#god i wish i were still convinced i were a bad person then at least id think killing myself would actually solve things

[confusedsiewmai]

-

[eluxcastar]

Hello Riri! :]

I'm in my platonic harbingers with a child reader era, and you're one of the few people I follow who writes platonic stuff on an occasion. So here's my request!

Here's the small storyline I have. Reader is the child of a god (you're free to decide what they are the god of, if you want) who is extremely well known around Tevyat, and puts on a very intimidating and serious presence. Yet one unfortunate day, the readers parent dies, so now they have to take on their legacy at a too young of age. Making them grow up out of their childhood much faster and pressuring them into becoming exactly like their parent. Cold, intimidating, and serious.

And out of all the mortals the reader has met, the harbingers are who they find comfort in. They could be lecturing some other mortal one minute, and the next minute, they see one of the harbingers. They're grabbing them by the hands, bouncing on their tip toes with a bright smile.

(Hope you're having a good day! And please don't overwork yourself<3)

Fatui harbingers with a child god

── ୨୧：fatui harbingers & reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: child reader taking over as archon and basically immediately proving why child rulers are a bad idea but it's ok because it's cute and endearing

୨୧﹑genre :: fluff

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, god reader, signora might be ooc tbh I struggled to think for her, not proofread

୨୧﹑words :: 3k

this has been in my inbox for some time, even though I've really wanted to do it for ages. I'm sorry honey it took me a while to get to it. the description of their parent at least to me was giving mr zhongli when he was morax and I immediately thought of the ramifications of him faking his death in the rite of descension which makes me wanna write something else BUT THAT'S FOR LATER

I meant to post this four and a half hours ago but suddenly it was like twice the length I thought it would be and uh yeah that was not the plan but enjoy the food served hot and fresh

There has hardly been a moment of grief since you were orphaned, and the people are turning to you for their next overseer. You, small, fragile, and ill-prepared, are the one they wish to see take up the pillar left in your father's wake. You weren't ready, and maybe you never would've been, embraced by the caring side of your well and truly mellowed-out father and cherished by the people as the child of the nation.

Your transition from people's treasure to people's guide was jarring, and you're still not used to it. You move with what pleases and hide what brings deep frowns and disappointed eyes. The people no longer want a child but a god. They want their pride, once a god who had walked by their side for millennia, now the passing generation of a god as the mantle shifts to his blood.

It's hard not to notice what they make you, now the spitting image of your father, though you can only parrot his earned wisdom and show a brave face to keep the nation from despair.

You have but a single ally—the Tsaritsa—someone whose messengers approached you to ask for your father's gnosis and who gladly agreed to offer you an invitation to Snezhnaya at your request to speak to her personally, quite honestly not knowing how to say that you frankly didn't know what to do with the gnosis. Though you could keep it, you're unsure how to harness its power, wield it, or even control it. Your father was strong, you're not.

She is an intimidating presence but gentle. She knew of your father for as long as she had been an archon—though they weren't on good terms toward the end—perhaps you could understand her more than he would. He was the original archon in his seat, but you are an inheritor like her. In her lands, you are the careful balance of both a god and a child, spoken to with the grace of a higher power but the softness that is befitting to a young child.

It is as you are.

Tartaglia is the first to seek a test of your strength, though you wish not to hurt him and convince him to wait. So long as the answer is someday, he allows you to let him down easily and settles at indulging your requests to join the snowball fight you noticed him having. You want to join in, fidgeting and with your gaze flickering between the smiling children and your feet. You push away your every want to join them and play as well, but remind yourself of the people who would scorn you. It's unfitting for a god to behave like an immature child, you remind yourself, but every hope of remaining steadfast to that is gone as Tartaglia notices you watching.

His offer is merely that—an offer. He speaks with a snowball forming in his hands as he approaches, his thick coat engulfing his form and the red scarf bundled around his neck to keep him warm. You have to look up to meet his eyes, playful and perhaps a little mischievous. Tartaglia holds the snowball out to you as if it were his peace offering.

"You look like you want to join the fun. Care to throw a snowball or two with us?"

"May I?"

And with that, you take his offering.

Pantalone's musings and the intentions of his gifts are not beyond you. He means to win you over and perhaps spoil you a little. It is coddling, and you notice it. He wants what he wants, and he will get it out of you, but it is also not beyond him to recognise that you are...naïve, endearingly. Pantalone can lavish you in fine silks all he wants, but you have received many offerings, so they don't particularly sway you as he had hoped, and he moves on. Your true weakness lies in children's toys, the many things you have been denied since you have been forced to steel yourself. The smile that twitches at the corners of your lips as he presents you with the first is enough to confirm it.

Toys are made for children; though you try to deny it, you are still a child at heart. Gifting a child a toy they will try to pretend they don't cherish but will protect with their life is perhaps the quickest way to earn their favour. He watches as you fiddle with the arms of the plush cat when you think nobody is looking, asking it questions and then responding to yourself in an all-too-dedicated voice you put on for this cat. 

"Oh, Mr Cat, would you like some borscht too? It's very good."

"Yes, please, I would love to try some!"

Pantalone admittedly can't deny that you come with your own charms.

Signora spoils you what many of your aids have tried to before you, the chance to fix your hair, marvel at a pretty lady and wish you were half as sophisticated as her. She is your role model, second only to the Tsaritsa. She is beautiful and elegant and willing to teach you her ways as long as you continue to show up as cute as you are. Fix your posture a bit, head up, and walk everywhere with purpose, even if there isn't one. She has mastered the art, and you want it. Pantalone has his own appeal, a sophisticated man who learned through blood, sweat and tears, but there is something so distinct about Signora that makes you run to her at your first problem of presentation.

Like your mother, she will take you by the hand, lead you to a mirror, straighten your back, tilt your head up by the chin, and tell you to look at yourself now. Each time, you stare dumbly in awe of her reflection standing behind you, observing you like something precious, and it fills you with the confidence you need to heed her advice. It doesn't occur to you that Signora looks at you that way only because she thinks you're cute in your efforts, but too much like a child who got into their mother's perfume to be taken seriously.

"How others see you is important. Do you think they want to see their god with their back slouched and head hung? Hold your gaze above the people."

"It's-- well, different. I think I just look tense."

Sandrone has also come to realise that your weakness lies in toys, though she will not admit to aiding and abetting Pantalone's endeavours to find you a plushie. Instead, she shows you Katheryne. You have seen Katheryne before; you are sure of that, and that is only confirmed as Sandrone informs you that she exists in every branch of the Adventurers' Guild, including the one in your homeland. Katheryne is your access to knowledge, and the Northland Bank is your connection to Snezhnaya. Sandrone offers you comfort, the path that will lead you back to where help is and where you can go when you become overwhelmed by responsibility.

She likes your company, a reluctant admission that does not come cheap as she bargains your silence with the knowledge that she's aware of your liking for your cat toy. The embarrassment that overwhelms you is palpable until she offers you her workshop to play when your quarters are so overcrowded by your aids. You couldn't come to Snezhnaya alone for your safety, and it leaves you stranded without a moment of peace at times.

"Really?...and I can just, stay here? For as long as I want?"

"Isn't that what was offered to you?"

"Well...yes, thank you."

Scaramouche, whom you meet adjacent to Sandrone, is ill-tempered in the presence of others but a tad nicer when it comes to you. He does not drop his rough-around-the-edges personality to melt his heart out of his chest for you, but you manage to strike the perfect cord in his to gain liberties others cannot, having him share sweets with you. You learned at one point he really doesn't like them, leading you to wonder why they suddenly appeared ready and available for you to stuff your pockets full and snack on them when nobody's looking. You earn his favour through endearment and talk to him like he's normal because he is.

He is the child of a god, though in a different capacity to you. He was not loved quite so dearly by his mother and cannot share with you the pain of losing someone who treasured you. He was merely abandoned. There is the vague part of you that shuns the idea his softness is pity, sympathy even, as you're stuck stumbling through the world alone. It is all too familiar to him, and if candy will make you smile at him so cheerfully and hug him so tightly, then candy is a simple trade-off.

"Are you sure you don't want any? These are yours."

"Sickly sweet things make me feel like my teeth are fusing together. You can have them."

Pulcinella reminds you of home, the trinkets gathered on a whim that he keeps, the years showing through the rooms dedicated to him as you notice things your father told you of in stories. These are stories that Pulcinella will start off on without prompting, indulging your curiosity before you even lowered your guard enough to show it and casually enough that you slowly ask more. Every item holds a story: what it is, how he obtained it, why he kept it, who it was for. You see many such things around what used to be your house, but you don't know all of the stories, treasuring the ones you remember.

Pulcinella doesn't recall every story either, as some of your pointing and questioning is met with remarks of how long it has been. It is the only thing you feel you share with him, a living space filled to the brim with memories. Many of your trinkets don't belong to you, but his do, and it's nice to hear someone tell you stories again as he lets you pick from the collection of sweets in your pockets to eat when it suits your fancy.

"What about this? It reminds me of a lumenstone, the ones from the chasm."

"It is, and it came from Liyue when I asked that one of my subordinates bring it back for me. You must have a fine eye for these things."

"Not really, only lumenstone and noctilucous jade glow like this."

Arlecchino's offering to you is company, and plenty of it. Children who are so far removed from the stretch of news beyond the issues of the Steambird they manage to get their hands on that they wouldn't know your face from a haggler on the street. Father brought a guest to play with, and that's what matters as they induct you into their games, teach you the rules, and regard you exactly as they regard every other child their age. You are given the choice to simply become nobody, and you love it. Though you were once only a child, you were still the child of a god, and everyone knew it. Now, you elicit excitement only because someone new enters their lives, someone to learn about and befriend, merely a guest their father brought them.

Despite her sharp exterior, she is sweeter to you than you expected. You thought Arlecchino might be scarier, meaner, harsher, but she softens when she speaks to you. It is not with the cutthroat demeanour she holds speaking to the Harbingers and lacks a degree of the stern attitude she fronts to the children. You are not the average child, and it's necessary to treat you with some degree of respect, but you notice she's gentler with you than others, and it almost makes you feel special.

Columbina has sung you to sleep many times during your stay; her voice is sweet and more than enough to calm you. You let her hold your cat plush and dance with you in the hallways with the excuse you need knowledge of these things should you aspire toward being an archon, even if spinning around until you fall on the floor from dizziness and burst out laughing is a tad non-traditional. Columbina can see things others can't notice more than the human eye is capable of, and you'd rather not know what that's like. Something in the way she speaks tells you that it's hardly adjacent to anything human, closer to you, but still quite far off. It's interesting to hear the strange things humans have no business knowing.

Your hand is grasped in Columbina's, her fingers holding you tenderly. Her eyes are partly obscured beneath the lattice of a mask she wears. You're not sure if you could really call it a mask. She steps back, tugging you with her, and spins you in time with the steps she takes, each accompanied by a shift that forces you to keep up with where she moves, her other hand on your shoulder. It is the closest you will get to proper dancing, though merely a fool's waltz. You can't dance; being spun down a hallway while you struggle to match her movements feels much like you imagine a waltz would.

"It's not really proper dancing if we have no pattern to it."

"There is no such thing as proper dancing. If you'd prefer it, I could sing."

Dottore is someone you did not expect to be so open to the idea of you, and your assumptions were proven correct by his apprehension to engage with you. He is curt with you at best and avoidant at worst. You are a child filled with the yearning to touch everything that doesn't belong to you, desperate to hear too much about the things that don't concern you. You are young, needy, and with no concept of what is beyond you. Dottore's unique abundance of knowledge is appealing to you, however. He knows things your father did, many of which he didn't tell you, but Dottore will, so long as it gets you to sit still and stop interrupting him. You may be convinced you have pocketed your unnecessary emotions away, but he has seen you, and that is an insulting lie.

Your wants are written on your face plain as day, so long as people pay enough attention to you to care what you feel. He does not especially care, not for the child of a god, but it helps to know what you want to stick your nose in most. It helps to know how you benefit from him, and on luckier days, you might even catch him in a better mood when he is willing to indulge your interest in his knowledge. Your capacity to understand, let alone remember, hardly worries him.

"So you have clones of yourself? And they just...work for you?"

"Not exact clones—segments. They have wills of their own and use them as they see fit."

Capitano is strong, a man of few words, and he does not abhor your presence quite so strongly, nor does he indulge your more childish desires. What you get from Capitano is respect, the highest honour you can get from his book in your eyes, and it comes from your perseverance. You're running around working so hard when you're so young, and you deserve a break sometimes. You deserve a quiet place to curl up in the corner with that cat he's caught you hiding under where no one can bother you, and maybe with a few sweets you always seem to have these days. That corner still does not exist, though he will find you one if you want it. 

You show no signs of slowing down, are energetic and eager and are far too committed to the act of being something you're not to listen to him when he tells you to rest. Gods must all be fickle. The most he can do for you is make sure you're safe and happy as you will be in your position, maybe wipe your hands of powdered sugar when you find pastries at the market you want and recklessly eat them without thinking of how you'll clean up short of wiping the remnants on your clothes, but you'll never do that as you are.

Pierro once made you nervous. He is a stern, serious man who never smiles. Pierro is steadfast in loyalty and never wavers, which is precisely what you have begun to aspire to be now that that is what has been asked of you. You could never hope to replicate the kind of dedication he has, and perhaps that is part of what sways you. Though you have become so comfortable behaving childishly around some people, you fear you may never be around him, whether because you fear his disapproval or yearn for his approval. Despite that, he is arguably who you trail around behind most, quiet, observing, trying to figure out how to copy and apply what he has to yourself.

It settles the quick realisation he reminds you most of what the people saw in your father. Someone like him is someone people envision fostering a nation to prosperity, and you fight your own subconscious to keep all of your slipping habits, making sure he never sees you sneaking candy, hiding your cat plush from him, refusing Tartaglia's every offer to play games around him. You're not sure why you think that will make him like you more, having long ago gained his favour, unable to notice the faint smiles and the conscious effort to make you believe he doesn't notice you out the window barreling snowballs at Tartaglia.

You are still a child at heart; he is just about the last person you can hope to hide that from.

[feukt-42]

Elden ring + Shadow of the Erdtree lore thoughts

Alright, so, first off, obviously, spoilers ahead.

I've been thoroughly enjoying and getting my ass kicked by SotE and what ive seen of the lore so i wanted to ramble about it.

I specifically wanted to talk about how Elden Ring explores power and godhood.

In the base game, godhood isnt seen as inherently bad. Marika's golden order is fucked up six ways to sunday, but the blame mainly rests on Marika's shoulders it seems. She's a genocidal homewrecking war-mongerer who threw two of her children in the sewers bc of racism, she's not a good god, but it doesnt portray the problem as her being a god, just her being a mess. The game provides several "solutions" to unfuck everything :

Ranni's ending has you completely throw the system in the trash. She says, fuck it, godhood's the problem, im out of here. She is kinda right, but the lands remain fractured and the power vacuum left behind is going to be immense. We're on the right track but could be better.

The frenzied flame ending is just pure concentrated nihilism so i think we can move past it for this one.

The bunch of other endings are fairly similar : you beat Marika/Radagon's ass and you impose yourself as Elden Lord to keep her in check and fix the issues you see as most important. This doesnt fix anything long-term, the god in power is still the exact same fucking mess but with a chaperone now i guess.

None of these endings are very satisfying, they all leave you with a sense of "it could be worse i guess" (except the frenzied flame one but you get the point). This is where Miquella comes in :

Everything we hear about Miquella sounds great. He's kind, compassionate, against racism, doesnt like violence, etc etc. Cherry on top, he's even one of the characters with a direct shot at godhood, brilliant ! Why cant we just put him in charge, he'll do much better than the absolute wreck we have right now.

And thats where the base game leaves us, Marika is a fucked up mess of a person, and the obvious solution is to put the much better Miquella in her place.

Shadow of the erdtree, on the other hands, aims to set the record straight. The problem wasnt just Marika, the problem is inherent to godhood in and of itself.

In SotE, we see the land of shadow, the realm where Marika came from and ascended to godhood, and the realm where Miquella intends to do the same. And the more we hear about who Marika was before in snippets of lore, and the more we watch Miquella tread the road to godhood, we realise something :

There is no such thing as a good god

It doesnt matter how kind and compassionate you were, what your morals were, who you loved, who you loathed, none of it matters because you cannot grasp the power to become a god without sacrificing who you were before.

In the dlc we see Miquella shed more and more of himself, his flesh, his arms, his eye, his heart, his doubts, his fears and even his love. Miquella has shorn so much of who he was that he formed an entire new person (St Trina) from it. Some of him remains, he still wishes for a kinder world, but he cant sacrifice anymore of himself for it. Now he has to start sacrificing others.

Miquella was always blessed with the ability to charm others, and he sees it as the least painful path to make others do as he wishes. And so he charms his sister, he charms Mohg, he charms Radahn, his followers, Leda, Moore, Thiollier, Freyja, the hornsent, Ansbach, and everyone he can convince to give themselves up for his dream of a kinder world, regardless of the pain they might cause or feel by being enthralled by him.

And oh boy do they feel pain. Mohg is used and discarded like a ragdoll, and his followers and dynasty slowly crumble to nothing as the last pureblood knight watches helplessly, himself entranced by the one responsible after he failed to kill him. Radahn's soul is shoved in a corpse so that he can play consort to a god that is his antithesis, depriving him of his glory and honour as lord of the battlefield. Malenia is left alone to rot after Miquella has no use or help for her, and she endlessly waits for her brother to return. Every one of Miquella's followers has to grapple with those feelings of betrayal, manipulation, and lost memories returning all at once. It is by no means painless.

And so we end up with a god that is not much better than Marika was. On his path to godhood, Miquella has caused as much pain to those along the way as his mother once did, in this very same land that still feels the scars of Marika's ascension.

The only way to gain power is to take it from everyone else, and that cannot be achieved without pain.

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Therapeutic

New drabble drop. The awaited conversation between Dream and Ccino. @spotaus you ready for another gut punch for Dream my friend :D

First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

no edit or beta! :D

*-------------------*

Dream tugs on his vest as he glances at the cafe door.

He sees more people leave. As they have been for the last half hour.

It is fine! There is no reason to be nervous! He is just going to visit a place where someone works and lives who may have been kinda friends with Dream's brother!

The same brother that Dream has been actively working against because he was so convinced he knew better what was going on and instead of talking to his twin Dream decided it was smarter to trust other people's opinions who Dream had only known for a while and who were not close to his brother at all!

The same brother that seems to have disappeared and who Dream is no worried sick about while everyone around him celebrates his disappearance! Again because Dream messed up his job!

Dream leans against the wall and tries to calm his racing soul "it is fine. it is fine. it is fine. the worst that can happen is him telling you to get the fuck out and never return." which would include dream losing his one possible lead to find his brother.

Happy thoughts.

...

Dream shakes his skull. no. No forced happy thoughts. that is part of the reason he is struggling this much now.

Dream takes adeep breath and mutters to himself "let the fear be there. let it be with you. but don't let it consume you. don't let it keep you from doing what you wish to do." a bit of an exercise that Blue's Undyne had thought of for him. As she also struggles mentally with quite a few things.

Dream nods to himself and slowly nears the door to the cafe. a glance inside. just to make sure he isn't still busy. damnit the cafe is empty.

Well! Here goes nothing and everything!

He pushes the door open.

Ccino looks up and speaks with a practised smile "Welcome to the Cuddly Cat-" he stops and stares.

Dream tries to look calm but can't help himself as he slowly raises his hand and gives it a tiny wave.

Ccino's shock transforms into a glare as he hisses out "Well if it isn't the god that didn't even bother to read his own job description.".

Dream can't help but start laughing. It is almost a relieve! so many people had been trying to cheer him up and reassuring him that everyone messes up and that what he did wasn't that bad. It is so much better. He hadn't realised how badly he wanted at least one person to actually hold him accountable. To actually look him in the face and just straight up tell him he messed up.

Dream smiles brightly at Ccino as he answers "I know right? I made a mess of things… It is just…" he takes a deep breath. the hard part. Why he came here and hoped Ccino would have info. Because over the last few weeks a memory had suddenly stood out to him. cats who all looked and acted so much like others who Dream knew "I heard you have... very special cats and i was hoping to meet them?"

Ccino hesitates. Ccino keeps glaring at him but then his sight turns slightly and Dream can see him eye a piece of paper. Dream glances at it and sees his own pamphlet. He had left them in every universe he could think of to give everyone a quick update.

It is still a lot of work to continue clean up all the hatred he had unknowingly spread and promoted but it was a start.

Ccino sighs but he waves him over "make sure to turn the sign to closed please."

Dream blinks before smiling brightly as he does just that. he steps fully inside and turns the sign.

Ccino goes around quickly and closes the curtains and everything. Then he walks over to a table and just takes a seat.

Dream joins him at the table and smiles "thank you so much for doing this."

Ccino huffs as he leans on his fist "I figured you would keep bothering me otherwise."

It hurts to not be trusted nad Dream wonders if Nighty had to feel this daily. First in their own universe and than still in the multiverse. for over 500 years. actually being able to feel how everyone hated and distrusted him.

Dream rubs his hands "I... i would have respected a no... if you want i can still leave." he doesn't want to lose this chance... but he can't make stuff even worse. He just misses his brother so much. had missed him for so long already.

Ccino just waves it off and looks at him expecting.

Dream swallows and looks around the cafe for a moment before looking back at Ccino "I... i remembered that some of your cats were... special... in their looks and acting.. .and I was wondering... is it a coincidence or..."

Ccino snorts as he leans back "Yes. they are counterparts to other outcodes and important players in the multiverse. No i don't specifically look for them or get them or make them." he rolls his eye lights "They just show up at my front or back door and i let them stay. Sometimes some leave again."

Dream gives a slow nod and manages to gather his nerves "is... is... Is my brother's? Is my brother's cat okay? I... I can't remember seeing his cat and it is my brother! He is a god he has to be important and be here at least." he can't keep the desperate hope in anymore.

Ccino shrugs "being a god doesn't necessarily mean they show up here. it would be rather busy in here otherwise as there is a surprising large number of gods." he huffs and dream can hear Ccino mutter "with multiple universes completely focussed on making gods and having gods."

Dream alughs and nods "that is fair... it is just... i remember seeing a cat that was.. well... me.... I figured.. .there is no way that i would be there and not Nightmare."

Ccino snorts and grins "Every protagonist needs an antagonist after all."

Dream glares at the table before shooting him a glare "no not like that!"

Ccino tilts his skull and grins "relax. Antagonist doesn't automatically mean evil or anything. it means they are someone who goes against the protagonist and their goal." he shrugs "seeing as we both know nightmare had been right and you were wrong. he was still the antagonist in your story."

Dream shakes his skull "he wasn't!"

Ccino glares at him "it isn't like you left him any other role to play."

it hurts so much to know that and Dream glares "i know! Okay?! I know I messed up. I just want to find him and apologise. i need to tell him i am sorry and that he was right." that Dream lvoes him. that he is sorry. and that... that it is okay if nightmare hates him... that dream would deserve that but dream needs to make sure that nightmare knows he is sorry. that Dream regrets everything and is trying to make it right again.

Ccino stares at him before sighing and getting up. he walks towards the cattree and Dream feels his hopes fall. he is going to be send away... not even a single clue and-

very angry cat meowing as Dream watches his own counterpart cat be pushed into a side room and the door to close. Next ccino goes to the counter. He dips behind it and Dream hears a cabinet open.

After he hears panicked meowing as Ccino rises again. in his arms a large cat. maybe a main coone? but Dream feels himself start to hope as he can spot four large tails and one slow blinking cyan eye.

That is... oh fuck... that actually is!

Ccino wlaks over as three cats follow him on the ground. Dream looks at them and it is pretty obvious it are Killer, Cross and Horror. Dream wonders why they are following when he sees the cat and feels his soul grow cold.

Nightmare's.... his cat looks sick and tired.

Ccino sits in a chair closer to Dream as he gently pets the cat. Nightmare's cat purrs and leans into the touches.

Killer's cat jumps on the table and meows loudly before marching over to Ccino's side and nudging his arm. Ccino stops with petting and Killer's cat stands partly in Ccino's lap to nuzzle and clean ngihtmare's cat.

Dream looks at ccino "waht... why is he...?"

Ccino answers softly "sick? tired? older? I don't know. I have no idea what caused this..." he loks so sad as he pets the cat "I never saw anything like this before..."

Dream remembers his own weakening powers. the way he had been slowly but surely loosing his own powers and magic as he has lost his domain.

This confirms it... Nightmare's also lost his... but he was being kept alive by said magic and powers.

Dream raises a shaky hand "can i... cna i try to heal him?" anything. please let him try.

Ccino looks very unsure and loks at the cats before looking back at the door where Dream can hear his own cat version scream its head off.

Ccino sighs and nods "you can try. nothing the vet did seemed to help him much. he is just... much older now according to him."

Dream still tries. he first pets the cat gently. the goop feels strange but comforting. Dream never thought he would think of the goop like that. he had believed for so long that the goop had taken his brother from him. that it was something to be removed. But if the goop was just the apples magic trying to keep him whole? How could dream hate it? How could he hate something that saved his brother?

Now it is his turn.

He holds his hand near the rib cage of the cat and he can see NGihtmare's cat shoot him a suspicious look.

Ccino chuckles "i wouldn't touch a cat's belly if i were you. that is a very strict no-touching zone for most of them, no matter who you are."

dream shoots him a smile "that is okay. i wasn't going to touch him there." and even if he wouldn't mind too much. he focusses the little magic he still has and tries to heal the cat.

His magic doesn't touch anything that could be healed. according to his magic everything going on wiht the cat is natural and normal. there is nothing to heal.

Dream frowns as he pulls his hand back and looks sad at nightmare's cat. Dream can't even help him like this...

Ccino sighs but seems unsurprised "I figured as much... don't feel bad. the vet already tried healing magic himself. I just try to make sure he can relax and rest."

Dream frowns at the door "why keep... my cat version away from him?" doens't he hear how desperate his cat is calling for nightmare's?

Ccino looks to the side and shrugs "i mean... before when these two got near each other your cat would... well... attack... all the time. It was saver for both to keep them seperated. and now wiht him weaker... I just didn't want to risk it." ccino pets the old cat.

Dream's hand forms fists as he glares down. his sockets itch with tears but he forces them in. this isn't about you. this isn't about you. your brother is dying somewhere. this isn't the time to make this about you or your pain. you don't even have the right to feel the pain. you are part if not the whole reason this happened.

Ccino gets up and takes nightmare's cat with him again. Dream wants to stop him. beg him to just let him hold his brother's counterpart. if only for a little while. but he doesn't.

Dream remembers how his own aura and the goop could get when they met in battle. he doesnt want to risk making it worse.

ccino returns to their table. also the other three following him gone again.

Dream feels hopeful and stares at him "his... his gang cats stay with him?"

Ccino blinks but grins "yeah. all the time. there is always at least one wiht him."

Dream sighs and smiles "that is good... that... that should mean he has them with him now right? that he isn't alone?" at least?

Ccino shrugs "it means there is no animosity between them all. that they all care. that is all i am sure about."

drema nods and rubs his arm "why... why don't people remember this? I get why you don't tell but how come no one notices?"

ccino shrugs "i am not sure how. people just don't. if anyone is willing to hurt someone within the cat group? they just.. don't notice or remember. it is why i am even willing to have this conversation. you remembering implies you won't hurt him."

dream feels himself relax and nods "i won't" never again.

Ccino nods "i figured... but that is what i know. i don't have any othr information for you."

dream smiles "that is okay... he is alive... and most likely not alone. that is more than i knew before." he may not be able to find nightmare fast. but he has a place where he can go to check if nghtmare is still alive. and then while he waits for their meeting. Drema can work on himself.

He can work on teaching the multiverse the truth and find his own calling.

Dream can work on his own trauma nad heal.

All while he searches for his brother.

This? This just showed that it isn't too late. His brother is still somewhere and there is time to fix this mess.

It won't be easy. but he can fix this. and that gives him hope.

*-------------------*

First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

[upsidedownwithsteve]

could I request modern!steve surprising reader at college? maybe she has been super homesick and it’s all fluffy?

Steve frowned at the maps on his phone, ‘cause the estimated time told him the journey would take three hours, but he was certain he could do it in less. Two and a half, maybe, if he didn’t stop. He grinned as the group chat pinged with notifications, Robin asking you if you were still planning on staying in tonight.

He breathed a sigh of relief when you replied with a ‘yeah, too tired to leave the dorm.’ How was he supposed to surprise you if you weren’t there to open the door for him? So the rest of your friends sent messages back, saying how they missed you as much as you missed them, how they hoped exams weren’t stressing you too much and would you be home soon?

Steve knew your exams were taking a toll on you, he could hear it in your voice when you called each night, cheek pressed to the pillow and voice soft with sleep and longing. When it got particularly bad, he could hear you get a little watery, words splintering in the middle when you told him you really just wished he was there to give you a hug.

So Steve was gonna do just that. Drive two and a half (three) hours to your college to wrap you up in his arms in the hug he so desperately wanted to give you. Robin was the one who convinced him to surprise you, who told him the sneaking around and white lies would be worth it.

‘Cause Steve had already had to reject your call by the time he reached the outskirts of Hawkins and it pained him. You knew he was off, why wouldn’t he take your call? His phone pinged through with a message from you.

‘Missing you ♥️’

Steve stepped on the accelerator a little harder.

He did in fact make it sooner than his sat nav told him, a smug feeling of pride mixing with anticipation and nerves in his stomach. It wasn’t like he rarely got to see you, no, you came home all the time, the train ride back to Hawkins even faster than the drive but exams had you holed up in either your dorm room or the library most weekends this month. Steve parked his car in the lot, felt his stomach flip when he saw your bedroom window from the sidewalk, cracked open for some autumn air, curtains tangling in the breeze. If he squinted enough, he could just make out the photo frame on the sill, the one he knew held a photo of you and him last vacation, you on his lap in front of a campfire at the cabin at Sugar Creek, taken by Jonathan.

He counted the doors to yours, each footstep echoing almost too loudly in the narrow corridor, blurred with the sounds of too many different spotify playlists, chatter and someone yelling about a grade they got. Steve sucked in a breath before he knocked on your door, your name along with your two roommates written in red pen on the whiteboard pinned to the wood. He hoped they’d gotten Nancy’s Instagram message, that they knew the plan and would let you open the door.

Sure enough, you were the one behind it when it swung open, the movement making the hair falling over his eyes lift and he grinned at the sight of you, rucksack over one shoulder, a bunch of peonies in one hand.

“Surprise,” Steve managed, the last syllable knocked out of him in a soft oomph, as you launched yourself at him, pink petals crushed between you both, your arms around his neck and he laughed as he held you to him, your toes barely on the ground at the exuberance of it all.

You were crying, he could feel them on his neck, where you’d buried your face and sniffed. “Happy tears, I hope,” Steve murmured, letting his bag and the flowers drop to the hallway carpet so he could hug you a little better.

You nodded, making a small sound, a watery pleased noise that made Steve laugh even more.

“You’re such a dick,” you choked out on a sob, pulling back to smile at him to show you didn’t mean it. You usually weren’t one for surprises, and your boyfriend knew this, but god, you’d never been so grateful to open the door to the person you least expected. “You didn’t answer my call. Thought you were sick of my whining.”

“Missed you too, babe,” Steve quipped but pushed a thumb to your cheek, pouting at the tear he caught there, your flushed cheeks and wet lashes. “Nah, me? Sick of you? Unheard of. Illegal, actually, to even think of such a thing.”

You sniffed again, lip wobbling and Steve couldn’t stop his grin. “Christ, woman, c’mere.”He pulled you back to him, hand cupping the back of your head so you could cling to his shirt and pretend that you were definitely not crying.

“I missed you,” you told him, words pressed to the skin of his throat, along with a kiss, tear soaked and soft. “A stupid amount.”

You got a proper kiss in response, sticky with fondness, a little salt from you but it was still Steve. It still tasted like home.

…

[dontyouworrydaddy]

chapter 1 ~tɦe ɾiνeɾ wɦeɾe we ɱet

⭒❃.✮:▹ a Simon Riley series 　　◃:✮.❃⭒

- series masterlist

It had been a very stressful day for you. Your day didn’t go as you planned. Rude customers, your chef wasn’t in a good mood and the fact that you’re understaffed makes it even worse. Working overtime, even when you’re sick.

And the only time you let yourself and your mind get a little peace is when you go to the lake deep in the dark woods. You were convinced that nobody knew this place. I mean a normal person with a healthy mind would never even think about going through the dark forest just to chill near the river.

It’s beautiful. The only sound you hear is the water running by and the birds singing in the wind. It’s 7pm and the sun begins to melt. It couldn’t be more beautiful. You’re mind is finally shutting down and giving you peace for just a few hours before you enter the overwhelming and crazy world again. It’s just you and the nature for now.

You discovered this place when you were a wild teenager 10 years ago. After a fight with your parents you just ran. Ran deep in the woods and hoping that the nature would swallow you alive. But instead you were greeted with peace. A natural stress reliever. Since then it’s always been your comfort place. Nobody knew this place, not even your friends. This is the only you zone.

It was overwhelming again and you needed to escape. So you did what you did best. Grab a book and just go to your comfort zone. But as soon as you arrived, you were greeted with someone.

This someone was sitting, with their cap on, not facing you. This person was huge, probably all muscles. Sitting near the river and swinging with a stick in the water while humming a song. A song that you knew aswell.

"different by avenoir?" you curiously ask but instead with a normal reaction, this person threw the stick at you and immediately got up.

"Fucking hell…" you wince in pain as you crouch down a little. Whatever this man’s job is… it’s definitely not a normal one. A normal human cannot cause this kind of pain by just throwing a stick.

"Bloody hell… You scared the shit out of me." This someone says with a deep voice. This someone was a man who was covering this face.

"You trying to kill me? In my spot?" you whisper and it’s crystal clear that you’re still in pain. Not even period cramps are this bad. From this moment on, you‘re never going to complain about them ever again. Actually you’re going to apologize for ever complaining about them. "Your spot? Excuse me? Does your name stand here somewhere?" he says with humor in his voice. You stand up straight again and look him dead in this man‘s honey brown eyes. It’s the only thing you can see. Even his hands are covered in gloves.

"No but it’s always been me here. And I‘m guessing today is my last day being alive. Because you look like you‘re about to murder someone and this someone might be me. You got the power too, soooo…" you tell this man and all he does is looking at you like you just told him a super undercover government secret.

"What? Why would I murder you. I‘m just here to clear my head." this man says and by the way his eyes moved, you can tell this man doesn’t know how to behave or what to say. He is just as confused as you are.

"So why the mask then? Especially the gloves. You expect me to believe you? At least let me listen to the water running a marathon before I die" you tell him your last wish.

"What? Water running a marathon? You confuse me more than any mission instruction I ever got. Can’t you communicate like a normal person??" This strange man asks you and you just turn away from him. "Yes, the water is running a marathon. And yes, I can communicate like a normal person. How else would I be able to talk to you, strange murderer. Tell me, do you always talk this much before you kill your victim?" as you end your sent you gain a sigh out of this huge man. You just know that he is on the verge of tears because of you.

"Oh my god. I am not a murderer. If it calms you down, I work in the military. Task Force 141, if it helps you sleep better at night." he says and he isn’t quite sure why he did that. He never talks about his work. He isn’t quite sure why he said that just to calm you down. A total stranger.

"Yes and I work for the Nasa. That’s exactly what a murderer would say." you mess with him. Something inside of you is telling you that this man needs as much help as you do. And he definitely doesn’t give off murderer vibes. He looks like he could kill someone. Maybe he did… who knows.

"I‘m serious. Look." he takes out a batch out of his pocket and shows you his proof. And indeed, he holds the Lieutenant rank in the Military for the Task Force 141.

You grew up hating the military because it took away your father. The loss of your father, KIA in a mission, caused you loose both your parents. Your mother was just… mentally not there. She always told you how sorry she is for not being able to look after you just like she used to do. And you don’t blame her. She lost the only person that saw her in every way possible.

"Another one of you. Time to mention that I despise you military guys" you said out of anger. You know that the military is just here to protect the country. And you used to adore them for their bravery. But ever since your dad got taken away… you just felt hate. Hate towards the people who took him from you, hate against the world, hate for him and basically anything that involves violence.

"Huh? Why?" This man says with actual interest. He wants to know why you hate the military. Everyone praises them for their service and for the first time in a long time he hears this.

"None of your business stranger." your voice turned cold towards him. You always hoped to find it inside you to forgive the world and the people in it for taking away your hero. Your father. But as each day passes, the hate only grows. It makes you miss all the screaming matches you shared with your father.

"Simon. My name’s simon riley. Everyone in base calls me ghost." Simon starts. He kinda feels like your hate towards the military is because something happened in your life. And he is totally right.

"Okay, Simon. I‘m Y/N. Y/N L/N." you tell him too.

"wait… you’re the daughter of f/n?" he asks you with genuine interest in his voice. You turn to look at him. "You know him?" you ask him. "The man that walked into a burning building just to save the people inside? How does someone not know him? Our captain talks about him sometimes… is he the reason why you hate the military?" Simon is shocked about his sudden behavior. Why does he care? Why does he keep talking to this woman he just met. What if it’s a trap? What if-

"Yeah. You can say that… You must be old old if you know him" you joke. It’s been 24 years since you lost your dad. You were 5, waiting for him to return, but he never did…

"Nah. I‘m 37. But I heard of him from the news." when I was also about to join , is what he wanted to add. You would have guessed him younger than he actually is. 37, you think. He is pushing his 40s. And you’re 29.. But why do you even cate about the age difference? It’s not like you’re ever gonna see hin again, right?

wrong.

"So… why are you here?" he asks just to cut the uncomfortable silence between the two of you. "Trying to get my mind off of some things. Why are you here? And why have I never seen you here before?" you ask him. It’s a strange thing that you have never seen him before.

"Well, I was just walking around and saw this beautiful place. Thought I‘d stop by. And now I‘m here." he answers your question. You look at him for a moment and then turn back to watch yourself on the surface of the water running by. "Are you always here?" he asks. He wants to know if he’s ever going to see you again. Because something inside of him tells him that he needs to get to know you better.

"Yeah, most of the time." you don’t look up at him as you answer his question. But Simon gets an idea. It’s going to cause for him to get out of his comfort zone. He doesn’t even know why he wants to keep talking to you. I mean, he just met you. But it feels like his heart is telling him to keep talking to you. His heart tells him to get to know you better. "Why don’t we meet again in two weeks, the same time and same day?" he suddenly said and he can feel his face burning under his mask. He starts feeling stuff he never felt before. This feels so strange for him.

"Why two weeks?" you ask him and finally look at his face again. For a moment, Simon forgot how to talk again. He felt like he lost his ability to talk again. You shake your head and wait for an answer, causing him to gain the ability to talk again.

"Deployment. I‘m not here in England for two weeks"

"okay. See you in two weeks, Simon 'Ghost' Riley" you pat his shoulder as you walk past him. He stands there, still, trying to process what just happened.

"Holy fuck" he mutters under his breath. He just wanted to go on a walk and now he has a 'date' in two weeks. The antisocial man did this.

Now he cannot wait for the day to arrive.

[wildrosesayshigh3]

Rant

This is just a rant post so if you don't want to read me rant about Snape scroll. Its long.

Now this is coming from a Shen Jiu Stan but they can never make me like you Severus Snape. The way I loathe this man is like saying hell is hot an understatement.

Severus 'one of my students greatest fear' Snape they could never make me like you.

Severus 'I can't tell a difference when one of students have been physically altered that a blind man could see it'' Snape please choke.

Severus 'Manhandle a curious student after leaving them alone with caludron full of your worst moments' Snape please meet a Basilisk or Medusa.

Severus 'Its okay for a random woman and her child to die but not Lily no mention of Lily's husband or child' Snape I hope an AK hits right in the balls.

Severus 'demeaning other houses is the reason why other kids don't want to get to know the snakes' Snape rot.

Severus 'I allowed students to be totured and allowed other students to toture. Thus making it so that the stigma towards the house of snakes so strong that it takes your most hated 'bully' grandchild to fix' Snape burn.

Severus 'I can't use my vaulted intelligence to help a single student not even those of my own house' Snape die.

Severus 'I choose to become a death eater of my own free will and ignored my childhood friends and obsession's advice' Snape I hope hell is comfortable.

Severus 'I could have left the goddamn country for a fresh start because I'm in the later half of the 20th century were travel is easily accessible' Snape why?

Severus 'It took a child who you have been teaching for 5 years to excel in potions within weeks of reading a book you wrote in as a teenager which means you could teach well or at least give good instructions but choose not to or your an idoit' Snape you are the human equivalent of a participation award.

Severus 'It just slipped out calling my 'crush' slur that undermines her very existence' Snape I hope you stub your pinky toe over and over in hell.

Severus 'I knowing didn't raise to much of a fuss when the greatest wizard since Merlin is sending a CHILD to be martyred for the greater good even though the CHILD is lily's' Snape I wish I knew less of you (and I know so little).

Severus 'I blame all the bad things on a 21 who matured and died for his family and never bother with self refection' Snape what is the point of you?

Severus 'I had over a decade of life without Lily Evans or James Potter and yet still didn't seem to grow past there shadow' Snape you are one of the most pathetic grown fictional men I've ever encountered and I've been onto anime and manga since I was 8 and I've read cultivation novels.

Severus 'I followed a suspend werewolf into a narrow cavern of my own free will and not being tricked at all and still blame Sirius Black like he held a wand to my head' Snape you are the smallest man to have ever lived.

There's more but this is just what was at the top of my head. This was prompted due to TikTok posts that raise the Marauder Era snakes like they made the fandom and are better that the Marauders. Not every bad person needs a shit backstory they can just be bad people. (Hint: Puberty is sucky)

Plus somehow blaming Sirius for leaving regulus behind. Like they forget a teenager is still a child. And then the hatred for lily by jegulus Stans and the hatred of James by Severus Stans who are convinced both snakes were angels from god in their school years just pissed me all the way off.

Cause it's not like we know more about Snape than we do any of the other adult characters baring maybe Dumbles the Manipulator himself. Oh......wait.

Also having a shit past does not give you an excuse to be a shit person. You can't change the past but the present and the future are yours to command.

So the "bullying" he received make him suffer. Thousands of people get bullied, thousands go through abuse by their parent or someone they trusted and they don't take it out on children or those around them continuously for years. What makes Severus Snape so damn special that he gets a pass?

Also I put the bullying in quotations because I don't for a single second bye that Snape didn't snap back. That he didn't give as good as he got. No for once I believe the Manipulator did what he did best when he called the tension between Snape and James a rivalry. It probably was just shy of violence and visceral hatred between the two. Though with both sides friends ganging up on the other after particularly bad moments. Also McGonagall showed no hesitance in taking 150 points from her 'favorite' students after she caught them cutting curfew. So no I don't think she'd allow bullying. And I don't Slughorn would allow a potential connection to be bullied without stepping in if only to get on his good side.

Also before someone gets into the comments and calls me a hypocrite about liking Shen Jiu. I am well fucking Shen Jiu is a child abusers. I'm not condoning or dismissing that. Hell I would be cheering Bingge on as he rose to the top just to spite Shen Jiu. And while I think what he did to Cang Qiong and Yue Qingyuan was harsh and what he did to Shen Jiu was excessive. Karma. Very child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth-esque. So no kicking Shen Jiu in the teeth would be satisfying.

But Shen Jiu showed potential to be good or at least improve, through yingye. Yingye who was close and loyal to him since day one. Yingye who he failed because he didn't/couldn't be better.

So what I love about Shen Jiu is his potential. The young Shen Jiu who pretended to break his leg so his stupid and too kind older brother could escape. The Shen Jiu who waited in an absuive situation because he promised. The Shen Jiu who hide the true reason for the Qiu massacre because one person showed him a once of kindness. The potential to be healed and to heal others in turn. To take in those he considers his with passion and feral-ness that was breathtakingly destructive. To become a protector. Or an explorer or anything really.

[erimeows]

Partnership

It’s warm as you and Seven sit on the roof of his house, watching the stars in the dark night sky.

When he thinks you aren’t paying attention to him, he does his best to memorize your face; (s/c) skin, (e/c) eyes, a kind smile, kissable lips. God, how he wishes he could kiss you. Briefly, the thought crosses his mind. He’s always loved making impulse decisions. Really, he could just reach over and press his lips against yours right now… But he knows he shouldn’t- for so many reasons.

First off, you don’t truly know him. You know that he has a dark past and that he’s a secret agent- you’re his ‘partner’ who he’s frequently paired with for missions that require more than one person. Still, you don’t truly understand his personal life, even though you frequent his house and spend time with him whenever the two of you don’t have much to do. Maybe… If you saw the person outside of the jokes, the hacking skills, and the fun nights spent speeding down empty roads after successful missions, you wouldn’t like him. Who would? That person- the one who he is when he’s sad and alone- is insecure, angry, and bitter. Someone as wonderful as you deserves better.

At least, that’s what Seven convinces himself. While he’s certain that you would reject him, the scariest part is what would happen if you didn’t. If you, another agent, fell in love and got into a relationship with him. What if you died? What if he died? What if his father or the agency came after you? It’s not worth the risk. You’re a dangerous, talented agent, but you’re not nearly as dangerous as Seven. 

So, he can’t pursue you, no matter how desperately he wants to do so. He trusts you more than anyone. That’s good enough. 

“Tell me a secret,” You say, turning your head to look over at the man. Your (h/l) (h/c) hair fans out beneath your head, and your gorgeous (e/c) eyes sparkle underneath the starlight. “A really good one.”

“I have lots of secrets,” Seven responds, turning to face you as well. Curiosity laces your face, but much like him, you remain careful- guarded. One hand remains in your pocket at most times, most likely gripping the handle of a weapon. “But none of them are good. You know what they say- no one can know about the pasts of cats and hackers.”

“They also say that superheroes tend to have tragic backstories. So, Mr. Defender of Justice, why don’t you tell me yours?”

“You really wanna know about my life? You swear you won’t tell a soul?”

“Of course.”

“Well, I’m the illegitimate son of the Prime Minister. Seriously, the guy’s been trying to kill me for years, it’s kind of embarrassing how bad of a job he’s done,” Seven explains rather casually, even offering a shrug when you shoot him a confused glance. “I have a twin brother who means the world to me, but I went into this line of work to support him escaping from our abusive mom… And, as I’m sure you know, because of the work we do, I can never see him again.”

You hum and sit up, placing your hands on the concrete of the roof. You reach down to touch Seven, and while he doesn’t stop you, he flinches. You caress his face, then run a gentle hand through his hair. He stops to wonder, has he ever been touched like this? Maybe, when he was little, he and Saeran would cuddle on the floor of the basement to stay warm during the winter- comb each other’s dirty hair out with their fingers to keep it from getting matted- hug each other before Seven went anywhere, just in case it was the last time, because with their father hunting them down and their mother hating their existence, ‘tomorrow’ and ‘later’ were never guaranteed. 

Seven pauses, his eyes fluttering shut. This relationship that the two of you have developed is far deeper than it should be for two coworkers who are strictly forbidden from developing attachments. Seven doesn’t even deserve to have what’s left of RFA, and now he has you, too? No- he shouldn’t let you get too close. At least, not any closer than you are now. Everyone around him always ends up miserable, hurt, or dead. 

“I hope you get to see your brother again,” You whisper.

“I think,” Seven pauses, allowing his eyes to flutter shut. “It’s best that I don’t. I’m not who I was back then.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

Seven opens his eyes to glance at you. You’re hovering over him slightly, your hand now resting against the side of his neck. He’s forced to push away the memories of his mother’s two hands wrapped around it, to compose himself instead of freaking out on instinct. 

“...I don’t know. Different isn’t always bad, but I’m a dangerous person. I want him to be safe.”

“Then… I hope he’s safe- always- if that’s what’ll make you happy.”

“Yeah. I hope so, too,” Seven smiles and pulls away from you to sit up. You rest your head on his shoulder. The smell of your shampoo- your perfume- your everything- floods his senses. He doesn’t stop you, even if he knows he should. “Hey, why don’t you tell me a secret?”

“I don’t really have any. I had a talent for this sort of thing… Did acrobatics for a while, learned how to hack, did some self defense classes and weapons training when I was young… A friend of a friend told me about the agency at a time I was desperate for money and I went ahead with it because I was bored with my life and wanted a fresh start; to be someone exciting, doing something meaningful,” You sigh. “Though, I was convinced by the friend of a friend that the agency was doing good work rather than… Well, rather than what we’re doing, but by the time I realized, I was already in far too deep. You know as well as I do what happens if we leave.”

Seven swallows. Neither of you have to say it- if you leave the agency, they keep sending the remaining agents after you until you’re dead and not a trace of you or your former life is left. Supposedly, they go after your loved ones, too. The agency shouldn’t know about Saeran, but now Seven has to worry about you and the RFA, too. If he or you ever wanted to leave, you’d have to do it together and in a way where no one could find you. You’d have to uproot your entire lives, go to a different country, and potentially even cut contact with all of your friends.

“Right.”

“It’s past midnight,” You stand up and stretch, looking at the stars one last time. “I should get going.”

Seven glances at his phone, only to see a barrage of notifications on the RFA messaging app. He thinks to convince you to stay the night- to sleep in his bed while he takes the couch so he can enjoy your presence for a little while longer- but the thought dies on his tongue at the sight of a new user on the notification bar.

MC has entered the chatroom.

…What the hell?

“Yeah,” Seven half-heartedly nods and rushes to open the messenger. The messages move so fast from the organization’s panic at an unauthorized user that he can barely read them. “See you later, (y/n). Text me when you get home safe.”

~

The next twenty four hours prove to be Seven’s personal hell. Whilst dealing with the chaos of MC joining the organization very suddenly, V’s peculiar reaction to the situation, Yoosung’s paranoia, and ‘Unknown’ trying to hack into both the messenger and Seven’s personal devices, Seven gets assigned a mission by the agency that he has to go on alone. 

Normally, the two of you have a system; Seven hacks into the place’s data bases to get their information, you go in and do what needs to be done- whether that be stealing something, gathering extra information, or even killing and kidnapping someone. It works beautifully, so when he was told that this was a situation delicate enough that he would have to do it all alone, he panicked.

The panic… Was for a good reason.

After finishing the mission, Seven is barely able to drive himself home. He considers calling Vanderwood for help before remembering that the man would only scold him and drag him back home to catch up on the hacking work he’s been neglecting lately. So, he drives through the late night- early morning- hell, he isn’t sure what time it is. All he’s sure of is that the wind is blowing through his blood-matted hair as it glides over the top of his convertible’s sunroof, and that he is incredibly dizzy when he arrives home.

He parks the car in his parking garage and forgets to close the damn thing before stumbling out and heading towards the door. He grumbles the passcode to the security system in Arabic and trudges in, only to nearly jump out of his skin when he sees you sitting on the living room couch.

And, for a moment, the two of you just stare at each other; Seven leaning against the doorway, you sitting on the couch, his golden eyes pouring into your (e/c) ones. There’s normally such a casual nature between the two of you. Seven hasn’t ever seen you upset, even, but as you stand up and march towards him, he can see the concern and anger on your face at seeing his injuries.

“Jesus Christ, what happened to you?” You question.

“(y/n),” Seven walks past you and into the living room, unable to meet your eyes for any longer. The house was a mess when he left with chip packets, soda cans, and dirty laundry strewn about, but now, it’s spotless. You must’ve cleaned it for him… He can’t help but feel guilty. “What are you doing here?”

“You haven’t messaged me in hours. Zen said you missed seven chat rooms in a row today,” You frown and walk towards Seven. Seven rolls his eyes at the thought of Zen ratting him out- coincidentally, the actor has been your workout buddy since Seven introduced the two of you, so of course he would tell you that the normally active Seven hasn’t been online all day. He’d be lying if he said he weren’t jealous of Zen, and especially of Zen’s friendship with you, but he’s never mentioned it. He doesn’t deserve you, after all. “I just thought I’d check on you… What happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Seven shakes his head and shrugs your hand off of him. Though he acts disgusted by your touch, emptiness wells up in his heart the second you clasp your hands together and stare down at the ground. “You should just go back to yours.”

“What? But no one else is here to take care of you-”

“I don’t want to be taken care of.”

“Seven, you look like shit,” You point out.

Seven shrugs again. Sure, his face is bruised, his hair and torn clothes are drenched in blood, he’s covered in sweat, and he has scrapes all over his body, but he’s seen worse. Being caught by the two guards and beaten to a pulp before securing the files and escaping is the least of what Seven has been through in his lifetime. As much as he would love to have someone around to care for him after the rougher missions like this one, he doesn’t feel as if it’s fair to subject some poor unfortunate person to being his safe haven- especially if that person is you. 

“I always look like shit.”

“I mean, maybe, but you’re usually not-” Seven coughs into his hand, effectively cutting you off as a streak of mixed spit and blood drips onto his palm. “Jesus, are you coughing up blood?”

“Nah, it’s not that bad. Just a busted lip… And I’m pretty sure a couple of my back teeth are loose,” Seven groans and sits down on the couch, wiping his palms on his dirty jeans. He’s definitely going to have to book a dental appointment soon to get his loose teeth fixed… Or maybe pulled out. Who knows. There’s a reason why you’re usually the one to do infiltration work while he’s behind the scenes on a computer; you’re much more graceful and subtle than he is, so you can get in and out of places without being caught- a skill that Seven has realized he doesn’t have. “No need to worry about it!”

Seven turns on his phone to see multiple missed chatrooms, just as you described. Even worse, the new member, MC, seems to be concerned that he’s been gone for so long. Seven quickly enters the chatroom and offers everyone a half-assed reassurance that he was just busy with work, along with some light-hearted jokes.

“What are you doing on your phone right now?” You demand, arms crossed over your chest. “Shouldn’t you be attending to- you know- this?”

Your arms are thrown up in a wild gesture to Seven’s battered body. For what must be the millionth time that night, he shrugs.

“I’ve gotta make a good impression on the new member, y’know? Don’t want her to worry too much about me- hell, none of the others really know what this work is like!”

“So you’re fine with me worrying about you, but not them?”

“(y/n),” Seven sighs, quickly excusing himself from the chatroom after finishing reassuring everyone that he was just ‘busy with work’ and that he’s ‘totally fine’. He blankly stares up at you. All along, he knew he shouldn’t have let you get so close, but… He’s a selfish man, and he can’t help himself. He does love you, but now, because he’s let you get this close to him, you’re concerned enough to waste your night on him. Maybe it was a mistake to be friends, rather than merely work partners like the two of you were instructed by the agency. “I never told you to worry about me.”

“We’re partners, Seven.”

“Yeah, we are. We’re partners at an agency that doesn’t care about us- an agency that explicitly told us not to get emotionally attached to each other to avoid situations like this! Why don’t you just leave like everyone else?”

“Why are you acting like this?” You question, clearly upset, but still somehow keeping your calm as you sit down next to Seven- perhaps too close. You don’t even seem bothered by the mix of his and other people’s blood, dirt, and dust that’s all over him. “Is it just because you’re hurt? You’ve never been this mean before- it’s like you’re a different person!”

“I’m not acting like a different person, it’s just that you never really knew me that well,” Seven admits. “I hid this side of myself for a reason, y’know…”

Tears well up in your eyes. A pang of guilt tears through Seven’s chest. Right as he considers reaching out for you, you turn your back to him. 

“So you’re telling me that every night we’ve spent together has been a lie?”

“No, it’s not-”

“If you’re going to do this, Seven, commit to it. Has it all been a lie or not? Because you’re making it sound like you’re a totally different person and that the version of you I’ve spent all this time with isn’t really you,” You turn around to look at Seven once more with tears in your eyes. Everything Seven has done to keep you at a distance has been to make sure that you’re safe. Now, though, it’s clear that he’s hurt you deeply with what he’s said. “But I don’t think you’re telling the truth. You’re pushing me away because you have your own problems… I get it, I’m not perfect either, but it’s not fair for you to assume that… That I don’t…”

“What?”

You swallow deeply, a blush on your cheeks.

“That I don’t want to be closer to you,” You finally admit, your voice barely even a whisper. Seven feels his face turn red as well. “That I don’t love you. Why else would I want to take care of you when you’re wounded? Why else would I be so worried that you disappear for a day at a time without saying anything? You think I just run around stargazing and caring for every other member of the agency I’ve been partnered with?”

“Well, no, but-” Seven argues, only for you to cut him off.

“But what? There’s no ‘buts’ here. I thought we’d made progress last night, and that I’d finally gotten you to open up… Seven, when you love someone, you don’t just want to see them at their best. You make me laugh, and you’re wonderful, but I want more than that. I want to take care of you when you’re hurt and when you’re sick, I want to be the shoulder you cry on… I want to hold your hand and make you feel better after a long day,” You start to stand up and head for the door. “If you don’t want that, though… I guess I understand. It’s my fault for getting my hopes up, considering our line of work. I’ll just leave-”

“Wait!” Seven objects, to which you look over at him again. A shocked expression takes over your face. He wants, more than anything, to tell you that he loves you, but the words seem to die on his tongue. He hasn’t said them in years. So, instead, he starts with- “Please… Take care of me. I want you to, too, and… I’ll cry on your shoulder, if I need to.”

You smile at that, then walk back over to where Seven is sitting and offer him your hand.

“C’mon. Let’s go to the bathroom and get you cleaned up, yeah? I’ll wash your hair.”

“Okay,” Seven agrees and takes your hand. You help him up, then guide him to his bathroom. “But only if I can wash yours, too, ‘kay?”

You laugh.

“Sure thing, Seven.”

~

Later that night, the two of you are in Seven’s bed, lying side by side. You both smell of his bubblegum shampoo and soap, and though he misses the smell of yours that normally lingers on you, he’s relieved that the two of you are finally settled after the night you’ve had. His bruises have been iced, his cuts are bandaged, and your warmth envelops his body as you rest your head on his chest and curl into his side.

“Thanks for fixing me up and keeping me company, (y/n). I really don’t deserve it after how I acted earlier… I’m sorry,” Seven apologizes as he reaches over for the nightstand lamp. 

While the two of you didn’t discuss it, he assumes you’re staying the night- or, he hopes you are, at least. 

“It’s no problem. Even superheroes need a little help sometimes,” You chuckle and press a kiss against the exposed skin of Seven’s shoulder. “Seven…”

“Hey,” Seven nuzzles into your hair and kisses the top of your head. “My name is Saeyoung, so you can call me that when we’re alone.”

“Okay, then, Saeyoung. Is that all you have to say? Because I think there’s something else you’re forgetting to tell me.”

“No, um… Well, I don’t say these words often, so it’s taking me a lot of courage to say them, but I love you, (y/n).”

“I love you too,” You respond and pull the blankets tightly around the two of you before settling against Saeyoung. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, (y/n).”

[nfcv-saltmine]

From a tumblr user:

The absolute lol. Was Jesus scared that God would hurt humans for killing him? I didn't read the Bible, but somehow, I doubt so.

Would you say God, despite Jesus' words, would have been justified in not only killing the ones directly responsible for Jesus' death, but every single person on earth had he chosen to? If so, your morals worries me. Are we even allowed to exist, if bad people also exist?

I get that N!Dracula is a fictional character, and you are allowed to like him. There's nothing wrong with liking villains. You can UNDERSTAND a villain, too, because unlike what some people think, understanding ≠ agreeing. But here, you ARE agreeing with the obvious villain obviously in the wrong?? Really?? There was literal children and babies in the victims! There was people who weren't even there when Lisa died, people who don't even know who she is and that she ever existed- This is literally so stupid. LISA HERSELF WAS AGAINST GENOCIDE, AND SHE WAS THE FUCKING VICTIM. How are YOUR morals better than those who cheered for her death, for a woman they were made to believe was a witch (it's not as if they thought they were witnessing an innocent'd death, as cruel and wrong the witch trials were, it's important to remember they were convinced the people getting executed were evil), if you yourself cheer for these people's deaths??

Lisa doesn't even believe in God. So she doesn't believe in Jesus. So you're really implying that she, an atheist, used words from the Bible she doesn't believe in, to manipulate the crowd and the priests into sparing her? You know you're allowed to think about your words for more than five seconds before posting, right?

Worst is, it wouldn't be too far fetched to see N!Lisa as a woman Jesus. The original Lisa, in game, literally got crucified. The difference is that she, unlike her show counterpart: isn't from a media with a massive CHURCH BAD mentality. Doesn't beg her husband to not commit genocide, because weirdly, she doesn't assume the worst from the man she loves! Actually accept her death because, as much as she didn't chose to be executed, she still hope that it would appease the people and help them somehow. Because she cared about every single one of them, even those who hated her. And even directly tells her son "do not hate humans. If you cannot live with them, then at least, do them no harm." wich has a different ring to it than "PLEASE HUBBY DON'T KILL THOSE PEOPLE PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE". Oh and she also said that in response to Alucard being ready to help her, probably worried that he might harm people in the process.... Unlike N!Lisa who assumed N!Dracula would hurt people just because. ❤️

I hope people realize one day that you are supposed to be on the side of the guy who actually respects the victim's, his dead mother, wishes. And not on the side of the guy who ignored them completely and tried to kill everybody because oh boohoo me sad. Me loved wife so much yet me won't respect her wishes to not kill the humans she really cared about. :(

[twelvroses]

LIZ's DIARY - 16/07/24. mentioned: @dreamquest @fiixion @yunzip @pinkscaped ♡ (& ahin lol)

The latest episode of Dreamquest just aired; I’m writing this in my dorm. Have I even written about my dorm? I can’t remember the last time I actually had the time to sit down and write, I think it was just before the show started… I used to be so diligent about keeping this diary, but life has gotten so hectic. I’m sharing a room with Yoon and Miyu. Both of them seem nice, but it’s a little awkward. Since we were all on different teams, I don't know how to approach them them because I'm not sure if they see me as a friend or just someone they'll need to beat. I wish I was the type of person who could start a conversation with anyone, but I just don’t know how to keep it going. The words don’t come for me. I haven't really bonded with any of the other girls, and I can tell that some of the other girls think I’m a bitch, but everyone always thinks I’m a bitch and I can live with that. Sani is really nice, though, she's really really cute, and she was so nice to me after the Fancy performance, so I think it'd be fun to be on a team with her at some point. But it would be really nice if I could at least befriend my dormmates too. I mean, assuming none of us get eliminated, they’re gonna be the first and last people I see every time I wake up or go to bed. Don’t you think that kinda sets the tone for your entire day? Even if none of us make it, it still would be nice to have some friends. That reminds me, now that I’m at Valentine, I hope I get a chance to meet the Medusa girls soon. I’ve always really liked Choi Gain sunbaenim. She just comes out and says whatever she’s thinking, no matter who’s listening or how many cameras are on her. I’ve been trying to be like that, but like everything else I try to say, it dies in my throat. Maybe if I get to hang out with her, it’ll rub off on me a little bit. 

Anyway, I won't have chance of meeting Medusa if Valentine drop me, and they might do just that, cause the CEO already told me that he expects big things from me. He told me to keep my sights set on top 5, because this is the very first time Valentine has EVER sent a trainee to a debut show, and I’m their only trainee, so if I totally flop, it’ll be really embarrassing for them, and I feel like the whole place is built on one man's very flimsy ego so he'll probably just drop me. We got to see our rankings and right now, I’m at nine. It’s not too bad, and so I want to be proud of it, but I know it’s not good enough. It doesn’t feel fair. I didn’t get a single solo line in Genie! How the hell am I supposed to get screen time and convince people to vote for me if I’m not being given the same opportunity to sing as some of the others? I wonder if the showrunners think I can’t sing because I rap. 

I also hate my new CEO, Yoo Seobin. He walks around like a weirdo mafia boss. You know, Ahin sunbaenim told me that when they go out for company dinners, he makes him, Choi Gain and Kwon Harin sit at a separate table with him. It’s supposed to be a ‘leaders privilege,’ but he’s kind of just keeping them away from the party. He thinks he’s the godfather, or something. Like it's an honour to sit with him. If I end up in a Valentine group, I pray to god that I’m not the leader. I’d hate to sit and drink with him. Did you see his fucking press release about me? He talked about how I was hypnotizing and my beauty was unmatched or something… Like he’s a married, middle aged man. It's so weird and I'm really worried if he keeps talking about me like that, people will start making up rumours. Even the thought makes me want to throw up. I wore the baggiest clothes I own last time I had to go to his office, and he still kept looking at me weird. Ahin sunbaenim said I can wear one of his sweaters next time, because if he sees me in boy's clothes he might assume I have a boyfriend and back off. It’s kind of cute that he thinks that would work. 

But Ahin sunbaenim is nice. I’m even going to record a demo for him next week. It’s not gonna be for me in the end, I think he’s just gonna send it out to a bunch of labels and see who wants the song, but I’m getting paid for recording so it’s already the most legit gig than I’ve had in about five years. He’s fun to hang out with. I think he has a little bit of a crush on me, but for once that doesn’t bother me. I think it’s just refreshing to come across a guy, especially one who’s a bit older than I am, who isn’t so fucking leery and demanding. He doesn’t even flirt or anything, he just gets shy around me and it’s easy to make him blush. It’s funny. And he does have a nice smile.

I just realised I'm writing about boys in my diary so I'm going to stop now because I'm not twelve. Kwon Ahin is the last thing I need to be thinking about right now. What I need to do is win this competition. I really hope, like really really really hope that I can rap in the next round. Like a proper rap that wasn’t written by fucking JYP, I mean. I’m really regretting singing for my audition. My first choice was Payday by Yoon Mirae but Seobin told me I had to pick something recent. If I’d pulled off a Yoon Mirae song I think I might be way higher in the ranks by now. But if I don’t get to rap there’s no way I’m gonna crack the top five. And if I get kicked from Valentine, it’s like losing the biggest opportunity I’ve ever had. I feel like I might just be setting myself up for one big joke. I couldn’t even rise up the popularity rankings of Bouquet. Do you know how easy it is to be more popular than a Bouquet member? Most idols who debut achieve it on their first day without even knowing cause they probably don’t know who Bouquet are. Were. Also, FUCK OHJANG ENTERTAINMENT.

I owe more money than I’ve earned, my parents lost all enthusiasm for this path for me a long time ago… I can’t even remember what it felt like for them to take pride in me. Honestly I started writing this entry because I thought I was going to end it by affirming to myself that this would be a turning point and I’d ace it from here on out, but I kinda feel worse than when I started writing. I should go to bed. I have to get up early to get some practice in before official practice starts, and if the girls who ranked lower than me find out I’m whining and moping about ranking 9th, they’ll think I’m even more of a bitch than they already do.

Well, just wish me luck in the next round, I guess!

[gimme-noodles-please]

cw: kinda angst?, third realm spoiler alert, first person pov

author’s note: i was eating while i had this idea djwkdjw i just finished alkaid’s route and i was so sad 😭 my parents were arguing and my father was ranting at me while i was writing this so it is a little scuffed

————————-•••—————————

i woke up with a jolt, finding myself in the now familiar vine hammock in the depths of the forest. the sound of crickets and occasional hooting of owls managed to calm the fast beating of my heart. it’s okay, everything is safe. nothing bad will happen. i try to reassure myself.

ever since the end of the fourth era, all Asars have been living together in peace, flora and fauna has returned to the Spirit World once more, including the areas affected by the corrosion. under the guidance of the remaining three Spirit Leaders, all was well. there was no more threat of the corrosion, no more threat of a so-called “god” from somewhere out of this world.

yet, it feels empty

i let out a loud sigh, though it was in the middle of the night, i just couldn’t seem to fall asleep. eventually i dragged myself off the make-shift hammock and find myself back at the familiar tree; the tree that once was the only way to go up to the Sky Fortress. i slowly sat myself down, leaning against the trunk of the huge tree. why was i here? i don’t know. perhaps i just wanted to find remnants of him, anything, to at least momentarily convince myself he is still in this world, somewhere, so at least i can have a restful sleep.

once again i find myself quickly drifting back to sleep. it was the same dream as always; we were at the Sky Fortress, his larger hands holding mine so gently, it was almost as if he was afraid he would break me. “bend down a bit.” i instructed him, noticing his slightly confused look before nodding and tilting his head down. i grinned as i lifted the wreath of flowers in my hands to place onto his head, however was quickly encountered with the problem of his antlers. i breathed in deeply, ideas running through my head to counter this problem, instead settling to pluck a flower from the wreath to tie onto one of his antlers, sheepishly holding the wreath against my chest. “i tried.” i laughed slightly, embarrassed by my attempt. he smiles softly and shakes his head, “no, it’s pretty.” i found my eyes searching his, only to find nothing but love and admiration. i wished this moment could last longer

the next thing i knew was the tower, the altar. alkaid’s smile. his soft voice. it is okay, he reassured me with a pained smile. i couldn’t help the tears from falling down my cheeks as i hugged him close. “please, please don’t do this. there must be some other way!” i pleaded, hugging him tighter as if it could make him stay. but he has already made up his mind. “it is my greatest desire to do this. for my people, for the safety of our world… and for you.” i shake my head, holding his face between my hands such that he would be facing me. his eyes, his sad eyes betrayed the smile he had put on to try comfort me, it just broke my heart even more.

“don’t cry. i’m sorry.” he murmured, his hand reaching up to brush my tears away. i tilt my face towards the warmth of his hand, snuggling against it. “please, don’t leave.” i begged, my voice cracking with emotion, perhaps by whatever miracle he would change his mind. but his mind was already set.

“goodbye y/n”

.

.

.

i woke up once again, the morning sunlight was thankfully shielded by the thick leaves and branches of the tree.

i regretted it. i regretted so many things. there was so much i didn’t manage to say to him. i closed my eyes, leaning against the tree.

i didn’t manage to tell him

“i love you”

[dragonologist-phd]

Piper & Companions - First Impressions vs Final Opinion

Tag game: Give your KC’s first impression and final opinion of each of their companions!

tagged by @dujour13! thank you!

i've already lost track of who's done this, so if you want to do it (or do it again), i'm tagging you! yes, you!

First Impressions

Seelah: “Wonderful- on top of everything else I have to deal with, there’s also a Paladin. At least this one seems to have a better spirit about it than most.”

Camellia: "There's a rich girl if I've ever seen one. She sure does remind me of someone..."

Lann: "Odd fellow. I can't decide if he's smart or an idiot. Either way, he thinks far too highly of me. But I think I like him."

Wenduag: "Someone who looks like that has a lot of nerve bad-mouthing tieflings. Unfortunately, she seems useful right now."

Woljif: "Him, I understand. And I just might take him up on that offer to leave before things get too messy. Thieves and outcasts gotta stick together, yeah?"

Ember: "What is she doing here? Why does she insist on sticking around? Someone needs to be responsible for her, and I really don't think I'm the right person for that."

Daeran: "Ugh. All I wanted to do was steal some silverware, now I'm stuck with the most obnoxious person in Mendev."

Nenio: "She certainly has her own set of priorities. And if nothing else, she knows how to provide a good distraction."

Ulbrig: "Is he really as old as he says he is? Or is he just as crazy as he seems? It's getting harder and harder to tell the difference these days."

Galfrey: "She's a tough one to read. But I must have convinced her I know what I'm doing if she's trusting me- me!- with the Crusade. I hope she never realizes how much of this I'm making up as I go."

Sosiel: "An absolute dear! I could talk about art with him all day long. I can't imagine what possessed him to go to war, of all things, but I'm glad he's here. That's probably selfish of me, but there you go."

Regill: "Huh. I thought he'd be gargoyle food by now. Pity."

Trever: "Nobody should have to go through this. I'm going to get him out of here, and then I'm going to burn this place to the ground."

Arueshalae: "I know this voice...I just never imagined it belonged to a succubus. Maybe I'm the fool for getting close to her, but she helped us- and more than that, Desna vouched for her. That's enough for me."

Greybor: "He's shrewd; people underestimate the value of that. That's why I don't trust him beyond what I pay him. He can say what he wants, but contracts are broken every day."

Aivu: "I have no idea what's happening anymore but yes of course we're best friends!"

Final Opinion

Seelah: “She’s pretty amazing. I’d have died many times over if not for her, but it's more than that- nothing keeps her down, and she’s the most loyal friend I’ve ever had. I trust her, and coming from me? That's a big deal.”

Camellia: "I should have stopped her sooner, I know. I could justify my choices, but really...I was afraid of having to fight her. I ended up having to do that, anyway. I do wish it could have been different."

Lann: "Definitely an idiot. I thought we were friends, but- I don't know. I still like him enough to hope he stops trying to throw his life away, at least."

Wenduag: "I did give her a chance. I suppose I always knew what would happen, but- well, you can't blame me for hoping."

Woljif: "He's my best friend and my brother and still the only person who I think totally gets me. I'm proud of how far he's come- how far we've come."

Ember: "I guess she could take care of herself pretty well, in the end. She takes care of others, too. I still wish she didn't have to, but at least she's happy."

Daeran: "I still think he's the most obnoxious person in Mendev, but...he's grown on me. If nothing else, he's the perfect partner for wine and gossip."

Nenio: "It's funny- I've gone by a lot of names in my lifetime, and that's never bothered me. But I'm really glad she remembers this one."

Ulbrig: "An actual god, huh? I couldn't have made up a story this fantastical. It's going to make a great song."

Galfrey: "I wish her the best, but...things just aren't the same. Whatever friendship we might have had at one point, I don't think it can be recovered. I suppose I'm mature enough now to forgive, but still not enough to forget."

Sosiel: "Still an absolute dear. And I'm still glad to know him. He has a strength few people see; I feel lucky, to be able to see it."

Regill: "Maybe I was harsh on him at first. Not that he doesn't deserve it, but...he stuck by me, even when I really thought he wouldn't. I guess that counts for something."

Trever: "He's still a good man, and he deserves a good life. I don't know if he believes that yet, but he's getting there."

Arueshalae: "My sunshine, my miracle, my happy ending. I could write a ballad in her honor every day for the rest of my life, and it would never be enough to say how much I love her. She says I've made her a better person, but we all know it's really the other way around."

Greybor: "I don't care if he's the most feared assassin in the demon realms, I know the truth- he's a big old softie."

Aivu: "Still best friends. Still the best part about being an Azata!"

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

alcoholism fairies and bad decisions

drunk dean calls to tell cas they're going to end up together. eventually. wc: 2k

"Hi, hic , Cas."

Castiel, on his end of the call, puts his mug down on the counter. Icy cold coffee, with froth on the top. If Dean hadn't called him out of the blue, he would probably have sent him a picture of it in guise of documentation - or, well, to get him to tell him how much he wished to be there and drink it with him. If Dean hadn't called him drunk, he would at least have asked him to wait until he took a picture, with the froth all perfect and frothy. 

Given the circumstances, however, he sits down, and nets his eyebrows in a frown. 

"Dean? You okay?" 

Drunk calls weren't that rare, but they were usually pre-planned. Or at least, you know, he’s aware Dean’s drinking when it happens. 

"Oh!" Dean says, voice too bright and too loud. It’s like he’s somewhere that’s making it echo. "Of course. I'm drunk." 

"I can tell." Cas rolls his eyes, for absolutely no one's benefit. His coffee grows warmer, untouched. "Where are you?"

A hum resounds. "So - it's not my room. I can tell that much." 

"What the -” Cas swears under his breath. “Who're you with?" 

"Friends." Dean says, dismissively. "I'm safe, it's all safe. Familiar faces. I just came away for a bit because I wanted to talk to you." 

At that, Cas finally lightens. Stirs his cup (still admiring). "Uh-huh?" 

Friends wouldn't be enough to describe what they were. And yet - it was what either of them would've said. Rather, convinced themselves to say. 

They were the video-call-at-three-am, watch-the-worst-movie-known-to-man, a-football- match-just-afterwards-where-they-root-for-the-wrong-team and go-to-bed-consoling-each-other kinda friends. The kind who had nothing in common - from colleges, to friends, to hopes and dreams - but still let themselves be strung along for the ride and stuck together for whatever it counts. Texting day-in, day-out - with any excuse to think of the other person kinda friends. And the kind who didn't even get weird about girlfriends and boyfriends - which, well, both had, respectively - because they knew nothing would ever change what they had - and nothing could ever come close. 

At one point, they'd come close to dating. At two different points, they'd had larger-than-life cruhes on each other. And now? Now they just danced this familiar dance around each othis, toeing blurry lines - hands-tied behind their backs at risk of twirling too close and falling indubitably into each othis's arms.  

Oh, and they lived half a country apart. Thise was also that. 

"Uh-huh." Dean repeats, definitively. Then, more distracted, "Cas, the whiskey today, I swear to god . I should go get more." 

"You sound pretty whiskey-ed already, just FYI." 

"And you sound jealous." 

"Dude, I have coffee. The Castiel-Novak special, with the expensive kind of cream and all that schtick, because Gabriel just visited." He smirks. "I do not want to be drinking evil-tasting liquid hellfire right now, thankyouverymuch ." 

"Jea-lous." He sings, and Cas scoffs. 

Dean hiccups again, almost like he'd forgotten he was having hiccups for a while, and then remembered again, now that there was a lull in the conversation. 

"Oh, boy." 

"Dean, you okay?" Cas raises his eyebrows, repeating himself. Something sounded different about that oh boy. Not very average-drunk Dean, no, it wasn't. Cas is more or less a connoisseur by now. And he prides himself on it.

"I think so." 

"How do you feel now?" He asks, bordering the line of concerned again.

"Strangely happy." 

There's obviously a smile in his voice when he says it. Cas smiles too. "Oh. Why?" 

"'Cause I figured something out today, Cas." Dean didn't pause for questions, went on rambling. "Realized we're going to end up together. It’s final. And it's a strangely happy thought." Before Cas could say a thing, "Uh, I guess thoughts can't be happy. Or unhappy. The thought made me happy. Or not unhappy. Yeah, that makes more sense. I think." 

Cas just blinks. A warm feeling starts spreading in his chest that he doesn't exactly know how to define. Or, worse, confine . "How'd you figure that out?" 

Another smile in his voice, and this time, Cas can picture exactly what he looks like. Knowing, crinkled eyes, lips curled, head just a little bit quirked. (They'd only met once - a whopping 10-hour first-’non-date’-date that'd been, story for another time - but they'd been through enough movie nights at this point for him to know his I-know-what-happens-and-you-don't look.) "I'm not going to tell you." 

"Wh—"

"Because, you're not drunk . So you won't get it." 

"So the fairies of alcoholism and bad decisions deigned this upon you, did they?" 

"Maybe." He draws out the vowels. "Point is, I know it's true. End up together, you, me. Eventually. Boom." 

"Is that the sound of us having sex?" Cas snorts. The warmth has concentrated in his stomach, making it feel fluttery. He doesn't want to dwell on it too much - because he's so clearly drunk, and he has Jimmy - and things are not even that bad with him right now, really - but. But it’s not like he’s ever known how to not feel things when it comes to this dumbass. 

"I know you think you're kidding," Dean interrupts him, seriously. "But you're not that far from the truth. Keep seeking it."

"The truth of the sound of us — okay. Slightly too much alcohol for you, Dean." 

"Mmm-hm." Dean hums again. "Wait and watch." 

"Is that a threat or a promise?" Cas mumbles, out of habit. 

He knows this isn't exactly a normal conversation for them to be having - but he also can't say that it isn't something that has crossed his mind in the past. 

All that chemistry - all those times he’s been complaining about something and he’s known just the right thing to say, or do, or be - and then there was that one time that they met. Cas still can’t get it out of his head. He’s always had a good memory - but this is a different level of good. Maybe it’s not entirely normal to remember what it felt like to hug his friend at the train station before he left. How they fit just right against all of you. Only maybe. 

But then, it’s also impossible, right? They live hours away - and are certainly both the clingy, affectionate kind of fools who may think they can ace long-distance-relationships but are doomed from the beginning. Of course they are. Plus, he knows Dean has a girlfriend. And he has Jimmy. So yeah, things are fine right now - they’re safe, they’re innocent, okay, they’re half-innocent , half-kidding-themselves, but they’re safe and nothing is fucking them up right now. Because Cas, well, he can’t stand to lose his. 

It doesn’t matter how easy it’d be to remove Dean from his life tangibly since he’s barely there at all, outside of one of his top three chats on WA at all times, and the ever-so-occasional co-movie-marathoner — none of that matters, except from the fact, that two years into this strange friendship, and he’s forgotten what life was like, before. But in a good way. In a healthy, he-gets-him, matching-wavelengths-of-weird, tries-to-make-him-a-better-person-sometimes kind of way. 

So yeah, he can’t say the thought of a relationship hasn’t crossed his mind. He can’t even say that it’s ever really stopped crossing his mind. But Cas can’t have nice things, can he?  

"It's an omen ." 

Cas sighs. "You're so weird." 

"You love me." Dean justifies, as if somehow that makes him weirder than him. It might, but Cas doesn't want to think about that right now. 

"And you're a massive simp - as long as we're just stating facts." 

"I am." Dean sings, again. He sounds a lot mellower now. Tuckered-out would be the word, if he wasn’t all of twenty one. He sounded ready to drift off to sleep, like that forecast had tired him out entirely. A classic drunk-Dean move, Cas rolled his eyes. "And you love me." 

"Yeah, I do." He admits, a little quieter and is encouraged by another mmm-hm . 

"Okay. I love you too." Scuffling sounds, as if he's getting up. Something clutters and falls, sounding queerly like stationery. So he's not outside, then . Probably in, like, a closet or something. The sound of a knob follows, and then, when he speaks, it's a lot less echo-y — with the contrast, Cas can definitely pin it to the previous place being a closet. "I'm going to go back to my friends. Amara's here too, uh, I'm definitely being rude." 

(The girlfriend. Not an altogether bad person but severely, severely undeserving of him. 

Dean had to know that too.)

"It's fine. You’ll make it up to them." Cas consoles, trying to avoid the strange hollowness in his gut at the mental image of him cosying up next to Amara, drunk, trying to make it up to her - okay, that’s never come up before. 

(Not in this magnitude, at least.)

"Yeah, I will." he laughs. "G'night, buddy." 

"Yep." Only a little miffed, Cas repeats it. "G'night." 

"Don't forget, okay?" 

Cas knew he'd be lucky if Dean didn't forget this entire conversation in the morning. But he didn't want to push the conversation any longer and make it weird - for him, or for Amara . "I'll try not to, but not making any promises." Dean makes a sound of affectionate disapproval, and then there's the familiar holler in the backdrop, of a group of ‘friends’ - rewelcoming his to their midst. 

And that's that, for the night. 

Cas stares at his coffee, now almost irritatingly room-temperature-d. Finishes it off in a gulp, while staring at his phone for good measure. Maybe the fairies of caffeinism and moderately-okay decisions would grace him with a visit, but it didn't seem very likely. Dean also doesn’t text for the majority of the night, except a view-once image of Amara's roommate licking a beer bottle (he’s made generally unfunny jokes about setting Cas up with the roommate in the past, probably playing off of that) and Cas replies righteously with eggplant emojis. He then sends a goodnight, at like six am, when Cas has already worn himself out with thoughts - and their annoying brethren, feelings - and passed out on his own couch. 

Many years later - many Amara's and Jimmy's, moving-apart’s and mildly-closer’s, more degrees and a few salaries later - it happens. 

(Of course, it does.)

Dean claims to have known all along. Sunday morning, breakfast-ing in bed with bread-and-jam and Castiel-Novak-specials, Dean solemnly swears he’d seen it coming. Not that he’d gone out of his way to jeopardize anything else for it, nope, but that he’s always known. “ Seriously .”  

Cas laughs. Turns out, Dean didn't forget everything after all. But he did forget the call - too many inebriated misadventures in one night to recall life-changing conversations, of course - and Cas doesn't think he’ll tell him yet, that he’d known it equally long himself. Not right now , when Dean's half in his arms, Cas is halfways to shirtless, and they’re half a minute away from carefully sliding the plates and novelty mugs away to commence a different, but equally compelling Sunday-morning ritual altogether. And not when he’s this thrilled to be acting like a prophesier, an unbearable, inevitable all-knower, and the apparently- destined love of his life. 

Maybe, maybe some other time. 

[saras-devotionals]

Quiet Time 3/7

What am I feeling today?

dreamt again despite my best efforts, prayed over it a lot. feel sad, let down. traveling today but my parents can’t come with us. tried my best but my dads in pain and I sympathize. I know he wishes he could have come and it’ll be hard to be away from them, so yeah overall just sad and defeated. at least I get to go back to my home city 🥲

Bible Plan: Healing What’s Hidden

Prisoners of Hope

Trauma is subjective. If you feel as if what you went through was traumatic, it probably was. However, if you feel that your experience wasn’t traumatic, you may or may not be correct because trauma is tricky. It hides in the dark and trips us up when we least expect it. It tries to convince us that what we experienced was normal and to minimize it while stacking itself up against someone else who “had it worse.”

I tend to minimize a lot of what I have experienced by saying it wasn’t that bad. A therapist of mine once told me that just because someone may have had it worse, that does not erase my experience. I still endured pain and it still had an effect on me.

By its simplest definition, trauma is a deeply disturbing experience or series of experiences. If you have been abused (mentally, physically, spiritually, or sexually), been neglected, lost a loved one, survived an assault or natural disaster, or even lived in close proximity to someone who has experienced trauma—you have experienced trauma.

There’s a book I bought about a year ago. I bought it because upon reading the title, I started crying.

This stood out to me. I find myself as a very science based person. I’m in nursing and believe that there’s a lot of clinical reasoning behind what goes on in our bodies and minds. I have still yet to read this book but I want to because a therapist had also brought this up. My parents (especially my father) experienced a lot of trauma in their lives. And even if we ourselves have not experienced it, that trauma does carry on in our genetics (she used the example of how children of holocaust survivors had ptsd even though they themselves never experienced the horrors their parents did).

The first step in healing trauma is acknowledging its existence. We have to come to grips with the reality that what we experienced wasn’t normal. When we dismiss or excuse our trauma as simply a regular part of life, we deny its impact on us. We end up looking for remedies rather than getting to the roots of the problem.

This is something I want to continue working on. I spent some time talking to the women leader for the campus ministry about my life and experiences and she brought up that there were times when it sounded like I wanted to cry but denied it and therefore I was numbing myself. I acknowledge that now. A lot of times, I’ve tried over and over to relive and fix the trauma that I’ve gone through and in turn believed I healed. It hurts less sure, but it still hurts. And I think I just have a hard time discerning what’s healing and what’s numbing.

All around the world, God is redeeming what seems irredeemable: “He who was seated on the throne said, ‘Behold, I am making all things new’” (Revelation 21:5). Notice that God says he is making all things new, not that he is making all new things. God’s innate reaction to brokenness is restoration.

This is very comforting. He isn’t going to scrap us aside, but He’s going to restore us with what we already are.

Healing from trauma probably won’t bring you back to your pre-traumatized self because the scars will always be there. But the scars will remind you of what you’ve overcome. Someday, they will be a powerful testimony to others of what God has done in your life. There’s beauty in this kind of renewal. There’s richness in things that have been truly restored rather than cosmetically dressed up. In Zechariah, we read that we are “prisoners of hope” because God promises to restore what we have lost.

With this, I just want to further distinguish what in my life am I cosmetically dressing up and what has actually been healed in me. I feel as if my mind won’t allow me to go there even when I try. It’s like there’s a road block and blank slate even though I know there’s something behind it, I just don’t know what it is.

God knows exactly which parts of you are wounded and what will be required in order for them to heal. He has restored millions of wounded minds, bodies, and souls throughout history, and he is paying special attention to your wounds right now. He is preparing them for healing.

It’s reassuring that He knows because I don’t. I want Him to reveal it to me. What am I running from? What is my mind protecting me from? Why can’t I access it? Why can’t I open that wound? Is it a matter of time? Where I am in my life? I just have so many questions and no one can help me with it because no one knows me besides me and I don’t even know, so only God does.

Isaiah 43:18-19 NIV

““Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.”

Heavy on this! I can have the habit of dwelling on the past, especially right now. I’m nostalgic, I miss some of my past, it saddens me knowing some things will never again be as they were. However! My hope should be what God reassures, He’s doing a new thing! In order for the new to come about, the old has to go!

Zechariah 9:12 NIV

“Return to your fortress, you prisoners of hope; even now I announce that I will restore twice as much to you.”

I had a hard time understanding this so I went searching for commentary:

“Prisoners of hope” has reference to those who patiently waited for the kingdom of God. Paul spoke of himself in this terminology, “Hope of Israel, for which I am bound with this chain” (Acts 28:20); and in Galatians 3:23, he wrote:

Before faith came, we were kept in ward under the law (that is, prisoners), shut up unto the faith which should afterward be revealed. This is exactly the metaphor Zechariah used in Zechariah 9:12; and, although Paul did not quote this passage, he was surely familiar with it.

I think it’s just the hope that we have in our restoration in Christ. He washes away all sin and we are raised to a new life because of him.

Revelation 21:5 NIV

“He who was seated on the throne said, “I am making everything new!” Then he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.””

I just want to get out of the way that my initial reaction was to laugh because of that meme where spongebob is like “write that down! write that down!!”

but besides that! yeah that really also shows the importance of the word of God. This is all written down for our benefit, so that we may know him better and know that everything that’s in the Bible is trustworthy and true. We can trust the promises He makes and as such relates to this in which He is making everything new!

[ahautism]

ACT V Scene 1

SETTING: A lone grave, reading “Here lies Jimmy. Beloved husband.” In front of it various flowers are strewn. It has been constructed rather haphazardly, the lack of resources available clear, and the care that was put in nonetheless equally so. 

AT RISE: SCOTT is sitting in front of the grave, cross legged. A shovel lays beside him, still covered in dirt: he has just finished digging the grave. JIMMY stands barely on stage behind the grave, watching silently throughout the scene, ghostly. SCOTT wipes his eyes.

SCOTT

It’s done. You’re really gone. I- it didn’t feel real until now. My husband is dead.

(SCOTT pauses, turns to address the gravestone)

I’m sorry I couldn’t save you. I mean, I think we both knew it was bound to end like this. But I’m sorry I couldn’t at least be there. When you- when you died. God, saying it still feels like a punch to the chest. I’m still half convinced I’m going to turn around and see you making your way over from our bed, insisting that you’re fine, and really, you’ve had worse!

(SCOTT laughs, tears in his voice)

You never did know how to quit, did you love? Even when literally everything went wrong - which was all the time! You’re- you were literally cursed with cosmic bad luck, and you still never gave up, even once! You’re the strongest person I’ve ever known. I wish you didn’t have to be.

(pause)

When you died, I was halfway back to the battle, and suddenly I just knew that you had been killed. And I wasn’t even there to hold you, or try to stop it, or say goodbye. I won’t say I’ll never forgive myself for letting you die, I know how you’d feel about that. You’ve been trying to prepare me for your death since we met. But what I’ll really never forgive myself for is letting you die alone.

SCOTT (cont.)

I hope you know I love you. I hope you know I don’t regret a second of the life we got to share together. I hope this grave means… something. I don’t know. I’m going to try to avenge you. I’m going to try to take him down, take all of them down. It’s the least I can do.

(SCOTT stands up, brushes the dirt off his pants)

Sleep well, love.

(EXIT SCOTT.)

(ENTER MARTYN, looking around frantically to make sure he’s not being watched. Satisfied he has not been spotted, he sits down in front of JIMMY’s grave, and pulls a flower out from his pocket, placing it with the others.)

MARTYN

Hey, Tim. Man, it’s weird without you. Like, I know we haven’t been around each other for most of this game, I know we’ve been on opposite sides. I know you refused to join me. But still. Being here, and you just being… silent is weird. I guess that’s a side effect of being dead.

(MARTYN puts his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes before looking back to the grave.)

I’m sorry it turned out this way, for what it’s worth. I think we all knew, me and you and Grian and B and Scott and Joel, the second we realized this place wasn’t messing around. Knew that you weren’t going to make it. But I’m still sorry it had to be like this. I’m sorry it was me against you in the end. It’s always been us together. Morty Gage and Pete Bills, partners in not crime, thank you very much! But… in the end it was my side that killed you. Your death was my victory. And I’m sorry. Promise I never wanted any of this to happen.

(He sighs, stretches, stands up.)

Well, I better get going before Scott finds me and tries to kill me. I wouldn’t blame him honestly, poor guy. He really loves you, you know that? We all do, Tim. I wish you knew it better when you were alive. Right. I’m off then.

(MARTYN walks most of the way offstage, then stops. Looks out at the audience. Not into space offstage. At the audience in particular. He addresses them.)

MARTYN (cont.)

Is this entertaining to you? What the fuck do you get out of watching this? Why is me grieving my best friend who I basically killed your idea of a fun Tuesday night? Get a life. Go follow Grian instead. I’m sure he’s being very entertaining, he’s basically one of you at this point. Let me say goodbye in peace for once.

(His voice breaks.)

Please?

(Exit MARTYN.)

(Enter SKIZZ. He is even more afraid of being seen than MARTYN was, double and triple checking every corner for someone who might catch him. He reaches the grave, but does not sit, still on edge.)

SKIZZ

Hey buddy! Hm. I probably shouldn’t say that at the grave of the guy I killed. That’s my bad. Look. I can’t stay long, can’t risk Scott finding me here. I just wanted to say sorry for killing you. It was a real jerkface move. 

(He shifts, fidgeting uncomfortably.)

I wish I could say I didn’t mean to. I wish I could say it was an accident. It’s partially true! I certainly didn’t go into that battle thinking “I’m gonna kill Jimmy today!”. But it’s not the full truth. I aimed that arrow. I aimed for the head. That’s… you don’t survive that. And honestly? That terrifies me. I have blood on my hands now. I killed a man. I killed a man, and he’s not coming back. That kind of thing is hard to process before you see it in action. But, well, I’m at your grave. I’ve seen it now. It says it right on the headstone. Here lies Jimmy. Beloved husband. I killed someone with a husband, with a family. I made someone a widow. And the scariest part is, I didn’t even think about it. I celebrated. It was a victory for me. 

(pause)

SKIZZ (cont.)

I don’t even know why I’m saying this all here. There are far safer options than talking to a gravestone in the middle of one of my enemies’ territory. After I killed their husband. I just- I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve this. Scott didn’t deserve this. All the people that love you didn’t deserve this. I wish it hadn’t gone down like this. I wish we didn’t have to kill each other. I know that doesn’t change a thing, but… if you’re listening, you deserve to know. 

(pause)

I’ve overstayed my welcome. Bye, buddy. I have a bad feeling we’ll all be joining you very soon.

(Exit SKIZZ.)

(Exit JIMMY)

(End of scene.)

[galvanizedfriend]

hi, yokan <3

I read that in Brazil there's a week-break because of carnival, therefore I hope you're finally having a bit of rest!

I was wondering if you could post an outtake with the klaroeve scene? from you comment I understood that there was more than that little scene in the latest chapter, and I would LOVE to read it!

sorry if I sound rude or pressuring, it's not my intention at all :(( I'm just Eve's third parent, I need more scenes with my babygirl being adorable 😭😭

I totally get why you don't put more of her in the main story. I ALWAYS say that babyplots are terrible due to a lot of factors, one of them being the constant present of a baby who basically does nothing (rightfully, since, yk, it went out of the whomb last year) and that adds nothing to the plot but just terrible fan service.

I think most people would agree with this, maybe even you!

HOWEVER, my little wolf/fish/mermaid is THE exception and I would love to see more of her, and, since u have a series dedicated to those fluffy moments that don't exactly fits with the plot, I really wish you will post something there 😭😭

sorry for bothering you, I hope you'll have a good day!

P.S.

totally off-topic but I also read some of your comments in Portuguese (AT LEAST I think it's Portuguese 😭) and I understood like 80% of it, privileges of being Italian ‼‼ so lol now you really can't escape me >:)

Yes, it's Carnaval right now! It's a nearly weak-long holiday, but it sadly ends on Wednesday. 😢 And I was technically on call yesterday, so 😂 But I am very much enjoying not doing anything 🤷‍♀️

About the baby thing, yes. 😂 I've been so lucky to get some passionate readers almost from the start with this fic and to have people who are still reading it a ton of years later, but I've also had to read some very mean things over the years that have stuck with me. It has made me extremely self-conscious about this story. I sometimes find myself almost apologizing for writing it, like I'm commiting some kind of crime against fandom or like I should be banned for inflicting this upon people for as long as I have. I wish I could be the kind of person who just doesn't care and remains blissfully unbothered, but I'm not. I'm not a naturally confident person in any way, and that kind of thing does get to me.

It's gotten better, of course. I care a lot less now than I used to, and the fic is not as popular as it was a few years ago either, so there's that But some of that stuff has just ingrained itself into my brain. Objectively I know this is stupid and I don't owe anybody anything, I don't have to apologize for writing a fanfiction for god's sake. There's room for everyone in fandom. I can have a corner to rewrite the show and have a magical Klaroline baby, fuck it. Who cares, you know? But it's almost stronger than me sometimes, I don't realize I'm doing it. I get this feeling that I need to be more critical otherwise people are going to think it's ridiculous and OOC and nobody's gonna want to read it anymore and etc etc. It's exhausting. And it's obviously nobody's fault, it's just me in my own head, but that's how it goes.

The scene you're talking about in particular. I had it written years ago. Literal years, maybe 2021 or early 2022. Some of my friends had even already read it a loooong time before the chapter was finished. And I was convinced that it was so cute and totally fine. Then as I wrapping up the chapter, I started getting this itch that it was actually ridiculous and the folks who had read it didn't say anything because they were being nice, they didn't want to hurt my feelings, and I had to get delete it. So I did. In all truth, I think the chapter is more polished like this. But then I removed a family scene and ended up writing smut that also had no place in the chapter, so. 🤷‍♀️

Anyway, I'm sorry for the rambly response. 🥲 I'll tell you this: I will read the deleted scene again and if I feel it's not dumpster-fire bad, I will post it here. But I need to check it first, because there is chance that it's not just my paranoid head telling me to get rid of the baby scenes and it really is just that bad. 😂

And as for the last part, yes, it's Portuguese. It's my native language. And it's so funny how Italian, Spanish and Portuguese can be so similar. I understand Spanish much better than Italian, but I do get some of it as well. Latin languages 🤜🤛 (except French, I don't understand French at all 😂)