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snailsgoingdowntown · 3 months

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Help, I Reincarnated as the Female Lead's Sister in Law!

Re-upload due to complications.

Chapter 1

Dion x Fem! Reader

Warnings: possible yandere themes, arranged marriage, toxic relationship, slight incestual themes due to the content of “Roxana,” blood, mention of murder

Nsfw warnings: Lost of virginity (both parties?), fingering, oral (fem receiving), spit, reader does NOT get to finish, vaginal pain, HEAVY DUB/CON.

Disclaimer: I do NOT condone any of the harmful and dangerous actions/behaviors that takes place in this piece of fiction. These actions/behaviors should not be normalized or romanticized as they are extremely toxic and dangerous.

Minors/blank/blogs that don’t reblog fanfiction dni and don’t span like my posts or you will be blocked.

Overall story summary: you reincarnated into one of your favorite novel-turned-webtoons. However, you didn't want to become the female lead's sister-in-law...

Word count: 4542k

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“The Way to Protect the Female Lead’s Older Brother,” also known as “ROXANA” was a rather dark novel that was adapted into a webtoon. And as luck would have it, the webtoon wasn’t finished, and you don’t remember all the details of the fan translated web novel you found online.

Now, why would that be a problem? Simple:

You reincarnated into it. Not as a main character, or even a servant to one of the families. You weren’t a child of Lant’s or one of his many wives. You weren’t a friend to one of his children, either. Instead, it was worse than most of what was listed.

Whatever God you managed to piss off had a silly little, petty revenge plan that was straight out of a third-rate horror novel with teenage girls fawning over it. And truthfully, if written right, the non-existent novel would have been a banger – but no, instead it was anything but. Or maybe you only really think that because of your position in this world, where your birth was simple, but painful for your mother, and you were lucky enough to be born into a family that loved and cared for and about you.

It was a noble family, to boot. Wealthy enough to live a comfortable life. Two siblings – an older sister who was already married at the age of thirty with a child on the way. The other was a 12-year-old boy who made it his life mission to be the most annoying little piece of shit on earth.

But as you lay on your back, hands holding your nightgown in place, all you could think about was how small Dion Argece makes you feel. The wedding ceremony just finished up hours ago, and here you are, back pressed against silk sheets as your now-husband hovers over you.

(Name) Argece.

What a horrible name and cruel faith.

Inky black hair that falls into his carmine red eyes that held indifference. His wedding-tux was still on, even the outer jacket with the silly lone rose in his pocket. Oh, what a shame – to be married to such a handsome man only for him to be obsessed with his sister and emotionally unavailable.

God despises you.

“Close your eyes if you’re uncomfortable.”

He unbuttons his outer jacket, sliding it off his shoulders and tosses it to the side. You should close your eyes, you think, because his face was nothing but stone. Not even a condescending grin. He doesn’t comfort you, either – at least not in the typical sense.

“Keep still,” his gloved hands grab your thighs and you let him open them, creating space for him to get closer. You want to push him away and run. But what good would that do? Why couldn’t the man just slice something and claim that the blood on the sheets was from your first night?

“I’m scared.” You speak without thinking, becoming stiff as his hands traveled from your outer thigh to the inner, creeping underneath your nightgown. His gloves feel cold and uncomfortable, touch borderline rough. “I – I need a moment. Please?”

He tilts his head, giving it thought. After a moment he removes himself, but annoyance radiates off him. Your heart beats faster as the second’s pass. You remain on your back. The ceiling is painted white, no decorations and the room was bare saved for a dresser, closet, mirror and a random chair by the window.

You will be sleeping in here, from now on.

“Can’t do it? Then don’t.” he’s annoyed, surely, otherwise he wouldn’t look at you like you were an insect. What a wonderful way to start the newlywed life. But it’s not that easy to walk away, and while it sounds like he’s giving you a say-so, he isn’t; if you don’t consummate your marriage tonight, then…

“… I’m sorry. It’s my first time and I heard there would be pain.” You shouldn’t have to explain yourself. But Dion wasn’t exactly known for his… compassion. Or basic human emotions, either.

If this was someone else, would you be able to do it? Where did everything go wrong? This didn’t happen in the novel; Dion didn’t get married. There wasn’t a grand wedding with the Five Ruling Families in attendance. Nor was there a steamy scene with this man throughout the novel, not even in the side stories.

How did you end up here?

“Then relax.” If you weren’t scared of losing your life you would have run him over. It affects everything! Then again, it wouldn’t matter to him – this is a duty. Not something he wanted, you’re sure, and even if he did it would only have his best interests in mind.

“… I’m ready.” You don’t answer him, because it would only lead to a one-sided argument. Even a wall listens better. Despite your wishes, Dion does the same as last – settles in-between your legs, and this time, you close your eyes.

“Good. Try to relax or it won’t fit.” Your cheeks burn at that, mind already picturing how it would look. Many men say things like that, even in your old world. It’s just a thing they said, like with many things. It doesn’t really mean anything, because if it did then…

His gloves are still on, cold and grip tight on your thighs. You were hoping he would be gentler. But as his hands travel up and up until they’re pulling at the edges of your underwear to slide them down, you realize he won’t.

There’s no slickness down there, your underwear dry and vagina even drier. You peek through your eyelashes, watching as he inspects the article of clothing. He tosses it a few seconds later.

“I’m only going to ask once – would you rather keep your clothes on or off?” It seems that with every second reality just hits harder and harder. This was going to happen. Nothing could stop it. And if hypothetically, if he were to stop this, what then?

Even if he sliced an arm to fake the night, what about later? A baby, Lant wants Dion to have a child. No. You couldn’t do that to a child, especially yours.

“On. Please.” You expect him to just shove in a finger or two, watching as your body jerks in pain. Instead, he lifts your hips until your bottom was off the bed and flips the flimsy skirt up. And then there’s a glob of something wet and gooey, legs twitching as it lands on your bare cunt.

“D – did you just… spit?” steading yourself on your arms, you look on in disbelief as your husband just spat on your pussy. A string of saliva hangs from his tongue.

Instead of answering you, much less look at you, his thumb comes into play and spreads his saliva over the surface of your cunt. It’s only when his thumb swipes over your clit do you let out a shaky breath.

Maybe he was feeling generous or maybe he was curious. Dion decided to rub the twitching nub over and over until your legs twitch and cunt clenched around nothing. The glove made it uncomfortable, but even so, you just tried your best to focus on the pleasure. You weren’t sure if he would give you pleasure like this again.

“You’re enjoying this,” he retreats his hand leaving your twitching and needy clit lonely.

A pathetic whimper escapes as you watch your husband take his glove off with his teeth. This man is everything you fear and more, a character that you should have never met. Yet the sight of him lowering his head to lick a long stride against your slit has your legs shaking.

His tongue is warm and slimy, causing your hands to clench the sheets as your head falls back. Another lick and another until it’s flicking your clit back and forth, sending warmth throughout your body. However, despite the pleasure he’s giving you, his grip is still tight, almost painful on your hips.

Your heartbeat doesn’t slow down as he continues. Your fear barely dies down in your chest, even as the tip of his tongue teases your entrance. You shut your eyes tight, a breathless gasp leaving your lips as he thrusts his tongue into your cunt.

“It feels – “a pause as you catch your breath, “weird, it feels really weird and – “

Dion repeats the action until you’re a trembling mess, sensitive from your mental state and the current oral sex you’re receiving. It’s hard to focus on either one, your mind constantly reminding you that you’re in a novel, about to fuck a man who’s jaded and possibly has a thing for his sister –

“Ah… wait, that’s a lot…” he decides to go further, bringing his thumb back and rubs loose circles into your clit. He’s still eating you out, but not like a man starved like you read in erotic novels.

Even so, your husband keeps at it. If it was a good or bad thing was up for debate – on one hand, while it does feel good, everything is moving too fast, your pleas for slowing down falling on deaf ears. It really is a lot, tongue fucking you while those loose circles on your clit become tighter, rougher. Should you just lay back and take what he gives?

Your mother would probably say so. Your sister would just pat your head and smile like it was expected. Normal. Take what he gives, especially if it benefits you in any way.

“…?” your eyes open at his tongue leaving your cunt with a saliva trail, his eyes glued to your twitching sex. His thumb also stops rubbing circles, instead going back to grip your hip as your back starts to become sore. Your ass is still off the bed and if he keeps you hosted up like this, then you really will snap in half.

But then he locks eyes with you.

“I thought you were scared.” Dion doesn’t let you respond, either because he doesn’t care or because it would ruin the ‘mood.’ He latches his mouth to your poor, abused nub instead. And sucks.

“H-hey!” one hand supporting you while the other grabs at his hair, you didn’t expect him to throw your legs over his shoulders. “That’s enough, really, no need to – ugh…” his mouth was warm and soft, but it sends your nerves on fire.

Good. Bad. Good. Bad.

Good, bad, does it matter anymore?

He sucks harder and your fingers tug harshly at his hair. You kick your legs but are unable to tell if it’s from pleasure or the flight or fight response he’s causing you. He doesn’t budge, doesn’t bat an eye, making it his life mission to suck you dry.

“Ah – wait, Dion – “

It’s at your whine of his name does he finally, finally stop, a ‘pop’ when he detaches his mouth from your sensitive and bullied clit. Your husband decides to lick one last long stripe from your entrance to your clit, all the while making eye contact with you. Your chest heaves as your mind settles, arousal overthrowing your thoughts.

“What is it?” Monotone, his voice is monotone and he’s not even out of breath. Your mother lied, there’s not even a hint of pink across those cheeks. It’s fine, though – no, it’s not, it’s baffling how steady he seems when your back is about to break, and you can’t even breathe.

Your eyes travel from his to his hair, where your hand is still grasping the strands. Mind still catching up to your body, you let go and draw your hand back, covering your eyes with it. Your entire body is shaky and legs sore. You’re not used to this position.

“It – it’s enough.” Your husband lets you pull your legs back, feet pressing against his broad shoulders as you bring them back down. The relief is almost immediate, a pleasurable and relief-filled sigh leaving your chest. You allow yourself to rest for a bit, your sensitive cunt and sore legs screaming for it.

“… O – okay, I think, I think that’s fine. Excuse me…” gently, you pull one leg up until your foot is flat against the bed. With a shudder, you trace your entrance timidly with two fingers, getting used to the touch. You’re not sure of how big he was, but you’ll use three fingers just in case.

You gape like a fish when his hand reaches out, grabbing yours roughly. You didn’t even notice the dip in the mattress as Dion got closer on his knees, face inches away from yours. Oh God, now what –

“What are you doing?” clearly annoyed, Dion doesn’t let you look away – not that you were going to – free hand grabbing your face, pointer finger and thumb on each cheek. It’s barely loose enough to leave no bruises. It hurts regardless.

“I – I was… prepping…” part of you wants to pretend that this man doesn’t know how to comfortably prepare you for pentation with his… but you know better. Because an inexperienced man wouldn’t know how to do things with his tongue like that, or where the clit was because –

“Are you still scared?” The hand that was holding yours releases it, opting to sneak its way to your cunt. His fingers were larger than yours, nimbler as they stroke your labia minora. Are the shivers washing over you from nervousness or arousal?

“… I’m scared of the pain.” By instinct, you knew he meant more than scared of sex – if you feared him. Still.

It doesn’t need to be said.

“Scared of the pain?” His eyes glow in the moonlight, bright red with absolutely no emotion. “Why?” he doesn’t break eye contact as his fingers inch closer to your entrance, stroking the opening, making your legs jolt. What a horrible man.

You remind yourself that this man only felt fear as a child – and even then, it probably wasn’t for very long. Nothing lasts for long, in this estate.

“Because I hate it.” You don’t break eye contact either, breathing in when one finger slowly sinks in, your walls now stretching uncomfortably. It’s not as painful as you thought it would be, your wetness mixed with his saliva making it easier. Your nails are about to rip holes in the silk sheets.

Like a curious animal, he tilts his head, curling his finger. It doesn’t feel good, it hurts, but you endure it even when you wince. Dion decides it would be a good idea to spread your legs a bit further, and like a bug, crawls between them even more. You hiccup when he adds a second finger.

They’re bigger than yours, they reach deeper. In your old world, did it feel like this too? You can’t remember.

“It’s going to hurt worse if you don’t let me finish this. Relax your legs before it hurts worse.” Pressure builds in your eyes, but you fight it off. “Save your tears for when it matters.”

You’re tired of him already.

He doesn’t move them, at first. It’s almost like he expects this, because as you adjust to something foreign inside you, he starts to rub at your clit, again. Softly this time, touch firm enough to feel but not hard enough to hurt. Or maybe you’re lying to yourself because you’re wincing, still.

When he starts to thrust them in and out, you force yourself to look at the ceiling, scared to see the expression on his face. You also don’t want to watch the show, scared it’ll already be bloody. Just a bit.

“It’s tight.” He states it like it’s the morning news. “And wet.” Your cheeks burn with both shame and embarrassment, shutting your eyes.

“… ugh…,” groaning, your hand reaches out to grab his wrist. “It hurts, a lot.” You sit up, back against the headboard, avoiding your husband’s gaze. Unfortunately, by doing this, your eyes land on your messy hole, light blood on his fingers as he pulls them out only to thrust them in again.

“It’s normal. The more you resist the worse it gets.” You give up, letting him do as he pleases, shutting your mouth.

The fingering still hurts as the minutes go by, but little by little the pressure eases down and when he arches his hand, he hits something soft and spongy. He’s rewarded the sight of your head banging against the headboard once, shoulder tense as you bite your bottom lip.

If only you could see that look in his eyes.

“Here?” He repeats the action, faster this time. You only nod your head, lips ajar, tongue swiping over them. Your hips have a mind of their own, raising as the heel of his hand rapidly smacks against your clit with his thrust of his hand.

You’re half there mentally and halfway in heaven, momently forgetting just who was here with you, who room this belonged to, and your entire situation to begin with. “Oh - wait, it’s a lot but – “

A third finger is added, and it starts to sting again. Another wince, another groan, but your arousal helps to keep the pain to minimum. All three fingers curl to hit that special spot that makes you see blacked out stars and pussy clench. All the while light blood coats his fingers, a sight he’s already used to due to his lifestyle.

It’s only when he pulls his hand away completely do you return from the skies, a small layer of sweet coating your forehead. Your hands are shaky as you look at him, only to be drowned back into reality when you’re met with those red, indifferent eyes that glow brighter than the moon.

“If you’re ready, lay on your back and spread your legs.” He undoes his pants while saying this, scooting back to give you some room.

With a heavy heart, you do so, laying on your back and spread your legs. You were fine just moments ago, so why is your heart leaping out of your throat rather than staying in your chest? Maybe it was because of the pleasure, or…

You’re scared, again.

You don’t look when something fat and heavy plops onto your pelvis. You don’t look when he brings you closer by your thighs. You don’t look as he rubs the head of his cock against your slick folds, catching on your clit.

“Relax or it won’t fit,” he reminds you before pushing the fat head in. At first, it’s a sting no bigger than an ant bite. But then another inch goes in, and you feel like a sword is cutting you straight up open, your legs tensing and hands grasping his forearms in a futile attempt to stop him.

Your nails dig into his sleeves, and you can feel the skin underneath. The tears build up as your face becomes hot, taking in deep breaths like it would soften the intruding body part.

“Big – it’s too big, it’s not going to fit – “

“… You look cute when you cry.” It’s sinister, teasing and everything that makes your stomach drop. His thumb wipes away your tears that’s already staining your skin. But he stops regardless, if only to shut you up if nothing else.

You think a few minutes pass but it’s hard to tell when he’s still inside, pulsing and you could feel every vein on his cock. It’s thick, it’s big and you don’t think you’re equipped to handle it, handle him. He’s everything that ruins your sense of self, that makes your dreams shatter and fear rot you from the inside out.

But he’s your husband…

But he’s your husband.

“Relax,” he inches in deeper, slower this time, but not letting you get a word in. Your nails dig deeper, and if it weren’t for his shirt, you would have drawn blood. Another inch, another gasp that leaves you breathless, grasping for anything that could keep you grounded. The only thing you could grab was him, however.

“Dion, Dion, you’re going to break me, I can’t – I can’t – “

“You can. You have to.” Was his voice raspy, just now? If so, it worries you, because you just remembered one very important detail – Dion Argece was, if nothing else, a sadist. Be it from his childhood trauma, or if he would be like this regardless of, he loved seeing Roxana cried.

It never occurred to you that he would love seeing you cry, too.

How deep was he? It feels you’re being speared open, his cock bullying its way into your virgin hole. You weren’t a virgin in your last life, but it didn’t hurt like this. It had hurt, felt like you were being ripped, but not enough to make you cry and breathless.

You think you can feel blood trickling down your ass crack. “Please tell me you’re almost there, please…” sniffling, you look up at your husband, the man taking your virginity in the name of ‘marriage.’ A mirror shatters in the back of your mind.

There was a flush across his cheeks. Pupils blown wide and a small grin on his lips. He was enjoying this. Your pain, your tears and perhaps even your fear – he was enjoying this.

It would have been better if he didn’t feel anything, you think. Just a stone statue that was performing its task. But even monsters had emotions, you guess.

“I’m not. Just endure it for a bit longer – I’ll stop once I’m at the hilt.” Was he a liar in the novel? You think he was, otherwise, the overtaking of the Argece family wouldn’t have happened. Lant wouldn't be dead. But things haven’t followed the novel to a T – this was proof enough.

“You’ll stop? Like, completely? You – you took my virginity, so that should be enough. Right?”

You hate it when he keeps wiping your tears away. Or when he slides in even more, your blood coating his stupid dick. You hate it when he brings one hand to toy with your clit, granting you pleasure that was just overthrown by the smothering pain traveling up to your belly.

He doesn’t answer. And that was enough for you to rake your nails down the back of neck, drawing blood in return. He’s making you bleed, so it was only fair if you could too, right?

Deeper and deeper until his balls rest against your bottom and pelvic meeting yours. Surprisingly, your husband keeps his word, letting you adjust to the new feeling. It feels heavy. It feels like a heartbeat, like a rod that was stuck. It felt awful.

How long did it take you to get used to it, in the past? No longer than fifteen minutes max, right? No, shorter than that. Then again, it didn’t hurt this much, but that partner was more loving, more caring, gentler –

“Who are you thinking about?”

The question breaks you out of your daze. You blink, once, before you question him back. He only glares in response.

Panic fills you when he pulls out, pain still there, blood still trickling down. “Wait, you’re – “

“I’m what?” he pulls out until only the head remained inside. You try your best to ignore the bruising grip he has on your hips. You’re going to be sore tomorrow. If you survive this, anyway.

God, if you’re listening, please let this night end peacefully.

“B-big. It’s going to hurt, please don’t…” dragging your hands down from his neck to his chest, your fingers dig into his shirt.

“Hm. A shame, really; you still must give birth, eventually. It’s better to get used to it now than later.” Your mind doesn’t catch up with your body, legs tensing when he slides oh so carefully back in, like he didn’t just push your worries aside like nothing. “Relax.”

“Dion,” hiccupping, you brace yourself, head nuzzling into his chest as your hold on his shirt tightens. When he pulls back out, you could feel every detail, every vein trail, his grith truly opening you. He graces you a mercy, going at a languid pace, minimizing the pain. His thumb never stopped rubbing your clit, either.

It goes like that, for a good while. Slow and steady, your hushed sobs dying on your lips, your husband careful with his thrusts, but not his grip. It was almost comforting, in a way. But you were still scared of him, and of what will happen after this.

“… I have a proposition.”

His hips stop and your ears perk up.

“You want me to stop, correct?” Dion pulls back until he’s on his heels, his cock dragging along your walls. You wince before breathing out. He doesn’t even try to hide the sadistic look in his eye as he sees the dried tear streaks on your cheeks. He almost grins in glee.

“Y-yes…” You don’t let go of his shirt. “Why…?” there’s hope inside you, but dread starts to rot it away.

“Jerk it.”

“…what?”

He was different from the novel. Extremely so, because you doubt that Dion would suggest a thing, much less give you a choice in the matter. That Dion would have either ignored you and this night or take you as is, no mercy, no humanity granted if this took place at the beginning at the novel.

When he doesn’t repeat himself, you pull yourself up until you’re resting on your knees. The sight of blood both on his cock and the sheets make you gag and thankfully, he doesn’t comment on it. Hesitantly, you take him into your hands, fingers barely able to close around it.

It throbs in your hand.

Your blood is coating your hands now, too.

Only silence is between you, your hands working him. Your thumb swipes over his head, circling it before stroking his dick up and down. Your other hand plays with his balls, massaging them. You’re not sure how long it would take him to finish.

Your core throbs in pain, and you become worried over the thought of peeing. It would probably hurt.

You want to sleep.

Without giving it much thought, just like your husband, you spit on it, a glob of saliva falling onto the staff. It throbs harder. And when you look at him, tired eyes and drool still dripping down from your tongue, still jerking him off –

“…Ngh…”

It’s almost cute, the way sperm spurts out and makes a mess on your hands. The very small and fleeting look of embarrassment on his feature is almost enough to comfort you. But when there’s barely a sheen of sweat adoring his forehead, unlike you was still recovering, you’re reminded that your husband was different from you.

There are no kisses, no sweet nothings shared between lovers. No stroking your hair or comforting your trembling form as your legs shake. Or even an offer to warm a bath for you, the warm water soothing your body. There’s none of that.

Not even a smile.

“Welcome to the Argece family, wife.”

Instead, all that awaits you is a restless sleep on a bloodied mattress with a husband who left after cleaning himself up.

Which God despises you so much and why?

#dion agriche #dion argece #Dion x reader #yandere dion agriche #deon argece #dion agriche smut #the way to protect the female lead's older brother #twtptflob #deon agrece x reader

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edenmemes · 1 year

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resident evil: 4 remake starters

❝ man, that stinks. ❞ ❝ this just keeps getting worse. ❞ ❝ you’re still a kid holding onto fantasies of what’s right and wrong. ❞ ❝ i’m gonna let you in on a little secret. just between us. ❞ ❝ the hell is going on? ❞ ❝ hey, we’re a team, right? ❞ ❝ where’s everyone going? bingo? ❞ ❝ you and me are two sides of the same coin. ❞ ❝ that’s just like you. you always had poor judgement. ❞ ❝ ah, so you aren’t heartless after all. ❞ ❝ like i told you, i’m gonna get you home safe. ❞ ❝ i’m not falling for your mind games. ❞ ❝ you proved you can handle yourself. ❞ ❝ you haven’t changed a damn bit. ❞ ❝ you look like you’ve got something to say. ❞ ❝ gotta fix everything myself. ❞ ❝ you can’t run. you got to keep moving forward. ❞ ❝ you’re nothing but an extra in my script. ❞ ❝ i thought you were gonna die. ❞ ❝ i don’t pay you to ask questions. ❞ ❝ there’s no time for resting. ❞ ❝ revenge? you think i’m doing all this...for revenge? ❞ ❝ i need you to trust me, and do exactly as i say. ❞ ❝ you’re too soft to do what’s necessary. ❞ ❝ i know your potential better than anyone. ❞ ❝ you’ve made it all this way, but you haven’t learned a thing. ❞ ❝ maybe you’ll live to meet me again. ❞ ❝ the most important thing in this world is pure, unadulterated power. ❞ ❝ i’ve something to ask you...but i don’t think i’ll get a straight answer. ❞ ❝ you didn’t answer my question. what’re you after? ❞ ❝ you know, you were always an asshole. ❞ ❝ you have a strange sense of humor. ❞ ❝ you are nothing if not unyielding. ❞ ❝ i just wanna feel good about myself. make amends. or something like that. ❞ ❝ just give me a heads-up before you stab me next time, okay? ❞ ❝ it’s okay to be afraid, you know. ❞ ❝ what do you think? people can change, right? ❞ ❝ not looking good, eh, my friend? ❞ ❝ you try to save one person; a hundred others die. ❞ ❝ was that an act of defiance? against me? ❞ ❝ a well-tuned weapon can make up for a lack of skill. ❞ ❝ i’ll let myself out. ❞ ❝ you won’t get away with this. ❞ ❝ be a shame to live the rest of your life wondering ‘what if’ - am i right? ❞ ❝ you have the stench of battle on you. ❞ ❝ so, tell me, why did you come to this horrible place? ❞ ❝ you wanna help? cause i could use it. ❞ ❝ if i could just forget what happened that night, the pain - even for a second... ❞ ❝ i knew i could count on you. ❞ ❝ i think you’d be pretty dashing in it. ❞ ❝ i’m not used to having such good company. ❞ ❝ hey. it’s dangerous outside. ❞ ❝ god damn...i was almost a pancake. ❞ ❝ a lot of people have gone missing around here. and it’s been like that for a while now. ❞ ❝ sorry. i, uh, screwed up. ❞ ❝ i’m so scared. when that happened...i wasn’t myself any more. ❞ ❝ well done. you’ve proven yourself reliable. ❞ ❝ won’t be going anywhere in this thing. ❞ ❝ sorry, didn’t realize that was yours. ❞ ❝ this time, it can be different. it has to. ❞ ❝ everything will work out just fine. ❞ ❝ you missed. that’s not like you. ❞ ❝ come to my rescue, prince charming! ❞ ❝ sometimes it’s more fun not knowing. ❞ ❝ if you do well, i’ll make it worth your while. ❞ ❝ that hurts, you know. ❞ ❝ this is one hell of a gloomy place. ❞ ❝ why help me, though? what’s in it for you? ❞ ❝ oh, well, maybe just untie me then? ❞ ❝ knowledge is power. remember that. ❞ ❝ i can’t tell if that’s meant to be a compliment. ❞ ❝ i’m sure you’ll do your best to help me. ❞ ❝ bill me for the repairs later. ❞ ❝ it seemed like you really wanted to talk. ❞ ❝ you know, those things will kill you. ❞ ❝ you haven’t changed. you just think you have. ❞ ❝ don’t let the smallfry distract you from the big fish. ❞ ❝ quiet type, eh? ❞ ❝ guess you picked the wrong spot to vacation. ❞ ❝ a most warm welcome to my castle. ❞ ❝ bet you’ve been in spots like this before. ❞ ❝ to think you could be this foolish. ❞ ❝ give me a break already. ❞ ❝ i’m sorry. i wish i could do more to help. ❞ ❝ i don’t want to recall what happened down there. ❞ ❝ years haven’t been kind to us, i suppose. ❞ ❝ finally, some peace and quiet. ❞ ❝ who are you? and what are you doing here? ❞ ❝ i’m just an average guy who happens to be quite the ladies’ man. ❞ ❝ you should really be telling me what a good job i did. ❞ ❝ is this the first time you coughed up blood like this? ❞ ❝ so much for helping me. ❞ ❝ so, who are you working for this time? ❞ ❝ you think i’m gonna give up that easily? ❞ ❝ hey, are you sure you’re good? ❞ ❝ i’m gonna get you home safe. ❞ ❝ i have a plan. but you’re going to have to trust me. ❞ ❝ gimme some space. ❞ ❝ i don’t get you. why risk your life like this? ❞ ❝ it’s a little over-the-top, don’t you think? ❞ ❝ they’re coming! get behind me. ❞ ❝ does that hurt? are you in pain? distressed? ❞ ❝ you are really starting to become a giant pain in my ass. ❞ ❝ you know i don’t work and tell. ❞ ❝ you’ve done well to make it this far. ❞ ❝ tell someone who gives a shit. ❞ ❝ happy to help. now you owe me. ❞ ❝ are you just trying to use me again? ❞ ❝ what’re you, my mother? ❞ ❝ i’m definitely gonna catch a cold. ❞ ❝ this artwork...doesn’t it look like it’s telling some kind of story? ❞ ❝ what do we do? there’s no way out. ❞ ❝ what’s wrong with wanting the same for myself? ❞ ❝ it’s a little old fashioned for my taste. ❞ ❝ you’re losing your cool. making mistakes. ❞ ❝ don’t scare me like that. ❞ ❝ you’re slow. and so goddamn weak. ❞ ❝ wow, you’ve really gone all out for me! you shouldn’t have. ❞ ❝ i will send you back to the hell you came from. ❞ ❝ heheh, having a rough day? ❞ ❝ the reaper comes for cowards and the careless alike. which are you? ❞ ❝ i’ve got to think. need to get my head straight. ❞ ❝ i shall leave tomorrow. go far away. ❞ ❝ here’s my question...have you changed? ❞ ❝ we will beat this. together. ❞ ❝ what’s wrong? show no mercy! ❞ ❝ i admit - you’ve done well to stay alive this long. ❞ ❝ this means death. a slow, miserable death. ❞

#rp meme #rp starters #roleplay meme #roleplay starters

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mins-fins · 2 months

Text

june 20th.

&&. on june 20th, the world ended. the sky turned orange and the ground beneath your feet cracked.

pairing: lee donghyuck x m!reader

genre: fluff?? angst??

warnings: mentions of death

word count: 1k

notes: this is one of the strangest things i think ive written in a long time 😭 i have no idea how this idea came to be in the first place i kinda just wrote out what came to my mind?? i also spent so long trying to figure out which nct member to write this for and i literally just picked hc because he's my sisters favorite member (#THANKSTI) so yeah idk why this exists but it does 🤷‍♂️

on june 20th, your alarm rang two minutes early.

on june 20th, you gave your mother a kiss on the cheek before leaving for school.

on june 20th, you missed the bus and were forced to walk the whole way to school.

on june 20th, you had walked into class late for the first time since september.

on june 20th, the sky was full of dark clouds, you assumed it was going to rain later that day.

on june 20th, you skipped one of your classes for the first time ever, biology, one you always hated.

on june 20th, you noticed seven different cracks in the sidewalk.

on june 20th, the air seemed different..

on june 20th, all that you could think about was your upcoming birthday, excitement surging through your veins.

you did what you always did. kicked small rocks, hopped over fences, hummed the lyrics to your favorite song, danced to the lyrics of your favorite song in public with no shame, skipped over the cracks on the sidewalk, did cartwheels, you were having fun.

for some reason, the day of june 20th made you feel free.

nobody could stop you, not your friends, not asshole teachers, not screaming neighbors, nobody could stop you.

well, maybe the world ending could stop you.

with a smile on your face and an energetic pep in your step, you make your way through the now noisy neighborhood.

people are screaming, the sky is an unnatural color, the air feels as if it's slowly poisoning your lungs, the cracks beneath your feet have now doubled in number.

but for some reason, you feel easy?

the prospect of the world ending is a funny one, one you never thought you'd be living ever. in movies, it's branded as such a horrible thing, but you don't think you've ever felt happier.

the music blaring through your headphones distracts you, the people panicking around you seem more like blurs then actual people. they all have lives, some of them have children, some of them have grandchildren, some of them have family out of the country, some of them are going to be celebrating their last birthdays today, who knows what was going on in their lives earlier today that will now mean nothing in a good two hours.

your complex emotions surprise you, but the smile on your face doesn't falter, and you like that it doesn't.

because if you could spend the last moments of your life being happy, why would you be mad about that?

"everything alright? your not hurt are you?" you wrap your arms around your mother, resting your head on hers.

"i'm alright" you whisper, arms clinging around her.

your hair is disheveled, probably due to the absolute maddening things you'd been doing on the sidewalk.

"oh honey! donghyuck called, he was asking for you".

the name gets an eyebrow raise out of you.

donghyuck?

donghyuck as in lee donghyuck? he called? why would he call? why would he be asking for you? why would he—

oh, oh my goodness.

"what did he ask for?" you immediately separate from the hug, and your mother gives you a puzzled look. "did he ask for something from me specifically?"

"he just asked for you because he said he wanted to tell you something but you weren't here—"

holy shit.

"oh i have to go.."

your mother blinks once again, but then she realizes what your talking about, and she sighs. "honey, you still haven't told him?"

you don't even try to battle the allegations, just press a kiss to her cheek and make your way towards the door. "today's the day mom! the world is ending!"

your optimism shocks you, and you race out of the door, nothing else on your mind but him.

on june 20th, your life seemed to take a strange turn.

on june 20th, your mundane routine suddenly became extraordinary.

on june 20th, you realized it was your last chance to tell donghyuck how you feel.

the world is ending, the sky has turned orange, the sidewalk has began cracking beneath your feet, people are screaming, crying, clutching onto their family members, it's your last day, it's everyones last day, tomorrow, you'll all be nothing but empty corpses.

all of you have dreams, all of you had desires, things you'll never be able to pursue now because your demise is coming much sooner than you expected.

there's only one thing at your mind at the moment, and that's the most annoying person ever.

today is a day like no other, a day which will all be in memory by the time the week passes, your feet push you through the pain you feel, because you've never been able to get such words out.

where is he.. where is he.. where is he..

when you spot lee donghyuck, you shout, and he doesn't even have to look at you to know what it is.

you tackle him to ground, his back colliding with the soft grass in his front yard as you fall right on top of him. a smile comes to your face as you look down at him, with his pretty eyes and pretty smile.

"you're so stupid!" you yell, he just chuckles, letting you remain on top of him, because the world is ending, and this is it. "you called!?"

"you're literally stupider!" he rebuts. "you came!"

you scoff, oh this could've all been yours before if you weren't such a coward, but there is always a time for everything, even if this is the last time.

"i am so in love with you" you whisper, leaning down to press a kiss onto his lips. "you're such an idiot, a pretty idiot".

donghyuck just smiles, wrapping his arms around your neck. "you love me".

"of course i do".

"the world is ending, baby".

but for some reason you aren't crying.

you aren't sad, you aren't crying or anything, you're just living in the moment.

"i know, but i love you".

on june 20th, the world ended.

on june 20th, the sky turned orange and the ground beneath your feet cracked.

on june 20th, you told lee donghyuck you loved him.

on june 20th, you spent your final moments with the boy you loved the most.

#lee donghyuck #haechan #nct #nct 127 #nct dream #nct imagines #nct drabbles #nct scenarios #haechan imagines #haechan drabbles #haechan scenarios #lee donghyuck x reader #lee donghyuck x male reader #haechan x reader #haechan x male reader #𑁍 ࣪˖ 𓂃 isa's works!

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factual-fantasy · 3 months

Text

28 ASKS!! THANK YOU!! :DD

@nerdyskullcap

WAAAA THANK YTOIU SIO MUCH!! I WILL EAT THIS ASK WIRTH A SIDE OF RANCH AND CHERIGH IT FOREVERRR 💖💖✨💖😭😭

@foxythefox711

I do intend to get back around to my FNAF AU soon. Rn I'm just going through it™ and don't feel like dealing with all the work and effort it takes to draw those big comics.. I'd just rather draw simple ocs and random memes for now.

That's a good question.. I'd like to think that normally they would. But with Calico Jack loosing his leg maybe he's not as stable as he once was.. I can see the both of them jumping off of something and Kwazii sticks the landing but Jack falls flat due to his peg leg 💔

@khoiazo (Post in question)

Oh yeah I got Bonnet. :0 But thank you for the reminder! I almost forgot her too the first time around <XD

@neo-metalscottic (Post in question)

AAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH! I'M GLAD YOU LIKED THEM!! :DD And I'm glad you liked Coconut especially! I wasn't super sure of her design so this is nice to hear! :}}

As for the koopalings, they are in my Mario AU, I just never got around to properly drawing them for it-

Its intended that they live in Bowsers secret castle somewhere. Guarded by Kamek, Kammy and the entire Blue paratroopa population. :0

@ravenslog

Oh sure! No problem with that :00 Thank you so much for asking first! It means the world to me <:}}}

@citrusfruitman (Post in question)

:DD Thank you!!! And I'm glad I got the tags right <XDD

As for the Octonauts, Kwazii probably wouldn't be surprised at all XDD But everyone else would freak out. "Talking cookies???"

@minnesotamedic186

I know,, I know, I'm ashamed <XD

Making him look like Davy Jones was only way I could capture the personality I wanted for him 💔 My only defense is that he doesn't have a beard like Davy-

TH.... THANK YOUUU,,, SOO MUCH!!! 💖💖😭💖

:D Thank you!! I'm glad you liked it!! :}}}

AAAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! :DDDD 💖💖💖

Thank you so much! :D And maybe someday I'll return to transformers :00

@thedorkyidiot

Hmm.. I'd say maybe some of the game environments? Like the Minecraft title screen :0

@kaiserdarken

By default I feel like Funtime Foxy would be the better "performer". Foxy is a little closer to a Daycare attendant than he is to a stage performer. :0

@itsumikorokotoyomonoko

:D Thank you! I'm honored :)) ALSO NOO DON'T CRY IM SORRY-- <XDD

@ocinstituterep

I basically completely threw out 60% of it, heavily rewrote 35% and kept 5% relatively the same XD

Ohhh I see :0

(Post in question)

XDD I'm glad you liked it!

@luna-purple454

The idea is that Papyrus didn't kill anyone. But Seam doesn't know that.

What happened is.. something.. swept through the underground and killed everyone. It wasn't a human or a monster. It wasn't even really a person.. It was just.. something.

Maybe it was a sound, a song? And everyone stepped outside to hear it. Only to be obliterated all at once..

Papyrus for some reason wasn't killed. And he was left all alone. The event left him so traumatized that he.. didn't really truly process it? Papyrus just goes through his usual daily routine as if nothing is wrong.

The land around Papyrus started to deteriorate though. With no one to run the core and regulate the temperatures.. Hotlands cooled down and Snowdin warmed up. All the snow melted, the trees and grass became dehydrated and died.

There was no new food being grown or made so everything expired. Papyrus was left with just soup cans and non perishables. With Sans "not being around" to patch his battle body.. it started to develop tears and busted seams overtime..

This AU is horrible. And Papyrus has basically completely lost his mind. And he had nothing to do with it.. it just.. happened. They all just.. died. And anything else he had in his life started to decay overtime too..

Its a shame that this situation ended up making Papyrus look like the villain. If Seam had known the truth, maybe things would have been different..

@skywillow28022

In my AU there are not multiple chain chomps. There is only 1 chain chomp. And he is this huge disgusting pile of molten metal and teeth, whos very spine is bolted to the castles basement floor. Its this absolutely horrible creature, whos as big as a 2 story house. It makes horrible inhuman sounds.. and it always hungry..

Due to it being locked away in Bowsers basement, the bros have never encountered it thankfully. But if they ever did, it would probably try to eat them.. And the only power ups that could really damage the chain chomp would be the super star. Which is very rare and the bros haven't exactly learned how to control it yet..

@danman22ful

Thank you so much! :D And its not going to be Circus Baby's entertainment and rentals or Circus babys pizza world. And its not connected to Fazbear Entertainemnt.

I'm thinking that its a classical styled circus. Tents and all. They travel from place to place like old timey circus's did. :0

@patatalota

Its always a shame to hear when people found me through pinterest.. but I'm glad you're at the source now and you like what you see! :}}

I feel like maybe DJ, DA and Freddy might participate in their "birthdays". But Chica, Monty and Roxy?.. Theyyyy probably wouldn't be interested.. :(

@ghfhgkfngjvfnvfnvmfkf

I got plans for Lolbit don't worry XD

After looking it up on YouTube, it appears to be an ice skating act..? Its beautiful! But none of the Circus members are ice skaters.. :(

(Post in question)

XD Oh yeah for sure. Circus Baby and Freddy definitely manhandled him through it-

@beryl-shade

Huh, what a combo! I'm not sure what that would look like :00

Sorry, I don't take requests!

#my response #fnaf security breach #octonauts #undertale #deltarune #transformer ocs #super mario bros #fnaf sister location #seam deltarune #my ocs #cookie run ocs

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insertdisc5 · 1 year

Note

The tumblr q&a is over, but I was curious! I love all the different phrases the characters in isat/sasasa:p use--If it's something you can say, where did inspiration for "gems alive" and other phrases come from?

THANK YOU FOR ASKING BECAUSE I GET TO TALK ABOUT WORLDBUILDING AND SWEAR WORDS AND BRANDON SANDERSON

long post ahead

ok so when I was figuring out the world, I found this lecture on worldbuilding by Brandon Sanderson (go watch it, and also go read his books), and (im gonna paraphrase heavily here) one thing he mentioned is that, to make a memorable world, one thing you can do is pick a couple areas of culture, and go real deep with it. So like, pick fashion, and architecture, and interior design, and develop those a bunch, and bam! you convinced people you have a whole dang world, even though you only developed 3 areas of this world. hollow iceberg everyone thinks is a real iceberg.

he also mentioned the idea of like... getting weird with it? and develop based on a weird detail? for example, in his book The Stormlight Archives, one detail is that women have to hide their left hand at all times. ok, so what does that mean, whats taboo about a left hand? is the left hand shameful, or lewd somehow, the same way ankles were for us? what about fashion, what does women's fashion look like? and how do you live your every day life, knowing you can't show this hand, can you carry things the same way? etc

SO, for me, one of the Big Worldbuilding pillars i picked was, uh, swear words lol. or language and common expressions, more generally. i went on a whole journey where i was like... ok swear words in a LOT of languages (including french and english, both languages i speak fluently) are either sexual, or about gross bodily discharges. you know what words i mean!!!!!

and, well, i also didnt want the game to be full of those words, mostly because i think its a tightrope to use those words without seeming cringe, and also because i have a Core Memory of showing a comic to a colleague and she said "well i wouldve liked to show it to my kids, but you said fuck 12 times in there" and i didnt show my face to her for a week. family friendly family friendly family friendly

so what swear words should my characters use, that arent the same ones we use? and could those swear words actually tell us something about the world they live in? could i actually use those swear words... to show the characters come from different cultures???

and what COULD swear words be like, if theyre not about sex or body stuff? well irl they're usually about religions or belief. "oh god", "goddamnit", etc. as a sidenote, stuff like "oh my god" or "geez" arent used, because jesus christ is not canon to the ISAT universe. alright

i decided very early on i wouldnt have those in the game either, but i COULD have them be about the religions specific to this world. and for insults, i could have them be about stuff those beliefs would see as lesser.

anyway instead of talking about "gems alive" lets talk about "crab"

isabeau+mirabelle+bonnie use "crab" as a swear word because they follow a religion all around change, bettering yourself, evolving, and, the crab meme,

for those who dont get the joke, its about carcinisation, and about how a bunch of non-crab-like forms somehow evolved to a crab-like form. which would be horrible, for a religion all based around change!!! you mean we change and evolve, but theres a chance we might all become crabs??? CRAB!!!!!!!

anyway having "crab" kinda reads as 1. swear word 2. thats funny and weird (sets the tone) 3. tells you they know what crabs are (world not that different from ours, AND means they live close-ish to the coast, aka not land locked) and 4. crabs are somehow hated/feared, even if as the player you dont get why, it shows this country has its own culture (even if you dont get the crabs joke, which uuuh apparently doesnt work as well in countries that dont have this specific meme. WHATEVER!!!!)

(a few people came to me saying "heh, i get it, because crab and crap are very similar words" and um actually i did not think about that. crab is just a funny word on its own, and also i am a comedy genius without even trying)

anyway tldr: swear words as a worldbuilding tool. soon in theaters

#in stars and time #start again start again start again #'adrienne isabeau says 'oh geez' 1 time in the prologue'#quite honestly this is a mistake and im retconning it. he said 'oh change' instead. will fix whenever i get around to making a new build #reference #also yeah canonically bonnie swears all the time #everyone has just given up and lets them curse like a sailor. bonnie has won #i added a cut but actually no you WILL read this whole post #long post

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whumppzzy · 5 months

Text

Escape?✧⁠*⁠。

humiliation, violence and attempts to escape ❣️

"They Won't Come Whumpee"

Whumper says patiently.

"they don't care enough about you to do that, besides, even if they did they wouldn't be able to find you. They have no idea you're here with me"

Whumpee, curled up on the floor where he usually sleeps, looks at Whumper standing in front of him and feels intimated by him and his words. Accidentally, he lets a tear run down his face, he didn't want to give up hope of getting out of there.

"Oh, don't be dramatic, it's not that bad"

Whumper covers Whumpee with his blanket and strokes his hair, he doesn't usually do this, but he knows it's not being easy for Whumpee to deal with his new situation.

"Goodnight"

He says and turns off the light in the room, lies on his bed content knowing that Whumpee is trapped in his room with him, and isn't going anywhere, right?

Well, Whumpee turns around and stays silent to pretend he's sleeping, but actually he's thinking about all the kind of humiliation he had to endure, he was being treated like a pet.

Whumpee gets sick just remembering the time he accidentally dropped a glass of milk and Whumper made him lick it up off the floor like a thirsty dog. Shame soon turns to anger and a desire to get out of that horrible place.

Calmly, Whumpee crawls across the floor, leaves his blanket where he was sleeping and walks through the bedroom door cautiously, well that was easy considering it was open.

He passes through the kitchen slowly, one step after another. But he wasn't stupid, he knew that the front door would be closed and the key would be hidden, plus it would make a lot of noise if it was opened.

He didn't have a plan, but he thought quickly and came up with the idea of escaping through the living room window, it wasn't very big, but considering Whumpee's size he would be able to get through without any problems.

He opened the window slowly, felt the wind coming on his face and ruffling his hair, he would be free, totally free. He climbed onto a chair and when he got enough momentum to jump, he felt Whumper's arms wrap around his waist.

"This time Whumpee? you never learn your lesson"

He pulls out Whumpee and closes the window.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please don't hit me-"

Whumpee is interrupted by a slap to his face.

"Idiot, did you really think I thought you were sleeping? You're clearly not the quietest person in the world when you sleep."

Whumpee starts to shake, very afraid of what might come next. Whumper was furious, he looked like he was going to cut Whumpee into little pieces.

"Well, since you want to leave, I won't stop you, in fact I might even help you with that"

Whumpee doesn't feel like Whumper is being truthful, he knows there's some trick behind his words. Whumper drags Whumpee by the arm to the door, grabs a rope and the key that was in his pocket. They leave and Whumpee finally steps onto the grass, he tries to hit Whumper to get free and run.

"Calm down idiot"

They both knew that if Whumpee ran away, he would have to run a lot, as no one knew that forest as well as Whumper.

With rope in hand, Whumper places Whumpee against a tree and ties him there.

"You're going to spend the whole night there, since you need to learn to respect me, maybe a night outside my house will help you appreciate the things I do for you, right?"

"What?! Calm down! You're really going to leave me here all night?! No, please...You've already humiliated me enough and now this?"

"Do I humiliate you? You are a stupid dog who doesn't recognize his place!"

Whumper turns his back on Whumpee.

"No! Please don't leave me here m-master..."

Whumpee felt humiliated calling Whumper like that, it seemed like he was actually superior to him or something.

"Oh, I'm your master now? Did I hear you right?"

Whumpee blushed with embarrassment.

"Well, it's not going to change my mind, but I'm really glad about it. Maybe when you get back home, you could call me that more often, wouldn't you?"

Whumper returns home and Whumpee accepts that he will spend the night alone, for the first time in his life he wanted to be on the floor, covered by Whumper's blankets.

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

#whump #whump prompt #whumpee #captive whumpee #captivity #kidnapped whumpee #intimate whumper #defiant whumpee #escape whump #pet whump

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obey-moi · 3 months

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A good fight from such a small army, only for those seven to lose. As the final traces of their brothers and sister fell from the light, the angels looked at their hands, stained with the colour of pain. These hands. These horribly unclean hands holding spears and bows, swords and cudgels, used to cut down their own friends and collegues because Father had commanded them to, the bloody hands of hundreds of angels burned.

No one dared speak, or even think. The only noise that crushed the silence was the first cry. One angel had begun weeping uncontrollably. Another followed, as did more, grief pealing from Father’s children in waves.

In the human world, parents tell their children that it rains when angels cry. If that were true, then their world would have flooded tenfold that day.

Lilith, whose heart was so filled with love, she dared to save a single human. She faced obliteration by Father’s hand, to be so unmade that she could no longer live other lives.

Lucifer, the Morning Star, had led the rebellion in order to protect her. Before he fell out of their lines of sight, they watched him rip out two of his six beautiful wings, and all could hear his curses directed at Father, curses so shocking and unheard of it left them all shellshocked. Those who witnessed never knew nightmares before then.

It seemed like just yesterday, Mammon had become a Throne under Lucifer’s wing. Many younger angels had been brought up by him, and those same angels wondered if his blood now touched them. Had their blind devotion dressed them in his feathers and viscera? That red slick now permeated their pores and sunk so deep, it sickened the marrow of their bones with dread.

General Leviathan fought respectfully well, many would later look at the scars he had given them, only to remember him fondly, bittersweetly. He was a shy angel in what was once a time of peace, no one had an ill word on his reputation.

Future parties would no longer be the same without the Shining Jewel of Heaven. Many of Asmodeus’ former friends hid gifts of his away, feeling shame and fear should Father know the beautiful memories of him would be pulled out in quick moments of need, to wash away self-doubt and remember all the good things he had to say about everyone.

The ever-stoic and soft-spoken cherub Beelzebub had fought so viciously, destroying so much in his path. Near the end of the battle, they watched him dive desperately towards Lilith and Belphegor, who had both been struck down midflight. The two had been so close and beloved by him that he dropped everything to attempt to save his brother and sister. All three disappeared into the clouds, so no one knew if Beel saved either of them.

And poor Belphegor... Everyone knew how much he loved the humans. How many times had one of these angels covered for him and Lilith when they would sneak down to the realm of mortals, to watch and admire? How many stories had they brought back and excitedly whispered to them? How could they ever forget the way his eyes sparkled and crinkled with giddiness?

How could they? How could they have done this to them? Their brothers’ fight was with Father, why did they need to get so involved? How did this turn into a war? Was it fear of Father's retaliation? Was facing obliteration truly that much worse than losing such beloved, exemplary siblings?

Their eyes turned to Father.

And Father only stared back.

Who else would challenge Him now? Why should they? Did they forget how much... Father loved them? Molded their little clay bodies with His own hands? Breathed souls into that clay? Gave them names? Could they even comprehend becoming so ungrateful, without fear of becoming undone? Who dared doubt Him? Who should be so bold as to commit thought crimes under His omniscient watch?

Nothing was ever going to be the same.

My hands burn for you

My hands learn for you

As I lift them empty to the sky

And ask the good Lord why oh why

We must fill our smiles

With these broken bones

And hold our breath for you

Even when it was whispered that all but Lilith survived, they still mourned all seven just the same. The black sheep Simeon would bring back updates whenever he came home on his trips to the Devildom, risking further demotion. He didn’t have to do all that for them, but then again, all of those who missed the brothers craved anything he had to offer. After a particular scolding from Michael, Simeon began bringing home those books from the human realm, the series called “The Seven Lords” by Christopher Peugeot.

The young prodigy Luke was only so lucky to get to accompany Simeon on these trips. The young angels who grew up not knowing Mammon had to ask him what the former Throne was like, now that he was not just a demon, but an avatar of sin. However, Luke’s attention would always be elsewhere, uninterested in gossiping about demons in favour of handling whatever tasks a certain Archangel gave him.

Michael was forever altered. Without the Morning Star by his side, the leader of these angels now handled his and Lucifer’s workloads on his own. Now he seemed bossier, more rude, reclusive. His proverbial duet partner was gone, now Michael’s lone harmony sounded strangely off-key. So he rebelled in a safe and cowardly way, asking Simeon to retrieve little tokens and treats from the Devildom, just to get little ideas and tastes of what Lucifer and his brothers must be experiencing. Did they now like these kinds of things? Did his beautiful Lucifer also pass by these knick-knacks at the market? Did Lucifer think of Michael like this too? Did he...? Does his back still hurt...? It must.. It must...

The Seraphim Raphael could be seen being his usual stoic self, unreadable and silent, strict with the lower angels as usual. However, some would overhear the moments when Raphael thought he was alone, free to sniffle and paw at his dewy eyes. Despite his annoyance with some of the brothers, it seems that even some of the strongest angels had trouble accepting the empty seats at empty tables, the spaces they loved and shared that now felt so liminal, dusty, and disquieting, and the eerie silence where Mammon’s jokes, Asmodeus’ singing, and Belphegor’s stories should have been.

And no one thought to ask Father how He felt. A mile radius around Him was covered in eggshells and landmines. Everyone had the privilege of being divine and radiant, as long as no one questioned or betrayed Him. No one wanted to fall from grace, no one wanted obliteration, and so it was that everyone was... happy, fine, okay, content, satisfied. A moment spent pretending that Father wasn’t to be feared was a moment to rejoice in his unconditional love, as long as they never broke a rule. For if you betrayed Him, He would betray you.

So do not move

And do not think

Just let it be

Later on we’ll see

And if you asked any particularly brave or stupid angel, everyone living in the Celestial Realm was living in hell.

[Lyrics: Nataly Dawn, “My Hands Burn” X]

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me!#obey me! shall we date?#obey me nightbringer #nightbringer #obey me angels #Obey me! angels #obey me fic #obey me fanfiction #obey me! nightbringer #hmmmmmmm i might have cried a lil writing this haha ;w;

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ystrike1 · 1 year

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Two in Six Billion - By Denzou (9/10)

Yanderes are trendy. They have been for a while. There are lots of stories about raising yanderes, and taming them. It's all so convenient. The object of affection is usually strong enough to do the taming, or weak enough to enjoy being watched. What about the in-between? What about real hatred? What if you made your bully fall in love with you by accident, and your entire life became a single room as a result?

Katou wants it to end. He's not talented. He's regular looking. He's shy. He could have made it through school, but he got targeted by bullies.

The boy who made him a target, Oda, doesn't even know his name. That's what hurts the most. Oda is popular, handsome, rich, and rude. He snaps at Katou once, and that's it. The shy boy spends his high school life alone.

The bullying makes him end his life.

He wakes up again, full of memories and hate. He doesn't go back to school. He tries to end his life again. He starts to hear other people's thoughts. The noise makes it impossible to function. He has no life outside of his room. His parents genuinely seem to love him, but even they are frustrated.

He can't die, and now he knows how the world sees him.

It's...brutal. He's a depressed kid and he gets treated like trash for looking and acting that way.

He feels like a monster.

An alien.

Katou sees Oda.

He wants the perfect young man dead.

A truck hits Oda.

He doesn't die.

Oda awakens with the same power to read minds.

It drives him crazy.

Katou visits out of guilt. Oda screams with joy. He wants to be best friends. He wants Katou around every day. Katou is like a protective barrier. He can't hear the awful things people think about him in Katous holy presence.

Oda has been served the ultimate punishment. His friends and casual girlfriends visit. He hears their thoughts. They're jealous of him. They don't like him at all. He can no longer deny how alone he is. His rich mom sees him as a burden too. She thinks her only son's stay in the hospital is pointless and overpriced...even though he literally got hit by a truck.

Oda is handsome, rich and smart.

But.

He has never been loved.

He acts submissive at first. He begs Katou for his friendship. He suspects Katou is also special, but something is wrong. Katou's powers are getting weaker, and his powers are getting stronger.

He starts to need Katou more and more.

Furthermore, he's happy.

Being with Katou makes him want to be kind.

Oh.

Also he doesn't remember Katou.

He doesn't remember the boy that got bullied because of him. Back then Oda didn't even register his face.

Now, Katous face is his favorite.

The L word comes up pretty fast. Oda's devotion is religious. He wants to live with Katou and support him like he's an idol. He also stalks Katou. Katou doesn't want his love, but Oda follows him home.

A loving mother lets her sons first ever friend in.

That friend does horrible things to her son.

Five years go by. Katou is still a holy halo....but he doesn't have his powers. Katou thinks Oda doesn't know, but he does. He loves Katou truly. Deeply. He has never loved anyone else in this life. Hearing Katou's thoughts actually makes him happy. He wants to know everything about the love that saved him from his lonely existence.

He buys a collar for Katou.

He kills Katou's mother.

Katou isn't allowed to leave their expensive apartment.

Oda kills those bullies from five years ago.

There's only implications. Oda is smart. Capable enough to live without his parents. He's probably not a contract killer. He's alot more sinister.

He only kills people that Katou feels attached to.

He wants to be the only thing Katou remembers. It's sort of a happy ending. They are in mutual love. The bullies are gone. Oda left his abusive parents behind.

Real shame about Katou's parents though, and everyone else he has ever spoken to.

#yandere #male yandere #yandere male #yandere boy #recommendations #recs #rec #recommended #yaoi #psychological #Two in Six Billion

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maniacalmole · 9 months

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When Aziraphale finally came back, Crowley didn’t really much care what he was saying, or mumbling, or choking out, but instead was watching him like a hawk for signs of what he really meant, like he always had, and it was so familiar an action that he almost didn’t even care what he found, he was just so blessed glad to be able to do it again, only what he did find was that Aziraphale was sagging under a despair and a relief so profound that eventually Crowley was satisfied enough to say, “I’m tired. Need a good night’s rest. Let’s pick this back up in the morning.”

And Aziraphale had looked both petrified and grateful, so Crowley had leaned back on the bookshop sofa and gone to sleep. Which wasn’t really a surprise, given that he hadn’t exactly been sleeping well lately, but what had surprised him was that in the morning he’d seen Aziraphale had fallen asleep, too, something he’d hardly seen in their millennia of knowing each other. So he supposed they’d both needed it.

Which was why, when they both woke up around noon, Crowley did something the bookshop had never seen in its decades of existence, because normally they had so many places they wanted to go together, but now all they really wanted to do was stay there, and so he ordered takeaway.

And so there they were, Crowley sat on the sofa and Aziraphale in an armchair, Chinese takeaway boxes scattered on a hastily cleared-of-books end table, with Crowley shoveling noodles into his mouth because he hadn’t realized he’d been so hungry. And Aziraphale was holding one dumpling between a pair of chopsticks, looking like a statue.

“So—” Crowley said, with difficulty around the noodles—how had the angel always managed to talk and eat at the same time, all while looking so prim?—and he’d never gotten the hang of chopsticks. Which, all right, he’d lived in China for a few centuries over the ages, but he’d eaten far less often than humans did, so it still wasn’t all that shameful. “So, what’s next, then?”

“Rather a lot, I’m afraid.” Aziraphale glanced at him when he said it, did that little twitch of an eyebrow he couldn’t help doing sometimes, even when he was squashing everything down inside him, like now, then looked away.

Crowley shoveled more noodles into his mouth. Aziraphale took the history of the world’s smallest bite of his dumpling. Crowley frowned.

“And—er—”

“I wish I could’ve come back to you with it all being finished,” Aziraphale said sadly. “‘Done, I solved it’. Well, I’m afraid I wasn’t all that useful.”

“From what you told me last night, you did loads.” Crowley stared at the dumpling. “Aren’t you hungry?”

“Oh.” Aziraphale grimaced at his chopsticks. “Er. Haven’t really eaten much. I don’t want—uh—don’t want to upset my stomach. You know how it is.”

Crowley just frowned. He took another gargantuan bite. Too big, really. It was all he could do to chew.

“The last thing I wanted to do was to come back to you with more problems,” Aziraphale said wretchedly. “But they just kept getting larger and larger, and eventually it was now or never—and I’m just—I’m just so useless—”

Crowley chewed faster. He really shouldn’t have eaten so much at once. He could do the snake thing, he supposed, but he really didn’t think a big old reminder of how inhuman he was would be quite appropriate, right now. Still, he had things to say, or rather, to interrupt, so he swallowed painfully, made a horrible noise, and finally hissed, “Never mind that, just, let’s just, get through this day, all right? Just one day.”

Aziraphale’s eyes went distant. Crowley wondered if they even measured days, in Heaven. They certainly tried not to think about it in Hell. Aziraphale was still holding that blessed dumpling, hardly touched, with perfect chopstick finesse, and he wished it would fall, just so the angel would have to catch it with his teeth.

“What are you doing?”

“What?” Aziraphale snapped halfway out of his daze.

“What are you—why are you eating like that? Why aren’t you eating?”

“I told you—” the angel said, sounding just peevish enough to spur him on.

Crowley reached over and took the chopsticks from him. Aziraphale sputtered. Crowley gestured with the dumpling. “Why are you being so weird about it?”

“I’m not—”

“It’s eating. It’s food, look, here it comes—”

“Crowley, are you airplaning that dumpling at me?”

Crowley paused mid-airplaning the dumpling towards him. He said, “N-n—”

Aziraphale gave him an icy stare.

“‘Member before it was airplanes?” Crowley said. He smiled. He felt something bubbling up inside him, and Aziraphale, remembering himself and trying to look penitent again, was not going to stop it. “It was trains, for a while, right? ‘Here comes the train, carrying your food.’ Don’t think they ever did that with a horse and buggy, though. S’pose you’d imply the kid was eating the horse, which wasn’t really the thing.”

“Crowley.”

“Before they had food-carrying vehicles, how did they get kids to eat, then? Do you remember?”

“Not really.” Aziraphale looked a bit wretched again. Crowley handed him back his chopsticks, and the angel took them. Took a bite. So small, it could hardly even be called a nibble.

Crowley sighed and leaned back into his own seat. “Anyway, I guess none of it really makes sense. You’d have to eat the whole airplane, too.”

They sat in silence for a while. Crowley took another bite of lo mein. Because of the chopsticks, and his fear, after everything, of what would happen if he dropped food on the bookshop floor, he’d held the whole carton up to his mouth and dumped it in, and now he really was choking, and after a few moments of terrified silence, he gave up and did the snake thing. Dislocating a human-shaped jaw really was less dramatic than when the entirety of you was just a long tube, but he knew it still looked odd. It wasn’t the reason he hardly ever ate in restaurants, but it was a small part of it. When he was done, he clenched his teeth back together and winced in the angel’s direction.

Aziraphale was looking at him with a wistful expression that was part amused and part something else. He said, “I missed you.”

Well. If everything before hadn’t been enough, that certainly was. Crowley said, “Do you at least want to try drinking something? Some cocoa?” and his own voice startled him with its softness.

Aziraphale looked thoughtful. Then doubtful. “I—don’t know.”

“C’mon. I’ll make you some. You’ve got to wake up the stomach with something, right?”

“I suppose—”

“I’ll make you some.” He rose from the sofa with the grace of a marionette being picked up by the strings, which was ironic, since he had never felt less like a puppet. “Be in the kitchenette. Right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

And he left, because he knew he wouldn’t.

When he came back, steaming warm mug in his hands, Aziraphale had put the dumpling away, but the doubt in his eyes had changed to something near hope. He took the cocoa and stared into it while Crowley sat back down. Not all the way, not leaning back into the sofa, but elbows resting on his knees, leaning forward towards the angel. Aziraphale looked at him, and Crowley tilted his head at the mug and raised his eyebrows, just a little. Aziraphale smiled, closed his eyes and, after taking a deep breath, took a sip. Then he winced.

“Too hot?” Crowley said, brows pulling together.

“I should have waited—”

“Here.” Crowley reached for the mug and touched it with his index finger. Then, needing something to calibrate the temperature to, he put his other hand on top of Aziraphale’s. He performed a minor miracle.

He let go, leaned back, and Aziraphale looked at him. He took another sip. The angel closed his eyes and, slowly, drank the whole thing.

When he put the mug down, it was empty.

“Mm?” Crowley said lightly.

“Thank—” Aziraphale started to say, but he shifted, his face a pained grimace. He put a hand to his stomach, waving Crowley off with his other hand when the demon had made a noise of worry. The angel sighed and his face relaxed.

“Did it upset your stomach?” Crowley asked. Again, that soft voice. Croaky with misuse.

“A little.” Aziraphale looked up at him. He gave a watery smile. “It was wonderful.”

Crowley felt his own face doing something. It was something like a grin. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah.”

Aziraphale looked at the remains of the Chinese takeaway. There were still several unopened boxes. With the memory of the angel passed out in his chair, eyes closed, chest moving slowly, Crowley had gone a bit overboard with the ordering. He hadn’t even known the bookshop’s address. Just told the delivery person the street name, and said, ‘Bookshop with a big black car in front of it. You can’t miss it.’ And he hadn’t. It was an iconic duo.

“We could—” Aziraphale said thoughtfully. “We could save those for later, yes?”

Crowley beamed at him. “Yeah. Angel?”

“Hm?”

“Welcome back.”

#good omens #good omens spoilers #good omens fanfic #I was imagining a reunion scene and it was all very melodramatic. and they fell asleep. and then we got to the next morning #and they ordered takeaway and then Crowley did the airplane thing and...I laughed. In spite of it all. So here you go #ficlet #my writing

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snekdood · 11 months

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rewatching that video natalie made about cringe and she gets to a point where shes talking about how there were trans women using “cringe” trans women as examples of Bad Transgenders Which They Are Not and how they’ll go as far as to misgender and dismiss their transition to justify their exclusion. and i really think yall need to read this and internalize it and realize you’re doing this about trans men who talk about our oppression:

(in reference to the video clip she’s responding to, she says;) “Rose… gorg. Jessica Yaniv is not one of "the biggest characters in the world" at any moment. This is not a world historical figure. At the end of the day, this is a more or less random civilian sex fiend off the streets of Vancouver BC. The only reason anyone has heard of her at all, is that Vanessa decided to go full "To Catch a Predator" and turn this grimy reprobate into a minor anti-celebrity. She's not one of the biggest characters in the world. But it sounds like what she is Rose, is one of the important characters in your brain.

This is distorted thinking. It's like A-Log comparing Chris-Chan to Hitler. You're so deep in the morbid cringe obsession that you've lost perspective. And I'm sure you have what seem to you like perfectly logical reasons for devoting so much attention to this. And I know that videos about Yaniv get a lot of views, so I'm sure that's a factor too. But Rose, I also know a morbid cringe obsession when I see one. And I know that being a visible trans woman on the Internet is more difficult than most people can imagine. And I know that pretty much every trans person is bullied or shamed or humiliated at some point in our lives. And I know how good it can feel to take all the horrible things that transphobes and bullies and TERFs have said about us, and repeat those things verbatim about some “big, fat, fake, dangerous, delusional, disgusting male fetishist”.

Oh, it feels good to get to be the TERF for once. It feels good to be the judge rather than the judged. Because when you point the finger at someone else, you're also pointing away from yourself. And it's not lost on me that in conservative circles, queer people are often treated like suspected sex criminals by default. So there's safety in being the one who spearheads the “think-of-the-children” type moral crusade. And when you expose a trans predator, you get that feeling of safety plus the relief of having someone in particular to blame for the shame and the stigma we all feel. Jessica Yaniv is the reason people hate us. But that's just not true. It's a simple answer to a complicated problem. It's scapegoating.

When I look at the Yaniv obsession on trans YouTube, I see a community trying to cope with stigma and hoping that destroying a scapegoat will bring relief. It's basically a blood sacrifice. It's not rational. It feels good for a moment, but it's an addiction. It won't ever erase the stigma and the shame. And Yaniv is simply the latest and most deserving in a long line of bad transgenders who aren't real transgenders and are giving us a bad name and are the reason people hate us and must be condemned and destroyed.

But when Yaniv is finally gone, when you get her sent to prison or whatever your goal is, you're just gonna find a new scapegoat to take her place. And the shame cycle continues. The humiliation and bullying we've experienced is internalized as shame. When we project that shame onto scapegoats and onto each other, it becomes cringing and contempt. And we voice that contempt by shaming other people, which starts a new cycle.

So you can keep finding new scapegoats, new punching bags, new shamedumps, new lolcows, and you can wind up like one of the people who's been archiving Chris-Chan for 13 years. But that will never really heal us.”

‘n i kinda feel like thats whats going on right now....

#contrapoints #transandrophobia #so we're fujoshis yeah? we're just. people with detransition kinks huh?#you married to that position you pos?

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caramel1mochi · 3 months

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One Hazy Winter [Iso x F! Reader] [3]

[ Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 ]

Genre: Angst, fluff ‎

TW: Heavy depression ‎ ‎

Words: 6k ‎

Synopsis: One winter before his disappearance, you told your boyfriend Yu about a question you’ve had for so long; one even he could hardly respond to. It took many more hopeless winters for you to finally have your answer.‎

Note: Please don't copy or steal my work and pass it off as your own! If you'd like to use one of my headcanons or something, I'd love it if you tagged or asked. Also I know I'm late BUT DID YOU GUYS SEE THE VOICE MESSAGE FROM OMEN??‎ Omen's VA decided to casually display pure wrath without even warning us first oh my god ‎

。+❤ฺ·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ· +❤·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ·

Winter, present day.

‏‏‎ ‎‎ ‎

You spent the past thirty minutes standing and harshly scrutinising the plant.

Now, though it had grown into a tree with vines after two months, you noticed something today that made your heart drop. The leaves were starting to curl in an unnatural manner; their edges were dry, they were brown, and there were small holes just barely forming on them. The stalk was beginning to look weak. And though you’d watered it only a day ago, the soil looked drab and grey, as if you had neglected it all this time. It took two months of work only for this to happen.

This sight was… very upsetting to you. But you weren’t exactly sure what to expect. You clenched your fist and heaved a sigh, turning your gaze to the vinyl flooring beneath you.

You’d just gotten back into gardening after so long; why would you expect things to work out on the first try? It took you your entire childhood before you could effortlessly walk back from your balcony with an impressive harvest like you were cutting loaves of bread.

Then a soft voice came up from behind.

‏‏‎ ‎

‘Is it dead?’

‎ ‎

Yu asked. There was a peculiar echo in his words, and you recognised that sound. He wasn’t in the living room; he was on the balcony, where you used to keep your bigger trees before they all died.

‎ ‎‎ ‎

“I… I think so.”

‎ ‎

Despite knowing that he was only an illusion conjured up by your mind for comfort, you still responded. And those were the only words you could muster. But they didn’t match what you said when he actually asked you that question.

‎ ‎

‘I assumed it was. The leaves, they… tipped me off.’

‎ ‎

He said it with an awkward smile, slipping his hands into the deep pockets of his hoodie.

Yu needn’t explain himself. There was no shame in not knowing everything about the world. But for some reason, he felt like he had to with you.

…

‎ ‎

“Stop talking to me.”

‎ ‎

You balled your fists.

Yu was a memory. A distant one. Like everyone else. His responses didn’t match the current situation; they only matched what you said in the past.

Back then, though that day was horrible, it felt like there was a glimmer of hope with him around. Light at the end of the tunnel. Something to keep you going.

But that was before.

You rubbed your forehead and closed your eyes, allowing– heck, even welcoming the sensation of grief so it could envelop you once more. Like the heavy rain of a thunderstorm, it weighed on you, and you were moments away from giving in and laying in your bed for the next few hours.

You weren’t sure why the plant was dead. You watered it, gave it fertiliser, and gave it enough sun, but you just couldn’t figure out why. All of your knowledge of gardening has escaped you. The one simple hobby that was on par with sleep, given how easy it was… Now, all of it was way over your head.

Maybe you shouldn’t have taken Ying’s advice. Maybe you should’ve just accepted that the hobby was a dwindling memory, and you should look into something else or just… I don’t know, give up?

That sounded like the easiest option.

‎ ‎

Then, your phone buzzed in your pocket. The distinct ringtone let you know that it wasn’t just anyone. It was your boss, Ying. It took you a few seconds to pull it out and read the text.

‎ ‎

‘Good evening!’

‎ ‎

She sent an emoji to accompany her chummy text.

‎ ‎

‘How are you?’

‎ ‎

You stared at your phone for a few seconds, not minding the painfully bright light it exuded. So bright, it stood out against your dreary and dim environment. But the thought of adjusting the brightness felt like too much right now.

Though you were online, you didn’t type anything in response. And the very silence tipped her off enough to switch the topic.

‎ ‎

‘How’s the plant? Is everything going okay?’

‎ ‎

Of course. You should’ve expected this.

You weren’t sure why she kept asking about it every other morning when you came to work. Ironically enough, though you didn’t connect the dots, Ying’s questions would remind you to water the plant.

This morning, however, she didn’t ask. So you thought that she was sick of talking about it for two months and simply dropped it. But no, she didn’t grow sick of it. It must’ve just slipped her mind.

And you still felt obligated to tell her the truth, despite the shame.

‎ ‎

‘I think it died’

‎ ‎

She paused for a moment. The dancing dots indicative of her typing weren’t there, and it felt like you could see her shocked face on the other side.

‎ ‎

‘It died?’

‎ ‎

‘How?’

‎ ‎

‘Haven’t you been watering it?’

‎ ‎

You sighed and typed back,

‎ ‎

‘I have’

‎ ‎

‘Did you give it fertiliser like you said?’

‎ ‎

‘I have’

‎ ‎

She paused for a moment.

Ying’s forte wasn’t gardening. Being mentally healthy, she didn’t seek relief from a pit of depression the same way you did, so she could never truly understand how emotionally stricken you were. But she knew that it was great enough for her to take action.

‎ ‎

‘Send me a picture.’

‎ ‎

You heaved a sigh. Then, you opened the camera app and stood up, taking a few steps back to get the whole thing in the frame. Even then, you had to move halfway across the living room to even hope to achieve such a task.

After a few minutes, you sent it and waited for a response.

‎ ‎

‘Ah, that looks bad…’

‎ ‎

‘I’ve never seen anything like this before.’

‎ ‎

You sighed. It felt like you had. But for some reason, despite how often it pushed Yu to the forefront of it, your mind just blocked any information about plants out and avoided it like it was the plague.

‎ ‎

‘Give me a moment. I’ll send something to help you.’

‎ ‎

And with that, she went offline.

You swore you saw a plant get like this before. Once, and you immediately knew how to deal with it. But for the love of God, you couldn’t remember what you did or what plant it was. When did this even happen?Were you dating Yu at the time? Why was it such a distant memory?

You set your phone down in your pocket and stared at the plant once more, struggling to keep your mind from crawling back to where it always went in moments like these. Instead, you strenuously wracked your brain trying to remember.

‎ ‎

The sudden buzz caught you off guard. And you took out your phone to see something that caught you off guard even more. It was an article Ying sent you. An article on…

Pruning.

It was a word you hadn’t heard in years. Did you even know what it meant? You… You used it multiple times before, didn’t you?

Tapping on the article would yield a few answers to your questions. More specifically, on what pruning was and why it’s necessary. But the thing that caught your attention were the pictures. The pictures the author had posted, the tree before it was pruned, looked exactly like yours.

Dry, overloaded with vines wrapped around each other, and dead.

Ying was right... The plant wasn’t dead; these excess branches were just taking up valuable energy and nutrients, only to not give any fruit in return. All of this was salvageable. It can survive. The solution was right there. You just needed your mind to stop blocking everything useful out.

And you needed to prune it all.

‎ ‎

‘Pruning? I… heard of that before, but I never looked into it. It sounds complex.’

‎ ‎

Yu responded to your explanation. And you couldn’t help but huff in anger, quickly turning on your heel.

‎ ‎

“Stop talking to me.”

‎ ‎

You rushed through the living room and towards your bedroom. Then, you stopped in front of a drawer and pulled out a set of shears buried deep within your other abandoned items for your little gardening hobby. It took your fingers a moment to adjust to the proper grip. And once it did, it began to feel natural. Like the very shears were sculpted to fit your hand.

Memories trickled down your mind, and you swore you could recall some more information on growing other fruits you hadn’t ever thought about.

You stood up, then moved back to the living room. And on the way to the tree, you grabbed the nearby lamp and brought it closer towards it, positioning the light above it.

‎ ‎

‘You make it sound so easy.’

‎ ‎

Yu responded with a chuckle. Though he was innocently replying to something you said, it felt like he was laughing at your predicament. And pushing him out was difficult.

You sighed as you stood in front of the plant once more, feeling intimidated. Pruning… was something delicate. One mistake, and you could cut too much or too little of a branch and potentially kill the whole thing.

You didn’t want that to happen. For the love of God, you desperately wanted this one thing you took care of to succeed.

‎ ‎

‘If I may ask… how does it work?’

‎ ‎ His tone bled with worry. Clearly, he didn’t want to come across as a bother. But he didn’t bother you at the time. He didn’t bother you at all. In fact, the thought of showing him your work process again felt exciting.

Now, however, thinking about him was starting to get very debilitating.

You sat down and gently grabbed one branch, carefully isolating it from the others to avoid any possible mistakes. The blades were held mere inches away from your target. You tilted your hand to get the perfect shape, ever so slightly moving it so as to get the perfect and least destructive angle in order to cut this branch off.

Then, with a calculated snip, it came off and fell on your lap. You immediately set it aside and moved on to another, studying the plant over and over to figure out which to cut and which to keep.

Doing this felt so familiar. And even if your memory didn’t serve you well, your intuition did. It felt like your hands were pushing you towards which ones to cut and which ones to keep.

‎ ‎

‘Of course it is.’

‎ ‎

Yu said with a smile. Then, he sat down next to you and watched you work in silence. Both of you knew that– Ugh.

You knew that you’d be sitting there for an hour, at least. But with your inhuman level of patience and desire to keep things precise, it didn’t really bother you. You welcomed the long wait, in fact.

Given your meticulousness, it would take a while for you to prune even one plant. And your back would be aching afterwards. But you didn’t mind. You loved it. Especially the pride you’d feel afterwards.

Even if it was temporary, it took your mind off of things. Thirty minutes in, it did just that, and you had slowly begun to forget what was upsetting you the past few years.

‎ ‎

❤ฺ·。

‎ ‎

Some time had passed since then. Well, a lot of time, actually. How much, exactly, you weren’t sure, since all of the days started to blend into one neverending afternoon at the café and one long dreadful night in bed with all of Yu’s blankets.

Your morning routine grew quicker and quicker with each passing day. You’d get up, wash up, and rush to care for the plant as fast as possible before leaving. After the debacle that took place a while ago, you were afraid to look at it and find that there was a mistake. So, the solution? Care for it like you normally would. Just… don’t look at it.

Smart, right?

Yeah, no. But you felt lightheaded every time that cursed plant came up in your mind. Even after you spent all of that time pruning it, getting comfortable with its existence was a contingency that would probably remain just that: a contingency. The very thought of it was terrifying, and you’d do anything to get rid of the feeling.

Today was no different.

Your morning routine was complete once you put on your jacket as the final touch for your heavy outfit. Then, you grabbed the mister and headed towards the tree, keeping your eyes on the floor whilst you began misting it.

And within only half a minute, you were already outside, rapidly marching down the staircase without a single glance spared for the plant. You swore you saw some faint purple on it, but you didn’t care. You wanted out and you wanted it now.

Only now did it dawn on you how stupid all of this fear was. Might as well get rid of it, you mused, especially if it was heavily affecting you like this. It’s not like you had any spare brain power for anymore negativity. Right? Yeah, probably not…

‎ ‎

An empty jingle accompanied your entrance. And you walked in to see only an empty counter facing you. You took a second to observe the area, but this and the misplaced silence only confirmed that there was absolutely nobody. Not behind the counter, not on any of the booths near the windows, nowhere.

You couldn’t even hear anything from the back, only the repetitive music that continuously played and the machinery’s repetitive humming.

Where the heck was Ying? Or anyone else, at least? This was the morning shift, and the door was unlocked; it wasn’t far-fetched to believe someone could’ve taken advantage of this and stolen something. Not like the cameras can do much. Unless Ying somehow earned a bunch of money and replaced them with state-of-the-art security cameras… Yeah, that sounds like something she’d do behind your back.

You still never really knew where she or Yu got their money.

‎ ‎

“Ying?”

‎ ‎

You called out worriedly, quickly looking around. Your panic died halfway through once you finally saw a familiar tall woman standing in an unexpected spot; her impressive ponytail allowed you to immediately recognise who it was.

Ying stood between the few dozen tables in the open dining area. Not only was her back turned towards you, but she also had her hands up and formed a shape you couldn’t see from this distance as she stared at an empty spot she created by pushing the nearby furniture away. Tables, chairs, that sort. She was staring at the beige brick wall… for some reason. It sort of concerned you as you walked towards her. The loud clicks of your heavy winter boots were impossible to ignore. Either she did just that, or she was too engrossed in what she was doing to hear you.

You were allowed a wider view once you stopped next to her. And only now did you see the camera shape she formed with her fingers. The potted plant set on the oak table bothered her, and she took a few microsteps back to try and get it out of the ‘frame’.

Then, a car sped by the window from behind, its strong lights forcing your silhouette to conceal her. And that snapped her out of her trance.

‎ ‎

“Ah, Y/N! Good morning.”

‎ ‎

“What’re you doing?”

‎ ‎

“You’ll love this. I saw a painting yesterday and I’d love to hang it here; however, there’s a problem,” she placed one finger on her chin thoughtfully, turning back to the empty part of the wall, “even after I moved our tables, there’s little to no room.”

‎ ‎

“What painting?”

‎ ‎

“Oh, right. One moment.”

‎ ‎

She took out her phone and simply turned it on to show you. It didn’t take long for you to realise it was set as the lockscreen. And it was exactly something you thought Ying would love. A painting with four decorated squares, each square displaying a woman donning a white dress with foliage behind them. The trees bore a variety of different fruit, kinds of trees, even the birds that flew by.

Titled ‘The Seasons’, by Alphonse Mucha, 1896. Not that you knew who that was, but, yeah, sounds about right.

You couldn’t help but smile in amusement as you looked back at her.

‎ ‎

“I’ll need a measuring tape to see if the dimensions match, but isn’t this… controversial?”

‎ ‎

You referred to their thin white dresses. All except for Winter, who had a light cyan cloth wrapped around her figure to protect her from the cold.

‎ ‎

“It was love at first sight, Y/N! I’m not letting this painting go, no matter how expensive it is. Ah, but that’s besides the point.” She pocketed her phone and smiled, beckoning you to follow her. “So, how are you? How’s the tree?”

‎ ‎

You paled as each of you ambled towards the register, your mind immediately thrown back to the discomfort you’d just crawled out of minutes ago. Great. You heaved a sigh and kept your eyes on the chequered ground, glimmering under the sharp lights above you.

‎ ‎

“I… didn’t see it. I don’t want to talk about it.”

‎ ‎

She stopped and looked at you. Though she still carried her chummy smile, you could tell there was an immense amount of confusion just by the tilt of her head.

‎ ‎

“Is it dead?”

‎ ‎

“No. I’m still caring for it. But the thought of it makes me ill.”

‎ ‎

She was visibly relieved.

‎ ‎

“That’s– that’s good! I assumed something worse.”

‎ ‎

It’s not like you really knew whether or not there was something worse. For all you know, it could be dead, and you were just watering what was effectively a withered corpse. But that didn’t really…

‎ ‎

“If you’d like, I can check it for you instead.”

‎ ‎

You were taken by surprise. Had it been anyone else who said this to you, it would’ve been unbelievably patronising.

‎ ‎

“It’s just some dumb tree, Ying. I can check on it myself.”

‎ ‎

“And I can see that it’s very valuable to you. You clearly care about the life of this tree, right? That’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

‎ ‎

Just as she finished speaking, the phone from her office loudly began ringing and caught each of you off guard.

‎ ‎

“The choice is yours, but the offer is still open. I’m willing to check it for you.”

‎ ‎

And with that, she immediately turned to the counters and disappeared to her office, leaving you dumbfounded. Whenever you’d wonder why you always forgot that Ying was your boss and not your friend or second mother, you’d be reminded exactly why that habit remained unbroken.

Did she think that the tree stuff was that important to you? Sure, the thought of a blizzard wiping out your complex sounded less intimidating than coming home and seeing that plant dead, but… Huh, maybe she had a point. But you still weren’t up for being doted on like a child.

At the end of the day, it was a tree. You shouldn’t be mentally affected if it did actually get wiped out by something. You should be able to just look at it without your stomach being violently churned and your mind senselessly overreacting to it.

Then, the bell’s familiar jingle snatched your attention, and you immediately turned to see a few customers walking through the double door.

Right, work. Shouldn’t forget that. Not that Ying was very helpful in a task like that. You pushed those thoughts out of your head and prepared yourself to get to take their orders.

‎ ‎

❤ฺ·。

‎ ‎

Despite how thin the metal frame of the door was, you could still see the reflection it shot back at you, almost like an attempt to mock you. You ignored the fact that you were sweating, even though you were surrounded by snow. And it wasn’t because of the temperature. The frame was there to rudely remind you of that. Plus, your wide eyes were indicative of fear.

Work was over. And you wanted to look at the tree. So, your unrelenting panic left you with no choice but to admit you were terrified.

The prospect of it being dead had grown increasingly possible over the past month. And now, you had to face it. The thought of just calling Ying to take her up on her offer popped up in your mind. Heck, why not take everything you own and move into another complex? It was easier to do. Just as your fingers shakily wrapped around the cold handle, moving out suddenly became incredibly seductive to you.

Then, you sighed and forced yourself inside.

‎ ‎

You threw your heavy jacket on top of the blankets on the sofa, slipped off your boots and moved to the large windows in the living room where the tree resided. The air around you was heavy and added to the tense atmosphere. The lighting? Just as dreadful, and you felt your stomach churn. Throughout the entire path, your gaze remained locked on the floor out of fear.

Why were you so scared? It’s just a stupid tree. Even if it died, it’s not like it would do anything to you physically. You sighed. Why were you so sure it was dead? Why couldn’t you be positive for once? Gah, whatever. Dead or not, you would be the one to deal with the consequences. It wasn’t that hard to toss out the soil and whatever other rubbish there was.

Then, with a deep yet shaky breath, you lifted your chin to see your work. And your eyes widened at the sight.

It flowered. There were flowers on it! A deep shade of purple and a ring of yellow right in the centre. With the corona filaments that protruded from it, it nearly hypnotised you with just one look. You observed the vine and began counting the flowers in excitement.

Two of the flowers were in an interesting position; they sat right next to each other despite being on different vines. And from this angle, it looked like two human eyes. Purple eyes that stared right at you.

You sighed and stood up, a memory popping up in your mind to distract you from that thought. Might as well bring your heater next to it; you remembered that the fruit would ripen quicker that way.

That, and…

Well, you were going to plant the seeds you saved.

‎ ‎

‘How long until the trees bear fruit?’

‎ ‎

The door of the fridge swung open, revealing the bag of seeds you’d saved deep within its empty shelves. Immediately, you took them and left to cut the plastic bag open.

You didn’t want to respond to him. You didn’t want to allow your mind to bring up Yu as a way to deal with everything happening. You already allowed it to put you in a deep pit of depression and convince you that grieving over your parents for decades on end was benefiting you. Yu was a distant memory. He was gone. And that’s a fact.

But really, how many years until passion tree fruits bear fruit? What was it… three years?

Yes, three years. That must be it.

‎ ‎

‘One year? And you… wait for it?’

‎ ‎

He said, amazed at the answer you had given him at the time. Right. One year. Not three. You… must’ve mixed up the passion fruit with some other kind of fruit. Possibly lemons? You weren’t too sure. Then that means that you only had to wait until summer to harvest the fruit. Or autumn. Whenever it was, you were ready. The mere thought of finally getting a harvest after so long made your heart skip a beat in excitement, a feeling you hadn’t had the privilege of experiencing in so long.

‎ ‎

‘I see. And what about this one?’

‎ ‎

You remembered holding his wrist and stopping him from touching the passion fruit that was still stuck on the tree. Then, you explained it to him like he was your junior. You knew that your boyfriend would’ve never dared to pluck anything from your tree without your permission; his intentions were clearly pure, but you still wanted to be clear and let him know.

For one, the skin was smooth. And the smoother the skin, the worse it would taste. In your opinion, anyway. You loved wrinkly passion fruit. And two, the fruit didn’t fall off.

‎ ‎

‘Sorry.’

‎ ‎

Yu sheepishly pulled away, listening to you intricately explain the exact criteria required to be met in order to achieve maximum enjoyment from a passion fruit. Then, you snuck in a sarcastic comment halfway through, earning an even meeker reaction coupled with an awkward laugh.

‎ ‎

‘No, of course not. I don’t think I’d have the time to look after so many plants. Not, not that it’s a bad thing.’

‎ ‎

Ugh. Why were you recalling all of this? You weren’t even responding to the memory at this point, but you swore your words sat at the tip of your tongue. You quickly shoved away a lock of hair from your face, before marching towards your room and making your way towards the balcony.

You hated that these stupid conversations were starting to actually jog your memory.

Just as you opened the door, the cold wind from the outside immediately hit you. The sudden and violent shift in temperature was almost as painful as being kicked by a horse in the abdomen. It was very uncomfortable, sure, and you’d only now remembered that you were only wearing a tank top, but this succeeded in finally interrupting the annoying memory.

So you gritted your teeth and stepped outside with no intention of covering up.

If this was what it took, then so be it. But maybe there was an easier way to block it all out. Like… Like headphones?

No… Too soon, you noted as you wrapped your fingers around one empty pot.

‎ ‎

❤ฺ·。

‎ ‎

Winter, two years ago.

‎ ‎

Despite dating for however long now, it was still hard to get used to Yu's reluctance to share much of his personal life with you. He never told you where his family was (aside from his grandmother), or where he’d go that was ‘so important’ he couldn’t possibly answer a simple text from you. That, and, you know, he still never told you why his eyes were purple.

You hoped that he’d bring that up, at least, but he never did. Heck, Ying didn’t even mention it once when he got hired, and your co-workers only made an off-handed comment before going on about their day. You thought they were a pair of contacts until you saw him sleep in them. That wasn’t to mention how whenever he’d rub his eyes, said ‘contacts’ were unaffected by such movement. And now that it’s been three years, it felt awkward to ask now.

But when you brought up radiancy being the cause, he immediately shut that thought down.

So you aimed to take things into your own hands. Do something that wasn’t remembering the past, something innocent.

‎ ‎

Yu didn’t hold your hand on the way home today.

Not because he was mad at you or anything. In fact, the ‘home’ you were both headed towards wasn’t your apartment. It wasn’t your apartment at all. For the first time, you were going to check out his house. Which required the both of you to take the bus.

Exciting, right?

And it moved erratically on account of the blizzard that occurred. Even after a week, the ice and mounds of snow on the road still haven’t melted, and Yu knew that clinging onto you like a koala to protect you was a solution that would very much irk you. Even though, admittedly, it probably would’ve been fun for him to do so.

So he had a better idea.

You found yourself in a confined area with a window right next to you and a wall behind you. Yu stood in front of you, one hand on said window and the other firmly clutching the handrail connected to the wall, ‘trapping’ you in order to keep you from falling. This position was both embarrassing and perfect.

Since he loomed over you like a titan, the sunlight highlighted the exact features you needed. And so you stared, scrutinising those mystifying bulbs of purple for an answer whilst he stared at the road you all passed by. And you couldn’t find any hint of brown or black underneath. Heck, even blue or green, whatever. You couldn’t isolate any other colour. All they did was gently reflect the road like a mirror to prove that they were, in fact, naturally purple. As if they were jeering at you for questioning this anomaly.

Yu promptly took notice of your harsh examination after a few minutes, meeting your gaze with an awkward smile.

‎ ‎

“Are you okay?”

‎ ‎

You continued observing for a few seconds before finally caving in and biting the bullet.

‎ ‎

“What colour are your eyes, Yu?”

‎ ‎

He paused for a moment, holding on to the railing once the bus swerved in a dramatic manner. Yu would usually be clueless about most things. But this time, judging by the way his eyes ever so slightly widened, you knew he knew what you meant.

‎ ‎

“Purple, why?”

‎ ‎

You rolled your eyes, the exact reaction he hoped to get out of you.

‎ ‎

“I’m joking, I’m joking. They're actually lilac.”

‎ ‎

“That doesn’t narrow it down either.”

‎ ‎

He couldn’t stifle the chuckle that escaped him. Probably spent a few hours on Google trying to find the shade that matched them just to give it a name, now that you thought about it.

‎ ‎

“No, I mean it. They are purple. You didn’t catch anything weird while you were staring, did you?”

‎ ‎

You crossed your arms, still unconvinced. In what world would purple be a natural colour for a non-radiant? And what you hated more was that it didn’t seem like he was lying about it. So what was the cause?

‎ ‎

“You have naturally purple eyes.”

‎ ‎

“You believe me, don’t you? I’d be shattered if you didn’t.”

‎ ‎

Yu smiled and leaned down to kiss your forehead, attempting (albeit failing) to appeal to your nonexistent emotions. He was endeared by the unamused pout of your lips, only highlighted by the dull expression that you always carried.

But you were even more endeared. Even without the striking eyes he possessed, he looked stunning, especially in this light. Like a painting. Just the way his black hair mimicked brushstrokes, a few clumps of it parted like the tufts of a brush.

You were snapped out of your trance once you felt Yu nuzzle against you like some kind of greedy cat. Because if he couldn’t hold your hand, he had to do something else, huh? You thought.

‎ ‎

“Gosh, Yu, don’t be so soppy out in public. You’ll get eyes on us.”

‎ ‎

He paused for a moment, the dilation of his pupils ever so visible.

‎ ‎

“But we’re already getting stared at.”

‎ ‎

You were confused for a moment. And you didn’t understand what he meant until the bus drove by a massive house, one that exuded a shadow large enough to loom over the entire vehicle for a split second. And in that split second, you caught the reflection of a few people sitting behind you. Just like he said; their eyes were on both of you.

Huh. Oh.

Now that you thought about it, maybe this position was a teensy tiny bit immodest.

‎ ‎

“Not, uh, not that I mind.”

‎ ‎

He added, quickly glancing at the ground. Of course he wouldn’t, he was the one who put you in this predicament in the first place. You couldn’t help but lightly flick the thick red strings on his hoodie with a grin.

‎ ‎

“Cut it out, you doofus. You’re embarrassing me.”

‎ ‎

“But you’re not stopping me.”

‎ ‎

He smiled and leaned down to kiss your forehead again. You couldn’t see anyone’s reflection anymore, but for some reason, you knew this repetitive move only brought more attention.

Despite the potency of the lemon fragrance from here, you still didn’t have any intention to push him away. You couldn’t even deny how cute he was, not with the glimmer in those completely natural purple eyes. But still, you playfully pushed him away a few inches and instead moved your eyes towards the window.

‎ ‎

Then, before another word could be exchanged, the bright text on the screen above changed to the area you were in. Yu, however, was quicker to notice this and used one hand to keep you steady against the wall you leaned on.

‎ ‎

“Watch out; the bus gets unstable here.”

‎ ‎

His words were immediately proven correct the moment the vehicle stopped. And you knew you would’ve probably lost your balance and fallen against him had he not kept you steady against the wall, especially when the few other bystanders were nearly knocked off of their feet.

The urge to insult his route home grew impossible to keep under control. But, again, he was your boyfriend. Should probably be nice.

Once the doors swung open and, once it was deemed safe, he relaxed his grip on you.

‎ ‎

“Are you okay?”

‎ ‎

You responded with a nod, and this only painted a smile on his face.

‎ ‎

“Good. Let’s go.”

‎ ‎

Yu held your wrist and led you out of the bus, holding you close to him. Despite your thick clothes, the moment you stepped on the pavement, the harsh cold from the outside struck you with force. It gave you whiplash, especially compared to the cool temperature of the bus. His tall and broad figure, though, succeeded in protecting most of you from the wind.

Was this what he had to deal with every time he left the bus…? Well, perhaps his thick hoodies did more than cover his impressive form.

Then, just as the bus drove off and the others walked to their own destinations, the both of you began moving towards the house you wondered so much about.

‎ ‎

And it was… super pretty. It nearly matched who he was, now that you thought about it. Humble, sizable, and if it weren’t for a few modern touches to its colour palette and the structure of its roof, it could’ve easily passed for a cottage.

The small front yard was covered in about a foot of snow. You assumed that there was a path underneath that led to the cherry door, one you would’ve been able to see if it weren’t for the bed of snow ruining such a pretty view. Nevertheless, you kept walking alongside him, listening to the quiet crunches of the snow beneath your boots since your headphones were off.

Yu then grabbed your wrist and pulled you back.

‎ ‎

“Be careful. There are steps here.”

‎ ‎

You looked down to see an unassuming mound of snow.

‎ ‎

“Where?”

‎ ‎

To answer your question, he stepped on then pushed it away with his foot, and alas, there was a set of pretty stone steps that led right up to the entrance you eyed earlier. Despite the snow, everything was so pretty. The steps, the yard, the bloody door. In fact, it was starting to get concerning.

Another question popped up in your mind as you took his hand and moved up the stairs.

‎ ‎

“How do you pay for all of this? Does your grandmother help you?”

‎ ‎

You took note of the sudden, awkward silence that filled the air. And it took him a moment to think of what to say to that. Even if it was much easier, even if he’d done much worse, the one thing he couldn’t do was to lie to you.

‎ ‎

“I… have a way.”

‎ ‎

That was all he could muster up. And just the tone let you know that something was wrong.

He began unlocking the door to distract from the tense atmosphere, the surrounding snow only amplifying the rattling of his keys as they rapidly moved. You stared, waiting for him to continue his sentence.

Just as you opened your mouth to speak, he beat you to it.

‎ ‎

“Maybe one day I’ll tell you.”

‎ ‎

“One day?”

‎ ‎

He nodded, but you could sense some reluctance in the movement. Then, the door swung open.

‎ ‎

“There we go. Here, come with me, I’d like to show you something sweet.”

‎ ‎

He held your wrist and immediately brought you inside. With the large entrance that led to the living room sitting right in front of you, your question was knocked right out of your mind, all in favour of finally observing his mysterious home.

The vast living room was brilliantly lit up by the cloudy sky outside. However, it was somewhat empty, minus a few essential things one needed in a house and the massive patterned carpet classified as ‘decoration’. As if he’d just moved into his new home and started making himself comfortable.

If there was one thing consistent about Yu, it would be his abnormality, that’s for sure.

30 notes · View notes

glowyjellyfish · 1 month

Text

I’m slowly inching my way forward in Rebirth, and I have to say I am actually really delighted with Cait Sith so far. It’s not like I know yet how he works in this canon, but still… lol I see you Reeve. “It feels good to do good”? Hanging his head in shame at the sight of the Avalanche wanted poster? Giving an impromptu lecture on the history of Corel Prison and lamenting that it’s not living up to its potential? I see you Reeve.

Also, Cait Sith is friggin adorable, singing a meow song to guests with his little Scottish voice and having to jump to reach elevator buttons.

Progressed a little further and OMG they showed us Reeve doing his thing. He appears to indeed be doing both genuinely joining Avalanche and spying for Shinra at the same time, if enjoying himself too much and showing too much of himself is anything to go by. Plus, Tseng is clearly aware of what he’s doing and went from him to Rufus to report on Aerith’s position… although it’s not clear yet whether anybody but Tseng knows this, and we DO know the Turks have some mixed feelings about lots of things, so it’ll be interesting to see where this goes. I’m pleased they managed to keep “Cait Sith invites himself to join the party” while also making it more plausible, ie he joined up by being aggressively helpful.

Also, everybody knows that Cait Sith is being controlled by somebody and is something resembling a robot, like without even questioning it. L O L. Of course, they lightly questioned him and he immediately jumped to I AM NOBODY IMPORTANT JUST A LOW LEVEL SHINRA EMPLOYEE WORKING A JOB DON’T WORRY ABOUT IT, so maybe they assumed he was an autonomous robot not unlike Chadley until that moment, who knows. The excess of magic and whimsy in Rebirth has made me realize that these people do indeed live in a world of magic that is sometimes very silly, they’re not gonna question the existence of a sentient magic cat robot person, it’ll only be a shock when they realize one of the Shinra directors was expressing himself by helping them and singing a silly meow song. And also reporting on their movement to Tseng, because if he doesn’t prove his loyalty to Rufus his job could be in danger. So what if he helps them a little too enthusiastically and has an absolute blast doing it?

(Hahahaaaaa my fanfic Reeve is much better at and more concerned with hiding this than canon Reeve, I can’t even tell if he’s actually hiding it from people who aren’t Tseng or not. He’s at least hiding it from his assistant, probably. Oh dear I knew I should have finished my fanfics before Rebirth, even though they aren’t supposed to be fully based on the remake trilogy I am definitely gonna feel obliged to do some rewrites.)

(It does please me to note that there is so far zero reason to see Cait Sith as a separate person from Reeve, very clearly he just basically is Reeve, and we were also shown that he was using his computer to photoshop the wanted posters at a time he also should be actively controlling Cait Sith. Yayyyyy headcanon accurate so far!)

It really does delight me that Reeve is having way too much fun doing this. Of course he is, the man’s horribly repressed.

And Cait Sith is indeed fun to play!

Look, there has been so much else incredibly good and fun and interesting about Rebirth, but Reeve is, still, my favorite, and he’s undoubtedly not as common to talk about as, say, Zack, so I am just gonna commit to being a person who just rambles about Reeve on tumblr periodically because I love him.

I’m just at the desert sidequests section after completing all the Good Saucer/Corel Prison plot—fantastic job with Barret’s character development, by the way—and I am so psyched for the 1000% more Reeve content this game is bestowing upon me. I’m just gonna state for the record real quick that as of right now, I think:

-he controls Cait Sith with his mind, with a magic ability, and Cait Sith is also largely a robot

-he is playing both sides, attempting to mitigate his guilt and the evil things Shinra does by helping Avalanche, while also passing information on them to Tseng (who passes it on to Rufus) probably to prove his loyalty and keep his position

-I haven’t totally decided whether this was all his own idea or if somebody told him to go spy on them, but he is clearly way too into the Join Avalanche part of the plan and is going above and beyond on his own initiative

-because we were directly shown Tseng’s involvement, if the Marlene kidnapping happens, I think it will 100% be something Tseng sets up as insurance. It wouldn’t be Reeve’s idea, not with how sympathetic he is towards Avalanche, and Tseng has some history there and knows where Marlene is and how much she means to them.

Okay, I suspect I started repeating myself at a few points in there so I’m gonna stop. Prepare yourselves for me to just lose my mind and ramble every time Cait Sith and/or Reeve do anything remotely important.

#ff7 rebirth #final fantasy vii rebirth #ff7 rebirth spoilers #ff7 spoilers #I could put a read more tag on it but really #rebirth isn’t even trying to hide cait Sith’s identity #Cait Sith #reeve tuesti

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nothingtoseeherebyeexx · 11 months

Text

Delicate, Chapter Two: …Ready For It?

same disclaimer as last time this is just for funsies and i’m not a writer !! also we’ve unlocked cissa and lily povs!!

CW: a bit of alcohol-related struggles

< prev chapter next chapter >

“Lily that was mental! You can’t just say things like that, especially in your situation! What if you get sued?”

“The money you waste on PR teams, I invest in lawyers!” Lily replied, dropping her keys on the table, an exasperated Alice following her inside their home.

“She brought up Snape,” Lily justified herself with a sigh, “You know how I get when they bring up Snape.”

They had just come back from Rita Skeeter’s show, and of course it had been a complete disaster: that woman loved to pick the touchiest topics during her live shows, banally exploiting private matters for views and publicity. That was one of the two reasons most celebrities refused to be her guests, the other being that she was generally a very unpleasant woman to interact with.

A right bitch, if you will.

However, Lily’s situation was…singular.

About a year before she had upset a few (many) big shots in the music and acting industries, gaining a lot of enemies and getting terrible backlash. It had been a horrible year, and thankfully her friends were there for her, but she wanted to get back on the scene. She wasn’t going to let some rich assholes dim her light.

So, of course, when Rita Skeeter had offered her an interview, she had accepted out of desperation. Like an idiot.

“She read one of Avery’s Tweets and you went crazy!” whined Alice.

“I didn’t go crazy-“

“‘How is Lily Evans still relevant? She only makes songs about Snape, he basically made her famous’ And what did you say, Lily?”

Lily bit her lip, remembering the moment with just the tiniest bit of shame. The smile Rita had on her lips while reading that stupid Tweet, the blind rage it had caused.

“Please remind me, what did you say?”

“Something mature and responsible, i’m sure-“

“You said, and I quote, ‘Just to let Avery Jr know, I was the one who made that bitch fucking famous’” Alice countered, eyebrows raised.

Lily swallowed. “…I didn’t say anything else though, did I?”

“Because they cut the cameras!”

“Listen,” rebutted Lily, sitting on the sofa in their living room and pulling out her phone.

“I may have implied that he’s gay but it’s not my fault if he finds that offensive! It’s his problem, really, and he can’t bring that up to court.”

“I think you should focus on the fact that you called Severus Snape a bitch, and that he would be a nobody if it weren’t for you,” countered Alice, taking a pot of peach yoghurt from the fridge. “I pity Longbottom, really: lately being your manager seems like a fucking nightmare.”

“Good thing he’s good at his job, then. He’s like part of the family now.” Lily looked up from her phone smiling, “You are the mum, he’s the dad, Marlene is the reckless younger sister and i’m the angry teen full of hatred for this world.”

“We’re both too young to be your parents, and he might be suspicious of his wife writing about women in her love songs, you know.” Alice smiled, taking a spoonful of yoghurt. “What are you watching?”

“Oh, it’s Narcissa’s last show,” explained Lily with a shrug, “She performed a few songs for a festival last week and I heard great things about a certain performance…apparently she’s been working with this girl for a few months, singing together. She’s been hiding a gem, that’s what her fans have been saying.”

“And how come you’re suddenly so interested in Narcissa Black? Didn’t know you were a fan of hers.” Alice got closer, leaning over Lily’s head to watch the video on her phone. She carried the faint smell of peaches and the weight of past personal issues in her voice, but Lily wasn’t going to pry. Much.

“I like her music, actually. But it’s this new girl that really piqued my interest. New blood, always exciting.” Lily paused the video and decided to push her luck, just a bit. “They remind me of us, you know: a younger singer, guided by a-“

“I’m not like Black. And you were already popular when we started living together with Marlene, so I don’t think it counts.” Alice cut her off, harshly, and started walking away. “I’m going to my room, see if I can write something.”

Lily silently accepted her defeat and swiftly changed topic. “Pizza tonight?”

But Alice had already gone up to her room, so Lily took it as permission to order whatever she wanted.

She had no clue what Alice’s issue with Narcissa Black was: in the three years she had been living with her, Alice had never given a sign of knowing Black, and Lily could’ve easily thought Alice had absolutely no connection to her.

However, the way Alice became quiet whenever Narcissa showed up on TV and how she’d turn off the radio when Black’s songs were playing indicated otherwise: in Lily’s opinion, Alice was trying really hard to hide her…hatred? No, not hatred-distaste for Narcissa, but her indifference was a too-long practiced craft for it to be genuine.

Lily thought that constantly trying to ignore someone counted as actually thinking about them, and she had therefore concluded that Alice Fortescue was mildly obsessed with Narcissa Black.

Marlene and Frank agreed that there was something going on between the two, or at least there had been, so Lily supposed she wasn’t just jumping to conclusions.

However, whenever they tried to bring it up, they were always shut off by Alice, and, as childish as it may sound, it hurt: Lily, Marlene and Alice had known each other for years, they had shared fears, hopes, secrets. They had never broken each other’s trust, and that was one of the fundamentals of their friendship.

So why was Alice so incredibly jealous of the corner Narcissa occupied in her mind? Was she ever going to let them in?

She would, eventually.

Or at least Lily hoped so.

In the mean time, she had a new singer to focus her attention on: an unknown girl named Mary Macdonald, who performed for the first time with the Narcissa Black, as the closing act of a festival that had sold out probably because of Black. The piece they were going to sing was a fan favourite, Born to Die, so the crowd’s expectations were extremely high.

This Mary Macdonald was either exceptionally confident, or completely mental.

But when she started to sing, Lily was immediately captivated. From the way she walked on the stage, to how she swayed to the music, to the bright smile on her lips when she wasn’t singing, it was impossible for Lily to take her eyes off her. For a few minutes, Mary’s voice seemed like the only real thing in the world, making everything else feel mundane, unworthy of attention.

Narcissa let Mary steal the spotlight, looking at her proudly like she was showing the world a ground breaking discovery. And she wasn’t wrong, because the girl sang for barely five minutes, and yet Lily was already starving for more.

How could Mary fear the eyes of a few thousands of people when she sang like the whole world was watching? How could she feel the pressure of being a guest on another star’s show, when she shone just as bright?

Lily didn’t need much more after that.

She opened her chat with Alice and Marlene.

lil evans: i’m going to sing with Mary Macdonald and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.

lil evans: and we’re having pizza tonight.

“Making her sing during that show was completely mental, Cissa.” Amelia was leaning against the desk in front of Narcissa, arms crossed.

It had always been hard for Narcissa to find her intimidating, since they were similar in both age and personality, so she was one of the few who weren’t affected by her signature Amelia Bones Glare. In addition to that, her mischievous eyes and Narcissa’s satisfied smile made the whole conversation feel more like two friends chatting casually, rather than a lecture about Narcissa’s…surprise song. Introducing Mary to a crowd like that had been a bold choice, but neither of the singers regretted it.

Narcissa and Mary had been working together everyday for two months now, 6 hours of practice daily. Narcissa was aware this rhythm was probably unbearable for Mary, who had another job, but the girl had been set on working her ass off to start thinking about her own album as soon as possible, and even when she eventually started working on it, she still spent a quarter of her day singing.

They even spent part of their free time together: considering how much Mary seemed to dread staying home and how discreet she was about her private life, Narcissa had the suspicion her family situation wasn’t exactly the best, so she had been inviting her over to her place as often as possible with the weirdest excuses to give her a distraction.

It’s not like Narcissa could have helped it, she knew what a shit family could do to a person, and she genuinely appreciated Mary’s company, too.

So much, in fact, that she had taken her to perform live for the first time as soon as she had the chance.

“You’re right, Mel, it was crazy. It worked, though,” replied Narcissa nonchalantly, bringing a cigarette to her lips. Thank God Amelia was also a smoker and allowed the occasional cig-breaks indoors, as long as Narcissa had to share. “It’s all the media has been talking about for the past two weeks. Besides, we are going to drop her album in, like, less than a month, some extra publicity can’t hurt.”

“It was her first time singing to an audience, and you made her jump on a stage in front of live cameras,” Amelia cocked her head to the side, eyes wide in amazement. “She could’ve fucked it up, and I wouldn’t have blamed her.”

“But she didn’t,” countered Narcissa, resting her head against the armchair. “Because we talked about it beforehand. Listen, that girl was born to perform, her place isn’t inside a small recording room. I wanted the people to see her for the first time at her best.”

Amelia shook her head with something vaguely resembling fondness. “You really do care about her, don’t you? Pass it.” Narcissa inhaled and handed her the cigarette. She exhaled and watched as the smoke floated in the air, light under the sun rays like a bride’s veil.

“Why did you even agree to introduce her to me? I didn’t know you had such a kind heart.” Amelia commented, eyes squinted towards the window. “Not that I’m ungrateful. I have a lot of hope in Mary. However, you didn’t strike me as the type of woman who wanted to be…a mentor, I guess.”

Narcissa was still watching the smoke leave the cigarette, head tilted back.

She still didn’t know why she’d let Mary into her home that night, months before.

She knew, however, that she hadn’t hoped to make it past 27, yet there she was, not too far from her 28th birthday.

Leaving her parents’ house and throwing herself onto new projects hadn’t magically changed Narcissa’s life for the better, and she’d also found herself completely alone. There was also the fact that she ended up high or drunk way too often to not consider it a problem, although in the past she hadn’t worried about it too much: many great stars died like that, and Narcissa wasn’t too bothered by the thought of joining them.

But then Mary showed up, with her determination and stoic audacity, so set on really owning her life, and made Narcissa realise how scary her indifference towards death was.

In truth, that night Amelia had answered her email almost immediately.

“The album is promising, but there’s a lot of work to do, Narcissa.”

“I know, but I swear, she has it. The spark, I-I felt it. I could help-“

“You have to be able to help, Narcissa. You know what I mean, right?”

She didn’t drink for five days, after that call. And on the fifth day, Amelia gave her a chance, and Mary officially became part of her life. Since then, there had been highs and lows: sometimes she went to Edgar (who was much more empathetic than Amelia, though Narcissa would never say that to her face), and he’d go to her house to throw away her remaining alcohol. Other times, when Mary was willing to drink with her, she let herself take a glass or two: Narcissa’s rule of thumb was drinking one glass less than Mary, and considering that the girl was still wary of drinking more than a few glasses or a couple of shots, Narcissa hadn’t gotten tipsy in two whole months.

“Narcissa? Are you there?” Amelia waved her hand in front of her eyes. Narcissa noted that the cigarette had disappeared somewhere.

“Yes, Mel. Was just thinking.”

“About?” Amelia asked, eyebrow raised, but Narcissa didn’t say anything. She didn’t like talking about her struggles, but Amelia Bones always seemed to read her mind, which was equally endearing and annoying. So, at the silence that followed, she said, “You’re doing better, by the way. Have you told-“

“I’m not going to tell her-“

“NAR-CIS-SAAAA” Mary barged into the room, eyes bulging and breathing heavily. Her arms were open wide, phone in hand.

“Ma-ryyyy?” Narcissa replied in confusion while raising her arms, mimicking the girl. Mary rushed to her and shoved the phone in her face with an excited smile.

“Som-someone just contacted me and you won’t believe-oh, Amelia, you need to see this, too!”

“Stay still, child, you’re moving too much.” complained Narcissa, squinting at the bright screen and wrapping a hand around Mary’s wrist to steady it. Amelia quickly moved closer, read the first few words, and immediately frowned. “That’s a name I haven’t seen in a while.”

Dear Miss Mary Macdonald,

This is Lily Evans, if the email address wasn’t a dead giveaway. I just saw a video of your performance with Narcissa Black, and I must say, you’ve instantly enchanted me. I could spend many words praising your incredible singing, but perhaps it would be more efficient to get straight to the point.

You may already know this, but because of certain circumstances last year, I completely disappeared from the public eye. I will soon make a comeback though, and I was wondering if you wanted to write a song with me to put in the album. Or we could write a single, however you prefer: to be completely honest, this is just an excuse to sing with you.

I’ll leave my phone number, in case you wish to reach out to me <3

Have a delightful day,

Miss Lily Evans

“What do I do, what do I do?” Mary asked leaving her phone to Narcissa and Amelia, their eyes still glued to the screen.

“Well, Evans has a big fan base, a collaboration with her would be great.” Amelia said, still analysing the email like it was a cryptic message from an alien.

“Do you also sense a flirty undertone or am I seeing things?” she whispered.

“I don’t know, maybe she’s just very informal and frien-no okay, now that you’ve mentioned it, I can kinda see it.” Narcissa replied just as quietly.

“Shoot your shot Mary!” she said, smiling fondly at the girl, who was covering her face with her hands.

“But first, consider that Evans has been in the middle of some drama lately. Despite her loyal fans, her reputation has gone to shit during the past year. You know that, right?” Amelia asked, standing up next to Narcissa’s chair.

“…Actually, I don’t.” Mary replied.

“How do you-“ Amelia whispered, appalled. “Well, I’ll send you some links so you can get what I mean. I had the chance to speak to her a couple of times, she’s a good person. A bit fierce and isn’t afraid of speaking her mind, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing,” Amelia got closer and put a hand on Mary’s arm.

“I bet she’ll be a pleasure to work with. If you want I can contact her manager.”

Mary chewed on her lip, deep in thought.

“Fuck it, I’m doing it.” she snapped, getting her phone back from Narcissa, who let out a small ‘ooooh’ as encouragement.

“But I’ll text her myself. We’ll figure out the rest later.”

“I agree. You should also meet her in person, first,” intervened Narcissa, knowingly. “You don’t want to work with someone you don’t get along with. Two artists need chemistry.”

“Mhm…” Mary agreed, distractedly. “I’ll go, then. I just wanted to tell you first, I was absolutely freaking out-“

“Of course you were, it’s Lily Evans we’re talking about,” said Amelia understandingly, “Everyone knows at least one of her songs.”

“…Yeah,” commented Mary, with an unsure smile. “Yes, of course I do. Well, thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow.” The two women watched Mary leave the room, practically bouncing instead of walking.

“So, Mary and Lily…” started Amelia once the room had gone back to quiet, still eyeing the door.

“Apparently.” Narcissa already knew where this was going.

“You know she’s Fortescue’s girl, right?”

“I’m aware.”

“…Interesting.”

“I’m not even looking at you but I can feel your stupid grin. Stop it.”

The phone was ringing when Lily got out of the shower: it was rather late, and she wasn’t really expecting any calls. She didn’t recognise the number on the screen, but it wasn’t the usual Unknown Number that meant Snape was trying to get in contact with her, so she accepted the call.

“Hello?”

“Good evening, is this Miss Lily Evans?” greeted a voice on the other side, and Lily recognised with a smile the old-fashioned welcome.

“Well yes, could this be my dear Miss Mary Macdonald?” she replied, just as charmingly. So Mary wanted to work with her, despite everything…maybe Marlene was right, things were getting more promising.

“My my, it may just be her,” then she laughed softly, and it was such a pleasant sound Lily wanted to put it in a song, somehow. “Sorry, I broke character. Anyway, am I disturbing you?”

“Not everyone is born an actor, darling, and no, not at all-“ Lily scrunched her curls with a wet towel.

“Good, because I wanted to tell you I would love to write a song with you,“ Lily saw her smile widen as she looked at herself in the mirror.

“-But I’m afraid we’ll have to wait at least three weeks.” Mary concluded, sounding so sorry Lily couldn’t manage to feel too disappointed.

“Oh, it’s fine, I can be patient. How come we have to postpone our meeting? If I can ask, of course.”

“Well, you see, I’m working on-“

“LILY!” Marlene barged into her room screaming, her brown eyes open wide and blonde hair even messier than usual.

One thing about Marlene is that she never banally entered rooms, she always barged in, slamming doors open and announcing the motifs of her intrusion. It was a rather dramatic habit, but it always made Alice smile when Marlene appeared on top of the stairs, shouted “HUNGRY!”, and set the dinner-making process in action. Lily was just grateful someone in the house never forgot about meals.

“Marlene-“

“PETER IS BACK IN TOWN!” she continued, grabbing Lily’s shoulder.

“Excuse me, Mary, can you hang in there for a minute? I’ll be back shortly.” Lily explained, widening her eyes at Marlene, who quickly covered her mouth with her hands, surprised but not really apologetic.

Mary laughed, “Sure, no problem.”

“I’m sorry…” Marlene smiled as Lily muted herself, although she seemed more enthusiastic than sorry.

Marlene, Peter and James had known each other since they were kids, and being all separated for work matters (Marlene and Peter had always worked solo, while James had formed a duo with Sirius Black when they were sixteen), they were all overexcited when they had an excuse to see each other. The four of them together reminded Lily of those puppies that are perpetually either jumping, running or barking.

“It’s okay. So, Peter is back?” Lily smiled.

When Peter was younger, he used to be really quiet and shy, always getting dragged into trouble by James and Marlene first, and then Sirius, too.

Or at least, that’s what Marlene had told her. Lily found it hard to believe, considering how Peter acted now: he was comfortable on the stage, always ready to joke, in front of thousands of people or with his closest friends alike; he wasn’t necessarily the loudest at a party (that honour went to Sirius and James), but he was still a pleasure to have a conversation (and especially talk shit) with.

“Not yet, actually. He’ll be back this Saturday,” Marlene answered, biting back a smile.

“I bet Effie is hosting a welcome-home party as soon as he gets in town,” Lily continued, remembering how Mrs Potter always found opportunities to gather all her “kids” (as she had nominated James and all his friends) under her roof.

“Oh, it’ll be a big one this time,” Marlene confirmed. “She has already asked me to invite every living being I know. Wait, are you on the phone with Mary Macdonald?”

“Shit, I’m making her wait. Can we talk about this later?” Lily asked, bringing the phone to her chest. Nice first impression, idiot.

“Wait, wait. Invite her, too.” Marlene suggested, wiggling her eyebrows.

“I can’t ask her to come to a party all alone with a bunch of people she doesn’t even know-“

“Then ask her to bring Narcissa, too,” Marlene wiggled her eyebrows more aggressively.

It took Lily an instant. She gaped.

“You sick, sick bastard. Alice will be there. Shit will go down, you know?”

“Why? Alice and Narcissa don’t even know each other,” Marlene batted her eyelashes with an innocent shrug. “Besides, Sirius hasn’t spoken to his cousin in forever, they need to catch up.”

Lily licked her lips thoughtfully and brought her attention back to the phone. A formal party wasn’t the best setting to talk about work, but it was perfect for getting to know someone. And Lily really wanted to get to know Mary. She unmuted herself and brought the phone to her ear.

“Hey, before we continue, are you free this Saturday?”

that was all, hope you liked it and let me know if you want to be tagged when i post updates bc it won’t be that often lmao

#lily in her rep era #there’s another chapter before the party chapter(s) but i’m writing them rn and i’m having a lot of fun ngl #anyways #marauders #marauders era #marylily #mary macdonald #lily evans #narcissa black #alice fortescue #alicissa #nobleflower #marlene mckinnon #i need to find a title asap #so i can make a tag #fic: delicate

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