#crossing streams between fandom and Other Stuffs

[theclockwitch]

TOTALLY not recommending this but

you know how easy it would be

in some occult circles

to utilize a character as an egregore?

I like when people like a character so way too much that it transcends even self shipping or kinning and becomes more of a patron saint that you pray to type of deal

[ender1821]

re: shinyduo/gempearl being so not normal about each other after life series. other anon was so right why are they freaky.

pearl is definitely just as at fault imo. gem’s excellent at innuendos and tone of voice (“your red skin is my favorite~”) but pearl’s yes and filter falls apart in front of gem. the pickles a prime example, and the ren stream disaster wedding of course. she’s also very genuine and i love that for her. but that results in crazy lines like the “love you gem. always will. even if you dont want me, ill still be there.” TO STREAM WHEN GEM WASNT EVEN THERE.

and i need to mention the latest stream. Pearl “I only get asked if im gay when you’re in the picture” and how they both have to take a minute of silence to process that flejelejwkej. whose fault is that pearl? whose fault ?? to her credit she seems genuinely confused by the extent of her actions. the most damning evidence for her straightness i fear. rip gem though, she seems to be having fun anyway.

theyre both professionals and follow up in that stream with how the fandom will always play around with them as characters etc etc. good communication, very healthy, good for them. but this post is about why they graduated from shenanigans and innuendos to 2 hours of fanservice and it doesn’t even feel intentional half the time.

as for next life series, i would be shocked if they didn’t keep up this befuddling yuri bit. theyve mentioned seeing all the tierlist maker dream team posts and pearl had to ask her chat “OTHER than gem, who should I team with” so theyre well aware demand is there. theyre fantastic as enemies and well aware of that, but they could get some scarian level drama by teaming together, and i dont say that lightly. since pearl keeps stalling pvp on hermitcraft, theyre never getting that 1v1 without cosmic intervention or a declaration of love 😭

rambling now. love to hear your thoughts xoxo

yippee i love anon rambles!!! im glad we’re all unwell

im NOT gonna go on another rant about the life series alliance situation because as i’ve just demonstrated yesterday i can literally rant. for hours. and we don’t need that lmao. at this point whether or not they team up in the next one SOMETHING will happen. i have that much faith in them. they’re bound to run into each other and do something and that’s the shiny duo connection speaking god bless

like the other anon said, i do think they can work with just about any dynamic and it’ll be insanity-inducing either way. one of my favourite things about them just as a pairing (in any context, platonic, romantic, etc.) is just the way they will drift towards one another, to be linked in a way that’s indescribable, to always carry a piece of each other with themselves wherever they wander because the influence they’ve had on the other is irrefutable— and okay yeah they’re getting way too freaky about it get out of my fan fiction-esque rant. what are you doing here. why are you like this. what. like there’s something going on when what they’re getting up to creeps more and more into being what i usually read in fics. i. hello???

i really, really want to give them the benefit of the doubt. okay. listen. for every mention of feet and poking at pearl’s straightness, there’s a chat message behind it that warranted it, i’m sure. this isn’t the post to be getting into how fans are with cc boundaries and how we’re STILL bad at figuring our tags out, but i feel like this discussion eventually HAS to touch on the fact that it’s been made clear that they don’t want to see shipping stuff, and bringing it up in chat crosses that boundary just as well. i think they’ve handled it well in acknowledging that they’re aware it’s for their characters, drawing clear lines between what they’re comfortable with and what they’re not, etc. i think just the muddled lines from people continuously bringing stuff from a fandom space up to a cc contributes a lot to why we got. whatever happened on that wednesday stream. honestly, from these instances on stream i think it’s been shown that they just find this stuff amusing, and good for them, y’know? still doesn’t mean we should be regularly poking them about ships and. well. i dunno. literally bringing it up in chat?

but still. BUT STILL. god the ways they “yes, and” each other just keep getting worse. stuff like the pickles and the wedding (and the SL ep 4 ender dragon fight! still one of the most baffling “yes, and”s i’ve ever seen from them, i swear to god) were almost completely just them. that was just them. there’s no blaming chat for gem saying “wait, i don’t have a beard” right after pearl rejects ren for having a beard, and CERTAINLY NOBODY ELSE TO BLAME when pearl takes that and literally proposes to her. that was all them. and why. girl. huh??? i do believe, at least to some extent, that pearl is oblivious to the implications of what she does/says. but that only goes so far. sorry man i can only give so much benefit of the doubt for like 2-3 streams of 2 hour fan service. good lord

i was texting a friend who isn’t into mcyt about this whole. thing. and the way i described it was: imagine being a gempearl shipper, and you’re enjoying life, driving this train with fanfics and fanart and everything’s all good… and then for some reason gem and pearl jump on the train, hijack the conductor seat and starts directing the train elsewhere. nearing the end of that stream i was questioning my life and screaming for a way off this train. that’s how it felt to me. of course i’m exaggerating but like. genuinely how did we get here

[angelasscribbles]

All That She Wants Chapter 3: Let's Talk

Series: All That She Wants

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings for this chapter: Riley x Drake

Word Count: 1,264

Rating: M

Warnings for this chapter: tiny flakes of lemon

My other stuff: Master List.

Sweat beaded on his forehead, matting his hair and dripping onto the glistening skin of the woman writhing underneath him.

It had been a month since Drake had taken Riley back to his room and done all the things he’d fantasized about for so long. She’d come back the next day and the day after that.

And then she’d gone back to being friendly and polite, but nothing more.

Until tonight.

Though he had been determined to demand a conversation, all his resolve had crumbled the moment he’d opened his door to find her standing on the other side.

He had given in to her so easily, and now her legs were wrapped around his waist, her nails sunk into the tanned flesh of his shoulder blades, and his cock was buried deep inside her.

His name fell from her lips as she shuddered beneath him, and he slammed into her one last time, sending streams of milky hot liquid erupting into her.

He nuzzled into the side of her neck as he caught his breath, unwilling to move off her just yet.

He wasn’t ready for this to be over.

He breathed in the scent of lilac and lavender mingled with sweat and sex. His tongue and lips trailed down her supple skin, the taste salty and sweet.

She made approving noises at first, but then she pushed at him to get him to roll off her. “It’s hot and you’re sweaty.”

“So are you.” He countered, but he complied by dropping his body onto the mattress next to her.

“Yes, I know. I need to borrow your shower.”

The unspoken part hung in the air between them. She couldn’t go back to her husband reeking of sex.

They lay side by side for several long minutes; him searching her face for something he couldn’t quite find.

Part of him was afraid of scaring her away, but a bigger part needed to know what was going on. He couldn’t face the prospect of her leaving and him not knowing if or when he’d see her again. “Listen, Riley. We need to talk.”

“About?”

“What we’re doing here.”

“I thought that was obvious.”

“Haha. Seriously. Listen. I know I have a reputation, Riley, but—”

She cut him off with an incredulous laugh. “You say that like it’s not a well-deserved reputation. You’ve been with a lot of women!”

He blew out a breath of frustration. “I have been with a lot of women, but—”

“It’s okay, Drake. You’re safe.” She sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. “I know you don’t do relationships, and I’m not asking you for one. I get it.”

“No, you don’t!” He shot upright, grabbed her arm, and pulled her back. “I want a relationship, Riley!”

She gave him a puzzled look as she shifted her body into the same cross-legged sitting position he had settled into. “No, you don’t. In the entire time I’ve known you, you’ve never dated the same woman for more than a few weeks. And it’s not for lack of opportunity. They throw themselves at you. I’ve seen it.”

His eyes searched her face for any trace of jealousy. “Does that bother you?”

Her brows furrowed momentarily. “What?”

“The women, Riley!” He exploded. “Do you care, even a little, when you see me with someone else?”

He read nothing but confusion in her eyes as she shook her head, “Why would you think—”

“Because it fucking kills me every time I see you with Liam, that’s why! I thought it was just me, all one-sided, but then you… this happened…” he gestured between them.

“What are you saying, Drake?”

“I’m saying that I want a fucking relationship, Riley, but the woman I want it with married my best friend!”

“I…I didn’t know…” she looked stricken.

His voice went quiet as he asked, “Is that why you didn’t give me the courtesy of a heads-up before you got engaged?”

Her eyes filled with tears. “Oh my god, Drake! I had no idea that you ever had feelings like that for anyone, much less for me!”

“Yeah, well, I am in ample possession of plenty of feelings… I just don’t see the point of sharing them with most people.”

“I don’t know what to say. I never knew you felt that way.”

“Why did you think that night happened?”

“Um…. Because you’re Drake Walker and you sleep with anyone and everyone?”

“I do not!”

She arched her eyebrows.

“Okay, I have been around the block a time or two, but do you really think I would have slept with someone Liam was interested in if I didn’t have genuine feelings for them?”

She twirled a loose strand of hair around a fingertip as she considered that. “I mean…we had been drinking, so I chalked it up to that.”

“Would it have made a difference if I’d told you how I felt?”

“Back then? No.” She had been too in love with Liam to give serious consideration to anyone else.

“And now?”

“Drake…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lead you on or anything. I assumed this was just fun and games for you. You know I love Liam. I married him!”

His eyes squeezed shut, pain swirling through him. His voice was clipped as he bit out, “Then why are you here?”

Her gaze drank him in as she considered whether or not to confide in him. One look into his misery-filled eyes convinced her that he was never going to use anything she told him against her.

She could trust him.

Her eyes were trained on her fingers as they twisted the edge of the sheet. Drawing a shaky breath, she admitted, “I can’t remember the last time Liam touched me.”

Drake went still as a soft, “Ah.” slipped from his lips.

She looked up, stunned at the tone she detected in his voice. “You’re not surprised.”

He sighed, unwilling to divulge Liam’s secrets no matter how in love he was with Riley. He hadn’t known they weren’t sleeping together, but in light of the information, he did know exactly why.

Seeing a possible way out without lying, he opted for a truth that wasn’t the whole truth. “I didn’t realize that you two weren’t…. I mean…” a crimson flush crawled up his neck and spread across his face as he stumbled over his words.

For the first time since they started this serious conversation, Riley laughed. It was a short, ironic laugh. She reached for his hand. “Geeze, Drake, after what we just did, are you really afraid to use words like sleeping together? Having sex?” She leaned closer with a hint of provocation lacing her voice. “Fucking?”

The flush went a shade deeper. “Riley!”

Her eyes traced across his face in pleased astonishment. Drake Walker, a known lothario, had somehow regressed into a skittish schoolboy because of her.

She couldn’t repress the smile or the soft laugh that burst out of her at the realization. Her fingers flew to her lips to try to cover it, but he noticed.

“Fuck!” He dropped his face into his hands to hide it from her. “I’m sorry for acting like an idiot.”

“No,” she reached out and gently pried his hands away from his face. “I like this new side of you.”

“Really?” He lifted his head and gazed at her with such tender hope and tortured longing that her heart stuttered in her chest, and butterflies exploded through her.

Well, shit.

That hadn’t been part of the plan.

[tzipporahs-well]

Hey it’s @flangstynerd AKA @scinerdwrites but on a new blog. There’s been a lot of changes in my life in the past couple years, and as a result I wanted to make a new blog for jumblr. Several of my friends are on here and I got inspired just to reblog their stuff :D

What’s Changed:

I converted to Reform Judaism from Catholicism in May of this year. I’ve been doing this conversion journey since November 2021, but I didn’t want to announce it to the internet until everything was done and finalized. After 2.5 years, everything is finally official.

I plan to be slightly more active on tumblr than I have been previously. I named my blog based on my Hebrew name (Tzipporah), and how I wish to provide a treasure trove of info.

I would say my ideals of practice are some kind of cross between Conservative and Reform Judaism.

I’ve acquired some chronic illnesses and disabilities over the years. My body has been tough to me for the last couple years.

I have a Jewish podcast that has several eps already now. Our podcast has a tumblr blog, but please dm me for more info for safety reasons.

What is the same?

I’m still Chinese, Hmong, and queer (pronouns: they/she). I’m still culturally Italian as an adoptee. Those are not going anywhere lol.

Still have several varieties of neurodivergence (autism, PTSD, anxiety, psychosis, some kind of unclear mood disorder). My brain likes playing it rough. I have healed a lot of trauma, but the other stuff is still a wild ride.

Still don’t plan to be super duper active as I have a scientist day job. But if I ever see a great jumblr post from one of my friends or otherwise, I’d be happy to reblog.

Still hold a lot of nerdy interests: Disney fandoms (Tangled the Series, Encanto, etc.), classic literature (Shakespeare, 19th century European literature), certain manga/anime (Fullmetal Alchemist and Death Note)

Still can be quite critical of the things I enjoy.

About Me (Jumblr Edition):

Favorite Torah character (first 5 books of Moshe only): Tzipporah (I relate to her so much as someone who came into the tribe and a nontraditional wife; the bridegroom of blood scene is iconic)

Favorite Tanakh character: King Shaul (very relatable for me as I feel like I struggle from similar challenges as him: mental health issues, low self esteem, and paranoia) followed close behind by Esther (she’s a role model for me, and Purim is my favorite holiday)

Favorite Jewish Holiday: Purim (relatable message especially for these dangerous times; also a lot of fun while still being a relatively low stress holiday)

Hamantaschen vs. Latke: hard choice but I have to go with traditional poppyseed hamantaschen. They’re older (~1500s) than the potato latke (late 18th to 19th century) and store better.

Areas of interest: Jewish history, Tanakh discussion, Jewish culture (food especially; I love cooking and baking), Jewish learning (especially more about Jewish life in Israel)

What Jewish value can I improve on? Chesed; I find it hard to always express loving-kindness, and my impatience and temper can get the better of me. I’ve been trying to improve on these for the past two years but 5784 has been especially trying.

What Jewish value is very important to me: Ahavat Yisrael; it is important that we as a people stay united. United we rise, divided we fall. I admire all legitimate Jewish streams (side note: Messianic Judaism is not a Jewish stream)

Important note: If something says #goyim don’t touch, listen and obey! Don’t even try with the antisemitism.

[shewasverynice]

Fandoms: 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen 

⚠️ SPOILER HEAVY ⚠️

Major Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death 

Full tags/warnings on Chapter links post

Major Characters: Original Character, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Ieiri Shoko, Yaga Masamichi, Nanami Kento, Haibara Yu, Tsukumo Yuki, Choso

‎‧₊˚✧ Chapter 55 ✧˚₊‧

Satoru dreamed of crushing darkness.

It pressed down on him, an impossible weight, as if the entire planet had settled onto his chest. He strained against it, muscles trembling, but he was too weak—far too weak. His arms shook, his breath came in ragged gasps, and when he looked up, he didn't see sky or stars—only the vast, unrelenting mass of the world bearing down on him.

His eyes snapped open with a start, a sharp inhale whistling through his nose.

Sunlight filtered in streams through the purple blossoms of the wisteria tree above him. The scent was sweet, the air warm. And there, perched cross-legged on his chest, was Sarah, watching him with a small, curious smile.

For a moment, he just stared at her, disoriented. Then he exhaled, pushing his blindfold up like a headband, letting it rest in his messy white hair as he blinked up at her.

"You looked like you were having a bad dream," she said, tilting her head.

Satoru huffed a laugh, rubbing his face. "Yeah. Felt like the whole world was trying to flatten me."

Sarah hummed, unbothered. "Sounds unpleasant."

He grinned, despite himself. "A little."

She leaned back then, reaching behind her to scratch behind the ears of the massive beast lying beside them—Saturn, his fur thick and soft, his presence warm and grounding. The great huff of his breath ruffled Sarah’s hair as he nuzzled against her affectionately.

Satoru watched them for a moment before speaking again. "Hey, Sarah?"

"Mhm?"

"How did I even get here? To… this place?"

She paused, considering. Then, with a shrug: "You asked Saturn."

Satoru blinked. "That’s it?"

"That’s it."

He laughed, shaking his head. "Huh. Guess I expected something more dramatic."

Sarah smirked. "Sorry to disappoint."

A breeze stirred the wisteria petals, sending a few drifting down around them. Satoru caught one between his fingers, studying its delicate shape before letting it go.

"So," he said after a moment, "is this place Heaven?"

Sarah leaned back on her hands, gazing up at the endless blue sky. "I’ve been calling it Elysium," she mused, "But Heaven works. Nirvana, too, if you wanna get fancy."

Satoru raised an eyebrow. "You don’t know?"

She shrugged again. "It’s supposed to be a safe haven. A place guardians can bring their charges to when things get bad out there." She gestured vaguely beyond the trees. "But honestly? It’s way emptier than I think it should be. I’ve never seen anyone else here."

Satoru frowned. "No other guardians? No other… whatever you are?"

"Not a soul."

He exhaled slowly, letting that sink in. Then, with a wry grin: "So it’s like the moon in those Buddhist stories? The one with the palaces and stuff, except no moon people?"

Sarah tilted her head, considering. "Kinda, yeah. There’s definitely palaces. And gardens. And way too many empty houses." She sighed, stretching her arms above her head. "But at least it’s quiet."

Satoru watched her for a long moment, the way the pinkish sunlight caught in her hair, the way Saturn’s massive body rose and fell with each slow breath.

"Yeah," he murmured at last, lying back in the grass. "Quiet’s nice."

Satoru was just about to close his eyes again when a chorus of voices—smooth, ancient, and wrong—slid into his mind like a blade between his ribs.

"You let her walk away and into the darkness, Satoru Gojo."

He jerked upright with a snarl, head whipping around. "The hell—?"

Sarah, still perched on his chest, lost her balance with a yelp as he moved. Without thinking, Satoru caught her mid-slide, pulling her into his lap as his eyes locked onto the figure standing beneath the wisteria’s branches.

Its face was uncovered this time, skin pale as bleached bone, and its horns—four feet long, spiraling like twisted ivory—weren’t just protruding from its head. They grew from where its eyes should have been, roots of bone sinking deep into hollow sockets.

Satoru’s grip on Sarah tightened instinctively.

"What the fuck are you?" he demanded.

The thing tilted its head, horns casting long shadows across the grass. "You know what I am," it murmured, its voice echoing not in the air but directly in his skull. "You’ve seen my kin before."

Sarah shifted in his lap, frowning. "Masami," she chided, voice still a little too light, a little too distant. "Don’t antagonize Satoru!"

Satoru ignored the way his pulse jumped at Sarah using his first name so casually. (Since when did she—? No, focus.) Instead, he glared at the spirit. "What did Suguru do to her?" he bit out.

Masami didn’t move. "Do you still intend to protect her?"

The question hit like a punch. Satoru’s jaw clenched. "What the hell kind of question is that?"

"A simple one," the spirit replied. "You allowed her to leave. You allowed her to be taken advantage of. I only wished to know if your resolve remains."

Something hot and furious coiled in Satoru’s chest. "You don’t get to—"

"Satoru." Sarah’s hand pressed against his arm, her fingers cool. "It’s okay."

He looked down at her, really looked. Her eyes were clear, but there was something… off. A sluggishness in her movements, a faint glaze over her usual sharpness. Like she wasn’t entirely here.

His anger twisted into something colder. "What did he do to you?"

Sarah blinked, then shrugged. "Dunno. Don’t really remember." She patted his cheek absently.

Masami’s voice slithered through his mind again. "She is safe here. For now. But the rot lingers."

Satoru’s fingers twitched. "Then I’ll cut it out."

The spirit didn’t respond. It simply watched him with its eyeless, horned face before turning away, melting back into the gnarled bark of the wisteria tree.

Silence settled over them, broken only by the rustle of petals in the wind.

Sarah yawned, leaning against him and pushing him back against the trunk of the tree. "You’re warm," she mumbled.

Satoru exhaled, forcing his shoulders to relax. "Yeah," he breathed, "… thanks."

But his mind was already racing. Satoru couldn’t relax.

The encounter with Masami had left his nerves alight, his mind churning. He stared up at the wisteria blossoms, their purple hues bleeding into the gold of the sunlight, but his thoughts were far from peaceful.

Then Sarah shifted.

She sat up slowly, her movements languid, and looked down at him with half-lidded eyes. The dappled light played across her face, softening her edges, making her look almost ethereal. Something warm and unfamiliar curled in Satoru’s chest.

Without thinking, his hand lifted from the grass, fingers twitching slightly before he reached up. His knuckles brushed her cheek, slow and tentative, before he caught himself and started to pull back.

Sarah didn’t let him.

Her hands shot up—clumsy but determined—grabbing his wrist before he could retreat. She forced his fingers to splay open, then pressed his palm flat against her face, leaning into it with a sigh.

Satoru blinked. Then laughed, startled. "What’s that about?"

She shrugged, her cheek still smooshed against his hand. "Feels good."

He snorted but didn’t pull away. Her skin was warm, her breathing steady. For a moment, he just watched her, the way her lashes fluttered when she closed her eyes, the way her lips parted slightly as she exhaled.

Then his amusement faded.

"Sarah," he said, voice lowering. "What’s going on with you?"

She hummed, tilting her head like she was considering the question. "Dunno," she murmured. "Feels like I’m on ecstasy or molly or something. But, like… without the bad side effects."

Satoru’s eyebrows shot up.

One: Sarah had done drugs?

Two: What the hell was happening to her now if not drugs?

His fingers twitched against her face. "You’ve taken ecstasy?"

She waved a hand dismissively. "Yeah it was fun."

He opened his mouth—then closed it. That was a conversation for another time. Right now, there were bigger concerns.

"So you’re just… like this?" He gestured vaguely at her. "Floaty? Happy? Spacy?"

"Mmm. Yeah." She finally released his hand, but instead of sitting up properly, she just flopped forward, draping herself over his chest again. "Everything’s soft. And warm. And I don’t wanna move."

Satoru exhaled sharply. His fingers curled into the grass. "This is Suguru’s doing, isn’t it?"

Sarah didn’t answer.

He looked down at her, but her eyes were closed, her breathing steady. Asleep—or something like it. A shadow fell over them. Saturn loomed above, his massive head lowering to sniff at Sarah before rumbling deep in his chest.

Satoru gritted his teeth.

Rot lingers, Masami had said.

And if Sarah wasn’t going to tell him what was wrong, he’d just have to find out himself.

Satoru held his breath as he carefully shifted beneath Sarah’s weight. She was dead to the world—limp and boneless, her breathing slow and even. He slid one arm under her knees, the other supporting her back, and lifted her with the same effortless ease he always carried himself with.

Saturn huffed, his massive head swinging around to watch as Satoru deposited her onto the beast’s broad back. The creature’s fur was thick enough that she sank into it slightly, curling instinctively into the warmth.

Satoru patted Saturn’s flank. "Stay with her."

Saturn chuffed again, this time with clear annoyance, his golden eyes narrowing.

Satoru waved a hand dismissively. "Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re not a babysitter." He smirked. "But you are the best pillow around besides me, so… there's that."

Saturn exhaled through his nose—a sound that was almost a sigh—before settling down, his body forming a protective half-circle around Sarah.

Satoru turned away, sliding his hands into his pockets as he started down the hill.

Elysium stretched before him, vast and dreamlike. The grass beneath his feet shimmered faintly, as if dusted with crushed opal. The trees, the flowers, even the distant structures in the hazy horizon—everything had that same otherworldly glow, a pearlescent sheen clinging to the edges of reality.

It was beautiful.

And painful.

Even with the blindfold, the Six Eyes strained against the sheer brightness of this place. He’d tried lifting the fabric just for a second earlier with them on—just to see—and had immediately regretted it. The light here wasn’t just visual; it was alive, pulsing with a density of energy that made his head throb.

He’d get used to it. He had to. But for now, the blindfold stayed.

The further he walked, the more the landscape shifted. The wisteria grove gave way to rolling fields, then to scattered ruins—white marble pillars half-swallowed by vines, archways leading nowhere, all of it pristine yet abandoned. No people. No voices. Just the whisper of wind through empty streets. Sarah had said this place was supposed to be a haven. A refuge for guardians and their charges.

So where was everyone?

His footsteps echoed as he passed through a crumbling courtyard, his fingers trailing along the edge of a dry fountain. The air here was thick with something—not quite magic, not quite time. Just… waiting.

Then, a sound.

Faint. Deliberate.

Footsteps.

Satoru went still.

They weren’t Sarah’s. They weren’t Saturn’s.

And they were coming closer.

A slow grin spread across his face.

"Finally," he murmured. "Something interesting."

He turned—just as a figure stepped out from behind a broken column.

And for the first time since he’d arrived in Elysium, Satoru froze.

Because standing in front of him—

Was himself.

The figure in front of him was him—same white hair, same lazy smirk, same infuriatingly perfect posture. Even the way it had its hands tucked into its pockets was a flawless imitation.

For a long second, neither of them moved.

Then Satoru narrowed his eyes behind his blindfold.

"Okay," he drawled. "Is this some kind of lesson? Humility? Hubris? ‘Oh no, Satoru, look at your own arrogance staring back at you’—that kind of thing?"

The other him cringed. Visibly.

Then it took a step back, its form flickering like a reflection in disturbed water.

Satoru threw up a hand. "No, no, no—don’t just leave all mysterious! That’s my life lesson! At least commit to the bit!"

The figure shuddered, then shimmered, its edges dissolving like smoke. In a blink, it wasn’t Satoru anymore—just a small, hunched creature with the same horned, eyeless face as Masami, but younger, scrappier. Its tattered burlap robe hung off its bony frame, and when it hissed at him, it sounded more like a disgruntled cat than anything truly threatening.

Satoru grinned.

Before it could dart away, he lunged, snagging the back of its collar and lifting it up like a misbehaving kitten. The creature flailed, its too-long limbs kicking uselessly in the air.

"Alright, little nightmare fuel," Satoru said, shaking it slightly. "What the hell are you?"

It stopped struggling. Then, in a voice that was equal parts raspy and petulant, it muttered, "I am ancient. I am immortal."

Satoru nodded. "Cool. But what are you?"

Silence.

The creature slumped. "...I don’t know."

Satoru blinked. Then burst out laughing.

"Oh my god," he wheezed, lowering it just enough that its feet could barely brush the ground.

The creature hissed again, but there was no real heat in it. "I have always been here. But the others are gone. The guardians. The charges. The ones who tended the groves. Only the hollow ones remain."

Satoru’s laughter died.

"Hollow ones?"

The creature gestured vaguely at itself, then toward the distant trees where Masami had vanished. "We are... echoes. Left behind when the rest faded."

Satoru studied it for a long moment. Then, gently—far more gently than he’d ever admit—he set it back down.

"So you copied me because…?"

The creature straightened its robe with as much dignity as it could muster. "You are the first real thing to walk here in centuries. I wanted to see if you were worth remembering."

Satoru smirked. "And?"

The creature tilted its head. Then, after a beat, it reached up and poked him in the chest.

"You’re too loud."

Satoru threw his head back and laughed.

"Yeah, yeah. I get that a lot."

The creature eyed him for another second before turning and shuffling away, its tattered robe dragging along the marble. Then, just before it vanished between the pillars, it paused.

"She is not supposed to stay here," it said quietly. "The girl. The rot is in her, and if it spreads, the land will reject her."

Satoru’s smile vanished.

Before he could respond, the creature was gone.

Satoru wandered deeper into the hollow heart of Elysium.

The temples were vast, their towering arches and grand staircases carved from marble so white it almost hurt to look at—even through the blindfold. But inside, there was nothing. No altars, no offerings, no echoes of prayer. Just empty halls where footsteps should have worn grooves into the stone, where voices should have hummed against the walls.

He moved on.

The manors were worse.

Gilded doors swung open at the barest touch, revealing ballrooms with no dancers, kitchens with no fire, libraries with no books. The floors were spotless—not a speck of dust, not a single crack—but the emptiness was suffocating. It was as if the entire realm had been prepared for inhabitants who never arrived.

Or who had left.

A flicker of movement caught his eye.

Another one of the hollow creatures lurked at the edge of a garden courtyard, its horned head peeking out from behind a column before darting away. Satoru didn’t bother chasing it. He’d seen enough of them by now to recognize the pattern—pale, eyeless faces, tattered robes, a presence that felt more like a shadow than a living thing.

They reminded him of Hanami.

Not exactly, of course. Hanami had been strange, but undeniably alive—a cursed spirit born from humanity’s fear of nature, its body marked with bark-like patterns, its energy thick with the pulse of growth and decay.

These things? They were wrong.

No markings. No breath. No sense of anything beneath their skin but a yawning, endless absence.

Like they were caught between death and something even emptier.

Satoru tilted his head, recalling the tree spirit—Masami—with its long, elegant green robes. The one back at the temple base had worn red and blue. Maybe that meant something. Maybe the ones who still had purpose wore the remnants of their past, while these hollowed-out husks were left with nothing but burlap and whispers.

He exhaled, running a hand through his hair.

"This place is a graveyard," he muttered.

And yet, it wasn’t. Because graveyards remembered the dead. Elysium just… waited.

A breeze stirred, carrying the scent of wisteria from somewhere far away. The hollow creatures watched from the shadows, neither hostile nor helpful.

The sun had begun to dip by the time Satoru made his way back to the wisteria grove, casting long shadows across the shimmering grass. Saturn lay exactly where he’d left him, a massive, bright shape curled protectively around Sarah’s sleeping form. The beast lifted his head as Satoru approached, dark eyes blinking slowly before he huffed in acknowledgment.

Satoru reached out, scratching between Saturn’s ears absently. “Good job, big guy.”

Then his gaze fell on Sarah.

She was still out cold, her cheek smushed against Saturn’s fur, one arm dangling limply over his side. The unnatural euphoria hadn’t worn off—if anything, she looked even more at peace than before, her breathing deep and even.

For a moment, Satoru just watched her. Then, with a quiet sigh, he reached over and shook her shoulder gently.

“Hey. Sleeping beauty.”

Sarah stirred, her nose scrunching before she blinked up at him, dazed. “...Satoru?”

“The one and only.” He grinned, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’ve been out for a while.”

She yawned, stretching like a cat before pushing herself upright. “Mm. Felt nice.” Her gaze drifted past him, toward the distant horizon of Elysium, and for a second, her expression flickered—something almost wistful. Then she shook her head and smiled. “We should head back.”

Satoru’s fingers twitched at his sides. “Back where?"

“The compound,” she said, as if it were obvious.

His chest tightened.

He tried to keep his face neutral, but the frown crept in anyway. “You want to go back there?”

Sarah tilted her head. “It’s where I live.”

“It’s where Suguru took you.” The words came out sharper than he intended.

She didn’t flinch. Just studied him with those too-calm eyes.

Satoru exhaled sharply, his fingers twisting together restlessly before he slumped, shoulders dropping. “...You don’t have to go back,” he muttered, looking away. “You could come to my place instead.”

Silence.

Then—

A pair of arms wrapped around him, pulling him into a hug so sudden he nearly stumbled. Sarah buried her face against his shoulder, her grip tight.

“I don’t want you to be sad,” she mumbled into his jacket.

Satoru froze. Then, slowly, his arms came up around her, his hands pressing against her back like he was afraid she’d vanish if he held on too tight. He closed his eyes, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat.

“...So you’ll come?” he asked, voice quieter than he’d ever admit to anyone.

Sarah pulled back just enough to smile at him. “Yeah. I’ll come.”

He grinned—real, this time—and tugged her closer. “Great. ‘Cause my place has way better snacks.”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

Satoru’s home was exactly as he’d left it—sprawling, immaculate, and almost entirely devoid of life. He'd bought it with the intention of moving in once he graduated, but since everything had gone haywire it had sat unused.

The entrance hall was all high ceilings and polished floors, the kind of space that echoed with every footstep. A few pieces of minimalist furniture were scattered around, more for show than function, and the walls were conspicuously bare. It was the kind of place that looked like it belonged in a magazine, not like somewhere anyone actually lived.

Satoru scratched the back of his neck as he held the door open for Sarah. “Uh. Welcome, I guess.”

She stepped inside, her eyes scanning the emptiness with mild amusement. “Cozy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said with a grin.

Behind them, Saturn huffed impatiently, his massive snout pressing against the doorframe. There was no way he was fitting inside at his usual size—not unless they wanted to demolish half the wall.

Satoru smirked. “Sorry, big guy. You’re gonna have to wait out—”

Pop.

In the blink of an eye, Saturn’s towering form shrank—collapsing down until he was no bigger than a chihuahua, his tiny paws clicking against the hardwood as he strutted past Satoru’s feet with his head held high.

Satoru stared.

“…Okay,” he said slowly.

Saturn shot him a look over his shoulder—one that was absolutely a menacing grin.

Satoru narrowed his eyes. “You’re housebroken, right?”

Saturn’s tail flicked.

Sarah, meanwhile, had already wandered further inside, her fingers trailing along the cold marble of the staircase banister. “You really don’t live here, do you?”

Satoru shoved his hands in his pockets and followed her. “Eh. I’m busy."

“Busy avoiding your own house?”

“Busy being awesome,” he corrected, though the deflection was weak even to his own ears.

Sarah didn’t call him out on it. Just hummed and turned toward what was probably supposed to be the living room—a vast, empty space with a single, untouched couch.

Saturn trotted ahead of her and leaped onto the cushions like he owned the place.

Sarah flopped down next to Saturn, scratching behind his tiny ears. “He’s cute like this.”

“He’s smug like this.”

Saturn yawned, showing off a mouthful of needle-sharp teeth that were definitely not proportionate to his current size.

Satoru pointed at him. “See? That’s a threat.”

Sarah just laughed, leaning back into the couch and Satoru watched her for a moment before exhaling. Maybe this place didn’t feel like a home yet, but with her here? It was a start.

Satoru’s phone was out before Sarah could even ask what was for dinner. He plopped down beside her on the couch. “Alright,” he said, thumb scrolling through delivery apps with the speed of a man who had done this many times before. “We’ve got options. Terrible, glorious options.”

Sarah leaned over his shoulder, her chin nearly resting on him as she peered at the screen. “Fried chicken.”

“Obviously.”

“And cheesy fries.”

“Duh.”

“And—” She paused, squinting. “Is that a mountain of tiny chocolate parfaits?”

Satoru grinned. “It’s called the ‘Sugar Apocalypse.’ They only deliver it if you sign a waiver.”

Sarah’s eyes lit up. “We’re getting it.”

Ten minutes and a truly irresponsible amount of food ordered later, they’d commandeered the massive, barely-used TV in the living room. Some trashy reality show was playing—the kind where people screamed at each other over petty drama while the camera zoomed in aggressively on their contorted faces.

Sarah was enthralled.

“This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen,” she said, shoveling a handful of fries into her mouth. “Why is she crying over a sandwich?”

Satoru snorted, lounging sideways across the couch. “Because it’s perfection, Sarah. Art even. You don't just eat a man's sandwich like that.”

Saturn, still tiny and curled up between them, let out a small, demanding chirp.

Satoru glanced down. The beast’s golden eyes were fixed on the piece of fried chicken in his hand with unnerving intensity.

“...You’re not gonna bite my fingers off, are you?”

Saturn blinked innocently.

With a sigh, Satoru broke off a tiny piece and held it out. Saturn snatched the chicken with surprising delicacy, his tiny ears wiggling in what might have been satisfaction.

Sarah watched the exchange with amusement. “You’re such a softie.”

“I am not—”

“Snack dealer. You'll make him fat.”

“It’s bribery,” Satoru insisted, tossing another piece Saturn’s way. “So he doesn’t eat me."

Sarah laughed, leaning into his side as the TV blared another round of absurd theatrics. The glow of the screen painted her face in shifting colors, her smile brighter than it had been in days.

For a moment, Satoru just watched her.

Then he nudged a ‘Sugar Apocalypse’ parfait tower toward her. “Here. Before it melts into a diabetic puddle.”

Sarah grabbed a spoon and dug in with zero hesitation.

Satoru couldn’t stop staring.

Sarah was demolishing the food in front of her with the single-minded focus of a starving squirrel. Her cheeks were slightly puffed as she chewed, her eyes darting between the TV screen and her next target—a piece of extra-crispy chicken that she snatched up with her fingers, nibbling at the edges before taking a bigger bite.

It was ridiculously cute.

He propped his chin on his hand, elbow resting on the arm of the couch, and just… watched. The way her nose scrunched when she hit a particularly spicy bite, the way she licked a drop of honey mustard off her thumb without thinking, the way she hummed when she tasted something she really liked—it was all so her.

“Do you have a second stomach or something?” he blurted out.

Sarah paused mid-bite, shooting him a glare. “Don’t tease me.”

“I’m not,” he lied. “I’m just impressed. You’re putting away more than me!”

She huffed, grabbing another fry. “I’m just hungry."

Satoru’s smirk faltered for half a second. Then, before he could stop himself—

“Was Suguru feeding you?”

The question came out sharper than he meant it to.

Sarah didn’t seem to notice, though. She just shrugged. “Obviously.”

Satoru’s fingers twitched. He forced himself to relax, slouching back into the couch with an exaggerated pout.

Sarah rolled her eyes. “Why? So you could judge my eating habits?”

“No,” he said, without thinking, “because you filled out so nicely and—”

Ohhhh shit.

Oh no.

His brain screeched to a halt.

Sarah froze, fry halfway to her mouth.

Satoru’s face burned. “F-forget I said that.”

A beat of silence.

Then—

Sarah giggled.

Not a laugh, not a snort—a full, giggling sound, like he’d just said the dumbest thing in the world. She covered her mouth with her hand, shoulders shaking, and Satoru wanted to vanish into the floor.

“I’m sorry,” he groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “That was—I didn’t—”

“You’re so cute,” she wheezed, still laughing.

Saturn, still curled up between them, let out a tiny chuff that sounded suspiciously like amusement.

Sarah wiped at her eyes, still grinning. “For the record,” she said, voice laced with mischief, “yes. Suguru fed me three meals a day and snacks, thank you.”

Satoru made a noise that was definitely not a whine. More like a grumble.

She leaned over, bumping her shoulder against his. “But your junk food is better.”

He peeked at her through his fingers. “...Really?”

“Mhm.” She popped the last bite of fry into her mouth.

The night stretched on in a blur of junk food wrappers, ridiculous TV, and a surprisingly competitive round of thumb wars—which Saturn "judged" by batting at their hands like a tiny, chunky referee.

At some point, Satoru found himself sprawled across the couch, head tipped back as a yawn cracked his jaw.

Sarah nudged his leg with her foot. "Tired?"

He waved a hand dismissively. "Nah. I'm fine."

She raised an eyebrow. He grinned, but it was ruined by another yawn.

Sarah rolled her eyes and stood, grabbing his hand. "Come on."

Satoru let her tug him up—then, with a theatrical groan, let his full weight slump against her. "Oops. Guess I am tired."

Sarah staggered, bracing herself as he draped himself over her like a boneless cat. "Sa—toru—"

"So tired," he sighed, pressing his forehead against her shoulder.

She huffed, shoving at him. "You—stand up!"

He let her struggle for a second longer—just long enough for her to start genuinely pushing—before suddenly bolting for the stairs.

Sarah yelped. "Hey!"

Laughing, Satoru sprinted down the hallway, socks skidding on the polished floors. Behind him, Sarah gave chase, her footsteps pounding on the tile.

He slammed into the bathroom door, throwing it open with a flourish—then spun to face her just as she skidded to a stop behind him.

For a second, they just stood there, breathless and grinning.

Then Satoru reached for his waistband.

Sarah's eyes went wide. "Wait no—"

With a shit-eating grin, he turned toward the toilet to piss.

"Satoru!" She clapped her hands over her eyes, spinning away as he cackled. "You're gross!"

"Biological necessity!" he called over his shoulder.

She fled, laughing, her footsteps disappearing down the hall.

By the time Satoru emerged—still snickering—Sarah was already perched on the edge of his bed, arms crossed. "Rude."

He leaned with one hand on the mattress beside her, grinning down at her. "You ran like I was summoning a curse."

She kicked his leg lightly. "If anyone has a cursed dick, it's you."

"Some might call it a curse," he said, rolling his head to one shoulder to smirk at her.

Sarah sighed—but the corner of her mouth twitched. Satoru's chest warmed. Satoru watched, transfixed, as Sarah arranged the pillows with meticulous care—fluffing one, squishing another, then stacking them just so against the headboard. She peeled back the sheets and slid beneath them with a soft, satisfied sigh, wiggling slightly to settle in. It hit him then, with sudden clarity: Oh. Right. The guest room exists. He’d fully intended for her to sleep there. Or, at least, that’s what he should’ve done. But here she was, in his bed, like it was the most natural thing in the world. And then Saturn—still the size of a chihuahua—hopped up onto the foot of the bed, circling twice before plopping down with a contented hmph. The sight punched the air from Satoru’s lungs. It was stupid. It was so stupid. But something about it—Sarah nestled under his covers, Saturn curled at her feet, the dim glow of the city lights filtering through the curtains—made his chest ache. Like this was how it was always supposed to be. Pathetic, he scolded himself. Since when do you get sentimental over bedtime? But the thought dissolved when Sarah peeked at him, one eye open. “You just gonna stand there all night?” Satoru exhaled, shaking his head. Screw it. He climbed in beside her, careful to leave polite space between them—enough that she wouldn’t feel crowded, enough that he could pretend he wasn’t aching to close the gap. He turned onto his side, back to her, and squeezed his eyes shut. This is fine. This is— Fingers brushed through his hair. Sarah’s touch was tentative at first, barely there—just the lightest scrape of nails against his scalp. But then, when he didn’t pull away, her fingers curled more firmly, carding through the white strands with a rhythm that made his breath stutter. He should’ve teased her. Should’ve made a joke about her getting domestic. But instead, he found himself shifting, turning toward her like a flower to the sun. His head came to rest lightly on her chest, ear pressed just above her heartbeat. He held himself there, rigid, ready to move if she so much as tensed— But she didn’t. Her hand just kept moving through his hair, steady and sure. Emboldened, Satoru let his arm drape across her middle, his fingers curling loosely into the fabric of the sheets beside her. Sarah hummed, low and warm. “Better?” Oh, God yes. “Mm.” He nuzzled closer, his nose brushing the dip of her collarbone. Her heartbeat was steady under his cheek. Her fingers never stopped their gentle strokes. Satoru felt warm—not from some stupid sweets or game or whatever stupid thing had his free time hostage and not from exertion, but from something quieter. Something softer. He sighed, sinking into it. And before he could even think to fight it—Sleep took him.

Prev Main Next

Taglist: @inthedarkshadows000

[theberriesncream]

dot anon again! sorry about the confusion with the anon thing before. i just wanted to do something special, but dot anon is just as cool of a name! annyywhoooo.. i find it really awesome how you include wikilus in your g&b lore!! i've never seen people include him in their g&b fanons so it's a really unique thing :3 i quite like how you write family drama. speaking of unique, tell me about your jean and jacob lore. seeing a universe that doesn't have the commonly accepted father-son jean and jacob headcanon makes me curious as someone who also has that headcanon. its fun to see other people's takes on them even if its not the mainstream hc, if you understand what i'm saying. ^_^

Sup dot anon!

You can see around my blog I LOVE the NPCs.

Wikilius counts as one despite not being in game. I also love the other Ferrymen too and the Brig-Sloop. I even add the Bell Guy from the Roscoff beta testing too. My ocs are canon in my fanon too since I am in a rp with two friends on Discord and the NPCs are there too.

Anyway about Jean and Jacob headcanon I don't really see it. They're are just Two French men who had the same initials on their names and in older versions of the game they were part of the same regiment long time ago, which in my opinion is... that's all? They just share some characteristics, and you think they're family. Not offense, Dot Anon. U can still have that headcanon despite me not liking it. Something you really need to know is that I disagree with canon and popular fanon. (There are times that I can agree with popular fanon in case is a smaller fandom or the headcanons are intrested) creating my own fanon at once. Also Gaspard is some replacement or equivalent to that hc Jean ig?

So yeah... About Jean. I am not sure if Jean being a polite man who cares about others is main stream even if I disagree with fanon too dosn't mean I can take stuff about it. But yeah he is also that but the exception Jean has trauma beofre even the Napoleonic wars or the Blight  events happend. He raised in bad environment only being guide by his aunts during his childhood and teens seeing how people can act if despair is everywhere. Jean promise to take care of his aunts who where the only people that he trust and not only them but people who is in need. When he joined the war, he was cautious with everyone else but thanks to his optimistic views he gain respect to his regiment. The Blight expands around Europe and Jean and his regiment meet members of the 2ème Régiment du Génie and guess who was there too!

Jean saw Jacob bieng taking advantage of to take all the work the other members of his regiment don't want to do. Something that make him feel bugged out and confront Jacob for it. Jacob not used to people approaching him out of nowhere, he just explained that he needs to work in case the cannibals attack both armies and kept working. Jean won't he would remain with his arms crossed and makes sure Jacob takes care of himself and catch a break. During this time Jacob slowly begin to trust Jean even finally open to him and concider him as a friend. Until both regiments have to go by their own paths. Separaring the two friends in a war between the undead and the living.

Until the two finally reunite in Roscoff bucz Survivor AU.

Jean is basically the dopamine producer of this AU along Barry and other of my OCs and Jacob (and Millard) is force to have a overdose of it beacuse I have traumatized him a lot!!

Thier relationship is just Two friends that help each other and like to chat a lot. But they're times Jacob again forgot stuff so Jean (Barry, Klaus, Christian, Bell guy and my OCs also do the same thing with) him has to remind him that he dosn't have to overwork himself a lot.

Another wall of text, Dot Anon. Thanks for having genuine interest on my fanon g&b u know how happy i am infodump about them!

I will always be greatful!

[papirouge]

i am afraid asking this is going to come off as “what aboutism”/calling out but full disclosure this is not my intention! it’s genuine confusion on my part. i agree that we shouldn’t look for christian messaging in secular media when it’s clearly not intended to be there. however, don’t you watch and consume secular content since you reblog it? do you just enjoy it and ask God if it’s okay and to protect you from any bad intentions it might contain? because as proven with The Chosen and Narnia, even content made by Christians can be questionable (it’s a kinder word because I don’t want to go OT lol). i’m just confused because while i understand we as Christians shouldn’t not be part of the world, is the line we cross is only when we become obsessed with secular media that we forget about God? consuming media as a hobby is definitely doing that and i wish Christians would get that when they make fandom accounts and engage in problematic behavior like looking for Christian messaging to make themselves feel better, especially when said stuff is intended to turn us away from God by showcasing sin as something admirable. do you find that consuming secular media here and there as long as God doesn’t give you a sign that it’s not what He approves of and you are not blinded by the messaging is what is okay? i know He speaks to us differently, so i’m curious what do you think He has said to you about your interests?

hopefully this is all makes sense. God bless you and your blog!

"don't you watch and consume secular media since you watch it?”

Nope, because don't have TV, Netflix or any streaming service 👀

I very seldomly watch movie. I don't play video games but YouTube walkthrough are very handy way to see what a game is really about to make an educated take on it. But when I do, it's only a one timer, and I don't engage in fandoming and shit like that. For a matter of fact, I'm extremely interested in the Five Nights At Freddy lore because there are a bunch of plot elements & subliminals pointing towards the pro life fight and calling out (ritual) child sacrifice (Scott Cawthon the creator of the game denied it ofc he's not stupid - he got canceled for being a registered Republican so I can't imagine if publicly he admitted being pro life lol). That being said, I'm not stupid to the point of going to watch the movie adaptation (a horror movie). And more importantly, I'm not posting FNAF shit everyday saying the lore is aKtcHualLy about God....🙄 See the difference? There's a fine line between entertaining stuff for objective interest....and full on entertaining evil.

If anything, it's not Christians watching secular media making me 'irk', but rather them desperately trying to shoehorn Christian theme into it. Not every secular activity is evil (there's nothing wrong doing sports, playings or reading newspaper - for example I LOVE watching documentaries), but projecting God into stuff that's absolutely nothing to do with holiness is very twisted. I also don't understand the concept of shoving Christianism into medias openly promoting paganism and middle eastern religions such a Star Wars...

Mind you, they are the same one complaining about how everything is too woke but somehow they'll never stop watching the same shows and streaming on the same website pushing for that trash. That's the cognitive dissonance for me...

I definitely think that God can show us that things are definitely not done for us, but this warning can also come in the form of other Christians. I myself super glad I stumbled upon videos from Christians warning against horror movie, worldly music, braids, make up, head covering, etc. Jesus isn't going to appear to you to tell what to do or not to do - he may also use actual Christians (his body) to lead you to the right way.

God speaks to us differently but He will not contradict Himself. He won't say to every Christians to not entertain foreign gods, wear the veil, and not wear makeup....and then allow Western Christians to see movies glorifying paganism, wear make up and whatnot.

The snowflake complex of western Christians is really annoying.

[boggie-things]

What kind of YouTube videos I think the older teens would make in a modern au

Robin:

- multi hour long rambles about obscure black and white movies literally no one has heard of

- her video on a lost queer coded film from the 50s sparked a fandom for it so big they ended up finding it.

- she probably ends up as part of an ARG after she covers it when no one else knew about it at some point

Nancy:

- True crime, but done right

- her videos are more about the victims than the crimes, she talks to family members and friends to get stories and sometimes she doesn't even mentions the criminals by name bc they don't deserve the recognition

- her magnum opis is a multi-episode series about the victims of Hawkins, specifically Barb.

- she also makes videos about government cover-ups and stuff. Her channel has been threatened a couple times and even taken down once but she still does them, albeit rarely

Steve:

- Vlogs!

- I think he'd make videos on, like, his routines, going to the gym, hair care, etc.

- but also lots of videos of him & the kids + his friends just goofing off and having fun

Jonathan:

- got kinda stuck with Jon but a few ideas are:

- music history (the stories behind songs & bands), vlogs as well (more angeled towards him just talking to the camera as apposed to Steve walking around and doing stuff) maybe some deep dives into songs and other things he likes. Idk honestly

Argyle:

- obscure conspiracy theories and weird history mixed with random videos where he judges pizzas recipes his viewers send in

- he's almost always high in his videos but it just adds to the vibes

Chrissy:

- stuck between gaming (animal crossing, the sims, dead by daylight occasionally) and mental health talks/self care

- maybe both! Def a calm, chill space though

- I feel like she'd stream more than actually post so alot of her stuff would be vlogs!

Eddie:

- Critical Role style videos for HF

- occasionally he makes covers for songs & posts some CC og songs

- maybe some pranks?

[victimized-martyr]

9 and 10 for the ask game? 👀

9. worst part of canon

bc of sp’s writing schedule many many episode storylines feel unrefined. there’s really great ideas and banger gags but sometimes the execution leaves me sayin “x y z could be wrapped up a lil tighter” but I know better than to say the solution to that is more time— bc trey is just as liable to let an idea overcook and premises overstay their welcome (streaming wars 😅)

10. worst part of fanon

i’m boutta make this post very dated but there’s a slew of antisemetic dogpiling from specific fans of style towards jewish kyman fans rn on twitter. so definitely the animosity between shippers that cross into reality is what I’ve always hated about fandom. this is coming from a ennea 1 but I hate how black and white morals are made out to be online, esp. in regards to shipping fictional characters of all things. ok, maybe if I gotta boil it down, it’s the lack of nuance and openness to communication. bc i’ve been mostly on the sidelines watchin stuff go down and i’m like y’all… learn to talk w/ ppl or learn to ignore. There’s gotta be more productive ways to spend all that energy, why focus so much on hate?

edit: my post-work mush brain realized too late that fanon ain’t the same as fandom, but since we’re going with the theme of black/white unawareness: How the nuance of the boys end up being stripped. I see that kyle ends up takin the most Ls what with him bein reduced to some form of a stereotype for the sake of ships whereas the other boys usually remain somewhat recognizable..

[aonorunic]

The Claiming - An Original Work for Monster March

Summary: Sheen knows her time is short, knows that if she wants to save her home she must undergo a sacred rite to obtain the power she needs. As a druid, Sheen also knows exactly what that rite entails. She can only hope that a spirit powerful enough to help her answers her call.

Characters: Sheen (Druid)/Forest Spirit

Rating: Explicit

Contains: Sex Magic, Druids, Monster Fucking

AO3

Notes: The only entry I think I’ll be able to finish for Monster March. I’ve had Sheen in my head for awhile, and am really glad I finally got to write a bit for her backstory. I know I usually do more fandom stuff, but I hope you guys enjoy this slice of original work.

Sheen felt no fear as she crossed that familiar threshold between dirt and moss. The trees had always acted as a barrier between the world she was born into and the one to which she felt drawn. For as long as she could remember the mothers of the village told stories of things that lurked in the forest, ready to snatch disobedient children into the dark boughs never to be seen again. Yet as those old swaying limbs wrapped around her, Sheen felt more a homecoming than a capture.

Her bare feet picked a trail she had walked a thousand times, eyes and ears alert. Here she was both predator and prey. As comfortable as she was, she knew better than to let her guard down; especially today of all days when she would walk further into the forest than she had ever gone before.

A sharp breath sucked between her teeth when her foot met the chill of a stream. Winter was past, the blossoms of spring dotting the land, but the last of its chill held on, its stranglehold loosened one finger at a time. Sheen took a moment to bend down, cupping the water between her hands and taking a slow sip, allowing that chill to travel through her. The stream moved too quickly for her to see her reflection, nothing more than a blur of her dusk kissed skin and loose ravenwing hair tucked behind her pointed ears. The sharp edges of her elven features were indistinct in the water, the gaze of her grey eyes hidden. She stood, shaking off her momentary pause and pulling the bear pelt closer around her shoulders. There was a task needing done. She had come this far, studied all these years. She would not be denied now.

Further and further into the forest she went, pausing only once more as the ancient trees blocked out all sunlight. This was the barrier she had made for herself, the line she knew she could not cross before she was ready to trade with powers far older than she could comprehend. Today she would do so, else the forest truly would consume her.

Sheen took a deep breath, reaching out to place a hand upon the trunk of a tree. The bark felt familiar beneath her fingers, the knots and tangles mapped out in her mind from the years of reaching this point. But she had always turned back. Not today. 

All it took was a single step.

She paused as she crossed the invisible line she had created for herself, but nothing happened. No terrifying creature came to eat her, no force of nature knocked her off her feet. The steps after felt easier, despite that each took her closer to what may very well be her doom.

And then she reached it, the clearing her mother had once told her of before she had disappeared from Sheen’s life. Even without her mother’s tale Sheen would know she had come to the right place. Branches wove together overhead, reaching the impossibly long distance to their fellows upon the other side of the clearing to create a canopy that blanketed out the sky. Thick moss coated the trunks of every tree, the heavy scent of both decay and growth clouding around her. Grass, thick and soft beneath her feet, grew in a spiral pattern until it shortened and disappeared in the center of the clearing, leaving only a bare patch of dirt. 

Sheen’s eyes swept over the open space, her instincts screaming at her to run. Here she was only prey. With one final deep breath she steeled her nerves, allowing the bear pelt to drop from her shoulders. The rest of her clothes followed, Sheen taking the time to fold them into a neat pile. Perhaps the action was fruitless, nothing more than a stalling tactic, but they were the last moments that were solely hers. 

Completely bare, Sheen faced her goal, the wind stilling with the first step she took beyond the perceived safety of the trees. Their eyes were upon her. She had felt them since the moment she had stepped into the woods, as if they had sensed her intention for coming today, but now there was no cover in which to hide. 

She would not be cowed. She refused. Sheen took each slow step, forcing her limbs not to shiver, to not show the predator her fear, until she stood center within the barren circle. With the same deliberate movements, Sheen knelt and stared straight ahead.

The woods whispered around her, a half second off beat. The crickets chirped in time with one another, a hesitation to the notes that crawled across her skin. Wind strained through the branches, as if scared to carry out its duties. 

A power unlike anything she had felt before crept closer with each step. All the inconsistencies, the reverence of the forest bending toward it, heralded its coming. Sheen struggled for breath as this new darkness came upon her, drawing upon the calm she had felt when first stepping into the forest.

Within that breath power draped around her, wooden fingers settling on her shoulder. Sheen forced herself to gaze forward, knowing if she were to satiate her curiosity it would spell her end. She thought perhaps one of the great animal spirits would answer her, or perhaps one of the more fickle plant sprites. But this was neither. Sheen knew what had answered her beyond any doubt. There was only one being who could command the whole forest like this.

The spirit of the forest themself had come to claim her.

“Long has it been since a druid last sat in this circle and dared to seek our approval.” The voice was the roll of thunder, the trickle of the brook, rolling hills and blooming flower, all rolled into one. Sheen’s fingers curled into fists pressed flat against her legs. Nails bit into skin, the pain a focus to distract from the trembles that wished to run free throughout her bones. 

“She is a hunter,” another voice answered from the edge of the clearing. Sheen caught yellow eyes glaring at her from amongst the trees. Bear, her mind whispered. Given the placement of those eyes the great spirit was easily twice the size of any bear she had come across before.

“An invader,” another voice whispered, hooked thorns raking over Sheen. The trees around her twisted with the words, a trick of the wind to anyone else, but she recognized the truth of the dryad that had joined them.

“Well,” the first voice breathed against her ear, the low rumble stealing the breath from Sheen’s lungs, “what makes you worthy, little druid?”

Sheen took a deep breath, eyes falling closed. This was her trail, everything she had worked for since she first set foot within these woods. She need only claim it. 

Eyes opening, fists unclenched, Sheen stared forward. The fingers against her shoulder remained, the spirit’s patience as unbending as the oak. 

“I have spent my life under your boughs. Though I may be young as a seedling compared to you, these woods have been home and teacher for that short time. I have learned to hunt, yes, from the great bears and wolves sheltered within. I have learned to grow from each tree and flower encountered upon my path. I refute the title of invader. Were you to see me as such you would have chased me away long before now.”

Sheen paused, listening to the growls of grumbles of the woods around her. Always her place was within the forest. For the first time she felt trepidation, the fear it would all turn against her. 

There was a breeze, nothing more, but the chattering died down in its wake. The spirit behind her leaned closer, wood ghosting against her back. Sheen knew they were the cause, an order she could scarcely perceive nor be concerned with. No, she had received her own order to follow, that simple movement beckoning her onward.

“I offer no less than the life you have watched play out before you.”

She bowed her head, allowing the silence to wash over her. Nothing stirred, the forest deathly quiet in answer to her offer.

The moon wheeled above them, Sheen watching the light travel across the clearing. The forest was old, they would move at their own pace and there was nothing Sheen could do to speed the process.

When the spirit finally spoke again their voice sounded of roots ripping from the soft dirt. “And what would you do with my power were it granted to you?”

There it was, the reason Sheen had decided she could not put off her request any longer. “I would be your intermediary,” she answered. No longer did she wish to tremble before the power surrounding her. She could feel it now, the acceptance she first felt when she had first stepped into the woods as a starry eyed child. 

“We need no intermediary!” Bear growled, his voice shaking the trees around him.

“You would dare speak for us?” Dryad hissed, shaking her boughs in rage.

“You claimed me long ago,” Sheen answered their outburst, her words directed to the forest spirit. “Did I misinterpret? Was this not meant to be my home? If it is, let me help you save it now. None of you can leave, but I can. And with your power I can find the source of the darkness creeping at the edges of our home.”

Hiss and growl faded away. Every being seemed to hold its breath, awaiting the forest spirit’s answer. Sheen doubted that anyone had the audacity to ask the spirit a question before. Perhaps in doing so Sheen had betrayed too much of her mortality. 

Or perhaps she had proven she was exactly what they needed.

“You are correct,” the spirit finally answered. “I did welcome you and your starry eyed wonder those seasons ago. Even then I felt the love already building within you for our home.”

Our home.

She had not known how desperately she had wanted to hear that acknowledged.

“A claiming could destroy you,” the spirit warned, offering one last chance for her to turn away. 

Sheen could not help the smirk that tugged at her lips. The forest was not that generous. They would not have offered her the chance to turn away had they not already known her answer. She kept her reverent pose, unmoved in her determination.

The world faded away at the spirit’s pleased grumble. Sheen knew they were still there, would watch this claiming, but none of that mattered. All that mattered was the force of nature around her.

Wooden fingers creaked, closing around Sheen’s sides. She was urged forward onto her hands and knees, breath catching as the spirit spread her legs. She finally let herself tremble as the hands that were more branch than anything else slid down her sides. Heat rushed into her cheeks as need and desire filled her, Sheen embarrassed by just how quickly she reacted. 

The spirit thrust into her without preamble. Sheen gasped at the intrusion, body rigid as her fingers curled into the dirt beneath her. She had learned long ago that nature was not kind and had not expected any preamble to this claiming. 

The spirit slowly pulled from her, Sheen more prepared when they thrust back into her again. She forced herself to keep her breath steady, body slowly adjusting with each movement. 

Even in this the forest would not be hurried, and Sheen was glad for it. Her body began to crave, that desire rising to the forefront once more as she grew used to the feel of her stretching around them. She rocked in rhythm with the spirit, the branches of their body closing around her. And despite all that, the appendage within her was large and hot. The warmth of it chased away the chill in the night air, leaving Sheen drowning in the claiming. 

All too soon Sheen felt waves crashing over her, a riptide current threatening to pull her under. Too soon, she knew, much too soon. She could feel power swelling, could feel the brush of it against her skin, but it had yet to settle. 

Too soon. 

The riptide pulled her under, Sheen gasping and shaking as pleasure rushed through her body. She could feel the disappointment even as she struggled back through a haze of contentment. She would not fail here at the end. 

She would not be satiated by failure.

Sheen was left empty, fingers crawling at the dirt as she fought off the clouds that wished to claim her mind. She could hear the forest around her, knew she was prey once more if she did not act fast. If she could not move then everything she loved would be swallowed in darkness. 

No!

There was a pain in her throat, leaving Sheen uncertain if the word had ripped its way from her throat or simply screamed its echo in her mind. Either way it did not matter. 

Dirt clung to her, rocks scrapped against her, power pressed her down. Sheen struggled against it all, managing to prop one arm under herself. 

Just as she felt the void screaming up to meet her, Sheen did something no mortal had ever done before.

She flipped herself over, back smacking against the packed earth of the ritual circle, and stared up at the spirit of the forest.

Their head was a deer skull, dark pools within empty sockets staring down into her. Antlers twisted upward to frame the stars, taller than Sheen herself. Woods of every tree that grew within the forest twisted together to make their form. Between the branches Sheen could see small flower buds. A curtain of moss fell over their shoulders to create a cloak. For now they stood upon two legs, but Sheen could easily imagine them dropping onto all fours and being no less graceful. Between the growth Sheen spotted the still erect cock that a few moments ago had been within her. It was a dark green with sap dripping from its bulbous head, vines twisted together to form the massive length. Sheen was honestly quite surprised it had even fit within her. 

“Not yet,” Sheen spat between parched lips. She forced her arms up, reaching out inviting to the spirit. “I am not done yet.” 

The power they had already pooled within her tore at her, unchecking and wanting to destroy her. She needed them to settle the storm within her before it ripped her apart.

The forest whispered, their subjects surprised at her audacity, but Sheen heard an undercurrent of emotions she could not quite place, be it pride or pleasure. It was just for her and the spirit to which she had offered everything. 

They bent down over her, once more shutting out the rest of the forest. Sheen’s legs fell to the side, somehow not surprised when the spirit’s large bulk fit perfectly within her offered space. Her arms wrapped around moss covered shoulders, pulling her lover closer. The skull loomed above her, and Sheen once more gave into her mortal instincts. She kissed the lipless face, hand raising up to cup the bone cheek. Amusement ran through her but not from her. Her body clenched around them as their cock entered her once more, the strange emotions, ancient and undefined, of the forest shared with her.

Those same slow thrusts came again, Sheen’s hips rising up to meet them. She gasped as the flow of power stirred once more. The tearing sensation stopped, replaced with the whisper of ancient secrets that wound their way through her soul. Her body burned where they touched her, branches containing the heat of wildfires as they marked her skin. Wooden fingers ghosted down her spine, Sheen’s back arched under the touch, bringing her chest in contact with the spirit’s. They surrounded her, Sheen offering everything to them as the spirit moved within her, amusement licking along her senses. She could almost swear the spirit was laughing at her, but she did not care. In that moment she knew her essence was tangled forever with that of the being that had welcomed her home. 

Sheen gasped as the spirit pulled her to them, body curling as they thrust deeper into her. She was lost in the tangled limbs that encompassed her. They had created a space for her devoid of all predators, where no danger would dare touch her. They thrust into her, once more that tortuously slow pace that had Sheen curling and begging for more. 

It felt different this time, a tease rather than a test. The spirit would undo her yet again, but they went at her pace. They meant to make this journey with her. She could not stop her hands from reaching out, cupping the smoothness of their skull. They moved with her when Sheen urged them closer, bringing their forehead to rest against hers. Her breath mingled with the air surrounding the spirit, the sweet scent of wild flowers steadying her heart. She knew this scent, knew the exact clearing in which they grew. With the spirit's next thrust, Sheen could swear she felt every petal and blade of grass that grew within that clearing.

The spirit nuzzled against her, more curious than affectionate. They measure her gasps, feelings of acceptance and amusement the easiest for Sheen to understand. But her partner's emotions were as ancient as the boughs themselves. Sheen could only begin to wrap her fingers around the enormity of what the spirit shared with her. 

Another thrust, thankfully faster this time, as the spirit slammed itself deep within her. One of Sheen's hands dropped to the ground, fingers clawing at the dirt. She felt , digging deep down into fertile soil, spreading out for miles and miles.

The spirit hummed their pleasure, pleasure derived from her, and in its wake Sheen heard birdsong. Nightingale and sparrow, owl and falcon, robin and jay, all sang within her as they went about their routines. 

Sheen's hips rolled up, meeting the next thrust, wooden limbs scraping the insides of her thighs. The hand still upon the spirit curled around the back of their neck, trees bending toward them as Sheen's senses connected with them. She heard the sigh from Dryad, that whispered hiss full of a strained acceptance. There were words, but all were driven away in the wake of the spirit's claim. 

Limbs came down to cup her backside, lifting Sheen to meet the next thrust powerful enough to knock the air from her lungs. Bear grumbled as Sheen forced air back into her lungs, his strength flowing into her and making Sheen acutely aware of each silent step from the creatures that roamed under bough and bush. 

There was something there, something beyond her ability to explain. The closest her mind could conjure was pride, but she knew the limitations of her language could not fully define what she felt pouring into her from the spirit. With each thrust another aspect of the forest connected to her. Sheen held onto the spirit, her focus and anchor, knowing to lose herself now was to lose everything. 

The thrusts came faster, Sheen's fingers digging into soft moss as she forced herself to hold on. It built upon itself until Sheen could feel herself begin to slip. She ground her teeth, body trembling as the spirit drove her closer and closer back to that edge. It was too much, a cacophony drowning her, power nipping at every nerve in her body. 

Her scream ripped through her, a release of desire and power that left the forest silent in its wake. Warmth engulfed her, the sun shimmering through leaves at the height of summer. It was the completion she had needed, the spirit's power finally settling over her in their acceptance.

Through hazy eyes Sheen managed to stare up into the dark pools of the spirit's gaze. They were patient, waiting the long moments it took Sheen to catch her breath, the air all the sweeter in her lungs after the claiming's success. Eventually Sheen managed to move her shaky legs, allowing them to drop away from the spirit's center. She had not realized just how much she had wrapped herself around them. 

The spirit moved back, their warmth slipping free from Sheen. She trembled as their cock softened and slipped from her, the heat of their seed lingering against her thighs. The spirit offered Sheen a hand, and as she accepted the touch of those branches her mind vaguely wondered at the difference. She could have sworn her hand had been smaller compared to theirs. 

Sheen found herself pulled to her feet, and knew immediately the discrepancy lay with her and not the spirit.  Her head easily came to the spirit's chest now. Leaning upon her partner, Sheen managed to stare down upon her body, seeing the tangled marks that criss crossed her skin, left behind in the wake of the spirit's touch. 

Her head felt much too heavy when she managed to lift it once more. Sheen had to resist the urge to reach up, something that felt rather undignified with the whole of the woods looking upon her, and instead had to settle for staring at her shadow cast long against the grass by the dying moonlight. Elongated antlers topped the shadow, a smaller but no less impressive set to the spirit that stood beside her. 

Breath in. Breath out. Sheen forced herself to simply focus on the air in her lungs as she was presented to the forest. A rumble went through them, an acknowledgement of the connection she now shared with them. She had no idea how long they stood there, the spirit patient as they always were, but Sheen was grateful she managed to keep her footing through it all. 

Only when the echoes of power began to fade away, the marks and antlers shimmering from existence, the spirit now all the taller to her, did they finally let her kneel once more within the circle. 

Moss had grown in the wake of the spirit's spilled seed. Sheen let herself drop, knowing she had nothing to fear. When she woke her journey to protect all she loved would begin anew, her chances all the better with the spirit's blessings at her fingertips. 

As she drifted off, cloaked in the comfort of the forest's strength still singing in her soul, Sheen could swear she felt the touch of gentle branches brushing her hair back. 

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

I’ve seen people shut down all critique of the lore stream as “people expecting a moral like a kids show!”, and while I’m sure that there’s some people saying that, I think that’s a misunderstanding of the issues a lot of fans have.

There’s a difference between not having an intentional moral, and simply handling a topic that's incredibly personal and traumatic to a lot of people in a way that’s uncomfortable, and I think the latter is what I've seen a lot more of. Having a dark ending isn’t bad, but the issue was people seeing the framing as placing all the responsibility of understanding on c!Tommy- the abuse victims- shoulder while glossing past c!Dream doing things like laugh at his suicide attempt and continue to torture him in ways he knows are extremely physically and mentally agonising to c!Tommy, and c!Tommy apologising for essentially being a troublemaker being treated like he's the one in the situation that committed some unimaginable sin, and the way he placed blame on himself there was unclear enough it could easily be misunderstood as him blaming himself for his own abuse.

Now, obviously, none of these are intentional issues, and the CCs we’re trying their best, but these things are not only uncomfortable to a lot of abuse survivors but accidentally perpetuate dangerous myths about abuse in a way where the narrative framing portrays it as correct. Many victims are expected to be the ones to forgive their abuser and treated like they’re more at fault, and any sort of imperfection and slip up is used as an excuse to justify their harm, and these are implications that should be avoided. Not spreading dangerous misinformation isn’t the same as having a moral lesson, and unfortunately, this sort of rhetoric hurts people and seeing it reinforced is an understandable thing to critique, though people going after the CCs and being aggressive are crossing the line.

More than that, I’ve seen the issue be raised at the appalling treatment the finale got by the fanbase, and that’s also a worthy critique. Some of the stuff I’ve seen victim-blaming c!Tommy has come so close to the exact same sort of stuff I’ve had used against me that I’ve genuinely started crying, and I usually have thick skin to this sort of stuff. The fact that it’s being normalised to call c!Tommy and c!Dream mutually abusive, or to describe the harm they caused each other as in any way equivalent, or say that it justified and provoked the abuse c!Tommy experienced in any way at all is not only genuinely concerning to see spread unironically by a fanbase of vulnerable teenagers who don’t have the best knowledge on this shit and show no sign of realising that this wouldn’t be okay in real life, it makes the fanbase extremely inhospitable to abuse victims, and it’s unfair to expect THEM to have to leave something that’s a form of comfort when they’re not doing anything wrong.

Fiction is not the same as reality, but also every piece of fiction- from the smallest piece of hobbyist writing to multimillion dollar blockbusters- has its effects on reality. And most of the time that’s positive! Most of the time it’s spreading joy and positivity! But it can also cause harm, and it’s important to acknowledge that in a nuanced fashion instead of treating a very serious issue that real life people are effected by like a lore discourse issue- and I’m saying that to everyone.

Like c!Dream and sympathise with him all you like! Enjoy the finale all you like! Find your own catharsis in it all you like! There is no wrong way to enjoy media. But, if you’re going to be handling sensitive issues around people who might be effected, it’s important to try and show some compassion to those who might be hurt by it- and online, that means you’ve always got a chance of being around people like that. Messing that up by accident isn’t your fault, or a moral failing, and the CCs shouldn’t be condemned, but people genuinely hurt by it or the fandom's response meanwhile aren’t doing anything wrong for being upset, as long as they don’t use that to harm others.

[thefanficmonster]

Faux Innocence

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None

Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Having the reputation of the innocent angel in the group, one could never imagine Y/N being such a badass impostor and expert liar but here they have found themselves fooled by the angel who wears that halo just for show.

Requested by @kpopgirlbtssvt Hello hun! Here’s the other request you sent me, I’m really sorry it’s been so long and you’ve had to endure such a long wait until it’s posted but here it finally is and I hope you enjoy the read! Love, Vy ❤

“They’ll be done for in no time! Right, babe?“ I stick my foot out to the side, nudging Corpse’s leg.

There most certainly are pros and cons when it comes to sharing a gaming/streaming/recording room with me, and the whether the constant pestering is a good or a bad thing is still up in the air. I mean, yeah Corpse rolls his eyes every now when I do it, but I’ve also caught him smiling about it out of the corner of my eye. Bottom line, I do it to invite that almost childishly mischievous smirk on his face. That’s the ultimate reward.

And ok, yes, I’m also the one trying to peek over the barrier separating out computers to peek at his screen to see if he’s impostor or not, but he tolerates that bad habit of mine. Well, he sprays water my way or gently whacks me with a pillow, but I consider that toleration. It’s a playful little dynamic we have going on, one we don’t have to perform today since we’re impostors together.

I cannot recall a time that has happened before. In fact, I can say I’ve been paired up as impostors with everyone but Corpse. I personally think it’s a practical joke the game’s algorithm is pulling on us, seeing as how we’ve been dating for quite some time now. I mean, that’s the only way to explain this coincidence of never being impostors together.

Looking at the subject now, it may be hella beneficial for us considering no one would suspect us both to be impostors together. Everyone is in on this ‘misfortune’ of ours and it’s honestly hilarious but Corpse and I are about to rip them a new one, I just know it.

“Oh, definitely! I’m the risky half, but they’ll never suspect you so we’re 100% winning this.“ He replies, sending a wink my way. He’s vaguely surprised when I return it with a narrow-eyed look.

“What’s that supposed to mean ‘they’ll never suspect you‘? I’m a great impostor! Is that you questioning my skills I’m hearing?“ I raise an eyebrow, turning my attention back to the screen which displays Corpse and I alone in Electrical, pretending to be doing tasks and waiting on our first victims.

“No! No, not at all. Far from it. It’s just that you are...well, you know...you are you. No one would think you’re the one dishing out all these tactical kills. You always seem relatively interested in the game only to have fun and not to win and....“

“Look sweet and innocent.“ I cut him off, finishing his sentence, “Yeah, yeah, I get your theory.“ Suddenly, I hear Rae’s chipper voice approaching, talking to her chat, I’m assuming. This gives me a rather...interesting idea. With that in mind, I give Corpse a side-glance and a devilish smirk that’s promising trouble, “Let’s test it out, shall we?“

“Wha-?!“ Before Corpse can even say his question fully, Rae wanders into the room, cutting him off with a question of her own.

“Test what out?“ She asks, coming to stand between us, doing her own task.

I’m so sorry, Rae

Before anyone could fathom it, I swiftly kill Rae and report her body, all seemingly in the blink of an eye. Corpse hasn’t even fathomed half of this insanity when he hears an accusation being thrown right at him.

“Corpse, how could you?!“ I cry out, and damn - not to toot my own horn or anything - but I’m pulling off the ‘distressed friend-witness‘ act quite well. I bet Corpse would give me an impressed look or mouth ‘minx’ at me if he wasn’t staring at his screen with his mouth agape. “You were planning to blame it on me weren’t you?!“

“Wait...no! That’s not-It wasn’t me! I swear it wasn’t me!“ He finally finds his voice, croaking out desperate defenses, each cut off by a wheeze of something alike shocked laughter that almost gets me to break out in a fit of my own.

“Very convincing, buddy. He’s definitely innocent, you guys...“ Toast comments just as the ‘VOTED‘ sticker pops up above the icon of his avatar in the meeting.

“Right? How could you even think otherwise?“ Leslie backs him up, the sticker appearing on her icon as well.

“Guys! No, for real, it’s Y/N! I swear on Bingus it’s Y/N!“ He probably should’ve used something more convincing, not that it would’ve worked either way. I’m a ‘trustworthy‘, ‘innocent‘ and ‘honest‘ person, just like Corpse said. Aren’t I?

Mere seconds later, he’s shot off the ship, the screen confirming he indeed was an impostor, automatically getting the blame off me cause no impostor would be dumb enough to out their partner like that, lowering their chances at victory. I don’t consider that a dumb move though - I think it’s rather genius, actually. 

“Don’t worry, Corpsie.“ I give him a wink in return to his death glare, his arms crossed over his chest, looking quite unamused. “I’m winning this one for you.“

We both know I can and I will. Of course I can when I’m given the advantage of faux innocence everyone falls for - in more ways than one, if you know what I’m saying *wink* *wink*

@maat-the-prescriptive  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @itsminniekat  @hacker-ghost  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis  @waterlilypat  @idontknowwhatthisisfam  @evi-ka  @classyandfabulous00  @redperson58  @lilysdaydreams @solowheein  @mythicalamphitrite  @axen-gers  @luckygirl144  @nj01  @buddyemily   @the-albino-lioness  @stardream14  @gdhdkfnn  @nomadicgypsyy  @preciousskye  @fluffysuicideunicornsworld  @o-kaelin  @manacharlotte  @awkward-youtube-trash  @lolalee24  @bonky-beerns  @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian  @strawbrinkofdeath  @teenloves  @tams0527  @browneyespinkhair  @starstruckllamapuppy  @daisychains012  @y0ulooked  @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life  @jula-pauline  @melodykitty  @just-that-bi-girl  @crazybutconfidentaf  @lowellshade @alphakees  @bellero  @weallneednamjesus  @starryhanji  @boiled-onionrings  @husherstan  @fockingwhore  @melaningoddessthings  @prettypastelpetals  @haleypearce  @godwhyamiawkward  @y-napotat  @daisychainyoonmin  @little-miss-rebel3  @free-wheelin-bi-sexual  @redmoon261 @darkacademic2  @wiseflamingoqueen  @into-the-end  @namikhai-i  @nastiablr  @thelittleplantlover  @mirktuan  @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny  @vintagegothlover  @easygoingtheatre  @itsrandombooklover  @miiaivi  @emmybaybee  @befourgolden  @jjk-is-my-shit  @eternalteaaars  @spacebadgerx  @princesslunalight  @acequinn14  @samm48  @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa  @fo-love  @marishimomura-blog  @therealglenncoco  @cinnamonbun332  @killtherandomness  @sanshinexxxsan  @fee-btheweeb  @press-lay  @cathleenpotgieter16  @jazzydoesstuff  @moonlxghtbay  @forestrain2000  @hyunjinhugs  @blood-of-fandoms  @lovellylies  @ukiyolixx  @simpforhpcharacters  @chrisdylan17  @parkerjisung  @pedernille  @theodonyous  @wineandionysus  @malfoystilinskii05  @morbid-x  @coryisagee  @jessewa26  @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365  @raeanneinwonderland  @indecisive-empanada  @gluttonypalace  @loriane2503  @btsiguess-kpop  @khaoticbunny  @lucidlycactus  @smiithys  @rottenroyalebooks  @kpopgirlbtssvt  @fangirl-tc27  @fr0z3n-1  @notmesimpingfortechno  @shotarosleftpinky  @kunoi-chan  @idk-whats-wrong-with-me  @yikeroonie  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @poetry-and-tea  @ama-do-writing-stuff  @wishbonewolf  @emeraldxhope  @t0xick1tty  @kusuinko  @speakyourselfloveyourself  @sophia902103  @lo-manburg  @classsykittykat  @dmgama  @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee  @btsiguess-kpop  @akaashi-baby  @gun-jong-simp  @geschichtenfee  @yerapotato-wp  @browneyedgirl365  @thysagclub  @sparklycloudnight  @helloatomicshadow  @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal  @lucy-bunny17  @aaliyahh0  @katluckybear  @boyleanti  @straybids  @franchesca-791  @cosmicstorm19  @averyisbackinthetrashcan  @aomi-nabi  @xlanawriter  @allensimpsforcorpse

[angelasscribbles]

Bad Romance Chapter 13: Negotiations

Series: Bad Romance

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings for series: Multiple

Paring this chapter: Riley x Liam

Rating: R

Word Count: 3,095

A/N: Special shout out to @21-wishes for correctly guessing Riley's next play.

Warnings for this chapter: none

General blanket warning for series: Smutty, Lemony, Awful, Toxic Relationships with lots of cheating. This is a hot mess express; no one is happy, everyone is in love with the wrong person, every relationship depicted herein is generally and massively fucked up. You’ve been warned.

My other stuff: Master List.

Liam twisted in his seat nervously. Riley had disappeared over a week ago and despite his best efforts, he hadn’t been able to locate her or convince her to return to the palace. She had never been gone this long before.

He had felt confident after their encounter at the Ambassador’s Ball, but he hadn’t laid eyes on her since she had walked out the door after admitting that she still loved him. An admission that was likely the very thing that had sent her running.

She was always running. From her feelings, from him. He sighed as he ran a hand across his face. He knew it was his own fault. Things had been good between them, once.

“These last few weeks have been the most amazing of my life.” She sat cross legged on his bed, a skimpy negligee covering almost nothing as she brought a grilled cheese sandwich to her lips.

“Could have been the last few months if you hadn’t made me work so long to get you to look in my direction.” He said, leaning over to wipe some crumbs from the corner of her mouth.

Her eyes found his as her lips quirked up at the corners, “I looked in your direction.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Mmm.” Was the only reply he got as she closed her eyes, relishing the taste.

It made him happy to see how much she enjoyed something so simple. She really wasn’t hard to please. Not like the women he had grown up with, requiring constant streams of pricey gifts, vacations, jewelry, summer estates…

Not that he wouldn’t give her those things. He would. All of that and more. But she didn’t require it.

“I can’t wait to claim you in front of the whole world, to make you my wife, my queen, to spend the rest of my life making you smile like you are right now. I love you, with everything in me.”

“I love you too, Liam. I’ve never felt like this before. I’ve always been a love ‘em and leave ‘em kind of girl. I don’t know why this is so different. You’ve done something to me that I never thought was possible.”

“I don’t know either, I’m absolutely positive that I’ve done nothing to deserve it, but I’m so grateful for it. I’ll never take it, or you, for granted.”

He was brought back to the present by one of the royal attorneys. “Your Majesty? They’re here.”

He sat up straighter. Yesterday, she had reached out and requested this meeting. A meeting with not just him, but his legal representation. He hadn’t slept last night at all. He was sure she was going to break the marriage contract.

He knew what he’d done had been wrong. He knew he shouldn’t have filed it without her consent, but he had been so damn desperate to hold onto her, to what they had. He had truly believed that she’d come around given enough time and space. Now doubt punched him forcefully in the gut. His stomach roiled with panic as the taste of bile rose in the back of his throat.

She entered the conference room with Rashad in tow.

His eyes widened in shock then narrowed with suspicion, “What the fuck is this?”

“He’s here as my lawyer.” Riley snapped back.

He directed his next question straight to Rashad, “Really, Rashad? I thought we were friends.”

“We are, Liam. But you have the weight of the crown behind you, an entire legal team.” He gestured to the eight attorney’s sitting on his side of the table, “She deserves representation too; she needed the best lawyer money could buy. That’s me.”

Liam frowned, “But she has no money-“

“I’m doing it pro bono; Riley is a friend.” He responded softly, glancing at Riley with unabashed affection.

Liam’s eyes flicked back and forth between them. Friend. Right. And he was the idiot that had pointed her in Rashad’s direction the night she’d told him about Drake. His lips pressed together in a tight line as he leaned back, steepling his fingers under his chin in an attempt to calm his jangled nerves and suppress the rising anger and panic.

Rashad was the best. Liam had tried for years to get Constantine to hire him. If his father had listened, this wouldn’t be happening. If Rashad worked for the crown, he wouldn’t be able to represent Riley due to the conflict of interest. But now one of his oldest friends sat across the table from him, ready to use his formidable skills against him.

“Hm. Ok.”

Rashad nodded, “First things first. I need to ascertain that there are no other competing documents, preexisting contracts etc.”

“I can assure you there aren’t.”

“Really? What about Madeleine?”

“What about her?”

“What happed to the marriage contract from that engagement? I’ve always wondered how you got out of it.”

“I never signed one.”

“What do you mean you never signed one? I thought that was pretty standard after you chose at the end of the social season.”

“It is. I just refused. I kept finding reasons to postpone. Revisions that needed to be made, resources that needed inventoried first, scheduling conflicts….I was never going to marry her. I was never going to marry anyone but Riley.” His eyes cut to her, “I just wish I could make Rileyunderstand that.”

“Very well. We should get started then.” Rashad passed out copies of the paperwork he’d brought to Liam’s legal team then he sat a copy in front of the king. “This is the petition to terminate and invalidate the marriage contract, for cause. If you’ll flip to the end, you’ll see sworn and notarized statements from multiple women willing to testify as to their explicit sexual contact with you, which is a clear violation of the terms of the contract.”

Liam leaned forward in astonishment as he flipped through pages and pages of sworn affidavits. “How did you get them to agree to this?”

Riley gave him a satisfied smile, “Oh, all I had to do was play the part of the devoted, yet betrayed fiancé. Once I summoned up a few tears, they all crumbled.”

Liam felt himself start to sweat. There was no way around this. The contract was clear. Of course, he could counter claim using her infidelity against her, but there were two problems with that course of action. One, that would still invalidate the contract, something he most certainly did not want. And two, he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt that neither Max nor Drake would testify against her.

As his legal team consulted with each other, Riley got up and sauntered over to the drink cart to pour herself a drink. Looking over at Liam and Rashad, she asked, “You guys want anything?”

Rashad shook his head no.

Liam was too busy trying to get his breathing under control to respond. She poured a glass of bourbon and brought it to him. She slid the glass across the table to him, and he took it gratefully, gulping it down.

“Riley, please, can we just talk? Without all this-“

“I don’t want to file those papers, Liam.” She said as she peered at him over the top of her own glass.

He froze as hope surged through him, “You don’t?”

She shook her head, “No. I’ve had Rashad draw up two completely different sets of papers. It’s entirely up to you which ones we file.”

Liam’s brows drew together in confusion, “Up to me? What do you mean?”

Rashad leaned forward and handed him another set of papers. One of the royal attorney’s reached across the table and Rashad slid a stack of copies over to him to pass out to the rest of the team. Liam glanced down at the papers in his hand, “What’s this?”

“This is an amended marriage contract, Your Majesty.” Rashad explained, “With a few minor revisions and the addition of a Cordonian Arrangement.”

Liam froze, his expression slipped into blank face diplomat mode as conflicting emotions collided inside him. She wanted a Cordonian Arrangement? Of course she fucking did. But also, she wanted to amend the marriage contract. Amend, not terminate.

He leaned over to the lead attorney and quietly conferred with him for a moment before returning his attention to Rashad, “What kind of revisions?”

“For starters, the transfer of Valtoria needs some tweaking….” Rashad droned on for several minutes about finances and other details Liam could care less about. That’s what the legal team was for.

Finally, he interrupted, “Assuming I agree to this, how do I know you won’t just use this information against me later?”

Rashad nodded in understanding, “If you’ll look at page 42 of the amended contract, it clearly states that any indiscretions, on the part of either party, prior to the date the amended contract is signed and filed, are forgiven, can in no way be used against either of you or used to terminate the new, amended contract nor can any third-party be punished for their participation in, or knowledge of, said indiscretions.”

Liam blinked. It was a genius move. It enticed him to agree by taking away her power to get out of the contract. It protected not just him, but her from the consequences of all prior actions as well as granting her the freedom to continue to take lovers with impunity and it protected both Drake and Max in one fell swoop. Not to mention Hana and possibly Rashad.

He felt anger swirl through him, but underneath it, he was impressed. It was brilliant. She was brilliant, she’d make a remarkable strategist, the thought of her using that intellect for the benefit of Cordonia excited him. He made a show of thinking deeply for a few minutes. He already knew he was going to agree, but he wasn’t going to just roll over.

“I have a few modifications of my own.” If she wanted to protect her lovers, she was going to have to make some concessions.

Her eyes narrowed, “Like what?”

“You’ll move back into our suite immediately. And you’ll sleep there. I may not be able to control what you do during the day, but you’ll be in my bed at night.”

“The same rule should apply to you too. Contingent upon us both being here of course. As long as neither of us is absent for business or an emergency. Otherwise, you’d have to fly back home every night during lengthy diplomatic trips.” She kept an absolutely straight face as she said it.

His eyes narrowed. He knew what she was doing. Leaving herself a loophole. “Right. We will sleep in the same room any time we are both present at any of the royal residences or Valtoria, which will be every night excepting absences for legitimate business and emergencies.”

“Or vacations.”

“Which we’ll take together.”

She covered her face with the papers she was holding as she leaned over to quietly consult with Rashad, but not before he caught the smug smile that tugged at the corners of her lips. She wanted him, but she wouldn’t admit it, she liked it when he issued orders that she had no choice but to comply with. It let her give in without admitting that she wanted to. Without admitting that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. God, he wanted her. The fact that there was a negotiation going on as opposed to termination proceedings told him that he’d been right all along. She wanted him too.

“I’ll spend five nights a week in our suite, and you’ll allow Hana back into Cordonia.” She countered.

“You’ll spend every night there, and I’ll allow Hana back into Cordonia.”

“Six. Hana. And I’ll agree to the honeymoon you wanted.”

He leaned back in his chair as he thought about that. Two weeks on a private island, alone. No Drake, No Max, just the two of them. “Fine. What other changes were made?”

“I have control over my own staff.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, if I want to hire Maxwell Beaumont as an advisor, I can. You won’t interfere with decisions that pertain to my personal staff.”

“Riley,” his voice was tight, “You ask too much, you go too far.”

“Agree to all of it and I’ll pick a wedding date.”

He froze. She’d just delivered the coup de grace to his resistance and they both knew it. A wedding date meant an actual wedding, as opposed to her stalling and rescheduling forever.

“One last thing, you’ll give Kiara that diplomatic post she wants and send her as far away from Cordonia as possible. I want that bitch on the other side of the globe.”

“Fine. But I pick the wedding date and we put it in the contract before it’s filed.”

Riley shook her head, “I pick the date. It can go in the contract.”

“We’ll pick it together, right now.”

“Fine. I’m thinking next year when-“

“I’m thinking next week.”

“That’s not enough time for any-“

“Fine. Next month.”

“Six months, we have to plan-“

“We can hire planners. Three months.”

“Four because-“

“Two.”

“Ok, three.”

“Six weeks.”

“You said three a minute ago!”

“And you’re testing my patience! You push and push and push. You have to give a little.”

She sat back in her chair, thinking for a moment. She glanced at Rashad then over to the line of lawyers on the other side of the table, then back to Liam. “If we do two months, that puts us close to Christmas-“

“Perfect! A winter wedding! We can do a winter wonderland theme. What day in December?”

She stared at him for a moment as she tried to squash the stupid leap in her heart at the image of the grand ballroom draped in winter finery and Liam in full regalia, standing at the altar waiting for her.

“The week between Christmas and New Year?” Her tone more tentative as the image refused to budge.

“December first.”

“The week before Christmas….”

“December fifth….my mother’s birthday.”

Shit. She held his gaze for a moment, then simply nodded.

“Splendid!” Then to his legal team, “Can you get all the legalities taken care of and tied up by then?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. We’ll get to work right away drawing up the new contract with all the revisions discussed here today.”

“Perfect! If there’s nothing else-“

Rashad interrupted, “Obviously I’ll be involved in drawing up the paperwork with changes discussed here today and once my client has signed off on them, we can file.”

“Once both parties have signed off on everything, you mean.” The head of Liam’s legal team responded.

Rashad inclined his head toward the man, “Of course. There is one last thing. The matter of the rumors swirling in the media about the king’s infidelity. Liam needs to issue a public apology to the women from the affidavits and to Lady Riley-”

“Absolutely not!” One of his advisors began, “The king cannot-“

“It will alleviate-“

“These women will all be paid to sign NDA’s and these affidavits will be shredded or the new contract will not-“

“He needs to address-“

“He cannot give credence to baseless rumors!”

“You know they’re not baseless-“

“Without proof, they are! As far as the public knows-“

“I’ll do it.” Liam interjected softly.

“Liam.” The man sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “You can’t…”

“If that’s what Riley requires to get past this, then I’ll do it. I’ll issue the apology.”

“The hell you will!” Riley exploded. Every head in the room whipped toward her.

Rashad leaned over, placing a hand on her arm, “Riley, this is what you want, it will-“

“This is not what I want at all!” She spun on him in fury, and he pulled away from her in shock.

“I don’t understand, the apology will-“

“The apology will make him look weak! Don’t you see that? He is the king of Cordonia! What he does in his personal life has no bearing on his effectiveness as a leader! He’s a good leader! The only person he has to answer to for whatever goes on in our relationship, is me!”

“Yes, but-“

“There are no buts. There is no proof without my cooperation. I won’t give it. You can’t confirm anything in those affidavits without my authorization, right?”

“Right. Of course, I wouldn’t! But if the press gets someone to talk publicly, even one-“

“Then I’ll say that Liam and I have always had an agreement, that the addition of the Cordonian Arrangement to our marriage contract was just a way to make it official. I’ll tell them that he has done nothing wrong, and that everything he has done was with my knowing consent!”

Rashad stared at her in disbelief for a moment then understanding dawned on him and he nodded, “Of course. My apologies. I withdraw the suggestion.”

“We’ll need every copy of those affidavits.” One of the lawyers spoke up.

“Yes, and you’ll have them, as soon as the amended contract is signed and filed.” Rashad replied.

“Then I think this meeting is adjourned. Unless there’s anything else, Your Majesty?”

“No. That will be all. You can all go.” Liam responded to the man, but his eyes never left Riley, who was pointedly not looking at him.

Rashad stood and pulled her chair out, offering her his hand. She took it and squeezed it as he helped her to her feet, “I’ll walk you out.” She told him.

“Riley, wait.” Liam made his way around the table to her.

Rashad’s eyes went to hers and she nodded. He nodded back, “I’ll wait for you in the hallway.”

She watched as Rashad followed the royal legal team out of the room before turning her body in Liam’s direction.

“What?” She asked, eyes on the floor. She still hadn’t made eye contact with him since her outburst.

His fingers reached out to brush the back of her hand, his voice quiet as he said, “You protected me. Again. And here I thought you enjoyed tormenting me.”

She scoffed softly, finally meeting his eyes as she gave him a small smile, “I do. But you’re mine to torment, no one else’s. Besides, you play chess, so you should understand.”

“What should I understand?” He whispered, voice full of longing.

“Protecting the king….it’s what the queen does.” She reached out and gave his hand a squeeze then quickly dropped it and hurried out into the hallway.

[jestbee]

Do you want to elaborate about the forth wall braking? Is it about all the things that people bring up to creators and make them aware of? Or something more?

Yeah, essentially fan activities should take place in fan spaces. Fans don't put it in creator's faces, but equally creators should stay out of fan spaces.

Fans shouldn't mention fic, or art, to creators

And creators shouldn't look at shit that wasn't intended for them. It's about you (or, the persona fandoms know, you'll never know them as an actual person) but it isn't FOR you.

But people want 'notices' now, they want to be mentioned on stream, or do shit that means they have control over creators in a tiny way. (Them making a certain video, saying a certain thing on stream etc etc) and in fact the platofrms have been.buolt to encourage it! Just give me ten dollars and ill be forced to answer your question, wish you happt birthday, do your bidding.

Every time a creator gives a fan a mic during a live show/broadcast I have to turn it off because no. I didn't come here for you, I came here for the creator and the content they make. It's the same way that i feel fans shouldn't be responsible for plot lines on shows becuas otherwise it becomes fan service, and shit, and your entire fan base will never agree anyway because they are not a monolith so creators (either ccs or showrunners) are better to create art that they want to with fans involved. They can take suggestions for inspiration, I guess, but don't pinpoint A Fan for the idea.

Even if that means you get Sherlock s4. Which broke my heart. But also that's on me for being emotionally attached to it, my opinion shouldn't mean anything to the creator of it.

It does mean that I don't watch Moffat shows anymore, but I'm not sending him my opinion and crossing the wall to tell him that, and he isnt going into spaces to listen to what I have to say. I'm just curating my experience by avoiding stuff he writes. I'll write fix-it fic and share it with other disappointed fans, and Moffat will create whatever he wants to create and never the two shall meet.

It's impossible at this point to go back, but I do wonder at what point it will crash and burn, because it will. Without a fourth wall in place then the fandom just ends up in-fighting about which part of it creators are listening to or are interacting with, or they think the fan base Represents the creator in some way rather than having a wall between them which means they have nothing to do with each other.

It's interesting to watch from a distanced perspective, but as someone who's been doing fandom for 20 years I do wonder whether the changes that have taken place are for the better as people seem to enjoy fandom less these days. Or at least, I do, when I allow myself to be subjected to anything outside my little curated circle.

[nobodylivesson]

Bad Boy(Pt.2)

Fandom : Marvel

Pairing : Peter Parker x Top! Male Reader

Requested? No

-Previous/Next-

 »»————>❃<————««

The incident after that spread through the whole school like a wildfire and everyone were either dumbfounded or fascinated by this but one thing they all decided was that won’t fuck with [Y/N] or his friends.

Flash also started to avoid [Y/N] like a plague.

It was so interesting and shocking to see the all arrogant Flash Thompson to meekly reply back to [Y/N].And everyone else can definitely see how much [Y/N] enjoyed seeing this while face which didn’t seem to hide his smirk.

“You purposely greet him in the corridor every morning right?” MJ asked [Y/N] during lunch causing the male to smirk

“Well it’s so fun watching him squirm under the pressure.My father did got a call from someone trying to apologize but I told him to ignore it~ I’m sure this might have caused Flash to have a very very good talk with his parents~” [Y/N] said with a chuckle

“You are a total sadist” MJ said with an unbelievable look in her eyes but [Y/N] just chuckles before saying “It’s not being called sadist but bringing arrogant filled assholes who think they are the kings to their right place”

“That a very specific line,you have done this kind of stuff before?” Peter says with a chuckle and [Y/N] smiles a little.He really likes seeing Peter smile it just has an effect on him every since he saw it the first time

“Well it seems I’m a really good magnet for assholes but I don’t mind being a sadist just for you if you want Pete” [Y/N] says before bringing out his accent to the last part and ah,how much he enjoys seeing Peter going all red over this face,neck and ears

“WHA-WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?!Don’t joke about stuff like that!!Le-let’s go Ned!!” Peter says as his face burns like fire and Ned also quickly gets up before hurriedly saying “By-bye MJ!!You to [Y/N]!!”

Both of the said people waved back while [Y/N] had a teasing grin which Peter surely saw as he seemingly picked up his pace and quickly went out the room while Ned ran after him telling him to slow down

[Y/N] chuckles as he watches this when he sees MJ looking at him with narrowed eyes so says with a confused look “What?”

“Stop teasing Peter we know what you tow are but you don’t need to tease him like that ” MJ says with a sigh to which [Y/N] with a closed eyes smile while crossing his legs and keeping his left hand on his mouth “I don’t know what you mean by knowing “what we two are” but you don’t how much I just love seeing his ears turn all red and he has this cute habit of shuttering and playing with his hands when he is very embarrassed”

[Y/N] opened his eyes and his eyes lingered towards the place where Peter once sat and he just couldn’t help but chuckle more

“Sigh,you don’t need to hide it from us and you don’t understand,Peter is to innocent unlike you” MJ said 

“What the fuck are you talking about MJ?Say it clearly cause I really don’t know what you meant by ‘tow of us’” [Y/N] says with a frown as he started to get annoyed now

MJ opens her mouth but after observing [Y/N]’s face shut it with widen eyes

“No actually forget about whatever I said” MJ says while closing his book and getting ready to go from there as she tried not to make eye contact with him

[Y/N] keeps his eyes on her before saying with a shrug “Okay then whatever the fuck that was,I’m outta here.Not in the mood to attend anymore classes today” his annoyance lacing in his voice and he then just took his stuff before going away from there without saying goodbye for MJ

MJ looks at his walking figure of [Y/N] and thinks “Oh god,don’t tell me-No way.I just hope this doesn’t bring any trouble to us” before sighing

»»————>❃<————««

[Y/N] was annoyed for sure

“What the hell is wrong with MJ?? First she asking me about something between me & Pete and then she refuses to say what it is.I know it’s kinda low to tease Peter but he isn’t even gay so what’s the harm and can’t she tell me her reason of being annoyed by it.I just find finding messing with Peter very interesting......” [Y/N] angrily mumbled before he trailed of as he watched the lights of the different buildings in New York turn on

After getting annoyed,[Y/N] decided to ditch school and after searching the city for a while(also with help of the information Peter gave him),he found out a building whose rooftop he could go into without any problems.The building also gave a very decent view of the city

So what better way to blow of some stream than than sorting your thoughts out in front of this beautiful view

So [Y/N] sits at the roof while looking at New York while he started to slowly sort his thoughts one by one

Along with Peter and MJ,[Y/N] mind has been filled with father along with..........his mother and the secret between them

“No need to wreck my brain with school problems,the old man is again eating my head about giving some thoughts to becoming his successor.But I have already told him enough times that I’m not interested in it and that he can find someone more suitable,damn it!Then those bastards had put me in their club performance again without telling me.Maybe I should really have a talk with them.And then eomma’s date is also coming..........Sigh,guess I have to l look after appa and give Mr.Sung a break” [Y/N] thinks with a frown

Mr.Sung was [Y/N] dad’s personal secretary but in the boy’s eyes he looked more like a personal babysitter

[Y/N] was so invested in his thoughts that he didn’t heard the sound of someone slinging to his spot and was really startled when a voice suddenly said “Wasn’t expecting someone here”

[Y/N] looked behind to see a very curious sight of a guy in a red and blue latex suit which also had a black spider logo in his chest.He was also wearing a red mask with white eyes

“Who is this guy?Wait is he-” [Y/N] who was confused at first suddenly realized before saying “Are you The Spider-man?” with a curious voice

“The one and only neighborhood hero at you service.You must be new here,I haven’t saw you before around the city” Spider-man says while taking a seat beside [Y/N] after making sure he was okay with it

[Y/N] chuckles before looking at the hero while leaning back as a smirk adored his face and said “I don’t think you need to know everyone who goes out and in of the town.It seems to much of a work to be added after the amount of work you do”

Spider-man chuckles like he was embarrassed as he says “But as a hero I should remember people of the city I’m trying to protect.And you seemed very familiar with the city to be able find this place.So I thought how I never saw you around as someone like you......really leave a impression”

[Y/N] blinks a little before ends up laughing and puts his index finger under the mask face of the hero making him look towards [Y/N] as he brings his face close to the hero’s

“I didn’t knew that Spider-man thought I was so impressive.I’m happy that the neighborhood hero is saying these kind of things so openly.I like people like those” [Y/N] says while licking his lips making the hero immediately pull back

[Y/N] for some reason felt that the hero would be blushing like crazy and he wanted to just rip of that mask but decided to not do something so stupid

“Y-you shouldn’t tease people like that!A-and I asked to forget but who told you about me?” Spider-man says as he tries to move the conversation to something else

[Y/N] laughs but complies “Well as you had said earlier,I’m not from here and had just moved here along with my dad.And so someone who I’m close with showed me around the city.So then he told me about this new hero who had emerged.It was also because of him that I was able to catch sight of this place.I’m very grateful of him when he showed me around the city and also being a great friend”

“He seems like a good friend” the spider hero quietly says and leans closer to the Asian boy as if expecting some kind of answer which [Y/N] noticed but decided to slid it off

“Good friend......huh?” [Y/N] mumbles as he looks towards the city before with a smile says “I guess so or maybe a little bit more”

Spider-man immediately goes back and in a shuttering voice says “I-I s-see.Al-also shouldn’t you be telling all this stuff so easily?We just meet today”

“My friend told great stuff about  you and I believe him,so there’s no need for me to be wary of you” [Y/N] casually says as he goes through his contacts to message Mr.Sung to pick him up later

“I-I see” the hero replies and a silence falls between these two

“I wanted to ask this earlier but don’t you have other important things to do than talk with a teenager?” [Y/N] finally asks with a questioning look making the hero look at him

“Well I had a break and was just looking over the city when I saw you.You looked very concerned and so just wanted to make sure you were alright” Spider-man says making [Y/N] chuckle

“Well some shit has been going on so I was just thinking on how to sort them out” [Y/N] says to which the hero quietly says “Well if you want you can talk with me about it”

“No it’s fine.It’s not that important to involve someone like you to this” [Y/N] says while closing his eyes making the hero quietly look at the boy

“Well then how about your friend?If you trust your friend,I’m sure he would be happy to talk and listen to you.That’s what friends are for” the hero says making [Y/N] look at him with an unreadable look

But before the hero could say anything [Y/N] started to laugh loudly making Spider-man surprised

“Thanks so much.I guess I need something like that.I will see if I want to tell him about it.I guess you are a hero in all sense” [Y/N] says with a grin to which Spider-man replies “Glad could help you”

But Spider-man couldn’t stay anymore as he hear loud noise from a distance making both [Y/N] and the hero look towards that direction

“Looks like duty calls” Spider-man says to which [Y/N] says “I guess I should also get going”

“Well if you ever need a shoulder to cry,a ear to listen and a mouth to talk to.I’m always there” Spider-man says making [Y/N] laugh which confused the hero

“You remind me of that friend for some reason.The way you act,your voice and also you........never mind I might be wrong as well” [Y/N] says with a shrug when he sees the hero becoming a little stiff before relaxing

“Hahaha,don’t joke like that.Well see ya” Spider-man says before saluting towards [Y/N]

The hero then jump from the roof with a flip and then slings toward the direction those noises came from as [Y/N] looked at the retreating figure of the hero

“Well,that was unbelievable.Just meet Spider-man and even though it was odd,he really reminded me of Peter.Well,eh how would be possible?Am I going out of shape these days for slacking at my practice?Guess have to start following my routine again.And talk with my friends,huh?” [Y/N] thinks before looking at the sky which was dark now

»»————>❃<————««

Peter leaned against the wall of the building as he could hear loud booming noise from inside.He just couldn’t believe he agreed to come to this kind of place all for [Y/N]

“Hey Pete!So I have a performance at this club with a bunch of people I know.Don’t worry I would make sure ya don’t drink anything unnecessary and you are safe.The only problem is that Ned and MJ won’t be able to come due to some other stuff,so you up for it?” was all [Y/N] had to say to Peter before the boy with a blush on hi face agreed

Now here he was waiting for that handsome-he meant good looking friend of his!!

Peter just couldn’t help but have a blush creep onto his face for the unknown time just from thinking about [Y/N]

He was really to deep into this thing and he just remembers the conversation he had with Ned and MJ during [Y/N]’s absence

“Dude I think you are being very obvious there” Ned says making Peter ssh him

“Quiet it down Ned!I’m sure if [Y/N] were to see my face he would make more fun of it!An-and I don’t know why I’m like this around him!!” Peter whisper shouts as they make their way towards their next class

But then he sees Ned making an are-you-serious face before saying “I couldn’t believe mate!!You don’t know why?!Me and MJ thought you knew the reason” making Peter stop in his tracks

“Y-you and MJ know my reason of being like this?!!” Peter says with widen eyes before putting his hands on Ned’s shoulder and started shake him

“Come on Ned tell me the reason why” Peter says while still shaking Ned who says “A-ah st-stop sha-shaking m-me first!” before finally breaking free from his grip

 “Mate,that was really unnecessary but I don’t know if I should tell this...” Ned didn’t continue when he sees MJ coming towards them making him jump before saying “Great!!MJ is here and [Y/N] is not with her!!Let’s hear this from her yourself!MJ comes here!!”

MJ notices how frantically Ned was calling her so she goes towards them before saying “What are you two idiots-” but couldn’t complete when Ned says “Peter doesn’t realizes what he feels towards [Y/N]”

A long pause came between them but before MJ sighs and says “To the library right now” as she starts walking while Ned drags Peter towards it,their class long forgotten

“I can’t believe both of you’re so dense” MJ immediately starts after they had gotten a area good for private talk

“Why are you scolding me??I just don’t know okay!” Peter hissed to which MJ sighs

“Have you told [Y/N] about you being bisexual?” MJ asks first making Peter widen his eyes before mumbling “No,I didn’t get the right moment to....”

But both Ned and MJ heard it loud and clear so making both just sigh more

“Oh Pete,we both thought you two already became a thing and that’s why so much flirting.We didn’t knew you two were still in the pinning stage” Ned says making Peter choke at air

“WHAT?!!” Peter shouts while standing up only to be sushed by the librarian making him sit down with an embarrassed face

“I meant,what the hell are you thinking about?!Just cause I’m Bisexual doesn’t mean I would have a crush on him!I mean yeah I find him attractive and yeah he is kinda cool when he fights of bullies like a hero.But that’s not gay just friendship.I don’t think his accented voice making me hot is strange cause like who doesn’t get tat way after hearing his voice?Btw I once saw how his veins in the hands were bulging up during gym and that was sexy.But I think his laugh is really cute and contrasting compared to his other stuff-” Peter who started to ramble about [Y/N] immediately stopped and looked at his friends to see MJ with a ‘I told ya’ look while Ned just blushed with wide eyes as if he was talking about him

“That’s actually very gay kid” the librarian who came near them to stack a self was listening to all this,says nonchalantly before walking back towards his desk

Peter’s face just burns the deepest red color possible before he buries his face in his hands as a muffled “I know that was very much gay and shows how much I have a crush on him so I hope the earth swallows me up”

But his friends heard it and MJ says “Before that don’t forget to confess your passionate love to him” making Peter groan more

“But mate isn’t it better than?You seem to have more chance with [Y/N] compared to Liz since [Y/N] flirts with you every time he can” Ned says trying to be helpful

“Ned he just does it just cause of his nature and-and someone like him won’t like a nerd like me!!” Peter says while waving his hands around in the air out of frustration

MJ scoffs at this before saying “He may be a playboy but not towards you Peter.Why do you think we thought you two were a couple.He treats you different than others,it’s quiet evident.Just that [Y/N] himself hasn’t realized it.So don’t be a coward and go with this cause we two don’t want to see this stupid unrealized pining between you two anymore”

Peter blushes and peaks between his fingers before asking “Where is [Y/N]?Wasn’t he with you?”

MJ seemed surprised and thinks a little before saying “It seemed something came up which annoyed [Y/N] so he said he would ditch the rest of the classes” deciding it was good to hide her conversation with [Y/N]

“Oh...I see” Peter getting a little worried and thought he would check on [Y/N] later

“Well leaving that aside,don’t be a fool and just go for it Peter” MJ says with an encouraging smile to which Ned nodded before smiling as well

Peter smiled as his thoughts of yesterday’s conversation but he seemed to have not noticed the boy coming towards him

“Hey Pete” a deep Asian ascent suddenly says in front of him making Peter jump back a little out of shock only to see it was [Y/N] who was chuckling at is reaction

And damn,[Y/N] just looked to hot.He was wearing a low v-cut half sleeve red shirt which gave a sneak peek of his toned chest,finger less black gloves,a black trouser and black combat boots.His neck had three necklaces with them being a cross,a razor and a wire looking one,as he could spot ‘Hell’ tattooed between his collar bones.At last he wore black round retro glasses as a cigarette was between his lips

He looked to hot to be legal to Peter and he could prove it as girls along with boys who were walking pass them definitely looked back once at [Y/N] with blush or if they were bold with lust filled eyes

Not minding them at all,[Y/N] flicked his cigarette towards the side before saying “That jump was really cute and did you wait long?” with a smile

Peter feels his cheeks already getting a little hot before saying “I-I was surprised okay?!And no I didn’t wait long but where are you coming from,dressed like that?” stressing a little bit to much at ‘that’

[Y/N] smirks before asking “Like what you see?” making Peter blush more and looks towards the side causing [Y/N] to laugh

“Ehh went out with some friends of mine on my bike before quickly came here cause didn’t wanted to make you wait long.So ready to go inside?” [Y/N] says while pointing at his cool looking bike(Peter thought was just perfect for [Y/N]) before a playful smile

“I have never been this kind of place [Y/N] so I’m kinda nervous and if Aunt May were to find out about this,I would be dead” Peter mumbles nervously to which [Y/N] chuckles

“Don’t worry Pete.You are going inside under my name,so nobody’s gonna do anything and I would make sure of it along with Aunt May not finding out about it.So just trust me” [Y/N] says with serious eyes now his ascent coming out in the ‘So just trust me’ making Peter suck in some air as his blush seemed to intensify

“Okay,I trust you” Peter finally says and the answer seems to satisfy [Y/N] who smiles before saying “Great,let’s go~”

»»————>❃<————««

True to [Y/N]’s words,nobody came near Peter,he wasn't asked if he wanted alcohol or tried to talk with him in general and Peter was give a place where the stage was totally clear

Peter nervously watched as [Y/N] performance was gonna start any minute and he didn’t knew what to expect

“I heard Foxy was going to perform today” Peter hears and see two girls whispering to which the other girl replied “Yes~Oh how I wished he would sent the night with me but too bad he is gay.I also heard today he came here with another boy!”

“They couldn’t be talking about-” Peter couldn’t finish his thoughts when the lights of the room dimmed before all focused on a the stage as a man came to the stage

“I know you all already heard it but without any further wait let’s welcome today’s special appearance of Foxy with his collab performance with our favorite group Leviathan!!And today they are gonna perform their original ‘Take me to cruch’” the man said and the whole crowd cheered loudly

The curtains of the stage raised and Peter widened his eyes to see [Y/N] sitting behind a drum set which a fox logo drawn in it as some other people with instruments stand on both his sides

My lover's got humor He's the giggle at a funeral Knows everybody's disapproval

“Ehh,Foxy was [Y/N]’s stage name?B-but leaving that aside [Y/N] can sing so nicely along with being able to play the drums?!How much more perfect can he be??” Peter thought as he heard [Y/N]’s accented english through this speaker with a blush on his face.He tuned out all the other’s voices so he can give all his attention towards [Y/N]

I should've worshiped him sooner If the heavens ever did speak He's the last true mouthpiece Every Sunday's getting more bleak A fresh poison each week "We were born sick" You heard them say it My church offers no absolutes He tells me "Worship in the bedroom" The only Heaven I'll be sent to Is when I'm alone with you I was born sick, but I love it Command me to be well

[Y/N] finally started to play the drum and people just swayed like it was a concert with this phone flashlight on

  Aaa, Amen, Amen, Amen

[Y/N] looked towards the crowd and immediately his eyes made contact with Peter who just felt his body on fire under his gaze

Take me to church I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife Offer me that deathless death Good God, let me give you my life Take me to church I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife Offer me that deathless death Good God, let me give you my life

[Y/N] kept his gaze on Peter and Peter felt as though the song was being dedicated to him.He thought that was a very stupid imagination,making Peter break his contact with [Y/N] as he looked towards the ground

Yet when he again looked up and saw [Y/N] still looking towards him,he felt a tiny bit of himself believing that maybe it could be dedicated to him.”I mean it isn’t a crime to imagine stuff like that” Peter thought as he again made contact with [Y/N]’s deep black eyes

If I'm a pagan of the good times My lover's the sunlight To keep the god on my side He demands a sacrifice Drain the whole sea Get something shiny Something meaty for the main course That's a fine looking high horse What you got in the stable? We've a lot of starving faithful That looks tasty That looks plenty This is hungry work

Take me to church I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies I'll tell you my sins so you can sharpen your knife Offer me my deathless death Good God, let me give you my life Take me to church I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies I'll tell you my sins so you can sharpen your knife Offer me my deathless death Good God, let me give you my life

No masters or kings when the ritual begins There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin In the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene Only then I am human Only then I am clean

Oh, oh Amen, Amen, Amen

The moment [Y/N] hit the line,people went crazy and started to sing along for what seemed as the last part of the song

Take me to church I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife Offer me that deathless death Good God, let me give you my life Take me to church I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife Offer me that deathless death Good God, let me give you my life

The entire roared up in people’s shouting and screams which Peter thought was the right thing to do for the performance was crazy and awesome

He was happy he could record that whole thing

But then as he saw how [Y/N] bumped fist with the other people on stage with a smirk,he remembered what MJ told his causing a blush to form at this face

“O-okay Peter!!Y-you are going t-to do this!!You are g-going to co-confess to [Y/N]!” Peter thought inside him before he decided to look for [Y/N]

But sadly [Y/N] seemed to have gone down the stage so picking up his courage,Peter went inside the crowd to look for him

Peter looked aimlessly among the crowd and luckily nobody bothered to stop him

It was tough to go around these sea of kind of drunk bodies without gaining much attention but it was fine with some work all thanks to Peter’s senses

Peter made to near the stage and felt a smile came to his face when he started to see [Y/N] standing near the stage

But as Peter was about to reach [Y/N] felt his breathing stop at the sight in front of him

[Y/N] was leaning against the wall as another shorter boy was leaning on his chest while [Y/N]’s hands were wrapped around the shorter boy’s waist

Peter felt his heart never run as fast as he was feeling now and he definitely stopped breathing when he saw [Y/N] kissing  the shorter boy

Peter just stood there as he saw his crush smooch some unknown guy in the club and he freaking didn’t knew what to do

He just wanted to get out of the club but to his misery [Y/N] moves his eyes and low & behold,he made eye contact with Peter

“Peter?” [Y/N] says immediately stopping his kissing session and that prompt was all it took for Peter to start running from that place

“Peter!!” [Y/N]’s voice perfectly reached his ears in the loud club and he hates the fact that he could perfectly hear his voice among others

He didn’t stopped to apologize for bumping with people and made a beeline for the exit before rushing out of the club

Tears started to slowly come out of his eyes and he just bit his lower lips to make sure a sob doesn’t comes out of his mouth as he made his way towards hi apartment

“Of course,‘He has a crush on you’ that’s so stupid and dumb..” Peter thought bitterly as his walked towards his apartment

»»————>❃<————««

Eomma - mother and Appa - Father for those who didn’t knew

Hello everyone!! Finally done with the next chapter,wohoo!! It took time and I think this is longer than the last one?I totally didn’t used this chapter to put ‘Take me to church’,totally not!Nah uh!Lol,well jokes aside if you guys haven’t heard Hozier just check him out cause he is an awesome artist.Anyway the next chapter would definitely take time so please stick with me till then and hope you enjoyed this one

[philliamwrites]

killing me softly with his song | (Childe / Reader) [chpt.1]

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Pairing: Childe / Reader

Tags: #fem!reader, #from childhood friends to lovers, #reader is a fatui agent, #slow burn, #unresolved sexual tension, #mature language, #forbidden love

Words: 2k

Summary: "Lybuov zla, polyubish i kozla," sighs your sister as she wipes off the table, but that makes you feel even more miserable. Falling for a goat might save you from an actual heartbreak by Tartaglia's hands.

____________

Loosely connected chapters about you and Childe finding happiness. Maybe.

Notes: Part 2

Masterlist

***

childe? what a problematic asshole i hate him i- *trips* *thousands of pictures of childe spill from pockets* fuck those aren’t mine i swear i’m just holding them for a friend i- *slips on a pile of pictures* fu ck no they’re not mine i hate him i just- *more pictures fall out as i fall to my knees, desperately trying to pick them up* hang on a sec jUst LISTEN

Chapter 1

     A cold gust of icy wind drives you deeper into the sheets and you swear by the name of Her Majesty Herself once you get up and find Alexei, you’ll smother him with a towel for leaving a window open in the middle of the night.

    Somewhere outside, a rooster crows. Fine, not dead of the night then, but no one cares for technicalities like these when sleep is involved. Especially after a night like this one, when Alexei fucked you into oblivion and back, you need every minute of shuteye you can get before another day of exhausting missions in the Chechnaya Taiga of Snezhnaya claims your last strand of sanity.

    It’s peaceful mornings like these that make it all worthwhile though—the quiet during the early golden hour when people slowly wake up to a brand-new day and get ready to do their chores, their factory work. The sheer number of possibilities stretching out before their hands, and hope rekindled every morning despite the harsh cold waiting at their doorsteps. You love how everything stands still, how even the uncaring universe seems to grant people a sliver of peace, allows them to be soft and vulnerable. To be kind to themselves by indulging in a freshly brewed cup of coffee or tea. Nothing can spoil this for you, nothing and no one—

    An awkward cough sounds from the door. You close your eyes, willing him to disappear by simply ignoring him, but his eyes burn into the back of your head like two smouldering coals and eventually, you turn around to see Alexei standing in the door frame, shifting from left to right. “There’s someone out there who wants to talk to you,” he says.

    Turning around, you try to disappear into your pillow. “Whoever it is, I’m sure they can wait until it isn’t such a damn unholy time.”

    Alexei clears his throat. “It’s uhm … it’s someone from the Fatui.”

    Your eyes snap open. Suddenly the warm, cosy blankets feel like a snake’s tight hold around your body, and you struggle out of its grip, grabbing for the dressing gown you carelessly threw around the back of your chair last night.

    The sun hangs low in the east, painting the city of Kerch that stretches outside of your window a sheen of dusky gold. When the red-brown bricks of the dacha cottages come into view, you think of the gingerbread houses you used to make as a child every year in celebration of Her Majesty the Tsaritsa of the Zapolyarny Palace.

    Cold already seeps into your bones even though the robe is tight around your body. You hiss when your bare feet hit the icy floor but can’t find your slippers. Time to die like a woman.

    You brush past Alexei, who’s scratching his head, still just in his underwear and you think him crazy for walking around half-naked like that even though it’s minus 58F outside and the heating systems inside your barracks only start to work once outside temperatures drop to minus 75F.

    Maybe what they say is true. People from around Noyabrsk in the north of Snezhnaya regularly dip into frosty rivers and you do remember him mentioning ice swimming is his hobby. It was one of the few things you thought attractive about him. Actually, it was the only thing you thought attractive about him.

    Light streams into the floor from the kitchen, flickering once, twice in dangerous foreboding. It’s time to switch the lightbulb. Tomorrow. Tomorrow for sure, because that isn’t important right now. What’s important is Tartaglia sitting at your table, leaning back in a chair, both feet crossed on top of the table, and eating your leftover mayonnaise sandwich you saved up for breakfast.

    His eyes slide lazily toward you, taking in your form—barefoot, shivering even though the fur from your bathrobe is of the finest white wolf fur obtainable on the market.

    Tartaglia finishes your sandwich, smacks his lips and licks mayo off his fingers. He doesn’t even like it, and you know from time to time he can’t handle dairy all that well. He just eats it because he knows how it infuriates you.

    “Alexei, huh,” he says in lieu of hello. “Didn’t know you’re into himbos.”

    Behind you, Alexei makes a sound like a kicked puppy. You glare at him over your shoulder, then jut your chin towards the front door. “Out. Now.”

    He doesn’t wait for you to repeat yourself. Surprisingly fast for a guy this big, he bolts into your room, gets dressed in record speed and leaves your little one-bedroom apartment without so much as a Goodbye or “We’ll hear from each other,” and you prefer it that way. It saves stuff from getting messy.

    Speaking of messy, you really wish Tartaglia would have sent you a note before coming. The smell of icy wind and snowy forests clings to his clothes. He must have come straight from a mission, not unusual in the slightest, yet in most cases he sends a message your way just to make sure he doesn’t run into one of your one-night stands and it doesn’t get ugly.

    Like right now.

    “I thought you had a little more class than that,” he says nonchalantly. His feet keep wobbling from left to right until you make your way over and push them off your table. Not that you actually sit there to take your meals, no. But this is your home, you have to assert dominance.

    “Well, I’m not picky,” you say, taking the empty chair opposite from him. “The nights of Fyrva’snezh are really fucking cold.”

    “I’m sure Fire-Water will do the same trick.” He’s sulking, yet he has no right to it and knowing Tartaglia, that’s why he sulks even more.

    Your relationship can be summarised with one word: complicated. Which is funny, because besides martial arts classes (taught by a teacher that is a real ball of sunshine who could easily snap your spine like a twig) and infiltration tactics courses (led by a grumpy teacher who once woke you all up in the middle of the night to do a spontaneous quiz about infiltration steps and everyone who failed or fell asleep had to run a marathon through the forest in their underwear) you had to take at the Fatui military school of Zapolyarny, they also teach mathematics and molecular physics, and that shit was complicated.

    Growing up in a small seaside village—bless little Morepesok; how much you miss babushka Katya’s refreshing botvinia soup—with only a handful kids your age, gravitating towards Tartaglia was the natural development. He loves ice-fishing, you love eating fish. You gag just smelling solyanka, he wolfs it down like it might be his last meal on earth. Opposites attract each other, as they say, and how true it is for you two—you, the morning person and he, the night owl; his will of iron and your nerves of steel. Your bow, his sword, even though Tartaglia is a masochist who likes to make it hard for himself by trying to switch weapons solely because you’re better at it than him and he is a sore loser.

    His worship of Her Majesty the Tsaritsa, your fear of Her Majesty the Tsaritsa.

    “I don’t think you came all the way here just to call me a slut,” you say. He is in no position to do so anyway, because Camilla from the ptychy’moloko shop down the road that leads to the Sarov church didn’t shut up about blowing him for weeks until you sent her a liver of a pig and claimed that was the leftovers from the last girl that thought she could put a leash on the Eleventh of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers. Camilla quickly moved on to an inconspicuous merchant who sells matryoshka dolls for a living and all is well that ends well.

    “What do you want?”

    Tartaglia starts tapping a gloved finger against the wooden table, a nervous tick you don’t know he’s aware of.

    “I’m leaving for Liyue first thing tomorrow.” His tone is low when he speaks, his earlier nonchalance replaced by a sense of urgency.

    “Okay.” It isn’t the first time he’s leaving Snezhnaya by order of the Tsaritsa, but every time he does, something inside you leaves with him. “So, you want me to keep an eye out for Teucer and the others?”

    “He’s really unhappy I’m leaving again already.” Tartaglia doesn’t mention the reason he was sent away just a couple of months ago to Inazuma was because he accidentally blew up an artillery factory belonging to a nobleman that secretly shipped orders to Fontain. The fallout from that was easier to handle with him not being anywhere nearby. Tartaglia is like a pair of hot tongues; no one is sure where to put him or how soon he would cool off, but if they just drop him, he might light the world on fire. Kid gloves are put on and a careful perimeter marked out.

    “And what excuse did you make up this time?” You knock your foot into his leg, lingering on his calf just a second too long before withdrawing again. “Another business trip to promote your toys? You can’t hold up this charade forever, you know.”

    “Why, your eyes feast on Snezhnaya’s greatest expatriate toy seller, now extending to the Liyue Branch of our Institute for Toy Research.” Tartaglia’s eyes have taken on a playful glint, and he leans forward as he speaks. “You wouldn’t be so cold to break a little boy’s heart. That’s not you.”

    You want to remind him that you have no problem to put an arrow between a man’s eyes, or rip out his fingernails, one by one, to get the information that you want.

    “You owe me, toy man.”

    “Put it on my tab.”

    Tartaglia looks like there’s something else he wants to say, but as always, he decides to swallow those words even though they must hurt like swallowing needles. You know that feeling, and so you help him sort out his tightly entangled yarn of emotions by figuratively pushing him off the cliff.

    “Don’t forget to bring condoms. I hear the women of Liyue are beautiful.”

    Tartaglia goes a sickly grey colour, like the ashes of a dead fire, but he’s been the leading role of this play too long to fall out of character now. He gets up and stretches like a cat getting comfortable in a spot of sunlight. His jacket rides up, showing a stripe of skin, and you quickly turn your head away before giving into leaning over the table and mark him with your teeth.

    Patting his left pants’ pocket, Tartaglia says, “I’m always prepared.” He carries a grin that is dry, humourless, and for a brief moment, you two lock eyes, trading a look that feels like a dare. You allow yourselves to imagine how he picks you up and carries you to your bed where you two would proceed to fuck without abandon through the whole day and the following night, leaving the bed only to get food until Tartaglia leaves for Liyue and you’d send each other love letters until his return. What an idea. What an utterly stupid, naive, wonderful idea.

    “Well, lucky ladies,” you say, not bothering to hide the jealousy in your voice because jealousy is easier to handle than regret.

    “Lucky indeed,” he agrees and dons his easy-going smile, one that he’s perfected after hours upon hours in front of the mirror until it accomplished what he wanted: to mock people, infuriate them.

    On his way out, he stops to ruffle your hair in an affectionate way, one typical for childhood friends, but the distance between you is like the ocean separating Snezhnaya from Liyue.

    It was on the very first day of your conscription into the military organisation, Number Six of the Ten Laws that the Fatui abide by: Any physical or romantic relationship between Fatui agents is prohibited. As thou would not exchange flesh with thy brother or sister, so thou shalt not with your comrade, for he or she is thy brother or sister in arms.

    And everyone knows Her Majesty the Tsaritsa’s word is law, and though the law is hard, it is the law.

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