#he never asked! and she never mentioned the name of her beloved! and nobody told her how he died!

[throwaway-yandere]

𝗖𝗹𝗮𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗱𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 [Yandere!Dottore/Reader]

a/n: this fic is 100% dedicated to @leftdestiny-posts and they would know just how much they had inspired me in this fic once they finished reading it HAHAHAHAH. P.S.: the classical songs mentioned are actual songs. Yes, the title is half a joke. Here's the spotify playlist if you're curious.

Unreliable Synopsis: You cannot remember your past, but your doctor has been with you every step of the way— and he's more than willing to spend some time with you outside the hospital. Still... did you always have pure white hair?

CW: yandere themes, light body horror, manipulation, its dottore, c'mon LOL.

Concert II "Tristezza Di Fine Anno", performed by the Morespoke Philharmonic with their conductor, Lady Columbina, began nearly an hour ago. And you had the fortune of hearing their songs for yourself.

The well-dressed crowd filled the seats, behaving in what was appropriate for their high station. It was fully booked. The music overwhelmingly masked anyone's breaths, if they had one to start with. Her program can be felt deep in the audience's bones. Rattling them in each sforzando before it lulls down through the sound of her handpicked musicians— with Lady Columbina as the lonesome soloist when the moment calls for it.

"This piece, Symphony No. 5 in C-Sharp Minor, is not Columbina's own making, she had failed to mention that," your company hummed. "This was by another composer who hid behind the name Safed. They were a self-fulling prophecy. Do you wish to know what they said about this piece?"

You said nothing as Zandik— Lord Dottore— stroked your unnaturally "white" hair.

"They said that nobody understood the piece and that they wish they could conduct the first performance five centuries after their death."

Zandik smiled.

"What say you? Do you think those words are true?"

Your company was a tall and thin man with artificially pale-ish skin and wavy blue hair. His eyes were reportedly bloodshot crimson, although you had not received proof of that in this lifetime. But, you were drawn to his deep ocean-like colors, and that was enough to keep you mildly complacent to his strange remarks.

Zandik is surprisingly a considerate man, but he must've brought you with him for a reason. He told you himself that the reason he brought you out of your prison-like hospital room was a mere experiment on his behalf. Paradigm-shifting consequences of his strange social experiments with you are likely to occur, and he cares not for its ethical debates. He won't ask for rhetorics; these to him are tangible outcomes and no questions will be entertained.

All except his.

"I think… "

The composition had a serene, slightly asymmetrical feel to it. You were certain this was Lady Columbina's creative liberties at play. Something about it did not capture its true authenticities. The show purported to narrate three stories: the first concerned a judge who had to find a loved one guilty; the second concerned a prince who drove their beloved into despair; and the final was a tale of a knight who disregarded his obligation to defend a loved one.

But it felt incomplete. As if there was a missing piece— a secret fourth act hiding between the notes and stage.

"A person can't completely mourn for something they would never experience," you told him. "But even so, if I were Safed, I'd feel like my effort would've been a waste."

His eyes remained trained on your hair as you spoke. Zandik seems to dislike it. Unlike his cells mixed with engineered nanomaterials, yours are uniquely… "natural". His hair has a color intensity, whereas yours was the presence of every color— as physics explained it.

"Something they would never experience…" Zandik repeated, tasting the words on his tongue— a smirk etched on his face as though it tasted like bitter irony.

You continued.

"I have a hunch that Safed put everything they worked hard on all their pieces because Lady Columbina wouldn't have performed it otherwise. Since all the songs on the concert's program are marketed as underappreciated compositions, I would… um… infer that they also questioned their works and ultimately themselves if it all had worth in the end. Hopeless for the lack of attention, they probably thought there's more hope if they lived in another generation."

You wanted to say, though you're not sure where this negativity came from, that they probably despised how their well-crafted works were ignored and their sloppy yet significantly more popular compositions angered them.

But you're not Safed. You don't want to put words in their mouth.

".... Hmm, an acceptable hypothesis— a decent one, even," whatever monotonous response Zandik wished to convey, his voice betrayed his grand satisfaction. "Yet I won't give you any confirmation."

"I know."

Zandik laughed.

"The next piece is Norn's Adagio for Strings Op. 11, before the closing Symphony No. 6, better known as Pathétique Symphony, in B Minor Op. 74."

You tilted your head innocently. "Pathetic?"

"Another piece by Safed. It's a Fontaine-translated title. It's originally named pateticheskaya, which meant passionate or emotional, not at all pitiable."

He crossed his arms, insulted as though he was the one who came up with the original title.

"Roughly half a millennium past, the masses attributed Safed's demise to the strains of their final composition, the so-called Pathétique, a mere nine days preceding their exit from this mortal coil. The prevailing narrative spouts a tale of a tragic surrender to the clutches of undiagnosed clinical depression. I find such simplicity in analysis rather pedestrian, wouldn't you agree?"

You took a while to process his inquiry before hesitantly nodding.

"I… I think so."

Zandik smiled.

It's hard to tell if it's genuine, especially when such a protruding mask hides his eyes. Should its existence vanish, you aren't certain you'd see a soul within his pupils either.

"Safed hated this piece, believing it should be cast aside and forgotten. They were living in the woodlands when they wrote it— and when they decided to live with their benefactor, it was suddenly difficult to tear them away from their work."

You nodded to cue that you were still listening.

"They have an incredibly deep connection with their works. One might say they see in tunes rather than color."

You nodded again.

"Your inclination towards a perpetual affirmation of propositions, presumably to veil any potential lacunae in your cognitive purview, does not escape me. It is, if I may be so bold, your agreement that conceals your specter of unfamiliarity, right?"

You rarely understand a word he says when he is in this passionate state. You just nod as if you knew.

"Adorable," Zandik chuckled.

His voice was chillingly low yet… comforting. 

"Your sincerity constitutes an enchanting facet of your comportment."

He had to be teasing you.

"Although…" Zandik grabbed a few locks of your hair as though it was slimy and unpleasant— quickly retracting them with a disapproving tilt. "You could stand to utilize more (h/c) hair dyes. How is it conceivable that it has returned to white yet again?"

You opened your mouth but Zandik raised a finger.

"No. I am the scholar here. Do not answer."

You giggled. "Understood, Doctor."

He grinned, inadvertently showing off his pointed canines.

"What a good test subject you are, my dear (Y/n)."

Whether good was a subjective or objective assessment or not was up to interpretation.

The mid-concert intermission began, allowing Lady Columbina's pressured musicians a 20-minute sigh of relief. Zandik ushered you to the back where the Lady Harbinger reposed on a white sofa, her cheek brushing a visibly soft and cloud-like pillow. The bright backstage lighting made her seem ethereal.

She looked like heaven, but Zandik would argue that "(Y/n)" is the true epitome of the word.

"Greetings. As expected, you'd initiate conversation at the earliest convenience." She cooed. "You look younger today, Doctor."

"You know very well that I do not take that as a compliment, Columbina." Zandik scoffed. "How many times will we rehearse this canned script until it is a learned lesson?"

"Perhaps it shall end on the day you refrain yourself from recreating… perspectives."

"Since my encounter with the Dendro Archon, I have not revisited that notion."

Columbina's gentle smile dropped coldly. "You know that your segments are not what I am referring to."

You looked back and forth between the two. Each of them was a distinctively unique person and it's a challenge to take your eyes away from the other.

Hence, when you felt Lady Columbina's eyes on you, you shook and straightened yourself before bowing stiffly.

"G-Greetings, Lady Columbina!!!"

Her gentle smile resurfaced.

"Greetings to you as well, dear Safed."

You blinked.

Dottore clicked his tongue, and Columbina laughed softly.

"Apologies, I meant to say (Y/n)— that is the name you go by in this era of humanity, right?"

You'd rightfully claim that between the three of you, you were the most human. Zandik has his clones, Columbina's origins are of strict secrecy, and you are a mere amnesiac patient. But the way she addressed you was sounding awful like stripping you away with that sense of humane identity.

"Yes? I guess?"

Columbina delightedly buzzed in your reply. "(Y/n)— truly a lovely name. That must mean that you're very healthy! It warms my heart to hear that name again. The other ones had terribly dull names, but if the Doctor had given you this title, then it must mean his research is finally drawing to a close."

Her remarks made little sense. You know little about yourself and trust only the Doctor's judgment. Should you trust her words, then it must mean (Y/n) isn't your real name…

But… that doesn't seem right either. 

"Not quite, the name deserves no celebration," Dottore replied happily. "I merely ran out of translations. Bianco, Wit, Bái— what else is there? Ancient Natlan?"

"Scientists truly make for terrible poets— Why not try Inazuman?" Columbina offered.

Those words must have had a heavy weight to them because Zandik pondered for much longer than expected.

"Hmm. I'll keep that in mind," Zandik muttered. "Although it is preferable it does not have to reach that point."

"May I ask why did you bring them here?" Columbina asked.

"It's a bit of an unconventional experiment, but I've been exploring how to elicit positive associations with certain stimuli. Exposing them to music as I accompany them should cause them to associate the emotional response it elicits with being around me." Dottore hummed. "It would be asinine to put them in a chaotic yet controlled environment such as a theme park. While a racing heart may be effective, I shouldn't risk a (Y/n)'s well-being by subjecting them to roller coasters."

"Are you sure you're not the scared one?" You asked cheekily. Zandik rolled his eyes.

She shook her head.

"What a roundabout way of saying you're taking them out on a concert date…"

Columbina looked at you once more.

"Oh, but (Y/n), you appear unwell, my dear…" she pointed at stage left. "Why don't you fix yourself up in the nearest restroom?"

Dottore raised an eyebrow, which made you want to decline Columbina.

"I'm r-really okay, Lady Colum—"

"I insist."

Columbina smiled wider. Her laced mask cast a gloomy shade on her visage.

You had no other choice.

"O… Okay."

The halls that led to the restroom were mostly empty. Perhaps it was due to Lady Columbina's performance that made them patiently await the next song.

But there was one young man you encountered along the way. He had blonde half-way braided hair and purple-ish eyes. You paid him no mind as he circled a small rectangular paper, likely the concert's ticket, between his fingers. However, within a second, that paper vanished.

You stopped in your tracks and looked at him curiously, wondering if your eyes played tricks. He laughed, noting your attention.

"Ah! Sorry," he cheerfully gestured a small wave. "Didn't mean to practice in public."

The blonde man approached you with a smile.

"You're #9805, right?"

Immediately, you both got on the wrong foot.

Your nose scrunched, "I prefer (Y/n)."

The man flinched. "Oh, yikes! I'm not making the best first impression— nice to meet you (Y/n)! I have something for you."

You thought he was handing you his concert ticket for a moment but when you took a good look, it was a grayscale brochure.

And a white tulip…

"Um…"

"Needless to say, I'm something of a—"

"Trickster?"

"Magician, but an astute guess nonetheless!" He laughed sheepishly. "I was waiting for you, I thought you wouldn't go to the restroom."

So, did Lady Columbina plan this?

You caressed the binding and skimmed through the pages. "What's this for?"

"Father said you might be interested in its contents," the young man said. "That's all."

You blinked.

"... Are you saying you missed out most of the concert just to hand me this?"

He laughed awkwardly again. "My dear sister says I have a habit of missing a hint of romanticism when it counts, so I guess today's just one of those moments."

"Did you not like the music?" You scoffed, temper rising.

"Did you hate the composition? Did you not understand the e-emotion behind the chords? Don't you understand just how d-disrespectful that was?!"

"Woah, woah, I didn't say any of that." His eyes widened.

He didn't expect your voice to crack.

"I'm so sorry if you're offended— are you one of the original composers?"

…

You took a deep breath.

… Why were you mad?

… Why did it feel like those songs mean more to you than meets the eye?

"Sorry, I just…" You shook your head. "I guess I'm not feeling well. Oh, no, I'm so SO sorry…"

An unknown part of you thrived to hear him praise the music. That same part pitied the composer who worked day and night to perfect their piece. It's an ugly voice, but it was sincere.

… What was wrong with you? Why did you suddenly lash out? What was going on?

"Oh, well there's no need to be sorry then." The blonde man took his hat off and bowed.

"Farewell, Mx. (Y/n)!" He grinned. "The greatest magician in all Teyvat will take his leave. Thank you for your time!"

With the sway of his dark cape, he disappeared.

You entered the restroom to wash your face. It didn't do much to soothe your nerves. The lingering dread for your strange emotional mood swing remained.

To distract yourself, you read through the article.

The Enigmatic Legacy of Composer Safed

In the annals of musical history, few figures emerge as enigmatic and hauntingly captivating as the orchestral composer, Safed. Born five centuries ago amidst the ancient woodlands of Sumeru, this ethereal musician seemingly materialized from Vanarama with no familial relations.

Huh… So it's about the one who wrote the previous compositions earlier.

No wonder that blonde man asked if you were one of the composers. He was being a smartass.

A Fiery Finale: The Pathétique Symphony

Legend has it that in their final act of emotional expression, Safed penned the "Pathétique Symphony," a composition so emotionally charged that, overwhelmed with disdain for their creation, they purportedly set ablaze their woodland home. Seeking solace and escape, Safed accepted the benevolent offer of a city-dwelling benefactor.

…

…

Safed… burned down their house?

No…

No, that's not how you remembered that.

No.

No. No. No. No. No.

That's not what happened. "Safed" didn't burn their house down.

Suddenly, you stilled. Your thoughts ran wild, but your inner rationale tried to force them to a halt. This peak in anxiety did not make sense.

… Why would an amnesiac like you know what happened?

A Swansong: Il Dottore's Beneficence

Their benefactor, now celebrated as our Lord Harbinger, Il Dottore, welcomed Safed into the city's heart. It was here that the truth unfolded: Safed had been grappling with hearing loss for years, an affliction that fueled their artistic brilliance yet cloaked them in a muffled world. They were unaware of their disability, yet thrived in their field.

…

…

Wait…

Before you began to read the final paragraph in Safed's brochure, you hurriedly went back to Dottore and the composer's vintage photographed portraits.

After seeing their face, you dropped the brochure in the restroom's sink.

You saw their face.

You saw YOUR face and Zandik's.

But not quite. That was you, but at the same time, it wasn't. Zandik looked stiff in those photos with "you", likely a product of the time since Kamera photography was used only in rare formalities that required a bit of dress up. But the "you" you saw was sickly way beyond the formal costumes. They had (e/c) eyes and (h/c) hair, but yours were all white. 

White…

Safed… That's the Sumeru translation for white, isn't it?

Bianco, Wit, Bái— they're all translations for "white", aren't they? And if Dottore and Columbina's earlier conversations were to go by, the one after you would be named Shiro.

…

The one… after you?

"Tut tut."

You trembled at the familiar sound.

You slowly turned your head around and there he was, leaning against the restroom door.

"You were in the restroom for too long. It appears my suspicions were not unfounded."

Without waiting for a response, he approached with large strides. His gloved hands seized your stressed shoulders. The grip tightened harshly as he forced you to meet his intense gaze. Blood trailed from the corner of your mouth, and your anxiety heightened. He angrily bared his sharp teeth as he watched it stain his gloves.

And yet Zandik looks…

Sad.

And distressed.

He pressed his earpiece.

"Test Subject #9805 exhibits troubling symptoms. Hematemesis suggests a severe physiological response. Persistent manifestations of albinism in ocular and follicular pigmentation indicate underlying deformities. Immediate isolation is warranted for the researcher and subject's well-being."

His hand was cold. Skin imbued with silver nanomaterials after several operations, reminiscent of the age-old philosophical question: "Is it still the same ship if you gradually replace all of its parts?" 

Then Zandik did something unexpected.

He dropped his hold and you prepared yourself by shutting your eyes as he swung his arm.

To hug you.

"I'm sorry, I have failed you again, (Y/n)," Zandik muttered. "I should not have raised my expectations."

"W… What? Why are you putting me in isolation?" You asked, rattled. "What have I done?! I just— I didn't do anything wrong! What did I—"

He shifted, dragging your arm to hug him back as though you were a little girl's doll. Zandik rested his head on your shoulder, shaking slightly.

"In your innocence, no fault lies. I thought I had accomplished what I had set out to do, and met unfulfilled expectations" Zandik gritted his teeth, voice somber. "Despite centuries of refinement, it appears that I still have room for improvement in perfecting the process… I was right. This deserves no celebration."

The doctor laughed sadly.

"When will I ever be proven wrong?" He asked himself as he wiped the blood off the corner of your lips.

He pulled away, pecking your forehead.

"I'm sorry."

Those were not the words you expected from his mouth, and yet you heard it more than once. I'm sorry. It does not fit his character, nor does the tender yet cold hug he had given prior.

You're scared. You're terrified. You know what was bound to come. You know what awaits you. White walls. Silence. Separation.

Solitary.

Far from a choice. Far from negotiable.

There's no amnesty.

And yet, the words flowed from you naturally.

"... I forgive you."

You have no idea why you said what you said. There's no certainty that you believed your own words. Zandik's lip twitched downward.

"You should not," Zandik croaked. "Why? Why must you always forgive and accept my selfishness? Do you derive satisfaction in seeing me in this state?!"

You opened your mouth to answer but were stopped abruptly as he grabbed your hair.

Zandik had always favored you compared to other patients. You know this very well. He's an evil man and the list of actions he had done that had harmed you in the name of science is at least two pages long upon your awakening. Yet, you were sure he liked you enough for he told you of his new exciting experiments. He scolded you when you left his research institute for fresh air. And he would hold your hand whenever you dreaded those thick injections.

You just didn't know he had it in him to fold from his intimidating facade just to kiss you like a desperate man. 

Breathless under his control, he softly pressed his lips against yours. His lips were chapped and cold, and he took you in gently as though he'd break you. Zandik, as strange as it was, still seemed to prioritize your comfort over his needs. Normally, this tension would've made him so short-tempered. But this will be your last interaction. The doctor tasted your blood in his mouth, and he was nauseous at the thought of hurting you more. But he stopped. Even though he wishes to force all his pent-up desires onto you. Even though he wanted to love you thoroughly that you'd forget your name again.

Zandik whimpered quietly as he pulled away— sounding like a dog that would not sleep that night. What was left in between was a thin disappearing line of saliva and blood that quickly broke off.

The doctor should be happy he finally got to have a proper date with you after 9805 failed attempts. 

But he's not content.

He was about to lean in for the second time but stopped himself. Selfish. To think he nearly saw you two finally walking down the aisle. Why was he always so selfish when it came to you? But those rhetorics mattered not in your head.

You were silenced. You were held.

You were loved.

"No." Zandik breathed in, laughing humorlessly. "No— I am the scholar here. Don't answer."

And you will be disposed of.

"Take them away." He spoke to his men calmly. They had entered long enough to witness what he had done. The men did not hesitate to grab you, thinking Dottore thought you no more than a mere toy.

But calm was deceptive. It does not convey the distress that chokes him.

Maybe…

Maybe in the 9806's trial… he'll have you as he always wanted.

The Fatuus that escorted you in was gentle. A silent guide. The expression on her face was clear that she wanted to extend her apologies as well but mustn't.

You already have a white tulip in hand.

Arlecchino already sended her regards in advance.

When she opened the door by tapping a card against the lock, she bowed her head. You let yourself enter without a fight. The room was pure white with the rest of the furniture matching the drapes. But Dottore didn't just provide the necessities. There were books, sketch pads, and other recreational materials.

As you were about to approach the center, something was off on both sides.

You looked to your left.

Two clear mirrors divided your room from the others. There's a sign on the left wall. Code #4135.

You stood, shocked, grieving at the sight of your predecessor. They were a mirror of you but with a different name— and an even worse state.

One had made a slight sound coming off their skin— rotting slightly. There's a tube connected to their mouth and you could see yourself— you could see them dripping. They had your face. Their hair and eyes were white. The nose was gone, leaving a gaping hole. Their neck was cricked back at an unnatural angle. You don't know if they're still breathing. They're still bleeding. They must've bitten off their tongue.

There's a lone white blanket that covers the rest of them.

You think they might be dead.

You think "you" might've died more than once.

THUD!

You jolted at the sound coming from the wall behind you. Upon seeing their body, you froze.

Code #032.

They were but a head. You wish you could only focus on that aspect, but you looked lower and your hair raised. They cannot feel the same, for they were almost only a spine left. The rest of them were their skeletal frame, guided by thin lines one can barely call flesh.

Their head banged against the mirror. The thought that the sound was what made you flinch earlier made you unwell.

They seem to be telling you something. Their breath fogged up the glass and their thinned white hair splayed across your view. Their mouth said something urgently you couldn't comprehend because their tongue was paper-like in size.

#032 was shaking. Their pain grew vivid in every movement that the room was starting to spin. You sensed their turmoil.

They looked like death.

You all looked like death itself, both the pretty and ugly ends of it.

"Don't." You whispered, begging as you knelt to their level. "You don't have to speak."

You laughed deprecatingly.

"We're not the scholar here. He is."

In every syllable, you saw the outline of their esophagus strain. The nerves were blueish purple. The little skin they have left on their cheeks is sunken. Their lips were gnawed, likely as a response to the pain they'd gone through previously. Fists of bone tapped against the glass, and you quivered, imagining their pain.

You were not afraid of them. You only mourned their anguish. In fact, you feel at ease to be in the presence of yourself from the past.

It reminded you of what "Safed" had allegedly spoken years ago.

Nobody understood the pieces you made and you wished you could conduct the first performance five centuries after your first death.

And now, here you are.

Seeing two "people" who do understand you.

And they share your face.

"Pathetically", the only one that can understand you is yourself.

You're all flies trapped in a web that the predator refuses to wrap and consume out of pity. Compared to the others, you looked fine.

But your lungs were blistering.

Despite their deathly ill and mutilated bodies, you were the one bound to die soon enough.

His experiments worked.

You love him.

You love Zandik.

And how tragic it was that the person who learned how to love him was doomed to perish.

In your last minutes, you recalled something vital:

As an outsider, your body was not meant for this world, but after encountering the woodland creatures and Zandik, it became tremendously difficult to part ways with it.

You coughed up yet again with a gentle smile on your face. Maybe you're not dying…

Maybe you're just returning home, for every atom in your multiple bodies was once part of the galaxy.

You are (Y/n) (L/n).

And you were not from Teyvat.

Much like the rest of the descenders, you have a quirk about you that sets you apart from the norm. For the travelers the world reveres today, it was their distinct determination and questionable age that was remarkable. Yours slightly titters to an inhuman level.

You can "clone" yourself.

Zandik and the "original" you wouldn't phrase it in that manner, but it's the easiest way to describe your talents.

"So, it is cloning." Zandik paused. "Mind letting me in on the science behind the process?"

He was an ordinary student when you both met. Far from a doctor, but at least he was a registered scholar in the Akademiya. Zandik didn't have an eloquent tongue as he does in the present, yet his curiosity burned all the same.

Which is why, back then, you thought his questions were cute.

Not dangerous.

"It's not that I can make copies of myself without consequences," you humored with a grin. "I'm just making… fragments of myself. Segments, if you prefer to call it that. It's a common ability for the people back in my world. None of us do it excessively— especially since we're kind of an invasive species." 

Zandik raised an eyebrow, "is that a commendable trait?"

"My kind says so. Whether good is a subjective or objective assessment or not is up to interpretation." You answered noncommittedly. "I don't think that's right. Our soul splits apart until we're just… empty. We lose some memories in the process."

"But functioning?"

"In a sense, yeah, but we lose a part of ourselves like memories and well, hair color, I guess." You nodded. "Why are you so curious?"

"Since you have rejected my confession, I want to try my hand at seducing a copy of yours instead," Zandik said. You couldn't tell whether he was joking with his naturally piercing red eyes. "Until then, you are not allowed to asexually reproduce without my authorization. Understood?"

You laughed. Unaware of his arsonist crimes, you willingly indulged his words.

"I owe you my ears, so it's only right that I'll listen to your commands, Zandik."

"Good." Zandik grinned, shark-like.

"What a good test subject you are, (Y/n)."

Centuries later, that closing sentence will continue to remain true.

Since then, his life has changed. Multiplied, even. Upon studying your genetic makeup, he found ways to duplicate himself as well. Despite his feats in science, Zandik remained unhappy.

Deep down, all the Harbingers pity the Doctor who cannot save his most loved one. That includes both Columbina and Arlecchino.

No one protests even when harmful orders are given; everything appears fine until the symptoms are felt. Because the organism— the astral descender— has no nerves or voice, he continues to assume that the patient is not in pain.

The patient needs peace but because they are not to speak, they remain silent, and the need persists.

The patient wants to eat and breathe fresh air, but because such desires might hurt the feelings of the doctor who thinks he has done everything needed, the patient remains quiet, contemplating desires out of fear of reprimand.

The original (Y/n) (L/n) suffers in silence. In a white room only accessible by a man who continues to nurse his unrequited love: Zandik.

No one else can enter this room.

He won't allow it. Only he can be obsessed with you.

The thought of you haunts him like a smiling reflection upon window panes— like a gift of a Trojan horse with nothing but your echoing laughter and hospital monitor beeps inside. Your thin limbs were marching clock hands with rusted gears that miraculously function till the end of time.

What is immortality for if every day was a death loop?

It is such a lonely concept…

You ought to be thankful that he's willing to be your eternal company.

"I endeavored to elicit a reciprocation of my sentiments from the latest subject. Regrettably, their discovery of my antecedent experiments transpired prematurely. Nevertheless, as asserted several times, it remains but a temporal inevitability until an iteration of yourself succumbs to having an interest towards me." Dottore hummed.

He held your feet.

He held Test Subject #01's feet.

If you spoke up, he would've bragged about how he was right. How people do love your songs. But no one knows if you can't or won't answer him. This one-sided conversation is the punishment for his hubris.

He took out a sharp knife and cut off one of your toes. You no longer feel any pain as you bleed into his hands. What a kind man the doctor is, for he blocked all your pain receptors years ago. It's a good thing you regenerate quickly.

That's what he loved and hated about you.

You only gave and gave.

But you never ran out of soul. You never ran your heart fully dry— and that left you ill. Zandik could never let you go.

You're already a part of him.

Hence, he must not make clones of exaggerated memories. He wanted your perfect yet healthy replica.

Praise be the white corpuscles extracted from your veins which had brought him new life. You were the reason for his research. You were the breath that gave his segments life. You were his muse, much like he was yours.

"Fear not, (Y/n)," he reassured with a measured tone. "Upon my mastery of the arts, I intend to reinstate your autonomy and awareness. Perhaps then, you shall find the organic inclination to reciprocate affection toward me by the 9806's trial. Until then…"

In other words, give him more time and he'll reinvent love.

He leaned his forehead against yours.

"I'm so, so sorry."

And ultimately, he'll reinvent YOU.

"Can I have another piece of your scalp?"

"No."

"Do you not understand the weight of this research or must I expound on it further in another three-hour presentation?"

"Alternatively, you could start by saying that you're sorry," you raised an eyebrow. "I'm still not over the fact you randomly cut a piece of my ear when I was asleep, doctor. You know, I heard from the aranaras that white tulips are given to someone when they ask for forgiveness."

Zandik smirked.

"Regrettably, it seems that such an occurrence is unlikely to transpire. Do not expect such words and gifts from me."

You smiled.

"We'll see, we'll see."

Taglist (pls notify if you wish to be on the taglist for the last two): @average-yandere-enjoyer @pix-stuff @sagekun @vennnnn-diagram @dilucragnidvr @tnsophiaonly @lsleepysimpl

[gaoau]

Wrath Spell

Wicked Witch warnings — none. word count — 2.4k

prev. — next.

Sometime during the course of the year, Osamu began wondering which class [Name] belonged to. Always meeting her when she had already been waiting at the music classroom didn't allow him to even try and bump into her half-way. To his surprise, a classmate approached him as the class bustled, birthing and preparing ideas for the upcoming school festival.

He was easy prey, considering he simply sat at his desk, visibly doing absolutely nothing at all. "Hey, Osamu-kun." Part of him insisted he should have remembered this boy's name from, at least, the back of his mind. He barely even remembered Suna's name at this point, so recognizing the poor student's face was enough of an accomplishment. He didn't seem to notice Osamu's internal conflict as he carried on speaking, "Couldja go get the Wicked Witch? We need her for the meeting."

Rumors flew around at the speed of light and word of the Wicked Witch even existing had reached Osamu at some point, but nobody ever mentioned the identity behind the insulting nickname. How on Earth was he supposed to find someone whose name he didn't know?

The student understood the confusion plastered across his face. The chuckle that darted out of his mouth told Osamu this boy didn't know her name either. "Just go up to the unused music room. She's usually there, from what I've heard."

He climbed all the way up to the third floor and to the classroom he himself often frequented with questions in his mind. The dots were very clearly presented to him in his face, yet his brain struggled to connect them. He refused to merely entertain the idea of his beloved crush being ostracized with such a disgusting label. It didn't even fit her—she was a lovely person. He knocked on the closed door once, twice, thrice, more times than he ever needed when calling for [Name]—even if he had already dropped the habit of knocking for her. Silence answered back. He opened the door and peered inside, only to find the room completely empty. Did anyone else apart from [Name] use that clubroom?

Returning to his classroom without success, he rounded the corner as questions upon questions piled up in the back of his head; who the actual fuck was the Wicked Witch and where was she? Any thought he was having vanished into thin air when he caught sight of [Name] resting against the vending machine. A smile painted itself on his lips instantly and he hurried his pace with a skip in his step to reach her faster. She stared up at him with a raised brow and bored eyes, taking a nonchalant sip from the can in her hand.

Stretched legs, slouched shoulders, skipping class; a stark contrast from her perfect form as she directed her band. Osamu appreciated every side of her she showed him without shame.

He crouched by her side, keeping enough distance so he wouldn't find the smallest of intricate details on her face. His heart couldn't take it. "Shouldn't ya be in class?"

"Shouldn't you?"

He laughed quietly to himself. "Fair." And the conversation ended. Osamu never thought straight when close to [Name], almost as if she squeezed the rationality out of him with only her presence. He sucked in a breath to give himself a chance to function properly, then asked, "D'ya know f'anyone uses the clubroom apart from us?" Us. It leapt off his tongue involuntarily, but he meant every syllable—the two of them as a whole.

She hummed in thought, her gaze straying away from him then returning with indifference. "Not that I know of. Why?"

"I'm lookin' for the Wicked Witch."

Osamu had only ever seen two emotions on [Name]'s face: indifference during every single moment of her life, and wrath when viciously barking at his brother. That day, in that hallway, crouched by that vending machine, he had the honor to see yet another one to add to his collection of precious memories. Although he couldn't quite name it, he watched as her eyes slowly grew from their narrowed boredom to a wide shock. "The who?" she whispered out, one sound after the other, missing the breath that had disappeared when his words knocked it away.

"The Wicked Witch," Osamu repeated. "Ya know her? They said she's at the music clubroom, but I couldn't find her."

Surprise morphed into fiery anger, much tamer than the time she confronted Atsumu, but anger nonetheless. She mumbled a seething, "Fucking hell," making Osamu cock a brow in confusion. "Osamu, it's me, I'm the Wicked Witch."

"You?" The dots connected in his mind just as soon as the sentence fled from her mouth, yet not completely for him to fully understand. Someone so lovely, someone people knew nothing about, someone that brought him happiness with a simple glance that wasn't so simple.

"Yeah."

"How?"

"What?"

"Why?"

He could see how his questions took her aback, leaving the cogs in her head to turn endlessly and find a proper response. She'd understood from the voices floating in every last corner of the school that students and teachers alike knew of her as the Wicked Witch. "Um, earlier this year, your nationals, yer brother… remember?" Of course he remembered; he'd been ecstatic the moment he heard her lash out at Atsumu with the same vocal chords she used to sing harmonious melodies. How was it that everyone else failed to see just how wonderful of a person [Name] was? Wicked Witch, mental, crazy, stuck-up, terrible temper. What about talented, spontaneous, reasonable, easy-going?

The smile she'd so effortlessly summoned to his face vanished in a millisecond upon discovering this new knowledge; the identity behind a vile nickname. People shit-talked her behind her back and right to her face without any consideration for the person she actually was. A person whose company was genuinely enjoyable, a person who Osamu was more than willing to chat with out of his own volition. He couldn't deny he was smitten, he couldn't ignore the fact that something about [Name] must have been magical, he couldn't pretend she didn't captivate him with nothing but a few sounds of her voice. But she wasn't a witch—he thought—let alone wicked. He couldn't stand by this.

Frowning brows, vacant gaze, snarling lips; he looked [Name] in the eye and saw her blink in mild surprise. "…Anyway, come, they're lookin' for ya." Osamu practically sprang back onto his feet, whipping around on his heels in the direction of his classroom. She followed after him close behind but in utter silence.

The table falls as silent as the memory Osamu is replaying for everyone to hear. He wears a pleased smirk on his face, peering down at his wife in his arms. She's staring off into a random spot of the venue to pretend she can't feel his eyes burning a hole on her skin. She gives in with a defeated sigh. "It was scary, okay?"

"What was?" Osamu hums mockingly.

"You. You looked ready to murder a man with your hands tied."

"I'm still willin'."

Atsumu raises his hand to move the spotlight onto him—he's spoken an awful lot considering it's not his wedding. "I wanna say he almost murdered me."

"Oh, yeah, that."

On days when anything other than volleyball miraculously occupied Atsumu's last braincell, an echoing quietide engulfed the gym all the way from the court up to the ceiling. If there was something more concerning than a chaotic Atsumu hollering his plans for evil into the wind, then that was a tight-lipped Atsumu pondering with furrowed brows. He sat cross-legged by his teammates, stretching and warming up his muscles in anticipation for an arduous training ahead. His eyes darted back and forth between Osamu and his shoes.

"So," he finally piped up after endless contemplation, "yer friends with the Wicked Witch."

Osamu had never felt his blood pressure rise up at such an astronomical speed; he could almost feel it boiling as it flowed through his veins. "Don't call her that," he mumbled in response. His low volume could've been mistaken by shame of being caught red-handed, even when he simply was keeping himself from committing homicide right then and there.

"Huh? Everyone does. Fits her, crazy bitch," Atsumu cackled loud enough for his laughter to bounce off the walls and back at the two of them.

"Say that again, I dare ya."

"What? Crazy bitch? C'mon, she's mental, ya saw how—" It was the last straw for Osamu, his self-restraint vanishing from his system before his brother could finish insulting the love of his life. His limbs moved on pure instinct, carrying in his muscles the seething rage of a billion suns as he backhanded Atsumu with every one of his four knuckles. His head whipped to the side upon impact, the strike echoed through the gym, and time froze for the spectators.

Suna pulled out his phone like his life depended on it, knowing better than anyone the twins would be at each other's throats in less than three seconds. Atsumu's eyes seemed to glow with fury as he pounced on his brother, fingers wrapping tightly around his neck and knee digging into his gut. They both screamed incoherently while blood spilled from open scratches. Aran walked out of the gym to pretend he hadn't witnessed anything at all.

Ironic how everything and anything in his life brought Osamu back to [Name]. Maybe she wasn't a witch, but she definitely was involved with magic in one way or another, seeing as she always tugged at the strings of his heart to pull him towards her—not that he minded. At the vending machine, he bought two snacks or two drinks. At home, he made an extra of his food. In the hallways, comments of the Wicked Witch reached him faster. Now as punishment for starting a fight with his brother, the authorities sent him to clean the music clubroom again.

He invited himself into the room without knocking, opening and closing the door with his foot as his hands were occupied with cleaning supplies. They exchanged his usual greeting with [Name] while she finished the piece on her cello. Her sound cut itself off when she scanned his bandaged face and the supplies he was holding. Her lips pursed for a second as she held back her laughter, but it soon burst and freely flooded the room with mirthful giggles. Another emotion to add to his collection.

Her laughter quieted down into faint chuckles and a breath of air. She was fixing the cello back into its case as she interrogated him, "Got hit by a truck?"

Osamu puffed a chuckle of his own. "Had a fight with my brother."

The zipper of the case sent shivers down his spine when she rapidly closed it. [Name] switched seats to the piano stool. She scoffed, "I don't get why I yelled at him one time an' suddenly I'm the Wicked Witch." Her fingers instinctively positioned themselves on the low-pitched keys. The chord she played reverberated into his soul. "Ya guys are out for blood on the daily and ain't called, I dunno, dumbass ogres or some shit. Must be 'cause you're hot, so you get a pass."

The way she rambled away so nonchalantly, Osamu almost forgot he shared a face with his brother. She thought he was hot, please, that must have surely meant he had a minimal chance with her. Hot was extremely superficial, but it was something. From feeling as though she hated him because he came from the same womb as Atsumu—not his choice, by the way—to hearing an off-handed compliment, it was progress.

He began cleaning with a newfound vigor, a motivation to sweep and dust and organize every inch of that music room. [Name] remained quiet as she hummed a made-up tune and fiddled with the notes on the piano. Perfect background noise for him to concentrate without losing himself in the distraction of her voice.

But curiosity seemed to get the better of [Name] as she played a simple song. "So," she piped up, and it sounded so much of Atsumu that he wondered whether he'd come to possess her. "What'd you fight over this time?" Osamu debated inside his brain if it was a good idea at all to answer honestly. But when she halted the music and turned to him, calling his name— "Osamu?" —so softly, his tongue came loose.

"You."

"What?"

"We fought over ya," he further explained as if it made any more sense.

"Okay?"

He recalled the conversation he'd had with his brother. "'Tsumu was shit-talkin' ya."

"…Okay?"

"Probably shouldn't've punched him, but it pissed me off." He clicked his tongue completely on instinct. People insulting [Name] got under his skin a lot more than he'd thought.

"…Okay…?"

"I wish he'd just actually meet ya."

Osamu returned to his senses when [Name]'s hum pierced through his ears. He'd blurted out way too much for his own good. "Why's that?" But she didn't seem to mind his forwardness.

"'Cause I know he'd like you, just his ego's still hurt from whatcha said."

[Name] hummed again. She did that quite a lot when pondering over the words she'd answer back with. "I don't think he'd like me."

"I'm sure he would." He didn't back down; he stood by his statement, by his beliefs. "Anyone would if they met ya." Genuinely, from the bottom of his lovesick heart, he knew [Name] to be an enjoyable presence. It wasn't his crush or his enchanted brain speaking, it was all those days spent hanging out together.

[Name] fell completely quiet as soon as she registered his comment. Osamu allowed the conversation to fizzle out after expressing himself, basking in the silence to carry on with the cleaning. Her fingers moved with a mind of their own while her throat clogged up and caved in on itself. Re, mi, fa, re, sharp do, flat ti, mi and la at the same time. D, E, F, D, sharp C, flat B, E and A at the same time. Whichever way she pictured it in her head, it remained as phantasmagorical as the music spoke. A mirage, an illusion; she couldn't believe her ears.

She swallowed the lump in her throat. "Thanks," her voice croaked out, wavering and breaking into senseless soundwaves. Osamu recognized her fragility, but forced himself to keep quiet as she wiped her minuscule tears away.

[usaevents]

Veterans Day 2022: Yes, It Is Important on This Eleven Eleven Eleven

"When I see a Veteran or U.S. Military soldier in uniform, I stop and thank them for their service to our Country. There have been times that the person I have been with has been embarrassed that I did this simple gesture. If we do not teach our youth and those who never served or who have never had family or friends who served what it is like to lose someone to war, or to appreciate the sacrifices made for us, what is the point of being free? I mean, what is the point of our aged, our heroes, our warriors, our loved ones who are fighting for us? Nobody likes war and in fact, it sucks. Nevertheless, war is war. I am grateful we have a day set aside to honor our Veterans." ~ Dr. Gayle Joplin Hall.

thanks you inspirational Veterans Day quotes

I am proud to say that I live in the United States of America. Eleven, eleven, eleven is a special date this year. We will not ever have this date again. Why not spend it honoring Veterans?

I mentioned Veterans Day just last week to someone and they made a statement that knocked the wind out of me. An adult actually said, "Who cares? Name one Veteran you know who has really made a personal sacrifice just for you." I became so angry that I wanted to slap the face of this person, but since I am a woman of wisdom and known as The Happiness Life Coach, I did not feel like "slapping." I felt like being a Professor and lecturing. I lit into her and explained just exactly who was a Veteran in my family. Then I told her that my son-in-law was leaving for Afghanistan in less than five days and that he had already served two tours in Iraq. I told her that my son-in-law was one of my military heroes. I closed my speech to her by stating I would be attending a full military 21-gun salute burial in Arlington in December for a Bataan Death March Survivor and hero. I told this woman she should be ashamed of herself.

Veterans Day is important for so many reasons. The following are five main reasons I find Veterans Day to be worth remembering:

Our soldiers, military women and men, are provided special honors for their hard work and dangerous jobs they do day in and day out.

Veterans are specifically recognized in many towns and cities throughout the U.S. Festivities are provided for the senior Veterans in some areas.

What will you see when you walk outside on Veterans Day in your neighborhood? From my own front patio, I will see a street lined with flags. Old Glory will be flying at 95% of the homes.

I am patriotic because I know that freedom is not free. It comes with a hefty price tag and one that I have never paid, that is for sure. A life--that is what a soldier pays for my freedom. How do I possibly ever repay that back? I can't. The only thing I can do is to say "thank you" every time I see a military dressed soldier.

The older Veterans feel forgotten about. I know this because I have studied human behavior for over 20 years. I have asked the oldest of the groups of surviving Veterans what is the most difficult thing about aging. The response is always the same. I heard from all, "Nobody wants to listen to me anymore." Find a Veteran and listen to what he or she wants to talk about.

Remember the mention of the older Veteran who will be buried in Arlington National Cemetery in December? He was 93 years young. I loved hearing him talk. When Menandro would sit with me, he would talk and talk. One time, I asked him how he became a Scout. He told me that nobody in his family had ever asked him that before. Just hearing that, hurt my heart. This proud Veteran was a walking, talking, history book. I absolutely cherished my time with Menandro. He is greatly missed and will always be loved by me. Menandro is my most beloved Veteran war hero of all times.

Veterans Day Messages

  Someone is buying you a plane ticket to anywhere you would like to live--just play along and dream for a minute. Where would your dream place be for your home? I travel everywhere, but if given the chance to live anywhere in the world, I would still pick the United States of America. God bless America, the land of the free. Happy Veterans Day!

[thedeadthree]

@ lhysa when she st*bs her former beloved for murdering in the fade her FORMER former late beloved….. ✨😌

[delehosies]

forever

benedict bridgerton x fem reader. word count: 2607. reader slightly based off of sophie beckett. in which you are insecure about your place in society due to the ton’s general disapproval and failure to accept you as benedict’s wife. however your husband is always willing to comfort and defend you from anybody who dares to question you. requested.

despite being married to benedict for so many months now, you knew that you weren’t really considered to be a part of the ton – that you would never truly be welcomed into the part of society which your husband was born into. for the most part you had accepted it, yet there was still a small piece of you which longed for acceptance and approval from those who your husband had grown up amongst. 

benedict quite obviously was indifferent to your upbringing, he loved you for you and nothing could change the fact that he viewed people as individuals before he saw how they were labelled. himself and eloise were very similar in that aspect, and you had always felt especially accepted by the two of them. 

not quite understanding the extent of your insecurities, benedict often asked you to attend balls and other events with him – and it’s not like you could say no to your beloved, you wanted to please him and did everything possible in order to. not that he ever asked for too much, only for you to model for his paintings and to read poetry to him before he slept on some nights. neither one of which were particularly a chore, as you have never felt so beautiful as to when benedict painted you. he made you as comfortable as possible and showered you in so many gorgeous compliments. you also shared his love for poetry and prose, and enjoyed reading poetry to him just as much as he loved listening to you read. 

but events were… particularly tricky for you. you knew that judgemental eyes fell on you whenever you entered the ballroom with benedict at your side. no matter how many dances you learned and practised or how many expensive gowns benedict purchased for you, it was never enough to earn their approval – and tonight was no exception. you deliberated over dresses for hours, unsure what fabric, colour and style would be most appropriate for the event. eventually benedict had to pick for you, choosing a soft white silk which complimented you perfectly. he told you that you looked “ravishing” wearing it, and couldn’t quite keep his hands to himself in the hours leading up to the ball. you had to warn him to keep his charcoal stained hands away from your clean white dress. 

you walked with a learned aura of grace through the large doors, your arm linked with benedict’s as he lead you into the ballroom. he sensed your anxieties for the night ahead and gave you his best reassuring smile. “it’s not like we are going to stay for too long, my love. and i’ll be with you for the entirety of the night, nobody will bring harm to you.” you nodded along with his words, despite the fact that you didn’t exactly believe them. you knew that glaring eyes turned to you already and began to internally pray that lady whistledown, whoever she may be, wasn’t here preparing her ammo in order to write about yourself. afterall, your name had been mentioned by her many many times before. daphne told you to accept it as a compliment – it meant that you were truly viewed as part of the ton… apparently. 

similarly to yourself, benedict was not overly keen on socialising with members of the ton – he had told you before how he had always felt as if he were something of an outcast amongst higher society and that himself and eloise considered themselves to be something of an “imposter party”. he gave you permission to join the two of them and you gladly accepted. 

benedict hastily lead you over to the refreshments table in search of a drink, though you and him both know that he would prefer to indulge in something… slightly stronger. he carefully handed you a drink and you thanked him softly for it. “i cannot wait to return home.” you inform him, earning a small laugh in return. 

“i know, but unfortunately we have to show our faces – for my mother’s sake if anything. although i fail to see what the point of us attending is, anthony and kate are allowed to lock themselves away in their bedchamber for days on end ignoring their responsibilities – i don’t see why we cannot do the same!” he declared, your cheeks growing flushed with each word that he spoke.

a giggle escaped you, and you used your spare hand to playfully tap his chest. “benedict!” you laugh, benedict watching you in adoration as your smile lit up your face. it was a relief to hear your laugh, he hated to see you so down and he knew that numerous parties and events were often the cause of your distress, though he struggled to completely understand your insecurities he would always try – and that meant a great deal to you. 

after an hour of painfully awkward conversation with bridgerton family friends and acquaintances, both yourself and benedict were exhausted. he wanted to return home to his sketchbook and his “special” tea and you wanted nothing more but to curl up in bed where you were warm and safe, with your husband by your side even if that meant him staining your white bedclothes and nightgown with charcoal – afterall you were no stranger to hand shaped charcoal prints left over your gowns. 

benedict left you to get someone to prepare your horse and carriage, meaning that you were left to your own devices for far longer than you would have liked – despite him saying that he would return to you quickly as possible. you found yourself shifting uncomfortably, your new shoes beginning to make your feet hurt awfully. he spotted colin on his way back through the ballroom and got involved in a heated but somewhat trivial debate.

a sigh escaped you as you patiently waited for your husband to return, deciding to watch in awe at the other couples who danced so gracefully across the ballroom –  wishing that you could dance like that yourself. you would often dance with benedict in the comfort of your own home, where neither of you felt pressured or judged, and for the most part that was enough for you. 

“y/n bridgerton.” an obnoxious voice came from behind you, making you turn on your heels to see the pale cressida cowper staring at yourself with a mischievous glimmer within her blue eyes. her blonde hair was pulled back tightly and sat atop of her head, magnitudes of colourful ribbons intertwined with her golden locks. she wore a rose gold dress with a chunky and somewhat tacky necklace to match and held her drinking glass rather precariously in between her delicate fingers. 

you bowed your head slightly, forcing a civil smile onto your face as you greeted the somewhat ill mannered lady. “it’s a lovely soiree, don’t you think?” she asked, you decided to nod along politely. before you had the chance to even answer she spoke again. “it’s just a shame they thought it fit to invite so much of the… riff raff.” an arrogant smile pulled her lips upwards, making it obvious just who her petty remark was directed at. 

“oh… i don’t know about that, cressida. everyone here seems rather sophisticated to me.” as the words left your mouth, benedict arrived by your side again – incredibly surprised to see you in conversation with miss cressida cowper of all people. he guessed that it in fact wasn’t your choice to converse with her.

“hm…” her cold eyes seemed to scan judgmentally over the front of your dress, she glanced at benedict and then back to you.  “well looks can be deceiving, can they not?”

your opened your mouth to reply, not being able to hold your anger back for much longer – but as soon as you began to speak cressida brought her hand inches closer to your body and “accidentally” spilled the entire contents of her glass over the front of your pretty silk dress. “oh my! i slipped.” her tone sounded incredibly apologetic, but she couldn’t quite wipe the egotistical smirk from her face. she began to dab at the front of your dress with a handkerchief but you immediately flinched away from her hand, taking a few steps backwards and knocking into benedict’s side in the process. 

“do not touch me.” you finally snapped, your voice raising to a louder volume and drawing attention to the ghastly scene in the process. heads snapped in your direction and as you began to head towards the exit benedict began to speak to her in the most stern voice that you had ever heard leave his lips. she apologised to him profusely, claiming that it was accidental, a stroke of bad luck. 

you only caught a few of his words in your flee – but you definitely heard him ask “how dare you treat my wife with such disrespect?” not hesitating to immediately jump in order to protect and defend his love. 

you ran from the building as fast as you could, your ruined dress and uncomfortable shoes making it impossible to use your usual speed to your advantage. your legs carried you into the grounds of the property, and you soon found salty tears spilling freely over your cheeks as you slumped against a large oak tree. a few seconds after, benedict’s sweet and careful voice filled your ears. “y/n?” you turned to face him, bottom lip quivering as your husband stared down at you with sympathy. 

“oh, my sweet sweet girl.” benedict whispered, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in to a tight embrace despite the sticky beverage which covered the front of your gown. you melted into his familiar body, his warmth and scent bringing you comfort immediately. you cried into his shoulders, tears bleeding through the fabric of his jacket and onto his white shirt. “it’s alright, i’m here.” he hushed you as gently as he could, one of his large hands finding its way down your back to rub soothing circles over the soft silk of your dress. 

the cold outside air nipped at your skin, somehow making you even more emotional. you mentally decided that you hated these events almost as much as you hated the entirety of the ton. “i want to go home, ben. please just take me home.” you begged, your words becoming slightly muffled as you spoke into his shoulder. 

benedict nodded quickly, wishing he had listened to your hints of protest regarding the evening sooner. “somebody is preparing our carriage.” he pulled away from you in order to have a view of your face, though he instantly regretted seeing your eyes so wide and filled with misery, your face damp with salty tears. “i’m sorry, i am so so sorry.” benedict mumbled, tears beginning to well up in his own eyes. he blamed himself, there was no doubt about it, but knew that he had to focus on you. he pulled you back in to be closer, resting his chin atop of your head. “that vile cowper girl needs to be careful, eloise will have quite the temper once she hears about this. she’ll kill her if i haven’t done the job already.” 

a sad and tiny laugh escaped you through your sobs, though they seemed to continue spilling down your soft cheeks. “i just want to go home.” you repeated, more to yourself than to benedict. it took everything in benedict not to march back into the ballroom and rip cressida’s head off – he knew that it would be truly un-gentlemanly of him, but she definitely deserved it for being so wicked to his wife. though he knew this was a naive thought, he wasn’t aware that supposed well bred ladies could be so cruel, that they could behave in such a despicable manner to his sweetheart of a wife. benedict finally understood just why you were so insecure about your social status, he had been blind to it for far too long. 

after a few minutes of benedict softly hushing your sobs, the horses and your carriage were prepared and he was able to lead you away from the gardens and into the carriage – where you stayed tucked up to his warm side with his arm around your waist for the entirety of the journey. benedict apologised profusely, way more times than what you thought was necessary, it wasn’t his fault that cressida was so heartless. 

once the two of you arrived home your tears had stopped for the most part, leaving your eyes looking both slightly swollen and teary. benedict thought that you looked incredibly beautiful nonetheless, he always saw you as beautiful. “let’s get you inside, my sweet.” he spoke softly, a servant helping the both of you out from your carriage. your feet gently hit the floor, and as soon as benedict stepped out next to you his strong arms enveloped you completely, they wrapped around your waist, gently lifting and picking you up before holding you safely in his arms – bridal style.

a squeal left your lips, your arms reaching up to cling onto benedict for support. he laughed loudly, adjusting you in his arms and carrying you towards the house. he carried you into the house and through the foyer, up the stairs and into your shared bedchamber where he carefully placed you onto the bed. giggles still fell from you, you brought your hand up to cover your mouth as benedict kneeled down on the floor in front of you. 

“i think it’s safe to say that we will not be attending any type of soiree anytime soon, don’t you?” benedict made light of the situation as best as he could, you nodded along with his words – as much as you were upset over the situation and were absolutely positive that lady whistledown would speak ever so negatively of you in her next publication, benedict was doing his best to distract and comfort you. 

he takes your hands in his, his large hands making yours look tiny in comparison. “rather bold to assume that we will even be invited after tonight’s events, ben.” you comment, making a little smile form across his lips. 

“good. i don’t want to go anyway, not if that devilish cowper woman will be attending.” you nodded along, not particularly wanting to think of her. benedict noticed the way that your body stiffened at the mention of her, and worked on changing the subject once again. “shall we get you out of that dress then?” you nodded once again, allowing benedict to climb onto the bed beside you and begin to loosen your dress. once the soft fabric had slipped down from covering your shoulders benedict began to press light and gentle kisses to your exposed skin. “you’re. so. beautiful.” he breathed out in between kisses, his lips slowly making their way up your neck.

“i love you so much.” you whisper your words of appreciation to him. you had loved benedict for a long long time, but you had become suddenly aware of the fact that you fell more and more in love with him everyday. each time he laughed or smiled, painted, read you poetry, each time he went to such effort to protect your name and comfort you when others chose to treat you so poorly. hell you fell in love with him more and more each time he breathed – and he felt exactly the same way for you. there was nothing he wouldn’t do for you, nothing at all.

“i love you too, mrs bridgerton. i’ll love you forever.”

[mmushroomwriter]

Demo (twine) ° Ask box ° Cast ° Pinterest ° Graphics ° Glossary ° Polls

When your older brother told you university was going to be wild, this wasn’t what you expected.

In his extensive (and probably highly exaggerated) tales of wild parties, terrifying teachers and mad study sessions the night before exams, he didn’t once mention multiple ancient horrors rising and heralding the apocalypse. How rude.

However, a group of troubled young adults have banded together and just might be able to put a stop to the end of the world.

There’s hope after all!

Well… kind of.

Unfortunately for both you and the world, you happen to know this group - so well that you’re one of them - and there is no one you’d trust less with such a task.

Playlists for the End Times is currently rated 16+ for strong language, alcohol/drug use, and discussion of sensitive topics such as mental illness. A more thorough list will be in the demo.

Customise your protagonist’s name, gender, sexuality and appearance.

Play as a medobestia, an almost extinct specialisation of magic

Go on the so-called ‘best road trip of all time!’ (which may also be the last road trip of all time)

Romance one of six potential love interests (2x female, 2x male, 2x selectable), or don’t. It’s up to you!

Try to put up with your child of an older brother

Explore your relationships with each of your eight quest companions, all with their own baggage

… and befriend some monsters?

Osric ‘Osi’ Jalava

21 ° he/him ° creviso ° RO (Unwilling) student, waiter and (self-proclaimed) tortured artist When Osric volunteered to join the group, everyone thought he was joking - maybe making fun of them. But no, here he is. And no one’s complaining, he supplied the mini-bus after all. With his perpetually messy mop of hair, eyeliner that’s somehow always a couple of nights old, clothes that look like they’ve never touched an iron before (because they haven’t, he doesn’t own one, he ideologically disagrees with them), and the scent of cigarette smoke always lingering on him, you can see why some of professors consider him a lost cause. That doesn’t mean you agree, however, because there’s something more to him. You’re sure of it, there has to be. Nobody signs up for a death mission just because “why the fuck not?”.

Lucius ‘Luci’ Vinter

20 ° he/him ° misamum ° RO Student and resident acoustic-guitar-guy at parties Nobody is quite sure who invited Luci, but he’s here anyway and raring to go. With gorgeous black curls almost down to his shoulders, a smile that could light up a black hole, the bone-structure of a god and more money than most people could visualise, it’s hard not to fall for him - it's the reason he’s so widely beloved around the university. So why is he here, with a group of random outcasts on a doomed mission? And more importantly, why is he so happy about it?

Katia de Sola

21 ° she/her ° morcius ° RO Student, essay-editor, and real-life mad scientist Many years ago, Katia wasn’t your childhood friend, but you were certainly aware of each other. Not much has changed about her since both her and your parents tried to make the two of you into best friends with constant play-dates and dinners. Not her slightly hunched posture that developed from being constantly reading, the way her eyes always jump around as though begging to soak up more information, nor the piercing look she gives when interrupted that can freeze the toughest adbellus to the core. Now here she is, on the precipice of greatness. She’s going to save the world, and nobody can stop her… That’s definitely the only reason she’s here…

Etheline ‘Ettie’ Bohan

19 ° she/her ° gramand ° RO Student, plant-nursery worker and (possible) manic pixie dream girl Ettie arrived out of nowhere on the second day of the second week of classes and she is fascinating. From her obsession with living life to the fullest and insistence on taking every opportunity, to her musical voice and mischievous sparkle in her eye that never quite fades, Etheline Bohan is addictive. How anyone could not want to spend time with her is perplexing, so the fact that she decided to come along is great. To quote her “may as well get a good seat for the apocalypse”.

Tomas ‘Tom’ Mabille/Tamsyn ‘Tas’ Mabille

22 ° he/they or she/they ° gramand ° RO Student, bartender, aspiring journalist and (probable) future sibling-in-law When T’s older sister, Gisela, started dating your brother four years ago, you never expected them to become such a big part in your life. With chin-length floppy red hair, dark eyes that always seem a little bit lost in thought, and a smile that for some reason always looks a little apologetic, T has had your back since the moment you met. They claim that they’re coming on the trip to write it all up in an exclusive story that’ll for sure shoot them to the top, but you can’t help but notice the uncertainty in their voice as they say it.

Cassandra/Cassius/Cass ‘Cass’ Phillips

20 ° she/her or he/him or they/them ° adbellus ° RO Student, librarian, and owner of a mysterious backstory™ Your actual childhood best friend, Cass used to be the life of the party. Always happy and sociable, as a kid, you don’t think anyone could’ve disliked them. But then they moved away at thirteen, returning seven years later. Now instead of mischievous, their face always looks melancholy. Instead of chattering non-stop, constantly (and good-naturedly) teasing everyone, they rarely speak. And instead of their bright eyes that always exuded such zest and excitement for life, their eyes are sad and tired. Something obviously happened while they were gone, but they refuse to even admit to it. Maybe this trip will get them to open up. After all, what’s a better time to confide in someone than the end of the world?

Miles

27 ° he/him ° misamum Teaching assistant, older brother and village idiot Hey, did you really think your older brother would let you go on a perilous world-saving quest without him? Being seven years older than you, Miles has always been very protective, and this is no different. With a face that seems to be perpetually stuck at age fifteen, a tall and lanky body that he doesn’t seem to have full control over, a constant look of disarray, and a complete lack of common sense or basic self-preservation, it often surprises people that Miles was valedictorian of his class, and is now in training to be a professor himself. But it doesn’t surprise you, not in the slightest. He may be a mess in most (if not all) aspects of his life, but your brother is probably the best person you’ve ever met. Now hopefully he just doesn’t accidentally fuck up your quest. That’d be bad… and unfortunately, very in character.

Gisela Mabille

24 ° she/her ° saconda Doctor-in-training, older brother’s girlfriend and potential Disney princess When Gisela and Miles started dating, you didn’t expect her to become such a permanent fixture in your life. Her doe eyes, button nose, somehow permanent dusting of blush and rose-tinted hair make her look like some sort of ethereal princess and her personality only adds to it. And you have to admit, having a healer on board can’t be a bad thing. Still, with both Gisela and Miles along, you can't help but start to feel like a child being chaperoned.

[husbandohunter]

Moments of Despair #1 [Genshin Impact/Diluc x Reader]

Synopsis: “The man who was on fire and realized it too late.”

(A series of works where the boys deal with the passing of their beloved).

Albedo's despair

Warnings: angst, tragedy, major character death, graphic depictions of violence perhaps

(A/n): Had these ideas for a while after reading @/serensama To Mourn series of another fandom. So much sorrow and feeling I just was inspired to write 😫

_______________________________________________

The moment you fell lifeless in Diluc's arms, he wanted to disappear.

It was raining again, he had always despised the rain. How it trickles down the slope of your cheek, like tears falling from the heavens. The sight of it mixing with your blood creating a thin stream of red rivers flowing beside him. They patter down obnoxiously because time didn't care, the gods don't care, the world didn't care. You were just a small fragile person to their eyes but to him you were his light. A candle that used to shine in his dark world was now dissipitated by the waters of reality.

Many droplets have passed and he was still holding you. Diluc could do nothing but stare. He hadn't shed any tears nor could he make a coherent sound. Perhaps it was because his tears have long run out when his father was held in the very same way. Or it was because he was heartless. He's usually told for being cold and indifferent. But the pain clenching in his chest was proof that he still had one (proof that it was still beating), much to his dismay. It would be better if he didn't.

So why can't he just look away? Your wounds, your bruised features, everything now etched so deep into the back of his conciousness that is was starting to awaken his worst nightmares. They were the source of the bile growing in his stomach. The irony stench filling up his nostrils felt so sickening. He couldn't turn away. You're dead. You're dead. You're dead. As if reality had yet to register, or maybe he refused to accept it, Diluc helplessly gazed down your body with blank and empty eyes.

"Master Diluc..."

Jean's voice called out to him pitifully. He rises up with his back turned, ignoring the stares given to him, "Leave. The knights of favonius are not needed here."

"But she's a Mondstadt citizen," The anemo user retorts, slightly taken aback by his impassive reaction, "It's my responsibility to ensure this case doesn't go unnoticed."

Unnoticed. Diluc scoffs in his mind, what a tasteless joke.

"It seems you weren't listening," he announces as his head was turned ajar so they could see the deep hatred glowing red in his eyes, "Leave. Now."

Jean's lips trembled before barely being able to say, "Alright" and retreating her knights back to the city. Kaeya narrows his gaze at his bother, the sorrow was evident through his pupils. He steps forward until he was arms length away from his brother. Too little too late, another failure was added to the belt.

Kaeya was a man of many words but for once he was at loss of what to say. No underhanded suggestions, no ideas taunting him to spill his thoughts, he simply asks Diluc, "What are you planning to do now?"

Silence. Kaeya couldn't predict what sort of expression his brother was making as he looks at your corpse. It brought a heavy weight of unsettlement upon him and here he thought he had already grown used to his brother's quietness.

Slowly, he turns around while letting the water pour down his face. Kaeya tightens his jaw as Diluc drags his feet towards him, stopping when their shoulders were parallel, "It's none of your concern."

"You're just going to leave her here?"

There was a slight pause which was enough of an answer. The Cavalry Captain sighs when he watched him walk away, what was the point of asking when Kaeya knew Diluc so well? He glances at your form before swiftly shutting his eyes.

It was his concern.

-------

A week later, the staff of the Ragnvindr household could hardly recognize their Master's appearance. They knew not to bother him when he decides to lock himself in his chambers. Diluc drowns himself with work from hours to no end as he connects the findings of the person that took your life. As expected, it was one of his enemies- a fatui member. The question was, which one?

"Master Diluc, I beg of you, please take care of yourself," Elzer pleads.

The pyro user didn't bother to spare him a glance or look at the tray of food he carried.

Food...you always brought them whenever he had to work overtime.

"I do not remember specifiying anyone to be allowed in my office," he voices aloud, "If it's related to business affairs simply leave that with Adelinde and I'll take a look at it tomorrow."

"I understand. But you've been working all day and night yet refusing to take any breaks in between. At this rate, you'll harm your health."

The feather pen in his grip kept dragging it's course, "This is beyond the duties assigned to you Elzer."

"That's because it was a request sent by your father," he adds, knowing that stepping over his boundaries may cost him, "If Master Crepus was still here, I'm sure he would have said the same thing."

Taking a deep breath, Elzer lays out his last card, "And also your wife."

The pen slows into a halt.

No one had brought you up until now. Elzer anxiously watches his Master shifting in his seat, his red bangs covering half of his face but he could still see the frown pressing firmly on his lips. It wouldn't be a surprise if Diluc suddenly bursted at him for mentioning such a sensitive topic, all that matters was his master's well being and Elzer was willing to risk everything for it. But nothing. Diluc turns his attention ever so slightly at the tray he carried.

"Fine, but I'm not eating that."

"What? Wasn't this was her favourite-"

"Do I need to repeat myself?"

Elzer furrows his brows before sighing, "...No, Master Diluc."

He exits the room while carrying the fresh dish of Once Upon A Mondstadt that you loved so much. The door closes with a soft click and he was alone again.

People found it strange how Diluc seemed so vacant to your passing. He didn't even show up at your funeral. Instead, he continues his duties as a Mondstadt nobleman like usual while taking care of business matters associated with the winery. Except those who were close to him could see the difference in his actions. Apathy, he was so mechanical in every task he did. Like a marionette attatched on strings, a doll without a soul. After all, his soul died the moment when yours did too. What remains was a shadow of Diluc and a being existing solely for revenge and duty. He was nothing but a remnant.

Fatigue begins to wash over him and he fights to stay awake. Because once he gives in it will all be over. Once he closes his eyes, he would see your face with a multitude of images from the past. He would hear your voice calling out his name from a distant space as it echoes off the walls of his mind. He would fall into a dream where you were still with him and as always, waking up to see that it was never real.

I should have pushed you away.

Because what hurt Diluc the most wasn't that you were gone, rather, it was how you were still here.

Then you'd still be-

Something breaks and it turned out to be the pen he was holding so tightly. Only now Diluc realized how fast his heart was thrumming as beads of sweat began rolling down his forehead. Focus. Don't waste time. He won't grant himself the liberty of anything when your murderer was still on the run. Every wound they inflicted on you was going to be returned in tenfold. He'll make sure of it. That's why, he refuses to think about you at all. Diluc occupies his mind with other matters since at this point, work was the only efficient method of keeping his sanity in tact.

She needs you to focus.

The door opens and Kaeya enters the room while holding a document, "We found the guy."

His reaction was immediate, "Where?"

"Hm, now that we meet, it's actually quite debateable," The captain notes wryly, "When was the last time you've gotten proper rest?"

"I don't have time for this, either you tell me or I'll do it by force."

Kaeya couldn't help but sigh, "Apologies but you don't seem to be in any state for a fight. I'm sure you know how it would end up if you were to face your enemy right now."

"..."

"Diluc, this isn't healthy," Kaeya asserts, it's been a while since he sounded so sincere, "I'm not here to prevent you from doing what's necessary however, perhaps it would be better if I finished it in your stead."

"No," Diluc stubbornly answers, "Hand that over."

"...Heh, then there's really nothing I can do to stop you it seems," he whispers with a sad smile, "At the very least, be careful."

"I intend to," The pyro user snatches the paper parchment out of Kaeya's hands before opening the window, "Also, if Elzer returns, tell him there's a few errands I have to take care of."

The night was a full moon and the sky was empty, Diluc leaps off the edge and disappears into the darkness. There was no telling of what could happen next. Since you weren't here, it was up to Kaeya to watch over him.

-------

The claymore dropped to the ground with a clang as it soaks up the blood of the fatui he just killed.

Diluc was tired, so tired.

He slumps down against the wall from pure exhaustion, all that adrenaline and hatred went up in fumes, leaving behind whatever was left in his heart: nothing. Two hours, not even that far from Mondstadt, the fatui hid in an abandoned building as he cowarded for his life. When Diluc arrived, he never expected this monster to be so weak. This was the person who murdered you? A pathetic nobody that was simply following orders? This was the reason why he lost you forever?

In the end, the only one to blame was himself, for being weak and unable to protect you. He was supposed to be your hero ("Darknight hero," you'd always tease), the rock that shields you just as you had been the warmth he longed for many years, did he give you enough? Was this enough? He thought avenging your death would grant him a peace of mind and the justice you deserved but deep down, he knew it will never be enough when it comes to his love for you.

"Diluc."

He closes his eyes, he hears your voice. He was so tired, it wouldn't be a surprise if he started hallucinating.

"Diluc."

"I'm sorry..."

The man lets out a trembled breath as he apologized to the image of you in his mind. I'm sorry I failed you. They were repeated like a mantra in hopes to reach you somehow. Of course that was impossible, his feelings, his emotions, love and sorrow altogether will never reach you again. And your arms that once comforted him and brushed his hair with a soothing voice, saying everything will be okay, where are they now?

"Diluc."

"Stop," he didn't want to hear your voice.

"Diluc, I'm here."

"Stop..."

"Diluc..."

He jolts his eyes open and lets out a yell, what was he saying? He doesn't know. All he needed now was to drown out the fake voices mocking in his head. Diluc grabs the nearest object and shatters it against the floor, the dam was broken and it flooded uncontrollably, breaking everything in it's way. The abandoned house was filled with loud cries of a man sobbing with agony like a broken-hearted child. He crumbles to his knees and falls to his side, lifting his forearms while clutching his face.

And screamed.

Archons, what did he do to deserve this? Why do the people he cherish get taken away from him? Diluc never wanted to be the Darknight hero if it meant having his father perish in his arms. He didn't want the feeling of stabs against his chest with every breath he took. He didn't want to feel cold while knowing it was because you weren't here to hold him. He didn't want your voice, your pictures or your memory.

He wanted you.

"(Y/n)..." he chokes. Rolling to his back, Diluc moves his arms to cover his eyes, letting the tears run down to his ears, "(Y/n)..."

For who knows how long, he lays there in the abandoned building and mourns. Diluc doesn't have the strength to move from his position, he found himself staring mindlessly through the cracks of the roof when his voice had gone hoarse. The corners of his eyes still burned and his head was throbbing with so much pain. Maybe he should just stay here but the thought of being in the same room as your murderer was unfathomable.

Picking up his claymore once again, Diluc drags himself out of the door. Where would he go? It's not like he had a home to return to because home was when he was with you. A doll without a soul, the marionette moves as if the strings have commanded him to do so. Where ever it takes him, he didn't care. He just knew he had to go.

[actualbird]

Oh god!

I really love the poly headcanons they are so sweet.... (or don't but that's part of it and i think the tot boys+MC deserve all the love the world has to give).

But, liking it or not, our 4 beloved boys are kinda complicated (that's what makes them perfect). Plus I never thought about how people get in poly relationships. So i was thinking, how do you think they all get into a polyrelationship together?

(I really have no idea of how that would happen)

hi, two anons!! im glad you guys liked my nxx team polycule stuff!! i'll answer these in one go, my "headcanon" (in quotes because i think this kinda turned into a character analysis/minific of sorts HAHA) being what first anon asked, How They Get Together.

heads up, wc of this is 1.9k words long so buckle up for a bit of a read jfsjdfkjbf

because first anon, youre right!!! the boys are stupendously complicated which i love so so much but canon has also shown us clearly that each of the boys' quirks and habits and tendencies causes a lot of (mostly played for laughs) friction. the bickering, the backhanded insults, the "im the best one here" preening contests. theyre all SOOOO RIDICULOUS and it is hilarious but yep! the boys r complex!! and that means this beautiful ship, imo, has a lot of phases to get to the actual romantic relationship bit.

how they get together, in my opinion, starts because of mc.

not in the sense that she matchmakes them all, but like.

phase 1 of the nxx team polycule is this:

through being in love with her (which we all know the boys 100% are), each of the boys come to terms with their own flaws and weaknesses. it's very apparent to me in all the story thus far that these boys are flawed as hell, it's very compelling but even more compelling to me is how all of them also do intense mental gymnastics to Not Confront Those Flaws. like, marius is a dickbag always teasing and toeing the line of insincerity, vyn is a controlling mf who always tries to sway situations to his benefit, artem is so repressed to the point that he has genuine trouble with emotions, luke is a self sacrificial bastard and also a huge hypocrite about how no, actually, hes the only one that should be hiding his pain and being dishonest, no dishonesty from other people!! in the beginning of the story, all the boys have their flaws and seem to have just kinda...not addressed how those flaws are harming them and the people around them.

and then mc rolls around and they all fall in love with her. and she sees those flaws and she doesnt let them slide. she challenges the boys in her own ways to see another side of the situation, to acknowledge what theyre doing. she doesnt want to get rid of flaws, thats impossible and also not cool. she just has this beautiful hope for like, all of humanity, that goodness can prevail with the right work. so when she sees her beloved nxx boys, she believes that for them as well.

which leads to phase 2 of the nxx team polycule:

the boys, more aware of themselves, become more aware of each other.

they werent Unaware of the others of course. it's just that they didnt like...truly connect on a personal level just yet. they saw the other teammembers with their emotional armor and flaws and saw a wall that wasnt worth looking past.

but after mc makes them realize that hey, flaws arent the end of the world actually, it's alright and the person behind them may just be worth it, the boys like. end up understanding the others. A LOT OF THIS BIT IS UNINTENTIONAL, ON THEIR PARTS KJDSBFS. like they stumble into understanding each other by accident, they didnt plan it, but over the course of nxx investigations, it's inevitable that they end up seeing the depths of the others. i delve into this a little bit in my fanfic "filler eps of the lost gold" where the boys are just going thru their actions and then trip over another boy's fears or desires and through that, gain a deeper understanding mutually.

and with understanding, sometimes, comes trust.

phase 3 of the nxx team polycule goes like this:

everybody in this team, whether they like it or not, whether they know it or not, has a heart that wants to give love so desperately.

marius lives in a world full of snakes so he cant have his heart on his sleeve for his own protection. vyn wants to be seen as perfect and the heart is inherently messy so he holds it back. artem for a very very long time was focused on work and success and achievement that he neglected his heart. and luke has been giving love all his life in a sense but in a way thats hidden.

all these tendencies that are brought upon their life circumstances results in this: they want to love honestly but they havent been able to do this

until mc. and all of them want to push back whatever fears or patterns their life has instilled in them because they see her and see somebody so unwaveringly good that all their hearts begin giving love to her to make her happy and to make themselves happy as well.

but heres the thing. the boys dont just see mc. by this point, they have connected and understood and come to trust each other as well, and the consequence of that is that They Can See Each Other Now Too, Truly.

and heres the thing. all of the boys are unwaveringly good as well.

one by one, each of the boys realize that what they feel for the other boys in the team starts to...change. yeah theyre all friends, they pick on each other a lot of the time, but the bedrock of the relationship is solid and strong now. but when marius is with luke, marius sees a light inside of luke so bright that he seems unaware that he gives off. when artem is with vyn, artem sees a goodness inside of vyn that hesitates to make itself obvious and known because vyn is scared of getting hurt thanks to it. all of them see the other and their goodness and, unbidden, their hearts want to give love to each other as well.

and because theyre all a bit stupid in their own way theyre like, huh, weird! wonder why this feeling is so familiar! and yet i cant seem to name it...and then they all independently compare these feeling with the feelings they have for mc, a feeling they do know the name of, and theyre like.

WAIT.

THESE FEELINGS ARE...VERY BASICALLY EXACTLY WHAT I FEEL FOR MC.

which only means one thing: theyve fallen in love with everybody else

marius: //goes to his studio to Think and sees that a bunch of his recent art actually had little crumbs of these feelings already, etched into the brushstrokes and scenes. has an emotional crisis about it

vyn: //records a 1 hour long entry in his audio diary to examine and gain control of his feelings but by the end of the hour all he knows is that he wants to hold these people and be held by them

artem: //quite literally just bluescreens, artem.exe has stopped working, sits at his study and slowly, slowly, thunks his head down onto his desk, valiantly trying to ignore the fast pulse of his heart

luke: //manically vents about it to peanut who, by virtue of being a bird, doesnt get it. just keeps talking at peanut to get a grasp of it all and then lies down on the floor, overwhelmed

mc, sitting in her apartment watching some netflix: ...why do i inexplicably feel as if something very, very important has just happened?

phase 4 of the nxx team polycule is basically:

pining: extreme difficulty level

because pining is already hard when ur pining for one person. what more for an additional 3 more people. and those additional 3 more people are pining back.

and all these boys are SOOOO OBVIOUS with their romantic feelings, in their own special way. the way they show their affection to mc starts to bleed into their interactions with the others and everybody can CLEARLY SEE WHAT IS GOING ON, LOL, but also all the boys are too chickenshit to confront it, because if they confront it, what will even happen??? being in love with each other, all of them, thats going to be such a complicated fucking relationship, holy shit. it's 2030, yeah, being a polyamorous group relationship isnt completely unheard of, but sue them, theyre scared.

but mc (who i forgot to mention already knows of the boys' romantic feelings for her, shes just hasnt made a move yet on any of them because SHES IN LOVE WITH ALL OF THEM AS WELL and shes been trying to figure out how the hell to make that work, she cant bear to choose just one of them, she'd be heartbroken over leaving the rest of them behind) sees that the nxx investigation team is now all pining for each other FULLY and she kinda wants to laugh when she realizes whats going on because like, what are the chances? that this would happen? that they all found each other and their feelings fell into just the right place for nobody to be left behind?

theyre all scared, she can tell. and she is as well, she wont lie.

but shes always had a belief that goodness can prevail with the right work.

and love is one of the greatest goods out there.

phase 5 of the nxx team polycule:

It's Time For Communication, Baby!!!!!

the exact scenes of how this happens is a bit vague to me. it could go two ways: mc going to each of the boys independently to talk about feelings, hers about everybodys and his about everybodys as well. OR they have a fucking meeting about it all together and artem literally schedules it in his google calendar, or something.

either way, they like, actually talk about this. starts casual, maybe over a chill date, maybe over dinner at a nice restaurant, maybe over a walk in the park as the sun is starting to set. but where ever it happens, the end result is the same: a heart is laid out bare and it is taken in gentle, grateful hands.

marius: OKAY, NOW THAT THE FEELINGS ARE OUT OF THE WAY, CAN I PLEASE KISS ONE OR ALL OF YOU, PLEASE, IVE BEEN WANTING TO KISS U GUYS FOR FOREVER

vyn, laughing fondly: has anybody ever told you patience is a virtue? we quite literally just talked it all out.

marius: //needy whining noises

artem, embarrassed: ive...never kissed anybody before

luke, embarrassed but trying to play it Cool: ....same here

mc: kissing is great, you two will love it!

marius: awesome, awesome, so is ANYBODY going to give me a go ahead or WHAT????

phase 6 of the nxx team polycule:

i dont want to say it's happily ever after, once they all get together. thats not really realistic.

they all have their quirks and tendencies and habits. and those will inevitable clash against each other. theyll have their arguments, theyll get upset, theyll sulk and be angry, sometimes. but also...

theyll see each other smile and feel like their love shining so brightly. theyll reach out for another's hand and be held in such a way that makes them think that their heart is in a safe place. theyll love each other and theyll put in the work to continue loving each other. because goodness will prevail.

and they all see each other as the most good people in the world.

so whatever happens, theyll get through it together.

[lady-knight-]

St Jude

Warning, I relay  a personal story. If you're annoyed or triggered by personal sob stories, not a believer, and not a catholic, you can stop here as you won't  necessarily like it. But if you do: keep on reading, this is important.

  Six months ago, I spotted in the drawer of my night table at my parents’s a letter I kept for reasons I don't even remembered and from years ago. It was a donation ask in favor of Mother's Theresa charity foundation. What caught my attention was the text of a prayer to saint Jude. He was presented as the patron saint of desperate causes and the prayer translated like this:

  "Oh glorious apostle St. Jude, faithful servant and friend of Jesus, the name of the traitor who delivered thy beloved Master into the hands of His enemies has caused thee to be forgotten by many, but the Church honors and invokes thee universally as the patron of hopeless cases--of things despaired of. Pray for me who am so miserable; make use, I implore thee, of that particular privilege accorded thee of bringing visible and speedy help where help is almost despaired of. Come to my assistance in this great need, that I may receive the consolations and succor of heaven in all my necessities, tribulations and sufferings, particularly (mention your request), and that I may bless God with thee and all the elect throughout eternity. I promise thee, O blessed St. Jude, to be ever mindful of this great favor, and I will never cease to honor thee as my special and powerful patron, and to do all in my power to encourage devotion to thee. Amen"

I was surprised, to me, the patron saint of desperate causes was Saint Rita. But prior to her  birth, Jude used to be this.  Killed with a club, he was one of the Christ’s cousins. I've then learned he was a victim of his name, too close of "Judas", and fell in obscurity. That's why he's named Thaddeus instead, sometimes.

  Being in dire straits for two years now, the novena caught my attention, and I have started to experience attraction law since three years. So I did not believed it was a coincidence and stated the novena in in October. My present problems come from the fact I don't have any money and it would solve most of them, so I asked for it. In November, I've also learned that Thérèse of Lisieux's relic would come temporary in local churches. I loved to read her story as a kid, and from time to time since she popped up in sometimes surprising circumstances. 

Like this small scapular I received with her photo on, or, when I went on World youth day in Roma. Back from it, my bus meet another bus burnt carcass in a parking. 

It carried others french pilgrims, it caught fire at night, and luckily nobody was hurt. But their stuff burnt to ashes, except perhaps... Someone found a carton folder remains in the fragments, and between two blacken hymn sheets..."Hey look, little Thérèse did not burn!" , showing us her not even blackened  photo.

But it was only at the beginning of last year, caught in a hypochondriac panic (not easy, the pandemic) that I thought back she would give "roses" (gifts) to the living ones. Signs started to pop up. I asked her too better financial days, and since, she pop up constantly, people brought her spontaneously in conversations, I notice her biography or poster in the shop of the abbey where we hear mass with my family, or...On Christmas day, I've noticed in said shop key chains I never saw before. It represented roses and I supposed there was a Virgin Mary engraving or something behind it but no, just roses.

 It was then two months and a half since my novena. To me "visible and speedy help" shall happen within three months. On Christmas day, my parents told us about a sold in their real estate society, and I knew that. What I did not suspect was the my sisters and me would be granted a part of the prize.

  It's roughly the same than my three years savings I've lost in my moving out and fuel oil purchase. And a third of what I wrote on my Secret check from Universe. In addition, my disabled allowance was just renewed for five years instead of just two.  So it works, and now Jude deserve recognition (and Thérèse if you never heard of her). If you are desperate, try the novena, and, to encourage devotion,  explain everyone the difference between Judas and Jude-Thaddeus. Thanks and blessings!

[animeomegas]

Omega!Naruto getting married

Anon: Omg omg bro I just saw the amazing and wonderful art of naruto in a white dress and it just got me thinking. Could you do naruto and his alpha getting married pllleeeaaassssee🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺I also wanna show you the picture soo badd he's so beautifullllllll

(Omg tag me in this 🥺I want to see!!! Naruto is so so beautiful you’re absolutely right and I love him and this was so far down my writing list but I just really wanted to write it anyway. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. <3)

I wrote for a Western wedding because I have no idea how Japanese weddings work (although I’m taking a degree in Japanese rip)

Warnings: Alcohol mention.

This boy will never admit it, but he always dreamt of getting married when he was a child.

When he was really young, he asked the Sandaime why people get married and the Hokage told him that marriage is what two people did when they loved each other more than anyone else.

Naruto always wanted someone to love him and so he clung to this in a similar (but less extreme) way, to how he clung to his dream of becoming Hokage. 

He always imagined his future self as the most badass ninja/Hokage with  a beautiful mate/spouse and some little prankster pups who would love him and who he would love unconditionally in return. 

And so when his alpha finally proposes to him.

This man goes a bit crazy.

As soon as the shock wears off, you suddenly get bombarded with him shouting about a thousand different things he wants at the wedding, and what food there should be, and “Do you think they sell orange wedding cakes?”.

He wants an insanely big and extravagant wedding.

It’s probably best to just humour him.

Proposal:

You were already mated to Naruto when you proposed.

Naruto lowkey believes in soulmates and when you had been courting for about a year he knew you were his. 

His very next heat came around, and boom, you were mated. 

You proposed about a year and a half after that, spurred on by Naruto’s less than subtle hints about it.

Naruto loved being around his friends and he also loved positive attention, so the idea for your proposal came naturally. 

You threw a get together for him and his closest friends. Good food, plenty of drinks and board games.

Naruto was laughing and smiling all night. He teamed up with you for the games, sitting on your lap the entire time. 

He used this vantage point to demand congratulatory and commiserative  kisses everytime something happened in the game. You could feel him smiling into the kiss each time.

The plan was working perfectly so far. 

As the evening began to wind down, you stood up, immediately garnering the attention of everyone in the room.

You cleared your throat awkwardly as all the eyes in the room settled on you. Sakura gave you a thumbs up behind Naruto’s shoulder.

‘You got this!’ She mouthed, eyes twinkling with excitement. With her encouragement in mind, you took one final deep breath before beginning.

“Sorry to interrupt you all, but there’s one more thing I have to do before everyone goes home.” You started, successfully avoiding any unfortunate stutters or out of control nervous scents.

Naruto furrowed his brows at you, confused. You only smiled, silently telling him to wait. 

“I have an... announcement of sorts to make.” 

“Then get on with it.” Drawled Shikamaru, smirking at you from the corner. You glared at him for teasing you, but he was too busy dodging a ‘shut up’ punch from Sakura to notice.

“As you all know, I’ve had the honour of being mated for Naruto for almost two years now,” You focused your gaze onto your mate, watching him perk up at the mention of his name. “and I have been madly in love for every minute of it.” You paused thoughtfully. “Even the minute when he drank out of date milk and threw up all over my bed.” 

Naruto went red as his friends giggled at him. He let out an embarrassed whine as you joined in the laughter. 

“You didn’t have to tell them that!” He groaned, voice muffled from the cushion he had temporarily buried his face in. 

“What I’m trying to say, is that when I met Naruto my life changed forever, for the better. I can no longer fathom a life where I could live without him.”

You turned to address Naruto directly. He was watching you closely. Maybe he was starting to guess where this was going.

“When I wake up next to you, when we invent terrible ramen flavours together, when I bandage you after training because you tried to show off and hurt yourself,” You laughed breathily. “Those are the moments when I am the happiest. The common denominator is you, Naruto, my beloved mate.”

No one else in the room mattered now apart from you and Naruto. You took one final breath to steel yourself, before dropping on one knee. Naruto gasped, his hands coming up to cover his mouth. 

“Which is why I want to be with you for the rest of our lives.” You pulled the ring box out of your pocket, opening it to reveal a simple golden band. 

“Will you marry me, Naruto?”

Naruto nodded furiously, his bottom lip wobbling as his eyes filled up with tears.

“YES! YES! YES! A thousand times yes!!” 

Naruto threw himself into your arms as his friends applauded and whooped in the background. You caught him with a happy laugh, leaning to kiss him. Naruto reciprocated enthusiastically, earning a few wolf whistles from his friends.

Naruto’s scent was that of pure sugar and you revelled in it, certain that your own was the same. Eventually you pulled away from the kiss, wiping a tear from Naruto’s eye, cradling his face gently in your hands.

“A toast,” Chouji’s voice called out, interrupting your thoughts. “To the newly engaged couple!” 

All your friends cheered, raising their glasses in a toast to your engagement. 

“May their love last forever!”

You laughed gleefully. Forever indeed.

Planning:

Naruto has a lot of ideas and a lot of passion, but not so much in the planning skills department. 

I hate to say it, but Naruto is a little bit of a Bridezilla type. A cute one though, so that’s better?

He really really wants a lot of random specific stuff that he dreamt about as a child, but he’s not good at organising it so you get a lot of:

“Alphaaaaa, can you book [insert incredibly specific wedding thing]?”

“Alpha, alpha, alpha, can you find a [insert incredibly specific wedding thing] for me, please???”

Here is a list of some, not all, of the things Naruto wants for his wedding. Bolded are ‘no compromises allowed’.

A traditional, white wedding dress (He knows he can wear whatever he wants, but his life has only ever been atypical and he just really wants a traditional white male omega wedding dress.)

An orange wedding cake (Naruto wants an orange wedding cake, but he can be persuaded to settle for orange detailing instead of the solid orange monstrosity he originally wants.)

A ramen course ( he wants one of the courses to be ramen of course! The idea of a really expensive, fancy ramen course just makes him melt with excitement. Nobody is surprised when they see ramen on the menu.)

A big wedding (He will invite the whole village if you allow him to. Ultimately though, as long as there’s room for every friend he’s ever had, he’s happy.)

Double barrelling your surnames (He really wants to take your name. Now that you’re married and mated, you’re a team for life and he wants that reflected in your names, but he also spent most of his life without family, and his name is one of the only connections he has to his mother. As such, he would never be able to lose it completely.)

A stag do/bachelor party (He just thinks it would be fun to get together with his other omega friends. He wants to hang out with his friends and wedding party for a night without anyone being away on missions for once.)

A honeymoon in Konoha (Naruto doesn’t want to travel for his honeymoon. Konoha is his home and his favourite place to be, so he wants to be there. If you desperately want to travel, you could probably organise a half-and-half style honeymoon. Half in Konoha, half wherever you want.)

Two empty chairs for his parents during the service (He has lost so many people, he could never leave empty chairs for them all. He keeps everyone he’s lost in his mind on his wedding day, but his parents are the ones he misses the most on his special day. When he looks at the empty chairs, he likes to think that they would be proud watching him get married.

The Wedding:

Naruto is fully bouncing off the walls.

He’s so excited. And nervous. But excited.

He gets ready and when he gazes at himself in the mirror, he feels amazing. As a child, he always thought he would cover his whiskers with make up, thinking they were on of the reasons people treated him differently. But now, as he stares at his reflection, he wears his whisker marks proudly.

Everyone pitched in to make the wedding perfect. Ino with the flowers, Chouji with the food, etc.

The wedding was kind of a bizarre mix. Some parts were strictly traditional and other parts were... orange. 

Naruto had plenty of fireworks set up to go off in the evening, and this ended up being one of his favourite parts of the day.

Naruto asked Iruka to walk him down the aisle about a month befpre the wedding. Iruka 100% cried when that happened. And then Naruto cried because Iruka was crying, it was an adorable mess. 

You got married outside. The sun was so bright, and the weather was warm but with a slight breeze. 

Naruto and Iruka wait just out of everyone’s view. When they send the signal, everybody stands.

You watched in awe as your mate turned the corner, grasping tightly at Iruka sensei’s arm.

He was stunning.

The sunlight reflected off his blond hair like light off of water, his white dress adding to the blinding effect. Naruto had refused to tell you what he would be wearing today, but this was more beautiful than you could have ever imagined. 

As he reached the end of the aisle, your mate gave up on being graceful, running the last few steps and throwing himself into your embrace. You caught him easily, twirling him around. Laughter rang through the hall.

“You look stunning.” You whispered in his ear, gently stroking up and down his arms.

“So do you.” He grinned in return.

The ceremony flew by. You had tried your hardest to listen, but you couldn’t stop staring at your mate instead. His eyes were always one of your favourite of his physical features, but they had looked especially magical today. 

Before you knew it, it was time for your first dance.

You hadn’t planned anything and you certainly didn’t take any lessons, so it was just you and him, in each others’ arms, swaying together to the music. 

Naruto felt warm in your arms as you swayed. You took a moment to nuzzle your face into his scent glands, pressing a firm kiss to his mating mark while you were there. Naruto hummed in delight, holding onto you even tighter.

“My omega. My mate. My husband.” You breathed into his ear, knowing how much he loved his new title.

Naruto shivered and purred in response. “I love the sound of that, you know.”

“I’m aware.” You laughed, using the distraction to twirl him. Naruto completed his twirl before trying to twirl you as well. 

Other couples soon began to join you on the dance floor, but you and Naruto only had eyes for each other. 

“I love you, more than anything else in this world Naruto, never forget that.”

“I love you, too. Forever, I promise.”

“Do you love me more than ramen?”

“What? Can’t you just be happy with second place?”

“Narutoooo.”

“Fine... Joint first.”

“I hate you.”

Naruto barked out a laugh at the look on your face.

“No, you don’t.”

[x-infernhoes-x]

Evermore- Maliksi x Reader

Title: Evermore

Genre: : )

Warnings:  Not much but I’ll leave it to you guys lmao. Implied Relationship as well so ye.

Word Count: 1, 690 k +

Description: I don’t know WHY I get ideas for fanfics at ungodly hours of the night like I’m supposed to be on a break here since my neck still hurts from writing that 2k pound of word vomit that is known to be one of my greatest smut piece that eventually earned me the title as ‘The Emissary for Zaddy Cannibal’ WHEEZE and I started writing this at 1:57 am so let’s hope I’d finish this before 4 am. I’m basing some stuff I know about Maliksi from the comics and perhaps the anime as well. I also suggest listening to Evermore from the live-action version of Beauty and the Beast after reading!

PS. I didn’t finish this last night because I got sleepy at 3 am. There’s an AO3 version of this that’s direct to the point if you want something shorter than this one which can be found here! Oh and my grandma suggested that I set the font size to 12 instead of 11! and as always, I finished this at 3:29 am GGWP talaga.

Anyways, enjoy! _______________________________________

If people asked about how the Prince of Tikbalangs was like as a person, most of them would describe him as rowdy, haughty, stubborn at times may even be perceived as a pervert due to his distaste of not wearing any underwear underneath his jeans. Some thought of him as the classical, spoiled rich kid who cared for no one but himself but in reality, he was so much more than what people would perceive him to be. Being a Prince was something, sure he got everything that he wanted regardless of what it was, he would always find a way for it but sometimes it led him to live a rather lonely life that felt like he was nothing more but a slave to live through this illusion of being the perfect prince.

If they took the time to peek through the curtains of his façade, they would see that he just wanted someone to understand and see him for who he is but this also proved to be contradictory for the poor fellow given the fact that every time someone would show him just the right amount of honesty and kindness, he would find out that most of these people were only after him for things such as taming him to become their loyal servant, for his money or even for the sake of his looks. He thought that this curse of his would stay with him for the rest of his Engkanto life but somehow that all seemed to change his rather pessimistic view on life when he had come across someone who would turn his whole life in a different direction.

Maliksi had met (Y/N) (L/N) on one of his father’s many extravagant events where he was forced to sit through it. Of course, while his father was busy chatting away, the prince took this as an opportunity to sneak away which eventually led him towards an unsuspecting person who would change his life forever.

At first, the two of them were like total opposites, always clashing and arguing about something to the point that his father, Senior Armanaz had to interfere with their constant bickering but time seemed to wear both Maliksi and (Y/N)’s dissatisfaction for each other’s presence and instead began to tolerate the other, which eventually led into something more than just friendship among the two.

Maliksi and (Y/N) were completely inseparable, almost attached to the hip to the point that the Prince was rarely seen without them. He would take (Y/N) on trips across the country, sometimes he would take them out on long drives after his races and almost everything in between. People have reported that the two seemed even more in sync especially in battle, covering each other’s backs while bantering about which car model was the best or where they would eat after this whole ordeal like the two of them were playing a mere game of Patintero or even playing a good round of Pogs to see who got the most hits on their opponents and who seemed to be stronger.

But there were precious moments where Maliksi would take them on trips across the country just to escape from the hectic and bustling streets of the city and gave them the taste of what it means to be free and live life in color. He would watch his partner’s joyful and almost curious gaze with a feeling of warmth and care in his chest that would make him smile along with them, the two of them would participate in various festivals such as Flores de Mayo and its ritual pageant, Santa Cruzan, The Masskara Festival in Bacolod down to his personal favorite which happened to be the Moriones Festival that takes place in Marinduque. But out of those trips, the one that he treasures the most was the time Maliksi and his parents had flown out to their home province, Bukidnon to celebrate the Kaamulan Festival where his partner met the rest of the family, of course, this was also the time where he had proposed to (Y/N) after their 3 years of dating, he was glad that they had accepted his proposal.

Who knew things would eventually change from thereon. With the underworld restless and agitated from all the events that have transpired, it seemed to put a strain between Maliksi and his fiancé. To make matters worse between the two, Maliksi began to do races that would conclude in fatal car accidents for both parties. This would result in (Y/N) and Maliksi arguing non-stop every time they meet however these fights never resulted in something physical but it would leave them in tears or the other walking away with a slam of the door. This cycle seemed to break the moment a certain Babaylan-Mangdirigma had beat him at his own game and managed to snap some sense into him as well the moment his beloved ran at him at full force, scolding him right in front of Alexandra Trese before the two left to settle their problems in private.

“Magpakasal na tayo.” Maliksi told (Y/N) the morning after the two of them had reconciled. Of course, this made his fiance cough up their drink, eyes wide and still hacking their lungs out while Maliksi made his way over to them, patting their back gently to ease their pain. Once things were clear, (Y/N) could only look at him, disbelief and surprise evident on their face before they spoke, “Seryoso ka ba?! Paano yung simbahan, yung venue-“ Holding their hands in his own, Maliksi could only give his soon-to-be spouse a grin, placing a chaste kiss upon the back of their hands. “Wag ka nang magalala, babe. I’ve got it covered.” And just like he had said, Maliksi did have it covered, the venue, the church, and everything in between. It was a quick but simple ceremony that had his parents and (Y/N)’s parents present and nobody outside of the clan knew about this union between them. Time seemed to move quickly after that but the two newlyweds felt like it was an eternity for them both.

In a short amount of time the fantasy of church bells and dreaming faded into war cries and chants of ‘Sic Itur Ad Astra’  quickly and we see Maliksi and his spouse come face to face with the greatest foe they’ve ever come across, the war-god of Bukidnon, Talagbusao. With the rest of their forces subdued by the War God and Maliksi trying to recover from the hit he had taken from Talagbusao, the Tikbalang prince seemed to take notice that his spouse was nowhere in sight and panic seemed to take a hold on him like a choke-hold. Standing up, he began to look for them, ruby-red eyes rapidly scanning the area, furiously looking for his beloved, silently praying to Bathala that they were okay or let alone still be alive.

His prayers seemed to be answered when he saw them, still kicking and fighting and running to where Talagbusao was and he immediately knew something was wrong. “(Y/N)!! ANONG GINAGAWA MO!?” Maliksi yelled out through the sound of roaring bullets, trying his best to reach over to where their lover was.  “Alexandra, ngayon na!” Maliksi heard (Y/N)’s commanding voice ring out as she caught the Babylan-Mandirigma’s knife, Sinag throwing it to her while they subdued Talagbusao to the best of their abilities, eyes locked with their husband as they mouthed at him, ‘Patawarin mo ako, Maliksi.’ And as quick as a flash, Alexandra, Talagbusao, and (Y/N) disappeared into the Dragon’s Gate. Maliksi was left to watch his spouse in paralyzed horror and shock disappear right before his eyes, chest clenching in panic as the impact of the closing portal sent everyone nearby it flying backward.

_____________________

A month has then passed after that event and we see Maliksi within the Trese household as he would always do, always waiting, hoping, and praying that his (Y/N) would return to him safe and unharmed. This day was different than the other days he would spend at the household because this day was the day that Alexandra Trese had returned as announced by a pale-looking and wide-eyed Hank. The tikbalang prince was the first to head where Alexandra---who was now swarmed by her older brothers and the kambal, his eyes still searching for his spouse, his expression of hope immediately diminished as he spoke, his voice slowly trembling with each step he took, “Nasaan si (Y/N), Alexandra?”  at the mention of his spouse’s name, Alexandra then refused to meet his eyes as the rest of the Trese siblings along with the Kambal clearing a path for him, all watching him with disconsolate looks and glistening eyes as Alexandra held onto Sinag as tightly as she could, trying her best to find the right words to say to him.

“Wala na si, (Y/N), Maliksi. She’s gone.”

_________________________

“There is a story, of a man who had lost his beloved in a war, some say he still waits for their return, others say that the day his beloved had disappeared, he had soon followed.” 

“They say that this man could be found standing by the tall windows of Tower A [1] located in Ayala Avenue. Urban myths suggest that this man is a ghost bound to the building, others say that he’s the reason why that Tower still exists.” Now in his prime, Maliksi sat in the place where his father used to sit. It had been years since he had taken over the clan and years since his beloved, (Y/N) was taken away from him at such an early age. Beside him was an empty throne reserved for them once they return. No matter how many years it would take him, Maliksi Armanaz, former prince and now leader of the Armanaz clan, would still wait for his beloved, (Y/N) to return to him until the end of his days. He would wait for them for evermore.   

[geekwritersworld]

Where’s my love?

Pairing: Arthur Shelby x OC(Joey)

warnings: angst, mentions of a dead body

summary:(as stated below in the request)

 Request: Ok sweet I have a plot for an oc X canon where my oc is paired with one of the peaky Blinders characters Arthur I guess. My oc is a maid so say they've been having an affair for quite some time and it gets angsty realizing he's married she decided to leave or fake her death since I picture angst😅. She's alot older now and realized she made a mistake and goes back to him. And they reunite after some time she realizes that she loves him.

A/n: I think I made Linda out to be bitchier than she is....yikes

Thank you so much for requesting @abitofloveaintweird​, so sorry that this kind of short.

As always, feedback is welcome, it really helps us writers. Thank you for reading ❤ 

"because you have a wife, Arthur" Joey hissed.

"right, and what's your bloody point?" Arthur held her shoulders. His hands felt warm on her bare shoulders. Her dress hung off of her shoulders untied.

"my point is, it's not right for me to sleep with a man who's married" she didn't look at him, she couldn't" and it's not right for you to sleep with another woman when you're married”

"and I'm not sure it's right for Linda to be married, yet here I fookin' am" Arthur snorted.

"you don't bloody get it" she rolled her eyes, standing up to fix her dress and get back to work. But she knew in her heart that she wouldn't be here the next morning.

Arthur didn’t pay any mind, assuming she’d be there the next day as usual. But he didn’t hear her slipping out that night. 

She’d known better than to just up and leave. So she made a short detour to the waters before she finally slipped away quietly.

When he awoke the next morning with Linda next to him, Arthur was already irritated and wanted nothing more than to hold his beloved Joey in his arms. But that would have to wait till Linda left.

5 years later and Arthur still thought of her. The feeling of her skin under the soft caress of his calloused fingers. The glimmer in her eyes when she looked at him.

Arthur Shelby remembered that wretched morning from 5 years ago like it was yesterday. He’d noticed something was wrong when it was Bertha who placed his breakfast before him and not Joey. 

But he hadn’t too much time to think over it since Tommy had called him for some business dealing and that's where Arthur had been the entire day. 

When he returned in the dead of night, it was strange that Joey wasn’t there to see him. She always was.

Her absence had started to become more apparent. He’d questioned Linda the following morning, but the self-absorbed woman didn't even know Joey by name.

When the coppers showed up at his door a week later, informing Arthur and Linda that their maid, whom Arthur had asked the cops of Birmingham to keep a lookout for since she’d gone missing, had been found; Arthur didn’t let himself feel joyous because the look on the copper's face was enough to tell him it wasn’t good.

Joey thought she’d figured it out in London. Working in a club that paid exceedingly well, she kept to herself.

Nobody really ever bothered her, except the occasional drunk men.

When she wasn’t at the club working, Joey would be home. She preferred the warmth and safety of the small house she could afford rather than the uncertainty that floated within the streets.

It’d be a lie had she said she didn't occasionally think of Arthur. If occasionally meant all the time.

She thought of him all day. Having worked as a maid prior to her job as a barmaid, she’d learned to skillfully multitask. 

She thought of Arthur as she served the drinks, she thought of him whilst wiping down tables and she thought of him when she was home. Everything reminded her of him.

Joey missed his loud laughter and his quips. She missed the feeling of his hands around her shoulders, the warmth of his body against hers. His fingers lingering on her palms.

She often wondered whether Arthur had been affected in the slightest by her alleged death. Had he wept for her? Did he mourn or did he carry on unaffected?

The one person she tried not to think about too much was Linda. Despite the years that passed, there was an ever sense of guilt that lingered in her heart.

 Joey didn’t regret Arthur, but that she fell for him and acted on her feelings when he was already married. Why couldn’t it have been before he married Linda?

Often, Joey laid awake imagining herself returning to small heath. To Arthur. She’d imagine Arthurs face, which she imagined was joyous. She pictured being close to him, holding him. she imagined Arthurs fingers soothing her dark brown hair back as the two of them swayed back and forth in his dim-lit room.

She missed him. The way he spoke to her, the smile she’d receive in return when she helped him with something, the laughter that was infectious and never failed to bring a smile to her lips. She missed the calming words he’d whisper to her in the early hours of the morning when Linda had left the house.

Arthur never stopped thinking of her. Linda wasn’t half the woman Joey was.

She wasn’t half as kind nor thoughtful, she didn’t care for anyone besides herself. 

Arthur and Linda knew the only thing holding their marriage together was the conversation they were avoiding. They knew that their marriage would be over the moment they spoke of it. But as long Linda stayed out Arthur’s way and Arthur out of Linda’s, neither were getting any closer to sorting out their marriage.

It became increasingly difficult to focus on anything for Arthur. Tommy and the rest of the Shelby’s noticed. 

The usually easy-to-read Arthur had now become someone they didn’t quite understand. 

But Aunt Pol and Tommy were the first to realize that the change in Arthurs behavior was connected to his maid’s death 5 years ago.

“I know your grieving, but you can’t fucking let it interfere with your handling the fucking business Arthur!" Tommy was an exceptional bookkeeper, he handled numbers well, his memory was exceptional, but even he lost count over the number of times he snapped at Arthur about the same thing in 5 years.

Arthurs temper got more out of hand each day, without Joey. And it started to affect the business, he'd punch without reason, shoot and blind anyone he wanted. He didn't think he had anything to lose.

Sometimes he tried to pretend Linda was Joey. Just to get through the night. He pretended it was Joey’s fingers laced within his. Her breath on his neck, and her head on his heart.

But even he never truly believed those pretenses.

It didn't take long for Linda to realize her husband had feelings for Joey. She wasn't sure if she was hurt or not. She only ever married Arthur for security. For the roof over her head, he had promised.

In January shortly after Tommy wed Grace, Arthur stumbled through the streets of small heath. It was in the early hours of the morning, a time when only the workers would wake.

He had one reason for being awake at that hour. That cold, misty, and foggy morning marked 5 years since Joey’s death. Since the last time, he saw her.

Arthur sat under the bridge, the one at the edge of small heath. The one where they found her clothes. Her belongings; shoes, purse, coat but not her body. They never did find her body. 

The police declared the water to be far too cold to send copper's searching for her body, at best they'd have to wait for her body to float to the surface. 5 years later, and it still never did.

And once again, they assumed it was the large overgrown weeds and shrubbery at the very bottom of the river, where her body had been entangled and stuck. Hence never resurfacing.

Arthur remembered screaming at the cops to find her body, but because Joey had no known family nobody ever insisted on her being found or the river being searched. And she remained at the bottom of the river.

 As far as anyone cared to know.

So he sat there, his feet hanging over the edge. His face red, as he sat on the banks of the river, the bridge overhead.

The river flowed making noises while crashing against the rocks, the birds chirping in a distance, and the rustling of a few leaves in a distance. He heard leaves breaking, as the wind grew stronger.

He didn’t realize how long he’d sat there staring at the water till he noticed his surroundings darkening. 

Rubbing his hand over his face with a sigh, Arthur got up with a grunt, stumbling for a second before walking back towards his now empty home.

Linda surely must have left by then, she’d told him she was leaving and would be gone by sundown.

Arthur didn’t have a reaction to Linda telling him she was leaving him. He didn’t care. He didn’t love her. She meant nothing to him.

By the time Arthur had reached his door, the sky had darkened completely. But time was of no essence to Arthur. Not when he didn't have anything else to lose.

But before Arthur could open his door and walk in, the leaves rustled a little behind him. He heard the swift movement of someone's feet on the ground behind him. 

So he did what he knew best.

He pulled out his gun and turned around, finger on the trigger, ready to shoot whoever was behind him.

But the gun clattered to the ground, the noise resonating in Arthurs's ears, like the sound of her voice greeting him.

“Why the fuck are you playing with my head? It’s already fucked up there” He sounded like a madman. He felt like one.

“What?” he expected her to chuckle, the way she did for five years, in his head. The way she taunted him as a figment of his imagination he couldn't get away from.

“I FOOKIN KNOW I DIDN’T BLOODY SAVE YOU” his face red, his eye streaming with tears. 

She’d only ever seen him this broken once. 

“Arthur I’m here” 

“No you're bloody not, you're in me head” he stumbled and sat down on the front stairs. His head hurting from how hard he was crying.

“No, No, Arthur,  Arthur I'm truly here” He felt her slide her hand around his shoulders.  

Her ocean-blue eyes searched his features. Not sure what she was looking for.

“What the fuck?” Arthur seemed to realize now. That Joey was there. Next to him. Not taunting him in his head from across the divide. She was in front of him. Holding him. She was alive.

“Where the fook have you been? You were fookin dead?”That's when it sunk in completely and Arthur realized that she'd faked her death "Why would you lie about being dead?!"

Arthur was angry. He was angry and heartbroken.

“Because I had to,” she said softly.

She managed to get him inside. She couldn’t help but feel curious as to why Linda wasn’t home. But she needed to focus on Arthur first.

“I left because I thought that I’d made a mistake. I thought getting away from here, I could have started a new life. One where I didn't wreck someone's marriage” She tried explaining, but now that she explained it to the man she’d run from, suddenly she didn't think her reasons made sense.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“because I knew you wouldn’t let me go”

“You didn’t wreck my marriage, you wrecked me” His hands were shaking now.

 The tears she’d tried to hold back were now flowing down her cheeks.

“Five years, Five fookin’ years I thought you was dead” his voice shaking, Arthur slowly looked up at her. She looked just as breathtaking as she did all those years ago.

There was the silence that lingered, eventually, Arthur stood up, his chair scraping the ground. Walking to Joey’s side of the table, he hugged her. He held her tight as though he were afraid that if he didn’t hold her tight enough, she’d turn out to be a figment of his imagination.

And Arthur knew he couldn’t ever take that. It ruined him the first time, losing her. And it would kill him if he ever lost her again.

So he held her, shaking.

"where's Li-"

"She left. Hopefully never coming back" Arthur didn't have a care in the world for anyone else at that point. The woman he truly loved was in his arms, he couldn't find it in himself to be outraged any further, afraid that he might lose her again.

 He had a hundred questions for, but they'd have to wait for later. He just wanted to remain in her arms, through the night. Holding her, running his hand through her hair, rubbing soothing circles on her palms, kissing her forehead, watching her fall asleep. It's all he wanted.

“I realized I made a stupid mistake Arthur. I'm sorry. I truly am” She mumbled against his chest.

“Why’d you come back?”

“For you”

[mcheang]

Lila doesn't know that Marinette's parents own the bakery and thinks that she's just an employee. So, she tries getting Mari fired by acting like a Karen, complaining about the service, etc. Or, she just tells the Tom and Sabine about how Mari is a bully at school and other lies. Unbeknownst to Lila, one of her classmates or someone from school overhears and records what Lila said. Tom and Sabine either reveal that they're Mari's parents or she learns at school.

Nickname

I’m not gonna use the phrase “Karen”. It’s kind of sad that this name can also be an insult. I always liked the name ever since watching Mermaid Melody.

Everyone knows Chloé refers to Marinette as “Dupain-Cheng”. But how does Lila learn about it?

One morning, Lila saw Chloé lounging at her desk when Marinette rushed in, surprisingly on time for once.

Chloé held out her hand imperiously. “Dupain-Cheng.”

Marinette huffed. “I have a name you know.” And she handed over a T&S box of macarons.

Chloé: your point?

Lila turned to Nathaniel. “Does Marinette work at a bakery or something?”

Nathaniel: You’ve never been to Tom and Sabine’s patisserie before? You’ve gotta go today. They are the best patisserie in Paris!

Lila raised a brow. “Wow, Marinette must be quite the baker to have gotten hired.”

Nathaniel shrugged. “Well, she’s still learning but Marinette comes from a long line of bakers. She’ll probably be a professional by the time we graduate.”

Lila hid her scowl. She had not forgotten her promise of war to Marinette. And what better way to start then by sabotaging her job? After all, Lila had only just returned and while the class was under her spell, they won’t be so easy to turn on their old friend just yet. A professional bakery on the other hand...

Lila visited the bakery after school, when she was certain no one from class would be visiting it.

Down there, Lila wasn’t that impressed by the space, though the decor was colourful and elegant.

She ordered a macaron. After having a nibble of the admittedly scrumptious macaron, Lila made a face.

Tom: oh, is something wrong?

Lila: oh, it’s just that this is my first time in Paris and I was looking forward to trying the pastries here. I’m a popular food blogger you see. I travel overseas for holidays and recommend what to try and what to avoid on my blog. My fans were so excited to see my food recommendations, one of which was the macarons. But after this, I’m disappointed.

A waiting customer in line heard what Lila said and started filming her. Lila didn’t mind.

Tom was worried. “I’m sorry to hear that. Normally our customers love our macarons. Perhaps it’s because you are not used to french cuisine?”

Lila but back a retort, and instead sighed. “I gave this place a try after Marinette recommended it.”

Tom: our Marinette?

Lila: yes, she kept pushing me to come visit your patisserie. Even after I said yes, she kept badgering me and even the teacher reprimanded us!

Tom raised a brow. “That doesn’t sound like Marinette.”

Lila: she also promised me a free box of macarons if I visited. But now I’m not so sure. I’m afraid this is a definite place-to-avoid for my blog.

Tom was now suspicious of this girl. Marinette never pushed for reviewers to visit their place. She never needed to. Their bakery was doing splendidly. And it’s not like Marinette to just surprise them with a strange blogger without leaving a warning message.

Lila was hoping her representation of Marinette would paint her as a horrible employee. And she wanted some free macarons too from a boss hoping to salvage his company’s reputation.

But Tom just crossed his arms and gave a cold smile. “I’m sorry you didn’t like our macarons. But you still have to pay for the macaron you just ate.”

Lila frowned at the man. “So rude. I should at least have gotten a refund for the horrid taste.”

Tom’s face turned stern. “If you refuse to pay, I will call the police.”

Lila rolled her eyes. “Don’t be such a drama queen.” She handed over a bill. “Here.”

Lila stormed out, too upset to even enjoy the macaron in her hand.

When Marinette and Alya came inside, Tom called them over. “Marinette, is there a food blogger in your school.”

Marinette blinked. “Not that I know of. Alya?”

Alya shrugged, “Sorry. I don’t watch those.”

Tom: a girl came by today saying you had offered her a free box of macarons in exchange for her visiting. She also claimed to be a food blogger.

Alya: must have been a scammer.

Marinette: but how did she know my name? From the sound of it, she probably never came here before.

Tom: she had brown hair.

Alya: that’s it?

Tom scratched his head. “I’m not good at remembering people. But that’s the beauty of security cameras!”

Tom led them to the back where he showed the girls the Lila drama.

Marinette growled. “Lila!”

Alya: what the hell? You never go near her if you can help it, always claiming she’s a ...liar...oh.

Marinette: yeah.

Alya: well, I can see why you hate her so much now if this is her true personality. What a snob. Even Chloé doesn’t act like that.

Tom: so you do know her.

Marinette: Lila’s a new girl who likes to make up grand stories about herself and has somehow convinced our friends to buy her lunch.

Alya counted off her fingers. “Forgotten wallet, sprained wrist, allergic to the cheap menu items, donated all her allowance to charity...”

Marinette: which one did you pay for?

Alya: when she told me she was robbed. Ugh. That liar is going down!

Marinette: but Adrien thinks we should take the high road.

Alya: Adrien’s rich. We’re not! I’m busting her right now! Mr Dupain, may I film this scene?

Tom: sure. I have to get back to the counter to help Sabine.

But as Alya spread the footage to the class, another clip was being shared rapidly among Parisians.

The girls opened their messages to see a video link.

WHO IS THIS GIRL TO CRITICISE OUR BELOVED PATISSERIE?

It was the same scene, but shot from another angle.

The waiting customer was a fan of the patisserie and a regular customer. She was not pleased at hearing a supposedly famous blogger giving the shop a bad review from just one nibble. and Marinette was such a sweetheart, the customer didn’t believe the drivel that came out of Lila’s mouth. And so she posted this clip, calling Lila out on her rude behavior, and asking if anyone knows this so-called famous food blogger.

Alya eagerly replied.

This clip became so widely spread that it even made the evening news, told by Nadja Chmack, who had even interviewed Mrs Rossi and told her what Alya and other commenters have said.

Mrs Rossi was too stunned to give a comment and had retreated to her office.

Ironic that the diplomat had such a mob-rousing daughter.

Mrs Rossi’s public humiliation was perfect for akuma bait. She basically spent her time looking for Lila to confront her but was defeated before Lila even knew what was going on.

Mrs Rossi apologized to the heroes for doubting their ability.

When Lila came home, she was surprised to see her mother waiting for her. Were they actually having dinner together?

Not exactly. Mrs Rossi tore into Lila for her horrendous behavior and outrageous lies.

And because Mrs Rossi was in the spotlight for negligent parenting, she went for extreme measures. From now on, Mrs Rossi would call the school every day, once in the morning to see if Lila had arrived, and every evening to see her progress report. Lila’s allowance would be cut off since she had been cheating her classmates for lunch money. Lila would also be seeing a professional therapist regarding her behavior.

Lila was shocked and furious she had been exposed to Paris as a fraud. She was hoping for an akuma, but Mrs Rossi had realized her lecture would cause upset emotion so she had asked the heroes to keep an eye out while she lectured her daughter. Ladybug caught the approaching akuma quite easily. Chat Noir’s night vision helped.

Lila tries to claim she felt lonely but Mrs Rossi retorted that was no excuse for her behavior. Then Lila tried to blame her mother for neglecting her and forcing her to keep leaving behind any new friends she makes just because of her diplomat job.

Mrs Rossi paused at that. It was true.

“Fine. I’ll concede on that point.”

Lila brightened up until her mother continued. “You’ll be finishing one last semester here before I send you home to live with my parents. They’ll give you undivided attention (monitoring) and you’ll have friends for the long-run (which means if Lila gets caught for lying, she will face the consequences instead of moving away)”

Lila: you’re abandoning me again?!

Mrs Rossi: I’m going to leave you in capable hands. And it’s not like I don’t want to spend time with you, Lila. But someone has to keep a roof over our heads and pay the bills.

When Lila returned to school the next day, she scowled right back at the glares that came her way. Upon entering class, Chloé called out, “Look, it’s the famous blogger. Oh, wait, no, never mind. It’s just some bragging nobody.”

Adrien stayed silent. Alya had chewed him out for his advice and warned him he was on shaky ground. Yeah, Nino wasn’t happy with him either but defended his bro was unaware of the cafeteria activity since he was always at home for lunch.

When Lila sat down, Nathaniel drawled next to her. “Oh, did I mention Lie-la, that the patisserie you asked about is Marinette’s family business?”

Lila’s fingernails had splinters under them.

[fairydollsteps]

Hey

Can I request Zenitsu with a female demon reader who lost her husband because of demons and was turned into a demon too and Zenitsu reminds her of her husband when they first meet so she just starts to cry and hug, cling to him? c:

Hello! I find your request interesting and I would love to write it down! :D I do hope you don’t mind if I describe the reader's relationship with Zenitsu is platonic instead just see Zenitsu like a family member as the reader would be a lot older than him, like an adult and also there will be some changes here and there but is related to your request. I do hope what I wrote is what you wanted! There will be a short scenarios about the reader past and some headcanon along with it too. Enjoy reading! 💖

Zenitsu with a Sisterlike Demon Friend

The happiness that you thought would last forever with your dear husband was shattered into countless pieces

It all happens during the night where you and your husband were eating dinner together. The food served was delectable that you enjoy it so much. Just like how the demon enjoying itself devouring your husband after it has crashed into your home.

Just right before you were attacked by the vicious demon, your husband covers you and fights back. Even so, the demon has left you a severe wound that has its blood in it which you will suffer later on.

You were watching your husband fighting the demon back, watches his neck get bitten in the process while you try to stop your bleeding. He screamed at you to run and never come back, you can hear the anguish and pain in his voice.

You did what you were told by your husband out of fear and distress as you can’t handle another second to see the sight of your beloved getting killed. You head out of your house and run away, never looking back. You run as fast as you can, not noticing your blood dripping down from your wound, leaving a trail of blood behind you as you run.

You are turning into a demon as you kept running. It hurts physically but you ignored it and keep running but it worse as you can feel a sharp piercing pain from you wound. You collapsed down and started vomiting blood on the ground violently. Blood is also shedding from your eyes and you can feel your whole entire body tormented from this excruciating pain.

You are turning into a demon.

Now that all conclude the reader’s past, let dive into the headcanons part(cause I am lazy to put in so much effort in continuing this.)

You thought you are going to die at this point, what you didn’t know that the blood trail behind that you bled before has kill some demons with its lethal scent that was about to prey on you.

Little did you know, a young lady with butterfly hairpin both side, wearing a black uniform was watching the whole thing unfold. Watching you vomiting blood on the ground violently then collapsed unconscious.

The next thing you saw after you regain your conscious is where you in a cell. You also saw a bunch of people in different height and build. You also saw the young lady earlier right before you collapsed.

You expect yourself to be petrified because the people are glaring deep in to your soul but you felt nothing. Numb will be the right word for how you are feeling now when suddenly the lady you saw before walk up to you.

“Hello, I am Kanae Kocho. Please stay calm, we are not going to do anything with you. We just wanted to have a talk with you,” she said as she smile sweetly.

That’s when a man with a black shoulder length comes in. Kagaya Ubuyashiki.It’s his name you heard as he was introduced by his children.

He talks to you gently while you are in a cage with a soft smile. He asks you what had happened to you and you explains everything, the tragic events that you have to go through to him.

Of course, the people you saw earlier who were introduced as the Hashira, were suspicious about what you said but also shocked that you have saved many slayers from their corps.

Apparently, what they meant is that your Blood Demon Art has saved countless of lives from the corps where they were investigating the area you were in to hunt down demons.

None has died, only some suffer minor injuries. 

Of course, there is some arguments here and there whether they should keep you as their most powerful weapon to hunt demons down or to just slay your head off for good.

It was then decided that the Demon Slayer Corps should keep you after Kanae express her opinion and concern that many casualties would happen if it wasn’t for your power and that you have no intention of killing humans.

Once all has been concluded, you were left to be alive instead getting your head cut off but you would many restrictions. You were later send to Tamayo and Yushiro to stay with them.

You started your lives with them. Tamayo welcomed you in warmly while Yushiro is just glaring at you which he soon get scolded by Tamayo.

Your Life as a demon

Let’s just say that, your husband’s death has put a huge impact on you deeply. You become cold and emotionless. The only person who you can trust for now is Tamayo as she also go through the same thing and also has similar demon technique.

You help her with creating medicine and stuff and soon become a doctor just like her.

Yushiro would later on have respect with you for how you work hard for Tamayo. 

You don’t show it, you are disgusted of yourself for become a same species with the monster that has murdered your dear husband. You would left yourself a scar or cut on your face every time you see yourself in the mirror, just watching the blood drip down and hating yourself.

 You don’t care about the injuries you had put on yourself cause it will regenerate itself anyway because you are a demon. You bottle and repress your feelings because you are demon and nobody care if you cry cause you are hated for what you have become. Even you never choose to become what you have become.

You are afraid of the thought of how your husband would think about because you have become a demon.

Because you are a demon.

You keep thinking about this often, degrading yourself while keeping a stern and empty face. Showing absolutely no emotions and weakness.

The only reason why you are still alive is because Tamayo was there to comfort you when you are feeling down although you never show it.

One day, you were the strolling around the street during the night. You just want to relax a bit from your mind. The street was dark and quiet. After all, you were out late in the night.

Until the silence was interrupted by a scream from a far distance. You follow it as it sounds like someone is in trouble and hopeless.

You saw a demon on your way, hobbling towards to you. You don’t care about it an annihilate it immediately using your blood demon technique.

That’s when the scream stops, you turn around and saw a blonde boy on top a tree, clinging tightly on one of its branches.

“IS IT DEAD ALREADY!?!?!??! IS IT!??! IS IT!!!! THAT THING WAS HELLA SCARY THAT I JUST RUN!!!!!! the boy screamed.

You walk to towards to the tree and reach out your hand to him.

“No worries, is gone now. Please come down. You might fall,” you said in a reserved turn.

“A-a-are you sure!!??!?!? Y-y-you s-should you k-k-killed it??? he said obviously not believing a word you say until he realized something. You are a demon.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! YOU JUST KILL IT WITH WHAT SEEMS LIKE A BLOOD DEMON ART!!! YOU ARE A DEMON!!!!?!?!? WHY THE HELL DID YOU SAVE ME!??!?! he yelled again after realisation hits him like a boulder.

That’s when you saw a clear image of the boy. He looks just like him. Your husband . You froze for a while and the way the boy knowing you are a demon reminds you all the past. The past that you wished to cover forever comes back.

Your knee drop and then you starts sobbing. All your hate and disgust on yourself is coming back at the same time and its too much for you to handle them anymore. You continue think how your late husband thinks of you. A monster? A strange creature? Not the person that he used to love?

You started to cry when the boy talks to you. “U-um...hey, I am s-sorry for w-what I mentioned earlier,” There is some fear in his voice but there is also some gratitude and sincerity in it. “E-even if you are a d-demon, you did s-save my life after all,”.

He still though keep his distance with you. You noticed a wound on his hand and some on the side of his forehead. You offer the boy to treat your wounds as it do looks pretty severe.

He was reluctant for a while until give in. You still keep your distance with him while tending him, as you do not wanted to scared him like before. Mainly because it makes you think that’s how your husband feel to you because the boy looks so much like your husband except the boy is blonde.

“What’s your name?” you ask. “U-um is Zenitsu A-agatsuma. You can call me Z-Zenitsu,” he answered. “I’m (Y/n) (L/N),”.

Once you finished tending him, you explain yourself a bit that you are working for Demon Slayer Corps along with Tamayo and Yushiro. Zenitsu soon trusted you a little after knowing that you are a no threat.

Just as he was about, you quickly propose to walk back with him as you are worry for his safety to go back.

You both begin to talk and knowing about each other as you both walk. You and Zenitsu enjoy together chatting and Zenitsu is smiling because he can finally talk to a women without making himself a complete fool and making himself look weird. You begin to smile and feel happy for the first time and forever after what you have gone through.

Your Relationship with Him

Once Zenitsu is comfortable with you, your relationship with him is quite similar with Tanjiro, Nezuko and Tamayo. Like Zenitsu helps you finally feel happy and makes you smile just like how Tanjiro and Nezuko makes Tamayo feel the loving feelings of a family.

You are pretty older than Zenitsu so Zenitsu calls you (L/N)-san as a sign of respect for you and you really appreciate it.

You begin visiting the Butterfly Estate during after for a long time just to see how Zenitsu is doing. Shinobu, of course was aware and distrustful with you but warm up a little after knowing that you just wanted to know how Zenitsu is doing after coming back from a mission. Shinobu started to welcome you when you come to visit and started to respect you after you are willingly to share some of your knowledge with poison and medicine with her. she stills don’t trust you but still has some respect and kindness for you.

Zenitsu would introduce you to his friends,Tanjiro and Inosuke. You heard a lot about them from Zenitsu during your conversation with him. Tanjiro would a little bit flustered because of how gorgeous you are and a little scared because you look so stern and cold but soon warm up to you after you treat him with kindness and respect. Inosuke would also like you after you give him some rice balls and shrimp that he becomes so touched that he was stucked for a while because of how generous you are and thinks you are some goddes or something.

Zenitsu would of course be pissed if these two were to hog your attention too much that he feels left out. You would of course meet Nezuko as both you and Nezuko suffered from the same tragedies.

Zenitsu won’t feel any romantic feelings for you because you are a lot older than him so instead, he sees you as like and elder sister and a role model.

You would act like a role model to Zenitsu. Always teaching him how to behave and collect himself when he lost his composure. Also giving him advice  and so on. Zenitsu respect you deeply ever since then.

You would also act like a protective elder sister to Zenitsu. and zenitsu loves it. You would always check on him when he come back from a mission, making sure he is eating well, always making medicine for him when he is hurt and so on. You would sometimes offer to tag along a mission with Zenitsu so you can protect him and make sure he is alive. You did all of this for him because you do not want Zenitsu to suffer the same fate as your husband.

Speaking of your husband death, you have once mentioned your tragic past to Zenitsu and explained that he looks so much like your husband which explained why you are so protective and caring towards him. You also mention your hate and disgust on yourself for what you have become.

Then Zenitsu immediately freaks out after recalling your first meeting with hima and he apologies to you profusely. After feeling absolutely guilt for making you cry because of his overexaggerating reaction.

You reassure him that’s alright and is just that he didn’t know. He do still feels guilt though but you would give your sincere reassurance to him.

After you have talk about your past, he wanted to become stronger and more braver so you do not have to worry about him.

Zenitsu would come in a speed of lightning when he knows that you are upset on yourself and would try to comfort you. You really appreciate his effort in cheering you up.

You would also try to help Zenitsu in his training like explaining parts that he can improve and motivate him to continue fighting and training.

Because you are a demon and can’t walk under the sun, you and Zenitsu would hang out at the street markets or go shopping during the night. These memories you created with him are memorable and precious.

You were glad that you save Zenitsu from before as he has helps you heal the scar that was caused from your husband’s death.

All you wished for Zenitsu is for him alive and living happily.

Words: 2,340.....AAHAVIYQWVCKQW!!!! I am sorry that I got carried away for writing so much! I just have so many idea for this and would hate it so much to throw it away!!! This tooks me so long so likes and reblog would be deeply appreciated .Anyway, thank you for reading and have a good day!

[bechloeislegit]

My Spy - Chapter 8

A/N: I know I said I was going to jump ahead about 6 months but decided to put the events that occurred during that time here for context later. I hope you enjoy what I've done.

One month later, in Copenhagen, Denmark, the Barden Bellas had become the first U.S. team to win the World Acapella Championships.

"I can't believe we won," Stacie said as the Bellas gathered in Beca's room.

"I can't believe DSM was a no-show," Flo said. "I wonder what happened to cause them to drop out."

"Who cares?" Jessica said. "We won and the Bellas live to sing another day!"

The Bellas started yelling and cheering.

"Um, guys!" Beca yelled over the noise. "I love that we won, but look at this."

Beca turned her laptop toward the girls and they all quieted when they saw the news article on the screen.

"Members of the award-winning German singing group, DSM, were arrested during a drug raid in New York," CR read aloud. "Beloved leaders Kommissar and Pieter were killed during a shootout with the FBI. Wow!"

"Oh, my stars," Emily said, reading further in the article. "They were drug smugglers."

"Do you think Chloe was involved in killing them?" Fat Amy asked.

"Why is that the first thing you'd think of?" Beca asked, glaring at Amy. "Chloe isn't the only FBI agent out there."

"It just seems fishy to me," Fat Amy said. "Although, if she was, we might just have to send her a nice gift for eliminating our only real competition."

"You don't think we could have beaten DSM if they had been here?" Ashley asked, looking at Fat Amy.

Before Amy could respond, Beca spoke up.

"I think we would have won no matter what. We had a great set, precision choreography, plus an original song and some of the old Bellas performing with us. There is no way we could have lost."

"Beca's right," Aubrey said. "And I for one think we should celebrate the fact that the Bellas are the World Champions."

"Woo hoo!" Stacie yelled out, causing the Bellas to start cheering and yelling again.

Beca stood off to the side, watching the celebration unfold. While in the back of her mind, she couldn't help but wonder if maybe Chloe had been involved in taking down the leaders of DSM.

~~ My Spy ~~

The Bellas had been back home in the U.S. for two months. The pomp and accolades from the win had died down after a few weeks, and the Bellas had moved on to other things.

CR had gotten married in Maine and all the Bellas managed to attend.

Jessica and Ashley were living and working together in Atlanta.

Emily was preparing to be the Captain of a new crop of Bellas.

Flo had found a job working on a juice truck in the hopes of someday owning and operating one of her own.

Stacie was a fitness instructor in an up-and-coming gym near Barden University.

Aubrey had returned to run the Lodge of Fallen Leaves, even though she still hated it.

Nobody is sure what Lily was doing, and none of them had the guts to ask.

Beca and Amy had moved to New York together and were sharing a one-room apartment in Brooklyn.

Beca was walking home from her job at the recording studio when her phone rang. She was shocked to see Chloe's name on her caller ID.

"Chloe?" Beca questioned as she answered the call.

"Yeah, Beca, it's me," Chloe said. "It's so good to finally hear your voice."

"You, too," Beca said, stopping at the entrance to her apartment building.

Beca sat down on the step but didn't say anything; Chloe could hear her breathing.

"So, I understand congratulations are in order," Chloe finally said.

"Congratulations?" Beca asked.

"Yeah," Chloe said. "I heard the Bellas won the World Acapella Championship."

"Oh, right," Beca said, looking around. "We did."

Beca's heart was pounding in her chest. She couldn't believe she was actually talking to Chloe after so many near misses and almost conversations; she was hearing Chloe's voice for the first time in a little over three years.

"So, um, what are you up to these days?" Beca asked, mentally face-palming herself.

"I'm actually on another assignment," Chloe said.

"Oh, um," Beca said. "Were you involved in that whole DSM thing? Never mind, you don't have to answer that."

"I kind of was," Chloe said. "But, I can't really talk about it. The AG still has to prosecute those arrested."

"AG?" Beca asked.

"Attorney General," Chloe responded.

"Oh, um, I see," Beca said and went silent

Chloe could hear the sounds of traffic and the hustle and bustle of people on the streets.

"Beca?" Chloe asked after a few minutes of Beca not saying anything. "Are you okay?"

"What?" Beca asked, running a hand through her hair. "Yeah, yeah. I'm, uh, I'm good."

"Is it always going to be this awkward between us?" Chloe asked with a sigh; she wasn't sure if she really wanted to know the answer.

Beca sighed, too. "God, I hope not," she said, laughing at herself. "I've really missed hearing your voice, seeing your face. Hell, who am I kidding? I miss everything about you."

Chloe chuckled softly. "I feel the same way about you."

Beca smiled and relaxed back against the door.

"So, I was wondering what you might be doing two weeks from Saturday?" Chloe asked.

"Nothing that I can think of," Beca said. "Why?"

"I'm coming back to the U.S. in two weeks for some meetings in New York," Chloe said.

"You're coming to New York?!" Beca asked, sitting upright.

"Yeah," Chloe said. "I was, um, wondering if you'd let me take you out. On a date. We can talk and maybe start fresh on a relationship."

"Hell yeah!" Beca responded, her smile stretching from ear to ear. "I'm in. Just tell me where and when and I'll be there."

Chloe chuckled. "I'll figure out a place and let you know."

"Looking forward to it," Beca said sincerely.

"Me, too," Chloe said.

Beca heard a muffled voice call for Chloe in the background.

"I'm sorry, Beca," Chloe said. "I have to go. But, I'll call you again once I figure out where to take you on our date."

"Okay," Beca said. "I still, um, lo-." Beca quickly swallowed what she was going to say and cleared her throat. "I, uh, am looking forward to seeing you. Um, for our date."

"I still love you, too, Beca," Chloe said, smiling as she ended the call.

~~ My Spy ~~

Amy came home to find Beca sitting on the fold-out bed, staring at her phone with a goofy grin on her face.

"What's going on over there?" Fat Amy asked, looking over at Beca.

"What do you mean?"

"You have a goofy grin on your face," Fat Amy said. "What's that all about?"

"Chloe called me," Beca said.

"For real?" Fat Amy asked. "What did she have to say?"

"She's coming to New York and asked me out to dinner," Beca said.

"She asked you out on a date?"

"Yep."

"That's amazing, Beca," Fat Amy said. "How does she sound? What else did she say?"

"She sounds good," Beca said. "She said she was on an assignment out of the country and was coming back in 2 weeks. That's when she asked me out. I was going to tell her I still loved her, but I chickened out at the last second. But she did say she still loved me before the call ended."

"She did?"

"Yeah," Beca said. "I'm really excited to finally get to see her in person. I wonder if she's changed?"

"Will you actually get to see her is the real question," Fat Amy said "She always seems to be canceling on you because of her job."

"Not this time," Beca said, with more confidence than she felt. "This time we're really going to be together."

"Then I really am happy for you, Beca," Fat Amy said. "And I'll be here for you if she cancels again."

Beca sighed and shook her head. "I'm hungry. Want to order something for delivery? My treat."

"I'm hungry, too," Fat Amy said. "Can we get pizza?"

~~ My Spy ~~

Chloe called Beca a week later to confirm their date.

"I hope you still like Italian food," Chloe said. "I made a reservation at a place called Terre on Fifth Avenue. One of the guys from work recommended it. I checked them out online and the food looks and sounds amazing."

"I do still love Italian food," Beca said. "And I've heard good things about Terre. What time is the reservation?"

"I made them for six," Chloe said. "Is that okay?"

"That's perfect," Beca said. "I'm really looking forward to seeing you."

"I'm looking forward to seeing you, too," Chloe said. "Do you want me to pick you up?"

"That's okay," Beca said. "It's not that far from my apartment. I'll walk."

"Okay," Chloe said. "So, how's work? Did you have a good day?"

Beca chuckled and proceeded to tell Chloe about her job, and her day. They spent close to an hour catching up. When the call was over, Beca realized she had done most of the talking; she didn't learn anything about what Chloe had been up to.

"I guess I'll find out more when we have our date," Beca thought.

~~ My Spy ~~

It was finally date night and Chloe was really nervous as she got to the restaurant early. She was sitting alone at her table, watching the door, hoping each time someone new came in, it would be Beca. She started looking at the menu and was startled when someone plopped down in the seat across from her.

"Jason," Chloe said when she saw him sitting in Beca's seat. "What the Hell are you doing here?"

"Director Collins asked me to join you so I can speak to Beca," Jason said.

"What the actual fuck?" Chloe whisper-yelled, slamming down her menu. She looked around to make sure no one could overhear. "I told the Director I did not want Beca involved in the investigation at all."

"He thinks she's our only option to get to Patricia Hobart," Jason whispered across the table. "Which in turn will get us to Fergus Hobart."

"There has to be a better way," Chloe said, running a hand through her hair. "Why don't you take Amy in and question her? You don't need Beca for that."

"Because we don't have an evidentiary reason to," Jason said, sighing and running a hand through his hair. "I get you don't want to involve Beca, but I've been ordered to explain everything to her and find out if Patricia Hobart has mentioned anything about her father's dealings."

"That's unacceptable-"

"Hey, Chloe."

Chloe jerked her head up to see Beca standing at the table. Her heart started beating faster and she quickly jumped up to pull Beca into a hug.

"I'm so glad you're here," Chloe whispered in Beca's ear. "I've missed you so much."

Beca pulled out of the hug and looked at Jason. "So, um, who's your friend?"

Chloe couldn't stop the warm feeling that went through her when she noticed a hint of jealousy in Beca's eyes.

"He's nobody," Chloe said, turning to glare at Jason. "And he was just leaving."

Jason stood and held out this hand. "Miss Mitchell, I'm Agent Jason Parker, Chloe's partner. I have a few questions I need to ask you."

"No!" Chloe said, looking at Jason. "Not here and definitely not now."

Jason looked around and saw a few people looking over at them. He sighed and looked back at Chloe.

"Then where and when?" Jason asked.

"How about never and nowhere?" Chloe retorted.

"Um, what's this all about?" Beca asked.

"It's nothing," Chloe told Beca. She turned to Jason, saying, "You can go now. You're in Beca's seat."

"Miss Mitchell," Jason said, ignoring Chloe. He lowered his voice as he spoke directly to Beca. "What do you know about Patricia Hobart's father?"

"You mean, Fat Amy?" Beca asked.

"Yes."

"She said both her parents were killed before she came to the U.S. to attend Barden. What's this all about? And why are you asking me about Amy's father?"

"We are helping Australian authorities investigate Mr. Hobart," Jason said, keeping his voice low. "And we believe his daughter may know something about his illegal enterprises."

Beca stared at Jason for a moment before turning her eyes to Chloe. Chloe's heart broke when she saw Beca's eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

"That's why you wanted to see me?" Beca said. "To use me to get information from Amy on her father?"

"No, Beca," Chloe said. "I wanted to see you because I've missed you. I wanted nothing to do with dragging you or Amy into any part of the investigation. You have to believe me."

Chloe reached out for Beca and Beca moved away from her.

"I. . .can't," Beca said, holding up her hands. "I'm don't with whatever this is. I have to go."

Beca turned and started walking away. She wiped a tear from her cheek as she went.

"Beca, wait!" Chloe cried out.

Beca kept walking and Chloe started after her. Jason grabbed Chloe's arm to stop her.

"Let her go," Jason said. "I'll try again later when she's had a chance to calm down."

"No!" Chloe pulled her arm away from Jason. "You've done enough. Now, get the fuck away from me!"

Jason sighed and let Chloe go. Chloe ran out to try and catch up to Beca.

Chloe got outside the restaurant and looked up and down the street, hoping to spot Beca. She didn't see her anywhere.

"Fuck!" Chloe screamed up to the sky.

Jason walked out of the restaurant and heard Chloe. He walked over to her.

"Chloe?" Jason said, getting Chloe's attention. "I'm sorry."

"Fuck you," Chloe said.

"Okay, I deserve that," Jason said. "If you're done cussing me out, we should really go back to the office and give the Director a report."

"You and the Director can kiss my ass," Chloe said.

"Come on, Chloe," Jason said. "I was just following orders. Come with me and help me explain what happened. I've been your partner for over five years, that should account for something."

"Fine," Chloe spit out. "I'll go with you, but don't expect to be on your side in this."

~~ My Spy ~~

Beca stormed into her apartment and slammed the door behind her. She threw her bag on the sofa and toed off her shoes, leaving them by the door.

"You're home early," Fat Amy said. "What happened?"

"She, he, they, ugh!" Beca sputtered. "I'm so mad I can't even talk."

Fat Amy got up and led Beca over to sit at their dining room table. "I'll get you some water."

Fat Amy reached over to the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of water, handing it to Beca.

Beca removed the top and took a large drink from the bottle.

"Thanks," she said. "I needed that."

"Can you tell me what happened with Chloe?"

"When I got there, there was some guy sitting with her. I greeted Chloe and asked who the guy was. She said he was nobody, but the guy stood and introduced himself as her partner Jason."

"I thought Chloe was gay," Fat Amy said.

Beca looked at her with furrowed brows. "No, not that kind of partner. Her work partner."

"Oh," Fat Amy said. "So, why was he there?"

"He said they had some questions to ask me about-." Bec stopped herself, unsure of whether she should tell Amy that the FBI was working with Australian police to investigate her father.

"Ask you questions about what?"

Beca remained silent and played with the label on her water bottle. Beca let out a sigh and looked at Amy.

"About, um, you."

"Me? What about me?"

"Actually, they wanted to know more about your father and what you might know of his illegal activities."

"What?" Fat Amy said and looked down at the floor. "Why are you mad about that? I told you my father was dead."

"I know," Beca said. "And that's what I told them. But, they seem to think he's alive and that you know something."

Fat Amy didn't say anything as she continued to look down at the floor, unable to meet Beca's eyes.

"Oh, my God," Beca said, staring at Amy. "You do know something. I told Chloe I was done with whatever was happening because I thought she only wanted to see me so she could use me to get to you." A tear made its way down Beca's cheek. "I accused her of lying about why she wanted to see me. I thought I was protecting you from her, but instead, I may have just lost the love of my life for good."

"I'm sorry about all that, Beca," Fat Amy said. "For what it's worth, I don't really know anything about what my dad might be accused of doing. I just know he's a bad man who does bad things. And as far as I'm concerned he is dead to me."

"Would you be willing to talk to the FBI and tell them that?" Beca asked, sniffling and wiping away more tears.

"If it will help make things right between you and Chloe, I'll do it."

~~ My Spy ~~

Jason and Chloe arrived at the office. The Director was standing in the middle of the room, talking to another agent. As soon as Chloe saw the Director, she marched up to him and got in his face.

"How dare you!" Chloe yelled. "You sent Jason to interrogate Beca while we were on a date. I told you I didn't want her to have anything to do with the investigation. If you wanted Amy to answer questions, you should have had Jason get her and bring her in, not blindside me by going after Beca while we were on our date."

"Chloe, calm down," the Director said, looking around at the other agents in the room.

"No, I will not calm down," Chloe said. "You knew what this date meant to me. How important it was. I've given up so much for this job. Why couldn't I just have this one thing, Uncle Matt? Why couldn't you leave Beca out of this?"

"Because we firmly believe Beca Mitchell is our best option at getting Patricia Hobart to tell us everything she knows about her father," the Director said.

"That's fucking bullshit and you know it!" Chloe yelled.

"Chloe," the Director said through gritted teeth. "I am the Director and will not allow you to talk to me like that."

"You don't like the way I talk to you, Director?" Chloe said, her voice rising. "Well, you're going to really hate this. Go fuck yourself because I quit!"

With that, Chloe turned and started walking away, leaving a shocked Director standing stone-faced as he watched her walk out the door and disappear into the hallway.

Jason called after Chloe but didn't make a move to follow her.

Chloe heard Jason but did not stop or turn around.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Don't hate me.

[libraryofloveletters]

in a matter of seconds, the world crumbled

Summery: The thought of not being able to tell Eddie how he felt never crossed his mind until that moment, the moment the world crumbled

 post-coda of 4x13 in which things take a turn for the worse.

Warnings: blood, hospitals, medical inaccuracies, injuries, death.

A/N: Thought I'd try my hand at breaking your hearts. Do forgive the medical inaccuracies, I don’t know medical terminology for shit. Also for my beloved Logan because I told her I was making it sad @mrs-dr-reid

[AO3 LINK]

---

The warmth of the blood splattered across his face caused his own blood to run cold.

The gaping hole in his shoulder as he stood across from him, the two of them frozen in time.

Everything happened so fast.

Buck didn’t have a chance to register what had happened. One minute he and Eddie were talking and the next he was on the floor. Buck and Eddie were both in shock. The blood soaked through his uniform, Buck couldn’t bring himself to move - everything in him was screaming to run toward Eddie but physically couldn’t.

If it weren’t for Captain Metha, Buck would be right next to Eddie with a bullet in him too.

The next 5 minutes were a blur.

Buck was beside the truck on the floor, his eyes glued to Eddie.

Eddie was slipping and he was slipping fast.

“Shots fired! Firefighter is down, I repeat, firefighter is down!”

“Eddie,” he mumbled. “His name is Eddie.” Buck says to himself.

All Buck wanted to do was run towards Eddie, to help him like Eddie had helped him when he was pinned under the truck not so long ago but he couldn’t.

Eddie’s breaths were slow and heavy, it seemed like it hurt him to breathe. The blood trickled across the concrete, the pool of blood becoming bigger by the second.

Eddie’s eyes found Buck’s.

The honey brown eyes that Buck loved so much were filled with fear yet were so empty at the same time.

It was almost as if Eddie knew no one would be able to come help him before he bled out- of course he knew, it was his job to know how to assess the situation and how much time someone had.

The ocean blue eyes that Eddie could stare into forever would be the last thing he saw.

Buck’s heart broke every second little by little, watching as Eddie’s eyes began to shut and how his hand shifted slightly, reaching towards him.

The moment Eddie’s eyes shut was the moment Buck went into overdrive. He pulled himself up. Buck could care less if there was a sniper somewhere.

Eddie needed him- he needed Eddie.

He dropped to his knees beside him, rolling Eddie onto his back. There was a patch of red against his face beside he had passed out face down in the pool of blood - the sight of him made Buck sick to his stomach.

“Eddie,” Buck patted his face, “Come on, wake up.” he calls and pulls the uniform shirt open. The hole was in his shoulder, his skin stained red.

Buck pulled him up towards him to feel behind his shoulder, trying to feel if there was an exit wound and there was - now it made sense as to why he bled out so fast.

It was just Eddie and Buck in the middle of the road. The truck parked to one side and the ambulances still in their spots. Buck holding and pressing on both sides of the wound would only do so much for Eddie.

He wasn’t a medic, he was trying his best and Buck's best was all Eddie had then because no one was coming.

No one moved an inch. Everyone was still hunkered down behind the trucks and the ambulances.

But then again, no one else loved Eddie the way Buck did.

“Eddie, come on.” Buck patted his face, the blood from his face smudging against the clean skin. “Eddie wake up, please” His voice broke at the end.

Maybe his best wasn’t enough.

He was getting in his head. He couldn’t do that, now wasn’t the time.

“Why are you all standing around?!” The change from sadness to anger was a quick one.

He knew Eddie wouldn't make it if he didn’t get some actual medical care. Then and only then did someone come running towards him. He didn’t know him but he was one of the paramedics on scene from before. The paramedic took over, Buck shifted to the other side of Eddie. His hand now stained red from the blood but he grabbed Eddie’s hand anyways.

Even if he wasn’t conscious, he needed him to know that he was there, that he had his back.

He watched as they loaded him onto the stretcher, moved him into the ambulance and he was there right by his side on the ride to the hospital.

The heavy feeling settling in his stomach, he was going to be sick. He didn’t feel like this when he found Maddie after Doug. He knew Maddie was gonna be okay although she was hurt but Eddie- he had lost so much blood, his skin was pale and the heart rate much slower than it should be.

Glancing down at his hand, Buck’s thumb rubbed gently over Eddie’s hand. He hadn’t let go except for when they lifted him onto the stretcher.

“Is that normal ?” eyes glued to the monitor, shifting down to the million and one wires attached to Eddie right now.

“He’s lost a lot of blood, his heart is just pumping slower than it would because of the lack of blood.”

In some way, Eddie looked peaceful.

Almost too peaceful.

The ambulance came to a stop, the doors opened and they began pulling the stretcher out. Buck follows them as they tell the doctor what happened.

The stretcher rolls into the surgery prep corridor, through the doors and Buck follows them in but no one seemed to notice that he wasn’t supposed to be there.

“Sir?” a nurse finally noticed him by the door as they removed the rest of the blood soaked clothes from Eddie.

“Sir?” they call once more, a hand gently touching his arm bringing him back to reality.

He turns, “you can’t be in here. We’ll take you to the waiting room.”

“No, no it’s- I know where it is.” he steps back from the room slowly just as they begin rolling the stretcher towards the OR.

There’s a phone ringing but Buck’s eyes are glued to Eddie. Soon enough he realizes it’s his phone.

There are splotches of red on the case from the splatters of blood that were everywhere. Everything on him was covered in blood.

“Hello ?”

“Buck, did you take the car?” Bobby’s voice rang through the phone.

“What?”

“You know, red one, says battalion 7 on the side ?” a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

“Oh uh- yeah sorry. I have to go get it” Buck had completely forgotten about the car, all his focus was on Eddie.

“Go get it? Where are you ?” Bobby’s voice is filled with concern and confusion.

“Hospital” he mumbles.

“Why?”

“Ed- Eddie was,” he let out a breath, “Eddie was shot. I um- I have to get the car, I’ll call you back.”

“No, Buck. Buck, listen to me- stay where you are. We’re on our way. Forget about the car.”

Before he could protest, Bobby hung up.

---

The waiting room was quiet, there was an older couple in there waiting for their grandbaby to arrive is what he deduced from their conversation.

“Buck?” Bobby called, he was first to step into the waiting room. Hen, Chimney and Maddie were following behind him.

Buck stood and turned to face them. The blood still splattered across his face, the red protruding against the white of the shirt. None of them knew that Buck was with Eddie, except for Chim but they hadn’t realized how close Eddie Buck must have been.

“Where is he?” Bobby asks, taking a seat beside the chair Buck was sitting in.

“Surgery, the nurse just came by and said it’ll be a little longer.”

Maddie pushes past Chimney, her arms open waiting for her little brother who on cue, falls into her arms. She held him as he sniffled, holding back the tears.

“It’s okay Buck, he’ll be okay.” Her hands lift his head from her shoulder, cupping his face. Her eyes studied him, his eyes red aside from the splatters- he had been crying before they showed up.

She knew her brother, she had taken care of him all her life.

“I know,” she gives him a sympathetic smile before Buck’s head falls back against her shoulder.

Maddie was there, she was holding him and Chimney was sitting across from them. “Where’s Jee?”

“With Mr and Mrs. Lee. Where’s Christopher ?”

“Chris.. Oh my god. Maddie, I-”

“Hey, it’s okay. I can call Carla and ask her to stay with him for the night”

“No, he’s-” Buck sniffled, “he’s with Eddie's grandmother. I- I don’t want to worry her”

“Let Carla pick him up, she can stay with him if she isn’t busy, okay ? If she is, I’ll go stay with him.”

“You’d do that ?” He asks, not that he was surprised because that’s who Maddie was- always helping someone but because she knew.

Maddie had always known Buck loved Eddie, more than in a friend way. Which friend helps the oher raise their kid ? Babysit him, have sleepovers, would go to the end of the earth for ? Not to mention when Buck told her about the first visit after the tsmanui with the whole “there’s nobody in this world I trust with my son more than you.”

They were in love with each other, they just haven't realized it yet or maybe they did, they just didn’t know what to say yet.

“You should be the one that’s here when he wakes up”

---

Over the next few hours, the waiting room thinned out. Chimney and Maddie left first, stopping to pick up Jee Yun from the Lees on the way home. Athena had a shift and she offered to call in and stay but Bobby said he’d call her with updates.

Bobby and Hen were the last 2 with Buck. Hen left shortly after Athena, she promised the kids to be home for dinner and said she’d be back in the morning to see Eddie.

And now it was just Bobby and Buck.

“Come on, let’s get you a clean shirt. If you're going to be the first one to see him when he gets out of surgery, a non-blood covered shirt would be nice.” He gets up, waiting for Buck to join him.

Bobby pulls Buck along with him to the gift shop in an attempt to find a shirt for him. Buck was following him around like a lost puppy, mopping as he went along. Bobby pulled a shirt from the rack. It was a bright pink shirt with bold bubble letters that read ‘it’s a girl!’ on it. Buck’s brows furrowed before shaking his head. Bobby let out a small chuckle before putting it back on the rack.

“One minute we were standing there, having a conversation and the next he was on the ground. I couldn’t do anything, I didn’t move, I couldn’t- I didn’t help him.” his voice breaking at the end of the sentence, his head tilted back looking up at the ceiling in hopes of getting rid of the tears now welling up in his eyes.

Not that Bobby hadn’t seen him emotional or crying but he felt like he needed to hold himself together because the little voice in the back of his head kept saying ‘that’s what Eddie would do.’

“Hey,” Bobby’s hand reaches out, holding Buck’s shoulder. “You did- you were the first one over there. You were by his side the whole way.”

He sniffles, the back of his hand coming up to wipe the falling tears away from his face. “I know but i just feel like I didn’t do enough, maybe if I reacted faster, if I just-”

“Hey, he’s alive Buck, because you reacted. So don’t, not even for a second, blame yourself for not getting over to him faster”

Buck nodded, he had always been grateful for Bobby and his guidance.

Bobby tossed a shirt at Buck, a blue one with the hospital logo - something for him to change into. Bobby stepped away when he got a call, Buck changed into the clean shirt. The two of them headed back towards the waiting room.

“I’ll be back in about an hour, I've got to take Harry to Michael and I’ll come right back. Will you be okay ?” Bobby’s hand rested on Buck’s shoulder once more. “Yeah, I’ll be here. Tell him I said hi”

There he was, alone in the hospital waiting room. He had never actually been in there off duty. He had always been on the other side of the doors, he was the one they were usually waiting for but not today.

Today he sat alone in the room, the terribly uncomfortable chair poking his side, the blinding effect of the white hospital lights.

There were so many things he wanted to say to Eddie. All things he had said before but it was his way of hoping that if he wished hard enough, Eddie would wake up and he would be able to tell him.

“You’re an amazing father.”

“One of the best firefighters i have ever met.”

“My best friend”

“The one I’m in love with.”

The realization of the fact that he was in love with Eddie hit him when he saw Eddie fall to the ground. Somewhere in him had always known but it hit him then and there. All the unsaid feelings and subtle moments of touches shared between them bubbled up the surface.

“Diaz ?” the doctor called, looking around to see if anyone was there. Buck stood, his hands wiping on his jeans.

“Yeah? Is he okay ?”

“There were some complications. The loss of blood was severe, we were able to stable him before removing the bullet which then revealed another bleeder. He crashed twice.” the doctor let out a sigh, the room was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. He was bracing himself for bad news.

“We weren’t able to save him. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

The words rang through his head. He stood there, looking at the doctor- frozen once again.

Buck was sick to his stomach, the urge to puke was masked by the urge to cry and scream. There were so many emotions, he didn;t know how to feel or what to do.

All he knew was that Eddie wasn’t coming back.

His best friend.

The man he thought was the love of his life.

The thought of not being able to tell Eddie how he felt never crossed his mind until that moment.

He’d never get a chance to tell him he loves- loved him.

That was the moment the world crumbled.