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impactedfates · 1 month

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Letters Unsent - Genshin + HSR Boys x GN! Reader

★ Summary: After their death, you find a letter. A letter he wrote. A letter he wrote for you, a letter he wished he could’ve given to you personally. A letter describing his feelings.

☆ Characters Included (Separate): Diluc, Wriothesley, Cyno, Argenti, Jing Yuan + Gepard

★ Genre/Trope: Angst + Hurt/No Comfort

☆ Warnings: Major Character Death (Not the Readers)

★ Extra: Angst is fun, angst is nice :)) // Might make another part with different characters if this does well // Not fully proof read // Motivation came back cuz of sad tunes/hj

He said he'd be back, that it'll be quick. Despite your worry, you knew he was strong, so he'd be able to protect himself right? So you trusted him. Trusted him so much that when his co-worker showed up to your door with an expression you couldn't exactly read, you were confused. It was about him but...he was fine right? Then why were they telling you he had passed? The injuries he sustained was...to much for his body to handle? The healers couldn't help him? But...he said he'd be back...you were snapped out of your thoughts when they handed you a letter with your name on it. "I think he knew he wouldn't be able to make it...so...he wanted you to have this...even if he couldn't hear your answer"

"To My Dearest,

If I'd ever be lucky to even call you that. Although this isn't ideally how I wanted to do this. I believe I can only get these things on paper, it's much too difficult otherwise. I was never good with words so I hope this alternative is alright for you.

Ever since the day I first laid eyes on you, I knew you were different. Not in a bad way. It took me way too long to figure out the reason for this was due to the fact I loved you.

I loved seeing your smile.

Hearing your laugh.

Loved the small talk we had that would end up with me taking you home. You made me feel something I didn't think I would ever feel, and I'm unsure if I even deserve it.

If I even deserve you.

Whether or not you feel the same way, I hope we can stick together as long as time allows us.

Sincerely

Diluc."

"To Y/N

Hope you're doing well, life in Meropide is still as dull as ever. Well, unless you decide to visit, you really do light up the room when you come by don't you? Or maybe that's just for me.

Anyways, preferably I would be telling you this in person, but more work has piled up. That's also why our little tea sessions have to be put on hold for now. Don't worry, as soon as this all clears up and I investigate this one area, then we can go back to the usual.

I have this one blend I think you'd really like!

Anyways, enough beating around the bush.

I like you.

Like like you.

I love you.

So much.

I can't even begin to describe how much I love you, and even if I did I feel you'd be gagging at how cheesy I was being haha!

But really, I love you so much. I want to be with you, of course I understand if you don't feel the same. But Sigwinnie would have my head if I postponed this confession any longer.

I hope to see you again after my work.

Yours Truly

Wriothesley"

"Hello Y/N

I never thought I'd be writing this kind of letter in my free time. Unfortunately for me, it seems as though fate likes making things harder for me and whenever I want to even try to talk to you about this, it's much more difficult than it was when I practised in the mirror.

Or...

Well...

Practised to Tighnari.

We can ignore that for now though as I'm still trying to put this all together in words.

I would let you borrow my TCG set, you can use it as you please and I'd even let you touch my limited edition cards.

If that's not making any sense then how about a joke?

How does a fruit confess?

They say "Olive You"

Get it, because an olive is a type of fruit, and olive sounds like "I love"

I love you"

"My beloved rose

As much as I'd love to tell you all these words in person, my search for Idrila is still ongoing and I am unsure when I'll be able to see your beautiful face once again.

Ever since my eyes laid on your beauty, I thought I had found Idrila herself, but once I got to know you. Even if you weren't the Goddess, you could almost rival her.

The sparkle in your eyes.

The pretty little smile.

Your wonderful personality.

All those things you think are flaws? I love each and everyone of them. They are not flaws to me and it pains me knowing you think of yourself like that.

Once we meet again, I want to make sure you know how deserving you are of these words, how your 'flaws' aren't flaws and how much I love every bit of you.

Though I am aware I find many things worthy of praise. I want to let you know that you're different.

I don't just want to praise you, compliment you. I wish to love you, hold your hands and protect you with my life, no matter what it takes.

I love you so much, and if I could be so lucky to call you mine. Well, I think I'd be the happiest man alive.

I will return soon,

Signed

Argenti"

"Morning, Afternoon or Night

I'm not too sure when the Cloud Knight will give this to you, or when I'll give this to them. Whatever the case, I won't beat around the bush too much.

I love you.

Nothing could compare the feeling in my heart when I see you.

The smile that will never fade as long as you're there by my side.

You are just amazing. In all my years of living, never would I have thought to have met someone as perfect as you.

Even Fu Xuan herself can see just how enamoured I am for you, although for her. She's been using it as an advantage to do work.

'If you finish now you can see them quicker'

'How would they feel knowing that you're not working?'

'Stop dozing off or they won't come to see you ever again!'

I must admit, they all do work. Even if in hindsight, not only would I still see you even with work uncomplete, I'll see you plenty of times and more to come but I don't think you care all too much about my sleep.

But I digress.

I hope this letter finds you well, take as much time as you need to consider my words and think about your own feelings.

I'll be waiting where I always am.

Jing Yuan"

"Dear Y/N

Aeons this is embarrassing. But it would be even more embarrassing if Serval kept teasing me about this. I've been putting this off for so long, worried about how you'd react.

Your answer.

And if this would change your view on me...but you're not that kind of person. I know you're not. And after a bit of thinking, to save me from stumbling on my words. I decided to write a letter.

Serval should be the one giving this to you, so I hope she didn't say anything to you, I would nearly die of embarrassment if she did. Anyways!

So...I know it's probably not much hoping Serval wouldn't say something actually, knowing her, she gave it away with one sentence but...

I like you, a lot. More than you could ever know.

And I'm more than happy to talk to you about this in full once I'm back from my mission.

I can only pray you feel the same, but even if you don't.

I hope we stay friends.

Until next time,

Gepard"

WOOO FINALLY GOT THIS DONE AFTER FOREVER.

Sorry if any characters are OOC, I tried my best with writing what I think they'd write in a confession letter, but I hope you enjoyed this anyways!

#Diluc x Reader #Diluc x You #Wriothesley x Reader #Wriothesley x You #Cyno x Reader #Cyno x You #Argenti x Reader #Argenti x You #Jing Yuan x Reader #Jing Yuan x You #Gepard x Reader #Gepard x You #hsr x reader #Genshin x reader #hsr imagines #hsr x you #genshin x reader #honkai star rail x you #genshin impact x you

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mellowwillowy · 3 months

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𝐓𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐜

4𝒌 𝑳𝑰𝒇𝑬 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒋𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝑪𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

"You've done well," your husband rubbed circles on the back of your hands as you stared into his emerald eyes hollowly, "you are a brave soul. Now, let's retreat ourselves to our deserved slumber, shall we?"

Why and how did it end up to this?

The ship was sinking, you could feel the ground shaking and yet no frantic screaming was heard. Your husband had a premonition, a disaster was about to happen and unfortunately enough, you overheard him confirming his suspicion with one of the naval's officials.

He did not expect you to slip out of the festive to find him sealing both his fate and yours, sinking down in the dark and cold ocean.

Naturally, you were filled with a sense of dread. You feared that he might be right, but you hoped against hope that he wasn't. You had heard the noise of the shaking ground and the crew's chaotic conversations, but you tried to stay calm.

"Then, could it be that the shake we felt earlier was...?"

Your husband immediately whisked you away from the dock, guiding you toward your supposed stateroom. There, he sat you down on the bed while he rummaged through his bag, fishing for a glass bottle of what you assumed to be your sleeping pills.

You were filled with uneasiness as the reality of the situation slowly dawned on you yet his emerald eyes eased you down as he circled the back of your hands. He lowered himself onto the ground on one knee, looked up at you, and spoke softly"Can you hear me, dear? Or is your heart thumping so loud to the point you can hear blood swirling in your eardrums?"

You gave him a meek node and he shushed you, his thumbs never stopped circling the back of your hands.

"I have just the perfect solution for this but I'd need your cooperation."

He held out the glass bottle for you to inspect. A plain white glass that was unmistakenly belonged to you.

"I'd need you to calm down and sleep for me. The moment you woke up, you'd be safe and sound again, I promise."

You shook your head at him, "Are you implying that I'd die in my sleep?"

Yulian gave you a gentle smile that reached his eyes, "As much as I fancy the idea of having my final rest with you in this stateroom, I'm afraid I'd rather rest with you every day for I am a man of avarice."

Yulian clasped off the lid of the glass bottle and poured out 4 pills for you to drink, "This, is the only cooperation I need from you."

"And what would you do while I snore peacefully in my sleep?" "I had secured a safe boat for both of us." "Then you shouldn't have me done this."

Yulian inched his face closer to yours, "While you do have a point, my dear, I'd rather not have you take in the sight of... humans' true nature. I'd rather not have your heart thumped in uncertainty as we lowered and waited for the rescue team to arrive,"

And he'd rather not let you drown in guilt from the fact that he had taken another woman's and children's spot just to secure the two of you.

The realization that your husband was willing to do anything to ensure your safety began to sink in. Although the knowledge brought a sense of relief, it also brought a wave of guilt as he predicted.

"The night is cold and cruel, it'll be very dark and hollow, far from the word comfort. I just wish my lily-of-the-valley won't have to feel how cruel it is... I won't leave you sunk in the ocean, I won't stop embracing your body, so would you please do your husband a favor?"

You could hear his pocket watch ticking, you could hear the subtle musical instruments being played somewhere, and you could hear your husband's heartbeat matching your pace.

You gave him another meek nod and he smiled in relief, pills poured onto your palm as he stood up to bring a glass of water over to you. You swallowed it down with scrunched eyes, waiting for the effects to take in.

Yulian lowered himself again, rubbing circles with his thumbs,

"You've done well," you stared into his emerald eyes hollowly, throat swallowing a lump of anxiety and horror, "you are a brave soul. Now, let's retreat ourselves to our deserved slumber, shall we?"

Yulian positioned you to sleep on the comfortable bed, the blanket covering your body as he sat on the edge of the bed, eyes observing you while his hand patted your blanketed figure.

"Can you lay down with me too, dear?"

His eyes widened at your request yet despite his initial reaction, he didn't seem to be opposed to the idea. He rounded his way onto the bed, sinking the mattress as a new weight laid on it.

You turned to his side and locked gaze with him, "Good night."

"Good night, dear." He pulled you closer into his embrace and waited for the time to finally strike through the chaos that would ensue soon. Bribery, threat, and backings. If the naval officials failed to let him walk on land, his relationship with one of the nation's most feared Mafia Ringleaders would show them the way.

That alone was enough to kill 2 innocent lives.

****

This has actually been sitting in my drafts since I first watched Titanic (which is last year. I'm re-writing this prompt because, yeehe! 4k celebration!)

#Yulian the Corruption #Yandere x Reader #x GN Reader #LIfE Project #Yandere Imagines #Yandere Scenarios #Kaspar is the Homie ffs

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freestyle-crocodile-trashpile · 1 year

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A fate worse than death

Summary:Finding out why your call Death isn't as fun as hearing about it

Type:Scenario: 141 + Los Vaqueros X M!Reader

Version:Mw2

They were told that you could get your hands dirty. There's been jokes, about how to never mess with you. The people that knew you well watched their tongue and was extra careful around you then anyone else. The people that knew you well weren't scared of Ghost. Price was worried the first time you met Ghost. No one that knew how you fought would spar against you. They should have token the warning. The shadow company knew you, Shepherd knew you, Price, Graves, Alejandro, Laswell, All the leaders you've met. They knew you. Yet, with all that knowledge, knowing why you were called death they still fucked around and found out. Not Price or Alejandro or Laswell. But Graves. You were called Death, and when you hunted someone down people would tell them "A fate worse than death, is heading your way". You were labed as death and it'd be unfortunate to find out way first hand, not just hearing about it, cause when you hear about it, it's not as scary. It'll give you an imagine or a slight unsettling feeling stuck in your stomach for quite some time. A day. A month. Possibly a few minutes, or hours. Or even just a few seconds. But it never stayed long enough to make you permanently scared of someone, or something. So when watching you stand there, still, quiet, angry. It makes you wonder, what are you about to do. When your as well known as you are why would you just stand there. Some people slowly backed away, like Price and Alejandro. Ghost, Gaz, and Soap watched from their sniper positions. Rudy followed Alejandro, staying close behind. Laswall was trying to get insight of what's happening from Price. Graves was no where to be seen. But infront of you was a shadow company, holding his gun to your head, pressing to your head actually. You could see his shaking hands and all he could see were two eyes, that would probably be glowing red if they could. Your eyes said everything for you. You weren't happy, especially with a gun to your head. The shadow knew that he had a chance to run, to be safe away from you. But he didn't take the chance. He left it for his teammates who were long killed, him having no knowledge of that of course. Ghost had his scope on the man's head ready to shoot if needed, Gaz was watching a little closer with his sniper rifle same with Soap. Price didn't know exactly what was about to happen but he knew it wasn't gonna be pretty.

"Shoot him soldier!"

The shadow company soldiers shoulder radio went off, it was commander Phillip Graves. Who currently was watching from another place. No where near where the soldier was.

"You have the shot, Take it!"

Graves yelled again that's when the shadow made a grave mistake(get it?) He let go of his gun with one of his hands to respond to his commander. You seen the flick of regret in his eyes as you grabbed his gun, that was now only held by his weaker hand, and yanked it away from him. Instead of shooting him, you smashed the gun as hard as possible in the cheek bone, completely shattering the said bone. He fell back abit grabbing his face, you took that opportunity to smash the gun down on the top of his head, causing the gun to slightly crash his skull, but not enough to damage him to bad. But you didn't stop there. If you did he could have recovered with minor injuries. But no. You continued to smash the gun against his head until he fell all the way to the ground. Now standing over him breathing heavily you gripped the gun and looked at his thigns. Most people would have just killed him, but you? Your like a sloth bear, you inflict the most damage possible instead of killing. You smirked devilishly before repeatedly bashing his thign bone in, his femur bone the most painful bone in your body to break, also one of the strongest. You beat his leg with the butt of his gun watching as it slowly tore itself apart, his bone breaking more and more with every hit, his blood hitting your clothes, skin, shoes, gun, everything. Price covered his mouth horrified at the sight of blood, even though he's been in the military since he was sixteen he's never seen something like this. Alejandro couldn't look away, he didn't want to but it was hard to look away, and Rudy he stood there, gun at his feet, wide eyed as he thought stared. The snipers on the other hand couldn't see what was happening very well. The shadows screams echoed every second across the trees and large rocks surrounding him. You sudden stopped beating one of his legs but kept the gun digged inside of the area where a bone use to be, you looked in the man's eyes and smiled before moving to the other leg. If he survived, he wouldn't live much longer. You repeated the same process to his other leg this time a bit slower, just so he could feel it more. The shadow could feel his bone caving in on the bottom of his thign, he couldn't feel his other leg but he could feel the cold air hitting the inside of both of his thigns. Feeling the butt of the gun repeatedly hit his thign felt way worse than he could even imagine, his leg was turning to mush as you beat it with the steel gun. If you looked at his thigns with any light you'd see the way his muscle, nerves, veins even have caved in, you could see the way his bone broke and shattered due to direct contact. His muscles just looked like raw, boneless, chicken. A slightly brighter pink, covered in dark red blood causing you to not be able to see the pink muscle. The nerves sticking to muscle and bone as it was beaten done and destroyed by you, his viens also latching on to muscle and bone, just thicker and more noticeable than the white thin nerves. You can't see how all the muscles connected due to it being red gooey muse now. The man was only alive due to the adrenaline and pain running through his body. You backed away a bit and dropped the gun, looking at your work you turned your head to look at the three behind you. Price was horrified, slightly shaking, his hand covered his month as a instant reaction. He was like a deer in headlights. Alejandro had to turn around and throw up a couple time due to the bloody sighting. So he was hunched around a pile of puke turning his best to not turn around or puke again. Rudy had snapped out of it due to Alejandro puking. He had to stay strong for Alejandro.

"P...Please"

You turned your head back to look at the man.

"P..please j...just let me-me go..."

You leaned down and grabbed his hair pulling him up to look at you. Tilting your head you looked the shadow dead in the eyes with a look that could scare the devil. And smirked

"And how would you do that? Mm?"

The man only whined in pain as you dropped him. Chuckling you pressed your foot to the shadows head.

"Aww it was fun, but now it's your turn to sleep tight"

You then lifted your foot, bringing it down at a fast paste, the man moved as fast as he could. Grabbing a throwing knife and jabbing it into the sole of your shoe and foot, you let out a scream and you slightly jumped away from the man, causing him to flip himself around and drag himself. Not caring that the grass, the dirt, and small insects along with bacteria was getting into his busted open thigns, getting on his bloodly, beaten muscles. He was basically rubbing the, still intact, muscles and fibers into the disgusting earth below him. Causing infections and sickness to weld up in his opened legs. He thought he was getting far with slowly dragging himself away, but he didn't know or see you yank the knife out of the bottom of your foot. Throwing the knife into the man's shoulder you grabbed the knife ripping it out causing him to stop and scream due go the sudden pain in his shoulder, head dropping into his arm he tried to contain himself, you had other plans. You dropped to your knees, having them planted on both sides of him. Digging the knife slowly into the top of his back, you slowly pulled the knife towards your pelvis. Cutting him open all the way down his back. Once his back was cut open you reached your hands into his and gripped his now open skin, the inside was still tight, feeling the organs pressed against your fingers and knuckles. As quickly and hard as you could you pulled your hands up ripping his skin away from the tightness it was in before. Dropping his heavy skin to the ground you reached both of your hands in and grabbed a rib, holding the base of the ribcage you started to break every. Single. One. Using his screams and crying out as motivation to keep going once you broke last rib you stood up and pulled his head up with your now bloody hand. Laughing hysterically at the pained look on his face as you could tell he was zoning in and out of reality. Dropping his dropped his head and picked your foot up and dropping it down, repeatedly. You crushed his head like a balloon, it popped and blood went everywhere, the surrounding around was covered in blood, in beaten organs, and hungry insects. When you finally stepped away from the body you limped over to the others not daring to look back at the mess you've made. As the bugs start to eat the man enjoying the fresh and large meal, the others couldn't look you in the eye.

"Shall we get going then?"

You asked with a slight smile as you patted Price's shoulder and Alejandro's back you continued on. You four met up with the snipers who were confused. They couldn't see what was happening since the trees and the other three were covering it, Ghost could kinda see what happened since he was higher up then the other two but still didn't really know. So seeing your cover head to toe in someone else blood, a shaky and wide eyed Price, Alejandro covered in his own puked and Rudy holding Alejandro up, being his own source of strength currently. They were confused, very confused.

"Oh my, what happened?!"

Gaz was very worried and alittle scared, hes never seen his Captain so scared before. Soap could only stare at the people who he thought could never be scared. And Ghost was quiet, he knew you did something, not necessarily to them but infront of them, he knew it was because of you.

"Don't worry about it, we all got a helicopter to catch don't we?"

You said with a slight laugh before limping past them to the helicopter lending zone. The snipers were left confused but either way everyone got to the helicopter on time and went back to the base. Meanwhile Graves was staring at a black screen stunned, quite, as white as a ghost. He couldn't believe what he just seen. No, he refused to believe what he seen. It was from that point on no one who was a witness to what you did could look at you without removing that day, you had scared the Captian shitless and was seen as, The fate worse than death.

[A/n:If I'm being honest it's not as gruesome as I wanted. I hoped you enjoyed]

#cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod x male reader #cod mwii #cod x reader #call of duty mw2 #modern warfare #modern warefare ii #modern warefare 2 x reader

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hiwelcometothemonstersancturary · 3 months

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weñl since I'm new to the AU and already ate every post.... Could you drop some lore of The Prototype and his link to the toys? (especially with Catnap seeing as how he recently calls him "dad" but I wonder how before he allowed Theo to consider him a God and worship him)

For my AU, the Prototype was originally Elliot Ludwig himself. He had an adopted daughter and lost her due to an illness, and then had the brilliant idea to start dubiously ethical experiments in order to bring her back. He eventually volunteered himself to be the first human to become a toy, only to realize, far too late, that without him in charge mr. Harley "what is ethics if not another rule to break in the name of SCIENCE" Sawyer would go "what if i broke every single rule Elliot ever imposed on me". Also I have adopted @lassieposting's hc about Elliot being a military veteran, which is important for this because now this man feels like he, once again, is seeing a tragedy that should have never existed at ALL.

Prototype took care of little Theo/Catnap as if he were his own son (also taken from lassieposting because good headcanons are GOOD headcanons), and after the Hour of Joy and him realizing that the toys can't go outside without risking even more death and people hunting them, he taught Catnap how to hunt. After he learned how to look after himself Catnap became more independent, and Theo was always a kind of religious boy, and that combined with him seeing Prototype as a hero made him undergo the biggest catholic moment in the history of Playtime Co.

Prototype doesn't like being called a god, but Catnap doing that did help him impose more rules on the toys ("don't go outside so humans won't find us and capture us again", "don't torture each other even if you are really hungry", "if you see a human kill it and give it to me so we can all have food"). Unfortunately their distance grew as time went on, and Prototype just. Never actually tried doing anything to stop Catnap from being like That. Again, it was helping him, and he sees Catnap as the child he failed to protect, and he just never knew how to address the elephant in the room. This entire situation was 100% Prototype's fault for not attempting to sit down with Catnap and tell him to cut it off.

Prototype has a trillion communication issues, honestly. For this AU he helped deliver Poppy's call for help to the Player/Angel, not that she knew that, because he decided that everyone had enough. He wanted someone to save the toys, even if by "saving" it meant "killing them off", because Prototype figured it was better than being alive in that nightmare.

And then Angel saved Huggy, throwing Prototype's whole plan away.

And then Bunzo, the mini huggies, PJ Pug-a-Pillar, and then Mommy Long Legs, and then Miss Delight and Dogday, and then Catnap, even when the big feline begged Prototype to end his suffering. The Angel took care of all of them. They never dared leave anyone behind.

Prototype changed his plan for it to just be for him to die, because he caused everyone to become a toy. He deserved that fate more than anyone, at least in his eyes.

And then Angel convinced him to live. The deal they made was for Prototype to help them take care of everyone and stop anyone from ever find all the documentation about how the experiments were done, and only just enough info for the humans outside to know the toys are alive and were previously innocent children. After Angel finds a bigger house, Catnap convinces Prototype to come in with them, and he reluctantly agrees.

It'll be really funny when Angel realizes Poppy was Elliot's daughter, because our favorite porcelain doll does NOT know Elliot is the Prototype. Actually, NO ONE knows that, not even Catnap himself. When Angel finds out they DEMAND Prototype to talk to Poppy because what the HECK, you already failed to communicate with one kid and now you fail to communicate with ANOTHER?

Anyways, family drama aside, Angel and Prototype unironically make a very good parent duo. Prototype knows how the toys work, while Angel knows how to be gentle and assuring. They teach the other a lot about what to do, but the majority of the toys are too afraid to talk with Prototype to learn that he's Father Material If You Ignore The Communication Issues. Catnap can confirm!

#poppy playtime #experiment 1006 #poppy playtime prototype #poppy playtime angel #poppy playtime player #poppy worldwide #save everyone au #there's so many jokes about angel and prototype being parents that i thought about #esp after catnap starts calling angel mom when everyone knows he calls prototype his dad #poppy straight up says “oh congratulations on officially being called mom by everyone!!!!! please don't refer to prototype as our dad”#angel: “how about i do that”#poppy: “HE'S NOT MY DAD! YOU ARE MY DAD AND MY MOM!”#(two weeks later and they discover prototype is indeed poppy's dad)#(cue to angel saying “can i say i told you so?” (they never told her so)

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demonslayedher · 4 months

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The Taisho Secret canon content regarding The Legend of Zenitsu has unfortunately made me have to give up beloved concepts in this future!Zennezu headcanon post. Most specifically, Old Man Zenitsu's with a mustache, because Word of Gotouge says he never grews facial hair. Zenitsu is probably far more disappointed than I am about this.

But also, it has all given me a much deeper headcanon about "The Legend of Zenitsu" being a bonding experience in their marriage, for Nezuko is a big fan, like so, what with Nezuko being a willing model for Zenitsu's praise-worthy paintings.

And is my brain spinning headcanons again? Yeah.

Zenitsu wished he could rub it in Tanjiro's face that he got a book deal. Not on everything, just on "The Demon Slaying Arc ~Fated Encounters~," "The Heavenly Maiden Arc ~I Am Willing To Die For You~," and "The Life of the Man Who Loved The Spirit of the Plum Tree Arc." No one else deserved to know "The Tastiness of Nezuko-chan's Cooking" anyway, for Zenitsu had described it too well and it would be like sharing his wife with a bunch of slimy readers. Bad enough that he still had to share with Inosuke all the time.

But Tanjiro didn't rub it in. He smiled and made as kind a sound as even, and congratulated him.

Maybe Tanjiro had grown too mild to say or feel anything more than that.

Because Zenitsu had a publisher and small fan base, he got paid a small advance to keep writing. Not even to stop going to an office job in town, if he wanted to to keep spoiling Nezuko with nice things. The stroke to eager made him write "The Beautiful Swordswoman Nezuko Arc" in one night, but "The Golden Dragon Wandering Alone Arc ~Go And Rescue Nezuko!~" was one he slogged through. It was getting to be a handful, going to work and raising a kid living up to expectations now that people had them of him. It felt good at first, but it made the writing less fun.

His heart was hardly in it when he wrote the "Botamochi from Zenitsu Arc." The sales tanked, and Zenitsu's publisher didn't bother him when he said aside his pen for a while. It was a long while, and there were other things going on anyway.

Not long after Tanjiro died, Nezuko caught a flu that was going around. It honestly made Zenitsu a little glad to have an excuse to leave his kid with Aoi for a while so that he could have Nezuko to himself while she was contagious. He didn't need anyone's help to take care of him, because every cell down to his soul cared only about how he might pamper and comfort her.

"Nezuko-chan, come on and drink a little. It'll make your throat feel better."

"I can't. I don't want to," she moaned. Tears escaped her hopeless eyes. She still must have felt so gutted, and Zenitsu knew he could do little to fill her for the time being. Some of that hopeless look must had been from thinking she'd never be free of the headache, but at least that much he might be able to soothe.

"Why don't you rest your head on my lap for a change? Here, I'll stroke your forehead for you."

"You should sleep."

"I can do it in my sleep," he smiled to her. "Actually, did you know that the legendary hero Agatsuma Zenitsu can be even more powerful when he sleeps?"

At this, she gave him a weak smile. The first he'd seen lately. "Yes."

"It's true! It's because he can hear the sound of his wife at his side. It powers him up like lightning coming right out of his empty eye-sockets! Actually, there was one time when he blinded his enemy before the roaring sound of his power knocked him over."

"Or the sound of his snoring."

"No, no, it's thunder like it shoots right out of him! You see, it all started one night in a terrible, creepy forest, when he saw a helpless man swooped backwards into the tree tops..."

When Nezuko recovered, Zenitsu picked up his pen again, and published "Rumble of the Knock-Out Secret Swordsmanship of Zenitsu Arc ~The Legendary Man’s Eyes Shine With Light~" not long afterward. It sold decently, and it was nice to hear that he had some fans who were excited about it.

Life fell back into a new busy normal, and Zenitsu's muse was fickle. "The Potato Feudal Lord Arc" was just a passing thing for fun, not something he'd ever tell his publisher about. It was more fun for a while to try out other things, like painting. As long as Nezuko was his model, Zenitsu found he had a knack for it. He ran into Yushiro one time though, who told him he was a hack, and they got into a big argument that ended with Zenitsu throwing all his brushes and unused canvases at him and daring him to do better. Those had all cost a lot of money, so Nezuko was not happy about that. Likewise, she wasn't happy when Zenitsu refused to sell a painting of her and tore his pants while throwing a fit.

By the looks of Nezuko's ledgers, it looked like Zenitsu was stuck at that desk job, selling electricity around the little mountain foothill town. He had been there so long that he got promoted for being good at sitting in the same chair for years, and that meant moving closer to a bigger town, closer to the growing metropolis, where Zenitsu felt right at home and Nezuko assured him she would adjust.

What would Tanjiro think, now that nobody bought charcoal anymore?

The world that once had demons seemed further and further away and the droll of adulthood stretched on, and powers he couldn't behead with a swift Thunderclap and Flash fought amongst themselves. More and more, there were expectations of Zenitsu, and people depending on him. He had to assure people they would still have light and heat even as Tokyo burned, and the sound of planes rattled his ears almost daily. He was a man of his community now, and the only one his family could depend on. At Nezuko's insistence, they collected nearly-blind Kanao and his nephews and niece, and he tried to insist to Inosuke to stay with them in town where there were bomb shelters, but Inosuke, just as responsible for his own family, felt he kept them safest going deeper and deeper in to the mountains.

Nezuko knew nothing but worries. Sometimes, he almost wished she could be back to a childlike state of mind, protected from all the pain and horrors she so unfairly had to endure. In the darkness of a bomb shelter, he hugged her close as she trembled. "Say, Nezuko-chan. Do you remember that time..."

"What?"

"...that time the great hero Agatsuma Zenitsu was a teeny-tiny, but very, very strong mouse?"

He could hear her worries lift, however slightly. Maybe that was all a mouse could do.

"Actually, it was when he was a little boy. You'd never guess it, but he was very cowardly. That was a terrible warlock with a fancy red mark around his eye painted him with a magic white makeup that turned him into a mouse!"

She stifled a snort against his chest. "Uzui-san..."

"Yeah, that was the warlock's name! Did I already tell you this story before?"

"A mouse?" his son clung tighter to him, sometime he hadn't done in years. Even when he was little he always clung to Nezuko instead anyway. Zenitsu could tell by the tone of his son's voice that he was already teary-eyed and sniffly.

"Yeah. A little mouse who thought he had no power at all. That the world was too big for him. But as it turns out..."

What really hurt was Nezuko's reaction. She sighed with disappointment, and lamented that this was why he spent so many long hours away from home.

That was a story Zenitsu recorded later, as a memory of those times. It stayed on his bookcase at home next to the Potato Lord story, now that the world was quiet again.

Business picked up really well. The world got brighter, and so did the indoor lighting. As a general sense of optimism filled the world again, the small but dedicated base of "Legend of Zenitsu" fans called for a new installment. He responded well to praise, and soon gave them "The Dragon Palace Arc ~Eternal Nezuko~," but being so busy as a highly promoted seat-warmer at the office meant he had things he had to do while sitting in that seat. He put on weight again, and spent a lot of sad, long evenings stuffing cookies in his face while streaming with tears that he couldn't be eating one of Nezuko's homecooked meals instead. "Sitting In A Happy Circle and Boiling Tea in Our Bellybuttons Arc" was something he secretly wrote at his desk as a form of silent protest. His publisher rejected that one after reading only one page.

Of course! He had to be at home to write his best work! He had to be in the same space as his muse, Nezuko! Another quickly written revenge work of his, "The Future Holds Zenitsu Arc," was considered one of his better ones.

After that, he was satisfied with writing for a while, and he muse pushed him to start playing (perfectly) the piano. Nezuko was not thrilled about the piano he bought.

If only he had taught it to Nezuko, then. Her joints all bothered her, but she kept sewing out of willpower.

This new hobby inspired another novel, and Nezuko inspired another novel after that of course, and the stress of their son getting married and wanting a lavish wedding inspired another novel and another novel after that was a desperate attempt to strike it big and get out of the debt that wedding cost them. After all, Zenitsu's daughter-in-law was a cutie and he wanted to spoil her. It made Zenitsu remember how cute Nezuko was when they were newlyweds, and before that too, of course, and now too, and before he knew it he had written yet another novel, despite his dwindling fan base. Nezuko sure liked that one, though, and that was all that mattered.

The years went by. Zenitsu felt he lost his mind over how his granddaughter got cuter every time he saw her, and he eventually reached some arbitrary age when his company could only promote him to retired. Aside from the aches in his legs, he felt as young as he always did, though. Kanao said it was probably the effects of Breath technique. It sustained them without reaching a threshold at which it would be dangerous to them.

Zenitsu still wrote sometimes. He stayed busier when his busy-body grandson read the old unpublished "The Birth of Zenitsu Arc" and insisted on learning Thunder Breath. That was like a new job Zenitsu never asked for, especially since he still only knew one of the original six forms, but Kiriya sent him a letter askeing him to give it a shot, for who knew what the future held. Certainly not demons, Zenitsu was assured of that much. If Yushiro gave his novels a bad review one more time, he'd make sure of there were no more demons left in the world.

He got back in touch with Inosuke. He thought it might never happen after he abandoned the old house and charcoal mill, but the whole time, Inosuke had been on the mountain next to it, where he had always been King of the Mountain. He still took care of the house, he said. But a King still had to be King. They weren't the only people on the mountain, though. Aoi paid house calls. Still, Zenitsu gave Inosuke a stern lecture about making Nezuko (as well as Kanao) worry, so Aoi made sure to drag Inosuke into the bigger and bigger city sometimes.

Zenitsu's newest hobby to drop money on was photography, but now that he was a pensioner, Nezuko did not mind so much. She even agreed to let him fulfill his dream of taking her to Paris. He was glad he had that camera, to prove how the city could not outshine her.

He was glad he took her when he did. Her joints made it harder and harder for her to get around, even though she always smiled and insisted Zenitsu's legs must hurt more. He didn't like it when she laughed and joked around about chopping her legs off to grow new ones.

"Grandpa," his youngest granddaughter looked to him with a tearful face, "Grandma was saying something about being a demon again. I wish she'd stop that."

"I know, right!? She's a princess, and the very spirit of a plum blossom tree! A shrine maiden too!"

"There's no way someone like Grandma would ever go to hell."

He paused, and his stomach sank.

Nezuko gave up her sewing. She spent more and more time in bed, but with no desk job to sit at and a grandson taught enough that he could be told to go off and practice on his own, Zenitsu spent his days writing again. He took a long time on that novel he wrote for her, putting in all the sorts of parts he knew she liked. Sometimes he couldn't help himself and reads parts aloud to her without telling her everything else that already happened in the story. She smiled and enjoyed each fragment anyway.

"I've finally got the title for this one!" he announced. "It's called, 'I Will Be In Love With You A Thousand Years Arc.' Perfect, huh? Well, maybe it's still missing something. A million years, maybe?"

"Zenitsu-san... tell me a story..."

"I am! I'm telling you the greatest story yet! It's about this immortal princess who..."

"Tell me a real story..."

He paused and listened to her heartbeat as she took a breath--a simple, unpracticed breath in tired human lungs. Nezuko still made the same warm sound that she always did. It had a different resonance when she was a demon, and when he carried another life inside her, but it was always uniquely her.

"I want to hear... about the time you spent with my brother."

"Tanjiro? Yeah, he... hasn't been in these for a long time. Maybe I'll bring him back."

"You cared so much about him," she smiled from her futon. "That was why you protected my box, before you even met me."

"He... yeah."

"I'm glad you were such good friends... I want to hear about all those good things that happened to you. About your Ojiisan, and your little bird..."

"Yeah," he grimaced to a smile, and the inside of his nose zapped like a storm was brewing. "I had a lot of good things happen to me. A lot of bad things too."

"It's up to you to decide if you're happy or not. I hope... you'll decide you were happy."

"Yeah," he said, the snot already flowing. "The happiest. I'll tell you all about it. I'll make it my best story ever."

"You promise...?"

He kissed her forehead. "I'd never be able to come up with anything better than the truth."

#whoa I wrote something sappy #but also whoa #I wrote fic again #Zennezu #my fics #Agatsuma Zenitsu #Kamado Nezuko

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gwyns · 3 months

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I’m the anon that asked about Gwyn & Az! It’s nice getting to talk about things like this! I don’t go on twitter as much, because the e/riel’s there are truly unhinged. I don’t know why e/riel’s think it’s stupid that gwynriel’s are fine with Azriel saying “I don’t have a mate”, but we are because we’ll get to actually see it on page. Why would they want their ship to develop off page where you can’t read about it? Makes no sense. One of the best things about romance is getting to see the two characters slowly become enamored with each other.

I don’t think they have crushes on each other either (Gwyn might think he’s attractive) or are best friends (yet), but I think they are very good acquaintances. We will get to see their friendship develop on page, as well as their romantic feelings which will be so nice to see. I definitely agree that there is a mutual respect and trust between them. Azriel sees the warrior in Gwyn. He doesn’t see her as a victim. And so far, he treats her with respect and his interactions with her feel healthy compared to his interactions with Mor & Elain.

Do you think Gwyn and Azriel will become lovers/a couple first and then will have sex/explore it, or start exploring sex and then become lovers? I have a lot of thoughts on the sexuality aspect. It grosses me out how some e/riel’s think survivors of assault can never have sex or have sex that might be more kinky. I honestly feel like there’s a lot Sarah can do with them not only as lovers/a couple, but their friendship build up and them as individual characters. I don’t think Gwyn is going to fix Azriel, but she will help with his self worth and help accept parts of himself.

hiii i'm so sorry it took me awhile to get to this!! i agree it's very nice to be able to talk about this <3 i understand your avoidance of twitter they're... horrid on there. i've gotten to the point where i just drag any of them i happen to see on my timeline and they usually block me so, it's been fun!

i grow more and more convinced every day that e/riels have never read books before. when a character says something like "i don't have a mate" in a fated mates series that's the author telling us "yes he does, he's just too stupid to see it right now". of course he has a mate, sjm loves her happy endings. it's a little something called dramatic irony and i believe the greeks coined the term. like it's obvious to us, the readers, where this is going but he's oblivious to it. it's not hard to figure out

yes, yes, yes! i definitely think that by the end of acosf they're both on each other's radars. gwyn is comfortable being alone with him and az admires and encourages her. they're not super close (yet) but they find themselves liking one another's company more and more. it'll be such a seamless transition from acquaintances to friends to best friends to lovers and i can't wait for it!

now that's where this gets tricky. it's hard to tell when sjm will introduce their physical relationship but i hope it's more towards the end. i want their friendship to be at the front of their relationship for awhile. i do think that they won't become "official" or anything until after they have sex. i think they'll realize they're attracted to each other, and gwyn will be curious enough to ask him about it and az would be willing and... well you can guess the rest lol

oh definitely. azriel needs to self reflect a lot and realize he's worthy of love as is. he doesn't have to constantly try and prove he belongs when he already does. i think gwynriel have the potential to be one of sjm's most beautiful couples. the comfort they'd find in each other, how they'd help one another to see that they're worthy of everything they have and want... ugh i love it. they really do share many similarities and parallels and that's not a coincidence on sjm's part

as for e/riels being gross, nothing about their behavior surprises me anymore, unfortunately. i have to believe they're younger, stupider people that don't fully realize how harmful their thinking is. gwyn can and will have a healthy sexual relationship in the future, if that's what she wants. she's more than her trauma and assault, she's even said so, stop reducing her to only that and reflect on how your words can harm real people who have experienced similar things

#antielriel #anti e/riel #acotar #azriel #gwyneth berdara #gwynriel #asks #anonymous

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chansaw · 3 months

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ok. here it is. the longpost i've been too lazy to actually make until just now.

so, here's what happened. the google algorithm sometimes pushes links to articles it thinks you'll like on the mobile homepage. unfortunately, google knew enough about me to put this hellish article onto my screen:

read that headline. then read it again. really, really stare at it. stare into the abyss. eventually, it will stare back. it'll whisper in your ear: "the heathers reboot was good, actually."

i read the article, incredulous. but, to my surprise... the author had somewhat of a point? it's been five years since paramount unceremoniously aired the show in october of 2018 after its premiere was delayed at least twice due to mass shootings. then after another mass shooting occurred before the final two episodes of the ten-episode long season were supposed to air, paramount hastily aired a heavily edited ninth episode and scrapped the tenth entirely. as far as i can tell, the show is not available to be streamed freely on any streaming site (not even paramount's own paramount+), though you can rent or buy it from amazon prime. maybe the author was right. maybe it was time for a rewatch and reconsideration. i wouldn't even have to spend any money; i archived all ten episodes of the show onto one of my external hard drives back in 2018, so i plugged 'er in, drank a bit of fireball, and clicked play.

after episode five, i gave up. i couldn't stand it any longer. i slammed my laptop shut and went to bed.

needless to say, i have thoughts.

right off the bat, here's the biggest thing. i wish to god that someone other than the miserable pile of sweaty skin that calls himself jason micallef had been in charge of this show. it might not have saved it from its fate, but maybe it would have been at least watchable? a modicum more entertaining? when the show was originally announced, leslye headland (who would later go on to create russian doll) was attached as showrunner. later, it was announced that micallef would be showrunner instead, although headland directed the pilot and executive produced the series.

in my honest opinion, if leslye headland had remained in creative control, this would have been a much different - and, in my opinion, better - show.

i can't help but wonder how heathers (2018) would have turned out if she had stayed at the helm. would it have marred her career so badly that netflix would have never agreed to produce russian doll? would she still be notable enough to be given charge of the newest disney plus star wars show? perhaps her decision was for the best. perhaps she knew there was no saving this project, try as she might.

and people tried!!!! during my rewatch, i was enamored by the production design and slick lighting and cinematography. some of the costume design hasn't aged well, but when it hits, it hits. i have to give credit where it's due: it is a beautifully shot and designed piece of television.

if only its actors had given half as much of a shit.

grace victoria cox (veronica) and james scully (j.d.) both attempt to replicate their predecessors' cool sense of disillusion and disenchantment in their roles, but both just come off as totally and completely bored in every scene. j.d. is supposed to be darkly charismatic, but scully has the charm of a plank of rotting wood. they lack the spark of chemistry to get the audience to feel invested in their relationship. without convincing leads to anchor it, the show has to depend upon its titular heathers.

i am, of course, in no way biased at all, in any shape or form. just saying. but one thing the article gets right is that melanie field’s performance as one miss heather chandler shines. field is fucking brilliant and her screen presence is formidable. she makes the most of every line she's given, and is at turns, ruthless, hilarious, and even (gasp) sympathetic. i am so glad she’s been booked left and right in tv shows (such as amazon's a league of their own, a spin-off with much more respect for its source material) that showcase her immense talent since whatever the fuck happened here. but i'm not biased!!!

juan barquin, the author of this article argues that viewers and critics alike both misunderstood heathers (2018). micallef's brilliant satirical messaging flew right over our heads. it had a message, goddamnit, and the misinformed masses closed their eyes and ears because they didn't want to hear it. it almost reminds me of the starships troopers discourse that is currently enveloping the app formerly known as twitter. starship troopers was nearly universally panned upon its release but is now recognized as a prescient satirical romp that targets jingoism, nationalism, and the culture of forever wars. we didn't get it back in 1997, but we do now. unfortunately, this is not the case with paramount's heathers.

the main cause of all the brouhaha around heathers (2018)'s release, barquin says, is because of its "shameless criticism of American culture, the prioritization of guns as a faulty means of defense, and the educational system’s blatant ignorance around the actual needs of students." which, sort of? it is true that a rash of killings (such as parkland and the pittsburgh synagogue shootings) spurred paramount's decision to nuke the show from existence. the show does, in fact, directly address and involve such matters. unlike the movie, the show concludes with westerburg high blown to pieces and its students all dancing in a prom in heaven. which.... yeah. you can see why that wouldn't have played out well.

(it's worth noting that daniel waters, the screenwriter behind the REAL heathers, originally planned for the movie to end this way as well. but the suits at new world studios said that audiences wouldn't like it. reluctantly, he complied.)

and i do have to admit, there are moments of brilliance. westerburg's school shooting drills involve the drama teacher storming through the halls shooting students with silly string. if you "die", you get to go to "heaven" (a brightly lit room stocked with snacks). the survivors are ushered into the dark, cramped gymnasium and complain about how all the cool kids are in heaven now. teachers' desks are stocked with firearms, because as we all know, of course, the only thing that can stop a bad guy with a gun is a teacher with a gun. it's so absurd that it works.

but for the most part, the writing is sorely lacking. it seems like the folks in the writers' room spent hours sitting around the table trying to one-up each other with quippable quips, meme-able dialogue, and banter that matched the panache and dry wit of waters' screenplay. but what we got instead was "HAHHAHAHAH, QUEEF!" it's bad. it's so, so bad. the author's claim that “[t]he show rather impressively matches the film’s comic sensibilities with consistently funny episodes that are as pleasantly cruel as they are scathingly satirical” falls flat because, for the most part, the shows satire isn’t at all scathing or sharp.

there were so many moments of the show where i felt my whole body just light up with rage. it made me just so ANGRY because i could see shells and fragments of a better version of this show peeking through. instead, what we got is a show that made alt-right chuds say this:

i think the most offensive part of the whole article, though, is barquin's attempt to liken the show to bottoms. if anything, i'd argue that bottoms works better as a spiritual successor to heathers than the rebooted heathers itself! bottoms succeeds in every way that heathers (2018) fails: punchy and quotable dialogue, characters who manage to be both archetypal and multidimensional, all set in an exaggerated and heightened sense of reality that still feels lived in and real. most importantly, all of bottoms’ actors are firing on all cylinders; in heathers (2018), most of the leads are just there to get paid. i could go on, but that's a whole other post.

frankly, it's kind of incredible that paramount launched this show as the flagship of their new tv network alongside yellowstone (which is in its final season now with spinoffs on the way). they were really, really banking on this thing to have legs. but we live in a blessed timeline where this show is condemned to an eternity of oblivion. it's a bit of a pity, though, because... the writers envisioned some sort of american horror story-esque anthology setup and teased a “french revolution” second season at the end of the last episode. i kind of want to know where they were planning to go with that.

it could've been so very.

#heathers #long post

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beps-brainrot · 1 year

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Any good fanfics you read recently? Can be just Sun & Moon, or SAMS related. Just braindump about some works so that I can dash and read them plz

Your art is gorgeous btw just thought I’d let u know

Ahh thank you, thank you! That's so nice of you to say, and I really appreciate it<3 Unfortunately, I haven't read many DCA fics, and even more unfortunate than that is I haven't been keeping up with the ones that I'm in the middle of. I'm also wanting to read more fics, so if anyone has any that they want to share about, please feel free to! Still, I'll take the opportunity to ramble a bit.

The most recent fics I've read: Missions Under the Sun by the wonderful and thorough @chaotikanvas. This is a fic based on @lavenoon's Accidentally Undercover AU, and it's such a satisfying read. You get to follow Sun's point of view as he finds himself in the frustrating predicament of being in love with you, his coworker, which he can't breach many boundaries with due to the nature of your jobs. It's such a perfect fic of pining with a capital P that portrays Sun's thoughts and feelings in an indescribably real way. Even if you aren't familiar with Lavenoon's story, this fic is still easy to understand and enjoy. And! As I understand it, Lavenoon has many things to read up on too. If Kanvas' piece is any indication, their stories are captivating and well worth a check out.

Thread Carefully also by Chaotikanvas. This is a red string of fate AU where fate has decided to screw over the poor reader. Basically, the reader has a form of automatonophobia, the fear of animatronics, and is tied to the DCA by the red string of fate. Neither parties can stray too far away from each other without the red string preventing them from leaving. This sets up the exploration of an interesting dynamic between the Attendants and the reader as they have to make do with their new and permanent(?) situation. The way the reader's deep distress and anxiety is portrayed is perfect as Kanvas has an excellent way of detailing a character's introspection. Right now, only one chapter is available, but in my opinion it's enough to hook you and get you invested in what's to come.

Fics I've fallen behind on and am sure you know about: Holler If You Need Us by the incredible @castercassette. It's the wild west, and Sun and Moon are outlaws who run circles around you, the Sheriff. What more could you want? You don't know you need it until you see it, and my love for Caster's work can never be fully expressed.

Solar Lunacy by the imaginative @bamsara. The favorite slow burn with a compelling story! Need I say more about it?

Celestial Omens also by Bamsara. "Get a boat," they said. "It'll be fun," they said.

Twin Animatronics With Too Much Time On Their Hands by the awesome @twinanimatronics. The longest 24 hours you'll ever experience. A very hurty hurt/comfort fic that's eventually greatly rewarding.

Lofi Beats to Capture Children to by the brilliant and meticulous @dana-chan-the-control-brain. Sun and Moon's turbulent relationship in this can be quite upsetting especially if you're like me, someone who only desires fluff and wholesomeness for the boys. However, Dana's characters and intricately woven story are so good that simply reading it is its own reward.

I Can't Handle it also by Dana-chan. A spin off fic about Dana's OC from Lofi and Twin Animatronics, Ted, otherwise known as Dadler. He is my favorite wet sandwich of a person. I can't help but resonate with his deep self-loathing and melancholy. I miss him. I seriously need to catch up on these fics.

#if i got dadler's name wrong i'll scream #i'm terrible i haven't read ANY sams fic waaahh #though my interest is piqued by your sams fic sinistershepherd👀#sorry this is not a super helpful answer fahkjsksaj #beps ask #i think i've overthought all this

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misterewrites · 1 year

Text

Year Two and a Halfish (Threads of Fate)

Hi! E here still alive. Been. a while. Sorry if you were expecting updates sooner my laptop was having some serious black screen issues and every attempt at sending it to get repaired is getting stonewalled and honestly it's infuriating and yeah. That happened. Hopefully this time it gets properly fixed and i can go back to writing consistently. I'm just using my mom's laptop to write in the meantime.

So it's super late but Merry Christmas @hains-mae! WOO! this is her gift that she requested at the time (I was pretty surprised when she wanted me to write this story but then i was promptly told she wanted her Solider Poet King for her birthday so that explained everything haha.

I started working on this a few days ago and unfortunately something happened here in America relates in a small part to the story. Honestly maybe I'm overreacting or overthinking it but I also know a lot of people read this story and i rather be overly prepped than accidentally not doing enough

Mae wanted a situation where Jason loses it after you, the reader, is injured. She gave me little requests like Robin's line and has to end in all warm feel goodness (cuz i am not legally allowed to write angst haha) so I have chosen that the reader is shot in the shoulder.

Yeah my little thing makes sense now.

It gets a bit intense, maybe? I can never tell cuz I'm writing it. Like i said I could be overthinking this but heads up. It also does end very sweet and homely and all that goodness so no worries. If you don't feel like reading it I understand.

Stay safe everyone. Lose yourself in a story whether it be mine or someone else's and just relax. breath. It'll be okay. Even if it seems like a lot right now.

So yeah hopefully I'll have my laptop fixed and we're all good but at least for now i have an alternate means of writing! Next is probably Mirror's Edge, Mae's birthday gift, Mirror's edge, another gift i owe but that's a personal one that won't be posted.

Be safe, take care of yourself and your loved ones. Wear masks (i know i know but remember you can pass them on to people with compromised immune systems.) remember to get the vaccine or booster cuz it'll help make it bearable. It's okay to just exist and be and let the world pass you by. One step at a time together. Also vaccine worldwide push for it cuz it's important and frankly whatever you feel is important. The issues that matter to you and remember. It'll be okay.

That's it for me! E is out have a great week and i'll see you really soon!

If you want to read this from the start you can find the whole story on this really awesome site right here! https://archiveofourown.org/works/29955270/chapters/73737858

For the rest of my work that includes some awesome original work (so i am told haha) Arcane Legend of Zelda and Soul Eater you can find that over here https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrE42/pseuds/MrE42

Summary: A few months later, you are trying to get to work when a very unfortune thing happens. For better or worse Red Hood is saving the day.

-----

It’s pretty cold right now. I…I don’t recall ever feeling this cold before.

Wait. That’s not…true. I think. I’m pretty sure I’ve been this cold before.

Have I?

Whenever Mister Freeze has a snow day it gets really cold.

I feel for him, I do but...

God it’s cold. Or is it warm? My head is warm. Hands not so much. Feet freezing too.

Am I cold? I can’t tell. Everything is a lot right now. The floor is damp I know that much. I can see my breath frozen midair for a moment.

Someone is yelling, waving something towards me from overhead but I can’t focus. Everything’s a bit blurry.

Why does my side hurt? Fuck did I pull something again? I really hope not. I have work tomorrow. Eww wet too. Did I spill something?

Wait, no. Today. I have work today. Right now I think. What time is it?

Shit why do I feel weak? Arm’s shaking too. I didn’t forget to eat again did I? Ugh Jason’s going to kill me.

Hee, Jason. He’s soooo handsome. I have no idea why he wants out hang with me though. He is way out of my league. Like he’s fucking Batman’s son! HOW THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO IMPRESS THE ACTUAL SON OF BATMAN!?

Mister Wayne? Bruce? Bruce. No not Bruce. I’ve never met him, I don’t think I can be on a first name basis with freaking Batman if I’ve never met him. Well him him. I’ve been saved by the bats before. Few times actually.

I should really thank him for Jason. He’s just amazing.

Okay so maybe I drank a lot. Why am I thinking of Jason?

Ugh, this asshat is yelling at me still. What the hell does he want? He’s talking to me right? Ugh my head’s pounding, I can’t hear anything.

The guy seems frantic, keeps looking back expecting something but I have no idea what. He just keeps gesturing to his open hand. What the fuck does he…

FUCK! That’s right this asshole shot me!

I wince as the sound turns back on all at once: The angry honking of impatient drivers, the numbing chatter of a thousand people living in a concrete jungle as one. The adrenaline is making my senses so sharp I can hear the dripping water splatting against the cold floor of the alley.

I must’ve gone into shock without realizing it. I mean I was just shot so can you blame me?

My shoulder is burning with a white hot pain I only felt twice in my life: Once when Bane slammed a mailbox into me and when I was 12 and I was really trying to…

You know what? Not important. More pressing matters right now.

I remember now that my flight or fight kicked in: I was late to work and I tried cutting through an alley for a shortcut.

Terrible idea in Gotham I know but this one was brightly lit. I didn’t think anyone was stupid enough to try anything.

So naturally the universe decides to give me the one stupidest person who would try.

He waves his gun at me again (it was a gun. Duh.) but honestly I’m too wired to care. Plus he shot a hole in my favorite jacket! AND IT’S GOT BLOOD RUNNING DOWN IT! DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT IS TO GET BLOOD OUT OF CLOTHING?! Really fucking hard.

Oh. Shit. I’m bleeding out. That’s probably important too.

I try to pick myself off the floor but he takes a step forward, threatening me with the gun again.

“I’ll shoot!” he yells.

Even now, with the last possible moments of my life slipping away, I can’t help but be a smartass.

“You already did you asshat! Shooting me again isn’t gonna make me want to give you my money anymore than the first time!”

Gonna die as I lived: Sassy.

He clicks the hammer on the gun, prepping it to fire again.

I…I feel numb. The adrenaline lessens the pain but it’s still mind dumbing. I just want to scream and fight and yell and go down swinging.

But that’s not who I am. I’m not some superhero or even a regular hero. I’m just a person trying to make my way through this chaotic journey called life. I couldn’t even get up and now because some idiot wants the 10 bucks and a very, very old video rental card to a place that doesn’t exist anymore in my wallet, it was about to end.

I could feel fear bite at my resolve, a dreadful overwhelming sense of finality wash over me. Goosebumps crawled down my skin, the air felt stuffy and too cold all at once as time slowed to a crawl.

I….

I can’t even think.

I’m just scared. I don’t want to go out this way.

I took a deep breath and close my eyes.

I think of my mom, waiting for my phone call later.

I think about Jason Jr, a cat I adopted by accident cuz he had streak of white that was way too familiar. Feed them once and every Jason refuses to leave you.

I do my best to not think of him but Jason Jr leads to Jason the human: His piercing blue eyes that feel like he’s seeing deep into my soul. His messy black hair with that one streak of white that made him so iconic, so distinct from his brothers. The various knicks, tiny bruises, cuts and scars from years being Robin then the Red Hood. Invisible from afar but so, so clear up close.

I can hear his laugh, mostly teasing but with a hint of warmth when I do something dumb. The way shows off his prowess with a knife and how proud he beams when I clap excitedly. Wide smirks when we get into one of our playful chats and jabs. The small smile that graces his lips when he thinks I’m not looking. The quiet thoughtful look when something troubles him. A distance gaze only someone who has experienced for too much has.

I see Jason in my mind but I don’t want that. I want to look him in eye when he tries to be all broody and cool. I want to mess with his hair and tease him about his terrible tastes in books. I want to see him again!

Not like this. No fucking way. I have no idea how I’m going to go but I refuse to let it be like this.

I snap out of my stupor, time seemingly unmoved by whatever deeply reflective crap I just did.

He still has his hand on the gun. I’m still on the floor and this still sucks.

I prep my body, tensing and wincing from my aching shoulder but I try not to be distracted. One shot and whether it works or not, I’m not going to go quietly.

“JUST GIVE ME YOUR MONEY!” the man screams hysterically.

“Fuck you.” I spit out as I’m ready to make my move.

The red string tied around my finger slackens, distracting me at a really bad time but suddenly goes taut like someone is pulling at it.

A thud is all I hear and suddenly the guy is gone. Just vanished into thin air.

I weakly try to stand but my legs turn to jelly and honestly I’m not in fight or flight anymore. I’m in “the floor is nice and solid and I’m just gonna lay here” mode.

So I do just that and fall back on the floor and decide to exist for like the next ten minutes.

I mean I would’ve if something didn’t pick me up.

“Are you okay?” A voice asks, young. Younger than me at least.

“Umm.” I smartly reply.

The young man hums thoughtfully “You’ve been shot.”

“Yeah. That thing.”

“Shock.” He concludes before slipping my good arm over his neck and helps me over to a wall. I take this sec to look and am unsurprised to find Red Robin at my side.

“JA.…” Someone else from above calls out, nearly saying a full name before realizing his mistakes “HOOD!”

Hood? Jason. Jason is the Hood. Jason is here. God I’m tired.

He doesn’t respond if he is here.

A figure elegantly sails through the air, tucking into an impossible swan dive only a skilled master of acrobatics whose trained his entire life could manage so effortlessly.

Plus that’s Nightwing’s ass. It doesn’t matter where you land on orientation, everyone in Gotham and Bludhaven knows that ass.

“HOOD!” Nightwing shouts, less cheery goofyball as per his usual self and more firm. More worried.

Red Robin looks now and his practiced, measured posture drops. He doesn’t even bother to hide his brother’s name.

“Jason. Jason stop! JASON!”

Nightwing has already broken into a full sprint towards where I assume Jason is but Red Robin take a second to make sure I’m comfortable. He places me against the wall and hands me a thick cloth to press over my shoulder. A second later and he’s off. My eyes follow and land on Jason.

Except he’s not Jason right now. He’s Red hood and the difference is….staggering to be honest.

I…forget who he is, the brand of justice he deals out with harsh sentences. Somehow, despite how we first met, I managed to split Jay and Hood into two different entities. Two different people who never happened to be in the same room at the same time.

But now, seeing Jason rain blow and blow upon my attacker, I see it.

Jason favors his right side. He’s amberidext-something but that’s from years of training. He says it feels more natural to him, easier for him to focus on other things.

Red likes using the right too. He’s just a fraction faster using his favored side and it’s clear even with his build that he is quick and there’s power in each punch.

Jason is light on his feet but has a solid stance. He loves to boast how it takes all his siblings to hold back him even if he’s not really trying to break free.

Nightwing can’t stop him neither can Red Robin. They’ve all had the same training from the same teacher but they’re not the same. They all have their strengths: Nightwing was blessed with an inhuman grace (and ass). RR is as smart as Batman and just as capable as a detective.

But Jason? Just a force of nature. Pure muscle and strength only equaled by his mentor and with a will to match.

They could barely slow the battle crazed Hood. It took all they had to pull him back but I could see by the sweat on their brows that it was only a matter of time before he broke free from their grasp. He was like a shark that smelled blood in the water and he wasn’t going to stop until he felt the price of injustice had been paid.

Another figure descended from the roof, smaller in stature and wearing an all too iconic yellow and black outfit: Robin. Well the newest Robin since everyone here minus me was Robin at some point.

You know when you’re drained of adrenaline you get reeeeeeally out of it.

Robin cautiously approached the trashing Red Hood, well aware of how dangerous his brother could be.

“Todd.” Robin spoke firmly “This is wrong. You know this is wrong.”

“Yeah Jay!” Nightwing pitched in quickly “And that’s coming from the kid. Imagine how you’re acting if he’s saying that.”

Robin openly glared “Watch your tongue Grayson.”

“Guys, could we deal with the rampaging Jason before we start snipping at each other?” Red Robin pleaded with immense strain.

Nightwing tightened his grip “Jay please. They’re watching.”

Jason’s shoulders slump as realization dawned on him. I could physically note when the exact moment the fight left him.

And me as I promptly passed out.

-----

I wish I could tell you after such a harrowing ordeal that I reflected with a deep and newly acquired profound understanding of my existence, the importance of living each day to the fullest and my place in the universe for really I am the instrument in which the universe….

Yeah no. I woke up on a cloud and instantly hated existing cuz pain is not fun.

I’m not exaggerating by the way. I found myself on the most comfortable bed I have ever been. It was like it was molded for me, shaping around my body in a way that didn’t aggravate my aches. I mean it didn’t stop them but I’ll take anything I could get.

“I see you are awake.”

I couldn’t even flail so I settled for screaming at the top of my lungs.

The most British older gentleman I have ever seen regarded me with a stony face of indifference though I swore I saw a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

“I must admit I have never illicit that particular response before.” He said dryly complete with stiff upper lip “But I can see why it is Master Bruce’s favorite.”

I could feel my cheeks burn “Ah yes. Sorry I….sorry. Umm good morning mister…?”

The man gave a bow “Pennyworth. Normally I would ask you to refer to me as such but seeing as young Master Jason has spoken about you at great length and detail it seems only fair we are on a more familiar basis. Alfred is my name.”

I chuckled nervously as realization dawns on me “Yes. Please forgive me…Alfred? Sir? I…Long night.”

“I should say so what with that bullet lodged in your shoulder.”

I could feel my shoulder ache dully at the reminder.

“Ugh I gotta get to a hospital huh? Don’t want to get lead poisoning. Umm Alfred, sir, do you know if Gotham Blue covers gunshot wounds? My brain is still a bit scrambled.” I speak honestly.

Even his laugh is dry “Do not worry. I have taken the liberty of removing the round as you were sleeping. It made the process simpler and more efficient. A refreshing change of pace I will admit. My usual patients like to insist very serious gunshot wounds fall under the category of merely a ‘scratch’.”

I opened my mouth to reply but someone else answered for me “We’re bats Alfred. Comes with the territory that we get shot at.”

Jason sauntered into the room lazily but I knew he’d been worried: His hair was extra messy and matted, his shoulders slumped as his posture hunched over. His hands were stuffed into his pockets, probably fiddling with whatever he had inside. His gaze was intensely focused on Alfred but I could see him struggling not to look at me.

Alfred’s gave a slight smile “Ah yes. Forgive me Master Todd but I do recall there is quite the difference between being shot at and being shot in general. One many of you seem to have difficulty grasping.”

Jason shrugged, unsure what to say.

“Beg your pardon” Alfred turned to me “I must prepare breakfast. I shall be back shortly with some French toast and fresh bandages for your wound.”

With a polite bow Alfred briskly left the room and sent a scurrying of hurried feet racing from the door.

Silence, not awkward but still tense. The lingering sense of shame filled the air.

Jason wouldn’t look at me.

“Your siblings will be back soon.” I nudged him helpfully “If you want a private conversation I’d say we got like 5 minutes.”

“Twenty.” Jason mumbled uneasily “They really like to scatter to make sure no one is suspicious but Alfred and Bruce know us too well to fall for it. Alfred will suddenly find tiny and convenient issues around the house to prevent them from circling back and Bruce will track one or two down to have a quick chat.”

“Neat.” I said honestly.

Silence fell over us again but I knew it was because Jason was gathering his thoughts into words. When things really mattered he always took his time.

“I’m sorry.” He said, still refusing to meet my gaze.

I scoffed loudly “I wasn’t aware you shot me.”

“This isn’t the time for being a smartass!”

“It isn’t the time for being a dumbass either but here you are.”

“I know you saw me.”

I sighed deeply “Of course I saw you. What, do you think I never wanna see you again?”

Jason remained quiet.

“Look.” I tried to sit up “I’m not gonna pretend like I know what your life’s been like and what you did last night was…a lot.”

“Don’t move, you’ll make it worse.” He said but I ignored him.

“Make me Jay.”

Jason whirled around so quick I nearly didn’t see him gently push me onto back.

“Oww.” I wheezed but Jason held a firm yet careful hold on me “Cheater.”

“How? How did I cheat?” Jason gave a cutely offended look.

I snort “Alphabetically or chronologically?”

Jason glared “If you say Batman trained me one more time…”

“Am I lying?” I smirked “The most training I got was little league and I sucked at it.”

“You hit a homerun once” He offered helpfully.

I rolled my eyes playfully “I hit home, not a homerun. Big diff Jay.”

“True. Only you could hit the homebase and send it flying 5 feet.”

“Hey! It was 20 feet. Minimum.”

“Mhm sure. My bad.” Jason finally grinned “I suppose you also managed to get 5 points for doing that too.”

“Don’t forget the scholarship too! You always forget the scholarship.”

“Do not!”

“Do too!”

“No!”

“Duh!”

We stared at each other deeply for a moment before breaking out into laughter.

Well Jason did. I took one breath and suddenly I was violently coughing.

“Oww oww oww.”

“Idiot.” He mumbled as he tucked me into the sheets.

I gave a cheesy grin “Worth it.”

Jason raised a quizzical eyebrow.

“Okay no, not really” I admitted “That hurt way more than I was expecting.”

“Rest.” Jason threatened me with arms crossed.

I was too tired to care the words “Only if you’re here to keep an eye on me.” Tumbled out of my mouth before I thought better.

Jason shifted guiltily “Look I…”

In for a pound. I gently placed on my hand over his “We’ll talk about it later. For now it’s over and honestly I really don’t wanna think about it this second. I am just….really happy to see you Jay.”

He took my hand in his.

“You really need to stop taking shortcuts.” He scolded lightly.

“Hey!” I raised my free hand defensively “There were lights! What kind of idiot tries to rob someone in a well lit alley?!”

“The one that shot you yesterday.”

“No shit Jay.” I glared openly at him but all he did was smirk in response.

As beautiful as this moment was, I had to ruin it. A thought began to bother me and Jason noticed.

Jason motioned with his head “Don’t think too hard. Your body can’t handle the strain right now.”

“Oh shut it. You said Bruce was gonna intercept your siblings, right?”

“Umm yeah.” Jason was unsure where I was going with this “He pretends to be emotionally constipated but he’s very good at bed side manner and respectful with privacy.”

I nodded in agreement “Have you ever brought anyone to here?”

Jason’s face fell “Oh no.”

“Emotionally constipated? You’re being unusually kind today Jason.”

The doors flung open and in strode the one, the only, the myth, the legend and Jay’s father: Bruceman.

Shit I mean Batwayne. Brucebat.

Bruce motherfreaking Wayne gave me a million dollar smile “Hello I’m Bruce Wayne. It is so nice to meet you. Jason never brings any of his friends over.”

I could feel myself pale as I stared dumbfounded at his outstretched hand.

Then I promptly passed out.

#My work #Red Hood X reader #DC #Batfam #Red Hood #Reader #X-mas gift

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idolsummons · 6 months

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[ tilt ] - for receiver to tilt sender’s chin gently to prompt them to make eye contact with receiver

a million years meme ･ﾟ✫ @desertfragments

It's just something you have to do. Hana looked at Red, who was seated beside her. His eyes were trained on those out on the field like a cat on its prey. She could hear the rumbling emanating from him. If she didn't know any better, she might think he was a cat. If you ignore it, it'll just get worse and worse. She, too, turned her attention back to the three kicking the ball between them. Happy, smiling, laughter and chatter audible even from a distance. You've already let it go for too long. Hana's breathing slowed. Any longer and... then what? You risk losing yourself entirely? She hungered. And despite Red's cautions, she had tried to ignore it, feared losing herself. That night still lingered in her mind. It was in her nature that she would never forget, not even a detail so minute as which way the wind was blowing, but she found herself thinking about it less; unfortunately, that still meant it came to the forefront of her mind at least once a week. At first she tried to ignore the voice, the same one which had followed her for as long as she could remember, telling her to replicate the horrors she had committed that night, but she knew well enough that it was something that could not be shut out, and it became more and more insistent until she'd finally picked up the phone to confess as much to Red, asking for his support, whether it be moral in nature or mere comfort. He made it clear soon enough that he would not be a mere bystander while she got to feast. Hana stood from the picnic table at which they had seated themselves and she made her way over to the men. As though a twist of fate, one of the men kicked the ball and it went astray, rolling to a stop by Hana's feet. 'Hey!' called out the man who had kicked the ball. 'Mind passing it over?' Hana stood silent. Her eyes flicked between the three men. 'You alright, Miss?' Hana did not need to look back to know that Red had joined her, nor did she need to be an expert in emotion to see how the joy sapped from their faces instantaneously, their smiles replaced with worried frowns. It was just like last time; she did not know what happened next, for she had "blacked out," only regaining herself when there were three barely recognisable bodies strewn about the ground and blood still dripping from her fingers. Red, who bore upon his person similar markings in crimson, approached. He took her chin in his hand, manoeuvring her so that her focus was on him and not the carnage they had sown. 'How you feeling?' he asked. Hana's eyes flicked back to the bodies for a split second more before coming back to rest on Red. And however meek it was, Hana smiled. 'Can we... do this again some time?'

#bet u weren't expecting to see a response to this ever #or even remember sending it #also just realised i got the order of receiver/sender wrong but it's FINE #little slices of an existence ･ﾟ✫ drabble #v: the tokyo horror #desertfragments #gore tw #blood tw

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orphilos · 1 year

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* .☾ ° 𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐈𝐕𝐄 , @thieviant ↴

" what i have with you, i don’t want with anyone else. "

UPON HIS WORDS, eyes of gentle hues set themselves 'pon Akira's, ( they do not dare to dart away, nor is what he said dismissed. ) instead, an airy, light laugher pushes through lips. the false god he had thought to be his enemy ( a threat to society itself as best ) had never looked less of one before this moment. — had he finally found somebody in which their presence had been worthy enough to start cracking down the wall he had built over the course of years? a wall that. had been built for not only others but for his self? ( surely, Minato had to notice it too. after all, the two are one && the same. ) both building their own walls to protect themselves from the cruel world — Minato had never been one to fear DEATH, not in a sense of his own well being. ( to be precise, ) he had always feared losing others but never himself. everybody had a reason to keep going. ( but unfortunately, Minato had always thought otherwise when the subject fall 'pon his future. )

life may have had no plan for him, but death surely did — && even in this twist of fate. this whole exchange the two had was only be a temporary stay ( nothing more && nothing less. ) yet, even in the short period of time that he is given. he cannot deny that he had begun to grow a ' fondness ' for the other — ( && such a fondness had been mutual. ) perhaps it was a result of the arcana playing its part, with both feeling something akin to familiarity. perhaps, it was the two's understanding of one another's loneliness settling in that they found themselves embracing in each other's arms for what they had longed for ( comfort && security. ) It's an exchange that the two arguable wondered if what they had felt was considered normal to have with the person that you viewed as your enemy….

( no, of course, it wasn't. )

even so, it'll be foolish for him to view what they had together as something he'd have with anyone else — the closest he could possily think of doing such a thing, would ( unsurprising ) be with that of S.E.E.S. as they've been they only people that he had viewed as family, however, that was what made the exchange confusing. Akira was neither a friend nor ally, ( he was an enemy. ) — && even though, the two were aware of it, it made it nearly impossible to not see a part of himself through Akira. the both of them were struggling with their own demons, however, Minato was simply fortunate enough to find a group that supported him through times in which he felt alone...

Akira did not have such luxury.

needless to say, it is not shocking that Akira would say such words to him. anybody would've said it, had they've been through a similar situation, && to feel as though they had finally find somebody ( enemies or not. ) — to stay by their side, through even the not so calming && relaxing moments. his laugher lingers far longer than anything he has done before; it's unlike the quiescent to laugh in the face of what would be his opponent ! ( it had been considered cruel, ) but with it towards Akira. someone he knew, would not be bothered by such an action. — && as such, he had no need to concern himself with it. ❛ Hehe, really? ❜ a voice that sounded almost sarcastic, mocking the tone of his words. as though they are meant to be dismissed so easily && without a care.

that had been until he approached him, ( no hesitate, no fear, no worries ) with arms wrapped themselves around Akira's waist, pulling him close against his form. ( ❝ i'm always here for you... ❞ )

❛ I guess, you could say, I feel the same way. ❜

#thieviant #* XIII ⫶ memento mori ⊹ ( in character. )#* XIII ⫶ comment vous dire... ⊹ ( asked. )#* XIII ⫶ the devil is not as black as he is painted ⊹ ( akira x minato. )#{ nods.. im pretty rusty in my writing ! that i can notice from how i was writing this #or at least writing in the way I do on tumblr vs on discord... still ! i did like what I wrote here !#also photoshop WONT FUCKING OPEN so i cant edit my icon i hate my life }

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surely-galena · 2 years

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The NXX Boys and the Myth of Icarus

WC: 1.5K

If you've read enough of my work, you'll probably notice that I make a decent number of Classical Allusions, usually to Greek mythology. Examples I can think of off the top of my head are an allusion to Eros and Psyche in my Vyn Wonderland fic and an allusion to Daedalus in the fic where Celestine writes a book about Artem's love life.

I want to specifically talk about the Icarus myth in this post and how each boy might relate to it. Because Icarus is a fascinating tale to allude to -- it's one of the most well-known Greek myths -- and I think each of the boys would see themselves in the story in slightly different ways.

Disclaimer: you don't have to agree with my take on this! I just think it's a fun concept to think about :D

I'm going to begin by sorting each boy into two categories: flying and falling.

Artem and Vyn. Flying

I've put Artem and Vyn in this category because in this particular case, I see them both as characters who view MC as the sun they are flying toward.

When people talk about the fall of Icarus, it's occasionally linked to a warning about going too far when you shouldn't have.

And I think this is most applicable to Artem, at least only in his head. I get the idea that Artem views his relationship with MC as a sort of leap of faith. It's not a calculated, logical risk, it's more of a hopeful wish -- a wish that might not catch him when he eventually finds himself falling. He wants to get to know MC in a genuine, human way, but part of him is afraid of getting too close, of acting on his feelings. And while he doesn't want her to see him as totally perfect like everyone else, he also doesn't want to force her into anything. In a way, he sees himself as flying into new, dangerous territory.

With Artem, his wings are held together by perfection, or at least the image of perfection. The closer he flies to MC, and the more time she spends with him, the more she realizes that he's just like anyone else -- a person with their own hopes and struggles and fears.

With Artem as Icarus, falling then becomes a good thing. While there is fear involved as he flies toward the MC sun -- the fear of not being enough, the fear of rejection, the fear of failure, etc. -- the fall is not inherently a bad thing. The fall, once the perfection has been seared off, is vulnerability. And for Artem, this is a good thing because he wants to be real with MC. It's a scary thing, but in the long run, it'll even out the balance in the their relationship.

Artem is afraid of the fall.

But deep down, he is already embracing his fate.

I now turn the metaphorical page and present something I think is sort of interesting.

With Vyn, flying too close to the sun also leads to increased vulnerability. But unlike Artem, Vyn perceives this as a bad thing. If his wings are glued together with self-preservation (via the front he puts on), that is also going to have to melt away the closer he gets to MC. And he is still learning to be okay with that, to be flawed and open and vulnerable with her.

It is impossible to get to know a person and not know their flaws, and the game has made an effort to show the reader, and occasionally MC (I do make a distinction between them here) that Vyn is undeniably flawed. SR 'Mercury in Retrograde' comes to mind here.

I think that deep down, Vyn is afraid that he is -- at his imperfect, human core -- not enough for MC. He already views her as a ray of light/hope in a world he perceives to be inherently dark and cruel. He wants to be reliable for her, he wants to be the person she contacts when she needs help, and he never wants to let her down. But in doing so, Vyn is actually compromising himself because he's preventing MC from connecting with him on a deeper level. @actualbird has a really great Vyn vs. Artem analysis here.

Vyn does not want to fall.

But, unfortunately for him, the fall is inevitable.

Luke and Marius. Falling

In relation to Icarus and the sun, Luke and Marius' circumstances are different. In their case, they've already flown too close to the sun. The wax is melting, their wings are coming apart, and they are descending into the ocean.

And in both of their cases, I posit that the sun is not MC.

Here, I also make the distinction that unlike Icarus (and perhaps Artem and Vyn), Luke and Marius don't necessarily make the choice to deliberately fly toward the sun. Rather, it is something else that pushes them to the limit.

For Luke, the sun is the event that killed all of his teammates and left him with an illness and a death date. In his head, he's flown too close, and now he is left dealing with the consequences of his actions -- actions he is convinced are his own fault.

I don't think it's clear in the story whether or not Luke blames himself for the event (which I think was out of his control), but I think he would harbor quite a bit of trauma from the incident. Every single one of his teammates was killed, and he was left the only survivor. Knowing Luke and his tendency to blame himself for mistakes he sees as his own, it's possible that he's beating himself up for not doing enough back then, for not planning enough, for not being enough.

Maybe part of Luke even believes that he deserves the fall.

In Luke's perspective, it's only a matter of time before he slams into the ocean and is forever swallowed by its waters. He has a time limit he's paying pretty close attention to, and many of his earlier stories have him mentally preparing to leave MC again, to put her before himself without thinking about what she wants.

Luke is falling, and he is waiting for the eventual impact.

But here is where MC comes in. With MC, he is learning to fight his own deep-seated fears. He is learning to be more open with her, to be as vulnerable with her as she is with him. (Huh, maybe the real fall was vulnerability all along.) With MC, Luke is learning to stop seeing himself as a burden and as someone with value. Even though he's making small steps, he's still moving forward.

After Luke's wings fall apart, his future is uncertain.

But maybe there are good moments to be found even during the fall.

And now I switch to Marius. For him, the sun is the spotlight that landed on him after Giann disappeared.

Marius was born into the spotlight -- he never chose to be in it. Giann's disappearance was out of his control, Pax practically fell into his hands, and he was forced to use fabricated family drama (the Pax civil war) as an excuse for Giann not being around. Marius was forced too close to the sun, and as a result, he loses the ability to truly be himself. He's not a dreaming artist in Florence any longer, he's a CEO in charge of a massive company.

When Marius is pulled too close to the sun, what melts away from his wings is self-sacrifice. His privacy, his true self, his own hopes and dreams and fears: these are all things he has to keep under lock and key. And if these are the feathers on his wings, he is trying desperately to hold them together, to keep them hidden from vicious eyes and power-hungry hands. He is trying to keep himself from falling.

I paint a picture of Marius as someone who is constantly, whether he likes it or not, giving. And if he is not giving, he is letting go. Because he is not enough to hold himself together, and so he lets others take away from him. And most of the time, the things that are taken away are false: Stellis' public perception of him, the way he navigates the business world, and the perceived way he runs his company.

With so much taken away, Marius' wings are not enough to hold him. They are not enough to keep him flying. And so he falls, just another celebrity who shines for a moment in the spotlight before flickering out.

Where MC comes in, perhaps ironically, is as an anchor. She is one of the few people Marius trusts to be himself around. She helps to hold him together so he does not break under the pressure and completely fall apart. And even as he falls, she is not exactly pulling him down, but trying to hold him in place.

Marius never wanted to fall.

But at least he has someone who keeps him from spiraling out of control.

#tears of themis #luke pearce #marius von hagen #artem wing #vyn richter #mc | rosa

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arcadejohn127-9 · 3 years

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Sorry the post reached its word limit so I have to add the undateables in a different post! Happy valentine's everyone!!!

Pt.1 = Demon brother's

UNDATEABLES↓

Diavolo:

Mini golf, it was both surprising and unsurprising

He was able to ditch the suit he wore normally to more comfortable clothes

Enjoying the strange golf courses Wincing everytime he shot one too far and completely lost the ball

You were getting better scores than him and he a better player!

"will you guide me on this one? I think I'm going to hit it too hard again."

You smiled, happily moving behind him and putting your hands on his

You helped him control his swing and to no surprise it was a perfect shot

"perhaps I should guide you every turn, you're a pro."

"if it isn't (Y/N), who's this? I don't think we've met."

"go away, I don't have time for you."

Dia immediately recognised your ex, hiding his annoyance behind a smile and shook their hand

"I'm their boyfriend, we're currently on a date, so if you'll excuse us."

He tried to usher you both along but your ex grabbed his hand

"let's not end this so soon, I was close with them, don't you want to share stories?"

"No-"

"I'll go first, as an ex wanting to help you out! Don't bring up a single issue to them, they won't help you at all, they always told me I was overreacting."

You groaned, clutching your golf club tightly

"because you were, threatening to hit me over not wanting to hear you complain about your side girls not texting you back is an overreaction."

"always spinning stories! This what I mean, you just need to be prepared to be in that kind of relationship with them, they'd only Respond to yelling."

"you're the only one who would listen when yelled to and would just yell at me because you could, you're a horrible person and you should leave right now-"

You wanted to hit them with your golf club, fuming at how they talked about you

"they've been very good to me and I've never had to raise my voice at them, perhaps you were the issue."

His voice was still so kind that your ex almost didn't realize what he said

"such a shame they've already gotten to you - oh we need to move, watch me play okay?"

They winked at the demon, strutting off to their new golf site

"let's play but I won't bother you to guide me."

"it's no bother-"

Dia took a strong strike, the ball flying off and hit your ex in the head

But another flying golf ball was already being sent their way

"Sorry! You just look like target with seeing how much you open for mouth, here I'll give you my club as an apology."

He 'accidentally' did it too hard and sent his club flying in their direction, they just missed it

They screamed at him for being crazy but he just kept his sweet smile

"so you're actually a great shot on your own."

"guilty, I just wanted you to hold me."

Barbatos:

Aquarium, it feels fitting seeing he's also a serpent demon .

You held his gloved hand, pointing out towards the colourful fish that caught your fancy

"there are remarkable species I'm sure you've yet to have seen in the Devildom, Perhaps I'll take you to see them."

"really??!! I'd love to!"

He admired the dolphins that swam across the open space around the hallway, watching the way it delved back into the water

"this is embarassing, is that really you?!"

"oh no...."

"it is! When I found you disappeared I thought it was because of me! But here you are and with you're- whoever this is."

"I'm the boyfriend."

He nudged you away from your ex, his mood already sour

"boyfriend?! Already...? What a shame you moved on so quickly, I've been thinking about you."

They caressed the side of your cheek but you just slapped their hand away

"yeah right, leave us alone - I don't want to be around you."

"don't even think about insulting them, are you really going to bring up the past as a way to hurt them just because they've refused you?"

"h-huh-?! What are you- I wouldn't do such a thing!"

"oh...? So you weren't thinking of bringing up the time they use to 'love' you Touching them and was just 'shy' about it? Knowing it'll get a rise because you know that they didn't like your touch."

"how did you-?!"

"I know alot about you and what you plan to do, it would best you step away now before I set your fate in stone - swimming with the fishes."

He towered over them, their back pressing against the tank glass,

their eyes glancing to the fishes behind them

They let out a nervous laugh

"right....well I'll be going then, goodbye (Y/N)."

Solomon:

A fire works show - meant you could spend the mornings doing whatever you want but the night?

That's when you two went Speeding

You kept your scarf close to your face, it being a chilly night

You kept your hand intertwined with your boyfriend's, in awe at the fireworks

"They're not very close are they? i could make fireworks."

He shook his star wand, you were thankful it looked like a toy

"Sol, you can't just use magic when there's a small inconvenience."

"fireworks-!"

Soon enough fireworks came bursting out closer to where you two stood, still a safe distance away but seeing as you didn't get the best spot in the crowd

It was much cooler to see them closer

"No way!!! You're back in town?! I thought you left for good!"

It was almost hard to hear your ex over the fireworks

Solomon gave them the side eye as he clutched your hand

"I know have devastated you were after the breakup, seriously didn't think you'd disappear, I bet that you died or something!"

"do you have nothing better to do?! I'm trying to enjoy the fireworks with my boyfriend."

"Him?! You going for witchy hippies?! Wooow your taste has just stayed shit, hasn't it?! This is why you need me back, I actually gave you good taste!"

"You made me listen to country rap that all sung about beating women - I've upgraded!"

You shuffled closest to Solomon, ignoring your ex as they kept trying to pester you

"Can you stop being such a- are you kidding me?! You're never going to change- don't - ignore- you stupid bi-"

The more they began to yell the more powerful fireworks Solomon set off

Almost completely blocking out you exes screams

It got to the point there had to be a fireworks break due to how hectic it got

"this is dumb, I'm leaving." They huffed as you continued to ignore them

"how fortunate, I'm sure I could of started a fire from all that."

"like a fire would of stopped you, thanks for blocking them out."

He kissed your cheek, smiling

"my pleasure~"

Simeon:

He took you ice skating, unfortunately you were terrible at it whilst he was fine

You were both wrapped up warm as he helped you skate across the rink

Your legs wobbled and you slid to face your almost fell over

"hahah, you're adorable but don't worry, you'll be a master of it by the end of tonight."

You slowly got the hang of it, gripping his arm whilst he just smiled, enjoying being so close to you

"i think I got it-! Wait no no no don't let go!"

Just as your small victory gave you a big smile it immediately dropped when your ex skidded over

"What are you odds of you being here, I see you still can't skate."

"so what? You want to bother me about skating? Why not go back to your girlfriend and leave me alone."

They just laughed

"so insistent, if that's what you want~"

They skated past you, bumping into you and you immediately went flying into the ice

Happy you kept your hands close to your face as another skater zoomed by

Simeon hastily helped you back up, dusting Ice off you

"Let's sit down, maybe they won't be here for long."

He helped you off the ice and you both sat on a bench, he got you a warm drink before sitting down

But it wasn't over, your ex coming to where you were sitting still in the rink

"sorry about that, it was a total accident I swear - tell me (Y/N), what made you come here? I bet you were stalking my page again, wanted to see me?"

"no, I just wanted to have a date with my boyfriend."

"It would be best you left us alone, your presence clearly isn't wanted."

"neither was your opinion, from past lover to new, watch yourself because they will destory your heart and your life - nothing will ever be comfortable or happy with them."

"that is untrue-"

"really? Is it? We all know they just like to use people for their kindness and leave them because of a stupid mistake - don't you understand what parties do to people? Huh?! I'm glad I got with her at that party because she's a better partner than you ever were."

You pounded the side of your first to the table, glaring at them with tears in your eyes

"you cheated on me and blames it on alcohol, when I forgave you - it only made you feel happy to keep going back to her! Don't talk to me like you're the victim-!"

Simeon, rubbed your back, frowning at your ex

Your ex just scoffed, skating off

Your boyfriend suddenly stood up and began to march over to the rink

You tried to ask what he was doing but he didn't respond, quickly skating over to your ex

When he caught up he skidded so far they got covered in ice, grabbed your ex with a smile

And suddenly, you didn't see what happened but your ex screamed, darting off the Ice trying to get away from Simeon

When he finally came back he took a sip of your drink and smiled

"let's head back on the ice, I still have to make you a pro."

#obey me #obey me shall we date #gamingclubpresident #aracadejohn217 9 #obey me mc #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me imagine #obey me x reader #valentine's day

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witcher-trash · 3 years

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Weekly Witcher Fic Recs 9

(is this still weekly...? There's a lot this time!)

a little less sixteen candles, a little more touch me (match and kerosene) (eskel/lambert, explicit, complete, 4k, sexual roleplay) “You’ve never said anything about – ” “You’ve never called me that before.”

a more certain position (eskel/geralt/lambert, explicit, complete, 3k, sexual roleplay) Lambert needs a special kind of attention sometimes. Eskel and Geralt are only too happy to make sure he gets it.

Dodge, Parry (lambert & ciri, teen, complete, 2k) When a morning of training at Kaer Morhen is interrupted, Lambert is the only thing standing between Ciri and what's coming. and the remix: Flight (the Dodge, Parry remix)

Do you want me to...? (geralt/jaskier, explicit, complete, 2k) In which Geralt is anxious about giving Jaskier a blow job because he has never done that before and Jaskier is very soft and understandning

ease me of its fever (aiden/lambert, mature, complete, 5k, abo) Lambert may well be the most bad-tempered omega the Wolf School has ever produced. He certainly has no interest in ever letting an alpha between his legs. And then he meets a Cat.

favorite (geralt/jaskier, gen, complete, 6k) Jaskier gets Geralt a gift, and it makes Geralt realize he doesn't know enough about what Jaskier likes. He forms a plan to figure it out.

Fever (eskel/lambert, explicit, complete, 4k, abo) Eskel goes into rut, and it’s much more complicated than Lambert anticipated.

Not Broken (eskel/geralt/lambert, mature, complete, 21k) Life in the School of the Wolf was lonely. As the last of his class, Lambert never had any friends... not until Geralt and Eskel.

Reaching for Gold (eskel/lambert, explicit, wip, 4k) "Ever think you'd make it here?" cut in a voice to his left. Eskel blinked as he looked over to see the man next to him with his head on a swivel, taking it all in. Probably talking to one of his teammates or something, Eskel thought as he quickly looked away, minding his own business. "Y'know, it's strange," the dark-haired man continued. "In a few weeks, maybe a month at most - they'll have forgotten us. It'll be back to our old lives again. Back to training for a lot of us, or a retirement filled with infomercial spots and sponcons. But right now? Life just feels different somehow, doesn't it? You think that's how the original Olympians felt? Back when they were considered heroes and got statues and songs and shit?" "Hmf. Maybe," Eskel rumbled, turning just enough to watch the man next to him but not so much their handlers could complain. "Games used to be a religious rite. Thought winning was a form of immortality, your name living on forever in song and story. 'Course, they also competed in the nude. Could be that's why they got the cheering and statues." "Well if that's all it takes, maybe we should just stage one of those 'wardrobe malfunctions', right?" the guy said with a cheeky grin.

she can fuck you good, but i can fuck you better (eskel/geralt/jaskier, explicit, complete, 3k) Geralt and Jaskier have a problem: they can’t find themselves a suitable bull for their cuckolding play. That is, until they meet Eskel on the Path, and Geralt realizes a few things.

Spicy Pheasant (jaskier/lambert, teen, complete, 2k) It’s their two year anniversary and Jaskier wants to do something nice for his returning hunter. Unfortunately, cookery wasn’t one of the seven liberal arts.

The Dandelion's Plight - series (geralt/eskel, teen, 50k, wip, fae jaskier) Ah yes, the melodrama of having a heart. Jaskier is well acquainted. He would like to grieve its pieces in peace without all the wars and feuds in the way but alas fate is not kind to pining bards who have little common sense.

then send down the storm (remix) (aiden/lambert, geralt/lambert, geralt/lambert/yennefer, explicit, complete, 15k) One summer, Lambert went south and met a Cat Witcher. Much of his life afterward hinged on that singular moment.

The Sin Eater (geralt/jaskier, explicit, wip, 15k, demon jaskier) “He doesn’t have much time now,” the demon observed, “Even Witchers need oxygen. This is your only hope of saving him.” Jaskier’s face went firm and determined, turning back to the creature with no sign of his earlier hesitation. The demon looked amused. “Are you sure he’d worth giving up so much?” “All that and more,” Jaskier whispered. Then he stepped into the circle. To save Geralt, Jaskier lets himself be possessed by the demon he was hunting. Will there be anything left of the bard for Geralt to save?

#the witcher #geraskier #lamden #geralt of rivia #jaskier #eskel/lambert #eskel/geralt/lambert #eskel/geralt/jaskier #geralt/lambert #fic recs

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cherry-lipbalm · 3 years

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a son of a bitch in a camper van. spencer reid.

3.9k words.

masterlist

the gif’s a bit blurry yet he’s still endearing x

in which things happen just like that.

Local law enforcement, accompanied by the BAU, have been sitting in a besieging of this goddamn camper van for so long now that the majority of them were highly considering setting up a tent. If it hadn't been already, it sure as hell was scraping up to be a long night.

Spencer couldn't feel his feet, and he had given up on aiming his gun at the RV a long time ago. The sheriffs had been handing out fold-up chairs for those who were observing any potential activity and hadn't resorted to lounging in their cars.

Morgan had offered his to Spencer, who took it gratefully after he got up from falling on his ass when Derek pulled it out from under him. Spencer was only just about to jump on him when they spotted Hotch's glare from over his shoulder. This is a crime scene they could practically hear him say, so Spencer settled for a harsh shove on his colleague's arm and they left it at that.

And that was probably the most exciting thing to have happened over the course of this man-watch; and that was... three hours ago, now? Time, at this point, had become unsubstantial.

"Are we sure he's even still in there?" Morgan asked, gesturing to the derelict camper van a few yards away from them. He had retrieved another chair, and was sat behind the barricade of police cars, but nonetheless held tightly onto the gun resting in his lap.

"I think so," Spencer squinted over the red and blues, assessing the vehicle. If you could even call it that; the thing was basically crumbling to pieces. As much as he believed it, he couldn't comprehend how someone was actually in there, and for so long. It looked uninhabitable.

"The whole thing’s surrounded," a new voice interjected into the conversation, "he went in, and hasn't come out. Detectives say they can see him walking about now and then."

Morgan and Reid both turned in their chairs. If the dire situation surrounding them wasn't so obvious, one could have easily believed they were on a fishing trip of some sorts, except one should know that Morgan had already taken Spencer fishing once, and the result was... eventful, to say the least. A trip to the ER and five stitches later, Reid vowed to never do anything with Morgan ever again.

"Hey, sugar. How you holdin' up?" Morgan greeted, relaxing back into his not-so-relaxing chair.

Y/N sighed, a guttural groan emitting from the exudation of her breath. She looked up to the sky, and was thankful that at least they had a pretty night to look at, because this guy was not moving any time soon.

Reid and Morgan both assessed her as she stepped out from behind their set-up, coming out of the shadows almost menacingly, into the light of police sirens and the distant lamp beaming from inside the camper van.

"I'd be holding up a lot better if this bastard did something," she said. Her feet crunched the soil as she grabbed a spare chair and planted it next to Spencer. He tried to resist the urge to pull back her chair. Emphasis on the word tried.

When Y/N's bum didn't connect with the seat, the realisation hit her too late and all she could do was let out a yell while she headed straight for the ground.

"Oh, you dick!" She cried when she plummeted into the grass. Looking at her mud-ridden hands in disgust, she didn't hesitate to wipe it on Spencer's beloved dress shirt, making sure to taint his sweater vest too.

"Hey! Hey!" He retracted frantically, shoving himself into the side of his chair to get away from Y/N and her hands that could deposit any more Earth onto him. All the while, Morgan laughed his head off, almost facing the same fate as Y/N when his chair leaned back from his laughing fit.

"Children," Hotch called, reprimanding them over Y/N's grimaces and the boys' amusement, which quickly ended when they saw the Unit Chief striding over.

"Did you see that, Hotch? That's harassment in the workplace!"

"Can I please remind you that we are on a crime scene. We are the FBI, and no doubt are going to make a lasting impression on local law enforcement, is this really how you want to be remembered?"

The three fell into sullen expressions, bowing their heads ashamedly as to not make eye contact with him. But Morgan was still snickering subtly behind his hand, and Spencer was biting down on his lip to avoid a sudden burst of laughter that he knew would be more than inevitable while they were being scolded due to the pseudobulbar effect; he'd explain it to them when they were no longer being rebuked.

Eventually Hotch did walk away, leaving them with a castigating glare Y/N knew she wouldn't be able to shake. In response, she took the subsequent silence as an opportunity to slap Spencer on the arm, hard.

"Ow!" He hushed, immediately rubbing his bicep where he was sure a bruise would be forming. If he wasn't aching he would be impressed that she managed to inflict so much pain from so low down.

"Nice one, you got me in trouble with Hotch!" She hissed. Derek had resumed laughing.

"Sorry, teacher's pet," Spencer called her. Then, whispered here we go to himself at what he had just unavoidably instigated.

"Coming from you?" Morgan and Y/L/N said simultaneously, a snark tone to their words. He pursed his lips and looked to them blankly, rolling his eyes at their unified laughter.

They all eased a bit after that, despite the wake of Hotch's wrath. Spencer pulled Y/N up from the ground, and then began to aid her in wiping the soil from her trousers, prompting an awkward encounter when he realised his hand was right on her ass. She gave him a glare, and he raised his muddy hands in surrender while he sat back down, leaving her to do it herself.

When she was somewhat clean, she dragged her chair back and sat in it, pointing a warning finger in Spencer's face as she did so to let him know not to try anything sneaky.

When she relaxed, Y/N thought the scenery was quite nice; get rid of the police cars, black SUVs and the serial killer less than ten metres away from them and it could make for an ideal holiday destination. All they needed was a couple of beers and a bonfire.

Ah, fire. Warmth! Y/N was beginning to forget what it felt like. She wrapped herself further into the complimentary FBI jacket she'd been given upon her arrival to the team. It made for cool recognition, and got her into a lot of places, but, god, did it do fuck all for practical thermal purposes.

"You're cold?" Spencer queried when he noticed her enveloping her arms around herself.

"Freezing," she replied.

"You should go in the car. Emily put the heating on in there earlier, it'll be warm now."

"What? And leave all the fun for you guys? Over my dead body," she turned her head to shoot him a smirk. He inhaled deeply, faltering a smile in her direction and let a comfortable silence fall between them. Y/N even painted on a genuine grin for him, and let the blush she felt warm her up from the cold.

The next few minutes after this go very quickly, but from what Y/N can barely grasp, it goes like this: the camper van's door is thrown open, and out comes this beast of a man who, if he had them, would have had guns blazing. This is evident from his demeanour; the word beast did not originate from his physique, no, he is a fragile, small boy, but the way he is yelling and screaming is nothing of the juvenile sort. And so, he is doing his yelling and screaming and, frankly, taking no prisoners.

All he has on him is a revolver, but it's enough for every police officer and agent to swing into action. Spencer and Morgan's chairs both fall to the ground upon the abruptness of how they suddenly stand, guns drawn. Y/N is already one step ahead of them, and fails to shield herself from their unsub behind any car door like everyone else had the sense to; even if he were without weapons, they were facing the human embodiment of the word danger.

Spencer shouts at Y/N to defend herself, but she pretends she doesn't hear because this bastard made her wait four hours in the freezing cold, the least she could do was have an eye on him, so Spencer takes her cover.

Which turns out to be the fault in this story, because Spencer loves Y/N. And anyone with a pair of eyes can see it and, unfortunately for them, their unsub happened to have a pair of eyes.

He sees the way this pipe cleaner of a man is aiming his gun at him so determinedly, and how his gaze is switching between him and this girl in a frivolous FBI jacket. And he's already blissfully aware that there's no way he is getting out of here alive, but if he is going down then he's sure as hell taking someone with him. He only has one bullet and figures it's a 2 for 1 deal judging by the way pipe-cleaner man is so obviously in love with shitty-jacket girl. And then next thing anyone knows is Y/N is on the ground again but this time a bullet has buried itself in her chest.

Spencer takes the shot, and then a few more even though their unsub has fallen to the ground. And as much as he wants to rush over to Y/N he knows he doesn't have the emotional capacity to see what state she is in, but what he does have is rage, and a whole lot of it, so he just keeps on shooting. He's already dead but that doesn't matter. He keeps shooting until his barrel is empty and Hotch is pulling him away.

A detective approaches the unsub, even though his fate is more than assured, while a flurry of people surround Y/N, falling to her side, but she's only asking for one.

"Spencer," she utters. It hurts for her to talk or even breathe but she knows the pain will only continue so she pays the small price of adding to it in order to make sure Spencer is by her side for the remainder of it all.

Morgan grabs the boy, shakes him from his trance and then pushes him through the crowd so he can kneel beside Y/N. The squelching noise of his trousers drenching in her blood almost makes him vomit, but he swallows it down for Y/N's sake. He already covered her in mud, he knows better than to be sick on her too.

"Y/N," his voice trembles, but the way he turns to shout at the people around him is so full of strength and fury that people jump immediately into action. He yells for an ambulance, even though there's already one on scene and it's just behind them, but what else can he do?

"I'm fine," Y/N manages, "I'm fine."

She was not, indeed, fine.

She tries to scramble to her feet, but finds she can't even attempt sitting up without a pain searing throughout her whole body, ripping her nerves apart like resolute Velcro.

"It's alright," Spencer says, panicked as he tries to keep her from hurting herself. He brushes the blood-stained hair from her face but regrets it when he sees how it's contorted in pain. Thankfully, she soon relaxes, until he realises that's not a good thing at all.

"No, no, Y/N, stay with me alright? Can you do that? Listen to me!"

So he's yelling at the girl he loves, which is no use because she can't hear him and her eyes are already closed. He's so desperate that he pushes her eyelids open himself, but what lies underneath is unresponsive. He holds his hand tightly over what pulse she has left.

Y/N is dying in Spencer's arms. And she can't help but think that if she was to go, she wouldn't mind it to be here and now. But, with what lingering conscious remains, she realises it wouldn't be her who would have to face the repercussions of her death, it would be her friends. Her family. Spencer.

Spencer who had done nothing but love her ferociously ever since they had met; silently and from afar, but passionately nonetheless. She loved him too correspondingly and too much to kill him with the grief.

So she takes a breath.

But he doesn't even have a chance to say goodbye, never mind ask to go in the back of the ambulance with her when she is ripped from his grasp and placed onto the gurney. The ambulance doors slam close and he forgets what it feels like to move. Morgan's hand on his shoulder feels foreign, and when he does eventually move, it's a surge of chaos.

Their unsub isn't receiving any medical attention, because Reid sorted that out irrefutably, so there's really not that many people around and Morgan isn't even fully aware to stop him when Spencer steals his gun from his holster and marches to the corpse lying in the grass. Surrounded by the greenery, the son of a bitch looks almost peaceful so, when Spencer is unloading the bullets on him, he makes sure to add a few in his face for good measure.

This time, no one stops him.

———

"How is she?" JJ asks, who's only just arrived at the hospital in a hurry after receiving the call. She's pretty tenacious considering the situation, especially when you compare her to the ball of pink and panic standing next to her.

"Is she alright? Oh, God, please let her be alright," Garcia utters. She's straight in Derek's arms, who's been crying but to no one's acknowledgement because they all decided they need to be strong, for Y/N's sake. Still, it doesn't stop JJ shedding a few tears from moment to moment.

"She's in surgery," is all Hotch says, because it's all he knows. One minute he was scolding her to get off the ground and the next he was begging her to.

JJ takes a seat immediately next to Emily, and they unanimously clutch onto each other's hands. Opposite them, Morgan and Garcia do the same. It is here that JJ realises the person who should probably be in the company of his friends the most, isn't.

"Where's Spence?"

"Bathroom," Morgan tells her. "He's been in there a while. Won't talk to anyone."

So when Spencer does come out, almost on cue a few seconds later, everyone stands up attentively and tries to decide whether they will ignore his red eyes. They do, and Spencer sits down in a chair next to Morgan. He virtually collapses into his side.

Morgan is reminded of their fishing trip turned ER trip a few months prior. From the way Spencer is resting dependently on his shoulder, the days are identical, except this time Spencer's pain isn't physical and can't be fixed with five stitches.

Everyone looks at Spencer with evident pity, so he burrows himself further into Morgan's t-shirt. When Derek feels the wet indication of tears, he stands up with an arm wrapped around his shoulders and says "let's take a walk".

Spencer doesn't want to, but he's already reached the grieving stage and his body and mind are no longer connected. The only way in which they are associated is that Spencer's mind is mush and his limbs are moving so similarly sluggishly that Morgan is verging on dragging him along the hallways.

Just when Spencer is thinking that Morgan has really just brought him to aimlessly wander the corridors, his friend stops him and holds onto his shoulders. He notices how he has to look away for a moment because he never really managed to register just how bloodshot his eyes were.

"Listen here, pretty boy. You got a girl in there who is fighting for her life. She is, without a doubt, scared, okay? So you need to be strong for her and for yourself, alright? And when she pulls through, because she will, you've gotta take that strength, and you've gotta use it," Morgan said. He was prodding a finger to Spencer's chest to try and get his message across, but he had no idea what that message entailed.

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying you gotta get your girl, man," his shoulders dropped.

Spencer's face portrays a small smile like he always does when he's hopeless, and his mutterings are almost drowned out by the incessant beeping of hospital machinery, but Morgan catches them.

"What if I don't get a chance to?"

They're interrupted then, much to Morgan's gratitude, because he really didn't know how he was going to respond to that.

Hotch is at the end of the hallway, his chest rising quickly in a pant. Spencer fears the worst.

"She's out."

And suddenly, nothing else matters. Not to Spencer, at least. He shoots off down the hallway like a rock in a catapult; so quickly that Morgan doesn't even ascertain his disappearance until the news has sunk in and he's chasing after him too.

He keeps thinking that. Nothing else matters, nothing else matters. He repeats the mantra in his head while he meanders frantically through the halls; he lost sight of Hotch a while ago when he raced past him and now he's realised he doesn't even know where Y/N is. Nothing else matters he justifies when he bumps into a nurse during his frenzy and doesn't have the time nor consideration to apologise.

When he reaches a small empty square, with four hallways sprouting from it, he cradles his hands behind his head and tries to control his breathing; something he's forgotten how to do correctly. He steps forward, hoping his feet will just know where to go.

Somehow, they do.

He's only taken one step, but when he advances into the hallway to his right, he hears someone breathe his name; it's weak, and feeble, but he'd know her voice anywhere.

His mouth is already agape when he looks over. The door is wide open, just like his eyes with a mixture of hope and fear-stricken astonishment. Inside the room the team is crowded around the bed, looking down on the fragile agent.

Just like before, he forgets what it feels like to move. His feet are stuck in place and even though his mind is racing there is no telling his limbs to do... anything. So, for now, he just peers into the room. Y/N's eyes are begging him to enter but he can't bring himself to do it. If he walks in that means it's real. The heart monitor, the bandages, the dried blood coating her neck that the nurses missed in their clean up: it's all real.

"Reid, trust me. This is a hell of a better ending, okay? This is the one you want," Morgan clasps his hand down on Spencer's shoulder, hissing to him to try and spark some kind of unlikely reaction, but to no avail. Spencer didn't even realise Morgan and Hotch had caught up to him.

He enviously watches them enter the room with such ease. They kiss Y/N's cheek and hug her close. Morgan leans his hands on the end of the hospital bed and tries to talk to her, but she's only looking at Spencer with betrayal in her eyes.

Before Spencer can whisper a futile apology and rush out of the hospital, his brain almost goes into override, suddenly providing him with all the reasons he should do anything but that.

He sees Y/N's face, the way she smiled at him before. The way she's always smiled at him. He hears her laughter, feels her touch. He feels the warmth he experiences whenever she is near. And suddenly, again, nothing else matters.

Nothing but you.

Hotch instinctively lets a hand hover over his holster due to the precipitous manner Spencer barges into the room with. The sole of his shoes squeak against the floor in his hurry and Y/N would grimace if she had the space to because next thing she knows Spencer's lips are on hers and his hands are encasing her face in a way that doesn't make her feel claustrophobic like she always thought it would.

She can't help but think how embarrassing it is that her coworkers are watching this scene unfold —her boss too, and she knows he'll probably be obliged to give them some talk about appropriate behaviour between colleagues, but she doesn't care. Nothing else matters but Spencer.

He doesn't stop there, Spencer wants to kiss her more and Y/N is more than happy to allow it. Her fingers can only fondle the wrinkle of his shirt because it hurts to much to raise her arms, but Spencer is practically lying on top of her and she can get a good feel of his torso through the clothing. His warmth radiates onto her and she hums happily against his lips. When he begins to pull away, she grabs onto his tie and doesn't let him.

She thinks a few of the team have turned around, because it's eerily silent except for a few sniggers from —who she assumed— Morgan, and excited squeals from —who she knew was— Garcia.

When Spencer pulled away, successfully this time, he let out a deep breath.

"I'm sorry," he croaked.

"For what?"

"I should have covered you."

"Shut up. From what I've heard you covered me pretty well," she said, and Spencer knew she had been told about his vengeful face-shooting incident. He bowed his head, and smiled weakly when Y/N pulled him back up from his tie. It became less weak when she pecked his lips.

"I'm okay," she whispered to him, like they were the only ones in the room, "we're okay. He's gonna rot for it."

Spencer nodded, and what he couldn't say in words he made up for in affection: his kisses were short, but none lacked the passion that was necessary to tell her how he felt. She felt every one of his kisses throughout her body. Where her chest ached with the pain of being shot now burned with a feverish love for Spencer.

"I, uh, I am going to have to hold a seminar on fraternisation next week," Hotch leaned forward to interject, which worked a treat in eliciting the laughter needed to brighten the mood.

Those that had turned swirled back on their heels and beamed at the new couple. Spencer sat on the edge of Y/N's bed, his hands encased around hers and resting on his lap. They exchanged assuring glances momentarily within the soft conversations of the team.

When Y/N looked up to Spencer again she smiled, and he knew she was thinking the same thing as himself: these people matter, and you, you matter the most.

fin.

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