#but he does avoid it like the plague in the aftermath or when he ‘comes to his senses’

[stewykablooey]

just re the ask about kendall sleeping with older men: im a bi kendall truther but imo kendall's general attraction to men is 100% packed tightly in the big box in his mind where he puts all the shit he compartmentalizes. i truly think the only guy he believes he's ever been attracted to is stewy and that's just because he rationalizes to himself that "it's just stewy and it's undeniable that stewy is hot". i find it hard to imagine that he would feel remotely safe or comfortable enough to allow himself have sex with any other men (even while high/drunk), let alone someone who could have the tiniest potential to remind him of logan. your point about it traumatising him is spot on

totally heard, i flip flop between the two a lot. i feel like i can definitely see kendall compartmentalizing gay sex so much that he PEMDAS’s himself into some weird ‘this isn’t gay sex because im not gay. im just getting off’ thinking. but also kendall would aaaaaabsolutley love the brand of homophobia that is ‘im not gay i just like ✨you✨’ or ‘im not attracted to stewy because he’s a man im attracted to him because it’s stewy’

[adventuringblind]

Oscar the Matchmaker: Part Two

Oscar Jack Piastri x Reader x Max Verstappen

Genre: series

Summary: Oscar struggles with the aftermath of Alpine and a rough start of the season

Warnings: Toxic work place

Notes: I’m using alpine drama as a plot point. Also they call Oscar Jack because lord it’s such a cute nickname he has.

Previous <-

Masterlist

The fact that two rookies are enjoying the luxury that comes with being a world champion is completely ridiculous.

Max loves to spoil them. Mainly because is makes them shy as they try to turn down his offers. He’s stubborn though and usually gives them no other choice but to relent.

Now he’s spoiling them with sleep. They all love sleep. All the time. It’s one of their favorite activities.

Max however, is not sleeping, just resting. His mind moving but his body remains stationary.

Oscar shoots out of the bed faster then Max can register. The Aussie is practically silent as he does it.

The Dutch is quick to follow him. Gently kissing the forehead of the girl still asleep before leaving the room.

Oscar is pacing back and forth, his hands tugging at his hair. He looks to Max as if he’s trying to seem productive and yet not getting anywhere simultaneously.

“Jack?”

He jumps at the sound of Max’s voice. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

“No, I was already awake, just to lazy to move.” Max drags him over to the couch. “Wanna talk about what’s going on in your head?” If there is one thing Max has learned about the Australian, it’s that he’s calm and collected outside and a whirl whine on the inside.

“I just panicked. It’s Tuesday.” He sighs.

A sleepy eyed female walks into the room and drapes herself over them. The two males practically use her as a blanket. “Tuesdays are Alpine meeting days.” Her voice may be sleepy, but the venom in her voice doesn’t go unheard. Max threads his fingers through her hair that is splayed messily across his lap.

"So muscle memory?" Asks the confused Dutch.

Oscar starts fumbling around with his words. "Well - no, it's just that- Alpine weren't the best to me, I guess." His fingers find his hair and run the back if his neck raw.

The confusion turns into concern as Max goes wide-eyed. He knows all the drama that happened. There were countless nights on the phone with Daniel about it. That was Max's first impression of the rookie. The fact he apologized to Daniel for taking his spot and being a hindrance to him.

"He'd gotten in trouble for over sleeping once, and it was absolutely hell. I had half a mind to report them to the FIA." The girl on their lap is flushing with frustration now, her knuckles turning white from her fist tightening around nothing.

Max could see the memories flooding the Australians eyes. He leans over to him and kisses the top of his head. "It makes sense now why you avoid them like the plague."

"They are the plague."

The witty comments sometimes shock the two. The girl is usually quiet around people she doesn't know and is kind for the most part. However, she's also protective.

Max and Oscar chuckle at her antics. Watching her carefully drift in and out of sleep.

~

The next race weekend, they walk in together. It's not uncommon since her and Oscare are practically attached at the hip, but Max is new. They just tell people it's a coincidence.

Oscar has always walked her to her garage. Currently, it's towards the end of the paddock. Meaning they have to pass Alpine to get to it.

Max takes not of how Oscar refuses to look anywhere but the ground. He can't see the female since she's on the other side of Oscar, but he can hear her seething.

The Australian visibly relaxs when they are past.

It sucks saying goodbye to her. They woke up this morning, and it felt perfect. The morning rays leak through the window, limbs tangled up in each other. None of them wanted to get up or leave.

Now, the first had gone off to work, and Max and Oscar were left to walk back down.

Max makes it a point to walk on the side closest to the hospitality entries. He doesn't say anything as they near the door. Some of the guys in charge meandering around right outside.

"I know what you're doing." Says the Australian.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Max looks at him and winks. Somehow, the action calmed Oscar's overreacting brain.

Max waved off Oscar as he jogged to catch up with Lando. The Brit shot him a few confused glances. The ones that said he has questions.

Lando may he an idiot, but he's not as oblivious as everyone thinks he is.

Max leaves that for another day.

~

She knew something was off with the Austr as soon as he entered the room. They're all exhausted from the race, but he was completely void of life.

There's no goofy smiles or sarcastic jokes. Just Oscar, sitting on the bed staring at the wall. She can see him processing something. Whatever it is, it can't be good.

She looks at Max. The Dutch just stares at her with confusion. She'd learned that his upbringing made him mildly clueless when it came to dealing with emotion.

With that in mind, she sets off to Oscar's side. She sits down next to him and takes his hand in her own. "Jack, you gotta talk to us." She signals Max with her eyes to sit on the other side of him. Good thing she's not clueless or they would be in trouble.

"It's stupid drama stuff."

"It's not stupid if it's making you upset." She puncuates with a kiss on his cheek.

"Stupid Alpine and their stupid comments. Apparently, I am not the most expensive but terrible rookie to ever be signed." He sighs. They can hear how he tries to pass it off, but they both know he's lying.

"Lies and slander. You're the best rookie this season. You're driving a tractor right now for fucks sake." Max says.

"Logically, I know that. Emotionally, I don't."

"And you're not required to know that yet, technically speaking." She counters, causing the Australian to roll his eyes.

Max chuckles to himself. “I could crash my car into their garage if you really want me too.”

“As funny as that sounds, I would rather you win if neither of us can even get close.”

“…at least you two are consistently in the points!”

~

Tuesday again. They all lay asleep in bed together. Max opens his eyes for a moment and catches the females gaze.

She places a finger over her lips and points at Oscar. The Australian breathing evenly, sound asleep.

[radiaurapple]

Lucid Dreams of New Orleans: Chapter 8

CHAPTER SUMMARY: IN WHICH Alastor goes for a swim.

The last time Lucifer saw his father, he was granted a fragment of His divine power — a punishment in the guise of a blessing — that he might serve as steward of the wayward souls cast down into Hell. It is a cruel gift, designed to ensure that he will always be haunted by his mistakes; Lucifer has endured the past seven thousand years by avoiding its use at all costs. But in the aftermath of the fight with Adam, Alastor’s worsening injury threatens the foundations of his daughter’s dream. Lucifer does what any good father would do: he uses his long-forgotten power to deliver Alastor’s soul from the brink of destruction. In turn, knowing Alastor — with all his sins, past lives, and heartbreaks — teaches Lucifer a little more about what it means to be human.

[AO3 LINK]

Another Saturday means another chapter + another promo art attempt!!! it's human Alastor and Lucifer on the subway!! Next chapter coming next Saturday, chapter preview below! 📻🍎

Alastor returns the next three nights. Lucifer brings him first to Victorian-era London, where they explore the rainy streets under a conjured umbrella. The following night they visit a speakeasy in Chicago — the next they spend wandering the streets of modern Tokyo. 

It is nothing like those nights, so many years ago now, when Lucifer would seek out Lilith’s warmth on the other side of the bed. When he and Lilith touched, they almost always ended up somewhere sleepy and serene — a meadow in the midst of Eden’s enormous, ancient trees, or a breezy morning on the deserted Mongolian steppe, in one of Lucifer’s memories of the age before humans spread across the Earth. Perhaps it had reflected a love built more on companionship than actual desire — the love that would bind any two souls alone at the desolate edge of the world. The love that hadn’t been strong enough, in the end, to hold them together — that had instead flickered out over the years into a warm but lonely friendship. 

This is different. 

The doors of the F train slide shut and the train lurches into motion — Lucifer glares up at Alastor, both of them gripping the pole in the center of the car. 

They’re in New York in 2019. Alastor’s visit today was an unexpected surprise on a lazy morning with no meetings and nothing to do; they’d arrived here just before sunset and spent a while exploring the Lower East Side before they hopped on the train at 2nd Avenue.

“You are fucking unbelievable,” Lucifer says, too loud — a father seated between his two children casts him an affronted glance over the top of his phone. Lucifer continues at a whisper: “How the Hell can you be so sure this is a downtown train? You’ve never even been to New York.”

“I can be sure because I have made use of an advanced technique known as observation of our surroundings. I highly recommend it.”

“Okay, well, you’re wrong. I’m getting off at the next stop. Asshole.” 

“This is a downtown train,” says a voice behind him, not unkindly — Lucifer turns around to find an elderly woman watching them, leaning her forearms against a cart of groceries. She inclines her head above her, at the monitor that lists the upcoming stops. “See? It’s going to Brooklyn.” 

“Oh,” Lucifer says. 

He shifts his weight on his feet as the train slows to a stop. The doors slide open; Lucifer stares out at the pillar reading Delancey/Essex and fights a losing battle against the flush rising on his face. After what feels like an eternity, the doors close again and the train accelerates out of the station.

“This is my first time in New York,” Lucifer says to the woman, as if it will in any way improve this situation. The woman glances up at him again and offers him a smile, but says nothing.

“No, it isn’t,” Alastor says behind him. “He’s been here many times before. He is the Devil, nearly as old as time itself — unfortunately he is notoriously absent-minded and plagued by the regrettable belief that he is always correct.”

The woman blinks at Alastor. The silence is broken by the deafening screech of the train’s brakes as it slows; the doors slide open before an enormous sign that reads East Broadway. 

“Ah — this is our stop. Thank you for your assistance,” Alastor says. He steps fluidly off the train and turns down the platform, toward the exit.

Lucifer stares after him in shock for a long moment, then jolts forward. “Hey!” He trips off the train, quickly rights himself — “You can’t just tell people I’m the Devil!” 

Alastor’s laughter echoes down the platform like music. 

[AO3 LINK]

[talesfromlissom]

hello everything is fine? If requests are still open, I would like to know if you can do the reaction of the Decepticons (Megatron, Tarn, Overlord and Soundwave) with a Cybertronian s/o who is a cannibal and uses a fucinheira? Is she a powerful and insane warrior? If you don't want to write, ignore it, thank you.

Fandom: Transformers (IDW?)

TW: Violence, Implied Gore, Cannablism

Rules | Ask Box | Kofi

A/N: I don’t normally do IDW requests (haven't read it all, and I also assumed that's the universe you wanted), however I recognize these characters enough that I did the request anyways because my inbox has been the sahara desert for the past couple of months Anyways I loved this request, so thank you. And yes, everything is good. 

MEGATRON

 » He puts a leash on you, sorry. 

 » Your relationship is absolutely terrifying, a lord and his loyal guard dog that eats people

 » When he first discovered your cannabalistic tendencies, he was shocked at first. He mainly just cops it up as a habit not yet broken from your upbringing. He had to do various unsavory things to survive being a low caste member, so why were you any different? 

 » relationship wise your dynamic is pretty much what is said above. You parades you around like a trophy, and sometimes even feeds you the severed limbs/organs of his prisoners. You don't mind as long as your fed apparently.

 » A long time ago, (for shits and giggles) he had said that he would use you as an execution method. Mainly for individuals that betrayed him and Megatron didn’t feel like hunting them down himself. When he saw how enthusiastic you were he made it a thing. 

 » Nothing pleases him more than letting you out of the muzzle to go ‘hunt’ and seeing you bring back a limb, organ, or seeing your intake covered in energon. It does something to him. 

 » May or may not have a predator/prey kink now 

TARN 

 » Probably the one to give you the muzzle in the first place.  

 »  You’re definitely a member of DJD by the way, I’d imagine he’d name you after the capital of his home city.

 » You and him met when he was going after yet another Decepticon traitor. He had expected to find yet another snivling coward, or a fighter. 

 » What he found was a half eaten corpse with you hovering over it. You looked wild, disheveled, but there was a sense of intelligence in your optics despite how much bloodshed you caused. 

 » And you caused alot. 

 » (Similar to Megatron) If on the rare occasion that the DJD’s current target gets away he send you on the hunt. He always orders you to bring them back alive, but he never says if they have to come back with all their limbs in tact. 

 » He prefers to kill them himself, and alternates between letting Tesarus grind them into bits or letting you eat them alive. 

 » He once had Tesarus grind a deserter into paste, and then Tarn served it to you as some fucked up smoothie. 

 » He still laughs about it to this day btw 

OVERLORD 

  » Was most likely frightened of you at first. You were strong, probably insane because you flat out ate people without a care in the world. However, that wasn’t what frightened him. 

 » You were smart. Every kill you made was calculated and precise. It was always people that the others wouldn’t notice missing. You memorized their schedule, the type of energon they had, the amount of exercise they got. 

 » Your prey was carefully, hand selected. You had certain types of people that you went after to consume, and people you avoided like the plague. 

  » At first he didn’t notice that various prisoners were going missing. He didn’t care, they couldn’t escape even if they tried. He didn’t really mind if the other Decepticons had dragged some loud mouthed Autobot out of their cells to give them a piece of their mind to be honest. 

 » And then he found a half eaten Autobot hanging from the ceiling, and that scared the hell out of him. He knew about your tendencies to devour your fellow Cybertronian, he just never thought he’d witness the aftermath. 

 » Afterwards you two come with a sort of unspoken agreement. You’re clearly settling for half cooked chow and he isn’t sure how long you’ll be satisfied with that. 

 » He keeps a close eye on you, and has a ‘list’ of your ‘most liked’ traits in a prey. Their energon type, the functionality of their frame, that sort of thing. If they happened to win enough fights, instead of Overlord giving his usual, ‘kill me or kill yourself’ dilemma, he rearranges it to ‘kill you or kill yourself’. 

 » You look completely unassuming to most, and you use that your advantage. 

 » Overlord loves seeing the look on people’s face when you don’t go for the kill, but instead open your mouth. The moment they see what’s inside they start screaming. 

 » He’ll never get tired of those noises. 

[honouredsatoru]

A Little Promise To The Heart

— summary. an aftermath of after two months when your lover comes home and you two got into a fight. with a little bit of angst but fluff follows suit. a gift for @shadowarchon and as a return to writing in tumblr.

— tw. none. it's just angst and subtle fluff. not really proofread as usual.

— taglist. @noritoshiikamo @nkogneatho @sirthisisa-wendys @laudthingcat @lazy10ieiri @booksweet @beautiful-is-boring @sassooda @sixeyesgojo @katsukisbimbo @tojisveryown @peachsayshi @amaya-writes (leave me an ask if you want to be tagged!)

You stared in disbelief at the figure standing in front of you,

"You're... You're actually here."

Your hands grabbed whatever that was next to you and with every energy you could muster up, you threw it, hoping it'll hit him and maybe ease up the pent up anger that has been building for the past two months.

"TWO MONTHS. TWO BLOODY MONTHS TOJI?! After two months of complete silence, of not knowing where the fuck you've been.... you just waltz back into my life like nothing happened?" Toji spots a weary look on his face as he squeezed his nape. "I had no choice, love. You know what I do, what I've always done. It's not easy to explain, but I needed to protect you."

You let out a petty scoff, "Protect me? By disappearing without a trace?" you threw another random object at Toji, only for him to avoid it perfectly as he did before. "Listen... [your name], I'm sorry, really and truly. But you have to understand, my work... it's dangerous. I never wanted to hurt you. But I had to go off the grid completely, and they would have used you as leverage. I couldn't let that happen. I can't afford to have any attachments. There will be people going after me, and YOU. I can't let that happen, I can't afford to have any attachments in my way while I am working, [your name]."

Your voice trembling with anger as you listened to Toji's explanation. It makes sense in your head but to your heart, it does not. It's fighting against one another to help you come up with a response... and this time, you chose the one beating through your chest. "So you think... I am a burden? Oh. OH. M-me? Little old me as an attachment to you is nothing but a burden. Is that what you're implying?"

Some time later...

The room was filled with tension, their heated argument echoing through the walls but it ended as exhaustion crept its way through both of your bodies and head. The clock struck close to 3 in the morning as you paced through the living room before finally standing by the window, staring at the city lights and the roads that will never be deprived of cars driving by. You huffed with arms crossed tightly against your chest, while Toji now stands a few paces, no more than 10 steps behind you, a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it every now and then, frustration plastered on his face.

This isn't the first time, really, where you and Toji had clashed over his dangerous profession as an assassin, a subject that had haunted your relationship for as long as you could remember. At first, of course you were shocked, thinking that this business he claimed to be in was in was a mere service as a second hand to Tokyo's largest conglomerate, The Zen'in Enterprise. But an assassin? You remember the day he came clean after finding a weapon he thought he hid so well from you. You could've just left, you know, but your heart and soul made it a firm stand on the grounds of earth for you to stay. But now... logic and sense started to sink in and so does the thoughts that plagued your very mind whenever he is away.

As the silence settled, Toji approaches you slowly, his eyes softened with regret, his shoulders heavy with remorse. Taking a deep breath, he reached out, turned you around and gently rests his hand to your cheek. He could feel you trembling from that alone. "Love, I didn't mean to hurt you," he whispered, "But you have to understand as I said before, with this job and the bloodshed I've committed, darling, it's not as simple as just quitting."

You turned your gaze towards him, your eyes reflecting a mix of love and concern, letting out such deep breath, "I know it's not easy Toji... but... but I can't bear the thought of losing you. Do you have any idea what I've been through? Every time you leave, my heart is filled with fear. I can't stand it any longer. You don't know what it's like waking up to an empty bed in the middle of the night, the sheets felt cold even on the hottest of nights, eating my food away but none of it felt easy going down through my throat, and it feels like I am drowning myself whenever I take a sip of water, not knowing if you were alive or dead? The pain... Toji... it will consume me," you replied, you voice quivering. "At first, it was thrilling, it was... fun. You know? Dating a bad boy, someone who works against the laws, but a day or two turned into a week, and a week a fortnight, and now? Two months. This realization and coming to my senses made me realize how scared I am. The sense of losing someone so fucking dear to me," you continued. He sighed, looking away for a split second before turning his gaze back at you. "I do unders–", "No you don't! You don't, Toji! I worked a normal job where you get to see me leave and return safely. I tell you whenever I am on my lunch break, I let you know if the taxi is a little too late so I'll be wandering off in the nearby cafes till you pick me up. That's letting you know that I am there. I am safe and sound. But with you? A job like that has no guarantee of survival."

The sounds of ambulances, cars, even the streaks of the light poles from outside were like needles stuck onto their skins. Toji took your hand, intertwining their fingers, and looked deep into your eyes, his other hand cupping your cheek, with his thumb grazing on your lips. "Again, darling, I never wanted to cause you any pain," he said tenderly. "But being an assassin is all I've known. It's how I've survived in this unforgiving world. I tried getting out of this path. Believe me, I did. But it is so hard," he pauses. "However, for you, my love, I'll find a way out. I'll find a path where we can both be safe."

Tears streamed down your face as you looked at him, your heart aching with a mixture of emotions. "I believe in you," she whispered, her voice filled with vulnerability. "I believe that together, we can overcome anything. Just tell me that you'll try, you don't even have to promise, just let me know... that you'll fight for a different life.", you stopped for a second, Toji looking at you, scanning every lines, every twitch you eyes made, the way you lips pursed as you body once again tried hiding the trembles it produces whenever you blinked her tears to stop yourself from crying. "I do not wish to fight you. I do not wish to mourn you when life has so much for the both of us. For you. Especially you, Toji. I do not wish to wake up and forever be ignorant of your whereabouts one day, some of these days if you not make any haste to leave this world of murder and spillage of blood." You take deep breath, laughing to yourself. He pulled you in, holding you close, enveloping you in his embrace, as if protecting you from all the darkness that surrounded them. "I love you," he murmured, his words filled with determination. "And I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe, to build a future where we can live without fear." "I promise." said he, which made your eyes widened for a moment. "Promise?", you whispered. "I promise." said Toji, lips curled into a smile laced with softness that made you return the smile.

In that moment, the heat and weight of their argument lifted, replaced by a sense of hope, love, a clean slate ready to be scribbled with another row of trials and tribulations washing over their souls and hearts. They both knew that the journey ahead would be challenging, but their commitment to each other was unbreakable. As they held onto each other in a tight embrace, they found solace in the fact that their love would conquer the obstacles that lay ahead, leading them to a brighter and safer tomorrow.

"I love you, too, Toji Fushiguro."

all writing belongs to honouredsatoru.

reblogs are appreciated. ♡

[p4rallel-universe]

brokeback (pt.2)

(Lip Gallagher x male reader)

summary: part 2 to my previous fic of the same name. Lip and Y/N deal with the aftermath of their kiss in different ways, and they both find they have questions that need to be answered.

it's saturday and Lip hasn't slept a full night in 4 days. between school and work his head is too full. and of course, something else is plaguing his mind. but he'd rather not think about it.

he feels like a dick, really he does. because he's been avoiding you, and it feels different to when he'd blow off Amanda, or even yell at Mandy. because then, he was angry with them, or just didn't care. but with this, he's just angry at himself. he smokes and smokes and doesn't feel any better about it. which is a new experience.

you, on the other hand, can't help but think about what happened. and you don't want to not think about it. it was the type of thing you just can't fake, or explain. you haven't slept much either. Ian's wondering what's going on and you can't not notice. thankfully, his very-straight brother having a passionate encounter with you isn't the first thing that comes to mind when he thinks of reasons why Lip is avoiding you.

a hot cigarette makes the cold morning better for lip. standing in his tank top and boxers, in his old bedroom where the boy he doesn't want to think about has been sleeping. behind him he hears movement in the hallway and the sound of Ian grunting in the doorway. he turns to see him doing pullups. which is a good thing, because it means this is a good phase (as long as pull-ups doesn't turn to 3 hour runs, which turns to 3 hour drives, which turns to another stint in the psych ward).

"yo," he says, flicking his cig out the window, Ian nods, as he counts to himself in grunting whispers. Lip considers a second before asking a question,

"hey, so when you were, uh, growing up, how'd you know about the uh...gay thing?" he cringes as he asks, because it's never really been something they talked about,

"what?" Ian pauses, taken aback and Lip covers for himself,

"i mean uh, c'mon you were like 14...15?- like, what made getting screwed by your 30 year old boss so appealing, ya know? i guess i always wondered that, how you knew." he hopes this make it sound more like a jokingly invasive question than a plea for advice,

"i dunno man, guess i just...felt different. then when i reached puberty i knew i couldn't get it up to girls. you know, Kash wasn't really my first choice, he was just there." Ian looks solemn for a second before he resumes his efforts on the pullup bar.

"yeah, fucking creep..." Lip chuckles and pauses, and he's really cautious now,

"look, and what's the deal with Mickey? you, and the roughest catch on the southside. he your boyfriend? or are you just fuck buddies?" Lip tries to sound insulting instead of curious, and it works, because Ian withdraws for a second,

"i don't really know, i guess we hang out." his jaw hardens and he strains to lift himself up again,

the room goes quiet of voices for a second, before Lip speaks up, "you love him?", and Ian drops off the bar,

"look, why do you care anyway?" Ian looks puzzled, and rightly so, because Lip has never taken an interest before and has no reason to now. Lip shrugs in an attempt at nonchalance,

"i like how he smells. and his face, like, his eyes or something. his hair when he wakes up. it doesn't mean i love him, i guess we just hang out." and then he leaves.

Lip mellows in that for a bit, and he sits on the bed next to where he's been stood. his eyes fall to a discarded shirt on the floor which isn't Ian's and isn't his, so be guesses it must be yours. he picks it up and holds it close to his chest, he closes his eyes and breathes for a bit. "i like how he smells."

it's later on that night when you come home, walking through the door just as Ian's heading out, away to see Mickey - who you've heard so much about, but not actually met - and he says hello and goodbye before shifting past you. it's another rare quiet night in the Gallagher house, which you've gotten very used to. it feels a lot like a home should - but it's not like you'd really know.

"hey," a voice startles you, "not seen you around today." it's Lip, and this statement is pretty funny, because he's the reason he's not "seen you around" today. or any other day this week. but you're not angry, really, you can't be.

"was just out." you reply and he nods. you raise your eyebrows a bit because it honestly looks like he's studying you. probably some pretentious college class excersise, "analyse your roommates faces and unlock the secrets of their psyche". "you good?" you ask, because for the first time in days, he's not just meeting your eyes but really looking in them. like he's trying to find something he lost there.

"yeah, yeah." and it's like he snaps back to reality. you secretly hope this means what you want it to mean. Lip, on the otherhand, has just memorised everything from your lips to your y/e/c eyes. "his face, like, his eyes or something."

"i'm, uh, going to bed." he mumbles. and then you're alone in the living room, and feeling very fucking confused. because seriously, what is this guys deal? he kisses you till your lips are bruised, then ignores you for days, now he stares at you like some fancy painting and seconds after just runs off? it should piss you off, but it doesn't.

it's 1 AM, you can't sleep and everythings too quiet. you can't stop thinking about Lip. his blue eyes when he was staring at you. his strong arms you held onto when you kissed. his mind and how he thinks, and how you can't for the life of you figure him out.

it's this train of thought that brings you to his bedroom door. you don't really bother to knock. you open the door and there he is, sleeping. and it's honestly really attractive how boyish he is in sleep. limbs splayed, his already messy curls even messier. the urge to shake him awake and kiss him fills you. that's when you decide there's nothing to lose, really. either way you'll get the answer you need.

you walk over and stand over him for a second. you admire his face and how young he looks. without really thinking, you reach out a hand and run it through his hair, over the side of his face. you think maybe you shouldn't wake him up, because this is too perfect. but this won't last forever, and you can't hang in the balance. you just want to know how he feels, even if it isn't what you want to hear.

you shake his shoulders gently and he stirs, his eyes open when you whisper his name. he looks at you, confused,

"Y/N, what the hell?" he rasps, voice groggy with sleep. everything you had planned out in your head to say or do escapes you. so you just kiss him. and he kisses you. hard.

he pulls you ontop of him, his hands traveling up your back. your hands are in his hair, it's needy and a bit rough. which is understandable, because you've barely spoke for days let alone come close to kissing like this. and when you want someone like this, when you can't even sleep for thinking about them, you can't just kiss them once and not want- no, need to do it every second for the rest of your life.

when the kiss ends, it's you who pulls away. you're both breathing heavily, and Lip has his hands clasping your face like he's scared you aren't really there. he looks into your eyes and it's like the whole world becomes blue.

"i'm sorry-" he starts, panting,

"no, no, it's okay. it's okay, look, just tell me what you feel." you kiss him quickly again and he holds your face tighter,

"i just- i want to be with you." he kisses you this time, and again, and again.

"that's it then." and you don't really need to say much else about it. he kisses you again and this time you just don't stop

the next morning, Lip wakes up first, and looks at you, asleep next to him. he thinks you're beautiful, really. in a way no girl ever has been to him. you stir and he chuckles,

"hey, morning." and you smile at him, too tired to reply yet. he notices how your hair sticks up and falls on your face, boyishly. he smiles to himself as you rub your eyes. "his hair when he wakes up".

something about this morning makes Lip feel so much better. like he doesn't need a cigarette, or college, or to break anything. like it's okay to just sit a while.

he thinks that's pretty fucking great.

A/N - i've always really loved the scene where Ian tells Carl he and Mickey "hang out" and that he likes how he smells. i thought it really applied to a lot of mlm relationships? especially in brokeback mountain, where the title ofc comes from lol. so i figured i'd include it kinda as it adds to the plot lmao.

(also, @thehermitsaltar, p sure you wanted a pt. 2? well here you go👍)

[miss-nandini]

Hi can we have this but the opposite way?? I feel like hearing this from kalim would break my heart! Thank you 💜!

Hey there! Hope you are doing well. I'm sorry for being late. Enjoy and have a great day/night/afternoon. Thank you! 💜💜

HC: He says "I hate you" during an argument + Aftermath

"I HATE YOU !!"

Housewardens

Words can cut deeper than a sword.

"I hate you"

Riddle: He was horrified. How could he say that to you?! He can never hate you! He wanted to apologize immediately. But, words froze in his tongue. He couldn't do anything but watch in shame as you leave the room.

Leona: Oh no... He never meant that! He was furious with himself for letting his anger and pettiness get the best of him. You, out of all people didn't deserve to hear such horrible words. His ears drooped in shame as you run out of his room.

Azul: No no no! There's no way he said that to you! Literally ends up sobbing in front of you. He seriously hates himself. You still couldn't forgive him. So, you turned on your heels and left him alone with his thoughts.

Kalim: Personally, I don't think he will ever say that to anyone. Even, if he does he will end up crying a river right then and there. A string of apologies will follow. If you choose to leave, he will understand.

Vil: His tongue froze just like Riddle. He will be hella guilty. But, he still won't apologize easily. His insecurities will end up getting the best of him and he might just end up gaslighting you. Just turn around and leave, really.

Idia: Speechless. He said that to you? He is in denial. There's no way, right? But, in reality, he ended up hurting you in the worst way possible. He just wants to disappear at this point. It's better to leave him like that for awhile. Once he musters up enough courage, he will eventually apologize.

Malleus: Instant Regret. You can't really expect this guy to say such a thing but, trust me he is hella petty when he wants to be. The dragon prince wants to apologize and hold you, but, you step back. You have something called self respect. Will definitely go out of his way to apologize when the both of you have calmed down.

Aftermath

Riddle: He will invite you for tea. If you decline, then, he will approach you himself and ask you again. However, if you accept just for the sake of him, then, he is touched. Will apologize multiple times. He will understand if you end up breaking things off with him. However, if you accept his apology he will definitely do anything for you to assure you that he loves you.

Leona: Confronts you when you were alone in the botanical garden. He doesn't say much, but you can tell he is sincere. He is ready to accept whatever decision you make. If you end things with him, he will be heartbroken but will accept your decision. If you forgive him, he will go out of his way to make you feel better.

Azul: Can't look you in the eyes. You avoid him like the plague and he is too scared to approach you. A little nudge from the tweels will work eventually. He will apologize again and again. He is ready to cry. Don't let him hate on himself by the way. If you break-up, he will need years to come to terms with it. If you forgive and take him back, he will make sure to show you just how much he loves you.

Kalim: He won't last two days without you. Apologize for every chance he gets. He will bring you your favourite food, leave letters and gifts at your doorstep. Really, you can't stay mad at him for too long. If you still choose to break up then he will understand, but it will take too long for him to go back to his old self. If you take him back he will give you so many hugs and kisses. Get ready to be spoiled.

Vil: He just dosen't know how to apologize. He doesn't deserve your forgiveness, he knows that. But, that one part in him still hopes that you will take him back. He is getting torn apart without you. When he finally apologizes, it's on point and sincere. He admits his every mistake and promises to rectify himself. If you choose to end things with him, he will accept it with a heavy heart. If you take him back, he will cancel every single thing for the day and pamper you.

Idia: He can barely form a proper sentence while apologizing to you. It takes several attempts for him to actually apologize properly. He knows he doesn't deserve you. Why would you even want someone like him? Stop him there, or else he will just end up shit talking about himself. If you break-up with him, he will hole himself up in his room for a week and cry his heart out. If you forgive him then he is ready to do whatever you want, yup, even interact with normies.

Malleus: You are upset and so is he. He let his emotions get in the way of his common sense and he regrets it. Just like Kalim, he will spoil you with extravagant gifts. He will apologize to you as well. He might just tail you if you decide to walk away from him. Be prepared to have a sulking dragon following you like a lost puppy. He will apologize in every way he can. If you still end up breaking up with him then be prepared to face a long-lasting bad weather, since the prince is absolutely heartbroken. If you take him back, he will treat you like a queen for the rest of your lives.

[someoneinthecrowd0757]

Misa no Uta is an underrated masterpiece that changes Misa's whole characterization fr fr

Misa no uta is one of the most compelling moments in the entire Death Note series, within one of the most compelling episodes of the series (if not just outright the best). 

To cement his return as Kira, Light plans to kill L. Light requires Misa to be at risk for this, throwing her under the bus if the plan fails and REM weren’t to save her but guaranteeing the deaths of L and REM both if it succeeds, and it's very likely to do so.

As Misa walks the streets of Japan, she sings this song to herself and the audience that immediately stands out, being the sole musical number in the series. 

The song is about her relationship with Light and Kira, her place by his side as the loyal follower turned God herself. It’s about love, trust, fanaticism and the danger of allowing yourself to know something for a fact or to choose the version of reality that provides you the most happiness, whether it’s the full truth or not. Her powerlessness in the face of what he is is not something she’s ignorant to, and the ways he continually takes advantage of this drain her of life a little further everyday, and yet she wouldn’t give it to anybody else. How could she? She is indebted to him, in her eyes. 

“Hold my hand in the dark street for if you do I know that I’ll be safe” Kira saved her. He ensured the death of the man who killed her parents and nearly killed her in one of those dark streets she so fears. Misa never recovered, she ran open armed into the belly of the beast before she could ever begin to do so. By the time the consequences of her actions became clear, and Kira's nature was startlingly apparent, it was too late to attempt to stop this. So she lies to herself, and justifies this all with the guarantee of safety she's been provided.

“Even if I'm far away and alone, I can be sure that you’ll find me there. This, I know.” and this is the indisputable fact of the matter, isn't it? That even if she forgets, surrenders the Death Note and lives her life, it is simply the illusion of control. She knows she’ll be back, she knows she’ll be brought to Light’s side again by herself with no memories of what he turned out to be. Then, even if she isn’t? What becomes of her? Surely Light would never let her simply walk away, and she knows that. So the lies she tells herself are cemented by that, and her fanaticism surrounding Kira becomes a pillar of who she is. For if that is lost, if she doesn’t believe that he is attempting to achieve good anymore, then how can she love him despite the way he treats her?

“You draw me close for a while, so quiet, you tell me everything” at the start they operated somewhat as equals, with Misa having the upper hand of REM on her side. Light does keep her informed, does treat her as an equal (outwardly, at least). Yet once they are imprisoned, once the tide shifts entirely, this changes inalterably and in a way Misa has no time or opportunity to change. 

“If i forget what you say then you’ll come to me and tell me again, yes you’ll tell me once again…”  This once again is cementing her handling of the aftermath of this shift, her now regaining her memories entirely and seeing the forest for the trees. There is no escape for Misa, and any ticket out was lost before she could do a thing. REM will die, though I don’t know if Misa knows of this at this point. I'm certain she couldn’t have been fully ignorant to it being highly likely, and she will serve Kira until her dying breath. She has made her peace with that long ago, deciding it’s for the greater good and serving the life debt she believes she owes him.

But then there’s the question. The one plaguing her throughout the rest of the series, I’d say–The truth that she continuously makes the conscious decision to avoid looking in the face.

“But what happens when I know it all, what should I do after that? What then?” 

This is where the fact that this scene has played out as almost a funeral procession, ending with her standing on the very rooftop where she will eventually meet the answer to her question, cements this as an eerie, gorgeous, perfect scene. Misa will have nothing to live for, is the answer. If all she has done has been in the name of helping a madman who not only doesn’t love her, but actively dislikes her? If this life debt was unwanted, if Kira wasn’t all that good at all? If he’s not a god, if her parents were simply a number amongst the many hundreds of thousands Light kills… then why did she survive any of it? Why is she still here? 

I’m also fascinated with the choice to have at what point in time this scene takes place in, be somewhat impossible to fully discern. This is the same outfit, the same sunset, the same ledge that Misa’s story ends with. When she kills herself at the end of the series, is that moment one we’ve long ago witnessed already? Is this meant to indicate that anything of Misa truly died then? Or is this the moment she reflects upon when she makes that fateful walk, years from now? Is this the moment she wishes she could go back to? To change?

In all reality, I truly wish that more of the intricacies to Misa's character that are implied heavily would've been made somewhat more text than they ever are in canon. Many people's opinions of her character are somewhat justified, although I think that some of the way that people react is a tad misogynistic at times as well but the way she exists as a woman in service to Light who wants for nothing and lives for nothing else is, too, in it's nature a misogynistic thing. I think that Misa is fascinating as a character and would be infinitely more fascinating if the subtext heavily implied in this scene were made more canonical than it was.

[mikkaeus]

5.17 the social contract really gave us everything huh. the pt with the frontal lobe disinhibition who starts saying his thoughts with no filter and driving away his wife and kid, house seeing himself in him, wilson yelling at him about trying to pry into every aspect of his life — and right afterwards when the pt asks him to do the incredibly dangerous surgery to maybe fix the frontal lobe issue he goes to chase and when chase asks him why, he actually has a genuine, vulnerable moment that he leaves be instead of immediately turning around and making a joke or deflecting as he’s done in the past

When he leaves here, he's going to lose his family. He's gonna alienate the people he works with. And if he ever finds a friend who's willing to put up with his crap, he'll be lucky. Until he drives them away too.

and then just like. house actually volunteering to go to new york with wilson when he meets his brother to support him!! (though he gets caught up in a case and misses the big moment, it’s a big fucking leap nonetheless). their conversation about wilson feeling responsible for what happened to his brother (his villian niceness origin story. which is actually pretty fucking heartbreaking. So you made your one effort to live a normal, selfish life, and the universe immediately smacked you down. And because we're wired to find meaning in semi-random events, you decided never to be that careless again.) and house isn’t a facetious asshole for once. it’s his own brand of comforting, as a wilson-proclaimed ‘reality junkie’. which is capped off by the final lines of the episode:

Wilson: Do you think things will work out with my brother? House: No. But when it does go wrong, it won't be your fault. Wilson: Thanks, House. ← THIS WAS GENUINELY FUCKING HEARTFELT please kill me

and we also get this excellent articulation of why they WORK

House: Does it bother you that we have no social contract? Wilson: (laughs) My whole life is one big compromise. I tiptoe around everyone like they're made of china. I spend all my time analyzing: What will the effect be if I say this? Then there's you. You're a reality junkie. If I offered you a comforting lie, you'd smack me over the head with it. Let's not change that.

and that’s not even getting started on the secondary plotlines of 

- house being shocked and upset when wilson says he’s just been pretending to like monster trucks?? and his need to reaffirm that that was a lie in the aftermath??? like although he obviously didn’t take it at 100% face value he was definitely worried that it was true, that wilson had been putting on a front for him as he does for the rest of the world 

- house’s reaction to thinking that wilson’s got cancer ± SI. (yeah i know what’s coming unfortunately despite me avoiding spoilers like the plague. i foresee many tears in my future) (man all the fake cancer scares so far hit fucking different when you know the ending)

- house’s reaction to thinking that taub is hanging out with wilson. pls he’s so jealous. 

[littleperilstories]

The Prince of Thieves: Connected Far Beyond a Miracle

Mood Boards | Chapter Titles | Also on A03! | Playlist | Story Intro

Warnings: mention of jail, aftermath of traumatic events, fear of suicidal ideation/self harm (mentioned), very vague reference to a previous death wish (not explicit at all)

Previous | Masterlist | Next

✨ Feel free to navigate forward to Finale Part 1, but if you're interested, there are two bonus chapters that come between 49 and 50:

💚 Box in Your Heart (Colette and Will)

🍂 Are You Nobody, Too? (Bree and Henry)

Word count: 3562 || Approx reading time: 15 mins

Connected Far Beyond a Miracle

Teaser: “What are you doing out here?” I demand when I make my way outside. It’s freezing, the wind whistling through the bare branches and nearly skinning me alive. “Do you want someone to see you? Recognize you?”

Jamie

I nearly lose it when I look around one day and Will is nowhere to be seen, and when I ask Colette if she’s seen him, she hasn’t, and then when I ask Geoff where the fuck he is, he can’t tell me, and when I check with Colette’s giggly stepsister who always somehow seems to know what Will is up to, she doesn’t know.

“Someone please tell me he didn’t fuck off without telling anyone.” The pain in my side is actually starting to fade—some days it doesn’t even hurt at all anymore—but now that it’s more or less gone, I’ve got that familiar why-is-my-brother-like-this headache back in its usual, throbbing spot in my temple.

“He went outside.”

I blink. I didn’t even bother asking Allan. Will still avoids him like the plague.

“What do you mean, went outside?” Colette pales. “What if someone—”

“He’s by the window. In the back.”

For fuck’s sake. Doesn’t Will realize that if the wrong person spots him, he’ll have the constables crawling all over Colette’s family’s house? “Why didn’t you stop him?”

Allan is nice, and he’s good at what he does, but he doesn’t have much of a fucking backbone.

“Because I didn’t feel like getting punched in the face.”

I rest my case.

Walking is mostly easy at this point, but standing up and sitting down still send a twinge bolting through me if I do it too fast. Still. I’d rather take ten seconds of pain than see Will in chains again.

“What are you doing out here?” I demand when I make my way outside. It’s freezing, the wind whistling through the bare branches and nearly skinning me alive. “Do you want someone to see you? Recognize you?”

“It’s the back of the house, Jamie. No one’s going to see me.”

“Are you willing to take that bet?”

“Yes.”

If I didn’t think it would make him flinch away from me like I was trying to throttle him—which, to be fair, I do want to do that, some days—I’d grab his arm and drag him back into the house. “Why are you out here?”

“I’ve been inside. For…” He stops. Clenches his jaw. Glares into the stormy-grey sky. “I’m losing my mind. I needed air.”

Geoff, who followed me back here, nudges my side. His meaning is clear: Sounds like someone I know.

“Shut up,” I say to him.

Will glances at me, scowling and ready to fight.

“Not you.” I jerk my head at Geoff. “Him.”

Leaning back against the wall, crossing his arms and planting his feet like a five-year-old, Will says, “Just go back inside. I’ll be in soon.”

“You’re not even wearing a coat.”

“It’s not that cold.”

“Will, get your ass back in the house.”

“No.”

What the fuck am I supposed to do, short of dragging him back by the hair? Can’t even do that, since Colette cut it all off. “Will, please.”

“No.”

Turning to Geoff, I give him a look to say, Please help. It’s not likely he can do anything, either, but Will sometimes listens to him when he won’t listen to me. And at least Geoff can wrestle him back inside if needed.

With a shrug, though, Geoff raises his hands in the air. “No one else is around.”

Great. He’s taking Will’s side. When I look back at my brother, he still looks pissed off, but there’s a smugness to it now.

You’re acting like a child, I want to say. I hold my tongue.

“Go back inside,” he repeats. “I’m not going to do anything stupid. Or are you all still afraid to leave me alone for too long?”

Fuck. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.”

There was a part of me that thought that once we had Will back, everything would settle. Perhaps not exactly go back to the way it was, but at least feel closer to normal.

I could not have been more wrong.

Nothing about this has been straightforward. Me, I have pain one day and none the next. Maybe that shouldn’t be too surprising. But Will… He’s laughing and goofy one moment and ready to stab a fork through Allan’s hand an hour later. He’s fine, and then he’s lost in a forest of thoughts so murky I wonder if he will be able to find his way out of it.

Breathe, Jamie.  Just breathe. In and out.

“Tell me what’s on your mind,” I say to Will when I’m calm enough to actually say something nice.

The warmth of Geoff next to me pulls away. I start counting the seconds until he reappears with a coat and scarf in hand.

“Nothing,” Will says, his eyes fixed on something in the distance. When I follow his gaze, I don’t see anything worth staring at for hours. Just the promise of snow in the clouds. A brilliant red bird flitting from branch to branch.

“You’re the worst liar I’ve ever met,” I say. “What’s wrong?”

His jaw tightens. “I wish you’d all stop reminding me of that. I know. I fucking know.”

I was not expecting that to set him off. “All right. I’m sorry. I…”

“I tried,” he says. “I tried. To lie. To protect you. To protect…her.”

My headache intensifies. I have tried so fucking hard not to say anything that would bring him back to prison. Back to those weeks of torment.

All for nothing, apparently, because I’ve gone and done exactly that. “Will, I—”

“He knew, anyway,” he says, and I’m taken aback by the anger in his voice. “Somehow he fucking knew what to look for in their old arrest records, and I’ve been trying to figure it out, but no one… No one says anything. Even you. You got arrested and you never fucking told me and he had that old record and that’s how he knew your name, and I can’t believe you never said anything, Jamie, and that happened when Ma was still alive—”

“Will—”

“—And Bree told him we were brothers, but how did he know what name to look for? He already had it by the time I gave in, when I thought he was going to kill Bree, and—and—”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I confessed to Geoff, and only Geoff—told him about the letter I sent, the promise I made to turn myself in if Will walked free. The promise I reneged upon once we had Hatchett to bargain with instead.

“I’m sorry,” I say. I was nineteen, young and foolish, the day I met Geoff, the day I was arrested, the day the constables got my name—the day that would all these years later fuck up everything for all of us. “For not telling you. I shouldn’t have kept it a secret.”

“You didn’t trust me?”

“You were fourteen,” I say. “You were a kid. I didn’t want you getting ideas.”

“Fine. Whatever.”

I know I can’t keep the rest of it from him, that if I do, I’ll be tearing apart the already shaky foundation we’ve been trying to rebuild since we got here. “Hatchett knew what to look for because he had my initials. I sent him a message.”

Will jerks away from the wall to stand up straight. “What?”

“I said I’d turn myself in if they let you out.”

I stumble backwards into the brick, pain scraping into my back, when Will reaches out and shoves me. “What the fuck did you do that for?”

Fuck. He’s got tears in his eyes, and so do I.

“Because I didn’t want to watch you get hanged, you idiot!”

“But it’s fine for me to watch you get hanged?”

“It’s not the same. IA was my idea. It was never your responsibility.” Never Will’s sin to atone for.

His hands curl into fists, and I wonder if he’s going to hit me. Maybe he should. Maybe I deserve it.

Then Will relaxes his muscles and looks away.

“I’m so tired,” he says. “I’m so tired of being mad all the time. Of the memories. Of being sad. I don’t want to remember any of it. But then I don’t want to fucking forget it, either. And that pisses me off. It pisses me off so much. I should. I should want to forget it. Why…”

I open my mouth, but he keeps going.

“I have to just be here and stay stuck inside and keep thinking and thinking and remembering. Do you think anything happened to—to him? Do you think he can’t sleep at night? Fuck that. He just went back to work and, yeah, maybe he’s still pissed off and looking for us but he doesn’t have to deal with this shit, but I do, and it never fucking ends, does it, and I just want to not be mad for even just a few minutes, but if I forgot it all then I’d forget—”

He turns away completely, and I can only tell from the movement of his arm that he’s wiping tears from his face.

“It’s not fair,” he says, but I can’t tell if the words are really meant for me.

Geoff finally reappears, clutching my coat, and Will’s too. I pull mine on and wait for my brother to face me once more. Dimly, I’m aware of Geoff squeezing my hand before he steps away again.

“It’s all right that you’re mad,” I say. “You have every right to be.”

It’s a long time before Will responds. Eventually he turns back outwards, not exactly facing me, to lean against the wall again and stare out at the nothing that’s so captivated him. I manage to get him to shrug into his coat, but he doesn’t seem to fully recognize me or even really know what he’s doing.

“Did you know that you knew her, kind of?”

The question is sudden, and with no context, I have no idea what it even means. “What?”

“Bree. Her dad was that prick you worked for. Who kicked you all out.”

The memory sends a shiver down my spine. “Silas Cooper. I noticed they had the same name.”

“She’s the girl who ran out of the house. That was her.” Will draws a deep breath. “She remembered your name. For a little bit, I was so sure she knew who you were. She didn’t though. But when he knew your name, I thought—I thought maybe she—” He stops. Shakes his head. “She swore she didn’t.”

He seems calmer now; his breath isn’t quite so quick and ragged, and his eyes look less wild.

“It’s funny,” he says. “Well, not funny. Weird. Fucked up, maybe.”

“I can’t read your mind, Will. What are you talking about?”

He picks at his nails. Avoids my gaze. “Bree. All the ways our paths crossed. More than once. She was the girl who tried to help you when she was a kid. And I was there the day Colette found her and dropped the coin. And she was…the girl from that night.” Will speaks quickly, something like guilt flashing across his face. “The snowstorm. You remember.”

“Oh. Yeah. She told me.”

“She did?”

“Yeah.”

Another long pause, and I brace myself for another abrupt subject change that he’s going to expect me to follow. Instead, he continues, “And then she got arrested right after me. And Hatchett picked on her when he had me wh…”

Even though he doesn’t finish the sentence, I understand what he’s referring to when he says, “He made her count.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“And what about all of that?”

He swallows hard, and his face goes red—nothing, I suspect, to do with the biting wind. “Why did we keep meeting like that? And then how could she just leave without saying goodbye?”

God, the look on his face. We’ve both been heartbroken before, more than once. And I know this look.

“I almost get it,” he says. “If she’d stayed… You know, when she looked at me, she’d be reminded of him, right? Of Hatchett. Of jail. And I… I wouldn’t want that. Right? They hurt her, too. Not just me. So I get it. I guess.”

God, if we were still kids, if he were still little, I’d pull him into a hug whether he liked it or not. Now I can only stand there and watch him stumble over his words, trying so desperately to say what he means.

“Life kept bringing us together. Like we were supposed to meet. To know each other. You know? Like it meant something. But then she fucked off. She fucked off, and she didn’t even say goodbye.” He turns his head away. “I guess it didn’t mean anything. And I’m just a fucking idiot. Like I always have been.”

“You’re not an idiot, Will.”

“Yes, I am.”

Fuck it. He’s my brother. He’s hurting.

“You’re not,” I repeat. “You went through hell. Hell. And you’re here. Still here. You survived. That makes you strong as fuck. Not an idiot.”

He’s my brother and he’s hurting and for the first time, he doesn’t flinch away when I get close. Pull him into a hug. He stiffens, though, and for a moment I wonder if he’s going to bolt. But he relaxes after a few seconds. And he doesn’t run.

Still, though, he doesn’t say anything, and I fear he’s lost again. “Do you want the rest of the story?”

“Hmm?” It’s like he’s hearing my words from far away. Slowly, he tugs out of my grip, and I let him go. “Which story?”

“What happened after Geoff and I met. In…” I cringe. “In jail.”

“I know how that story ends.” He sounds so tired. “You’re in love and you’re going to live happily ever after.”

“Don’t be a smartass about it. You don’t know the whole story.” I watch his face for surprise, but there’s still distance there. “I only knew his name after that day, but nothing else. Didn’t know where to find him.”

I wandered around town for two weeks, looking for work, yes, but that wasn’t all I was searching for.

“It was by chance, I guess, kind of, that we met again. But I was trying my damnedest to find him.” I hovered around that hideous tavern almost every day, and in the end, I bumped into him down the street from our home.

“What the fuck?” I remember yelping. “What are you doing here?” For some reason, I felt hot. For some reason, I looked up and down the street, wondering if Ma or Will could see us. For some reason, even though my family was falling apart for the second time, I felt happy.

I tell my brother how we saw each other every day that summer. How, more than once, Geoff and I had to dodge Will and his friends spinning through the streets so he wouldn’t spot us and ask questions I knew I was not ready to answer.

I skip the details of the first time our hands brushed, or the first time his hand clasped mine. I do not mention the first time we kissed, or the first time I ran my fingers down the smooth dark skin of his bare chest—

“Jamie? Was there more, or what?”

Whoops. Maybe Will’s not the only one who’s a little lost.

“And then Ma got worse,” I say softly. These memories—in the deepest, darkest, murkiest ravine of that forest of the past—these are ones on which I don’t wish to linger. “And it just…stopped. We didn’t…” God, even remembering this is painful. “We didn’t see each other again. For years.”

Will is quiet, and his eyes are back on the sky, but I can tell he’s listening.

“And then one day my brother poached on someone else’s territory, picking pockets where he shouldn’t have been,” I say, and the corners of his mouth tip upward, “and this terrifying girl with curly hair and the biggest fucking guy I’ve ever seen were about to cut him to shreds—”

“Don’t be an ass,” he says. “She wasn’t going to cut me to—”

“Oh, yes I was.”

We both jump at the sound of Colette’s voice. She’s out here now, and Geoff, too. Snow, soft and white and gentle, is starting to fall. I watch the snowflakes sparkle against Geoff’s dark hair for precious moments before they melt, and he meets my eyes, smiling. How’d you end up on this story? he seems to ask.

“And wasn’t that big guy with her,” I say, “the same goddamn asshole who broke me out of jail years before?”

Geoff grins and looks away.

“If people are meant to find each other,” I tell Will, “then they just do.”

I can see him shivering, but my stubborn ass of a brother isn’t going to be the one to suggest going inside. “I’m glad you found each other,” he says.

“Me too.”

Geoff and Colette move in unison: he to stand next to me, and she to grab Will’s hands, which are starting to turn red from the cold. “So. Are you ready to come inside and get warm yet? Geoff made tea.”

“I suppose.”

“He supposes,” she says with a roll of her eyes. “Well, I suppose that Verie also baked a sponge cake and wants everyone to have a taste and shower her with praise.”

I swear I see Will’s eyes light up. Slightly—but it counts.

“Come on,” she says to him, and a sense of peace washes over me when Will finally agrees to go back inside, where it’s warm. Where it’s safe.

Geoff holds me back, gripping my arm with that firm yet gentle grasp when I try to follow.

“Just one,” he says. The snowflakes are still fat and lazy, drifting slowly like sugary fragments of stars. They cling to him now, no longer melting right away.

His kiss—god, his kiss. The sweetest and most perfect gift that, for a time, I thought I’d never enjoy again.

“I love you.” Words I don’t say enough. To him. To Will. To anyone.

“I love you, too.”

In the kitchen, Verity is fussing over her sponge cake, glancing over at Will through her lashes. Colette looks annoyed, and when Will’s not looking, I see her step on her sister’s foot.

“Stop making a fool of yourself,” she hisses. Verity just rolls her eyes.

Of course, Will doesn’t notice. He’s sunk his hand into his pocket, and his gaze is distant again. When I draw his attention, though, he comes back right away.

“You all right?”

He nods.

At that moment, Allan walks in, and I wince, certain that the peace I’ve just managed to chase down is going to be gone the second Will opens his mouth.

“So.” Will fixes Allan with his best tough stare, which wouldn’t cow any of us but makes the doctor shrink a little. I shoot a glance at Geoff, silently telling him to be ready to hold my brother back if needed. “Are you the reason they were hiding all the sharp stuff from me?”

Allan frowns. “What?”

“Did you…”

“Did I what?”

Will glances at me. “Did you tell them,” he says finally. “What I asked you to do.” So flat it’s barely a question. So quiet and ominous it makes me shiver.

Allan seems to catch Will’s meaning. “I didn’t breach your privacy in any way, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Impatiently, redness creeping into his face, Will says, “I don’t know what the fuck breach means.”

“I didn’t repeat any conversations we had while you were my patient. Because that would be unethical.”

For a moment, silence.

And then—

“Thanks.”

Allan blinks, nods, and mumbles an acknowledgement, and Will doesn’t say anything else.

“Why does everyone look so sad?” Verity asks. “Get yourselves to the table and enjoy my delicious, perfect cake.”

When the cake is gone from our plates and we’re all sipping tea, with Verity and Colette in quiet conversation, Geoff drawing soft circles on the back of my hand, and Allan reading a newspaper, I notice that Will is reading, too.

It isn’t a book or a newspaper in his hand, though, but a piece of paper, creased to all hell. Haphazard fold lines all over it. I don’t have to ask what it is.

As if he can feel my stare, he looks up. He must be able to read me as well as Geoff can, because he hesitates, then heaves a sigh and hands me the letter.

Will, it says, Thank you for saving my life, and for your forgiveness, even if I don’t know if I deserve either. Get well. Stay safe. And please, please, please be happy. I promise I will never forget you. Bree.

“She’ll be all right,” I tell him, clearing my throat and handing the letter back. “I’ve got a feeling.”

Though it seems like he wants to laugh, he doesn’t. “You’re probably right. She’s too fucking stubborn to die.”

“Language,” Verity admonishes from across the table, and Will grins at her.

With his breath tickling my ear, Geoff whispers, “He’ll be all right, too.”

Suddenly, my heart feels more full than it did before. “Promise?” I whisper back.

“Promise.”

Previous | Masterlist | Next

✨ Feel free to navigate forward to Finale Part 1, but if you're interested, there are two bonus chapters that come between 49 and 50:

💚 Box in Your Heart (Colette and Will)

🍂 Are You Nobody, Too? (Bree and Henry)

Stay close, can you feel the love between the two of us? / Let go, we can disappear inside the universe

If you look inside / Read between the lines / Everything is gradual / When you see the signs / The comets all collide / Everything is magical

We're interstellar hearts / Whenever we're together / Can't resist your gravity / It took a million miles to find you / Stars to fly through / Spark of perfect chemistry / This is our future / We're meant to find it / We will go further / 'Cause we're just interstellar hearts / In cosmic time / We shine

I don't understand the elements, the chemicals / But we both know we're connected far beyond a miracle / When you look inside / When you see the signs / Everything collides

I never knew that I could fall so hard, oh

Insterstellar Hearts - Awake or Sleeping

Next time on The Prince of Thieves:

Tagging: @starlit-hopes-and-dreams, @gala1981, @kixngiggles, @whither-wander-whump 💕

[dcwnthercbbithcle]

Mapplethorpe accidentally killing his best friend and girlfriend because he didn't feed into his Vampirism, so it took literal control over his mind and MADE him feed it.

Manipulating his fear and his need for comfort in moment of starvation and weakness. Taking advantage of his gut instinct to seek Doe out, because Doe's composed and clever and always seems to have the way to comfort him and making things better. Mape's Vampirism using this line of thought to make him hunt her down, abduct her and kill her by completely altering his mind to ensure he doesn't struggle and starve himself any further. Painting this picture in the warped, deluded scape of his mind clouded by his pain that Mape's just run to her. Flew off with her, scared and upset, but when they touch down in the bluff, she calms him down, she manages to make the pain go away and talk him down out of his panic some other way. Until he finally is given back control of his senses and mind and is left in the explosive aftermath of his actions. Leading to Doe's resurrection as we all know.

And Mapplethorpe thinking that after everything, after bringing her back the trauma of that event is over...

until Doe's adoptive family, but especially her younger sister and her girlfriend mobilize with a plan of attack and decide they are gonna wear him down, either by just annoying him into submission or by straight up kidnapping him until he fesses up where Doe went.

Cause Zoe KNOWS, she KNOWS Mapplethorpe knows something. Doe and him were attached at the hip for months before she disappeared! She was dragging the slump that was him around, and damn if he didn't seem happy about it. But he didn't take part in a single search, he didn't seem torn up, he didn't come near her folks home, he never went to the vigil, he stopped frequenting the boardwalk as much, AND he started to avoid her siblings and parents like they had the plague. It seems, to Zoe at least, like a real 'Jenny Was a Friend of Mine' situation. But Zoe has no idea how he places into the 'strange thing that came out of the sky like a missile and grabbed her' equation, but she KNOWS he's involved SOMEHOW.

And Reese is just so so in love with Zoe that she's picking up the baton in the fight for finding what happened to Doe without question. Her girlfriend mourning and obviously horrifically traumatized by whatever happened to her sister? Reese is gonna find whatever happened to her or drag the person responsible to her feet. Lesbian love is just like that! Reese is a lot chiller about it but like, she's approaching Mapplethorpe in the fakest good cop manner cause Reese is out here like 'accidents happen! let's say you and Doe were roughhousing near the cliffs and she slipped and fell, it happens! We just want to know cause they're really hurting' but she's also wearing like 20 wires and Mape knows she's trying to coax a 'confession' but he couldn't even explain what happened if he wanted to! (he doesn't)

[obislittleone]

Awakening

(A/n and warnings in series Masterlist)

Your knuckles were bleeding, and so was your nose. It dripped down thickly over your lip before he started wiping it away. The red that smeared onto the crumpled-up toilet paper from the nearest cruddy stall was like a burst of color in the florescent lit, gray-looking bathroom.

Sitting on this counter in the boys restroom while your dearest friend did his best to clean your mild wounds felt sort of patronizing, if you were being completely honest. You hadn’t said a word since the fight, which was probably for the best, because you didn’t feel like justifying your reasoning to him at the moment. You got angry, but you weren’t really sure what over. There were a multitude of things plaguing your brain and turning you anxious, but to put a finger on the exact one of them that caused you to assault a petty, bitch-ass teenage boy in the cafeteria? You couldn’t even begin to narrow it down.

“Ow,” you muttered, feeling like a wimpy child being taken care of by their mommy after falling down. To be completely fair, the pressure he applied was more than you were expecting, and he wasn’t giving any room for it to loosen up.

“The bleeding won’t stop unless you hold it,” he tried to reason with you, but you weren’t having it. “Can you just sit still?” His annoyed tone had only now begun to build, what with him trying to help you, and you making it difficult for him. You tilted your head away, unwilling to believe his method of what seemed to be madness could ever work.

You immediately regretted your decision, when the jerking of your head caused the burst blood vessel to pour out more. You licked your lips as a last effort to save your bleach-wash jeans from getting stained. The metallic taste in your mouth was not one you found to be fond, but it worked, even if only for a few seconds. You had to reach your hands up to catch the drops of blood from getting to your clothes, and the boy in front of you scoffed at your surprised nature that you were in fact still bleeding, though you resisted his instructions on how to make it stop.

“Give it,” you demanded, reaching for the mashed up toilet paper, which had already two red streaks along the sides. You tried your best to do it yourself, but finding that you weren’t putting enough pressure, the blood just kept leaking through the thin and papery material.

“Stubborn ass,” he laughed once at your attempts before taking over again, pressing firmly to actually stop the red from gushing out of your nose any longer. You decided it best to just let him take it from there, finishing it off to where he could finally pull back the bloody toilet paper, and you wouldn’t have to risk it all for your jeans. It was now sore, because admittedly, getting punched in the face hurt less than the aftermath of trying to stop the bleeding.

“He had it coming, y’know,” you began, watching as he examined your hands, careful to avoid pressing too hand on the bruising and bloody areas. Funny how he didn’t share the same sentiment with your nose.

“Alright, let’s hear it.”

He knew you never started fights, not physical ones at least. After watching the kid get dragged out of the cafeteria and to the nurses office while you stood screaming and flipping him off, he figured he’d stumbled into the lunchroom too late on the wrong day. He would have loved to see you hand that kid’s ass to him, because that kid in particular had been a bully around not only the school, but the entire town for years now.

“I was minding my own damn business, just walking to my table, as one does,” you set yourself as the innocent party, of course, and he had no reason to believe you weren’t, though it was a bit funny to hear the way you played the story out. “Then this horse-shit village idiot decides he’s gonna put a move on me.”

“Oh boy-“

“Smacked my ass in front of the entire room,” you were fuming, and though the boy before you was trying to be gentle with your injured hands, you didn’t seem to care at all, balling them into fists and letting them shake with the tension of your anger. Clearly you had the mind to hit this kid again. “I pulled him out of his seat and started quietly and calmly discussing with him the dangers he was facing, and he tried to do it again. At that point he was asking for it.”

“So you hit first?” He came to his own conclusion, and you huffed at him, as if feeling like he was on opposing sides, though he was literally the one to pull you into the restroom to hide as soon as he got word you were going to be summoned by the principle. Even now, he was doing his best to take care of you, but you simply did not care.

“That’s not the point,” you complained, your anger long since unbridled an now aiming at anyone you deemed necessary to receive it. “He shouldn’t have hit back at all, or even smacked my ass in the first place.”

His smirk told you he agreed, and that he had only been teasing you before. He knew you were purely acting out of payback to the unwashed miscreant that had assaulted you first. Knowing you, the act itself didn’t bother you as much as the person who did it. You both have hated Bryan since the day he entered your grade. He was glad someone finally gave him a good kick in his balls. Especially since that someone was you. You were most deserving, he would say.

“You’re making fun of me,” you raised a brow, tilting your head and pulling your hands away from him. He looked at you with a thin smile, a look worn on his face that confirmed your suspicions.

“Never.”

He stood back and let you hop off the counter, though neither of you made any move to leave the safe confines of the gross school restroom. It smelled worse than the shit farm about three miles from your house, in which you caught whiff of every day while riding your bike to school. You’d never been in the boys restroom before, but you originally thought it couldn’t be too different from the girls. But no, it was dialed to eleven, actually. It must have been really bad, considering your nose might be broken and you can still drown in the odor.

You rocked awkwardly back and forth on your heels, trying to think of something else to say, unsure if the interaction was over yet. He didn’t seem to think so, and his thought process had been the same as yours, finding the words quicker than you ever did.

“Can I ask you a question?”

You seemed surprised that either of you finally gained the audacity to fill the silence, but nodded and responded anyways.

“Shoot.”

The gears in his head were turning, almost as if he’d not even conjured said ‘question’ yet. You waited patiently, your eyes telling him to hurry it along before he finally huffed out a sigh and shook his head. Was he second guessing himself?

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” he started, leaning against the frame of the stall behind him. He was trying to seem casual about this, though for the life of him, didn’t know why. “Did you start the fight to get your dad’s attention?”

Ouch.

He knew about the deeply repressed daddy issues, and how could he not? Your whole friendship originally was started to piss off your dad, though being a real and meaningful relationship to you now, Eddie was positive you still had those motives occasionally.

“Why would I want his attention?” You snapped at him, and hi expression flinched a little. You regretted it, of course, and you couldn’t blame him. He’d just witnessed the butt end of a fight in which you demolished a kid that was bigger than you. Not by a ton, but still. You weren’t the strongest girl by any means, but when fueled by anger, mountains could possibly be moved. “That piece of shit has never done anything for me to want his attention.”

“I’m not saying you do,” he countered, raising his hands in surrender. He would have never asked if it meant you’d get this angry with him. “It was a dumb question, I’m sorry.”

The bigger man. He always was, the boy who could admit he was in the wrong and apologize for it. You’d like to see half the guys in your school try and own up to all the shit they’ve done, mush less express they’re contrition. Eddie was nothing if not a guy with the balls to own up. True bravery if you ever saw it.

“It’s fine, I know why you ask..” You relaxed almost immediately, and he saw the tense stress fall from your shoulders the exact moment you let it go. You weren’t really mad at him, he knew that. You were probably just reeling back down from the great cafeteria escapade.

“You wanna skip fourth period?” He wondered if this half assed plan was a good one or a bad one, considering you were probably wanted for the murder of Bryan Andrews dignity by all school authority, including the worst of them all, Principle Higgins. “We can go for a drive.”

You smirked, quite mischievously he might add, before tilting your head from side to side, as if weighing the pros and cons. You could care less about your education from this point, as you were already doing good with your grades, at least for a cheater. Morally you knew it was bad, but you didn’t see the point in learning all this pointless information that would absolutely never help you in life.

“How much smoke you got on you?” You teased, and he just rolled his eyes. Of course. You didn’t even smoke unless you were with him, but he found it funny anyways that you seemed to be hooked on the stuff whenever he was around.

“Enough,” he admitted, brushing your shoulder playfully as he walked passed and to the door. Admittedly, you both would have to be careful to make it to the exit without being seen. If you got caught, it would probably be detention for a week for you, and him accompanying the assigned seat beside yours for at least only the day. If he had to, he’d make up some trouble to fill the week’s time, but only if you couldn’t get out of it.

“Sounds like a full afternoon, then.”

It had been a memory, from longer ago than it seems, now… How it can be so fresh in his mind after years, he’d no clue. The fact that such a forgotten time came to his head, it was strange, almost as if his mind was trying to tell him something.

Get up…

The awakening was cold, and dark… like the opposite of birth.

It felt as though every muscle in his body had been reconstructed inside him and glued back together with the nastiest substances known to man. It felt sickening, at first. The feeling that he was alive, but not really there. His mind was twisting, and branching onto thoughts that he couldn’t bring to completion. He struggled to remember where he was, or how how got here… how he died.

Get up.

The repeat of the words got his attention this time, for the voice in his head was not his own, and had he not been so unknowingly relaxed about all of this, the dark and eerie tone would have scared him to death. He heard the command echo a few times, before it sunk in. He couldn’t refuse the instruction.

Stand.

And again, he did. His legs were at first a bit wobbly beneath him, and as he came to balance, they felt completely numb, yet strong at the same time. All of his muscles were like stone, cold and without feeling, yet sturdy and unbreakable. How had this happened to him? He felt like he could break a tree log in half with his bare hands…

My solider…

He looked around him, trying to find the voice calling out, but there was nothing for miles, just the words in his head that he wasn’t thinking himself. Who was addressing him as such? He wasn’t a soldier, he was just a boy.

Standing and looking around, he began to feel weak, but not in the traditional sense. He felt weak like he’d just woken up after a long sleep, and his body hadn’t been given proper sustenance to function. He was hungry… or at least he thought he was. There was no rumbling of his empty stomach, or craving of food at even the thought of it. He could think of the most delicious food he’d ever tasted, but at this second, though very hungry for something, it would not appeal to him.

You seek prey.

What did that even mean? This uncontrollable voice in his head seemed to want to help him, seemed to be an ally, but recalling the echos in his mind only made him confused, and strangely more disoriented than he had been in this eerie place. The word prey stuck out all of a sudden. Why did his mouth begin to water when it coursed through his mind? Prey and Predator, mostly associated with animals, with great beasts and innocent creatures, but not with humans. The thought of being a predator, something who hunts and devours, it was almost sickening for a split second… but then something snapped.

His tongue darted out of his mouth to lick his lips, an old habit that refused to die hard, even after this strange transformation. He caught onto a sharp tooth that hadn’t been there before. He always had sharper canines than most people, but this was unusual even for him. There was a matching tooth on the other side, and he momentarily had to double back and check again, just to make sure he wasn’t going crazy… he already felt insane as it were, in this place, as he’d come to be, and with no explanation or memory of what happened.

You must feed, gain your strength.

Again the command, not giving friendly advice but rather an actual order to follow, and he felt as though he had no choice. His feet started to move under him without even thinking, no actual idea of where he was going. He cursed under his breath and stopped for a minute, focusing on a destination that could give him access to what he needed, whatever that was.

His eyes closed, his thought process was moving quickly, jumping from one thing to another. Am I hungry? Yes. For food? No. For something I’ve tasted before? Yes…. Wait-

“He was doing it wrong.”

You continued into the woods, huffing at your friend who was not only getting on your nerves by trailing behind, but by bringing up something you didn’t want to talk about anymore.

The day prior, there had been a party. Once of the famous loser jocks from Hawkins had planned it out weeks in advance, waiting for the most opportune time for when his parents would take their annual trip to the city for business, leaving the large home completely unattended. You were often not invited to said parties, no one from hellfire ever was. Outcasts with weird hobbies didn’t get invites to cool parties where teenagers would drink their nights away and grind against each other to annoying, pop-y music. In your opinion, you were better off not having to listen to the high-school queen bees slurring the words of Material Girl. At least, you always told yourself that when you’d find yourself missing out on the regular teen experience. This party was like any other, except for one factor. Eddie. He had started dealing secretly around town for a few months, now, and it was well known to anyone who wanted a good hook-up that he was the man to go to. He was the only one you knew that got an invite. You told yourself you couldn’t care less, but he saw how it weighed on you, your want to be accepted and treated as part of society. You craved to feel normal, to be amongst people who might say that you were. You were not a fan of being different, as much as your friends convinced you it was a good thing, you weren’t so sure. For the most part, you were just tired of the bullying. Eddie couldn’t help himself, he gave in and took not only you, but Gareth to the party.

“There’s no wrong way of doing it, Eds,” you responded with a roll of your eyes, although he couldn’t see it with your back facing him at least ten feet ahead on the woodland trail.

Shotgunning, that’s what this conversation was about, or at least leading up to. Gareth lit up a smoke last night in the corner of the house’s backyard, not really feeling the party atmosphere anymore. You couldn’t say you blamed him, you weren’t there to drink, and you didn’t exactly like the company of intoxicated and horny football players. You sat down next to him, finding solace in a close friend that understood not knowing what to do in a place like this. Being an outcast may have been a choice for some people, like Eddie, who thrived on his difference from society, but for people like you and Gareth, it was never like that. If you both could, you would be out there with everyone else, and you wanted to be. Your unpopularity was not for a lack of trying, but simply the facts of: the status quo would never change, and you didn’t fit into what others saw as desirable to their cliques. You didn’t thrive on being the kids with weird hobbies that played in a metal band, you just accepted that it was who you had to be, because you couldn’t be the cheerleaders, or the athletes. You and Gareth talked a while in the corner while waiting for Eddie, and eventually you were craving a smoke, too. You didn’t have one on you, much to your dismay, and Gareth was reaching the end of his only one, so he suggested sharing the last of the smoke via shotgunning. You knew what it was, but had never done it before.

“There is, actually, you just wouldn’t know,” he finally closed the gaping distance between you both, finally coming to walk beside you instead of ten-some feet behind. To be fair, you walked faster when you were perturbed.

He had seen it last night, across the yard. The way Gareth cupped his hands together, making a tunnel for you to breath the smoke in from the other end while he exhaled it. Eddie thought the same thing thing that he did, now. The kid was too chicken to do it right, and he knew why.

“And you do?”

“Yes, I do,” he was sure you weren’t annoyed with him, because if you really and truthfully were, you would have ended the conversation when it started. He was aware that you were just arguing with him now for the sake of it, not actually caring who won in the end, but fortunately for him, he had evidence to prove he was the faultless party. “I can show you, unless you’re so sure you’re right.”

You stopped in your tracks, heaving a deep sigh and turning to him with a glare. He knew it was playful, and his smirk as he tilted his head only fueled it to grow. You would give into him, mainly because you were tired of walking any further behind your property and could use the time to sit and smoke. Maybe it would calm you down a little.

“By all means, show me.”

It was said playfully, and he smiled genuinely as he tugged on your wrist to follow him. You weren’t sure where he was taking you exactly, as you both were still about a mile out from your cabin in the woods. He settled for a fallen tree, rested as a bark-less log on the ground, though it wouldn’t have been his first choice. He made you sit down, and pulled a cigarette from his vest pocket, before realizing he didn’t have a lighter. You saw him searching himself frantically, and laughed, pulling out your own and holding it up to him in a taunting manner. He rolled his eyes, sticking the smoke in his mouth an waiting for you to light him up.

You flicked the lighter a few times, and realized there was a small bump on the spark wheel. Adjusting your grip, you gave it one final spin, getting the flame to work, but at the cost of your poor thumb. You ignored the pain momentarily, holding the lighter to the cigarette enough for it to catch before flipping your lighter closed and shifting it to the other hand. You inspected the damage on your finger and found a little cut, no bigger than a half inch slit through the skin. Cuts on fingers tended to hurt the worst for all the tiny nerve endings, which is why even though it was a minuscule and harmless wound, you were about to be very dramatic about it.

“I got cut a little,” you made your friend see it too, by holding it up while the blood started dripping down the side. There was barely anything there, and it didn’t need any immediate attention, maybe just a bandaid later…

“Lemme see,” he took your hand, spinning it around in a somewhat uncomfortable twist while furrowing his brows about it. It probably hurt a lot, but it would be fine. He took the cigarette out of his mouth for a minute, and brought your hand back to him, quickly licking the wound along with the small drop of blood that was there. You shot him a weird look as he let you hand go, and started to smoke again. “Calm down, it helps it not to hurt like a bitch, okay?”

He was right, it did seem to sooth the slit skin a little bit.

“You could have just told me to do it, dumbass,” you rolled your eyes and tried to grab the cigarette from his hands, only for it to be snatched away while he held his hand up in defense.

“Nope, gotta show you, remember?”

You let out a noise of loud exasperation, and he only chucked in response to your utter annoyance.

“You know how this works, I breath out, you breath in,” he gestured between you both as he spoke, and you nodded impatiently before he took a long drag of smoke.

He brought his finger and thumb to rest on your chin, pulling your face so close to his that your noses were brushing against each other. This was definitely not like what you did with Gareth last night. Your mouth was still nearly closed, partly from shock of being in such tight proximity, and partly from nearly forgetting what you were supposed to do for a moment. His finger trailed up your chin, right under your lip to help you relax your jaw, mouth opening enough that he could breath the smoke out. You inhaled it just as you were told to, and man… it was heavier, it was warmer, if that was even possible, and it sent shivers down your spine. Maybe that was still just the closeness, but you never remembered smoke doing that to you before.

You didn’t even realize until you opened them that your eyes had closed at some point, reeling in the darkness behind them while your mind run rampant with thoughts about this very small yet seemingly drastic experience. You could almost kiss him, he was so close. It wouldn’t be the first time, as he’d been the first one to ever kiss you years ago during a game of spin the bottle in middle school.

“You okay?” Eddie backed up, not sure of why you remained so silent. You couldn’t keep your mouth shut for more than ten seconds most of the time, so now that you’d been rendered speechless, he worried for your well being.

You snapped back to reality once you realized he’d backed up enough to really see you. You were still not able to properly form a coherent sentence yet, your mind still in shambles, but you shook it all off and nodded to keep him from going crazy on you.

“You seem a little out of it, you sure?”

This time you had gathered yourself enough to give a solid reply, and hopefully it would be enough to keep him off your back. You appreciated his concern, but you were unsure of what this feeling was that made you act this way, and since he was usually able to read you well, you didn’t really want him to find out what was going on before you did.

“I’m fine,” you spoke evenly and confidently, and he shrugged after, taking another drag before turning to you.

“You wanna try again?”

No, you did not. You wanted to take a few steps back, actually, to get further away from the situation and assess your thoughts and actions and how he was making you feel. Why was this happening? This wasn’t supposed to be happening.

“I’m good, but I’ll wait for you,” you told him, nodding to his cigarette, hanging loosely from his lips. He smiled, and damn, you realized you’d been staring at his mouth this whole time. You’d been looking at his lips and in the back of your mind you were remembering the time he’d kissed you before.

You kept your eyes firmly planted, since he didn’t seem to notice, and if he did, he didn’t seem to care. You were content to do so, until you saw something so minuscule that it could easily be missed if you weren’t really looking.

There was a tiny smear of red on the corner of his mouth, a bit of drying blood from when he licked your cut.

He fell back a small bit, having come to realize his predicament. The memory from before, and this other one, now. It was telling him what he craved. It was telling him exactly what he needed…. But how could he possibly come to terms with that?

He kept walking, eyes wide open and a salivation that would not be easily cured. Who’s blood exactly? Whom could he drain the life from in that way without feeling like a monster? Physically, he already felt the part, but was he really ready to become this… thing? The hunger grew stronger, and he knew he would have to feed, but he was going to have to figure out the details at the last known minute.

He wished you would talk to him again, you would know what to do, you always did. Even if it was the wrong thing to do in the moment, you always had an idea, there was never a blank space in your mind open for debate. Why did you ever drift apart? Surely the wrongs of the past weren’t enough to make him stop talking to you, even if he felt you didn’t want to be bothered… he should have tried, right? What about his other friends, what would they do?

The boys in the band, Gareth, and Jeff…. The boys in hellfire, Dustin and Mike, and even the popular wannabe Lucas. Oh shit-

He stumbled back over himself, remembering everything that lead up to this moment. The curse of Vecna, the way he’d been blamed for murder, the fight to stop the madness… his death.

He died, he should be dead right now.

He couldn’t think straight anymore. One moment he realizes he’s hungry for human blood, the next moment he realizes why… it’s because he’s dead, and something has consumed him to be conscious enough to think, and breath, and walk. He was an unholy creature, something of an animal that couldn’t be considered human if he tried.

His head was still spinning, and he didn’t know which tangent to follow after first, but the salivation in his mouth did not waver, and the weakness on his transformed body was also felt in his mind.

His trailer, in front of his eyes but not in the way he remembers it. Though the old home was beat down and worse for wear, he’d be grateful for it any day in comparison to the hell-ish version that stood in its place. The metal flanks screwed into the outside were a reminder. The bats, those damn bats… no where in sight anymore, but oh how their bite still stung. Did they turn him into this? Surely they had some sort of venom that could have caused this… change.

He shook off the eerie feeling about entering the home, and went straight for the door, as forward as it seemed. He didn’t think twice as he stood in the main room, often much more cozy and far less nasty than what surrounded him. Looking up, though, the gate in the ceiling gave sight of the comforts he missed. It was all within arms reach, and some animalistic instinct he had lead him to do the unthinkable. He jumped straight through the ceiling, no hesitation. The gravity’s pull on the other side should have made it difficult for him to land properly, and would have been dangerous without the stained mattress to catch his fall, but there he stood, squatting half-way as he gained his bearings. He should most definitely not have been able to do that.

Everything seemed normal other than the foggy haze around the place, leaking in from the gate and causing some mysterious air particles to circle around him.

He seemed almost distracted from his main goal, but then he smelled it.

Someone in the trailer park was bleeding, and not too far away. He felt like a shark, being instantly attracted towards the direction it came from. His head went into a haze, and he started to lose control, unknowing of how or why it was happening so fast. He could see what he was doing, he understood the actions coherently, but it wasn’t him making the decisions. His body was being lurched on by some unknown force, begging him to feed. He was in the middle of the park within seconds, and latched onto the arm of some poor man who hadn’t made it into his home before the monster struck. The man tried to cry out in pain, but something kept him from doing so. He’d lost so much blood he passed out, going limp on the ground while Eddie continued to suck him dry. The taste of his blood wasn’t anything special, not that he could tell the difference, yet… but the way he’d been able to tell that the man was already bleeding-

Blood had a smell, he remembered.

Tuesday nights at the Hideout. A weekly ritual in which Hawkins' very own Corroded Coffin would play a set on the corner stage, normally reserved for karaoke on any other night. The crowds weren't ever huge, as no bar was usually packed out in a small town like Hawkins on a Tuesday night. This particular night however, there seemed to be a group from out of town. They all knew each other and were a little too happy to be there. The booze wasn’t anything special, and considering the weekly audience, the entertainment was just an average band of misfit kids trying their shot as music. It didn’t ever feel like that, though.

Drummers were designed for percussion, to keep a beat and to enhance the stability of a song by giving it an even measurement for other instruments to play by. Rock and roll turned drumming into a whole knew world, but further than that, metal gave drumming a sort of showmanship it never had before. It was not just the beat, or a way to keep time with other band members, it was the crashing and banging of a song that made it wild and rememberable. You could name about twelve songs alone that were quite literally known for the iconic drum fills and off-beats. Drumming to you was an art form, but also a stress reliever. It gave you an outlet to be both semi-violent and creative at the same time, because God knows you needed an outlet for both of those things.

You were always into the music, because it meant something to you, but of all nights, you were particularly invested on this one. There were about thirty more people crammed into the hideout than usual, and they all were celebration something, of which you were not sure. All you knew was that they were all into the music, which encouraged the band to play even louder and wild than usual.

It was like a real concert, with fans or something. You played off of the other instruments, going crazy with them while the crowd cheered on.

It was only by the end of your set that you realized how tired you were. You had dropped your sticks to the snare, not caring about the strange single hit echoed through the bar. The others were still reeling from the loud applause, yelling things into the crowd and being cheeky bastards, knowing that this was a rare occurrence and that they should enjoy it while it lasts. There were even some pretty girls in the crowd tonight, maybe one of the boys would get lucky.

You were practically panting now, and needed a drink far too badly. You weren’t as keen to be smooth over the ladies in the bar, so you strode past everyone, catching the bar tender’s attention before a short plea for a glass of water came out. The guy scoffed and slid it to you moments later, like he was already prepared. He’d been watching all night, and you looked like you could use more than just a glass of water, but alas you couldn’t drink on the Tuesday night, as you were particularly famous for your monstrous hangovers. Normally on a night like this, where there was an actual crowd and something to celebrate, you’d be gun ho to say ‘screw it’ and deal with the consequences later, but given that you were trying to graduate this year, it would be wise to stay sober long enough to even get home.

You downed the glass at an impeccable speed, and turned back to face the stage, where your darling best friend was sweet talking a girl that would normally be considered ‘out of his league’. Of course tonight, he was a rockstar, so all bets were off, and he might be able to pull off what was most often impossible. She was apart of the out of town group, and had no idea the boy she was talking to held a certain reputation as the freak.

You watched on with curiosity, hoping that he’d at least get a phone number. He deserved it for all the effort. The poor guy had so much game, but not enough space to play. The tragedy of living in a small town, you supposed.

He caught your eye at some point, and you used your expression and movements to convey to him that he should make a better move, but unfortunately he had let his eyes remain with you for too long, and the girl noticed turning her head and following his line of sight. She gave you a once over, then turned back to him. A few moments later she left him and you sighed out in defeat. The poor guy hasn’t been on a date since junior year, and it seemed his streak of bad luck could only continue.

You felt bad, but knew there wasn’t much you could do to cheer him up. You walked over when you saw him start to dismantle the equipment on the small stage, and silently helped him to pack everything away. Your drums were always last, as they were simply just to be loaded in the back of the van.

“I can feel your pity stare,” he turned around, a slight chuckle in his voice as he caught your gaze of sympathy. “I’ll be fine y’know.”

“I know,” you said, wrapping an amp cord around your hand quickly and efficiently to help speed up the clean up process. The other boys had long since abandoned the idea of helping, as they were far too concerned with making themselves comfortable amongst the many tables of guests. “I was rooting for you.”

He smiled and shook his head, tossing you the other cords to pack in the case they arrived in.

“Maybe I’m cursed.”

“Maybe you just need to get out of this town. I bet you a hundred bucks as soon as we get that apartment in the city, the girls will be flocking like pigeons,” a strange analogy to be sure, but it was true. Clearing your name of a bad rep was hard in a town where word could travel from one side to the other by nightfall. A fresh start was all the kid ever needed.

“Yeah- well, we have to graduate first,” he started, but then scrunched his face up in an odd expression. “And why pigeons?”

“Because pigeons come around so much they become annoying.”

You thought you were being clever, but he was unamused, still a bit bitter from the interaction with the pretty blonde girl that first approached him. He would never blame you for this of course, but it was because he looked at you for too long that the girl seemed to think he was uninterested, resulting in her responding to him with a ‘save it, mop head’ before she strutted away. To be honest, mop head could be added to the ongoing list of insults he’s received from girls, as it was kind of funny. You would probably laugh about it with him later.

By the time everything was loaded up, you both went back inside to see how the others were holding up. Quite well, by the looks of them.

“If you wanna stay with them longer, I can find a ride home,” you gestured to the other band members, watching as they laughed and conversed with the patrons of the bar, clearly having the time of their lives and feeling like real rockstars for once.

“No, I’ll take you. It’s not safe to hitch-hike this late,” he pulled his keys from his pocket and flipped them over his finger, but you felt bad that he was so upset tonight.

“I’ll be fine,” you assured him, knowing you’d done it on several occasions without ever telling him about it. Looking back, this was the reason why. “Besides, the crowd’s never this big… you should enjoy it, go find another girl.”

He looked between you and the loud groups, seemingly torn between decisions as an outward response, but he already made up his mind. He just wanted to at least convince you he thought about it, to spare your feelings of course.

“I just wanna head out,” he admitted, waving over Gareth and mouthing to him that you both were leaving now. He would see them all again tomorrow, and likely they’d have some stories to tell. “I’m kinda over the crowd.”

The boy loved attention, thrived on it and the validation it often provided… He must be really bummed out if he was willing to be let down by one girl who, now that you saw her, was not even good enough for him. Maybe he was just sick of being rejected. You would be, too, especially if you’d been trying that hard for that long.

You followed him out of the bar and to the van in what you considered the Corroded Coffin designated parking spot. You didn’t say a word once you got in the van, patiently waiting for the driver to speak up, but he never did, just quietly humming the soft music on the radio. He was considerate not to turn it up loud, as he knew how tired you were, but getting closer to your side of town, you wished he would have. You were dead asleep, head against the window before you were even on the dirt road.

Eddie was not as displeased to leave the bar as he had seemed, and the reasoning was not the aforementioned one earlier, either. He rather liked the crowds attention while playing, he couldn’t deny he was a showman at heart, but in the heat of the after hours, he usually found himself lost without a reason for being there. It happened nearly everywhere he went. Parties, school functions, even the weird campfire romps hosted by the infamous horndogs of Hawkins. He always preferred something more personal, more like him.

He smiled subconsciously when he looked over and saw you asleep. Your head was against the window, yet the rattling of the bumpy ride didn’t seem to make you stir. He realized it would probably be easier to let you crash at his place rather than to try and wake you up enough that you could sneak back in through your bedroom window.

Once he slowed the van to a halt by the old run-down trailer, you began to gain a little consciousness, believing that maybe you were home, but you weren’t awake enough to even get out of the vehicle. Eddie chuckled as he got out and walked around to your side, opening the door and tilting his head as he saw your sleepy expression.

“C’mon sleeping beauty,” he turned around so his back was facing you, his arms out to the side at the ready for when you climbed onto him. “Hop on.”

You wasted no time in draping yourself on his back, wrapping your arms over his shoulders and letting your face rest against his frizzy hair. It was still a little damp from the sweat of earlier, but you didn’t care enough to lift your head. That was too much work. He adjusted your knees that hung over his hips as he kicking the door closed behind him, careful not to lose his balance. This was easier when you both were kids, he had a lower center of gravity and you hadn’t hit your growth spurt yet. You were nearly as tall as him after all those years.

He struggled massively to unlock the front door, but was relived when it was only the screen door that had been locked. The inside of the trailer smelled just like it always did, and since you recognized it as calming and familiar, you nearly fell asleep again while hoisted over the boy’s back in the middle of the living room.

“Don’t go dying on me now,” he jokingly resorted to jerking you around a little, only to make sure you didn’t collapse as soon as he put you down. He almost fell down once he reached his room, not realizing he caught your foot on the doorframe on the way in. You laughed at him a little, the effort of it slim as he slowly and carefully let you slide off his back and onto his bed.

He quickly went over to his dresser and grabbed a pair of shorts you’d let along with his worn out Mötley Crüe shirt which by now had practically become yours anyway. He threw them to land directly on your face, catching your attention before you could even think about closing your eyes again.

“I gotta take a shower, but I assume you’ll be out by the time I come back, so,” he ruffled your hair as messily as he could before giving you a gentle shove backwards into the bed. “Goodnight, little bear.”

You heard him leave a moment later, and it took everything you had in you to actually change your clothes before passing out. You didn’t even make an effort to pull the sheets or comforter over you, as it was too much of a hassle and you weren’t very cold anyways. Sleep was a wonderful thing, and you’d say you nearly had what one might consider a healthy relationship with sleep. It took you in no time, and honestly it had been waiting long enough.

-

Eddie woke up first, being that he got hungrier a lot earlier in the morning than you did, and it was usually a potent enough hunger that he would not be able to rest for it. He rubbed his eyes and ripped the sheets off from him, accidentally taking some of yours too. He was ready to push himself off the bed, but when he put his hand down, right by your lower back, he felt a warm and wet sticky-ness on his fingers. Unsure of what the hell it could possibly be, he furrowed his brows and turned to investigate.

Oh…

That very un-pleasant substance rubbed onto his fingers was blood, and there was a small puddle of it along with a trail that lead to known regions, or at least he assumed he knew.

He felt bad about waking you up, but he figured you’d wanna know that you were stewing in a nice little pool of your menstrual cycle. He shook your shoulder, hearing you groan in protest as you were clearly still in a sleepy state. He shook you again and you stirred a little, mumbling a quiet ‘what’ under your breath.

“Hey… uh,” what was he even supposed to say? Clearly this wasn’t the average happening. “I think you started your period.”

He thinks?

You sighed out in annoyance before halfway turning over to check what he was seeing. He was right, you bled right through your shorts and probably his sheets, too. You weren’t really embarrassed as much as you were upset that you hadn’t been prepared. You’d been too tired last night to remember you probably should have padded yourself up.

“Shit,” you squinted your eyes against the hard light of the window when you turned back over, trying to get up as quickly as possible without smearing it all over the place. When you stood up you felt a lovely gush approaching, and mentally died of mortal obnoxiton. You crossed your legs in an awkward stance to prevent any red stripes running down your legs. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

He saw the look on your face and realized you were pissed at yourself, and for no apparent reason. He wasn’t an idiot, he knew this was a normal thing for all girls to go through, and that you shouldn’t be mad because it happened in his presence. If anything, he was sorry that he hadn’t known, because then maybe he could have helped you remember. He’d have to make a mental note to ask you about your cycles later so he could be prepared just in case your weren’t.

“It’s fine, okay? Why don’t you go hop in the shower and I’ll grab you a change of clothes,” he ushered you out of the room, or tried to, but you stopped in your tracks at the doorway, looking back at the rather large leak you left on accident.

“What about the bed?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he shook his head, assuring you as he pushed your protesting form out the door and across the hall to the bathroom.

He made sure you’d shut the door for good before going back into his room and looking over the mess. It was pretty rough, his mattress would definitely be stained, but then again, it already was to no end. He had some bladder control issues when he was a kid, and though he got picked on, he could always look back and laugh about it, now. As he stripped the sheets from the bed, he noticed there was a distinct smell of the blood that was different than if you had just cut yourself. He figured it probably had to do with where it came from, but he cringed at the thought, shaking it off and going back to his task. He wasn’t sure how he was going to try and explain to uncle Wayne why there were bloody sheets in the laundry, but he’d figure it out when he got there. He tried his best to absorb the blood on the mattress with a towel, which seemed to work pretty well until he realized he’d also just ruined a perfectly good towel. He cursed himself under his breath and shook his head, but continued at it anyway. If he’d already ruined it he might as well make sure it was useful. The stain was dry, now, and he went to toss the towel in the laundry, but ultimately decided it should just be trashed. His hands were still smeared with dry blood, and some thicker areas that were still wet and sticky. He couldn’t deny it felt gross, but something about it being yours made it seem slightly more bearable. If it had been anyone else he would have run for the hills.

The kitchen sink was probably dirtier than the one in the bathroom, so it couldn’t hurt to rinse his hands there, could it? He didn’t think twice before turning on the faucet and getting all the nasty stuff off. The way the water swirled down the drain with a tint of red reminded him of the movie Psycho. You made him watch it every halloween, and now he had the detriment of remembering a certain scene as if it were being played out before him. He chuckled at the strange association before shutting the water off and going to find you that change of clothes he promised.

Once he had something new in his hands, he went to the bathroom door and knocked, awaiting your response.

“It’s open,” you shouted from the shower, allowing him entrance. He slowly opened the door and was immediately hit in the face with a bout of steam. He didn’t understand why you always took such hot showers, he couldn’t stand when the water made him even the slightest bit too warm, but you were crazy, keeping the temperature boiling at all times.

“Damn, it’s like a sauna in here,” he set the change of clothes on the edge of the sink, hoping they wouldn’t become too damp with the thick fog of the room.

“It’s relaxing,” you replied, knowing how much of a nut he thought you were for ‘showering in hellfire.’

“It’s suffocating,” he laughed, waving a hand around to try and clear out enough steam to even take a breath. You rolled your eyes, unready to shoot back any remark over that one. Good thing he had more to say. “I’m leaving you something to change into.”

When you heard the door close, you turned the water off, stepping out from behind the cheap curtain that had been used for far too long. Hard water was building up on the bottom, and you’d probably be the one to actually remember to replace it in the future. The towel was warm and steamed from the water vapor, a nice feeling when you started to dry off. As you got dressed, you reached under the cabinet in the sink and pulled out the emergency pads that were often always kept in case something like this happened. Your stupidity and exhaustion last night must have really done a number on you that you were able to forget.

The air of the trailer was not cold by any means, but the stark breeziness of it compared to the foggy bathroom was a bit chilly on your damp skin and hair. You went back into his room, arms crossed as you saw him fumbling with the bottom left corner of the fitted sheet. It kept popping off every time he tucked it under. The sheets were clean, and the stain underneath had been mostly removed.

He did it all himself, even though it had been your blood, and your accident.

“Need a hand?” You joked, staying where you were until he asked you so you could watch him attempt and fail again, very comedically, you might add.

“I got it,” he insisted, shaking his head as he finally managed to get it to stay. It was so tight you were sure the elastic would wear out, but he was pleased with himself for now.

“I probably stained the mattress, huh?” You assumed, looking slightly guilty, as if what you had done was worth a punishment of some sort. He didn’t like the thought process he saw churning in your head.

“One more can’t hurt,” he said, and you immediately turned back to him with furrowed brows and a confused gaze. “You have any idea how many piss stains are on that thing?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, because it must have been a joke… right? It was funny-

“What?” You blinked at him and waited for any confirmation that he was jesting around, but none came. Oh boy.

“It was years ago, dumbass,” he shook his head, as if your concern was so ridiculous. To be quite fair, he wouldn’t blame you if you had thought he had recently wet the bed, though hopefully not with you in it. It would be a fun joke to revisit in the future, but for now, you were more concerned about the stain you had caused.

Why didn’t he make you do it?

“You didn’t have to clean it up,” you changed the subject on him, and he shrugged, looking at you while you stared blankly and strangely at the bed. “I’m sorry if it was gross.”

“Well, getting it on my hands wasn’t the peak of my day, but I wanted to help you out,” he nudged you, trying to lighten the mood. Why were you so bothered? This is a natural thing for girls, isn’t it? And if so, then why did you look like you were mourning a loved one? “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry,” you shook your head… another obvious sign of your lovely cycle of womanhood, the ghastly change in your emotions. Practically anything could set you off, and right now it was the sentiment that your dearest friend would be so kind as to not only clean up the mess you left, but try and make you feel better about literally bleeding in his bed.

“Don’t be sorry, okay?” He didn’t know why it was such a big deal. Maybe you were just hormonal at this point, but he couldn’t always tell. “Look, it wasn’t that bad. Besides, aren’t periods really painful and shit?”

“Absolutely, cramps are a bitch.”

“Exactly, so don’t worry about this, worry about fighting the blood demon.”

The man he drank from moments ago was like a deflated balloon, now, dead to the world and shriveled up and pale like an unwashed sheet… but Eddie wasn’t satisfied. He was still in the animalistic overdrive that kept him from thinking rationally, only predatorily. He was still craving the blood he’d tasted once before, from a time when none of this had happened. It was a devouring need, and it ached in his bones, causing him to run at an incredible speed to where he knew he could find what he needed.

[cassynite]

For the PWOTR asks: 4. What were the pivotal/defining moments in your KC's playthrough? 14. What is your KC's backstory? 15. What do they do after the game? Bonus question: how does their story/life end, if at all?

Aaaaah thanks so much for the ask! These questions were all really good (sorry it took so long to respond!)

4. What were the pivotal/defining moments in your KC's playthrough?

Becoming Knight Commander: Sparrow's motivations are forced to change at the beginning of Act 2. While dealing with Kenabres she's not considering herself a leader and side-eyes anyone who implies she is one. She has plans to get the fuck out as soon as the fires get put out once she learns that the artificer she came to Kenabres for is dead; she was going to be gone after the party at the end of act one, disappearing without a trace.

Galfrey inadvertently catches her before then, and while Sparrow thinks it's the silliest idea in the world to put a complete stranger in charge of an army, it's hard to say no to a queen who's been fighting demons longer than Sparrow's been alive. Sparrow doesn't want to rock the boat and furloughs her departure--she'll leave after she (somehow) takes Drezen, then after the issue with Wintersun is resolved, etc. But because she's actually good at the job (she has a strong mind for tactics and anticipating contingencies) she ends up doing very well; this, coupled with her growing powers, allows her to stop seeing the Crusade as a duty she needs to play along with until people's backs turn and she can slip out, and start feeling like a place she might be safe.

Daeran's birthday party conclusion: Sparrow is not a fan of Daeran early game--she's attracted to him, he pokes her buttons deliberately to try and gain a reaction (and often succeeds), and worst of all they'd crossed paths when she was pretending to be Evaethi in Mendev. He's a walking liability to her on so many fronts and if it weren't for his abilities making him such a powerhouse healer she would have avoided him like the plague. She would have fought on his behalf to let him go when Galfrey conscripted him if she'd had the spine to do so at the time. The fact that he turns out to be surprisingly hardworking and is capable of making her laugh is secondary to the fact that she's never sure just how serious he is about anything, if any of the kinder or more passionate aspects she's seen are just fronts, or if he's just making her into a joke.

His past makes Sparrow feel like she understands him a little better. She's able to identify how lonely and isolating the trauma of what he went through and the presence of the Other has made him, and she connects to that. It doesn't make her immediately turn around and like him, but it does make her more receptive to his gestures of friendship and, later, courtship. Daeran's romance can quite literally be described as life-changing for Sparrow but she never would have engaged with him if she hadn't learned about what had happened.

Being captured in Battlebliss: This was literally Sparrow's worst nightmare come to life. She had just clawed her way out of slavery, her powers and her new position finally affording her the ability to escape the chains she'd had on since she was eleven. To be collared again, with no obvious escape...she has a major, though brief, breakdown that not even the Hand can help her out of. It's not until Zeklex offers to help her escape that she's able to calm down a little and focus on breaking out. Still, even successfully breaking free leaves Sparrow cagey and uncertain; it is in its aftermath that the party learns about Sparrow's history as a slave and as a body double because she can no longer hide her reactions from them.

Choosing to remain an angel: Sparrow spends the majority of the game outright deferring to other people's opinions and desires, or pretending to follow along with what other people want to keep the peace. It's a struggle for her to openly say no to someone, and when she's standing between the patron goddess of the crusades and a demon lord, it really should be common sense which person in the argument she should be siding with. But she likes being an angel, she likes how her powers and her presence have a tangible positive impact, and she finally feels safe enough to begin to express herself. Choosing to follow with Nocticula's plans--with whatever Areelu wants--over Iomadae's warnings is kind of the final stand Sparrow needed to really start to learn how to exist as herself. If she can openly defy a goddess's wishes, she can say no to anyone.

Daeran's confession/proposal: Sparrow is all in on her feelings by the time the party gets yeeted into the Abyss, but she's never sure if Daeran feels as intensely as she does, or if he even would want to. The final show of trust that is Daeran's post-quest conversation solidifies things for Sparrow: this is it, he's not going to leave or run away or hide, what they have is permanent. He wants to marry her--she finally lets herself believe that she might get to keep this. It's basically the moment she allows herself to be happy without reservations.

14. What is your KC's backstory?

I tried not to write a novel...this was shortened three times I'm so sorry

Sparrow spent her early life in a cliffside house in Dehrukani where her older brother raised her. Her parents had disappeared so early in her life she no longer remembers them; she only knows that they were wildlife researchers who had gone on a trip that they never returned from. Her brother, Crow, was considered a child prodigy and was taught by an engineer from Alkenstar, and worked in Dehrukani designing various large-scale buildings and projects that implemented the crystals found commonly in the country. When Sparrow was about eleven, the two of them made a trip north to Alkenstar to visit Crow's old mentor, and are attacked on the way by slavers. Crow is left to bleed out on the side of the road and Sparrow is captured to be sold.

She was eventually purchased in Cheliax by Lord Gregoriath of House Arvanxi, a distant cousin of the main line in a house that has fallen out of favor with the queen. While House Arvanxi is currently seen as a laughingstock, Gregoriath anticipated the possibility of the crown coming down heavy on the family in time, especially if the current frivolous head of house was ever replaced with someone who had more political acumen. A man obsessed with his bloodline, he purchased Sparrow for the purposes of protecting his only heir, Evaethi--an aasimar girl with a passing resemblance to Sparrow. When he introduced her to the Chelish court later that year, he would instead present Sparrow, and would use her as a body double for Evaethi whenever it was convenient. The plan was to use Sparrow as a sponge for any possible assassination attempts until Gregoriath secured a politically stable or beneficial position for his daughter, and then swap them out so his daughter can continue his legacy.

Sparrow spends significant amounts of time learning the mannerisms and habits of Evaethi, expecting to dress like her, change her appearance to better match the young lady, and even answer to the name "Eva" at all times to avoid slip ups. She gains an education alongside Evaethi, learns history and art and politics and dance, and when Evaethi takes a passing interest in swordsmanship and then in magic, Sparrow becomes skilled in both. Deliberately isolated from other staff, Sparrow ends up spending most of her days at Evaethi's side and develops a feeling of kinship with her--two years younger, and sweet if very flighty, Evaethi treats Sparrow like an older sister she can bully with impunity but also with affection. Sparrow becomes protective of her.

Gregoriath is not a kind master or a kind father; he sees both girls as his property in one way or another. Evaethi also has the added misfortune of being wonderful on a horse but nowhere else, which draws her father's disappointment and ire. When, at fifteen, Gregoriath flies into a rage at Evaethi's antics that leave her in tears, Sparrow shares her private plans with Evaethi: the careful markings she'd made of the guard rotations in the household, the contacts she'd established in nearby Westcrown, and the money she'd ferreted away to disappear. They could run away together, and find somewhere where Gregoriath couldn't hurt them. They could be free.

Evaethi immediately tells her father of the escape plan, and Sparrow is punished, with a rune being embedded in her skin that allows Gregoriath to track her wherever she goes.

When Evaethi is nineteen and Sparrow twenty-one, she ends up volunscripted into going to Mendev as part of a political ploy in court, with Gregoriath remaining behind but making it clear he would be keeping tabs on his wayward daughter. He expects something useful to come from this, even if it has to be a marriage to some out of the way Mendevian noble. He'll come up with something; now that his original plans for Evaethi are dust, he'll find some use for her. On the way there, Evaethi leaves in the middle of the night with only a short note for Sparrow to find--she's done with Gregoriath's plans, so she's going to disappear and live a life of adventure.

Sparrow does not have the luxury of running off the same way, not with the tracking rune. So she adapts; she convinces the servants in the retinue not to immediately report Evaethi's departure, to slowly pay them off once they reached Nerosyan so they would disapper entirely. As soon as she steps foot in the country, she plays the part of Evaethi at all times; the Chelish nobility who were there for diplomatic purposes only ever met Sparrow if they had come across "Evaethi" at all, and she writes regular letters in Evaethi's handwriting to Gregoriath to keep him believing that she is doing her best to try and establish connections in Mendev. Meanwhile, she is frantically trying to find someone who can break the magic in the tracking rune, all while scraping aside enough money to pay off whoever she does find. It takes her two years, but eventually she has everything in place. She leaves messages for the remaining servants telling them they should probably run, gets together her funds, and sets off to Kenabres. Rest is history.

15. What do they do after the game? Bonus question: how does their story/life end, if at all?

Aaaah I'm not totally sure about this one yet! I've done playthroughs where Sparrow ascends and ones where she doesn't. I think both work for her character. If she ascends, I imagine she spends a lot of time using her powers to help heal the damage the Worldwound and the century-long war has caused on the land. Areelu would ascend with her and Sparrow has some feelings about it, but she also spends time with the woman when she isn't with Daeran. Beyond that, I think she becomes the kind of goddess that anyone who feels trapped, oppressed, or hopeless can call out to for aid.

If she doesn't ascend, she marries Daeran and becomes Countess Arendae, and spends most of her time in Drezen. Her desire to run away and disappear is gone now; Drezen is Her Place, and she works to make it somewhere where people can be safe, happy, and free to pursue their dreams. Drezen didn't declare independence during the Crusades but it was a near thing, and its new importance as a military and cultural center in Mendev means she ends up coming up at odds with Galfrey in Nerosyan often. Beyond that, I don't have a lot of concrete ideas; I do know that Daeran takes her on trips often, and they rarely are out of each other's company for any extended length of time.

[karlyanalora]

"Sleeper" intrigues me.

This one has been on the back burner for a while because I honestly got stumped on how to proceed. It was born from this tumblr post which was basically a what if where Optimus was a sleeper agent. I proposed this could be the case, and Megatron would activate that during his first battle in Detroit. But the sleeper code doesn’t change who you are as a mech, it just makes you undying loyal to the Autobot cause no matter what. So Optimus, actually Orion, would still kick Megatron’s aft because he realizes he’s a big jerk. But Optimus was a very loyal Decepticon, and he wants to know what the heck happened to make the mech he looked up to a monster. This is the aftermath, as far as I could figure it out.

Optimus gets triggered but still keeps fighting. No one notices the conversation between Optimus and Megatron except for Prowl, who does not let on.

The fight proceeds the same except for the fight over the Allspark being more personal and Optimus more conflicted. The decision is still the same.

Optimus has an internal crisis. He feels horrible, and he’s constantly picking at his Autobot badge. He wants it off so badly, wants to wear the Decepticon badge again. But it’s clear the Decepticons have changed, but he’s not sure how much is propaganda. He asks Ratchet and does some hacking aboard Teletran. He spends most of his time on the ship and is plagued by alternating nightmares of being like he was before and turning on his friends.

When the Elite Guard arrives and Optimus is unable to convince them of Decepticon presence, he decides to come clean with Ultra Magnus in private and have a new Prime assigned to the team to protect Earth. Optimus remembers Ultra Magnus as an old friend and a good mech, and though a part of him whispers he can’t be any more, he chooses to trust in him again.

He is greeted with tears and a hug. Optimus has always reminded Ultra of Orion and he’s glad to have his friend back. He’s honored by Optimus’ trust and gently explains all his actions. He urges Optimus to come clean with Ratchet.

Optimus does, though not quite on his own terms. All that picking at the badge has gotten infected and Ratchet has to pull him aside about it. He offers to treat it and tries to address the underlying cause of the behavior. He’s gentle and caring much like after Lockdown, saying Optimus has nothing to be ashamed of and he can trust him. Optimus breaks down and admits who he truly is.

Ratchet has mixed feelings. He would doubt if Optimus destroyed the Allspark if they hadn’t found the shard earlier. The light in Optimus seems to die as Ratchet avoids him. He keeps picking at the badge.

When Sentinel loses his body, Optimus finds he has no more patience for him. He involves Ultra Magnus and lets the bridge on his side finally burn.

Ultra Magnus announces his decision to have another Prime replace Optimus, and the team is understandably angry. Optimus is too depressed to react. Prowl remains quiet on the subject and Ratchet finds himself not wanting Optimus to go. He finally comes to terms with Optimus’ past and tells him he’s here for him. Optimus expresses how he doesn’t feel comfortable leading the team while living a lie. Ratchet promises to stand beside him.

Optimus comes clean to the team. Bee is scared and confused. Sari doesn’t get it. Prowl already knew and said if OP was going to betray them, he would have done it earlier. Bulkhead is torn.

Bee goes to report Optimus. He tries to tell Sentinel, but he gets pushed aside. Jazz pulls him aside and asks what’s so important. Bee tells him and they both report to Ultra. Ultra gently explains his reasoning for trusting Optimus, and Jazz vouches for Orion. Bee apologizes to Optimus, who doesn’t blame him. Optimus decides to stay on Earth, and they say goodbye as the Elite Guard take Starscream away. Optimus sends Ultra Magnus with the little knowledge he has on the Sleeper Project and Shockwave’s “Autobot” mode, leading to Blurr and Mirage being assigned to watch Longarm like a hawk. He gets literally nothing done. The spies are so good and “helpful” he thinks he may just be being paranoid but he can’t be sure. They’re just waiting for him to crack.

Optimus keeps picking at his badge. Ratchet finds him trying to gouge it out after a nightmare and Optimus admits to wanting his old badge back. Ratchet agrees to do it for him.

Optimus finds himself thinking of his old friend and the mech who was supposed to be his handler. We have flashbacks of how he was hidden among stasis newsparks. To come forth in the Decepticons most dire hour, if they lost. He wonders what happened to Deadlock and asks Ratchet. Ratchet tells him about Drift and they find a way to contact him.

Drift is really happy to see him. It makes Optimus feel a lot better to talk to him. It also makes him homesick.

Megatron is broody about why the loyal Orion Pax has forsaken their cause. He also can’t contact Shockwave at all.

Now I know I want this to end with Autobot-Decepticon reconciliation where mechs like Sentinel get their afts handed to them. But like I said, I got stumped.

[ofgentleresolve]

Does Patrick ever let the ghost of Felicity guide his actions AS IN does he sometimes regret things, avoid things, pursue things because of how he feels Felicity might have felt about them? What about Myungdae? Does Yoojin ever fear that perhaps he's immortal enough to outlive the world itself, to then be stuck and entirely alone? Are there feelings of inadequacy of any kind that plague Ray and could he vocalise them? Does Lam ever feel like he's stuck, does he feel like he's exactly where he's supposed to be or is he haunted by trauma restlessness, that prompts him to always keep moving, metaphorically or otherwise? How does Mana feel about her hands, about her skin, can she hold herself? Does she feel comfortable or uncomfortable at the notion of offering herself gentleness? Does K feel as though removed from life as others feel it, does his involvement with so many high-stakes, national affairs and people, make him feel as though he's actually playing a part in getting something done or does he fear being a wheel in this kind of machine, because of the life he can't have due to that? Bonus, Hyurick Pain™ (i'm a huge fan~): Has Patrick and/or Myungdae ever feared as though losing Felicity as he did would make him... inadequate (not a good word, BUT I CAN'T FIND WHAT I MEAN), almost, to love Hyuk? Did he ever fear the world might doubt him capable enough of moving on? Does he trust in love?

@mythvoiced LENA THESE QUESTIONS WERE FIRE OH MY GOSH 😲😲😲 ( unprompted. )

Does Patrick ever let the ghost of Felicity guide his actions AS IN does he sometimes regret things, avoid things, pursue things because of how he feels Felicity might have felt about them?

hahaha, you would think that after at least ten years patrick would have moved on from felicity by now bc of the sheer fact of, you know, it’s been ten years and that realistic that is a really long time to be mourning someone :’D if we’re talking about relationship wise or even just in regards to friendships, I wouldn’t say it’s necessarily the ghost of felicity, herself that makes him hesitant to open up to other people, but rather it’s the suddenness and brutality at how she was taken that made him clam up. like, before meeting felicity, patrick was pretty closed off…like of course, hyuk was his bff ( and will always be his bff ) and is one person whom patrick is comfortable with being himself around, but it’s kinda like?? You know, different people will bring out different sides of you?? so in this case, felicity, since she was more on the cheery and outgoing side, being around her really encouraged him to loosen up, ‘let his hair down’ if that makes any sense :’D I would say patrick was his most playful when he was dating felicity.

Which is why when felicity passed, patrick didn’t just go back to the way he had been before meeting, he became much more serious and reserved- like take how reserved and serious he is in main verse, now multiply that by like 10 and you have patrick in the aftermath of felicity’s passing…I even would say he hardly, like really smiled for like, the first year after she was gone ( although it also didn’t help that communication between hyuk and him had been on the sparser side due to a. work and b. patrick really hermitting in response to the grief…

Where was I going with this though?? OH YEAH the brutality of her passing- so let’s just say when you see the body of the love of your life that has been burnt to a crisp, it does…things to your brain. It sticks in a very permanent way and makes him almost…scared to pursue new relationships bc what if something like that happens to whoever else comes into his life?

Which is why I will say that felicity’s passing, although he knows logically she would want him to find and pursue new relationships…the way he lost her makes him hesitant to say, deepen the bonds of friendship with other people since that requires a certain degree of vulnerability that he doesn’t feel comfy with ( hyuk is both an exception and not an exception in that a. patrick was already best friends with hyuk before dating felicity and b. literally ten years. It takes them ten years to actually act on these feelings ).

On the romantic end as well, he has been encouraged by fellow colleagues and friends to perhaps seek new love as he deserves it, however, again, it’s not just that felicity was so special to him and he didn’t ( I’m using past tense here bc of hyuk :’D ) think there was anyone quite up to her calibre and therefore wouldn’t feel that it’s fair to pursue something he only felt half-heartedly about, BUT also it’s that the way she went that again haunts and he instinctually doesn’t feel right about setting her memory aside for his own happiness.

( that and also when the ‘accident’ that killed her was covered up, it also happens that any trace of her was also covered up…and save for one physics teacher in LA, patrick felt like he has a responsibility to keep her memory alive somehow :’(( )

What about Myungdae?

So unlike with patrick, myungdae never quite?? Had the time to process her death ( granted patrick had ten years and in those ten years, peace and quiet and his best friend, while myungdae had half the time and none of those things ) aka he’s still pretty raw about her passing. Whereas he might be able to speak about hyuk briefly to team checkmate, felicity is an off-limits topic; his temper will be triggered if probed on it ( which is also why when naomi starts to appear in seoul, myungdae will be HM- let’s hope he’s reunited with hyuk by that time, otherwise no one’s getting any information about felicity there :// ).

Anyways, my point is that myungdae clings to the small reminders of felicity kinda like the way a child clings to their security blanket….it’s the reason he still carries around the pocket watch she gave him even though analog clocks are his worst nightmares :///  or why, say, he always keeps red hair ties in his desk/pocket or even why he’ll listen to sound of beach waves to soothe himself. for him, felicity is both a painful reminder and a safe space, as he associates her with the life he led five years ago…basically when he felt like a whole person, not an echo of that like shin myungdae and the black knight are D-:

Does Yoojin ever fear that perhaps he's immortal enough to outlive the world itself, to then be stuck and entirely alone?

As he says, he’s ‘been there, done that’. the place where I like to write him is where he’s come to accept that people will come and go, but for every goodbye there’s always going to be a hello- that being said, he finds that there’s no point in fearing the end of humanity ( although he really really would prefer if that didn’t happen ) when there’s still the present to contend with….but if that really does end up being the scenario, he’ll probably try to put a positive spin on it. Aka go befriend the aliens or whatever species end up coming after the humans :D

( although seriously, he really would hope?? That sooner or later his curse would end by that time…not that he’s looking for death necessarily, but rather, he’d like to go to an eternal rest once he is truly alone :’D )

 Are there feelings of inadequacy of any kind that plague Ray and could he vocalise them?

I think it’s definitely living up to his dad’s legacy as his cooking in the past does get compared to roy evans’ cooking and is considered second to that…years of trying to live up with that does give him insecurity about just…being considered a good cook in general? Which is also why he indulges in his demon spawn recipes…bc he already knows it’s gonna taste terrible SO there’s no need to worry about being judged :’D

as for vocalizing them, that’s something he doesn’t feel quite ready to divulge to anyone about yet?? Annnd this is also why I would think that he likes lam so much bc lam?? Well yeah he’s a hot mess and while neither of them have spoken about their histories with one another ( yet ), but lam also is surprisingly quite open about his insecurities and opinions and of course no one likes to be around a grump 24/7 BUT…there’s something comforting to ray about the fact that someone can be so open with their opinions without fear of censure over what other people might say when ray can’t bring himself to be open about the bad parts of himself if that makes any sense :’D

 Does Lam ever feel like he's stuck, does he feel like he's exactly where he's supposed to be or is he haunted by trauma restlessness, that prompts him to always keep moving, metaphorically or otherwise?

Of those three options, I think lam feels stuck more than anything. Although I suppose this might be a common feeling for a lot of people his age ^^’  sans getting screwed over by a friend and feeling guilt over that… in a physical sense, there are times where he feels really heavy and just can’t bring himself to do anything…most of the time that happens after he visits robin and it kinda feels like he can’t get out of his own body since the guilt ( metaphorically ) takes on a physical sensation and paralyzes him….but to go back to feeling stuck, it’s like, he is taking the steps to move forward ( aka with his job and making friends with new people all while figuring out who he is and what he wants out of his relationships ) BUT he also feels like…tethered?? To robin if that makes any sense?? Like, she’s been behind bar for at least two years and in those two years, she hasn’t really…changed aka her sentiments on what has happened, she hasn’t changed her perspective on the situations, those sentiments have only deepened…and so when he visits her it’s almost like unwillingly time traveling to how he was right before the accident….and he really doesn’t want to but also he knows that robin doesn’t have anyone else waiting for her on the other side so…it’s quite the predicament for him here :/

How does Mana feel about her hands, about her skin, can she hold herself? Does she feel comfortable or uncomfortable at the notion of offering herself gentleness?

You know Lena, that’s actually a really good question because most times when I think about gentleness in mana’s case, it’s almost always in the case of how she treats others. THAT BEING SAID, that’s such an accurate observation on your part since a lot of times, I’ve found, people who are harsh with others, typically are pretty harsh with themselves as well…

In the case of mana though, when it comes to her own body, it’s still a process for her to consider her own body as well, a home to live in since for so long, she’s had to see it as purely a means of survival. ( ex. Providing company for mister dinh ). As result of that time, it could be safe to say, even though she was in  a safe environment post high school and could have food to eat always, she lived as if she did before….which means, often skipping meals ( or just straight up not being able to eat well bc of her body reject said foods…) and have irregular sleeping hours. It’s not until daniel’s death though when these issues really started to become an issue for her as inadvertent brought up all of the trauma that she had pushed down from before college ( and this includes witnessing her mother’s death ).

To answer your question though, she has begun to acknowledge it more, aka take attempts to…pamper it if that makes any sense as in the past, she was more inclined not necessarily to hurt it, but more of to ignore it aka treat it as a separate entity that she has no real attachment to from herself. As for providing herself with gentleness, again, that’s also a process she’s learning to get use to although a good number of this coarseness that she was giving herself before was pretty subconscious as it took quite some time to realize that yeah, she blamed herself for both her mother’s and daniel’s passings. And as such, she self-sabotaged majorly in the first year following daniel’s passing….

Does K feel as though removed from life as others feel it, does his involvement with so many high-stakes, national affairs and people, make him feel as though he's actually playing a part in getting something done or does he fear being a wheel in this kind of machine, because of the life he can't have due to that?

I think for right now, at least in k’s main verse, from my understand, K is, as you’ve pointed out, very removed and isolated from life as the others might know it and he does that by choice. Even after he gets his revenge, you can see that he still remains by yo-han’s side and while part of it does come from an undying loyalty to the one person who has been by his side all these years, I also see it as because k has isolated himself all these years to follow yo-han, k feels he doesn’t have anything really to live for?? or at least a purpose…of course, it’s a very dangerous lifestyle and since k has fulfilled his goal, he could technically leave yo-han behind for their own safety. HOWEVER, they don’t and honestly, it makes sense to me bc dying is scary, but what’s scarier than that?

Living.

Bonus, Hyurick Pain™ (i'm a huge fan~): Has Patrick and/or Myungdae ever feared as though losing Felicity as he did would make him… inadequate (not a good word, BUT I CAN'T FIND WHAT I MEAN), almost, to love Hyuk? Did he ever fear the world might doubt him capable enough of moving on? Does he trust in love?

HAHAHAHA so this is where I get to nerd about why I love hyurick soooo much ( shoutout to alex @jeoseungsaja for wonderful ship and being a wonderful ship partner ), thank for this opportunity lena to allow me to indulge in hyurick PAIN :’D JFKLSDJFLK

So, this is actually kind of a question/concern I did have any ship that patrick would have following felicity ( and it was one w/ calum post mana’s passing as well ), which is that because felicity is such an integral part of patrick’s backstory and as a result, he will always love felicity…and unfortunately some muns/muses aren’t exactly…okay with that?? like I’ve had some muns who want their muse to be the ONLY one in my muse’s heart, which just isn’t going to happen :/ ANYWAYS, the point is that I knew that if patrick was to get into a romantic ship, there may be the question of ‘does he love this person because they remind him of felicity’ or ‘does he love this person because they’re filling in the void that felicity left behind’. In both of those cases, I know for a fact that patrick ( and calum for that matter ) would NEVER get into a relationship/ship if that was the case.

But that’s one of the biggest reasons I really?? Love hyurick!! because ( and alex feel free to correct me on ANY of this ) it’s not a competition between hyuk and felicity. Hyuk completely respects the place felicity has in patrick’s life ( and as a matter of fact, they were at the very least acquiantances ), understands that patrick will always love her, and would never try to replace her in patrick’s life. I like to think that when she was alive, she probably made like an unspoken promise with hyuk to ‘protect patrick because he’s too busy taking care of everyone else’. Basically, their mutual point is patrick so if one were to perish ( like felicity did ), the other would be there to take care of patrick.

On patrick’s end, again he would never to use hyuk to replace felicity in his heart because hyuk, first of all, is his platonic love, so they’ve already had a very strong bond hyuk?? understands that :’D basically, what I’m trying to say, is that patrick’s romantic feelings for hyuk developed independently from his grief. i also believe I have told alex that after felicity’s second passing, patrick does actually put breaks on the budding relationship between him and hyuk bc it wouldn’t’?? feel right to pursue this relationship while he’s properly grieving felicity’s death 🥲

BUT BUT!! I actually had this shower thought and honestly, this might explain why patrick knows for a fact that his feelings for hyuk are genuine. This was completely unintentional, but when I was developing felicity, she accidentally mirrored hyuk in that they are (were) both lively hotheads who also happened to really like the beach. and with her backstory now set in stone, they both have rough histories when it comes to families. It just might not seem that way initially because by the time felicity met patrick, she had softened a fair bit so some of that temper mellowed more into cheerfulness.

With this in mind, I actually argue that not only does patrick’s relationship with felicity inform how he approaches his romantic relationship with hyuk, but patrick’s friendship with hyuk also informed how he approached his romance with felicity. He was friends with hyuk first and knowing what kind of background hyuk had come from, it allowed him to also approach felicity in the way that would make her feel comfortable once he got the full picture. To summarize, basically he wouldn’t be the person is with either felicity or hyuk if he didn’t have a relationship with the other person :’D

Now for myungdae though- yowza, uh so what happened with felicity is more or less one of the reasons he avoids hyuk like the plague. Because it is partially because he doesn’t want ANACHRON to hurt hyuk the way they did with felicity, however it is also due to an internalized belief that he ultimately ends up hurting the people he cares about inadvertently ( considering that in those five years, there were individuals who did help him and then were killed and/or tortured because they did so ). At this point, moving on isn’t a thought for him because to begin with, he’s not even sure if he’s going to make it out in one point to have the chance to move on :///

[seelestia]

oh yes yes, that sounds perfect, i shall look for various buckets for all the tears you managed to gather :) /j

writers are not content churning bots and all readers need to keep that in mind! i’m sending all my loves to all the lovely writers like you in this app <3 <3 <3

what can i say, when i want something to be done i go all the way *shrugs* /lh /hj

ohhh your take on diluc is very interesting! i suppose based on his history, he does seem like the type to do that. mmm yeah he’s definitely not going to deal well with the aftermath of reader’s death. i can see him overworking himself and avoiding resting like a plague because resting means his brain will automatically think back to reader, and he can’t spiral down again. but either way, it won’t do well for his health ;(((

yesyes i love the inner turmoils in all those three scenarios for sure!!

xiao’s line “for once, Alatus doesn't think he can bear it any longer.” makes me imagine a continuation scene where he finally succumbs to his karmic debts right then and there... ;w;

kazuha’s line “Kazuha's heart is only one, but death seems to favor him so much that it keeps taking pieces of his soul little by little.” honestly broke a piece of my heart. my poor bby. he deserves so many hugs.

zhongli’s line "Even if it hurts." is just. sldkjflskjdf. i have no words, bc of course he endures, that’s just so him.

and lastly, yes - itto going through a series of emotions are so in character, cause i can totally see him not knowing what to do in the situation. from denial to anxious to desperate to anger and more denials *chefs kiss*

and the last lines for everyone’s part is just sldkfjsldf it’s like a jab to the chest (but a good kind of jab…. if that makes sense LOL)

speaking of fresh air, perhaps i should have traded one of the silent grievers for albedo. hmmm. it’s an interesting thought - how would albedo handle sadness and lost? ... ehe~ alrighty, i think i got one character i will want to put in the request for next time >:))

ps. oh gosh this got so long i'm so sorry sldfkjsldf please don't feel burdened to reply or anything i think i'm just rambling by this point aaa

- 💠

no worries, anon~ why should you apologize for rambling when i, too, am a chronic rambler myself??? (/lh) let's nerd out together !! 🤧

i feel like when someone sends the same request to several writers, it's to see which writer will get their request out the fastest, perhaps??? and that thought is messed up because writers and content creators are not robots :( thank you, anon, i'm always getting crushed by your love !! <3 (/g)

diluc our beloved... he has already done this once when his father passed and now that his lover is gone, he's resorted to the same pattern again? old habits die hard, they really do. hoyoverse and their love for making characters experience loss (/j)

AND OML. you specifically picked out your favorite part?!?! help, i have reached the peak of my bucket list as a writer??? i'm flopping on the ground like a fish fjwkfkkesd (/pos)

and yes, there's a reason the last lines are italicized~ they were supposed to be like an epiphanic jab somewhat? i have a weird habit of making the last lines hit the most like i just had to. 🤌

ooo, albedo? ah, yes, yet another silent griever who isolates himself from the rest of the world 👀 albedo is well-aware of the mortality within you, the fragility of your body, the impending doom that can claim you at any second if it so wishes, he knows that. albedo has prepared for it the moment he allowed himself to fall for you — or, that's what he thought.

after you're gone, his lab in dragonspine that used to be his second home now becomes his only home. people start to wonder, does the chief alchemist not bother at all about the death of his lover? he rarely ever comes down to mondstadt these days, almost never. but here in his lab is where albedo buries himself in memories of you, knowing that you were once here, bringing him cups of coffee and accompanying him during the cold nights — and he'd rather stay here than anywhere else.

when i open requests in the future, it looks like it's guaranteed i'd see an angsty request from you >:) and with our resident chief alchemist too gasps