#university has been killing my soul a lil bit

[nerefee]

in a last desperate ditch effort I signed up for a course on ancient greek to resuscitate my love for studying

[sexysapphicshopowner]

🤎 Context/AU (Alternate Universe): Big news for the dreamgirls!! Aftermath of 'Twenty Foreplay'

🤎 soft!wife!dreamgirl!sevika x wife!dreamgirl!reader

🤎 CW/TW: abuse, violence, death, murder, child sexual abuse, adult language, pregnancy, lesbians, pet names, fluff, angst, abortion attempt, sevika has a tragic backstory, eating disorder, drug use, mentions of alcoholism, sorry if I forgot any, not proofread/edited so excuse any mistakes

🤎 A/N: It's late, I know, life happens. I actually cut it short bc it was starting to get a lot heavier than I wanted and the flow was starting to get a bit sloppy. So have this.

🤎 Notes: Um, I cried while writing most of the flashback parts. I love the dreamgirls.

🤎 Word count: 12.4k

Aromatic wisps of rosemary and sage wafted through the bathroom, the scents intermingling with that of the light and warm, semi-bubbly milk bath your wife had drawn for you when she’d gotten home for the day. You let out a soft sigh, your head barely hanging over the edge as you sunk further into the calming water, trying to let as much stress seep out of you as possible. 

Familiar and comforting hands found your shoulders, a kiss being planted on your temple as she spoke, voice barely a rumble over the neo-soul that was playing from the speaker on the sink counter, “How are you feeling, dream girl?” 

“Better now that you’re in here,” you hummed as you looked up to her, pressing a kiss to her chin as she massaged your shoulders. 

Her laugh was quiet as she ducked lower to press an upside-down kiss to your lips before kissing up the bridge of your nose. The playful little pecks turned reverent as her lips landed back at your forehead, peppering across the area as her hands moved. 

Fingers splayed out over your neck and partially your collar as she pressed her thumbs behind your ears, rubbing in circles. You all but melted in her hands, letting your eyes slip closed once more as you enjoyed her touch and kiss. 

“Have you started yet? I dropped last night.” 

You shook your head, letting out a little sigh, “Not yet, though I wish it would hurry up. These body aches are killing me and if I keep gagging, I’m gonna throw up and that’s gonna make me cry.” 

She cooed, thumbs now tracing down, applying a slight pressure as she dragged them along the line of your jaw, “My poor little mama...” 

“Why poor me? You’re the one that’s actually on. I should’ve been the one drawing a bath for you when you got home.” 

“Sure, but if you never drop then, you know what that means,” she hinted. 

You rolled your eyes playfully, humming, “True... we’ll see. I’ll let you know what happens. We both know my cycle is still very off and weird.”    “Right, right. Now about this gag-” 

“No.” 

“You didn’t even let me finish,” she pouted. 

“I don’t have to. You were about to ask if it’s too bad for me to suck a lil’ dick. You’re so sick and twisted and completely un-slick, little nasty,” you shook your head, pushing her face playfully. 

“Well, you’ve got me there. It was worth a try in my book,” she shrugged. 

“Uh-huh. You disgust me.” 

“Do I? Do I really,” she asked playfully, as you looked up, leaning your head back just a little further. 

You beckoned her closer as you leaned your head back a little further, “Kiss, kiss.” 

She happily obliges, leaning down to meet your lips as you stretch up just the tiniest bit. The kiss isn’t long, but it was enough to sate you until you could kiss her properly later. She mumbles against your lips as she pulls away, “I’m so in love with you and everything about you...” 

Your breath caught as you looked up at her, finding that same indescribable flame that always burned within her silvery eyes. Somehow the color still hadn’t dulled against the harsh reality of life as a Zaunite. Even more, that loving look in them only seemed to be larger every time you caught her eye. 

You were swooning. 

It wasn’t until her lips pressed to your forehead that you were pulled out of your reverie, blinking up at her as you turned around in the tub to look up at her properly as you leaned onto your arms, folding them over the edge of the bathtub, “I love you more.” 

“Yeah?” 

You nodded, beckoning her closer with the crook of a finger, “Uh-huh. C'mere. I’ll show you how much I love you.” 

She all but fell back into your lips, sighing into your kiss as it consumed her, your nails raking over her scalp as your fingers slid into her hair, thumbs tracing her jaw just in front of her ears. 

In a very uncharacteristic move, she pulled from the embrace before you could even deepen it, huffing, “You can’t kiss me like that, dreamy...” 

“Why not?” 

She shook her head to clear it, wiping her face, “Because then I’m gonna wanna get into the tub with you, then I’m gonna fuck you and I’m supposed to be focused on doing other things right now.” 

“Such as?” 

She just chuckled in response before planting a much more chaste kiss to your lips, following it with another to the tip of your nose, the final one touching your forehead as she stood, “What fun would it be if I just told you, mama? I’ll be back in a sec with some sparkling white grape. Just in case I did knock you up, which... not to toot my own dick, but I’m pretty certain I did.” 

Your laugh was more of a splutter as you choked on your spit and air at the same time, “For Janna’s sake, Sevi, it’s ‘toot my own horn’. I can’t stand your nasty ass sometimes.” 

“Then it’s a wonderful thing you’re in the tub right now, isn’t it?” 

“Girl- just hurry up, I want cuddles when I get out of here.” 

She blew you a final kiss from the doorway before disappearing into the rest of the house to do whatever it was she was hiding from you. As promised, she’d come back with the sparkling juice, to which you accepted gratefully with a little kiss before sinking back into your bath, lazily holding the champagne flute over the side of the tub as you sipped on the drink idly.

Sevika doesn’t like men. 

All the men out there who’ve ever wanted to fuck her can thank her father for the aversion. 

You see, when your childhood consists of being pimped out to strange men to pay your alcoholic father’s gambling debts, constantly getting into street fights, and then getting your ass handed to you once you get home- you don’t have much time to really discover yourself. 

Maybe in a different universe- one where Sevika wasn’t born in Zaun... where her father wasn’t abusive... where she wasn’t sex trafficked by the very man that was meant to protect her... she might’ve been attracted to men. 

But this wasn’t that universe. 

Her fear of relationships with men quickly grew into an outright disgust of them. 

And then it got worse. 

For Sevika, it started with the vomiting. 

For probably all the ladies living up Topside, the first sign would’ve been a missed period. Thanks to life in the Lanes, however, Sevika was pretty used to her period not coming at all sometimes. It never came with a baby before though. 

She’d been dancing the line of unknown pregnancy scares since she was 11. Now she was 21, still under the thumb of her father, and even worse- pregnant.

It wasn’t long before you were wrapped in a fluffy robe, feet slid into your house slippers as Sev guided you into the kitchen with her hands over your eyes under the guise of ‘driving you’ to her secret little surprise. 

You stumbled a bit and she took a little pause, “You okay?” 

“I smell food.” 

Her chuckle was hearty and you could almost hear the head shake that accompanied her words, “I’m sure you do. Almost there, dream girl.” 

Her hands were removed from your eyes without warning and allowed your eyes to adjust as she leaned her face over your shoulder, hands coming down to their usual home base of your waist as you took in the ambient, candlelit dinner she’d put together for you guys, “Sev...” 

She shook her head before you could continue, “Yes, I’m on my period and that’s your favorite time to spoil me, but I wanted to treat my wife.” 

You poked your lip out as you turned your head to look at her, “Sev...” 

She giggled, peppering the side of your face with kisses, “Don’t cry, mama... it’s just dinner. I can’t even cook like you.” 

You sniffled, fanning your eyes, “Shut it, my emotions are just everywhere right now. It’s not about your cooking skills, even though we both know I’ve taught you well... It’s about the gesture, and you know it.” 

She nodded, lips now at your shoulder, “I know... hope you love it.” 

“Of course, I love it... I love you...” you mumbled, holding a hand against her cheek. 

“Alright, alright, sit and eat,” she prompted, pulling your chair out with her foot. Before you could protest as she sat you down, she pressed several kisses to your face, “And I love you too. Never forget it.” 

You had a stupid smile on your face throughout the entirety of dinner.

Emetophobia. 

The fear of vomiting or seeing others being sick. 

Sevika had experienced her father’s violent reactions to her throwing up before. 

The first time was when she was 6. 

It was a particularly bad winter in Zaun. The smog was thicker, the cold seemed to seep into the very core of the Lanes. 

She’d been battling the sniffles and a nasty fever for days, all the while still being forced to ‘put herself to use’ by her father. 

Then it got worse. 

Then she began to throw up. 

At first, she hid it well. She’d swallow it down when she couldn’t get out of his sight. When she could, she’d always go out to an alley, ducking and weaving through bodies of what the little girl only hoped was just drunkards and junkies who’d passed out on a bender rather than what a six-year-old Sevika knew in her heart were either already dead or close to it. 

Up until this point, the extent of physical abuse coming directly from her father was a slap across the face or being picked up by the front of her shirt and shaken around. 

Then she brought him breakfast and didn’t make it out of his room fast enough to go puke out back. 

That was the catalyst for the abuses that would be-fall her for the next few decades of her life. 

Throw up tastes disgusting. 

It tastes even worse going back down after being licked up off your father’s grimy boots. 

Even worse, the feeling of wanting to re-release those fluids again when you were forced to lick those same boots clean until they were no longer grimy. 

Sevika trained herself to hold her throw up in after that.

Your music from the bathroom was moved to one of the counters in the kitchen, incense burning in the holder as you and Sevika cuddled up into each other, you perched up on her lap with the two of you picking from the same plate in between soft kisses and intimate looks. 

It was just you and your wife, enjoying the presence and company of one another in the midst of the meal she’d prepared. 

You leaned back against her chest, letting out a happy sigh, “You know... I’m so proud of you for this.” 

“Yeah,” she asked softly. The softness of her voice, the genuine question in that one word was so cute. You turned in her lap, sitting sideways atop her, cupping her cheek in a hand as you smiled warmly, pressing a kiss to the bridge of her nose. 

You kept your voice at the same level of hers as you responded, “Of course, I’m proud, baby. You pan fried the rice properly and everything. I’m so very proud to see you picking up cooking a little more.” 

Your heart broke a little at the tears that glossed over her silver orbs as she looked up at you, “Really? You mean it?” 

“Yes, baby, I mean it. What’s wrong,” you cooed, bringing your other hand to her cheek to stroke both of them with your thumbs, “Talk to me, baby.” 

She shrugged, looking away, “I dunno... I just... I feel like I’ve been struggling to eat lately. Like I’ve been having to force myself to eat so I just... I wasn’t sure if I was in the right headspace to be cooking tonight, but I wanted to treat you, you know?” 

“Sev...” you began. 

“Don’t... it’s okay, doll. I’ll-” 

“Sevika,” you stopped her, keeping her face turned to yours as you moved again, this time to straddle her, “Will you look at me? Please?” 

She shook her head in your gentle grip, tears beginning to well, threatening to spill over as she fought hard to blink them back, “I can’t...” 

“And why not?” 

“I don’t want to see you disappointed in me...” she whispered, voice barely the ghost of a whisper. It was the smallest you’d heard her voice in a while. The last time was... you softened, further, bringing your voice to a warmer tone. 

“I’m not disappointed in you, baby. And I never could be, especially not for something like that. I’m actually proud of you. Very proud that instead of shutting down, you’re talking about it. I know how hard that is for you, especially when it comes to your eating. So with that being said, will you please look at me?” 

Watery eyes met yours as she nibbled the inside of her cheek, whispering, “Promise?” 

“Of course, baby. I promise, I’m not disappointed.” 

She took a shuddery, breath, closing her eyes as she leaned her forehead against your chest, “I love you...” 

You pressed a kiss into her hair, rubbing her back, “I love you too, baby. You wanna try and eat a little something more for me? Or do you just wanna talk? What did you eat today?” 

“Um.... I had a few bites of the lunch you made me, but then I.... let Ran eat the rest... I’m sorry...” 

“Baby, you don’t have to keep apologizing. Can you at least drink some water and eat a little something? Just a couple of bites?” She whined and you let out a little sigh, running your fingers through her hair, “Have you smoked yet?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Didn’t help?” 

“No.” 

“Okay... You’ll try again later?” 

“Sure.” 

“If you can’t that’s fine, but you gotta promise me you’ll try and eat well tomorrow, okay?” 

“I promise...” 

A plaintive silence fell over the two of you. It wasn’t uncomfortable, just... somber. You didn’t comment when she began to pick a few bites off the plate again, simply smiling that she was getting some form of food in her, even if it wasn’t a lot. 

At some point, Sevika had stopped eating, hands gripping at your waist, hips and thighs as she pressed kisses along the line of your neck and shoulder. Her hands strayed to your stomach as she mumbled, “Hey, mama?” 

“Yes, my love?” 

She chuckled as you stuffed your face with food, wiping some from your cheek, “What if I really did knock you up in one try?” 

“I wouldn’t be surprised. I mean, how many times did you nut in me? And we were both ovulating around that time too. It was like perfectly timed for us to actually end up with a baby.” 

She didn’t say anything else for a few moments, and you went right back to eating before she rested her chin on your shoulder, tracing your side with her mechanic hand, “You make me want a family...” 

“Yeah?” 

She nodded, “Yeah... even with life down here... the work that I do... you make me wanna have something to leave behind... a little family that’s like... a legacy of our love. Like, yes, I wanna be a mother and give our kids the things that I never had, but I also want people to see our kids and know that those are our kids. Like... they know that our kids have two loving moms that are actively in love.” 

You let out a little giggle, turning to the side in her lap to wrap your arms around her neck, pressing a kiss to her cheek as you held her other one, stroking your thumb over her cheekbone, “You’re so cute... I love you, and I would love to have your babies, and I know what you’re trying to say, I promise.” 

She relaxed, letting out a sigh of relief as she leaned into your hand on her face, “Thank Janna, I thought I was just rambling stupidly.” 

You shook your head, pressing more kisses to her face and lips, “No, I understood you perfectly.” 

“Have I told you how much I love you today?”

You giggled, nodding, “Yeah, a little bit. You always remind me that I’m loved... it’s why I married you.” 

“Really?”

“Of course. Baby, you told me you loved me within our first four dates. It was so cute because you were still learning to navigate love and healthy relationships... we both were, and still are, but here I had the big, scary lady of Zaun and she was looking at me like a puppy and telling me that she thought she was falling in love with me. I think that was the moment when I truly felt like I had found my person in you. And well... the rest is really history. By the time you asked me to marry you, I couldn’t say anything but yes.” 

She had idly reached for her wedding band that she always wore on a chain around her neck, fiddling with it as she looked up at you in her lap, “You never once like... entertained saying no? Or maybe waiting a little longer?” 

“Never. I knew when I met you that I had to snatch you up and it was just my luck that you seemed to have the same thought process when it came to me. I love you. And that’s not changing. So yes, I mean it when I say I wanna have your children, or that I love you more than anything, or that I’d do anything you asked of me because you’re... you’re everything to me, Sev... and I know that when it comes to us talking about kids it’s hard for you... but you’ve given me so much and I wanna give you the same thing in return. If given the chance, I wouldn’t change a thing about our relationship... well...” 

Her eyes snapped up to you from her ring as worry laced through her features, “Well?” 

You snickered, placing a gentle kiss to the bridge of her nose, “If I could go back, I would make sure I’d asked you to marry me before you could ask me.” 

“You’re so,” she rolled her eyes, unable to hide her smile as you shut her up with another little kiss. She pulled you further into her lap with a happy little sigh, “I love you, dream girl.” 

You leaned into her, resting your head on her shoulder as you wrapped an arm around her, your other hand coming up to her chest, fingernail tracing along her collarbone, “I love you too.” 

“Done eating?” 

You nodded, patting your stomach, “May or may not be a baby-baby in here, but there’s definitely a food baby in here.” 

The way she perked up almost like a little kid was too cute as she asked, “I did good?” 

The sated and full sigh you let out was all the answer she really needed, but you furthered it as you spoke, “Fuck yes...”

She rubbed your back with one hand, her other one grabbing hold of your hand to kiss each of your fingertips, “You’re so cute. It wasn’t even all that, mama.” 

“Uh-huh, it was gourmet. My compliments to the chef.” 

She raised a brow, voice full of ulterior motives and that all-too-familiar lilt as she muttered, “If you weren’t clearly about to fall asleep, I would ask for some better compliments, you know.” 

You quirked a brow sleepily, looking up at her through low and hooded eyes, “Huh?” 

“Alright, c’mon. To bed with you,” she prodded, adjusting her hold on you to pick you up with your legs wrapped around her waist. 

You instinctively looped your arms around her neck, pressing a few kisses to it as you hummed, “I love you.” 

“So I’ve noticed. I love you too.” 

“I love you.” 

She chuckled, “I love you too, baby.” 

“I love you.” 

She used her foot to push open the door to your shared bedroom, nodding as she used her foot to close the door once more, “Uh-huh, I love you too, dreamy. What’s up?” 

You shrugged as she sat down on the edge of the bed with you in her lap again, “Just feel like I haven’t said it enough today, you were at work all day, baby. Gotta reach our quota.” 

“We have a quota?” 

“Mhm,” you nodded against her shoulder, eyes closed as you planted lazy kisses against whatever skin was closest to you. 

Her breath hitched in her throat and she assumed a firmer grip on your hip as she hummed, “And what exactly would that number be?” 

“We say ‘I love you’ at least 76 times a day. And we kiss at least 280 times.” 

She chuckled, hand stroking along your hip and thigh as she nodded, “And where did you get these numbers from? Your ass?” 

“I’ve always counted.” 

That shut her up before she asked her next question a few moments later, “Are these exact numbers?” 

“An average. I did say ‘at least’.” 

“Huh.... you’re gay.” 

“Okay, but you married me so what does that say about you?” 

“That I did.” She turned to press a kiss to your forehead, just below your hairline before resting her head against yours, “I love you, dream girl.” 

You melted in her arms, nuzzling into the crook of her neck as you tightened your hold around her waist, “I love you...” 

“I love you,” she called again with a soft lilt in her tone as her thumb traced circles at the side of your hip. 

A heavy blush was creeping up from your chest, your skin growing warm as you let out a shaky breath, “I love you...” 

“You okay?” 

“Uh-huh...” 

“Words, mama.” You huffed and she shook her head, “No, ma’am. Talk to me. You goin’ to sleep on me?” 

“No.” 

“No?” 

You shook your head against her, “Mh-mh.”

She just chuckled, rubbing your back with one hand as she cradled the back of your head with the other, pressing kisses into your hair, “Whatever you say, mama.”

Sevika’s pregnancy scares were probably a lot more than she realized, but with little actual knowledge of her body, and the compounding factor of probably the world’s most irregular cycle, she spent the majority of her tween, teen, and young adult years none the wiser to any of the times where her body was seemingly contemplating the creation of a child. 

Until it started. 

At first, it was just a random nausea spell here and there. 

Then the nausea grew constant, the smallest smells setting her off with this horrible gagging. 

And then she threw up. 

All she could think of was what she was supposed to do when her father found out. No, no... he couldn’t find out. 

Flashbacks of that day when she was 6 have been haunting her since the first day of nausea. The intensity all but doubled when she woke up running for the toilet. 

Terrified didn’t even begin to cover the amalgamation of emotions Sevika was feeling when she realized what was going on with her. 

She thrust herself into ‘working’. Unsure of how far along she was and unable to actually find out, she decided to swallow down her daily morning sickness whenever it cropped up if she could, and when she couldn’t, she was straight to the nearest toilet. 

That didn’t stop her father from finding out. 

Sevika was sat on the bathroom floor, groaning under her breath after being unable to force herself to swallow her vomit back down. She was too weak and out of it to scramble and get herself together. 

If it wasn’t bad enough that she’d thrown up- didn't even get the chance to flush the toilet yet- her lack of reaction to his presence only further incensed the already drunk and irate man that called himself her father. 

It was a shitshow. 

Sevika was hemmed up by the collar of her shirt, his fist shaking as he barked in her face, questioning if this was why she’d been ‘underperforming’ lately. Too stunned to speak and reeling from the sudden yanking up from the floor, she sputtered, dizzy with a pounding headache as she tried to form a response. 

The more she floundered to actually engage with him, the more angry and downright belligerent he became. 

As always, he didn’t see his daughter, shaking under his grip of her collar.

No, he saw the extra mouth he’d been having to feed.

He saw the reason his wife was dead. 

He saw red. 

By the time Sevika found her words to even begin attempting to answer his barrage of questions and demands, his fist was already connecting with her face, his grip on her shirt the only thing saving her from ending up sprawled on the bathroom floor. 

It was going to be a beating for the books.

You didn’t even realize it when she’d laid you down in the bed on the pillows, tucking you in, until she was sliding into bed next to you, wrapping her arms around you from behind with a kiss to the back of your shoulder, “Hm?”

She shook her head, reaching a hand into your robe to hold one of your breasts as another kiss was planted to the side of your neck, “Go to sleep, mama. I just had to go get out of my work clothes.”  

You let out a little groan, turning in her arms to nestle into her, your face tucked under her chin as you mumbled, “Hmmm... g’night.... love you...”  

With a little chuckle she pressed kisses into your hair, rubbing your lower back as she whispered against you, “Good night, my love. Sleep well.”  

You didn’t sleep very well at all.  

Along with the aches and random pains in weird places in your body- a tugging in your lower abdomen that also had a random stabbing along with it, back pain, an almost constant headache, and just a general discomfort and ache in your body- you also had this constant metal taste that was like having a mouthful of rusty change in your mouth at all times.

You were constantly waking up throughout the night from the discomfort, the violent urge to brush your teeth to purge your mouth of the vile metallic tang plaguing you. This, compounded with your incessant gagging, had you growing nauseous with the mere thought of your toothbrush starting to make you want to dry-heave.

You were presently standing over the sink, tears in your eyes as you tried to prepare yourself to gargle some mouthwash after having thrown up for about the fifth time since you woke up in the middle of the night.

Sevika, ever the stony sleeper, had no idea until she rolled over, finding your cold spot in the bed next to her. She groaned, calling out in a sleep-filled voice, “Baby, what’re you doin’? Come back so we can cuddle...”

You huffed, gripping onto the counter of the bathroom sink, fighting the urge to dry-heave again, “I’ll be back in a second....”

You could hear her trudging footsteps coming closer to the bathroom until she was coming up behind you, rubbing your back and pulling hair out of your face, concern and sleep both written on her features, “What’s wrong, baby?”  

“I just.... I’m fine, I’ll be fine,” you shook your head, pushing her hand away before grabbing the capful of mouthwash.  

“You can’t lie to me, dream girl. You’re crying, you’re pale... you look like shit and you’re supposed to be asleep right now. Talk to me.”  

“I’m in pain, gagging now has nausea with it, I just threw up, so now I gotta wash that out of my mouth, but that’s still not going to get rid of this fucking taste in my mouth and I just-”  

“Hey,” she moved to stand right in front of you, hands on your arms as she rubbed them to try and calm you back down, “Avalanche, you’re spiraling, dreamy. Take a deep breath with me and we’ll go sit down and talk, okay?”  

You nodded as you looked up at her, taking a shaky but somewhat deep breath along with her as she nodded along, continuing to rub your arms with her thumbs tracing circles.  

You let out a hiccup when you went to exhale and the second the tears started to brew again, she shook her head, “No, no, eyes on me... You’re safe... you’re okay, I promise. I’m here. You are okay, you’re doing so well, my love. Let’s try again, okay? Deep breaths.”  

It took a few more tries before you finally relaxed in her hold, wrapping your arms around her. She brought one hand up to play in your hair, the pads of her fingers rubbing your scalp as her claws on her mech hand trailed lightly up and down your back.  

She ended up taking you to the kitchen, sitting you down as she made you a glass of water with two and a half ice cubes- just the way you liked it after an episode like that, holding your free hand and kissing your knuckles and fingertips as you drank with your other hand.  

When you sat the glass down, she stepped between your legs, still stroking her thumb over the back of your knuckles, “Whenever you’re ready, we’ll talk. If you don’t wanna talk, we can go back to sleep. If you want a distraction, we can watch something, or I could read you something. Just let me know, okay?”  

You nodded, reaching up with your other arm for her to come closer. She pressed a kiss to your cheek before leaning into the embrace, wrapping you up in her arms. The two of you remained that way for a few quiet moments until you looked up at her with a sniffle, your chin on her chest, “Sev?”  

“Yes, dreamy?”  

“Can you read to me in bed?”  

“Absolutely, baby. Do you wanna stay with me while I grab a book or go get comfy?” You held onto her tighter and she nodded, stroking your hair, “Alright, I got you.” She moved so that she could give you a piggyback while she grabbed a book. She ran her finger over the titles, moving on to the next one when you let out a little ‘mh-mh’ sound at each one until giving a nod when she got to a book you wanted to hear.  

Once you were both back in bed, Sevika sat up against the headboard with you lying on your stomach between her legs curled up into her chest, she started reading the book, her voice still rather raspy from sleep. She held the book in one hand, her other one up at your face, stroking your cheek with the back of her fingers and only moving to flip the page.

Eventually, you closed your eyes, enjoying the vibrations of her voice in her chest beneath your head and the feel of her fingers on your face. Unconsciously, you took hold of her hand, fiddling with her fingers. She paused in her reading to check in, “You okay?”  

“My mouth feels empty,” you lamented softly, the traces of whining laced in your voice.  

She kissed your temple, “You’ve got my fingers, mama. Do you want me to keep reading?”  

Sevika was no stranger to your occasional bouts like this. You hadn’t had a panic attack like that in a while, but usually when you did, you came out of them feeling very subby, not saying much, and your oral fixation would kick up, usually leading you to say things like ‘my mouth feels empty’. 

You nodded in response to her question as you closed your eyes again, softly sucking and gnawing on her index finger. She smiled as your breathing evened out, setting the book aside as she pulled the covers over you both, allowing you to keep her finger before she picked the book back up.

A little groan left you as you took one more finger into your mouth, shifting atop her with your right arm wrapped around her. She shushed you softly, pressing a kiss to your hair, “I’m right here, dream girl... I’ll never let you go... promise...”

First, he punched.  

Blow after blow into her face.  

To this day, Sevika still has the slightest taste of blood that crops up in her mouth for no apparent reason from time to time.  

It was clear that he was just making himself angrier with each hit, the strikes growing more violent and frenzied the more he spoke, barking at her about bringing another unwanted mouth into the household, about how she was still going to have to work. How could she be so foolish as to allow something like this? Half of his yelling barely made any sense but one thing was clear- he was saying that she’d gotten pregnant on purpose, trying to get out of pulling her weight around here. 

His grip started to shake on her collar until he’d thrown her to the floor, too lazy to bend over and keep using his hands, so here came the infamous worker’s boots, smashing into her stomach and chest with seemingly reckless abandon- yet somehow still managing a concentration of kicks to her stomach. Sevika curled in on herself slightly, instinctively going to guard her stomach which left her chest open.  

There was a sick crunch with each kick there, blood bubbling up out of her mouth as her body was wracked with coughs, the blood spattering across the floor with each one. Her father stopped for a few moments, leaning against the wall to catch his breath as he wheezed. 

"You... are fuckin'.... pathetic..." he huffed, turning back around to prod her face with his foot. 

He spat down at her as she lay there, voice gruff as he all but growled, “Get the fuck up.”  

Sevika was already weak when he came in, having been throwing up essentially all morning before he'd come in to find her when he got home. It hurt to even breathe, ribs threatening to puncture her lungs with every shallow breath she managed, let alone for her to actually get up off the floor. 

She didn’t move.  

He gave her a shove with his foot, pushing her onto her back as his voice got louder, “Did you not hear me, bitch? Get the fuck up!”  

Tears brewed at the back of her eyes. She always says the back because she learned early on not to cry. He hated that almost more than he hated her. 

With a great amount of effort, she rolled onto her side, then her stomach before bracing her hands against the floor to push herself up, low grunts and huffs escaping her the whole way.  

She barely got a few inches off the floor before he used his foot once again to kick her, knocking her back down, “Get up.”  

It was getting harder to hold those tears.  

She wasn’t foolish enough to hope that actually ending up pregnant would change things. She never hoped for anything. But some subconscious part of her did. While she had no plans on keeping the child, not that her father would let her anyway, something deep within her secretly wanted to.  

Her arms were wobbly, weak as she started to push up again. Each time she started to get up as he was demanding, he’d kick up under her, right into her stomach.  

She knew what he was doing.  

She didn’t want to lose the baby.  

Not like this.  

But she couldn’t do anything.  

For years after his death, she berated herself for not killing him sooner.  

After all if she had...

To say you had a disgusting cocktail of things seemingly going wrong with you would’ve been an understatement. 

You were locked in an almost unending cycle of sorts. First, you’d feel so nauseous it was almost like you were seasick. Then you’d throw up, which meant you had to brush your teeth after, lest the unceasing metallic taste be joined by vomit, which meant more gagging and possible throwing up. Then to make you feel even worse, now your gums were bleeding. 

And there was the pains. 

Sevika could barely keep up, but she was doing her best. She went into work less often, explaining the situation to Silco. When she did go in, he kept her for shorter hours, having her back home to you before afternoon. 

You guys were still awaiting your now questionably late period when you called from the bathroom one morning, “Baby?” 

“Yes, mama?” 

“Can you bring me a liner from the closet?” 

“You dropped?” 

“I think?” 

She entered the room with a liner in one hand and fresh panties in the other, “You think?” 

“It’s never been this light before. It’s not spotting, but it’s not my usual first day either,” you explained, letting her see the red and brown that now stained the panties you were wearing initially before you tossed them across the bathroom and into the hamper, taking the fresh ones and the liner from her with a soft ‘thank you’ as you changed.

She leaned against the sink, clearly studying you, trying to rack her brain for any sort of explanation. 

“This just started?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Hm.” 

“What are you thinking about over there? I’m not dying, am I?” 

She looked at you like she could kill you before whatever this was did, “Don’t talk like that. I’m just trying to make sense of this. Perhaps we should visit your mom...” 

The last line was muttered more to herself, but you responded all the same. Your mother was a doctor. More than that, she was a pretty damn good one, and she specialized in childbirth and care. She’d helped numerous women through what could’ve otherwise been fatal pregnancies, not to mention you come from a very... fertile line of women. 

“Would that make you feel better if I did?” 

She nodded immediately, “Yes, please. If anyone will know what’s going on with you, it’s definitely her.” 

“You know that’s a six-day trip, right?” 

“Don’t care. I’ll work something out with Silco if need be, but I need to know what’s going on with my girl. Start packing when you get out of here, I’ll be back in 45, okay?” 

You huffed, grumbling to yourself, “Watch it just be somethin’ stupid."

“Nothing’s stupid when it comes to you, dream girl. Don’t make me fuck a reminder into you when I get back.” 

“You’re leavin’ without my kisses? Do y’even love me anymore,” you wailed dramatically. 

You could almost sense her playful eye-roll as you heard her steps clunking back toward your shared bedroom. She bent down to meet you as you placed the liner into your new panties, pressing two kisses to your lips, “Happy now?” 

“No,” you pouted, your bottom lip poked out as you looked up at her sadly. 

She stooped down to your level, face softening, “What’s wrong, my love?” 

“You only gave me two kisses....” you whined, dead serious. 

Her face fell and she pushed your knee, “Don’t scare me like that, I thought something was really wrong, dreamy. Mmmmwah, better?” 

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you as she planted a very audible kiss on your lips, nodding, “Yes, thank you. And insufficient kisses it very much serious business.” 

“Yeah, when it’s you depriving me, not the other way around. Hurry and get ready, okay? The sooner we figure out what’s going on with you, the better.” 

“I know, I know. I’ll be fine. Go talk your way into going with me,” you waved her on, getting up from the toilet as you flushed with one hand, turning the sink on with the other to wash your hands. 

She got maybe three steps away from the door before she was back in the bathroom, tugging your face to hers for a searing- almost teasing- kiss as she muttered before pulling away, “I love you, lock the doors and windows, I’ll be back soon, okay?” 

Despite already missing her presence with her standing right in front of you, you managed a smile, pecking her lips once more, “Hurry, Sevi. The longer it takes you to leave, the longer I have to be here by myself.” 

“Say it back first,” she mumbled against your lips, the two of you still trading kisses back and forth. 

You pressed a lengthier kiss to her lips, looking up at her with a whisper, “I love you...” 

She tilted her head to rest her forehead against yours, closing her eyes, “I’ll be back, okay?” 

“Sev-” 

“I’m fine. I’ll be back.” 

She quickly suppressed the brewing tears, heading to go ask Silco for some time off to make the trip.

Sevika spent that night on the bathroom floor, bloodied and bruised, still coughing up blood periodically as she cradled her stomach, praying to whoever was out there that she didn’t die on that floor. 

She didn’t die. 

Even more, neither did her baby. 

Sevika wasn’t excited. 

She wasn’t happy to be bringing this life into the world. 

Sevika was petrified about the mere idea of it all. 

If she kept the baby, there was the chance her father would kill the baby, or worse, the baby would end up being abused just as she was. She couldn’t have that happen. 

But did she truly want to give it away? 

If the baby was lucky, it would end up being sent topside to Piltover. It’d be safe there as much as she hated to think about her child ending up being a topsider. 

But more likely than not, the kid would end up just in the system. Sent off from home to home around the Lanes. Or even worse, the kid could end up being one of the many orphans on the street. 

Sevika didn’t know what she wanted. Or what she would do. 

To make matters worse, her father acted as if she weren’t even pregnant in the first place. 

She was still working, now having to do even more ‘work’ to make up for the “lackluster performance” from the week she first found out she was pregnant. She was also working at home again, something she hadn’t done much since she’d become an adult. 

It took months for her to begin showing, and by the time she had, it was almost as if her father intended for her to keep the baby. The physical abuse was now reduced to the occasional slap or hair snatch here and there, and though the verbal and emotional abuse intensified in its place, he’d begun seemingly making room for the new addition. 

He was by no means happy about the prospect of his daughter having a child. But the way he saw it, that was another worker to bring money in to fund his drinking, gambling, and other vices. 

The way Sevika saw it? She'd rather die than let her child go through the same things she did. Whether this was something she wanted or not, she knew that if she had to have this child, she’d protect it with her life.

It’s nowhere near the first time you’ve had to make this trip to see your mom. 6 days there, 6 days back. 

The majority of your journey is spent with your symptoms playing a twisted game of roulette, alternating between which ones will be your biggest issue that day. 

You’re a constant mess of tears, throwing up, gagging, whining, and for the life of you, you cannot stop peeing, only to end up releasing barely a trickle if even a few drops. 

You’re tired. 

Sevika is also tired. 

Your wife wasn’t much of a caregiver when the two of you met. She wasn’t the worst, but it was clear that she was still very much learning. By now she's got it pretty much mastered.

She’s been holding you through everything, offering up massages, cuddles, and her fingers whenever you’re starting to get too overwhelmed by all the different compounding symptoms of what’s looking more and more like a pregnancy. 

That’s when the nosebleeds started. 

You’ve never had a nosebleed before. Aside from getting your nose broken that one time, you’d only ever dealt with Sevika’s nosebleeds that she gets during the winter from her nostrils drying out. But you? Never had it happen. 

However, you knew what it meant. 

It ran in the family. Bloody noses and sensitive- sometimes bleeding- gums were some of the earliest pregnancy symptoms within your family. If you didn’t know based on your other symptoms, all other weird yet slightly common symptoms of pregnancy, you definitely knew now. 

You were both in your hotel room, the last stop before the final half-day stretch that would get you to your mother’s house, your back to her front as she trailed her fingers over your stomach, muttering affirmations and praises under her breath at how good you’d been holding up when you felt what you thought was your nose running. 

You reached up to swipe at your nose with a sniff, pulling your sleeve away to find red now smeared across it, “Oh no...” 

She sat up with you, eyes going wide, “Baby?” 

You held your nose, pinching the bottom of your nostrils as you cupped your other hand under your chin, holding your head forward while running to the bathroom. 

It’s not an overwhelming amount of blood. You’ve seen Sevika come home with much worse from particularly bloody brawls at The Last Drop for sure. But to your wife? You may as well be dying. 

Sev is right on your heels, a face towel in her hands already being run under some warm tap water as she pulls you in front of her, taking hold of your chin with her mech hand and assessing the situation as she cleans your face with the towel in her other one. 

“This isn’t normal.... d’you think we can leave tonight? Get a jump on some answers? I’m worried about you.” 

“Baby, it’s just a nosebleed. I won’t bleed out by morning. It’s not even bleeding anymore.” 

She shakes her head, turning your face side-to-side face for signs of any bruising or other things that may be outwardly wrong with you. When she finds none, she starts to gently prod at your nose with a finger, pushing against the bridge and around, “You don’t get it, dreamy. You don’t get nosebleeds. I get those like an orphan gets the cold and flu. Not you... I don’t know a single person in the Lanes who’s just never had a nosebleed like you... I’m scared.” 

While you were now very certain about being pregnant, you wanted to wait to tell her, so you simply took hold of her arms- standard panic protocol between the two of you- as you spoke gently, “Baby, there’s a lot of things going on with me that just aren’t normal for me, but that’s why we’re on this trip. We’ll get answers in the morning, okay? Breathe for me, deep breaths.” 

Sevika’s barrage of questions and worries fizzle out on her tongue as she locks in with you, mumbling a small, “Avalanche,” as she takes a deep breath in time with your own. 

“There we go, my love. What can I do for you to make you feel a bit better right now? If you wanna get back on the road, we can. Or we can go cuddle and I’ll braid your hair. Or we can watch our show. Whenever you’re ready, just let me know, okay?” 

She closed her eyes as she took a final breath, opening them once she blew it back out, “Can you braid my hair and we watch our show?” 

“Of course, baby. Come on, relax time. If my nose bleeds again tonight, we’ll get up and head on immediately.” 

The two of you ended up back in bed, Sevika’s head in your lap as you gave her a few braids to pull back into two little pigtails in place of her usual half pony, you guys’ show playing in the background of her giving you updates on the things she’s gotta do for Silco when you two return back home. 

“And then he was literally all whiny talking about how he needs me to come in at some point when we get back so I can go head up the factory and take stock.” 

You snickered, pulling a hair tie around her first little pigtail, “We need to get this man a calculator class or something. Oh, remind me it’s time for a trim when we get home, your undercut is practically long enough for me to braid it too.” 

She rolled her eyes, rolling over in your lap to face you so you could do the other side of her hair, “Oh hush, it’s not that long.” 

“Nah, I’m just being extra.” 

“I love you...” 

“I love you too.” 

She squeezed her eyes closed, gritting her teeth, “I love you...” 

You noticed the tense in her jaw, voice softening, “I love you more, baby.” 

“Avalanche,” she said meekly, fist gripping your shirt.

You set your comb aside, pulling her up and into your arms as you wrapped your legs around her, allowing her to bury her face in your chest. Slowly rocking side to side, you stroked her hair with one hand, holding her tightly with your other arm as you pressed kisses to her temple and along her hairline, “I got you, Vika.... I’ll never let you go.... never leave... You’re safe... I love you... I’m always going to love you... nothing you do will change that... We’ve been married for so long now... We’re planning babies... We’re still gonna get our homestead... And you can have your animals... I’ll have my fruits and veggies... Me ‘n you, baby...” 

You kept whispering little reassurances, reminding her about you guys’ life plan, the things the two of you have already accomplished together, the ones still to come, all while rocking her and playing in her hair. She was holding onto you for dear life. You’d been waiting for it to hit her again, knowing what time of year it was. 

When her breathing evened out and her grip on you relaxed just the tiniest bit, you pulled back slightly, cleaning the crust from her eyes with your shirt before pulling the article off, tossing it to the floor. You finished her cute little pigtails while she slept, pausing to press a kiss to her nose every time she started to stir a little bit. 

You watched a few more episodes of you guys’ show, making sure to put it back to where it was when she fell asleep before you relaxed as well, pulling the covers up over the two of you. 

With a final kiss to her nose, this one earning a soft smile in her sleep, you leaned your head against hers before following her to sleep, mumbling, “Sweet dreams, my love... You’re gonna be a great mother...”

Pregnancy was... well... 

Sevika wasn’t sure how to describe her pregnancy. She was in such a weird place after the initial day of her father finding out that she wasn’t sure what to make of anything. 

One moment, he was “caring” for her- which really just meant not beating the shit out of her and pimping her out- and the next he was either acting like she didn’t exist or, again, human punching bag. 

As far as symptoms, her vomiting didn’t last very long, took her maybe two weeks after that day for her to get a handle on forcing her morning sickness back down no matter what. 

She really didn’t get the chance to think about it much. Sure, she had aches and pains. Sure, she had cravings. Sure, she was in and out of bathrooms like it was nobody’s business. But, those were all just minor- trivial things that ranged from annoying to slightly inconvenient at times. 

The hard part was delivery. 

Sevika delivered her daughter herself. 

Alone, in a back alley, deep in the very heart of Zaun. 

Giving birth hurt more than anything she’d ever felt before and anything she’d ever feel after. 

Sevika didn’t know much about her body. 

Besides the hateful things spewed about it from her father, the lustful words from her “clients”, and the few things she’d managed to sneak and read back when she was younger, she actually didn’t know much about how her body worked, let alone pregnancy. 

But something seemed to come over her. 

It was as if suddenly she knew everything she needed to have her baby safely. 

Yes, she was giving birth in a dirty alleyway- the whole of Zaun was dirty, it was unavoidable- but even through the pain she was... calm. 

She wasn’t worried about someone finding her and interfering. She wasn’t worried about her father. 

All she cared about was making sure her baby made it out into this world. 

And she did it. 

With nothing but a lighter, a shoelace, a pocketknife, and some stolen whiskey, she delivered her baby. 

A girl. 

She always wanted to have a daughter when she was little. 

She told herself that she’d have a girl so she could give her all the love and care that her father never showed her. 

She named her Mieko. 

Sevika didn’t know who the father was before now. 

And even though Mieko was but a newborn, she knew. 

This baby belonged to her father.

The next morning was a rush. 

Sev wanted to get to your mom’s as soon as possible. She didn’t say anything about last night aside from asking if your nose had bled any more after she fell asleep, and you didn’t mention it either. 

But the cloud still hung. 

You noticed her fiddling with the two shell casings that hung from the same chain as her wedding ring. Every so often her hand would stray up to her neckline, fingers practically searching for the items that sat just beneath the fabric of her shirt. Each time you just gave her mech hand a little squeeze, kissing the back of it just the same as you would her flesh hand. 

She was thankful you didn’t pry. You never did, actually. Sure, you knew what the casings held within them, and even more you knew exactly what it meant when she started to play with them, but you didn’t bother her about it. You gave her breath and space to grieve in her own way, never pushing for answers, never making her feel weak for showing her sadness. It was one of the many reasons she loved you so much. 

Naturally, the somber mood slowly started to lift the closer the two of you got to your mother’s place of residence. You knew Sev was only mostly trying to distract herself, but you also knew how much she and your mother adored one another. 

Presently, she was still fiddling with that chain of hers, rubbing the casings between her fingers as she spoke, “D’you think she’ll try and keep us here if it turns out we’re just having a baby?” 

“As if you’d be opposed. The way you two act, people would swear I was the one who married in.” 

She chuckled, sticking her tongue out at you, “Don’t be mad at me because moms prefers me. I’m just that guy.” 

You rolled your eyes, playfully mushing her in the face, “Literally die. Don’t ever say some stupid shit like that again.” 

“Or what?” 

“No booty.”

“What?!” She cried incredulously, immediately on her knees, “C’mon, mama, you know I was just playing. ‘M sorry...” she trailed, looking up at you with puppy eyes. 

You couldn’t help the snicker that escaped you as you pulled her up by her chin, being sure to press your lips to hers when she got close enough before she was once again standing over you, “You gotta be nice to me, okay? I’m 65 percent sure mom wrote me out of her will to put you in it.” 

She rolled her eyes playfully before leaning down to kiss you once more, “Oh, please, even if she did you already know I’d just give it all to you anyway.” 

“True, true.” 

“You ready?” 

“Yeah, are you?” 

“Hell yeah. If you end up not being pregnant we’ll just try again when we get home... so long as you’re not dying or something.” 

“What if I was?” 

“Don’t make me beat your ass, dreamy.” 

You gasped dramatically, “You tryna eat my ass?!” 

“I most certainly would hope not.” 

The two of you immediately forgot about the little argument that was about to start as you both raced to get to your mom first from where she stood on her porch. 

“Mommy,” you exclaimed as you launched yourself into her arms. 

She let out a dramatized grunt as she wrapped you up in her embrace, squeezing you tightly, “I wish you’d have told me you were coming before I felt you. Would’ve made your favorites.” 

“Sorry, it was kind of an emergency.” 

Sevika cut in, tugging you out of the way, “Yeah, kinda like you hogging moms right now.” 

Your mother snickered, squeezing Sev just the same, “You two need to be nice and stop fighting over me all the time. You both know that I love you equally.” 

“But Sev’s not even-” 

“What did I just say, gummy?” 

You huffed, folding your arms as you grumbled under your breath, “I can’t stand either of you.” 

When the two finally released each other, your mother turned her attention back to you, raising a brow, “Sevi, baby, can you do me a favor?” 

“Anything, moms.” 

“Go to the garden and gather the vegetables I’ll need for stir fry, please. I’ll be in the kitchen after I finish with this one,” she requested, eyes never leaving you as she seemed to be scrutinizing you. Sev left with a kiss to your cheek and another to your mom’s temple before she practically skipped away into the garden like the overgrown kid she really was. 

“Do you have something you wanna tell me?” 

“What do you mean, ma?” 

“You’re choosing that card? Step into my office, gummy.” 

You bit your lip as you followed after her into her home office, fiddling with the hem of your hoodie, “I swear to you, I don’t think I’ve got anything worse than a cold-” 

“Sit down,” she instructs, not looking to play these games with you. You shut up immediately, sitting back as she takes your vitals, “Last period?” 

“9 weeks ago.” 

“6 weeks late, huh?” 

“I know what you’re thinking and-” 

“Did you know I’ve been dreaming about fish for a month now? Tiny little fish swimming around with tadpoles.” 

You looked up at her as she handed you a cup, “Seriously, ma? I’m literally your only gay child.” 

She raised a brow, “What does that have to do with me? Piss. I’m testing everyone, it hasn’t just been you.” 

“So you tested Ky?” 

“Sure did.” 

You rolled your eyes the moment your back was turned, a slipper promptly smacking you in the back of the head, “Ow! I didn’t even say anything.” 

“You rolled your eyes and you were grumbling in your head about me making your brother take a pregnancy test. Obviously, I tested his wife, genius.” 

You smacked, rubbing the back of your head, “I didn’t even-” she raised her other slipper and you promptly shut your mouth before grabbing her slipper from earlier, handing it back to her. “I started getting the nosebleeds,” you mumbled softly. 

She looked up from her clipboard, voice and eyes softer than before, “Dear, why you know-” 

“That it means I’m pregnant? Yeah... I know...” 

She set her things aside, wrapping her arms around you, “Oh my little girl... all grown up... about to have a little girl of her own.” 

You chuckled through the tears that had begun to fall, “We don’t even know if it’s a girl yet. Not even close to finding that out.” 

 She waved your argument away, rubbing your back, “Did you forget who your mother is?” 

You didn’t answer, holding her a little tighter. Your mom softened, voice quiet as she questioned, “What’s wrong, gummy?” 

“I’m scared...” 

“Of?” 

“All of it.... being a mom... having a kid in the heart of Zaun... what if... what if Sevika falls out of love with me? Or I fuck up and lose the baby somehow? Or-” 

“Excuse me? I know this isn’t how I raised you to think.” 

“I know, but-” 

“No buts. You’re scared of being a mom? Comes with the territory. You’re scared of having your kid in the heart of Zaun? Guess what, baby girl, that’s where my mom had me, and look at how I turned out. You think you’ll somehow breathe wrong and lose the baby, I already know because I know you- you won’t. I’ll check you two out properly before you guys go back home just to be sure everything is fine and in working order with you and your body and the baby.” 

“As for Sevika? Sweet girl, if you think that girl is going anywhere away from you, then you clearly have a lot of learning to do. She looks at you like you’re the very air she needs to breathe; as if you hung the sun, moon, and stars just for her. That girl loves you even more than I do, and you’re my baby,” she chimed, playfully pinching your cheek, “Make no mistake, there’s nothing that could make her fall out of love with you. Not this one. And by Janna, if she does- call me.” 

You chuckled through your tears, letting out a little sigh, “I got this?” 

She gave you a kiss to your forehead, “Yes, sweet girl. You’ve got this. And I’ll be here the whole time, okay? And you’ve got a wife that loves you... You’ll be okay. And if you ever want to move back up here at any time during your pregnancy or after, let me know. My door is always open, you know this.” 

“I know....” 

The two of you stood like that for a good while before you mumbled, “Mommy?” 

“Yes, gummy?” 

“Thank you.” 

She let out a soft sigh, shaking her head as she held you a little tighter, “Anything for my girl. I’ll keep the news to myself so you can tell my other daughter, alright?” 

“Thanks... I love you.” 

She planted an audible kiss to your forehead, “Of course, little one. I love you more. Now clean that pretty little face and get yourself together. I’ll tell your wife you’re using the bathroom while we get dinner going, okay?” 

You let out a happy little sigh, giving your mother one last good squeeze, “Thanks, mommy.” 

She gave your stomach a little pat before turning to leave, “Don’t take too long or you know she’ll come find you. Also, you have a cold, sit your ass on the couch when you come out and don’t you dare set foot in my kitchen, you hear?” 

“Yes, mommy. I’ll be out in a second.” 

The door closed behind her and you placed a hand on your stomach letting out a little breath, “Now I’ve gotta figure out how to tell your mom about you, angel.”

2 years. 

Sevika had been hiding her daughter from her father successfully for 2 years. 

She doesn’t know how he found her. She didn’t know then and, to this day, she doesn’t know now. 

She’d returned to her childhood home from a day of “work”, heart falling from her stomach as Mieko came tottering to her, wrapping around her leg. 

For the longest time, fear was the only word she could use to describe that day, but no... it was something more than that. Sevika wasn’t just afraid. She was horrified. Petrified even. 

How long had her daughter been alone with her father? How did he find her? How long had he known about her? Was this his first time coming into contact with her? 

A million questions and terrible scenarios ran through her mind, the soft pat of her daughter’s hand on her leg pulling her from the slow descent into panic. She couldn’t help but smile at her baby, picking her up and smothering her in kisses as the little girl dissolved into giggles. She could feel her father’s eyes watching her every move. 

“You take her to the back room.” His voice was gruff as always, words short and to the point. 

Sevika froze. She knew what was coming for her if she let go of her daughter and faced him alone. She didn’t move, arms clutching onto her child as her heart raced even faster than her thoughts. 

There had to be a way out of this. 

Her father hated repeating himself. His anger was palpable, a churning storm ready to roll through the house as he slammed his fist down, “Back room, now!” 

The loud noise and his elevated voice scared Mieko. She started crying. He hates crying. 

Sevika slowly backed toward the front door, holding a crying Mieko to her chest as she tried to quiet her. 

Wrong. 

Her father was in front of her in an instant, large hands reaching for Mieko. Sevika went to turn around, run back out the door, only to have her face smashed into it, her daughter torn from her arms by his other hand. He shook the crying child, screaming at her to shut up. 

Disoriented with blurry vision, Sevika stood on unsure feet, trying to reach for her daughter back. 

She felt that familiar tiny hand clutch her finger for the briefest of moments before a shot rang out. 

She saw red.

Sevika’s hand strayed to the shell casings around her neck frequently throughout dinner, her eyes misty and sort of far away. Your mother looked to you, wondering what was up with her daughter in law, but you waved off her concern, stroking your thumb over Sevika’s thigh in a show of silent comfort each time she withdrew from the conversation. 

After dinner was finished and the dishes had been put away, your mother left for bed with a kiss to each of your foreheads. You sat on the couch with your wife, rolling a cigar for her as she curled around you, her flesh hand at your stomach, tracing patterns over the bit of skin poking from beneath your top. 

You placed the ‘gar between your lips, lighting it before taking a hit and holding it out for your wife. 

She took it, not hitting it, but studying it before she took a hit, sighing upon her exhale of the smoke. 

“How are you feelin’,” you asked softly, playing with her semi-wavy hair that had been freed from the braids and pigtails you’d made the night prior. 

“Stressed... worried...” she trailed off, voice falling quieter as she passed the blunt back to you, “sad...” 

“Where do you wanna start?” 

She shrugged, unwrapping herself from around you to sit up beside you, “Dunno... it’s all just a lot right now...” 

You leaned your head on her shoulder, taking a couple more hits of the blunt before you passed it back to her, taking up interest in her mech hand as you started to fiddle with the metal, “Okay.... what’s got you stressed?” 

“Everything...” 

“But in particular at this moment?” 

She didn’t answer for a few moments, eyes clouding over again. You gave her mech hand a squeeze, whispering gently, “Hey...” 

“Hm?” 

“You keep leaving me... Talk to me...” 

“Is it possible to miss someone you’ve never met?” 

Her mom. 

You gave a small nod, “Entirely possible.” 

“It’s like.... this longing... But it’s more than that because how can you long for something you never truly had? Even worse to miss someone who... who’s not here anymore because of you...” 

Her last sentence was like a ghost, the words dissipating the moment they left her lips. 

“Sevi...” 

“It’s fine, I’m-” 

“No, you aren’t, baby... And you don’t have to be. It’s okay to not be okay... But I wish you’d stop faulting yourself for that...” 

She let out a sigh, holding the blunt out for you, “I know... Just.... can we talk about something else? Or just cuddle and smoke?” 

You nodded as you took another hit, “We can do that.” 

The silence that fell was comfortable, the two of you sharing the blunt back and forth until it was nothing but a roach left. You leaned to place it in the ashtray on the coffee table before moving to lay aginst Sev’s chest. 

Your body was buzzing. It had been a while since you last smoked and you felt that familiar sensation of both floating and sinking into your wife’s body as you lay atop her, her arms wrapped loosely around your waist, flesh hand trazing lazy patterns along your spine. 

You tilted your head slightly to look up at her, her eyes fixated on the ceiling, but not really- she was thinking. 

“You have such pretty eyes,” you whispered. 

Her grin was immediate as she moved her vision down to you, those silver orbs darkened in her high state, “You think so?” 

You nodded, curling further into her as you closed your own eyes, “So pretty... I hope the baby gets your eyes.”

Sevika is known for being a woman who revels in violence. 

The Scary lady of Zaun. 

She’s the one who kicks ass and takes names- no questions. 

But it wasn’t always like that. 

The shot flipped a switch in her. 

To be quite honest, she’s not sure what exactly killed him. 

Maybe it was her beating him. 

Maybe it was her bashing his skull into the wall. 

Maybe she’d broken his ribs with her kicks, punctured a lung or even better his heart. 

She didn’t know. 

But when the rage had settled and her father lie dead on the floor, she saw her little girl. 

She crumpled, those tears she’d been holding back for so long in her life ripped from her as she held her girl in her arms. 

Those tiny fingers wrapped around her pinky for the last time, matching silver orbs growing dim as Mieko took her final breath in her mother’s arms.

Sevika’s heart stopped in her chest as she froze beneath you. 

You sat up, looking down to find her eyes glossed over, a single tear escaping, “Sev?” 

Her eyes were wide, heart hammering away in her chest, threatening to burst from it as she just barely managed to speak, “You... you’re...” 

You took her hands, nodding as you whispered, “Yeah, baby... I’m pregnant.” 

You were holding back tears of your own. You’d only seen your wife cry once, and that was on your wedding day. Sevika crying was as rare as you getting a nosebleed. 

You cupped her face in your hands, wiping away her tears as they fell. She seemed frozen, eyes faraway again as she whispered feebly, “You...” 

Sevika didn’t know what to say. She had dreamed about this moment, played it out a million different ways in her head. She just knew she’d wrap you up in her arms, a mess of kisses and giggles. But now that it was here, the two of you under the light of the fire in your mom’s living room, she was stuck. 

Her eyes focused on you as you spoke, tears in your eyes, “Hey, come back to me? You okay?” 

No, she wasn’t okay. 

“You’re pregnant...” she whispered, still sounding like she didn’t believe it. 

You let out a soft chuckle, nodding as you leaned in to kiss a line down her nose, ending with her lips, “We made a baby, Sev...” 

There were stars in her eyes as she stared at you. She was never one for flowery language, she’d tried, but she always stumbled over her words or felt like she’d just come off cheesy. Her hands moved to your waist, thumbs stroking the sides of your stomach as she looked up at you, “We did...” 

“We’re gonna be parents...” 

“We are...” she whispered, her words thick as she blinked away a fresh batch of tears. 

You didn’t wipe them away this time. Instead, you pulled her closer, wrapping your arms around her as she tucked her face into the crook of your neck. If you felt her tears soak through your shirt, you didn’t say anything, fingers combing through her hair as you rocked softly. 

Sevika was swimming through her thoughts in her mind. She was petrified and ecstatic at the same time, but the fear seemed to overtake the happiness by an astounding wave, causing her to press further into you. You simply wrapped your arms tighter around her, pressing a kiss into her hair as you rubbed her back to keep her grounded. 

Her mind was running about a million miles a minute. Flashbacks of her own pregnancy, her labor and delivery in that cramped alley... the few moments of peace and happiness shared with her daughter.... Mieko’s eyes as the life leaked from them... 

Then she thought about you. The life the two of you have settled into together. The day that started all of this when the two of you decided to try for a baby. About all the shit you’ve had to put up with thus far and all the things to come. 

She pulled back to look at you, silver eyes glistening still in the lowlight, pupils blown as she found her voice, whispering under her breath, “Thank you...” 

Your eyes caught on your mother, a soft smile on your face as she mouthed, “I told you so.” 

🤎©️ All work belongs to sexysapphicshopowner. Do not use or repost my content in any way without my consent or permission. Thank you! 🤎

🤎 Taglist 🤎:

@certainlynotasimp @trafalgardvivi @love-sugarr @archangeldyke-all @fyeahnix

[coinlockerrbaby]

Guys Verlaine if he wasn't a loser and also was a magical girl from hit animanga series Madoka Magica 🙀🙀 (and also a gal :3)

get ready 4 my yapping (and better quality close-ups) below!!!!

Okay so in this AU them and Rimbaud r both 19!!!

Verlaine's wish was to bring Chuuya back after he went missing; Chuuya disappeared at 5 and was gone for two years before Kyuubey showed up.

In this Chuuya's 14 and came back @ 7 so Verlaine would've made their contract at 12!!! (They've been a magical girl 4 a hot minute)

They still keep a lot of the whole "I'm not human" edginess but this time it's over being a magical girl (bro did NOT react well to finding out abt the soul gem thing). Them nd Rimbaud have a bit of a better relationship than canon cuz Rimbaud's also a magical girl so Verlaine actually feels understood in this universe.

Story-wise they both were doin pretty good until an amount of circumstances led to them having to kill Walpurgisnacht on their own. While they did succeed, they both had completely used up all their magic and were gonna become witches </3

Rimbaud pulls a Madoka and sacrifices himself with their only grief seed :( Verlaine's forced to kill Rimbaud (or the witch that used 2 be Rimbaud el oh el) and it fucks him up a little :3

Verlaine's super devastated cuz bro lost the only person who understood them and they essentially gave up on living; so they decide to just start killing witches (and quite a few magical girls!!!!). It doesn't take long for them to transform into their own witch and get killed (probably by Chuuya nd Dazai) </3

OK DESIGN DETAILS!!!

Their weapon is a sniper rifle, it's magical so they can summon it but only one at a time so not like Mami's many revolvers!! It can shoot lil mini black holes and it's pretty fancy :3

Also close-up of the Soul Gem this took like 4 tries to look okay </3

Their outfit's pretty similar, I gave them like a huge coat that they don't rlly wear cuz it'd be so impractical in battles </3 also the design on their gloves and tights are supposed to mimic brutalisation :3

(also if u look real close they have heterochromia yippee!!!)

MY FAV PART THE WITCH FORM

The runes (hopefully) spell out Guivre cuz that's the name of Verlaine's witch form :3

I wanted to reference what's described in Stormbringer so the "tail" nd "head" are inspired by that tomfoolery!! It's also supposed to mimic a dragon with butterfly wings instead of normal wings (idk why i drew butterfly wings they're just fun ig) and it also has horns :3

The lil halo thing in the back's supposed to look divine in a way????? also it just looks cool

meow

Im gonna draw Rimbaud in the future but 4 now I'm done yapping thanks 4 reading this :3

ALSO this started like 2 years ago when Pinterest did this!!!

and then my wife drew the first iteration of magical girl verlaine...

:3

[upslapmeal]

The Devil's Chord

For context going into this episode, I can name off the top of my head.....3 Beatles songs? idk I'd probably recognise more but I was v much hoping this episode didn't hinge on having any actual emotional attachment to them lol

that kid is excellently cast, really looks the part

RIP Henry your great casting was cut short too soon

very chaotic vibes from Maestro!

the theme on the piano!!

the theme on the jukebox!!

‘I want to see the Beatles’ followed by the most cute serious face <3

sure Doctor you've never been to see them but you've had the space time visualiser!

lmao Ruby and Fifteen are so much fun

pure vibes and here for a good time!

1963!!

meanwhile One is busy kidnapping Ian and Babs lol

so. gonna guess from their faces it’s not an actual Beatles song

poor Fifteen dying at the orchestra and Ruby just 😐😐 *pat on the back*

hey it’s that lady again!

do these people look like the Beatles? I feel like they don't but again. I don't really know what they did look like

so my question with all this is.. why still make music if music isn't a thing any more?

why are the Beatles formed as a group and recording with someone encouraging them in the control room?

why even set up a recording studio at all?? I guess it speaks to the underlying human-ness of music

that even when musicality is gone, people are still forcing themselves to make some sort of music

yeah I feel like I should care more about the Beatles lol

Lennon and McCartney just. immediately baring their souls

feels weird watching this and knowing it's about someone who's still alive

'GEGGC'....ah ~~music~~

'we had bad smog in November ’62' I love how the Doctor speaks like a reminiscing Londoner bc that's what he was!!

Susan mention red alert!!!

‘timelords were murdered. :D I’M FINE’ sure

Ruby's theme!

interesting that in-universe it’s music she wrote for someone else

the giggle!!

‘you never hide’ I get that Fifteen and Ruby were instant besties but she's speaking like someone who's known the Doctor way longer than 3 adventures

the sonic screwdriver being sonic!!

RIP piano granny

‘defeating him took everything*’ * catching a ball

‘you always know’ idk if it's a symptom of the reduced episode count but it does feel like they've skipped over a fair bit of Ruby and Fifteen getting to know each other

‘I was born in 2004’ 👵🏻

oh so it’s been 6 months since the last ep??

again I guess the reduced ep count has meant speeding through but :/

‘where’s my mum’ :(((

I like the un-music that Murray Gold has going on for this bit. v effective.

child of the Toymaker??

‘now time for my ppt presentation about nuclear winter’

'the lost chord' - I feel like they could have done a lil bit more with that at the start bc it didn't feel as though the guy played anything particularly unusual or special?

lol Fifteen kissing the tardis better. I mean it seemed to work

the Doctor leaving Actual Musician Ruby Sunday in the control room while he tries to play a guitar

‘I thought that was non-diegetic’ lmao I guess it makes sense that the whole episode's music is being messed with

‘there’s a hidden song deep inside her soul’ hmmmm

...secret evil power Ruby??

excellent visual of her held up by the music in the snow

they're lucky Maestro doesn't seem interested in just. killing them.

‘music battle’ this is so weird. not sure if it's weird in a way I'm enjoying

this ep has felt a bit....meandering isn't the word but I don't know what is

lmao the nostalgic voiceover…not-Lennon totally unfazed by magical floating notes...reading them even though they absolutely cannot be read because there’s no stave

danse macabre!

it’s just so funny that it's the most boring-ass chord that defeats Maestro

the thing is the ep did v little to establish these guys as Characters To Root For outside them being Beatles and I just. don't care

I'd be interested to know if Beatles fans felt more about them saving the day

musical number!!

that shot of Fifteen vibing in the spotlight is so much fun!

and the one of him and everyone in the control room watching Ruby!

the world has been deprived of music for so long that of course it explodes into a musical number!!

and a certain Mr H Arbinger returns…I imagine that's not the last we'll see of him

what a fun end lol

I dunno about this one, it had good stuff but some of it was a bit all over the place and weird in a way that I didn't enjoy that much. And some of the music-specific stuff just idk. didn't land.

Also I rewatched the ep before editing my notes but I watched it as ep4 which honestly made Fifteen and Ruby's dynamic seem less rushed (and then there wasn't the weirdness in Boom of Ruby not going to a planet for the first 6 months of travelling).

I don't know. Mixed bag this one.

[angelcake-69]

I made my own undertale au!!

In this au (I don't have a name for it yet), Frisk isn't the last human to fall into the underground. They do end up falling, but they're right before the last one. Frisk also doesn't have a soul of determination. Instead, they have a soul of integrity. The actual last human to fall is a teen named Odette. She has the soul of determination. And in this au, Frisk and Odette are related, when their family found out Frisk was missing (they went missing after they fell into the underground) they all searched for them. Odette had a suspicion that Frisk had gone to the mountain as Frisk had mentioned it a bit. And Odette found herself falling into the underground while there, she was told by toriel that Frisk had been killed by a monster in Snowdin, Odette felt deeply angered by this, and she killed all the monsters ruthlessly.

Due to her unstable mental health, Odette ended up resetting and killing them over and over again until their universe couldn't take it anymore and began to collapse in on itself.

Odette keeps things from the monsters she's killed like Undynes spear, Papyrus' scarf, Sans' jacket, and other things.

(I'm still not fully finished with the story for this au, but that's all the basics. Odette does suffer from bipolar disorder and is prone to violence.)

(The only beings that escaped their collapsing au were Sans, Flowey, and Odette. Sans and Flowey were saved by the star sanses (technically only Sans was, but Flowey made his way into Sans' pocket and was therefore saved aswell.) And Odette was somehow glitched out of their universe. Sans is stuck looking like he did when he dies, and his eye that has the blue doesn't work anymore)

Anyway! Silly lil doodle!! XP

This is Sans and Flowey (obviously). I'll post an Odette drawing if enough people are interested

(enough meaning like 1 person lmao)

[ecivons]

Zosan/Sanzo Fic list

I just wanted to make a list of the fics I've read/Fic recommendations for anyone out there. The ones in bold purple are my absolute favorites. (A lot have M/E ratings and Adult language)

Falling by sorrowfulcheese - The dialogue.. the pacing.. THE CRUST I loved it all. One of the first zs fics haha, it's only tag is fluff. It barely feels like fluff fluff, this is just Zosans personal brand of fluff.

Liquid Courage by sabershadowkat (E) - Sanji experiences drunk Zoro once and keeps trying to sleep with him. (!! some dubious consent the first time). The last line is what got me.

[I saved a lot of shadowsaberkat works, just scroll through their entire account if you're okay with M+ fics]

Alongside All The Way by sabershadowkat (E) - I liked the Adventures going on in the background of the fic. Sort of a compilation of Zoro and Sanji becoming more and more important to eachother

Bit by Bit by sabershadowkat - Getting together type beat. A few moments of Zoro slowly dealing with his emotions for Sanji.

Falling Blossoms by sabershadowkat - I'm usually picky about established but I love the way they write <3. It's short and sweet. Just a lil Zosan date.

Things Unsaid (E) - Established Relationship. Zoro gets injured and they're forced to wait out a snow storm while working through their relationship. (I love this person's characterization of them wayy too much)

Rules of Love (E) - It’s one of those fics.. (conflict, sex, resolution) just the way I like my Zosan. A little internalized homophobia on Sanji's part.

when you say by bluewalk - Unrequited Usosan. Zosan from the perspective of a pining Usopp. (Beautiful, a bit confusing but I loved reading it)

tricks out of your sleeves by bluewalk - Zoro and Sanji are forced to learn a few things about each other's past. IMO it's written pretty gen. I love the character exploration.

Myalgia by Salmon_Pink - An exploration of how Zoro and Sanji talk about thriller bark (they don’t). They used the mood prompt so well the tension was welling up in my chest the entire time.

Understandable by Salmon_Pink (M) - Another short fic by Salmon Pink because they write the two of them amazingly. Zoro and Sanji who will never be emotionally vulnerable with each other out loud.

destructivity is a poison that runs through our veins by wasteofmind (M.. its E to me) - They want to kill each other.

Residue of a Rainbow by Narcissistic_Ninny (E) - Zoro and Sanji go through a traumatic experience and maybe fall in love too. This person has amazing fics, but this is definitely my favorite. Zoro is good at hiding what he's thinking but you just know..

green with envy blues by adietxt - Really short fic with jealous Zoro. I saved it mainly because the narration is a little funny.

it's a long way forward by donutsandcoffee - Sanji can't smile because of a devil fruit. The strawhats love his smile..

you got that something by adietxt - Sanji is forced to stick to Zoro. Nothing but a bundle of fluff and self-indulgence that I enjoyed all the same.

(failed) Stewardship by LibbyLune - Soulmate AU. Sanji's has been dead for a long time. Author has such an amazing take on soulmates I love it. I love Luffy's especially. P.S. The authors note at the end made me fall to my knees.

the universe told me by rudimentaryflair - Soulmate AU. Zoro desperately hides his soul mark while learning about his nakama's. I like how its almost the opposite of how Zoro and Sanji were portrayed in the previous fic I recommended (when it comes to their opinions on soulmates). I love both though.

blood, salt and idiocy by rosie_peverell - Zoro gets a taste of his own medicine. (Sanji gets injured trying to save him). It's short and cute.

and then the sun came out by demonzoro (shrinewreck) - Takes place in pre-ts, post-ts and future. Zosan realizing they're "friends". Extremely Tender idk what to tell you.

a catalog of non-definitive acts by demonzoro (shrinewreck) - Zoro pines. Nothing I say could possibly convey the emotions this fic makes me feel. You just need to give it a read I promise.

for poor and poorer still by rudimentaryflair - Modern AU. Short and sweet. Zoro finally finds the perfect moment to propose.

how normal people do by rudimentaryflair - Namivivi Pov. This is so funny. I love the best friend drinking buddy dynamic of Nami and Zoro. This fic has funny moments that I remember in public and start laughing to myself about.

paging mr. swordsman by rosie_peverell - If I had a nickel for every Modern AU Zosan ficlet that takes place in a grocery store..

The Fall of a Hundred Things by LibbyLune - Sanji sleeps with Zoro after a party one night and it messes him up. Franky is the MVP of this fic. I love him. (Check out author for more good works)

End On A High Note by thisislegit - Modern AU. Established Sanji and Zoro have problems they need to talk about. (Oh how I love the ups and downs of a mundanely domestic relationship)

In Your Warm Embrace by marimoliciousness - Sanji is an idiot and realizes something about Zoro (himself). They get caught in a snowstorm.

migratory animals by donutsandcoffee - Sanji is strong in a way that fascinates Zoro

that's all for now!! I might consider adding more in the future.

[hinacu-arts]

Tags That Made Me Smile 2023 — Part 1 (Jan-June)

Ive collected so many of my "Tags That Made Me Smile List" that i wont be posting it annually this year, its going to be at least biannually (although a good portion of this list is actually random comments in the author notes/lines and not tags 🤣)

[2022's List] [2021's List]

.

Not Fandom Specific

if they seem ooc at times (to YOU) just ignore it... i know Them

“It’s impossible to figure out comic book timelines” - people who are not me and who I cannot relate to

im ace but i tried my damnest to emulate allo behaviour

canon is nothing more than the sandbox in which I choose to build my castle

Not canon, not fanon, but some other third thing (my love for extravagant world building)

fan fiction vs foe fiction

bro we are teens its ok to be vunerable in front of me #now we are kissing bro dont stop

They have my mind on fucking speed dial i stg

intentional miscommunication in the name of fuckery

Cheesy romance taken seriously

The universe frantically consults the rule book while fate runs off with their action figures

getting a toddler dumped on you by your ex’s ex

“I’m not dying without kissing you” #And then they don’t die #And It’s all quite awkward

"Now if you'll excuse me… Tonight's bad decision isn't going to make itself."

“What’s a ‘boyfriend’? And why am I yours?”

“It has come to my attention that you are, unfortunately, my favorite person on this planet.”

i’m staring at the ceiling fighting the urge to kick you -a love story

Accidental Soul-Bonding oops

Enemy to Caretaker

Wooing via Prank War

Allegedly Platonic Kissing

Fandom Specific

These are ordered by the chronological order of which fandom i was reading at the time

Wednesday

werewolves mate for life

The Gomezification of Wednesday Addams

Legend of Zelda

Hi my name is Link and Welcome to Jackass

Link and Sidon both get a little bit gay: The Chapter

Gerudo Vai Outfit shenanigans

DC x Danny Phantom

Danny is the Tom Bombadil of Superheroes

Jack Fenton’s ability to casually Cool-Aid-Man his way through walls is a symptom of ectoplasm exposure

Skulker, No Skulking!

Danger Twink!Danny Fenton

Red Hood: Civilian Edition

inception—magic school bus version

a guy on staff so adorable it triggers Jason’s fight or flight response

Jason gets diagnosed with "bro your ectoplasm is fucked up" disease

Inspired by Hallmark Christmas Movies #But make it Halloween #where Tim Drake finds out the true meaning of love and Halloween #a true Rom-Com that's just a lil spooky

keeps the Hallmark themes of anti-capitalism #Vlad is the capitalism

pit is gone #raging anger has been replaced with raging hormones

All the (pit) rage he felt at the Joker for killing him is now being redirected and funneled into admiration/gratitude for the guy who did kill Joker

What is a murderer, a maker of ghosts, to the king of ghosts, but a faithful servant?

“Hood, your boyfriend's haunted!”

batman looked at gotham and said "i can fix her" #gotham looked at batman and said "i can make him worse"

Various DC Media

DC stands for Disregard Canon

Pining batman? more like Down Badman

Fortress of Sulkitude

Hurricane Dick and smaller Tropical Storm Damian

Tim finds his missing spleen #:)

just two dudes chillin' in a sleeping bag zero feet apart because Bart stole the other one

Kon's jacket #(it's made from boyfriend material)

Batfam? Bat colony? #how exactly do you to refer to the fascinating taxon that is Tim's family

Breaking the laws of Nature with sheer fucking will and bullshit circumstance (Time and Dimension Travel)

"Ha! Ive been sleeping in his bed for years, i no longer register as a threat"

Let it not be said that Bruce Wayne is a coward. A fool, perhaps, but never a coward.

"This is not very slay of you Tim" Bruce said

[jlhynde-insanitybrilliance]

I have yet another Fic idea that’s been bouncing around in my funny lil noggin for months! Yay! I call it my Stuck in the Middle AU (working title).

 Premise: Master of Death Harry unsatisfied with the role forced on him in the afterlife, endeavors to recruit an disembodied soul from a Universe where the entirety of HARRY POTTER is nothing more than a fictional story for children to help him destroy the 3 Hallows before they could ever come into his hands. He finds such a soul through happenstance & makes a deal, to allow that soul to return to their life they just left if they help him destroy the Hallows to which they agree.

The catch: Because Harry’s only enjoyment in the afterlife is messing with one Tom Marvolo Riddle, the vessel he chooses to house this soul is none other than the recently deceased Myrtle Warren, killed by none other TMR himself.

This entire fic is told from the soul’s pov as they struggle with being stuck in the middle of the most bizarre form of purgatory.

Snippet #1:

Abraxas Malfoy (outta breath & rushing into the Slytherin common room): SHE’S ALIVE!!!

TMR: Who’s alive?

Abraxas: WARREN!

TMR: What?!

Snippet #2:

Albus Dumbledore: Do you remember what happened to you, Myrtle?

Not Myrtle: Who the fuck is Myrtle?

Prof. Dumbledore: You are.

Not Myrtle: No I’m—(pauses suddenly seeing MOD Harry shaking his head)—Where am I?

Prof. Dumbledore: Hogwarts.

Not Myrtle (laughing): Oh sure…What’s next you’re gonna tell me you’re Albus Dumbledore?

Prof. Dumbledore: …I am.

*MOD Harry face palming*

Snippet # 3:

Not Myrtle (to themself): This a post 2020 world, yeah this might as well just happen…

Snippet # 4:

Cygnus Black (talking about Myrtle): Word is she has amnesia. Doesn’t remember who or what attacked her.

Tom: Good. Let’s ensure we keep it that way.

Cygnus: Though I’ve heard she’s been a bit off.

Tom: How so?

Cygnus: She’s been talking to herself incoherently.

Tom: Incoherently?

Cygnus: Just what Hornby tells me. They think she’s made up her own language or something. Sounds like she’s gone mad. Even if she did remember, I doubt anyone would believe her.

Tom: Prof. Dumbledore would.

Snippet #5:

MOD Harry: You do realize, you’re the only one who can see me? Everyone else thinks you’ve gone mad babbling to yourself.

Not Myrtle: What?! And you only tell me this now?! I’ve been here for days!

MOD Harry: I thought it was obvious. Do you see anyone else addressing me? And I’ll also inform you that when you speak to me, you don’t speak in English…

Not Myrtle: Then what the hell am I speaking?!

MOD Harry: The language of the dead.

Not Myrtle: Is that why people keep looking at me like I’m crazy?!

MOD Harry: Oh definitely. Most of them think you’re possessed.

Not Myrtle: …isn’t that technically true?

MOD Harry: Sort of. You’re the possessor, not the possessee.

Snippet #6:

Not Myrtle (to MOD Harry): Look I didn’t ask to be put in the middle of whatever dick measuring contest you have going on with a teenage boy!

And I think that’s all the dialogue snippets I have for now. But if I think of more I’ll post ‘em.

[californiaispurple]

I'm sure someone on here has already said this but.

the thing that creeped me out the most about spamton's encounter was his active acknowledgment of Kris' soul.

Obviously, the absence of music leading up to the scene and glitchy-ish dialogue all add to the 'hm there's something a lil funky bout this guy and not in the good way' feeling-

But (and correct me if i'm wrong) the only time the soul was ever mentioned beforehand was during ralsei's tutorial, and then never again.

In Undertale, it was all about 'ohoho human i'm gonna steal your soul!' and 'i shall defeat you and absorb your soul!' all the time every second every major battle 24/7 steal ya kids.

In Deltarune? It's been 'kill the lightners' and 'lightners must pay for their sins' and 'perhaps turn them into my minions and maybe even Robotify Their Face'

It's always been as a collective that we were threatened, and it was threats to our party as a whole that we dealth with.

However, when we're [Alone on a Dark Night]? And this strange glitchy creature comes out with his weird spam-email-reminiscent dialogue, but little quirks like these are par for the course in Deltarune characters-

Until he mentions taking our soul. Something about freedom, something about the 'light'.

And we sit up because huh. That hasn't happened before. That hasn't happened for a long time.

And suddenly this battle feels a bit more real, a bit off, because he wants our soul. Specifically Kris' soul, and yes we've been through this song and dance before, but never here. Not in this game, not in this universe, not in this same-slightly-off life. We realize this only in the face of deviation.

It's not the same, of course. (Light? What is this light? Do you want power? Do you desire determination? Is light determination? Whom are you bound by? What level of meta are we dealing here?)

But it's close enough to tense, to jostle the edge of it all.

And you really, actually, crushingly start to wonder--

how different is it here?

(Annddd putting it under the cut since this got way too long.

Underneath: a short ramble/recounting about preconceived notions from Undertale that I subconsciously carried over to Deltarune, and trying to challenge them.

Or, I talk about things that people probably figured out a long time ago.

Or, the status of magic, the difference between humans and monsters, and Toilet Theory.)

(Fair warning, I didn't research about any of these topics before writing it down. There is probably a lot of information I'm missing/misremembering due to the fact I was just pulling it out of my brain as I went. This post is sponsored by the brainrot, so expect incoherentness here and there.)

SOULs & MAGIC

In Undertale, the concept of absorbing Human SOULs is introduced to the player in Waterfall, only mentioned briefly in passing before. The culmination of our being, persists after death, allegedly holds our compassion and hopes and dreams, the monster that arises from a being with both a human and monster soul, all that jazz.

The menu that Kris has in the town is the same as the normal Undertale menu, while the Dark World menu is completely different. Is this meant say that the Light World is more comparable to the Underground than the Dark World? Maybe.

The SOULs book in the town library spouts the same things as Ralsei in regards to the nature of the SOUL. It only notes that nobody really knows the true inner workings of the SOUL. Nothing about human souls, or if they're even stronger than monster souls.

Magic may not even be present in the Deltarune Light World. Toriel indicates, by both dialogue and flavor text, that she uses the oven to bake as opposed to fire magic. There aren't any nudge-and-wink allusions to bullet patterns or magical spears when you explore the town.

In the room that Kris is taken to after being captured by Queen, they have a 'how to do magic' book. When I first saw that scene, I thought it was cute that maybe Kris saw one of their family members doing magic and wanted to be just the same, but couldn't since they were human. Thinking about it more though, I couldn't recall any mentions of magic in the Light world before.

Now that I think about it, Darkners having SOULs hasn't been implied in any way either. While we can assume Light World monsters have souls due to the town library having a book on it, nobody ever mentions anything in regards to a Darkner soul.

(... Ah. So, I just looked up No-Mercy runs of Deltarune, and like... I've only ever played pacifist routes before, right? They run away, huh. I was expecting dust... which I suppose is what this list is for.)

Kris' soul has the power to 'shine their light' on others, and their soul is what pops up when Susie fights Lancer. You can see it fly in from the upper right during battle. Kris also has the power to seal dark fountains-- and apparently only Kris can seal the dark fountains. Is it because they're human? Why can't Susie do it?

When Queen mentioned DETERMINATION, I was very, very interested. How it's used to make Dark Fountains, and how it appears that all Lightners can utilize the power of DETERMINATION. It takes DETERMINATION to make a dark fountain, I think, but does it take determination to close it? It can't just be about determination though-- it's something about Kris' soul specifically. Is it because they're human? Is it because of Player Intervention?

I cannot remember if, in Undertale, Undyne was able to get her DETERMINATION upgrade due to Alphys' help, but I think that's how it went?? You probably already know about UT DT and the goopy lil Amalgamates.

So, could you recreate Amalgamates within the parameters of the Deltarune universe? The monsters melt when injected with DT due to their body being made of magic and dust. Is Falling Down still a thing in Deltarune? Rudy fell down in the UT universe, I believe, so is the same thing happening here?

Monsters who fell down in Undertale can be found in the Deltarune cemetery.

(another thing: on the crystal's grave, there's something at the foot of it which I think is some kind of flower? The brown part looks vaguely stem-shaped. Suspect that either the Snowdrake in our class or his dad at the apartments left it there. Sad, but sweet.)

Right around here, I realized I've subconsciously accepted that monsters turn to dust in Deltarune as well. But, honestly, how do I know that?

Looking to these gravestones, though, that fact may still hold true for Deltarune.

From left to right, the inscriptions are:

GERSON, RENOWNED HISTORIAN, AUTHOR, AND TEACHER

CRYSTAL, A SNOWY GEMSTONE FOR A PROUD MOTHER

MUTTLER, A BIG BONE FOR THE LEADER OF THE PACK

SHYRA, A KARAOKE MICROPHONE FOR A BRAVE SINGER

With the exception of Gerson, each grave has a special item, including a corresponding image. As you may know, in Undertale there's a practice of spreading a monster's dust over their prized possession when they die.

"(It’s a school report about monster funerals.)

"Monster funerals, technically speaking, are cool as heck. When monsters get old and kick the bucket, they turn into dust. At funerals, we take that dust and spread it on that person’s favorite thing. Then their essence will live on in that thing... Uhhh, am I at the page minimum yet? I’m kinda sick of writing this.""

Taking that into consideration, it might be reasonable to infer that the same practice happens in Deltarune. Why else would they call special attention to these objects? As such, this would imply that Deltarune monsters dust when they die as well.

Of course, this could just be a cheeky wink alluding to the idea of that Undertale practice, but is not Actually A Thing in the Deltarune world.

Other misc. questions: Do human souls persist after death? Are boss monsters still a concept? If so, do their souls persist after death as well? Can you absorb souls in the Light World? Can you absorb souls in the Dark World? Do Humans, Monsters, and Darkners all have inherently different souls?

HUMANS & MONSTERS

Humans and Monsters living in harmony is another point of interest. That peace presumably extends further than HomeTown as the library possessing a published book on 'How to Take Care of Humans'. Kris seems to be discomforted by the sight or existence of other humans, closing the book once they glimpse photos of said subject.

As for humans' place in society, everyone seems to treat Kris pretty normally. There's not really any malice/fear being directed toward them on account of being human. And, obviously, no allusion to any the Great War Between Humans and Monsters.

There are still things like 'humans under the bed' (which is a riff off of the monster variation, but still is something) and that aforementioned book needing to exist in the first place. The young bunny in the window at the brick apartments saying we're the 'human who lives on the hill'.

There is a very, very slight sense of otherness on account of Kris' human status. However, that's largely eclipsed by them being excluded because they are, as once said by a Great skeleton, a Frickin Weirdo.

(I mean this with love, by the way, go steal that pie and terrorize your childhood friend, Kris. )

Anyhow, that means their behavior/demeanor is the main thing that makes them 'different'. They're called a weenie just as much as any monster. Having Toriel/Asgore as parents affect the way that other people interact with them more than being human. No 'human culture' vs 'monster culture' at all, perhaps because it's all one in the same. Not even any comments about a Weird Difference Between Human/Monster Biology.

This game isn't about humans and monsters-- it's about Lightners and Darkners.

But the fact that Kris is a human while everyone else is a monster is a little strange. Why isn't Kris considered just another kind of monster? Why is 'human' an 'other'?

In Undertale, humans and monsters had both physical differences and a long, tension-filled history between them that would warrant such a degree of separation.

Monsters have weaker souls, wield magic, and are made of magic/dust. Humans are much stronger, made of water, and are much more similar to each other than the Monsters. The blue books in the Snowdin Libarby also imply that humans cannot use magic, "they will never know the joy of a bullet-pattern birthday card..".

(Frisk as a character may technically have 'magic', resets and saves and all that, but it's a little wobbly and you could consider that 'magic' just being the player's intervention. Stranger still is the fact that monsters were sealed by a 'magic spell', but who knows what's going on there.)

Aside from these physical differences, there also seems to be an equal amount of total monsters and to an equal amount of total humans in UT. All the Snowdrakes + Snowcaps + Vulcans + etc etc all add up to a group called 'Monsters' that equal the amount of 'Humans'. Or, that is how it seems to be portrayed, but still might yet be another assumption by me.

If it is true that there's an equal amount of monsters/humans, it does make sense for humans to want to stick to their own while monsters do the same. Because these humans stuck to people so like them, they might begin to fear the unpredictability of the monsters. Monsters have to get used to different types of monsters and attacks and patterns and quirks that I imagine they're pretty adaptable.

Back to Deltarune, what could be the reasons that separate 'Human' and 'Monster?'

It could go back to physical differences once again, and is likely the most prominent reason. As stated before though, the status of magic is ??? in the Lightworld. Monsters seem to still be made of dust, but is magic what's holding them together? Are Light World monsters still made of 'magic'? The concept of a SOUL is alive in Deltarune, which sorta leans into magic still being a thing in the Deltarune Light World. If so, then why does no one use magic? Are there laws on it or something? Have the Light World monsters forgotten how?

Could the separation between humans and monsters come from the 'there's an equal amount of total humans and equal amount of total monsters' theory? Since both groups form their own individuality over time, that may cause the distance between 'human' and 'monster'.

Or, was there a war to cause hosility between the two groups? A battle? Could this be a world where the war of Humans vs Monsters went differently? A different conflict entirely?

If so, do you think the Darkners were just watching from the back like <_< >_>

And don't get me started about Darkners, they are STRANGE they do not DUST (but do freeze) and run away. Would the Darkners play meditator to, at least what they perceive as, a Lightner civil war if they had to? Could the Darkners be the reason there isn't any war?

... What is up with Darkner magic??? What are darkners even made of?? Why do they turn into objects in the Light World?? Why is it their duty to 'serve'?? Why are Darkners aware of Lightners, but Lightners not aware of Darkners?? We know that Lightners aren't aware of Darkners, as Undyne seems be amused at the idea of a 'Dark World' in the school.

Speaking of differences. There's a toilet in Kris' house.

...I know, weird point of contention.

BUT OKAY YOU REMEMBER THIS RIGHT

TOILET THEORY & FOOD

(Do I just want an excuse to call something 'Toilet Theory'?

... Maybe.)

Now, I KNOW Monster Food has been heavily theorized in the past, though I don't remember any particular posters. As a result, my conceptualization of monster food and the lines of logic that I follow are a result of these half-buried, half-remembered 2016 memories. Highly recommend searching more through posts about it though!

In Undertale, a lot of monster food is most often assumed to be made of magic in lieu of the whole non-digesting thing and many monsters having food-based attacks (i.e vegetoid). I'm sure there are other reasons for this headcanon, and it could be directly confirmed for all I know. Aside from special cases, monsters cook/bake their food. Toriel baking the pie, Mettaton having a cooking show, Burgerpants flipping patties, etc.

It does make me wonder-- do the ingredients make a magical dissolving monster food? Or is it the act of cooking itself that makes it magical?

I also think? The garbage dump probably plays a role with the food in the Underground?? Food probably falls down from the surface? Isn't that where Alphys gets her Instant Noodles from?? Or are there wheat farms in the underground?? There IS flour though?? In Mettaton's show?? Where do the eggs come from??

I'm unsure if gaining HP is indicative of magic monster food, as I don't have anything to back up that assumption. If that assumption is correct, though, then the reasoning that cooking/baking itself makes monster food magical wouldn't hold up. Astronaut Food gives you HP, and you found that in the dump, presumably washed up from the surface. Perhaps entering the Underground itself makes a food item a monster food item?

Contrary to the conversation above, there does have to exist bathrooms of some variation within the Underground as Papyrus "showers in his battle body suit". Regardless, there'd be no wanting for a toilet with monster food apparently not going through the digestion process.

With the presence of a toilet in Deltarune, four possibilities come to mind:

a.) All Deltarune Light World Food DOES have the same properties as Undertale's monster food, monsters simply Do Not Poop, and that toilet is for Kris and Kris alone. Which, uh, they apparently choose to flush bath bombs down...?

b.) The toilet is E for Everyone and Deltarune, Light World food does not possess that non-digesting magical quality. Monsters poop.

c.) The Deltarune Light World has a combination of both monster food and human food, therefore the porcelain throne is a needed essential in any well-to-do house.

d.) Deltarune Light Word Food has some variations of properties that operate on another set of unrelated rules.

Or, at least, that's what I thought. However, in the case of option (a.), if this non-digesting Monster Food is the norm in the Deltarune Overworld, then Kris wouldn't really need a toilet either, would they? Maybe in the beginning of their assumed adoption, but definitely not now. So that makes option (a.) a little moot.

I cannot think of any alternatives that would pave the way for option (d.), so it's likely (c.) or (b.). I'm more inclined to lean towards (b.) just for the fact that there are not any present indicators that (c.) is true. Even something small would suffice, like a package saying 'magic-made' or something. If (b.) is true, then that raises the question of Where The Heck Is The Magic even more.

The hot chocolate doesn't show any HP healing when checked. Funnily enough, the box of chocolates does affect your health, dropping to a solid 19/20.

(If [b.] is true, the hot chocolate would lend credence to the idea that HP healing means magical food, and visa versa. The two points would feed on each other like a neverending worm eating worm.)

RELIGION

Christmas is a Thing. Wonder how that happened? Humans make it? monsters? Both?

Is DR Christmas related to religion? I gotta tell you I'm eating whatever DT religion world-building I can get. Seems monotheistic? Or is it more of a life-style dealio? Not of the confessional type, something something angel, the sick fruit juice, what is the Story There. Hymns?? I find it funny that presumably, the deltarune carpet Kris has in their room is equivalent to hanging a cross up. There's also the Deltarune on the school door so.

Imagine you fall inside a storage closet with your classmate-bully who eats chalk and all of a sudden you got your fancy new glowup and you've just been attacked for some reason and you meet this random cloaked figure in the castle. He starts telling you a story that boils down to 'ay yo secret world here you gotta save the Earth. If you don't do anything Jesus Christ is gonna come down here and wreck stuff' like huh??

(Emphasis on 'light' here??)

The angel seems to be a positive figure in Kris' religion, even maybe the central figure. It could be akin to a God or something like a prophet. It could be the one who spread the religion in the first place. But in the Dark World prophecy, we have to stop the 'Angel's Heaven'-- making the Angel our apparent opponent.

This could be calling back to UT Gerson's telling of the Deltarune. There, it was left up to interpretation whether the angel was gonna make the Underground 'go empty' in a good way or a bad way. It'll be interesting to find out more about it either way.

Other interesting things include the currency being actual dollars in the Light World. Dark World has dark dollars, obviously, but the money in Asriel's drawer is specifically referred to as 'dollars'. No gold here folks.

Anddd that's all the world differences that I can think of at the moment. This was supposed to be just about why the words [HeartShapedObject] sent a shiver down my spine when I first played the game. I haven't really written things like this before, but I suppose the brainrot needs to fester somewhere. I'm pretty sure I've seen videos floating around about SOULs and Deltarune DETERMINATION on YouTube already. This list is moreover for me to figure things out, so there's probably stuff that people have known for a while~

All in all, I want to continuously keep in mind that Undertale rules do not automatically apply to Deltarune rules. It's fascinating to see if/where they differ. While I'm pretty sure some rules of the Undertale world are supposed to carry over, I'll wait until those details have been confirmed within the game of Deltarune itself. Deltarune is its own world and I can't wait to see whatever the Light World has in store.

If anyone in the Deltarune fandom (who for some ungodly reason has read this far) knows any theories/facts that might answer some questions that popped up here, or if anything I've said so far is Blatantly Wrong, I'd love to know! (Nicely, please.)

Evidently, I might be into Deltarune again. Now excuse me while I replay Chapter Two...

[luvbuggyyy]

hey there! I’m bug, she/they, 18+ and I’m knee-deep in steddie! I made this blog in case anyone wanted to screech at me about my fics, but also just to have a space dedicated to my current hyperfixation! I’ll update this lil pinned with my current works and my WIPs as they change :)

uhhh I don’t have a DNI or anything but just. Be kind to me and each other. That’s pretty much it.

Disclaimer (which is also posted on all of my fics lol): I haven’t actually seen a lick of stranger things (yet). I’m insane. Sometimes my writer brain and neurodivergence fuse and let me understand 70-85% of a character without even glancing at their source material. I just know actually watching the show will make me worse. I do intend to watch it, but I’m trying to get the hyperfixation to calm down a little before I even attempt it. Regardless, if you give my fics a chance, I hope you enjoy them! I have fun writing them. Check em out below! 

Last updated: 12/16/22

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luvbuggy/pseuds/luvbuggy

In Progress

girl, put your records on - currently two chapters, 11k+

“Off the Record,” Eddie groans, slapping his hand to his face. “If that’s not the cheesiest shit I’ve ever seen—“

“I know, but you’re gonna love the employee discount.” She pulls on his arm until he stumbles after her.

They peruse the store for a bit. They’ve got Wham playing on the overhead speakers and while Eddie does manage not to vomit, he doesn’t bother suppressing a giant eyeroll.

He’s gonna be a snob if he works here. He knows it. He’s right to be a snob. Music is for everyone in theory, but it’s supposed to have meaning and soul, not just a catchy chorus or synth or whatever the fuck. It’s supposed to have a message. People don’t get that anymore. What’s the point of music if it doesn’t rock you to your core? A good song changes the world. Music is the universal human connector.

But, here’s the thing. He has a heart. And Chrissy’s beaming at him with wide, sparkling eyes, an ABBA record in her hands, and his heart tells him to do whatever the fuck she wants. Even if it means choking back his snob-hood. Normal!AU where Eddie would follow his best friend anywhere, including into hell--AKA Starcourt.

in the dead of night (love bites, love bites) - 3/8 chapters, 29k+

Steve bolts upright as his breathing kicks into high gear. His hand finds his bat’s handle and within seconds he’s creeping further into the house. Everything is still dark and empty, just as he left it. He creaks down the stairs.

Thud. Thud.

The front door.

He gives the bat a quick spin, warming up his wrists. No way it’s Robin or any of the kids, they would’ve called or been yelling for him by now. There’s nothing outside but silence and the dull impacts, like something heavy’s relentlessly colliding with the door.

He tiptoes down the stairs. The door shakes in its frame. He gingerly undoes the latch, takes a few quick breaths, and throws the door open, raising his bat to swing.

Standing in the doorway is a creature that looks frighteningly like Eddie Munson.

WIPs/ideas bouncing in my brain like the windows screensaver

- future fruity four (ronance + steddie) where they get married to beard for each other. exploring what it means to build a home with and for the ones you love. normal au romcom vibes + background drumcheer - in progress

- first kill au (i’m insane for this one truly). not a one to one au but more the vibes of their universe. undercover legacy vamp eddie falls head over heels for monster hunter steve, sworn into the guild by adoptive dad and hunter Hopper. background ronance ft werewolf robin. modern au. - still cooking

- peter pan pirate au (sighs loudly). Prince Steven’s shitty little life turns upside down thanks to a mischievous, handsome Devil of a pirate and his band of scrappy thieves. ft ronance - in progress

[evenmywordsare]

well now that it’s been 24 hours, here are my personal thoughts on chapter two. spoilers obviously!

so susie might be one of my favourite characters in all media now? i don’t even have the words. i would kill for her. i love her and her faces and her enthusiasm and her awkwardness and. how she took an interest in healing magic but still fires it off in a badass way. i just love her SO much

everything about noelle. what a sweetpea i LOVE her i can’t even put it into words either. she is so brave. also when she strangled berdly

SUSIE AND RALSEI BROTP RISE UP. they are the cutest friends omfg. i’m obsessed

also susie and kris brotp continues to be top tier

ralsei is super weird though. he is a sweetheart but he is 100% hiding something. HOW DOES HE KNOW ABOUT THE SUPPLY CLOSET. WHY DIDN’T HE TURN TO STONE LIKE ROUXLS AND LANCER. WHY DID NOELLE AND BERDLY AND QUEEN SEEM TO BARELY PERCEIVE HIM. WHAT WAS WITH THAT WIERD CONVERSATION AFTER THE SPAMTON FIGHT. IS HE EVEN A DARKNER. WHO IS HE

loved his suit with the lil bowtie though that was so cute

im not sure if ralsei has a uh. crush on kris. or if he’s just so completely unused to affection of any kind. i’d lean toward the latter which makes me so sad. who hurt him

SUSIE AND NOELLE SUSIE AND NOELLE!! oh they were so cute help me

they should have told noelle the truth though :/ it’s too bad susie panicked

QUEEN was delightful and super funny and so fun and i’m sincerely glad she stuck around. absolutely love her

i can’t perceive her as lancer’s actual mother. like i saw it coming within the first minute of meeting her with the colour scheme and the name but it doesn’t fit for me, nor do i want to for a single second think about her being in a relationship with the sp*de k*ng

i don’t care for any sp*de k*ng woobifying btw. fuck that guy

i was not expecting antagonist berdly but ngl i kinda loved it. i love how the dark world immediately went to his head it was perfect. he’s AWFUL but in a hysterical and entertaining way. he’s a great parody of a character and i genuinely enjoyed his presence and role in the game

i just love that trope where the protagonist’s bully or rival gets powers equivalent to theirs and then lets the power go to their head and goes way too far with it and i could see some of that with berdly. i almost wish toby had pushed it a bit further with that

WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON WITH SPAMTON. what was with the obvious mettaton in the basement and spamton’s boss music having the mad dummy and power of neo and mettaton and jevil motifs. and the yellow soul mode. WHAT WAS WITH SEAM’S COMMENTARY ABOUT HIM. IMPORTANT TO A CERTAIN LIGHTNER ONCE? METTATON? HELLO? what is the timeline here. i am going insane

asriel’s computer shows game development with a final boss that has rainbow wings. the dark world in this chapter was in a computer, meaning that mettaton body must have come from the internet. is it possible that asriel is making undertale…? i have no clue what’s happening ignore me

not knowing the exact connection between undertale and deltarune is going to kill me

anyway i got lucky and somehow survived spamton on the first try but what an insane battle

toriel and sans besties content :) they are besties in any universe!

what were snowy and monster kid talking about by the weird door……… the way they directly mentioned kris too…. did kris come from there?

more confirmation that other humans exist in this world, just not in hometown, is interesting.

so what i’m understanding is that dess died (hence noelle freezing up at the word “december” during the spelling bee) and that potentially cop asg*re killed her (hence the rift between the two families, asg*re not seeing rudy in person, the divorce, asg*re getting kicked off the force) anyway acab

i continue to h*te delatrune undyne. toby how could you do my all time favourite ut character like this. disgusting

TORIEL AND SUSIE 😭 oh my god. their interactions were super important to me. they made a pie and it nearly brought me to tears

susie’s expression and walk animation in kris’ house is 🥺

based on her reactions to the room ralsei made for her and kris’ house and the way toriel treated her, susie definitely does not have a room or a house or (nice) parents. maybe toriel could adopt her

toriel’s pyjamas

has kris been the knight this whole time? i’m still a kris defender and i will never call them evil but i am just wondering

also we all agree they were the one to slash toriel’s tires right? obviously they don’t want toriel to leave… but they also opened the door. to let the darkness out? will the whole town be covered in darkness? dark world toriel, undyne???

with the utmost love and respect i did not vibe with the cyber setting as much as the original dark world setting. still lots of fun of course though and loved the amount of care and detail that went into it but i won’t miss it. it didn’t feel very “deltarune” to me especially in the beginning with those objecthead robots, or at the end with the punch out boss fight. but that’s just down to my personal preference

i LOVED the enemies- tasques, werewires, poppups, maice etc. so creative and interesting!

the recruitment mechanic is great and gives so much more purpose to the enemy encounters

the new music is soooo good. slaps as always mr fox

i haven’t done the no mercy route yet.. i don’t think anything is worth doing horrible things to noelle so i’ll have to see if people say it’s worth it (i’m someone who really enjoys the ut no mercy route for the boss fights so i AM interested but. noelle. yikes lol)

overall i really enjoyed it for the music and characters!

[churchyardgrim]

KING OF THE DEAD by Gene DeWeese

[intro post]

oh boy, oh happy day, i get to talk about Azalin Rex

this book does some fun stuff with mild fakeouts and starting at the end and then jumping back to the beginning in a way where it's not immediately clear how one connects to the other, but it's not done in such a way that it's meant to pull the wool over the reader's eyes, which is good bc i already knew the end twist going in and lemme tell u it is very satisfying watching our charming protag charge headlong and heedlessly towards his own doom

Firan Zal'Honen is a wizard! he's the very best wizard who ever wizarded, and currently he has no idea where he came from or why he's not there anymore or what the fuck just happened

all he knows is, he was tortured with visions for a bit, as one does, and then the mist spat him out in a place called Darkon, and the guy in charge of Darkon, helpfully named Darcalus, is the object of Firan's utter and all consuming loathing, and also killed his son probably

so Firan does what any reasonable wizard would do and enlists the help of some local coup-organizers to weasel his way into the upcoming Met Gala for all the governors in this place. he sneaks out of the approved areas, argues with the ghost of his son for a bit, barges in some places he's not supposed to be, and finally finds what he's been after: the object containing the soul of his nemesis, without which Darcalus, an undead wretch, is mortal and vulnerable

smashy smashy!

unfortunately this is Ravenloft, where the universe can and will bend over backwards to fuck you over, and Firan has some conspicuous gaps in his memory. gaps that are helpfully filled when the punchup with Darcalus turns into a merging of souls and minds and oh shit, thats you Firan buddy! the thing you were hellbent on revenge for? you did all that!

and now the book takes 150 pages to explain itself, going down the laundry list of Firan's life up to this point. this is less interesting to me than what just happened, so suffice to say he was a stubborn and prideful magical prodigy that ended up the wizard-king ruler of a country called Knurl out in the prime material plane

the man's lawful evil all the way down, having some uhhhhhhh lets say draconian ideas about how to maintain peace and order, and yes it does involve a lot of beheadings how did u guess. eventually he figures out that magic can't, in fact, keep him kicking forever, and puts some effort into getting himself an heir. 

there's a frankly hilarious bit where he has a crisis of confidence upon realizing that a decade of trying has produced no viable results, and despite having mastery of the unquenchable fire of the stars he apparently never learned the Scan Ur Dick spell, so the problem might just be you, Firan, did u ever think of that before blaming ur wife

anyway turns out his wife did in fact curse his dick so once he got that taken care of he gets himself a lovely lil scion to raise in his perfect mirror image

shockingly, this goes as follows: 

Firan: "my son! i will teach you to rule as i do, with a fair and just iron fist!"

Irik: "hm. consider, tyranny bad? oh cool ur not listening immmmm just gonna go join the rebels real quick"

Firan: "........."

Firan: "anyway i need to execute you now"

Irik: "cool. i forgive you btw."

Firan, an hour later: [great sobbing wizard tantrum about how his son's dead now]

me: [also great sobbing wizard tantrum about how his son's dead now]

seriously, despite being the world's stupidest smart person, and also objectively evil, this guy has a lot of pathos! i feel for this idiot! i wanna shake him by the lapels and make him acknowledge how much he actually cares for his son!

the big thing here is he's baked Lawfulness into his own nature to the point where any emotion that doesn't follow what his idea of a Proper Ruler should be gets ruthlessly cauterized. except it doesn't work like that, you prick, so he ends up eating his own tail about how he did exactly the right thing, his only fault was not raising irik to be a "stronger" prince, and thats why he feels like his heart is breaking from grief and guilt.

except it can't be guilt bc he did nothing wrong. do u see the problem here.

anyway this is where the quote unquote Dark Powers get involved. they coerce Firan into taking the next step on his Foolproof Live Forever Through Positive Thinking And Magic plan, and one really bad baja blast later the man's a fullblown lich

lich powers! necromancy! shame the only form he's capable of bringing his son back to life in is a wretched rotting shadow of true life, in constant agony and despair, and not even Firan is gonna settle for that

so back to the drawing board! he spends the next few decades scouring the continent for magical secrets and tales of resurrection, trying to find a way to bring his son back properly and gain atonement for both of them

eventually the mists take him and drop him into Barovia, bc Strahd's the fuckign welcome wagon for new arrivals i guess, and Firan, by now called Azalin, sets up shop in Castle Ravenloft for forty fuckign years

they were tombmates

oh my god, they were tombmates

to my unending outrage, the book spends barely a chapter on this period. give me more damn you! show me the petty squabbles, the arguments over who keeps leaving corpses in the hallway, the lingering sexual tension on movie nights! i deserve to know who tops goddammit!

but no, we just skip to Azalin chasing after a mirage into the mists four decades later, and then uhhhhhh getting split in two? like when a cartoon character gets zapped with a science laser and splits into Good Half and Evil Half? except it's Human Half and Lich Half, which hate each other on instinct

and we're back at the beginning! with human Firan acting on his loathing for the lich Darcalus, only to fuse together again and force him to confront the fact that the person he holds such hatred and anger for is himself

thus, Azalin Rex settles into his final form. a wretched, undead genius, locked in his own prison domain and given a country to rule the way one gives a highly maladjusted macaw a rubix cube with a peanut hidden inside

in conclusion, i am now in the stage of grief labeled "memes"

[sleepylixie]

What are friends for?

College! Han Jisung X fem! Roommate reader

Imperium Universe || Jisung || Seungmin || Chan

1.5k words, Fluffy Fluff fluff,College!AU, Roommate!AU

Beware of: None other than teeth-rotting fluff and a teeny bit of swearing. Seungmin is chaotic evil incarnate but we been knew already 😂😂

A/N: the soft feels for Han Jisung hit hard 24/7, you guys. I MEAN LOOK ST THIS CUTIE BABIE I AM SIMPING. i have nothing more to say for myself. Please enjoy my offerings 🥺❤️❤️

Requests are open for SKZ and BTS! || Masterlist

//

Han Jisung wasn’t used to roommates. Him and his law major friend Seungmin had neglected to apply for on-campus housing until the last minute. A freak administrative error had the both of them assigned to a certain Y/N’s room and... safe to say, the two of them had had a bit of a surprise in store for them when they met you.  

It was disconcerting for Jisung at first- to see his first impression of your appearance as a possibly reserved, introverted character dissolve into chaos the second you opened your mouth. You were a force of nature dressed in pastel skirts, a lavender-scented hurricane that had no control over her tongue or hair. You smiled like a fox- sweet and unassuming on the surface, but sharp-witted and deceptive underneath.

Jisung knew instantly that Seungmin would click with your personality. The both of you were freakishly similar, with your innocent appearance melting into sheer devilry whenever the two of you wished so. Of course, he was right.  Seungmin took to you with great interest-the two of you clicked like kindred souls, or possibly reunited twins who were separated at birth. Jisung, on the other hand... 

He was intimidated by you, and that made it slightly difficult for him to settle down around you. While you never treated him with anything beyond familiarity and the niceties of acquaintances, he could never allow himself the same sense of familiarity that Seungmin allowed himself with you. 

He wished so dearly that he could behave otherwise, for he would be lying if he said he hadn’t found you just a little attractive (just a smidgen) from the second he met you. Jisung wanted to be close to you, gain your trust and friendship, but for some reason(him scared of looking like an idiot and possibly having you judge him for the rest of his life) he could never bring himself to do it.

//

The three of you had been living together for a good year and a half, well into your third semester and you’d all figured out how to live with each other. For example, Seungmin would only cook if there was DAY6 music playing in the kitchen. The way you entered the house was a clear indication of your mood that day- and today, it was a loud, resounding slam followed by strings of cursing.

“This is a fucking scam. This entire university is a cesspool of money mongering bastards and greedy professors who don’t deserve a shred of anybody’s fucking respect-

“Woah, slow down there, tiger, what’s got your tail on fire?” Jisung asked you, jumping upright from where he was lounging on the couch. Your eyes flashed with annoyance as you threw yourself onto the side of the couch Jisung had just vacated.

He couldn’t help but let his eyes rove your body as unnoticeably as he could manage. Your hair looked windswept from your walk back to the apartment, one of the guys’ hoodies and jeans covering your frame. How you could look so devastatingly adorable despite having steam pouring out of your ears was absolutely beyond him.

“What happened, is my fucking creative lit professor refused to grade me up for the mid-term assignment, even though I know my piece was one of the best.” You were fuming, stark raving mad, literally one second away from shooting sparks out of your ears as your hands twisted together on your lap.

“He told me that if I worked harder at trying to become a better writer, I wouldn’t have to be begging for a better grade. AND HE SAID THAT I SHOULD TRY NEW METHODS OF BEGGING IF I WANTED IT THAT BADLY.”

Jisung’s eyes narrowed as he took in the words that were spewing out of your mouth. “Did he really-” “YES HE DID I CAN’T WITH THIS UNIVERSITY-” You burst out, letting an angry yell punctuate your sentence. 

“Do you want to go to the Dean? I’m sure they’ll be able to do something about it.” 

At that, you smiled at Jisung, the same foxy smile that had him shrinking a little into himself every time he saw it- it was a thing of rather savage beauty, very out-of-place on a face as endearing as yours.

“Not really, I handled it myself.”

Jisung stared at you, his internal discomposure melting into curiosity. “What the fuck did you do Y/N, I swear if you got one of the varsity jocks to beat him up or something-”

“I’m glad you think I’m capable of that, honestly.” You giggled, anger temporarily forgotten, swatting at Jisung’s thigh. Were those butterflies in his stomach? Gods, he would eat a knife if it got them to stop fluttering-

//

“She had the Dean on call when she spoke to that sleazeball of a professor,” Jisung exclaimed, amidst assorted gasps and cheers from his audience, laughing a little himself as he sipped his beer. “guess who got a new creative lit professor and full marks for the assignment.”

You laughed as everybody around you let out peals of laughter, thumping you on the back in appreciation.

Your roommates had a gang of 6 other boisterous boys from all over the campus, united by a string of unsavory events and narrowly avoided expulsion. You should probably be concerned, sure, but the vibe the 8 of them had with each other was way too nice for you to not be roped in; now you were part of all their weekly parties at Chris and Hyunjin’s frat house. 

You were situated on the armrests of one of the couches in said frat house, red cup supplied with your kind of poison- Whiskey and soda. All of the boys were gathered around the common room, laughing and talking amongst each other when Jisung took it upon himself to recount the story of your creative lit professor’s unfortunate dismissal. 

It was a rather embarrassing pastime of yours, to watch Han Jisung. He was a strange one, alright. Out in the world, he was a loud, boisterous guy with a penchant for words, knowing exactly what to say at any point of time. It earned him his reputation of being a cheeky mood maker in any setting, the kind of guy who had friends all over the campus and beyond. 

In truth, however, the Han Jisung you came to know was reserved, a little more hesitant with his words, the kind who’d allow his friends to speak up for him unless he absolutely had to. He wasn’t a pushover by any means, no. He was just a little more picky with his words when they were meant for the people he was comfortable with.

For some reason, it warmed your heart when he behaved that way around you too- it felt like he’d accepted you into his inner circle. For some reason, your heart honest to god skips a beat when he smiles, this fucking adorable smile every time you and Seungmin tease him around at the apartment because fuck, he doesn’t always smile like that, does he? For some reason, you end up noticing his eyes when he smiled like that, the way his cheeks lifted up in this devastating manner, the way he’d laugh out loud with his whole body, so at odds with his reserved personality-

Yeah, no you definitely had a thing for him. You thought you were being glaringly obvious with it too, with the unabashed way you’d notice and steal glances at him every time he walked into the room. 

Not that you’d ever tell him any of this though, you were fairly sure you’d sent him an impression of mild intimidation with your rather...loud personality.

It was probably for the best if you admired Han Jisung from afar, hoping that your fancy for him doesn’t take the reins on your behavior.

Jisung might not have noticed, but another certain somebody definitely did. Somebody who’s brain was already thinking, well-oiled cogs being put to use.

\\

“Jisung, you should probably know that Y/N has a thing for you,”

“Seungmin what the fu-” you spluttered, neck already burning. This was not fucking happening.

“Is this what the roommate convention was for, you sneaky lil rat?” you exclaimed, doing everything you could to not lock eyes with the third roommate who was seated on your bed with the other two of you, now gawking between you and Seungmin with a rose blush scattered across his nose. 

Seungmin, to his credit, wasn’t fazed for a single second by the way the energy in the room changed, choosing to smile devilishly before continuing with his next sentence. 

“Y/N, you should probably know that Jisung has a thing for you too,”

What the fiddlesticks-

“And now, for my final trick, I shall excuse myself from this room. Roommate convention adjourned.”

Seungmin walked out of your room with a literal skip in his step. You would deal with your snake of a best friend after you were done with.. oh.

Your eyes finally met Jisung’s- warm amber eyes still looking at with a mixture of curiosity, surprise and affection that just knocked the words out of you. “Was Seungmin pranking me again?” He asked quietly, a hint of a smile playing across his lips. You sighed, trying to expel the nervousness. What the hell, might as well say the truth. 

“Not really,” the back of you neck felt like literal lava at this point- “I do like you.”

You were going to kill Seungmin.

“Good to know,” Jisung sighed in relief, his fingers twisting together on his lap. “Because uh.. He wasn’t pranking you either.” The next words seemed to take effort for him to get out, because his blush spread from his nose to his cheeks. “I like you too.”

You were going to thank Seungmin.

And then you were going to toss him into a dark room with Lee Minho and his boxing gloves, but that’s for later. 

[vaguely-concerned]

The Mandalorian Chapter 14 reactions: HOLY SHIT THAT WAS AWESOME BUT ALSO I’M CRYING edition

- the good good din characterization is back after all the weirdness last episode!!!! that soft way he says ‘no, no, I’m not mad at you’? THAT’S din djarin, he would not be fucking impatient with his son having just been informed and seen for himself that he is terrified, go away mr filoni I know you’ve got all of canon memorized but you don’t get this lol. this feels much more right in how din being conflicted and still thinking he should give the baby away for his own good plays out too  

honestly every line of dialogue for him in this one was perfect I was just whispering ‘I love this awkward clueless wonderful man just doing his best’ to myself any time he said anything. “...does this look Jedi to you?” sir I adore you more than words can describe

- we got din chuckling. asjdklfhsdkafghsdafsadhjkfsdahjkfh. fskahfksjad. side note: I can’t believe my joke post about din desperately trying to Force home school the kid with the one (1) jedi trick he knows about and the baby being delighted by it over and over anyway -- listen to his expectant excited laugh when din takes the ball and sets up the game!!!! -- was canon all along. and then the baby & mando music kicking in when he gently put the silver ball into the baby’s hands again and tells him he’s special (because he IS special. to din)? hmng. hmmmmnnnnn  

they opened on the height of softness so we would all crumple under the weight of the rest of the episode and that was very mean of them in a way I sincerely appreciate 

- nothing to see here... just a dad trying to walk through the literal manifestation of the unassailable underlying forces of the universe to get to his baby again and again........ the desperation in that, the love, the foolhardy devotion................... shit

- okay so I might be a dumbass, but I’d never noticed this before -- the silver ball has a blue spot on the top, like so: 

and in addition we get the room where the baby goes full darth grogu (I have to laugh so I don’t cry okay) on those storm troopers, and there’s a red light in there dominating the room (and it did even more in the concept art):

in star wars blue means light side and red means dark side (it’s very sophisticated that way), meaning the visual storytelling here is that there’s a battle for the baby’s soul and gideon and all his nonsense (and the trauma bb’s been through in the wider sense) is pulling towards the dark, while grogu and din’s connection leads him towards the light. just... the image of the baby looking at his own reflection in the symbolic representation of his relationship to din? the way children find their sense of self through being safely reflected and held by their caretakers? god help meeeeeee I will go in there and fistfight gideon myself for disrupting that in any way  

the smaller light seems to be blue too, like there’s still the presence of light even if it’s dimmed and small in that shitty horrible room, which is a change from the concept art!

- FENNEC SHAND SURVIVED BITCHES!!! I even called that she’d be back with new shiny robot parts back in season 1, could not happen to a cooler lady, I hope we get more backstory and interaction from her the next episodes -- sounds like she’s basically sworn herself to boba’s service in gratitude for saving her life, I wonder if that’s a cultural thing of whereever she comes from? does she live aboard slave 1 now too?? because that would be hilarious and amazing, it must be like two strange cats trying to get used to sharing the same space   

- everything I could ever hope for about boba fett in this series came true, they went down the much more interesting and nuanced route with jango and boba’s identities as mandalorians, he looked cool as fuck and made din as a character shine rather than overshadowing him... amazing beautiful yesss 

(I did 100% not anticipate just how ‘cool uncle boba here to help you fuck shit up’ he was going to be but I am delighted to get it anyway. uncle points deducted for getting someone to point a gun at the baby, but the main point still stands lol) 

the power and brutality of his hand to hand fighting too... a w e s o m e , I enjoyed the action scenes a lot in this one

- they even recanonized him actually wearing jango’s armour. what more could I ask for. I’ve had confused parent & child feels about these two since I was like eleven and here we fucking go again. and jango fighting in the mando civil wars too!

- so I’m grieving the razor crest (and I always will be, rip you magnificent jalopy, always in my heart) but also there’s the grim satisfaction that my reading on it was sort of true -- it is (...was. oh god it’s going to take a while to sink in huh) a symbol of din’s self and life, and at this point when they take the baby it tears everything else to pieces. the only thing that’s left in the ashes is the beskar and the thing that connects him to the baby. and there’s... a strange solace in seeing that that’s all he needs to keep going? he’s fucking obliterated from orbit but he still has his love for the baby and the beskar and that can keep him going until he finds something new, everything else can be replaced?????? weirdly healing, though he is probably going to have a solid breakdown at some point after they get the kid back (shut up they are getting the kid back) and the cold distant fog lifts 

also this scene/shot feels like it carries some Meaning, doesn’t it? I’m on record several times saying I never want din to be mand’alor and that’s still true, but there’s something about the framing of this and the way boba looks at him that’s like... hm. I’m not sure I have the words for it. there’s something heightened about it, anyway, for a moment he looks like something mythic there in the wreckage 

(something I would be much cooler with is our clan of two growing a little bit and those new people rallying behind him, actually, that might be neat. imagine if a force user does show up for the baby and gets adopted into the clan somehow??? so many possibilities.) 

- from the way he picks up the silver ball... din djarin is on his way to straight up murder some people huh

I think part of what reassures me about this scene is the music -- this mando flute is not distant, is not beaten, is not despondent, it’s clear and determined and strong.

- 

I love this. I love when we get explicit baby POVs, it makes it feel so real and intimate and... like home. (I especially loved baby’s point of view inside the razor crest, which just made me tear up again. baby lost the closest thing he’s had to a home in a long long time on top of it all. everything is suffering)

-

Emotionally Significant Thumb Grabbing tm; the show

- din djarin looking for the ‘on’ switch on a magic rock fhsdakjfhsadlfhsdjah I can’t breathe

 “Well, this is the seeing stone. Are you. Seeing anything?” fsafkdsajhfsa sdhfksjalhfkjsdahfkjsdhf

- the energy around the baby as he’s, in ahsoka’s words, ‘choosing his path’ is blue, and the force sort of works across time and space, right?? so there’s definitely still hope for our lil green bean to not have to come up with a really dumb unsubtle sith name for himself, as is regrettably yet delightfully tradition. darth babbu should never come to pass (I do like how they’re interrogating the normal dark/light side dichotomy in this series, seeing as this is a literal baby who can’t really be responsible for that stuff himself yet and has such capacity for both.)  

- listen. listen, the way din says ‘can you please hurry up’ with no sarcasm or real impatience whatsoever, more like a harried worry, to his force-meditating son as he jogs off to make sure no one’s trying to kill them. is hilarious and also YES this is what the character is!!! weirdly and incongruously polite under stress sometimes and with a slightly odd reaction pattern to things!!! he’s not just quiet and badass, he’s a little strange sometimes and it’s so good!  

- a friendly opening volley warning shot from boba there

also din uncertainly asking BOBA FETT if he’s a jedi... now this is the dramatic irony I’ve been looking for haha 

I guess neither shand nor boba actually know din’s name after this either. baby you gotta start introducing yourself at some point it gets real confusing when there are two mandos on screen 

oh the long weary sigh going through din’s frame when boba says he wants ‘the armour’ and he thinks it’s just someone trying to peel the beskar off his corpse again. sorry the galaxy’s so shitty dad   

- “But fate sometimes steps in to rescue the wretched” is a killer line well done mr favreau. I like that boba actually offers din a good deal as well and seems to intend to deliver on it from how things are going. 

- din using his beskar-covered bod to cover someone he’s fighting alongside!!! literal moving cover haha. also I love fennec’s costume design  

- I don’t know where din got more whistling birds from and I don’t care, it was really cool haha 

-

wow haha um so anyway -- 

(cue all the ‘who wore it better’ with cobb vanth’s ‘spiderman’s first home made costume’ look on one side and ABSOLUTE UNIT DADDY boba fett on the other side posts lol)

- aaaghh the music almost like a stunned desperate fluttering heart beat as din watches the razor crest be destroyed 

- for someone who has willingly worked for them in the past boba sure sounds less than thrilled about having the empire back in any capacity 

- oof the deadness in din’s voice when he says “The child is gone”. ooooh no that got me  h e l p 

- guessing next episode is at least partly a ‘gathering old allies and preparing the assault’ step before the grand finale, then! they cannot go for the season ender cliffhanger with this, I will fucking riot. anything can be up in the air except baby and dad being separated, I will not allow it

it would be very funny if the force user baby called out to comes stumbling into the middle of all this like the troy entering the room with pizzas meme too 

- the music in the darth grogu scene is partially a dark mirror of the baby & mando music :’( is nothing in this world sacred

also from how he reaches out for it baby might have used a light saber before in the past with the jedi? ngl the idea of baby wielding the dark saber not when he’s all grown up but in like two episodes -- with all the chaos a toddler holding a laser sword would involve -- is all that is keeping me sane here 

‘liable to put an eye out with one of these’ well gideon you sure have doomed someone to lose an eye with that one, here’s to hoping it’s you, for full dramatic payoff 

he is a deliciously smug awful force with great musical cues tho, you have to give it to him

- okay so this

is obviously awful and horrible and it makes me so sad... but it is undeniably also very very very funny in how it’s framed. you know what? after all this bullshit baby grogu can have a little dark side tantrum, as a treat, we’ve all been there right

(forget finding a jedi, we need to go out there and find a child psychologist who can help him deal with this without adding the fear that he’s on the path to become a two foot tall evil space sorcerer to the mix Y_________Y) 

- rip the razor crest except for the second time :’’’( gone but never forgotten

- the last thing din tells the baby is “I’m gonna protect you; I’ll be back soon”. and I hope that stays with the kid somehow and that it actually comes true, that din will be back for him as soon as humanly possible and all this pain and fear can be repaired. ggggghhhhh my emotions are too big for my dumb human body 

[pomegranates-and-blood]

νοσταλγία (Prologue)

(Gif credit to @honestsycrets​)

νοσταλγία Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar/Reader (eventual)

Summary: This is a retelling/romantization of the Greek myth of Persephone’s abduction with Ivar as Hades and you as Persephone. The Reader character is a Greek/Byzantine woman, follower of the Greek Pantheon/Religion, and a devoted follower of Persephone. This takes place after 5A, but the universe of this is a little changed in relation with the series, of course. Thank you for giving it a chance, hope you enjoy!

Word Count: Like 7k, I’m sorry

Warnings: As usual, mentions and descriptions of blood, death, torture, injury and people being burnt alive. Mentions or allusions to rape. If there’s anything else I didn’t mention, please let me know. Fair warning that the Reader Character may not be everyone’s cup of tea, but please give her a chance.

A/N: So, in this universe, bc fuck Michael Hirst, Sigurd is alive (tho Ivar did throw the axe) but married and away, Bjorn is still somewhere sunny, and Dublin was founded in Saxon land by Hvitty, Ivar and Ubbe, but it is the latter the one in control, prompting Ivar to eventually return to Kattegat and take the throne form Lagertha (she is alive just like in the show, only Bjorn is not here -I like to think he would understand his brothers wanting to avenge Aslaug?- and Floki departed bc he didn’t want to have to choose between supporting the kid he raised and an old friend), leaving him as King, Ubbe as ruler of Dublin, Hvitserk in Kattegat for now like in the show, Bjorn getting a tan in the Mediterranean, and Sigurd alive and happy cause goddammit killing him was a stupid choice. Sorry and btw this isn’t my creation, this is based on some exchanges I saw on reddit and a lil bit of me lol)

The warrior hesitates before letting you enter the tent, but you do so quietly and without a word, like it is expected out of you, and the men discussing war take no notice of you as you slip into a seat and watch them discuss.

Narses, still in the armor of a Byzantine Strategus despite his back having been turned to the Empire for a long time, turns to look at you as you enter. He doesn’t say a word, but in his green eyes there’s a plea for you not to speak, one that you must obey with gritted teeth and bitten tongue.

He understands, and there’s relief in Narses’ eyes.

Your friend. Your confidante.

Your fool.

His lips are pressed into a thin line, his hands supporting most of his weight as he leans on the war table.

“Our numbers are strong enough to hold until support from Strepshire arrives.” The Christian you recognize as Leofric -a bishop? Cleric? You have no idea anymore- speaks, his voice not much unlike the sound of the Byzantine soldiers’ armor plates rustling together as they march down the streets, burning idols and slaying the poor fools that believed the Gods would save them.

“If we retreat, we can-…” Narses argues, but is quickly interrupted.

“You belong to us!” Leofric barks, and you startle at the sudden aggression, “You have made a deal, Greeks. You must honor it.”

“I am aware. I am also aware you Saxons would sacrifice everything for your revenge.” Narses scoffs back, interrupting the Saxon and your train of thought at the same time.

“You want the same, boy. Is it not why you insist on gaining our support?” Stithulf, the leader, states, leaning back on his chair and resting his hands on the back of his head.

His posture screams of arrogance, his young age of a boy with too much power, his scars of a monster eager to fight.

You could use someone like him leading your army. You have seen too many of the so-called soldiers in your home bend the knee to a false Emperor. Maybe you need a monster on your side, someone with the same thirst for blood Greece left you with, someone willing and able to bring the Gods down from the very Olympus for retribution.

And as he leans back he catches sight of you, his expression tightens into a scowl, and you discard the remote possibility.

Not only is he a Christian, the same brand of men that burned your home, your mother, and years later you as well; but he looks upon you like all you are to do is be one of more of virginal maidens for his strange pantheon.

“What is the witch doing here?” He asks out loud, and you swallow down the words you want to say, but still holding his gaze.

“She is to be my wife, I trust her advice.” Narses sentences, sending you a glance that you return with a grateful one of your own.

“I didn’t know you Greeks were ruled over by your women.”

“Greek women are the only ones to birth real men.” You quip before you can stop yourself, reminded with the bittersweet feeling of nostalgia of when your father told you those exact words.

“Is that what your Goddess tells you, Heathen?”

Even the cadence of Leofric’s voice is enough to get you to twist your lip as you turn your gaze to him, but he remains stoic, a quiet sort of anger bubbling behind his eyes. You could swear a small smile tugs at his lips, as if he truly believes a simple word is enough to silence you.

The loud interruption of Narses’ fists colliding with the table stops his mocking, and the man’s eyes shift to his Byzantine ally within a moment.

“Do not call her that.”

“It is not an insu-…” You start, but your friend turns to you once again, begging you in silence to keep quiet. Biting down a sigh, you lean back in your chair and return your eyes to the map.

A long way from home, setting tents alongside Christians, and shutting your mouth because a man told you to. For all the visions and counsel the Gods have sent you through the years, a word of what was to become of your integrity would have been appreciated.

The sound of the curtains of the tent flapping open and closed makes you lift your gaze from the map, and you see Stithulf’s retrieving back.

Narses sighs, not looking at you when he concedes, both to inform you and the rest of the Saxons and Arab mercenaries in the room,

“We will hold.”

A cold hand grips your heart and the names of the Goddesses you seek for guidance and comfort are at the tip of your tongue, shaped by your lips but never spoken.

The Christians leave you two alone, and you walk to the soldier hunched over the war table. Your native Greek feels like a soft song evoking nostalgia as it dances past your lips:

“You cannot…”

“Please, my love.”

Anger bubbles within you, and you stand up straighter as you meet his eyes, “Narses, the Varangians will overpower us, you know we lost too many already, the support from Ivar the Boneless’ incoming army will crush us, you know h-…”

“This is a matter of war, love, let me handle it.” Narses interrupts, to which you frown.

“I know of war Narses! And I know this is a foolish move!”

“Do you know how to lift a sword?” He retorts, a challenge in his voice that does not go unnoticed.

“I…” You clench your teeth, looking up at him with narrowed eyes. “I do not need to fight to…”

He laughs bitterly, interrupting you, “Are you hearing your own words?”

“Are you hearing yours? The Varangian King has a crown made of bones and blood, Narses, don’t be foolish. Athena rejoices when he wages war, his army carries her favor.” You spit out your words, trying to make him understand. Narses remains impassive, though, eyes on the map and jaw clenched tight.

“You cannot argue of battle if you have never-…”

You interrupt him with a scoff, pointing an accusing finger at him even when he doesn’t meet your eyes, “I do not need to know how to kill to know the Varangians will swallow you whole. And you’ll drag our people with you.”

At your last words, his head snaps up, eyes facing yours with ferocity and more than old anger, “What choice do I have, huh? We will freeze or starve come winter, we need to move for Eleusis soon!”

“Our people…” You start, but he interrupts you again.

“Our people chose to follow me, and they will.”

“They followed me, they believe in me,” You correct without hesitation, teeth bared, “You followed me, Narses, and I let you, because you promised me an army.”

For a second he hesitates, takes you in with what seem to be new eyes. He seems to have forgotten there’s more than a meek priestess to the woman he followed from Attica. He seems to forget the bloodied hands and hungry smile that greeted him when you gave him the choice to be at your side.

“And I followed you because I love you, because I believe in you!” He exclaims, making shame and regret churn at your insides. You deviate your eyes from his, gritting your teeth.

“I begged you not to force our people to fight against these Norsemen, and you didn’t listen,” You grit out after a few breaths, anger returning to your voice, “Where was your love, your trust, when you chose to ally with these…Christians?”

He takes one of your hands in his, and the touch feels cold.

“You must trust me with this,” He intreats, warm eyes looking for something in your own you don’t think he can find. “Can you trust me?” A small pause, and you taste your own regrets in your mouth, “Love me?”

You press your lips into a line, and because you cannot say anything else, because the lie has gone on for too long and you might as well offer a truth before you entreat your soul to Hades, you whisper,

“Once, I could have.”

But he shakes his head, fervent and certain as he finds your eyes again,

“I promised you Attica, and it will be yours.”

But his words are empty. You do not care for that kingdom if the people that you love are not alive and prospering in it.

“Pray to the Gods you are killed by the Varangians, old friend. I will sacrifice you to Hades myself if you dare return alive from the place you are condemning my people to die on.” You sentence, unable to keep from showing the curl of disgust in your lip, the ancient pain in your eyes.

Narses walks closer to you, eyes searching yours and hands on your shoulders. You clench your jaw. He is gentle, he always is. Gentle, but so were the men that held you as their brothers in arms dragged your mother out of that temple.

You take a step back, but Narses speaks still, ignoring your discomfort,

“These Christians care not for their God, they just want Ivar the Boneless and his brothers. We give them to Stithulf, and they will march for Eleusis with us.”

You shake your head as you watch him believe his own lies.

“Even if we succeed, you are exchanging one master for another, Narses.” The words are your farewell as you turn your back to him and walk towards the entrance of the tent.

____

You walk into your tent and are greeted with a language these Saxons want to have you killed for speaking. The tongue of savages, of barbarians, of Vikings.

“Did they threaten to burn you yet?” Sieghild asks, and you can hear the smile in her voice even if her back is turned to you as she tends to the fire.

“Narses and Stithulf command us to remain,” You confess instead, voice breaking, “Kattegat’s army will be here in a day’s time to aid Dublin’s, but we will not retreat.”

The gasp she lets out forces you to shut your eyes tight in hope of keeping the tears at bay.

You both remain silent for a few instants, and you let yourself fall to the log she brought as a seat. Taking a seat next to you, she places a motherly hand on your knee, squeezing lightly until you look back up at her.

Blueish ink traces ancient marks on the skin of her face, and she moves a lock of your hair away from your face, the rattling sounds of her bracelets and trinkets reaching your ears and filling you with a sense of nostalgia you have difficulty explaining.

“If we must, we will die. Resisting, like your mother and I taught you.”

“This is not the war I will die fighting on!” You yell back, closing your hands into fists as they start shaking. “I will not see my people die fighting a cause not their own, Sieghild. I can’t.”

She takes your head in her hands gently, and, pressing cold lips to your forehead, she gives you the comfort only a mother can.

“Even if we die tomorrow, the Gods are with us. They have been close to you since your birth. You will understand soon.”

“I will certainly see Hades soon.” You smile bitterly, but Sieghild doesn’t falter.

“Then challenge his throne.” She states, and the feral, hungry, look in her eyes makes you think she is not speaking of your God.

You do not even believe in the same Gods, and yet Sieghild remains at your side, you at hers, since she found a crying child clutching a wooden carving of Persephone.

“They want me to give them up, but I won’t.” You argue stubbornly, as the red-haired woman cleans your face with a warm wet cloth. She smiles.

“Arguing about Gods is a matter for adults, little one,” She silences your next argument with a single finger, inked and painted like her face and arms. “They cannot make you believe in their God.”

“But…Mother’s altar, th-they…”

“Those are merely worldly things. The Christians fight with fire what Logi and Glöð themselves have created.”

“Who?”

She chuckles, fingers going through your hair and places a finger on your chest.

“Your faith, your legacy, remain here.”

And at dawn, when the men sound the horns and ready for a battle they must know will be lost, you whisper a prayer to Athena and Enyo, your heart griped tight by the cruel mistresses of Fate.

Even all the tales travelers and mercenaries told you about the army of Kattegat, the sheer strength, the flawless tactics, the barbarian-like warriors; none of that prepared you for the display of forces, however small considering his actual army, Ivar the Boneless has displayed before you.

You catch a glimpse of Narses and Stithulf approaching the King, you hear faintly of the Viking’s taunts.

“Narses is a fool.” You bite out, anger poisoning your voice even as tears clogging your throat make the words wobble.

“A Byzantine Strategus doesn’t fall without a fight, girl. Do not grant my countrymen their victory just yet.”

Even if you hide it as you lower your face, a surge of pride for the foolish warrior that followed you to the ends of the world makes a small smile blossom in your face.

“Do I hear you admitting us soft citizens stand a chance against your brutes, mother?” You mock with a smile, even as you discuss the imminent danger that the Norse men represent to you and your people. Maybe it’s because of the way Sieghild, with all her harshness and tough lessons, comforts you even facing death itself. Maybe it’s the Gods that have guided you your whole life embracing you as you near your descent to Hades.

She laughs, raspy and warm, as always. “I’m saying your boy may give the sons of Ragnar an entertainment.”

A crow flies overhead, cawing loudly and taking your gaze away from the soldiers ahead and into the sky. Something within you, something primal and asleep seems to follow its path in the skies with more than just your eyes.

“Odin is watching. History will be made today.” Sieghild whispers behind you, but you cannot take your gaze away from the black feathers as you answer.

“Apollo sends us an omen. The Gods do not favor us.”

She laughs quietly, shaking her head as she rests a heavy hand on your shoulder

“Your Goddess surely revels in this, dear. The spilled blood of those who will be to arrive at her kingdom waters her flowers, after all."

Flashes of a life before chaos blossom behind your closed eyes, images of a life under the spring sun, of fertility festivals and your mother’s warm laughter as she honors the Daughter of Nature.

And for a second, with the warmth of nostalgia encompassing you, you want to argue that Persephone looks after life; but when your eyes open and all you see is war and cold, you realize maybe she wasn’t the one captured.

Maybe she was not a stolen maiden, but a bloodthirsty usurper.

“May she rejoice, then, and be merciful when we reach her Kingdom.” You whisper.

The war cries reach your ears before you can even see the warriors attack, but soon chaos follows the chariot, that marches not with the set pace of Apollo’s, but free and leaving chaos and death at its wake.

With a heavy weight on your stomach, you hold your place as the battle begins, the injured and dying falling back to the area you look after with Greek soldiers at your back, granting a safe haven for the fallen, either to give them another chance to fight or a merciful end.

_____

It’s been days and the Saxons still push for victory, despite the losses. And, despite their losses and bloodshed, the Vikings push ruthlessly for death.

The camp of healers you have set by the entrance of the woods is so filled with the stench of blood and death that you fear you will never be able to smell a flower again. The warriors come and go, the drachmas in their eyes or in their hands. Your heart dies a little with every familiar face you send off to Hades.

You are working on pressing down with the poultice of herbs to stop a soldier from bleeding from the wound on his back when you hear, past the yells and death and fighting, your name.

You would know that voice anywhere, and you leave the safety of the healing camp to follow the hoarse call.

Narses’ figure stumbles and crawls as he tries reaching you, and, not caring for battle, you run the space separating you. Your knees dig painfully into the earth as you kneel at his side, but the pain in your heart drowns it all.

“No, no, no,” You sob, shaking fingers tracing his bloodied cheeks as he gasps in pain in your arms. His eyes are focused on you, and you cannot deny him the answer of yours, even if battle still goes on around you. With another broken gasp, you whisper, “You fool, you fool.”

Galla calls your name from somewhere at your side, and you turn blind attention to her, murmuring to have people take him to the healers’ tent. She agrees, and you start to pull away from your childhood friend.

Narses opens his mouth to speak, but only blood pours out. You silence him with trembling fingers against his lips, granting the kiss you cannot. Your heart begs you to do something, anything, to keep him alive, to take away his pain, to…to…

But all you do is remain kneeling on the ground, and you cannot take your eyes off his shield. Splattered with blood and mud, left behind a few feet away from you, on the cold and unrelenting earth.

Your mother’s last words to your father, you remember them as if it were yesterday, as if you could still see the warmth in her gaze, the hardened adoration in his. Her delicate hands offering him the shield with Sparta’s symbol on it as he prepared to storm Macedonia, her words a murmur that meant come back to us, my love even when her sentence was other.

Return home with it, or on it.

With it, or on it. With it, or on it. With it, or on it.

But Narses never returned home, none of you ever did. He never returned home, he didn’t die for your home, he died for…for…

You hear hurried footsteps coming towards you, the feeling of having Varangian eyes on you makes you turn just in time to see the warrior approaching. You grab Narses’ shield from the ground, moving as fast as you can to guard your back and block the Viking’s strike with the metal shield.

It is sheer anger and grief, nothing more than the desire to hurt back, that pushes you to take an arrow from the quiver at your back and drive it through the warrior’s knee with your bloodied hand.

He falters, stumbling away from you, but you don’t let go, holding on tightly to the shaft of the arrow and inflicting as much pain as you can. When he finally hits the ground with his back, you crawl over him, sitting on his stomach and bashing his face with the shield.

With your weight upon him, his axe cannot find a home in your skin and instead meets the shield. Over and over, metal meets metal. With a growl, the Viking lets go of it and grabs your hair, pulling roughly and forcing your blows in his face to stop.

You let go of the shield, and your eyes focus on the skies above for a moment before you find the strength to fight.

A yell leaves your lips, and your hungry teeth find the tender skin at the inside of his arm, forcing him to let go of your hair. Blood fills your mouth and almost makes you gag. You spit the flesh from your mouth and with a snarl you drive another arrow through his eye.

He screams as your whole weight leans on the arrow, making sure the projectile you use as a spear kills fast. Your hands keep slipping from the shaft as the blood you have tried to keep from spilling and the blood you have spilled wets your hands.

When he finally stops moving, you know you should feel nothing but emptiness and dread.

Looking with frantic eyes for Narses and Galla, you find him being carried by two of his soldiers back to the tent. You should follow, but you cannot bring yourself to do so.

You look down at your dress. Red, the color of a bride’s veil, stained with the blood of the man you just killed. Your ears ring, your eyes cloud with tears as you realize what you have done, and you scurry away from the corpse as if your breath cannot get into your chest because of your proximity to him…to it.

You know what you should feel, you know what a Priestess, a woman, ought to feel at the sight of death, you know. But dread and horror are not the only things you feel. A part of you is satiated, like a snake curling satisfied and vindicated after injecting its poison; you taste the blood and feel alive.

When you lift your gaze to the battle again, you catch the eyes of the Varangian King. You know who he is, you have heard the tales and even without the chariot he sits on you would still recognize the eyes of the man that rules over Kattegat.

Ivar the Boneless.

He looks at you for a few moments, and you fear he is to call for his men or kill you himself, but he doesn’t. A slow, cruel, ruthless smile starts curving at his bloodthirsty lips, and when he regards you, you feel he can see through your eyes and into whatever it is that made you kill that man.

He lifts his arm not on the reins, bloodied axe held in his hand and slowly, with the same terrifying grin still on his lips, the King points towards you and grants you a curt bow of his head. If it’s a recognition of your kill, a promise to kill you himself, or something else, you cannot know.

You scurry back to the woods, fearing an axe to your back that never comes.

____

Whatever advantage the Christians were so sure to have quickly dissolves like mist, and within days the Vikings push forward with no regard for the lines your people or your unwanted masters wanted to protect.

There’s three injured men under your care when you hear the warning that a group of enemies is coming your way. A quick glance towards Galla, the childhood friend that followed you from Eleusis into this cold hell lets her know what to do.

Her dark eyes fill with understanding before you can even utter a word.

“Lift them up, we are retreating.” She barks at the other soldiers, bow held tightly in her hand betraying her fear, her pain. The men accompanying her hesitate, looking at you for a second before turning to her.

��I may not be able to fight like a Strategus, but I can distract them enough for you to run.”

“Our people…” One of them starts, but you interrupt with a shake of your head, reaching forward with a courage you do not believe to truly possess and take his sword from its holster.

“Our people live on in you,” You promise, and even as your voice wavers you still try not to show how fear grips at your throat or how unbalanced you are with the new weight in your hands. Galla’s eyes lock with yours, and you give her a nod, “Go.”

I pray you find Sieghild on your way out of this slaughter.

“You better make it out alive.” She threatens in good will, and you find yourself smiling. Just before she is to take off with the others, you call out.

“Galla,” You hesitate, feeling like asking to deploy this would be an acceptance of your death. Still, you take a deep breath and say, “Once the dust settles, send some of your people to Thebes, Constantinople and Sparta.”

“What for?” She asks, but in her tone you can hear she understands your words: she is to protect your people, she is to lead them. Because you will not be alive to do so.

“You’ll need spies. When the time comes, you’ll know what to do with them.” You sentence, and after a moment of hesitation you hear the girl’s footsteps fading behind you.

Galla’s hoarse yells in Greek to call your people to retreat become the rhythm at which you let loose arrows to find the Viking warriors. You tell yourself it’s just like hunting deer, you tell yourself it is not men and women you kill. Brothers, sisters, friends, fathers, mothers, sons, daughters.

You tell yourself it is just like hunting, but the tears clogging at your throat and making pain and rage accompany your moves as you let the arrows loose show you that you don’t believe your own lies.

It doesn’t matter how fast you move, how efficient your shots are, there will always be more of them. And you know this, and fear has a cold grip on your heart, even as you continue trying to take out any straggler that chases after the retreating Greeks.

So, the bodies dropping and the injured yells bring the attention to you, and you buy Galla and the others as much time as you have arrows and legs to run on.

Running helps when the Vikings can be distracted by something else, but after you took down some of his countrymen, this warrior seems to only have eyes for you. You scramble to lift the sword you took from your warrior before they took off, and, cornered as you are, you are forced to face the offending Viking.

The Viking strikes first, but you block his attack with the sword. The blunt force of his swing makes it so that the axe stops just shy of the intended blow to your head, opening a deep cut on your forehead as it is slowed by the sword.

Wincing past the pain you hold your ground, facing the hungry gaze of the warrior with your own, although you are forced to close one of your eyes as the blood from the cut in your forehead starts dripping down your face.

The man’s attack has failed, but he smirks, though, before wrenching the weapon from your hands with a twist of his axe.

You can do nothing but stumble back, you Goddess’ name on your lips as you face him with wide eyes.

He mutters something in his own language before discarding your sword and moving to strike again. This time you are defenseless, and can only step back and try and dodge his continuous blows with increasing panic.

Blood, probably his own and his enemy’s, stains his mouth, his face, his hands. He still smiles, and you wonder if bloodthirst becomes more literal than what Sieghild explained in her tales of her people.

His movements stop suddenly, though, and he falls limply to the ground, a small axe protruding from the back of his head.

“I told you you’d need to know how to fight, little one,” Sieghild boasts as she approaches you. The axe leaving the dead man’s skull makes a horrible sound, but she’s not bothered by it, choosing instead to say, “Even you Greeks must see the advantage of fighting like a Viking.”

An arrow in his knee, you feel the iron piercing the muscle, the bone, the tendons. The edge of the shield breaking the bones in his face, the sound it makes. Screams of pain, that you silence with another arrow in the eye.

The King’s hungry smile when he spared you.

You shake your head, returning your thoughts back to the moment, and regard the woman in front of you with a smile.

“Galla told me you chose to stay behind.” She states, and years knowing her let you know of the reprimand shining past the gruff tone. Her hand, bloodied as it is, reaches for the cut in your forehead, inspecting it with the eyes of someone that saw countless wounds and fought in countless wars.

“I wanted to distract the warriors from the path they took.” You offer in explanation.

“For someone so…small you sure take a lot of risks, my child.” She sighs. You’re about to answer when the thrumming of the ground underneath your feet stops you. Sieghild’s movements stop, your breath dies in your lungs.

Bees swarming. You remember an Arab merchant telling you about Varangian armies, and he spoke of chaos and deadliness and bloodthirst. And as you watch the Varangians flank the battlefield, archers at the ready, warriors beating their shields, while the King that crossed the sea to assist his brother commands them to hold with a single gesture; you cannot help but think why didn’t the merchant talk about the grace of it all, the beauty in the blood.

“That boy carries his father’s cleverness with him. And his mother’s favor.” Sieghild mutters in the strange calm that settles as Ivar the Boneless and his brothers taunt Stithulf, dare him to continue the fight and face certain death or retreat.

“You knew that before.”

“So did you. You tried to warn Narses against facing him, little one.” She says, and the name makes a pit of guilt and grief form in your heart.

“Maybe my warnings are the reason he is dead now.” You bite out, voice quivering and eyes burning.

The shieldmaiden turns to you, lips parted and eyes wide. You offer her a nod and a tight-lipped smile, a small sign that it is okay, that…that it is Fate.

You promised Narses you’d kill him yourself for sending your people to die, and grief and pain do not stray you from that resolve. He sentenced your people to die at the hands of these Varangians, it is only right he leads them to the Underworld.

It doesn’t help the pit of pain and absence and fear and cold that forms at your chest, but…but it makes it easier to burden.

Murmured words in Norse startle you out of your thoughts, and you find Sieghild’s eyes still on you, expression still stunned and in a mix of awe and terror.

“When the last of the chains of nostalgia fades away even as she clutches it in her arms.”

“What did you say, mother?” You ask, taking a small step closer and looking into her eyes searching for any answer.

But the shieldmaiden is quick to put on a smile on her face,

“You told me before you had no interest in what Lady Freyja has to tell me, little one.” She mocks, but there’s a shadow in her expression, a strange darkness looming behind her eyes.

A familiar one.

“You are the one that taught me-…”

“I taught you to be your own woman!” The Varangian roars, and for the first time you realize exactly the kind of fire the women from her homeland have, that made them capable and free. “I taught my daughter better than this!”

“What choice do I have? We need the support from Narses’ army, we need someone to lead the men into battle the way I know will grant us victory!”

Two long strides, and the tall and imposing shieldmaiden is standing before you, a mix of reluctant softness and angry stoicism in her inked face.

“You fight. You fight against the notions these men have about you, you fight against that boy that only listens to what you have to say when you promise him love in exchange,” Her green eyes burn into yours, “You fight, little one. That’s what I taught you to do, what you were born to do.”

“Narses is a good man, mother. I will not fight him.” You reply, as calmly as you can even as your chest caves under a strange pressure, as evenly as you can even if the words leaving your lips taste like lies.

“You wouldn’t give your love without a fight though, minn dóttir.” Her hand grasps at your chin, and there’s a strange storm in her gaze, “I won’t lose my daughter to that boy’s whims.”

“I am not lost to any man.”

Her lips curve into a smile, a little savage, a little Viking.

“I know. You are my daughter, after all.”

“He was a good man, mother.” You offer quietly, and even if the binds to Narses, the binds you set on yourself and your mother hated the most, are gone, there’s still the same dark desperation, that same stubbornness you saw in her eyes that day you told her about your choice to marry him.

“Not good enough,” Is all she replies, and her eyes focus somewhere past the two of you, on the center of the battlefield where everything seems to have stopped. Sieghild sighs, “And your Gods and mine know that, little one. Your Mistress may have touched your soul, but Freyja lays claim to your heart.”

With your eyes on the thick of battle, you watch Stithulf and his trusted men lay down their weapons, and slowly retreat. You have been defeated.

____

“I told you only death would follow,” You say, your back against the foot of a table as you sit on the cold ground, your bloodied hands in your lap, motionless. You allow yourself a small laugh, manic and broken as it is, “You fought for so long, sacrificed so much, and you couldn’t even make the Varangian King bleed.”

You followed the Saxons back to their decadent city, and now sit past their walls awaiting the death that will follow. The city may have held for long enough that the Saxons could secure an escape, back when your people were with them and they didn’t have more corpses than soldiers.

But now, now it is just a matter of time before the Varangians return to finish it all.

Stithulf turns to you, cold fury shining past his gaze, but you hold his stare. The man walks over to you, armor rustling and making a sound that rings in the ears that have heard nothing but war for so long now.

He bends down to be at your level, face close to yours and lips set on a snarl.

“You ordered your people to pull back.” He accuses, but you shrug in response.

The pretense of what a good little fucking woman you ought to be to make these fools content with their idea of supremacy is long gone from your mind. You will die without masks, and if it means earning a few deserved hits from these Saxons for not shutting your mouth, then so be it.

“It was never our war, Christian.”

“Where have they gone to!?” He asks, ignoring your words. His fascination with how the Greek forces work shines through his bloodthirst and anger as he regards you. You know the reason why he went to Narses for an allegiance in the first place is because of the tactics, the fighting style, of your people; and you know he longed to make them a part of his own army.

But you will leave your own under the boot of a Christian the day Persephone calls for your soul to become one of her Furies.

“You will never find them.” You promise through a tired and battle-worn smile, morbidly delighting yourself in the way he seems to grow more enraged.

“How are you so certain?”

“The Varangians, Vikings, will find us first. They will kill us all, and you know this.” You sentence, standing up. You cannot help it when your eyes fixate themselves on the drying blood staining your hands.

You wish you could say most of it was Christian, or even Varangian.

But no, the blood of Greeks stains your hands. The blood of thousands, even if only less than eight hundred died today.

“And why are you so certain?”

“If you had retreated before that King came from across the sea-…”

“Narses told us your mother is Viking, how are we certain you did not plan this, plan to betray us?” One of his trusted men speaks out, limping from his place by the war table. You watch the deep and bloodied gash in his thigh, wondering why that old man survives being incapacitated while in battle but Narses is to fall.

You shake your head mutely before offering him a hollow chuckle.

“Me betraying you would imply I ever faked loyalty for you, or pretended to care for your survival.”

“You live, witch. Any sane man would question why.”

“You think…what? That I have helped any of the sons of Ragnar defeat you?” You let out a small laugh. “No, I did not. I will not let you blame me for your own weakness.”

You move to leave the tent, but Stithulf’s hand wraps around your arm. His voice is low when he speaks.

“If you tell your soldiers to fight with us, I can-…”

“I am not Narses, you cannot fool me with empty promises,” You interrupt, wrenching your arm from his grasp. Less than two hundred Greek warriors still remain in this city, and the Saxon wants still for every last drop of their blood. “The Greeks that remain here will not die quietly, but do not fool yourself into thinking you can ever command them.”

He stalks even closer, looming over you with enraged factions, and you cannot help the pang of fear that the murderous intent in his eyes sends through you.

His sword leaving its holster startles the room of men into silence, and you feel their attention set on the two of you. The blade finds a home right under your chin, piercing mildly at the soft skin.

Your breath quickens in fear, and when you swallow past your dry throat you feel the tip of the sword inflicting sharp pain in your neck.

Stithulf smiles darkly, “I could kill you now and leave them leaderless, heathen.”

But you refuse to let him see the fear in your eyes, instead promising, “Make me a martyr and you will not survive the night, Christian. The Greeks will kill and die for me.”

Even as you leave the tent behind, you hear the heavy footsteps of the Saxon behind you. A call of your name, and you stop. Not your title -Anassa, Hiereiai-, not an insult -heathen, pagan-, not your lineage -Daughter of Athens, Daughter of Sparta-. Your name.

“If you wanted to kill me you would have done so in front of your men.” You state without turning around, and the Christian reaches your side with his sword holstered.

“I don’t want to kill you,” He insists, shaking his head, “But I should do it regardless. You are a smart woman, which makes you dangerous.”

Not even a muzzle would keep your next words from leaving your lips, “Dangerous? Is a man dangerous for being knowledgeable?”

“If he has nothing to lose, like you, yes.”

“What are you saying, Stithulf?”

The Saxon sighs, an act of regret and humanity you don’t believe for a moment.

“I’m saying you should know that you have forced my hand, Greek, that I had every intention to have you wage war alongside us, had you chosen to do so.

_____

Hi, I’m kinda amazed you got this far down lol, but thank you so much for reading! This is one of the first projects in a while that I am really loving to write, and I hope you like it!

Please let me know what you think, I am one needy fuck when it comes to feedback :)

[secret-time-is-here]

An Error's Journey

Chapter 35

Previous - First - Next

He almost forgot how rewarding it felt to destroy things, the pattern of peacefully killing off the monsters and letting the world’s Frisk suffer in eternity of being pulled apart by the void as he destroyed everything else. The quick deaths of monsters still hurt his soul, but the human’s screams always lightened his mood. Once the world was empty-aside from himself and the human, he could let his guard down and get to the roots of the problems, pulling up his screens and slowly sending program after program to eat away at the world as he disintegrated the larger pieces. It could nearly be described as lifting a weight off his shoulders, although what that weight is, Error could never figure out.

Ink was slow to show up this time, and seemingly watched from afar for a while, Error keeping a hidden window on the other to watch his back. Still, as the world was slowly finished Ink watched on, not intervening. Sadly, he finished off the last major building, and his programs quickly ate away at the ruble. He knew he would regret it later, but silently, he sat down next to Ink. Relaxing in silence and watching as the void slowly ate everything until it was just the small island of grass they sat on left. It almost looked like the save screen…

“I don’t get it.” Ink suddenly spoke

“Get what?”

“I mean, it’s been a while since you destroyed anything… and creating just seemed to make my ribcage feel heavier...”

“Still not understandin’?”

“It’s weird. I don’t get it… do you have a similar feeling? I’d guess it’d be your soul for you… like your soul is being crushed when there’s a lot of universes and like it’s being pulled apart when there’s not a lot in the multiverse?”

“Yeah, I just learned ta ignore it for the most part… destroying today actually lightened the load ta say.” Error shrugged, “Wanna ditch this place so my programs can get the last of it?”

“Sure.” Ink smiled, a tired look on his face, and suddenly Error noticed the bags under his eyes and how pale his bones looked. “...and uh, could you destroy another? Ribs still feeling a lil’ crushed.”

“Wow, never thought I’d hear that one from the glorious creator.” Error rolled his eyes with a teasing smile, but begrudgingly open a portal to a glitched-out world that been needing to be taken care of.

Again, the same routine-except Ink stuck to the shadows as Error killed off the monsters, and the creator only showed himself again when the human had been wrapped up and trapped. “Gimme a moment, gotta destroy these bigger buildings.” The other nodded, and surprisingly, joined in. His paint a great way to compress the buildings for him to destroy with his blasters. After a good amount of work, they sat down on the side of the demolished road, watching as the programs ate away at everything once more.

“Thanks, Error. For both today and yesterday.”

“Yesterday?”

“Yeah, Reaps and I usually have a good handful of trouble at the coffee shops we visit, so we’ve been hopping around a lot.” Ink spoke softly, seeming as sorrowful as he could. Error tried not to let the anger get the best of him.

“What?” He practically snarled.

“Reaper and I usually aren’t allowed in coffee shops- Death well, because he’s death, and places don’t wanna deal with me so...”

“Fuck them. Ccino’s a cool guy, plus he’s always changing up his menu, so I doubt ya will grow bored.” Error relaxed back into the grass, “I knew even Omega has its prejudices but fuck-I didn’t think they’d go as far as to deny you service. Surprised Death didn’t complain about it ta me.”

“Well, from what I know, you have been pulling away a bit… and ya got enough on your plate apparently.” Ink shrugged, “‘Course he didn’t give details, but he did say you’re taking care of a lot of people, gonna guess ‘the boys’ are included in that.”

“Pft-heheh, yeah, they’re a bunch a’ idiots, but they’re my idiots... Shit-” Error jumped up, pulling up a few screens.

“What?”

“Forgot to visit the Chara’s-” And according to the calendar he had for the place, he hasn’t visited in months.

“You take care of the Chara’s-?”

“Yeah, if ya wanna keep talking, I recommend ya follow me.” Error rushed, opening a portal to Ccino’s world, Ink hopping up and walking through with him. He’d go to Omega, but he’d rather Ink not know about him being Lapse yet.

He had thought about it ages ago, close to after he grew close to them-but never had the gold available to do it. With the funky way time passed in the Charas dimension, with it being connected to the antivoid, he tried to visit at least weekly, but with everything going on it slipped his mind easier than he would like to admit.

They didn’t need anything fancy, but getting a phone would be good-he could spend some time tweaking with the code while he visited so it’d actually work cross-universe and then give it to Intent or Dest. He was quick to pull Ink along to the first store that caught his eye and avoided Ink’s stare as he pulled out his heavy bag of gold and bought a phone. He didn’t even bother to let Ink question anything as he pulled him along to a general store and bought more than enough chocolate.

Finally, he pulled Ink into an alley, and opened up a portal to the Chara’s, letting Ink jump through before him.

Stepping through after that rush was like a breath of fresh air, the open expanse of white so underwhelming compared to that of the bustling street they had just been on. His mind clouded with an unnatural calm, and he had to remind himself to shake off the feeling. He was living healthy again, not going back to the antivoid.

The door of the house boomed open, and before he could even get out an apology he was covered in little humans. Intent and Dest ran out after them.

“Error! Where in God's name have you been?!” Intent waved through the sea of bouncing little kids, “EY! Brats! Inside! I gotta interrogate Gramps.”

“No matter how many times you explain it-I still don’t know what you’re talking ‘bout when ya say ‘God’s name’.” Error joked, doing his best to relax as the little ones crawled off of him. He could practically feel Ink’s confused stare-thankfully Intent had yet to notice him. They were far too busy glaring at him-ushering the children back inside with Dest.

With all the little ones back inside, that’s when the yelling started.

“Puncle- what. The. FUCK!” Intent screamed, “IT’S BEEN MONTHS!”

“Yeah, I know now.” Error pulled out the phone he had bought, quickly opening up a panel to change its code, “Moon’s been fretting over me, worried I’d go back to the Antivoid… and this place is connected to the Antivoid so… it doesn’t excuse anything-” Error pulled the bags of chocolate out of his inventory, “And the chocolate doesn’t either,” With the re-coding finished, he handed the phone off to Intent, “And same with the phone, but I’m hoping it’ll be a good apology and a way for ya to contact me next time I forget to visit.”

“...you...” Intent looked at the phone and then back up to Error, “...You’re a fucking idiot, Error.”

“I know. ‘S why I fit so well with ya lot.” Intent cracked a smile.

“Alright, but you gotta bring us some of Ccino’s scones to fully be pardoned.” They smiled slyly, crossing their arms.

“Pft, I’ll do ya one better-I’ll make ya a batch a’ them now.” Error turned to Ink, “Sorry ‘bout all that.”

“Wait-” Intent finally noticed Ink, “WHY THE FUCK DID YOU LET HIM IN HERE?!”

“Here we go again...” Error rolled his eyes, and Ink had to stifle his laughter.

-----

With the final stitch done, he tied off the knot, looking back at his work. He had to burrow himself away in his room to get most of it done-didn’t want any of the gang to see him making it, but now, Dream’s new outfit was complete. It mixed and matched a lot of the old qualities he had, but also gave a new palette of color and some new additions.

Firstly, the number one thing Dream hated was his full body suit-always difficult to get on and just a pain if it fell during battle-since it had no sleeves. So, they switched it out for a black turtleneck and black tights separately, pulling the teal from his most recent outfit to stripe the edges and sides much like the stereotypically shorts most Sans’ have. Over his turtle neck was a thick fawn-colored nearly corset-like vest, something to protect his soul and help with any injuries. The complicated dark brown lacing was easy once you learned it, a win for Dream, and an effective way to keep himself safe from all the knives the gang used with how tough the leather was. Over that was a peanut brown overcoat that was held in place with a wide belt. The belt was made with a similar leather to his vest, decorated with the tassels of his scarf, and finished with the buckle of his old belt. To finish off the new outfit, he also had calf-high leather combat boots.

The vest had been the most irritating to do, considering how tough the leather was, but at last, he had finished putting it together, setting in the top of the box he had put the rest of Dream’s outfit in-aside from the boots, which he had specially made elsewhere and were placed in their own box. He carefully topped the box off and then wrapped a ribbon around it. It would be a difficult walk with both boxes down to Dream’s office, but he has a feeling it’ll be worth it to see Dream’s gratitude.

After all, he has to get close to his teammate.

He was quickly let in by the secretary and agreed not to warn Dream. Leaving it a surprise. He even saw Ink along the way to the office, the other seeming to be doing much better with more worlds destroyed. His bones were not as pale, the bags under his eyes disappearing. The other asked to join in with the surprise, he too was excited for Dream to get a proper wardrobe change.

Ink knocked on the door for him, and Dream’s voice called out: “Come in.”

“Hiya bud!” Ink skipped into the office, blocking Dream’s few.

“Ink...? What are you planning?” Dream slowly set his pen down from his paperwork

“Me-? Planning-?! Pftt-hahaha, you’re silly Sunny!” Dream’s blush dusted his cheekbones, and he pouted slightly.

“Ink, I really do love you, but you have far too many tells when you are planning something.” Dream sighed, setting aside the papers he had in front of him. “If you are going to steal me away from work you might as well do it now.”

“Well… I’m not stealing you-” Ink hopped up on the desk, sitting in the cleared spot, “But Eldeem sure is!”

“Eldeem?” Ink moved his body out of the way, showing Lapse standing with both boxes in his hands awkwardly. “Lapse! Oh… El-Dee-M.” Dream rolled his eyes, “Very clever Inky.” Ink leaned and kissed the top of Dream’s skull, coloring the other’s cheeks with even more gold.

Dream got up from his seat and took the boxes from Lapse’s hands.

“Hope you like them, the vest was annoying to sew together.” Error chuckled as Dream’s eyes seemed to glow when he opened the first box with all the clothes, taking them out one by one and taking the time to admire each and every single one.

“...I love it.” Dream uttered after a time.

“Yeah, they look amazing, Lapse!” Ink cheered, “I’ll have to give ya a call whenever I want a new outfit.” The artist winked, and Lapse rolled his eyes with a smile-Ink’s expression broke a moment, but then he seemed to ignore whatever revelation he had.

“I will be right back-” Dream excused himself, stepping into the adjacent bathroom to change.

Silence carried on as the sound of rustling increased from the other room.

“So… you and Dream are close?” Lapse eventually questioned, to which Ink shrugged.

“Platonically, yeah. Dream keeps most everyone at a distance, so I try to remind him I’m always here.” Ink sighed, a lost look in his eyes as he stared into the distance, “...Death and I talked over it a lot, so he’s okay with Dream joining us-but with how much Sunny works himself. I don’t think he’ll ever stop and actually live until there’s peace in the multiverse… and as a survivor-you can guess when that’s gonna happen, heh...” Ink chuckled awkwardly.

“Alright- does it look good?” Dream stepped out of the bathroom, slightly taller now from his boots.

“Ya look badass, Goldy.” Ink smiled, whistling low.

“...I will excuse your language for once-and just this once.” Dream spoke sternly but smiled anyhow. “Lapse?“

“Gotta agree with Ink, you look ready for battle. The darker colors make ya look old and wise.”

“Good, maybe for a change Ink won’t be calling me babyface.” Dream huffed, glaring at Ink. Although Error couldn’t deny that when the positive pouted, he did look to have a prominent babyface.

“Well, I am older.”

“By maybe a few centuries!” Dream stomped his foot like Papyrus would, “I am still centuries-old, Ink! 500 years!”

“Not as old as I am~” Ink sang cheekily, a Cheshire grin plastered on his skull.

Error couldn’t help but laugh at their antics, oh how he wished he wasn’t undercover right now. He could easily out win both of them.

-----

“Error…?” A deep charming voice called from the doorway of his room, “When did you return?”

“Not too long ago ‘Mare, well, at least to me...” Error shrugged, “What’s up?”

“Ru...” Nightmare spoke softly, worry dripping from his tone. “You’re hiding something. Your soul is heavy with guilt.”

Error sighed and Nightmare walked over, avoiding the strewn materials leftover from making Dream’s outfit. “We’re a team, right? Just as you told me?”

“...yeah,” He choked out. Nightmare sat down next to him, and Error stared down at the ground.

“That means you don’t have to deal with this- you don’t have to keep everything to yourself.”

“...You’re not going to be happy.”

“Oh? Really?” Nightmare’s tone turned playful, “What is so terrible? Hmm?”

“It has to do with Dream.”

The tension nearly felt crushing at that moment. The silence was louder than any of the voices in the Antivoid. He felt Nightmare grab for his hand, and he clutched the other’s in return. Nightmare’s hand was shaking. He could see Nightmare begin to stare at the ground as well.

“...ah.” Nightmare finally composed himself, “I see...” the other held on stronger, “Well… hehe, you weren’t wrong when you said I wasn’t going to be happy.”

Error only hummed in response.

Nightmare took a deep breath, and the shaking seemed to lessen. “What… Why...” Nightmare took another few deep breaths, and his shaking stilled, his hand wound tight around Error’s, “...What about Dream?”

“Core gave me three windows.” Error reminded, “One of a sketchy world… probably Ink.” Error confessed, “Another of a figure cloaked in black… Death.” Error finally turned to look at Nightmare, “And between those a tree on a hill, with a dryad under it. Yet with those three windows, there was four people to find.”

Nightmare seemed to choke on his air.

“...Remember the other day, when I blacked out? You were teaching me your scone recipe?”

“Y-... yeah.” Nightmare’s words were shaky, and his hand mirrored them.

“I saw you and Dream in a brief memory… Sitting under the tree.” Error watched as Nightmare’s whole form seemed to crumble, “Why’d you hide it?”

“...It’s pretty obvious I’m not proud of my past.” Nightmare seemed to give up trying to stay strong, and let his despair show,

“...he’s long gone now, though; and I have rebuilt my life the way it was meant to be, with new friends and dare I say you as well.”

Nightmare sighed, “She is not me… I was never meant to be her… I get we were supposed to be opposites-but why opposites in everything?”

“I’m not mad about you not coming out to me. You have every right to keep that to yourself. Why’d you hide being from the same AU as Dream?” Error asked, waiting patiently.

“...I know it was important. I just… I couldn’t. It hurts to think about anything from back then… even nearly 500 years later Dream can’t bear to use ‘he’ when referring to me.”

Error let go of Nightmare’s hand, pulling the other close into a hug instead. The other silently sobbing in his hold.

“‘S okay, Moon. I got ya...” He spoke as softly as he could, cradling the other impossibly close.

“Don’t let go… please… don’t be mad...”

“I’m won’t ‘Mare. Don’t worry, I’ll always be here… promise.”

-

All characters belong to their respected owners

If you're a lil confused, Night's ftm trans :) (Yes this was planned, and if you look back Dream's only ever used they for NM, or called him by name. I do plan for more reveals like this ;) )