#i'm just so sad. if it's not true then i hope to GOD they figure out how to clear him swiftly but

[vannscooter]

+

[astrologylunadream]

What About You Makes Them Blush? 💝🥰🎀 (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

Hii it's Lunadream💞 Love is in the air so this will be a reading on everything about you that makes your person blush🥰✨️ hope you find your message💌

Notice: Only take what resonates because the most important thing is your own judgement!♡ If anything doesn't resonate, don't worry! It's not your message right now <3 (Entertainment purpose only. All rights reserved)

Now, shall we begin~? ^w^ Think of the your person, and pick whichever pile that fits the energy you're feeling~💖

Pile 1🎀

Pile 2🍓

Pile 3💌

Pile 4🫦

Take your time and choose carefully with the heart~♡

On to the readings —> 🩷

Pile 1🎀

Sign energy: Waves, Work place, Libra, Touch, Community, Venus, Cancer, Pluto, Water, 2nd house, 🎥🪞🛍🐭

💝Your person's energy: Aww you guys there's such soft energy in this pile, you and your person both omg🥺💞 Your person is SO good at maintaining relationships with other people, they are a true magic worker in their social circles.💬 I'm hearing "making waves" so yeah they're good at that, super kind and likeable. Getting water energy, Libra, Cancer, Scorpio, Taurus but also some indirect aquarius for some reason?? This person could have water signs in 3rd/7th/11th houses in their chart. Very charming soft allure to them, like a magnetic beauty of some kind.🌸✨️ Most of my pile 1's find this person very pretty🥰 Your person is so sweet and gentle with others, like they even touch people in such a soft way so comforting to be around😭 For some of you they have a very feminine/nurturing work environment, perhaps working around females or related to beauty. I'm picking up on some fashion/makeup related stuff take what resonates.🛍💋💖 Your person has a sweet voice, it's honestly so nice. Filming may be significant, beauty industry vibes~✨️ Their sense of style is amazing, they could enjoy shopping and trying on outfits.👚 Like seriously pile 1 your person is so aesthetic!! Mouse may be significant, maybe they find thay animal cute. They enjoy beauty routines and self care, it's no wonder they look so good🤯💕 Such lovely vibes from this person omg

🥰What about you makes them blush: Interpretation, Responsibility, Mindfulness, Venus, Self sabotage, Juno, 10th house, Leo, Uranus, 9th house,🙍‍♀️🤙🍷🩲 Interesting so maybe some of you know more about this person than you should..?😅😳 That makes your person blush a little since you have so much awareness about them and how they are, I'm getting maybe some of you have really figured this person out in some way.🔦🙊 Also your ability to analyze yourself makes them impressed, so they find it very attractive.🤭💗 Maybe you see yourself as something a little strange, they find it cute (omg). You have a lot of self worth and they love that lowkey, your poweful feminine energy no matter your gender is something they would find themselves blushing over.😳✨️Juno is here some of my pile 1's feel obligated to commit to this person, and that makes your person turn red in the cheeks! Your self awareness and determination makes them blush really. But also they have a soft spot for when you are Sad🥺 Your thighs and hair is something for them too. They feel there is really no one quite like you.❤️ This is a more specific message but for those of my pile 1's that are drinking age, maybe you have a high tolerance and that makes them blush??🍷🙈 They believe you would be very mature and responsible in your work/commitments, maybe you are very serious about your career/marriage/future plans. You radiate a bright lovely and self promoting energy that they just adore.😩💫 Your person may blush over how you're so special and the way you steal their attention.💗 Omg my pile 1's I am seeing your person blushing so much over you rn every little thing!!

💌Messages from your person: I would let you, I would do anything for you, It's not your fault, I promise, Oh my god, You might get hurt, Be careful, You will find happiness. (Maybe some of my pile 1's they're worried about you/don't want you to be hurt by anything rn🥺) Extra cards: Kabedon, Stay, Online, Tsundere, Block, North node, Moon, Leo, Venus, 2nd house (Someone really wants attention from you omg some of my pile 1's blocked this person on social media but only some. For others it's more emotionally guarding yourself from giving or recieving love from this person, but yeah they're really wanting to show you a soft love and admiration for you guys💗💗🥹)

Thank you my pile 1's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🍨✨️

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 1 with the bow emoji~🎀 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💝

Pile 2🍓

Sign energy: Win, Unexpected, Quiet, Jewelry, Remedy, Pluto, Capricorn, Taurus, Vertex, Fire, 🥰🕺🤧🎰

💝Your person's energy: Ooh powerful energy for your person✨️ Their presence speaks for them, like they don't even have to say much for everyone to go like, wow.😳😍 Lol for some of my pile 2's this person likes jewelry or accessorizing omggg, snazzy. Oh right so Scorpio, Capricorn, Taurus and fire signs in their chart. That combination of heavy earth +pluto is just🤌😩 Like seriously you guys your person is so fine. They may be more quiet or have a low voice, they aren't overly talkative or anything. They may spend a lot of money on rings, neck jewelry or earrings, I feel like it's very healing to them. Your person has a powerful aura and they may be surprisingly more intimidating than you think😳 It doesn't have to be but there is a high class/luxurious vibe to this pile's person.💼 Could be tall or act as if they are. For some of you this person has a successful business of their own on the side, I'm getting introvert vibes for some too. Chill vibe to them especially their voice. I feel like your person is unexpectedly a good dancer lol like you think they're not into that sort of thing and then the next thing you know they take you dancing and sweep you off your feet✨️🙈 Ohhh specific message but your person may have thing for gambling, this may be surprising to you guys. They like to win and this happens to them often with many things, but that'd also something they keep to themselves.🤫 My pile 2's may really love this person like you may be the one blushing rn haha🥰💖

🥰What about you makes them blush: August, Cinderella, Silence, Clench, Suspicion, 8th house, Pluto, Saturn, Earth, 6th house,🍑🆓️☁️🕯 Ahh omg🤩 So you have a really magnetic beauty they find themselves blushing over oml🥵 Like less is more for my pile 2's the less you say the more they fall for your silence!!🥹❤️‍🔥 Some of you the month august may be significant, any of my pile 2's born in fall?💗 Your person is low key obsessed with your ordinary qualities you don't think much of at all, like it could be a small little habit you don't even realize and then there's them over there blushing like crazy🙉💓‼️ I can see them start to sweat when they look a you, and like if there's an awkward silence between you both they will be so red omg😭🟥 Sometimes they feel like you have your head in the clouds when you stay silent haha like "what is pile 2 thinking right now?" They like how you try to ground yourself, maybe you meditate or take walks outside trying to connect with the universe and and they find that cute. Also they like figuring you out, so like if you seem mysterious like you have a bit of a secret it gets them smirking like "I bet I can figure pile 2 out" OMFG😰❤️ They blush just thinking about grabbing you and pulling you to them. Your dark/hidden side makes them blush but also..... your 🍑 A little obsessed that's all I'll say okay🥲 They like your fascination on tarot and spiritual topics. Oh and the way you get when you're determined about something, like you make up your mind and don't back down that would make them blush idk why but it's so cute😭🩷 Your person sees you as sort of a cinderella energy, maybe they hope you're the special one who they give everything to.✨️ Oh and if they catch themselves overthinking about you, their cheeks will turn red.🙉❤️ My pile 2's I'm loving this energy between you both!

💌Messages from your person: Just dance with me, I can't wait to meet you, We can't let anyone know, It's nice meeting you, Are you loyal to me? I'm worth it, How could you? How are you so calm? (Haha maybe your person is freaking out and you're just like mhm yeah I know😌💓) Extra cards: Treat, Cut, Impulsive, Reminder, Meant to be, Water, 9th house, Leo, 12th house, Air (Lol they wanna remind you that they feel this is meant to be between you both🥰)

Thank you my pile 2's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🍨✨️

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 2 with the strawberry emoji~🍓 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💝

Pile 3💌

Sign energy: Image, Valentine, Regret, Physical, Tangled, 10th house, North node, Venus, 9th house, 11th house, 🆓️☄️🔝😱

💝Your person's energy: Wow this person is a somebody for sure, they have a big image to keep up. Especially ties with their online persona and self promotion, maybe they are an influencer or have a successful social media.📱✨️ Signs for them are Capricorn, Libra, Taurus, Sagittarius and Aquarius in their chart. Valentines is a significant time (also the time I'm posting this haha cute💖) I feel like they were asked online to be their valentine, like recieving a lot of love from their socials. They are physically attractive and pretty😭💗💗 Ugh like they have such soft and lovely features, and the way they dress is so pleasing. They may travel a lot or get caught up in that often, maybe they have to study really hard? For some of you this person speaks many languages and gets confused a lot of times lol😂 So a message I'm getting is that they may have regrets already about their future may turn out, they want to top themselves but also they are afraid of crashing and burning🛬🔥 This stresses them out omg😥 Maybe they identify with the movie tangled from disney, you may view this person as your ideal valentine or someone you would want to spend valentines with.💓 They want to free themselves and may feel trapped (Omg and identifying with rapunzel on that one) so they just want their future to be bright and don't want to get caught up with everything that's holding them back from reaching the top.🥇✨️ They may be respected and admired at their work or online, my pile 3's are so attracted to this person!!😍💗 College may be significant, maybe your person is studying something hard right now. They want to be very successful I'm hearing.

🥰What about you makes them blush: Poker face, Style, Intimacy, Dominant, Tongue, Leo, Venus, 1st house, Libra, 12th house,💁‍♀️👇🟥🍒 So your person finds your clothing style and preference really beautiful💗 They like the way you dress, It makes them blush like "Wtf how is pile 3 so pretty??" Lol they love your soft aura and angelic presence.🪽✨️ So a lot of physical chemistry especially on intimate levels🥵 Your body has them more than just turning red🫣‼️ They are really into your face, body, tongue, also your chest they find very attractive. All that turns them super red omg like seriously the color is there😭❤️ The idea of dominating you has them blushing, like laying you down and yeah intimacy. Some of my pile 3's are Leo venus or Libra ascendant/Venus in 1st house.🌸 They like your facial expression and like especially ones with the tongue.😳 You grab their attention and it makes them blush omg, your feminine side also is something very attractive to them (No matter the gender).🌹 They want to touch you especially what they find attractive. Yeah they definitely find your whole appearance very appealing and physically attractive, they want to do things to you that is all I'm gonna say😭 You look good in the color red to them, literally you pull out their darkest side they weren't even aware of😳 They find you very cute like they may want to squish your cheeks, also they may dream of you and then wake up with rosy cheeks like aww pile 3🥰 Yeah they have romantic fantasies about you, especially dominating you, intense ones🥵. You give off a lovely shining energy and they also see you as their other half🩷 Yeah intimacy with you would make them blush, like a lot.

💌Messages from your person: I'm playing with fire, I get lost in your eyes, There's something between us, Say my name, I won't push you to do things you don't want to, I want to cheer you up, Don't look at anyone else, Please don't give up on me, I want to travel with you (Aww🥰😍) Extra cards: Romance, Cheeks, Anger, Final, Slide, Cancer, Taurus, Fire, Juno, Leo (Yeah lots of passion and romance in this pile omg💗)

Thank you my pile 3's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🍨✨️

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 3 with the love letter emoji~💌 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💝

Pile 4🫦

Sign energy: Certain, Break, Teeth, To the grave, Stress, 6th house, 9th house, Gemini, Capricorn, Pisces, 🎪👨‍🍳😎🏰

💝Your person's energy: I am getting workaholic vibes, maybe your person has a lot to do. They may have a stressful job or schedule, leading to success but also burdens on their mental health. Cooking may be significant to you or them, like traveling to try food is coming through for me.🛩🍳 Your person has a lot on their plate right now, it's funny because didn't I say for some of you food may be significant? LOL😂 They are intelligent and use their mind a lot, they are prone to overthinking aswell. They may travel to conventions often, it could be for their job or a hobby/interest of theirs.❤️ Signs for them are Virgo, Sagittarius, Gemini, Capricorn or Pisces in their chart. I don't know why but europe is coming to mind for some reason. Ah so your person wants to break their stressful routine and relax, they just want to forget all their worries and escape.🫥☁️ They may socialize with people often, they definitely think A LOT.💭 They may also sound like they're dead tired when they speak. This is more specific but maybe for some of you this person broke their tooth one time? Their teeth are noticable. They are very serious about their goals and tend to worry themselves often.💬💦 They tend to be realistic and forget to take breaks and indulge in the fantasy every once in a while. They are too strict with themselves I'm hearing "working themselves to death" omg like they need to take care of themselves😭 They do love travel and new experiences, they may want to visit a different country and have a fun vacation to clear their mind.✈️🗺💗

🥰What about you makes them blush: Breath, Intent, Despair, True feelings, Home, Moon, 2nd house, 1st house, Saturn, 9th house,😏🚀🦷👗 Ohh so they feel very emotionally connected to you guys, your comforting energy makes them blush omg🥺💗 You are their safe place that they can come to when they're stressed and not feeling well. You may be the voice of reason when they're down or anxious. Aww this is so sweet, you hugging them would make them blush so hard🫂💘 Like so soft and comforting to them, they love your nurturing side. When they are in despair you are their light.⭐️ Your physical appearance also makes them turn red, they would love seeing you in something nice like a dress.💎🥰 Your person is a little naughty for that actually, they wouldn't mind using their teeth to get what they want😳🥵 I see them making a little smirk when you two are alone together, that's all I will say for that one.🤐 If they ever feel your breath it calms them, they may want to feel your steady breathing as you are home to them. Your intentions for wanting them to feel better and care about them would make them blush a lot🥺💖💖 Also your neck and thighs have them smiling. Touching you probably skyrockets their heart rate, they may want to kiss your thighs and the thought of that makes their cheeks red🫢❤️‍🔥 Some of you may enjoy shopping and they find that cute. Oh my pile 4 this is a really sweet and romantic connection, I am seeing lots of lip biting on their mind lol (Which fits this pile perfectly with the lips haha). Your voice makes them blush, they just want your love and care because it's so good to them😩💘

💌Messages from your person: Do you still want this? You're my special someone, I saw it coming, Are you in love with them? You make me feel at home, I see your efforts, Tell me what's bothering you, You are my favorite song. (Aww pile 4 again you are home to them💖) Extra cards: Fantasy, Queen of hearts, Recover, One and only, Blossom, Scorpio, Uranus, Fire, 11th house, Pluto (You're like the omly fantasy they believe in omg. Yeah there is a lot of magnetic attraction to you guys seriously they're kinda hooked🤯❤️‍🔥)

Thank you my pile 4's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🍨✨️

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 4 with the lips emoji~🫦 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💝

Wanna see more readings like this? Check out my tumblr for accurate readings for you!💗🌊🌸

Thanks for reading! \(*^w^)/💌 -Lunadream <3

[wordsvomit101]

I would put him as a "sad old man" on my contact list if I were MC.

Sometimes I gotta be a bit petty for MC cause they don't do it for themself. Credits to @shyanimeboi and their friend on X: https://x.com/shyanimeboi/status/1795183592961655077/video/4

Warnings: Sexual content, complicated brainstorming about guilt and legacy.

Of course, you would say that- No but honestly, I would be pissed as hell if he said that to me directly, cause sir your brother lowkey put MC's parent on the news, made their friend see his ancestor temporarily, and then almost put them in the casket as well. It's a miracle that they do not blindly hate everything relating to angels at this point. (Although I'm glad that you at least find closure from it you dismal oldster ╮(─_─)╭)

It's a little heartwarming that he shows that he still loves his brothers a lot, given how he said: "traces that Gabriel is alive and well". It got me thinking about how it could very likely mean that he believes at some point in the future, either the other kings kill his brothers or Lucifer will have to choose between Hell (repentance) and his love for them when put in a corner he cannot back out, and with him being the Sin of Pride, I don't think he would either.

Also, if he is happy just by seeing the brand alone then his brothers either avoid attacking Paradise Lost personally or he didn't face them directly after he told off Michael more than 100 years ago and he did say that he "can no longer meet to ask how he is doing".

This first option seems like something Solomon would say. As his descendant, how MC presents themself in the daily chats and some of their options are probably the closest we get to see how Solomon would act when he was still around. An example would be how they question the goofy 3 rules policy in Paradise Lost that was set by the nobles, I will admit, I didn't think of that either. I was affected by the devoted behaviors of the nobles from both the event and the beginning of the prologue, in turn, I put Lucifer on an unreachable pedestal and I love that MC boldly questioned it and presented their opinions and rationale that bring Lucifer closer to the player and shows more air-headed sides to the nobles. They bring new perspectives and challenge the assumptions albeit in a small but significant way. I love it, I hope they do it more in the future.

He also finally said it, the holy words of every prideful bastard I know on media, "How dare you", it took 4 chats but we finally got here.

How he process his brothers' wrongdoings and his own? Very understandable and something, in my opinion, most victims would rather want to get from their offenders' family members, acceptance and acknowledgment of the issues and the damage that was done, and a genuine effort to do the right things. Familial love is very complicated, and it is… difficult to hate and condemn someone you come to love first naturally in your life. I think Lucifer, besides God (but also not really), first loves his brothers, probably the first angel to do so for their kind, and by reading the Seraphs’ comics it clearly shows how they either don’t care or hate each other guts yet still capable of loving Lucifer. He raised them, he's both their brother and their second parental figure, and he show them love outside of their devotion to God.

And how he addresses them in the chat, he calls each one of them a "child", he was being very quietly affectionate by focuses on their well-being when he saw the brand on MC. He also only does this with them and Gamigin, so it is clear how he sees them from a caretaker standpoint (the allegation of him being born in his 30s and raising his brothers is not so far-fetched now, honestly, he is the true dilf here, not God). He knows his brothers ruining other people's lives but when they turn around and love and treat him so dearly that it can feel like what they have done to others is an illusion.

When that illusion doesn't cloud his judgment and beliefs anymore? It will hurt and it can feel like his perception of his brothers are lie. It can be easy to deny the first time but since it happens again and again he has to accept the change and it ain't gonna feel great to realize how he is not the bystander here and directly or indirectly enable his brothers' atrocities (maybe join them in it too at some point, but this is just my thoughts). It gonna rewire how he views a lot of things and it gonna run back from the beginning to the current time, and with how long Lucifer lived? That's rough buddy.

Now, humans are insignificant in these guys' eyes and a single death is nothing to them in the vast universe, yes, but like Lucifer said, God made humans and with how he said it after that, humanity is a part of God's legacy. Legacy is fundamental to what it is to be human to many, something to be carved on their graves and will at the end of their time, it also helps people who live beyond them to remember and let their spirits or unconscious presence remain on the world. So despite humanity in the grand scheme of things, humans are still the work of God. By referring to God as "Our Father," besides asserting his connection, he also indirectly extends that connection to humans. It suggests a shared lineage and inherent value in all of God's creations.

If I interpret what Lucifer said correctly, then the duty of the Seraphim has always been to protect and care for all beings created by God, ensuring the preservation of His legacy. This duty encompasses all creations, whether great or small, beautiful or flawed. To destroy these creations and leave only themselves as His legacy would be a betrayal of their responsibility. A legacy, regardless of its nature, is not to be forcefully erased. Those who seek to erase it tarnish the very legacy they are meant to safeguard and were entrusted to honor.

So if they can't even accept all of God's legacy, no wonder why they can easily go hunt down every single child of one (1) man they are jealous of. Perhaps this is my speculation on what they did with Solomon, who seemed resigned to being forgotten by the devils in chapter 5. They sought to erase his entire bloodline, his descendants, and his legacy, ultimately aiming to make him extinct from the world (like how poachers do it toward endangered animals). For someone like Solomon, this, in my opinion, could be the most terrible fate for him. I honestly wouldn't put it past God's plan to make MC a part of this war for Solomon.

This option is more like the canon MC than the Solomon option from before. They felt more personal here in their anger.

The desensitization for guilt and emotional detachment is strong in this. Lucifer acknowledges the gravity and permanence of the sins he and his brothers have committed and accepts that he must coexist with his guilt and remorse, but how he goes around with it is mostly for himself. Lucifer mentions that he "voluntarily fell to Hell", a form of self-punishment despite his brothers' protests (but also calling Hell the starting point of sadness is wild cause honestly? Not that wrong, I can't see truly happy devils, and if there is, their development happened off-screen).

Lucifer’s remark that the MC is "not that meaningful enough yet" is his emotional detachment from others. His focus remains on his own internal experiences rather than on the perspectives or forgiveness of others. This detachment suggests that his pursuit of guilt is inward-focused, rather than being about seeking forgiveness or redemption through the eyes of others. Selfish and very prideful, very fitting for the Sin of Pride. The idea that Lucifer is almost addicted to the feeling of guilt points to a self-destructive aspect of his personality. It indicates that he may be using guilt as a way to continually punish himself or a way to keep feeling alive through suffering.

Now this leads to my next point:

Lucifer's search for guilt and remorse indicates a need for intense emotional experiences. Witnessing someone cry, especially if he has caused the tears, could provide a powerful emotional release or catharsis for him. This could momentarily alleviate his own feelings of guilt by transferring some of that emotional burden onto others.

Control. By inducing tears in others, he might be exerting a form of control that he lacks in his own life. This dynamic could satisfy a deep-seated need to reclaim some semblance of power over emotional outcomes.

Witnessing tears might serve as a mirror to his own inner turmoil. It externalizes the pain and suffering he feels internally, allowing him to confront it more tangibly. This externalization can create a twisted sense of connection or empathy, aligning with his need to constantly grapple with guilt.

Lucifer's enjoyment of seeing others cry could be intertwined with his own cycle of punishment and redemption. Inflicting emotional pain might be a way for him to project his self-loathing and need for atonement onto others. It creates a scenario where he can experience the aftermath of guilt without direct self-harm.

Causing others to cry could validate Lucifer's sense of guilt and reinforce his belief that he is deserving of punishment. This validation can be perversely satisfying, as it confirms his self-perception as someone who commits unforgivable sins.

Tears are often a sign of vulnerability. Seeing someone in a state of emotional rawness might create a sense of intimacy that Lucifer finds alluring. This intimacy could particularly appeal to someone who feels isolated by guilt and sins.

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

The reader was always the black sheep in the village because she was quiet, introverted and didn't like social contact, she would lock herself in her room and read tons of books... Disliked by her family, she didn't get much food, and since she had a lot of siblings, her parents preferred to feed her older and stronger siblings leaving the reader visibly malnourished. One day, the reader decides to run away from home during a snowstorm, but unfortunately she loses consciousness and wakes up on Donna's property. Donna makes friends with a shy reader and discovers her sad past. Donna understands the reader and notices that they have a lot in common!!

Yesss!!!!! Thanks for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :))))))

The weird, the lady, the doll

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff, insecurities…

Word count: 7,064

Summary: You wanted a better life...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours :))) I love you all!!!

Snow, all you could see around you was the color of snow. White in front of you, white behind you, on the sides, surrounding your weak figure as you made your way down an uncertain path.

Your weak legs told you that your decision had not been the right one, but your head encouraged you again and again to keep going. Your life was not going to improve by staying in the hell you called home, or rather, that your family called home.

An accident, a slip, something that wasn't planned, that's what you were in your family, the youngest of your siblings, the least of their worries. It was true that you were never worthy of such attention, why? Because you didn't even make an effort to get it.

Lonely, glued to your books, not talking to anyone, not wanting to. This is how you spent all those 20 years of your life, like a ghost, like the stories that spoke of a monster locked in a tower, a presence that had no importance, a useless girl who only took up room, and stole food.

But if your life were like in the stories, a miracle would have appeared sooner or later, a miracle that would get you out of the tower, that would make you value yourself as you deserved. The years passed, and that didn’t happen.

When you were 20 years old, your parents already thought that you were nothing but a burden, ha, as if they didn't think that way before. The food that arrived in that dark corner that was your room was becoming less and less. Your brothers needed more food, you didn't need strength to read; arguments that only emphasized more your family's wish for you not to exist, for the story that was your life to be just that, a story.

Nothing was waiting for you on the other side of the door, no one was going to rescue you from dying of hunger, no one was going to miss you. If so, why not make things easier for your family? That same afternoon you gave wings to the thought that invaded your mind daily, what would happen if you didn't exist?

You weren't looking for anything. Nothing would be a greater reward than getting out of there. You just wanted to disappear, to be guided by the wind to a place where perhaps you would stop feeling like a nuisance, ideally far from the village.

Everything about the cult, about Mother Miranda, the Lords... Everything only served so your pale skin would be blessed with a few rays of sunshine. The masses in which your parents surely asked the Black Gods that the little strength you had left be passed on to your brothers, were the only moments in which you were aware that you were part of a whole, and not a single being locked in a room.

Your desperation, the desire to live your introverted existence in solitude, without feeling like an obstacle to the happiness of others, made you so desperate that even you began to pray.

You weren't praying for the food that was taken from you, you were praying to be able to fade away, to be able to disappear from that place and wake up to something that didn't seem like a continuous nightmare. Maybe that storm was the answer to your prayers.

With that thought, perhaps illusory, that the Gods took pity on you, you took the few possessions they allowed you to have, your favorite books, and left that place, hoping to never return.

But the Black Gods were not merciful and your weak steps were lost in the storm. As you walked, your bones ached, your vision blurred. Maybe it wasn't your prayers that were heard. Maybe it was your family's.

For a moment you wanted to go back, but it was too late. The color white, a symbol of purity and goodness, surrounded your sad figure, cutting your skin as if they were blades. You didn't know where you were, or where you were going.

The darkness of the trees acted as a guide. You stopped at each one of them. The white did not stop harassing you, the pain in your legs made you stagger. You couldn't stop, but on the other hand, you wanted to. Maybe you would merge with that white. Your existence would be buried by snow, maybe that was the authentic prayer that the Black Gods were willing to fulfill.

But a wave of rage woke you up from your sad reverie, from your desire to give up. With a grunt, you continued walking, swinging dangerously across an old wooden bridge. Maybe you had already succumbed to hunger. Maybe that was the bridge to the other world. But no, the blades continued to torment you, the wind rocked the wood to scare you. It was a test of courage. Too bad you never had it.

The wood creaked beneath your feet, icy blades traveling towards your skin. It was the end of your journey, or so you thought. The end of the path made its way thanks to a coincidence that caused the color white to disperse. Maybe all was not lost. Maybe that path would take you forever out of the village.

With a jump, you climbed onto dry land, stumbling in the process, forcing your body to crawl. White continued to predominate, your audacity continued to be punished. A red spot stood out among the snow. Your leg had been injured in that last gesture of bravery. You couldn't walk. You didn't have the strength to endure the pain either. You were hungry, and cold.

With your injured hands you crawled on the ground, in a last effort to take refuge in the trunk of a tree. With a groan of pain, you dug your back into the wood and squeezed your eyes shut. Hunger roared in your gut, the cold made you shiver. The end was approaching and your head turned towards what looked like a metal fence, elegantly guarded by two stone angels. It couldn't be Heaven, it wasn't cold in Heaven.

“(Y/N)...” a voice that came from nowhere made you open your eyes. White, just white. Your breathing calmed down with the sound of what was once your older sister, the only one who loved you and who left your home when she got married, to never return.

“Katia...” you whispered with a completely broken voice, cracked by the shivering of your teeth and the stinging of your leg. You couldn't see her, but you knew she was somewhere. “Help me…”

Silence, the sound of the wind was her response.

“(Y/N), can you help me with my homework?” another sweet voice spoke in your sister's place. Oh yes, that companion of yours who was always with you before she disappeared, your first love. Yes, you could have gotten married to escape your family, but even that couldn't be normal. You were always attracted to women and that led to hitting, screaming and many hungry nights.

The books said that when you die, your whole life goes through your mind. Maybe that's what you were feeling at that moment, but you just continued to suffer.

Exhaustion hit you suddenly, blood gushed from your wound and the voices stopped. Your eyes could no longer see the white color that surrounded your dying body. They could only see your frozen hands closing in on themselves reflecting your failure in trying to have a better life.

You sighed in defeat, looking up at the sky, looking at the only thing your eyes were able to see, those snowflakes falling on you without getting into your skin. The storm had subsided, or so it seemed.

Talking was never your strong point, and you refused to say any last words. No one could hear them, or so you thought. Something in front of you caught your attention. Your vision was blurry but something stood out among the snow, something black, maybe Death itself?

That black figure would have passed through the white color, blurred. Black, just black walked towards you slowly, with a mysterious air. Maybe the grim reaper wanted you to confess your sins, but even in that situation you were not capable of doing so.

You simply denied that glance at the strange figure, closing your eyes, letting exhaustion take over you. Before you left completely, you noticed something on your shoulder, could it be the claws of death? Have a nice trip, (Y/N)...

Your head felt heavy as the darkness embraced you. You didn't feel cold anymore, just warmth, a relief from that horrible cold. Maybe it was the dark path of death. Maybe that black figure was leading you to your final judgment. But it wasn't the glow of the beyond that your half-open eyes saw, it was a dark room.

Your entire body was shaking under what looked like sheets. It didn't look like your shroud, it looked like a bed, a real one. You didn't see the dark branches of the Black Gods, there were no heavenly songs to welcome you, above you, there was only something terrifying.

A doll, a sinister doll was watching you from too close occupying your entire range of vision. Your heart raced but your muscles tensed preventing you from moving. The puppet watched you, tilting her head like a puppy, gasping in surprise when she saw you open your eyes completely.

“Oh, oh, oh... She's awake...” she hummed, making you grab the sheets in shock. You still had a hard time thinking clearly. You could only see a simple doll talking, something that shouldn't be happening.

The puppet moved a little closer to your frightened body and then got off the bed with a funny movement.

“Donna! Donna! She has woken up!” she yelled with a voice that made you grimace, almost covering your ears from the horrible impression. The doll ran towards the exit of that small room and you began to get more scared.

Quietly, alone, you sat on the bed with a groan of effort. Something tugged at your leg and you threw off the covers to find out what.

Little by little the memories came to your mind. You remembered that horrible wound you got on your leg, now hidden by a white bandage. It hurt, but it wasn't the same pain it had been... Well, you didn't know how long it had been.

Your eyes ran down your thin leg, healed by something you couldn't understand. Your gaze ran over your old clothes stained with the blood from your wounds. More bandages pulled at your skin, on your arm, on your fingers. You didn't look like you were dead, but you didn't feel alive either. Hell? It didn't seem like it. Nor did the dim darkness of that room resemble what you had read about Heaven.

So... Where were you? Who was that talking doll?

In your state of shock, you could slowly hear sounds that reminded you that you were alive: the creaking of wood, the sound of the wind hitting the windows, a terrifying and comforting atmosphere at the same time.

“Where…?” you whispered, your voice hoarse, listless, as if it had forgotten to function, as if even your body had assumed this was the end of you.

Your vague words were interrupted by other sounds, by footsteps approaching you, walking slowly towards the door. Desperate and scared, you looked for some kind of shelter, but pain, hunger and exhaustion prevented you from even considering that option.

Your breathing was nervous, your chest hurt every time it rose and fell. The creak of the door opening was like a signal that put all your senses on high alert.

That black figure, the one similar to death, slowly entered the room. It was not death, but a woman in mourning, a black dress, black veil, a shadow that walked slowly towards you.

Next to her, that terrible puppet jumping up and down, climbing onto the bed again, making you retreat sharply.

“You see? Look, look, the girl is alive,” the doll hummed in a satisfied tone.

The woman stopped next to your bed. You couldn't know exactly, but you could sense that unknown eyes were looking at you through that black veil. She was like a ghost, you couldn't even tell if that woman was really there, or if she was a figment of your imagination.

You couldn't speak, you didn't want to speak. You were scared, terrified by the puppet, inhibited by that authoritarian black figure. A part of your head caught your attention, as if it wanted to tell you something, as if by chance something was escaping you.

“Hello, hello, hello, hello,” the doll said, speaking directly to you, preventing something important from slipping through your thoughts, something that your mind wanted you to remember.

You opened your eyes wide, still scared, trying not to look at the puppet's sinister face.

“Let's see, let's see, let's see...” the doll murmured, walking to both sides of the bed. The lady still didn't take her eyes off yours. “Who are you?”

You didn't respond. You just stood contemplating the environment around you, with a strange feeling, with those thoughts that seemed to scream to be heard.

“Hello? Anyone there?” the puppet insisted, hitting your head with her wooden hands and shrugging her shoulders when, again, silence was your response. “This girl doesn't speak.”

The woman looked at the doll with a slow gesture, crossing her hands in front of her body, it seemed like she was sighing.

You, with wide open eyes, painfully brought your knees to your chest, thus hiding your fear, covering yourself from any danger. You still didn't know why, but everything that situation told you it was precisely that: danger.

“Are you mute? Deaf? What kind of problem do you have, silly girl?” the doll asked, clearly annoyed by your defensive and shy attitude.

You shook your head, hoping it was enough of a gesture for the puppet to stop harassing you with simple, but overwhelming questions.

“No? No, what?” she asked when she saw you shake your head. “Hey, you should show some gratitude to whoever saved your stupid life.”

Those words made you resent the pain, making you look again at your bandaged leg, at your healed wounds. No, there was no way it had been the puppet. That only left you one option, the lady in black.

You turned your head to look at the woman, who was breathing slowly, with an expectant pose, as if somehow she was as impatient as the doll to hear your answers.

“Have you saved my life?” you murmured in a tone so low that you feared you would have to repeat it again. Fortunately, that weak voice reached the ears of the woman who nodded slowly, with an elegant gesture.

“What do you mean with this simple you?” the doll protested, jumping on top of you, making you moan in pain from your injuries. “Show some respect, stupid mortal, do you know who you are talking to?” she rebuked you with a harsh tone. The lady didn't move and you started sweating when you realized it.

Somehow, your mind cleared, letting you know where you had seen that black figure before. The church, a priestess, Miranda, four Lords. Among them, a dark lady of dark presence. That dress, that veil. There could be no doubt, Donna Beneviento.

That authoritarian figure who sat to the right of Mother Miranda, ensuring that you, faithful villagers, remained calm. You never heard her speak, you never gave it importance.

Despite that, she was known in the village, precisely because of the evanescence of her existence. Lonely, sick, psychopathic, nothing good could be heard about her, a tormented woman, a black veil that hid the jaws of a monster ready to devour your body, to drink your blood. There was nothing you could do to prevent those images from crossing your mind when you had her that close. She didn't look like a monster. She saved your life, maybe to devour you later?

“Gods...” you murmured involuntarily, clasping your hands, closing your eyes tightly, bowing your head as a sign of respect. “La, La, La, Lady… Be, Be, Be, Beneviento…”

“Oh, so your memory has awakened, huh?” the doll joked, whose name you now remembered, Angie.

“I'm, I'm, I'm sorry... I'm not, no, no,” you stammered. Oh, how pathetic, you didn't even know what you wanted to say, if you wanted to apologize, or on the contrary beg for your life. “I, I, I, I'm sorry, I... My, my lady, I... I, I...”

“Eh, eh, eh, enough, we're not in church,” Angie complained, probably because of your meaningless babbling, one that made you tremble even more, wondering what your horrible fate would be.

“I, I'm sorry...” you murmured, clasping your hands even tighter, causing terrible pain in your wounds. With a strong smack, the doll separated them, causing you to moan in pain again.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” the puppet mocked, imitating your voice with a grace that would have been funny if it weren't for the situation you found yourself in. “Shut up now, silly.”

You obeyed, nodding profusely, letting a tear of terror and despair slide down your cheek.

“Tell me what your name is,” that voice was different, hoarse, velvety. It hadn't been the doll. It had come from the direction where Lady Beneviento was.

Your voice didn't seem to want to come out, but you forced it to. You couldn't die that way.

“My name is... (Y/N),” you murmured, trembling, with your breathing complicating the tranquility you wanted to feign.

She nodded slowly, without speaking.

“What, what am I doing here?” you dared to ask after a tense silence, one that scared you more than that doll. The lady in black looked at the puppet, which seemed to come to life with that look.

“Ahem, ahem, everyone pay attention, can you hear me in the background?” she said comically, as if she were starting some kind of show. “Okay, okay, I'm going to tell you the story of (Y/N), the silly girl who left her house in the middle of a storm. Well, well, it turns out that... Anyway, let's get to the point. That silly girl named (Y/N) appeared half dead in our territory. The end.”

You blinked after that brief explanation. That wasn't your question. The memories were slowly coming back to your mind. The question was, why had she saved you?

“I don't... I don't understand...” you whispered, running a hand over your forehead, noticing how the sweat betrayed your fear.

“What you don’t understand?” Angie asked, annoyed by your erratic behavior.

“I don't understand what I'm doing here, or where I am,” you said with a firmer tone, noticing how, surprisingly, you had an easier time speaking. It would be the adrenaline.

“You're in our house, silly girl. Donna saved you from freezing to death,” the doll explained, without meaning to do so, of course, crossing her arms. Your gaze was once again direct to the lady in black, to that powerful and dangerous Lord.

“Why?” you asked automatically. No, she couldn't take pity on a stupid villager like you. It didn't make sense. The dark figure shrugged, making your body nervous.

“Do I seem to know it?” Angie said, making the same gesture as her owner. “I guess she felt sorry for you.”

You nodded, wanting to thank her in a discreet way. Deep down you knew you weren't safe.

“Are you hungry?” Again, again that hoarse voice whispering through that black fabric. You shook your head, faking it in the worst way possible, as your stomach gave you away by growling indiscreetly.

Donna nodded slowly again, turning and walking towards the door, sparing one last look at the puppet, who stood up in a kind of military salute.

“At your command, ma'am, the girl will not move from here, ma'am,” she said comically, leaning over you, pretending she was watching you.

After a while of silence, under the doll's uncomfortable gaze, the door opened again. The lady carried in her arms a small tray with a steaming plate that caught your attention instantly. You hadn't eaten for more than two days.

“Look how nice, she brings you dinner in bed, then you'll complain about the service,” Angie joked, moving away from you so the lady could leave that bowl of soup in front of you, handing you a spoon.

You looked at it eagerly, but your instincts forced you not to sink the spoon into the plate, to keep yourself safe from any trap.

“But what are you doing, silly? Eat,” Angie snapped, moving your hand to guide the cutlery.

You hesitated, looking at the lady waiting expectantly at your side. Her breathing was the only thing that didn't make her look like a ghost. After a moment, you lifted a spoonful to your mouth, feeling the comforting warmth of that soup and its delicious flavor.

You devoured that dish eagerly, under the watchful gaze of the doll and lady, unconscious of their presence due to hunger.

“Wow, wow, we were hungry, huh?” the doll mocked, looking at the already empty plate.

“Angie, leave,” that soft, low, almost inaudible voice said. The doll obeyed instantly, leaving you alone. The fear inside you increased considerably.

The lady moved the tray away on a nearby table and pulled a chair to the side of your bed, sitting elegantly, looking at you, you didn't know how, you couldn't tell.

Your body automatically shrunk, moving as far away from Donna as possible, not wanting to be close to her, expecting the worst. It never came, just a sigh after an eternity of silence.

“Why did you want to die?” the lady asked, breaking you out of your fear, making you turn your eyes towards her, making you shrink even more into yourself, shaking your head. “I don't like to talk either, but I think it's nice to answer when someone asks you a question, don't you think?”

“I didn't want to die,” you whispered, you understood that phrase as a veiled threat.

“You have left your house in the middle of a storm, you have crossed the bridge, you have entered my territory. I guess you know what happens when someone does that,” she said with that melodic voice, with that accent that was unknown to you.

“Yes, my lady,” you answered tiredly, with your heartbeat sounding louder than your own voice.

“Mm, then, why?” she asked again. The tone of her voice revealed that it was not comfortable for her to communicate with you at all. You almost preferred the doll's irreverence to that somber voice.

“Why haven't you killed me like the others?” you responded, gaining confidence, taking advantage of the weakness that you also had, an extreme shyness and no desire to socialize.

“Is that what you wanted?” she asked back, with a more aggressive tone.

“No,” you answered in a dry tone, looking away, hissing at the throbbing pain in your leg.

“Then speak. What were you doing in my territory?” she asked again, getting nervous, playing with her hands surely preventing her nerves from ruining this attempt at conversation.

“I got lost,” you whispered, looking away again, remembering the color white, the cold, the pain, the hunger...

“You got lost,” she repeated, with a dark voice, as if she didn't believe your words.

“I just wanted to... Escape...” you finally said, gripping the sheets tightly. “…To leave this damn village.”

“Oh, and why is that?” she wanted to know, relaxing the movement of her hands.

“Because...” you said, shutting up instantly, surpassing your ability to communicate clearly, lying on the bed and covering yourself with the sheets, hoping that this dangerous woman would take the hint.

A sigh preceded the sound of the chair moving, the feeling of her arms picking up the empty tray, the sound of her heels moving away from you, the slamming of the door, leaving you in the most absolute but comfortable solitude.

Sleep and fatigue had been stronger than your survival instinct, perhaps a few hours of sleep would help you clear your mind.

“What is this, silly?” the doll asked, rummaging through your old backpack.

The day had started strange. When you woke up, you had breakfast served on your nightstand. You didn't see the lady all morning, but, fortunately or unfortunately, the doll began to keep you company.

“Those are my books,” you whispered, snatching the object from her in a defensive manner. Those were your only friends, your only companions.

“Oh. Do you like to read?” Angie asked, with that sinister curiosity.

You nodded, shielding your things from those cheeky wooden hands.

“Donna likes to read too,” Angie said, with a listless voice, reaching into your backpack again. “Oh, oh, what is this?” she said, taking out a small doll, your small doll, the one that your sister Katia gave you when you were little, the one that served as a reminder that your sister really existed, and was not a creation of your head when you felt so alone.

“Give me that,” you protested, stretching your arms to reach the doll. Angie was faster than you, and she dodged you with a mocking laugh.

“No, no, take it from me if you can,” she taunted, dancing comically out of your reach, your beloved doll held in a way that made you burn with rage.

“Basta, Angie,” a voice that came through the door hissed, Donna. The doll stopped teasing and the lady in black bent down to pick up the doll and look at it curiously, sitting back down in the chair next to you.

You flinched again, still scared by her presence.

“Mm,” the lady murmured, observing that doll closely. “Double stitched dress, fog gray tone. Two days of manufacturing, pale color. If I'm not mistaken, it has to be...” she whispered, to herself, folding the doll's dress, noticing a number written on the porcelain. “Yes, number 345.”

After saying those numbers, her hands reached out to you, returning you to your dear companion, which you took with trembling hands and a frown.

“It's funny, I made that doll more than 15 years ago,” she commented, relaxing in the chair, without taking that mysterious look off of you.

“You... Did you make this doll?” you asked with a hoarse voice, looking at the porcelain face, one worn by time. The lady nodded slowly, sighing, as if she too was nervous. You didn't understand why.

“Yes,” she replied coldly, crossing her arms. “It was a commission from a certain Nikolai Dinovic, for her little daughter Katia. Do those names sound familiar to you? Or are you a little thief?”

“I'm not a thief,” you protested carelessly. You could be anything, but you never stopped being honest, not even when you were starving. “Katia was my sister.”

“Your sister,” the lady repeated, moving, uncomfortable again, nervous.

You nodded again, confused by this strange attitude.

“I have always been lucky to have a good memory, (Y/N). I'm afraid I didn't know the Dinovic family had another daughter,” she said with an inquisitive, distrustful voice.

You were not surprised by that information at all.

“I guess so,” you sighed, squeezing the doll in your hands.

“Are you some kind of impersonator? Have you come to kill me?” she asked suddenly, with a gruff voice, clenching her fists tightly, until her knuckles turned the color of snow.

“No, no,” you said, scared by that reaction.

“How do you explain that I don't know anything about your existence then? Speak,” she said with a demanding tone, surely suppressing the urge to suffocate you.

“Not even I'm sure I really exist,” you confessed with a low voice, with fearful sweat soaking your forehead again.

“Sciocchezze...” the lady murmured, with that same somber tone. “Explain yourself before I lose my patience.”

Your desire to flee from that place contrasted with the fear you had. You wouldn't gain a better life by confessing your miserable existence, but you wouldn't lose more than what you had at the time, a roof over your head from the cold.

“I'm not surprised you don't know anything about me, no one does,” you said in a low tone, looking away from her. “I was never treated like a member of the family.”

“Mm,” Donna murmured, giving you pause to continue.

“My... My brothers are the strongest in the village, or so they say, but I... I'm no good for anything,” you said, noticing how your eyes began to water. “Since I was little I was misunderstood. I didn't want to talk to anyone… I didn't love anyone other than my sister Katia. When she left I… I closed more into myself…. I... I will never be what they expect.”

“So what do they expect?” she asked, with a dark tone, but a bit softer. You shrugged, playing with the doll in your hand.

“I suppose someone who doesn't spend the day reading books, someone who is capable of getting married, or at least not being so...”

“Weird,” the lady finished, making you sob and wipe your tears. “I see, that's why you escaped.”

You could only nod.

“Mm, very well, weird girl, you can stay here until you recover. If you want to leave before... Well, I'm not going to stop you, but that will mean death for you and you don't want that, or so you told me,” the lady commented, getting up from the chair, picking up the book that you had on the table, taking a quick look at it before abandoning you again.

The days passed slowly.

Your leg was getting better and better, you even had the strength to walk. Donna fed you, she kept you strong, you didn't know why, but you stopped wondering. With each of the trays of food that she brought you, there was an extra gift, a book, each time a different one. A kind and unexpected gesture, but it didn't surprise you. After all, she had saved your life. That was the strangest thing of all.

With your spirits still low, but with more desire to live than ever, you began to feel more and more comfortable. The lady's visits were limited to mealtimes, but the words that came out of her mouth were more and more frequent. You assumed that once your identity was known, you were no longer a threat. You understood that feeling, you thought the same way.

 Did you really have as many things in common as you began to think?

“Get up, weird girl, you're coming with me,” the lady said one day, leaning out of your door, interrupting one of your quiet moments of reading.

You, trembling at what that order might imply, obeyed, leaning on an old crutch to help you walk. You never really got to see that house, just the top floor. Your clumsy walk down the stairs made you notice a detail that you had overlooked: that portrait, the portrait of a beautiful woman, with cold eyes, with that puppet in her arms. Your mouth opened slightly, as if to ask the lady if it was her.

You regretted doing so, continuing your descent, without taking your eyes off that cold gaze.

Walking in silence, you went further down, to the basement, to a sinister room that looked like a kind of workshop, her workshop.

“Sit down,” the lady ordered you, pointing to a chair abruptly, as if she herself wasn't sure what she was doing. You nodded, walking slowly and obeying that direct order. “Do you know how to sew, weird girl?”

“I…” you stammered as she sat down next to you, leaning closer to an old sewing machine. “A, a little.”

“Va bene... I guess that will do,” she commented, looking at some pieces of fabric and a needle, which she handed you roughly. “I want you to sew those tissues. I know it's a simple thing, but I waste too much time doing it and... Well, since you're here, sleeping and eating for free, at least you'll be useful to me.”

You, embarrassed by the harsh truth of those words, looked at the pattern book that Donna left on the table and nodded, threading the needle with trembling hands.

The two of you sewed in silence, a heavy silence, interrupted by your nervous breathing, by the noises of that old machine.

“Ouch...” you protested, when the needle sank into your flesh instead of the fabric. Without meaning to, you had diverted your gaze to the visible part of her face. You had been hypnotized for some reason.

That moan caught the attention of the lady, who abruptly grabbed your hand to look at your wound with a tired sigh.

“You clumsy girl,” she murmured in a discreet, but slightly unpleasant voice, which made you shrink in the chair.

“I'm sorry,” you said with a broken voice, while the softness of her hands caressed yours, putting them in a position that prevented you from sticking the needle into yourself again.

The trembling of your hands didn't go unnoticed by Donna, who snorted with a nervous laugh, turning away from you instantly and shaking her head.

“You have no idea...” she sighed, returning to her wrists, with a tone of mockery, or annoyance that made you freeze in the chair. “You think you're weird, huh? How did you say... A misunderstood girl?”

“I...” you stammered, trying not to tear the fabric out of your nervousness, not understanding that question so out of context.

“You're stupid, (Y/N),” Donna growled, stopping sewing, piercing your chest with one of those mysterious looks.

That made your pent-up anger come out in the form of a nervous gasp.

“Why are you telling those things to me?!” you shouted, standing up abruptly, offended by the contempt the lady was making of your miserable life.

“You don't know what it's like to be alone in this world, to have your entire family despise you, to live alone and malnourished because it seemed like a waste of time and food to my stupid parents. How can someone who doesn't know what it's like to lose everything, to not believe in her own existence make fun of me?” you continued.

“Wow, it seems like you want to talk now, weird girl, but I advise you to tone it down a bit,” she said, mockingly, crossing her arms in a threatening manner.

“Don't laugh at me...” you hissed, risking your fragile existence again. You forgot who you were talking to. “What do you know about my life?”

“I know enough,” she responded dryly, abruptly “Poor helpless girl who is alone in this world, who thinks she is special because she likes to read... You have no idea what suffering is. You are a whiny and capricious girl who has left home because she didn't like being the weakest in her family.”

“You don't know what it's like to be ignored by your own family! To be the black sheep of the village! To go hungry because your life is not important to the people who are supposed to love you!”

“Oh, I don’t know?” she said, defiantly, getting up from the chair, facing you.

“No, you don’t” you responded furiously, not understanding this very different treatment, far from that strange kindness from the beginning.

“Do you know something, (Y/N)? I think you're wrong about me,” Donna murmured, her hands on her hips, relaxing her tone mysteriously.

“You are wrong about me too,” you responded defiantly, with a confidence that you thought did not exist.

“Idiota,” she said before sitting down again.

“I'm not an idiot!” you screamed furiously, making your screams echo off the stone walls of the old workshop.

“Aren’t you? Che cosa siete?” she asked, with that dark tone that made you shiver.

“I'm... I'm... (Y/N),” you said with a guttural voice, just as dark as hers. “I may not be a strong or brave girl. I may not like people, all people ignore me but…”

“But,” she interrupted.

“But it's because they don't know that I'm really better than them...”

“Oh.”

“Yes, I... I may be weird, but at least I'm not stupidly ignorant, at least I refuse to follow the path that is expected of me, a path of no return, where my life will end just like my sister's. No, I never wanted that for myself, I want to be... I just want to be... Free.”

“Mm, it wasn't that hard to believe in yourself, right?” Donna murmured, returning to her sewing, leaving you glued to the floor. “You know what? I guess you and me aren't so different after all.”

“You must be kidding,” you murmured, surprised, but with your eyes on the floor, letting yourself fall back into the chair.

“Are you calling me a liar?” she rebuked you with that terrifying abruptness.

You shook your head, overwhelmed, wanting to disappear from that place.

“You say you don't know what it's like to be alone...” she said in a lower tone, almost a whisper. “I have been alone all my life. My parents died when I was ten years old, I never had friends. I never talked to anyone. Do you think you're unlucky? That's because you've never known what it feels like to have everyone you approach trembling with fear.”

“I don't...” you said, surprised by that confession, thus understanding the lady's attitude.

“Stai zitto and keep sewing. I’m tired of hearing your voice.”

“I’m tired of being with you,” you growled, making the lady turn towards you, but continue sewing moments later.

Your relationship may have been tense, with those small problems that her actions revealed, but deep down, you were starting to feel a little... Well, you didn't know, you didn't know why her presence was increasingly appreciated by you.

“Why you don’t you leave? You can walk now,” the lady commented, pretending that she was ignoring you.

“I was hoping you would say that,” you said, ironic as ever, outgoing as you had never been.

“Okay, leave, then.”

“Fine,” you said, leaving the sewing supplies on the table and getting up awkwardly from the chair. “Thanks for everything.”

“You're welcome, weird girl,” Donna murmured, with trembling hands, with a voice that didn’t express the passivity her words intended.

“I'm not a weird girl,” you said, turning around awkwardly with the help of the crutch.

“That's what you said,” Donna said, getting up from the chair and walking slowly towards you.

“I don't think that way anymore,” you confirmed, after her insults made you see the reality of your existence, only you had not yet realized that it was thanks to Donna and her erratic attitude. Maybe it hadn't been a coincidence.

“Well, I'm glad to hear it,” she commented, amused, joining her hands in front of her body, like the first day you were in that mansion.

“I... Really, thank you, for saving my life,” you repeated in a calmer tone. “And for, well, for… For that.”

“For what?” she asked, tilting her head comically, pretending she didn't know what you were talking about.

“I know you don't think those horrible things you've said to me,” you whispered, also getting a little closer.

“You are weird, but observant, (Y/N),” she murmured with a slightly mocking tone, but without stopping walking towards you. “I really hope you can find your place out there. At least you can do it.”

“I don't understand you, Donna,” you said, shaking your head, confused by the melancholy that her words emanated.

“What you don’t understand?” she asked, already close, too close to you.

“You are supposed to be scary, terrifying but... These days have been... well, totally different from what I expected. First, you save my life, you feed me, you offer me shelter... Then, you see that I like to read and you bring me a different book every day. You didn't have to do it and still, you did it, and on top of that you help me to overcome my complexes.”

“I may have simply seen something of myself in you, (Y/N). Or maybe I'm just as crazy in the head as they say,” Donna whispered slowly, extending her hand towards yours, making the trembling of your body return in a slightly stranger way.

“No, I don't think so,” you said, letting her hand hold yours. “I don't think you are what people say.”

“No?” she asked, moving away from you a bit, letting your hand fall and bringing hers to her face, to her black veil, slowly removing it, thus revealing her true face. “What do you think about this?”

You looked at her, your eyes roaming over her features, her undeniable beauty, that scar that seemed to be the cause of her shame. You then had another revelation, you had the sensation that your leg was weakening again, as if it had not completely healed.

“It seems to me...” you murmured, involuntarily getting closer, remembering those cold eyes from the portrait on the stairs.

“A monster, right?” she said, her eye shining.

“No... I, I don't think I want to leave.”

“I don't want you to leave,” she whispered, also approaching, raising her hands to your face while yours traveled to her waist.

“I won't leave,” you said, closing your eyes, moving closer to her lips, unable to contain the desire for her to be your first kiss, also your last.

“Stay with me...” Donna said, before daring to close the distance between you, placing her lips on yours, confirming the clumsiness of the inexperience of her actions, the clumsiness of yours, the romanticism of those new caresses for both of us, of that feeling that had been slowly blooming for a long time, in a way so subtle and imperceptible that only with that kiss you could understand.

“I want you to be my weird girl...” she murmured into your lips, not wanting to stop kissing you, caressing you, praising you with that affection so unknown, and so desired for you.

“I will be whatever you want, only with you...”

[rafferty3207]

not to be impatient or ungrateful but too good to be true part 3 when 😩

its funny you say that today of all days bestie

Too Good to Be True (part three)

warning: fem!reader, passing mention of creepy dude, angst (but only at the beginning dw), then tooth rotting fluff

A/N: I hope you like this ending! in my mind this is done but not over - I will definitely be doing drabbles of this pair in future, but for now I hope you enjoy!

____

part one | part two

“Oi, prick, are you even paying attention?” Roy barks at Jamie, who is sitting staring at his phone.

“Er, yeah, coach, it’s just -just-”

“Just what? Spit it out?”

“How do ya access your voicemails?”

“Jamie. What the fuck are you talking about?”

He holds up the screen to Roy’s face.

You have a new voicemail.

“Jamie, I wouldn’t worry about it, it's probably some berk trying to sell you organic viagra or something. Now please can we get back to the football?”

“I just need to check Coach. To make sure of…something, but I’ve never listened to a voicemail before.”

“Christ you find new ways to make me feel old Jamie.” But before he can make another comment, Roy notices the sad look in Jamie’s eyes. He hasn’t been his usual irritating self this morning, no sassy quips or anything, and he looks like he’s barely slept. “Who are you expecting a voicemail from?”

Jamie looks up at him with those puppy dog eyes. “Oh for fuck’s sake, it’s that girl isn’t it? What did you do now, you silly twat?” 

“I didn’t do anything. I mean I kissed her -”

“Oh my god, that Simone Biles bollocks was about her wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, but it's an inside joke-”

“Hand me the phone.”

“Er, I dunno-”

“Just give it, Jamie.” Jamie reluctantly passes it over. “You dial a three digit number, which will access your number. You’re on the same network as me so-” Roy types the digits and hands it back. “But once you’re done, you’re doing 50 press ups for wasting my fucking time.” Roy goes into another room.

Jamie raises the phone to his ear tentatively. Of course, it’s you.

___

The gallery session had been, in polite terms, a complete shit show. You were late because you couldn’t figure out how to get into the building, then you couldn't find some of the papers with your plan on them, and therefore you spent several hours using what little you have of your phone battery to try and improvise a plan from your memories. You’re finally done, but by this point it’s almost midnight.

“This is your first exhibition, isn’t it?” Simon, the gallery owner looks at you hunched over, shoving the papers back in the bag.

“Yeah, how did you guess? Don’t answer that, that was sarcasm.” You say, continuing to scramble. “So what’s happening PR wise? Are we sending press releases, inviting reviewers, that sort of thing?”

Simon scoffs. 

“What? I get it I'm a nobody, but what about the big Emin retrospective you’ve got coming up in October? I’ve seen posters for that everywhere.”

“That’s pretty much all her team. Besides, when you’re Emin you don’t need the PR really. Of course, we’ll do our best and we’ve got it on our website and social media of course, but our comms person resigned so at the moment we’re a rather limited team. This is such a short period, it’s an interim show. It’s why we could offer it, but you knew that right?”

“Mhmm, yeah, of course.” You say, biting your lip. You don’t know what you expected, instead wearily picking up your bag.

“Right, I best head off, but I’ll see you in two days!” You power walk off while your voice can still sound fake cheerful. Now how do I go back from here? You wonder, pulling your phone out.

Of course, it dies at that very moment.

“Shit!”

___

You eventually manage to navigate home, although the walk takes three times as long especially after one man seems to walk right behind you for ages until you get to the high street and the tube stops running mid way through, so you have to persuade a nice older woman to look up the bus route on her phone. As you walk into your house and flop onto the couch, you remember.

Jamie.

Fuck. You hoped he didn’t take your note the wrong way. You plug your phone in and sit huddled until the screen turns back on.

11 missed calls. 13 messages.

hey Simone xoxo

out at drinks at the moment but I’ll be back asap xoxo

theres a cocktail i think you’d like here  xoxo

on my way home now! xoxo

where are you xoxo

u alright

u ok???

Where are you??

Just let me know ur home safe (or dont if u dont want to)

Im not asking to be creepy sorry if it came off like that

Im sorry if i scared you off

i shouldn’t have kissed you

Lets just forget it happened

Sorry again

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Let’s just forget it happened. You felt sick to your stomach. You picked up the phone with incredibly shaky hands and pressed the dial button.

_____

“Er, hey Jamie, it’s me. Sorry to leave you a voicemail, it feels old school doesn’t it? I don’t even know how to listen to my own voicemails, not sure why I’m sending you one. Well I do, I’ve rung a few times and you’re not picking up and everytime I try and say what I want in a text it comes off wrong - ugh, sorry I’m rambling. Anyway, I’m sorry I didn’t reply, my phone has been dead the whole way home and I had to try and find my way back and the tube is shit and buses are shit and all I wanted was for you to come and pick me up in that ugly orange car of yours but I couldn’t. So that’s that. Did you get my note? I completely forgot but I had the exhibition planning session today and everything that could possibly go wrong did and it’s been a fucking nightmare and to be honest Jamie, I don’t know why I’m doing it anymore. I thought this was my one chance to finally become a big shot artist but it turns out I have to market it basically all by myself and I have no time and know barely anyone so let’s be honest, no one is going to come and it will all be forgotten about and I will prove once again I am the failure my father thinks I am.”

Jamie hears a shuddering intake of breath.

“Sorry, I’m rambling again. I’m sorry Jamie. I really did mean to wait for you. I’ve still got your shirt and everything. It’s just, I’m so stressed and I need to finish these paintings but also why should I finish these paintings but also I want them to be perfect and - and - and I don’t want to do this over voicemail but I don’t want to forget about us but also I have so much work to do and I’m so fucked -”

Jamie listens to you choke down a sob, before sniffing.

“I have to go, but call me back or something. Or maybe I could see you at the exhibit? You’ll probably be the only one attending. Goodbye, Jamie. Sorry again.”

Jamie’s heart was breaking, but not in the way he expected. You were so strong for him but all the while there you were, clearly dealing with your own shit and struggling and he hadn’t even noticed. He hated the idea that he had made things worse.

Now, he knew what he had to do.

___

It is the opening night of the exhibit and you are adjusting your hair for the fiftieth time. The gallery had extended their publicity to a small private view with a few glasses of wine and bottles of beer, but that was it. So you had spent the last three days painting almost non-stop, sending the invitations to everyone you know and barely sleeping. You just hoped your makeup would cover the dark circles under your eyes. You had worn your favourite dress and done your hair especially so you would at least feel like the real deal, but that was quickly waning. 

It had been fifteen minutes and not one single person had showed up. The one event staff was already looking at you as if to ask whether they could go home early. You started to look at your phone while downing the glass of wine in your hand. Still not a word from Jamie. You hadn’t heard from him since you sent the voicemail and you felt embarrassed just thinking about it. It seemed like you were going to need more wine.

But then, a man enters. He is wiry, with a blazer and a glorious grey and black shoulder length mane. He is holding a notebook and looking around keenly. You have no fucking idea who he is.

“Can I help you?”

“Ah yes, I’m Trent Crimm.”

“Are you sure you’re in the right place?”

“I’m here for the exhibit Everything In Its Right Place.” You nod, dumbstruck. “Ah, great, don’t mind me.”

You watch him as he looks at each painting before scribbling in his notepad. That was strange.

After him walks in one of the most beautiful women you have seen, followed by a small man wearing glasses.

“Hello, welcome to the Private View!” You say a little bit too loudly, and you worry that the wine may have gone to your head. The woman leans over to you and of course she smells beautiful too. “Hello, I’m Rebecca. Is it alright if some of my friends come in too?”

“Absolutely, the more the merrier!”

A couple more glamorous women file in, as well as some fancy looking older gentlemen in suits. Behind them is a colourful blond haired woman with an Essex accent and a very fluffy jacket, talking about how her PR firm which is on the hunt for new talent. You made a mental note to talk to her later, and as you do she looks over at you and winks, which makes you feel flustered. 

The events staff comes over.

“Are they on the guest list?”

“Oh yeah.” You keenly nod, hoping they are not paid enough to grass you up.

And then walks in a very familiar moustachioed man.

“Why, you must be the modern Louise Bourgeois our Jamie has been speaking so highly of.” You don’t expect the honeyed Southern twang and you find yourself blushing. He’s more handsome than the small picture by Jamie’s bed gave away.

“I wish! Although Jamie knew who Louise Bourgeois was?”

“I mean, I think he is more of a Georgia O’Keefe guy. But I love old Lou Lou. Art is a guarantee-”

“Of sanity. Very impressive -?”

“Theodore Lasso, at your service ma’am. Although my friends call me Ted.”

“Are we friends?”

“I sure hope to be. Jamie will not stop going on about how great you are, so I thought I best see it in person myself.” He offers a hand and you feel yourself go even redder.

“Well, it is lovely to make your acquaintance, Ted.” 

You see Trent’s head has whipped around this point and he is striding towards Ted.

“Ted you’re going to love these paintings -” Trend hooks his arm in Teds and Ted waves you a goodbye as he is quickly dragged off. 

You see all of Jamie’s teammates file in after Ted, including Roy who gives you a little nod. They have all brought people with them, including some women who you swear might be famous models, and before long the room is densely packed. You can’t believe it. You even have a few people come up to you to ask for interviews, and once the Trent man has sufficiently shown Ted around the room several times over, he asks if you want to be profiled for one of the big papers.

“I’ve always liked highlighting promising new talent in any field, and I feel you’d be a great match.” He smiles at you and you feel your stomach start to fizz. The one waiter who has been frantically pouring drinks for the last half hour runs over to you.

“A couple of people want to buy the paintings, are they for sale?”

“All the ones without red dots are, yeah.”

“How much do they cost?”

“How much are they willing to pay?” The waiter runs off and comes back, handing a long list of offers. Your eyes boggle at the amount.

“Fuck me.”

“Someone said they wanted to snap you up before Satchel did or something?”

“I assume they mean Saatchi.” The waiter shrugs. “Call Simon, he’ll help with the sales.

“I don’t think he’ll pick-”

“Send him a picture of the offers. He’ll definitely pick up.”

The waiter hurries off and you stare at the piece of paper. You can’t believe all this is happening. But you still check your phone.

Are you coming?

No reply.

“Ted? I don’t suppose you heard anything from Jamie did you?”

He smiles and taps his nose.

“I’m afraid I was sworn to secrecy.”

You get back to your wine. That would be a weird response if he had told Ted he never wanted to see you again. But the whole day was starting to feel very weird. You decided to pop out for some fresh air.  However, as you walk outside you see a very familiar orange car parked outside. In the driver's seat is Jamie in a suit, holding flowers, staring at his phone.

“You know, I didn't order an Uber.”

Jamie jumps.

“Jesus woman, you nearly scared the living daylights out of me!”

“I could say the same of you. Can I come in?”

He gestures to the seat next to him. You walk around and slide into the car. 

“You look stunning.” Jamie says, looking over you and you suddenly feel very naked in this dress.

“Thanks. It’s certainly an improvement from when you usually pick me up.” You fiddle with your hem. “So can you tell me why you’re sitting outside my exhibit instead of going inside? You’re the only person here who is actually on the guest list.”

He looks back down at the flowers.

“I dunno. I guess I was worried you might not want to see me after, y'know" He nods his head towards you. The kiss. Before you can reply, he starts talking again. "That’s why I got everyone else here first.”

“This was all you?”

He looks out the front of the window.

“I mean the boys wanted to come anyway, but I spoke to Rebecca and Ted and Keeley. It was Ted’s idea to invite Trent, because he knows lots of people at papers, and Keeley knows people through her firm and Rebecca knows loads of rich guys because I dunno, she’s rich and fit -”

You reach over and gently touch his arm.

“Thank you Jamie, this means a lot - ”

“Any time. I just want you to be happy, you know?” You grip his arm a little tighter.

 “But you didn’t have to do any of this. I would have been happy if you were the only person who showed up.” Jamie finally looks at you. You just stare at each other for a moment, saying nothing. At this point you reach over and tenderly place your lips on his. He doesn't resist, immediately putting his hand on the side of your neck. Your hands start wandering down his torso before he pulls away suddenly.

“I don't want you thinking I'm trying to buy you or something. Me and Roy watched Pretty Woman the other week but I swear-"

"I know Jamie. Besides, you haven't even bought a painting yet." You try to laugh him off but he holds you firm.

"I just want you to remember you earned this. You are really, really talented, it's just - it's just everyone needs help sometimes"

You are suddenly struck silent for a moment, your eyes watering.

"Ah fuck, I didn't want to make you cry again!"

You sniff. "This is good crying though, I swear! I just never realised you were so wise."

"Oi you cheeky mare, I'm trying to be nice!" You both laugh, before he reaches over and threads his fingers between yours. "I think I’m in love with you, you know?"

He looks up at you, uncertain. Your stomach is fizzing, but in a way that makes you feel like you could fly. You smile.

"I know. The thing is, I'm in love with you too, Jamie Tartt." You stare at each other, before your lips crash into each other, your hands crawling all over your torsos and necks, your breathing becoming more ragged before Jamie pulls away again.

"Now come on you, this is your big night, remember. We better get inside before we have to go right here in the back like a pair of teenagers."

You place a hand on his thigh. "I mean, that sounds good to me."

""You are gonna be the death of me, I swear." He opens the car door. 

"Actually, to be fair there is one painting I think you should see."

The two of you stroll into the gallery holding hands.

"Fucking finally." Roy exclaims, before patting Jamie on the shoulder. "Now don't fuck it up Jamie, I like this one." You and Roy share a smile. You felt like you had something to thank him for, but you weren’t sure what.

"I see you met Jamie." You turn around to see a small old woman in colourful clothing.

“Sylvia? What are you doing here, I thought you weren’t back for another week?”

Sylvia gestures to a handsome older gentleman in the corner “Of course I had to see your exhibit darling! Now don’t worry darling, I’m staying with one of my good friends.” She winks before leaning in conspiratorially. “You’ll have the flat all to yourself.”

“Sylvia!” You swat her arm.

“What? Your mother told me you were going through a dry spell. I’m just so glad you and Jamie finally got to meet.”

Your mouth is agape. You said that months and months ago -

“Jamie darling, it's so nice to see you again!” Sylvia airkisses Jamie, before swanning off. You lean into the crook of Jamie's shoulder. You’d say you hate how natural it feels, but you fucking love it.

“Do you think Sylvia set this whole thing up? Between you and me?”

“Well, she did keep telling me she knew the perfect woman for me, with a fantastic arse-”

“Jamie!” You poke his cheek. “Although speaking of fantastic arse, let me show you my painting!” You drag him over to the biggest painting in the room. It is rich and vibrant and while somewhat abstract, almost definitely a nude. “What do you think?”

“I think it will be perfect in my living room. Well, almost perfect.”

“Almost? What else could be more perfect than this?” You gesture to the bum cheeks.

Jamie rolls his head as if mulling it over.

“You?”

You roll your eyes. “Oh my god Jamie Tartt, where did you pick up such a naff line? You’re lucky you are very handsome.” You reach up to kiss him, your fingers brushing his neck and jaw. and he leans to whisper in your ear. 

“You know, now you’re gonna be a famous artist now, someone may actually try to kidnap you. You might need some form of security.”

“True. Do you know anyone?”

“No.” You laugh. “But I do know an excellent driver. And he does know a lot of excellent private spots.”

“How soon can he start?”

“How about right now?” You take his hand in yours.

“Sounds perfect to me.”

---

Ah hope you all enjoyed this two silly billys in love! Pls send me requests of any headcanons/drabbles you'd be interested in seeing that I can bash out while working on this new juicy Roy Kent fic!!

@thebookwormlife @taytaylala12 @eugene-emt-roe @skewcherries @okkkkkkkksure @beingalive1 @gothicwidowsworld @atjamesbbarnes @e-mmygrey

[heartbreakgrill]

stiles stilinski: breakable heaven; pt. 7, “i’m drunk in the back of the car and i cried like a baby coming home from the bar. said, ‘I'm fine,’ but it wasn't true.”

a/n: sad, but gets hopeful! one more part after this, i think :)

“i’m glad i never ended up having a party at my house.”

danny fell into step beside y/n, their shoes scuffing against the sidewalk. they had to park all the way down the street from jack’s house because there were so many other people here. because it was so late at night, the air in beacon hills was cool. y/n hugged her arms around herself, wishing she hadn’t worn a tank top beneath her jacket. her breath came out like a fog as she spoke.

danny made a face at the thought, “too much work. imagine the clean up.”

“yeah, no thanks,” she shivered.

the music coming from the house ahead of them got louder as they neared it. some popular radio song reverberated in their ears. y/n felt her heart beat in her throat, thumping along to the bass. danny lit up once they reached the door, excited to drink, dance.

he always was the party type. he had so much fun moving to the music, losing himself in the crowd.

on the other hand, there was y/n, who didn’t normally drink at parties. she was a go-to for being the designated driver, choosing to watch out for her friends and play with whatever animal the owner of the house had sniffing around.

tonight, however, she wanted to let loose. needed to, more so.there was nothing better after a heartbreak than getting messy-drunk at a high school party.

it had been a week. a whole week since her and stiles’ fall out. a week since she’d seen his face. sure, she saw his figure in the hallways sometimes, but she would run the other way. he’d start to chase her down, but danny was usually close by and he’d shoot stiles a glaring look. it turned him away. he’d texted her nonstop, called her about a million times. but, after the fourth day, when he realized she just wouldn’t be responding, he stopped. all lines of communication fell out. any hope of fixing what was broken was squashed out.

when y/n thought about it too much, she felt sick. nausea tumbled through her stomach. her head became fuzzy. stupid, naive girl, she’d think to herself. it’s all your fault. so, every single time her mind started to wander, she’d shove her nose into her homework, pick up a shift at work, get so high out of her mind that reality felt like a television show.

tonight, her choice of thought erasure was getting wasted at a high school party.

y/n squeezed her hand around danny’s bicep once they walked in. in response, he kept her close to his side as they wormed through jack’s house, in search of their friend group. eventually, they found leo, megan, jack, and a few others. they were in the kitchen, standing around the island counter. glasses were scattered around the house already, though the party had just started barely an hour or so ago. the group cheered when y/n and danny came through the door, holding up some of the red solo cups.

megan came to y/n’s side, her tipsy stature morphing her usually quiet attitude into something more sentimental. she clutched onto y/n’s arm. she touched y/n’s cheek and gushed over the curls swinging over her shoulders. “i loooove the hair, girl. you look so pretty with it like that. you’re always pretty, though. oh, my god, you know we haven’t hung out in forever and it makes me so sad. please, please say we’ll hang out soon.”

y/n giggled at megan’s state, wrapping a securely protective arm around megan’s waist. “i promise, okay?”

y/n was the first to admit that she’d been so caught up with boys over the last few months. she hadn’t exactly pushed away her friends, but she hadn’t prioritized them, either. she was in her head with her own issues, and didn’t make the time others. it made her feel a little guilty. but, before that feeling could snowball into the depressive heartbreak she’d been plagued with, megan continued.

“what’s new with you? what have you been up to? i hope you’re not still sad about sam. you should know you’re so much fucking better than him. you deserve so much fucking better than him. he’s such a whore. fuck him.”

“no, i’m over that,” y/n said, confidently waving megan off through a giggle. and she was telling the truth. “i’ve just been…hanging out. ya know. working.” her gaze became distant, words slow as stiles’ face flashes through her memories. y/n didn’t say what she had been really doing. it was embarrassing to admit that she’d gotten herself into another shitty situation with a guy.

though, megan squinted her eyes, analyzing her friend’s words. she knew, “oh, no. oh, no, no, no. fucking stilinksi. i fucking knew once danny told us- okay. listen- you don’t even have to say anything, kay? tonight, we’re just gonna have fun. here, jack, pour us some shots!”

y/n couldn’t help but grin in response. there wasn’t time to imagine stiles- to envision his lips ghosting the curve of her skin, to try to remember what it felt like when he’d draw out movement from her body. because, next thing she knew, megan was shoving two to three red solo shot cups into y/n’s hand- all in a row. and y/n didn’t let herself hesitate. she swallowed them easily, ignoring the burn in her throat, her heart, her chest, and head.

jack cracked a smirnoff open for her. danny caught y/n’s eyes as she took a sip and gave her a thumbs up. when she waved him off, he winked, then wandered his way into the living room, where people were dancing. he’d mentioned something about ethan being there. y/n looped her arm through megan’s, pointed in that direction. megan nodded excitedly and pulled them to the makeshift dance floor.

they danced for what felt like hours but, really, was only maybe forty five minutes. jack and leo, avid partiers, continued shoving shots into their friend’s hands, traveling between the bar in the kitchen and the dance floor. y/n losing track of time turned into her losing track of how much she was drinking. one smirnoff turned into numerous empty glasses that she’d abandon on the coffee table beside her.

she had to take her jacket off after a while, sweating too much in the jean material. y/n tossed it, absentmindedly, on the couch. she probably wouldn’t remember it there later. she’d probably have jack in a frenzy, texting everyone tomorrow about random articles of clothing in his living room. she’d probably lose the 20 stuffed into the pocket to some wandering hands. but it didn’t matter.

nothing really mattered. not when her favorite song played, not when megan spun her around, when danny would yell lyrics into her face and ruffle her hair. y/n just kept throwing her head back, giggling like a mad woman.

it didn’t matter. it did not matter to her. the entire, fucked up situation with stiles. it didn’t matter that he had used her, that he had been seeing lydia the whole time. it did not matter that he had kept so many secrets from her. it did not matter that she broke her own rules, that she let him get beneath her skin, that she fell in love with hi

it did not really matter if she loved him.

y/n turned on her heel, dancing around in circles with megan, both girls holding each other’s hands like they were schoolgirls. her hair whipped over her shoulders, in waves behind her back. her eyes couldn’t focus on the blurred, bright lights passing her vision as they spun. the bodies surrounding them turned into smudges against her vision. she couldn’t tell who was who.

but she thought she saw stiles standing in the doorway to the kitchen, clear as day.

y/n stalled in her tracks. she nearly fell over from how quickly she stopped. megan bumped into her shoulder, grabbed y/n’s arm to steady herself.

y/n couldn’t breathe. she squinted her eyes, rubbed at them, smudging her mascara.

her sight cleared and there was nobody there.

megan laughed loudly in y/n’s ear, tugging on her arm, “why’d you stop?! keep going! spin, spin!”

y/n took a deep, shuddering breath, staring at the spot where she had pictured stiles. “i need air,” she mumbled.

megan yelled, “what are you saying?”

y/n pulled her arm out of megan’s, “i’m going outside,” she barely looked at her friend. this is why she didn’t like to drink.

y/n stumbled through the house, being shoved left and right by the sweaty, dancing teenagers suffocating her. she didn’t know when she’d started crying, but her face was slick was tears. she wiped her hands across her cheeks, smearing more mascara and eyeliner, blackening her palms. she couldn’t focus her thoughts, nor did she feel like herself. this is why she didn’t like to drink. because she wasn’t logical, she was out of control.

y/n found the side door, the one that led to jack’s garage, and slammed it shut behind her. once she reached the garage floor, she slowly lowered herself to the bottom step, hugged her knees to her chest. she didn’t know if she was having a panic attack or a full mental breakdown. but she couldn’t breathe. and she just wanted to be sober so she could figure out her shit.

y/n pressed a hand to her chest, hoping the pressure would do something: ground her, snap her back to reality. all she could do was sob, rock back and forth like a baby. as she did so, her phone fell out of her back pocket. somehow, her camera roll was open on the screen. staring up at her. a picture of stiles and winnie was there, taunting her.

y/n didn’t have any inhibitions, too far gone to know what crossed the line of boundaries she’d made when she was sober. so, she picked up her phone, her hands shaking.

and she hit the little telephone next to his contact. she stared at the picture as it rung.

she needed him. she needed him to hold her, bare-naked under his bedsheets, warm against his chest. needed him to rake his fingers through her hair and to kiss her forehead, call her baby again. even just say her name. she’d even pretend, like she did a dozen times, just for him, that she didn’t notice his lips linger there. she’d pretend it never happened.

anything for him. if he wanted her and lydia- that was fine. he could have her. she was his, completely, fully. all of his. every inch of her skin that he had laid eyes, that he had touched his with fingertips, every inch of skin that he had nipped at with his teeth- it was his.

he picked up immediately.

“y/n? oh, my god, i’m so fucking- i’m so sorry. i don’t know what i did-“

“stiles,” she cut him off, voice barely above a whisper.

his tone instantly softened. a soothing one replaced his usually hectic vocal demeanor, “oh, baby.” he knew, from just the smallest whimper barely uttered between her lips, he knew that she didn’t want to fight. she didn’t call to argue. she didn’t call to make up, either. she just called to hear him, to talk to him. she needed him.

she’d never know how much he needed her, too.

his voice, breathy in her ear, sent a shiver down her spine. y/n sniffled, knuckles white on the hand which held her phone. her head lolled down, chin hiding into her chest.

“what’s wrong?” he asked.

y/n chewed on her lip for a moment, willing it to stop wobbling, “i mis-“ she stopped herself, jamming a different word onto what she was saying to cover it up, “i mistake. i-um, didn’t mean to call you.

it took him a second to reply, “oh. ok.” he knew it wasn’t true, but he didn’t know what else to say. he didn’t want to press her into a conversation she didn’t want to have. but he didn’t want to end the call. he wanted to be whatever she needed in this moment.

they sat there in silence for a good two minutes, not even the sound of their own ragged, anticipatory breaths making any noise in the other’s ear. y/n’s hand was shaking. she loosened her tight grip on her knees and stretched her legs out in front of her. the shift in position helped her breath a little bit better.

she sniffled again, tilted her head back. as she stared at the ceiling, she suddenly laughed. “i didn’t make a fucking mistake, stiles. god, i meant to call you.”

“oh, good,” his tone remained still and flat. he was focused on reading her words. there was meaning between the lines that he couldn’t read. and she was acting strange. he was decoding everything.

“i mean to call you because every single second that i’m not with you, i feel like i’m going to die!” she exclaimed, tossing her other hand in the air.

stiles rubbed his lips together, brows furrowed, “i’m glad that you called.” he, also, felt like he was going to die without her. but, he didn’t know if he should tell.

if only stiles knew that if he would have just told her, honestly, how he felt, as soon as he felt it, months ago, this entire situation could have been avoided. alas, it was a lesson he was still learning.

“good,” y/n huffed. hearing him calmed her down. knowing he was there coaxed her off the edge of anxiety. now, her drunken self took back over her body. and drunk y/n wanted to dance, “okay. i’m going back to the party-“

“party?” stiles interrupted her, his concerned tone back. she was annoyed that he cared where she was at. he didn’t have any right to that feeling- though, also, it made her feel good, that jealousy, that toxicity.

drunk y/n was feeling a lot.

she nodded, though he couldn’t see her, stating matter of factly, “party. i’m at a party, stiles. i’m drunk, and i’m having a blast. well, i was having a blast until you popped into my mind. god, do you know how badly i want to punch you in the face? i just wanna give you, like, a knuckle sandwich, ya know? maybe being hit will make you figure your shit out. okay, whatever. like i was saying before you so rudely interrupted me, i’m going back to the party. i’m going to go dance with my friends-“

stiles had just left the animal clinic, where he, lydia, allison, and scott had met to discuss plans to combat the killer still in beacon hills. chills were lingering on his skin, thinking about all of the photographs stolen from the station, picturing dead students cut at the throat. every time they’d pull another out of the beige manila folder, y/n’s face would appear in his head, attached to a battered, beaten corpse. he’d been worried sick about her the last week, especially since the murderous rampages had slowly spread, closer to home. and, they were more vicious as every day passed. he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t stay outside her house every night, parked in his jeep down the road, barely able to sleep.

her, drunk at a party, was the last situation stiles needed her to be in. it was dangerous. he didn’t want to show up to a crime scene with her corpse lying within a body bag. he couldn’t lose her.

of course, she didn’t know that that was a possible ending to her night. everyone knew about the serial killer, but average citizens of beacon hills didn’t really seem concern themselves with something that seemed so out of reach. teenagers, especially, were naive and vulnerable to things like that.

“who’s with you?” he interceded her words, again. y/n groaned in response and went to complain about how he always did shit like that. but, he spoke again, more firmly this time, “y/n, who’s with you?”

“my friends, just danny, megan, jack, leo. a bunch of other people i don’t know,” she listed off, staring into space. “why do you care?”

“where is it?” stiles demanded. sure, he didn’t have claws, fangs, or anything that would stop a literal supernatural serial killer besides a beat-up baseball ball and his annoying attitude which would eventually drive the creature even more insane. but, he needed to be there. heather had died at a party. the ending scene of a slasher film always happened at a party. parties were breeding grounds for death, as if they were the tenth circle of dante’s inferno or something.

y/n, danny, leo, megan- they were all sitting ducks. targets for something really bad yet to happen.

so, he needed to be there. convince her to leave, if he could. if she wouldn’t leave, he’d stay. he’d stay for her.

anything for her.

y/n hung up on the phone once he said he was on the way. she’d scoffed and said, “yeah, fucking right. danny will beat the shit out of you.”

the beeping tone of a hung up line hit stiles like a truck. he still didn’t quite understand what he had done. if he did, he’d had fixed it by now. he was always good at fixing things. maybe he didn’t have glowing red eyes, or the ability to predict death, but he always was able to fix the jeep. he pulled his dad out of his alcoholic pit after his mom’s death. he was a problem solver. he was good at it.

but, he didn’t what was broken.

tonight, he intended to find out. he didn’t care if danny beat the shit out of him, or if y/n wouldn’t listen. he’d wait for her to open her ears to his incessant bickering, holding an ice pack to whatever bruises danny had left. he knew she’d break eventually.

if she really was done with him, if she really didn’t want to hear him out, why else had she called him?

–

stiles broke about a billion traffic laws. but he managed to get there, quickly, in one piece.

he couldn’t locate y/n anywhere inside the house, but did find all of her friends dancing in the living room. had they been there the whole time? did they even know y/n was on her own? probably not. you’d think, with a serial killer on the loose, they’d care more about each other’s safety.

his jaw dropped at the sight of them, carelessly floating through the crowd while one of their friends was drunk and alone, in some dark corner of this house. it pissed him off, as did all of the people pushing against him, alcohol sloshing over the rims of their cups and onto his shoes, the smell of sweat, and the sight of teenagers making out against walls, doors, other couples.

he had always hated people, but parties reminded him just how much of that hatred existed within his chest.

stiles checked the upstairs bedrooms, bathrooms, called her name out, down the basement steps, peeked into the empty garage, and even looked inside a pantry in case she’d stuffed herself somewhere like that.

stiles was grateful to, eventually, find her, outside, on the edge of the pool. her sneakers and socks were flung into the yard behind her. she swung her bare feet in the chlorinated water, completely soaking the bottoms of her jeans. y/n’s palms were planted on the concrete beside her thighs, her head thrown back, eyes closed as she swayed to the music. she didn’t seem to have a care in the world.

stiles huffed when he saw her, the deep, worried breath rattling in his chest. “y/n,” he said, hoping to garner her attention. his hands flung about him, as they normally did when he spoke.

she didn’t seem to care that he was there, but she definitely heard him. he knew she had because he watched y/n’s shoulders flinch, ever so slightly, at the sound of her own name.

stiles squatted down beside her, curling a soft hand around her bicep, “y/n, hey-“

she pulled her arm away, as if his hand was made of lava. “go away, stiles.” his hand stilled in the air where she’d pushed it, fingers flexing at the rejection.

stiles then pressed the hand to his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut with frustration, impatience. “y/n, please-“

she looked up at him, jaw slack from her drunken state. her eyes looked darkened, the deadly stare enhanced by her ruined makeup. “what the fuck do you want?”

stiles met her eyes. his face softened, concern overwhelmingly her features. just seeing her face, though it was a wreck- it sent goosebumps across his skin. she was so fucking pretty, even though she’d been crying. why had she been crying?

“i want to talk to you-“

“go away,” she waved him off. y/n then pulled her legs from the pool, dripping water all over the concrete. stiles’ eyes moved down her body, ensuring she was in one piece. he noticed the goosebumps all over her bare arms. she was freezing cold.

he stood with her, following her quick feet. “where’s your jacket?” stiles began to pull off his zip up jacket while she grabbed her shoes. he reached out for her arm again. his fingertips on her shoulder felt like a zap of electricity.

y/n flinched away again. she whipped her head back towards him, a deep frown enlisted on her features, “fuck off, stiles! don’t even try pretend like you care about that shit right now! seriously, go the fuck home! i told you not to come!”

stiles took a step away from her. he wished he knew what he had done so fucking badly. he wanted to kiss her eyelids. he wanted to clean off her makeup, wrap her up in his bedsheets, rub circles into her back until she fell asleep, soundly in his hood.

but, all of that couldn’t really be at the forefront of his mind right now. it couldn’t matter. he was here to protect, whether she wanted him there or not. and, she very obviously did not want him at this party. well, too damn bad. he pushed the thoughts aside.

“i’m not going anywhere,” stiles threw his hands up, as if to challenge her. if she wanted him gone, she’d have to drag him out of there. he continued to follow her. she found a chair and sat down in order to put her shoes on. he continued, “look, i don’t know what i did, but you don’t even understand what’s happening in this town. i have to protect-“

“bro, get the fuck away from her!”

stiles felt a pressure against his chest as someone’s abnormally strong had pushed him away from y/n’s presence. she looked up from her shoe laces that she was struggling to tie, brows furrowing at the sound of stiles’ grunt. she watched as stiles stumbled over his feet. he straightened up, quick, and met the eye of his assailant.

“oh, fuck off, dude,” stiles tilted his head to the side, slowly shaking it in annoyance. his jaw clenched, fists flexed at his sides. he took an intimidating step forward.

y/n glanced between stiles and sam owens, taking a deep, shuddering breath. sam puffed out his chest, towering over stiles by a couple of inches. although he was buffer, taller, a couple years older, he didn’t seem nearly as threatening as stiles did. the devilish qualities to his features seemed to heighten themselves in defiance to sam’s presence.

the black haired boy glared his eyes at sam, pupils blown out out with a stormy darkness. she knew it was wrong, but seeing him so angry at sam- y/n couldn’t help but admit that it made her stomach twirl.

they’d never really had the sam talk, at least she hadn’t told him every single thing. she’d mentioned sam, once, when she and stiles were talking about something else. it was offhanded, when she brought him up. danny, however, had spilled his guts to stiles about the short situationship y/n and that “douchebag” had been in all summer.

and stiles was pissed the fuck off. he knew about sam’s girlfriend at college. he knew sam had used y/n for sex over the summer. he knew that sam had told her he loved her right before breaking up with her.

oh, was stiles angry.

that was, after all, his girl now. and nobody was gonna fuck with stiles’ girl. nobody was gonna fuck with stiles.

he stepped forward, now nearly chest to chest with sam, who replied, “who the fuck are you? y/n told you to leave! want me to show you the door, kid?”

“who the fuck am i? watch your mouth, dickhead. you have no fucking business here-“

y/n quickly stood, wary hands before herself, “stiles, it’s not worth it, i promise.” she stalled his words, but stiles wouldn’t even look over at her. his dark eyes bore a hole through sam, and she knew he was probably going to hit him.

y/n, who was now feeling quite sobered up, glanced to the house. she knew that if they started fighting, stiles would get his ass handed to him. sam was a wrestler in college, the best in his weight class. he was a fucking state champion.

so, she needed to get to danny, who was definitely stronger than stiles, at least. he’d probably be able to keep them apart long enough for her to calm stiles down.

but, she didn’t have any time, because sam was mouthing stiles off again. and stiles really was the best at banter. so, he was getting himself into a lot of trouble.

“you put your fucking hands on her, and she told you to stop. makes it my goddamn business-“

“oh, my god, shut the fuck up!” stiles rolled his eyes at sam. he opened his mouth to shoot off some other sarcastic remark when sam reared back a fist and clipped the side of stiles’ face. stiles nearly fall back on the concrete alongside the pool, but he caught himself. having a werewolf as a best friend had taught him a thing or two. so, he was ready to fight.

stiles hit sam in return, most likely breaking his hand- definitely breaking his hand, he knew it. but the punch tossed sam onto the lounge chair behind him. it surprised both stiles and y/n, who had to jump out of the way. she nearly getting taken out by sam’s thrown body.

stiles met her eye and the sight of her, standing there, scared, softened him. he reached for her, closing the distance between then within two long strides. he set his hands on her biceps, ignoring the throbbing pain in his left one. blood dripped from his cracked knuckles, bleeding onto her skin. she clutched onto his elbows in response, any anger for him washed away by fear and worry.

“shit, are you okay? i’m so-“

before he could continue, y/n was shoved to the ground. she scraped her palms, cut her elbow open, and busted her tailbone, hard, on the concrete. she thought she hit her chin, too, but she couldn’t really tell, because y/n’s vision blurred from the fall.

sam tackled stiles to the ground with another punch. they landed in the grass, and went at each other. it took y/n a second to clear her pained head, but she managed to push herself up on her feet. some of their classmates continued partying around them, most just ignoring the fight. but a small crowd gathered to watch it, like it was something exciting, something fun to do. the bystanders made y/n feel sick. nobody was doing anything.

she didn’t even take a second to look at stiles, knowing that seeing him like that would stall her in her tracks. instead, she turned towards jack’s house, danny’s name screeching out of her throat.

she ran inside, feeling like she was pushing through thick, slow jello. she continued to yell out his name. luckily, she found him, on the dance floor still. ethan was there, too. good- he could help.

ethan was already meeting her, setting a kind hand on her arm. “what’s wrong?” his eyes glazed over, and he looked to the side, as though he could hear the fight. he ran outside.

danny shoved through the crowd, towards her. he caught her chin in his hand examining her wounds, “what the fuck happened? what’s going on?”

y/n, breathing heavily, sobbing again, stumbled out, “sam and stiles!”

danny pushed aside as he fell into a run. y/n followed, though the burning of her cuts and scrapes became more intense on her nerves. she seethed a breath between her teeth, stumbling over her feet, but pushed on.

ethan had shoved sam to the grass, though he was getting back up, again. danny immediately lunged in between them before sam could get to stiles. danny sent a harsh punch to sam’s gut, forcing him backwards again. danny then grabbed stiles by the shirt, helped him become balanced on his feet, before danny pushed him away, too. ethan came back in, grabbing stiles around the chest to hold him back, though stiles fought against the tight hold. sam somehow got up, again, clutching his stomach, and jumped towards stiles. danny punched him again and shook out his fist after. the look on his face was annoyed, but also, somehow, vengeful. he had been waiting all summer, all of fall, to punch this motherfucker.

“fuck you guys!” sam spat at danny and stiles from his knees, more blood trailing down his already slick chin.

stiles grunted, fighting against ethan’s hold. “you’re a piece of fucking shit! pussy ass bitch-“

“shut the fuck up-“ sam cut him off, then added, “i don’t even give a fuck about that bitch!“

danny shook his head at the words spitting from sam’s mouth. stiles looked angrier, if at all possible. ethan’s hold loosened on him, shocked by the insults sam threw at y/n. ethan did care for her, too, even if he barely knew her. she was everything to danny.

all three boys were seething with anger. sam had called her a bitch, and they did not like that.

sam simply smirked up at them, his words and expression challenging them. he went to wipe his mouth with his sleeve, but he didn’t get a chance to even take another breath because danny had lunged after him again.

ethan let go of stiles, purposefully, and the boy followed suit. ethan, a little more controlled- even though the situation pissed him off, too- grabbed danny, but not before allowing him to get a few punches in.

y/n ran forward and tried to grab stiles’ arm. she failed, and instead tripped over his shoe. she tumbled into the grass. she quickly pulled herself up, again. when she looked for stiles, she saw him being restricted again, this time by scott’s arm. she didn’t know when he had arrived, but she was glad for the extra help.

it made her heart swell that all of these men cared about her so much to fight sam like they were, but it really needed to end already. it shouldn’t have even gotten out of hand in the first place. she was nauseous, hurting in all of the places she’d been wounded, and extremely tired from the alcohol still coursing through her system.

y/n stood up. scott was rushing out words to his friend, “hey! stiles! stiles, cmon, dude! calm down! stiles!”

“stiles!” y/n called. she crouched down in front of him, reaching for his face.

stiles finally met her eyes and a steady rhythm graciously caught his breath. she cupped his jaw in her delicate fingers. his blood smeared across his face, all over her hands.

a few tears ran down his face, falling into her palms. she didn’t know why he was crying, if it was because of his injuries or his anger. but she wiped them away with her thumbs.

“it’s okay, baby,” she whispered, for only him to hear. “i’m okay, it’s okay. please, just calm down.”

scott, who had let go of stiles, turned to sam, who was standing up from the ground. scott was charismatic, and could usually easily demand people. he put out a cautious hand towards sam, “leave it, buddy. just leave it, trust me,” scott warned him.

stiles slumped forward, on his knees. y/n squatted, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. she used all of her strength to stand them up, brushing the sweaty, bloody hair from his face. sam watched her tenderness as she cared for stiles, feeling a surge of jealousy. sam knew he didn’t want her. he knew he had willingly given her up. but, that didn’t mean he wanted anybody else to get to have her.

so, just when it seemed like it was over, sam scoffed, “yeah, you’re right. i’ll leave it. she’s not worth it. she’s just an easy fuck and a cheap ass date-“

now, scott was angry. he roared, and y/n thought she saw his eyes flash a bright red. he went after sam, just to shut his stupid fucking mouth. he swept past y/n and stiles, who clutched onto her waistline protectively. he tried to duck them out of the way, but his foot skidded over the concrete, and they tripped towards the water.

she yelped, clutching onto his neck, as they fell into the pool. the water enveloped them, but tore them from one another. y/n kicked her feet sporadically, shocked by the cold, by the alarming fall they’d taken. she grabbed for stiles’ shirt and gratefully felt his hands fluttering for her hips.

she blew out a lot of bubbles, struggling to hold her breath from all of the shock. stiles tugged her tightly against him, again, and swam them to the surface. y/n wrapped her legs around his waist and clutched onto his shoulders. she was shaking, with fear, with pain, from the cold water nipping at her skin. it was all so much all at once that she just laughed.

stiles stared at her as she tossed her head back, giggling like a maniac. he furrowed hit brows, jutted his chin out, “what are you laughing about?”

y/n barely met his eye, continuing to laugh at the fucked up situation. “this is just so stupid!”

he remembered she was drunk and tapped her hip, “okay, let’s get you out of here-“

“it’s stupid, stiles!” she slapped a hand down onto his shoulder. “you’re stupid! that fight was fucking stupid! sam’s stupid! this night is stupid! i’m stupid!”

“why am i- why are you stupid?” he didn’t want to make it all about him. she was clearly grappling with something, something she needed to talk out.

she couldn’t continue to push everything away, including him. “i’m stupid! i let you and that stupid boy fuck up everything! i let it happen not once, but twice! what is it- fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me? i’m a fool! you and sam are, like- oh, my god, im just stupid. and that was so fucking stupid- you and sam fighting over me! you guys fought over me, but both of you are the reason im so fucked up in the first place! it’s your guys’ fault and you just had some stupid pissing contest-!”

“me and sam?” stiles sounded out his words carefully, working through her rambles in his fuzzy head.

the night she’d ran out of his house, in a craze, a mess because of his phone blowing up- what had triggered that?

who had called stiles that night? who had been blowing up his phone? was it-

it was lydia.

lydia, the girl everyone at beacon hills high knew he’d had a major crush on for, like basically, ever.

y/n must have looked at his phone. she must have put together, based off of the texts he’d been sent, based off all of the context clues laying right in front of him, that he and lydia were together.

meanwhile, am had had a girlfriend the entire time he and y/n had gone out. every day, he’d see his girlfriend. then, usually on the weekends, when it was dark, he’d bring y/n out like a toy.

y/n thought stiles was just like sam. y/n thought stiles was using her.

she had no clue that she was everything and the sun to him. she had no clue that he needed her like water, that he craved her like wine. she didn’t know that he spent every night rereading their texts, analyzing their conversations, going over their interactions, decoding everything to find a way for her to love him despite her hurt, despite what they agreed on.

she was used to being broken by people who claimed to love her, and stiles was just another part of that system.

so, he needed to tell. right now.

stiles gripped onto her hips, shaking her body just once so she’d meet his eyes. “listen-“

“no, just- get me out-“

“y/n, you beautiful, gorgeous, sweet woman- just listen to me! okay? just listen!” stiles demanded, “i’m not with lydia, alright? i’ve never been with her. i don’t want her- i’m in-“

“stiles!” scott called his name from above, standing at the edge of the pool. his eyes still glowed red, his face was still morphed into that of a wolf. scott’s chest puffed out, in, heavily, with deep, ragged breaths.

stiles knew something was wrong based off of his friend’s demeanor.

“we have to get to the school. lydia’s in trouble.”

stiles looked to y/n, who’s face had lit up from the possibility of stiles’ words. her expression morphed into confusion. he wanted to say something, to say sorry. but, he couldn’t. he couldn’t focus.

so, y/n took her turn to speak, graciously replying with, “stiles, i know there’s so much that you’re still hiding from me-“ she glanced up at scott, who tilted his head with shame, “so, i’m coming with you. if you want me to trust you, i have to come with you. i have to know.”

stiles knew she was right.

so he drug her, head first, into the world of the supernatural.

[purplink8]

Can I be real for a second? I don't think L giving a foot massage to Light was very in-character of him. Like manga!L would've totally scoffed at how pathetic anime!L appeared when he did that.

I like the rain scene bc it's really pretty (also Light MOANS bc of L? *sighs* yeah i ship lawlight) but I'm always so ?? at anime!L's behavior? The anime made L way too melancholic and y'know self-deprecating kinda guy. In contrast, manga!L (whom I love to death) is so so confident in doing what he's doing and has the time of his life during the Kira case as he's intellectually challenged (by Light) as he figures out the case little by little.

I don't get where the anime creators got the idea that L is a very sad character who cares about justice so much so that he's actually Justice itself? Manga!L enjoys solving cases. I'm not saying that L doesn't care about justice at all- just that he cares more about winning.

So, the anime creators looked at a character who cares about winning (& his own ego) than everything else and decided to... make him give a foot massage to his nemesis (surprise surprise bible symbolism featuring L as Jesus *🤮* coming up) apparently due to accepting Light's (boy's first debut as Judas) 'betrayal' how can there be betrayal when there was no trust between them in the first place and saying "It is the least I can do to atone for my sins"...

The only way I could've made a little sense of this is if L was mocking Kira with that line but the anime just had to go above & beyond to make it (L's actions) seem too genuine for that to be true. which is. so. FRUSTRATING

Manga!L wouldn't have done anything like that. Not even ironically (he'd have thought it to be below him for pretending to be accepting his defeat mockingly to Kira). Even Manga!L's not enough of a bastard to try to compare himself with Jesus (and just after knowing (god knows how) that he's going to die)- like that's too stupid omg: even for a mockery.

Does he actually think that Light would pick up on the (him as Jesus) symbolism and be like 'oh no! L is too noble like Jesus to die by my betrayal i'm such a bad judas how come i NEVER NOTICED THIS BEFORE'... and decide to spare L's life? Or embrace his inner Judas like the bad bitch he is and finish L for that godawful mockery of Jesus?

Whenever I think about Anime!Light's in-character reaction I crack up as it would be smth like 'wow this guy who graduated summa cum laude from torture university is pretending to be Jesus? lol what a real piece of work. would've expected better from you L: so pathetic lmao i hope rem kills you soon i'm so done with you rn- rip 💀'

Manga!L (if he knew he were going to die (don't know how that's possible in the anime; still we're talking about how the anime creators seem to see L as Jesus so ~anything is possible~) that is) would never go 'guess i'll die' accept his defeat offering a foot massage to his enemy and inwardly throw a pity party being all "… It'll be lonely, won't it?" GIRL you were the one going on & about how you'd EXECUTE Kira once you catch him on live tv (also saying that you'd bring Kira's head to the task force) I REALLY doubt you'd feel lonely if either one of you were to die- that (killing each other) was the point!!

Manga!L is a selfish character: he values his victory above all else so the anime making him accept defeat that easily + gracefully doesn't sit well with me.

[r0syr3a]

Letters to lovers

Cliff Burton x Reader

Words: 565

Genre: Fluff and angst

Warnings: Discussion of Cliff's passing and swearing

Author note: omg I can't believe I finally got the balls to start posting my writing RAAAHHH! This is for Isa, aka @metallicaislife, one of my favorite blogs! Jewel anon is finally revealed lol. I did use the wiki page on the tour for the order of where they played so it makes a bit of sense. Now, on with the story~

Dear, Y/N

I knew you'd end up looking into my shirt drawer once I left for tour, so I figured I would leave you a little surprise. I knew you'd miss me too much that you would just HAVE to wear one of my shirts to bed ;)

Alright, I'll stop being a jackass now. You told me how much you love letters so I figured I'd write some for you while I'm on the road. As I'm writing this, I haven't even left yet and I already miss you so much. This is gonna suck mega balls, I know it.

Try and get some sleep and take care of yourself while I'm gone, My Star. I'll try and see you whenever I can and I'll call as often as possible.

Love always, your rock, Cliff.

Dear, Y/N

I hope you enjoyed my first letter, we just made it to St. Louis. I don't know how many of these I'll be able to write and receive just because we'll be moving so fast, but I'll write as many as I can, I pinky promise. (See? I do remember things)

Every show so far has been FUCKING WILD! God, I wish you could be here to see it all, I think you'd love it.

I miss you, Y/N. I don't wanna be sad and sappy but it's true. You're My Star, how am I supposed to be a rockstar without My Star? Right now, I'm just a rock and that's not nearly as cool. I'm gonna stop writing this so I can call you.

I love you always, your rock, Cliff.

Dear, Y/N

Fuck, I'm so sorry. I haven't written in forever. I'll try and do better after these next California shows. At least we'll get to see each other for those, right? It's gonna feel amazing to hug you and finally have you in my arms again. The guys miss you too. Kirk says he needs you to paint his nails again before we leave again like it won't be gone in like three days.

I hope you're taking good care of yourself and I'll see you soon.

Love always, your rock, Cliff

Dear, Y/N

WE'RE IN EUROPE BABE!!!!!

It's honestly so cool, we explored some old castles and shit yesterday. The time zones keep waking me out so I don't know when to try and call you, I'm sorry I haven't.

I have been taking pictures for you though. We could make a little scrapbook with them when I get home! We are currently in Ireland so you best believe we are drinking THE BEST beer ever.

I honestly don't know what to write about. All I know is that I love you and I miss you and I can't wait to come home or at least fly you out for a show in some random country.

Soon, My Star,

I love you always, your rock, Cliff.

Dear, Y/N

Hey, it's Lars. I know you already got the news by the time it gets to you, but I know he'd want me to send it anyway, even if it isn't finished. We'll be there soon. Hang tight, please. We love you.

Dear, Y/N

Europe is officially my favorite. The best breakfasts and the best beers? What more could I need other than you here? I am definitely bringing you here one day. I promise.

[erosjournal]

‧₊˚໒꒱ i cant save us, my atlantis, oh no...

────────────────────────────────────────────

~ characters : technically featuring all of the argos ll and calypso + will, leo valdez x jason grace, a little piper mclean x reyna avila ramírez-arellano

~ synopsis : once leo told his plan to hazel and frank, they couldn't just sit by and tell no one. they thought telling jason would be best, but made him swear not to tell anyone, not even leo, that they'd spilled. jason snuck a note into leo's pocket before he defeated gaea, which he opened once he'd gotten safely to calypso.

~ tw(s) : mentions of fire and death and queers. im so sorry there's a lot of spoilers. leo is in love with calypso, jason and piper aren't together. also pipers the only one who knows about jason's feelings, since they'd seperated over feeling romantic feelings for people of the same gender.

────────────────────────────────────────────

"WHAT!?" jason yelled. hazel's eyes widened, and she slapped her hand over his mouth while frank glanced around uneasily.

"shut it, grace!" she hissed. "leo can't know we told you!" he nodded, and she eyed him. "better not spill, ok? no one can know." she lowered her hand, and jason stood there, unable to process exactly what hazel had told him.

leo was gonna go through suicide to save everyone else? he felt his breath shorten, his heart heave. gods, he couldn't let leo do that. he just couldn't. he felt his head swim, his chest ached.

"um, wait," he stumbled, stepping back as he started to lose his footing. frank reached out, pulling him back up. hazel and frank glanced at each other nervously, watching jason struggle. "repeat exactly what had happened again?"

hazel took a deep breath. "um, so, uh," she felt her own nausea overcome herself. she couldn't believe it herself.

"leo's gonna sacrifice himself at the final battle. he's gonna, um, cause him and gaea to explode, and he has the physicians cure in his possession. um, i think he has a way to administer it to himself," hazel murmured, getting light-headed. jason nodded, listening to her explain again.

"no..." he muttered, shaking his head. "he can't. storm or fire. it could be me," he said, trying to reassure all of them. frank sighed, shaking his head.

"nike told us one of the four that had gone down was gonna die. leo is the only person who overlaps both requirements." he frowned, and jason swore he saw tears sprout in franks eyes. frank quickly blinked back his emotions, looking into jason's eyes. "it has to be him."

jason couldn't believe it. no. no. he felt himself beg. he didn't want leo to die. not before he got the chance to tell him that he loved him.

"no. it won't be him. i can stop him, i'm his.. best friend." his voice lingered on those last words, shaking his head again. if he said the words enough, he hoped they would come true. yet, deep inside, he knew frank was right. leo had to die for the world to be saved.

"jason. leo can't know we told you. we.. we promised him. but we knew you deserved to know." frank tried to reason, putting a reassuring hand on jason's shoulder. gods, jason thought he was gonna faint then and there. his legs trembled, his body uneasy.

"but..." he looked up at them, blinking back tears. they both looked at his sad figure, like a dog you just wanted to hug. "leo. he can't just die on us." jason muttered. hazel glanced at frank, and they shared a knowing look.

"jason, is this really just about leo dying for us? is there... anything else?" she said, sniffling. he looked into her eyes, the glossy gold startling him.

"no. i just, don't want to lose my best friend." he assured. he took a deep breath, and looked at both of them. "i won't say a word to anyone. i need to be excused." jason said, asking for permission to leave. they both nodded sadly, and he rushed out, his chest squeezing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

once jason was alone in his room, he finally let himself understand what was happening. he felt tears spring into his eyes, and seconds later he was crying. gods, he didn't want to be weak like this. he couldn't let everyone see that the leader was breaking down in his room, crying over everything. but he couldn't stop. all of his emotions from the past flooded through, barriers crashing down that he didn't even know he'd had.

he finally calmed himself, his breath still unsteady and heavy. he took a deep breath, glancing around his room. he decided to finally think about what had happened, what the reality of the situation was.

jason knew frank was right. leo had to be the one to die. he was the person hera had chosen from the start, since he was born. he was destined to defeat gaea. he smiled a little, imagining leo beating up gaea, but the thought of him dying resettled in.

he promised that he wouldn't tell leo. he knew he couldn't anyways. leo's death was inevitable. no matter what he said, nothing would stop the future. the fates decided on it themselves. so, instead, he decided on what he could do. he got up, walking over to a small table that had a pad of paper and some pencils on it. he grabbed the supplies, and sat back down. he touched the tip to the paper, and words started flooding. his emotions, his feelings, his love for leo.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"jason~" piper muttered, knocking on the door. she'd seen him angrily close the door earlier, and wanted to check on him. they were still best friends, even after their break up. she felt some rustling inside, and a crash.

"wait! don't come in!" she heard jason yelp as she started opening the door.

at a single glance, the situation was unreadable. jason was laying on the ground, the top half of his body all the way under his bed. his legs were flailing, and he hit his head, again, on the bottom of the bed. she heard him curse, and closed the door behind her.

"jason? are you... ok?" she asked, walking over to kneel next to him. jason quickly crawled out, blushing furiously.

"i-i said don't come in. ok?" he said, glancing uneasily under the bed. she followed his gaze. he was hiding something.

"jason. what in the hades is going on!?" piper exclaimed, moving jason so she could look under the bed. he pushed her out of the way and she looked at him confused, and angry.

"stop it! stop going through my things!" he argued, frowning. she shook her head.

"gods jason! what's going on! seriously! i'm your best friend..." she said, looking at him sadly. he hesitated, then sighed.

"i just... wrote something for leo. maybe, i might just confess." he admitted. piper nodded, a little surprised.

"is that what's under the bed?" she asked, looking back at the space under the bed. a folded up wad of paper was underneath.

"yeah. i would prefer if you didn't look at it." he said sharply. piper nodded again. she wasn't a terrible person. of course she'd respect her best friend's privacy. but something felt... off.

"you know i'm the daughter of aphrodite. i can tell when somethings off. is that really all?" she asked, standing up and holding out a hand to pull jason up. he accepted it, pulling himself up. they sat down on the bed, jason fidgeting. piper bit back a laugh. it reminded her a little too much of leo.

"no.. but.. i seriously would rather not talk about it." jason stated, and piper frowned. she was curious, but she was a good friend. if he seriously didn't wanna talk about it, she'd understand.

"ok, just know i'm always here. ok?" she smiled, putting a hand on his shoulder. jason glanced over at her, grinning.

"i know, pipes." he leaned into a hug, holding piper close. she hugged him too. gods, this hug felt better since they weren't dating. they sat back, smiling.

"ok, well, i gotta go... um... talk to annabeth. yeah." she said, standing up and walking to the door. jason laughed.

"yeah sure." he teased. "not thinking about doing anything else, especially thinking about someone named reyna..." he smirked, and she blushed.

"well, i'll tell her when you tell leo." she muttered, walking out of the room. she heard jason laughing still, and it made her smile a little.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

leo was working on some fine tuning of his mechanical work on the ship when jason knocked on the metal next to him. he jumped, and held a hammer out to him.

"gods!" he exclaimed, once he'd realized it was jason. jason was giggling, his hands up in retreat. leo put the hammer in his belt, shaking his head. "don't scare me like that again! how'd you even sneak up next to me?"

"magicians never share their secrets." he smirked, and leo felt his stomach churn. he couldn't believe he was gonna leave piper and jason. especially jason. his best friend. leo felt his smile slip, but immediately pulled it back up.

"well, gonna have to teach me one day, houdini." he teasingly punched jason's shoulder, then went back to working. "so, whatcha here for?" he asked, using a screwdriver to tighten some bolts.

"i... i just wanted to check in on you. you've eaten today, right?" jason asked, a more serious demeanor on his face. leo nodded.

"of course! aint gonna let my bro worry about my health." he grinned, glancing at jason. jason smiled, but still looked concerned. "seriously. i made some tacos for me! and dont worry, i drank water."

"ok. the official battle with gaea is tomorrow, are you sure you're ready for, um, that?" jason said, uneasily. leo felt his heart pang and his stomach unsettle.

"of course dude. i got some wicked plans up my sleeve!" leo noticed jason grimace still, and so he sighed. "jason, what's wrong? you've been acting weird. you like me or something?~" he teased a little, but saw jason bite his lip, and could've sworn he blushed.

"leo, gods, i'm just worried about you. ok?" he said. leo felt like crying. gods, he couldn't just leave jason like this.

"i'll be fine." he said firmly, resting a hand on jason's shoulder.

"swear it."

"what?"

"swear it on river styx." jason harshly said. leo felt taken a back. it was like jason could read his mind. he bit his lip. he couldn't just say no, or jason would know something was up. he looked away.

"jason, i'll be ok. i'm not doing anything stupid."

"leo, please." leo looked back into those eyes of jason's, sky blue, with hints of begging. he sighed.

"fine, whatever. i swear on the river styx that i won't do anything dumb." he said, and jason seemed a little better. technically, leo wasn't lying. he was going to be ok if this worked out. which it should. right?

jason grabbed leo in a tight hug, which felt out of character for jason, but he melted in it. gods, he was gonna miss this sap.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"hey." leo grinned, which was unnerving in the flames, his teeth like molten silver ingots. "i told you i had a plan. when are you guys going to trust me? and by the way -- i love you guys."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

hours had passed, and the battle between the greeks and romans had subdued. jason refused to go the infirmary after his fall, stumbling as he looked in the sky, for a single trace of leo.

piper sat on the ground, still where they'd fallen. she was sobbing, her face in her hands, hazel rubbing her back.

"why didn't he tell me! he could've avoided it! maybe the prophecy was wrong!" she cried, her words coming out in hiccups. hazel grimaced, and held piper as she shook in a hug.

"piper, you couldn't have done anything. i'm sure of that. i'm so sorry." she was on the verge of crying herself, but piper took it harder.

and jason couldn't believe he just watched as it had happened. everything was too fast. falling out of the sky, watching leo blow up. his last words... gods, he felt his stomach churn. he was pacing along the grass, holding back tears. will and nico stood there, watching him.

"jason! you have to go to the infirmary! i will drag you there myself!" will groaned. jason shook his head, and kept walking.

"nico, so you're sure? he's not here?" he begged. leo swore he'd be ok. jason should've been the one to die. jason kept kicking himself mentally for letting leo pass like that.

"i'm sorry." nico repeated. they'd had this same conversation about 10 times in the past 3 minutes. "i can't feel his presence anymore."

"he was supposed to live. he has the physicians cure. why isn't he alive?" jason said, mostly to himself. the others watching in complete sadness and fear. leo's destiny had been written from the day he was born. he couldn't have died. not yet.

"jason, you seriously need to rest." nico argued.

"hypocrite," will muttered, and nico shot him a glare.

"not now, solace. jason, please." he begged. jason shook his head.

"maybe i can go up in the sky, look for him. there's probably a trail from the explosion, i can just follow it."

"jason, we talked about this. you're barely in any condition to stay here, much less go be superman." will argued. jason looked up and glanced around at his friends, the feeling of death and sadness settled around them.

no. jason refused to believe leo was dead. he couldn't be. he couldn't be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

leo woke up startled by the feeling of intense pain shooting around his body. he groaned, attempting to sit up on his metal dragon.

"f-festus? gods, where are we?" he muttered, his body feeling like it had exploded. well, technically it had, but still.

festus let out creaks and leo smiled a little. his plan had worked. first, he was alive. that was good. he watched festus put away a compartment that had the physicians cure. second, their navigation system didn't work.

he was gonna see calypso again.

"let's go! my plan worked! as they always do," he grinned, hugging festus. his sides hurt, but he was too happy to think about it.

"gods, that physicians cure hurt more than the explosion itself. did we do a good job boy?" he asked. festus nodded, creaking more. turns out he did save jason and piper from a painful death, and defeated gaea. wow, he really was a hero.

"good, good." he sad, his heart sore. it might've been from the cure, but leo was sure it was from the idea of jason and piper. he couldn't believe that everything that had happened actually happened.

leo bit his lip, and immediately regretted it. jason always bit his lip when he was nervous. piper and him always made fun of jason, saying he'd split it and bleed. leo shook his head, and kept looking forward.

soon the clouds parted, and they spotted the island. there was a girl who was frowning, suitcases at her side. leo smiled, and blushed. he was so excited to see her again. calypso.

"hey buddy, let's land. i'll do some quick repairs on you once we get down, yeah?" he asked, and festus started gliding towards land. leo couldn't remember exactly what occured, but next thing he knew, he and festus were crashed onto the sand of the island.

leo felt bad, seeing festus in such a mess. but he shook his head. he'd fix him. just, first he had to see calypso.

calypso jogged over to him, still frowning, but a smile teased her lips.

"you're late."

"you know, it's hard to tell time when you're in the real world." leo argued, grinning. we walked over to her and kissed her, the sweet taste of her lips making him smile harder. she wrapped her arms around his waist, and leo yelped.

"oh, you ok?" she said nervously. leo shook his head.

"yeah, i just must've had something in my pocket..." he mumbled, reaching his hand into his pocket. it was a folded piece of paper, but it was uneven, stabbing his side.

"what's that?" calypso asked, staring at it just as much leo was.

"not sure." he opened it. and he gasped.

hey leo, it's jason. i wrote this letter to you about a couple days before you died. frank and hazel were worried out of their minds, and told me. and be thankful they did. now, if you really did survive, you should be reading this. if you didn't, well, i'd rather not think about that.

if everything worked well, you are a hero. you saved a lot of people and kept innocent lives, well, alive. and you should be appreciated properly. i'm sorry i couldn't save you. i swear, i tried.

i really do hope you didn't die. gods, i might not be able to live with myself that had happened.

i love you, leo. like, more than friends. that sounds dumb, but yeah, i really love you. even as a friend. and i could never lose you like that. i was too scared to finally admit it, so maybe this letter could do that for me. i hope you're happy, safe, and alive. piper and i love you so much, and appreciate you more than you'll ever know.

with all due respect, jason.

leo bit back tears, blushing as he read jason's confession. he felt his heart rate speed up, his breath uneven. of course, even in a sappy love note, jason had to be formal at his signature.

"leo, everything ok?" calypso asked wearily, frowning. leo snapped back up, forgetting she was there. he sniffled, rubbing his eyes.

"yeah of course. let's get, um, going." he said, hopping onto festus' back. calypso eyed him nervously. leo noticed this himself, realizing he felt more distant from the girl now. she got on behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist, which he flinched at.

he felt confused. he loved jason too, but he wasn't sure if it was all platonic like he'd thought before. and the feeling of calypso next to him definitely wasn't helping.

he knew he was supposed to fix festus, but now he just wanted to get out of there, see his friends as soon as he could again.

he had to find them, tell them he was ok. he wasn't gonna leave like others did to him. he couldn't.

he was gonna go back to piper and jason. he swore it on the river styx.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~ an:

YAY! i was so excited to write this, sorry it is super time skippy and like, choppy. i started with thinking about what could've happened if jason knew about leo dying, and tried to do something about it. obviously, i wanted to mix valgrace in it. sorry i didn't use all characters in this, i got tired towards the end. thats why the leo pov chapter sorta sucks, but i loved this idea.

i did take an excerpt from the blood of olympus, leo's real words. it's page 465 for those who wanna see it.

i hope u liked this little angsty fic, and i rlly did like it. :3

[gacha-incels]

Been boycotting limbus but it's a bit disheartening seeing everyone continue around me with this passing intl women's day. I don't know how to convince my friends to stop without getting into an argument because they're all knee deep into these games. But my real question was.. why? These people are boycotting other products for other things, why are they so adamant with sticking on this when it's proven to have harmed so many people in the small team that made it?

Had a discussion with one who is boycotting and I feel like that "political correctness" seeps into the themes of the game, actually, despite how people tout it as the ultimate anti capitalist game; The City is suffering, workers gruel and die at the whims of corporate overlords, people struggle to find housing, and whatever the fuck Carmen's doing in the light, while it could help people survive longer, is just giving everyone guns ignoring the power structures underneath. It's very strange to me now there's.. no suggestion of uprooting the system at all in the games. No true strikes or protests or even any mentions of unions as far as I know. There's no effort to change what is given

[outside of the seed of light project, which 1. famously Didn't Work and 2. having everyone manifest ego is still just giving everyone guns and going "now don't shoot each other!"],

which is very strange and kind of sad? Like sure maybe an arbiter or something would come and tear it down but surely people would come up with countermeasures? People are really good at adapting around things out of desperation, and surely at least an effort would be mentioned

And then my friend, she suggested something; without project moon's suffering, there would be no project moon. Without the city, project moon can't make games. To end the hell that the characters are in and truly resolve the city's hypercapitalist dystopia, they must stop making money off of them. But they don't want to. They definitely DO want to make more games, noted by the interviews which mention future game concepts such as the distortion detective visual novel. But in order to do so, they must keep the current games "clean" and consistent in their suffering to perpetuate conflict. There is some commentary about capitalism to be had; but it feels more like a "oh, look, people are dying, this is so sad" layer of paint on it at this point rather than something more in depth and meaningful. And I think in enforcing this sort of "we can't fix the system in any meaningful way, let's just live our lives instead and hope something better happens" mindset, it reflects into the players. Kind of ironic how the anti capitalism game must sustain its own horrible systems internally so the owners of the series can: make more money through a very predatory money making system, no less!

Limbus fans don't give a fuck about feminism in kr, they think its a system they cant help fixing so they just play the game as they please and any attempt to disuade them is met with a "stop ruining my fun!!" And "who cares?" The worst ones are the ones who KNOW their money is being funneled into stupid misogynistic shit but don't care! It's insane! I've never seen this level of apathy towards a serious issue before!

Sigh. I hope this ramble is coherent. If I missed talking about something or if you want me to talk more I'm game. Project moon's characters are some of my favorites but you have to admit the themes are surface level shit at some point, especially in later installments of their games. So tired but I'd figure I'd share my thoughts somehow. Take care account admin, youre doing gods work

yeah regarding your first point about fans that keep playing, back in August there was a discussion on this blog here regarding contemporary fandom “culture”- how it makes dropping a piece of media hard for some people and why they feel so quick to defend it. the nature of gacha is also that it gets you into the habit of doing “dailies” which makes them harder to drop, this is not even mentioning sunk cost fallacy. I’ve seen a recent post on the FGO subreddit asking why people still play the game and the top posts by a longshot were ones saying only because they spent so much time and money on it. For a lot of people (even people who think themselves progressives) misogyny is a non-issue as well so they will not take the situation in South Korea that seriously to begin with. This is in addition to it happening to “other” or “foreign” women in the eyes of the western fan. There is also an aggressive “fuck you, I’ve got mine” attitude some of the fans who want to keep playing have in regards to these women. It’s disturbing to watch happen but unfortunately not uncommon. I find some of the worst of it, in this situation specifically, is when westerners try to tell Korean women (who are boycotting and spreading information) that they are the ones spreading misinfo, or there’s no reason for them to boycott, how it’s not that bad for them, how PM actually didn’t do anything wrong, “both sides” are crazy and wrong, “let people enjoy things”, shit like that. like doesn’t it raise any flags for you that the people most affected by PM’s actions, Korean women, deleted entire accounts of fanart, took back fanmade items from PM’s cafe, started a boycott of LC and made posts in english to try and get the word out to international fans? you must think they’re idiots if you believe this is all some misunderstanding and vellmori quit of her own free will. Come on. imo it’s impossible to make any meaningful statement critiquing capitalism when you’re writing it in a game that uses one of the most exploitive types of gambling mechanics. I hope I don’t have to explain to anyone why this is absurd. You don’t need to expose young people to gambling addictions in order to fund new games. At the same time, things an author writes (or things that the reader infers from the writing) do not always reflect their ideologies or actions in real life and they can sometimes seemingly be at odds with one another. This is something fans have to reckon with, and not just by saying “actually hatsune miku made limbus company” or whatever. Personally, I can’t take PM’s “anti capitalist” or “feminist” or “revolutionary” work seriously when in reality they have mistreated employees, sued labor unions, acquiesced to incel demands and then later added a meme into the game from that incel community. On the other hand people struggle to believe Project Moon could do anything wrong like this because of the stories in their games so they vehemently defend PM, which at some point just feels naïve. well hopefully this is the type of answer/discussion you were looking for lol thanks for writing 👍

[writinglover25]

A True Hero

Derek Hale x Fem!Reader , Pack x Fem!Reader (platonic)

Part 1

This is part 2 of ‘Pack: To Save A Friend(s)’ never thought I’d actually make this. Also, I changed this one a bit to where Reader and Derek are dating and have been for a while. Also Y/n is Scott's older sister b/c why not? Hope you enjoy and thanks for all the support!!

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG!!!

Side notes: Y/n/n - your/nick/name

Summary: Y/n had saved her friends, she saved the people she loved. But what happens when saving them turns into sacrificing herself? Will she be able to save herself from this fate?

Warnings: Mentions of death/dying, SO much angst, bit of fluff

Y/n saw a figure behind her friend's back, and before she could understand what was happening she saw the shine of light off a sword. Before anyone could react y/n had shoved Allison to the side.

And that's when everything went totally wrong.

Everything happened in slow motion after that. Y/n's ears started ringing, and everything was a blur. She felt like her body was on fire, her entire being was in pain. However through all of it she could faintly hear her friends shouting something.

And the next thing she knew she was being pulled into someone's arms. But, when she looked to see who it was, everything was foggy, she couldn't see what was going on around her.

She blinked her eyes a few times to make the fogginess go away and when it did she could see a face. It was Derek's face..

But- Was he crying? Why was he crying? Y/n tried to lift her hand up to wipe away his tears but that's when she felt it.. The unbearable pain in her chest. She tried to look at it, but she felt a hand on her face preventing her from looking at it.

"Hey no, no, don't look okay? Just look at me. Focus on me." And so she did. She looked at Derek's face instead of her bleeding wound.

"Derek.. it- it hurts. It hurts so much.." She whispers to him, trying to find the strength to keep her eyes open. She was getting tired. Her eyes began to close, but Derek shook her.

"No, no, don't close your eyes, okay? Stay with me. Just- just keep them open for me." She could hear the tremble in his voice as he spoke.

"Y/N!" Alison came running up to her friend and kneeled next to her along with Scott.

"Y/n I'm so sorry I didn't see it behind me and oh my god.. I'm so sorry." Y/n looked at her friend and saw the tears in her eyes.

"It-it's alright Allison. It wasn't your f-fault. I pushed you out of the w-way. Please this.. this wasn't your fault-" y/n winced as her body slightly jolted in pain. She groaned and felt the tears falling down her face.

"Y/n/n!!" Scott called out to his older sister. Landing next to her, taking in her other hand. He brushed the loose hair on her face to the side.

Y/n could see the tears spilling down his cheeks. Could see the look of terror and sadness in his eyes.

But what could she say to him?

That everything was going to be okay? That she was fine? It didn't hurt that bad? No, Y/n couldn't say those things. So.. Y/n said the only thing she could think to say. "I love you little bro... and tell mom I love her-.. '' She coughed and took a deep breath, "that I love her to." She paused, "I'm sorry.." her tears ran down her cheeks.

It was a sad sight to see. Issac was holding onto Alison, Stiles with Lydia, while Derek and Scott sat next to her. And all were crying. Keeping each other upright as they all felt sick and weak. This was their friend, their family and pack member.. No one could move, no one could talk. They stood and watched as their friend, who they considered an older sister to everyone, was dying. For, what were they supposed to do?

Y/n could feel herself slipping away. It was getting hard to keep her eyes open. Her thoughts started to wander. She thought about her family, her friends and pack mates, and her lover.

She thought about her powers. She was a healer, this was her literal job, the thing she did best. Although there was more to it. Others would call her a witch, a very powerful one. Couldn't she just heal herself? She had the ability to, did she not?

But it was too late, Y/n could feel it. She didn't have the strength. Didn't have the energy to call her powers.

Y/n, with what little will power she had left, moved her head to look at Derek. The pain she saw on his face made her heart break more. The tears in his eyes trailed down his face.

She hated it when he cried. And she hated it even more because in this case she was the reason for his tears.

Slowly, she lifted her hand again. With the pad of her thumb she wiped the tears off her lover's cheek, cupping the side of his face in her small and bloody hands.

"Don't cry", she pleaded. "Your supposed to be my sour wolf, not my sad wolf." She finished with a smile stretching across her face.

A small had spread across Derek's face at her attempt at humor. Stiles let out a small laugh, hugging Lydia closer to his side.

He looks at his best friend, his sister even. And he blames himself. He knows it wasn't necessarily his fault for this, but he blamed himself nonetheless.

As if she could read his thoughts Y/n looked at the younger boy and smiled at him. Without words being spoken he new in that moment she didn't blame him, she'd never blame him. Not when it was all out of his control.

"There has to be something, anything, we can do.. You can't just die. Not like this." Scott spoke out loud, though more to himself then the people around him.

“Hey, it's okay.” She looked at her brother with her signature smile. “It doesn't hurt,” she continued. “I'm surrounded by the people I love.. my family.” Breathing in deeply she started to cough violently. “And that's all I could ever ask for.”

957 words

I'm, again, SO sorry for how long this took!!

But on another note should their be a part 3? Does Y/n somehow make it out of this mess alive. Or does she truly and simply die? Protecting the people that she treasures most.

[yuseirra]

ch160...again

I know none of you here would be doing this but I burst out laughing this morning out of.. how absurd some of the reactions were oh my god....

I don’t really look at other people’s reactions much because it stresses me out, but I did come across a few Youtube thumbnails while skimming through, you see? There's been a lot :/

I really don’t know if I’m watching the same piece of work with them!!!

Like, seriously, let's just sit down and think for a moment.

If seeing a toothbrush lights up the flame of madness in someone, isn’t that person the creepy one, not Kamiki?

I mean, how does someone’s expression darken just because they see a toothbrush? Is that a joke? I can get Nino despairing or getting swayed that way because she encountered her boyfriend's death (seriously, why date Ryosuke out of all people? He's trash!! Why Nino WHY??), but Ryosuke? He’s clearly not in his right mind. Think about it.

Ryosuke is seriously a creepy person. He goes to Kamiki’s house, sees two toothbrushes, and one of them is labeled “Ai’s ♥” — then his face turns pale like he's encountered some kind of nightmare. Is that normal?? I want him gone. That's a stalker too close to home, it gets on my nerves. what makes him be that way?

Please, think about it... Please... this is so absurd to the point it's funny, I can’t take it anymore. What is this? Are we even watching the same piece? This is ridiculous

The guy kept talking about how much he missed his ex-girlfriend. And that... that’s what became the motive for Nino and Ryosuke to kill someone and attempt murder. Hey, which side would be the crazy ones if you had to pick a side?

Aqua might bring more evidence regarding Yura in the next chapter of something, and if at that point it turns out, “Wow, he was the mastermind all along,” I can understand that.

But right now, with just this, you’re telling me Kamiki's incited people’s madness and deliberately stirred up their emotions to make them into killers or whatever?

Does this make sense? Does that even sound reasonable? To me, it’s satirizing the obsessive madness surrounding idols. Isn’t it? Because there really are people who stalk idols and do creepy things. Ryosuke couldn’t stand the fact that the idol he adored had a boyfriend, so he resorted to harming her being the malicious stalker he was. And Nino? She’s like one of those crazy fans who attack other idols because they’re more popular than the one she stans. That’s what this is a metaphor for. It’s absurd. Do people actually interpret it literally? Kamiki is right. He did nothing.

Let’s reflect on this from an ethical perspective. Even if this were a real situation, would you take everything at face value? I hope not. I hope you don’t think any of this was justified. No, look, the visions Aqua brought was definitely a gag. It was meant to be funny. How does Ryosuke, who’s nobody, pale at the sight of someone’s toothbrush in the same cup as their boyfriend’s? He’s seriously a strange person!! If someone had caught onto this earlier, Ai wouldn’t have died! Someone should have reported him to the police when he showed these signs but he hid his true colors so well huh? What an unfortunate thing to have happened. He shouldn't have existed. There is no need for a person like him to exist in this world.

Aqua, please get a grip. Make some sense. Please... This is making me angry.

I'm not defending your father because I favor him, he HAS to pay if he's done wrong; but you really can’t justify this. It’s stressing me out so much I think I’m going crazy. If this is all you have for you confront your father and aim a knife at him to tell him to get lost, it’s not enough. This comic seriously gives me a headache.

Kamiki is just too pitiful... yeah, the guy really is a sad figure.

When Ai herself said she wished someone would help him, the outcome has been set in stone.

The problem is how to get to the outcome, but the answer is already there. That’s how I jumped in with conviction. This is where the story will head regarding that man.

This person deserves to be saved.

But how in the world are they supposed to be saved? I have no idea... They will though. I wasn't very good with predicting the little details that'd lead to the outcomes, but I've always been right about the conclusions, regarding this manga.

[deluweil]

To be honest the way part of the fandom has treated this Tommy character as a god makes me dislike him more. Unfortunately the Buck bi arc was tainted for me because it all feels force. Also what doesn't help is that Eddie was to much involved in that storyline.

The way people are acting like it's a perfect relationship and yet we barely saw them together feels just weird.

Also I don't like how some literally push Eddie away for this new white man.

This is Taylor Kelly all over again. The sad part is that the season is short and people wAnt to to spend their time giving more to the new guy.

I hope him and Marisol are gone, but I'm afraid. These two characters took the joy out of the Buck and Eddie storyline for me.

The fandom, I think, in this case, is definitely the problem here,

Lou is completely unassuming and enjoying the process and being a buddie shipper just like us - if one actually bothers to read the interviews and not just pick and choose what to talk about.

That is what makes me like Lou.

The fandom has somehow glorified Tommy's character after a couple of episodes and yeah it rubs the wrong way, because, what about the story we had so far?

Is season 7 a reset to 911? and everything that came before that doesn't count? Why not just make it 911 abc pilot then?

I don't think that's the case, but I think the last minute switch between Buck and Eddie kind of ruined it for the Tim because, yes, in a way it feels forced and out of left field.

Supposed that Buck was indeed vying for Tommy's attention, why do it like that? and why involve Eddie in the first place?

I have a lot of questions and my main problem here is not that Buck is experimenting with Tommy, it's the way they practically propelled this ship off the cliff into a dangerous spin, they went from zero to 200 in a second. - That is not how you build a relationship.

You don't try to figure out what you want, mess up the first date, then invite said date to an apology coffee and then invite him to family wedding on the way. It just doesn't work that way.

I may be straight, but I have gay and bi and lesbian friends, neither one of them has ever brought a second or even a third date to so much as a friends get together before they were sure that this is something that would last, before they brought the intended victim to be judged by friends and family.

And people who talk about Tommy as being established in the 118 family, that is not true. He has a connection with Chimney in that that he owes him his life and an acquaintance with Hen, who is clearly not very fond of him, because of obvious past she had with him and their old house before Bobby came into the picture. - Remember - Chimney was her ONLY lifeline in that house.

Tommy was not a liked character before.

Arguably Buck had more history with Taylor than he did with Tommy (which is none at all) - But Taylor is a strong opinionated and often self-serving woman (not unlike Buck mind you), emphasis on woman. - That is the only reason she never stood a chance. Because the writers could have made her and Buck the greatest love story this show has seen, but they continuously managed to ruin any fondness for any female LI to ever grace that set.

And this season is short, to bring in a new LI kinda defeats the purpose of re-establishing the team and this show, because it does feel the same as any of Buck's old relationships that were being pushed for the benefit of 'god forbid Buck actually learns how to be alone and healthy and happy' - the only thing that changed in Buck this season is his sexuality and nothing else, and that vexes me.

My problem is not with Tommy, it's the perpetuation of 'poor baby Buck' society. - I love Oliver and I love Buck - I am tired of the ever repeating pattern of forgiveness for his self serving ways without any accountability that we keep seeing.

I don't think Buck's or even Eddie's firsts or you know what? even seconds should be each other, I am more than happy to make this journey with them, but let it be a marathon not a sprint to the finish line - they knew they would get renewed for another season, they could have written and built it better than what we got - because the moment they switched gears after the second episode, the story became written in the same messy last minute way both S4 and most of S5 were written.

There is no grand plan, at this point they are merely winging it and see where the wind takes them. - And that is idiotic, they had SO MUCH TIME to make this a well written story with the strike and long break after that, to write as they film is lazy and stupid and mostly childish.

And yes this is Taylor all over again, not in that they are the same type of people, but that Buck is jumping head first into a relationship without actually knowing how he got there. - Bobby said that himself - and it is the same, because who in their right mind invite a second (kinda) date to a family event? Like dude have you ever dated before? Do you how this works?

It is a LOT of pressure and not even for Buck himself - because he brought this on himself - but rather for Tommy (aka the intended victim) to be first introduced to the family after a couple of dates when he himself has no idea where he and Buck are standing.

Marisol, has indeed sucked the joy out of the Eddie's story, I don't get why do either of the boys had to be in a relationship starting this season to begin with. Like, she is literally a handbag, the token hetero symbol, so to speak, what she is doing there? is beyond me.

The catholic guilt of her being a nun is bullshit, and as Bobby said himself, Eddie has no problem committing to certain people/things. She serves no purpose this season other than a seat warmer/ glorified babysitter since Buck is otherwise engaged.

They could have gone for Eddie finding his way in the department, Eddie dealing with his mommy issues, Eddie trying to figure out what and who he wants in his life, Eddie trying to navigate Chris' terrible teenage years.

They could have explored the fact that a guy going with his supposed gf/wife in the golf course checking Eddie's hot ass (6X17) - Oh wait, they were going to... the ground for Eddie's coming out was all laid out and they took a sharp turn to left field in the second episode of S7 and made it all about Buck again, because the Natalia actress couldn't come?? what kind of a weak ass reason is that?

And yes, the cliche of receiving the odd white man out (who played a controversial role in early seasons) rather than the regular casted poc male or the guest starring woman, for that matter, better is all kind of f-ed up, but no one would talk about that, of course. 👀

Anyway, I am hoping that whatever is coming next will be worthy of our time and attention because so far we got about more of the same as far as Buck and Eddie are concerned - except that Buck has just broaden his variety and has a bigger pallet of mate choosing at his disposal.

I have two very close bi friends, so I know how their minds work, because God knows they share with me more than I ever wanted to know lol. And one of them is watching 911 with me and she is happy for the rep as well, but unhappy with how it was developed too.

At the moment, I have decided to put any Buck and Eddie topics aside and just want to get the LONG AWAITED Madney wedding, if anyone deserve a happy ending, it's them. ❤️

[hisui-dreamer]

through the endless daydream (part 3)

Pairing: Lilia Vanrouge x gn!reader

Synopsis: There is a rumour that there is a hidden advisor of the Draconia family, who has guided the ruler of all fae for years. They say he is the one responsible for the peace established between humans and fae. What they don’t know, is that he has been doing so for millennia, cursed by the gods to be immortal as punishment for his crime of killing a human who was beloved by the gods—his very own lover, for whom he must forever repent until he can be killed by his true love.

Tags: fluff with angst, reincarnation, confession, the Diasomnia bois are in this chapter, bot proofread

Word count: 4.1k+

Notes: Okay, guess what... there's still one more chapter lol. I promise this time it's the last prolongation, I swear. Also I wrote this on Lilia goblin brainrot when I really should have been doing my homework, soooo, I hope y'all enjoy it hahaha

Part 1 ✧ Part 2 ✧ Masterlist

"Father, what's wrong? It's unlike you to look so down," Silver asked, placing a comforting hand on Lilia's shoulder.

It felt like just yesterday when he had first met Silver as a child, and now he had grown into a young man who had a promising future as a knight. Within his long immortality, Lilia had found purpose in helping others, as he was unable to help himself. When he noticed the small human child left on his doorstep, he decided to adopt him, wanting to provide him with a loving home just like his Beastie had done for the children in the orphanage, driven by his desire to make a positive impact on someone's life and to create a family bond that would bring him joy and fulfilment. Silver became like a son to him, and their relationship brought Lilia a sense of purpose and happiness in his life.

Lilia attempted to brush off Silver’s concern with a chuckle, "Oh, I'm fine, Silver. Just my old age getting to me," he replied, ruffling the boy's hair affectionately.

Malleus, the current fae prince, had been observing the exchange and approached the pair with concern. Lilia had been a mentor and father figure to him. He was one of the few people he held dear to his heart as he always listened to Malleus' problems, counselled him, and comforted him during difficult times.

"Lilia, you seem troubled," Malleus said, his voice carrying a touch of formality. "What happened?"

Lilia sighed, his playful façade dropping momentarily. "I saw them today," he replied softly. "I met the love of my life again."

The air in the room visibly tenses as Silver and Malleus exchanged solemn glances, sensing the weight of Lilia's words. They were well aware of Lilia's curse, the immortality that he had carried for thousands of years, and the possibility that meeting you could hold the key to breaking it. He had never made an effort to hide what happened all those years ago from them, deeply believing that it was all part of his punishment.

The two couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness at the thought that Lilia might eventually leave them when his curse is broken, having grown close to him over the years and having come to see him as a father figure and mentor. However, they also knew better than anyone the immense burden that Lilia had carried for thousands of years, and they couldn’t bear the thought of him suffering any longer as he watched everything he held dear inevitably fade with time.

Silver glanced at Malleus with a pensive expression, and Malleus nodded in understanding, both silently agreeing that Lilia's happiness and freedom were of the utmost importance, even if it meant parting ways with him in the end. They had seen the weight of his immortality and the toll it had taken on him, and they wanted nothing more than for him to find peace.

Silver spoke up with a hopeful yet cautious tone. "Father, could it be possible? Are they the one who can finally break your curse?"

Lilia sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know, Silver. It's complicated… Meeting them brought back memories and feelings that I've long left behind, but I don't know if it means they're the one who can free me from my immortality."

Malleus spoke up, a serious look in his emerald eyes. "Lilia, we need to tread carefully. We don't know the full extent of the situation, and if their reincarnation holds the key to breaking your curse, it's vital that we handle it with caution and wisdom."

Lilia nodded, appreciating Malleus' advice. "You're right, Malleus. I won't rush into anything. I need to understand the situation fully and consider all the implications."

Silver chimed in, his violet eyes shining with determination. "We'll be here to support you, Father. We'll stand by you, just like you've always stood by us."

Lilia, touched by their unwavering support, felt a renewed sense of determination to face the situation with wisdom and care. "Oh, you two are so grown up now. Thank you, both of you. I'm grateful to have you by my side."

"Father," Silver began, "I know you've told us about them before, but can you tell me more?" he asked.

Lilia turned to him, a misty haze in his eyes as they softened with fond memories. He sighed, a smile gracing his lips as he spoke. "They were a remarkable human, Silver..."

Lilia felt a flutter of anticipation as he made his way to the park where he had first encountered you, having agreed to meet each other the next day at the same time and spot. He couldn't deny the curiosity and eagerness that surged through him as he walked with a slight bounce in his step.

As he approached the park, he scanned the area for you, until his gaze rested on your figure, sitting on a bench beneath a flowering cherry blossom tree. You looked up, your eyes meeting vermillion ones as a smile spread across your face, sensing someone's stare.

In that moment, he knew without a doubt that you were his true love, just as his Beastie had been all those years ago. It was as if fate had brought you together once again, and he felt a sense of wonder and awe at the sheer impossibility of it all.

Lilia walked towards you, his steps quickening with each moment as he noticed the striking resemblance between you and his Beastie—the same radiant smile, the same playful glint in your eyes, and the same warmth in your presence that had enchanted him all those years ago.

"Hello," Lilia greeted meekly as he reached the bench, unable to contain his emotions.

"Hello," you returned, your voice sending shivers down Lilia's spine. "I've been expecting you."

Lilia nodded, finding himself at a loss for words for a moment as he took in your presence. "It's... it's good to see you again," he finally managed to say, his tone filled with emotion.

You smiled warmly and gestured to the bench beside you, prompting Lilia to sit down. The cherry blossoms provided a picturesque backdrop to the meeting, the air was filled with the scent of spring, reminding Lilia of the springs he had spent with his Beastie and the children.

You were his true love.

The one who would end him.

Lilia cleared his throat, focusing himself on the present. "So, " he started. "You mentioned having met me in your dreams before?" He asked, his voice tinged with curiosity and wonder.

You nodded, shyly looking down at your lap as you twiddled your fingers. "I've dreamt of a man for as long as I can remember. He looks a lot like you, only more mature, and he had long black hair," you said softly, searching Lilia's face for any sign of recognition. "He seems so distant and powerful, yet the gleam in his eyes… there's a gentleness in his gaze when he looks at me. It's like he's protecting me, even though I don't know who he is."

Lilia listened attentively, his heart skipping a beat with each word you spoke, a mix of emotions swirling inside him. He was moved by the fact that you had been dreaming of him even when you had reincarnated, and that you saw through his facade of coldness to the softness he reserved only for you. At the same time, he was hesitant to reveal his true identity, fearing that he might hurt you once more.

"I... I'm glad that he brings you comfort," Lilia finally replied gently. "Dreams are seldom all they seem, and sometimes they reveal things that we may not fully understand."

You nodded, seemingly satisfied with his response, but Lilia could see a flicker of curiosity in your expression. He knew that you were still trying to piece together the puzzle that had several pieces missing, but he couldn't blame you for trying to comprehend the situation.

Over the course of the conversation, the topics shifted to the stories of your life, and Lilia noted everything about you with his entire being, seeking to know you better. It was as if you were talking to an old friend as you opened up to him about your life, your struggles, and your dreams for the future. You shared how you had faced challenges and hardships, how you had worked tirelessly to overcome obstacles, and how you had dreamt of a better life.

Lilia listened intently, his heart swelling with admiration for your resilience and determination. He could see the fire in your eyes as you spoke about your plans and aspirations, and he couldn't help but feel a deep sense of empathy and compassion towards you.

"I've always wanted to get a decent job, find love, or travel and see the world," you rambled on with a wistful smile. "But I've never had the means to travel, even when I’m working multiple jobs just to make ends meet. It's been tough..."

Lilia nodded, understanding the weight of your struggles after having lived for thousands of years. With each word you spoke, he felt a growing sense of responsibility towards you, wanting to do whatever he could to help you, to grant your wishes and see you achieve the dreams you held dear. He knew that he had the power and means to make a difference in your life, and he silently vowed to himself that he would do everything in his power to support you if only to make up for his mistakes in the past.

"I'm sorry that you've had to face such challenges," his voice was filled with sincerity. "But I want you to know that you're not alone. I'm here for you, and I'll do whatever I can to support you in achieving your dreams."

You were taken aback by his generosity and kindness. "You don't have to do all that," you said, touched by his offer. "I appreciate your offer, but I don't want to impose." But Lilia only smiled, his eyes warm and genuine. "It's not an imposition at all. I want to do this for you because you deserve it, and because it brings me joy to see you happy."

From that day on, Lilia kept his promise, making use of his connections and resources to find you a well-paying job at the palace with a kind boss who would understand your situation and be supportive, as well as a rather loud half-fae co-worker who seemed to dislike humans, but was still kind to you at times. Lilia also made a habit of surprising you with gifts for no particular reason, just to bring a smile to your face and make you feel appreciated. Sometimes it would be items you’ve mentioned liking or elegant flower crowns that Lilia weaves himself, seeming to consistently know your likes and dislikes.

You spent more and more time with the energetic fae, with him taking you to fun places on a whim, showing you the wonders of the world and letting you experience the joy of new adventures. The two of you travelled through beautiful landscapes, and he watched with joy as you laughed, explored, and embraced life with newfound zeal. And with each passing day, he found himself falling deeper in love with you—you were one and the same as his Beastie, the one who had captured his heart and lit up his world all those millennia ago.

Lilia was determined to make the most of the time he had with you. He wanted to give you the gift of joy and adventure, knowing that it was something he could offer before he would have to say goodbye. He tried to push his own feelings aside, focusing on bringing happiness to your life and creating memories that would last forever, savouring each moment, cherishing the smiles on your face, the laughter in your voice, and the memories you were creating together. He found solace in your presence, feeling a sense of belonging and happiness that he had longed for in his immortal existence.

However, the reality that his time with you was finite made his chest heavy. He struggled with the conflict between his love for you and his impending departure, feeling torn between the desire to stay by your side and the knowledge that he had to let go. He tried to hide his true feelings, not wanting to burden you with his own struggles, and instead focused on making your time together as special as possible.

But what he couldn’t control, were your feelings for him.

As you thought about your upcoming trip with him, you couldn't help but feel a warmth spreading in your chest. It dawned on you that it wasn't just the excitement of the adventures or the thrill of the unknown that drew you to him. It was something deeper, something that made your heart skip a beat every time you were near him.

His magical abilities and mysterious aura fascinated you, but even more so was the way he brought joy into your life. He had been a source of wonder, adventure, and happiness since the first time you met him. His playful and kind attitude, his unwavering support, and the way he always made you feel special left an indelible mark on you. Your life had begun to improve as a result of his encouragement and care, having found a career that gave you stability while also allowing you to pursue your dreams. You laughed more, smiled more, and felt more hopeful about the future.

It was inevitable that you would fall in love with him.

Warmth rose to your cheeks as the thought crossed your mind, and your heart was pounding in your chest, making it difficult to focus on anything else, including work. You tried to regain your composure and focus on the task at hand, but your mind kept drifting back to Lilia.

"LORD LILIA! HOW WONDERFUL OF YOU TO GRACE US WITH YOUR PRESENCE!" Sebek, your co-worker, excitedly announced. As if your thoughts had manifested into reality, Lilia stood at the entrance, looking as handsome and enigmatic as ever. "Sebek, your inside voice, please," Lilia gently admonished, exasperated at the knight’s energy.

This weekend was another anticipated adventure with Lilia, this time to the Queendom of Roses. After a quick goodbye to your co-workers, you walked towards Lilia, who opened his arms and enveloped you in a warm embrace that felt like coming home, like being wrapped in a cocoon of safety and warmth.

"Khee hee, ready for our next adventure?" Lilia chuckled, the sound igniting butterflies in your stomach.

You couldn't help but smile at his words, feeling a surge of excitement and joy. With Lilia by your side, every adventure was filled with magic and wonder. You nodded fervently, unable to contain your enthusiasm.

"Absolutely!" you beamed. "I can't wait to see what surprises the Queendom of Roses has in store for us." Lilia smiled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. He extended his hand towards you, and without hesitation, you slipped your hand into his, feeling a jolt of electricity at the contact.

With renewed excitement and anticipation, you set off with Lilia towards the Queendom of Roses, eager to embark on another adventure with your favourite person in the world.

The moment you arrived, you were greeted by a sea of vibrant colours and the intoxicating scent of flowers that filled the air. The entire landscape seemed like it had been plucked from a fairy tale, with rose-covered arches, winding paths, and blooming gardens that stretched as far as the eye could see.

Lilia led you through the bustling streets of the Queendom, his charming and confident demeanour making him a favourite among the locals. You couldn't help but be captivated by his presence, his knowledge of the history and lore of the Queendom, and his adventurous spirit that made every moment with him exciting.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the sky transformed into a canvas of rich colours. The last rays of sunlight cast a warm, golden glow over the Queendom of Roses, illuminating the rose-covered buildings and creating a magical ambience.

Lilia led you to a secluded spot in the centre of the forest, where the trees towered above, forming a natural canopy that filtered the moonlight, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor. The air was cooler now, but Lilia's presence by your side kept you warm.

You sat on a moss-covered log, gazing up at the night sky as stars began to twinkle into view, one by one, a gentle breeze rustling through the leaves and the distant sound of crickets chirping. Lilia's hand found its way to yours, and the touch sent tingles down your spine. You looked at him, and in the soft moonlight, his features were bathed in an ethereal glow, making him look even more captivating. The beauty of the sight seemed to mirror the feelings that had been growing within you, and you couldn't contain them any longer.

Taking a deep breath, you turned to Lilia, feeling your heart race in anticipation. His eyes seemed darker, so alike the colour of wine, more mesmerising at the low light, and his presence filled you with a sense of comfort and safety.

"Lilia," you murmured. "I need to tell you something." You took a step closer to him, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement coursing through you.

Lilia looked at you attentively, his expression unreadable, but his stare holding a glimmer of curiosity. "Hmm? Go on," he encouraged softly, like a soothing melody.

Feeling a rush of courage, you spoke from the bottom of your heart. " I... I have fallen in love with you," you confessed, gaining strength with each word. "You've brought so much joy and adventure into my life, and I can't imagine my future without you in it."

As the words left your lips, you held your breath, waiting for Lilia's response. The crackling of the bonfire seemed to intensify, and the stars above seemed to shine brighter as if the universe itself was holding its breath along with you.

Lilia looked taken aback, his eyes widening in surprise. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words seemed to catch in his throat. He struggled to find the right words, and you could see the conflict playing out on his face.

"I... I didn't expect this," he finally said, his voice tinged with a touch of sadness.

His words hit you like a blow to the chest as your heart sank with disappointment, but you could sense his sincerity.

Lilia reached out, placing a hand on your shoulder, and you could feel the warmth of his touch. "Beastie, " he started with the nickname that you’ve grown so fond of. "You're an amazing person, and I care deeply about you," he said, filled with sincerity as it always did. "But I can’t be with you, I apologise."

"But why?" you asked, unable to conceal the hurt in your voice. "I thought... I thought we had something special."

Lilia looked pained, and he averted his gaze, unable to meet yours. "I... I apologise, but I’m afraid I can’t tell you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

As his words sank in, a mix of emotions swirled inside you. Disappointment, sadness, and a tinge of heartbreak washed over you like a wave crashing against the shore. You had laid bare your feelings, hoping for a different outcome, but now you had to come to terms with the fact that Lilia couldn't be with you.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and a knot formed in your throat. It was painful to hear the person you cared for say that they couldn't be with you, especially when you had poured your heart out to them. It felt like a door slamming shut, shutting down the possibility of a future together.

In your mind, questions and doubts arose. Was it something about you? Was it his identity that he kept so well-hidden? Or was it simply his own personal reasons? You couldn't help but wonder if there was anything you could have done differently, if you had misread his feelings, or if you had been too forward in confessing your love.

You turned back to face him, searching his eyes for answers. "Is it because of your true identity?" you asked hesitantly. "Are you holding back because of who you really are?"

Lilia looked at you with a mix of surprise and sadness, as if he hadn't expected you to figure it out. He remained silent for a moment and then sighed softly.

"Yes," he finally admitted, heavy with emotion. "The truth is complicated, and it brings with it a burden that I cannot share with anyone else. It's because I care for you deeply that I have to let you go."

"Lilia, please," you begged desperately, as your heart ached with longing. You couldn't bear the thought of losing him without knowing the real reason behind his decision to distance himself from you. "I'm willing to do anything for you. I can't bear the thought of losing you without knowing the whole truth. Please, tell me why you can't be with me."

Lilia had always tried to keep a distance, to protect you from the truth of his identity and the inevitability that came with it, but it tore him apart to have to push you away. He knew the consequences of his actions and the weight of his responsibilities, and he couldn't bear the thought of hurting you like he had done once upon a time. But seeing you now, vulnerable and pleading, made it even harder for him to stay resolute.

Part of him longed to take you in his arms, to tell you everything, and to be with you despite the risks. He cherished the moments he had spent with you, the joy and happiness you had brought into his life. Your love had touched him deeply, and he couldn't deny the feelings he had for you. His expression torn with conflicting emotions, he took a step towards you as his gaze locked with yours. "Then," he said, his voice laced with hesitation. "I’d like to ask one favour from you."

You stopped in your tracks, turning to face him, curiosity mingling with the pain in your heart. "What is it?" you asked softly, willing to grant him anything within your power.

Lilia took a step towards you, his expression serious yet pleading. "Promise me, that on the day of the first snowfall, you will pierce me with this sword," he said, his voice steady but filled with a sense of longing as he summoned the sword imbued with the curse.

You stared at Lilia, shocked and bewildered by his sudden request. The sword he held was ancient and ornate, and you could sense the powerful magic emanating from it. The weight of his words hung heavily in the air, and you could see the conflict in his eyes.

"What?" you exclaimed, unable to comprehend what he was asking of you. "I can’t do that! I can’t hurt you!"

Lilia reached out and gently took your hand, his touch familiar and comforting, melting away all the anxiety that had overtaken your mind. "Don’t worry," he assured softly. "It won’t hurt me, you’ll be freeing me from my curse."

He wondered if it was fair of him to lie about the true nature of his curse, that upon doing so, his existence would end. Although you would be saddened by his departure momentarily, the world would quickly erase his existence before long, wiping everyone’s memories of Lilia Vanrouge.

You furrowed your brow, surprised by his revelation. "Curse? What do you mean?"

Lilia took a deep breath, and you could see the anguish so clearly written on his face as he explained to you. "I made a terrible mistake in my past, and as a result, I've been cursed with immortality. I can't age, I can't die, and I've been bound to wander the world alone for all eternity to repent."

You were at a loss for words, torn between the love you still felt for him and the shock of his request. But when you stared at him, the pain etched on his face as he revealed the burden he had been carrying, and you reached out to gently touch his hand.

"I'm so sorry, Lilia," you said, reaching out to gently touch his hand in comfort. "It must have been incredibly difficult to bear." You looked up into Lilia's eyes with determination. "I’ll do it, I’ll break your curse for you," you said firmly, steeling yourself for what was to come.

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Part 1 ✧ Part 2 ✧ Masterlist

[a-french-coconut]

Travis Stoll (Part 12)

In his life, Travis saw his father a total of two times.

At the winter solstice party and on Olympus after the battle of Manhattan.

Both times, it had been a particularly awkward conversation.

He expects this one to be the same.

"Hi dad, thank you for coming I guess ? You really didn't have to though, a pegasus or something would have sufficed."

He thinks he sees something akin to hurt flashing in Hermes' eyes.

It can't be, the guy can't think that after eighteen years of almost total absence, it would normal for him to pop up like that.

Silence hovers for two good minutes before Hermes finally remembers that a conversation is something that requires two willing participants.

"It's alright, I have a little time before going to work again."

No you don't

Yeah, Aphrodite wants her new fragrance right now boss

"Hey George and Martha, I don't any rats for you guys, sorry."

Two groans of disappointment echo in his head, making him chuckle.

"Tell Aphrodite to wait, I'm pressed with more urgent matters right now." Hermes orders to George and Martha.

"So, hum, are you going to teleport to Camp ? Or maybe give me a ride ?", He tentatively asks, not sure about why Hermes is still here.

"Yes, but I was hoping we could talk."

Talk ?

When time is flying and Connor is getting closer and closer to death ?

"Can't this wait ? Connor's life is literally a matter of time."

"Oh, don't worry, you'll make it in time," says Hermes dismissing his concerns, "I just want to have a nice conversation with you, a father to a son ?"

For the first time, Travis feels anger towards Hermes.

"Don't worry ? My brother is dying ! You have waited eighteen years, you can wait a couple of hours more !" He snaps, not caring at that moment that he is talking to a god.

"I'm your father and I-"

"No ! Don't call me that, you don't deserve it. Do you know how many times I prayed to you, asked you to help Connor and me ? I didn't need a big gesture, just a sign that you cared." His voice breaks, all the emotions he guarded for so long getting out all together, "You want to be father ? Bring me to Connor now and I'll talk with you all the time you want after. Just...just let me make sure he's safe first. I can't lose him."

He's feeling raw, vulnerable and he's pretty sure he's going to get blasted for screaming at a god, basically calling him an atrocious father.

He braces himself for what awaits him, maybe he'll get turned to a rabbit. No, not a rabbit, too fast, but a slug. Now that's a good punishment, he'll be a disgusting slimy creature until some toddler decides to step on him out of pure curiosity.

He is not ready for his father's arms surrounding him, for the warmth he emits.

With an absent father and an alcoholic mother, there hasn't been real parental figures for Travis. He has never known a mother's protecting and kind embrace, a dad throwing him on his shoulder, walking with him head upside down and laughing.

He thought that he didn't need that, how could he missed something he never knew ?

When he hugs back his father fiercely, not caring of the tears wetting his father's postman uniform, he realises how much he had been craving it.

"I'm, hum, sorry about that," he sniffles, "I shouldn't blown like that, I don't know what happened but-"

"I'm the one who should apologise, Travis." Hermes cuts him off, looking at him with sadness.

"You are right, I have no right to call myself your father, I have done nothing to deserve it. I will bring you to Connor but I want you to know this." Hermes looks right into his eyes, "You have become an incredible demigod, a true son of mine and I couldn't be more proud than the way you care for your family, Travis."

"Thanks, dad." He answers with a strangled voice, "We'll talk with Connor once he's safe and sound right ?"

"Oh, absolutely. You're not the only Stoll to deserve a hug." His father jokes, a little smile gracing his features.

"I don't think Aphrodite is going to like that."

"I'll give her a discount, she'll be fine. Now come on, close your eyes."

Hermes begins glowing and Travis dutifully closes his eyes.

Of course Hermes is big softie for his children (:

But you know, he's still a god, nothing like a good reality check to show him that he deserves worst dad award.

[sweet-child-of-night]

A chat between athesist and the devil

The train rattled rhythmically, each clickety-clack echoing through Mark's head like a metronome counting down the minutes until he could crawl into his own bed. He hadn't slept well the night before, his mind a tangled mess of work deadlines and an overflowing inbox. He glanced out the window, the grey cityscape blurring past at an uninspired pace. A sigh escaped his lips, a puff of warm air against the cool glass.

Suddenly, a booming voice cut through the rhythmic clatter. "Excuse me, sir, mind if I share your seat?"

Mark flinched, startled from his reverie. A man sat there, already taking up half the space. He was an odd one: light dress shirt straining against a not-so-subtle paunch, a loosened tie askew, and hair slicked back like an oil slick catching the harsh fluorescent light. His eyes, however, were the most unsettling part - beady black and wholly devoid of warmth.

"Uh, sure," Mark mumbled, scooting his briefcase over with a reluctance he couldn't quite explain.

The man grinned, a wide, toothy affair that sent a shiver down Mark's spine. "Thanks. You wouldn't happen to have a light, would you?"

Mark shook his head, surprised by the request. People rarely smoked these days, and certainly not on public transportation. "No, sorry. I don't smoke."

"Wouldn't have figured you for the type anyway," the man said, his gaze lingering on Mark's worn backpack. "More of a non-believer, I'd wager."

Mark raised an eyebrow. "Believer? Believer in what?"

"The whole, you know, God stuff," the man said, his voice dripping with a knowing amusement. "The purpose of existence. Why, in this absurd universe, are we forced to endure meaninglessness?"

Mark scoffed. "Not really. There's no proof, is there? Just a bunch of empty promises and fear-mongering."

Proof?" The man chuckled, a low rumble that resonated with a disturbing familiarity. "What constitutes proof these days, hmm? Can you prove love exists? Can you measure the weight of a soul on a scale?"

They settled into an uneasy silence, broken only by the rhythmic clatter of the train. Mark tried to bury himself back in his magazine, but the man's unsettling presence and words hung heavy in the air. Finally, he couldn't hold back any longer.

"Look, mister," Mark started, his voice a touch sharper than intended, "whatever your game is, I'm not interested in existential angst."

The man's grin widened, if that was even possible. "Existential angst? No, my friend. Just a little..." he paused, searching for the right word, "...curiosity. Curiosity about the human capacity for faith. In a world devoid of inherent meaning, why do we cling to these illusions of a benevolent God?"

Mark felt a spark ignite within him, a flicker of defiance against the man's nihilism. "Maybe because the alternative is too terrifying," he countered. "Maybe without hope, without some grand purpose, life becomes utterly meaningless. A cruel joke played on an unsuspecting audience."

"Ah, the comfort of delusion," the man sighed, a hint of something akin to sadness flickering in his dark eyes. "But what if meaning is a burden we create ourselves? What if true freedom lies in embracing the absurdity, the chaos? As Nietzsche would say, 'God is dead,' and with him, all imposed meaning."

Mark felt a tremor of unease. This wasn't just idle conversation. The man spoke with a conviction that chilled him to the bone. "But without some moral compass, without a higher power to guide us, wouldn't humanity descend into chaos?"

“Perhaps," the man conceded. "But perhaps that chaos is the fertile ground from which true creation can blossom. Dostoevsky would argue that without suffering, without wrestling with the darkness, we cannot truly appreciate the light."

The train lurched unexpectedly, throwing them both off balance for a moment. As it settled back on its tracks, the man held up a hand, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "But enough philosophy for now. Perhaps I can offer you a more...visual demonstration."

With a flick of his wrist, a swirling vortex materialized in the air between them, hidden from the rest of the train by the backs of the seats in front. Mark stared, mesmerized and horrified, as a fiery landscape unfolded before him. Grotesque creatures swarmed over tortured souls, the air thick with the stench of sulfur.

The man snapped his fingers, and the vortex sealed shut as abruptly as it had opened. The smell of sulfur lingered, a sickly sweet reminder of what Mark had just witnessed. He stared at the man, speechless, his terror a stark contrast to the amusement dancing in the man's eyes.

"So," the man drawled, "convinced now of the existence of...let's just say a very important being?"

Mark could only manage a shaky nod. He scrambled out of his seat, a maelstrom of emotions churning within him. Fear, yes, but also a strange sense of awe, and a flicker of something else - a desperate hope.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," the man said, his voice surprisingly gentle. He reached out a hand, but Mark flinched away, scrambling towards the next car. The train attendant shot him a bewildered look as he practically ran past him, but Mark didn't care. He just needed to get away.

Settling into a new seat, Mark tried to piece together what had just happened. Had he really just seen Hell? And if that man was who he said he was...well Lucifer himself…

Mark felt a cold dread grip his heart. The man reappeared in the seat beside him, a mocking smile playing on his lips.

"Lost in thought, are we?" he said, his voice dripping with amusement. "You humans are such curious creatures. You crave meaning, yet you reject the very forces that offer it. You cling to the hope of a benevolent God, yet you fear the consequences of his opposite."

The man leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "But here's the truth, my friend. There is no grand design, no cosmic plan. There's just existence, in all its chaotic glory. And you, with your free will, your capacity for love and hate, creation and destruction – you are the ones who give it meaning. You are the artists painting on the canvas of oblivion, even if the canvas itself is meaningless."

Mark stared at him, a mixture of fear and defiance rising within him. "So, what are you saying? That we're all doomed to wander this meaningless existence?"

The man's smile turned cold. "Doomed? No. Free. Utterly, terrifyingly free. Free to create your own purpose, your own morality, your own heaven or hell. But most of you," he continued, his voice laced with a bitter amusement, "are too afraid to embrace that freedom. You cling to the comfort of lies, the safety of preordained meaning. How very… human."

The train screeched to a halt, jolting them both. The man winked at Mark, then dissolved into a puff of sulfurous smoke, leaving behind only the lingering scent of brimstone and a chilling truth: in the grand cosmic joke, humanity was both the punchline and the playwright