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#if at least one person feels better ill be happy
patsmassivekeychain · 4 months
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Ok more coherent thoughts now. I can already see how this ending is probably going to be divisive and to an extent I understand why. Before it aired, I wasn't keen on the idea of the show ending like this. People don't like endings where the found family go their separate ways, except that isn't really what's happening here. And I think the way they did it was perfect.
Alison has come in and completely turned these ghosts' unlives around. She's given them purpose, connections with the outside world and each other, and above all a lack of boredom. Boredom is one of the main existential challenges the ghosts face. Alison isn't abandoning them to what they had before she came - she's leaving them with the tools to actually live rather than just exist after her.
And she's not gone forever! Families don't have to live together to be family. She comes back and visit them regularly! Maybe it's just because I moved out from my parents' in the last few years and I'm back for Christmas, but her being a regular at the hotel, coming back and visiting them at least every Christmas (maybe more) was very moving to me. Just because she's moved out doesn't mean they're not still family.
Having it become a hotel is a nice bookend and I bet it's improved the ghosts' quality of unlife a lot. As I said, their biggest challenge has always been boredom. A hotel/golf course probably isn't at all boring. How many affairs do you think Julian has watched? It's perfect for them, with all the people coming and going. I bet they even stage the odd haunting for fun. A constant, varied existence is a great fate for them.
Ending the episode with the plague ghosts was PERFECT. Obviously, it was great to see them again and it was hilarious as they always are. But it struck me just how much this decision has improved their situation - they've gone from dingy cellar to sauna. And that's the analogy of how much things have improved for all the ghosts.
Change is scary. It's sad when things come to an end. But sometimes it's for the best. And an end doesn't always mean a closed door.
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pepprs · 2 years
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covid is such an evil evil disease and an evil evil thing to live through lol
#purrs#this isn’t prompted by anything im just thinking about it. i hate that thisis what life looks and feels like now and it might always be thi#way. i hate that getting covid feels like an inevitability even though i wear n95s and don’t go anywhere but work and have basically 0#social life and have put my life plans on hold to wait for this thing to pass when it probably never will. i hate that lockdown was better#and easier than this in some ways because at least back then people were still scared and there still felt like hope and there was clear(is#) guidance and free testing and vax sites and whatever. i hate that free testing and public health dashboards showing covid rates and vax s#sites and all that shit have fucking disappeared even though the variants going around now are more contagious than ever. i hate the#mortifying ordeal of being the only person (or one of the only people) wearing an n95 and sometimes the only person wearing a mask at all.#hate that so many things have been lost and we are not taking time to grieve them or make sure that we are okay and will be okay. i hate#being scared every time i swallow. i hate how there is literally no way to tell if you will get long covid and no way to reduce your chance#of getting long covid or covid at all (aside from masks) just ways to make the symptoms less severe. i hate trying to bring people together#and stay away from people at the same time. i hate all the life that covid has taken out of me and the people i love even though thank god#know more people who haven’t gotten it than who have but actually that may not be true idk. and i HATE that because of covid and how#egregiously badly it has been handled everyone is just like.. perpetually tired and sad and we’ve accepted mass illness and death and#accepted that disabled people (esp those who are marginalized in other ways) are disposable when actually no fucking human being is#disposable and everyone should be able to live happy connected healthy lives and we could’ve ended this shit in EARLY 2020 without having t#deal with any of this absolute fucking NIGHTMARE. like god. i remember sobbing hysterically thinking we would be dealing with covid for 18#months and now we’re coming on 3 fucking years and lockdown is over but the danger is even worse than it was and like.. no one cares anymor#and it fucking sucks lmfao. i am so tired. i need to move out. and i miss my friends and i miss my life and i miss having fewer things to#constantly worry about and i can’t believe how good and simple life was before this stupid shit.#delete later#i wasn’t planning on going on a huge rant lol sorry it’s just what’s on my mind this morning
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orphanbasement · 5 months
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Feeling deeply inadequate over my inability to express excitement about the things my friends make
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miamicommune · 8 months
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man. when u leave the worst Imaginable part of ur life and ur still sad u rly do crave something worth being sad over
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snapscube · 10 months
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so i don't know if this is a post i'm gonna keep up cause, like i said, i don't really like talking candidly about aspects of my personal identity often these days, and lord knows i especially hate talking about legal identity and all the dissonance that entails. but this week was a pretty big one for me and i can't shake the desire to share my enthusiasm for even just a fleeting moment.
my name has been a sticking point in my mind for a long time. i've adopted many different ones. first, middle, last, you name it. i've been searching most of my life for a moniker that represented my true self socially, and a surname to distance myself from someone in my life who hurt me very badly and never really learned how to stop.
obviously for a long time now I've been Penny Parker to 98% of people who know me, and for the past couple that number has been bumped up to a solid 99% with a few stragglers. it's a name that is so mundane and assumed at this point that tbh I've even come to resent certain aspects of it. which to me is actually beautiful. i find that mundanity, that nuance, extremely telling of how it encapsulates my life. it's a fully three-dimensional reflection, smudges and sparkles and everything in between.
of course, i only just moved out on my own 3 years ago. and unfortunately that had to be the starting point to make this social and personal progress i've been sitting on for half a decade at least now official, tangible, legal. i've been playing a game of catch-up i didn't sign up for, but it's one that does have a silver lining in that i feel more in resonance with who i am and who i want to be than i ever did before being granted this independence.
and as of this week, i have the pleasure of entering an era of my life where the dissonance between who i am in speech and who i am in contract is nonexistent. my name is Penny Olivia Parker. i'm the same as i've always been, but getting better every day at it. soon i'll even have a license to match!
sometimes more of an Olivia Parker in brief moments nowadays tbh but i haven't worked out the details yet. nothin you need to stress over, ill take care of it. the full set is just fine and legally recognized, which is all i've wanted for as long as i can remember.
this isn't the end of my journey, both excitingly and unfortunately haha, but this is yet another huge milestone for me and in certain respects it's one of the biggest i've managed. i'm so happy to still be here. if you're reading this, thank you for being here too.
also those of you who watched my direct reactions the other day might have a little more insight as to why i was so emotional that the day after a judge signed my legal name change a new game by the Sonic Mania devs was announced called "Penny's Big Breakaway" LOL, it was a lot to handle for me but i wasn't sure how much i wanted to say just yet.
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caligvlasaqvarivm · 2 months
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Murder, Love, and Destiny: An Eridan Ampora Character Study
Warnings for things from Homestuck, like discussions of child abuse, mental illness, murder, suicide, etc. etc.
Because there's a huge wall of text after this point, I'm going to summarize what I hope to convince you of in bullet point format, and then hope you'll actually read the rest of the text before arguing with me about it.
Eridan is the least casteist highblood, if you ignore all the slurs.
Those are his emotional support slurs.
Pale EriKar was not only canon, but set up to be endgame.
Eridan is incredibly plot-relevant, thematically relevant, and was definitely originally intended to be brought back to life, alongside the other dead trolls.
He's Sad.
The first thing we have to establish is what counts as "canon" for the purpose of this essay. I am only counting the original comic up to Game Over, after which there's a general consensus that Hussie kind of gave up on his original planned ending, and slapped together something that most people hate. So I am immediately disqualifying Pesterquest, supplementary material, fanworks deemed canon, the epilogues, and Homestuck^2.
Moreover, we are taking Hussie's commentaries with a grain of salt, for two reasons. The first reason is that I firmly believe - and will be arguing - that the original plan was to bring Eridan (and the other dead trolls) back; therefore, Hussie (who has a track record of playing coy with future plot twists) can't speak too fondly of him, lest he give it away. The second reason for de-emphasizing Hussie's words is that, post-retcon, Hussie isn't very well going to say that he had plans for a better ending, and then didn't execute on them; to save face, he has to act as though his trashing of several prior plot threads, including but not limited to Eridan, was the plan all along.
Therefore, this essay will not be putting too much emphasis on Word of God, and will instead be relying on textual evidence from the comic itself, of which there is plenty. So without further ado:
Eridan is a Consummate Murderer.
The reason I'm starting with this point is that, far more than any other, this truth lies at the core of his being. Eridan is formally introduced to us with a murder, and he's haunted by an overpowering genocide complex. He outright describes to Rose at one point that "killin is all i evver done practically," and uses "murder" as an expletive (ie "swweet stinkin murder"). With a conservative estimate of 5 kills per week for 4 sweeps (Vriska looks VERY young when she has to start killing, and Eridan was likely a similar age when he began), both Eridan and Vriska easily have bodycounts above 2000 - the real number is probably even higher.
At this point, many raise an objection that Eridan is only killing lusii, but I believe we need to count his kills as troll murders, for three reasons: first, a dead lusus results in the orphaned troll being culled; second, one has to assume he has had cases of trolls trying to defend their lusii, or coming after him for vengeance; and third - and most importantly - Eridan HIMSELF is thinking about the orphaned trolls.
Compare Feferi: Go Home:
That should keep her happy for a while. At least until she dies.
To Eridan: Go Home:
That should keep her happy for a while. And make a freshly orphaned troll somewhere very sad.
So Eridan, to a much greater extent than even Feferi, is thinking about the orphaned trolls he's leaving behind, and considers his own actions to be murder.
Now that we've established the facts regarding his murders - a rough bodycount, and the fact that, by his own admission, he barely had any hobbies outside of it - we can move on to the effect that it's had on him. It's not very good!
Vriska's manipul8tions and murders had to be done for her own sake - if she ever stopped, she died. Therefore, much of Vriska's personality revolves around justifying her own actions so she doesn't have to reckon with her softer feelings, like guilt or kindness - which she expresses would be viewed as scandalous by others of her caste.
But if Eridan ever stops feeding Gl'bgolyb, everybody dies. The stakes he has riding on his shoulders are, at all times, the fate of all trolls, including all his friends. Given Dualscar's title was "Orphaner," it's implied that killing lusii for Gl'bgolyb has always been a violet blood's duty, and is seen as such by the others, which is why nobody expresses gratitude for his hard work even a single time.
Which brings us to our next point:
Eridan is Crushed by Anxiety.
If Eridan stops killing lusii, everybody - especially his friends, but everybody else, too - dies.
If Eridan ever shows guilt or kindness, he'll be considered "weak" by the standards of highbloods - he shares this with Vriska.
Eridan is expected, by aristocratic tradition, to take on the mantle of his ancestor Dualscar and finish his work. Dualscar met a comedically cringefail end, so this is a massive undertaking.
Before finding out that god tiering is an option - so, for nearly his entire life - Eridan has had to live with the expectation that he will outlive all of his friends. The lowbloods from culling or dying on the battlefield, the highbloods from old age, and Feferi from being killed by the Empress when she gets old enough.
(This is reflected in who he talks to the most - Feferi, who's the only one with a natural lifespan longer than his, Vriska, who's a highblood, Kanaya, who's practically guaranteed to survive into adulthood, and Karkat, whose anonblood allows Eridan to give him the benefit of the doubt.)
Also if he can't land his concupiscent quadrants he'll die from that too, but that seems pretty secondary to the rest of his concerns.
He can't even make friends with the other highbloods, because sea dwellers are expected to hate and antagonize them.
He had a free ticket into adulthood, but would almost certainly be expected to join the army and serve as a commander. That is to say, his fate of performing the role of a vicious, murderous sea dweller seems dreadfully inevitable to him.
NO WONDER he can't stop having emotional breakdowns. NO WONDER his chatlogs swing wildly from relentless self-aggrandizement to traumadumping. NO WONDER he's obsessed with murder and death and genocide.
Doc Scratch calls him a "vengeful boy on the path of nihilism," and it's not hard to see why: Eridan's entire life has been about living up to the role imposed on him by society, sacrificing his own time and sanity for everyone else, which he "nevver got any appreciation for anywway." And all he had to look forward to was more of the same, all his friends dropping dead one by one before him. For Eridan, there has never been any hope.
SGRUB could have been a way out for him, but a combination of his own terrible choices, spurred on by his anxieties, and his teammates' unwillingness to knock some sense into him, meant that he only wound up mired even deeper in his hopelessness.
We all know about how Eridan wouldn't stop killing the angels on his planet, provoking their aggression and turning it into a ball of death. How he was definitely not supposed to be doing this, and how his stubborn insistence on it led to his further ostracization from the rest of the group. The thing is, when we look at his angel-murders from the point of view that Eridan's entire life has been about murdering things or else Something Bad™ happens, it actually starts to become... kind of sad.
KARKAT: BETWEEN A TRIGGERHAPPY PRINCE WITH A GOD WEAPON BLASTING ANYTHING THAT TWITCHED AND A MILLION CRAZED ANGELS HE DELIBERATELY ENRAGED, IT WASN'T WHAT I'D CALL AN IDEAL SOCIAL HUB. KARKAT: IF YOU WERE LONELY WHY DIDN'T YOU VENTURE OUT MORE OFTEN? ERIDAN: wwell i wwoulda but nobody else wwas vvolunteerin to pick up the slack on angel killin duties
Killing the angels is something he feels like his has to do, because his entire life has been about killing things he doesn't want to kill. He's unable to break out of that mindset on his own, and his unpleasant personality has scared off anyone who might want to help. No one on the team tries to understand his thought process on a deeper level, not even Karkat, who just tells him it was an idiotic thing to do without addressing his underlying anxieties at all. Indeed, "nobody understands."
And this is really the root of why I think so many people get the wrong read on Eridan - Eridan is constantly contradicting himself, constantly denying his own feelings, constantly pushing an image that he doesn't actually believe in, and constantly insisting that he's fine with all the horrible shit in his life - that he likes it, even. After all, he can't admit to his guilt for his murders, or how much he doesn't want to watch his friends die, or how scared he is about the future - that'd be weakness!
CC: I can't look after you anymore. CA: I DIDNT EVER NEED ANYONE TO LOOK AFTER ME CA: i was totally fuckin fine my ambitions were noble
You see his contradictory nature with his stated love of history, which he only ever offhandedly mentions - because he's not actually that interested in history, it's just something that's expected of someone of his station. And you see it with his wavy accent, which he himself calls "weird" and drops when he's trying to be emotionally sincere. And you see it with his dumbass outfit, which is very clearly an imitation of Dualscar (with the only exception being the wizard-ass scarf, because wizards are his actual interest. I don't believe he likes fashion. I genuinely believe - and Eridan himself says so - that he basically has no hobbies outside of murder).
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Even being proud to be a sea dweller is pretty much an outright lie:
CC: You can't )(ave t)(e sort of affinity for "our kind" t)(at you profess if you've only spent, w)(at... CC: A few days underwater, maybe? IN YOUR W)(OL-E LIF-E!
One that he tells because he's SCARED OF THE OCEAN. Because he knows what lives in the ocean, because he's been feeding it his entire life. I see a lot of people who give Eridan an interest in marine life, and I'm telling you, that's just got no basis in canon. He's fucking TERRIFIED of the sea.
And for that matter, land dweller genocide. Eridan doesn't want to do it. Both Feferi AND his internal narration call him out for not actually wanting to do it. He outright states he wouldn't kill his friends.
CA: wwell CA: im not goin to vvery wwell kill you am i that wwould be fuckin unconscionable CA: wwhat kind of friend wwould i be
But he feels like he HAS to want it, HAS to believe in it, HAS to be talking about it constantly, because that's what's expected from him as a sea dweller, and a sea dweller is ALL that he will get to be. The mutation that puts a violet streak in his hair is damning. It's a fate he feels like he can't escape. Which brings us to:
Eridan is Not Actually Casteist, Well He Is But Not Like That, It's Complicated
Secondary title: Those Are His Emotional Support Slurs, Okay
In the exact same vein (haha) as secretly not wanting all the land dwellers dead, Eridan also genuinely doesn't feel like he's better than lower blood castes. Vriska and Equius obviously put quite a bit of stock into being nobility, and both have acted superior to Karkat for it. Feferi actually revels in her high status, and while she is genuinely well-meaning, she's not as interested in abolishing casteism as she is in changing the meaning of "culling" specifically (the hemocaste, aristocracy, and casteism still very much exist in a Beforus under her rule). Gamzee MIGHT be the only highblood less casteist than Eridan, but then again, as soon as he snaps, he does say a lot of casteist stuff to Equius, although it's unclear how serious he is, and he also proceeds to get really into his weird highblood clown cult.
Meanwhile, Eridan - despite all his slurs and talk of genocide - does not actually try to "pull rank" on a lowblood for being a lower caste than him with a single exception. That exception is Sollux... after he's already shown having entirely caste-neutral opinions on Sollux:
CC: But Sollux finally came t)(roug)(, and now I believe t)(e full c)(ain is complete! CA: man that guy CA: hes a fuckin drama machine it is fuckin pathetic CC: YOUR STUPID FIS)(Y FAC-E IS T)(-E DRAMA MAC)(IN-E T)(AT DO-ES NOT)(ING BUT W)(IN-E AND GLUB. CC: 38P CA: fuck SORRY CC: Anyway you s)(ouldn't say t)(at about )(im, )(e is a )(ero and )(e saved my life. CA: yeah sorry
CA: my feelins seem petty and meaninless noww CA: she had better things to wworry about than my ovverwwrought bullshit CA: like the dead guy wwho savved her CA: so forget it thanks anywway
It's only AFTER he's mad at Sollux for dating Feferi that he starts going in on Sollux with casteist rhetoric... which is treated as unrequited flirting and not serious casteism:
ERIDAN: hey finless this doesnt concern those wwith mustard sludge slippin through their vveins ERIDAN: its a matter for royalty only ERIDAN: so keep your mouth closed or ill slit you open ovver my next meal SOLLUX: w/e bro, not iintere2ted. FEFERI: -Eridan, please! I don't want to see any more dueling. FEFERI: Don't try to provoke )(im. It's not like I don't know w)(at you're doing! You keep trying to spark a rivalry wit)( )(im to get me to auspisticize between you two, and pull us out of our quadrant! FEFERI: It is t)(e oldest and lamest trick in t)(e book. It didn't work t)(en and it won't work now!
THEY don't even think he's being casteist.
In fact, directly contradicting this earlier argument he has with Feferi:
CC: T)(is is t)(e last time I will say t)(is. CC: W-E AR-E NOT B-ETT-ER T)(AN ANYBODY!!!!! CC: GLUB. >38( CA: pshh CA: hemospectrum begs to differ
He OUTRIGHT states his real feelings here:
CA: im the biggest fuckin idiot who ever lived CA: i cant BELIEVE i just opened up to you like a chump when i knew what was comin CA: i am one sad fuckin brinesucker CA: overemotional sappy trash youre right im not better than anybody CA: im worse than anybody CA: EVERYBODY CA: all the bodies
So the question of "is Eridan casteist" has an answer of "kind of, but also no." Eridan DOES espouse the rhetoric; he's constantly saying stuff that a casteist sea dweller "should" be saying. However, if you look at his ACTIONS, and the way he actually treats people, he doesn't actually care about blood color. He'll hit on anybody, and he's rude as fuck to everybody. The real problem with him is that he's terrible to talk to, not that he's discriminatory.
That's the thing about Eridan. Understanding him means looking past the way he presents himself, the lies he tells to himself, and even, at times, the way the narration presents him. His "overblown emotional theatrics" seem a lot less overblown when his problems ARE so real, deep-seated, and constantly causing him an unimaginable amount of anguish.
The problem is, the main people he has to bounce those problems against are Feferi, Vriska, and Kanaya, three of the people most comfortable with their privileged positions, for whom Eridan's genuine emotional distress seems like needless melodrama. Feferi loves being a princess, Vriska enjoys her noble privileges, Kanaya doesn't need to worry about culling. But for Eridan, his noble status, and the duties and expectations placed on him for it, have caused him nothing but pain - of course he would feel like nobody understands. Most of his closest friends genuinely don't, nor do they try to.
Because that's what he is at his core - a traumatized fucking child, who doesn't see any way out. Eridan is not a casteist genocidal sea dweller... he just wishes he was one, and tries to be one, because if he actually was one, he wouldn't feel so awful and scared and sad all the time. He'd be normal, like his friends.
The reason he constantly spouts anti-land dweller rhetoric and uses casteist language is to assuage this cognitive dissonance. That's why he has to come off so strong, present himself in such an aggrandized way, act like such a douchebag. They're his emotional support slurs. He doesn't actually believe what he says, which means he's a Bad Sea Dweller, which means he's Failing, which means Something Bad Will Happen, so he'd better get his ass in line and say something casteist!
And it's all made worse because:
Eridan is Dumb of Ass (and True of Word)
Oh my god you guys he's so stupid that it hurts.
Okay, that's not entirely fair. Eridan is clearly well-educated and book smart; he has some of the most elegant prose out of the trolls, and he's prone to going off on insane rants with it. (Actually, his language gets more flowery and showy when he's trying to impress a stranger, and gets progressively more laid back, chill, and even kind of "bro"-y when he starts talking to people he doesn't feel like he needs to impress.)
CA: at this point i find all her adorable black pixie dabblins to be prime kiddie playtime shit CA: all of her FRAUDULENT MAGICS cannot come close to posin threat to my mastery ovver the TRUEST SCIENCES CA: an wwith my empiricists wwand i servve as the righteous hope that wwill incinerate delusion and the deluded alike CA: my holy fire is the wwhite fury bled from the wwrath-wweary eyes of fifty thousand nonfictional angels CA: and wwhen theyre finished wweepin they wwill boww before their prince GG: wow what are you talking about
What I mean is this: his brain is so full of anxiety and cognitive dissonance and murder and death that he struggles to care about other people, which has devastating effects on his social skills. I go really in-depth on how his though process informs his behavior here. The question may have popped up in your mind already: if his casteism stuff isn't actually real, then what is Eridan actually like? The answer is, overwhelmingly, and discomfortingly, SINCERE.
This boy is gunning at 100% emotional earnestness 100% of the time, and it's deeply uncomfortable for others to deal with. He'll swing wildly from insults and derogatory language, to stating a desire to kill all land dwellers, to awe and amazement at his friends' prowess, to demanding that they do things for him, to traumadumping and venting, without missing a beat. Often in the same conversation.
CA: kan its hard GA: What CA: being a kid and growwing up CA: its hard and nobody understands
He's also specifically terrible at parsing hostility. Functionally, he interprets all hostility aimed AT him as either pitch/ashen flirting or "ironic repartee," and similarly views his own hostile words as verbal jousting, pitch/ashen advances, or even just factual descriptions of the world around him (ie calling Nepeta a "kittycat shipper cavve girl"). Hostility and aggression are just kind of his baseline, default state of being, and he basically has no ability to differentiate between good and bad attention. I talk more in-depth about his emotionally bereft upbringing (and shitty lusus) here, but suffice to say that our boy isn't getting any emotional support at home, and as a result, craves attention, no matter what kind.
This also means he's insanely gullible. For example, Rose calls him an idiot to his face, and then blows up his computer, sarcastically calling it "your first lesson in showmanship." Eridan proceeds to literally considers it that, blowing up Jade's computer after he's done talking to her. Furthermore, Kanaya sees him as a burden, insults him to his face, and pretty much just bullies him along with Rose for fun.
So she trains Eridan to become a powerful white wizard of hope to challenge her, as a joke.
And yet, in spite of all that, Eridan still has nothing but gratitude and praise for Kanaya:
ERIDAN: kan i been meanin to thank you KANAYA: For What ERIDAN: for all that trainin you did ERIDAN: i wwouldnt be the incredible holy wwizard i am noww wwithout your help KANAYA: But I Didnt Even Really Train You I Just Made You A Wand ERIDAN: yeah wwell thats all i needed i guess ERIDAN: i just needed for someone to showw a little faith in me so im sayin thanks i owwe ya KANAYA: Okay Then Youre Welcome KANAYA: I Hope You Use Your Magnificent Powers Of Light And Hope For Goodness And Purity And Lets Not Forget Science ERIDAN: dont wworry im all ovver that shit you dont evven knoww KANAYA: Uh Oh I Hope That Didnt Come Off As Too Sarcastic ERIDAN: wwhat KANAYA: The Thing I Just Said KANAYA: I Didnt Even Realize How Sarcastic I Was Being Its Starting To Become A Problem I Think KANAYA: Please Dont Take Too Much Offense ERIDAN: haha damn kan if thats your idea of offense bein made then i honestly gotta fuckin wworry for you ERIDAN: tell you wwhat ill givve you some lessons in dealin out the dark umbrage to repay you for your tutelage in the wwhite science
Like, he's in the middle of genuinely thanking her for believing in him, she makes fun of him to his face, and his response is to laugh it off and offer to teach her how to properly insult someone. It's honestly... kind of sad. Not that he doesn't deserve the ridicule, but what we're seeing here is a traumatized, emotionally neglected boy trying to communicate the best that he can that he loves and appreciates his friends, and receiving nothing but mockery in return.
It's really not a surprise, then, that he goes off the deep end. His entire life prior to the game has been shit; he got broken up with as soon as he entered the game (by someone who didn't even care enough not to use fish puns while doing it); he's ostracized and avoided for the game's duration; and then he spends the rest of his time on the meteor being bullied. He feels deeply hopeless and anxious about their situation because he literally doesn't know how else to exist, and his concerns are dismissed and mocked at every turn. When Feferi turns on him with intent to kill, that's his breaking point.
I see a lot of people say he goes grimdark, or succumbs to external influence somehow, but I don't think that needs to be true (nor is it) - he's just a deeply traumatized kid with almost no support network who's finally been pushed to the edge, despite displaying every possible warning sign and making multiple cries for help. Yes, ultimately, he's guilty for his own actions, but his killing spree - alongside Gamzee's and Vriska's - represents a cohesive failure as a team to address very clear problems in their midst.
So Feferi and Kanaya are sick of his ass. Sollux hates him platonically, Equius doesn't like him, and Nepeta thinks of him as a creep. Vriska is his awkward ex, and Terezi agrees with him when he calls himself pathetic. He never interacts with Tavros, Aradia, or sober!Gamzee. Is there anyone that treats him nicely?
Uh, okay, so I swear this isn't shipping goggles -
Pale EriKar Is Canon And I Can Prove It
So, I'm going to start this with a disclaimer: you can ship what you want to ship. I don't mind. I don't care. Headcanons are valid, death of the author, etc. What you do in your free time is up to you.
What I am attempting to argue in this section is that an Eridan/Karkat moirallegiance was heavily foreshadowed, one of the most heavily foreshadowed things in the entire comic, and - assuming that the original ending of Homestuck included all the dead trolls being brought back and redeemed - was going to be endgame. There's a torrential amount of evidence pointing to this, and very little of it is acknowledged even by the EriKar shippers, which is a shame.
At the very least, I'll be happy if I can convince some Karkat RPers to be extra nice to Eridans, because they are actually just friends who care deeply about each other. Canonically.
The first thing to note is that Eridan and Karkat, at least prior to SGRUB, talk all the time, to the point where Feferi feels the need to comment on it:
CC: You know, I'm not sure w)(y we never talk about our romantic aspirations. CC: We s)(ould more often. It is kind of -EXCITING! CA: shrug CC: Probably because you fill your gossip quota wit)( your nubby )(orned bro. CC: You leave not)(ing left to talk about wit)( your dear sweet moirail! CC: We are supposed to )(elp eac)( ot)(er wit)( t)(at stuff too, remember. CA: maybe CA: seems kinda CA: odd though
("Can you please stop having an emotional affair with Karkat" "Eh, I'll think about it")
The second thing to note is what the contents of those conversations entail. Sure, they "gossip," but it goes deeper than that, because they gossip about things that Karkat would NEVER gossip about with anybody else, because Karkat usually respects his "VERY GOOD FRIEND"s. For example, here Eridan mentions that Karkat has speculated on Kanaya's love life with him:
CA: you dont wwant to be our auspistice cause you dont wwant to get locked into that sort of relation wwith her i can respect that GA: No Thats Not It CA: yeah it is your real feelins run pretty awwful RUDDY methinks evverybody knowws it CA: especially that assblood karkat he and me havve you so pegged about that its upright silly
And it's not even a one-off thing, because here Karkat is again, mentioning Nepeta's crush on him:
KARKAT: OK, BUT TO BE FAIR, I'M PRETTY SURE SHE'S STILL OBSESSED WITH ME. KARKAT: IT'S A VERY UNFORTUNATE, VERY RED AND VERY UNREQUITED SITUATION I'VE BEEN TRYING TO TIPTOE AROUND FOR A LONG TIME, OK? KARKAT: HER DISINTEREST IN YOUR ADVANCE WASN'T A REFLECTION ON YOU AT ALL. KARKAT: COME ON, WE TALKED ABOUT THIS.
It's a situation he's been trying to "tiptoe around for a long time," and he tells ERIDAN, of all people? MULTIPLE TIMES? (AND HE ALSO TELLS ERIDAN THAT THE REJECTION WASN'T HIS FAULT???? WHAT??????)
So we've established that they talk frequently and about some pretty seriously sensitive topics. But did you know that they also talk about... their feelings?
See, the thing is, Karkat has always been weirdly nice to Eridan. Here he is in a memo near the very beginning of their game, when Karkat is at his most "rah rah, I'm the big bad leader":
FCA: i got a problem FCA: wwith feferi FCA: and im really kinda sittin here in bad shape about it emotionally speakin CCG: OK, WELL CCG: I GET THAT, I HEAR YOU BRO CCG: BUT THIS IS STILL NOT THE RIGHT PLACE FOR THIS SO I'VE GOT TO BAN YOU. CCG banned FCA from responding to memo. CCG: BUT SERIOUSLY JUST GET IN TOUCH WITH ME IN PRIVATE ABOUT IT, OK MAN? CCG: WE'LL GET YOUR SHIT STRAIGHTENED OUT.
Compare that to Tavros asking for advice later down in the same memo:
PAT: sINCE i DON'T KNOW WHERE YOU ARE NOW, bUT MAYBE HELP ME, PAT: aBOUT A THING THAT HAS TO DO WITH A GIRL, PAT: lIKE, PAT: a ROMANCE THING, yOU MIGHT KNOW ABOUT, CCG: YOU PEOPLE ARE IMBECILES. CCG: ALL OF YOU. CCG: I AM NOT POSTING THESE MEMOS TO COUNSEL YOU ON YOUR PAST AND FUTURE DATING PROBLEMS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! CCG: WHY ARE YOU ALL SUCH BASKET CASES. I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO SAY ANYMORE. PAT: sORRY, CCG: SHOULD I BAN YOU? WHAT'S EVEN THE POINT ANYMORE! ONE OF YOU STOOGES WILL BE RIGHT ON THE LAST ONES HEELS WITH ANOTHER SOB STORY. CCG: JUST CCG: HURRY UP AND TELL ME WHAT YOUR PROBLEM IS BRO.
He then proceeds to dispense no actual love advice; he just points out that Vriska can totally read this memo too, and then mocks them both when she shows up - thus making it clear that he is giving Eridan special treatment.
You see it again in his discussion with Eridan in [S] Kanaya: Return to the Core, where Eridan invokes a "pact" between them, and Karkat immediately plays nice with him, despite himself being extremely high-strung and stressed out:
KARKAT: RIGHT, IT'S POWERED BY SCIENCE, I FORGOT. KARKAT: OR HOPE. WHATEVER THE FUCK THAT MEANS. ERIDAN: i dont fuckin need this from you i take enough shit as it is from the rest a you dirtscrapers i thought you and me had a kinda pact or wwhatevver KARKAT: OK FINE, SHUT UP, I APOLOGIZE. I KNOW IT'S TOUGH BEING YOU.
That's definitely pity, which Karkat states to be the basis of all relationships besides pitch. But, sure, okay, Karkat is sometimes nice to his friends. He is, after all, the Friendship Troll, so that's not necessarily out of the ordinary. But how about the fact that it goes both ways?
That's right, Eridan "100% aggro 100% of the time" Ampora is actually really considerate toward Karkat's feelings, and basically nobody else's. Upon hearing that Karkat is distressed that Sollux has died, Eridan actively puts his own meltdown about his breakup with Feferi on pause:
TC: BeCaUsE OuR GoOd bRo sOlLuX JuSt kIcKeD ThE WiCkEd mOtHeRfUcKiN ShIt CA: wwhat the fuck do you mean by that CA: are you sayin hes dead TC: YeAh :o( CA: oh fuck CA: oh god fuck noww i feel like an asshole
He then goes on to chastise Gamzee for his shitty advice, demanding to be given the chance to comfort Karkat himself instead:
TC: BuT I ToLd hIm tO Be cHiLl TC: BeCaUsE ThErE Is a mIrAcLe cOmInG, i cAn fEeL It CA: that is the wworst fuckin advvice CA: wwhat an awwful thing a you to say CA: MAGIC ISNT REAL STUPID STOP BELIEVVIN IN IT TC: i'Ve gOt tO BeLiEvE At wHaT My hEaRt tElLs iN Me, EvEn iF It's a fAkE ThInG TC: HoNk CA: this is a lot a pointless fuckin rubbish and isnt no emotional help to him or me either for that matter CA: put kar on
Before finally giving up when Gamzee insists he's "too scared of Jack" to help, drinking some Faygo, and trying to ask past Karkat for help, because past Karkat isn't sad yet about Sollux dying. So, to recap,
Eridan's first instinct when in emotional duress is to go to Karkat.
Eridan feels like he knows Karkat well enough to know that Gamzee's advice would be useless (and is proven right by the fact that Gamzee and Karkat's moirallegiance fails for similar reasons).
Eridan is willing to shelve his own emotional meltdown for Karkat's sake.
Eridan demands to be the one to provide Karkat with emotional support.
And this is, again, not a one-off thing. In the memo Karkat opens right after Eridan and Gamzee have both turned murderous, after he's spent several minutes making death threats toward Eridan and insulting him directly, he goes:
CCG: I'M SO UPSET, I'M JUST COMPLETELY FREAKING OUT IN EVERY WAY POSSIBLE. PCA: yeah i knoww wwhat its like you wwanna talk about it
Eridan spends this entire memo under the belief that it's a completely run-of-the-mill conversation they're having:
PCA: i mean yeah obvviously i kneww you wwerent serious PCA: i guess i appreciate the effort youre puttin into cheerin me up PCA: i can alwways count on you for some good ironic repartee kar nobody else really gets our sense a humor CCG: UGH, NO PCA: are you busy PCA: you said youd try to make it to lowwaa soon wwell howw about it
Which implies that offering to listen to Karkat's feelings is also a completely regular thing for them.
But something magical is ALSO happening within this last memo, and to really explain it, I'll first have to be a little mean to the GamKar shippers (sorry).
So, canonically, GamKar doesn't work out for them, despite also being somewhat foreshadowed. In fact, they feature on Nepeta's shipping wall, which is actually, in my opinion, foreshadowing that it WOULDN'T work out. (Nepeta's ships being wrong, and shipping being something she needs to learn to outgrow, is a whole essay on its own, that I'm not getting into here.)
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But the thing is, the seeds for them not working out were also planted in the first - and only - real post-moirallegiance interaction that they have with each other, where Gamzee tries to calm Karkat down... and FAILS:
GAMZEE: naw brother, i was just about to all say for you to try and get your settle down on, maybe. GAMZEE: :o( ... KARKAT: OK KARKAT: OK YEAH KARKAT: I GUESS YOU'RE RIGHT. KARKAT: NO, YOU'RE RIGHT, I SHOULD RELAX. KARKAT: AND BREATHE. KARKAT: I MEAN, WHAT ARE MOIRAILS FOR, RIGHT? KARKAT: THIS IS HOW IT WORKS, I STOP YOU FROM KILLING EVERYBODY, THEN YOU RETURN THE FAVOR AND CALM ME DOWN AND I JUST KARKAT: BREATHE KARKAT: LIKE KARKAT: THIS... KARKAT: SNIIIIIIIIIIIIFFFFFFFFFFFFFUCK, THAT SUN IS BRIGHT. KARKAT: CALL ME CRAZY, BUT IT'S KIND OF HARD TO RELAX WITHIN A STONE'S THROW FROM, OH, I GUESS ONLY THE BIGGEST FUCKING STAR ANY MORTAL HAS EVER LAID EYES ON. ... KARKAT: BUT I MEAN, CAN THIS BE HEALTHY? KARKAT: AREN'T WE GOING TO GET BURNED OR HAVE OUR RETINAS SCORCHED BY LOOKING AT IT? KARKAT: OH GOD I THINK I'M HAVING A PANIC ATTACK.
But let's go back to that memo where Karkat is freaking out in every way possible. This is how he starts that memo - so upset about the deaths of his friends and terrified by Gamzee that he can barely string together a coherent thought:
CCG: WE ARE SO SCREWED. CCG: OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK. CCG: GUYS, I AM TERRIFIED, I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO. CCG: I'M IN A ROOM FULL OF BODIES, AND I THINK I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO TURN MY BACK ON THEM? CCG: OH MY GOD, I JUST HEARD A HONK. ... CCG: FEFERI, I'M SORRY. CCG: IT WAS MY FAULT, I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO. PCC: Sorry for w)(at?? CCG: FOR CCG: I CCG: I CAN'T DO THIS CCG: IT'S TOO MUCH FOR ME, I'M SORRY.
In fact, he's so distressed that he bans Past!Feferi and Past!Gamzee almost immediately after they come in. But then Eridan comes in, and... I mean, first of all, just compare how long it takes for him to ban Eridan:
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But more interesting are the contents of their conversation. Over the course of talking to Eridan... Karkat completely calms the fuck down. Like he's entirely forgotten that he's shitting his pants with fear. In fact, he even starts critiquing Eridan for his dumbassery:
PCA: evven if i wwasnt compelled to think you wwere still bein flippant and ironic wwith me you cant exactly outright reject me can you CCG: WHY NOT PCA: cause youre future you PCA: doesnt count unless its present you til then its all fair game CCG: IS THIS REAL, ARE YOU BEING IRONIC OR SOMETHING, I CAN'T EVEN TELL ANYMORE CCG: THE PROBLEM IS, I CAN'T PUT THIS SORT OF BEHAVIOR PAST YOU AT ALL, SO I DON'T KNOW. ... CCG: YOU'RE KILLING ANGELS NOW, AREN'T YOU PCA: no CCG: YOU ARE KILLING FUCKING ANGELS, RIGHT NOW, IN THE PAST, WITH YOUR SHITTY GUN. I JUST KNOW IT. PCA: wwell uh PCA: therere just so damn many kar and theyre not gettin any less bloody pissed is the thing CCG: THIS IS WHY IT WOULD NEVER WORK BETWEEN US, MAN.
It's extremely funny. Over the course of talking to Eridan, he goes from:
CCG: OH GOD OH GOD OH MAN OH GOD CCG: NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO
To:
CCG banned PCA from responding to memo. CCG: ANYWAY CCG: THAT'S IT I GUESS.
Eridan isn't even trying to calm Karkat down. He still succeeds in doing so. This is because they are soul mates. And I mean that in the sense that the comic literally calls being moirails soul mates, which it doesn't do for the other quadrants:
A reasonable human translation would be the concept of a soul mate, but in a more platonic sense, and with a more specific social purpose.
That "social purpose" being that an even-tempered troll calms down a more hot-tempered one, and vice versa.
It also goes on to note:
But some pale pairings, as the one above [referring to a picture of Nepeta and Equius], will be strikingly obvious to all who know them.
But what's really interesting is the next page.
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And yet others will seem to have been hatched for each other.
Did you catch that? Let me zoom in.
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(Also, the blue and red cuttlefish to represent Sollux - Feferi and Sollux spend the whole game together, and even wind up talking about their feelings constantly in a pile - more on piles in a sec.)
In fact... in Eridan's first visual appearance...
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The crab has always been there for him.
It's also important to talk about the bottle of Faygo that's been photoshopped to be candy red, Karkat's blood color. The path that it takes actually directly mirrors Karkat's relationships with Gamzee and Eridan - it's initially something that Gamzee has, but winds up being ejected out of his life, and washes up on Eridan's shore. In fact:
TC: SnAtCh aN IcEcOlD, dOg TC: MoThErFuCkIn cHuG ThAt sHiT LiKe yOu aNd tHe bOtTlE WaS ReUnItEd lOvErS CA: are you recommendin a bevverage to me or somethin CA: is that wwhat this is TC: YeAh mAn SlAm A FaYgO CA: i dont havve a fuckin faygo you stupid fuck wwhy wwould i keep that disgusting shit on hand TC: ArE YoU MoThErFuCkIn sUrE AbOuT ThAt? CA: oh CA: oh god youre right i do CA: i totally forgot about it TC: YoU SeE MaN TC: MoThEr TC: FuCkIn TC: MiRaClEs TC: :o)
When Gamzee and Eridan discuss this exact bottle, Gamzee even likens it to "reunited lovers"; it's something that Eridan has had this whole time (after all, he was cheating on Feferi with the guy), but never realized.
There are a few miscellaneous things that don't really mean anything on their own, but put next to all this other stuff, is worth considering, so I'll list those now.
First, they both do the bonk:
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Second:
CG: ARE WE NOT FRIENDS ANYMORE BECAUSE OF STUFF I SAID. TA: eheheheh you LIITERALLY a2k me that every tiime are you jokiing. TA: ii cant even tell anymore. CG: IT'S A JOKE MORON. CG: HONESTLY I'M JUST GLAD NOBODY ELSE IS PRIVVY TO OUR CONVERSATIONS.
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Third, Karkat muses to his future self about how he misses his friends, especially the assholes, two pages before staring at a dead Eridan's ass (joking, he's definitely looking at WV, but it's still significant that this thought is being associated with Eridan):
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CCG: I MEAN, DON'T GET ME WRONG. CCG: I MISS ALL OF MY DEAD FRIENDS A LOT. CCG: EVEN THE ASSHOLES! I MISS THEM TOO. MAYBE EVEN ESPECIALLY THEM, IN SOME PERVERSE WAY. CCG: AND I SHOULD BE RELIEVED THAT THEY ALL SEEM TO BE HAPPY IN SOME WAY, EVEN IF IT'S BY FLOATING NEBULOUSLY THROUGH DREAM PROJECTIONS WITH THEIR FREAKY BLANK EYES. CCG: AND I GUESS I AM RELIEVED ABOUT THAT. CCG: BUT AT THE SAME TIME IT'S LEFT ME UNSETTLED.
Fourth, in the same conversation, he bemoans his failed relationship with Terezi, before Future!Karkat chastises Past!Karkat for his instability and mixed signals. Going back to the page on moirallegiances, an explicit function of a proper pale relationship is stabilizing a troll's other relationships:
The two partners in a strong pale relationship will serve to balance and complement each other's emotional profiles, and thus allow their other relationships to be more successful.
Of course, I don't need to tell you how messy and unstable Eridan's relationships have been.
And finally, Piles of Stuff™ are associated with moirails, and directly stated in-comic to cause an outpouring of emotion:
Standing near this pile stirs powerful emotions. The closer you stand to piles of stuff, the more freely the feelings flow. It is a law of reality.
So here's a seven-word tragedy for you: For Sale, Shitty Wand Pile, Never Used:
ERIDAN: at least i got the upright basic decency to hide my shitty wand pile somewwhere in the lab you wwont find it dont evven bother lookin KARKAT: WHY DO YOU ASSHOLES HAVE PILES OF THINGS, JUST STOP.
(Which he specifically tells Karkat about.)
So, yeah, what I'm saying is, there's just, like, a weirdly large amount to read into here. That Karkat and Eridan are probably soulmates or whatever. And that this is important because...
Eridan Is Plot Relevant (Well All The Dead Trolls Are But This Is An Essay About Eridan)
So. Now we are going to talk about themes. Yes, like we are in schoolfeeding again. I'm going to keep it simple, because "The Themes of Homestuck" is a whole essay on its own, and this one about just the shitty fish boy is already way too long.
I think it's fairly non-controversial to posit that the main theme of Homestuck is, "children should mature, care about each other, and throw off the shackles of their old society, because they will be responsible for a new world one day."
Up until Game Over/the Retcon, this is so prevalent and well-established that SBURB/SGRUB's coming-of-age themes will outright be commented upon by the characters, and the main villain is a child who deliberately stunted his own growth so he could go around kicking over other peoples' toys forevermore.
So, the thing is, with that being the theme of Homestuck, if ALL of the Alternian trolls don't survive to the end, the ending is thematically unsatisfying, because the message suddenly gains an addendum of "well, some kids just need to die," which totally sucks. Like, sure, Eridan was a violent, crazed murderer even at the best of times, but his permanent death within the canon ending kind of means that the comic is saying that people in his position don't deserve kindness or second chances. That position being a traumatized, emotionally neglected child, who was being bullied by people he considered his friends. It's a pretty terrible message.
It's even worse when you consider what other trolls don't make it to the end - Nepeta, the most outspoken troll against the hemospectrum (and Davepeta does NOT count, don't try to tell me the final culmination of Nepeta's character arc is being combined with some guy she barely knows and a bird). Feferi, who genuinely wanted the best for others, even if she was kind of a privileged princess. Aradia and Sollux also stay behind in the bubbles, even though their lives have pretty much been endless parades of suffering and being used by other people. Even Equius doesn't deserve it - he was kind of a casteist freak, but not irredeemably so, and the fact that he became kinder to Karkat over the course of SGRUB proved that he had the capacity to change. And Tavros, allergic to himself and being insulted by Vriska, is a terrible way to end his arc.
It's also really clear that, since half his friends are dead, Karkat just doesn't really have anything to do. His title is the Knight of Blood, and Blood is about bonds - romance, friendship. And yet, he ends the comic having never figured out what Blood was about, with no confirmed filled quadrants (sorry DaveKat likers, but within the comic itself, DaveKat is never confirmed), and most of his bonds nothing more than ghosts in the bubbles. It's a terribly unsatisfying ending for the most narratively important troll.
I think, then, that even if you don't agree that Homestuck should have ended with full revivals and redemption arcs for all the trolls, the essay is going to proceed on like you do, so, sorry, I guess.
The thing with Eridan, specifically, is that he's actually tied deeply into the plot and themes, and his return means more than just Karkat finally getting a date (although that's important, too). Eridan is directly intertwined with a prophecy to kill Lord English; he's set up to mirror Caliborn and Calliope; and thematically, his redemption would be the most clear instance of the "interrogating society" part of the theme of Homestuck, because Eridan is kind of the Society Troll. And also, he was definitely supposed to be Roxy's wizard boyfriend.
Just gonna get that last one out of the way real quick because it's a fast one, Roxy fucking loves wizards and is a hipster. Eridan is a wizard and is also a hipster. Roxy has a crush on a prince. Eridan is also a prince. Roxy wears a purple striped scarf. Eridan wears a blue striped scarf. Roxy uses rifles. Eridan uses rifles. Momlonde's introduction includes a passive-aggressive fridge battle that features a cameo of Eridan's quirk.
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Using the colorful MAGNET LETTERS, you recently left a succinct message, which may or may not have been directed toward anyone in particular. But you couldn't find the letter W, so you just stuck two V's together. Your mother then purchased a fresh pack of W's and left them there for your convenience.
Yeah. So. Uh. Not only did Eridan need to be brought back to date Karkat pale, but he also needed to be brought back to date Roxy flushed. Can you imagine how funny it would be. They'd get together within 5 minutes of meeting for the first time and Rose would lose her shit. Anyway.
Him being a parallel to Calliope and Caliborn is also a quick one - Caliborn uses Riflekind/Sceptrekind, and Calliope uses Pistolkind/Wandkind. Eridan's two weapons are rifles and wands. Lord English is described as an evil wizard and at one point is shown using Calliope's wand. Eridan is also an evil wizard who uses a wand.
Look, I'm not saying that Eridan is necessarily directly related to these two, nor am I even necessarily saying that he and Roxy HAVE to date, but I am saying that he's got Weird Plot Connections that make him bizarrely relevant to characters that only come into play well after his death - almost like the comic was setting up that he would be coming back. His reaction to Cronus supports this, which I go into detail about here.
There's other strange "Eridan's plot important" things, too - like the fact that he's completely unimpressed by Faygo, considering it to be "just soda," and seems to be the only non-cultist who's okay with it. Or the fact that he's actually been awake on Derse since before the game (but unable to hear the horrorterrors, maybe foreshadowing some psychic resistance?) which he casually reveals to Kanaya and which Terezi is aware of, hence he's included in the people she names are "in" on the existence of the game. Or the fact that the genetic code for Alternia's first guardian was written within the pages of four FLARP books, with the addition of a fifth code Gamzee wrote in Karkat's ~ATH book... but Eridan was the fifth FLARP player in the team, implying that Doc Scratch/LE influencing Gamzee caused him to usurp Eridan's part of the first guardian code, giving LE his way into the trolls' universe.
Individually, it's all kind of nothing, but it just paints a bigger picture of Eridan being weirdly relevant, especially when we get to the juicy stuff:
The Prophecy
ARANEA: The 8ard of Hope may seem a little jaded these days, 8ut he once had a deeply a8iding faith in magic, and dedicated himself to 8ecoming a great wizard. He 8ecame convinced he was hatched to defeat an extraordinarily evil magician, one he swore the angels foretold of. ... [T]his magician once somehow from afar tried to strike him down at a young age, so he would never have to face him. 8ut the evil spell was deflected, sealing the magician's spirit away in a series of unassuming vessels until he could find some other cunning way to enter our universe. ... ARANEA: 8ut at some point he 8ecame disillusioned with magic. If there ever was any truth to his far fetched vision, the legacy of defeating the evil magician would have to 8e passed on to his descendant, or if his descendant proved to 8e as much of a failure as he did, then perhaps on to some other Hero of Hope.
ERIDAN: i slaughtered enough angels to knoww my limits and wwhere i stand against the lord of all angels they prophecized
GG: im pretty sure hes from the future! CA: wwhy GG: because he said hes my grandson CA: wwhat the fuck is a grandson CA: is that some kind of pervverse human familial thing GG: umm yes ... CA: that gun i just gavve you is somethin of a hatchright to the kid CA: happy i could play a role in your dirty stinkin lineage GG: like an heirloom? i guess it could be ... CA: i kinda think thats wwhy i found the gun in the first place CA: but noww im forsakin it because fuck i just found a better destiny than my old crappy one wwhich i nevver got any appreciation for anywway
Jake is supposed to have been the one to defeat Lord English. (No, Jake defeating pre-LE Caliborn right before he gets sealed into Cal doesn't count! He doesn't even get the final blow in that fight, DIRK does.)
But Eridan at one point had that destiny on his shoulders. Aranea turbohealing Jake, and the resultant hope field, summons a bunch of angels, which are heavily associated with Eridan - yet another random connection that Eridan has with future plot events.
Jake was another character, alongside Karkat, who was kind of reduced to a joke by the end, despite the fact that he had literally, directly, been passed the destiny of defeating Lord English. It's hard not to see this as a consequence, at least in part, of removing Eridan from the story. By cutting him out of the fabric of the ending, several plot threads - including this prophecy - are left dangling in irrelevance. And so Jake, like Karkat, now has nothing to do.
Homestuck is generally a series where every prophecy does come true, which makes it kind of startling when several prophecies fail to - Feferi's to "unite the two races," Jake's to defeat Lord English, and Karkat's to bring "compassion, forgiveness, and equality among all bloodlines" in the Signless's place.
That last one is actually relevant to:
The Thematic Importance of EriKar As Soul Mates
Eridan represents the worst aspects of Alternian society. He's a sea dweller at the top of the caste structure, with free reign to murder whoever he wants, soaked in the blood of thousands of innocent trolls. He espouses the casteist rhetoric that their society is built on, calling for the deaths of all land dwellers and the oppression of the lower castes. And while he should be benefitting from his position of privilege, it has also done nothing but hurt him.
Karkat, meanwhile, is a pariah. A mutant who would've been culled on sight, who spent his entire life living in hiding, and most of the game in fear that he would be ostracized or worse by the rest of his friends if they found out about his blood color. He's also the second coming of Troll Jesus, and thus, more despised by the Alternian ruling class than a mutant normally would be. For most of his life, he dreamed of nothing more than finding belonging within the society that had deemed him unfit.
Their friendship is something that "should not be." The highblood and the mutant. The royal-v and the off-spectrum. The empress's sea dweller and the second coming of the signless. Eridan "should" see Karkat as a miscreant to cull on sight. Karkat "should" be terrified of Eridan's very existence.
But in reality, Eridan doesn't give a shit about blood color, and Karkat just wants to be accepted. Eridan just wants someone to care about him, and Karkat loves his friends. Aside from Feferi, Eridan is the only highblood who never comments about Karkat's mutant blood, and they were best buddies even before Eridan knew.
Eridan and Karkat getting together isn't JUST the two most undateable trolls on the team finally landing a stable quadrant. These two, moreso than any other pairing, represent the themes of Homestuck. Children growing up, caring about each other, and throwing off the shackles of their old society.
In the pre-retcon timeline, their team failed to do so. This led to Gamzee falling into his highblood clown cult, Equius letting himself and Nepeta die by submitting to his place in the hemospectrum, Vriska killing Tavros because she couldn't allow herself to show weakness, and Eridan completing his caste's dream of genocide. Karkat spent the entire meteor trip and beyond beating himself up about it, since he considered it all to be his fault.
But with the introduction of John's retcon powers, they have the chance to, one by one, redeem themselves. I believe that's how the original ending would have gone: Terezi would ask John to bring Vriska back, because she only feels comfortable fixing her own mistakes. Vriska would then have asked John to bring back Tavros, whom she regretted killing. Tavros would be there for Gamzee, rendering him an ally. Gamzee would ask John to bring back Equius and Nepeta. Equius would ask John to help him not make the same mistakes with Aradia, and Aradiabot would catch John by the wrist and demand he bring her back in time to before she died, allowing her to circumvent her own death and Sollux's guilt. Sollux would ask John to keep him from provoking Eridan, saving Feferi. And Feferi would be pretty ok with the way things were... but KARKAT would then pull John aside, and drop an entire book of mistakes he made on John's lap, and this would result in a finalized timeline where all his friends are alive and god-tiered.
Because all the trolls SHOULD have survived.
Vriska should've survived because people should be allowed to have second chances.
Tavros should've survived because caring about each other, and being willing to show kindness and mercy, are good things.
Gamzee should have survived because people mired in religious fundamentalism and cults deserve to be offered a helping hand.
Equius should've survived because people should be allowed to grow and change their beliefs.
Nepeta should've survived because she was the anti-casteism troll. Casteism is bad, folks! Not only that, but I'm convinced that she was originally going to give the Ultimate Self exposition, and Davepetasprite^2 had to be contrived in the canon ending in order to shortcut Nepeta's character development, ruining it in the process.
Aradia should've been allowed to stay with the rest of the team and live a life free of the control of evil uncles and shitty ancestors.
Sollux should've been allowed to stay with the rest of the team because we all deserve to heal and be happy.
Feferi should've survived so she could be in a kismesistude with Nepeta, and realize that casteism itself is bad, not just the definition of culling, and then used her Witch of Life powers to even out the lifespans between the next generation of trolls, which needs to happen or else casteism will just happen again as long-lived highbloods inevitably amass power. And, also, it would complete the prophecy Gl'bgolyb gave her that she was intended to unite the two races (dream bubbles don't count, because by that metric, Sollux did more than she did by establishing a connection between the trolls and humans).
And Eridan should've survived, because the harm society has done to us can be undone. We don't have to submit to the roles it imposes, to the laws it wrote, to the abuse it inflicted. We can be free.
I've seen a lot of people who believe that such-and-such character did SUCH awful things that they don't deserve a happy ending. Oftentimes, it's Eridan, but nearly all of the dead trolls have gotten this treatment. So, let me just ask all of you who have gotten this far and still hold that opinion one thing. Do you think that's what Troll Jesus would have wanted?
This is why pale EriKar is so important: for it to happen, Eridan has to make a choice between upholding the beliefs of his shitty society, or pursuing a happier, kinder future, one where he outright rejects the caste system. For it to happen, Karkat has to shake all his insecurities about not being good enough by Alternian standards, and take on the duty of creating something better than what he came from. If pale EriKar happens, it means Eridan and Karkat choose love, not fear. Compassion, forgiveness, and equality.
This choice - this pairing - is the ultimate representation of giving Alternian society one big middle finger. Saying, we don't need you anymore, fuck off! Saying, we reject you at your core; we will choose something better! Saying, we will create a new world, and it will be kinder than the one we came from!
Pale EriKar means LOVE WINS.
Thank you for reading.
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artemis-valkyrie · 1 year
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sm-baby · 3 months
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Dissection/Theory Analysis of Able:
So we all know about how Caine constantly feels undermined by his little brother's overachieving, but how does Able feel about it? I think the things that he does aren't ill-intended - he's instead trying to keep up with the great achievements of his older brother(how Caine knows multiple languages and has many accolades) and in his admiration of his brother's feats incidentally surpasses them from all the effort he puts into each act. Each pursuit he bests Caine in is just an attempt to better understand his brother by becoming a master in the things Caine likes.
Able is inherently people-pleasing, and that initial urge to perform exceptionally and be praised for it(starting with Caine and their parents) has expanded so much that the need to be the "good brother" is something that has fully taken over his identity - causing his gentleman act and his superior skill in everything Caine does. It is no longer just having the right cards to play at the right time to impress others, he must always be on top and visibly be doing so(aka why his face is the four aces in a suit of cards).
But, he's become so blinded by the need to excel in everything he does that he's gone into complete tunnel vision with his "perfect" facade and feels that his brother is the closest thing he has to a real connection with someone without having to be "the best". And even then, with his own brother, he's not comfortable enough to completely let his guard down and be a person without focusing on pleasing everyone around him
This is a long ask sorry haha
I love my man Able and I have so many theories about how he's handling all the pressure(I'm down bad for him AND want to psychoanalyze him since you gave us such juicy material in the Freakshow fic(which I'd guess is at least partially true to the direction you're heading with him in the carnival and normal aus)). He's my poor little meow meow(even tho he seems mostly fine in all the art we've seen of him) :)
Freakshow Au by: @hootbon
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This made me so incredibly happy i couldn't help but doodle him over and over,,
I love psycho-analysis of my characters,, gonna read this over and over.. man you put my ideas for him into WORDS and that's the coolest thing ever.. i never thought Able would be described as "people pleasing" but MAN.. YOU ARE ABSOLUTLY CORRECT... GOD DAM...
Also aboslutely estatic that you took his psycho-analysis from the chosen one fic.. yesss.. i am very happy with Able and Caine's relationship and I'm especially happy with freakshow able's writing in both the fic and just in general. thank you for this,, made my night!
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hisui-dreamer · 2 months
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omg omg !! HAPPY 2K RINNA <3 i’m so so proud of u and u deserve everything 💗 the event looks so fun hehe YOU ALRKEUADY JNIW WHI IN GONNANS ASK FOR
i really really love tulips so could i ask for lilia and tulips please? its meaning is perfect and deep love hehe CHEWS YOUR WALLS
good luck with your assignments and take all the time you need !! i love you and miss you mwahh
a crown befitting of you
Pairing: Lilia Vanrouge x gn!reader
Synopsis: his feelings had grown so subtly, so steadily, that he had not realised at all
Tags: fluff, developing relationship, reader eats lilia's food omg
Word count: 783
Notes: mil mil my favourite person ever!!💕💕💕 thank you so much ill work hard on my assignments 🫡 i hope you enjoy lilia hehehe >∪<
Masterlist
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flower of choice: tulip
tulips are commonly asosciated with perfect and deep love.
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Looking back, Lilia vividly remembers the day you arrived in Twisted Wonderland. Amidst the grand spectacle of the entrance ceremony, particularly with Grim's frantic attempts to avoid being captured, there was something about you that captured his attention. Maybe it was the distinct curiosity shining in your eyes, navigating through an entirely foreign world with a blend of composure and uncertainty. Whatever it was, he found himself wanting to reach out and make you feel welcome.
He started looking out for you without even realizing it. He began with small gestures, like offering help with your studies when he found you hunched over a book in the library or popping down from the ceiling to help you find a classroom. He enjoyed seeing your smile brighten whenever you grasped a new concept or conquered a challenge. It felt good to be there for you, to share his experiences and insights.
As time went on, your interactions blossomed into a regular occurrence. Hours seemed to melt away as you engaged in conversations about anything and everything, exchanging stories of your homeland and experiences while he eagerly recounted his adventures from various countries. Among the students, you were the only one to actively praise his cooking, willingly joining him in the kitchen. These shared moments became cherished moments for Lilia, feeling a connection forming between you that he couldn't quite explain.
But it wasn't until much later that he realized the true depth of his feelings. They had silently amassed over time, creeping up on him when he least expected it. Suddenly, he found myself thinking about you all the time, wondering how you were and yearning to see your smile once more.
Just as his thoughts drifted to you, a familiar laughter dances through the air, drawing his attention. Turning towards its source, he finds himself captivated by the scene unfolding before him. The sun bathes the school courtyard in a radiant golden hue, casting a warm, inviting glow upon everything it touches. There you are, seated on the grass with legs crossed, skillfully weaving delicate tulip flowers into a crown.
Curiosity piqued, he approaches quietly, not wanting to interrupt your moment of concentration. As he draws nearer, you glance up, your eyes shimmering with delight and a mischievous grin playing upon your lips.
"Lilia!" you exclaim, a hint of surprise colouring your tone. "What perfect timing! I've made something for you."
With a graceful flourish, you hold up the tulip flower crown, presenting it as if it were a priceless gem. Each vibrant petal seems to shimmer and sway in the sunlight, casting a spell of enchantment over the surroundings. The delicate blooms, ranging in hues from deep crimson to soft pastel pink, are meticulously arranged in a circular formation, creating a majestic crown fit for royalty.
"You made this for me?" he asks, a wry grin on his face. He can't help but think it suits you far better.
"Of course!" You reply, your grin widening. "Don’t you think it’ll enhance your cuteness?"
A huff of laughter escapes him as you delicately place the crown upon his head, adjusting it until it sits just right. He can't help but feel a rush of affection towards you, grateful for your kindness and the undeniable warmth you bring into his life.
As you step back to admire your handiwork, your gaze meets his, and time seems to stand still. He finds himself entranced by the sparkle in your eyes, the way your smile reaches all the way to your soul.
It is then, with the sun kissing your skin and the scent of tulips filling the air, that he realises just how deeply he cares for you. In your laughter, in your playful gestures, he found a love he hadn't known existed, a love that filled him with a warmth unlike anything he'd ever felt before. And as he looks into your eyes, his own heart overflowing with emotion, he knows that he has fallen completely, utterly in love.
"Rather than me," he begins, lifting the flower crown from his head and gently placing it upon yours. "I believe it enhances your cuteness far more effectively."
He watches with rapt attention as a delicate flush blossoms across your cheeks, like the soft petals of a rose responding to the morning sun. The warmth of embarrassment paints your features with a gentle hue, adding a touch of ethereal beauty to your already captivating presence. In that moment, your eyes widen slightly, reflecting a mixture of surprise and affection, like sparkling jewels illuminated by a ray of sunlight.
Truly, the deepest of loves.
Masterlist
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if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!
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whitecreekvalley-if · 5 months
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[ Demo TBA ] • Character descriptions • Pinterest •
Genres: Slice of life, drama, mystery, romance
WCV is rated 18+ for explicit language, violence, alcohol and drug use, and explicit sexual content.
Life's taken a nosedive—no apartment, no job, no friends. Desperation pushes you to cling to a chance from a kindly stranger offering a ticket to a town hidden beyond mountains and plains, a place people don't seek but always seem to need.
Welcome to Whitecreek Valley, where the Brass Pine Ranch needs your unique skills to mend a crumbling homestead, and a crumbling family. As you tackle the decay of the ranch and the town alongside the rancher's son, deeper troubles emerge—livestock falling ill sparks fears of a town on the brink of extinction. Can you navigate this community, help them rejuvenate, or will it become another link in the list of ghost towns of America's Wikipedia page?
FEATURES
Customization: Appearance, personality, gender & sexuality, what job they had before, their hobbies, etc. Choose how they feel about being a farmhand, how they're adjusting to the rural life, and - with your choices - how the town as a whole sees them. Are they part of the community or an perpetual outsider?
Skills: Depending on your previous job, you'll have a unique set of skills to help the community. Choose to learn new skills, like woodworking, bronc riding, or sheep shearing, to mention a few.
Animal husbandry: The distances around Whitecreek Valley are hefty, so it's necessary to have at least a horse to get around. Choose your favorite out of a cast of individual equines, each with their own personalities. Also, help a calf into this world and realize how fun it is to raise a baby cow! As long as you're in good standing with the rest of the herd, of course.
Rebuilding: Try your best to rebuild the Brass Pine ranch, and the town adjacent. The better job you manage, the more opportunities (and challenges) come your way.
Community outreach: A dying town is still home, and there are stories to be heard, problems to solve. Lend a helping hand to your new community and see how one kindness can pay itself back.
Romance: Not everyone in town is adverse to strangers, and if your heart yearns romance, there is a chance for a spark along the way. Just be careful as to who you're trying to woo in front of whom. Small town gossips, we've all seen it.
Mystery: There's something hanging over the valley, like a rot in the air. Why are people moving out? Why are exports not moving out? And who's behind the animals getting sick? Don you detective hat and lend a hand to the entire four local police officers working the bizarre case.
THE LOCALS (RO'S)
THE RANCHER'S SON
Mason "Mace" Gannon - 27 - he/him
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He used to be so much fun. I miss hanging out with him, out by the bonfires. He'd always make everyone feel so included and happy, and oh, that homemade cider he'd bring? Warmed us up on those chilly late fall nights, when we had nothing else to do. Did I tell you about the time he got us all to go skinny dipping? He was such a charmer, I wonder --
Imagine Mace as your human golden retriever – the guy who's a blast to be around, a bit mischievous, and the first to rush to your aid whenever you need it. After being gone for five years to live his rodeo dreams, he's back, now the sole caretaker of the family ranch in his hometown. He goes to great lengths to keep his personal issues personal, and it's the butt of many jokes how he's always there to help others but has the worst time asking for help himself.
He's you boss, and probably one of the best you'll ever get. Just don't pay mind to the spats between him and his dad.
THE BARTENDER
Alice Marks - 25 - she/her
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Alice, she's a feisty one! Like her poppa, rest his soul. How I love the drinks she comes up with at the bar, and that horse of hers! She could go into rodeo, but I don't think after what happened with her pa... Oh, but she's a wonder! Always there with a quip, how they drive her suitors mad. Good thing she stopped with the talk about moving away, the town would be so dull without her!
Alice is the town's most known inhabitant, running the show from the only bar in town, which she just happens to own. Her mind is like a machine for fun, and she's the brain behind all the pop-up events and happenings around town. Sure, she can be a bit like a hurricane of enthusiasm, but hey, that's Alice for you. If the town had a social heartbeat, it'd be Alice – the vibrant, smartass soul making everyday life feel like a blessing.
THE DEPUTY
Word of the wise: Never challenge Alice to a drinking game. You will lose, spectacularly, and it'll all be on film.
Judge Gannon - 34 - he/him
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Judge is a bit strange, don't you think? He just vanished as soon as he turned eighteen and popped back out of nowhere! That must've been, let's see... Five years ago? He doesn't spend much time with us commoners though, but I think I've seen him at the bar once or twice. I don't actually think he knows how to make nice with people, he always has that glower on. Gets it from his dad, let me tell you --
Bold and straight to the point, Judge isn't out here trying to be intimidating – it just kinda happens. If his brother is a golden retriever, he's definitely the doberman of the family. He's got this brash, no-nonsense vibe that some folks mistake for arrogance, especially when they try laying on the charm and he's not having it. He steers clear of small talk unless it involves his job, and when duty calls, he's more than ready to throw down to protect his town and county.
There's this local urban legend that he cracked a smile once, but it's like spotting a unicorn – not everyone's buying it.
THE LAWYER
Mercedes "Sadie" Diáz - 32 - she/her
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The new girl, yes! Oh, a beauty! And so curious. I do love sitting down with her though, oh the stories she brings from the big city, so intriguing! I hear she finds our town intriguing too, the mayor once - don't tell anyone I told you this - the mayor once said he caught her breaking into the city hall archives! I know, scandalous, but good on her, maybe now someone will argue that my neighbors fence post --
Sadie, the big-shot lawyer from the city, doing her solo act in town. When she's not in court, folks are lining up just to get a piece of the urban tales she's got. A trailblazer and truth-seeker, she's got this knack for poking her nose where it probably shouldn't be, and surprise, she knows more local secrets than the town gossip. Sure, she's all passionate and calculated, a bit out of sync with the town's warmth, but hey, that logical mind of hers might just shake things up and get the town back on track.
It's a well known fact that she could get access to places with the right documents, but she herself has said it's more fun to pick locks. Go figure.
LIST OF MAJOR NPCs
LIST OF MINOR NPCs
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kandlewick · 7 months
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i'll dry the villain's tears pt.1
you get reincarnated into a role that became the breaking point of the villain's story and you, be it an unwillingness to cause them harm or a desire to survive, must work hard to make sure they grow into a better (or at least safer) person.
all entries are meant to be read as platonic. All are meant to be taken place in the TWST universe accurate to the game.
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When you awaken one morning, you find yourself nursing the worst headache of your life. Your eyes refuse to open as you hear a door open and the sound of shuffling footsteps. You quietly will whoever entered your room to leave but you can't even bring yourself to speak a single word and instead, only a huff of breath escapes your lips.
You can almost feel tears build up in your eyes as you feel a blissfully cold towel be pressed against your forehead and the small fingers that accompany it. Though they shake from nerves, they know what they're doing despite how young they obviously appear to be. With what is last of your strength, you force your eyes to open and quietly watch as the young boy in front of you lowers his hands until they reach his chest, his head tucked far between his shoulders, almost as if he was frightened of you waking up.
"I'm sorry," He whispered, gray eyes nervously swaying, "I thought that - you - you were burning up and the doctor said... I know it's not perfect, but I got worried and..."
His little body hid his shakes well but his voice betrayed him. He wanted to make sure you were ok but he was worried his attempts weren't good enough. For your sake or his own, you weren't entirely sure.
"Thank you..."
He almost didn't hear your soft whisper but when he did, he seemed to bloom. With pride, with happiness, with acceptance. As if that one little sincere word was the nicest thing he's ever heard in his entire existence.
"Get some rest, Mother," the boy spoke softly, his words more firm in their affection, "I'll make sure to wake you for your dinner. As soon as Mr. Bandersnatch heard that you fell ill and, although you said you don't much care for him, he's been causing quite a fuss a.."
Everything after that was lost to you as you faded away into a deep and dreamless sleep, the only thought left on the tip of your tongue was a quiet curse.
You've been reborn as the tyrant Queen of Heart's mother.
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You awaken one day with perhaps the largest bump you've ever seen placed nearly perfectly center on your forehead. You don't remember how you got it but the two princes never left your side (Falena would not stop crying and despite his claims of laughter at your expense, you can tell his brother was equally worried), only being dragged away by their tutor as soon as they let their guard down.
You looked down at the hands on your lap and clutched your fists open and closed over and over again. Gone were your long fingers and wide palms, instead you look down at the chubby hands of a child no more then six.
From what your handmaiden had told you, the three of you had been playing spelldrive together and Leona, in his eagerness to best his brother, had shot the disk perhaps a bit too strong and instead of flying in to the goal, it had changed course and struck you hard enough to knock you unconscious for the rest of the early hours of the morning.
You remembered this event. It's what led to Falena's betrothed sticking closer to him and farther from Leona. What once was a well balanced trio had become a teeter totter with Falena and her on one side and Leona alone, unable to change anything with what little weight he had to offer.
Falena's betrothed; that was you. From the story you had read, the two were deeply in love and ruled the kingdom hand in hand towards a brighter future... all while unknowingly leaving the youngest brother in the shadows, forgotten and alone and desperate. You couldn't afford for that to happen.
You don't see the two of them until late that evening. Falena looked exhausted, like the tutoring had beaten any last bit of energy he could spare and with a loud yawn, had eagerly hopped into the cot next to you on your right. Leona was slow to join but settled himself to your left, his shoulder bumping yours.
"You look ridiculous," he spoke aloud, glancing at your bruised forehead. You just gave him your most unimpressed stare you could manage.
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"Aaah! They're bleeding!"
"Ahahaha!"
"Ow!! They're biting me!! Get a teacher!!"
You couldn't see anything past the arms and tails flailing around you as you reached out and clawed and bit at anything that dared get too close to you, lashing out with everything your new and tiny body would allow. Your teeth were currently sunk deep in the tail flesh of a mermaid boy, his fists digging into your hair as he tried to pull you off of him.
Blinking past the shock, you could only bite harder, unwilling to let go of your prey. Despite the danger you were posing, you couldn't remember why you were biting this hard. Why this particular mermaid? What had he done that was worthy of your bite? It all didn't matter much as you were quickly hoisted up by the back of your neck and away from the shrieking mass of children. You could taste blood and flesh between your sharp teeth and you loudly spit it out, earning an even bigger wave of a response from the students.
"This is why we can't have piranhamer with the other students!" Cried an adult, "They only cause trouble!" They looked towards the source of the problem. Away from the other children and the source of your outuburst lied cowering octomer, spluttering and crying.
"What happened?" Your teacher seethed, eyes abruptly turning to you.
"I-I," you were taken aback that no one seemed to be comforting the child who stood alone and in a fit of rage unknown to you, you kicked and clawed at the hand holding you, your tiny fists barely making them flinch "They were bullying him!! I hate it!! I'll bite them over and over until they apologize!!"
"He's weird!" One mermaid child cried, her arms crossed, "And he made us lose in our swimming game because he's so slow and f-"
The teacher quickly reaffirmed their grip on you as you lunged towards her, your jaw snapping loudly causing her to shriek and dart behind the others, her tail barely peaking out from the crowd of mer.
Two eels watched in mild curiosity as you continued gnawing on your teachers arm, one with his arms crossed and another with an almost devilish grin on his face.
"Eheheh~ I like that one, Azul! Neh neh, Jade~ We should keep the little bitey one!"
"Fufufu~"
"Snff... snff......"
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fourmoony · 4 months
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Hi oh my gosh I love literally everything you write. And you're doing poly!marauders. So excited.
Would you be willing to do something like reader doesn't have a great self-esteem so she never thought she'd find someone who'd love her just the way she is but then she found them. and is just super in love and incredibly happy?
could be nsfw too if you want.
thankyou!
you are so kind, thank you so much, angel! thanks for requesting, hope you like it :) p.s. this is my first time writing poly!marauders so be gentle pls <3
poly!marauders x f!reader | 1.2k words | masterlist
cw - implied self esteem issues
You feel content in your little bubble.
The kitchen is warm and filled with love and laughter and bodies and the conversation flows freely. It's comfortable and cosy and Remus is making soup so really, your day couldn't get any better.
James is cutting vegetables under Remus' watchful gaze and Sirius is practically hanging over Remus' shoulder, as excited as you about the pot of soup on the stove. You're content to just watch them, let them just be from your place on the counter beside the stove. Remus had chastised you'd burn the side of your leg, James had made an ill timed joke about getting to kiss it better, and said burn was yet to occur. So you sit. You watch. You smile to yourself because you're happy.
It's a daily struggle to remind yourself that you're worthy of being included in this little bubble, that the boys want you here as much as you want to be here. Some days it feels impossible, some days you feel like an intruder, like a burden they're too nice to get rid of. Then Sirius does something so stupidly Sirius and Remus will lean over, kiss the shell of your ear and thank you for being the only sane person in the house. And James asks if he can sit with you while you shower. It's not about sex. Not always, at least. James just likes to listen to your day and tell you about his without the constant buzz of conversation around him, sitting on the toilet with fogged up glasses and a smile on his face. He joins you on the bad days, helps you forget. It's peaceful, and it's your ritual.
They do everything they can to remind you, every day, that they want you there, that they love you as you love them. It's a nice feeling, to be wanted, to be loved, to be understood and appreciated. It's an even lovelier feeling to be a part of someone's routine. The showers with James, pestering Remus while he cooks dinner, reading to Sirius until he falls asleep, sprawled out across the three of you on the couch, his breaths heavy and your hand in his hair. It's a nice life you have. That counts for a lot, even on the days you don't feel worthy.
Today isn't necessarily one of those days, but it's there on your face. That 'outsider looking in' type of mood you get when you think about it for too long. You've discovered you're allowed to feel both content and undeserving at the same time - or, at the very least, that it's possible. You often wonder why Remus, Sirius, and James chose you. It's not a secret, you've asked many times and received many answers, varying in seriousness to Sirius' absurd "we tossed a coin.", to which Remus chastised him relentlessly.
You'd laughed, and that was all Sirius had needed.
Now, you're watching the three of them with the same awe you always do, and Sirius seems to catch it in the split second his eyes leave the pot of soup on the stove. He's on you in a second, not a far walk considering you're sitting so close to the gas stove that you're surprised Remus' theory of your burnt thigh hasn't come true. Sirius' eyebrows furrow in that concerned sort of way they often do when he's trying to read one of the three of you, his hands gentle as they come into contact with the pudge of your hips.
"Spill," He tilts his head, lips downturned at the corners and it makes your heart ache.
They've always urged you to be open, to share your concerns and tell them what, exactly is going on in that 'big beautiful brain of yours', as James calls it. But the look of knowing, of concern, on Sirius' face hurts. You hate that after all this time you still feel this way sometimes. Even on the good days, you catch yourself asking what you did to deserve your boys.
"Hm?" You hum, hands lifting to hold the sides of your boyfriend's face in hopes of distracting him altogether.
His hair is tied back, but you curl an index finger around a strand of stark black hair thats fallen into his face and Sirius smiles, soft and lovely, "You've got that," He waves his hand in front of your face with wiggled fingers and you laugh, "look."
"What look?" You ask, leaning forwards to press a kiss to his lips.
Now Remus, if you had tried a move like that, would tsk, tell you to spill before he rewards you, and it's why you know it'll work when you try it with Sirius. He always gives you whatever you like. His lips return the favour, hands pulling you forward a little on the counter. It's a nice kiss, a sweet kiss, until James scoffs and declares Sirius is easily manipulated.
"Am not." He grumbles, shooting your two boyfriends a dirty look.
Remus rolls his eyes into the soup, sets the lid on it to simmer at the same time James drops the knife and starts putting the vegetables into a bowl.
"C'mon, Dove, what's up?" Remus asks, hip balanced against the stove, turned to face you.
He's in his comfies, the first of the four of you to arrive home from work, earlier, and he looks so soft and warm. You know he won't give in to whatever interrogation Sirius has unknowingly started so you heave a sigh and slump back against the wall cabinets.
"Sirius is being dramatic. The 'look' I had was contentedness with a little bit of 'what on earth did I do to deserve these men?'."
Remus' lips turn up at the corners and he crowds your space, pushing an annoyed Sirius to the side for the moment, "You didn't have to do a thing. We love you as is."
You hum, delighted with the appraisal, a bashful smile coming across your lips. Remus kisses it, quick and sweet, and returns to his soup. Sirius sticks his tongue out at the side of Remus' head and you laugh. James passes the vegetables off to Remus because Sirius is not to be trusted with the good kitchen knives after the Christmas Eve in A&E incident last year, and comes up behind Sirius, arms wrapped around his waist, head firmly on his chin.
You know James' back is probably breaking at the angle, but Sirius would simply be offended for the rest of the night if James used his head instead of his shoulder. He's in denial about his height, you suppose.
"It's more like what on earth we did to deserve you. I've no idea how you put up with those two." James gives you a knowing smile as he speaks.
You both wait for Sirius' outrage and Remus' offended scoff. Both come. They team up on the other side of the kitchen, Sirius hovering over Remus and likely causing more of an annoyance. James uses it as an opportunity to get you closer to him, whisk you off to the couch in the living room now his sous chef duties are complete.
You set up the usual dinner time sitcom and pause it, relaxing into your boyfriend and talking about anything and everything until Remus calls that the soup is ready.
In the kitchen as James and Sirius fight over who should get the first bowl, Sirius because he waited so patiently, or James because he actually helped, Remus slides you your own bowl with a lovely big smile reserved just for you, and you couldn't imagine yourself anywhere else in the world.
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How about BSD men when you're sick with a cold? (Totally not cause i have one rn lmaoo) I love your work btw <3
Thank you sm! And ofc! Hope you like this!!! (same, I was sick this whole week 😞😞 hope you get better soon)
(This is part 1. Part 2 with the rest of the members will come shortly!!!! I decided to slip it so at least one half of it was out…I think I might start doing this in the future to be able to post more frequently! Btw, I have seen all your requests and currently working on them!!!! Please keep requesting! I love every single one of them!)
BSD Men When Reader Is Sick With a Cold (P.1)
In this post: 🌹 Doppo Kunikida, Atsushi Nakajima, Yukichi Fukuzawa, Edogawa Rampo, 🌹
Pairing: Fem!reader/BSDMen
Synopsis; How would the BSD Men act when you have a cold.
Yukichi Fukuzawa
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Fukuzawa, being the president of the Armed Detective Agency is a responsible person. The minute he notices you’re feeling sick, he takes care of you so well, he almost rivals Yosano. He makes sure that you take all your medications, constantly checking your temperature, and will not make you lift a single finger. You are his sick princess; you stay in bed and do absolutely nothing. If you ask for anything, he would rush to get it for you. With Fukuzawa’s love and great, responsible care, you overcame your cold very quickly.
“Where is (Y/N)?” His voice cut through the thick fog in your mind, sounding distant and echoing loudly. You winced, peeking open your eyes. Reality felt dreamlike; you saw Fukuzawa walk towards you, the view of your boyfriend slanted, as you were lying on the surface of the table in the conference room. You had hoped to refresh the burning hellfire that crackled in your mind, but with no avail.
“My dear,” Fukuzawa sighed, sitting down next to you. “You should go home.” He chided, pressing a large hand to your forehead. Your elevated temperature made his usually calm face grow worried. “You’re burning…you’re going home.”
You tried to protest, feebly gripping his arm to hold him back, but the worried glance Fukuzawa threw at you, seeing you pale, burning, nothing could convince him to make you stay at work.
You closed your eyes, your illness draining you far too much to remain awake. Every sound echoed in your ears, hurting your already weakened head.
When you blinked your eyes open, you found yourself in your apartment, and only vaguely remembered Atsushi bringing you home. Fukuzawa would have done so himself if he didn’t have a crucial meeting with a politician he could not avoid.
You dragged yourself to bed, too tired to change, only falling in your futon. Morpheus immediately pulled you under, dragging you to the depths of a dreamless sleep.
You opened your eyes suddenly, feeling a presence next to you even through your agitate sleep. Your eyes had to concentrate more than usual to focus on reality, ironing what was blurry, before you noticed the presence was Fukuzawa.
“Shh…I’m here, my love,” he whispered in your ear, adjusting the covers around you to make sure you weren’t exposed to any cold air. You immediately calmed down, snuggling against his chest. “Take this before you sleep,” Fukuzawa whispered, slipping two pills inside your mouth. You swallowed, knowing they were probably medication to reduce your fever.
You conked out right after, vaguely remembering finding it difficult to fall into deep sleep. You only found peace when Fukuzawa wrapped you in his arms, caressing your head.
You woke up the next morning to an empty bed. You sat up, pressing a hand to your forehead. You sighed in relief when you realized your temperature had gone down, but you still felt under the weather, your eyes burning, and your throat itchy. You glanced at Fukuzawa’s empty spot, wondering where he could have gone.
Almost sensing your thoughts, your boyfriend walked inside your room, carrying a mug of delicious warm milk with honey. “Good morning, sweetheart.” He cooed, seeing you sniffle sadly, clearly not happy you were sick. “I made this for you.” He handed the mug to you, making sure you didn’t burn yourself holding it.
“Yukichi, I don’t like being sick.” You whined, leaning against his side when he sat down next to you.
“I know, darling, but you have to rest to get better. And not stoically push through it like you were doing yesterday.” He chided softly, urging you to drink milk. You pouted, knowing he was right.
You couldn’t help but feel sadness crawl on your face, when you realized you wouldn’t be able to spend your few days off having fun with your partner, who you already saw too little of.
Fukuzawa realized, and to try and bring back the sparkle of happiness on your face, even amid a sore threat and runny nose, he leaned down to press a kiss to the tip of your nose. “Would you wish to watch a movie?”
As he had hoped, a smile brightened your face, and you almost jumped up in joy, Fukuzawa’s hand blocking you from doing so, afraid you would topple over sick. “Can we watch a romcom?”
“Whatever you desire, my love.”
The two of you cuddled in bed, using your laptop to watch your favorite romcom. You could have not been happier, snuggling underneath the covers with your perfect boyfriend, and Fukuzawa also enjoyed spending some time with you, peppering a series of kisses on your face every time the characters kissed on scene.
Edogawa Ranpo
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Ranpo is…interesting when you are sick. It’s one of the few times he shuts down, and does not know what to do, or how to react. For once, the genius detective feels lost. When he realizes you’re sick, his first reaction is disgust, and worry that you could infect him, and then he freezes when he realizes you, his beloved (Y/N), is sick. Panic infects his body, and he just..crashes. It takes a few seconds for his heart to calm down, and to regain the composure on his face. All of his panic runs behind his face, only visible through his emerald green eyes to whomever knows him very well. The moment he has calmed down, he takes control, even if the fear of messing up and making you even sicker haunts his mind. Ranpo cures you slightly chaotically, forgetting to give you medicine and then remembering late at night, but he tries his best, and succeeds in making you feel better, inevitably being exhausted by the time you are no longer sick. Now it’s your turn to take care of him.
“Where is (Y/N)?” Ranpo asked, sulking at his deck, his lips wrapped around a vanilla lollipop as his green eyes scanned the office, noticing your absence.
“She took a day off.” Kunikida replied, not lifting his gaze from his computer.
“She didn’t tell you?” Dazai asked as he spun around in his chair, accidentally kicking Kunikida’s leg and then rolling away when his partner got mad.
Ranpo shook his head, sucking on his lollipop pensively. “Nope…I wonder why,” he thought aloud. You were his girlfriend, and always told him everything. He didn’t know why you didn’t tell him today that you wouldn’t be going. He knew you knew he preferred when you were in the office, brightening his day by just caressing his hand when you walked by, busy working.
When you were not there, Ranpo usually took the day off with you, doing whatever you had needed to be doing. For a second, Ranpo’s rapid mind jumped to the unrealistic thought that you might be cheating on him, but he quickly threw the idea away, not even considering it.
But the lack of knowledge irked Ranpo, and he didn’t feel like rummaging through his pocket to find his glasses to use Ultra Deduction. Instead, Ranpo tapped on his phone for a few minutes, calling your number.
The wait felt excruciatingly long, and he only focused onto the rhythmic beeping, completely ignoring Kunikida choking Dazai.
“Hello?” You answered, your voice strangely nasally and lower than usual.
“(Y/N)!” Ranpo called sadly, pouting. “Why did you not tell me you were taking a day off? I could come over and cuddle in bed with you,” he whined, throwing the finished lollipop in the bin.
You sighed: you had hoped you could escape telling your adorable boyfriend that you were sick. He always panicked, and exhausted himself while he took care of you, and you didn’t feel like draining his energies for a menial cold. But of course, nothing ever went the way you had intended it to, still feeling a little smugness lift your lips into a smile: Ranpo had noticed your absence almost immediately.
“I’m sick,” you explained. Almost to provide you with ironclad evidence, your throat started itching uncomfortable, and you coughed for a few seconds.
When your words registered in Ranpo’s head, he froze. His eyes went unfocused, and his phone almost slid out of his grasp. An avalanche of thoughts flooded his mind, the most common theme, fear and worry. Extreme fear for you, and worry because he didn’t know how to care for you; both feelings battled in his chest, a conflicting tsunami that only rendered his green eyes duller.
“Ranpo?” You asked, your voice rough after your coughing fit, but the silence on the other end of the line scared you more.
“I’m coming over.” Was the curt reply you got.
“Wait, what? Ranpo, no you’ll get sick — and he hung up.” You sighed, placing the phone back next to you, and waiting for Ranpo to barge in through your door.
It took a good thirty minutes, but your prediction came true. Opening with his copy of the key, Ranpo flew in, his arms decorated by various bags filled with medicines. “I’m here!” He gasped, his chest heaving.
“Ranpo, did you run?!” You croaked, trying to get out of bed and hold Rampo before he inevitably collapsed.
“No, of course not.” He replied, blatantly lying. He gently pushed you back down on the bed, climbing in after you. He emptied out all bags in the center of the bed, and you widened your eyes in shock at the medium sized pile that formed on your duvet.
“Oh my god…that’s enough medicine for a lifetime,” you whispered. You did, however, feel very loved, as you watched Ranpo rummage through the pile, trying to find a specific packet. This man, who hated exercise, had run around multiple pharmacies to try and find one that would make you feel better. Your heart melted into your chest, almost making your tired eyes teary. You gently clasped his hand, pressing a kiss to his knuckles.
Ranpo barely noticed, digging frantically. “Here it is!” He exclaimed victoriously shoving a small, blue box into your hands. “This is the best one for sore throats, apparently.” He said, a proud smile loitering on his face.
You opened it, downing the pills with some water. “Thank you, Ranpo,”
“Am I the best boyfriend or what?”
“You certainly are.”
Ranpo’s smile grew, and his cheeks darkened by a few shades: receiving praise from you was on the same level as receiving praise from the president from him. “Now, they said sleep helps as well, so we should sleep.” Ranpo declared, hurriedly placing all the medications on your bed side table, before dragging himself underneath the covers, and snuggling against you.
You laid your head on his chest, already feeling your throat become less irritated, letting you exhale peacefully. Ranpo fell asleep before you, his rhythmic breathing becoming your lullaby. As felt your eyes go droopy, and your mind quiet down, resembling a calm mountain spring, you could not help but think that you truly had gotten the best boyfriend in the world.
That claim was instantly withdrawn when you were shaken awake at 3 in the morning by a sleep-drunk Ranpo, who suddenly remembered you had to take another medicine in while talking that one. You sighed, but after all, it meant Ranpo truly loved you, and that was more than enough for you.
Doppo Kunikida
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Kunikida is a man of rules, and ideals, and he tries to follow his life bound by his self-imposed rules. He has a specific page on his notebook dedicated to the procedure to follow when he, or you, go down with a cold. But his ideals, and rules get thrown down the drain when you actually have a cold. Like Ranpo, Kunikida freezes, but not because he does not know what to do, but because he wants to do everything in his power to make you feel better. Seeing you sick, and coughing makes his heart ache, and is what pushes him out of his brief moment of panic. Kunikida writes down your symptoms in his notebook, and goes out on a hunt to find the best medication. He will then take care of you lovingly, but also strictly, not letting you get out of bed, or miss some medications because you say you feel better. A small part of him will also be blaming himself for allowing you to get sick, even if he can’t protect you from everything. Kunikida will, however, always remain by your side, not caring of the perpetual danger of falling ill as well: he can’t leave you alone when you’re sick. You’ll be wrapped in his arms at all times, and that is one of the best aspects of being taken care of by Kunikida.
Kunikida was typing on his computer, filling a report that, initially, had been Dazai’s. He noticed movement from the corner of his eyes, noticing you slumping in the chair next to his.
“Kunikida,” you called, gently tapping on his desk to get his attention.
“Yes, darling?” He asked, still typing on his computer.
“Do I feel a little warm to you?”
Kunikida looked up from his computer immediately after hearing your words. He instantly stood up, walking towards you. Your health always took priority on his work.
You did look paler, and more tired, Kunikida thought, as he pressed his hands on your forehead. “You’re a little warm,” he sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Unfortunately, I cannot go home with you right now.” Kunikida said, hurriedly looking through his notebook, snapping it closed in anger.
You waved your hand. “Don’t worry, Kuni, I’ll just go home by myself.” You tried standing up, but Kunikida gently pushed you back down on the chair.
“I can’t let you go home alone. You’ll stay here, and I’ll take care of you while I work.” Kunikida declared, picking you up in his arms.
“Darling, I don’t feel that sick…and taking care of me while you work will just exhaust you more than you already are!” You tried protesting, as your boyfriend gently laid you down on the couch in the Armed Detective Agency office.
“Taking care of you will never exhaust me.” Kunikida grumbled, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. He took his jacket draped on the back of his chair and covered you with it, returning to his desk to continue working.
Throughout the day, Kunikida walked over to your half conscious, half sleeping form on the couch, taking your temperature, and bringing you cups of water to drink. Kunikida also gave you various medicines that he had quickly popped out to buy on his break.
Various times you caught him glancing at you with worry, feeling that he was not doing enough to take care of you. You also saw him intensely research which medication to give you, also going as far as calling Yosano (it was her day off) to ask her what she thought would be the best course of action.
Lying on the couch, slipping in out of sleep, you felt enveloped by the warmth of your boyfriend’s love, who took care of you efficiently even while he was working.
You slowly woke a few hours later, noticing that the bright sunlight had been replaced by the lukewarm colors of the sunset, and the agency was empty, only Kunikida remaining, sitting at his desk. His hair shone like golden strands in the light, and his grey eyes resembled pieces of melted starlight.
You pushed yourself up, noticing your fever had gone. Your throat was still itchy, and your nose still clogged, but you felt better, overall. You slipped Kunikida’s jacket on, walking quietly towards him. You leaned over his shoulder, caressing his cheek, your two shadows intertwined on the floor.
Kunikida turned to glance at you, surprised. “Do you feel better, sweetheart?” He asked, turning to face you, immediately pressing his hand to your forehead to check your temperature.
You leaned into his touch, nodding happily. “All thanks to you, my perfect doctor,” you cooed, sliding down in his lap. Kunikida turned a fiery red, looking away.
“(Y/N), this is highly inappropriate!” He squeaked, although his hands tentatively went to wrap around your waist.
“Oh, come on: no one else is here. It’s not like we’re fucking in public.” You joked, panicking when you heard Kunikida choke on his spit. You laughed, gently slapping him on his broad back. “Ah, what should I do with you?” You asked, peppering kisses on his jaw.
“Kiss me properly,” Kunikida said quietly, seemingly having abandoned the war cry of propriety.
You laid your head on his shoulder, admiring his sharp features that were only accentuated by the dying sunlight that slid through the large windows. “I can’t, Kuni, I’ll get you sick.”
Kunikida looked at you in silence for a second, also admiring your face, his eyes zoning in on your lips. You saw the internal struggle reflected clearly on his eyes, a dueling waltz between his love for you and his ideals.
“Oh to hell,” he croaked, before diving down to press a passionate kiss to your lips, even going as far as to slide his tongue inside your mouth.
Your eyes widened in shock, but you quickly responded, threading your hands through his hair. Kunikida slowly pulled back after a few minutes, both of you panting for hair and grasping onto each other. Kunikida turned even redder when he noticed a small string of saliva glittering between the two of you. He pressed his forehead against yours: “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“Oh! How cute!” Dazai called suddenly, waltzing into the room.
Kunikida never fainted so fast before in his life.
Atsushi Nakajima
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Atsushi would know what to do, probably having to take care of his fellow orphans. But he will do everything with an underlining panic he will try to hide for your sake, but that you will inevitably notice because he’s soaking in sweat, even if it’s winter. It’s because he worries so much; anxiety crawls inside his body, and he almost dies on the spot. But once you reassure him that it’s just a common cold, his heart will stop running a marathon and he will calm down. Atsushi takes care of you with love, as well as diligence, sleeping lightly to make sure you’re sleeping well. He’ll make you take warm baths, helping you get out and in, and will cook you whatever you want.
When Atsushi had waltzed into your shared apartment, excited to take you out on a date, his heart had dropped to his stomach when he saw you bundled up in your futon, trembling.
“A-Atsushi!” You called, your voice nasally. You opened your arms, looking like a scarecrow draped in duvets and covers.
“What happened?” Your sweet jinko boyfriend asked, worry evident in his furrowed brows as he knelt next to you, tucking the covers back around your body to make sure no draft would touch your skin.
“Got a cold from my last mission,” you mumbled, sniffling. “Walking around the countryside drenched in cold, mountain water was not a smart idea.”
“You did what?!” Atsushi stared at you, even more worried because you had walked around for god knows how long shivering in the icy air. You smiled sheepishly. Atsushi sighed, exasperated, pressing one of his hands to your forehead, relieved that you seemed to have only a slight fever. But your shivers were worrying his already panic-stricken heart.
“I’ll make you some soup.” He started getting up, but you grabbed his loose tail and tugged back onto the futon.
“No…warm me up! You’re always so warm!” You whined.
“I’ll do that after I make you the soup, okay, love?” Atsushi asked, gently persuading you to let go of his belt.
You pouted, reluctantly letting go. Your face suddenly brightened. “What if you order pizza!”
“No! That’s not what you need right now!” Atsushi called from the kitchen, scolding you gently. You sighed, dropping back into the covers.
Your caring boyfriend soon walked out of the kitchen, holding a steaming bowl in his hands, his eyes fixated on the quivering soup that danced threateningly close to the edge, teasing to suddenly overflow.
Atsushi placed it down in front of, a sigh of relief rushing out of his lips. You giggled, eyeing the sweat that had accumulated on his forehead out of concentration. You reached down to grab the spoon. You blinked, and the spoon was gone, now tightly held in Atushi’s grasp.
“Absolutely not. I’m feeding you.” He said, deciding to ignore your questioningly raised eyebrow. “And I’m not exaggerating.”
You decided to stay quiet, and simply enjoy the care your boyfriend was enveloping you in, relishing in the joy of being loved. You obediently swallowed down the warm and delicious soup, noticing how it smoothed out the irritation in your throat. “It’s delicious, ‘Sushi,” You said, in between spoonfuls.
Atushi’s cheeks turned red, and he grinned shyly, playing around with the remaining soup in the bowl. “I’m a good cook, aren’t I?” You threw your arms around him, nuzzling your nose against his.
“The best cook.” Atsushi beamed back at you, kissing the tip of your nose as he put the bowl down.
Lazily, you trailed your hand down his chest, feeling his solid muscles underneath. An idea suddenly came to you, and a lazy grin spread on your lips. “Baby, I’m cold.” You whined.Your hand, who had momentarily stopped on his stomach, restarted its journey, slowing sliding down to to his crotch.
Atsushi, who had been resting his head against yours, pulled back to look at you, worry evident in his eyes. “You’re cold…— (Y/N), WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” He gasped in surprise when he felt your warm hand on his dick, his breath getting stuck in his throat.
“Thanking the cook for the delicious dish!”
“A-Absolutely not! You’re sick! No!” He stammered, his eyes wide and panicked, his hand immediately clasping yours and gently pushing you back down in the bed, tucking the covers around you, restricting your movements: Atsushi knew he couldn’t resist you for long, and needed to prevent your hands to linger on his body before he got a hard-on.
“Atsushi! What the fuck?!”
“You need to rest. Doing what you wanted to do is not resting.” Atsushi stumbled and tripped over his words, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. You huffed, rolling your eyes. Atsushi glanced at you, playing with his fingers. “If you’re better tomorrow then maybe…” He quietly trailed off, defeated by the small pout that lingered on your face. You immediately perked up, smirking at him. “B-but only if you feel better!”
“I’ll sleep right away and get all the rest in the world so I feel better immediately!” You giggled, lying comfortably down in bed.
Atsushi sighed, a small smile on his lips, knowing that his heart truly belonged to you. He quickly slipped underneath the covers, holding you in his arms to suppress the shivers that had suddenly returned. You soon fell asleep, and Atsushi stayed awake a few more minutes, making sure you weren’t uncomfortable, before letting himself be pulled to sleep. But not too deep of a slumber: he had to make sure you, his treasure, his princess slept fine throughout the night. He was ready to sacrifice his sleep for that.
176 notes · View notes
hypnoneghoul · 3 months
Text
Do Not Go Away
WC: 13k
Relationship: Rain/Dewdrop, Rain/Everyone, not rel. focused
Tags: Disability, Chronic Illness, EDS, POTS, Lots of Crying, Angst with a Happy Ending, Passing Out, Depressive Episode, Abandonment Issues, Self-Hatred, Marriage Proposal, Unreliable Narrator, Mild Suicidal Thoughts, Panic Attacks
"You finally did it, you pushed us all away.  Congratulations, Rain. You are free." Or how Rain's body finally gives up and he gives up with it.
Notes: This is me expanding on this post in a heartbreaking way. Also making my worst fears come true for Rain, sorry not sorry, but at least at the end of the day he's not alone, right? While it's not my best work it's the most important and personal to me, I hope you'll like it. It's multi chaptered on ao3 so it's easier to grab a hold of an read bit by bit.
Read under the cut or on AO3.
Now with art from Nono and Felix
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Nobody really knows what went wrong with Rain’s summoning. Nobody really knows if it  all originated from it, anyway. At least he’s not the only one, Zephyr is still there. What a thing to bond over, they have.
Rain was never doing good. Never good, just decent. He was tired all the time. And in pain.
“It is what it is,” he always said, shrugging. “It’s what comes with a faulty vessel.”
He was used to it already. Or was he?
He could deal with it, mostly. Sometimes it was better, sometimes it was worse, but in general he was okay. He had his pack, he had his music. He was okay.
Until he was not.
Until all he could do was lay and stare at the ceiling, without any power to move, with a lump in his throat, because everything hurt, the world was spinning and he was too exhausted to even cry. His phone was thrown somewhere next to him or on the bed, battery either already out or just right about to be. He could have grabbed it and sent a text—would his fingers manage? Hell, he could have even screamed—to someone, anyone, ask for…
For what, exactly?
Help? Help in what? There’s no helping him, is there? He’s broken and that’s it.
That is why he would just lay there, unable to move, unable to cry, unable to fall asleep, listening to his own shallow breathing and racing heart and feeling all the pain coursing through his damaged body.
Until it would be decent again.
Until the day when the decent would not come back.
This day was near, and Rain knew it.
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The tour has never seemed so long. Maybe it never was, but Rain wasn’t bothered enough to actually check the dates and do the math. It’s not like it would change anything, would it?
He was a ghost. He was just there, barely present, just doing what he absolutely had to, and that was it. He was in pain, and despite the exhaustion he saw what it was doing to his packmates. They all had their own aches and they were equally tired, he hated that he was causing them distress just by… by existing.
Rain tried to convince himself it wasn’t his fault, he was summoned that way and most of the time he was careful as to not make it all worse. He knew his limits and usually did not go beyond them. Usually.
He hated that he was like that, broken, whether it was his fault or not. What did he do to deserve it? Most importantly, what did his packmates do to deserve to be burdened by his existence? What did Papa do?
The water ghoul tried his best to not be bigger of a bother than he already was. Swiss and Dewdrop usually called him a dumbass for that, told him that he was a bother only when sulking around with a frown on his pretty face. He always smiled at that, but when they looked away that frown always returned. No matter how much he appreciated the jokes, they weren’t fixing anything.
That was back home, in the Abbey.
Now, well into another tour, the rest didn’t even try the jokes. If they saw Rain needed them, they’d just quietly slip their hands into his and pull him away onto a couch or a bunk and hold him, sometimes letting him just cry it out. He used to feel better after that, just being with them, whoever it was. It was hard to believe that they still loved him, despite all, but some part of Rain’s brain knew it was the truth. It was what kept him alive.
He wanted to give them something in return, but he simply couldn’t. There was nothing but his body, the same one that caused all the problems in the first place. He didn’t have the energy for sex, not even the softest moments with one of his mates, not even if they’d do all the work. He knew they’d do anything for him, but he also knew he’d pass out the moment any of his blood went to his cock. The exhaustion and pain took away any potential need he might feel, anyway.
So Rain just was.
The only time he was something more, not just surviving but living, was when his aching fingers touched the sleek, shiny body of one of his basses. When his arms shook under its weight when he slung it over his shoulder. When he ran a finger over the thick strings. When he felt note after note vibrate through him.
It was what kept him sane.
He kept wondering for how much longer.
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It was bad.
Three shows of the tour left. Rain didn’t think he’d make it. He was always doubtful, but this time it was the worst he’s ever been. He saw everyone around was worried, he wasn’t blind, even though they tried so very hard to not be obvious. They knew he wouldn’t listen or accept help, anyway.
He just had to focus, sleep as much as he could, eat well, stay hydrated, take painkillers and wear his braces and he’d be fine. He was a ghoul, for Satan’s sake, a literal demon, he wasn’t going to just– just fail. He was not failing anyone, even himself.
Rain didn’t help with unloading the gear or soundcheck this time. Not on purpose, he always helped, he was just asleep the whole day and no one woke him up. They did so just in time to eat something and get in costume for the show. The water ghoul would love to have helped, despite all, but his body was certainly grateful for just that little less work.
The show started out as usual, without much struggle, probably due to adrenaline, which—no matter how many times someone would play in front of thousands—never left. Rain started zoning out and trusting his muscle memory by the third song. Which one even was it?
He remembers tripping—nothing new—and maybe he even fell over once. Or twice?
Someone had to gently push the water ghoul in the general direction of his tech when the show ended and he didn’t notice. The bass was taken away from him and he was dragged around some more. He was so dizzy, he couldn’t really see, he realized then.
Rain couldn’t bend down for the bows, he’d pass right out. His back also wouldn’t like it much. He felt Cirrus and Papa gripping his hands for dear life but he couldn’t focus enough to squeeze them in return. He didn’t know if it was him swaying or if the stage was moving. Probably the former, he couldn’t see much and it wasn’t because of the mask. Maybe he was shaking, too? Most likely.
He nearly cried out when Papa and Cirrus let go of his hands. He knew he had to move, he couldn't just stay there standing in the middle of the stage like a deer caught in the headlights.
Rain tried, he directed all and any energy towards his legs and willed them to just work. He managed to take two impressively wobbly steps before someone—Swiss, his brain provided—wrapped an arm around his waist and took the majority of the water ghoul’s weight onto himself.
“I’ve got you,” Swiss whispered, and Rain tried his best to cling to his body as tightly as he clung to those words. He didn’t really register their way to the backstage area, having to focus on not collapsing. At least not yet. He nearly forgot about his back and hip and knee and ankle and–
“Can you stay here for a second? Just a second, I promise,” the multi ghoul asked him and he, somehow, nodded and Swiss let go of him before sprinting away, yelling something to someone. Rain could feel his eyes stinging and cold tears trailing down his cheeks and soaking into the balaclava. He tried to keep on his feet, he really did, Swiss promised he’d be back in a second, he could make it, but– he didn’t.
The water ghoul ran out of breath. He thought he saw Swiss running back in his direction but he couldn’t be sure, it was getting darker and darker all around. Was someone messing with the lights?
“Rain, shit– Phantom! Mountain! Move your asses someone!” Rain thought Swiss was yelling, but he couldn’t be, it was too quiet, muffled. When did he… when did he end up on the floor? Was Swiss holding him? His back hurt a lot now, legs too.
“I’ve got you, princess,” the multi ghoul muttered. Rain opened his mouth to reply, to tell him I know you do, but nothing came out.
He knew that was it, that was The Fail.
His eyes closed, and he floated away.
Rain was done.
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Dewdrop got to them first, of course. He must’ve felt something was very wrong with Rain through their bond. “What the fuck happened!?”
“He just– he fucking passed out, I’ve no idea!” Swiss was panicking. Truly a rare thing for him but the way Rain looked, the way he felt, the way he lay there limp in his arms terrified the multi ghoul. Rain has had his fair share of fainting spells and multitude of accidents, but this was different, and both Swiss and Dewdrop could see it.
“Give him to me,” the fire ghoul growled, throwing himself onto his knees, but the anger in his voice was not directed at Swiss. He carefully moved Rain so the other could hold him. He knew Dewdrop needed it to not freak out himself. “Help me with the mask.”
The multi ghoul obliged, taking it off with shaky hands, as well as the balaclava. His lips curved in a frown when he saw how pale Rain’s face was, how sunken his cheeks were.
“Get Phantom,” Dewdrop ordered. “Or find a medic or something, I don’t know, just– just get help.”
Swiss turned on his heel, ready to bolt and get someone. As he did he could hear Dewdrop mumbling to himself, voice shaking, and the multi ghoul’s heart squeezed painfully. “I don’t– I don’t know what to do, Angelfish, fuck…”
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Rain came back to reality slowly. First he registered the warmth all around him, but not the uncomfortable, overheating warmth. No, it was cozy and safe and it felt like–
“Dew?” he mumbled, trying to look around but his sight was, somehow, still not back fully. The warmth tightened around him—arms—and he felt and heard a purr from behind him.
“I’m here,” Dewdrop said, and indeed he was, laying with Rain between his legs, his back to the fire ghoul’s chest. Rain hummed and tried to twist so he could nuzzle into his partner, but the slight movement immediately caused a wave of pain to wash over his lower body and a whine to leave his lips. “Don’t move, shhh.”
“Wh– what happened?” the water ghoul asked quietly and tried not to wince as Dewdrop was the one to move and adjust so Rain could see him. 
“Well,” he sighed, “you were exhausted and sore well before tonight’s show. Then you fell over during the ritual. Twice. I guess that’s what made your legs and back so bad. At the end you passed out. For a few hours, it’s three in the morning now.”
“Fuck,” was all Rain could manage to choke out. Tears began gathering in his eyes, and Dewdrop, still carefully, scooted closer so the other could bury his face in his chest and hold onto him. “I– I’m sorry, we have two shows left, but I– I can’t, I hate it, I’m s– sorry.”
“Shhh, don’t apologize, don’t you dare,” Dewdrop cut him off and cupped the back of his head, bringing him closer.
“B– but the tour, Papa–”
“Papa is not angry. No one is,” the fire ghoul didn’t and wouldn’t let him babble about something everyone but Rain found absolute bullshit. “If anything, we’re all disappointed you haven’t said anything about how bad it was.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t think–”
“We’re not disappointed that you don’t trust us enough, I know that’s not the case. We hate to see you in pain, that’s it.
“I’m so–”
“Stop,” Dewdrop spat, but there was no venom in it. Quite the opposite, his voice nearly cracked and Rain thought he felt his heart cracking with it. He should’ve told them, asked for help. Now he made his lover upset and he was just a fuck up, he should–
“Stop,” the fire ghoul repeated. Rain took a deep breath, trying so hard to not burst into tears like a child. It was his own fault, he had no right to complain or feel bad about it.
He cleared his throat and whispered, “Where even are we?”
“In the girls’ nest,” Dewdrop told him. “Back of the bus.”
“What about them?”
“You need it more now.” He shrugged and another wave of guilt washed over Rain. The ghoulettes always slept together and the bunks didn’t allow that, so they had the nest. He’s taken it away from them. “They offered, they don't mind.”
“What about the rituals?”
“Playback. We’ve got recordings for everything, you know that.” He did know it, but he also knew it was nothing like live playing. The fans would be disappointed, he knew they loved each and every one of them. He remembers what happened when Sunshine and Aether didn’t show up when everyone had expected them, when everyone was excited to see them among the rest. Now, after a few years without any changes, the fans expected all of them and Rain knew he might be a favorite for many of them. He’d disappoint thousands.
“Stop thinking, Angelfish,” Dewdrop said. His voice was stern but not angry. If anything, it had a wet tone to it, as if the fire ghoul was on the verge of tears, too.
It took a few moments of silence, interrupted only by Rain’s sniffles, Dewdrop’s purr and the bus’ rumble, for the water ghoul to compose himself a bit and speak again, “Everything hurts.”
“Oh… I know, love.” Dewdrop was sure he could hear his own heart breaking. “I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t– I can’t even say what’s messed up, ‘cause it feels like… everything.”
“As far as I'm aware, after Phantom’s rough evaluation when you were passed out on the green room’s floor,” the fire ghoul sighed, “one of your hips is dislocated, I think one knee, too, and possibly an ankle, plus one wrist from you falling on it. You also most likely slipped a disc and something’s up with your ribs.”
“Oh.”
“Maybe it feel like everything because–”
“It is everything,” Rain sobbed. “I’m fucking done, completely broken, D– Dew, I– I can’t…”
“Shhh, Rain, breathe,” Dewdrop’s voice was shaking, for once he sounded out of place and Rain hated himself so much for it. He tried to do as he said, but it was so hard, everything hurt and he was suffocating under an avalanche of thoughts that he couldn’t stop. “Breathe, Angelfish, breathe with me.”
“D– Dew, I’m– I’m scared,” he cried out and he could feel Dewdrop’s own tears dripping down onto his face before the last word even left his mouth.
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The last two shows of the tour Rain spent on the bus sleeping. He could’ve been backstage, but he didn’t think he’d be able to bear listening to everything and not… not being there. Alone on the bus he could’ve at least cried his eyes out in peace, until he’d gotten a headache so intense from it he’d passed out. Two days in a row. 
Then it ended, officially, and the next two days were a blur of traveling by bus, by plane and then by bus again, until the noise of wheels over a smooth asphalt turned into a crunch of them over the Abbey’s gravel. Rain pretended he was asleep, let Swiss believe he was waking him up when they got back home and let himself be carried away to his room. They carried him around a lot lately, most of it against his will. He refused to use crutches, so they started to just hoist him up like a child, not caring about his protests. He didn’t have the strength to physically fight it, so he ended up just limply hanging off of whoever pulled the shortest straw.
Now, the water ghoul was carried out to his room, where he spent the night alone, cold, in pain and miserable. He hasn't slept alone in ages.
Rain didn’t know what time it was when he woke up, but it wasn’t particularly important anyway. It’s not like he had any plans and that made him angry.
He found himself not… scared, or sad, anymore. No, he felt so much rage, he felt like he was burning with it. He hated himself, he hated the world, the Clergy, Lucifer, his pack, Dewdrop. For what?
How could he?
The realization of how awful he was hit him like a freight train and bile rose in his throat. Rain closed his eyes again and hoped the sleep would return to him, so that he didn’t have to face the reality he’s found himself in just yet.
When he was roused from sleep again it was by a warm hand on his bare shoulder, making him gasp softly. “Rainy?”
“Mhm… Droplet? W’time is it?”
“Seven. In the evening,” Dewdrop mumbled, as if he wasn’t too proud of Rain’s achievement in sleeping for around twenty hours. Maybe it would be an achievement if he wouldn't be a water ghoul who can turn off his need to piss for when he sleeps. “Aren’t you hungry? Or dehydrated?”
“No,” Rain told him, simply, and yawned. He was annoyed.
“Still tired?”
“Mhm,” he hummed and snuggled further into his—somehow still cold—sheets. His eyes fluttered close and Rain hoped it would be a message clear enough for Dewdrop to leave him, but the fire ghoul seemed to have different plans. Rain heard him sigh and then felt the mattress next to him dip. He couldn’t have really prepared for the warm body suddenly glued to his side.
“What’r you doin’?” he barely held a growl back when Dewdrop started cuddling in even closer under his arm. Why did Rain feel like… like this? Dewdrop didn’t do anything wrong. Quite the opposite, he was doing his best to help, he didn’t deserve even a playful snarl to be thrown in his direction. If anything, it was Dewdrop who had the right to be bitter, aggressive and angry, not Rain. The fire ghoul went through things so much worse and he didn't act like a royal asshole about it. Not anymore, not towards his packmates. 
And Rain? He was bitching around for nothing.
Where did that sudden rage come from? He felt like he despised Dewdrop but… no– no, he loved him. When did he manage to lose that sense of himself?
“Sleeping,” the fire ghoul answered, and Rain didn’t dare open his mouth again, lest he hurt his lover worse than he already did, not even realizing it. He swallowed it down and this time his eyes had to be forced to close, his body had to be forced to relax and sleep had to be begged to take him. Rain didn’t sleep well that night.
In the morning he was the first to wake up, too. He spent the next five or fifty minutes staring down at the ghoul in his arms. That beautiful, kind, pure creature that didn’t deserve any hatred and maltreatment he experienced over the years. The man that Rain gave his heart and soul up for, and begged him to let him do so. The one the water ghoul loved more than anything, both Topside and in the Pits, in his immortal life.
And yet…
And yet Rain couldn’t wait for Dewdrop to wake up, get up and leave.
No, he didn’t want him to leave, that was… it was his worst nightmare. He never wanted to be alone, he was afraid of being alone, of being left behind and forgotten, of not being touched, of not being loved, what–
What the fuck was wrong with him?
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Rain wasn’t sure how long it took for Dewdrop to wake up. Wasn’t sure how long he spent drowning in thoughts that weren’t his own. What would they be doing in his head, then?
The fire ghoul got up and left—finally, Rain’s mind provided—claiming it was going to be a busy day for him. Something about post-tour gear maintenance and paperwork related to it. Dewdrop proposed he’d find someone to keep Rain company, but the water ghoul insisted he was fine on his own. It was possibly the biggest lie that had ever escaped his mouth, but Dewdrop left it alone. Left Rain alone.
He promised he’d be back by the end of the day, that he’d come back to spend the night with Rain again. In his mind he both begged Dewdrop to fulfill that promise and to never come near him again.
He wanted to be alone, but the moment the fire ghoul closed the door behind him Rain whimpered and if he had at least a fraction of strength in him, he’d throw himself onto the floor and crawl after Dewdrop and beg him not to leave.
He didn’t, so there Rain was, submerging bit by bit in an ocean of thoughts that he desperately wanted to not be his, to not come true. Why couldn’t he swim?
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Another day. 
Rain woke up alone and cold. Dewdrop didn’t come back.
His heart hurt, but he couldn’t blame him. He must’ve felt the negativity pouring off of Rain in waves, he must’ve known what was going through his head, he must’ve seen the change in how he held him.
The water ghoul didn’t know the time again. The curtains in his windows were shut, he couldn’t really estimate. It was probably more of an afternoon than a morning, but he didn’t care. He found himself not caring about a lot of things nowadays.
He opened his eyes with a sigh and tried his best to turn over onto his other side without causing himself any pain. He managed relatively well, only groaning a bit, but something set in the corner of his room, that wasn’t there before and wasn’t supposed to be there, caught his eye. A growl rose in his throat as Rain grabbed his phone and furiously found Swiss’ nickname in his contacts.
“Morning, Sleeping Beauty, you need anything?” the multi ghoul’s disgustingly sweet voice sounded from the speaker after a few seconds.
“Come here,” Rain snarled and hung up.
He knew Swiss would burst through the door in seconds, scared he might need help. In the short meantime the water ghoul threw his legs over the edge of the bed and got up. He padded over to that offending thing, and leaned against his desk next to it, glaring at it with gaze so fiery it could rival Dewdrop’s own.
“What’s wrong?” Swiss all but ran into the room, not being too careful about the door. He paused in the middle of it, taking in Rain’s fury.
“What the fuck is that?” he spat.
“It’s… uhm, it’s a wheelchair.”
“I can fucking see that!” the water ghoul shouted. Did Swiss think he was stupid? Did he think it was funny? “What is it doing here?”
“I brought it down from the infirmary.” He shrugged, brows furrowed at Rain’s raised voice. So he was right, it was his brilliant idea. “Can be useful.”
Silence fell for a moment, and Swiss thought Rain was thinking it through, that he was trying to be reasonable. But then he lifted his head and the multi ghoul felt like he was about to drown in the depth of anguish in Rain’s eyes. “Get it out.”
“What?”
“Get it out!” he blew up, spit flying from his mouth and tears clinging to his lashes. Before Swiss could make a move to do as he said, Rain snarled and turned to kick the wheelchair. It turned over a few times before ending up on the other side of the room, the multi ghoul’s eyes following it, but his head snapped back to Rain when he heard a thud and a painful moan from him. He put too much weight onto his bad leg when kicking that damned thing and nearly folded in on himself as he went down to the floor.
“Raincloud, Lord Below…” Swiss gasped, coming closer to help the other, but another growl—this time obviously being supposed to be threatening—escaped Rain’s mouth, curved into a pained frown.
“Don’t!” he yelled again. “Don’t fucking touch me, just– just get out.”
“Rain, I don’t–” Swiss tried, reaching a hand out. It hurt him so much, seeing Rain in pain, seeing him so– so miserable and broken. He’d never wished anything in his life as bad as to be able to take it all away from the water ghoul.
“I SAID GET OUT!” Rain still tried to sound relatively collected, act like it was only rage that was consuming him, nothing else. It was a fool's errand, of course, especially in front of Swiss. He could see right through him.
“Do you want Dew?” the multi ghoul asked quietly, not looking at Rain anymore. He let out a pained whimper, as if Swiss had just put a knife through his heart. He took it as a no.
The multi ghoul didn’t see a point in upsetting Rain any further. He nodded—pity pouring off of him—and turned on his heel to leave, shutting the door behind him. Leaving the flipped over wheelchair in the corner of the room.
Only when Rain couldn’t hear Swiss’ footsteps in the distance anymore did he break, tears flowing down his cheeks like waterfalls as he choked on them sobbing, curled up on the floor.
He cried and cried, sickeningly reveling in the pain increasing and enveloping him and the anger swallowing him up, until all he could do was stare at the scratched and dirty hardwood and desperately gasp for breath like a fish pulled out of water. In a way he was, and he began daydreaming about sinking to the bottom of the lake and never coming up again.
He’d miss the music and his pack but… would they miss him?
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Dewdrop was spending most of the week following their return from tour busying himself with chores, sleeping with anyone but Rain and crying. Usually into Swiss’ or Mountain’s shoulder.
He didn’t know what to do and he hated it. He hated seeing his partner in pain so much he stopped going to see him at all after two days. He just couldn’t bear it.
What he couldn’t bear even more, though, was the glint in Rain’s eyes and the tension in his body that told Dewdrop he hated him now. He tried so hard to not blame the water ghoul for it—for anything—to understand, to let him feel whatever it was that he was suffocating under in peace… but Dewdrop was always self-conscious, contrary to a popular belief.
He was terrified.
Terrified of Rain leaving him, of becoming a stranger to the man he loved above anything else in the universe. That’s what would kill Dewdrop.
Aether told him it would never happen, that it was physically impossible. He said he saw and felt the bond between Rain and Dewdrop and that it was something unbreakable, even if Lucifer Himself decided to try. He said the water ghoul would come around when his denial and anger would slowly turn to depression, then bargaining and finally to acceptance. Aether told Dewdrop that Rain loved and needed him, even if not right then.
“I need him, too, Aether,” the fire ghoul had said, and left. Aether seemed to not understand, even though he was supposed to be the one who understood everything. It all seemed… fake to Dewdrop.
He promised himself he’d never hate Rain. That no matter what he would do, what would happen, no matter how hard it would be, Dewdrop would be there. He would wait, even if it meant waiting till the damned end of the world. He would wait.
Another day—how many has it been?—of Dewdrop crawling into Swiss’ bed with his body, mind and heart all exhausted. The multi ghoul welcomed him with open arms again, crushing him to his chest, and let him whimper quietly.
“I miss him, Swiss.”
Even though Rain was right there, just behind a wall. Somehow that made it all worse. The fact that he was so close, yet never farther.
“I know, kitten,” Swiss sighed. “I do, too. But it’ll be alright.”
“I– I don’t know what to do.” Even though Dewdrop was saying those words over and over again, like a prayer, over the last few days, he couldn’t seem to get rid of his guilt. He was supposed to be there for Rain no matter what and what was he doing? Hiding in other’s arms because of his fragile feelings when his partner was in pain and alone.
“It’ll be alright,” the multi ghoul whispered, as every time before that. There was nothing else to say.
Then, as usual, after some time, some more whines and some tears Dewdrop fell asleep, Swiss following shortly. Dewdrop loved Swiss and Swiss loved him, they always slept well together, but those nights they both seemed to not get any real rest. Weighted down by the feeling of their lover, their friend, their family rotting.
When they woke up in the morning—Dewdrop first—they talked again. The fire ghoul always got ideas overnight, something he put all the remaining scraps of hope into, and shared them with Swiss, hoping for approval.
“You’re killing yourself over him, you know that?” he usually said instead.
And Dewdrop thought, what if this time it’s a good idea? This time he was sure, actually.
“Swiss, what if– I was planning something and maybe…” he trailed off, tracing his fingertips over the expanse of Swiss’ stomach, “maybe I should do it now, maybe it’d make him understand that I’m here. That I’m… you know, not going anywhere?”
“Let’s hear it,” the multi ghoul said, but there was a tinge of hesitation in his voice already.
“We’re together, technically, but what if… he always wanted to… to do something more human, you know? I planned it, but I’m a fucking coward and…”
Swiss floated away for a moment, not really listening to what Dewdrop was saying anymore. He knew what the plan was, it wasn’t the first time it was mentioned to him. He wasn’t sure it would work. Besides, how was anything supposed to work? What did that even mean? Maybe Dewdrop was right, maybe he should do it. Rain would cause—was causing—a lot of harm but there’s no way he would hurt Dewdrop that bad, if he… no, he wouldn’t, no matter what.
“...could go and–”
“Do it.”
“W– what?” the fire ghoul sputtered. “You like the idea?”
“I’m not sure,” Swiss sighed, nuzzling his face down into Dewdrop’s hair, “but I’m not sure about anything Rain-related right now, and this seems like something that could finally… snap him out of it.”
“Promise me you’re serious,” Dewdrop quietly begged into his neck. 
“I just– I just don’t think we can come up with anything better, kitten. We gotta get him back.”
“We gotta get him back,” the fire ghoul agreed. “We gotta get him back.”
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Dewdrop didn’t think he had ever been as nervous as now. He wasn’t just nervous, it wasn’t anxiety, it wasn’t stage fright. He was terrified that it wouldn’t change anything. He was terrified that it wouldn’t fix anything.
Still, he was not giving up.
He wanted to do it immediately. The fire ghoul parted with Swiss and ran to his own bedroom to prepare. As much as possible, at least. It wasn’t something one could really prepare for.
Dewdrop took a shower—boiling hot—got dressed in something that wasn’t a stretched out or stolen band t-shirt and bent down by his wardrobe to fish the most important part out. His hands were shaking, and he cursed himself out under his breath.
The fire ghoul shoved it into his pocket and stormed out of his room. Before he blinked he was already by Rain’s and he suddenly lost all the remaining scraps of courage he had. 
It was a stupid idea, Rain didn’t need that now, he’d be annoyed, it wouldn’t work, it was a bad moment, he should just–
“I can hear you breathing over there,” the water ghoul’s muffled voice came from behind the door. Dewdrop flinched, cold sweat dripping down the back of his neck.
“C– Can I come in?” he asked, trying to hide the shake in his voice.
“Sure.” He cleared his throat, wiped his hands on his pants and grabbed the handle. Dewdrop slipped inside and nearly stumbled backwards as he got hit with a stench of… pain. Mental and physical anguish were hanging thick in the air and tears suddenly gathering in the fire ghoul’s eyes wasn’t just his body’s defensive response.
There was a mess on the floor, everything one could think of thrown all around the room. Curtains were half shut, barely letting any light inside. Rain was in his bed, sheets crumpled over the lower half of his body as he fidgeted with his own fingers and avoided looking at his partner.
“Rainy, do you–”
“It’s alright,” the water ghoul didn’t let him finish, glancing up briefly as he tried to muster up a reassuring smile. Dewdrop had never seen a thing so fake. “What did you need?”
He managed to forget what he came there for when he took in the ruin Rain was in. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. The other wasn’t looking at him and Dewdrop felt as out of place as ever.
“Dew?” Rain said quietly again. The fire ghoul cleared his throat and squeezed his eyelids to banish away the tears of fear.
“Yeah, I’m here,” he whispered and put a hand back into his pocket, fingers wrapping around the item put away in there. “I have a… question for you.” Rain hummed in acknowledgement.
Dewdrop took a shaky step forward, kicking away a crumpled water bottle to make space, and took one last deep breath.
He lowered himself to the floor, kneeling.
Only then did Rain look at him again, “Droplet, what are you–”
“You always talked about how you love human traditions,” the fire ghoul’s voice was quiet but wobbly, as if he was to burst into tears any second. He just might, really. “That you think they’re cute and… and I know it’s not the same with ghouls, but–”
He paused. Rain was looking at him with his brows raised and his expression unreadable. It made Dewdrop even more terrified but he wouldn’t stop now. He pulled out the little box from his pocket. “Rain, I want to marry you. Like a human. Will you? Will you marry me? Will you be my mate?”
The water ghoul’s lips parted, mouth hanging open in shock. And something else. He stammered, eyes wide, “D– Dew, wh– what?”
“I know it’s stupid and cheesy, but I don’t care. Rain, I need you, I love you more than anything, you know that.” It was silent for a few moments and Dewdrop had never felt time go as slow as it did then. His face was burning and his heart was racing so fast he felt it shake his entire body.
Finally, Rain broke the silence, but with… with a scoff. “Really? You’re so desperate to cheer me up, or whatever, that you’re, what, proposing?”
Dewdrop’s ears started ringing, there was suddenly a crushing pressure on his chest and a sting in his eyes. Physical pain all over. He was sure the world was starting to crumble under him. “W– what? No– no, of course it's not like that, Rain–”
“Yeah…” he sighed. “You just suddenly got a dream of being mated to a cripple, sure.”
“Rainy, p– please, don’t–” the fire ghoul was crying now, fat and hot tears running down his cheeks.
“Oh, maybe it’s a charity kinda thing? That’d be fun.”
Dewdrop let out a choked out sob and scrambled to get up, dropping the ring under the bed in the process. Not like it would be needed now, would it?
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, throwing himself at the door and pulling it open. He paused, just for a second before he ran out and slammed it shut. “I planned it for months.”
The silence that suddenly surrounded Rain again was soul crushing. 
What the fuck did he just do?
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Rain had no idea what happened to Dewdrop after he… left. He couldn’t feel anything, couldn’t hear anything, nobody came to talk to him. About this or anything else. 
He dared to check his phone, this one time. All he found was a single text message from Swiss. Rain wasn’t hoping to find any words of consolation or assurance, he wasn’t that delusional. He found exactly what he expected.
man I know you’re in pain and all, but you fucked up
He knew he did. The worst he ever has, no doubt. He wished someone would come and yell at him—maybe beat him up, if he was lucky—but that would be mercy he didn’t deserve. What he was doing to himself was worse, anyway.
Rain didn’t think there was any coming back from this.
How could he? He didn’t mean any of it. He knew Dewdrop loved—used to love?—him, they talked about this months ago. He knew what the fire ghoul did was genuine, brought up by nothing but the sickening amounts of love he was harboring for Rain in his broken little heart.
If he knew all that… why did he do what he did?
What the fuck was wrong with him?
Everything was the simplest answer. The truth.
There was nothing to be done about it apart from rotting in pain, the misery of loneliness he sentenced himself to on his own and the self hatred for doing so. 
It appeared Rain couldn’t cry anymore. He had neither the tears nor the energy. How low he must have fallen, how far away from who he was, that even his beloved water decided to turn her back on him.
So he lay there on the floor surrounded by thrash—he supposed he was fitting in—staring at the cracked ceiling with unseeing eyes, as if his empty gaze could fill the cracks in the ceiling and the hearts of his packmates at the same time.
It could’ve been minutes, it could’ve been days. The physical pain was nothing anymore, compared to the self inflicted mental anguish. The dull and somehow simultaneously sharp ache that was spreading in waves through his broken body was rewarding, in a way. Punishing, Rain supposed. He deserved every bad thing that has ever happened to him and that would be to happen to him for just this one horrible mistake.
He didn’t deserve the respite of sleep. When he felt it finally taking him, all he could do was pray to Lucifer to not let him rest.
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His prayers weren’t answered. Of course, why would Lucifer side with him? He hurt Dewdrop, the one He had protected so fiercely all his life, the favored one. Rightfully so. Dewdrop deserved the world and Rain did not deserve to be even a grain of sand under the fire ghoul’s feet in that world.
He woke up with a start and a splitting headache to a harsh knocking on his door. It wasn’t asking, it was– “I’m coming in.”
Rain let out a grunt, but made no effort to move from his spot on the dirty floor. Swiss’ scent hit him as the multi ghoul loomed over him. It was a mixture of sadness, anger and… grief, Rain thought. What would he be grieving?
“I brought snacks,” Swiss announced and Rain heard something being dropped onto his bedside table. “I don’t care what excuses you’re cooking up in that head of yours, I’m coming back tomorrow and I better find them eaten.”
With that he turned around on his heel and returned to the door. He paused, though, and the water ghoul heard a sigh.
“He’s not really angry at you, you know?” Swiss said. Silence answered him. “I think it’s physically impossible to be angry at you, he’s just… you know how hard vulnerability is for him. He was planning it for quite some time mostly because he was nervous, and then he finally managed to do it and, well… you know what happened. He just needs a little space. He’ll come back, and he’ll come back soon, because that dumbass can’t live without you. You better be ready when he does. I’ll kick your ass myself if you won’t.”
Rain stayed quiet, trying to not let his mind hang onto Swiss’ words. He failed.
He heard the door opening, but before it was shut the multi ghoul spoke again, “Now get yourself the fuck together.”
Rain expected a deafening silence once Swiss left. Instead all he could hear was the pounding of rain outside, the noise of it pattering against the window. Rain scoffed at the irony of his namesake falling down just as he was falling apart.
He thought maybe he should reunite with it, let it soak into his dehydrated skin and make him feel like himself again. Even if just for a moment.
Rain groaned with pain, sinking his claws into the hardwood floor and rolling around. He bent his arms under his body and pushed himself up. His heart raced, head spun, but soon he was standing.
Swiss was right. Dewdrop would come back, he was too stubborn not too, and the least Rain could do was not hurt him any more than he already did.
He limped to the door, gritting his teeth against the pain radiating mostly from his hip, but hesitated with his hand over the handle. Maybe he should… 
The water ghoul looked over his shoulder at his desk where a cane was laying, already covered in dust. He bit his lip so hard he drew blood.
Rain turned around.
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“That’s an interesting choice of weather to finally go out,” Rain heard a familiar voice from behind him.
“Well, uhm… a bit ironic, too,” the water ghoul muttered as he turned around, coming face to face with the other. He hasn't seen them in ages.
“You could say so,” Zephyr shrugged. “I’d say it can be symbolic.”
“I need it,” Rain sighed, feeling tears welling up in his eyes. He gripped his cane’s handle tighter, eyeing the other’s own.
“I understand. Good luck.” The air ghoul winked and took a step to the side, intending to go on about their day.
“Zephyr, how…” Rain took a deep breath. “How did you survive? How are you surviving?”
“I’ve got my pack,” they answered with a soft smile painted on their face. They looked happy. “When I really think about it, they’re all I truly need.”
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Dewdrop felt his heart clench when he caught sight of Rain outside through the common room’s window. He wanted to smile and cry and scream, overwhelmed with all the emotions known to man. He couldn’t have known if Rain being out there, in the rain, meant anything, but he didn’t care. Limping through the garden with a cane clutched in one of his hands, Rain was out there.
Dewdrop stormed out of the den, running out into the downpour with no care in the world apart from his ghoul. He ran until he was just behind him, pausing with a heaving chest as the world rumbled all around. “Rainy?”
The fire ghoul could see the deep breath he took when he turned around. Dewdrop didn’t even get a chance to blink before Rain was on him, cold nose pressing into his neck, arms wrapped tightly all around the smaller ghoul.
“I’m sorry,” he sobbed.
“Don’t have to be,” Dewdrop sighed, bringing him even closer. “Don’t have to be.”
Rain truly wailed at that. His knees buckled but the fire ghoul held him up, and it meant more than a thousand words. He’d always hold him up, wouldn’t let him fall. They both knew that.
“F– forgive me… please.”
“I already did, Angelfish,” he said and there was no hesitation in his voice.
“Can– can I… with you… stay with you t– tonight?”
The fire ghoul’s heart clenched tightly. He pressed a kiss to the top of Rain’s head. “Of course you can. Always.”
“But not yet,” he whispered, barely heard over the noise of rain. “Need it.”
“Yeah. Yeah, let’s stay here for a bit.”
So they did, clinging to each other and waiting for the sun to set as rain washed down over them.
When Rain started shivering Dewdrop carried him back inside and to his room, peppering kisses all over his wet face on the way, his heat kicked up to not risk the water ghoul catching a cold. He helped him dry himself and change. It was a quiet process, neither of them having words to spare. They didn’t need them anyway. Not yet, at least.
What they needed for now was each other, and they finally had it again. Rain didn’t protest when Dewdrop patted his bare chest in invitation once they were in his bed. The water ghoul scooted over and glued himself to the other, curling an arm around his waist. Tails and legs tangled together.
They both haven't slept as well as that night for what felt like ages.
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A few days had passed since that evening in the rain. Dewdrop has not stepped away from Rain for a moment over those days, always by his side, touching. Support both mental and physical.
Not much changed, really. Barely anything. Rain was still hurting, plagued by the pain his body was subjected to and the one his hurt body caused his mind.
But he smiled again. He took care of himself more. Well, Dewdrop took care of him, mostly, but Rain let him. He wasn’t fighting anymore. It was a slight improval, but an improval nonetheless.
“What do you think about breakfast?” Dewdrop asked as they were laying in bed one morning, lounging lazily and drinking each other in. Rain had the fire ghoul tucked against his side, lithe fingers brushing softly through the golden strands. He was about to open his mouth to agree, but the other spoke again before he could, “With the others?”
While the two of them did come across one or a few of the others over the last couple of days, Rain still hasn’t really talked to anyone. He felt guilty and doubted he’d be able to handle them all at once. But maybe… with Dewdrop…
“I– I, uhm…” he mumbled.
“It’s okay, we don’t have to,” the fire ghoul quickly added. “Just a proposition. We can wait as long as you need to.”
“No, I…” Rain sighed and swallowed thickly. “I want to. I miss them.”
Dewdrop tilted his head, looking up at him with his brows furrowed. “Really? You sure? We don’t ha–”
“I’m sure,” he smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to the other’s forehead. “What time is it?”
The fire ghoul turned to take a look at his phone. “Nearly ten. I’ll text them we’ll be coming down, okay?”
“We should get going, then.” Rain started to gather himself up to crawl out of their nest. Once he did and the obligatory dizziness had passed, Dewdrop grabbed his hand, pulling him in between his legs where he sat at the edge of the bed.
“If you’ll feel overwhelmed or simply change your mind, just tell me and we’ll leave, okay? They’ll understand. I just don’t want you to stress out for no reason,” the fire ghoul said, drawing circles on Rain’s hand with his thumb.
“I’ll tell you,” he agreed and with a pull on his finger prompted Dewdrop to stand up and fall into his arms for a hug. He kissed the top of the smaller ghoul’s head before they parted to get dressed.
Soon, they were slowly walking down the corridor to the common room, hand in hand, and the closer they got the faster Rain’s heartbeat was. Still, Dewdrop held onto his hand with an iron grip and wasn’t planning on ever letting go.
“I love you,” he whispered into Rain’s ear as he got onto his tiptoes to kiss the water ghoul’s cheek.
“I love you, too,” he muttered back, just before they walked into the common room.
“Hi, Dew!” Phantom noticed them first, grinning as he realized Rain was there, too. “Hi, Rainy!”
At his, not very subtle, announcement, the rest of the ghouls turned their heads in the pair’s direction. Rain had his head hung and Dewdrop squeezed his hand reassuringly as they padded further into the room. Apart from the initial surprise—a positive one—on the pack’s faces, no fuss was created. They greeted Rain and Dewdrop normally and proceeded to go on about everything as if nothing had ever happened. The water ghoul was overwhelmed, but grateful for this small mercy of not being the center of attention.
Dewdrop kept a hand on his thigh at all times, additionally giving him a warm squeeze to his still aching hip or knee. Breakfast was uneventful, a true blessing. Everyone had their own quiet conversations going on with a giggle rising up over the voices from time to time. Rain kept quiet but he enjoyed the background noise of his pack. Of life.
At some point Phantom truly burst out laughing, nearly choking on his juice. Swiss patted him on the back as he grinned and tried to not laugh himself.
“What’s so funny?” Cumulus asked with her eyebrows raised and a soft smirk.
“Bug finally found the video,” Swiss sighed. A series of snorts sounded out around the table.
“What’s the video?” Aurora asked, the only one clueless as to what was so hilarious.
“The one where he–” Mountain started but Phantom cut him off with more booming laughter and wheezed out words.
“Where he falls off the fucking stage!” he all but yelled. “Like a fucking starfish!”
“Oh, I saw that one,” Aurora giggled.
“Everyone did,” Aether scoffed, returning to his food.
“I know it looked funny.” The multi ghoul folded his arms across his chest and pouted dramatically. “But it was very serious! I was bruised for two weeks!”
Rain felt something in his heart souring, but he focused on his toast and the comforting warmth radiating from Dewdrop.
“Oh, I bet.” Phantom put a hand over his heart, as dramatic as Swiss. “It must’ve been so scary!”
The water ghoul gritted his teeth as the rest of the table laughed at Phantom and Swiss’ little act. Rain tensed up, thousands of words slamming against his brain now. Why did it even set him off? It was nothing, it meant nothing, they were just joking it–
“You’re so brave, Swissy!” Phantom laughed and Rain snapped.
One moment the room was filled with laughter as he sat by the big table, the second it was dead silent as he limped away with a snarl on his lips and stinging tears in his eyes.
“Rain!” Dewdrop called after him. He was so stunned at the water ghoul’s outburst he didn’t follow him right away. “Angelfish, wait–”
He slammed his door shut and locked it as soon as he reached his room, right in Dewdrop’s face. He threw himself onto the bed and curled into a ball, hands pressing into his ears so hard it hurt, to not hear the fire ghoul’s muffled, hurt voice, pleading with him to open the door.
Not this time.
Dewdrop shuffled back to the common room after a few minutes, knowing that lingering at Rain’s door would do no good. He ran a hand down his face with a sigh. Back by the table Swiss was consoling a crying Phantom as the rest pointedly stared at their plates.
“It’s not your fault, Ant,” Dewdrop told him. It really wasn’t. “He’s in a fragile state now, but he knows it was just joking around and not even about him.”
“B– but I–” the quintessence ghoul sniffled.
Dewdrop forced himself to smile softly, reassuringly. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Okay?”
“Okay,” he mumbled and let himself be pulled closer by Swiss as he wiped off his tears. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife as the fire ghoul plopped down onto a couch. He wasn’t hungry anymore.
Dewdrop dropped his face into his hands and tried so hard to not just… break. He took a few shaky deep breaths trying to compose himself. He felt the couch dip next to him, then, and Aether’s scent enveloped him as the bigger ghoul wrapped himself around him.
“It’s okay, firefly,” he whispered. “You’ll be alright. Both of you.”
Oh, how bad Dewdrop wanted to believe it.
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Rain didn’t sleep well without Dewdrop again. He kept tossing and turning for hours, and even after he did finally manage to fall asleep, he still woke up frequently. That’s why he heard the suspiciously quiet knock on his door in the morning. “‘s open.”
The door squeaked and Cumulus’ fluffy hair came into Rain’s view. “Hi, pearl.”
“Mhm,” he hummed in greeting, pulling the covers higher up over himself.
“How are you feeling?” The ghoulette came closer and closer until she sat at the edge of the bed. “Did you sleep well?”
“‘m fine,” Rain grumbled and shuffled away, not even trying to be discreet, when Cumulus’ hand hovered over his legs under the covers.
“Glad to hear,” she smiled, but the water ghoul wasn’t neither stupid nor blind. “Do you need anything? I can–”
“I said I’m fucking fine,” he growled, snapping his teeth. Cumulus flinched and quickly scrambled off of the bed. Rain could smell her scent souring in real time.
“Oh, uhm… I’m– I’m gonna go then… goodbye, Pearl,” she murmured and stumbled out of the door, still being careful and considerate enough to not slam it. Rain sighed, burying himself under the covers fully. She didn’t deserve it, there was really no reason for him to–
“No, you fucking don’t!” Cirrus yelled, out of nowhere. She, on the other hand, slammed the door so hard it was surprising the frame didn’t splinter. Before Rain could register what was happening the bedding was ripped off of him and it was his turn to flinch. “You’re either going to get yourself the fuck together or we’re going to leave you here to rot in your own misery.”
Her teeth were bared as she stood over him, fuming. “You’re in pain and depressed, we get it, but it’s not our fucking fault. It’s not yours either, but stop making it worse for yourself and us by being a little bitch.”
Cirrus was right, Rain knew she was. He was silent, but he hoped she’d rip him to shreds as she continued to growl and snarl. “Dewdrop didn’t do anything to deserve what you said to him, Phantom didn’t mean anything by what he said and you know it, Swiss was only trying to help because he cares for you.”
“Look at me,” she spat, kicking the bed frame. He couldn’t look her in the eyes, he was a filthy coward. “Cumulus was crying her eyes out feeling sorry for you at night and wanted to simply offer company in the morning. I understand everything, I really do, but that’s fucking enough, Rain.”
He felt like a child, being scolded as he fidgeted with his hands, no power to talk back. Cirrus was right, about everything. Rain hurt everyone, even though all they tried to do was help. He was a monster. He didn’t deserve to as much as live in the same building as his pack, those kind, caring and compassionate ghouls that were nothing like him, the miserable cripple poisoning everyone’s lives.
He’d do everyone a favor if he just… disappeared.
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It could’ve been a day or a week again, as Rain continued his rotting. He didn’t have any will, energy or reason to do… anything, really. Once in a while he’d stumble to the bathroom to piss, but how often could that be happening if he didn’t drink anything? That was another thing, he was drying out, not only inside but outside, too. He was a water ghoul, for Satan’s sake.
Rain didn’t see a point anymore. He tried, he thought it was about to get better, he thought it was about to get fixed, he had Dewdrop again and he fucked it all up. Again. He didn’t deserve more chances.
Rain lost.
He flipped over on his bed, groaning at the pain shooting through his body at the movement after so long of being stuck in one position. The water ghouls stared at the ceiling, the moonlight dancing on the flat surface. He longed to feel the peace of it again.
It was cold when Rain woke up again. He didn’t think he had ever been so cold.
Something was wrong, he wasn’t– it wasn’t just cold in his room, he was freezing inside. Heart feeling like a block of ice.
His hands were shaking, his knees ached.
Rain noticed a bass laying next to him. How did it get there?
He tried to reach out for it with a whine, but he couldn’t… he couldn’t move. His body wasn’t listening to him. He was stuck.
“Please,” he whimpered, eyes stinging. He tried one more time.
His fingers twitched, then his wrist, but before he could grab the bass, it was gone. Vanished.
A shuddered sob left his throat and he brought his hand back to his chest, as if it got burned. Why did it… where did it go?
Rain got up, legs wobbly. Pain shot through his entire body, but he didn’t stop. He left his room, he wanted to find someone. He didn’t know why, he avoided them all, after all, but he suddenly needed them.
He walked slowly, holding onto the wall, wincing with every step, his jaw clenched. First door, Swiss’ bedroom. He knocked.
No answer.
Rain swallowed thickly and pressed down on the handle, opening the door with a squeak. He looked into the room but it… it was empty. Completely bare, no furniture, no belongings. No Swiss.
The water ghoul’s heart sank.
He closed the door and moved on to another one. Mountain.
The shaking of his hands was worse now, anxiety rising. Mountain’s room was empty, too. Rain’s heart was racing, fear engulfing him completely. Did they… leave him?
He limped from door to door, finding each and every bedroom in the same state of nakedness. The den has become a wasteland and Rain felt like he had slept right through it.
Tears were flowing down his face, his breathing was shallow and his head was pounding as he stumbled down to the common room. It was empty, too, but there was a piece of paper on the big dining table, covered in dust. Rain didn’t want to read it.
He did, though. He couldn’t not have.
You finally did it, you pushed us all away. 
Congratulations, Rain.
You are free.
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Rain woke up with a cry on his lips, body covered in sweat.
Did he really wake up?
His body hurt all the same. He was alone all the same.
He supposed that was it. His nightmares finally came true and it was nothing he didn’t deserve. He truly did this to himself.
Rain lifted an arm to move his damp hair out of his face with a sigh. When he dropped it he hit something that was laying next to him on the bed. Something like paper. He grabbed it, brought to his face and tried to see what was on it, squinting in the half-dark room.
A pain sound left his mouth as his heart sank impossibly deeper when he made out the words in Papa’s clean handwriting.
Rain tumbled out of bed, his knees hitting the floor. He scrambled up and with tears adding to the wetness on his face ran out of his room with energy he wasn’t able to find in himself for the last… well, he still wasn’t sure how much time had really passed since the tour had ended.
But now he ran.
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“Even you can’t convince him to give up touring,” Mountain sighed, running his fingers through Dewdrop’s hair where his head was resting on the other’s chest.
“I know, but Aether–” he sniffled.
“Aether wanted it, it was his idea,” the earth ghoul reminded him. This was the third—or thirteenth—time they were having this exact conversation. Mountain wasn’t annoyed or exasperated by it, no. He just wished he was able to tell Dewdrop something else. “Sunny, too. This is a very different situation, Fire Lily.”
“Fuck, I know, but I– I just can’t see him like this, but I know not playing will be equally bad, Mounty. If not worse. ”
“Yeah… yeah, it will,” he whispered. It was the truth, everyone knew it. Rain and his music was something… it was one. It couldn’t be separated, Rain without music was an empty shell, a ghost. He needed it to survive just as much as he needed water.
Silence that fell after that was soon interrupted by a single vibration of Mountain’s phone. He reached out for it and Dewdrop could hear and feel his heart speeding up under his ear.
“Oh… I– I don’t think any of us will have anything to say about it,” the earth ghoul said.
“What do you mean?” Dewdrop perked up, anxiety rising in him.
Mountain showed him his phone, the band’s group chat open. The single text message from Papa hanging over the bright background was like a knife piercing the skin of Dewdrop’s chest.
Good morning, my dear ghouls. I am sorry for not informing any of you in advance, but I thought it best, considering the… circumstances. I hope you can understand my decision. All of you, please come down to the summoning chamber as soon as you get this. We are about to summon a new ghoul.
“They’re about to summon a ghoul now?” a choked off whimper left Dewdrop’s throat. That would… it would kill Rain.
“Seems like Papa made a choice a while ago,” Mountain grumbled and pulled the shaking fire ghoul closer to his chest, neither of them ready to face the reality. They both hoped the messages that came soon in quick succession after the first wasn’t Papa hurrying them. It was worse.
dew 
my office
now
its rain
This made the fire ghoul scramble out of Mountain’s arms and throw himself out of the door without a word. The earth ghoul understood, he slowly climbed out himself and began to get ready. After all, the new ghoul would have to be welcomed no matter the state their pack was currently in.
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Papa expected Rain to show signs of life as soon as he would wake up and see the note left on his bed. He knew it wasn’t likely for him to see the message on his phone. What the man didn’t quite expect was how he burst through his office’s door shaking and crying.
“Papa, please–” were his first words, let out in a breathless whine as the water ghoul stood in the door, clutching the handle for dear life. He looked like he was about to collapse. 
“I’m sorry, Rain,” Papa sighed, leaning back against the desk and trying to not make the pity show on his unpainted face. “I made my choice.”
“I’m fine, I just need to rest,” Rain pleaded, coming closer on wobbly legs. Papa reached out for him. “I can still tour, I won’t disappoint you any more.”
“You have never disappointed me, not once. I’m removing you from the project for your own good.”
A hurt noise left Rain’s mouth before his knees hit the ground. Before Papa could so much as blink the ghoul crawled over to him and wrapped himself around his legs, begging as if for his life. In a way he was.
“Please… Papa, don’t–” his voice was breaking, barely understandable, “don’t take this away from me.”
“I am sorry, my ghoul,” Papa said, meaning it. It was a hard decision for him, too, he knew how it would impact not only Rain himself but the entire pack, but he was the head of the church now. He was responsible for his ghouls. In the long run, this was the better choice. Lesser evil.
Papa lowered himself to the ground and wrapped his arms around Rain—still babbling out his pleas. He held on tight, letting the ghoul cry into his shoulder. Rain clung to the man as if he was a lifeline, the last remaining scraps of normality in his life.
Not letting his grip falter, Papa dug around for his phone. As clumsy as it was, he managed to send a few quick texts to the chat, hoping that the fire ghoul would be bothered enough to open them and come as soon as possible.
How could’ve he doubted him?
“Rain,” Papa whispered into his ear after what felt like hours. “Dewdrop’s here.”
The water ghoul’s head shot up so quickly he nearly gave himself whiplash. Through the tear-blurred vision he saw Dewdrop’s silhouette as he stood over the two of them.
“Angelfish,” he sighed and before anything else could leave his lips, Rain threw himself at his feet, wrapping weak arms around his calves and clinging hard as he cried into the fabric of his jeans. 
Dewdrop knelt—rather clumsily with how the other was holding him—and buried his fingers in Rain’s hair, bringing him close to his chest. He turned to Papa for a moment, gently asking him for space and the man left with a compassionate smile on his face, closing the door behind him.
“Rain… Rain, look at me. I’m here. I’ve got you, it’s okay.”
“You– you’ll go away, you’ll l– leave me,” Rain sobbed, clinging to Dewdrop’s shirt with white-knuckled grip, as if he’d really leave if he let go even for a split second.
“Angelfish, I won’t, ever,” the fire ghoul tried but Rain was so far away, spiraling so hard that nothing was getting through to him. Dewdrop was shaking now, too, Rain’s pain and sadness choking him like they’d be his own. Worse. “Please, Rainy, stay with me, I’m not going to leave, I’m not going anywhere.”
“D–  Droplet, I– I can’t–” his breathing was nothing but short, choked off gulps of air that he greedily swallowed but spat back out with another wave of tears after a second. Dewdrop frowned, the sound going straight to his bruised and cracked heart.
“Rainy, breathe. Please, breathe for me, please,” he begged him, on the verge of tears himself. He couldn’t cry, there was no point, he just had to– he just had to help Rain. “Please, baby.”
“I– I can’t… can’t D– Dew,” he wheezed out and it made panic flash through Dewdrop. It was too empty, he was… he sounded like he was suffocating and the fire ghoul could do nothing about it. “Dew, I– I’m s– scared.”
“I know, baby, it’s okay, it’ll be alright. Just breathe, please, Rainy.”
“Can’t…” Rain whispered without air, so quiet Dewdrop could barely hear it.
The water ghoul went limp in his arms, fingers letting go of his shirt, head thumping against his collarbone.
“Fuck, fuck, R– Rainy?” Dewdrop’s tears fell as panic rose in his throat like bile. “Rainy, please, wake up. H– hey, hey, Rainy, wake the fuck up, please, I’m begging you. Please…”
But Rain couldn’t hear him.
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Rain came to surrounded by warmth. Nothing overwhelming and nothing… dry. He was in the water. He felt his limbs twitch, his chest slowly rise and fall.
“Hi, fish boy,” he heard a whisper and felt a breath on his ear. His brain was slowly catching on, registering his surroundings. Rain was in a bath. Dewdrop was with him, holding the water ghoul between his legs, against his chest. Chin hooked over his shoulder.
Rain tensed, breath hitching, but Dewdrop only tightened his arms around him. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ll look after you, it’s okay.”
No, no, he didn’t deserve it. He couldn’t take it.
“Rain, stop,” the fire ghoul sighed as if he knew exactly what he was thinking. He must have had. “It’s not true. I love you, let me take care of you.”
“D– don’t. Don’t say that.”
“Rainy… you’re such an idiot,” Dewdrop chuckled. It threw Rain off so much he stopped squirming, mouth nearly agape.
“W– what?”
“Just… just stop fighting everything, okay? It’ll be alright, just stop fighting. Please.”
Rain didn’t know how to answer, but after all the hurt he had caused Dewdrop, the least he could do was to obey. So he did.
“That’s it,” the fire ghoul hummed. “I’ve got you. Relax.”
Rain took a deep breath, letting his eyes fall shut, and tried to follow the simple instruction. He’d be able to if he’d just stop thinking. His thoughts were racing.
“It’s okay, you’re safe,” Dewdrop murmured, a wave of comforting warmth washing over Rain. He wasn’t sure if it was the fire ghoul’s warmth or just his words. They were like sedatives for him.
“Can you…” he cleared his throat, “please, Droplet, keep talking.”
“Of course, baby.” The water ghoul could hear the soft smile in his voice as Dewdrop traced his warm fingers over the skin of Rain’s stomach under the water. “My pretty, brave boy.”
“‘m not…”
“Hush. You asked me to talk, let me talk,” he scolded him. “You behaved like an ass but you are my pretty and brave boy.”
The fire ghoul nipped at his earlobe playfully. It nearly made Rain smile. “Tried so hard to get rid of me, didn’t ya? It’s not so easy, Angelfish, should’ve known that.”
Rain let his body go slack again, truly relaxing now that everything seemed normal for a moment. If he tried hard enough he’d be able to forget how he hurt, how hard he messed up and how bad he felt about it. Dewdrop continued talking, mumbling soft words into his ear, pressing kisses to his damp skin in between them. Some things were hard to believe, some made him feel warm, some made his heart clench painfully, but Dewdrop continued talking. That’s what mattered. Rain didn’t even realize how much he had missed his voice alone.
He could fall asleep in that bath, cradled in the fire ghoul’s arms. He nearly did, stopped only by Dewdrop shifting, reaching for a bottle of shower gel and a loofah. Rain panicked, heart suddenly in his throat as he grabbed the other’s arm tightly. “Hey, shhh, it’s alright. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving, Rainy.”
Dewdrop nudged him to sit up once his initial fear had passed. The tub was huge, they could not only fit in there comfortably together, but also maneuver all they needed to. The fire ghoul smoothed a hand down Rain’s back, soothing him as he wetted and lathered the loofah with gel.
“Can I?” he asked, making sure Rain was okay with what he wanted to do.
He nodded, muttering, “I’m a mess.”
“Well, you have a nose,” Dewdrop chuckled. “I’m not gonna be lying to you.”
He was right, of course. It was hard to not end up a mess without taking care of oneself for weeks and that’s exactly what Rain did.
He smiled, though. 
Barely a hint, the corner of his lips raised upwards by quarter of an inch, but it was a smile.
Dewdrop leaned down to press a kiss to the top of Rain’s spine before bringing the sponge to his skin, starting to gently wash him. The water ghoul closed his eyes again and relaxed, finally letting himself be taken care of, letting himself feel all the love the other had for him through his tender touches.
No matter how far Rain would come, one thing would never change and it would be the fact that Dewdrop was simply too good for him. Too good for this world.
“Droplet?” he whispered after some time, when the fire ghoul settled in between his legs to wash his chest.
He smiled up at him sweetly and Rain’s heart swelled. “Hm?”
“Would you…” he swallowed thickly and felt his cheeks heat up. “Is there still a chance for us to… you know?”
“What, Rainy?”
“Mate? Get married?”
There were a few moments of silence, but Dewdrop didn’t stop the light scrubbing. Rain hung his head, now burning with shame. How stupid it was to ask that. “You don't have to say anything, don't have to agree, I just… I need to know if you can still… consider it after all I've done. Just tell me if there's a chance.”
“There's more than a chance, Angelfish,” the fire ghoul looked up at him again. There was no lie in his glowing eyes when he spoke. There was only love.
“R– Really? You still want–”
“Of course I do, idiot,” Dewdrop scoffed. “I can't live without you. And you aren't that bad.”
“Fuck…” Rain felt like an impossible weight was just lifted off of him. His eyes were stinging but at the same time he couldn’t keep his lips from finally forming a full smile, something actually bright and real. “I love you so much, I can't live without you either, I'm so sorry, I was awful and–”
“Stop,” Dewdrop stopped him with a finger over his chapped lips. “It's behind us, it's okay.”
“I love you,” he repeated, breathless.
“I love you, too,” the fire ghoul shook his head with a grin. “Now are we calling the girls to help with the planning or…?”
Rain furrowed his brows in confusion. “W– what?”
“We're getting married aren't we?”
“You want– now?”
“Why wait?” Dewdrop shrugged and Rain could cry. He just might.
“Oh… oh, okay,” he mumbled instead, “yeah. Good point.”
The fire ghoul purred and pressed his lips to Rain’s own and it was another thing he hadn't realized he missed to a point of physical pain until he was given it again. Dewdrop pulled away way too soon, but Rain wouldn’t complain. Not yet, at least. “D’ya wanna get out? Go to bed and rest?”
“Soon,” the water ghoul sighed. The other nodded and rearranged himself in the bathtub, ending up with Rain against his chest again.
Dewdrop kicked up a purr and muttered into his ear, “You’re wearing a dress, right?”
“I am?”
“Are you not?”
Rain sighed with a smile, “I am.”
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The tour ended two months ago.
It has been over a month since Rain started to get better. Not physically—nobody knew if that would come—but mentally. It is a road full of bumps and curves and turnarounds, but most of the tears and grief are left behind. Whatever will happen in the future, Rain has his pack. Enlarged now. He has Dewdrop.
And Dewdrop finally has Rain. All of him.
Whatever will happen, they will get through it.
“Hey, Bambi,” Swiss snaps Rain out of his thoughts. “You ready?”
“Nearly, I just–” he grunts, fumbling with the zipper on his side. “Can’t close this thing.”
“Lemme help,” the multi ghoul chuckles as he comes closer and swats Rain’s hands away from the offending zipper. He fixes it quickly and pats him on the shoulder, taking a few steps back to look him over. “Well, well…”
“What?” Rain scoffs with his eyebrows raised, ringed and manicured hands smoothing down the silky fabric of his dress.
“Nothing, I’m just proud of you,” Swiss mutters. “Now let’s go get your man."
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End notes: Thank you so much for reading. Like I said at the beginning, this work is very important and special to me, I hope you liked it. I'd really appreciate feedback if you did, whether just a like/reblog or a whole ass essay. It wasn't easy to write and yeah, I'd really appreciate it <3
273 notes · View notes
mikichko · 6 days
Text
little bit personal but i’ve gone through lots of weight fluctuations in my life and no matter what size i am, summer is always hard for me.
which is why i cannot stop thinking about being ghost’s partner through summer.
we already know that he’s a man of few words, prefers to observe more than anything. so he really doesn’t miss the meticulous way that you plan out your outfits.
shorts have to be a certain length, shirts have to be at least long enough to hit your hips and sleeves long that are up to mid bicep. hell, he’s even seem you choose to wear pants all summer instead of even attempting shorts. too anxious over how you’ll be perceived to let yourself enjoy a nice warm breeze on your legs.
he asks you once if you’re warm, approaching the conversation the best way he knows how, only to have you laugh and tell him that the pants just hold you better. don’t need to give people a reason to comment on your appearance. he nods and you seem happy that he’s happy with your response.
but he’s not. listen, simon’s not really one to jump to defend someone’s ego from being bruised. god knows the team rags on johnny too often for him to pretend otherwise. but this? nah, this is different.
he’s all too familiar with the way bodies react and absorb the shock and trauma of war. has seen soldiers of all shapes, sizes, identities tank hits like no one’s business. there’s absolutely nothing he despises more than for the untrained, ill informed cretins offering opinions on someone else’s body. specially if it’s ever directed at you.
he’ll never say this though. at least not outloud. though, his actions do speak for themselves.
small pats on your hips as he passes by you. wrapping his arm around your lower belly instead of your waist, you try to swat at him but he just pulls you back into him. insisting that he lays on you when you’re stretched on the couch, dropping kisses on your clothed belly while his hands draw patterns on your plush thighs. if he’s feeling cheeky he’ll sink his teeth into them just to get a little squeal out of you.
even in public he doesn’t ease up. pulls you into his lap in front of your friends, knows you love it despite your protests. lounging out on a patch of grass along the walking trail, he pulls you closer to him and has one of your legs draped over his. massaging the fat there as you chatter about nonsense.
idk simon riley just really loves you and loves the body that keeps you alive and feeds your personality.
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spidernuggets · 27 days
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Hi! Im new here. I was wondering if you could maybe write something inspired with "Gorgeous by Taylor Swift"? Jason Todd obviously lol, that's why i am here for.
Thx,
🌵
Jason Todd x Reader
I SHIT YOU NOT, I've been thinking about this song with Jason Todd all week
Note: For the sake of the song, Jason has blue eyes here.
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It was once again another Bruce Wayne Gala. You were already on your 3rd drink, less than an hour in. You already promised Bruce that you'd show up, and it seemed rude to not go last minute. Being there would've been easy if that didn't mean trying to avoid Jason all night.
You knew if he found you, he'd try to ask you why you're always avoiding every time, everywhere. So you've been busying yourself at the gala, trying to talk to as many people as you could so Jason wouldn't disturb you. You talked to Dick, Steph, Tim, even Damian!
You're now on your 4th champagne, and your vision was getting a little blurry already.
But Jason, being Jason, he made it his personal mission to find you. You were his friend, and you always accompanied him during Bruce's long, boring galas. Well, except for the previous two. The last two galas were during the period where Jason was dating Artemis. And you couldn't stand being in the same room as them. Of course, you were happy that your best friend loved someone, but damn, you wished that someone was you. You knew for a fact you could've loved Jason better than any person he had clinging to his arm.
Two could play that game.
Did you try and make him jealous by bringing another guy (a significantly older guy at that) to the last gala. You sure as hell fucking did. Did the plan work?
Fuck no.
Jason came up to you, last gala, asking who the guy was. You introduced him as your boyfriend, but really, you just promised a guy a chance to see Bruce Wayne in return for being your date. And all Jason said was, "I'm glad you found someone to spend time with here. I didn't want to leave you alone while I'm with Artemis!" You wanted to strangle yourself.
You spent the rest of that night alone anyway, as the guy was just bothering Bruce the whole night. You had to formally apologise to him.
But this time, you came alone, expecting Jason to be with Artemis again. But you didn't see the tall red head anywhere. She was probably running late, but you would've expected her and Jason to come in hand in hand like the last two times.
"Y/n!" You grumbled at the voice that called out your name. You tried to casually speed walk away, but in a failed attempt, you felt a rough, calloused hand holding yours, preventing you from going away any further.
"Y/n! I've been looking for you all night," Jason says, turning you around. His warm hand embracing yours made your face heat up even more than it needed to. And the dimly lit room didn't help hide it. "Why are you so red?" He asks, placing the back of his hand to your forhead to check if you were feeling ill or such.
"Nothin'..." You murmur. You never really had a high alcohol tolerance. You tried to swat his hand away from your head.
"You sound drunk, sweet thing," he smiles down at you, hand now placed on your shoulder to keep you balanced.
"No, you sound drunk. You always talk nonsense. No one understands shit comin' out of your mouth," you tried to bite back.
"Okay, that means that's enough for tonight. It's barely two hours in, N/n," he says, taking your champagne flute away from you, holding you back as you whine, trying to take it back from him.
You sigh, knowing it was no use trying to fight against him. "Where's red head?" You murmur, leaning into his hold as he tried to keep you upright.
He looks down at you. "Artemis? Did I not tell you? We broke up. Uh.. well, she broke up with me. I don't know. It's complicated."
Well, that's just fantastic! Sure, when he was dating Artemis, you were jealous as hell, but at least it was easier to stay away from Jason and get rid of your feelings for him. Now that he's available, your brain is going to feed into the poor delusion that you actually might have a chance with him. And to top it off, now that you're on the edge of being wasted, your dumb mouth might run on its own an actually confess to Jason.
"And where's your date, Y/n? The old guy," he snickers.
You scoff. "Hardly old... only.." You count with your fingers. "Ten years older," you show your ten fingers to Jason.
"Mm.." He hums in response, combing your hair back with your fingers. "That's old, sweetheart. So, what happened to him?"
You sigh. "I don't know. Clubbing, probably. He's not allowed back here. Annoyed Brucie last time," You mumble.
"So.. Are you going to tell me why you were running away from me all night?" Jason asks.
You shook your head. "Was not.." You pathetically tried to lie. Suddenly, you felt your stomach gurgling. "Mm.. feel sick, Jay," you say, pushing away from him, not wanting to get sick on him, but he immediately pulls you back.
"Aha, okay, sweet thing. Bed time now." He laughs, placing your arms over his shoulder, guiding you out of the ballroom.
"Can go on my own," you mutter, trying to walk faster than him, but his hand remains on your waist, holding you closer to him.
"Yeah, yeah, sure you can. C'mon, up to my room." He says, leading the way to the elevator and up to the bedrooms.
"Want me to help you out of your clothes, or do you want to do it yourself?" He asks after letting you sit on his bed.
"Myself," you were able to sputter, reaching your arms out to take the shirt and sweatpants thathe already fetched from his wardrobe.
He kisses your forhead after giving it to you and heads towards the bathroom. He comes out with makeup wipes and micellar water.
"Eyes up, babe. You got eyeliner smudged all over," he whispers, grabbing hold of your chin to stop you from moving around.
"Up, up," he says, grabbing your hands and pulling you up as he leads you to his bathroom. He throws away the wipes and puts the water back in the cabinet. "You said you feel sick. You need to throw up, yeah?" You only mumbled in response, kneeling in front of the toilet.
Jason lightly rubs your back, waiting for you to throw up as your hand is over the toilet seat, your head leaning on it.
You started to groan, which alarmed Jason that you were ready to hurl. He combs your hair back, away from your face.
"You done?" He lightly asks, grabbing a paper towel and wiping your lips.
"Mm.. water."
"I know, I know, sugar. Come on," he helps you up again, going back to the bedroom. He opens a bottle of water and raises it to your lips, swatting away ypur hands that try to take it off him.
You hum when your thirst has been quenched, and he wipes away any droplets on your lips with his thumb. He then moves a small trash can beside the bed. "Bin is here if you need to get sick again, okay, Y/n?" He pokes your cheek to ensure you are listening.
You nod and hum in response. Jason lays the blanket over you, tucking you in, and you couldn't help but admire his features; His curly, black locks, sharp nose, plump lips, and those annoyingly gorgeous blue eyes that looked so deep that you could drown in them, but you'd still die happy.
"You're pretty, Jay," you mutter, your consciousness at the edge of giving up on you.
He shushes you. "It's bedtime now, sweet thing," he tries to get you to sleep.
"I'm not that bad of a person, am I?" You ask, now staring at the wall behind him.
"No, no. Why would you think that, babe?" He asks, fingers, once again, travelling through your hair.
"I don't think I can be your friend anymore. 't's Too hard," you're now ranting your silly little thoughts. The one thing you prayed wouldn't happen. And Jason stares down at you in hurt and confusion. Before he can ask why, you speak up again. "I don't think I can..mm. be your friend and not be in love with you. Not fair. I can't have you.. you chose.. uhmm.. red head.."
Jason couldn't help but smile. You were so adorable, and he just wanted to kiss all over your face so bad. But he knew you'd forget by morning. He can wait.
He gets up, removes his blazer, and shirt, leaving on the floor, and walks to the other side of the bed. He lifts up the blanket, getting into bed behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist as he shuffled to lay closer to you.
He kisses the back of your head. "Me and Artemis broke up, remember?" You grumbled an "Oh yeah."
"Wanna know why?" He finds your hand, holding it, and caresses your smaller hand. You hum in a questioning tone. He leans in closer, his lips just barely grazing your ear lobe. "She said I couldn't stop talking about you. Everything we did, I'd always find a way to bring you into the topic. She said I was in love with you. I kept denying it because I knew - Well, I thought you didn't, and you'd never feel the same. Guess I was wrong," he also knows you wouldn't remember this in the morning.
He felt you take a breath. "Remind me in the morning? When I'm sober? I wanna remember. And kiss you." You say, voice muffled into the pillow.
He kisses the back of your head one last time. "Of course, sweet thing."
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