in his eyes and take his hand instead.
"Julian, you're tired. I'm tired. Why don't you rest for tonight? We haven't had a moment alone together in weeks, and people are worried about you."
Something about those words sets him off and he yanks away
"Worried about me? I'm not the one to worry about, people are sick, dammit!" His voice is rising in volume, a gloved hand waving around in angry desperation.
"They're asking for help and I'm the only one still trying! What was even the point of sticking around if you won't let me do anything useful with my life?!"
You would respond, but your throat's closing up in your effort to hold back tears and you don't want to look at him right now. You can feel his angry words sitting heavy in the silence, until he swears under his breath and slams the door
Moments later there's two de-gloved hands hovering by your face, a wavering voice full of regret trying to get your attention
"MC. MC I'm so sorry, I - I didn't mean it, please forgive me. You mean everything to me, and - and you're right, I shouldn't have yelled, and you're crying I - I'm so sorry, can you ever forgive me?"
He's shaken, shocked at his own words and full of shame at causing you pain, but refusing to leave until he knows you'll be okay. You're too tired and hurt to unpack everything right now so you grab a bit of his sleeve instead and make your request:
"We can talk in the morning, but can we sleep? Please?"
He'll nod and help you up the stairs and into bed, offering to exile himself to the couch if the space would help
You'll both fall asleep fairly quickly, but he's going to keep waking up through the night plagued with guilt and fighting the urge to leave so you can save yourself and move on
He'll let you know in the morning that he's really sorry and wants to talk about it too, and will take the next few days off of work to focus on resolving things and finding a way back to normal
Asra
You know for a fact that they're loyal to a fault and that they would never abandon you, but you two have been together for over a year now and they still forget to communicate with you ahead of time
He'd been unusually all over the place for the last month - disappearing with little notice for several days at a time, coming home to spend the night loving you, and gone the next morning
Every time they come back they're so happy to see you that you don't get the chance to ask how and where they've been, and every morning there's only the breakfast they made for you as evidence that they were even there in the first place
You've started to forget what it feels like to see him in daylight, so you decide to try bridging the gap. The next time you have him lying next to you, you ask for him to stay before dozing off:
"Have dinner with me tomorrow. I've missed you."
The next morning there's Faust and a note by your pillow, saying they'll be back at sunset and they'll bring food so you won't have to cook
Dinner is fun. He fixes you with that adoring gaze and gets you to tell him all about what you've been up to, even apologizing for not asking sooner. You get up to clear the table and brew some tea, and when you turn around he's at the door with his back to you
"Asra?" You can see the excitement in their motions as they shrug on their coat, eager to be off. They barely spare a glance over their shoulder as they heft their bag - still packed - onto their arm
"It's a moonless night, my love. The perfect time to start an adventure. I know you've been busy recently, so I won't push you to join me. We'll go together next time. Faust?"
The snake somehow notices your stricken face better than your beloved does. You barely get the chance to grasp what's happening as he bustles across the room to press a quick farewell to your frozen lips, heading out the door with an "I'll miss you!"
It's the sound of the door closing and the resulting, all-too-familiar silence that undoes you. You numbly put the half-filled teapot down and quietly curl up in Asra's chair, no longer fighting your tears as their lingering warmth begins to fade
"Haha! I forgot my hat. Why is the door still unlocked, M - MC? You're crying. What's wrong, what happened? Are you hurt?"
You can hear him rushing across the shop to get to you, sinking to his knees in front of the chair to get a better look at your lowered face. He's got a warm hand on your cheek, brushing your tears away while the other runs through his hair in concern
You can't move away before a hand comes to rest over your heart and you watch the face in front of you twist in pain and concern "MC - what's hurting you like this?"
You're not sure how it's not obvious to them, but you try to explain the best you can anyways: "You said you'd never go where I can't follow again, so - so why do you keep leaving? At least tell me when it's going to happen so I know what to expect."
It's clicking together in his mind now, and he's dropping his bag to clutch you to his chest and murmur apologies between kisses
They'll hold you as close as you let them that night, and stay home for the next few months to reestablish their missed connection with you. You'll be able to tell them eventually that you love their wanderlust - you just wish they'd do better at communicating
Nadia
One of the things that hurt the most when you first met her was how deeply her faith in herself had been broken. Always second guessing herself, doubting her intuition, and hesitating to act
She's the opposite of that now - a Countess more than worthy of leading Vesuvia out of its shambles - but sometimes you wish she would stop to think twice about things. Sometimes you wish she would stop to think twice about you, instead of just assuming
Like hearing her casually mention over lunch that she had received an offer for your shop and would need you to sign the paperwork tomorrow afternoon to confirm the handover
"Come again? Hand over my shop?"
She's still so deep in decision-making work mode that she forgets to read your tone, only pausing to sip from her cup and nod
"Nadia, why would I sell my shop?"
She smiles at you indulgently and calmly explains her reasoning, clearly under the impression that she's doing you a favor:
"You don't have any more need for it. You no longer use it for employment, as you are my lovely magician, you no longer use it for housing, as you are my partner, and you no longer use it for income, as I am committed to providing all your heart's desires. What's mine is yours and what's yours is mine, my darling."
You're beginning to feel panic well up in your chest. The way she speaks is so certain, the deal she mentions has already been struck, and you are about to lose the last piece of your life leftover from before the plague, and -
"MC, whatever's the matter? Are the dishes not to your taste?"
"No, I - Nadia, what's mine is still mine."
"Of course it is, dearest, now what's troubling you?"
You don't know how to explain this. It's as if you're slowly going crazy, panicking at the thought of losing something that is apparently so worthless to the rest of the world, and you're running out of calm ways to explain: "I don't want to sell my shop, Nadia."
Her eyebrows raise in concern. "Are you not adequately provided for?" You shake your head. She sighs in newfound understanding and takes your hand. "I understand that leaving an old house can be disquieting. I assure you, the freedom is entirely worthwhile."
"Nadia," you croak, "Nadia, it's not just an old house." You're rapidly losing the ability to see your plate clearly, but you need to speak before your voice fails. "It's all I have left from my family. It's all I have from before the plague. It's all I have -" your breaths are getting shaky, but you need her to understand, you need her to understand what she's doing - "It's all I have. It's my home."
You can tell the truth's caught up to her when you hear her knife clatter to the table. "MC, I'm so -" she chokes and stands. "I'll resolve this at once. I hope ... I hope you can forgive me."
That night, the relief on her face when you join her for dinner is plain as day. She brings it up as soon as you're alone together, determined to talk things through and reach an understanding so she can properly resolve things with you and do better
Muriel
Certain times of the year are particularly difficult for Muriel. Dr Nazali explained it to you once, how ex-soldiers will have worsened symptoms of combat fatigue on the anniversaries of major battles
For Muriel, it's the dates for all of the new festivals that the ex-Count introduced. City wide celebrations meant thousands more in the Coliseum stands, which in turn required more than double the opponents and cruel spectacles he had to participate in
Whenever the old festival dates roll around, you watch him revert to who he was when you first met him - a shell of a man handling his own haunting in the privacy of the woods
It's been especially rough this week. He rarely speaks and barely eats. He doesn't have the energy to pull his hair back anymore, and he's taken to sleeping on the ground so Inanna can have the bed again. Even the chickens seem concerned
So you try to pick up the slack. You keep the hut clean, offer to comb and braid his hair for him, bring him meals that are easy to keep down, and decline any activities that would force him to socialize
His response is to take the safety as his cue to mentally hibernate through the worst of it. It's afternoon now, and you haven't seen him move since he used the bathroom and ate this morning
"Muriel?" You see his shoulder twitch, but his chin stays sunk to his chest, eyes hidden by the curtain of his hair. "Muriel, can you eat?"
You walk over, purposefully slow so he can see you coming, and crouch next to him with a steaming bowl of broth. "Muriel, you need to eat something. You don't have to get up, just ... please try to drink at least a little of this?"
He turns to you with a sullen glare, completely unlike the gentle green you're used to getting lost in, and Inanna whines from her corner. His voice is gravelly from misuse when he speaks:
"Leave me alone."
"Muriel -" you make the mistake of touching his shoulder, and he flinches violently away from the touch. His flying elbow upsets the bowl in your hand and he turns to you with his arms hiding his face
"Leave. Me. Alone, MC. I don't want you here."
You'd normally try to be understanding, but the bowl he accidentally knocked over landed on your feet and the boiling liquid has splashed up your legs, soaking into your trousers, first burning and then steaming the stretch of skin beneath
It's the way that you're clenching your jaw to hold in a scream that snaps him out of it. He knows that look - he's seen it a hundred times before, but it's the first time he's seen it on you
"MC?" His eyes drop to the upended bowl, to the steam rising from your legs, and his face goes slack in horror
Acting purely on instinct, he swats the bowl aside and tears away the clothing burning into your skin. He has you in his arms and submerged in the cold spring outside in seconds
He's a lot more intentional about staying open to you during his bouts of PTSD now, but he doesn't drink broth any more
Portia
Ambassador trips get draining very easily, much more for Portia than for you. Nothing makes her happier than making everyone else happy, and diplomatic negotiations aren't necessarily the best place to be a people pleaser
It's been three straight days of back-and-forth. During Nadia's coma, a nearby city-state had been slowly encroaching on and taxing Vesuvian territory. If the injustice wasn't enough to get her blood boiling, it didn't help that one of the courtiers had it out for her Aunt Tasya
You, on the other hand, have been busy since you landed helping out the neighborhood around the dock. Magic users seem to be in short supply here, and your days have been tiring but fulfilling
You're sitting in the cabin now, struggling to keep your eyes open, when Portia thunders into the room and begins changing for bed while aggressively ranting
"Those bastards! The farmers have been working on less than two meals a day for the last year and half! And did you hear what they said about Aunt Tasya? Why, I oughtta -"
You're listening to and watching her, concern tugging at your heartstrings, but when she turns to look at your face she doesn't seem to see the reaction she was hoping for
"MC - are you even listening?"
"Yes, you were saying about your Aunt Tasya?"
She huffs and you see her upper lip curl into a sneer. "Oh, I see how it is. I'm just supposed to stand back and let you handle everything, right? Am I just some side character to you? Is that what you think of me?"
She's angrily shoving her hair out of her face, trembling with rage, and all you can feel is shock. Is that what she thinks of you?
"What is it, MC? Cat got your tongue? Are you too important to talk to me now?"
You rear back, head spinning from the hurt in her tone. "No! I don't think that about you at all!"
She slams her fists down on the table, the clatter of the plates on it chiming in with a broken sob. "What, so I come from nothing? I'm nothing but a - a shipwrecked orphan whose older brother couldn't even stick around?"
You're rooted in your chair, heart twisting at her words. Is that what they've been saying to her? "Portia, you're not nothing. You're out here making such a big difference in people's lives -"
"Oh, you mean like you? Like how everyone in town can't take their eyes off of you while I do the grunt work? Like how I save the world with you and you're all people can see? I may as well be invisible next to you!"
You're both frozen, staring wide-eyed at each other. You've known Portia could get jealous. You haven't seen this before. Your hands begin to shake under the table as her eyes go from shock to grief
"MC - MC I'm sorry, I'm so sorry ... I didn't mean it, I swear I would never mean it, it's those bastards who keep looking down on me and I thought ... maybe you were ... I'm sorry -"
It's a long night of whispered sorry's before you're in the space to hear her explanation. She's better at being open with you about her insecurities now, but any time her volume changes she walks away to cool off before continuing
Lucio
Lucio has a level of resilience that will never fail to surprise you
Of course, most of that comes from his tendency to live in the present. It makes confronting the past rather difficult, but once it's been dealt with, he sees no reason to dwell on it and can drop it faster than a hot potato
The only issue is that sometimes he's so quick to drop the past and stay in his present comfort zone that he's blinded to people who still need to spend time thinking about it
Even when it's you. Especially when you walk through a town that's been ravaged by a plague locals refer to as the "Yellow Death"
While Lucio seems antsy to pass through, you find your feet dragging slower and slower as you look at the carnage. Houses marked with a white circle are burnt-out shells in an effort to be rid of the plagued bodies within them and entire blocks are rubble
It's when you stray too close to one of them that your foot knocks against a charred child's toy, painted a strangely familiar pattern
You may not remember, but deep down you know that you knew someone who had one of these. Maybe it was you, maybe it was a friend, maybe it was a cousin?
"MC! Hurry up, we're walking here!" You can barely hear Lucio's voice over the dull roar in your ears, but you know he's nearby when two wet noses nudge themselves into your palms and an impatient hand nudges at your shoulder
"Come on, MC, you don't wanna stay somewhere this depressing."
A hand tugs on your elbow and you're finally able to shake your gaze loose from the eerily familiar blackened doorframe. Your eyes travel down to your palm where the toy still sits
Lucio follows your line of sight and flinches, a bead of sweat trailing down his temple as his smile gets tight
"MC? Let me take that, you don't want it. It's worthless anyway, whoever had it's been gone a long time." His grip is considerably rougher than yours, and you watch in horror as the little toy splinters between his fingers
"Ha! Look at that, gone like smoke. Let's go already, there's nothing worth looking at here. The town's empty, nobody's around to care about whoever died here. MC? MC you're shaking -"
You haven't felt this angry at him in a long time, and you know he's speaking from his stress and not from his mind, but you can't take another invalidating comment from him -
"Nobody cares about whoever died here? Gone like smoke?"
You see the blood leave his face and the fear take over as he realizes what he's said. "MC -"
"I was a person, Lucio. I had a life. Is that smoke to you too?"
"I'm sorry!" He's got your wrists in his hands, tugging you away from ruins that could too easily be your childhood home. "I'm sorry, but we need to get out of here first!"
You follow numbly, unsure of how to proceed while he drags you away from the ghost town. You're barely able to accept his touch as he holds you through the first panic attack of many
Lucio doesn't like dwelling on the past, but he's learning the hard way not to trample on others for needing to
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luneariaa · 5 months
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✧ reunion.
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✰ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : { ps5 } harry osborn x fem! reader.
✰ 𝐰. 𝐜. : 800+
✰ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : you and harry finally reunited with the others after some time apart.
✰ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : not much proofread + more of a test as to try writing him, harry might seem to be a lil ooc here prolly, random writing. also just pure fluff <33
✰ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 : been having a brainrot over him ngl like 💙 -- also, i had to do several researches about the game lmao,, he needs more attention ngl
. dividers by @/cafekitsune !! 🏹
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Slowly descending down the stairs, your eyes widened slightly at the mere sight ahead of you. Harry has finally returned after almost a year or so; his back is resting momentarily against the rear of his car, looking quite good as ever. Any other thoughts within you are gone in that moment, having your eyes straight at him.
Countless of thoughts have filled your mind, prompting you to remain still at your current spot as Peter and MJ rushes themselves to hug him, clearly have been missing his presence so much, and so did you. A small, yet tender smile is present on your features upon witnessing such a heartwarming sight.
Harry looks genuinely so happy like this, grinning from ear to ear. It's as if nothing bad has ever existed, even his illness. He's truly back.
When the three finally have finished with their little hugging session, the auburn-haired male finally has his gaze shifted towards you-- slowly beginning to approach your form as you did the same. He never forgets about you either; remembering those times when he got the chance to go on several little outings with you. Harry cherishes those days deeply.
"Hey." He begins with his usual charming smile etched upon his face, clearly directed toward you once he stopped just by a few inches away from your figure.
You returned his expression with a grin of your own, before responding back a "hey," before engulfing him into a tight embrace; one that is a mixture of longing and gratefulness.
He gradually wraps his arms around you as well; one of his hands gently held the back of your head, and the other around your waist with equal emotions being poured into it.
"I've missed you.." A soft murmur can be heard from him just right in your ear, "Missed you so much.."
The hug lasted longer than usual, though you didn't pay any mind to it. By this point, MJ has ushered Peter along to leave you two alone for now as you both are having your own moment.
"Have you been okay? God, I just missed you so much.." Harry keeps on repeating the last bits of his sentence, which elicited a light chuckle out of you as you're the first to slowly break away from the embrace.
Gazing up at him, your eyes possess the gentlest expression as ever as you spoke. "And I missed you so much too.. I've been okay, but it gets boring sometimes."
".. and I'm just glad that you're finally here."
You are still the same woman that he has grown fond of, ever since his high school years. You never changed much.
Without thinking twice and purely based on how much time he has lost, he leans forward a bit, and places a soft kiss on your forehead, before holding you into his arms once more. He couldn't even seem to be able to wipe off the grin from his face either.
The way he smiles, dare you say, is one of those things that you considered as precious and contagious-- easily affecting to those around him. Like how could you ever resist? You had no other choice, but to willingly return his actions without any hint of hesitation whatsoever.
"Did you cut your hair?" His sudden question interrupts your train of thoughts almost instantly, brushing several strands of hair that's been covering the half bit of your face.
The affectionate gesture alone has rendered you speechless for a while there, yet you still appear quite unfazed by it since his gentle touch itself is quite hypnotizing to be experienced on.
"Ah, you noticed," you chuckled amusingly. "I did cut it. Just a bit though."
You didn't expect that he could be this observant, but then again, it's Harry we're talking about here.
"I don't know how you did it, but you still look so absolutely stunning to me.."
He just couldn't tear his gaze away from you, and he has no intentions of doing so just yet. You get the sudden feeling that he wanted to finally try doing something rather bold soon; probably in his own way of saying thank you, or he merely wanted to prove something to you.
And you didn't have any intentions to refuse at all, as it is something that you've been longing to do since his absence as well.
Slowly, his fingertips grazes along the side of your face-- pulling your face closer to his as he begins to lean in, angled his head slightly to the side as if he's ready to seal the special, secret deal between you both.
With his eyes fluttering shut and his hand now moving up to hold the back of your head tenderly; the other around your figure, you started to show some signs of reciprocation as you did the same-- closing your eyes as you waited for his arrival toward the main destination that only you have possessed.
It's not for long anymore--
"Hey you lovebirds!" MJ's voice rang through the air with a teasing tone underlying within it, looking quite amused as ever by the whole ordeal uncovering ahead.
"It's getting cold out here!"
That's when you and Harry abruptly broke apart from one another, having this rather embarrassed expression plastered on your faces-- as if you both didn't just try to kiss each other.
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@luneariaa. do not repost; reblogs are alright. all rights reserved.
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tatertato · 9 months
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life series smp winners playlists part 1
okay so i've been just absolutely brainrotting over this for like weeks now and its time to finally post it!
i've basically just been compiling songs that i think fit each of the life series winners, and they're either songs i've seen work really really well in animatics already or songs that would probably work really well, but are less popular or not associated with this fandom (yet)
i'll be linking+listing them here as well as providing little snippets of explanation for why i think the song fits, but i don't feel like making actual spotify playlists or smth, so if anyone else wants to do that, be my guest.
ofc i still had trouble finding good songs for some of them- if anyone seeing this has a good idea that i missed, lmk and i'll update these posts (no promises tho)
i was originally gonna put all of them into one post, but fortunately i have come to my senses, so this is part 1. here we go!
update:
pt 2 (LL!scott)
pt 3 (DL!pearl)
3rd Life: Grian
Eighth Wonder - Lemon Demon: this song gives major Watcher!Grian vibes imo
Extra clever Earth-bound spirit Ghost in the form Of a mongoose (watcher in the form of a player)
Hello, I'm here I'm living in the wall I know I might be small (common headcanons of short grian, also living surrounded by cactus walls!)
Jim, let me go I watch like Hell (self-explanatory)
2. A Big Day for Grimley - AJJ: this one is because of this animatic, and also the lyrics fit the characters almost too well
I went back to the desert, little Midwest in me And now I am colder than I used to be (it feels like him reflecting on his experiences in 3L)
I came back to the desert, and the desert came into me And now there’s a quietness, and it’s deafening (returned to the desert for the final duel, and now that he's the only one left, the absence of his partner is deafening)
i could go on much longer about this song, but i feel like the animatic sums it up really well so GO WATCH THAT GO GO GO
3. Take Me to War - The Crane Wives: i know that everyone and their mother has done desertduo crane wives, but i've yet to see anyone use this song, which is a shame since its one of my favorites!
I've earned myself a reputation That my bark is much worse than my bite But I keep snapping at Goliath's hands With all of my tiny might (technically, he's not red, and also his traps keep failing, so the threats are pretty empty, but that will not stop him from being a menace)
Take me to war Honey, I dare you I'll be the sweetest thing To ever scare you Give me a fight I can't resist Give me something to break with my fists Take me to war Honey, I dare you (same thing as the last one, but i had to put the chorus in this post, it's just too perfect)
So I will leave it where it's standing And instead I will find me a match I'll turn it all to kindling I'll burn it all down to ash (we love a bit of arson in this fandom)
4. Community Gardens - The Scary Jokes: this is watcher!grian again, sorry not sorry- i do have a really vivid image in my head of an animatic for this song tho (the brainrot goes deep, i cannot escape)
Full disclosure, I am a monster A creature of despair, not that that should be a cause for concern (its so watcher coded im gnawing on the walls)
You'll be fine, you honeycomb Who could ever hurt you? Who could be so cold? You'll be fine, oh, honey pie Who could ever hurt you? Who could be so unkind? (ok so remember when i said i had an animatic idea about two sentences ago? ya. so i imagine this part as watcher!grian going through and causing the final deaths of all the winners (except scar we'll get there i promise) for instance, smiting scott at the end of LL, severing pearl's soulmate string in DL, and checking the time left before killing martyn in LimL)
The culmination of man's mistakes came the day The sun ran so hot, it turned the desert to glass (this is the whole "hail mary" thing where they blew up the whole desert and still didn't kill anyone)
If there's something to be learned from all these losers It's that the price that you pay For arrogance and a false sense of immunity Is to face the wrath of a dying star (false sense of immunity is scar's no kill passes, reputation points, etc., which really didn't mean all that much in the end (see: Bdubs))
5. Passerine - The Oh Hellos: aside from the obvious bird symbolism (passerine are songbirds), the overall theme of this song fits the character pretty well! (i think it could also apply to DL jimmy if you squint)
You were the song that I'd always sing You were the light that the fire would bring But I can't shake this feeling that I was only Pushing the spear into your side again (3L typical desert/light/sun/fire imagery, with a bonus helping this time of 3L typical self doubt and/or survivor's guilt! you love to see it)
My palms and fingers still reek of gasoline From throwing fuel to the fire of that Greco-Roman dream Purifying the holy rock to melt the gilded seams It don't bring me relief, no it don't bring me nothing (more arson what can i say- also the hollow existentialism that comes with killing your friends)
When he comes a knocking at my door What am I to do, What am I to do, oh lord (ok i like to imagine this line as grian realizing that scar's SL win means he goes to hang out with the winners now, meaning uhoh reunion time! that's about to be awkward!)
6. Do It All The Time - IDKHBTFM: yeah i know it doesn't seem like it fits at first, but i think parts of it captures the spontaneous silliness of 3L pretty well
No reason why I'm only doing anything I want to do Because I do it all the time We're taking over the world A little victim-less crime (making monopolies (or trying to) really just because)
Now we're so young But we're probably gonna die It's so fun We're so good at selling lies (this one's pretty on the nose, but you get the idea)
and that's all for grian! stay tuned for LL!scott next!
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italiantea · 3 months
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insomnia analysis bc i have brainrot
if anyone's interested here's my translation of the lyrics. with scribbly notes for further context
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thoughts and analysis under the cut because i can not shut up
first of all, the character's name: 淵 素直
eve-verse characters tend to have quite literal names, and this one is no exception.
his family name fuchi (淵), means 'abyss' or 'depths', and his given name sunao (素直) means 'honest', as in to be honest about your true feelings. this is fitting because fuchi's trauma stems from the familial circumstances he was born into, and throughout the song he learns to be honest to himself about his feelings.
at its core, insomnia is a song about self acceptance, about facing the damaged, ugly, and contradictory parts of yourself and accepting them as part of you. the lyrics mention two pronouns, 'I' and 'you'. however, throughout the mv, fuchi is really the only real character, with 'I' referring to his current self, and 'you' referring to his child self. and finally there's his zingai mr. creepypasta, which is arguably a manifestation of his own heart.
the mv also has several shots depicting fuchi's reflection in screens and mirrors, contrasting with his inability to see other people as human
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sidenote but the way the font of the lyrics changes based on which version of him is on screen is a nice touch. his child self is literally represented by a cuter, more childlike font.
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his child self represents the little boy he once was. a child who has been hurt, who gleefully wields a gun and sees people around him as balloons, like objects to be shot for target practice. this seems to stem from his fear of people's judgement, whether it be because of his obvious differences in appearance, or his violent urges which are seen as socially unacceptable.
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we can see from the start of the mv that fuchi struggles with suicidal urges and fantasies of hurting other people. he doesn't understand why he has these urges, and even though his trauma happened before he was old enough to fully understand or remember, it affects him deeply till this day.
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even when he tries to voice his thoughts to other people, they don't understand and he ends up laughing things off as a joke. he's unable to connect to others, partly because he's unable to connect with himself
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i find this part interesting because it doesn't explicitly use any pronouns. it can be inferred that the third line refers to others being appalled by his violent thoughts, but really the same sentiment applies to his own revulsion towards himself. he acknowledges that within his own thoughts is the only place he can remain true to himself; he cannot keep denying his ugly thoughts no matter how 'evil' they may be. at the end of the day, violent intrusive thoughts are just thoughts, and thoughts on their own are not 'good' or 'evil' (thoughtcrime aint real baby), nor are they representative of your true self.
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here he addresses his inner child directly: he wishes to understand him, and to do so without any moral judgement. he tells himself to overcome the night they can't return to, referring to his child self literally stuck in the past unable to move past his trauma. however, he also hopes that in the end they can make the right choices, and the two can meet in 'the right world'.
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fuchi represses his ugly thoughts, but they resurface in his dreams, leading to his insomnia. in the end it leads to him acting out his violent fantasies while sleepwalking, reenacting the same things his child self does in the earlier dream sequence.
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these lyrics i feel like (as well as being a reference to fight song) represent fuchi's mentality for facing the future. he's gone and done it now, caused unspeakable damage to multiple innocent people and the police are after him. but what else is there to do but keep moving forward? to keep struggling through no matter how bad things get, to continue having hope for the future? it's the last move on the board. it's your only choice.
insomnia is not a song about believing in the good in your heart and stopping yourself before it's too late. it's about picking up the pieces after the damage is done. as hard as he tried to make the right decisions, he ultimately failed due to circumstances out of his control. and still, life goes on.
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the lyric changes reflect this: he has ultimately failed to guide himself to the 'right' world. near the end, the opening shots in the mv repeat, this time depicting the city without his presence, after he has been locked up. (im reaching image limit here you know what im talking about)
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in the last part, fuchi faces himself, all the painful and ugly and contradictory parts, and embraces them as part of himself.
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the one wielding the gun is himself. the one wrestling the gun away is also himself. even his pain and loneliness are feelings that he doesnt regret, as they were the light burning inside him that kept him going. the lyrics describe a light that shines like a jewel, while the video depicts that not as the light of a brighter future, but as the lights of a truck about to run him over. in a way, the one driving the truck is also himself. contradictory as they are, they are all parts of him he can't deny.
ive seen some confusion on what exactly mr. creepypasta's motives are, but i think he's meant to be contradictory on purpose. disregarding all the urban fantasy-esque lore about what zingai are, he's a manifestation of fuchi's psyche, a representation of coping mechanisms that may have protected him in some ways, but now harm him in others. fuchi being hit by a 'driverless' truck parallels his sleepwalking, both being actions he has no voluntary control over, but are caused by manifestations of his subconscious urges.
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and it's only after fuchi embraces his inner child and breaks out from the dream world that he can start to move past his trauma and connect with the world again.
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other less relevant stuff but when i first saw the mv i was a bit shocked they went with a shooting scene of all things, considering gun violence isnt really a thing in japan. (i hadnt paused to read the text yet so i didnt know it was a model gun) but after some consideration i think it makes sense in context. according to the extra tidbit posted today, fuchi sees real people as balloons, but can see people as people in fictional media, which led to him emulating human expression through fiction. he also works at a video rental store and loves movies, so i think the shooting, as well as other elements like his ringtone in the beginning, the american comic book style snippets, the references to the movie it (balloons and yellow raincoat) may be alluding to influence from western media.
anyway those r my thoughts and if anyone read till here. why. thanks tho
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ww2yaoi · 15 days
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i would love to hear something about webgott brainrot :3
this evil beast… my first stab at webgott so I don't know how good it is but it's almost 60k and unfinished and everytime I open the doc it bites me and I go yowch! and I close the tab. it's basically just web and joe's summertime affair in austria and them fucking and swimming and occasionally almost killing each other. hopefully it sees the light of day someday
here's a snippet <3
David shakes his head. He can feel Joe’s gaze on him, but he refuses to return it. He thinks if he glances over and sees the look on Joe’s face, whether it be one of understanding or disgust, he might really break down.
“Why didn’t you become an officer, Web?” Joe asks. “You could’ve.”
“Because someone had to be the soldier on the fucking ground. Someone had to kill these goddamn Germans,” David says, his words slurring from the gin. “My parents resent me for joining up, and yet they wanted the Allies to win the war. Someone has to bleed and fight and die, but no, not their son.”
He swallows hard, rage bubbling up in his throat, forming a peach pit in his esophagus. “Fucking hypocrites. Maybe if I had gotten mowed down by a machine gun in Normandy they would have some fucking perspective.”
“You shouldn’t say that,” Joe says, sounding hurt by the idea. “Don’t be stupid, Web.”
“Yeah, well, I did say it.”
Joe sighs. His shoulder knocks against David’s, and it’s almost comforting. “Y’know, I always assumed you became an enlisted man so you’d have more interesting things to write about.”
David smiles to himself. “Yeah, maybe a bit of that too.”
He raises the bottle to his mouth, tips it back, but finds he’s drained the last of the gin. It triggers his anger again, which rips through him like a jolt of electricity.
“Jesus Christ, what the fuck am I still doing here?” David says, and his voice echoes across the lake.
He throws the empty bottle in the vague direction of the shoreline. It shatters against a rock, breaking into a thousand pieces. Joe flinches beside him at the sound. David hangs his head in his hands, tugs at his hair.
“If they’re going to send us to the Pacific, they might as well do it now. If I’m going to get blown to bits over Tokyo, I’d like to get it over with.”
“I don’t think that’s going to happen,” Joe says. “I think we’re here for the long haul.”
“Yeah, left to fucking rot.”
Joe makes an unimpressed sound at the back of his throat. “Come on, it’s not so bad. We’ve got hot showers, warm beds, decent food. It sure beats combat.”
“Well, it’s a gilded cage, Joe,” David says. “I want out.”
“I know, Web, I know.”
They fall into silence for several minutes. Eventually, Joe reaches over and rubs David’s back, working his hand over his hunched shoulder blades, over the tired notches in his spine. It tempers some of David’s outrage, settles his muscles that have been tensed since this morning.
“Do you have a cigarette?” David asks after a moment.
“Yeah.”
Joe reaches into his breast pocket and removes a pack of Lucky Strikes. He shakes out two cigarettes, puts them both in his mouth, lights them, then hands one to David.
“Thanks.”
David raises it to his lips but finds that his fingers are trembling.
Joe notices. “Your hands are shaking, Web.”
David puffs on his cigarette and smoke pools in his lungs. The hit of nicotine only serves to make him feel nauseous.
“I’m angry,” he says, cigarette hanging limply in his mouth.
Joe reaches over and takes David’s clammy hands in his. Joe’s are dry and cool in comparison, hard calluses built into his fingertips from wielding a rifle for so many years. Joe holds onto David’s fingers as they quiver in his palms, then runs his knobby thumbs gently over David’s knuckles.
Steady hands, David thinks. He loves Joe’s steady hands, even if they’re hands that have maimed and killed, heart lines baptized with blood that can never be washed away. Not completely. David has fallen apart so willingly beneath these same hands, let them soothe him and embrace him and pull him asunder. He would take them inside of himself if he could, let Joe pick through his body as if he were one big open wound. David wishes he were brave enough to ask him to do it, but he’s so often afraid, so he closes his chest and padlocks his rib cage and waits for Joe to find the keys to come in.
“Come on, let’s go back up,” Joe says after a while, letting go of David’s hands. He stubs out his cigarette and reaches for the flashlight, clicking it on. “I don’t know how you made it down here in the dark without breaking an ankle.”
“I know the path,” David insists, throwing his cigarette into the lake as Joe helps him to his feet.
thanks for the ask!
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moseslikellamas · 3 months
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♱𖣂 Redfork Menace ♱𖣂 pt.5
Benjicot Blackwood x Bracken!OC
Summary - Shanda makes it home from her nightly mission easily and walks into a tense family meeting. Benjicot Blackwood starts making plans of his own.
Warnings - fem!reader, suspense, mentions of injuries, adult language, period typical misogyny, condescension, benjicot brainrot, Kieran Burton fancast.
Word count - 2.4k
Things are starting to shape up!
When Shanda appeared back at Stone Hedge she had developed a slight limp. Sneaking inside had been easy enough, Martyn had still been on guard. And she had made her way inside moving silent and unseen all the way to her own chambers. There she collapsed exhausted, but there would be no rest for her now. She lay there for a moment trying to convince herself this was truly reality. First, she was an idiot. She had severely underestimated her opponent and it had almost cost her everything. If he had managed to drag her back to Raventree… She shuddered at the thought.
She pulled herself out of bed by sheer force of will and began readying a bath. Since starting her escapades in the borderlands she had refused all servant assistance in her room. She did her own linens, warmed her own water and got herself ready. It was easier that way, less questions. It gave her a sense of autonomy she had been lacking before. Despite how dangerous the situation truly was, she couldn’t find it in her to stay away. The information would be useful and she couldn’t bear to go back to her boring life before the nightly adventures.
Her father trusted her more than most, putting her in charge of the record keeping and allowing her a say on any matter pertaining to the honor of their house. But it didn’t mean he ever listened to what she said. Shanda had too many brothers to count and inevitably her opinion was pushed down in favor of others. It was hard not to take it personally. How would she ever gain the experience to offer useful advice if she were stuck in these walls all day? Whenever she voiced these frustrations her father would simply urge her to look into taking a suitor up. She always scoffed at the notion that would take her away. And it didn’t guarantee any more freedom than she had now, less factoring in children on any account.
She looked upon her face in a dingy mirror while she braided her hair back. The shadows under her eyes were a tad darker than usual but that could be explained away by working late. Fall approached and soon most of her time would be spent managing shipments for winter. Besides the dark shadows she looked the same as ever. Her shoulders throbbed with every heartbeat and she was sure a couple of ribs were bruised. Today was going to be hell. Taking one last look in the mirror she headed downstairs.
The sky was still gray, though lighter than it had been over the past two days. She knew something was wrong when Martyn was in the main hall waiting for her along with her father.
“Good morning Father, Martyn. What news brings us together on this day?”
The only family meetings they had usually preceded disaster.
“Martyn, tell your sister about the Raven you received.”
Face unreadable Martyn pulled a slip of paper open before reading.
“To the many houses of the River lands. This is a formal warrant issued for the individual terrorizing Blackwoods lands, dubbed the “Redfork Menace”. Countenance is small in stature, remarkably fast and responsible for multiple crimes in Blackwood lands. The charges include: Attempted assault, trespassing, illegal snare traps, and most grievously an attempt to harm the heir of Raventree. Further attempts by anyone to penetrate the land beyond the river will be met with immediate hostility.
Signed, the heir of Raventree Hall”
Shanda stood there momentarily speechless.
***
Benjicot Blackwood approached Raventree Hall feeling giddy. He’d nearly had her this time, the sly little Bracken who kept sneaking into their side of the borderlands. She was so fierce and fought valiantly. It was adorable. It was also incredibly irresponsible. The Brackens were all craven simpering cunts. They were unfit to sit on the land they owned and contaminated the air for the rest of the riverlands. But she was a pretty foul mouthed creature that considered herself so clever. He knew about her presence almost immediately. The guards might not have been sure about her existence but he had been.
As heir he knew all of his lands like the back of his hand, the borderlands no exception. With the increased tension and altercations surrounding the area he had volunteered to join the guard rotation. It would break up the monotony of his normal routine and show he wasn’t too good to work just like the rest of them. After the first time she had appeared he’d sat back and waited, watching her movements and familiarizing himself with her mannerisms. He had studied her so intently that he had cracked her identity on the third occasion he saw her. Her bronze hair had caught in the moonlight where she lay crouched and he pretended not to see her. The answer to why she might be spying on them dawned on him with the flash of her hair. Amos Bracken was a blonde but his wife had auburn hair. Martyn Bracken had the same auburn hair and his twin was of an almost identical shade.
He could have died of laughter at the realization. They were sending her as a scout and spy? Whatever sneaking she did might pass the bar in Stone Hedge but to him she was loud, visible. She never stayed crouched low enough and ventured much too close. Sometimes she would lose track of time, focusing too intently. He hadn’t lied about her skill in covering her tracks though, that was true. She had done well to step lightly and the snares had been a nice touch. But she’d used the wrong kind of rope, he was much heavier than the rabbit string she had brought. But he had played along because it was entertaining and she was trying so hard. It must be difficult to be surrounded by Brackens all the time, no wonder she was so keen to cross over into his land.
Ben’s father trusted him to resolve the borderland conflict on his own. He could do it quickly and quietly but where was the fun in that? If it had been the normal scum, he wouldn’t have hesitated to bring them to justice. But the nosy woman interested him and he wanted to escalate the issue. It was no sweat off his brow, he was dealing with a known threat with his Lord fathers permission. And he would bet all of the money in King’s Landing that her father had no idea she was sneaking out at night into Blackwood land. He doubted she was planning to return anytime soon given he’d knocked her off her feet easily and given her a small taste of why it was so stupid for her to be there. All the same he wanted to make her nervous.
Inside the halls of his house he quickly made his way to the maester to put his budding plan into action. He wanted to announce a warrant for her arrest. He couldn’t outright name her, not yet. But he could make it clear to her that he was threatening her, what had she called herself? “Bane of the Blackwoods and the Menace of the Redfork.” He smiled thinking about it. It had taken all of his willpower to stay on his knees pretending to be restrained while she raged at him. It was so hard not to wrap her up in his arms and cart her off home. It would be too easy. No, it was better to do it this way. If he was lucky he might get a bride out of the situation.
Over the past moon the feud had been going nonstop. The late summer air did something that spurred them on, young men in a frenzy constantly causing rifts. Since Lord Grover Tully was older than dirt and not half as useful, it fell to his heir Elmo to dispense justice. Elmo had made it clear on their last summoned meeting that he was over it and rivalry be damned they better hold it together for a while. If Ben started a petty unnecessary fight over a Bracken spy terrorizing them and it was revealed the spy was the only daughter of Amos. Well, a marriage might be a fine way to try and mend the years long rift between the houses. He was frankly unconcerned with her house affiliation and would be honored to free her of it.
“Maester Haine, I have solved the crisis in the borderlands and perhaps in the process solved another of our problems. Come, let us write an announcement. Send a copy to every house in the river lands, big or small.”
***
Shanda has swallowed harshly before straightening her shoulders and looking appropriately concerned. She shoved all of her terror down as far as she could. He’d used her words. Named her, the Redfork Menace. This was a terrible turn of events and the look her father was shooting her did not bode well.
“You look tired. Have you been sleeping well?” Her father placed a hand on her shoulder, feigning concern while he probed her.
“Fall approaches, my duties increase. Worry not father, I will rest in time.”
He narrowed his eyes at her, his eyes flicking up and down examining her closely. “See that you do that. Oh and I suppose since you mentioned the coming fall, I don't need to remind you wolves will be roaming in larger numbers now. Everyone is required to have an escort outside of the keep walls.” He smiled cheerfully at her, squeezing her shoulder before leaving. Once he was gone Martyn quickly dragged her into a room off the main keep. It was dim and appeared to be some storage room with shelves full of bottles and jars.
“You’ve done it now Shan. What happened?”
She grimaced, rubbing the back of her neck. “He’s fast Martyn. Much faster than you would expect. I’m not even sure he’s fully human. I saw him jump from such a high distance and he caught up to me without even trying. Whatever rumors are spreading about him, they’ve failed to mention that.”
She had no intention of going back out maybe ever again. Twice was enough to teach her a lesson especially with her father breathing down her neck. He wouldn’t accuse her outright unless presented with irrefutable evidence. She wasn’t going to slip up and give it to him.
“What about the dagger?”
Shanda pulled it out of the pocket hidden in the folds of her gown and handed it off to him. She was relieved that she had done that right. At least one thing had gone as planned.
“Listen I know I screwed up Martyn.”
She held up her hands in surrender at his angry expression.
“Yes, that's putting it lightly. But it's fine. I’ll just lay low, let this blow over. I can pick back up after the mourning ceremony if the heat has died down. If not, well, maybe we move on to something else for a while.”
His face softened as she spoke. And she confided further in him.
“I believe I may have kicked the hornet's nest here. There’s something wrong with that man.”
She didn’t mention the way he’d made her head spin or how softly he’d spoken to her. Blood rose to her cheeks at the thought and she pushed it away sharply. He’d just threatened to arrest her! He wanted to put her on trial for delusional charges. And most importantly he was a Blackwood lout.
“Don’t worry sister, it's likely I’ll be on guard duty for life. And I wouldn’t miss a shot against Bloody Ben given he comes looking for you.”
Shanda rolled her eyes at her grinning brother.
“This is serious, you know.”
“Oh I know. But I did warn you from the beginning all of this was egregiously stupid. So, I told you so.”
“Whatever Martyn. You wanted something to spice up endless guard duty as well. Fall is nigh upon us though, maybe next time you can accompany me. I bet we could sneak past Pepperwood, he’s always sleeping on the job. Should fire him really but in the meantime we use it to our advantage.”
“Slow down there. Let’s make it through this crisis and the mourning ceremony then worry about it. Have you figured out a way to get Royce out of going?”
Shanda frowned. “I have but you’re not going to like it.”
“Tell me later then. I’m going to bed and I already have enough nightmare fuel for the moment. You should get some sleep as well. You look like shit.” He gave her a soft hug before departing.
Alone again she took a deep breath. Her mind swirling with the words from the heir of Raventree. It was obvious he thought this was entertainment. If Benjicot was as fearsome as they said, she should’ve never had a chance to trap him. The sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach grew as she considered maybe he’d let her snare him. The thought was too much to consider. It opened too many cans of worms and unanswerable questions. Better to put it out of her mind and move on with her life. There would be other opportunities to remind the Blackwoods of honor.
Shanda left the storage room and wandered up to the library tower to start her actual work. The shipments and bills that were always waiting for her. Her desk was full of little scrolls, much more than should’ve been there for the early afternoon. Sorting through them, a spike of ice shot through her chest. They were all from the river folk. Derry, Frey, Lothston, Mallister, Mooton, Mudd, Piper, Ryger…. The list went on as she identified the seals. Damn near every lord in the land had sent a letter.
Shoulders slumped, hands trembling, she broke the first seal. “The most noble and honorable house Derry will not tolerate the recent slander noted to us just after dawn this morning by House Blackwood. Derry and Bracken share a rich history and a trusted friendship. Should the situation call for an escalation, House Derry will not answer. A fourth altercation in the worst storm season in a decade would not do us well.
Warmly, House Derry, Lord Willard Derry.”
She sat very still trying not to rage at the idiot Blackwood who was going to draw the Tully eyes straight to Stone Hedge. Slamming her hands on the desk she knocked all of the remaining scrolls on the floor and began to pace furiously.
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bokettochild · 6 months
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Febuwhump Day 25: (alt) "I Love You"
What's this? Day 25 when I haven't even posted previous days? Yes. Warriors was giving me brainrot and this thing sort of just spit itself out last night after a pot of coffee and rotting on my couch for hours.
Heads up, this story is set in the TBBU universe, so yes, we have an original character here: Sablya. My apologies if you hate OCs, she's actually pretty prominent in this story and yes, in a relationship with a Link, so DLDR if that bothers you at all <3
Rating: Teen
Wordcount: 4,626
Summary: Hit with a dark curse, the boys must seek out a user of shadow magic in order to help them. Luckily for them, Warriors knows someone. Unluckily for him, it's his ex-wife.
-
There's a particular brand of hurt that comes from words. 
Simple words, words that once meant something precious, can turn into a knife that wrenches at the heart, and even when they’re meant with love, with care, with every amount of innocence, they still have the ability to plunge deep and strike a vein, severing sanity in their wake. 
Warriors knows this, has known this. Since his mother’s first “I’m proud of the man you’ve become” had sounded, the very day when he most dreaded speaking to her to admit what he’d done; what he’d done for her and the girls; he’s known that words full of love can cause pain. 
Words spoken in ire, somehow, cause less. 
Given the choice between the two, the captain doesn’t know what he wants to receive when he enters the house. With his brothers behind him, in need, struggling under the burden of a dark curse that’s wound its way, tight, about them, he knows the need to hurry, to not linger. There’s only person in all Hyrule who can assist them at this moment, but that doesn’t make facing her any easier than all the other times he’s dared to try and do so. 
The very concept of courage, when he stands at the doors of his own house, is a dart of pain to his pride, given how he, the hero, lacks it so just to walk through a door. 
Does he want the screams, the pain and tears, the agonized look in warm amber eyes, or does he want something warm that will pierce and burn at a heart still in pieces from when last he faced her? He’s not sure. He’s not sure which would hurt more. He’s not sure which would be easier to survive. 
“Are we almost there?” The desperation that colors words that should be annoyed, should be spoken with that signature put upon tone that’s nearly permanent from their vet, only further drives how his own hesitation is itself causing harm. The boys are all dragging, all pained, but to add the pain of their newly acquired curse to pain that already made function a struggle- he needs to get the help, and soon. 
“Just a bit further, vet, I promise.” He tries to sound confident, assuring, warm, but he falls short.  
Castletown really does bring out the worst in him, doesn’t it? He can’t even manage to be a comfort to the others while they’re here. 
Eyes follow their weary forms curiously, although some skirt away, wary of the eaten down men and boys, armed to the teeth and clearly desperate, although for what, it’s doubtful the townsfolk know. It's a sharp contrast to their usual warmth towards him in the wake of the war, but then again, his scarf is absent. 
 The blue fabric hangs from Twilight’s shoulders, supporting the weight of their smithy who, for reasons none can name, has been affected the most, and thus is worst off of all of them. In the wake of the wizzrobes attack, what must have been a week ago now, the smithy has been listless, fevered, and in enough agony that walking seems entirely outside of his ability for the moment. 
They need only last a bit longer though. They wander the streets at his tail, the boys leaning on each other heavily. Some had taken worse to the dark spell, others are still coping, and some, like the vet, are pushing their every limit to keep going. Goddesses, he can’t afford to hesitate, not with the like this. 
Still, when the door looms ahead of him, his feet stutter and falter all the same, and though likely, he could excuse it as the curse, he knows the reason his mouth goes dry and stomach lurches has nothing to do with magic at all. 
“Cap?” Sky’s looking back at him, past the blonde head resting on his shoulder, the sailor likewise struggling to keep pace having resulted in the skyloftian offering aid. Concern shines in crystal eyes, and it takes more effort than he’s got in him to try to smile back. 
“I’m fine.”  
He doesn’t even care that they all clearly don’t believe him. None of them have it in them to call him out though, and honestly, he’s a little thankful for that as he forces his feet to move again. 
“We’re here.” 
His hand stalls at the door. 
Hyrule knocks, dark eyes dim as they turn up to him, worry the only thing still shining in them. 
Goddesses, he needs to get over himself. These boys need him, need him to pull himself up by his bootstraps and ask his wife for help. For them. For their sakes. 
The door opens with a familiar creaking, and despite his every attempt to steal himself for it, the sight of her still makes his breath catch in his throat. 
Sablya is not so afflicted, and for a terrible moment, he half thinks the door will fly shut in his face, only... 
Only, Hyrule’s hand has caught onto him for support. Only, Four and Wind are hanging from their older brothers’ shoulders. Only, Legend is swaying on his feet, even with the support of a cane to keep him upright. Cold though she’s turned to him, Sablya’s always had a bleeding heart, and whatever hurts he’s caused won’t stop her from seeing kids in need of help. 
“What do you want?” 
“Help. Please.” It’s a struggle to meet her eyes, to hold her gaze knowing full well what he’ll find. For them though, he manages. “They’re cursed, it’s-” 
“Dark magic,” the words roll, accented and thick, like a cold wave over him. The door creaks again, just like it did the last time he made it inside; has she not had it fixed? “Come. Enter.” 
With what strength he can muster, he scoops the traveler up and into the house, passing her by even as she darts towards the rest, offering a weak smile and steady hands to guide the rest inside. He doesn’t watch, even though he wants to, wants to see her warmth, even if it’s not turned on him. He doesn’t though, he pushes down the narrow hall and into the main room, and there he stops. 
It’s almost like he never left. 
There are no toys scattered on the floor, but the box still remains, tucked in one corner. Pictures, books, all the same, have only moved as much as needed for cleaning. The furniture is still in its place and muscle memory urges him to wind around it to his own chair before the fire. 
He doesn’t. He settles Hyrule down on the couch, soothing curly hair absently, thoughtlessly, before dragging his aching body back towards the door. He passes her on the way, Wild curled in her arms. They don’t exchange even a look, but his heart still stutters at the ease she carries the younger hero, the familiar worried crease between her brows. 
Twilight and Sky are the least effected so far, and they follow behind his wife, bringing the smallest two after. Time though is struggling, and while the weight of him is different from only a year ago, it still feels natural somehow to loop an arm over his shoulders and whisper encouragement to the man as they follow Legend’s limping figure into the house. 
“Armor off,” is the order once they’ve made it in, door shut and the group of them gathered in the family room. It’s cramped, for ten people, but at least with the furniture as it is, but it doesn’t matter. “Tell me what happened.” 
She’s already looking over Wind, dark hands cradling his ashen face like she used to with their son when he’d fallen and give himself a bloody nose or some other such injury. 
“A curse,” Legend explains. “It was a wizzrobe. Don’t know what kind.” His breath is short, even as he’s crumpled down to sit at Hyrule’s feet, head leant against the couch arm. “None of our magic is any good and it’s- it’s affecting us physically as well.” 
Amber eyes fall to stare at the lad, brows kitting together again. “How so?” 
“Shortness of breath-” as though it wasn’t apparent “-pain-” 
“Where?” 
A shudder. “Everywhere.” 
Her skirts rustle as she sinks down to be level with the scholar, hand lifted. “Where is it worst?” 
Pink hair flies. “It’s not like that.” 
“Explain then.” Her tone is soft, but firm. 
Legend explains. He explains with words Warriors has seen in books on magic, but which he doesn’t know for himself. Sablya understands though, despite her hylian apparently still not being strong, and with prompting and feedback from the vet, she seems to get an idea of what it is that’s plaguing them. In the meantime, he leans at the couch’s back, hands mindlessly sinking to stroke curly heads and assure, as best he can, his little brothers. 
“I think I understand,” the words have relief flooding over them, some of the boys even shedding a tear or two at the sound, “may I try something?” 
“Go nuts.” Legend answers through a weary, pained smile. 
It startles them, he supposes, to see the way darkness coalesces at her command, but when her hand rests against the vet’s chest, her voice low with the command to match his breath to her own, he sees tension bleed from the lad’s shoulders, resulting in something like a soft sob. 
“Got it.” She moves to Wind next, although she orders, again, for the rest to remove their armor. “I cannot help you if there is a barrier. Take off the armor, I will help the children.” 
It’s a struggle, in their weakened state, to get it off. Getting it on had been the same, but the risk of going without was too high considering the condition they’ve been in. It takes them all helping, or at least, those who wear it help each other, the vet’s hands joining after he sees to catch a breath. 
Wind sags in relief when dark hands lift from him, and the vet moves to his side, gathering the younger up and waiting until Sablya has finished with Hyrule as well before pullng the traveler close as well. Both lads sink into him, nestling together, no longer in pain but fully drained from it’s effects. 
Four is next, and then, because it is Twilight beside him, she quickly attends the rancher, although it’s only a second before she’s done. For reasons they can’t be certain of, but which the scholar had speculated might be in relation to magic exposure, the ranch hand had been least affected. While there’s still a sag to his shoulders as the hands of the captain’s wife lift from him, it’s not so much as to stop him pulling Four close with a soft hum, supporting the weight of the slumbering hero while their savior moves on to Wild next. 
He tries not to watch, he does. He can’t help it though. He's missed her, even if thoughts of returning here have left him ill at ease and fumbling for ages. He can almost pretend, as he watches her drift between his brothers, that nothing happened. He’s home, she’s there, and save the lacking presence of a small child running about at their feet or tucked onto a hip or against a chest, it’s almost like nothing ever happened. 
When all eight of the other heroes have been tended, she pauses. He sees her eyes drift to him, has to drop his gaze when it does, but she doesn’t step his way with that brisk step, with the determination that was turned on the rest. No, she lingers a moment. 
“There are rooms upstairs. You are welcome to rest there.” 
“Are you sure?” Twilight’s the only one with it left in him to speak, but the wide eyed stares of the rest convey their doubt and wariness. 
Red hair swings free with her nod, drifting from where she’d hurriedly tucked it back while tending them. “You are guests, and you need rest. The children need to sleep, you all do, if you want to recover.” 
“Thank you.” 
“It is nothing.” Her smile is tight. “Please, make yourselves at home.” 
Eyes turn to him, but he nods. He motions them along and, while the weight of magic still hangs from his shoulders, wrapping tight and making everything a pain, he just motions towards the doorway. “Stairs are at the end of the hall. Take any room that isn’t the first one on the right.” 
The rancher’s brows raise, and the stares of the rest turn confused, but neither he nor his wife give answer. No, instead, she scoops Wind into her arms and, with a warning look nobody would dare disobey, not even Mask, she orders the rest of the younger boys to stay put. 
“No straining yourself. I will get you.” 
Such orders are not turned to Twilight and Sky, and the two men follow her out of the room, Four and Hyrule in their arms to be settled down. Usually, he’d demand they eat something before turning in for the night, but between the nausea and the exhaustion, he sees no reason to even try and suggest it. They need their sleep. They can eat when they don’t feel near ready to drop. 
 His wife is back a minute or so later, sweeping past him to gather Legend, only to be redirected to their champion. “I can last,” the teen vet assures, “get him first.” 
She tuts at that, but listens. She doesn’t fight it, likely because she’s learned through experience with him that it’s pointless. It's only a short while later though that she’s back for the vet, and by then Time has mustered the strength to stand and follow. 
 Briefly, on his way out, their leader’s good eye falls on him, silent question hanging heavy, but he just grips the shoulder of the other in assurance. “I’ll be fine, just go rest.” 
“Who is-” 
“Someone we can trust,” and they are words that, from him at least, the others have all learned are never spoken lightly, can themselves be trusted. “Just go, sap. She and I need to talk anyway.” 
There’s lingering curiosity there, but Time obeys. The man is too worn down, too tired from the last week, to likely even last through the long mess that would be answering all his questions. Time heads from the room, and while the house is a sturdy one, steps are heard overhead soon enough, signifying the motions of the boys to the rooms kept ready, at least while this house was still his home, for the presence of sisters, friends, and visiting family. 
It leaves him alone. 
Alone in a familiar room that’s his, but which feels wrong to linger in. The urge to wander, to stare, to take in the husk of the past, battles with the intense guilt of intrusion that he feels, even in his own home. Does he stay, waiting about for her to return? Does he wander freely, go where he will? He’s not been back since his first day returned from the war, and even then, he never made it past the hall. Is he okay to go to the kitchen and brew some tea for what will, no doubt, end up being a very tense night? Is he even allowed upstairs into their bedroom? Is he sleeping down here? With one of the boys? 
He drags a hand through his hair and, for lack of anything better to do with himself, sits on the couch. Here, he’s least likely to cross the boundaries he can’t see, and here is where she’s most likely to look for him once she’s satisfied that young heroes are safely abed and no longer suffering. 
Briefly, he hears steps pass. Briefly, he hears the familiar clatter in the kitchen. For a moment, the steps creak, skirts swishing up them with the brisque pace she always sets when worried or tense.  It’s a moment later when the same sounds return again, getting louder as she returns to the main floor. She’s stalling, he thinks. Tending her guests by providing medicine for pain, blankets for warmth, and no doubt water for drinking and washing both. He’s glad the boys will have it, but every time her feet pass by the door, he finds himself tensing, panicking for a moment that now is the time he has to face her, and now he won’t have them here to act as a distraction for either of them. She just heads back up though, and he’s breathing in relief only to sigh it all out again in frustration with himself. 
He needs to man up. She’s his wife for the love of Hylia! Yet even so, facing her is as daunting as walking up to face Cia, although his reasons are different. Against Cia, he was afraid for himself, afraid of her. Against Sablya, he’s afraid to shatter further what’s already so broken, afraid that somehow, he will cross the line of no return. It's not about failing with her, it’s the fact that he already has, and the question of how much worse he’ll make it. 
“Your breath is bad enough, do not make it worse with a panic.” 
Despite her words, his breath catches in his throat at the sound of her voice.  
Her feet tap on the floor as she walks, but there’s a certain hesitance to each step. There's not the usual confidence in her pace, even if she crosses the room at the same speed as she would any other time, as she did just moments before when tending their guests. He risks a glance when the steps stop, and she’s standing in the middle of the room, facing him. He can’t manage to meet her eyes though. 
“Armor off, I said. How do I fix the curse if you have it on?” She clucks her tongue, hands settling on her hips and, no doubt, golden eyes are staring down at him. He can feel their weight, but he can’t meet them. “Tch, come now, will you make this hard?” 
The urge to remind her that the phrase in Hylian is “being difficult” rises in his mind, but he doesn’t say it. If anything, her attempts at the language are still endearing, even if her tongue is sharp as she says them. 
He shifts, moving to shed the offensive attire. He’d forgotten, in the midst of aiding Time with removing his plate, that the mail he wears like a second skin these days was still on him. It’s heavy, yes, but it’s also familiar and grounding after so long wearing it for every waking moment. It’s almost a part of him these days, and shedding it is strange. 
It’s strange to be without. 
It’s strange having her eyes on him while he does so, even despite the fact that they’re married, that she’s seen him with much, much less. It’s different now though. They’re different. They haven’t been the young, happy couple- the one that stares back from pictures around the room; that smiles, arms around each other- in a very long time. Not since the war started. 
He fumbles. Between the uncertainty and the curse that still lingers over him, his hands struggle with the buckles, the straps, never mind getting at the chain mail beneath it all. His hands tremble worse than normal, and even when he stops to master his breath, to try and calm himself, it only makes it worse. 
Sablya clucks her tongue at him, and he can hear her hair swish over her shoulders with the shaking of her head, even as her feet tap across the distance between them. She’s moving closer, but that doesn’t change the fact that when she reaches out, hands brushing his arm, he still surges back. 
She’s not Cia, she’s not, she’s nothing like. Still, he didn’t expect the contact, the hands, and all over again he must fight to re-steady his breath. 
“You will not do this. You are weak; struggling.” He needs help, he hears, and his heart bleeds for it. Despite all, this woman will still stand there and offer aid, after everything he’s put her through, made her lose, all the hurt he’s brought to her life. “Let me.” She sighs. 
So, he does. He drops his hands and only moves as she tells him, lifting his arm to let her get at the buckles beneath. In the back of his mind, a memory of her strapping those buckles herself, helping him gird himself for departure, for the war, plays in his head. Then, as now, her eyes had held a certain determination, one mixing with a sadness she refused to speak aloud.  
“How you do these things to yourself, I do not know.” She murmurs. It’s not addressed to him specifically as far as he can tell, but he can’t help wincing at it anyway. 
Does he answer? Apologize? Does he laugh it off as he might once have done to try and earn one of those wry smiles she would turn on him when they were young? Gods, he speaks like a man long aged, but the years spent courting, teasing, laughing and cheerful, they seem a lifetime ago. 
Her hands are steady as they work the buckles, pulling belts free and finally lifting his pauldron away. He doesn’t need the help with his vambraces as badly, but she still moves on to them; his arm rested on her knees as she settles beside him, knee brushing his own and skirts folding over to drape over his legs as well as her own. She doesn’t move, he’s not sure if she notices, but he does. He can’t help but notice. 
“Thank you.” He still can’t meet her eyes, and he doubts they will lift from where they work at leather straps. His own linger on her hands, moving deftly through their work. “For helping them.” 
“It is the right thing.” She states simply, pulling free the vambrace and reaching for his other hand. She catches him by the wrist, grip fleeting, gone the moment he is where she wants him. “They do not deserve to suffer.” 
He, who still sits with the curse heavy on him, perhaps does. 
“They are heroes?” 
He nods. She would know. He’s not sure how, but this woman isn’t the sort he could hide anything from, not ever. “Across time, yes.” 
A nod, sharp. Her eyes remain lowered, but long hair falls over them. The urge to push it back, tuck it behind her ear, wells up within, but he stomps it down again. Chances are, she would welcome his touch as freely as he had hers just moments before, and the risk of it, of her potential rejection... he’s too much a coward to face it. 
Silence hangs heavy between them as she removes the vambrace, setting it aside before moving, without stuttering, for his belt. It makes him pause, but he allows it. Lets her work the buckle of the baldric, his great belt, pulling them free and lying them aside. She’s methodic as she moves to aid him with his over tunic, and he lets her pull it free, shifting as he must to accommodate. 
The mail is so much harder. He has to stand for that, and she follows after, both working to lift it free in an awkward tangle that would, at one time, have made them laugh together, at each other, at themselves. He would, maybe, have joked something, he can’t remember what, but he can’t. Words catch in his throat with her standing oh so close, determined stare fixed on him, on getting him free from the heavy shirt, and despite all else changing, the way she makes him breathless has not. At last though, it is free, and he’s standing there, defenseless, unarmed, unguarded, before piercing eyes that linger for a moment, hands that, by habit, smooth the shoulders of his shirt before starting away. 
He wants to say something. Wants a word to come to him, to pierce the silence that hangs heavy between them. Nothing comes to mind though, only the urge to apologize, again, and again after, for everything. For himself, for his failures, for...until she tells him to stop. 
“Sit.” She huffs, pushing back against him with the hand not holding his shed armor. “I will put it away.” 
He obeys, sinking back onto the couch, now without the weight the mail brings to weigh him down. Somehow, he feels heavier without it. 
She doesn’t take long with the armor. Really, it’s a matter of moving across the room to set it down beside everyone else’s; a mess for the morning once they’ve got the energy and strength to tackle it, or, more likely, do it again to depart and return to their work. He can’t imagine them being welcome past what’s necessary for them to recover, and his house or no, it’s hers as well. He doesn’t want her stuck with them just because they need somewhere to rest, not when the castle isn’t far at all, and he has rooms there already. 
Her steps are slow this time as she returns, motions more hesitant as she reclaims the seat at his side. She’s more conscious, he thinks, of how she settles herself, and there is no brushing against each other save as is necessary; only her hand settling over his chest. Her breath is slow, controlled, but it trembles slightly. “Match me.” 
It’s hard. It’s so hard. She’s leaning so close, all dark eyes and long lashes and fine features he could look at for an eternity. The slope of her nose, her cheeks, the way red hair curls so softly at the ends to caress dappled skin, the spots of pale flesh interspersed over the dark, it’s got his full focus, and his breath catches repeatedly for it. 
“Focus.” She hisses, wincing the words, hand lifting for a moment from where it presses, warm, against his chest. 
He tries. 
Her chest swells, shoulders tensing, and he draws breath in. Her hair flutters, drawn lines loosening, and he exhales. In and out, matching to her and feeling the familiar weight of her magic ease around him, slipping beneath the curse’s bonds and lifting free, like a small blade cutting away awry stitching, working slowly, pulling, lifting and prying until the weight of it is gone and he’s left sagging back into the cushions, breath heavy despite no effort being required on his part. 
Her hands slips away, dragging slightly over fabric. 
He should say something. 
“You are fixed. Rest now.” She doesn’t say his name. She won’t, he thinks, and golden eyes dart away as she stands, brushing hands down her skirt and moving for the stairs. 
He should say something. 
“Goodnight.” She says to the darkness in the hall, tone clipped, yet hesitant before she slips away. 
His gaze is trapped on the walls, unable to turn to follow her. He needs to answer. 
Her feet tap away. 
 “I love you.”  
A stumble, a hitching of breath and then- the creak of the steps, the swish of a skirt, hands that fall heavy on the banister and then a shutting door.  
Blonde hair hits the old couch, worn hands dragging through. The weight of the curse was almost better than that of the silence that answers his treacherous words. Words hurt, those that love, but silence pierces ever sharper in answer to them, and devested of his armor, he is but a man before it’s blow. 
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phoebesspikytitties · 6 months
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Masterlist!!!!!!
here is our masterlist, separated into our separate writings!
🌸
Baby, kiss it better P1 - This fic is about 2.8k words of Julien and Lucy taking care of Phoebe on a bad day where she really, really needs it. dom phoebe and lucy, sub julien, smut
Hold me like you're the tie that binds... Phoebe and Julien turn the tables on Lucy after she acts like a brat all day, and she loves every second of it. impact play, Smut
🦷
Black Hearts - You and Lucy see each other at a party for the first time in years, and surprisingly remembers you. Fluff, flirting, buildup.
Yes ma'am (p2 to black hearts) Going on a date with lucy ends up with going home together. Smut
Greenroom games, You're on tour with the boys, immediately there is a spark between you and phoebe, and now everyone knows it. Softish dom phoebe, Smut.
Encore (p2 to Greenroom games) After the greenroom shenanigans, and Phoebe going topless on stage, the two of you go out on a late night date. Bondage, Smut.
Breakfast Club, After the last show of tour, Julien and you end up in a hotel room together. The tension between you breaks. Smut
Didn't know what i was in for, Lucy "accidentally" teases Julien on stage, and Phoebe tries to hide her jealousy. Bondage, some pain play, Smut.
Owner intros below the cut!!
Owner Intros !!
We will be using the emojis 🌸 and 🦷 to determine who's posting what
Hi, I'm 🌸!
I've been lurking in several different fandoms and letting drafts brew in my Google docs for years now, but this is my first time actually putting anything out that I've written for fandom.
I love so many bands and so many silly little niche TV shows, but boygenius and MUNA have been taking up most of my brain space for the last year, so this is going to be my outlet for the brainrot :)) I'm willing to write anything throuple-centric for boygenius, and I'm open to dipping my toe in some x-readers as well if that's something people are interested in. As for MUNA, I'll probably write some threesome fic as well as x-readers. I will be writing fluff, smut, and perhaps some hurt/comfort type angst if the spirit moves me. With that being said, PLEASE SUBMIT YOUR SUGGESTIONS!!! Feel free to put anything you want to see written in the ask box and if it resonates for one of us we'll write it :))
Please know that despite the fact that I am writing rpf, I know that this is entirely fantasy and it is not meant to be realistic or harmful by any means. If you don't like it, don't read it, and if you do like it, welcome!!!
Hi!!!! I'm 🦷:)
🌸 got me into this, and honestly I love it! Same as them my brain has been taken over by boygenius, Billie, and MUNA. My top song this month was letter to an old poet, if that tells you anything about me. Honestly there is not many boygenius fics out there and I figured it'd be fun to write my own, and after one I'm already loving it!
I'm looking to write some x readers, jucy, pb & j, lucy x phoebe, but also want to try some munagenius if anything pops into the brain. As for billie, I'm wanting to write more fluff than smut, because soooo much smut of her exists i feel like I'd be re-writing someone else's story, but again if something pops into my brain, I'll probably post to see if anyone would be interested!
Like 🌸 said, I mean no harm at all by anything that I write about the boys or otherwise. This is purely for fun and entertainment and is not reflective of how I view them as people, or how they are as people. Like they said, don't like, don't read !!
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“The Wretched Dock”
Pairing - Pirate!Eclipse X SeaMonster!Reader
Due to the fact I’m suffering from extreme brainrot thanks to @bones-of-a-rabbit’s AUs, I’m writing another oneshot around them.
Just like the last, this oneshot is based off their Pirate Eclipse AU. May I also add this was entirely made because I came up with a super fluffy scenario and I couldn’t resist writing it down.
Includes :
• Attempted kidnapping
• Mentions of firearms
• Someone got shot
• Curse words
Art below is made by @bones-of-a-rabbit, who made the AU! Check them out, I have severe brainrot thanks to them :P
As always, enjoy and please leave requests for me!
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Art from this post : https://www.tumblr.com/bones-of-a-rabbit/725569544989622272/pirate-husband-eclipse-for-ur-soul-aka-a-couple
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“Clipse! Look! Barrel seats!”
“Slow down, my treasure! We’ve just entered, don’t make too much noise!”
Today was a special day for Eclipse. As a celebration for their most recent plunder, he decided to bring his crew to the local pub near one of the docks.
It wasn’t frequented by sailors, so he was safe to do as he pleased there without worrying about getting arrested. More importantly, it meant he got to go on an outing with his beloved, which more than made up for the risk.
Sure, some might have seen it as unnecessarily dangerous, but seeing them so happy melted his heart. Especially since he was an infamous pirate, he was sure no one would dare try anything.
He sat down on a repurposed barrel, ordering a pint of beer. He wasn’t too sure how beer might affect his beloved, so he ordered them water.
The cozy lamps, rustic furniture, and general warm feeling were bliss. With his darling sitting on his lap drinking from a small wooden mug, it was even better than bliss.
“Clipse, look drunk.”
“I… hic! not a chance my love, hic! not a chance! I’m… hic! perfectly normal! Just going to… hic! take a nice nap.”
“Goodnight Clipse!”
“Goodnight, treasure… hic!”
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Eclipse woke up, his head feeling like hell. God, he should really control his alcohol intake. Peaking out the window, he saw the sun rising. They really spent all night in this pub?
He rubbed his head, getting up from the wooden countertops. He gestured for his darling, only to realize…
Shit.
They weren’t on his lap.
Where were they.
He immediately sobered up, busting out the front door. Where were they?
“Well, would you look at this!”
A voice, from where?
“A sea monster, these don’t come here often. They’ll fetch a pretty price at the market.”
Back of the pub, got it.
Eclipse frantically rushed over before it was too late, finding two disgruntled men looking over his beloved, who was trapped in a net.
Bastards.
“Let’s send them to the market, and see how much gold we can get.”
“Yes sir!”
“I’m sorry, but you’ll only be getting lead for them.”
The two men turned around, to see a very pissed-off Eclipse pointing a flintlock pistol towards them.
“Put them down, and we can forget this whole thing ever happened.”
“And if I don’t?”
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“You fucker! You shot him!”
The man was rolled up like a ball on the ground, writhing in pain. His leg had just been shot by a flintlock pistol.
“I warned him. Now unless you wish to join him, move out of my fucking way.”
The man’s face turned pale, dragging his friend away from the aggravated Eclipse. Shoving the two aside, he rushed over to his darling, slicing open the net keeping them trapped with a single swing of his sword.
“My precious treasure, are you alright?”
“Yes…”
“Good, good. Let’s go back to the ship. I’m sorry about all this, I truly am.”
The two walked off, Eclipse carrying them bridal-style as he made his way off this wretched dock, back to his ship.
——————————————————
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whumpshaped · 1 year
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First of all, I am equal parts amazed and terrified of your severe brainrot rn. Surely you don't sleep at night, eat or drink, just rotate those two like döner kebab and write? I binge-read it all yesterday (some pieces I read twice or thrice 😌) and I am overjoyed that the chapters keep coming but please don't write yourself into exhaustion 🥺
Second of all, Shadows for the vampire bingo! I imagine Helle likes dining out from time to time... Finds some other poor soul and is disappointed when they aren't as entertaining as Beck; or maybe they take beck somewhere, some park full of shadows - as enrichment 😊
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i mean ur not wrong.. i do nothin but write recently.. but dont worry i'll be forced not to write for a good while starting saturday bc im going home :/ but until then its kebab time. heres how helle went about feeding while beck was out w the flu <3 not their best night
masterlist bingo card
tw vampire whumper, mind control, noncon biting of a married couple i feel like thats a special offence, noncon drugging, past trauma, death mention
Helle left the apartment feeling sick to their stomach. It was a dumb thing to still be so hung up about, it was merely the worst and last few days of their mortal life that gave way to a century torment right afterwards. Nothing monumental.
"This is ridiculous," they muttered to themself, quickly pressing the button that opened the front door of the building. The fresh air against their skin was definitely a welcome sensation — it made them temporarily forget about how suffocating their coffin had been.
They immediately spotted a couple on the bench by the playground, being all cute with each other. They thought about ruining yet another date night, but... no, they needed to get away for a bit. Just for half an hour or so. Take a walk, maybe, be around some other people so they could forget about the sight of their human lying on the bed with his face flushed.
'It's just the flu,' he'd said. Right. Because influenza was absolutely incapable of killing anyone, right? Because they weren't supposed to be thinking about the stupid outbreak, because it was three hundred years ago, because medicine had advanced since then, because it was just one human– Fucking hell, they had been that one human before. And if Beck was dying, they wouldn't even have the guts to turn him. Not like this.
They stopped and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. It was fine. Everything was fine. Beck wasn't dying, they weren't dying anymore, and Lady Marie was dead. What they needed to do was find an unfortunate, stupid human, have dinner, and go back to check on their unfortunate, stupid human.
They stuck to the shadows around buildings, places that the streetlights didn't quite illuminate. They looked around the area for any fresh meat, eventually bumping into yet another couple. What was it with them? Well, whatever. They would do.
It took all of two seconds for the women to notice them once they amped up the charm a bit, and suddenly they were walking towards the danger zone, compelled to be around such an alluring stranger. Helle didn't wait for either of them to strike up a conversation.
"Stay right there for me," they said softly, enthralling one of the women while they grabbed her... girlfriend? Wife? They glanced down and caught a glimpse of the matching rings they were wearing. Yes, definitely her wife.
They grabbed the woman and bit down, steadying her with one hand and covering her mouth with the other. She tasted fine, they supposed, but everything felt like a downgrade after Beck. They used enough venom to keep her discomfort to a minimum, but hopefully not enough that she would come knocking on their door a couple days later for round two. It was hard to tell whether the charm was even broken, or she still thought she was getting randomly bitten by someone she'd met five seconds ago and didn't even get to greet.
They pulled away and lifted the enthrallment, just in time for the first woman to see her wife slump against them like a giggly little ragdoll. "You should probably bring her home," they suggested helpfully. "I am no doctor."
~
taglist: @whumpsday @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @florissimps @nicolepascaline @oliversrarebooks @the-cyrulik @pirefyrelight
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i think i found my fav arcana blog, i rlly love ur hcs and writings!!! (and i don't even usually read that much,,)
i wanna know how the m6 would react to mc, who does journaling but never had anyone read their journal, offering the m6 if they want to read their private journal
The Arcana HCs: M6 reading MC's journal
~ I kept a journal for several years until my siblings were old enough to decipher my handwriting and use it as blackmail lol. Thanks for the prompt anon, enjoy! - brainrot ~
Julian
Noticed you writing in it every day and has been dying of curiosity to know what you're writing about but respects your privacy too much to even bring it up
There have been one or two times when you left it on a table (not open) and he spent a good five minutes fixated on it from across the room, mind going crazy
You finally walk in on him one afternoon, draped across one side of the couch and twisting his gloves while staring holes into the notebook on the opposite armrest
So you sit down next to him and let him read it with you
Double checking multiple times that it's okay for him to be reading this - "are you sure that you're sure?"
Reading about himself from your perspective and how he makes your life better makes him so happy
He also notices how you've kept his love notes and flowers pressed between the pages and the sheer romance of it will make his brain melt
Blushing, stuttering mess
Now whenever he writes you something or picks a flower for you he's thinking about the best way to make it relevant years later, since he knows you'll save them
Asra
Journaling started for you as a daily exercise when you were relearning to write
It was Asra's way of giving you a piece of your life that you had total control of, and of encouraging you to chronicle your days to cope with your memory loss
Over time it also became a place to write down all the things you wanted to say to them while they were gone
So late one night, when you're stargazing together and you find you're on the second to last page of the notebook he gave you so long ago, you reread it with him
It's one of the most precious moments you'll ever share with them. No magic or adventure involved, just the sweetness of revisiting your history together
It also gives you the chance to let him read all the things you felt you couldn't tell him, which brings so much resolution
By the time you're finished reading and talking and snuggling the birds are starting to chirp and the sky is getting lighter
For them, reading about all the ways you noticed and thought about and loved them when there was so much distance between you two makes their heart so full it aches
Nadia
At first she assumed it was something like a planner, where you would write down leads and information and connections
But then she saw the different notebooks you kept for studying, and the system you had to keep track of your scheduled events
She was a little embarrassed at how long it took for her to realize that it was a journal
Once she knew, she was intrigued. She wasn't going to pressure you to show her at all, but she's certainly curious
One day you're flipping back through your entries and you begin to giggle. It's the last thing before she caves and asks
"MC, my darling, what's making you laugh?"
You're immediately scooting over to make space for her next to you and pointing to the right spot on the page
It's a small anecdote you had recorded of Natiqa pranking Nahara and Nazali when Nadia wasn't around
Once you two start reading together she doesn't stop. With your permission, you spend the next two hours reminiscing
You write about her like she's the most important, wise, and confident person in the world, and it fills her with humble gratitude
Muriel
Noticed on the trip south. Wasn't curious. Didn't ask.
Now its been months, you two live like an old married couple in the woods, and he has no idea how to bring it up this late in the getting-to-know-you game
Practices the possible words to ask you in the early mornings while he's feeding the chickens and you're still asleep
The chickens don't have much feedback
You, on the other hand, have mistaken his stoicism for disinterest, so you haven't taken any initiative to let him know that you're open to talking about it
Inanna gets fed up one day and grabs your journal in her mouth, leading you on a chase through the woods, right to where Muriel is fishing
Casually drops it as soon as he tells her to, right into his lap, and heads away for a nap
You sit down next to him and check for torn pages. As soon as you feel his interested gaze, you're offering to read it to him while he waits for the fish to bite
He's not ready for how often he features in your stories, but hearing the way you describe him as safe and gentle and precious makes him feel so fuzzy inside
Portia
The first time she sees you writing she's already asking what it's for
As soon as you tell her it's a journal, she's asking you to let her read it. If it's written by someone as mysterious and exciting as you, it has to be good!
At this point you've known her for all of two days, so you say no
Disappointed but understanding. She doesn't pester you about it, but she makes sure to let you know that she's very interested if you ever feel like sharing
You take your time, but one evening after dinner while you're snuggled up by the fire you'll pull it out and start reading to her
The best audience you've ever had. She is honed in, hanging onto every word while she covers a very happy Pepi in scritches
As someone who fell in love with novels because they whisked her away into adventures she didn't feel important enough for otherwise, hearing you recount your shared story like this tugs on all of her heartstrings
She'll laugh and cry and gasp at all the right moments. From now on, she treats your journal like a sacred thing. After all, it's the most important story in the world
Lucio
He was already sneaking peeks over your shoulder when he was stuck to you as a not-ghost. Man has 0 concept of privacy
You knew he was looking because he was commenting on your handwriting and gossiping about any tidbits he thought were juicy
Considering how you barely knew him at that point, you didn't write in front of him again for a very, very long time
It actually created a lovely habit - at some point during the day, you'll take half an hour to yourself and journal
It's been months now and you've forgotten why you had the habit in the first place, so when it's raining one evening you just stay in the inn and write next to the fire
The difference in Lucio's approach speaks volumes. He asks what you're doing, and when you tell him, he asks if he can hear some of it
He makes no move to get up from where he's polishing his sword (it got wet)
He listens while you read, interjecting with a comment or two, perfectly content
He's a bit sheepish about what you had to write about him in the beginning, but hearing how much he's changed fills him with healthy pride. Oh, he adores you
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hideousvoid · 2 years
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Hiii, I'm in a severe octavinelle brainrot, and I wanted to request hcs for Azul with a fem!reader that falls at first sight for him in the third book (when he scams all the students and give his speech) and from then on is very vocal about it, I'm picturing this dialogue:
Reader: I still don't get what he did wrong, he's great, I like him
Ace: Great?! This guy's the reason why we all have anemones on our heads and have to work for free!
Reader: Nope, the reason why of all that it's that you're lazy and dumb and made a contract with the shadiest person on campus
Deuce: ...I thought you liked him?
Reader: the shadiness is part of his charm ~ ♡
And then maybe the twins tell him, or he was listening all along. It can be yandere or not, whatever you're in the mood for, sorry if it's too specific !!! Don't feel obligated to write it, thank you for reading this
Trapped at first sight
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reader: gender neutral
warnings: stalking mentions, possessive behaviour, obsession, delusional yandere and etc.
author note: I don't do fem!readers so i changed it to gn, hopefully you aren't annoyed for it. Since the thirst for Octavinille I can recommend you to check my masterlist and read my works, have a nice day <3
・゜゜・┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ °
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The first time you two made eye contact he felt a shiver run along his spine, but would you ever go on a date with him? The man that was once only a pathetic octopus? Same one that is tricking every student to make a contract only to his own good? Don't get him wrong, Azul loves his work but it's not morally correct and it's illegal in school. You two never talked before, the octoman is always busy and plus very shy when it's not about his work or school.
He became red when the eels revealed about your chats and "jokes" with your friends, so you were thinking of him and unfortunately knew of his contracts. Well it may slipped out of his mouth the words "let me know more about them", don't get too scared when you hear a little laugh or a pair of eyes on you. The dorm leader needs and must know your intentions, having you use or manipulate him is the last thing that will happen.
Hearing your soft words even though his actions warmed a place in his heart, just a little hug was enough for him but acting impulsively isn't wise so he just waited. Ace and Deuce weren't happy at all, why having a crush on someone like him? Many students could be better but you chose the only one that was giving problems. Still the worst was ahead of you and your friends, so much more to discover about the Octavinille's dorm leader.
So much shame filled him during his overblot, did anyone else than the twins see his merform? Did you lay your gaze on his octoform? His past, thoughts and more flying in the water, making Azul regret everything even the littlest thing. What were your thoughts on him now? After seeing his "disgusting" self and secrets, only a little hope that you wouldn't leave him was still present in his heart.
Once you went to visit him at the mostro lounge he almost had an heart attack, knowing that you forgave him and still needed his presence. Being straight forward and confessing how much you liked his personality, intelligence, hobbies but mostly his original form.. The second-year was going insane, how desperate were you for him? Or he was the worst one between the two? It wasn't important, he had enough courage to grab your arm and pull you to his favourite spot only to wrap his body around yours, feeling your warmth and hot breath on his skin. Finally he wasn't alone anymore, no more waiting and he could have been himself with someone who isn't the twins. Azul is going to be clingy as the octopus he is, so good luck and don't take any wrong steps or a punishment is ahead.
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silvertherogue715 · 7 months
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hello! How are you doing? Feeling any better since you caught that cold? This ask is gonna be about Sunstar mainly so I’m gonna split this up into different parts based on the questions. Knowing that Duo attacked and badly injured him I’m curious as to why? Was it cause of the bad emotions that he gave off and effected the other stardroids? Or just a chance encounter that didn’t go well? And does he just stay at one NEC or does he get the other one?
Emotions and relationship wise: Does the NEC still effect his emotions or are they more apparent then before because he only has one of the NEC he had originally? Does this change his behavior in anyway than what he was like originally? Especially his relationship with Terra and Minx(the last ask with his and Does he have any other relationships with the stardroids or know any Navis?
knowing that he’s the leader of the stardroids what does he do exactly?
with his ability being effected by emotions which sorts of emotions cause a increase in heat? Excitement, love, anger, etc. and just an angsty thought that came up has he ever out of instinct tried to grab someone out of panic or reflex and ended up burning them instead? (I assume he’s very careful but the concept of it happening to anyone(Minx, Terra, stardroid) is just a curiosity)
I hope you’re doing well! Have a good day/night! Thank you
I'm doing much better now, thank you! I don't get sick often, so I was a bit caught off-guard, but it also happened right before break when a bunch of assignments were nearing their deadlines. 
Hopefully I'll be able to dedicate way more time to shoveling out Brainrot AU stuff now.
This is a long one! I'll post my answers below the cut.
Why did Duo attack?
There’s a lot of lore for Duo in my AU, but I'm gonna try to simplify it here.
It’s canon in the MMBN anime that Duo began to see his creators and their civilization as evil, and that he eventually destroyed all life on Earth during that time before leaving on a rocket that mimics the appearance of a comet (which is powered by Negative Energy).
In my AU, he sees all NEC-Navis as inherently “evil.”
He uses this comet to approach sources of “evil,” and gives any intelligent life he comes across a “test” to determine whether or not they as a whole are evil and should be destroyed. This also means that Sunstar and the Stardroids are always on his radar. They have clashed several times.
Duo is the first and only Viren Navi with 5 GV-Crystals in his body, and Sunstar only absorbed the extra 3 NE crystals in his body to stand a chance against Duo when no other NE-Navi could. Unfortunately, he had no idea the consequences would be so dire, and was too far gone to stop by the time he realized.
Does he just stay at one NEC?
No. Sunstar is reduced to one NEC after Duo’s attack, but he does eventually regain up to 4 out of the 5 total.
The stardroids secure the two that go into his forearms before arriving to Earth.
Terra obtains the fourth, one of his original two that go in his chest, from Ra Moon after the Stardroids arrive on New Earth.
Minx finds the 5th later..but that’s not important right now =) 
Sunstar was never ”woken up” after the attack from Duo until Terra restored his other original NEC from Ra Moon inside his chest. All the Stardroids knew of the possible side effects from either losing or receiving damage to an Energy Crystal: there had been plenty of personal and historical references to use.
Had they activated him with one NEC, Sunstar would have been missing a huge chunk of his memories. In addition to this, he would have felt his emotions with an all-new intensity that he was unfamiliar with. Think of a usually calm and intimidating individual getting reduced to tears on a regular basis or verbally lashing out after an insult that wouldn’t have normally phased him. Positive side effects would be a temporarily clear mind and non-firey hands, but the downsides outweighed them tenfold. 
The change would definitely put a strain on his relationships. It’d be like having to learn about a person all over again.
What are his relationships?
Most Earth Navis Sunstar is familiar with he has met through/with Minx when he was still “Ra Moon.” He couldn’t/wouldn’t make many friends for several reasons, but some notable cases include:
Napalmman: Both love to talk about their respective netops (Nenji/Minx), and their shared love for explosions and anything fire-related. Friend!
Also occasionally talks with some coworker Navis Napalmman is friends with.
Sprout: Carson’s hilariously underwhelming but overpowered normalnavi. Carson is one of Minx’s older brothers, and due to plot reasons, Sprout is the only other Navi Ra Moon would see occasionally when Minx was a child.
Shadowman: Frenemies. He and Miyabi tried kidnapping him several times at one point, and Ra Moon loves to tease/annoy him whenever he gets the chance.
Shademan: Hate. Can and will fight on sight.
Forte/Bass: Sympathetic, but best to avoid. His relationship with Dr. Cossack (manga-based) is semi-mirrored by his relationship with Minx.
As for the other Stardroids…I hate to admit I have not thought of many specific interactions between Sunstar and all of them. This is the perfect opportunity to brainstorm though! Hmm..
Saturn would likely be chilly to Sunstar given his crush on Terra. Sunstar would probably dislike his poor work ethic and pull the occasional prank on him.   
Venus looks up to him, and while Sunstar finds her adorable, he regularly gives her physically harder tasks (like leading training sessions) to satiate her pride.
Sunstar is practically the only one who interacts with Mars–they both have a mutual understanding of the other, as each were deemed “monsters” by the Viren civilization. I wouldn’t describe them as friends, though.
Mercury annoys him to hell and back and Sunstar does his best to station Mercury as far away from himself as possible. 
Jupiter is one of the only Stardroids who will actively seek out Sunstar without going through Terra first. He has a deep respect for Sunstar’s strength, and finds him less intimidating due to his friendship with Uranus.
Uranus is terrified of Sunstar but plays it off with bravado by challenging him to fights. He has yet to win.
Sunstar likes Pluto and Jupiter maybe the most due to their sort-of friendship with Terra. Also, because Sunstar is absolutely a cat person.
I’ll need to think further on some of the other ones.
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What does he do?
Sunstar was created to serve as a symbol of protection for Virens, but more importantly for NEC Navis. He shadowed Terra for three major things:
How to lead as a representative for NEC Navi’s
How to observe and deal with hostile rival alien civilizations that may pose a threat to specific Viren settlements 
How to prevent and manage NE-Navi-related disputes while striving for a positive social image
Admittedly, Sunstar shadowed Terra for a majority of his time after being created. He very rarely acted without first consulting or collaborating with Terra first. Terra had both more knowledge and experience than him, but he also commanded more trust and respect from the population and other Viren leaders/council members.
Before Duo mutinied against the Viren civilization on Earth, Sunstar wanted to implement at least two policies/practices:
Raising awareness of and liquidating misinformation surrounding the nature of Negative Energy Crystals and NE-Navis.
The removal of exclusively positive or negative energy crystals.
He had proof it was possible for a hybrid design.
Now, though?
His ship is stranded on Earth with Duo no doubt closing in. The civilization that he was responsible for previously before is dead. The only thing he can do is try to protect the life he has secured on New Earth with friends and family, new and old. 
--
After reawakening with 4 NECs, Sunstar proceeds to lose the 2 in his forearms during a battle on Earth soon after re-arriving. They get shattered in the heat of the battle, and a decent chunk of Arc 2 is spent hunting down the shards before Duo can arrive.
What emotions cause an increase in heat?
Emotions like anger, fear, sadness, or any combination of those that can leave him feeling overwhelmed. Again, Sunstar’s emotions are more muted than regular NE-Navis, given he has two NECs. That means whatever he’s feeling has to be pretty intense for it to affect him so deeply, but he is most prone to anger out of any other ‘provocative’ emotion. 
Also! He kind of hates how his hands can be a “tell” for him. He may have a stoic persona, but there’s only so much you can hide behind an empty stare, or later, a mask, without your furiously flaming hands giving you away.
Has he burned someone accidentally?
Grabbing and shaking you. I love your brain. He absolutely has.
It doesn’t happen often anymore, not like when he was first created, but my god does it devastate him when it does. He knows what happens when he touches things: they burn. He can’t help but ask himself, why does he still slip up? He knows his loved ones know it is never out of malice, that it’s an accident, that they forgive him, but he finds it hard to forgive himself. 
It’s safe to say Sunstar has accidentally burned nearly all of the Stardroids at least once. For specific people, though?
Uranus: weirdly enough he wants to fight Sunstar hand-to-hand. Close combat is his forte, and he wants to prove he’s strong enough to push through and kind of foe–or pain.
Mercury: he is absolutely enough of an annoying bastard for Sunstar to chase him down on several occasions until he either hands over whatever he has stolen from another Stardroid, apologizes to whoever he pissed off, or mans his station.
Terra: multiple times back on Viren Earth. A few scenarios:
Sunstar grabbing Terra by the shoulders to protect him from falling debris
Sunstar accidentally burned Terra when the latter passed him something by hand.
Without thinking, Sunstar tried holding Terra’s hand during a wholesome moment for both.
Minx: (so far) twice.
Minx tried holding his hand, thoughtlessly.
Sunstar grabbed and pulled Minx by the arm to prevent her from wandering into oncoming traffic at night.
He always apologizes profusely, but has a bad habit of isolating himself for hours and sometimes days afterwards.
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He was apologizing for months afterwards.
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parkeryangs · 8 months
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OK BUT THIS IS REALLY INTRIGUING ACTUALLY. tell me more about this 'mattkey' ............
YES ABSOLUTELY OH MY GOD
SO in episode 1 participant observation, the main character, mike walters, claims to be "investigating" a secret online game called woe.begone out of curiosity/boredom, via actually playing the game. w.bg is a series of challenges, the first being that mike had to call his ex-boyfriend and tell him the worst thing he ever did to you.
mike does this, explaining that his "lifelong best friend" (matt) had unexpectedly died in a car crash, and his ex wasn't home at the time/didn't realize how serious the situation was, so he left mike to worry alone before matt's death had actually been confirmed. he tells his ex that he doesn't forgive him and has a breakdown, then waking up the next day to realize that matt wasn't dead and there was no trace of the voicemail he left for his ex. (so, at this point, mike continues to play w.bg, with matt as his "prize")
there's several other challenges he completes, along with another old friend of theirs also playing woe.begone, but the next marker of their relationship is in episode 11 this is only temporary, when mike's woe.begone challenge is to kill the prize from his first challenge— which is obviously matt. he explains the situation, a future version of him shows up to "prove" everything to matt, and ultimately matt slides his gun across the table, mike apologizes, and tells matt he loves him. (i talk more about this in another post)
at the end of season 1, woe.begone contacts mike to tell him that he has to relocate to a government job, a place called o.v.e.r./oldbrush valley energy & resources. he does, with season 2/3 following the start of his time in the valley & continued problem-causing due to w.bg lol. then in episode 35 safehouse, he kills another character and flees o.v.e.r., driving 26 hours to matt's house. he doesn't tell him all the details of what happened, but episode 36 respite is mostly dedicated to mike talking about the few days he spent with matt ("we didn’t need to do anything other than be in each other’s company") (i ramble about matt in 35/36 here)
there's a lot of non-mattkey events that occur, lol, but it gets to a point where matt essentially wants to be involved with a time travel org mike creates called base, but mike kind of keeps him at a distance for reasons unknown (coughs. mike does have a boyfriend he meets at o.v.e.r. and not saying it has anything to do with that but i'm also not Not saying that) and in episode 84 panther, matt helps with stalking two "rogue" iterations of mike and his boyfriend edgar (and i believe this is the first episode where matt has a voice actor?) and continues to do so throughout the current point in the podcast/"about a year" in canon time.
at the end of episode 120 true story, a (drunk) mike transports to matt's house as there was a timeline they'd been in (~e104 to 120ish iirc) where matt was dead once again because of mike. mike gives matt a box of his old stuff, and matt, worrying over mike using time travel when he's drunk lol, brings mike to stay in his spare room (that he mentions he's kept open since mike was last there). mike tells matt he loves him, and matt returns the sentiment.
so YEAH. mattkey my absolute beloved. imo their dynamic is very much "knowing one another better than they know themselves" if that gives you a more direct idea jksdhfjksdf. also college-era mattkey has been brainrotting the fandom recently which might be my fault LOL but pre-wbg mattkey is SO compelling even if only mentioned in passing - i talk about college mattkey here, here, here (kind of), and here, and i wrote a short fic about them here. overall, essentially the catalyst for everything in woe.begone is literally just. matt. like... mike literally rewrites time to keep matt safe and while it's true that mike has a deep relationship with most of his friends, matt is so intrinsically tied to him in a way that nobody else is.
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