#have we not learned that imagination exists

[esmedelacroix]

All the ways I defy you.

pairing: exboyfriend!miguel o'hara x f!reader

summary: Since the end of your relationship, Miguel has been acting strange. At home, at work, and even around his own friends. He even goes so far as to break work rules all, for you?

cw: very angsty, depressive behaviors, tiny suggestive part

a/n: Hey! Just wanted to say thanks so much for all the love on the first part I uploaded a while ago! This is coming to you very late I know. I was a bit stressed with finals and moving out of my dorm. Here's part two, I hope you enjoy it! A comment, like, or repost is always appreciated.

previous part | miguel masterlist

*listen to this song on loop for the best experience !

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Of course, when I thought that I could rid her of my life for good, the universe sent her flying in my direction. I do not want to be near her. Not because I hate her but because I know I make her upset. I don't want her to be around someone she associates terrible feelings with(me). Yet there she was drenched at our front door.

"I'm currently on the hunt for an apartment, but I didn't know this was going to happen—so—sniff—I'll have to stay here for a while. Is that okay?" my sweet girl asked as she averted her eyes. Drenched in rain, runny mascara, and her tears. Voice quivering and body shaking.

"Yes, of course, yeah, come in," I responded a bit too quickly, opening my door wider for her to enter. I stepped aside and rummaged through the bathroom getting her a warm fluffy towel.

"Um, I'll take the couch so you can sleep in our—my room," I said, correcting myself. Which only made her tears spill more.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Yes, you'll catch a cold if you don't," I assured.

"Do you even care?" she muttered under her breath.

Yes, Of course I do baby you're my everything.

"I'll be in my office if you need anything," I sighed.

. . .

Sleeping uncomfortably on your couch is not for that week. But that didn't compare to the feeling of hearing my ex-girlfriend crying herself to sleep in the bed we once shared. Our physical proximity was so close. All I had to do was get up, open the door, and cuddle her. Tell her everything is going to be okay.

How can one be so close to someone but so far at the same time? The paradox of my situation with my ex-girlfriend tore my heart, mind, and body apart.

Just then her cries and sniffs died down and I could hear her familiar soft snore that she swore she didn't have. When I closed my eyes to sleep, the first thought that came to my head was her. Her sleeping form. How peaceful her face looked. The way her chest rose and fell as she breathed. My perfect girl was the first and last thing I thought about. Her mere existence in my imagination had lulled me to sleep. Fuck, I made a mistake letting her go, I thought to myself.

. . .

"Hobie Brown," I said sternly.

"I already know, I get it, but things happen, mate," he shrugged, foreseeing the lecture he was about to receive from me.

"No, I don't think you 'get it' because you broke one of the only three key rules you have to follow here," I interjected.

"Just let him off the hook this time," Gwen interrupted.

"No. I can't. You, Miles, and Pavitr could learn from this as well. Don't disrupt the canon, report to me after every single mission, and never, ever, ever leave your post," I lectured.

"What if something important happens?" Miles questions.

"Nothing is more important than keeping the canon intact," I snapped.

"At this rate, you and your girlfriend will break up before I finish my written report. She must really enjoy your relationship; If you could even call it that," Hobie smirked as he walked away.

That shut me up. Because what he predicted was not far from reality. Are my rules too much? I couldn't say anything back to him because he might have been correct. For the first time ever Hobie Brown got the last word. The rest of the afternoon I reflected on myself and my rules. Not leaving your post is important, I told myself.

. . .

"I got your text," Peter B sighed as he took a seat next to Miguel in the cafeteria.

"You broke up with her?" he asked, quivering a brow.

"Yeah, it was just too much," I sighed, rubbing my hand along my face.

"What do you mean? She's like the best thing to ever happen to you. The first time I ever saw you genuinely laugh was the day you brought her to work and she kept cracking the worst dad jokes. And you're telling me you broke up with her?" he rambled.

"Peter, I was making her unhappy," I admitted.

"Then just stop making her unhappy. It's as easy as that. Knowing her, she probably communicated what was bothering her with you too," he said sternly.

"I can't just stop following protocol," I said, stating the obvious.

"For her? For the women you love? You should be able to," Peter sighed. My lungs felt like they had been attacked by a million bees. Palms were sweating buckets at the mere thought of experiencing my baby Gabriella disappear in my arms again. Her painful screams filled my ears. The grief-stricken reality that her daddy, her "hero", couldn't save her. Amid my miniature panic attack, Peter placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. Successfully pulled me from the nightmare I was reliving back into the present.

"But, Peter, Gabi, I—I can't let that happen again. What if a parent, just like me and you, loses their kid the same way I did? I just-I can't do it. I have to keep the canon undisturbed," I said, stumbling over my words.

"Miguel, that isn't going to happen again, you have us now. You have help," Peter said a little softer, noticing that he hit a nerve.

"I would never forgive myself if millions of families, partners, and could-have-been end or cease to exist because of me," I admitted.

"Miguel, if you were to leave your post, you would have someone fill in for you. You give yourself all of these extra jobs that you don't need to be doing," Peter insisted.

"But if I don't do it, someone's going to make a mistake," I insisted.

"Or you can trust in the people that you hand-picked for this job," Peter suggested.

"It's more complicated than that," I rebutted.

"No, it really isn't. You're just making it more complicated. You need to trust in your team," he finished.

"And maybe get your girl back?" he suggested as he got up to get Mayday from Gwen's lap to go change her diapers.

. . .

You called out of work sick. Truthfully, you were glued to the bed. You didn't have the desire to get up or do much of anything. You hadn't showered that morning or eaten breakfast. All you did was stare at the ceiling, out the window, and the framed photo of you and Miguel that he hadn't put away yet.

Tears stained your cheeks, your eyes swelled to oblivion, and your stomach was empty and practically eating itself. The refrigerator called out to me but I didn't answer. I couldn't. Does he even care like I do? You asked yourself.

Staring blankly at the limewash accent wall of your once-shared room that you were considered a guest in. Just then your phone rang. You shot up and immediately checked who it was. You shamelessly smiled when the contact name "my miguel 💕" popped up on your screen. You clicked the answer button after taking a deep breath.

"Hello?" you said.

"Hi, you're probably at work right now, sorry to be a bother," he started.

"No, not at all. I called out today. I've been feeling under the weather," you assured.

"Do you want me to bring you anything for dinner? I'm going to get Chinese takeout tonight," he said.

"Yeah, I'll have whatever you're having," you responded.

"Okay, I'll be back around 7:00 with dinner. You know where the medicine is, take care of yourself please," he assured.

"Okay, I'll be expecting you," you replied before hanging up first.

He told you he'd be home around seven but you didn't count on it. He broke most promises anyway.

You decided to finally shower and have a small snack. You sat on the couch with your Kindle in hand. The couch smelled like him. The throw pillows smelled like his lavender-scented shampoo. You couldn’t help but wrap yourself in the blankets he had used the night before. It didn’t compare his hugs but it was good enough for now.

You spent some time reading some romance novels. Putting yourself in the shoes of the heroine and pretending that the love interest was him. Pretending that it was Miguel who ran all the way to your house while it was raining to hold you and wipe your tears in the dead of the night. Instead, you sat in your living room wondering whether or not he would actually do that for you.

You heard keys in the door and it opened soon after. You got up and slowly approached it with a pillow in hand as a weapon. You had no idea who could be dropping by the apartment at this time. Just then Miguel turned the corner takeout in hand and you wound up to hit the perpetrator. “Whoa calm down, it’s just me,” Miguel chuckled.

You let out a long exhale in relief. “I just wasn’t expecting you to be home so early,” he sighed as you put the pillow back on the couch.

“What do you mean? I said I’d be here around this time and you said and I quote, ‘I’ll be expecting you’,” he teased.

“Well I’m just kind of used to you saying things and not delivering,” you said under your breath loud enough for him to hear as you helped him unpack the food he got and set it on the living room coffee table.

“Well I decided to be less of a dick today,” he quipped.

“Should’ve done that when we were still together,” you answered half-joking.

He gave you an apologetic look. His mouth opened then closed. Like he wanted to say something but he stopped himself. Like he always did. I wish you could tell me what’s on your mind, you thought to yourself.

“I’ve been pretty shitty huh?” he said with a pained expression on his face.

“It’s not your fault,” you assured taking a seat next to him.

He put something random on Netflix to watch while you got water for the two of you. As usual, he never read the synopsis of anything he watched and accidentally put on 365 days. Classic Miguel. “Oh god, this is a bit inappropriate,” he commented, almost choking on his lo mien.

“It’s nothing we’ve never done before,” you smirked.

You watched his cheeks flush out of the corner of your eyes. He hugged the my melody plush you had gifted him a while ago a little tighter. He adjusted his glasses sheepishly.

You recalled the time you asked him about his glasses. Him being ashamed when he admitted that he needed to use glasses whenever he looked at a screen because played too many video games as a kid.

Suddenly, the TV blended in with all the other noises in the background. The sounds of cars honking on the streets outside the window, the rain constantly hitting the top of the air conditioner, the soft hum of the drying machine, and the—tick—tock—of the clock on the wall.

It was just you and Miguel in that room then. Stealing glances at each other. Contemplating whether or not you should release the many unspoken words bottled up inside. “I’m moving out in 2 days. I found a place,” you said, breaking the silence.

“Oh, that’s….great. Seriously, good for you,” he says looking away. What you didn’t know was that Miguel wasn’t congratulating you. He was trying to convince himself that you leaving was a good thing. That it was good for you and for him. That it was everything he wanted.

You could hear the pain in his voice and although you could see his face. You knew the downcast expression that was painted on it.

. . .

Two days went by way too quickly. Two days of sleeping on the couch. Two days of coming home early and on time to spend time with my loved ones before she left. Two days of baking sweet treats while we watched Romance movies. Two days of soaking in her presence before it was completely gone from my life.

As soon as I knew it, that morning when I decided to help her move her things out instead of going to work. I put Jess in charge of the morning instead which she was ecstatic about.

Once the final box was loaded in the moving truck we faced each other at the front door. The front door I’ve her drunk body through. The front door we used to kiss at when we couldn’t wait to get in our house. The front door she knocked at with all of her stuff when we decided to move in together. The front door where I would chase after her after an argument. The front door I revealed I was Spiderman at. The front door she came to drenched with rain in tears the day I broke up with her. Which was now the front door that we would say our last goodbyes at.

We looked into each other's eyes for a good 30 seconds. Tears filled her eyes and mine. "Just, come here big guy," she sighed, opening her arms to me.

I was hesitant. If I touched I was afraid I wouldn't want to let go and I would hold on forever. All I could control was the now. So I pushed those thoughts of fear away and I held her. Her arms wrapped around my waist. One of my hands rested on her back while the other was on the back of her head caressing her hair. For once I built up the courage to say what was on my mind without holding myself back. I took a deep breath in before admitting, "I'll miss you,"

"I still love you," she replied before letting go and walking out the door for the last time.

I heard the door click and it was final. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

. . .

I felt lighter as I walked down the hallway to my office. Memories of her still played endlessly in my head but I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulder when I took Peter's advice and split my jobs up with my coworkers.

Today most of the spider society would be in Pavitr's universe catching any extra anomalies that slipped under our radar. As well as closing the quantum hole that was starting to form. We had almost all hands on deck in this assignment and I would be leading it.

The mission reached a new height for us when a Prowler variant from a different universe was found. Gwen and I were on him while also trying to keep the streets and civilians safe. Peter joined us soon after he finished his task. Just when we had cornered him, my watch began to ring. The contact name appeared as "Mi Corazon" and my heart dropped. My heart dropped because the only way she could call me on my watch was with the emergency one I had made for her. She was in trouble. I looked around at Peter and Gwen and they both urged me to answer. "If you need to go, you should go," Peter said, fighting off the Prowler who took this as an advantage to strike.

"Don't worry about us, we got this," Gwen called out, giving Peter a hand while looking back at me.

"But, I can leave my post. I made that rule," I stuttered as the ringing of my watch heightened my nerves. Peter gave me a look

"For her? For the women you love? You should be able to," the words played through my head as the worst possible time.

I can't, I can't do it. I have to stay, I thought to myself.

"You should be able to," I told myself.

As I battled with myself in my head, Peter snapped me out of it. "Answer that call, Miguel. I'm sure you'll regret it later if you don't. We got it covered. Trust in us? Please?" he called out.

Every cell in my body and even my brain told me not to answer the call and not to leave my post. But every beat in my heart and whisper of my soul told me to answer the damn call. So I did.

. . .

I had never swung through the streets of Nueva York faster than I was now. Her little voice fueled me even though biologically I should have no energy right now.

"Miguel I need you, I need you right now,"

If a branch was in my way I simply swung through. They would hit my body and bruise me a bit but none of that mattered right now.

"Someone broke into my house,"

Tears began to form in my eyes wondering if she was okay. If she was safe. “ You still there baby?” I asked as I swung past building upon building.

“Yeah—sniff—I’m here,” she replied. I let out a relieved sigh.

“Just wait right there, baby. Stay on the line, I’m almost there,” I breathed out.

. . .

You didn’t expect him to drop everything at an important mission for you. That's why you didn’t tell him that you knew who robbed your house.

That’s why you didn’t tell him that your ex-boyfriend had texted you the moment he found you that you and Miguel split up. The same ex was the reason why Miguel had to help you tighten your home security before you moved in with him.

So when Miguel found you on the ground a mess with tears still streaming down your face. You felt as though you had to tell him. "This was Kyle wasn't it?" he asked.

"How'd you know?" you asked, looking up at him, his arms still wrapped around you.

"I had a bodyguard follow you around for a while just to make sure you were okay while I figured out a time to help you install some security here. They noticed a guy was loitering outside of your apartment building a lot but they assumed he was a resident," he explained.

"I'm sorry I called you for this, I'm a mess and you were doing something important, probably," you rambled.

"No, nothing is more important than your safety and your happiness," he interrupted.

"Miguel, you don't have to say that to make me feel better. I know how important holding the Spider-Verse together is to you," you admitted.

"You're more important. So much more important. I'd sit and watch the whole Spider-Verse crumble and burn as long as I’m watching it with you safe in my arms," he confessed, holding you tighter.

"I'm sorry I never told you that sooner. Or showed that in my actions when we were together. There hasn't been a single day I haven't thought about you since I first met you. I thought that by breaking up with you, you'd be happier and you'd be free of me. It's hard being in a relationship with me and it's even harder to love me because I'm so flawed," he continued.

All the things he wanted to say but never dared to say to you spilled out at once.

"I just didn't want you to think I'm weak," he admitted sheepishly.

Shock struck your face. He's been struggling so much and you didn't know. "Oh Miguel, I could never think that. You are the strongest man I know. Once I had to bike up a very steep hill to get a bandage for my little brother who scraped his knee, it was really hard. Another time, I took a test that had 120 multiple-choice questions and two essays in two hours. That—was really hard. But the easiest thing I've ever had to do..." you started as you cupped his cheeks with both of your hands.

"...is love you. It's a pleasure—to love you, Miguel. You are not an inconvenience to me" you assured.

The two of you held each other on the floor of your trashed apartment. For the first time out of many to come, Miguel defied his protocols and the canon for you. He challenged his way of being for you. And he conquered his fear of opening up all to be a better man for you.

"I know it's hard for you to talk to me about what goes on in your head, and we'll work on it but this is a really good start. Thank you," you said.

"Does this mean we're back together? You really want to be with me after all this?" he asked.

"Yes, of course," you chuckled.

"I love you to the moon and back," he sighed.

. . .

to be continued ?

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taglist: @truth-dare-spin-bottles @hobiebrowns-wife @lazyjellyfish300 @scaryplanetdestroyer @lauraolar14 @reader-1290 @prettygirleli @spicydonut25

[crepezinhos]

Checkmate.

(Yandere!Scaramouche Oneshot based off this bot: https://character.ai/chat/9fLm-Sf77178O3XLP5KxGfQ51aznE_hxzK1wfpgT9SY)

POV: You were simply living your life like every other day, studying in your college’s library by yourself. But out of nowhere, the worst announcement that could ever exist reached your ears, your parents’ money and careers just went bankrupt and massively negative. It has no explanation, it just disappeared and the bank refuses to help, blaming them for not checking their bills and warnings from the bank. As you cried all by yourself in a random corner of the campus, one of your colleagues, Scaramouche, arrives to comfort you.

⚠️ WARNINGS:

— This is a Yandere oneshot, so there is a lot of toxic and manipulative behavior

— Modern and College AU

— Contains suggestive and sensitive topics such as self-hatred, hatred, abusive relationships, threats, masturbation, sexual kinks and stalking.

— Might look like there’s SA but it’s just a metaphor and the reader’s imagination.

It was just another day of your life, in your favorite time of the day: the lunch break. But now, you felt like that was the worst time of the day because it coincidentally crossed with the worst news you could’ve ever listened to.

The course of your life will probably change forever.

“We don’t know, honey! Our accounts just went negative in millions! We’ve been trying to contact the bank over an hour now but they don’t wanna help at all!” The memory of your father screaming that through your phone echoed in your mind again, making you grip even harder in your hair to make it somehow go away.

That was probably the beginning of a very bad era of your life, and for no reason at all.

You were having the worst tantrum of your life behind an isolated tree in an isolated area of school’s campus. Crying, hyperventilating, pulling your hair, curling up in a ball… you really wanted to scream and destroy everything, but no one was there to see, hear or comfort you, and if there was, they’d find you a maniac for doing so in a public space.

All the “money” you had left was your scholarship, but it would end in a month, then you’re on your own to pay it. But if your parents can’t fix this problem, that means you will have to help them, and to do that you most likely will have to give them a part of your profits, which means you’ll have to work way more than one shift to afford both thing. Or, you could quit college to fully help them pay their debts. The thought of that second scenario was horrifying to you because only you know how much you worked to get in that college, to get that scholarship, to afford that life, to learn, study and to adapt to your classes.

All that work being wasted for no good reason at all, and that doesn’t even have to do with you? No, it can’t be, you can’t let that happen, you won’t let that happen. The thought of all your parents’ work to reach where they are at the moment also being wasted with this problem made your blood boil even more. They’re the best parents you could’ve asked for, it’s not fair. They’ve always been supportive to you and all your dreams, no matter how unrealistic they were and that’s what they get?

“Y/N?” You heard the familiar voice of your colleague, Scaramouche, coming from behind you, making you shiver and slightly jump aside in fear of being suddenly visited.

You were thankfully back to rationality.

You looked at Scaramouche and saw his face was stoic and unworried as always, but his hand laying in the tree’s trunk like he had been looking for you contrasted his posture, and you found that cute.

“Scara?! Oh, god, I’m sorry, you shouldn’t be seeing me like this!” You screamed, wiping your tears as you got up in embarrassment of being spotted in such a weird situation.

“What happened?” He asked calmly.

“N-Nothing, please, just—”

“You’re freaking out, Y/N, I’m not stupid.” He stopped you from lying, putting both his hands in your shoulders right after. “Sit down, breathe, and tell me what happened.” He ordered, the closure of his beautiful face to yours distracting you for a second.

But you still decided to obey, after all, that was the first time you’ve ever seen Scaramouche so comfortable in acting so sweetly to anyone. You wouldn’t deny such a sign of friendship coming from someone so infamous as him. Everyone in his class, economics, says that he’s a straight-A student but he’s rude, egoist, cold and finds himself superior than most students. Nobody knows too much about him rather than the fact that he’s a billionaire, but you can’t remember if it’s true or why now. Not even his roommate is close to him in anyway, only you are, so that’s probably why he’s acting so comforting to you.

As he sat both of you down, still behind the tree, you started breathing deeply to calm down just like he asked, and meanwhile he waited for you to do so, you started to remember the day you met him. It was in the library, also during lunch break, which meant that the place was absolutely full. You really liked to spend your breaks there, especially if you needed to study, but the only spot you found to sit down was at the table he was sitting, so you breathed in and out and decided to give a shot.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” You asked very anxiously, expecting him to say “no”.

He looked at you with a very indifferent face, slightly bothered by your presence.

“Sure.” He said, pulling his computer closer to him to give you some space.

You were a little surprised at someone like him being kind, but still took the chance he gave you as soon as he said it.

Throughout the lunch break, you noticed how Scaramouche seemed to stuck on making a decision for a poster he was working on. It seemed like some sort of propaganda project, and as a fashion student, you were not happy with what you were seeing.

Nothing in the poster made any sense! So as soon as he turned his face to the computer again, you decided to speak up.

“What are you working on?” You asked, still looking at your screen.

“None of your business.” He answered, discounting m some of his stress at you.

“Is it a propaganda project?” You asked, ignoring his rudeness.

“Why do you wanna know?” He asked, trying his best to not murder you.

“I’m a fashion student, I can tell when someone is stressed with a design.” You showed yourself off, making him scoff very dramatically.

“I’m sorry, who are you again?”

“Y/N Y/S!” You presented yourself, stretching your hand to him.

“I don’t see anything special or beneficial in your name or advice, Y/N.” He ironized, his eyes going back to his computer.

Was he trying to offend your name? That guy was really what people told you…

“If you’re making an ad for a bank, you should definitely use colors that remind people of luxury and money like white, black, gold, silver… blue is a very risky choice that would only work if you were already famous or brilliant, which I don’t believe you are. Oh, and the font you’re picking for the letters is also super childish.” You advised him even if he had denied it while getting up and grabbing your stuff.

He was staring deep down in your soul, absolutely murderous at your nosiness and audacity. You knew that what you did was unnecessary, but you personally really like to test rumors, and you knew that he would get a rough C with what he had in hands.

“Scaramouche, isn’t it?” You asked, still ignoring the fact that he was holding himself to not jump in you. “I’ll takes that as a yes, so I’ll see you around, Scara!” You said as you walked away and waved to him.

After that day, you made the conclusion that Scaramouche was just a troubled guy and needed affection, so you started to frequently visit him at lunch breaks to try befriending him and maybe fix whatever hurt his heart. And you were right, because he never really told you to go away again, he secretly (but obviously) liked your attention.

You sniffed again, realizing that he had been waiting for you to speak out this entire time. You knew his temper and patience was short, so you couldn’t waste a single second weeping anymore.

“I… well…” You started, but failed, making him surprisingly lay his left hand in your left shoulder across your back to comfort you even more. “For some reason… my parents’ bank accounts just went bankrupt and negative in millions for no reason, and I believe I might have to quit college to help them pay their bills!” You vented, going back to crying like a kid as soon as you told him your pessimistic view of the future.

But Scaramouche didn’t say anything, he only listened to you with that same stoic face.

“I don’t know what to do, Scara… I really don’t…” You finished, shoving your face in your knees and clawing your hair with your hands again.

When Scaramouche saw you gripping your own hair like that, he used his right hand to grab your right wrist and gently pull it away from you, but you fought back.

“Hey, hey, no need to harm yourself.” He whispered very calmly in your ear, making you instantly relax your reluctant arm.

His voice was so magically beautiful that it made you relax your left arm too. And as you did so, he moved his hand in your left shoulder to your back to gently caress it as you vented all your tears out.

He was almost embracing you entirely.

Even if he was making you feel very comfortable, there was something in him that was really bothering you. You had tought about it just now, Scaramouche is a billionaire, isn’t he? But why? And why do you feel it’s relevant to this moment?

So as you wetted your knees and Scaramouche waited for you to calm down again, you decided to go back on some memories you had with him to look for the answer to that question.

“It’s really not a problem for me, Y/N, please.” He insisted as he opened his wallet.

You and Scaramouche were buying lunch in the cafeteria, but you had just realized you had forgotten your wallet in your dorm, and it would take too long to go back there and get it and wait in the enormous line again.

“Are you sure, Scara? I really don’t want to be a bother.” You insisted as well, feeling bad for him paying extra money and spoiling you.

But before you could convince him even more, your eyes realized the shiny, golden card in his wallet.

You recognized that card, it was the Golden VIP Raiden Card from the Raiden Bank, the same bank your parents use. That shiny, golden card is really known and iconic in Japan for being owned by celebrities and millionaires and for being extremely expensive and beautifully designed.

Why the heck did he have one?!

“You really aren’t, Y/N.” Scaramouche said giving a 10 dollar note and a 5 dollar note to the cashier.

And in seconds, he had the tray with your meal in his hands.

“Here you go.” He said, stretching it to you with a very cutesy smile, which was very uncommon to you.

But you were still shocked and confused with rather you had seen a Golden VIP Raiden Card in his wallet or not.

“Y/N?” He asked, bringing you back to reality.

“O-Oh, sorry, I thought I saw a Golden VIP Raiden Card in your wallet, haha!” You laughed at yourself, but Scaramouche got confused.

“Well, of course you saw it, because I do own one!” He laughed off too, thinking that you were joking.

But when he stopped hearing your giggles and saw your jaw dropped to the floor, he stopped laughing too.

“Wait, do you actually?!” You asked, absolutely taken aback.

“Yeah… do you not know?” He asked, a little embarrassed now.

“Know what?!”

“Y/N, I’m the son of Raiden Ei.” He answered looking at you very weirdly, confused at your ignorance but also like that topic was not something he liked to talk about.

Uncomfortable.

But your mind was back to reality. Your eyes widened in realization of what Scaramouche is and you lifted your head up to him again in a blink.

He was the fucking son of Raiden Ei, Raiden Bank’s owner.

Raiden Ei is also a very famous and iconic woman in Japan. She’s extremely beautiful, styled, powerful and intelligent. She’s very known for not making bad decisions in her business, getting in a very spicy fight with another bank owner, being great in debating, being respectful to herself as a woman and way more. She really is an icon for Japanese women and “girl power”, that’s why your parents decided to make their accounts on Raiden Bank when they became adults. You’ve seen on journals that she had given birth to a child some years ago, but she always made sure to hide the kid from paparazzi, so there was not much info about it, not did you care.

But, oh my god. That was perfect.

“Scara?” You called him out, your tears had even stopped in hope of it working.

“Yes?” He answered.

“You are the son of Raiden Ei, aren’t you?” You asked a little low, afraid of making him uncomfortable.

“Yes, I am.” He answered completely fine unlike the other times.

“Oh, Scaramouche! I know you don’t like talking about this, but please, I’ll do anything for you if you ask your mother to fix this!” You begged to him, throwing yourself at him and slightly shaking his shoulders in desperation.

“Anything?” He asked… with a smirk.

A smirk? Why is he smirking? That isn’t a good to demonstrate empathy, is he aware of that? That… couldn’t possibly be good, could it?

You just said you’d do anything. Even if it’s just a way to express how desperate you are, did he really take it as a serious statement? If not, is he taking this entire mess as a joke?

“I—… why are you smiling?” You asked, slightly getting away from him.

But all Scaramouche did was crawl all the way from your side to between your legs, grab your wrists and pin them against the tree as quick as possible, so you wouldn’t have to resist it.

“I’m smiling because you just said you’d do anything for me if I get rid of your family’s debts, and I have a proposal for you, so hear it very carefully, ok?” He said with a very weird voice, a lusty one, an excited one, who has waited a long time to be said.

“What..? Scara, what are doing..?! Let me go!” You screamed, trying your best to free your wrists from his grip, but he was twice as strong as you at that moment of vulnerability.

What the fuck is going on? Why is his smirk only getting bigger and bigger with your despair? Your instincts as a woman only recognized what he’s doing as sexual assault, which made you freeze.

Oh no.

No, no, no, no… he’s not gonna assault you, is he?

“No need to fight me back, Y/N, I’m not gonna hurt you, in fact, I would never hurt you.” He whispered with his calm voice, letting your wrists go as he noticed you were immobilized in fear. “In case you didn’t get it yet, Y/N, I was the one who bankrupted your family’s bank accounts.” He confessed with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on his face. “That’s why no one from the bank wants to help your parents, I gave them the orders to not do so!” He explained like that was those were greatest news ever.

What the fuck?

What?

Why?

Is this real?

It has to be a nightmare.

“You know, Y/N… throughout my entire life I’ve never really been loved. Initially, I thought the problem was with women because all the women I’ve known were gold-diggers or perfect little princesses from other rich families with no personality who just wanted to impregnate themselves with my babies and inherit my mother’s money. By the way, my mother is the main reason why I hated women, but that’s not germane right now. Where was I..? Ah! But then, I realized the problem was me and my origins. I know I’m a very easy-to-hate guy who seeks for academic value, loyalty and profit in people rather than anything else, but that’s how I was forced to live with and still am. No one, in my entire life, ever really saw me as a human being, just a living wallet to use and discard, until you. It disgusts me now how I used to call you a nosy bitch who gave me the dumbest advices… but you insisted and insisted so much on becoming my friend and embrace me and my problems with all your heart, that you started to make me feel things I’ve never felt.” He explained, gently picking one of your wrists to lay your hand on his heart.

It was beating really quick, matching the pinkish color in his cheeks.

“It took me a long time to realize this, but… I love you, Y/N. You’re the first person in my whole life that treated me like a human being, the first one who went through all the barriers to my heart and didn’t break it...” He confessed, his cheeks going redder in excitement and embarrassment. “But no matter how much I showcased my money, intelligence and loyalty, shown you the luxuries I live with and could give you… you remained loyal to that worthless man you call your boyfriend, your love. It fucking hurt so much to hear you calling him like that and see you kissing him so passionately… but that would only show me that you saw me as a human and that you were genuinely uninterested in my money, even if you always had that curious look on your face whenever you saw my credit card and I always offered myself as a wallet for you. You never wanted to take advantage of my money, no matter how gentle I was, and that just made me even more addicted to you.” He slightly groaned after confessing all that. “Oh, Y/N… you’re so fucking perfect, I feel so warm and safe in your embrace… I need you in my life…” He hugged your back as he complimented you. “And I know… you love your boyfriend and all… but I’ll make you forget about him in a night if you let me have a chance with you…” He whispered in your ear very lustily, getting even closer to your body, touching your chests together as he embraced your back harder.

No…

Why is he telling me all this?

What does he want?

You don’t wanna know, you never wanted to know any of this.

You just wanted to vent to a friend.

Nothing else.

His nails begun slightly clawing your back, trying to feel it even further than he already was. But to you it felt like he was touching you everywhere, like if multiple hands of his were touching you, feeling you, exploring you, harassing you.

“I’ve never been this close to you, Y/N…” He whispered again but extremely emotional, shoving his face on your shoulder in embarrassment of acting so weirdly.

And as he appreciated the warmth of your inexistent embrace, your mind finally processed all that information he and your brain told you yet.

Misogyny, jealously, egoism, lust, love, therapy and a reality check is basically what had just happened.

You didn’t want this.

You want your friends, you want your boyfriend.

Scaramouche was making you feel worse than before and you wanted to feel better.

Your hands jumped off from the floor and stretched on his chest, pushing him away from his comfort for a fraction of seconds.

“NO! LEAVE ME ALONE! YOU’RE CRA—!” You attempted screaming and getting out of his grip, but you failed just like before, and this time he was a little more rough as his hand slapped your mouth shut to not call any person’s attention.

“I didn’t even tell you my proposal yet, Y/N, calm down and listen to me.” He ordered you slightly worried at your despair.

You had to calm down, he had the solution and its entire control in his hands, so why were you trying to run away without listening? Is it the fear of it being something terrible?

“Since you seem to be really desperate to run away from me, I’ll just tell you what I want already… marry me, Y/N.” He proposed, his face becoming slightly lusty and red again.

What?

Marry?

As marriage?

Everything around the both of you seemed to disappear again.

“Y/N, I promise you… I’ll be the best fucking husband in this world for you. All the women of Japan will say how bad they wanted such a dedicated and loving husband as me, and how you’re the luckiest woman on Earth. I’ll be everything your boyfriend is, but more and better. Did you know you’re not even your boyfriend’s type? I have e recording of him saying that he’d rather date a hot blondie than you. I would never do that to you, Y/N, especially because I think you’re the most perfect woman in human history… you shaped my type. I could never let you go because of a stupid guy like him, he doesn’t deserve you. I’ll pay all your college fees, I’ll buy you a diamond ring, I’ll buy you a land and let you build the shop you always told me you wanted to have, I’ll make every clothe you design go viral, I’ll make you meet all your favorite designer and so much more… all I need is for you to say yes.” He told his plans for the future as he caressed the finger he’d want the ring on with his other free hand.

He was barely moaning as he talked his feelings out.

“Oh, sorry, it looks like I’ll just be a good provider, but as I said, I’ll be the best fucking husband in this world. You want a mansion? I’ll buy one. Want a limousine just for you? I’ll buy one too. You want a polar bear as a pet? I’ll catch one myself for you. You want 9 children? I will be the greatest father in the world to them. Do you not want to have children? That’s ok, even more time for us! You want me to submit to all your orders in the house and kneel down whenever you get home? I’ll do it with pleasure. You want to blindfold me, tie my entire body up, shut my mouth and only serve to give you pleasure? I’ll love every second of it. Want to dress me up in a humiliating outfit, degrade my existence to oblivion, beat me up, torture me and my pleasure and write your name in my forehead using a knife? I deserve punishment for this anyway and I don’t see problems on being yours forever. Do you want to open my insides, take my ribs one by one and eat in front of me? It would be an honorable death. You want me to do these things to you? I’ll do them and literally anything for you if it means you’re mine and only mine forever.” You could barely understand a third of what said, but what you heard from that confession made you want to vomit.

It made you really want to vomit.

He can’t hate himself that much, can he?

He loved how you treated him as a human, but he only called himself a toy in this confession.

“I’ve longed to ask your hand in marriage for 2 years now… having a tantrum and crying for hours whenever I saw you with those worms whom you call friends. Do you have any idea how many times I’ve touched myself to you? To the scenery of your boyfriend fucking you in your bed? Yeah, I’ve watched some of them from the windows. Or to that costume you made for me for last year’s prom? To underwear I’ve stolen from you? To voice recordings I have of you talking about me to your friends? Calling me a nice person? Those were my favorite…” He asked, his mouth touching his hand that covered your mouth.

It was like if Scaramouche wanted to kiss you really bad, but he couldn’t because he needed to keep you quiet.

Sometimes you noticed how some of your underwear simply disappeared from your wardrobe.

And right now you found out a trusted person took them… and for a very disgusting reason.

Your eagerness to vomit only worsened. You genuinely launched yourself forward, thinking that it would come out, but it didn’t, and Scaramouche pushed you back to the tree very gently as he saw how sick you felt.

“Don’t vomit, Y/N… you have all the reasons in the world to be disgusted, but it was the only way to win your heart! If you think of it as my demonstration of my loyalty, it’ll make you feel better!” He advised with a cutesy smile like he hadn’t confessed the most disgusting things in the world and threatened all the progress you’ve done in your life.

He gently took his hand out of your mouth, seeing that you were paralyzed in fear again, and your first reaction was to breathe in and out very deeply, breathing all the air you hadn’t breathed this entire time.

The more air you gained, the more you realized the situation you were in, the situation he put you in, the more you realized that he was the worst thing that happened to you yet, the more you wanted to cry.

And so you did.

“Own… don’t cry, my love…” He said with that sweet, calm voice as he saw your eyes wet and put a thumb in your cheek to dry the incoming tears off. “It’s not that hard of a decision, wanna know why..? Because if you say no, I won’t guarantee that I’ll let you win the challenge of paying off the debts nor that I’ll leave you alone… But if you say yes, well… you already know~..!” He threatened with a cute smile that contrasted his words.

You didn’t say anything and just allowed yourself to sob more and more until your head felt too heavy and fell on your knees again. You’d never expect someone so mistreated as Scaramouche to be so cruel and threaten you, your family and your life so deeply that any possibility of you saying no was checkmated.

You didn’t want to admit to him how you already wanted to say yes, you hated the thought of losing so easily and pathetically to him and raising his ego to such a dangerously high level. You didn’t care if your life was going to be full of money and luxury forever, you’d never love it… you’d never love him.

And honestly… you’d probably hate him forever.

“Oh, dear…” He whined again and gently kissed your forehead as he saw your head going down to your knees.

You could feel his desire to suck your skin in that smooch and embrace you even more, but that really wasn’t a good time to show his lust.

“Hey, look at me.” He said cutely again, getting away from your head and pulling your chin up to his eyes gently. “I’m not that cruel… I’ll let you have some time to think about it, ok? You have a month.” He explained like the time choice was coincidentally matching with your scholarship. “I don’t want to sound threatening anymore, but… I don’t think I have to tell you to not tell this to anyone, right? I only allow you to talk about this with your parents but I don’t want to hear about this coming out of anyone else’s mouth, got it?” He threatened which made you want to cry more again.

He had just tried to comfort you, but then made you remember he has no good intentions at all.

You automatically nodded to his directions, that’s just how much you felt endangered by him.

“Good girl~…” He patted your head with the hand that was in your chin while he took something out of his pocket with his other hand.

It was a clean, white handkerchief.

“Here...” He offered it to you and as you took it, you made sure to not touch your hands together. “I wish I could stay here with you, but if you’re going to become my wife, I need to have a great performance in this college to be a great provider and husband to you, so I’ll see you around, ok?” He said, predicting that you’d say yes, going back to his cutesy smile before he finally got up. “Remember that I love you and I always will, ok?” He reassured you again.

And you instantly nodded again, making him finally feel comfortable to walk away from you.

And there he left you. Alone, afraid, anxious and with the weight of deciding something that will change your life forever in both ways of it.

You hated today.

You hated that moment.

You hated Scaramouche.

You hated everything.

But you had to do something about it, didn’t you?

So…

What will you do?

[a-spes]

| UNTIL ONE OF US DIE — Drabble (958 words).

| Summary — you promised to marry her but you didn't.

| Tags & warnings — Part of my "A drabble a day in june" challenge. — Yelena Belova x Reader, childhood friends (lovers?), death (R), angst without comfort, bittersweet, mentions of the redroom.

| REQUEST GUIDELINES — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

Everyone has always lied to her but it was fine, she got used to it. She smiles, pretending she doesn't see right through their games, doing whatever they are expecting her to, even if she knows that the only reward she'll get for it is a bitter disappointment. She is born to serve, and that's what she does the best. They give her a mission, she completes it, and then they are happy enough to leave her alone for a few days — Weeks, when she is lucky.

That's how the world works for her, it always did, but some truth are more difficult to accept. That her family never existed, that she has been ripped of a few years of her life, that her sister died, but also that you didn't keep your promise.

You were just kids but it still counted, didn't it?

It was only a few words that you whispered to each other when you were no older than ten years, something that happened in the secrecy of the dormitory. You both knew it was a dangerous game because no one was allowed to dream but you didn't care. As far as she can remember, you've never cared about anything.

"We can do it," you said, trying the blonde to break the rules with you, but she was too stubborn for that. She admired your recklessness as much as she hated it, knowning you could get in trouble for that. "We just have to make sure that they don't catch us. What they don't know can't hurt, right?"

Except it does, because they always knew. Until recently, she hadn't be able to understand why they kept you around all these years. You were an average widow wrapped in a sick layer of trouble, closer to the girls who received a bullet in their head than to those who held the gun.

You were borned in a place where light doesn't exist, and yet you had the brightest smile. You had no memories of your family. They ripped you from them before you could learn the sound of their voices but that never stopped you from dreaming. You spent your time imagining a life you've never — and will never — know, and it contaminated the others. Even she has sometimes surprised herself dreaming about what her life would be outside these walls.

"One day, I will marry you," you've told her back then, and she didn't believe you until you swore on every you had. Even if it wasn't a lot, it meant everything for the blonde.

It was more than a childish promise, it was the hope of a brighter future, and she held on it. Every time, even now, she sooth herself asleep by thinking about what your life together could be like. You would've the biggest house that can exist, and it would be far from everything, just the two of you, and maybe a dog or a cat. You would both love that peaceful and quiet place. It would be your little secret, a space just for the two of you that no one would know about.

"I'll find you. They can't separate us forever," she told you the day you were moved to a different unit with a few other girls. It was a week before the graduation, and she was scared that you didn't passed. That day, they took away the light of the group, and things has never been the same anymore. Maybe that's why they kept you for so long, to instil hope in the hearts of the other girls, only to rip it from them later. To break them into obedience.

The blonde kept her promise. She's been looking for you since she left that place. You were the last piece needed for the new life she wanted to start, and the most important one. It's been years she hasn't see you, what if she can't reconignise your face? What if you don't even remember her? All these questions were swirling in her head as she was waiting in her car, parked in the other side of the street. It was never easy to track a widow, especially when they seem to have done everything to make you disappear form the files.

After a few months, she eventually got a lead. She found a file about a mission you've been working on a few years ago but, most importantly, she found the widow that was sent in with you, the one she was waiting for in front of her building.

"Where is she?" she asked, showing a picture of you to the woman. The latter frown but when she eventually recognize the young face she was being shown as yours. However, all she gives to the blonde is a sad smile. She didn't need more to understand what those desolate eyes meant.

Yet, she didn't believed until she was shown the place of your grave. She wasn't even sure if you were there, they probably left your body were it died or maybe they burned it. She doesn't know, and she is not sure she wants to. That day, she left the cimetery without the ring she has bought for you when she got out, tossing it in the bushes.

As she walked away, she could still hear your voice and the promise you made that day. The one you've never — and will never — kept. You lied, and you breaking her trust was the hardest thing she's ever had to accept in her life.

| REQUEST GUIDELINES — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| Tag list - @m0nsterqzzz

[wallacejwriting]

BY THE RITES OF STARS ★ an anti-military science fantasy

the first book in the starkyda universe

genre | science fantasy, military fantasy, steampunk/gaslamp fantasy

audience | adult

pov | multi-pov, (usually) third person limited, present

series premise | a bunch of queer, disabled dragon riders try to raise a rebellion, take down a fascist, patriarchal regime, and save the world at the same time.

themes & tropes | chosen one(s), prophecies, meddling gods, dragons & dragon riders, griffon riders, magic/military academy, anti-military, anti-fascism, power of friendship/love, the power of being different, found family, animal companions, magitech, Hard Magic, if you try to get rid of us we only get stronger

content warnings | queerphobia in all its forms (homophobia, acephobia, transphobia, polyphobia, etc), fatphobia, ableism & eugenics rhetoric, child & spousal abuse, systematic abuse, indentured labour, animal death, graphic violence, misgendering, dead naming, animal abuse, some very minor cannibalism as a side effect of other stuff

★ SYNOPSIS

For three hundred years, the world of Lumira has existed on the brink of apocalypse. Only the hard work of the dragon riders, stationed across the three lowest islands, keeps the otherworldly fungus, known as the Blight, from swallowing the world. But it is no longer enough. Six years ago, Saoirse Cuirc declared herself a girl before the statues of the Gods and spoke with the Goddess herself, Sáerlaith, who declared Saoirse the first of nine Chosen - people on Tairkyda who would stop the Blight and save the world. Now, in the present, Saoirse, her best friend Lucian, and many others are on their way to their first year at Tairkyda's military academy to become dragon riders. But from the very start, it's clear that she, Lucian, and all the other "different" initiates aren't welcome. Divided into different flights, pushed down and harassed by students and teachers alike, and constantly chasing after a goddess she can't seem to find, Saoirse is failing before she even starts. And Lucian, split into a flight with Kiryu, who won't stop picking fights with him, isn't fairing much better. Elsewhere in the school, Jules, an indentured student, fights back against unfair rules and clashes with a professor who vows to make them understand consequences. When Jules discovers that one of their flight mates, Sabine, is cursed and will die within the year, they rally Wren to help save Sabine and her brother. But the further they dig, the harder it is to stay out of reach of those who want to harm them. In engineering, Lara and Bran are both after answers that neither one can find alone -- Lara is trying to save her father's career, while Bran hunts for the answer behind the hiccups in the island's magitech. Cináed, their new lab assistant, just wants to go home to Underside, and if helping these two gives them a chance, then they'll do whatever it takes. And in Underside, Kat hunts for a way to Topside to find her missing sibling and teams up with the silent and deadly Rhys, who wants revenge for their murdered mother. But their journeys to Topside, and to their goals, will be far more fraught than they can imagine. All Saoirse wants is to be normal. All Jules wants is to go home. All Wren wants is to be strong. But if they are to save their new friends, stay in the academy, keep their dragons, and have any chance at fulfilling the duties of the Chosen, duties all three are quickly thrust into, they'll need to work together, learn everything they can, and be prepared to give up everything in the face of both saving the world and making Tairkyda into a home they want to live in. The last years of a three century war are beginning. But it's not just saving lives that matters. It's creating reasons to keep living, too.

★ CHARACTERS

Saoirse Cuirc: 19, she/her, trans woman. Heiress to the Cuirc family. Type 1 diabetes. Anxiety disorder. Fat.

All Saoirse has ever wanted was to just be a normal girl, but no matter how hard she tries, she can't even taste it. Anxious, overeager, and already feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders, Saoirse is the first of nine Chosen and is meant to find the rest and serve as their leader. Except Saoirse doesn't want to lead. She just wants to make friends and get to pretend she isn't the world's best chance at avoiding destruction. But she can't forget, not even for a second.

Jules Locke: 19, they/them, non-binary. Fringe farmer. Autistic. Migraines. Fat.

Blunt, hardworking, and endlessly curious, Jules is dragged into the world of dragon riders and politics when they stumble across, and hatch, a dragon egg near their family farm in the Fringe. Indentured until they can pay it off, Jules is determined to get home to their grandfather as quickly as possible - but their plans might be waylaid after they discover Sabine's curse and find themself unable to leave her to fight alone.

Wren Hashimoto: 19, they/them, trans masc. Youngest of the Hashimoto family. Stoat beastie. Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome. Celiac.

After an entire childhood spent under the well-meaning and overbearing thumbs of their family, hatching an egg means Wren finally has some freedom. But arrival at the academy quickly proves that this world is not built for them, and Wren finds themself fighting just to keep their head above water. The people looking down want Wren to fail, and Wren will stop at nothing to disappoint them. But the true fight might not be with the world outside, but with the vast, burning anger inside them that might swallow their world whole.

Kiryu Furukawa: 19, he/him, cis man. Half-fae and least favourite of the Furukawa family. Juvenile arthritis. Tinnitus. Alpha-gal syndrome. Eating disorder NOS. Bipolar disorder.

Born out of wedlock and to one of the few fae still in Lumira, Kiryu has had the cards stacked against him in Tairkyda since the start. But it wasn't until he was nine years old, when his father found out about and tracked him down, that Kiryu even knew he was destined to be cursed. Until then, he'd been a normal kid. Trapped in his father's house and slowly worn down by years of bigotry and abuse, Kiryu got quiet, started playing stupid, and did everything he could in hopes of getting home to his mother and sisters. Now, with a dragon hatched, his father and eldest brother have recruited him in a mission to change the Chosen, and if he succeeds, he'll finally get to go home and breathe. Now if only he didn't despise his father and this culture and didn't take every opportunity to pick fights and start chaos.

Lucian: 19, he/him, cis man. Beastie. Saoirse's personal guard and companion. Gigantism. Migraines. Fat.

Lucian's first memories are hunger, fear, and pain. His first memory of light is Saoirse, then known by another name, and she gave his world light and meaning. For years, Lucian has lived in Saoirse's shadow, off the streets and out of bad homes only because she took interest in him. He protects her with everything she has. But he longs for more. Lucian longs for open skies and smiling faces, for notoriety that comes not from Saoirse, but from his own name and his own merit. And when he hatches a dragon egg, something he never thought he could do, Lucian isn't sure if this will give him more opportunity to make a name for himself, or seal him into his role as Saoirse's number two forever.

Sabine Bellerose: 19, she/her, cis woman. Oldest child of the Bellerose family. Blind. PTSD.

Sabine is dying. She knows she's dying and, furthermore, she knows she can't be saved. That's fine. All she wants, before her father's stupid curse kills her, is to save her brother. But when she hatches a dragon egg she didn't even want, the timeline changes. Her father sends her off to the academy with an hourglass around her throat. The day after the school year ends, Sabine will die. Frustrated and helpless, Sabine will fight with everything she has to save her brother. Herself? She gave up on herself years ago.

Cináed: 19, they/them, genderless. Half-fae and indentured servant of Topside. Autistic. Hard of hearing.

Cináed's not supposed to be here - here, in Topside; here, as staff; here, unable to leave because of the stupid charm wrapped around their ankle that they can't get off. If they could, there'd be nothing stopping them from running home and finding their sister again. After nine years of waiting, very few consequences are going to get in Cináed's way of finally tasting freedom. But for them to get there, they'll have to work alongside two of Topsiders up-and-coming magineers, and the more Cináed's responsibilities to Topside and feelings for both Lara and Bran grow, the harder it is to run home for good.

Lara Acardi: 21, she/her, trans woman. Cerebral palsy. Seizures. Fat.

Everything can be understood if you are patient, humble, and never give up. This is Lara's life motto. Raised by a brilliant, warm man, who is also the head military scientist of Tairkyda, Lara has spent her life in awe of science and magic. She is a person who chases ideas, opportunities, and dreams, even if they might seem far fetched. And when her father struggles to find a solution to a new Blight problem, which leads to pressure from above, Lara recruits her friend Bran, and new lab assistant Cináed, into helping her solve the problem and save her father's reputation and career.

Bran Fáolan: 22, he/him, trans man. Albinism. Autistic. OCD.

Bran and his family have never fit into the upper crust of Tairkyda. Described, at best, as "overly obsessed weirdos", Bran's widowed mother encourages her children to do what brings them joy. For Bran, that is science! Driven by an insatiable need to create something impossible, something no one else has seen, Bran toils in the engineering labs everyday, seeing little point in personal relationships or like, being nice. But when the anomalies he's tracking start to add up, Bran ropes Lara and Cináed into helping him discover exactly who, or what, is causing the magitech in Tairkyda to malfunction and flicker.

Padma: 12, she/her, cis girl. Fisher beastie. Left hand amputee.

Padma survived what many others wouldn't: a limb amputation due to Blight. She only survived because Shahin, her adoptive father, found her and saved her. And she's never stopped trying to save him back. Quick on her feet and vicious with her teeth, Padma has spent years running in the shadow of her fathers' criminal empire in Underside. Now, with the magitech malfunctioning more than ever and Topside tight-lipped about it, Padma has the perfect opportunity to go undercover and get information for her dads. The pressure doesn't matter - all that matters is not letting her dads down. If she can do that, she can do anything.

Katriona "Kat": 22, she/her, cis woman. Berserker. Right arm amputee (above the elbow). Bipolar disorder.

Nine years ago, Kat lost Cináed to Topside and it's all her fault. She just wanted them to eat something good. She thought if they stole from Topside they could make good money selling what they grabbed. Instead, she lost the only family she had left. Now, Kat is an underground fighter; letting out her anger in the ring while she saves up money to get information about Topside and Cináed's whereabouts. When Kat gets the chance to team up with someone even scarier than her, she takes it to get to Cináed quicker. Despite her anger, Kat's pretty good at taking care of other people, particularly those younger than her. A lot of kids in Underside go to her for help.

Rhys: 15, they/them, agender. Farsider. Wolf beastie. Autistic. Nonverbal.

Rhys did not exist before they were six years old. They appeared, stumbling, broken, and weeping, in Underside nine years ago. After accidentally killing over a dozen people with strange shadows, Rhys fainted, and a doctor determined that Rhys had survived Blightfall, the final, and fatal, stage of Blight. Many wanted to study them, many wanted to use them, but Rhys ended up with Madeline, a woman who came to be their mother. Rhys loves Madeline. Rhys loves Underside. And Rhys has terrible powers that no one else does. And when the Enforcers of Topside kill their mother, Rhys casts aside their deep desire to be good - to be a hero - and takes up revenge. No one gets away with killing their mom. No one.

★ SETTING

Starkyda is a world in three parts: the Aether (above), the Nether (below), and Lumira (the world between). It's got similar technology to the 1880s-1910s era of development, it's in the first big stages of its industrial revolution, and magic is woven into everything. This is a world of floating islands. After a great flood many many years ago, the Gods rose the islands and their people into the sky to protect them from the endless waters. There were many changes during The Flood, including the hybridization of all living creatures. Cowpigs and chickurkeys and raccoorrels. (Also the dragons do not talk, just so we're clear.) Magic is not restricted to bloodlines or anything similar in Lumira. Any person can wield magic and the stars provide the layouts of every spell possible. However, without taeliswood - a highly guarded resource on Tairkyda - a person can only access a fraction of the magic in the world. Only through wealth, connections, or access to the military academy is it possible to gain the taeliswood for proper wand cores, brooms, and even the most coveted of all: a taelismera. Tairkyda, our main setting, is the lowest inhabited island left in Lumira. Those lower fell into the ocean after the Blight infected the island's living soul and killed them. Without a soul, the island plummets. Tairkyda is an island, divided. Topside, the city above ground, is deeply classist and run by five separate and feuding groups known as the Five Families. Only the academy is a neutral ground. The Wall, which separates the inhabited island from the Blighted sections, holds its own culture, as does the Fringe, the large ring of farms that wrap around the outside of the city, beyond the protection of most of its walls. But perhaps the most disparate section of the island is Underside - the literal underbelly of Tairkyda, located beneath the infrastructure of Topside and dug into the caves, the cliffs, and the dirt itself, until a mirror of Topside exists within its shadow. This is the more overt criminal world of Tairkyda, and mostly it houses those deemed undesirable by society or who were unlucky enough to be born down there. The military academy is the heart of Topside and is where all members of the military, whether foot, support, dragon rider, griffon rider, etc., are trained. The academy provides the largest supply of dragon riders to the war against the Blight. While two other islands have small colonies - Starletom and Hornkider - nearby, neither has a robust dragon rider population and few eggs choose to hatch for them each year. It is not an exaggeration to say that, as the world stands, if Tairkyda were to fall into the ocean, it would mean the end of the world.

★ LINKS | Book Tag / Series Tag / Rambling Tag / Profiles / Excerpts / Worldbuilding / Playlist

★ TAGLIST | @reminiscentrevelry,

ask to be added or removed from the taglist! taglist used for snippets, character profiles, worldbuilding posts, and other larger, wip related content.

[strawb3rries-eternity]

My immediate response to people who hate on fucking BARBIE having a Hollywood movie as their personality trait:

[stardustdiiving]

Me explaining in terms of strictly how I read canon I think Nahida not severely punishing the Sages is just meant to convey that Nahida, even when wronged, is not a very vengeful or harsh person and makes the choice to be kind instead, but in my mind I have this idea of a Nahida interpretation which elaborates on that where her self punishing tendencies extend to her being someone who internally downplays her own experiences constantly, and as a result has a hard time feeling she’s allowed or justified in placing a lot of blame on the Sages for what they did to her So while she is following her own philosophies regarding teaching lessons/wisdom/etc in how to handle the Sages and genuinely doesn’t want to be really angry or punishing because of who she is as a person, her decision is also influenced by the fact she’s basically blocked herself out of grappling with how to handle people who hurt her by blaming herself for said hurt instead as a coping mechanism. And like this is all just me being insane about Nahida Trauma and not something explicitly implied in canon but also I really do think this isn’t a far stretch from her canon characterization especially when my vision isn’t to conclude that Nahida needs to be angry and vengeful but she should extend the kindness she shows others to herself and also every day I get tormented thinking about she was the mental equivalent of an average human child when the Sages found her and how they basically specifically discarded her for being a child and the idea of how Nahida would pick up on + internalize that and eventually need time to unlearn it

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

honestly wally is stronger than atlas. if i had to constantly calibrate to the nature of my reality w/ full consciousness i would simply lose my fucking mind

[redrobin-detective]

Iruma is an invasive species within the Netherworld, and like many invasive species he will conquer if left unchecked.

We know at some point, humans and demons interacted though, at some point, they each became each other’s myths. I propose that the separation was intentional on the demon side, relegating humans to bedtime stories. They did this because they knew a single human could elevate or devastate the Netherworld. Humans are weaker in demons in most ways physically but their real strength lies in their cooperativeness and desire for community, adaptability  and perseverance despite adversity.

Right from the start, Iruma has unnaturally succeeded in a world that incredibly hostile to him. And yet from the start be began building relationships. We’ve seen demons don’t have much of a concept of ‘friends’ the closest being ‘allies’. The Misfits individually were lazy and self-centered which is what got them sent to troublemakers class. Only when Iruma reached out and formed positive relationships, created a foreign system of giving and receiving help did they really flourish. With each arc, we see the class cooperating and relying with each other more and more, even in individual events. Its helped them grow exponentially in power and personality and only occurred because Iruma planted the notion that they are stronger together.

Iruma is also extremely adaptable not only from his hectic upbringing but his innate humanity. Despite not knowing the context of what is happening during most of his day, he adapts extremely well. He uses what skills he gained in the human world by tweaking them to suit his needs and picked up new demonic skills (such as using Ali-san’s stored magic) very quickly. Part of the ‘special training’ leading up to the Harvest Festival was forcing the kids to break out of just using their bloodline abilities. Iruma has no power himself and thus isn’t limited in what he uses to complete a task. We’ve seen on a few occasions he wins simply because his opponent is too stuck in a particular way of fighting and thinking. Being able to think on his feet and not just stick to the familiar is what makes him such a fierce opponent.

Finally, we’ve observed that demons on the whole are self-centered and lazy. This is not always the case but overall many lack the ability to pursue or accept change. Even the Six Fingers is all about returning to origins and reviving Delkira, in other words, moving backwards. But since he arrived in the Netherworld Iruma has boldly moved forward. He integrated well into a completely alien environment and not only became popular but powerful very quickly. He worked hard to unlearn an ingrained skill (dodging) to win a contest going head to head with the most powerful student. Even when his fellows wanted to give up, his dedication and well known compassion helped win them the Royal One. He became an expert archer even when his master said most demons gave up, refusing to put in the effort. Challenges that most demons backed down from, Iruma charged on ahead.

Iruma used his ability to bring people together, to adapt to any situation no matter how strange and to see his ambitions through to go from someone who should’ve been eaten on day one to a stand out demon. Iruma himself is a kind, extraordinary young man but he also has a natural advantage in an environment he is unknowingly adapted to. It’s one of the reasons why he will eventually be demon king because who else deserves to stand at the very top than the creature who can outnumber, out-think and outlast any demonic opponent?

[lecliss]

I'll never be able to take the theory that Vincent is Sephiroth's real father seriously cuz I cannot stress enough how important I think it is to the plot that Vincent wanted to fuck Lucrecia and did not get to.

[buckttommy]

Who knew Eddie's dream sequence in 5x14 of Christopher, present yet distant, would be foreshadowing for the arc they're going to go through in Season 6

[airbenderedacted]

So who’s your favorite character in Wander Over Yonder? And what’s your fav ship(s)?

Oh, I love playing this guessing game!! ♡ ～('▽^人) ✨

Favorite character? Well...

[🎨📺]

As for ships, I wouldn't exactlyy say I ship anything in this show tbch, but I'd say I'm especially fond of Sylava, in a strictly fanon kinda way.

[quietwingsinthesky]

I mean rn I wish you would write a fic w a description of 11089 so I can draw them 👉👈 :lookingaway:

bold of you to assume i even know what they look like alsjfjgljdksk

things i know about 11089’s appearance (revealed to me as if receiving prophecy):

1) You know those posts about how the ultimate image of androgyny in our society ends up being people who are skinny and hairless and sexless? so there’s our starting point, the horror story of that being forced upon you because it’s more useful for you to be as similar to the rest of the crew as possible because then you can simply be quantified by the amount of resources you can provide versus those you take. because every single time i think about this spaceship, it becomes an even more dystopian situation because how else would they survive when they were underprepared and have no way of getting help.

1a) what i’m saying is there’s a very good reason they’re instantly fascinated by visual modes of self-expression like dyeing hair. (similarly fascinated by other bodily changes, whether natural, like when Donna gets a burst of freckles across her face when she’s been out in the sun, or unnatural, absolutely transfixed by piercings and good for them.)

1b) they are going to be so much better off once they’re living on the TARDIS and can put on some weight and some muscle from running around with aliens and let their hair grow out all fluffy and uneven (and eventually accidentally turn it orange through hair bleach mishaps and keep it that way)

2) related, but they tend to prefer bright colors on other people rather then themself, for the most part. fun sometimes but attention-grabbing in a way that layered shades of gray are less so. so however they dress, it’s with a trend towards darker colors with little splashes of brightness from accessories or such.

3) set in stone for me now is the idea that where this story ends up going is ‘Someone Has To Keep An Eye On Donna And Her Completely Human Friend, John Smith’. If a Donna can’t survive being a human metacrisis or whatever with all the Doctor’s memories in her little human brain, why should Ten 2.0 be any different. Donna gets mindwiped, but Ten Again goes voluntarily to keep living, to stay near her, a measure that will mean if her memory starts itching her about some ‘Doctor’, she’ll associate his face with John instead and stop digging.

Which wraps back around to 11089 because I’m now very attached to Another Ten getting FOB watched and 11089 wearing it on a chain at all times. It’s definitely a totally normal and reasonable burden for them to carry their friends’ lives around their neck. this is very healthy behavior and does NOT show a lack of ability to set boundaries in situations that will end up hurting them or a need to prove that they can be useful that overrides everything else. they’re fine. this will not end up going horribly wrong as the guilt of hiding these things from people they love gnaws at them, and they start looking for any other solution only to find dead end after dead end and get desperate enough to start thinking ‘well, if the doctor couldn’t figure it out, maybe if we had another timelord-’

3a) but that’s not important. what’s important is watch on a chain that they can never ever open.

[cruelsister-moved2]

so many peoples allyship to trans women is just 99% calling them beautiful and then only supporting them when you find them attractive like you people are MISOGYNISTS anyway shout out to trans women who look average as hell and are just some girl

[arolesbianism]

Besties besties guess who just got toonsquid

[lemongogo]

[zephyrfuse]

hi, i am still following u

i get it i hate the fetishization stuff too (im filipino but one side of my family is chinese and i look a lot like em, i understand the pain)

😭😔🤝 yeah.....the opinions are even more divisive and less nuanced when you're chinese (and then people forget se/s asians exist alltogether)

it's just very telling how the same people will froth over your media and then in the same breath look at you and your food weird when you exist irl or share your thoughts about living as a human being like :)💥

anyway 🤝 stay strong and thank you 💙